The Broad Abroad

A rare break, talking to my Uncle Hans.

By interesting, I don’t mean good.  It’s been a mix, really.  The biggest thing to happen was the death of my uncle.  I’ve been avoiding making a blog post about it because I’m afraid that anything I say will be trite.  It seems even worse to say nothing at all, especially since it’s been on my mind so much.  He was the uncle responsible for making my rocking horse when I was little, and also for taking more photos of my wedding than the paid photographer!  He was full of love for his 4 kids, his uncountable nieces and nephews, and his grandkids, as well as the adults.  He helped my grandma just as much as her sons did.  Everyone was full of love for him, and he will be missed in a huge, huge way.

And here’s the hardest part about this post.  What do I say next?  Nothing I guess.  Everything else can wait.

I have eleven days before I actually become The Broad Abroad, and tonight my husband and I are hosting a going-away party for all of our Madison friends.  Yesterday was my last day of work, and it was nice that it coincided with our Family Fun night.  I got permission from a few of the parents to take pictures with their children to show to my students in China, but I won’t be posting those online.  Suffice it to say that last night was a lot of fun, and I have pretty high expectations for tonight!  The white elephant gifts are always a hoot.

My lovely husband is making Chinese dumplings, of course, and is getting some rice paper to make egg rolls for me. I love it when my dumpling makes dumplings.

I am making a Greek dish called Revithia that I learned from a professor whose name ended in -opolous.  The recipe went something like this:

Him: “You start with a lot of onions.”

Me: “How many onions?”

Him: “I don’t know…five?”

The amazing stuff he served us didn’t really seem to have onions in it at all.  It was the most amazing grey slop I’ve ever tasted in my life.  It’s apparently traditionally baked in a pot that has been sealed with bread dough and stays in the oven for half a day.  To me, this screams “CROCK POT!”  And so this morning I began chopping 3 gigantic onions.  They filled my (very large) crock pot halfway, but I ended up having space for everything else I needed – chickpeas, some herbs, tomatoes.  Massaging the chickpeas to remove as many skins as possible makes the chickpeas practically melt after  few hours.  Failing this, use an immersion blender

It’s such a simple recipe, but you have to have the resolve to just leave it alone.  This makes it the perfect thing to prepare while you pack everything you own and stick it in storage.

You can find my recipe for it here on Tasty Kitchen.  Since we ate it all before I got a chance to take a picture last time, I’ll be snapping a few tonight to add to the recipe.

I recently posted on a popular forum for ESL/EFL teachers asking about things they wish they had or hadn’t brought with them.  I also offered to bring some things with me for them.

Some folks posted helpful advice -

We lost the salsa today. *sigh*

Mostly, I’ve been incredibly lucky at the airport.  Pre-9/11,the only thing I lost was a multi-fuel camping stove that reeked of gasoline even though it was empty.  I can completely understand not allowing that on the plane, though I was annoyed at the time.

Post-9/11, it’s been a little worse, of course. This deserves a list.

1. I had hair scissors confiscated in Japan during a ridiculous security check during a transfer.  The TSA allows scissors with a 4″ blade, and Japan allows 4cm measured from the pivot.  As measured by a Hello Kitty ruler, mine were 4.5cm.  Why did I pack them in my carry-on?  I wanted to trim my split ends during the flight.
2. A pocketknife was taken in Madison while I was on my way to the inauguration, I think.  It was a $10 special from Meijer at least 10 years prior, and I had forgotten it was in the suitcase.
3. The lighter in Philly was perhaps the most ridiculous.  It had made it through security in Detroit, and I didn’t even know it was in my pocket.  The security guy was playing a “gotcha” game that entertained him greatly.  “Are you sure? Then what’s this?!”
4. I generally avoid having water bottles confiscated by dumping them out in a plant.  The Rome airport had no plants, but I was carrying a Nalgene at the height of the BPA scare so I let it go.
5. And the salsa.  Ohhhh, the salsa.  We picked it up at the fair-trade bazaar I wrote about a few weeks ago, and it was a gift.  It was the one liquid we forgot to transfer to the checked bag.  I wonder if they would have confiscated the ingredients individually, or if it was the chopping and jarring that rendered it “liquid”.  It’s probably good that we went through security separately, because I would have thrown a mini fit.

Despite all of this, I still love flying.  My dad was a pilot, and he got me addicted to the weightless feeling of liftoff.  I enjoy it privately now because yes, I have already told you how much I love the feeling of the wheels leaving the ground.

What have you lost?  Have you sworn off airports forever?  What’s your favorite part of flying?

Yesterday I wrote about buying from small businesses, but failed to mention the 3/50 Project.   I became aware of this idea a few months ago through the website of an independent baby store in my town.  The idea is simple:  Pick 3 local retail businesses that, should they disappear, would make you very sad.  Commit in your head (there’s nothing official here, it’s just awareness) to spend $50 per month spread between these 3 or any others that you appreciate.

My 3 are:

Happy Bambino, because the alternative would be getting on a bus and going to Babies R Us for baby gifts, which is full of useless plastic crap.

Revolution Cycles, because it is owned by some guys who simply love bikes and don’t push anything on you…unlike some other bike shops that are more convenient.

Lakeside Fibers, because they’re nicer and more awesome than the other local yarn shop (and closer), and leaps and bounds more fulfilling than going to Jo-Ann’s.  They have coffee.

What are your 3?

The Hubs and I went to a Fair Trade bazaar today (conveniently located right next to the indoor location for the local farmer’s market) and managed to find a few gifts for friends and family.  Christmas shopping is always a delicate thing for me, since I’m on a constant quest to de-clutter.  I tend to take my feelings about a beautiful-yet-useless trinket and assume that others would feel similarly. (This is where pictures would come in handy for today’s post, but I didn’t think to bring the camera.)  I even though about not going to the sale because even though fair trade is important to me, it often tends to be trinkets.  So how do you support the little guys and gals, both domestic and abroad, without filling your(or your giftee’s) house with gorgeous, pointless objects?

Consumables

Bath products and foods were abundant at this fair, and often you can find raw goods like shea butter to make your own, if you’re crafty like that.  Coffee was everywhere, and chocolate made a fair showing as well.  My favorite though was the oil.  We saw olive oil (and associated products) from Palestine, and it made me wish we were shopping for ourselves.  For local food, we found a number of gift-worthy things produced locally at the farmer’s market in the next room.  Honey, salsa, pickles, spicy awesomeness in a jar, and meat sticks (if you’re into that sort of thing) from any animal you could think of to kill.  Food gifts can be a good way to make sure that your gift is used, as long as people don’t save it “for a special occasion” for years.  Except the meat sticks.  Those things might be good to save for the apocalypse.

The ultimate food gift might just be a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) membership.  As this post about Soul Food Farm makes clear, people can get very attached to their food and the people who create it.  I’ve gotten attached to just the idea that I KNOW who grows my food.  I can’t say I’ve bonded with that specific farm, but I’ll stick with CSAs in general just to have the chance to support a farm directly.

Wearables

Wool sweaters priced at $10 each made me wonder about the fair-tradeyness (and research has been done on the phenomenon of how people feel about cheap fair trade items), but there were scarves and hats galore from all over the world as well as, again, raw materials in the form of yarn.  The mohair was tempting, but I have to remember that I’ll have access to yak when I get to Shangri-la.

Computers

What?  Yeah, these weren’t at the fair trade bazaar.  But if you’re reading this you have one, and guess what?  It’s possible to support small business when you get a new one.  My next computer, hopefully purchased next week, will be this little lady from Zareason.  I’m just waiting for the pink case to be back in stock.  It was an easy decision for me.  I wanted Linux on a netbook, and I wanted support from humans.  I’ve already had very pleasant interactions with two actual humans who 1. might be reading this, but don’t that keep you from believing me, and 2. I intend to stay in touch with.   I was lucky to happen upon a link in the Ubuntu forums a month or so ago.

Services/Experiences

Ah, the clutter-free gift.  A massage, a ride in a hot-air balloon, a free appointment with a cleaning lady — all gifts that support a local business and don’t gather any dust.  They create feelings and memories.  This is something I will keep in mind when I’m in China.  In Shangri-la, many big companies have come in from the larger cities to get their “share” of the new tourism cash flow.  Buses take the place of a donkey rental, restaurants take the place of food stalls, and the locals who have lived their whole life there are left out of the game.  If I hire a guide, I will hire a local guide, and I will eat local food to the extent my unfortunate dietary restrictions allow.

Reaching Local and Fair Trade Perfection

Um, yeah, not there yet.  And a story on NPR yesterday reminded me what a horrible person I am for wanting a Kindle to take with me to China.  Local booksellers are all but gone, and even Borders is tanking as more people buy books on Amazon.  But I read voraciously when I travel, and I’ve been in Asian bookstores before.  One in Koronadal (South Cotabato, Mindanao, Philippines) had ONE book in English, which happened to be a novel I hadn’t yet read.  I finished it in two days.

I try, I really do.  And I want you to try too.  But it will be an interesting and hilarious phenomenon when suddenly “Made in China” becomes a local product.

I don’t know what it is about statues and signs.  It’s usually not enough for me to simply read or admire them — I have to find a way to have fun with them.

Sometimes it’s easy:

Poor translation or a lack of research often leads to a good chuckle, and this goes both ways.

But a statue or pictoral sign requires some effort and a bit of exhibition on my part.  Either the locals are already staring at me (in which case, why not entertain them?) or they aren’t paying a lick of attention.  I may be perpetrating a few stereotypes about Americans, but I do my best to avoid being rude or offensive.  If I make a few people think that Americans enjoy a bit of silliness, then so be it.

1. Receive new passport in the mail. 11/30/09
2. Finish TESL Certification.
3. Finish and send wedding thank-yous.
4. Attempt to secure a job in Kunming.
5. Get a new computer. 12/29/09
6. Get a Kindle. 12/28/09 (Thanks, Darling!)
7. Save some money to help pay off my student loans (these are starting to conflict).
8. Finish crocheting:
   a.  a blanket
   b.  another blanket
   c.  a coat
   d.  a sweater
9. Pack.
10. Donate at least one more box of stuff.

It’s a play on words – get it?  The abroad is broad.  I’m going abroad.  I’m a… nevermind.

Most of all, it’s a complete departure from all the names I’ve ever used online.  I’ve used Kermit, Rager, vegan_chick, jlygrnmigt, buglady, and a few others.  Some of these are still floating around, and some uses of these names are not me.

Back in the early 90′s, I started out on a couple of BBS’s using the name Kermit.  I was 13 or 14 and thought flame wars were cool, so I participated.  Then I got scared that I had angered the cool people I was trying to befriend, and changed my name to Rager.  It declared my teenage angst and my status as a fan of Rage Against the Machine.  I still wasn’t a cool kid, but the name stuck for a long time.  I even got it engraved on my high school class ring above a little picture of a computer.

Even back then, short names were hard to get as email addresses because they were the first to be grabbed.  Free email providers had informed me that Rager was unavailable.  I was vegan at the time, and became veganchick.

Enter AOL Instant Messenger.  As uncool as AOL was and remains (no really, it’s still around for some reason), AIM was rather essential.  Oh, I also had ICQ, Yahoo Messenger, and stayed logged into a talker at all times, but AIM was the standard at the time.  I crossed my fingers and hoped, but Rager and all imaginable spellings of vegan_chick were unavailable.  A new name was needed, and at the time, AIM had a limit of ten characters.  I came up with Jolly Green Midget, and shortened it to JlyGrnMigt.  This stuck for even longer than Rager, except that nobody had any idea what it said.  I’ve been explaining it to people for a decade.

Buglady was given to me by a kid after I introduced him to the joy of hissing cockroaches and giant millipedes, and stuck through grad school.  It was even on my license plate!

Now, however, I no longer identify closely with a frog, nor am I filled with teen angst.  I’m not vegan, I’m sick of re-spelling vowel-less words, and there are a few other bugladies out there.  As it turns out, this new name isn’t terribly original either.  But I like it, and it’s mine.  You can call me The Broad.