[L]: So, to continue to keep you posted on our umbrella curse... So far, thankfully, we haven't broken anymore umbrellas. A friend from home wrote us and suggested this wonderful idea -- why don't we wear ponchos? After all, they don't fly away, break, and does not obstruct our views when we ride our bikes. And it seems much safer. So, after much thought... we concur. A poncho is much safer than umbrellas. Thanks for the great suggestion! =)
I have a test tomorrow. And Edwin has to recite a poem in class tomorrow. So, for now, I'll keep this update short. Will write more again soon...
Can you believe Thanksgiving is right around the corner? This will be our second Thanksgiving away from home...
Life in our new 'hood...
November 15, 2007
November 2, 2007
What have I become?
[L]: Today, I caught myself doing it again.
I was riding my bike home and there was a group of people walking in front of my path. They were walking and talking. And walking rather slowly.... And yes, they were blocking my path.
So what did I do? I rang my little bell on my bicycle. Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding.
And they looked and saw that I was coming from behind. They quickly moved out of the way, and I rode past them.
A few minutes later, I realized what I had done. I had, in essence, "honked" at them. But the only problem is, I had no shame or hesitation. What have I become?!
Have I embraced the culture with the honking and the dinging? Or am I just so impatient? Sigh.
Perhaps it's impatience. Although I must admit, part of me likes to believe that I have embraced the culture because everyone else does this. No one seems to mind and have seem to accept it as part of life. Every moving vehicle, thing, object somehow has a bell or horn attached to it. And the horn and bell is used frequently, if not all the time, either to announce it's presence or to tell others to move out of the way.
A few weeks ago, we were in a taxi cab. We ended up going on a tollway/freeway, where vehicles had to go through booths to pay toll. Our cab driver was in a lane that didn't seem to move. (Someone in front had problems at the booth.) Our can driver then stuck his head out the window to scream. After that, he preceeded to honk the horn every 10 seconds. And kept doing it till it moved (ten minutes later). Yikes.
In this society, it seems that waiting is just too bothersome. And if one has to wait, well, let's make the frustrations known.
And makes me question myself... have I too, developed a dislike for waiting in lines? For waiting patiently for my "turn". Or, have I just simply embraced the culture? Makes me question my heart. Or rather, perhaps it reveals more of what's already inside of my heart.
I've come to realized that most everything about life is about waiting. Some best things in life require waiting. I am starting to realize that I need learn to cherish and value "waiting" periods. Because it's part of life, part of who we are made to be. It's also part of growth and character building. It's also what makes the "prize" at the end of a waiting period that much more worthwhile. And finally, it's the waiting that makes us stop for a moment, to pause, reflect, observe, and perhaps learn something new about ourselves and the world.
Have I got a long way to continue learning...
I was riding my bike home and there was a group of people walking in front of my path. They were walking and talking. And walking rather slowly.... And yes, they were blocking my path.
So what did I do? I rang my little bell on my bicycle. Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding.
And they looked and saw that I was coming from behind. They quickly moved out of the way, and I rode past them.
A few minutes later, I realized what I had done. I had, in essence, "honked" at them. But the only problem is, I had no shame or hesitation. What have I become?!
Have I embraced the culture with the honking and the dinging? Or am I just so impatient? Sigh.
Perhaps it's impatience. Although I must admit, part of me likes to believe that I have embraced the culture because everyone else does this. No one seems to mind and have seem to accept it as part of life. Every moving vehicle, thing, object somehow has a bell or horn attached to it. And the horn and bell is used frequently, if not all the time, either to announce it's presence or to tell others to move out of the way.
A few weeks ago, we were in a taxi cab. We ended up going on a tollway/freeway, where vehicles had to go through booths to pay toll. Our cab driver was in a lane that didn't seem to move. (Someone in front had problems at the booth.) Our can driver then stuck his head out the window to scream. After that, he preceeded to honk the horn every 10 seconds. And kept doing it till it moved (ten minutes later). Yikes.
In this society, it seems that waiting is just too bothersome. And if one has to wait, well, let's make the frustrations known.
And makes me question myself... have I too, developed a dislike for waiting in lines? For waiting patiently for my "turn". Or, have I just simply embraced the culture? Makes me question my heart. Or rather, perhaps it reveals more of what's already inside of my heart.
I've come to realized that most everything about life is about waiting. Some best things in life require waiting. I am starting to realize that I need learn to cherish and value "waiting" periods. Because it's part of life, part of who we are made to be. It's also part of growth and character building. It's also what makes the "prize" at the end of a waiting period that much more worthwhile. And finally, it's the waiting that makes us stop for a moment, to pause, reflect, observe, and perhaps learn something new about ourselves and the world.
Have I got a long way to continue learning...
Halloween on this side of the world
[L]: Funny how Edwin and I never really experience certain aspects of "American culture" till we came all the way over here to this side of the world.
Last April was my first ever experience with dyeing Easter Eggs. And it was because I was trying to tell my local friends here about Easter in America. They asked me, what do you traditionally do? As a result, I hosted some Easter parties. And we ended up dyeing eggs. My first.
This past Halloween, is also our very first pumpkin-carving experience ever! It's ironic how some of these tradition didn't happen for us while we were back home. It took coming here to a foreign land for us to finally learn how. It is fun indeed. (Our fellow American friends bought pumpkins and we had a pumpkin carving contest. Edwin and I happen to be in 2 separate teams.)
Here are our proud accomplishments.
Here's Edwin's pumpkin:
Here's mine. A friend and I followed a printed pattern, and it looked like a mess when we were done, so we thought we had messed up. But when we lit the candle in the pumpkin, the face came to life, and it was rather freaky by how real it looks with the shadowy-effects. This face looks menacing...
Hooray for our first pumkin-carving experience. =)
Last April was my first ever experience with dyeing Easter Eggs. And it was because I was trying to tell my local friends here about Easter in America. They asked me, what do you traditionally do? As a result, I hosted some Easter parties. And we ended up dyeing eggs. My first.
This past Halloween, is also our very first pumpkin-carving experience ever! It's ironic how some of these tradition didn't happen for us while we were back home. It took coming here to a foreign land for us to finally learn how. It is fun indeed. (Our fellow American friends bought pumpkins and we had a pumpkin carving contest. Edwin and I happen to be in 2 separate teams.)
Here are our proud accomplishments.
Here's Edwin's pumpkin:
Here's mine. A friend and I followed a printed pattern, and it looked like a mess when we were done, so we thought we had messed up. But when we lit the candle in the pumpkin, the face came to life, and it was rather freaky by how real it looks with the shadowy-effects. This face looks menacing...
Hooray for our first pumkin-carving experience. =)
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