Thanksgiving 2015

It's that time of year again. Time for a Thankful list. I do this every year, but usually under a different theme or perspective. This year I'm returning to a 2013 theme of top 10 moments of the past year I am thankful for. It was a rough one, so bear with me.

10. Listening to this song for the first time. It's such a shame you can only experience something for the first time once.

9. Marshfield Clinic- After have some mega freak-outs in Jakarta about my sickness, I was grateful to have some real answers. Or at least some doctors who were taking my situation seriously. I was a complete grown up as I listened to the doctor explain the probable diagnosis, and the procedure I was about to have done. I held it all together as they injected my leg with a numbing agent, took 2 lovely slices of skin out for a biopsy, and explained to me the procedure for preventing infection in the 2 weeks to come. After re-dressing, I emerged from the room just as my mom was arriving. I ran into her arms and started sobbing, partly out of fear and partly out of relief that I finally had some answers coming my way. Thankful for excellent health care and parents who are there for me when I need them the most.

8. Minneapolis Airport- Holy mother of all emotions and hangovers. Thankful for the fact that it would be 2 years before I could have another double day tripper. Amazed at how fortunate I am to have so many people that make saying goodbye this hard, and a home I can always return to.

7. Saying goodbye to Quincey and Kaydence-
Quincey and I had an epic talk on the swings about feelings. This was based mostly on the fact that we had just seen the movie Inside Out. I was amazed at his ability to describe for me how he was feeling. "TT, KK is feeling lots of sadness and anger because you are leaving. I'm feeling a little bit of sadness, but mostly happiness because you got to play with me." As I held back tears I told him I was feeling all complete sadness. "It's okay to feel to sadness sometimes." A tear fell from my eye. "I love you TT."Such a sweetie!
I had never seen Kaydence cry the way she did when she hugged me goodbye. After all the heartbreak I had been through over the last 6 months, nothing was more heartbreaking than this moment.

6. Sufjan concert- Guys I had waited far to long to see my favorite musician in concert. And yes, I did cry at the lyrics "The past is still the past, the bridge to nowhere." And during John Wayne Gacy. He didn't even play my favorite song....I can't even imagine.

5. Lake Pliva- So, Cortney and I took this epic road trip through Mostar and Croatia. It was incredible for many reasons. One of those being that I got to be with my best friend. Another because we got to get off the beaten touristy trail. When we stopped the car to explore these steps Courtney snapped a picture as I took in the extreme awe. I began to cry at the intense beauty. I just couldn't get over what nature was capable of providing us with.

4. Star gazing in Montenegro- Okay so I can't choose one particular time. This is generally my Friday night after everyone else goes home activity. I grab another beer from the market (terrible decision) and walk somewhere along the bay to look at the stars. I'm so incredibly thankful to be able to even think about doing this. Stars! Whenever I want them!

3. Boat ride in Thailand- I spent the day traveling around to little islands and drinking beers and on the way home while everyone else crammed inside the boat I went to the front and lay down on the bow and looked up at the stars. Even though everything in my life was a complete mess, I knew deep down that in that moment I was insanely happy that the mess had happened, and that I got to find a way to clean it up.

2.  The moon on the way to Montenegro- I was so crazy nervous about leaving Minneapolis again. After feeling so out of place in Jakarta, it just felt great to know I was somewhere I belonged, and I really didn't want to lose that feeling again. But when I saw that full moon over the mountains, I knew I was exactly where I belonged.

1. Campfires in Jenny's backyard- If you were at one of these you know what generally happened. One more one more, and sharing all our deepest darkest secrets, while crying completely real tears. I don't remember the majority of these conversations, but I know they were soul mate level ones.

As I finish writing these I notice a theme of crying, and I wrote them I did in fact cry a few tears. Thankful does't even begin to cover what I feel when I look at these moments. Awe-struck would probably be closer. I still don't understand how I am able to live such and incredible life.

Give and Take

I began this blog almost as soon as I arrived in Montenegro. But it has progressed to more and more and I have struggled to put into words what I really want it to say. But given the recent state of the world I feel like it is one that needs to be shared.

Once upon a time I was afraid to love. I was afraid to figure out what love was supposed to be. I had tried and failed. I moved abroad gained some self-confidence, and for the first time in a long time I was happy, and content with my life and who I was becoming.

So when I finally regained my footing and started thinking about letting myself take a jump into all the unknowns of love I sought the advice of my mother, which was, at the time, a rare occasion.  She gave me the following advice about love and relationships:

“Serious and not so serious, you are learning from life experiences. You are always becoming a new person. I still am, and when someone loves you they allow that. Loving is not about you, it is really about the other person, and giving the best of you to them to make them a better person and vice a versa. Someone falls in love with giving themselves to you and letting you do the same in return. Sometimes it’s amazing and sometimes it’s really hard.”

I saved this quote because it is some of the best advice I’ve ever been given.

After ending up single again last April I was surprised at how much happier I was. How relieved I was to be giving to myself again, and finding the true parts of myself.

Being home was a big clusterfuck of emotions. I expected the heartbrokenness to finally hit me, and in some ways it did.  I thought I’d be ready to leave again after a few short weeks to start a new chapter of my life. But…there were unexpected twists. There was confusion, and talks about my future in America. There were new and old friends, reminders of who I truly am, and I regained the belief that I deserved more than what Jakarta was giving me. I deserved to wake up every morning with a desire to live, work, eat, move, and breathe.  I felt like I could just make my new start then and there, and be happy. No need to live out this adventurous life anymore.

When I hugged my niece goodbye she sobbed and sobbed into my shoulder and I thought to myself “I cannot do this anymore.” My love was taking and not giving. Later I hugged my mom and dad goodbye and wondered how they could be so steadily supportive of every step of my life, regardless of it was a good or bad decision. Their love for me was consistently giving more than my love for them was.

Later that week I had an epiphany as we were making our way to the 331 club for our third night in a row.  Daryn was driving and I saw that beautiful skyline from 35W and thought to myself how honest and true my mom's advice from 2 years prior had been. So many people have loved and supported me in this journey to become who I am. So many have given and given themselves.  Was I taking too much and giving nothing in return? And then I realized that love gives and gives, but there is no love in the world that gives but doesn't take something in return.

The moon takes darkness to give light. A sunset gives beauty to take away another day in passing. A tree takes nutrients from the ground to grow tall and strong. Dancing takes energy to give smiles. A candle uses oxygen to create a marvelous flame.

Love is certainly about giving yourself to another person, and it is about sacrificing to make it work. But love also takes.

When tragedies happen in the world it always makes me reflect on my life. It becomes impossible to not think that this could very well be my last day of breathing. I wonder if I’m living the way I should be. What is the most important thing in life? Should I be living closer to family and friends? Or should I be so bold as to grab my pack take the 2 grand I have to my name and hit the road and travel the way I desire?

I fear I am taking too much and giving nothing in return.

So to those of you who continue and continue to give your love to me, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate constantly feeling supported from thousands of miles away. And you all deserve to know that there is not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could just be in two places at once. I can give you nothing but my heart, which is always there, and a promise to not take too many more selfish years before I come home permanently. Just you know... one more one more.

Mostar: Hauntingly Beautiful

The touristy side of Mostar goes like this: Stay at Hostel Majdas. DO NOT skip the tour. Eat at Hindi Han and the best cevapi place (which is near Tito’s bridge). Go get beers at Black Dog Pub (they have craft) and be sure to visit the Sniper Tower and Partisan Memorial.

The other side of this story goes something like this: once you begin traveling you notice that some places are more enjoyable than others for a number of reasons. Sometimes it has a lot to do with the people you meet (thanks Thailand) or the amount of experience you can cram into it (Thanks Jogjakarta.) But the best places are the ones where you have an instant connection with the culture and people. You taste the food and feel alive. The people welcome you into their stories and they touch your hearts. You look around and see love and beauty. You find bits and pieces of your heart in the mountains and on the streets, and you leave bits of it behind as well. Mostar is the first place I visited that felt that way to me, and for that reason I had to come back. 

While on a day tour I learned so much about the history and culture of this country, and I cannot simply spend time spitting it all back to you because the tour I went on took 10 hours of stories and talking for me to get it, plus additional discussions and research. I'll put the main point of it in simple terms: There was a war in Yugoslavia. Most people know very little or nothing about it. To be honest, I didn't until I visited this region of the world.

For those of you who don't know: In 1990 Yugoslavia was a great world power. After Tito's death Milošević  came to power as President of Serbia. Disagreements began and Slovenia quickly sought independence resulting in a 10 day long war. Croatia soon followed suit, but their war left a far longer and greater impact. Eventually they joined forces with Serbia to try and split Bosnia up, and keep the pieces for themsleves. Citizens were killed, bridges were broken, genocide was a major part of it, and the UN was highly responsible for its continuation.

Most people agree that the war ended in December of 1995 when Bosnia agreed to partitioning a portion of land to be known as "Republika Srpksa". It didn't.

There are no missiles being fired, there are no bombs being dropped, the snipers are no longer firing at innocent citizens, but, the war continues through segregations and fear. People from one side of the city refuse to interact with people from the other. One side of the city has modern buildings and green parks while the other suffers to keep its heritage alive. Kids are taught different history and languages in school. Muslim Bosnians and Croats who are romantically involved are judged by their family.

The war ended in 1995, when I was just 5 years old, but Bosnia has been fighting a silent war for 20 years. The remnants of the Yugoslavian war and are all over the city and they make me sick.  The remnants of this silent war break my heart. 

As we leave the city to begin the 10 hour long tour, our guide points out a large white cross. A little while later he points out some rocks in the distance that form several letters. Later we are told that the cross is a Croat symbol of hate towards the Bosnian Muslims. The stones on the other side are a retaliation. 

The letters spell out "B&H me te volimo." "Bosnia and Herzegnovia we love you" it states. I think this is such an incredible act. After so many year of fighting, after being treated in terrible fashion, after bombs, and gunshots, and genocide, these people are sill capable of offering their love. 

And then there is us...Americans. Taking and taking and offering nothing in return. We shun Muslims for mistakes a few of "them" have made. You can be an immigrant and work 60 hours a week for less than minimum wage and we will still judge you for not learning English. We will judge you for terminating a child you know you cannot afford, but upon convincing you to keep it, we will refuse financial support. We will shun you for loving someone freely simply because you share the same genitalia, but will judge you for needing medication to deal with depression. We will pray for you when you have cancer but expect you to fork out thousands of dollars to pay for your own chemotherapy. We will offer you support when you crave it the least and then turn our backs when it is needed the most. 

Where has our love gone?

The day after the tour we return to the dervish house. In this house Muslims perform whirling dancing to show their devotion to their God. Many use it as a form of meditation. I choose to perform my own religious act in the nature that surrounds this surreal place. I sit by the flowing water whose source remains a mystery and close my eyes. The sound of the water moving through the river is blood rushing through my veins. I am alive, and breathing. My heart is thumping and I am grateful for every single beat. 

Later in the day we visit a deserted Partisan Memorial. Here lies the graves of so many who fought for their rights during WWII, and among their broken flower shaped gravestones are walls of Fascist graffiti. People are heartless enough to defile this masterpiece. I sit among the deserted beauty and remember the moment I realized the words to describe this part of the world. "Hauntingly Beautiful." Still a perfect explanation.  You look around in amazement of the nature and sights. 

You listen to stories and attempt to memorize the history in your mind. You see an old woman smile at you as she tries to sell fruits at the market. You imagine her part in this history and in this place. A shiver engulfs your soul. Hauntingly beautiful.

At the snipers nest the feelings are the same. Trees emerge from the glass that has been shattered on the floor. Hauntingly beautiful. I think back to a quote I relied on when I was deciding how to pick up the confused, shattered pieces of my soul that remained in Jakarta. "They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds." 

Throughout the Balkans there is a heavy coffee culture. People will go to a cafe, and simply sit for 3 hours sipping 1 small espresso. Our tour guide explained to us that going for coffee with someone is not to be taken lightly, as in reality there is nothing more intimate than drinking coffee together. This is something you do with only a true friend.

I feel like I haven't had such an intimate relationship with anywhere, as much as I do with the Balkans. I want to sit and sip coffee with it for a long time. 

Another night passes and I sleep like a baby. I wake up the next morning and head out to explore. As I pass into the old town I am overwhelmed with emotions from the past 2 days of experience and have to stop, sit on the cement street and let the tears run, as hundreds of people rush pass me to keep to their busy schedules. 

So much has gotten me to this point. So many little events. So many random encounters. So many planes, buses, boats, and car trips. So many friends. So much love. So much heartache and homesickness. So many hellos and goodbyes. I am forever grateful that I have had the pleasure to call this place home not once, but twice. 

This love is hauntingly beautiful.