London 2013

 

Here is a little glimpse of my race at the ITU Age Group World Championship in London:

 

 

Pre-race swim on Saturday at the Lido in the Serpentine in Hyde Park.

 

Suiting up! (It is very cold.)

 

Pre-race staging with my age group.

 

 

Running from the Serpentine to transition. Please don't zoom in on this photo too closely, as it is rather frightening.

 

After the race, my mom asked me, "How was riding by Buckingham palace?" I responded, "I don't know. I don't remember it." But here's proof that I did, in fact, pass it.

My feet started to warm up about half-way through the run.

 

 

Age 25-29 World Champs!

 

 

For a more detailed glimpse, see the post I wrote on the Post Calvin, here.

 

 

Huge thanks to my mom for raising money for me to go to London with her "London Series" of gourd art. Thanks to everyone who purchased London Series gourds and/or supported me in other ways!

 

Blog-in-One: All those entries I didn't write.

So. It's been awhile, huh? That whole blogging-about-ordinary-life thing really went well for me, right? I guess I forgot about the insane busyness of ordinary life. The kind of busyness where you aren't entirely sure what is making you so busy; all you know is that you feel like you are at a constant sprint because the finish line is always in sight, but somehow you never cross it. And next thing you know, you are getting up again--far too early, I might add--to do it all again...

I would have said that, even amidst all the busyness, not much has happened since my last blog entry. Just a lot of work. A lot of biking, a moderate amount of swimming, a bit of running... Definitely nothing big or life-changing. But when I sat down and thought about it the other day, I realized that some things have happened. Fairly significant things, surely at least blog-worthy. Life changing? Well... who knows.

I think that at this stage of my life (my whole 24 years, I know) I have realized the futility of trying to attempt to predict the events that may or may not be life-changing. Any event is, in fact, a part of life, and thus has the potential to make an impact. And I'm starting to think that the course of one's life is usually directed, not in a few huge, Emmaus-Road-type moments, but in a whole bunch of small, subtle, seemingly insignificant decisions and seemingly random occurances. Who knows.

Anyways, back to the point: what's been going on since the last time I wrote? Well, enough that the events would have made quite a few nice, short, manageable little blog entries. But since I don't want to overwhelm you too much with all the humble events of my last few months, I'm going to revert to good ol' list format. And I'll try to be brief--with the knowledge of how my attempts at brevity usually go...

Bearathon: My first half marathon. I mostly signed up for this to ensure that I would start running again. Since running is part of triathlon. But I wasn't sure how I would feel about this race--or about such a looong race. Well, it was shockingly fun! I couldn't walk normally for a week after--meh, small details.

Austin to Shiner: My first century (100-mile) bike ride. Another attempt at triathlon training. Thought I should get some base training on the bike since I am completely new at it. So, why not do a century? And how to choose which century? Well...which one has the best after party? The one that ends at the Spoetzel Brewery in Shiner, TX, obviously.

Re-enchanted: My family's spur-of-the moment trip to New Mexico. This obviously could have been its own post. The mere fact that I'm an aunt again could have been its own post. Anyways, Mom, Dad, and I took a very short road trip to NM to see my brother and his (now bigger) family. It was really nice to spend time with them. Mom and I also got to ride our bikes for a few miles of my friend's cross country biking trip! Pictures, here:

Auntie Calah Strikes Again

Bisiklet Shiprock (for Haiti)

Lifeguards don't just sit in charis: My first (two) saves. I know you all thought that my main job description as a lifeguard is to model my super-duper-stylish fanny pack. But there is so much more to my job. Namely, saving lives...

Who needs a wet suit? My first triathlon. In early May, Mom and I did a sprint triathlon north of Dallas. The water was cold and we were among the few participants that didn't have wet suits. But we survived. Moreover, I have become another statistic: I am addicted. (Note: since the time I started this post a month ago, I have done my second tri. Yesterday, in fact. Olympic distance this time--it's a whole different animal.... Yep, still addicted, though.)

Old friends, new town: My first trip to Seattle. I decided way back in January that if I was going to stay in Waco all spring, I deserved a vacation. My friends Christina and Jeff decided to get married, partly with the intention of giving me a great excuse to go to the Northwest--somewhere I have always wanted to spend time, but hadn't gotten to experience yet. It was fun to see some friends who I hadn't seen in years (literally) and to run (literally) all around Seattle. I also got to see Ali and do the things we used to do in Viet Nam (talk, drink tea, talk, eat, talk, etc.) but not in Viet Nam. Not that I was really worried, but it was nice to know that we like each other as much in the USA. :)

And there are, of course, the less tangible things that have happened. The ones that don't fit into nice lists. Like feelings and relationships and frustration and growth and learning about life and silly (and serious) conversations with my parents. The things that are always there, no matter what is "happening." Maybe I'll try to be better about this blogging thing, because more frequent blogging allows better for inclusion of those intangibles. And isn't it the intangibles that are really the point?

I mean, don't hold your breath. We all know how it went the last time I said I would be better about blogging. But...Hey, I've missed you guys. :)

sabbath at the beach

Today Mom and I had our first real day off since we've been here, and it was wonderful. The Jameses took us and some other volunteers to the beach!

After an hour and a half of jolting (have I mentioned how crazy the roads are here? Everyone has 4x4s--because they actually need them!) up and down the mountain and through Cap Haitian, we had a lovely time.
I left my swim suit in Port, never thinking I would go to the beach while treating cholera in Limbe! But it was "no pwoblem."


I ran along the beach for a while before jumping in and looking at the fish and spikey monsters on the bottom (they are like sea porcupines--not nice to step on, from what I hear). The beach was quiet and peaceful--great for reading a book.

Afterwards we had a fabulous lunch that included ice cream (!) and pina coladas. :) Not too bad...

My only regret was when I discovered this giant backgammon board and wished my dad was there to play it with me.

Then it was the jolting (but did I mention beautiful?) ride home.

Oh, by the way, I officially pronounced the "C" word (cholera) off limits for the day. It was a nice change. :)

a view from the other side of the mountain

Sorry about the delay in posts! It is not that nothing has been happening here in Haiti; on the contrary, as soon as I finally started to feel like I had lots to write about, our computer got a virus, and we have been struggling with it for days. So I have been going nuts, feeling like I haven't been able to do what I came for. Typical, I suppose, a little hint to "Chill out, Calah, you aren't as in control as you think you are." Or, to put it another way, an opportunity to notice and appreciate the kindness of others! The computer I am typing this on is a generous loan to me while Mom and I work on getting our laptop cleaned up. (After many frustrating attempts, we have finally admitted our inability to do this ourselves and are awaiting a chance to give it up to the experts at a shop!)

On Monday, Mom and I went on a spur-of-the-moment overnight trip to Jacmel, a little beach town over the mountain. This trip exemplified a reality I have already felt strongly in my week here: Haiti is a place of extremes.

Driving in Haiti is something of an adventure; there is a reason most vehicles are 4x4 (and why they are in the shop more than out of it). But this wasn't what exhausted me. Rather, as I gazed out of the window, I felt like I was being pounded repeatedly over the head with a heavy board. To get to the beach, we drove through downtown Port-au-Prince, passing millions of tents, including some set up in the median of the highway; past a huge, smoking rubbish heap; by Cite Soleil, one of the largest slums in the Northern Hemisphere (even before the quake); and through the town of Leogane, which is located at the epicenter of the quake and was 90% destroyed by it.

Even though I had been in Haiti for a week already, this 2-hour tour of devastation and poverty struck me like a cinder block. After this scenic tour, I decided that visiting Haiti could either break my heart or turn it to rock; I was somewhere in the middle, teetering on the brink of one of these two options.

In general, I have been shockingly unemotional, even when I see things that are probably supposed to shock me. When I saw my first tent village, I was actually impressed by its relative cleanliness and order. Our media prepares us for these things. What has boggled my mind is the scope of the poverty.

Then we finally reached the end of the cities and started to climb the mountain. As the cities dropped away, I saw the other Haiti: a land of exquisite beauty and vast resources, a jewel that various countries lusted and fought over during colonial times. Of course, there was plenty to pull at my heartstrings in the countryside too; if Haiti's countryside is gorgeous now, it is nothing to what it must have been before colonization. Deforestation and its effects are obvious. Yet I was still surprised by the beauty I saw.

Why was I surprised? As John, the man we were traveling with, said, "Everyone focuses on Haiti's devastation. People take pictures of the the trash heaps, not the mountains."

And it's true. Even though the view of poverty hit me hard that day, I was not unprepared for it. And, like the good journalist I was trying to be, I snapped as many pictures as I could of collapsed buildings, smoking heaps of rubbish, literal rivers of trash. I suppose that this is what we think the world needs to know about Haiti--its great needs. But the view from the other side made me think that this other Haiti is one that needs to be shared too. And maybe more importantly, the connection between the two, the fact that it was literally Haiti's abundance that led--through a series of events of human greed and corruption--to its apparent lack.Things are often so much more complicated than we like to think.

Well, the beach was lovely. I slept better that night than I have since we arrived here. I was woken from my amazing slumber at 6 am by Mom, who was so eager to go swimming that she, in contrast to me, could not sleep that night! I complained a lot, but the ocean really was worth it.

On the way back, we stopped to buy some fruit at a roadside stand. I had assumed that buying fruit from a roadside stand would entail getting out of the car and walking the five feet to the piles of fruit, but I was quite mistaken! The car had barely stopped rolling when it was swarmed by over a dozen fruit sellers, each shoving a platter adorned with a pyramid of fruit through a window and repeating her price over and over. A overwhelming cultural experience--I was glad I wasn't the one making the transaction!

Later, when we got back to Leogane, we stopped to visit an old friend of mine who is there with a church group building houses. (Those of you reading from Waco might be interested to know that this group is an outreach organization of Antioch Church.) It was great to meet up with Jay and encouraging to see the work his group is doing in Leogane. They have already erected 40 semi-permanent houses, with a goal of completing 60 more. (For more info or to contribute, see Antioch's website about the project here.)

Even as I was impressed by the good work at the site, I was reminded of the incredible complexity of everything related to rebuilding Haiti. The reality is that any decision anyone makes is really a choice between many ills. The most simplistic way of breaking these decisions down is to say that Haitians and relief workers alike are constantly forced to chose between the immediate need, which is massive, and long-term development, which is forever. Often, it seems that addressing the immediate need is destructive to long-term development, while investing in long-term development appears to ignore the immediate need.

It is apparent that Haiti as a whole is entering a time of transition of focus; while the immediate needs are still great, it is necessary to think about the future. While many aid organizations remain, many others have started to pull out of the country or to shift into more of a maintenance mode. This relief work was invaluable immediately following the quake, but is not sustainable in the long run.

Like I said before, the scope of the need is mind-boggling; the complexity is astounding; and for those in charge, the decisions must be painful.

we're here!

Our trip was uneventful and we made it. We are tired and ready for bed, so that's all I have to say for now... :)

rim to rim...TO RIM!!!

About a week ago, my dad and I collapsed at the bottom of an informational sign about mules on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. We had started on the North Rim at 5 am that morning and completed the 23-mile rim-to-rim hike in just over 8 hrs, just a few minutes under the time we had taken to go from the South to the North two days earlier.

My parents have been doing this hike for a few years now. They meet up with a group from Trinity Mennonite Church in Phoenix, which organizes the hike. Last year, when I was skyping with my parents from Ha Noi, they raved about the hike and I decided that this year was my year--no cross country meets to stay fresh for, and as far as I knew, I would be in the country.

It worked out well because I finished my job in Colorado about a week before the hike, which gave me some time to visit my old stomping grounds around the AZ/NM border. Then my mom, dad, brother, and I were reunited for the first time in over 2 years. Mom and Brock drove our stuff from rim to rim while Dad and I hiked, and on the rest day between we all hung out at the lodge on the beautiful and less-touristy North Rim. It's a great plan--beat up your body (in a great way), do nothing for a day, beat up your body, jump into a car for a 14+ hour drive to Texas.

On the way there and back I also got to celebrate my nephew's birthday with him and eat at two of my favorite restaurants in the world. All-in-all, a great vacation.

You can check out more pictures from the trip in my facebook album here.

beach culture

You might say that a 4-day office outing to the beach is an unheard of luxury for a supposedly diligently-serving volunteer. But allow me to plead my case with the following excerpt from 4-part, months-long editing task I finished up just before we left for the beach last Tuesday:

“He was fond of creating tiny, compact, affectionate products with the warm, soft, tasty, dark coloured surfaces and raw materials jutted through a fantastic space, all together made it noisy, untidy, lively and boisterous.”

--from “Nguyen Bao Toan—Prolonged Aesthetic Heritage”

So, while it might not often be apparent from my blog posts, life in Viet Nam isn't all weekend trips and cheap coffee; I do work sometimes, and the mid-week beach vacation was a nice break. Furthermore, being at the all-Vietnamese beach was an interesting (and often hilarious) study into the contrasting assumptions of American and Vietnamese beach cultures.

While some things are similar, like our excessive seafood consumption,

there were some marked differences. Notably:

The method of selling above-mentioned seafood.

And beachwear. At home I tend to feel like the beach is just an excuse to show off one's body while wearing as little clothing as possible. However, at Cua Lo Beach, swimsuits were more the exception than the rule, for women at least. No string bikinis here! Rather, it was not rare to see women swimming fully clad and girls walking the sands in their pajama suits. Men also do not have special swimwear, as a rule, but their choice of beach apparel is slightly less covering than that of the women: It was slightly disconcerting to run across my male coworkers lounging in the shallows in their tiny, Dandy brand briefs.

However, the most obvious difference between American and Vietnamese beach cultures has to do with preferred vacation schedule. Compare the following two schedules for relaxing days at the beach:

american beach day SLEEP IN eat brunch head to the beach mid-to-late morning lay out in the sun at peak tanning hours with short intervals for reading and swimming play ultimate frisbee or boccee WALK THE BEACH watch the sunset leave in time to catch a late supper.

vietnamese beach day GET UP @ 5 AM swim eat breakfast @ 8 am visit a pagoda eat lunch drink beer NAP return to the beach @4PM sit under an umbrella buy live shrimp eat supper drink beer sing karaoke.

At first I thought, look at those Vietnamese, they're crazy! Why would you want to get up so early to go to the beach? Why would you want to nap all day? Why would you want to avoid the sun and wear so much clothing?

But then I thought, they must be thinking, look at those crazy foreigners! They go out during the hottest part of the day! No wonder they're SO TIRED all the time! And don't they know the sun makes them uglier?

And you must admit, when you think about it logically, they have a point. Being out in the middle of a summer day in a tropical climate does make you tired. And while I appreciate my tan now, I will probably be a very wrinkly old woman someday (and am at a higher risk for skin cancer). That being said, I don't plan to change my beach strategy; I guess I'm set in my ways. But it just goes to show how many of our assumptions about the right way to do things are not necessarily because our way actually makes more sense, but because we are used to our way.

This is my boss, Anh Long, and me eating crabs and shrimp that were jumping out of the bowl 10 minutes prior to this photo being taken.

interval training.

Yesterday I discovered the best interval workout ever.

It is ideally run in 100+ degree heat when the athlete has not run more than 8 miles a week for the past 6 months.

Preparation: Don bathing suit and a liberal coat of sunscreen.

Fuel: Start with a large pancake breakfast at one of the best bakeries in Viet Nam. If the bakery also happens to be a charity for deaf young people, you can feel great about the expensive nature of the breakfast.

Venue: South China Beach--one of the best in the world.

Warm-up: Jog into the water, screaming. Splash around with friends for as long as desired.

Workout: Run as fast as you can/want along the waterline until you can't or don't want to any more. Dive into the crystal clear ocean. Splash around until you catch your breath or want to start running again. (You will find that this rest will be shorter than you anticipate because you won't be able to wait to start running again!) Repeat as many times as desired. Watches and splits forbidden.

Competition: Friends lounging on beach chairs. In other words, you are guaranteed to win.

Cool-down: Float around in the ocean. Sprint across the blistering sand and collapse into your shaded beach chair.

Re-fuel: Coke and sesame rice cakes. Read and nap.

Possible aftereffects: Sunburn and body ache.

Pure joy.

chillin' in sa pa (while ha noi blazed)

Last week, Ha Noi was blazing hot. And the weekend was worse, with highs reaching around 40 degrees and humidity making it feel far hotter...or so I hear. Fortunately, I can't bear witness to the latter, as I was chillin' in Sa Pa, wearing a sweater and jeans (something I thought I wouldn't get to do till I return the the States), though I did don my swimsuit occasionally.

Sa Pa is a village in the mountains near the China border. It is cool, rainy, and lusciously green. It looks exactly like I expected Viet Nam to look.

It is home to amazing street food (including grilled tofu that will change your life!);

lots of ethnic minority vendors who will follow you around incessantly, trying to sell you their traditional cloth (they might even sneak up behind you in a restaurant and put one of their hats onto your head);

rocky waterfalls perfect for climbing up, swimming under, and lounging by (or for having a church service by, complete with communion of rice and water);

cheeeap hotels (though I suppose any hotel is relatively cheap when you shove ten people into two rooms);

and rocky roads to traverse on motorbike (though the wiping out was my least favorite part of the trip).

This weekend, it also happened to contain some of my favorite people in Viet Nam. (I like the ones who aren't in this picture, too...this just happened to be a great one!)

So, you'll understand why I can now call Sa Pa my hands-down favorite place in Viet Nam (see, it even makes me look great in pictures)!

Seven friends and I boarded the over-night train on Thursday night and were joined by 3 more Saturday morning. We arrived back to Ha Noi at 5:30 am Monday morning, with just enough time for Hannah and I to snag a couple hours' sleep on cots on our office floor before our co-workers showed up for work--only in Viet Nam!

P.S. Remember those purple sweet potatoes I told you about? They have those in Sa Pa too (another point, as if it needs one).

SOP english = no grammar

When I finished my last post, I proceeded to pack for my trip to India the next morning! I spent the whole next day (Monday) traveling, although only about 5 hours of it was actually spent in planes. Rather, Ali and I spent around 9 hours chilling in the Bankok airport. This might sound like a terrible prospect, but we actually enjoyed ourselves quite fully and managed to never get bored. The highlights included eating pizza and long-anticipated Dairy Queen blizzards (yum!), and spending hours people watching. We finally did arrive in Bangalore, India, around midnight and to our final destination, the Vishtar Compound.

Ali and I are here as guests/observers of the School of Peace (SOP), an annual inter-faith, inter-ethnic course for young people from Asia and Southeast Asia who are dedicated to working toward peace and justice in their communities and countries. SOP is actually wrapping up after a couple months of training, but is busy preparing for the Festival of Just Peace that will take place this weekend.

I really had no idea what to expect before coming here, but so far my experience in India has been a drastic change from my normal life in Hanoi. This might be best summed up in the words of the SOP participants who, on the first morning informed Ali and me, "Here, we speak SOP English." In answer to my question about what that entailed, they responded, "SOP English no grammar." As the school is conducted in English, applicants are required to speak it, but students' levels definitely vary. However, after a couple months living together, they really have found a way of communicating with each other, and have formed a tight-knit community. And while some of the English here is not much different from that which I read and edit at work in Hanoi, here, unlike there, it is not my responsibility to "fix" it. Rather, I listen and observe.

The first day, when Ali and I started working alongside the SOP students, clearing up the grounds in preparation for the festival, one of them apologized to me, saying, "Sorry you have to work so hard!" But I said, "It's no problem! It is a nice change because usually I would be sitting in front of a computer." And it's so true. I am enjoying the physical labor and being outside. Vishtar is a beautiful, quiet compound--quite refreshing after Hanoi. I have even learned a new skill--weaving mats out of palm leaves. Probably not something I can put on my resume, but fun anyways. The mats are used to make the walls and roofs of the stalls for the booths that various organizations will set up.

Otherwise, we attended a human rights rally at a Bangalore University (unfortunately, the speakers spoke in Hindi, so I could not understand much except that they were very passionate about their issues), have eaten lots of Indian food, have listened to a lot of stories, and have provided a feast for the resident mosquitos. The weather has been delightful. We heard horror stories of the 45 degree Celcius + heat wave that had hit India, but fortunately it is a big place and we are in a different area of the country. It is hot, but quite dry, and it cools down considerably at night. I am learning a lot, and will get to continue doing so for longer than anticipated, because we get to stay in India for a couple extra days to go on the SOP fieldtrip to Mysore on Monday!

xe may convert!

Last week, I got a rare treat: the opportunity to hang out with someone who has known me for more than 7 months! Much to her parents' dismay and my joy, I got to play host to my good friend from college, Ms. Mel Vanden Berg, who braved the hazards of jet-lag, severely lowered bank accounts, and heat-stroke to make her first trip outside the United States a trip to Viet Nam! :).

I realized right away that it was amazing to be with someone who knows me. But I also realized that living in Viet Nam for 7 months just might change a person, too. For instance, I have all these crazy words floating around in my head that make their way into my speech, disguising themselves among my English phrases as though they belong there. But--contrary to popular belief--only a minute percentage of the world's population speaks my variety of Vinglish, and Mel is not one of those people.

However, I knew that, even with my best attempts at speaking proper American English for a week, there were a few Vietnamese words that would slip their way in--they just can't help it anymore. So I figured I'd better teach Mel a few of the most essential words...Like xe may. In my head, a xe may is a xe may is a xe may..."motorbike" just doesn't cut it. What are those little, amazing machines--that any boy will tell you are not, technically speaking, motorcycles (something about the position of the engine...) and that can carry a ever-surprising number of people and cases of beer--that flood the streets of Viet Nam? Xe may. There is just no other correct term. So, I taught Mel the word. Two days later, we rented one for the day, and it didn't take her anything like the whole day to fall in love with this mode of transportation.

I think this was both of our favorite part of our trip to Hue (a city in central Vietnam): riding xe may at our leisure (which might sometimes have been as fast as possible) on this scenic loop between the perfume river and the China Sea:Yep, it was a struggle at times to keep my eyes on the road. But Mel was a very good passenger. She frantically grabbed my waist surprisingly infrequently.

When we got back to Hanoi, we also did a fair amount of driving around on xe may.
Usually in traffic like this:
However, we did managed to detatch ourselves from our xe may and do some other stuff while she was here. While in Hue, we wandered around the "ancient" citadel.


Hue was the royal capital of Vietnam during the time of the fuedal lords and French colonization, and this complex was built during that time, in the mid-1800s. After the revolution, these magnificent old buildings were seen as the vestiges of the "feudal regime" and were allowed to fall into ruin. Only relatively recently have they begun to be restored, and the citadel and its complex of idyllic gardens and temples is now considered a "must-see" in Vietnam.

In Hue, we also treated/subjected ourselves to hour-long beatings at a highly-recommended massage place. Yeah, wikitravel is straight-up wrong sometimes! Fortunately, the experience was theraputic in that we laughed about it all the way home (and it was a long walk!).

When we got back to Hanoi, we went to Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum at night--something I've always wanted to do. It is lit up and really pretty, and there are always people milling around the perfectly manicured squares of grass in front of it (notice i said milling around--no one would ever, ever actually step on Uncle Ho's grass).

We ate supper with my host family at my house (sorry, it's hard to get all five storys in one picture, but you get the idea):

We did some really normal things, too--just Vietnam style. Like drink a lot of gorgeously cheap coffee. Another thing Mel got used to quickly (and learned the Vietnamese word for)--caphe nau da. Vietnamese iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk...

We even had a random Calvin XC reunion:

At the beginning of the trip, I asked Mel to point out things that she noticed and thought were crazy, because it's funny to see how many things I have gotten used to. On the first day she noticed that it's quite common to get one's hair cut by the side of the road, like this:

Then there was a funny moment when we were driving xe may on the highway, and I saw a sign that I couldn't figure out. Eventually, I did, though, and was shocked to realize that Viet Nam actually has speed limits--who would have ever guessed?! Mel reminded me that most people wouldn't have guessed--they would have actually assumed this. Oh. Right.

All-in-all, it was a great time. Totally worth the fact that my throat was hoarse from talking so much... :)

Mel, thanks for flying to the other side of the world to see me and then indulging my xe may obsession!