Pieces of the Heart

This weekend, one of my close friends came to visit Orange County, and as she was leaving today, I felt a little sad...as if pieces of one's heart are left with close friends, and as they leave, they take a little piece of it with them. When I get to see my close friends again, I feel a little more complete, a little more whole.

(This may be my period talking.)

A Vacation in Mexico

“Doo too di doo” or “Blah blah blah blah blah” or “***************”

These are variations of what I heard from the person checking my boarding pass as I stepped onto the Volaris airplane—It was a long and fast slew of Spanish words that I couldn’t make out. “What?” was my immediate response. Then he repeated everything he had said to me in English: “Give this part of your ticket to my co-worker over there.” “Ok.”

Thus was the beginning of my adventures in Mexico.

I’ve been trying to pick up words and phrases in Spanish, and some of my Spanish vocabulary from high school (6 years ago) comes back to me more and more the longer I am here. Big thank you to Sr. Zavaleta, my high school Spanish teacher, and my mom, who when I wanted to take Japanese in high school said “No, you’re taking Spanish because it will be more useful to you.” Mama knew best.

At the printing shop, we get a lot of Spanish-speaking customers. I found a phrase that I am going to use with my Spanish-speaking customers: Precios bajos. Guarantizado. = Low prices. Guaranteed. ;-)

Some things I found of interest in Mexico:

VIP Theaters- a theater with reclining leather chairs, a table for the food you get, and cupholder for your drinks...relaxing way to watch your movie. Perfection.

Pedestrian Light- The walking man walks at first, and then he walks faster than starts skipping and then running, and then the red light goes on. Clever. I like!

Outdoor gyms- There’s a bunch of outdoor work-out machines, very basic ones of course, but I think that’s cool. To me, I think it encourages working out.

Running- There was this 5km route that I ran that was labeled at every 0.25km. It was a really nice route. I don’t see many trails like this in the US that are labeled for walkers and runners. I see it sometimes on dirt trails for hiking. Does anyone know any?

Guadalajara

Very nice city. The time I spent there reminded me of Vietnam...on the back of a motorcycle, with a helmet that barely fits me, wind racing through my hair and dirt in my eyes.

Guadalajara Zoo

One of the best zoos. There was even an aquarium, a safari (we could hand-feed the giraffes), huge bird cages, and more.

Shopping Mall- part indoor/part outdoor. Very beautiful.

Guanajuato

Beautiful beautiful town. Reminds me of what I see Europe looking like in the movies with stones on the ground and tiny alleys and lots of bands singing and playing music to people at restaurants.

Some things surpass language barriers…sitting eating this Torta Ahogada, and I just felt so warm and welcome even though I tried to tell her food was delicious and she didn’t understand me.

Mummies…this town is really into death

Mines

Torture chambers of some sort

Lots of singing and comedic entertainment

Mexico City

Lots and lots of people! Mexico City apparently ranks 5^th for the most populated city. New York is 4^th. Who knew? I didn’t believe it until I got here. There ARE a lot of people.

Travel Tip: A lot of taxi drivers don't want to use the meter because they want to take the money under the table. It works if you know the correct price. If you're a tourist, try to get a taxi driver who uses the meter. I don't think I've ever travelled anywhere without someone trying to jip me.

Also, Get a hotel in 5 De Mayo street! We’re staying at Hotel Juarez right now, which I like. It’s only 220 pesos a night (right now, $1 USD = 10.8 pesos). The hotel we were staying the day before was Hotel Reforma for 599 pesos and both receptionists we met were unhelpful and always looked irritated. We called them “Mr. Sunshine” and “Miss Sunshine.” The only person we liked in that hotel was the Bellboy, an old man who always smiled at us and bowed at us too. I think he thought we were Japanese. I was really confused when he kept bowing at us, and I was like I’ve never seen a Mexican bow at someone. Chris says that he probably saw some Japanese or Chinese people in a movie bowing at each other and thought that he was following our custom. That made me laugh. I thought it was cute he made that extra effort.

Plaza

Pyramid- There were lines like Disneyland just to get to the pyramid and then in the middle of the pyramid another couple lines for us to proceed to the top. So many people selling souvenirs.

In the plaza

Government Palace

Good Friday Celebration!

Art Gallery

Art Gallery

Food

Torta

Cebolla Asada (?)- Grilled Onions

Chicken Tamale

Sauce

Churros stuffed with chocolate

Pasab...don't remember name. The bread was fried with oil.

Thank you to Chris for housing me, driving me, helping me with Spanish, planning hotels and tours. Good times!

The Power of Love

‎"Love measures our stature: the more we love, the bigger we are. There is no smaller package in all the world than that of a man all wrapped up in himself."
– William Sloane Coffin

Vulnerability-hate or embrace

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

I hold a guard up. With a major in Psychology, I'm always trying to analyze myself...why am I so guarded? If there is something I learned from watching my mom, it's that life usually doesn't turn out like you plan it to...and someone could be here today and gone tomorrow. She said make sure you're financially independent by yourself before you get married because you never know what will happen. The day my mom and dad got married, I don't think they ever thought that they would be divorced and barely able to look at each other. Then there was her next boyfriend...he was someone that was willing to go out of his way for anyone...and he died of cancer. After that, my stepdad. I've seen very little people sacrifice as much comfort as he did to be with my mom. Then he left. And now another boyfriend...he's one of the most kindest, most generous people I have ever met. I don't want to depend on a guy for money or too much of anything for that matter...I guess because I'm waiting for them to leave. I have a fear of abandonment. It's also why I make an effort to respond to people...texts, calls, emails, whatever...I'll respond...because I want people to feel like I'll be there for you, or at least I'll make an effort to do what I can.

When I had my first boyfriend, I would always ask this question, "If we don't work out, we're still gonna be friends right?" I had a hard time believing that romantic relationships could last. My fears prevented myself from putting a lot of effort into it...a part of me was very slow to show affection...but when I did, when I finally felt like I could, that I could see a future with this person, I gave everything I had. I loved and I was vulnerable, and I was heartbroken for it.

I used to hate showing any vulnerability...I always wanted to show people, especially my family, that I'm ok, I'll be ok, and I'm stable. If I ever cried, it was usually silent and in the privacy of my bedroom or bathroom, etc. But in the end, being vulnerable beats always being guarded. Being vulnerable is a risk and a gamble, but I got the chance to become close to someone and it was someone that changed my life. When I took down the wall, I was able to connect to many more people on a more intimate level.

Sometimes when you're vulnerable with someone, you get hurt for it....but honestly, so what? Everyone gets hurt. Time heals all...and in the end, it'll be ok. It's so cliche for people to say, but I keep remembering that...what's the worst that could happen if you show that you're vulnerable? You get hurt...and then you only have one option after that: to get over it.

Vulnerability...I used to hate it, but the more older I'm getting, the more I'm making an effort to embrace it.

The Flower That Never Finished Blooming

Over three years ago, on Valentine's Day, my friend died. Just like that. Sudden. Died. Gone. Forever.

She died, and I couldn't feel sorry for her. This was no car accident. This wasn't cancer. This was a choice. All of these people trying to hold on for dear life, so that they could see their child's wedding, see their grandchildren born, enjoy life with their partner even if just for another day...all of these people just praying for the health that she had so that they could see more, more of what this world has to offer...and she gave it all up. During morning band practice, my band teacher always said "look around you. People would die to be in your position right now, to be able to walk on the grass under the sun." She took the luxuries of life and health for granted. She threw it all away.

She threw it all away for this:

Her friends wondering if she was missing, calling all over the place to find out where she was, fearing and not knowing where she was, who she was with, what could have been happening to her.

Her mom finding the corpse of her 21 year old daughter in her bedroom.

Her family and friends dropping everything to fly in and drive to Orange County to see her one last time.

Her friends all posting on her Facebook page asking her to tell them, to respond to them, telling them it's not true.

Her younger sisters at a funeral, wearing white, being forced to understand what a family tragedy looks like.

I couldn't help feeling like..."You're fuckin selfish."

And then I took a step back, and I wondered, and I still wonder how bad does life have to be to make me want to kill myself...to throw all of it away? Do I have to be absolutely hopeless? Or hopeful for a better place after I'm gone? Is it courage or cowardice to go? To stay? Is it vengeance?...to get back at someone for not caring more or showing more attention? Is it a feeling of "I'll show them"?

I can't imagine what she went through...what it feels like to be at your breaking point...being so sure about giving it all up. I wonder that if she knew how many people she hurt when she left, would she still have chosen the same path? Did she not know? Or is that selfish of me expecting her to live for others?

But in the end, all I have are speculations. I don't know why she did what she did, but all I know is at her funeral, I saw genuine sadness, genuine confusion, genuine guilt, genuine change in their lives.

I keep imaging her mom accomplished after many difficult hours as she gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, smiling that anything is possible, optimistic that she will give this little girl the best life possible, everything she never had. And then I imagine her mom, feeling like a failure, living in that house tainted with her daughter's death, passing by an empty bedroom with a sight that constantly bleeds into her memories. I imagine guilt trickling through her veins every day until the day she dies. I imagine that it would be like someone tearing your chest apart and ripping out your heart. How horrific is it when someone harms your child? How horrific is it when the person you cannot protect your child from is herself?

We were friends, me and her. I can't say we were close, but we were friends. We lived together in the same house for 4 months abroad. I would say we were family actually...she wasn't someone I chose to live with, but she was someone I would support because God had picked it out that way. For some reason, we were two stars plucked out of the sky to live together in the same house at the same time for those 4 months.

I keep thinking...if I had said something differently, if I had noticed she was depressed, if I had sparked some hope in her somehow, if something changed in history, would this story have still played out the same? And in my gut, I feel like if something could have changed, the story would have been different. And I don't know if that something could have been me. I wasn't that close to her, but then again sometimes you don't have to be close to someone to change the course of their lives...you just share that glimmer of hope, that bag of optimism, that sea of support, and sometimes when you least expect it, you strike a cord with them that changes a life.

I try to remember that when I'm around strangers...many of them are your friends and family just waiting to happen.

Her stepfather said she was like a blooming flower, and she gave it all up. The world was at her fingertips. He told us don't ever give up. He told us we have so much to look forward to. He said don't be like her. Don't give all of it up.

Sometimes I fear that one day I will want to give up on life and I fear that one day I will cease to find the activities, the relationships, and the learning to be interesting or intriguing. So I try...I try to keep learning and doing new things and find ways to contribute to the community....my efforts to engage myself in life. And I try to respond to people who want to hang out or spend time with me as best I can because she taught me that life and death hangs on a thread, and that thread can topple over in seconds. So I try....I try to prioritize family and friends because they are more important than money and property, than academic grades, than artificial accomplishments or rewards. Life is like a relationship...you have to make an effort to have a great one.

Sometimes you feel like you're in a dark tunnel by yourself, but there's a light out there if you keep going. If you stop, you cut off your chances of ever getting a glimpse of the light. I haven't found a love that I want to spend the rest of my life with yet. I haven't felt the pain of childbirth yet. I haven't given a toast at my siblings' weddings yet. I haven't become truly financially independent yet. I haven't been sky-diving yet...or bungee jumping. There's a billion places I haven't seen, and billions of people I have not yet had the chance of meeting. When I get sad or lonely, I try to keep all of this in mind ...a wondrous amount of things that life has to offer.

I hold her close to my heart. We weren't that close in her life, but she's dear to my heart because of all the life lessons she has taught me through her death. It's been over 3 years, and I still wonder...the kind of woman she would have grown up to be, what she could have contributed to society, the laughs she could have brought, the hugs she could have given, the advice she would have shared, even the tangerines she would have peeled. Everything was taken away the moment she chose to take the path less traveled. That's the sad part about death. The world misses out on all of this.

A quote from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury:

"'When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them just the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I've never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands. He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.'"

-J.Pham