Hypochondriac
Originally uploaded by Snapatorium.

This girl's art spoke to me about how the bombardment of pop-culture often leaves us feeling fractured. Putting on our fractured masks pretending everything is fine. I think her art also reflects the absurd extravagance of our commercial culture. A lot of her work seems to combine 50's looking magazine pics with modern paraphernalia-expressing the evolution of an era and perhaps some of the confusion as we transition from one period to another. Interesting stuff...

I've been planning on making some artwork for my classes along the same strain. Of course, I don't know what it will look like until I'm done. But I think I'm going to combine family pictures and try to modify them to express the "fracturedness" I see in our generation and in myself. That's probably why I was intrigued by her work.

I was reading an interesting article about muli-culturalism tonight. The author was arguing a point on a subject I'm very much still formulating my thoughts on. I'm still sifting through my experiences and setting mental ground work to start the serious labor on the subject. But hearing him argue a certain point of view helped me better understand the parameters of the issue and it helped to know what academia is arguing about concerning this subject.

I've stumbled upon the issue of multi-culturalism vs. assimilation kind of through the back door. I'm white, low/mid-middle class. Went to private Christian schools. Why would I think about it?

Living in other countries has made me think a lot about national identity. For example, Koreans have a strong sense of Koreaness and after a while of living there you get tired of being on the outside.

I also have a lot of second-generation friends. The kind of people that grow up understanding two cultures and yet watching them from the outside I think they grow up with a stronger sense of identity. True-they often complain about the inconveniences of being a minority and I understand. Yet as I ride with in the car with my Mexican-American girlfriend and listen to her talk about her life I wonder, "What am I really?" Am I the absence of culture? The leftover, white, watered-down culture? I'm Czech, German, English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh. But I don't know anything of these cultures or their languages. I guess ultimately it doesn't really bother me. But just when I see the cohesion of my second-generation friends' communities it makes me wonder about assimilation.

With thoughts like these back-loaded in my brain, this article definitely added to the list of things to think about in this respect. He actually argues for assimilation.

"Multiculturalism distorts the past, deforms the present, and diminishes the future. The best of America, says Ali Hossaini, shows the world a better route to a free, unified society: its name is assimilation."

I wanted to write this on Joanne's blog but since she has a super wacko template that she hasn't bothered to fix I'll write it here.

When I was taking a nap today I had this dream that I walked on a plane and then just walked through a door into Joanne's office at Handong. Apparently, she had come back to Handong to work part time while she worked on her dissertation. I walked in her office with my black visor, so at first she didn't recognize me. Then we started jumping around in glee because she was so surprised that I had come to visit her in Korea. Later she told me how life was such a drag because she felt she wasn't getting enough done on her dissertation or something like that. She seemed stressed.

Then I started telling her how it was so weird that I was there in the room because it seemed like I had gotten there in an instance. Then I said, "I know how I'm here. I'm dreaming but we shouldn't talk about it too much or I'll start to wake up." So just then everything around us started to fade away but as it did I was praying for Joanne. Then I was really woken up by my friend Jeannie's voice on my answer machine.

Weird-huh? I woke thinking, "Wow, that's first time I remember being so aware that I was dreaming."

I know what you're saying, Joanne, about the whole hamster thing. You'll get through it. Your semester is almost over. I often feel that way. Probably doesn't help that I have big fat furry cheeks already...

When I wrote the last entry I was really stressed out. I wrote that entry and had a good cry. And it was amazing when I got up the next morning I felt so much better. Everything that seemed so impossible (mostly my part-time job) took on a new light. After I got up in the morning I put the entry on hold because I felt maybe I had disclosed too much. But now I've put it back up because I just don't care if people misunderstand me. It's like what I always tell Alison when she's amazed how honest I am-most of the time the only people that bother to read my blog on a consistent basis are either good friends or bloggy kinds of people. And most of them are the former so I would most likely tell them everything I wrote here anyway.

It is mostly my job that has been the cause of all my distress. It's only a part-time job but for some reason it was really stressing me out (I'm better now). One reason being it is one GAINT logistical nightmare. Then combine that with a high stress, blunt New Yorker for a boss and there you have a recipe for success. It has also nagged me that I gave up starting the Interactive Media Certificate program because of schedule conflicts with this job. That program is one of the main reasons I even came back to SD! I'll now be starting it hopefully in January. However, it might turn out to be for the best because this way I've had a chance to take classes in International Affairs and get ahead in my Photoshop and Illustrator skills.

I feel slightly pathetic moaning and groaning about my job situation when I think of the people I know in the developing world and other fellow bloggers that have way more stressful work situations. But what can I say? It's just the way I feel.

I have my peppermint tea. I've arranged my mood lighting. I'm playing supposedly relaxing music while a police siren sings on a street near by. I finally have a chance to try to pry some of this burden off my back.

I was walking around Chollas Lake yesterday. The atmosphere was just what I like-a crisp, autumn wind whirling around me, golden shadows on the trees, the sunset's reflection on the water. Unfortunately, my inner world did not reflect this tranquil setting and it still doesn't. Stress and anxiousness are burning in me, looking for a way to exit. I feel caged in my own life. I'm squirming to find a way out of circumstances that are like old wrappers around my life. "Sometimes I'm crushed by my own dreams, sometimes I build my tower so high..." I scribbled in my journal as I stared out at the lake.

Every morning I wake up and my mantra is the same, "I hate my job. I want out." Lately, my mantra has expanded to more: I'm tired of the same old burdens, feeling trapped in San Diego, trapped in this house that I grew up in, feeling trapped with the ghosts of my past, trapped in circumstances that I thought that God led me into. I'm so tired of my same old weaknesses, my same old failures! Why did You make me with such deficit? Why have You set me up to fail?

I've begun to blame God. It's time, God. Haven't I lived with this enough? I've followed You; I've chosen a harder road. And yet you've kept me a child, a dependant child trapped in the past. It's your fault! I can't move on with out You doing it! I should be getting married. I should be getting involved with a missions team. But no-I'm back here at ground zero! Back where I began with nothing to show! But no-my life is stunted while I watch everyone growing up around me.

I was having these kind of thoughts when I turned to Ps. 22,

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer.
Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the praise of Israel.
In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them.
They cried out to you and were saved;
in you they trusted and they were not disappointed.

I'm trying to trust but I feel faith is draining out of my body. I've been holding onto You for such a long time and I'm losing grip on that rope. I asked for one thing and You've left me a fool. That hurts.

"in You they trusted and they were not disappointed..."

help me

want to understand a little more about the big deal with WTO and world trade...

www.maketradefair.com

interesting...

I hope to learn a lot more about these issues this year...

Oh darn. There is so much I want to say but I've run out of time. It's too late tonight for me to really delve into the trenches of what's going in my heart. I really need to pray before I go to sleep. I haven't been able to pray this last week as much as I want. Last week was really busy. The phrase "hit the ground running" comes to mind when I think of me calmly, naively coming out of my labor day weekend not realizing what was about to hit me. "Hit the ground running" is what I needed to do. I didn't. Therefore-I got worked.

Here's a corny semi-poetic rendition of some of the things I've been thinking about:

animation girl in my poli-sci class
she looks so surreal

i can teach this class better than this grad student
should i go into international development?
it would be cool to teach it to people in developing nations

learning this stuff is like receiving water after a long, long walk
whoa, everybody in this development program is dedicated to social change
how does faith relate to economic development, social change?

hungry to dive into the huge pool of web-design
so much to learn, so far to go until I can use it for what I want

lonely, anxious, hopeful
love life a forever, eternal evading shadow
trusting in, complaining to
my Father

I've suddenly gone from wasting my life away boredom to dizzying business. I guess that's what happens when school starts. I'm going to be taking Intro to Political Science and International Contemporary Politics. Everything about these classes is very interesting to me so far. I'll take what I can get at this point. Even though they're community college classes, I'll still be exposed to the vocabulary/ buzzwords and be given a structured reading schedule.

I wasn't planning on taking these classes but as I was looking at the over-priced Spanish textbooks I wandered over to the Sociology and Political Science area. The reading material intrigued me so I decided to just see if I could "crash" the classes. Well, now I'm in. The Political Science class is taught by a young gum chewing grad-student. It was amusing for me being as I just finished teaching at the university level myself. I think there is something unique about teaching people close to your age.

Here's a reading assignment that I have to write a response to for my International Politics class eventually. For each approach we have to read several articles on the subject. (Pohang girls, you know this is scratching where I've been itching. I think we've had discussions about these very issues.)

Terrorism
What should we do now?

Approach 1: We must use every means at our disposal and every necessary weapon of war to defeat the global terror network.

Approach 2: We have to take decisive measures to bolster domestic security, and put into place precautions against dangerous predators.

Approach 3: For our own protection, we must address their grievances and expand efforts to reduce the hatred that fuels terrorism.

Can you guess which approach I agree with most? hehe...for some people this is a no brainer.

Well, I've got to run off to bed because I'm getting up early tomorrow to make it to my 7:30 (!) Photoshop class.

more activism inPortland

Adam, Jodi and I took a walk around Portland. Saying Portland is anti-Bush would be a gross understatement. Almost every yard has Kerry/Edwards signs not to mention the occasional anti-Bush slur.

Good old Portland

My wonderful hosts Adam and Jodi. Notice Portland's distinct architecture.

I'm here in Portland and it's been a great time. I've had a chance to touch base with more people than I thought I would. It's been awesome.

The drive up here was also a sweet time and God spoke to me a lot.

I'll write more when I get home after I've slept for half a day. :-) I'm really tired.

Update: I am now going to Portland. My sister wanted to go on a trip to Colorado originally because her and Andre would like to move out to Colorado Springs eventually. However, she eventually deemed it too stressful driving with her kids. So I've decided I'm driving up to Portland to see my old college crew. So that'll be cool because I haven't seen those people for a couple years. But pray for me as I drive up there because even though I'm an immpecible driver (uhem! no comments from my critics) that has driven this route a million times it's still a long drive.

I'm posting a poem I wrote as I left Tokyo airport. I looked back at the sunset, at that disappearing piece of Asia and I knew a time in my life was over. The sunset and the clouds were so amazing as I watched Asia get smaller and smaller. I wanted to hold on but I knew as the sun set so this time in Asia set for the last time.

Even as I typed up this poem today I could feel the pressure of the love and the loss of that time bearing down on my chest. I don't often interpret my poems but I will say that this one in its own abstract way is a good-bye poem, a loving hug to a dear friend that I won't see again-at least not in the same form.

Good-bye Korea
swimming in my metal swim suit
above an ocean of clouds
the sun sets behind me and I fly on

if I jumped out I know I would float
on that soft, cottony terrain

my own surreal planet of gliding gray-white cotton
I'd adventure out to that fading orange horizon
on the borders of my white planet

I'd stay there where gray and orange meet at a perfect perpendicular angel
and I'd sit on the edge of that cloud with my feet dangling over the edge

I'd stay there eating the orange lolly-pops of the sunset
transfixed by my memories stuck in the Asian sunset

I was going to write a bit and post a poem I wrote as my plane ascended into the sky from Tokyo. But alas I started researching digital cameras and now it's gotten too late. I've been wanting to buy a digital camera for a while. I have my camcorder, which I love but I also want a slim camera to stick in my purse so I can pull it out at any opportune moment. On the way back to America there were quite a few times I wished I had that slim camera readily available in my purse. However, now I'm particularly motivated to buy a digital camera because my sister and I are going on a last minute road trip to Colorado. So I definitely don't want to be saying the whole time, "I wish I had that digital camera." There are just so many options out there! I want something that's cheap, has excellent photo quality and is really small. hmmm...

As some of you know I'm going to be studying web-design and interactive media this year. They say when you're going to be building web sites you should get a sense for what you like. Well, I began to look around for site design I liked. For a while I thought I didn't like the design of many sites. But here are some sites that I like (some more than others) and I hope at the end of this year I can design some sites almost as good as these. :-)
http://www.alexthegirl.com
http://feistyscribe.com
http://today.maganda.org/index.html
http://www.miss.maganda.org/design/index.html
http://www.myjanee.com/

There's so much I'd like to say but I'm going to bed.

I'll leave you with these lyrics written by Alanis Morissette. As usual her thoughts really resonate with me.

you see everything
you see every part
you see all my light
and you love my dark

you can listen here

Tomorrow my friend...

It's funny. People have not been commenting on my blog lately but in the past two weeks I think I've gotten 4 emails or calls specifically about things I spoke about on my blog. Ironic. Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that you don't have to feel "exposed" if you write a comment. Granted it's not unusual to feel a bit weird about saying something in front of an unknown online audience. Just remember that almost everyone that reads this blog is a close friend and thus you have all have a lot in common. Was that a patronizing thing to say? :-/

Anyway, whatever you do is just peachy with me and you're probably being even more considerate by writing me a nice thoughtful email but sometimes the online audience does miss out. For example, Joanne emailed and said something to the effect that I looked like Ronald McDonald meets Bruce Lee in that pic a couple entries ago. hehehaha I got quite a laugh out of that. But it's even more funny when you know ole' kim-chee breath's sense of humor (Joanne).

But speaking of comments I have a request of those that know me well. I'm filling out this survey and from the words below it asks which four adjectives would your friends choose that best describe you if they had to choose only four. This is an interesting question, of course, because my friends might give a different answer than I would if the question was directed to me. I've written what I think are the top 7 but I haven't entered them yet. Could you make a suggestion? One bummer is that Ro doesn't have internet access right now and Alison's going on a trip. So those are two very close friends that can't vote. Well, anyway whoever you are just give it a shot.

Good listener
Respectful
Affectionate
Caring
Spontaneous
Physically Fit
Warm
Outgoing
Optimistic
Dependable
Romantic
Creative
Loyal
Spiritual
Kind
Ambitious
Articulate
Rational
Easy-Going
Generous
Happy
Quiet
Genuine
Intelligent
Hard Working
Thoughtful
Sweet
Passionate
Energetic
Funny
Perceptive
Modest

I know some words on this list that are definately not me. :-) I'll post them in my next entry. Ho-humm, that's going to be pathetic. That's perhaps a good way to figure out what adjustives do describe me by listing the ones that absolutely don't describe me. hmmm

Here are some words I wish were on the list.
goofy
adventurous
gorgeous hehe
(my new boss says this word all the time with her New York accent. I'm both amused and obsessed by this. note: One of my secret idiosyncrasies is that I have this parrot complex where I softly repeat words to myself that happen to be tasty to me. This is especially the case with second language vocabulary. Ask Sandy...I was the parrot of our office)

ladytime

"Time"
I've always loved this pic. It speaks volumes to me. A young preoccupied girl busily walks one way and as if through a rotating door here comes an elderly woman bent over with years of burdens.

Polar Bear

(me, Mr. bear and Jewl at Seaworld)

Here's something I wrote on my "ministry page" today. I didn't want to write it twice so I copied to this page for those of you that read both pages.

I've been in San Diego for almost a month now. There have been many times that I have talked with God in desperation and frustration about why he brought me back to this city. Even Jesus felt like a person's hometown is often the hardest place to come back to. Even he had to deal with people that still saw him as the child they remembered instead of the prophet he had become. It's tough to deal with people expectations sometimes-ya know?

Even though I've had my share of crying over old wounds and old memories, for the most part I'm standing in amazement over the new steadfastness I now have in him. Where I used to live in fear in my grandmother's house in the ghetto, the area doesn't even seem scary to me anymore.

I see everything with new eyes now. One thing that really helped me see things differently was reading a book called Chasing the Dragon on the airplane over here. It's about a woman who lived in the infamous walled-city in Hong Kong in the 1960's. Her heart for ex-rapists, drug-dealers and gangsters really influenced me. In the past I despised these kinds of people in my neighborhood because I felt they were a constant threat to my family. But now I see it differently, I truly know my life is in God's hand.

God really confirmed to me that he's guiding me a couple days ago. I've been looking for a part time job to make some extra money while I get a certificate in web-design. The hours for my schooling are really weird: 12:30-5:30. So I thought the best chance for employment would be my old job teaching English to rich foreign students in La Jolla.

I got a call from them last Sunday night. They left a message on my answering machine, "If you want to teach a class, come in at 8am Monday morning." So I got up at 6:30am the next morning to go to meet the manager of the school at 8 o'clock. But ever since I had gone to the La Jolla Center to inquire about the job, I had been having a bad feeling about accepting the job. However, I kept brushing it away. I thought, “What's the big deal? It's just a part time job." But when I got up that Monday morning I had a bad feeling about it. So before I got in the shower I got on my knees and prayed that God would help me to listen to him. So I made a deal with God that as I was driving to La Jolla (a 45 minute drive) I would pray about if God wanted me to take this job.

I couldn't believe it but the feeling that "this is wrong" kept persisting. So as I got out of my car I was trying to make deals with God. "How about I'll work today but I won't take anymore classes after this one?" I walked laboriously to the center located in one of San Diego's most prestigious areas. As I walked towards the building I felt God said strongly, "turn back" surprised I replied, "Are you serious?" I couldn't believe that I was struggling with this so much. I was thinking I was so silly and that I was just making this up. However, I couldn't shake off the feeling that this job was not what God wanted for me. So I stood in agony in front of the English center praying. Finally, I turned back and didn't enter the building. On one hand I couldn't believe that I had just driven out to La Jolla for nothing and on the other hand I was relieved and proud of myself.

So I had to go back and face my grandparents. I had to tell them weakly that I didn't feel right about it but I didn't know why. That night I jogged around Chollas Lake and then prayed about my job situation anxiously until they closed the park. There was an urgency in my voice. "God, I need to hear you on this! Whatever you want I'll do it!"

Then it happened. I met Linda for an interview the next day for the Community Economic Development Certificate. The interview was coming to a close when we started talking about the non-profit organization she's the director of. The organization works with inner city youth through mentoring and after-school programs. She started telling me some of the struggles of the program and I made some suggestions from my ESL background. Long story short-we eventually realized we were both Christians and the more we talked about the program the more it became apparent that I would be an ideal candidate for the program director position she was trying to fill.

So after the interview I went to a meeting with her and the former program directors. The more I heard about the program the more I knew it was the job I was looking for. This was a job that I could be challenged in and grow in instead of going back to a predictable job in La Jolla. As I left the meeting I cried in my car and thanked God for his guidance in my life.

I'm excited about the possibilities of working with this organization. This situation has made me realize that I shouldn’t take the burdens God has placed in my heart for granted. There have been many secret ideas and burdens I've had in my heart for my "inner city" area that I'll now have a chance to try out.

So please pray for me as I enter this new phase of my life. The organization is called UPLIFT which stands for “urban people living in faith and trust”. And we’re also looking for someone to work 12 hours a week as a Spanish/English translator and mentor. If you know of anybody in San Diego please contact me otherwise could you pray that we’d find this person. Thanks!

I printed the first 6 poems on my poetry page (not including the poems I posted this August) for my grams to read. I asked her later if the poems "seemed like me". She was looking quietly out the window as she often does when she is lost in some story from her long history. She answered immediately a curt, "no". I was surprised because my grams doesn't usually tell the truth directly and often she doesn't tell the truth at all. She followed, "You don't seem lost to me." Shocked at her unusual show of insight I caught my breath. "Did my poems seem like that to you?" I asked her. We went on to talk about how poems are a release, a way to get negative and positive emotions flushed out.

But this conversation caused me to realize again how my grams doesn't understand how much pain I've actually overcome. She's also a professional passive-aggressive, emotion-ignoring enabler that doesn't know how to see life in full-color. No, it's one-dimensional black and white for her. She's redefined reality for a long time now and perhaps she always has. She's rewritten our family history for years. Ignoring the disease that has left the majority of our family in tatters. "I don't know what happened to Terry (my dad)!" Her convenient memory has forgotten that my kid-sized dad once asked my grams, "Does dad still live here?" because my gramps worked so much.

Her sudden words about being lost have stayed with me. How could she have felt that way when I said nothing about being lost in my poems and she didn't even see my really sad poems? Yes, that statement knocked the air out of me because I know that's what I am. And somehow she saw it through my art. I've seen it too reflecting back at me from the accumulation of my writing. There are themes in all of us and if you write enough you begin to see them woven through out your writing.

There was another person who blurted out a similar strange kind of prophecy. Years ago I was wandering around Union Square in San Francisco looking at the art on display and chatting with the artists. I don't remember everything. I just remember this photographer looking at me and appraising me with an artist's eye, "hmm...You look happy, but there's sadness in your eyes....like a child....a lost child." I just stood there. I can see myself clearly in my mind's eye: my short, chin-length hair, my dark blue hooded sweatshirt, my child-like eyes looking at the piercing, eccentric eyes of my prophet. What is he talking about....and yet I knew.

Originally uploaded by joyceat123.

"Joyce Lee"

I'm supposed to get up to an intermediate level in Photoshop by the time my cert. course starts in September. This is my first ever attempt at doing anything by myself. As you can see this tool is going to be dangerous in my hands. But first I need to get good at it then I'm going to have some fun...

Bruce Lee would be proud...

I have that tired, achey feeling that you have after you've had a good long cry.  My head is aching and my eyes are puffy water balls.  I had a hard talk with my sister today after I made lunch for her and her kids at my grams house. 

As she was packing her kids into her car I mentioned how her reading a novel during the pastor's sermon was discouraging for me.  We ended up getting into a big discussion about ancient misunderstandings between us.  Sitting in her car we both cried.  Jewliet's awakening understanding emotional pain was particularly poignant at this moment.  I remember looking back at her big sad blue eyes, her a face strained with child-like concern.  "What's wrong?" she asked a couple times.  It's no longer only June and I "the thompson twins" that are impacted by the hand we've been dealt.  And I have to admit that worries me.  I don't want them to inherit our legacy.

Later I went back to church for a praise and worship night even though I felt drained by my tears and June's criticism of the church.  I just wanted to be in God's house in the dark surrounded by the praise of believers.  I wanted to coil-up into a ball and sway and cry before him in some dark corner of the sanctuary.  I went and found a lonely pew.  I was relieved to find that the church wasn't packed and there was lots of space.  As soon as the praise started I cried and cried.  I was slightly nervous someone would mistakenly think I was "shaking in the spirit" (a practice I oppose for the most part).  I cried off and on for the next 2 hours of the service.  "God, just meet me here."  "Please, just reach into this situation." were the prayers that my heart mumbled.

Just a Sample of June and I's Conversation
"Facts effect me more than emotional simplistic sermons...  I believe in the Bible, I believe in God."

"But you're angry at him?"

"Yes, because he's never helped me or shown me he cares about me.  I cried out to him so many times but nothing changed.  ....I'm tired of trusting people and being made a fool.  And many of those times were with God.  I trusted him and he made a fool of me."
***later in the conversation***
"What could he do to show you He's real?"

"I want to see him on earth, I want to see a miracle, anything to show me He's worthy of my trust.  I can't deal with speaking to the wind.  People say God spoke to them but they're just making it up.  How can I believe them?  Maybe God worked in the New Testament times or he works in other countries but there's no evidence of God's work here.  Non-Christians have lots of good things happen to them, too." 

I protest, "God is working.  What do you think has happened in my life?  What about other's lives?  How can you say that?" 

"I wish I could believe like you do, like Andre does.  But I can't.  I've been down that road and if I try to believe I feel I'm being someone I'm not."

It was aspects of this conversation that I was crying about through out the night service.  It pains me so much to hear her say that she cried out to God desperately and yet felt she was only "left with air".  What can a person say to that?  That's what she experienced.  That's how she felt.  I know that God passionately loves her but she's heard that a million times.  And she simply doesn't believe it and feels her circumstances have always confirmed that belief.

For most of my life my sister's pain was my pain and in many ways that's still true.  I've had to trust her to God through out these years because it was beyond me.  It hurts me to finally see the abandonment she feels from God.  The God I trusted to take of her made her a fool, wasn't there for her?  I see it differently.  I see God's providence in her life.  But where I see providence she sees abandonment; where I see his love she sees rejection.  That hurts and also baffles me.  Am I only seeing what I want to see? How can such adverse perspectives about the same life co-exist?  
             *****************
Well, more tales of living back in San Diego to come.  Including thoughts on the helicopters that keep on flying over my house.  Maybe they're having a practice drill at 1 in the morning?  Or maybe they're looking for an escaped convict on my street?  hmmm....  I vote for the former simply cuz it makes me feel better.

The “I have no friends (in San Diego)” Anthem
(sung to the melody of “He’s a Cold Hearted Snake” by Paula Abdul)

I have no friends (He’s a cold hearted snake)
In San Diego (Look into his eyes)
Oh-ohhhh

I have no friends (He’s a cold hearted snake)
In San Diego (Look into his eyes)
Oh-ohhhh

Lots of sunshine and palm trees
Looks like a peaceful, fun haven
But it’s more like an empty movie backdrop
(make up your own melody for this part.  I suggest “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over candle stick”)

I have no friends (He’s a cold hearted snake)
In San Diego (Look into his eyes)
Oh-ohhhh

Yes, here I am in San Diego, CA.  USA.  I just want to say to all my Korea friends that I love you very much and I am alive.  :-)  (And hi to all my friends in the US.  Thanks for your welcoming support)

There's so much to say as you can imagine.  Sorry I've been a major email lame-bo but that is changing as of tomorrow.  I'm emailing everyone back tomorrow as well as pouring out my heart on my blog about how detached I feel from American culture and how I have no friends in San Diego.  

However, there are things to be excited about such as how the Interactive Media Certificate course I'm going to be taking is so perfect!  I'm also going to be participating in a Community Economic Certificate and that also looks perfect.  In that area I'm really amazed so far.  

In contrast, in the church and fellowship department I'm discouraged so far but I really shouldn't be-I've just been here two weeks.  So chin up, Joyce!  Put on your boxing gloves!  Umm...  Go, fight, win....and all that stuff...  Anyway, I need your prayers right now and I'm praying for you guys as you transition also.

Okay, tomorrow I'll be writing more.

I CAN'T believe this!!!!!!!!!! Now I know why I haven't been able to access any blogger site! The Korean government has censored blogspot along with other sites because of the beheading of Kim Sun-il in Iraq. I can't believe it!

"As some of you may already know, a wing of the South Korean government, the Ministry of Information and Culture (MIC), is currently clamping down on a variety of blogging service providers and other websites. The government is attempting to control access to video of the recent Kim Sun-il beheading, ostensibly because the video will have a destabilizing influence."

Ro and I found other Korean bloggers going crazy about it through a search on google. Good thing we finally started to look into things. However, the whole ordeal has been helpful in some senses. It put me in touch with other Korean politically minded bloggers and it's taught me one way to get around blocked sites. ha,ha So next time I'm in a country that censors perhaps I can get around it. So I can finally read your sites and read my own!!!! Finally!!

Want to read more? Check out what these bloggers have to say:
http://marmot.blogs.com/korea/
http://jeffinkorea.blogs.com/
http://aboutjoel.com/
http://oranckay.net/blog/
http://kimcheegi.blogs.com/
http://gopkorea.blogs.com/flyingyangban
http://rathbonepress.tblog.com/
http://blog.woojay.net/

Well, it's time for the unveiling of my plans-for you my eager readers. (You're out there- right? I can't read anything because blogs still can't load anywhere in Pohang or even in of all Korea as far as I know. Can you believe it?)

I've gone through various emotions today then finally came back to "ya know, it's going to be OK" I was reading about globalization and development issues most of the day on opendemocracy.net And this spurred me on to research once again the different graduate programs I'm interested in. Which caused me to eventually start questioning myself again. Should I go into Education? Or should I go into Intercultural Studies, Anthropology, International Policy, Development? No, that's too theoretical, well, maybe that's too narrow... What if I'm not smart enough, not academic enough? What if I get married? What if I don't? What if I get there and I realize that I hate the subject?

Welcome to my mind.

The good news is that I'm not in charge of my life! Thank God! Look at that wishy-washy mess. :-) The one thing that I know for sure is that I'm following Him and that I want to work together with Him on this earth. So with that said it looks like I'm coming back to San Diego to work on certificates in Web-design and Community Economic Development while I apply to go to grad-school in 2005.

The main reason I'm waiting a year instead of going to grad-school this year is because in this last semester I've come to the conviction that I don't want a MA solely in TESL. Therefore, I need time to research the schools I want to apply to and write the essays for the applications. (which takes forever I might add)

Sometimes I see going back to San Diego as a wonderful development in my life because I can help my ageing grams, hang out with my sis and her adorable kids and get certificates in programs I'm highly interested in for almost free. But about half the time I'm terrified at the fact that I'm going back in a time machine to a place that often signifies for me intellectual/spiritual stagnation and emotional drainage. I was telling my friends a couple weeks ago that going back to San Diego is like getting the "go back to start" card in the Monopoly board game.

All that negativity aside I also feel excited to go back because I do love my family and friends there and I really do believe God's going to guide me. Not to mention that no matter what I'm so privileged to have the opportunities I have-especially when I think of my beautiful, hard-working sisters and bros in the developing world.

By the way, I finally bought my ticket back to the US. I'm leaving July 10th!

It's so weird. For the last four days or so neither Ro nor I have been able to view our blog or any other blog. I can post an entry but I can't view my blog even inside the blogger interface. Everytime I try to look at a blog I get the message, "This page can not be displayed." I thought something was wrong with their server so I was just waiting but then I began to realize something was weird. Then Ro talked to her mom yesterday in Japan and her mom can see our blogs-so what does that mean?? We can't view any blog on any computer in Pohang. Does that mean blogs can't be opened in Korea right now or is it just Pohang? I can reach any other website just as normal. So I tried to email them about it but the blogger request form said, "internal error" whatever that means. (Maybe the same prob is not allowing me to email them through their help form.) I'll try to email them again but just in case it doesn't work could you email them? If you're one of my friends in the States and are familiar with blogger could you email them about the problem. You can give them my blog address. So if you left me a comment...sorry, can't see it.

I was reading about the movie Fahrenheit 9-11 and it reminded me of how crazy America is sometimes. It was slowly coming back to me. Later I was reading a discussion about the movie by some Christian movie critics and one of them went on to talk about how he feels like he has to step away from politics sometimes to keep his sanity. This statement brought to mind a compilation of off-hand comments made to me by various people. In an email from my friend in reference to my returning to the U.S., "...welcome back to crazy, crazy America...", another person replies to my comment on one of Sandy's entries about the U.S. Middle Eastern policy, "But the world is getting crazier, Joyce, and it's getting crazier and crazier."

As everyone knows America is at quite an interesting place right now (and so is the world for that matter) and the culture war is getting more intense as the election draws nearer. But that's not the only thing that makes me sometimes feel that I'm coming back to a circus. It's also that sitting on this side of the world America looks more contrived, manufactured, artificial, hypocritical, swollen, self-indulgent, self-interested, self-loving, self-serving, pretentious and superficial than ever before. Just to name a couple adjectives that come to mind.

Yes, I'm beginning to brace myself for the splash of cold water in my face, that strange awakening from a quiet Korean dream...

I was trying to write the vision statement for the ministry page I'm making and I realized I still don't have it. Some people describe me as a person who knows where they're going and knows what they want. But most of time I feel like that's the farthest thing from the truth. Most of the time I'm just holding onto one truth, "He's a light unto my feet" so I'll take one more step and I can't see much further than that.

Testing...
Let's see if I can link this pic...



This picture was taken after one my classes attacked me with heart stickers on the last day of class. This is a class I had a couple semesters ago. I've since coined this class my "happy class" because they loved each other and me so enthusiastically. When I walked into our last class they covered me with heart shaped stickers with sweet messages. This is the class I hung out with the most outside of class because they were always organizing "class reunions".

I'm going to put up some pics of my classes this semester later...

I was adding some links to my blog and suddenly my font size got huge. I have no idea why. I didn't touch the font attributes! hmmmm...annoying. Maybe it will just go away. Do they seem big to you?

It seems like an eternity since I last posted. I'm sitting here in my dimly lit living room while the rain complains outside my window trying to process the fact that the final exodus from Handong Global University has begun. HGU our warm womb, our still pasture, our quiet remote sanctuary. We are being spit back out into the real, wild world. Yes, the time has begun. I'm speaking, of course, of Sandy leaving Handong permanently yesterday. The four Pohang girls are now beginning to officially disband. (Joanne just seemed to be temporarily absent since she visited a couple months after her departure)

I've also just finished grading and feel a little bit misplaced with out a ton of essays stressing me out. It's like I've finished with all the stress (or most of it...I've still got to screen phone calls from grade-obsessed Koreans once they receive their grades) and now I'm looking out at an ocean of uncertainty and ambiguity as far as my next step goes. However, even while I say this I'm excited for what God's going to do because I know that as I follow Him one step at a time He's going to lead me.

There's a lot more I would like to say about all these things but for now I will leave you with my current inspirational thought:
Don't say to God, "Where..., who..., when.., how...?" but "Show me, God, one moment, one day at a time and whatever You say I will do it."

Ok, now I'm finding something. Remember my child prostitution crisis a month ago. (May 3rd if you want to look it up in my archives) Well, now “the answers are coming, Neo.”

Check out these sites about organizations that are doing something about the problem:
Worldvision

Justice for Children International

My Last Class at Handong Global University...
I walked into my slightly muggy office after saying good-bye to all my dear, cute Freshmen, turned on the fluorescent lights and looked out the window at the rainy day that was coming to a close. Then it dawned on me that this was the last time that I was going to go through this routine. I sat down on the dirty little couch in my office and began to read some of the comments the students wrote on a poster they gave me.

"I don't speak English well. But I feel your kindness and faithful."

"Thanks for your passion to us and I hope you achieve your vision. And thanks for your kindness also."

"I miss you. You are my first foreign teacher. I remember your ability and love."

And the sweet messages go on. Reminding me once again what a beautiful, mysterious thing teaching is. Maybe it's kind of like being an older sibling in the sense that you only get glimpses of the impact you have had on your younger bro or sis in special moments. I think it's the same way in teaching. I've been reminded of this as students that I thought were indifferent towards me were on the edge of tears as they said good-bye.

As I gaze at that bright yellow poster covered with imperfect English expressing their love I can't help but think of grace. Despite my selfishness and frailty, I was still actually able to touch another human being's life. Grace. Grace lovingly protected me in Europe. Grace rescued me from myself. Grace brought me to Handong despite my own willfulness and apathy. Grace gave me the job of my dreams. Grace gave me a coveted position for which I was technically unqualified. It was grace that knew what I truly wanted and needed. It was grace that gave me more than I could think to ask for. It was grace that gave me the greatest fellowship of my life. Grace believed in me and made me great despite the truth that both Him and I know. That I'm just a small, weak child in the hands of a powerful Magician. That anything great in me is mostly an illusion and the power really comes from the great gracious Magician that holds me in His arms.

Until my last class I had been in "get the semester over with" mode. But when I walked into that class and realized it was my very last I knew I had to thank God for the love and grace he had shown me through these last two years at Handong. So I prayed the longest prayer I had ever prayed in a class and I thanked God for pouring out His blessings on someone who really hadn't deserved it. I stood in front of that class full of Freshmen and together with them thanked God for His beautiful...

grace to this child.

well, it looks like I've changed my template. It might be a while though before I put links and comments up because i tried but it didn't work. So that means it's going to take some brain power to figure it out and i doubt i'll expend brain power on anything but grading/essay stuff for the next two weeks. But Ro feel free to break in and try to figure it out if you get the inkling.

escape from myself...
i remember looking out my classroom window at what seemed to be a bright picturesque painting. serene, inviting... out that window there seemed to be nothing but rolling green hills, plush pine trees. it seemed to be so close, so all-encompassing. i've been haunted by the same urge that i felt that day when i was looking out that window.

i want to just step into that painting. put my toes on the sunny ledge of that window and just step into that peaceful, green scene. all my self-loathing and self-doubt would evaporate as I was absorbed into that ethereal, pastoral landscape. i long to just disappear into that clear blue sky...

i've been listening to so many lies lately. i'm being beat to the ground by the accuser. who's the accuser? me or satan? probably both. I have no idea.

please help me, God. i want to be free of the walls that close in on me, of the limits that bind me...

I'm high on a yummy overdose of Cinnamon cappuccino, so hyper with ideas it's hard to type and totally wired from an amazing time with my small group. On top of that my emotions have just been extreme lately. I've had the urge to vent anger, frustration in exaggerated, sarcastic ways lately. (mostly in poetry or blogs) Today I was listening to Alanis Morrisette's angry emotional song, "You Oughta Know" and longing for that kind of venue to let out frustration and pure unadulterated emotion. To just be able belt out at the top of your lungs your hurt, your shame, your anger to an awesome beat. Can you feel it? Doesn't it just make you want to go into a forest where no one can hear you and just shout your brains out?

Recent inspiring thought: "I'm most myself when I'm walking in the Spirit because I was made for fellowship with God." a rough quotation of Pastor Young-ho

I've been under such a weight this last week. Mostly feeling pain over how my job has become something to get done instead of a way to love and serve people. I came back from the church B-B-Q and took a nap perhaps trying to avoid facing this load of sadness. But when I got up I knew I finally had to face it...what kept me from really plowing through it earlier this week was the excuse, "It's too much to work through right now. I'll pray about it later." That excuse just causes more problems and it seems to be a frequent excuse of mine. So after my nap I spent a couple hours journaling and praying. I think I worked through it to a pretty satisfactory point. I really wanted to cry though because I know I needed to. But for some reason I wasn't able to hit close enough.

I think I've decided that I hate writing essays for grad-school applications. I suppose it shouldn't be but it's so mind-numbingly boring. Yes, that would be one of the key words I would use to describe my day: tedious, boring and inefficient. I've been sitting here in my living room all day trying to type out my vocational goals in a coherent and professional manner. What's so hard about that!!!! I have no idea. Please give me a call if you know. Because it takes me stinking foreverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!! I suppose I have about two paragraphs more to write for it but this is just my rough draft and it needs a lot of work. *very annoyed sigh* The bummer thing about this is that I could have written this essay a long time ago had I realized during my winter vacation that I would be this serious about Biola. It makes me wonder was I just not listening to God? I remember being close to filling out the Biola application but then I thought, "na, I'm not that serious about that program". It also didn't help that at that time I was in work visa HELL trying to work out the very strange, elusive problems with my work visa. Well, whatever the case I have come to feel very sure that SIT is not the right program for me and as far as I can see Biola is ideal.

It seems I always get inspired to write poetry at the most inopportune moments. I often become pensive and over-flowing with emotion when I'm grading or doing office work. Countless times I've scribbled poems all over the back of some student's old homework or an old department notice as I work. Ironic-isn't it? That I get inspired while I'm doing something I despise and that is totally contrary to my nature. I'll be working away and then unexpectedly I start sinking into some emotion that I haven't had a chance to dig into. Then suddenly there's a direct line to my heart and I can try to squeeze the juice out of that feeling while it's in me or I can go back to correcting grammar. So often I end up grabbing a piece of paper and jotting down what comes out. Case in point. Here's today's spillage from grading boring paragraphs...

E G H
I once knew a man
what a conundrum
a stern, illegible face
unflinching stability
the absence of emotion

but in his eyes you could see the secret
eyes that smolder like coals
giving away an intensity well-hidden
under layers of cold, sheer rock

a fountain of surprises
perched in his tower
surrounded by ever expanding green rice fields

can you see the warm light flooding out of his round window?
he's pouring over his books late into the night, no doubt
grasping for his image of stability, of approval, of success
with his unquenchable, quiet passion

can I climb the never-ending spiraling staircase
up and up to where you are?

there you are in your white tower
studying in the golden light of your womb
immersed in the black ink of the sky
in your solitary tower

putting out the fire that burns in your soul
throwing sand on the unpredictability of who you are

you are E G H

oxymoron, contradiction, paradox

the one I always wanted to reach
but still I stand alone
in the echoing darkness of the rice fields below you
always outside your tall tower
gazing up at the warm light of your window

So many things have happened lately that it's like holding back a flood writing here. Where to begin? It looks like I've totally changed directions as far as where I'm going to grad-school. I feel the Lord has led me away from SIT and I'm applying to go to Biola in the fall at this very minute. (That’s actually what I should be doing right now.) Another big change is that I've decided to change from a MA in TESL to a MA in Intercultural Studies with an emphasis on TESL. The last week and a half has been a whirlwind of anxiety, prayer and relief. Many times this week I've been suspended in uncertainty looking down upon my once stable, certain career plan. But you know, I'm growing to welcome that. May all my dreams come to ashes, that His dreams may be birthed and bloom from that death! The most recent phrase on my lips has been, "Whatever you want, Lord, I'll do it! Just show me!" By the way, that's a great phrase to constantly repeat and adjust your heart to when you're seeking your next step.

It's also looking like I'm going to be going to Central Asia again on another missions trip. This is totally God's idea. I'm wishy-washy about it but I think it's what He wants. So here I go again on another challenging adventure. The two main thoughts driving this latest mission trip are, "Do you only attempt for God what you can do in your own ability or do you attempt things that only God can do?" and "Dream His dreams, live His love".

more to come...

I'm so excited and enthralled right now I'm actually drooling. (ok, not really but I am really excited right now.)

1. I've been finding a lot of "old school" blogs lately. Blogs of people from my college and/or my past. This is an extremely pleasing discovery for me because for quite a while it felt like all of my friends in the US were completely out of touch with the online movement. (blogger, on-line journal...duh!? What's that?) My on-line community consisted of friends I've met in the last two years (who I adore, of course) and just a couple "old school" friends. (Ro and uhhh...Ro) Which was sad for me because one of the things that caused me to be interested in this form of communication was that I was so often living in different countries, thus always separating from friends. It's also so amazing to hear these voices and places from the past come to life once again through the written word. Before the blogs I usually randomly clicked on(links on other friends' blogs) were results of someone else's past, someone else's friendships. But when I click on multnomah blogs like these (Hutch,Tre), I'm reminded of my own past even though I might not know some of these people. There are people that come from a background similar to mine actually on-line! Wow.

2. Speaking of "old school"!!!! I've found David Johannes' on-line journal! David Johannes, David Johannes... Wow, the memories he brings back. The last time I saw him was during the summer of 1997 at Carrie and Ryan Miller's wedding. We were both in the wedding party. Man, we had a blast goofing around and playing the guitar while Carrie's family was frantically preparing for the wedding around us. I still have a pic of Dave and I jumping in the air while kicking our heels together "Irish jig" style. At that time Dave had a passion for China, if I remember rightly he was taking Chinese classes even at that time. He had brought this Belgian non-Christian guy with him to Carrie's house that he had met in his Chinese class. I remember we had interesting talks with that Belgian guy. I also vaguely remember Dave mentioning a girl that also had a passion for China and now I just found out they're married.

But I can go back even further than that. I remember the first time I talked with Dave. Was I his phone counselor at Teen Mania? I can't remember exactly. But I'm sure that I first met him over the phone. I was a 95-96 intern at Teen Mania and he was going to be a 96-97 intern. He was preparing to start the internship in January, so he was probably calling to ask some questions. All I remember from that conversation was that I was supposed to encourage him but he ended up encouraging me more than I encouraged him. And he wasn't even in the internship yet! Then I remember clearly Dave passionately pacing up and down with the phone glued to his ear as he prayed for teenagers raising money to go on summer missions trips with Teen Mania. Yes, Dave and I worked in the good ole' call center at Teen Mania where our job was to basically function as telemarketers for Teen Mania. A job that many interns easily got discouraged by because of its monotonous non-stop calling pace. But I truly remember looking over at Dave's eager, intense face and being challenged not to give up.

Now I've found this voice from the past once again on-line and once again I am challenged and encouraged by his life. Today he's blazing a trail in China with his wife and I'm so excited to once again be connected to his ministry.

I love on-line journaling...

random question: Why do people tend not to comment on serious entries (myself included) like the entries before this one but people easily comment on light, goofy ones (like the entries I usually write)?

"As unimaginable as it seems, slavery and bondage still persist today. Millions of people around the world still suffer in silence in slave-like situations of commercial sexual exploitation from which they cannot free themselves. Trafficking in persons is one of the greatest human rights challenges of our time. It is, as the International Labour Organization (ILO) points out, the "underside of globalization."'

Why?

"Traffickers exploit the aspirations of those living in poverty and those seeking better lives. They use dramatic improvements in transportation and communications to sell men, women, and children into situations of forced labor and sexual slavery with virtually no risk of prosecution."

A perfect example of this "no risk of prosecution" is Mr. Tom Peters of the documenatry "Easy Prey". He is the British man that I refered to in my May 3rd entry that was doing unspeakable things with young boys in Romania and using them as a sex business for Westerners. But when the documenary came out he wasn't arrested but easily traveled to another country and was just put on a "sex offender" list. Read this very informative report from the U.S. State Department. Don't just turn away but be informed about "the underside" of our riches: one of the greatest human rights challenges of our time.

I had a feeling this was going to happen. This last week I had started to doubt if it was God's will for me to go to SIT this fall. I started to question this because I started to get the feeling that I wasn't going to be accepted. I had interviewed with one of the faculty three and a half weeks ago and had still not heard any response concerning my acceptance. I had been told by the faculty member that I would hear from the school within 2 weeks. So for the last couple days I had been really praying and asking God for his direction. Just a couple days ago I read in the "Experiencing God" workbook, "If you've been praying about something and God answers your prayer in a different way then you expected then follow God in that and adjust your life to God." When I read that I thought, "that's about SIT". So from that point on I started thinking in the back of my mind that I wasn't going to be accepted.

Then last night I was praying and thinking about grad school this fall. I read again in "Experiencing God" this great advice, "If you are in a time of decision pray this prayer as you seek his will 'Lord, whatever your will is I will do it. I make this commitment even before you show me your will.'" Last night I realized that even if I am accepted to SIT that maybe I need to give that up. I realized that I need to step back and ask for God's direction about grad school again. I wish I could just know where I am going and what my next step is. I'm tired of giving people ambiguous replies about my next step. However, I realized last night that this part of faith, trusting God in that time of indecision. So last night I entrusted it to God again and said I was even okay just not knowing. Then this morning I walked in to my office and checked my email. There it was. The acceptance email from SIT. So I've been accepted but now I'm not even sure if I'm going.

Last night I thought this might happen....

It's 1 in the morning and I can't sleep. Sunday night I stayed up until 4 in the morning making two tests for Monday's classes. Before I had started making the tests, I had watched that child sex trade documentary. So as I was making the tests, I was totally preoccupied.

Then when I went sleep at 4 am, right away I started to dream about the documentary. I was still dreaming about it when I was woken up by my alarm clock.

In my dreams I was there somehow with those boys telling them that "he" the trafficker was going to get caught, that there was hope for them and that they should get away from here and on and on.

While making my tests, I decided that I had to do something for them. I had to take action somehow. So I decided that I would fast for them on Monday. I wanted to fast for them as a symbol of my grief and hope for them. A symbol of their plight and a symbol that I'm not looking away from this situation. I also felt that prayer is one of the most powerful weapons at my disposal.

So today I fasted (juice fasted) for them and I was delirious. I was so tired because of both the lack of food and sleep. However, I didn't care I said to myself this is a reminder of what they go through everyday. This reminds me of what it's like to have no safe place to sleep and no food in your belly.

Specifically in the case of the Romanian child sex industry it's the homeless children that often get forced into it because if they cooperate with these Westerners they suddenly have food in their stomachs, money in their pockets and a place to sleep. Even though they don't want to degrade themselves, this can start to look attractive after months of wandering the streets hungry.

I couldn't get these children (actually young teenagers) out of my mind all day. I kept seeing scenes from the documentary and hearing quips from the children.

At one point the director treated a group of these homeless Romanian boys that he had been interviewing to a movie. After the Harry Potter movie, he asked them how they like it. One boy about 13 said he liked it because Harry Potter wasn't afraid. The director asked him if he was afraid. The boy said, "a little" with a sheepish expression.

This particular boy had been forced into a room by a German man and then for some reason the police busted into the apartment so the German man threw the boy out the window. The German man wanted to get rid of the "evidence" that he had been breaking the law.

Another scene from the documentary that haunts me is the footage of one of the Romanian boys sniffing glue, crying and mumbling in his high delirium by the side of the street with the voice of the narrator in the background saying, "this life is destroying him".

Before I broke my fast, I lit a candle for them as a symbol that I remember them and prayed my last prayers of the fast for them. After this I decided to mark May 3rd in my calendar as the day that I remember and pray for all the victims of the booming sex trade industry in the industrializing world.

I'm writing this because I can't sleep. I'm hoping writing this down is going to enable me to go to sleep. Actually, tonight I went to bed at 8 in the evening because I was so exhausted. I later woke up at 10 pm and I haven' t been able to sleep since then which makes me sad because I'm going to be super tired again tomorrow.

good night....

Dear sicko child sex trafficker,
I hope you burn in hell forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever. But before you do I hope some how miraculously you receive a heart of flesh instead of that black, pus-filled heart that you have right now; so that you'll writhe in pain over the precious lives that you used like some sex toy, exploited and then threw away. I hope you suffer as these children did. These children that you stripped of dignity and humanity in the midst of their blossoming, uncertain youth. These children that you found in their poverty and instead of helping them in their weakness; you used them in the most degrading way possible then you made money off them. You're not worthy of hell! I hope there is somewhere special for sickos like you!!

Dear children,
Words can not speak to your pain and to the anger you must feel. But the truth is you may be beyond caring, so hardened and programmed to see it as acceptable that you just numbly live your life. All I can say is, "I am sorry." I'm sorry that so many people turn their head away in apathy. I'm sorry that the Western world turns their head away from the unjust economic systems that they often help create and foster. But I will tell you this I'm not turning my head away. I'm grieving with you today. I'm weeping with you today. I see your pain and I will not forget it. I'm laboring for you in prayer today. I'm fighting for you. I know that there are many others that hear your cry and are fighting for you. Don't give up...

Tonight I watched a special CNN documentary called "Easy Prey: Inside the Child Sex Trade". One particularly troubling part was an undercover filming of discussions with a British man who ran an illegal website with pornographic pictures of young boys in Bucharest, Romania. He actually lived there in Bucharest and slept with all these boys then would advertise on his website for other Westerners to come on "child sex tours" in Bucharest. It was disgusting, especially, because at the time he thought he was speaking to a "customer" which was actually an undercover reporter. To hear him talking about these boys in such an inhumane way, like they were some kind of product. It has literally made me feel like throwing up off and on for the last couple hours.

I've just posted some new poems on my poetry page. Don't get depressed when you read them. :-)

I've been meaning to put this up somewhere. It's not quite a poem so I thought I'd put it here. I just wrote this on a scrap of paper one day when it hit me simultaneously that I had wasted a lot of time but that I was also sure that I never wanted to live like that again. The game was over. No more of that. Just total surrender from this time on.

All the time I wasn't with You
I was just wasting time

I see that now

I wasn't with You so I wandered
I lacked clarity, a steady direction

I see that now

My recent obsessions...
A soft petal of a boy at the orphanage where I volunteer and Rene Magritte's painting Lovers. My students have been working on an essay in which they should react to a photograph or painting of their choice. One of the girls in my class calls me over to ask me about one of the sentences in her essay. Her essay is about blind love among other things then I glance at the painting to better understand what she's trying to explain. I'm suddenly struck by this painting. I feel the meaning of this painting instantly. It transcends words, its feeling is absorbed into my mind. I'm in shock because I've never been impacted by a painting this way. This painting is about the nature of knowing, about intimacy, about being close and yet being so far away. At that moment I started to share with the writer of this essay and her student editor some of my thoughts. They told me, "Oh, we have a proverb about that. It's a Chinese proverb." They went on to quote it in English, "Two people in the same bed. (Still) dream different dreams." I walked around the rest of class in a haze. This painting echoes something in me I can't explain at this moment. Since then I've downloaded the painting onto my computer and have gazed at it daily wanting its meaning to turn into words in my mind.

Then there is my boy at the orphanage. I remember the first time I met him. I was helping a first time university student teach one of the classes at the orphanage. I know this class well. They are a group of wild karate chopping 2nd grade boys. I would often come last semester to help E-han try to control them. They are smart but you have to be extremely entertaining to keep their attention. There they were whirling around, jumping off desks and yelling like crazed indians as usual. But my boy was sitting silently holding his knees as the Korean university student translated for me, "Joyce teacher is going to do a review. You all were here last semester-right?" He yells out, "I wasn't!" in Korean. Later I realize he must be new to the orphanage. It seemed like he was checking out how things work. He hadn't learned yet that when the university students come from Handong you can run around like a maniac. I think when I fell in love with him was at one point in the lesson when we lost control for a spell and all the boys started running around. I looked over and he was laying on the ground with his hands under his head staring at the ceiling with a sad-dreamy look on his face totally unaware of the chaos around him. At that moment I knew he was feeling pain in the way children do. This kind of pain is too deep and profound for their tiny hearts to hold or understand. It's the pain of a loss so basic it can't be comprehended at 7 years old. The loss of simply not being loved by the two people that should have loved you most. I know this because I also was left by my parents. I went over to him and just laid beside him. We later became hug buddies. Later that night before I left the orphange he came over to me and just held onto me for a while. Since then every time I come to the orphanage he walks up to me and gives me a big minute long hug. He has now acclimated to orphanage life. When we come he runs around like a crazy man easily hitting and threatening other children. But when he turns to me he is still the sensitive, kind boy I remember the first day I met him. I'm often praying for him, worrying that all the kindness is going to be crushed out of him in that survival of the fittest atmosphere at the orphanage. I often scheme about how I'm going to adopt him knowing all along it's foolishness....

Yellow dust, oh yellow dust*
why do you coat my desk and my monitor?
go back from whence you came
from the coast of China you flew in a giant yellow cloud
over many black heads, speaking languages unsaid
you flew over dirty streets and over asian style rooftops
through hills and rice fields
but you couldn't resist stopping at a university nestled in the hills by Hung-hey**
you had to spew your fine yellow sand all over a way-guk's*** desk

*yellow dust-some kind of environmental problem that causes yellow dust to be blown over from China to Korea every spring

**Hung-hey-small fishing village near my university

***Way-guk-foreigner in the Korean language

There has been a lot of political buzz on blogs lately. Understandably so. I've been thinking about the war and terrorism a lot lately, too. I'm planning on talking about that later. Hopefully, I'll get around to it. Speaking of political buzz. This a journal of a girl one year younger than me that has been doing humanitarian work in Iraq. Her passion is beautiful. I also recently read on James' blog that he's being sent to Iraq. (You're in my prayers James) The reality of that struggle just came one step closer.

Well, the real intention of this entry is to let you know some of my Uzbek mission trip pics are up, so take a look. :-)

Mixed emotions

central thought...
I'm so glad that I have a home in God. I place I can go when I feel unliked and out of control. A quiet place where I am loved. I m so glad I have a calm embrace that makes everything else stand still. When I walk out the door perhaps many people think I'm lame but I can go back there where I am just simply: known and loved.

chewing away at me...
I feel like some coating has been taken off my life, like God has just irrevocably washed away a part of the atmosphere of my life. I feel he's stripped some of my giftings away, some part of my personality away, so that I can see the false supports that have been holding up my life.

I'm kind of sad that my weekend of solitude is over. Sandy, Ro and I had originally planned to go to Seoul for this 3-day weekend but last minute that didn't work out. Then Sandy and Ro ended up opting to go to a national park, which would be cheaper and closer than Seoul. I, however, much to my surprise decided to stay home and be a hermit instead of go with them. Actually, I love being a hermit. Anyone that knows me well knows that I can be alone for days without any contact with humans and love it! I wouldn't love it forever but I love it for periods of time. Some of my favorite times in university were my drives from San Diego to Portland twice each summer. At first my friends and I thought I would go crazy being 18 hours in my car alone. I ended up eating it up and after one trip I didn't want anyone to come with me on the next one. ;-) The drive is incredibly beautiful cutting through southern Oregon's plush countryside and Northern Californian's mountains. It stays beautiful until the middle of California then it starts to get flat and desert like. But nonetheless I loved it, being alone with my thoughts. Being totally anonymous. I found that my thoughts would go through a pattern. First, I would think about the more immediate. The people I just left, the papers I just finished. Then after hours of sifting through that my mind would start to drift to deeper things. I would start pondering meaning, culture, life. Then my mind would drift into my own life, start to take the wrapping off different experiences, feelings and after hours of trees whipping by me I would start to untie knots in my mind. I remember slowly making peace with people, with situations during those many hours in my cream-colored Toyota. Those times are also full of memories of fellowship with my invisible passenger: Jesus. My prayers became thoughts and my thoughts became prayers all through those hours. I remember once when driving through the mountains in June I was so struck with the beauty of the scene before me that I pulled my car over to the side of the thin mountain road and sang in worship, "Mountains bow down and the sea shall roar at the sound of your Name!!!" That's a sweet memory.

I also had one of my scariest moments on one of these trips but I still can't help but look back at it with fondness. It was my first time driving up to Portland and it was the only time I did it during the winter. I made the mistake of choosing to ascend into the mountains close to nightfall. Being an amateur driver of this route I didn't realize that if I didn't sleep at the hotel at the foot of the mountains that I wouldn't have another chance to pull over for at least an hour. It was a skinny two-way road and my only companions were semi-trucks that like to hog the road and go faster than me up the steep incline. It became scary when the rain started to pour down and as I drove along at 40 miles an hour I literally couldn't see anything. What made it worse were the semi-trucks. I was going too slowly for them. They couldn't pass me, so they would just honk. I wanted to get off the highway so bad but every exit sign that I could make out said, "no services". I was really afraid that I was going to crash into something because it was raining so hard on that dark, slippery mountain road. I felt I had to keep driving though because there was nowhere to pull over and if I did pull over I was afraid that someone would hit me. So to prevent myself from panicking I repeated, "Jesus, help me" for about 45 minutes straight until I finally saw an exit sign that displayed the hotel symbol! I remember when I got out of my car I was so thankful for that small family owned hotel nestled in the middle of the mountains. I was shaking when I went to go check in but no one noticed. The next morning I took off for the last 7 hours of my trip to Portland and driving away from the hotel it started to snow. However, being the kook that I am I actually said out loud in my car, "ha, bring it on, I've just been through the mountains in a rainstorm!!!" The snow turned out to be no problem and I made it safely to Portland.

By the way, everything went well with that busy week I told you about on March 28th. Thanks for praying for me. I was really freaked out about speaking at the Wednesday chapel but I think it worked out well. If I do say so myself. :-0

You know I should change the name of my blog to something super eye-catching like, "where is my soul" or "International deep thoughts" so that when people see my blog on the blogger thing they'll click on it. Well, I guess that's a dumb idea and I'm just goofing around waiting for my student to show up. I'm going to be so relieved when I finally get some free-time tonight. Whoo-hooo! However, I've got to have 10 writing conferences with students tonight. I can't wait for those to be over! Then I'm free at last... doop-a-doop....bee-bop....thank God I'm free at last.

Man, I'm really sick right now. I feel miserable. I caught some cough thing Friday night and man, it brought me down quick. Unfortunately, I have an especially busy week because this week I'm starting to train the new members of MNE how to teach English at the orphanage. So I have two meetings with them this week in addition to speaking at the English Chapel this Wednesday. And Tuesday afternoon I'm supposed to have writing conferences with one of my sections and that really drains you. I'm worried I'm not going to have the energy for all this! So please pray for me!

Here's another quote from a different student's outline on the same topic. hehe This one makes me chuckle because of its witty insight.

"If you marry, you will regret it. If you don't marry, you will also regret it." Soren Kierkegaard

haha

I just read some random blogger writing about how she blogs too much for her own good. I totally hear that. There's nothing like blogging to suck you in from the stress you're supposed to be experiencing. For example, I should be stressed about editing my essay but of course instead I end up getting sucked into some random person's blog that has a hard time using any form of punctuation. But on to what I really want to talk about...

I want to share with you these amazing emails I've gotten from one of the students I had in Uzbekistan. God's really working in her life. Please pray for her. A couple days before our team left Uzbekistan we had a small church service in a house and invited the Uzbek students. After this service her and I went on a long walk and talked about God, religion, poetry and absolute truth. She shared with me about how she lays in her bed at night and wonders what is true. Her basic thesis was "there is one truth in the world I just don't know which truth it is, so I'm not going to take sides (as far as claiming a religious affiliation). Her family is traditionally Catholic but her country is mostly Muslim. Weeks after I left she sent me this email about her question "What is the truth?"

(I haven't changed anything about the following emails. For some reason she writes in caps lock.)
HELLO,MY DEAR FRIEND!
I'M SO GLAD TO HAVE A MASSAGE FROM YOU . THANK YOU FOR PRAYING FOR ME.
I'VE READ A BIBLE!!!!!!!!
I WAS SO SUPRISED WHEN I READ JOHN 14,6 ! THERE WAS AN ANSWER TO MY
QUESTION:"JESUS TOLD HIM,I'M THE TRUTH AND THE WAY....." THAT COULDN'T
BE!!!!! BUT I REALLY WANT YOU TO EXPLAIN ME JOHN 14,30 AND
31.PLEASE!


I'M FINE.LAST WEEK I WAS PRESENTED
WITH 50$ FOR MY "GREAT IMPROVEMENSIN
KOREAN!!!AND SPECIAL
WATH!!WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'LL WRIGHT YOU
SOON....


(This is a email she wrote me and the Uzbek team just yesterday. Praise God! Pray for her!)
HELLO,MY DEAR FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>HOW ARE YOU?WHAT IS THE KOREAN WEATHER LIKE?
>NOW WE HAVE VERY GOOD WEATHER IN COMPEARENCE WITH WHAT WE HAD A WEEK
AGO.!
>IT WAS SO TERRIBLE !BUT NOW SPRING'S ALREADY COME,SO I'M TOO HAPPY &
FEEL
>OK.AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?HOW DO YOU FEEL THESE DAYS?
>I HAS BEEN SO THOUGHTFUL LATELY!I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS HAPPENING
TO ME.
>I'M BECOMING RELIGIOUS!THAT'S GOOD BUT VERY STRANGE,BECAUSE NOBODY
TAUGHT
>ME THE THINGS I THINK.I BEGAN TO SPEAK SO MUCH ABOUT GOD,SO EVEN MY
MOM
>SAID "YOU WOULD BE A GOOD CRISTIAN,DON'T YOU WANT TO COME TO CHURCH
WITH
>ME?"
>I'M A BIT COMPLICATED.MAY BE THE LAST SUNDAY WE MET HAS AFFECTED ME SO
>MUCH?! I DON'T KNOW,BUT ANYWAY I'M HAPPY & THANK GOD I HAVE MET YOU!
>I WOULD BE VERY GLAD IF YOU HELP ME TO UNDERSTAND MYSELF.
> YOUR FRIEND
,KSENYA.................

AAHAHahahaAHAh!! I just taught such a bad lesson. A load of sadness has descended on me. I didn't prepare enough to teach a "grammar tense review" and that makes me insecure coming into the class. Cuz then I'm afraid they're going to ask me some really specific question I can't answer. Sandy was telling me before class, "Don't worry about it. I never study the grammar before I go into class. I just figure it out in class." Then we decided it wasn't that I didn't know the grammar it's that I freeze up when they ask me technical questions. So she was giving me tips on how to stall for time while looking for the answer. But I think that just doesn't work for me, it just freaks me out to walk into class and not be sure I can answer any question they throw at me. So my whole class I felt I was hummmming and hawwwwwing, "ummmmm, I don't know why, Byeong-il" and then blushing some more. I think they could all see it. I felt like a shy child up there and I think I've lost their confidence in me. (sigh) And on top of this I've acquired this incredible propensity towards blushing!!!! It's a nightmare!!!!!! For the last six months I've been noticing an accelerating tendency in me to blush beet-red in mildly embarrassing moments, which then succeeds in making me truly embarrassed. And on top of that I told my students about that but then later regretted this because I think that made me blush more.

I was grading outlines of essays today about "3 characteristics I'm looking for in my future spouse" and Jada strikes again. This is her second time in one of my classes and she always writes the greatest stuff. One of her entries on our class's online discussion board last semester totally blessed me. Well, this time it's the quotes on her outline. They're keepers. So I wanted to write them here before I gave her outline back.

"Keep your eyes wide open before marriage, half shut afterwards." Benjamin Franklin

"The difficulty with marriage is that we fall in love with a personality, but we must live with a character." (this one's the best) Peter Devries

"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly."

Tonight is rich with sad melodies. One of the students at my university drowned in the ocean while at a DTS in Hawaii. His friends saw his dead body bobbing in the water but couldn’t reach him. They said he was smiling. Angry Israeli and Palestinian voices are threatening each other on the news with new force because of today’s assassination of one of the top leaders of Hamas. My students are feeling anxious about their presently leaderless country. I listened to one of the teachers at my school tell me over lunch how she’s been lonely having no one to talk to while she’s been preparing to have her first baby. She shrugged it off but I saw the sadness in her eyes. How did I not see it before? I’ve been feeling a new wave painful enlightenment about myself. And I’m listening to a song that has always brought inspired tears to my eyes…

I believe in faithfulness.
I believe in giving of myself for someone else.
I believe in peace and love.
I believe in honesty and trust
But it’s not enough
For all that I believe will never change the way it is unless…
I believe that Jesus lives

Where there is faith there is voice calling
“Keep walking, you’re not alone in this world”
Where there is faith
There is a peace like a child sleeping
Hope everlasting in He who is able to bear every burden, to heal every hurt in my heart
It is a wonderful, powerful place.
Where there is faith

There’s a man across the sea (this is the part that always brings tears to my eyes)
He’s never heard the sound of freedom ring
Only in his dreams
There’s a lady dressed in black
He’s not coming back
When our hearts to begin to fall and our stability grows weak
Jesus meets our needs
If we only believe

Where there is faith there is voice calling
“Keep walking, you’re not alone in this world”
Where there is faith
There is a peace like a child sleeping
Hope everlasting in He who is able to bear every burden, to heal every hurt in my heart
It is a wonderful, powerful place.
Where there is faith

Ok, I'm only writing for a minute cuz I have to start my "Experiencing God" study book before I go to bed. I was just reading everyone's blogs and thinking it's just so crazy-we're all so different but yet we're a community. I've become apart of what I've heard about on the news at times, "The internet is becoming a platform for community and blah, blah" in a dry newscaster voice. But yup, I guess I've joined the club, jumped on the bandwagon and so on. And in closing I want to say I'm still working on my grad essay and it's super annoying. Good night.

Since I'm not in the US I've been a bit islolated from the kind of impact this movie is making. Check out these stats that I took from hollywoodjesus.com "The Passion of Christ remains #1 three weeks in a row. Beats Return of the King with biggest Wednesday opening ever and the sixth biggest opening of all time! The 2nd highest R-rated opening (behind Matrix Reloaded)." I knew it was making an impact but I didn't realize it was that big.

I finally have internet in my house!!!! It's even in my room!!! Wow, luxuries of luxuries!!! Albeit it is dial-up!! Booo! Booo! But something is better than nothing. Yeah yeah!! (insert-the clanging of cymbals) Yeah-yeah-yeah! (insert-the echoing boom of drums)

By the way, I just want to tell you before I crawl into bed (and my bed is one foot away I'll have you know......HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE(this should be read as a mad cackle)) that I was watching Donald Trump on Larry King Live earlier and it was astounding how.....um... how shall I put this? arrogant he was. It reminded me once again that are a lot of people out there who are obsessed with money and power. His assumptions were punching me in the face. At times I was like, "is he serious?" But, of course, he is, Joyce. Hello, there are lots of people out there like this-remember??!! One caller asked him on live TV, "Which is bigger: your ego or your bank account?" hehehe He answered to Larry, "I haven't met one successful person who doesn't have a big ego? Have you, Larry?" Actually, I felt like at times he was making Larry King uncomfortable-if that's possible.

For all those who have recently gotten a blog (because it seems like lately blogger only has ugly templates for new bloggers) or for those are tired of their blog template you can go to http://blogskins.com/ to get a new template.

I had one of those dreams this morning that really sucks you in. I was really emotionally involved in this dream until my alarm went off and even then it took me a while to shake off the emotions it evoked. Now that I'm writing it, it sounds kind of goofy but at the time it was real to me. I was getting married. It was the day of the wedding and everyone was there. I was singing a song to my husband-to-be about my love for him but when I looked at him I realized I didn't love him. I knew at that moment that if I married him I'd be making the worst mistake of my life. But then I started to panic because I was going to have to tell him and all the guests that the wedding was canceled. So that is what I was in the middle of doing when my alarm went off. My husband-to-be was so upset and so were all the guests. I guess it's all the marriage talk in my office lately. It's giving me nightmares. :-)

I've been avoiding writing lately. It's hard for me to write if I can't just break open and be honest about what I'm feeling right at the moment. Unfortunately, at this point in time I'm feeling annoyed and stressed in combination with the feeling that I don't have time to delve into what I'm really feeling. It's also annoying me that I'm just beating around the bush and thinking to myself "I've got to go, I can't get into this right now."

Tonight I had dinner with Min, Sandy, Ro and Jeannie in one of the school's restaurants. I actually had two pieces of pie not to mention the piece of pie I had with my lunch. I've been eating a lot ever since I got back from Uzbekistan. This fact caused us to start discussing the possibility that I might have a worm. Which, of course, became a big joke and a great scapegoat. When I'd say something slightly inappropriate (which I'm occasionally known to do) it would, of course, be the worm's fault.

This is one of those times that I'm not in the mood to write but I'm doing what I know I should do instead of doing what I feel like. What a good girl. I'm mostly doing it for all the faithful out there. (yo word up... faithful out there is meant to be read with a rapper accent) I've been listening to this old 80's song, "Don't Dream It's Over" for the last 2 hours that I've been in my office. In the last couple hours I've gone through a wide range of emotions. I'm wondering if it's the influence of the song's nostalgic feel. For a while I was thinking about old friends that have faded into my past and the good times we had. Then I was thinking about my grams. I was thinking about what she told me once after she got out of an over-night stay in a hospital because of a minor surgery. Her room had been on one of the top floors of a sky-scraper sized hospital. "I watched the whole city wake up through my window. The highways below looked like strings of light and then you know what I saw? I saw a moth flying near my window. Isn't that something? A moth way up there." Something about her curious musings about that has always struck me as poetic. Perhaps because I remember it with the backdrop of the relief I felt that she was alive and not seriously ill as I feared before her surgery. Healthy enough to leave the hospital with me and tell me about the moth that visited her window.

This is my first blog entry from my new notebook computer. This is a special moment. :-) Tomorrow is my first day of classes and sadly I've been way too busy with non-stop meetings to prepare the way I would like. This weekend we had the small group leaders retreat for Handong International Church, our English speaking church on campus. God's doing great things in that ministry. Ro and I were talking about what a pity it is that we are leaving after this semester is over. This one of the best churches I've ever been apart of.

Right now there's a lump of sadness in my heart. There have been so many things on my mind and not enough time to process all of it...