Socialized Medicine

It was bound to happen...

I just got home from my first hospital visit.

Now (Mom) before you panic, let me explain.  I would surmise my case to be much less than acute - but I did need to get my foot looked at by a doctor.  For the last two-ish weeks, I've had a dull pain in my left foot in my Metatarsal area (those bones that eventually extend into the toe region).  After activity it hurts like a mother, then goes away.  After sitting with my feet up and getting up to walk, it hurts again in short bursts.  Nothing terrible, just an annoyance.  And when you walk several miles every single day to do the simplest of tasks, not to mention the fact that I've taken up running lately, well, you can see the trouble.

So, I texted one of our youth group parents who is my go-to medical consultant to ask what I should do.  (She's a doctor here in HK).  She recommended that I go to the ER.  At first, I was like, whaaa? The ER? I'm certainly not dire enough for the ER.  But she encouraged me to go anyway and that it would be much cheaper than going private.  And I'm all about cheap.

So up to Queen Mary Hospital I went.

Not my photo, but here it is...

This hospital is known for being one of the nicer public hospitals in Hong Kong and as luck would have it, it is the closest hospital to where I'm currently housesitting.  (And is serviced by about 12,978 buses, so it's incredibly easy to get to).  Now that I think of it, I have no idea where the closest hospital is to my apartment in Wanchai. Perhaps I should check that out...

In any case, I walked into the waiting area of the ER and things seemed pretty standard.  There was a large waiting room of chairs and a registration counter.  I waited behind an Indian couple with a very, very sick Sikh grandpa who was vomiting profusely into a plastic bag in front of me.  Needless to say, his triage number was much higher than my own.  But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

I registered with the window after briefly explaining to the admit nurse in as many ways as possible that no, I hadn't just  injured my ankle that, yes, I know I am walking on it, but I think I need an X-Ray, and that I thought it was a Stress Fracture at worst, but that I just wanted to have it X-Rayed to be sure.  Maybe they just aren't used to people taking their care into their own hands?  If I had to guess this would be an example of how many Chinese people defer to the authority, and the Doctor is certainly the authority.  All I knew is that I needed an X-Ray.

The offending left foot and the waiting area

After surrendering my Hong Kong ID, and forking over 100 Hong Kong dollars, I was told to go have a seat and that my number would be called. I wasn't sure what the procedure was from this point on.  Fortunately, I expected some wait, and brought along Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers, an amazing and very engrossing ER-read.  I highly recommend it even if you aren't amongst the bloodied and phlegmatic.  I briefly looked around the room to assess the situation and observed several old people with face masks, a son with a bandage taped to his head with his mother, about 6 people in wheelchairs that were so inanimate that I wasn't sure for quite some time if they were, in fact, still alive (they were), and four Mainland Chinese businessmen, one with a bloody bandage on his cheek.  In between Outliers,  I tried to think of all the things that could have caused the bloodied Chinese man, but could only come up with flying cutlery at a business lunch gone wrong or else a fight over the latest Prada bag.

I waited and waited, knowing that surely my very minor possible stress fracture was lower in priority than almost everyone else in the room.

Finally, my name was called, last name first, of course, and I was instructed to visit the triage nurse.  I did so, and after again explaining the nature of my "injury" she gave me a triage number.  I learned several things about HK healthcare this evening.  There are 5 numbers in triage. 1 is the highest, or worst.  This pretty much means you're dead or dying from what I could tell, and 5 is basically the triage nurse's way of suggesting passive-aggressively that you might consider going home because it might be at least several weeks before a doctor could see you, that's how insignificant your case is.

I was rated a 4, or in HK Healthcare speak, Semi-Urgent.

Semi-Urgent.  This seems like an oxymoron, but I didn't want to moralize on grammar right there in the ER...

 Clutching my paper and having already waited for about an hour and 15 minutes, I headed back to my seat.  It was at this point that a loud voice began to announce "Resuscitation In Progress...wait times might be higher." Ad nauseum.  I guess if you're the resuscitee, this might not be so strange, since you're focused on, to put it bluntly, not dying, but sitting in the waiting area knowing someone was in the next room getting resuscitated was pretty strange.  Also, this is the only ER I've ever been to where the public and ambulance entrance are in the same area. As I sat there, we could see people being brought in via ambulance.  Very interesting, indeed. 

They also nicely (or weirdly?) put up a sign under the updated waiting times.  Yep, folks, that's a whopping 195 minutes for Semi Urgent cases and 150 minutes for Urgent Cases.  Fortunately, when I walked in, the wait time for Semi-Urgent cases was only 135 minutes.  But by the time I came back from the triage nurse a whole lot more people had shown up.

About 15 minutes later, I was called back to meet with a doctor in an again, very standard ER examining cubicle.  I went through the rigamarole again of the "injury" and she agreed that we should X-Ray it.  She pointed me down a long hallway and I turned in a paper she gave me to the X-Ray people, got my foot X-Rayed and was ushered back into the waiting room. 

I can see how going from the American system to a more "socialized" system can be really jarring for Americans.  We are really used to a warm and fuzzy type of health care where the doctor "really cares about you as a patient" and wants to make you feel like your needs are being met.  But in the ER here, my true and one goal was to make sure my foot wasn't broken and if it was to get on treating it as soon as possible.  I didn't need a doctor to whisper sweet assurances in my ear - and so I was completely satisfied with my level of care. 

The entire cost of my visit? $12.82 in USD.

After I was X-Rayed I waited about another 30 minutes until my name was called again.  I visited with the doctor, she read the X-Ray and said my foot wasn't broken, told me to ice it and take it easy.  2.5 hours after arriving, I was on my merry way.

And let me mention to you that the cost for this entire ER visit?  US $12.82 or $100 HKD.  That's it.  Including the X-Rays and consult, well, and 2.5 hours of my life. 

Suffice it to say, this experience did not change my views on Socialized Medicine and its virtues.  I'm not extremely interested in getting into a debate about how this could/will/won't work in the US, because it's a completely different context.  But what I can say is that I am very grateful to have this medical system that is good, affordable, and accessible. 

And also thankful that my foot isn't broken, because let's be honest, I can't think of anything more miserable than being on crutches.  In Hong Kong.  In the Summer.

Well, that's all folks!

Til Next Time,

-The Adventurer

Saw this sign the other day and though it is neither Chinese nor grammatically incorrect, it cracked me up.

Siargao, Philippines

I always have these grand, master plans that I'll do a seven part installment on my vacations and things that I find interesting, but they never seem to pan out. So for better or worse, I'm going to cram all of my Philippines vacation into this one post.

About a month and a half ago, I went with 9 friends to Siargao Island, Philippines.  This is one of the rare vacations where I was not the trip planner, so it was a double blessing for me.  I almost literally showed up at the airport having no idea where we were really staying or what we were really doing.  It's a good thing I trust my friends!

One of the greatest parts of this vacation was getting to see some friends that I don't get to see too often, making new ones, and really enjoying hanging out with a lot of great people.

Okay. So the trip.  If you're looking for an awesome, adventure-packed trip, I would highly suggest our itinerary.  Every day was packed full of possibilities and we totally utilized them! We flew from Hong Kong to Cebu on a miserable 1am flight (the only flight available).  Then, we had a long connection in Cebu from about 4am to 10am. Fortunately, my traveling companions booked a room at the adjacent hotel and we all got a few hours of sleep (and those hours of sleep even on the floor were SO NECESSARY).  After that, we headed to Siargao on a short one hour flight.  Things were pretty uneventful, though one of the stranger parts was sitting in a seat that faced backwards.  Takeoff and landing were definitely a strange experience. 

Awkward Backward Facing Seats.  Definitely not an experience I think I need again...

We arrived on the island and I was personally really blown away.  It is completely off the beaten path - and not very developed at all, which I love.  There is hardly any commercialization on the island and it showed.  The airport was a one terminal building.  We were picked up from the airport by the manager at our bungalows and off we went!

Jeepney to the Bungalows

The next few days were a blur of awesome activities and total relaxation.  It really was the perfect combo in that respect.  Additionally, it was awesome to have everything we needed at the bungalow.  The girls in the kitchen were so awesome and made fantastic and tasty breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day (even before we went fishing at 6am!)

The first full day we were there, I decided to try to learn how to surf.  For a really, really reasonable price, I could have a 2 hour surfing lesson and rent a board, so I thought, why not?!  The surfing part wasn't so bad, but the paddling killed me.  I at one point felt like I was going to die in the arm region.  It was a good wake up call about how pathetically out of shape I am.  After wiping out over and over, discovering that I was in fact a goofy surfer after about 30 minutes (right leg in front) and ingesting about 3 gallons of seawater, I decided to head back to dry land.  Frustrated and sore, I vowed to do better the next time.  (I'm not a perfectionist or anything...)

I did eventually get hang of the surfing, and let me tell you, the moment I stood up on the board was one of the most amazing moments.  (No hyperbole)  Surfing definitely did not come easily for me and it was awesome to finally stand up and be able to ride a wave! I caught about 10 more waves that day before giving it a rest (and nursing my at the time unrealized sunburn of the century on my legs...)

We're on a boat.  I spent almost as much time in this boat as I did on dry land.  And I loved it!

One morning, bright and early (6:00am) we all got up and went on a fishing trip.  I secretly love to fish and had never been deep sea fishing before, so again, since everything was so cheap and accessible, I thought why the heck not?!  We piled into the boat, pointed out to sea and trolled around FOREVER with nothing happening.  At one point, with the sun beating down on us, the fumes from the tiny lawnmower sized engine on the boat and the seas rolling a bit, I started to feel REALLY seasick.  I was doing moderately okay until we stopped because we hooked a fish.  At that point, my body's last remaining equilibrium gave out and I got extremely sick.  While my friend was reeling in the fish on one side of the boat, I threw up off the other side.  My witty friend thanked me for chumming the water.  It didn't make me feel better, though now I can appreciate his humor. I spent the rest of the morning laying down in the only area wide and long enough to lie down on the boat and slept it off while alternatively throwing up over the side.  Not the most comfortable or attractive of moments for me, but hey, that's life. 

Very, Very seasick.

I learned my lesson quickly, though, and ate something the moment we got back on land and immediately took Dramamine for the afternoon of trolling.  I am happy to say that I didn't do any more throwing up after that.  In happy news, my friends hooked two ginormous fish, a Wahu and a Mahi Mahi, both of which we Sashimi-ed and grilled for dinner that night.  Definitely some of the freshest and most delicious fish I've ever had!

Lawrence caught a huge Wahu!

Fresh Mahi Mahi.  I think it looks like an Alien, but it tastes AMAZING.

For the rest of the week, we went on a motorbike drive around the island one morning, headed out on a boat to a surfing break about an hour away from our bungalows and hung out.  One of my favorite days was when we went to the rock pools about an hour and a half from the bungalows.  They're only good at low tide when the ocean recedes and leaves a 10-20 foot deep rock pool full of fish that you can explore.  There is also a huge rock that you can jump or dive off of.  I love jumping from high places, so this was heaven for me. 

Other events of note: One of the guys on the trip, Kyle, played his guitar at an open mic night at one of the local bars and it was great to get to see some of the locals and other people on holiday there.  We also played lots of frisbee, got to meet some of the local kids and played games with them and just did a lot of hanging out and eating.

Making sand castles with local kids

This trip was everything I didn't know I needed - there were many moments where I looked out over the ocean at the rising moon, or the crazy smattering of stars and realized how little time I take to be in nature in Hong Kong.  It is amazing how much this has affected my spiritual life, too.   I really am an outdoorsy person, and I think I let my aversion to hot weather overpower my desire to be outside a lot of the time.  Shortly after I got back, my boss was paraphrasing a talk he heard at the Passion Conference - the speaker was saying that she felt God's presence more by watching a surfing competition out at Mavericks in California than she did in 10 quiet times.  And I totally resonated with that.  This week filled me up more than so many of my artificially induced "quiet times" in HK.  I was actually just out in God's creation, totally in awed, and totally filled with His presence.  It was pretty awesome.

It was a fantastic week and I would highly recommend it if you are looking for a great holiday to just escape for a little while.  Go while you can, though, because I doubt this island will be a secret for long! One of the problems with an upwardly mobile traveling Asian population armed and ready with passports and money to spend...

Until next time,

The Adventurer

Chingish o' the day (Tagalog-ish?)

9 Month Curse

If you're wanting to read a post about how I love my life and how everything is perfect in paradise, you might want to skip this one.  Most of the time I am happy, loving life, and completely awed at the amazing life I get to live.  But I'm going to take one minute and immortalize this moment in my life - the one where I got hacked off and wondered why I moved to Hong Kong in the first place.

After this, we all will go back to normal, thank heavens, and I will be back loving life again.  If you're still with me, read on.  And if you're considering moving abroad,  you might want to take note of this post. You might not remember it now, but you will later...

Okay, let's get started!  I have, for the last couple of weeks, been in a horrendous funk.

Let me preface by saying that I before I moved to Hong Kong I probably heard enough advice to fill a smallish Harry Potter book.  Or at least a mass-market paperback.  Most of this advice I promptly forgot.  Not because I wanted to, per se, but because with moving and trying to figure out how to leave my old life and start a new one, I had no bandwidth whatsoever to commit these things to memory.  I could barely handle basic tasks what with my simultaneous crying and feelings of euphoria.

But, some of this advice has been sneakily making its way to my consciousness lately.  Like today, for example.  I remember vividly chatting with my at the time future boss and his wife in the Galleria in Houston last August.  They said many wise things which I know I forgot, but one of the things that spontaneously regurgitated itself today was this:  Everything will be wonderful for the first 8 months.  And at month 9, you will begin to wonder what in the world you were thinking.

That pretty much sums it up.

I've been in a funk lately - I am frustrated at every turn with the smallest things, like people standing on the wrong side of the escalator, people taking too long with their Octopus card, people walking too slowly on the streets and people running too fast out of the MTR.  I am frustrated with all of the grumpy people and with the people with those silly grins on their faces and those creepy tourists from unnamed countries who look at me like I'm a tasty Ribeye.  I am frustrated by all of the typos and grammatical errors on posters, I am frustrated that people don't know how to use an ATM and that I always end up behind this person while 17 other HSBC customers sail through the ATM next to me.  I am frustrated at just about everything.  I am in the expat funk.  In the midst of the dreaded 9 month curse.  

Okay, okay, now before we get too fatalistic here, let me say that I'm moving through this bump in the road.  And regrettably, there were several factors that pushed me not over but near the edge recently.

Consider, for example, these recent contributing factors:

I went on a fabulous trip to the Philippines (I can feel your sympathy dissipating by the second) where I had no responsibility for a week beyond eating and sleeping and hanging out with some of the best people I know.  So, coming back home to Hong Kong where one must constantly be on their guard to do something as simple as getting from your front door to the MTR entrance was quite a shock to the system.

Additionally, the temperature somehow skyrocketed from the day I left to the day I returned by about 7,000 degrees Celsius.  The day before I left, I was wearing a jacket and the day I returned, I almost suffered spontaneous combustion on the Jetway.

I've not made it a secret that I dislike loathe hot weather, and so far Hong Kong hasn't done too poorly.  But coming back from my breeze-abundant tropical paradise where all I had to do was sip cold beverages all day to the bustling, hot, humid, windless, smoggy reality that is my life here was no good.

Additionally, and I think this is Universal for expat HK-dwellers from time to time, I have become fed. up. with the culture here.  At first it all seems so new and exotic.  Why, look, there's Chinese all over! Look at all of the strange and wonderful foods! That smell is simply irresistible! I once said.  (Okay, lying about the last one.  I am sure HK is not known for its pleasant smell, though through the myriad of wet markets and smog there is the occasional tea shop or waffle stand wafting smelly goodness).

But now it's a whole new ball game. In the MTR, people with fishy smelling body odor want to stand thisclose to you, though there is plenty of room to spare.  Or, when you get off the MTR, people rush past you like the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona while maddeningly walking at a GLACIAL pace once hitting the pavement above ground.  These small things are just that - small, but if you don't have a good attitude about them (I'll confess, my attitude has been POOR lately) then there are plenty of infractions to get you riled up. 

So that's that.  I almost feel better already, like I've just done a strange catharsis. 

Because here's the truth.  I do love Hong Kong.  My friends and I all had a whinging session a couple of weeks ago (that's British slang for complaining, by the way) where we all lamented our vacation and the fact that we were no longer on it.  We complained about many of the things I've just listed out for you. And after I left, I felt bad.  Almost like I had gossiped about my friend.  Yes, she might be annoying and a little smelly at times, but I chose her.  I chose Hong Kong.  I could have stayed in Houston forever, happily living my life.  But I didn't.  God called me to leave, and I followed willingly, no dragging required.

So, here's the happy news.  Perspective means a lot and I've gotten some over the past few days.  I went to my grocery store tonight and bought 5 fruits I had never heard of before moving here.  I took a Chinese lesson last week with my teacher where we laughed and laughed at all the strange new vocabulary I've picked up.  I rode a bus, the MTR and a tram today and didn't have to think once about how I was getting from A to B.  Every single person I know here I didn't know a year ago, and we've become closer than people I've known for years.  

And Hong Kong is my place.  Not because I'm here involuntarily, but because I chose it.  And I do love my life here 98% of the time, which is pretty darn impressive.

So, to you, new expat, don't be surprised when out of the clear blue sky (or grey smoky sky if you find yourself in Hong Kong) you start questioning your sanity and ability to make good life decisions.  We've all been there and we'll all get through it.  Or at least that's what they tell me... 

:o)

Til next time,

The Adventurer

India 1

Let me just start this blog post by saying that I have no idea how many installments it will take to cover my India trip.  Simply that much happened.  I am finally in a place where I have processed what happened and I think I can recap it in a couple of posts, but we’ll see where this takes me! 

This trip was by far one of the most amazing mission trips, not to mention trips of any kind, that I have ever been on.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  This trip was a work trip, one of those that makes me stop and think to myself, “I get paid to do this?!?”  Indeed, yes, somehow miraculously, I do get paid to do this kind of thing.   

This whole trip started as an effort between my co-Director, Julie, and I to figure out where we wanted to take kids on our Easter Break Mission Trip (or more importantly, where God wanted us to go).  We had some destinations in mind ranging from the Philippines to Mongolia and Nepal, but everything worked out perfectly for India to happen.  
 

We have a couple in our church that work at a local ministry that serves the South Asian community in Hong Kong (primarily Nepalese immigrants).  This couple is extremely knowledgeable about the region as they are both from Northern India, so we set up a meeting to talk about the possibility of taking a group to Nepal.  During the meeting it became clear to all of us that Nepal would be a great adventure, but what might be really incredible would be to go serve at the Children’s Home that Tryfina (the wife of the couple)’s parents established more than 30 years ago in India.

And so it began.  We took this idea to our boss, and I honestly expected him to laugh when I told him we wanted to take kids to India.  But he didn’t.  He asked us about logistics and safety and asked us if this is where we felt God was calling us to go, and we were able to provide satisfactory answers to enough of his questions that he agreed.  We publicized the trip to our students and parents.  

On the day that sign ups were due, I had a minor panic attack when I got in the office and we had received only one signup.  Julie, my co-Director and I, decided that in order for the trip to be feasible we needed at least 5 students.  So 5 was our goal.  I sweated it out as the hours ticked on but as we got more and more responses, it became clear that we were going to meet the minimum.  

The preparations were different than lots of mission trips I’ve been involved in as we weren’t working with any type of mission trip organization, per se.  We coordinated the flights, the ground transportation, the projects, everything was basically worked out between us and the children’s home.  So, I became the travel agent as Julie started working on the content during the trip and things began to come together.  We booked flights, fundraised, applied for visas, prayed a lot, had team meetings, got supplies together, were commissioned as a team, prayed some more, and finally we were off. 

And in that moment it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I didn’t really realize in the beginning how crazy it would be to coordinate travel for 12 people AND to work out the details to make the trip safe and well communicated to parents.  But somehow we pulled it off.  The moment the wheels left the tarmac, I just had this feeling that all of the work we put into the preparations were going to be totally worth it.

So Many Supplies.

And they were.

India is a very diverse country – in fact, probably one of the most diverse countries on Earth.  There are so many dialects spoken in India I couldn’t even begin to name them, the terrain varies from beaches to deserts to the highest reaches of the Himalayas, and the people, culture and lifestyle can vary significantly from region to region.  Our trip took us to West Bengal, a long and skinny state in the Eastern part of India that encompasses all of the climates I named above.  It is, in and of itself, extremely diverse.  After connecting for just under 12 hours in New Delhi, we took off for our final (airport) destination at Siliguri.  Siliguri is a small town in Northern West Bengal and is the closest airport to the Children’s Home at about 3 hours drive away by Jeep. 

As we landed and breathed in the scorchingly dry air, I felt almost like I was home again in New Mexico.  I immediately wondered what I had been thinking when I packed long skirts and long sleeved shirts! The airport is really basic – something like a small local airport in the US is.  Crowded when flights are in, but only servicing a few flights a day.   After collecting our luggage, we headed to the Jeeps that would take us up the mountain.  They were older models, but sturdy with luggage racks on the roof.  Our drivers deftly scaled the Jeep and began tying down the luggage to the top of the Jeep.  Just a few moments later, we were off, radio blaring Indian music and bumping down a half-paved road.  

Indian Traffic is CRAY CRAY

As we turned on the main road that would lead us out of Siliguri, it was like a complete sensory overload.  Cars everywhere were honking, the smell of exhaust wafted in through the windows, and larger cars roared around smaller cars and bikes without any regard for oncoming traffic.  There were stalls all along the side of the road selling everything from electronics to hand carved headboards.  We even passed several cows right in the middle of the road, seemingly oblivious to the racket going on around them, safely protected by Hindu custom. 

Very Large River

Women walked down the road in ornate saris, kids rode bikes two and three per bike and I looked out the windows wide-eyed.  There are very few things anymore that truly astound me, but this was one.  As our driver pulled a “veer into oncoming traffic to pass a slow car” maneuver for the first time, I grabbed my bag a little tighter, but somehow, we all made it through.  As we shot out of the density of the city, we entered into a military base that was tree-lined and natural.  It was such a strange transition from the city.  Of course, there were still ample cars to be passed, honking all the while, and I noticed for the first time a jeep that must have been packed with at least 15 people including lots of babies and kids.  

Monkeys!

We wound up increasingly steep hills until we saw a large river off to the right of our vehicle.  As we ascended the mountain, the river kept getting larger and larger, and the cliffs that dropped off the right side of the car kept getting steeper and steeper.  I thought to myself on several occasions that surely the drivers wouldn’t do the veer into oncoming traffic move in the middle of a narrow, windy roadway with a sheer drop off on one side and no guardrails, but I was definitely mistaken.  The rules of the road apparently prevail everywhere. 

On the journey up we saw wild monkeys that were at least the size of a 5 or 6 year old (human), passed through small towns with Tibetan Buddhist flags strung over the road, and went through a larger city, Kalimpong, on the way to Pedong, our final destination. 


 Arriving at the Children’s Home seemed at first like a bit of an anti-climactic moment.  One minute we were driving, and the other we were pulled over on the side of the road.  But as I peered out the windows behind me, I noticed many small shadows (it was dark outside at this point) with smiles and eager hands.  We got out of the Jeep and already our bags were being unloaded off of the roof and into these little hands.  Before I could say “We can get them” the kids had turned up a hill and into darkness with bags that must have weighed at least what they did.  

As we followed some of the older kids with flashlights, I truly understood for the first time what Tryfina meant when she said “pack lightly, the home is a 15 minute walk uphill”.  I don’t know what I was picturing, but the walk uphill is a steep walk, with uneven stairs and grassy patches and roots all intertwined at places.  When I saw it in the light, I marveled that nobody in our group had broken a leg (nobody meaning me.)

Going down the hill (in daylight!)

As we saw the warm lights glowing from the home, I stopped to catch my breath and put my backpack down.  Everyone was a little bit awkward – the kids wanted to be with us, and we wanted to be with them, but none of us were really quite sure how to start.  After a few minutes, we were introduced to everyone at the home and we got some time to talk with Pastor Jonathan and Usha, the couple who run the home.  They had prepared a beautiful dinner for us that was so welcomed and appreciated

 Our kids reluctantly headed to bed with the promise that we would have plenty of time to get to know the kids the next day, and elated at the possibility of what the week would hold.

There is so much more to share and I will definitely do so, so check back for the next installment! 

(Photos are mostly mine but a few also belong to our amazing team photographer, Dennis!)

Hug a Church Worker Day

I've decided that today is International Hug a Church Worker Day.

So many of my church working friends both near and far are having rough weeks - rough months, even.  And so, churchgoing folk, I encourage you to show them a little bit of love.  Not because they preached a great sermon or loved your smelly middle schooler or because they sat with your dying parent or grandparent last weekend.  But just because you love them.  Or maybe they're not a hugger.  Maybe chocolate is the language that fuels them up.  I have no idea, really, but show them some love. 

Working in a church is tricky business.  It can be both, at the same time, the most wonderful, fulfilling, life-giving enterprise and yet the most discouraging, frustrating, problematic, tension-fraught experience of your life.  Perhaps this is why the tenure for youth directors lasts an overwhelming 18 months.  After 18 months, many youth directors have simply decided that it's too hard.  Perhaps the statistic is higher for ordained pastors because let's face it - after 4 years of undergrad and a grueling 3+ years of seminary, you've gotta stick with it for at least a few years, if only to pay off your student loans.

I don't mean to be cynical because I know many "lifers" both in youth ministry and in pulpit ministry (and indeed in children's, missions, outreach, and executive ministry as well).  What I do know, however, is that for the average churchgoer, many of the day to day things that church staff members deal with are largely unseen.  Many average churchgoers that I talk with describe dreamily a so-called "perfect" work environment where everyone prays all day long, never gets in fights, and where people don't mess up.  I'm often sorry to have to tell these dreamers that the truth is that real people work in churches.  Thus, real sins are in churches.  Thus, mess-ups, fights, wrong decisions, lack of spiritual growth, ulterior motives, politics and frustrations are, consequently, a very real part of working in a church. 

Now, are we better off spiritually than corporations?  I'd hope so.  I do pray in my current and did pray in my past workplace every. single. day.  Even if only to ask God to help me hold my tongue so I don't fall prey to any of the aforementioned sins.  But the truth is that we are all broken. Everyone from the Senior Pastor to the choir director (and even Youth Director!) are broken people.  We're struggling with what it means to live a life of faith - and what it means to be real and authentic while doing it.  We also cope with the tension between being real and being too real.  We cope with the gray areas, the manual-less areas, the situations where we have no idea how to proceed forward.  Because we're people.  Yes, we work for Jesus, but we're not Him.  I fall short every single day.  Every day.  Many times per day, even.  But for whatever reason, God calls us broken individuals to partner with Him.  He calls us to love people in His name and get paid for it.  Which most days is a pretty sweet job. 

But there are days where we, or someone else in our office falls short.  And things get messy.  Egos get in the way.  Triangulation or gossip take over.  Politics win over truth.  And the church can be a very weary place indeed.  Because I believe, that in all of us church-working people, that we're not so different from you, average church-goer.  We expect the church to be different, too.  We expect people to be better, less sinful, and more loving.  And when someone lets us down, it is an incredible disappointment. 

The church is the only job I can think of (and I've been thinking for a long time about this) where your personal and professional lives are so inextricably linked.  Faith is deeply personal - and without personal faith you cannot lead a church.  But, faith is corporate, too.  We live out our very personal faith corporately, just like everyone else.  But things get complicated because it's not just about faith.  If churches only hired the people with the best faith, me and probably many people I know would be out of a job, because many days, I struggle.

We are also called to be gifted in certain areas.  This can mean anything from being a good counselor to knowing how to operate Adobe Photoshop or give a good sermon.  Our gifts and talents lend themselves to the job.  And so, we're living out our personal faith in the middle of a group environment where we are both the shepherd and the servant.  Not to mention the various social aspects of the church.  I know next to nobody in Hong Kong that I didn't meet through a church event.  In fact, I know nobody in Hong Kong that I didn't meet through church.  Wrap that up in a neat package and what you see is an immense tension.

Imagine if, at the end of the day, you've had some struggle at work.  Perhaps you dial up your friends (who you may have met at church, maybe at your place or work, or anywhere else for that matter) and you tell your friend about it.  For church people, this isn't always possible or recommended.  For who wants to talk negatively about a work (church) situation to their friends?  Any responsible church worker will likely shy away from these discussions with their  non-church working friends.  Why? Because the burden is too great! How can you listen to the Senior Pastor and accept his or her authority if you heard about an explosive argument they had with the Missions Director?  How can you trust the Family Ministry Director if you heard what their leadership style is really like? 

So church-working people keep it to themselves, if they're like many in ministry.  Or if they're lucky they talk about it with their church-working friends.  And this can be a daily tension.  Not all churches are healthy or going well all the time.  And even in the healthiest of churches, there are conflicts and problems and people don't always live like Jesus did.  And many church workers shoulder this burden very much alone. 

I am happy to say that I write this article out of a place of immense contentment with my job.  My church isn't perfect, of course, but it is healthy.  My supervisor is excellent and I trust my co-workers.  I feel as though the balance between personal and professional is more balanced here than in any church I've ever worked in.  I belong to a network of over 30 youth directors that I can (and have) talked with about my struggles, both personally and professionally.  But I am acutely aware of how much of a rarity this luxury is. 

So the moral of the story is this:
Hug your church worker.  Or bring them chocolate.  Or invite them over for dinner.  Or send them a card.

Or just let them know that you love them.  Because they love you. For many people that is the entire reason they stay in hard positions in dying or frustrating churches.  Or why they tolerate a non-supportive supervisor or micromanaging committee.  Because if anything, church workers LOVE their people.

So, you may never hear your church working friend unload about the pastor or the flower committee or the choir director.  But that doesn't mean that it isn't hard.  And a little bit of love, you know, goes a long way.

Til Next Time,

The Adventurer

Asian Friends

One of the things I love most about my life here in Hong Kong is that I feel like I have a much more local experience than many of my expat friends.  How so, you say?  I'll tell you.

First and foremost, I live in a building where my roommates and I are the only white people.  The only ones.  So that makes us a) a spectacle and b) memorable.  What this also does is forces me to use Mandarin on a daily basis with our doormen.  This is good for a few reasons.  They love us, mostly because we are willing to take the time and effort to actually talk with them in a mutually understood language (neither of them speak any English whatsoever), and also because I feel that we are probably the first white people to live here.  I have even struck up elevator-smiling friendships with some of the grandmas that live on the floors below me. 

One particular anecdote stands out.  During Chinese New Year, the traditional greeting is Gung Hay Fat Choi.  I learned this early on in the 15 day period of Chinese New Year, and started employing it in my conversations regularly.  Towards the end of Chinese New Year, one of the elderly couples in my building held the elevator for me as I ran towards it and when I got in, I mumbled a quick mmmmgoiiii (Thank You).  The couple smiled and laughed at what I presume was my horrible pronunciation.  As they were getting off the elevator, I managed a Gung Hay Fat Choi to them and the strangest thing happened.  The husband's face lit up and they began bowing and saying it back to me.  Both of them were beaming.  And I realized in that moment that this particular experience wouldn't have happened just anywhere.  If they had spoken English, we might have just gone along in our day, but the (extremely small) effort I took made a huge difference to them.

This is why I moved to another country.  Not to have a convenient experience, not to feel good about my efforts or to build my career.  I moved to another country because I love learning about other cultures and other languages.  And I have definitely received far more than I have been able to give.

The other blessing I've had while living in Hong Kong is that the majority of my friends, the people in my church and the kids in my youth group are Asian.  I love this about my life here.  Now, this might seem a little strange to you.  You might be thinking, well, duh Whitney, you live in Asia.  Of course you know a lot of Asians.  But surprisingly, this is not the experience a lot of expats have.  It would probably be extremely possible to only have white friends.  Especially in corporate jobs.  I know people who work in divisions entirely staffed by expats, or worse, entirely staffed by people from the US.  So, it would be possible to go all day not interacting with Asian people.  Compounding this is the fact that many expats who make decent money move to the "expat ghettos" in Mid-Levels or Pokfulam.  I don't mean this to be derogatory - I just mean to say that many expats are attracted to these areas.  And of course they are.  They have more conveniences, grocery stores that carry more western products, nicer flats, and are convenient.  If I had kids, I might just consider living in one of these areas.  So, many people who live here and who don't care about interacting with locals, frankly, might never do it.

I'm glad I've gotten connected with my church and another young adult group where I am in the minority.  I have so many Asian friends here, and I learn something new from every time I see them.  No exaggeration. 

I've learned about Asian family structure and the idea of revering ones' parents and elders.  I've talked and debated with my friends about the value of taking care of your parents, and how this ideal is completely flipped from the values I grew up with.  I've heard how many of my friends live with their parents all the way until they're married, and that this is considered model behavior from a good son or daughter.  I've talked with my friends about the pressures that growing up in a traditional Asian family can bring and how for many of my friends there were only three job choices available to them growing up - Doctor, Lawyer or Banker, in that order.  I've picked up random Cantonese and even got a lesson on how the gospel message can be portrayed through Chinese characters.  And this just scratches the surface.  But I can surely say that this is an experience that I never would have had if I didn't have Asian friends.

I've been reflecting a lot about my time in Denmark lately.  I loved that time probably more than any other in my life.  And for the longest time I couldn't figure out why.  But I think I finally have the answer.  I developed good, solid friendships with Danes there.  I learned and lived the culture.  I tried the language out.  I learned to make Danish food and celebrate Danish holidays and it made my experience there extremely rich.  And that is what Hong Kong is becoming for me.  I love the new things I am experiencing.  I love that I never know what to expect when I gather with my Asian friends.  I love that I am constantly amazed by just how different yet similar we all are. 

So, Asian friends, thanks for befriending this Gweilo.  I love and appreciate you all more than I can say!

Til Next Time,

The Adventurer

Acronym Overload

                                                        

One of the most confounding things for me when I first moved to Hong Kong was the endless array of acronyms in use on a daily basis.  I keenly remember sitting in a Youth Directors meeting shortly after I arrived listening to a conversation that I swore was English, though I understood very little of it.  As it turns out, I was being baptized by fire with the endless litany of International School abbreviations of which there are far too many to list here.  The truth is that Hong Kong loves acronyms.  For real.  Since I’ve lived here, they have become a regular if not still comical part of my daily life.  

My boss shared this article with us the other day in staff meeting and it occurred to me just how insane it is.  Our church used to be acronym-ized, but we actually ditched that because we found that surprise, surprise, acronyms tell you basically nothing about the place and just in general confuse people.  If only the rest of HK was so awesome.  (Like that acronym usage?!)

For example, for my job, I have to know these acronyms related to schools: WIS, HKIS, CDNIS, CIS, SIS, ICA, KGV, DBS, and ISF, just to name a few (for reference, West Island School, Hong Kong International School, Canadian International School, Chinese International School, Singapore International school, Island Christian Academy, King George the Fifth, Diocesan Boys School, and Island Schools Foundation.)

I have to know these acronyms to communicate with people from other churches: ECC(Evangelical Covenant Church), Island ECC (Island Evangelical Covenant Church), HKMBC, (Hong Kong Mandarin Bible Church), and ICA (International Christian Assembly).  And for the trickiest one of all, I have to know our mission partners, ICM (International Care Ministries) and ICM (Inner City Ministries).  

I take the MTR (Mass Transit Railway), or occasionally a KMB (Kowloon Motor Bus), or maybe even a GMB (Green Mini Bus), occasionally I visit TST (Tim Sha Tsui) or the NT (New Territories).  Each month, I pay my PCCW (Pacific Century Cyberworks) bill at HSBC (Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation) where I choose between HKD (Hong Kong Dollars) and RMB (Ren Min Bi), which I would never get unless I was going to the PRC (People’s Republic of China) and once a month, I pay my rent at BEA (Bank of East Asia). 
                                                     

Since I moved to the HKSAR (Hong Kong Special Administrative Region), I have made many good friends, some of which live in CWB (Causeway Bay).  Some people I know here go out partying in LKF (Lan Kwai Fong) every weekend, though I’m way too tired for that by the end of the week.  Every morning, I like to read the SCMP (South China Morning Post).  I still haven’t made it out to DB (Discovery Bay), but I have been to HKDL (Hong Kong Disney Land).  

And last but not least, let’s not forget about H1N1 (dreaded bird flu to be avoided at all costs).

That’s 31 acronyms that I use on a regular basis, people.  And when I moved here I thought Cantonese would be my biggest challenge. Ha.  

And here was the worst I've ever seen.  Some poor kid was burdened with this heavily acronym-ized shirt.  HKSKHTCIS…!?!? I looked it up and it's a social program of some kind... I think...

I rest my case.



Til next time,

-The Adventurer!

Q-and-A

Many apologies for not posting more recently.  It is insane how the work piles up when you're out of the country for two weeks.  When I got back to Hong Kong, I came up with the idea for this blog while talking to a friend.  We were sharing experiences of being home and all of the questions people had about living in Hong Kong, or Asia in general.  I thought it might be amusing (and hopefully informative) to post some of the top questions with my answers.  And hey, maybe if someone is moving to HK this will be helpful, too. Here goes.

Q: Where do you live in Hong Kong? 
A: I've talked about this in my blog before, but I guess not very explicitly.  I live in Wan Chai, an area two districts East of the Central District (what you see on postcards, contains most of the iconic buildings associated with HK.  Central that is, not Wanchai).

Q: I heard you live in a den of iniquity.  Can you confirm or deny?
A: Well, true.  Depending on your definition of 'den of iniquity'.  Yes, I live in the area of Wan Chai that is known for its, shall we say, ladies of the night.  (see follow up question below)

Q: Isn't that dangerous?
A: I know you won't believe me, but it isn't dangerous.  Hong Kong in general is extremely safe.  I have never seen any crime of any sort, even in my area.  The largest threat in my neighborhood are drunk Australians pouring out of the clubs, but in general they're pretty tame so long as you have a good attitude and are a fast runner (okay, about the past part, I kid.) Honestly, I think the Chinese restaurant around the corner from me that spews noxious gasses that smell like wet dog is about the most dangerous thing around.

Q: What do you eat?
A: I love to eat, so this is a great question.  What I LOVE about Wan Chai (and HK in general) is that it is a very International city.  Within a two block radius, I have a middle eastern place, Thai food, local Chinese restaurants,  a British pub, an Outback steakhouse, a coffee shop and a Spanish Tapas place, and an all-day breakfast place open 24 hours per day (and that is just scratching the surface).  Literally any and everything you could want to find in Hong Kong you can.  So, in answer to this question, my favorite places are a vegetarian wrap place in SoHo (near my office) called Mana, a Japanese chain restaurant called Ajisen Ramen, a Tapas place in Wanchai called Viva Ana, and I do eat a lot of Pret, a British sandwich/soup chain. 

Q: How do you get around?  Isn't Hong Kong huge? 
A: Like most residents of big cities, I spend a lot of time in a very small area.  For example, I live the majority of my life in five districts, Sheung Wan, Central, Admiralty, Wan Chai, and Causeway Bay.  They are all connected on the same MTR line, though if the need struck you, you could walk from Sheung Wan to Causeway Bay in about 45 minutes.  I take many means of transportation to get around - for example, I take the MTR (subway) to work each day, I often walk to meet friends in Causeway Bay or Admiralty (they're on either side of me), or I take a double decker bus (the most common kind) or a green mini bus (the most awesome kind - seats 16 and will basically pick you up or let you off wherever you want along a predetermined route) to go other places. 

Q: What has been the biggest surprise about living in Hong Kong?
A: I love this question!  I had to think the first time somebody asked me (Thanks Hardie!) but I think the biggest surprise is just how livable the city is.  I expected HK to be really exotic and foreign, but I am often surprised by the efficiency and level of livability this city has.  It is incredibly easy to live here.  Everything (at least in the majority of the city) is in English along with Chinese, most people speak perfectly fluent English (and Mandarin along with their native Cantonese), and transportation is cheap and easy.  This solves a lot of potential problems before they even arise.  I will say that one of the only things that consistently ruffles me is the lack of personal space here.  When you couple 7 million people in a very small area with a culture that doesn't have the same idea of personal space as Americans do, you get a lot of touching by random strangers.  Not inappropriate touching, let me say, just a constant crowd of people up against you.  I'm not sure that I'll ever be used to that.

Q: What do you miss the most about the US?
A: This is probably the question I got asked the most while I was in the US.  I don't think I can narrow it down to just one thing, so I'll say my top few misses.  First and foremost, it is having a clothes dryer in my apartment.  I know this seems crazy, but there is something so cathartic about doing a load of laundry with a laundry soap you choose, spicing it up with a little fabric softener in your favorite scent and pulling out soft, and mercifully dry items from the washing machine.  I finally wised up here and started sending my clothes out (where they do at least have a dryer) instead of doing the hang dry thing.  I don't know, there is just something about air dryed clothes that just feels like putting on a cardboard box to me.  Also, if you hang dry something, you can be sure that it will not be truly dry for several days thanks to the extreme humidity here.

I also miss one stop shops like Target.  It can be incredibly frustrating trying to find things in HK because stores don't always carry the same things, or have the same thing from visit to visit.  It would be so great to be able to get a pair of pants, groceries, a lamp and gift bags all in one place.  But alas, that is not the way it works here.  So things that used to take me 30 minutes can now literally take an entire day.  At least I get to explore?

Food.  You know, everyone has their comfort food.  If a Trader Joe's would open up around the corner from me here in HK this would probably be solved.  But until then, I will continue to crave Trader Joe's Cranberry Macadamia trek mix and Salsa with Tostito chips.  Nom.

Q:  I just feel so sorry for you without anyone to date over there...is there anybody you could date?  (disclaimer this question wasn't asked to me, rather my friend, but it was so hilarious I just had to post it)
A: I assume that my friend's friend is making a few inferences. 
1) Asia is full of Asians 
2) White people don't/shouldn't date Asians
3) There are no other White people in Hong Kong.  
The truth is that yes, Asia is full of Asians.  The other truth is that I know a lot of white people who have or currently are dating or married to Asians.  Third, there are many, many white people in Hong Kong.  In response to this question, I would simply say this.  I didn't know just how attractive Asian men were until I was in a country full of them.  Case closed.

Q:  Isn't it scary waking up every morning knowing that the Commies could be tapping your phone and ransacking your apartment at any moment? (usually paired with some compliment about being so brave to take the love of Jesus to 'those people'.)
A: Well, the first problem here is that there are no "Commies" here, at least not any that I know.  Hong Kong is a democratically governed Special Administrative Region of China.  Yes, that does mean that technically HK belongs to China, but it is about as similar to mainland China as New Zealand is to the US.  HK pretty much governs itself, and I while I hate to disappoint, Christianity is completely, 100% legal here.

Q:  What's the weather like in Japan?
A:  Oh my.  This is the most irritating question I got asked while I was home.  Three times.  If you don't understand why I am not answering this question, I suggest you go to your local google maps and locate Hong Kong on a map. (A real answer is that I suppose the weather is lovely this time of year, though since Hong Kong is about as far from Japan as California is from North Dakota, your guess is probably about as good as mine). 

Well, I think that's about it!  Maybe I'll do a second installment if you all have any burning questions that you'd like to be answered!  In happy news, my parents will be here in just a couple of weeks! It will be so fun to be the tour guide and show them all around my new home.  I'll also be posting our itineraries after the fact so that if you or anyone you know is coming to HK they can benefit from it!

Until next time,

The Adventurer

Back in the US of A

It really has been great being home.  For those of you who don't know, I surprised my Mom for Christmas which was the most awesome and nerve-wracking experience of. my. life.  Let me tell you that keeping that type of secret is not easy! But that'll be another blog post.

One of the strangest things about living abroad is coming home.  There are so many weird things about being in the US, especially coming from Hong Kong.  My life there is very different from my life in the US was, but is probably the polar opposite of the life my parents live. They live in a very small (~3,000 people) town in North Texas.  So there has been ample opportunity for comparisons.  I have been taking pictures of things my Hong Kong friends would find amusing, and let me tell you, there are certainly a few choice things.

 

To start with, Texans LOVE Texas.  I am a Texan, so of course, I too love Texas, but it is really interesting seeing the level of Texas devotion present.  Take for example this.  Why yes, this is cheese in the shape of Texas.  I saw it at a grocery store in Austin.  Why does one need cheese in the shape of Texas?  One will never know, but there it is.  Perhaps there is no Hong Kong shaped cheese because with all the outlying islands, it would just end up looking like a mess (and costing $298347827394 dollars, thank you, HK cheese prices). 

My parents were given this as a gift by someone at their church the other day.  I flipped through it and it is apparently an ode to everything Texas.  Could also be titled "Why Texas is Awesome".  True enough for the most part.

 

Additionally, Texans love guns.  It has been interesting to be abroad and especially in a place like HK where guns are illegal during this whole Newtown tragedy.  But, welcome back to Texas! You can visit a variety of gun stores, including ones just for girls.  

On a related note, see this segment on the news.  I made my parents pause.  Keep in mind that this is Texas, but still I was surprised at some of these stats. 

Moving on to something less controversial, I discovered to my dismay that my room in Hong Kong is the size of my parents' bed.  Literally.  

 

Why yes, this Hot Chocolate mix is large enough to last you through the zombie apocalypse. It didn't occur to me that the reason that everything comes in small quantities in HK is that nobody has any room for large things. You should have seen me in Sam's club. I was on complete overload.  And it finally occurred to me that perhaps the reason many Americans are incapable of making decisions is because we have so many choices.  I was telling my parents that often in the HK grocery store, there are two cereal choices - corn flakes or mystery Chinese brand.  In the grocery store here there are 9837 choices for cereal.  How does one ever decide?!

 

This is one of the churches my Dad serves.  It is literally in the middle of nowhere.  There is a lot of open land here in North Texas which has been a welcome reprieve from the multitude of skyscrapers in HK.  

 

Last but not least, I discovered something fascinating.  My dad can do the Asian Squat!  I spied him doing this the other day and was completely astounded (and of course immediately had to take a picture).  I have been consistently trying to do this since I moved to Hong Kong and can honestly say I am no closer today than I was when I started.  He'll fit in just fine when my parents come to visit. 

 This is short, but nonetheless will give you a little glimpse into my temporary re-entry to US life.  I'll blog more on the surprise later, but for now, Happy New Year! May 2013 be full of adventures! 

-The Adventurer