Things that make you go "Hmmmmm"

We have officially been in Singapore 5 weeks as of today. School is in session and schedules are filling up with lunches out with friends, meetings for church and school, business trips, and even a birthday party the boys have been invited to. While it doesn't feel completely like home, we are not wasting any time in putting down some roots. I guess you could say we are embracing the concept of "blooming where you are planted".

I still walk around in awe of where we live. I have had some incredibly interesting conversations with taxi drivers and am starting to learn a little about the culture of Singapore. There are several interesting aspects of this country that I feel compelled to share with you because after all, I want you to feel like you are getting the full Singaporean experience through us.

Here we go.

Things that make me go "Hmmmmmm":

(insert throat clearing here)

1. This first item I have tried to articulate several different ways and can't seem to get it right so I'm just going to say it.

There is an obvious lack of silicone here.

I am not going to insert my opinion one way or another about that fact, but it honestly took me all of 48 hours before I mentioned my observation to Scot. Being a wise man, he made no comment at all. I have since voiced my observation to new friends who have all concurred. The end.

2. For some unexplainable reason, people walk around here with their drinks in plastic bags. There is a straw sticking out of the top of the bag in order to enjoy the refreshment but it's in a Top Secret kind of way. Like they swore off Frappachinos but then passed by a Starbucks and couldn't help themselves and now they are hiding their drink in a bag to avoid judgemental stares from others. These pictures are not the best because I was taking them while pretending that I wasn't taking them. It makes me feel like I'm a covert opperative of some kind.

Notice his drink from McDonalds in a clear bag? He's not ashamed!

Her drink in her left hand in a handy carrying bag.

3. There are NO baked chips of any kind in Singapore that I have found thus far. I am assuming that since everyone here is 4'9" and 70 pounds, they are probably willing to splurge on a bag of Lays.

4. There are more Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, Porsches, and Aston Martins here than anywhere else I've ever been. They are everywhere! We live on an island! A crowded island at that. I'm all for driving a fast car, but when you can go from 0-100 in 5 seconds flat before having to stop for a stoplight or traffic, what's the point? Never mind the fact that you can't even get a new Toyota Camry for less than $95,000 so you're talking some serious coin for one of those rides. Notice how I slip so easily into street talk? I'm just cool like that.

5. When handing over a business card or credit card, you do it with both hands, not just one. It's like paying respect to the card. I like to throw in a little bow just to spice things up.

6. This is a typical Asian toilet. Every restroom, or loo, that I have been in has had the typical Western toilet as well. My friend informed me that in Malaysia and other neighboring countries, that is not the case. Which means at some point I am going to have to figure out how to get my 5'11" self into a squatting position without touching every germ infested wall around me or losing my balance and falling into the hole which would lead to me screaming and would certainly incite a national disaster. It is not unusual to walk into a restroom with all Western style toilets and find a set of footprints on the seat where someone felt the need to practice their aim.

7. It is Hungry Ghost Festival time here in Singapore. All around the country you find altars much like this one. The Hokkien Chinese believe that the gates of hell open up at this time of year and souls roam the earth. What a fun filled festival! It makes you want to grab the children and hop right over to Singapore, doesn't it? The Chinese build altars with incense, mandarin oranges, roasted suckling pig, and rice being offered up to the ghosts to appease them.

Don't want Grandpa getting ticked off!

They also burn fake money to ensure great fortune in their afterlife. Why fake? I was told it was because they can fool their gods using fake money instead of real money. Ummmm........is it just me or does it seem a little odd to actually trust a god that is that stupid? Just sayin'.......

8. Speaking of money, all the "paper" money here is actually made out of plastic. They come in $2, $5, $10, $50, $100 bills which are different sizes depending on the amount. It's brilliant and fun and still seems very fake to me.......which is absolutely reflected in our poor bank account.

9. I have been told that they do hangings at the prison on Fridays. It is not open to the public which works well for me because you couldn't drag me to something like that. BUT, it is a very useful fact when threatening my boys about consequences for breaking the rules. Fear can be a very useful parenting tool.

10. We are now using words such as "alight" instead of get out, "queue" instead of get in line, "handphone" instead of cellphone, and "lift" instead of elevator. You refer to Asian men as "Uncle" as a sign of respect and the women are "Auntie". It makes us feel very cool and proper to use our new vocabulary. We are doing our best to blend. Well, except for the height issue and my curly hair and Garrett's red hair, but other than that, we are totally blending in!

There are many more things, but I like things all nice and neat so we'll stop at 10.

Every day I encounter something new or different that makes me smile or wish I had my camera with me or shake my head in wonder. It's a wonderful and fascinating country with much, much more exploring left to do!!

Plugged In Once Again

On June 28, we boarded a plane in Houston bound for the start of our new adventure. Did you know we moved to Singapore? Just kidding.

That fateful day, I had to turn off my phone. I waited until the absolute last moment when I was seconds away from a face to face encounter with the air marshal that was surely on board our plane. Ever since meeting a real live air marshal this summer who told me he could kill a guy with his thumbs, I've been fascinated with the challenge of identifying the thumb killing protector of the airplane on each flight we've taken.

I digress.......the turning off of my phone and putting it away until the time came in Singapore when I would have permission to turn it on again without paying $274.53 a second, was traumatic for me.

I am a cell phone addict.

It's easy to say that now because I went through all the hard stuff weeks ago. Detoxing from a lack of access to text, email, Facebook, and talking to friends was UGLY! I had the shakes, nervous twitching, hallucinations, and cell phone envy in those first few days. I would hyperventilate over the thought of having no available contact with others and just narrowly avoided adopting habits such as smoking or picking my cuticles in an effort to occupy my now empty hands.

Flash forward SIX weeks. Yes, that would be 42 days or 1008 hours later and my phone works once again. It is a bittersweet moment for me. I had gotten used to not having a phone and so I was forced to actually look out the window during bus rides or actually have a conversation with my kids during subway trips. I wasn't consumed with who had a bad hair day or was going to the grocery store per Facebook posts and the only chatting I was doing was with the real live people that were actually sitting in front of me. I wasn't distracted during conversations by a ring notifying me of a new email. I walked empty handed to places looking up and around the entire time instead of at my phone as a way of avoiding eye contact with others. I had phone numbers of new friends written on scraps of paper that littered the inside of my purse. I was much more present.

I think that having a handphone (as they are referred to here) makes this move feel more permanent. I have a Singapore phone number now which is an 8 digit number written as 1234 5678 and we almost have a new local bank account to pay for said cell phone number. I have written and received a couple of texts from local friends and even walked down the rode today reading a new email. I am sad to say that I will probably shush a child or half hear what he's saying while engrossed in my phone and will join all the others in sitting at a table to eat, plopping my phone next to my salad fork before my napkin even goes into my lap.

I hope that I will take my forced time off to develop better handphone habits. I honestly think a person without a cell phone is more pleasant that being with one that is addicted. I much prefer being pleasant. I think I'll start to use my time more wisely.......like exploring all the possibilities having killer thumbs could afford me!!

Scenes From A Grocery Store

In preparation for friends coming to visit tomorrow, Nathan and I set out by bus to do some grocery shopping. In the last two weeks I have been to 6 different stores and one wet market (farmer's market) in an attempt to figure out where my store of choice was going to be. After much exploring and more shopping than I would have done in 2 months back in Houston, I have found my favorites. We discovered the Singapore version of Wal Mart in a store called Carrefour located, like many other grocery stores, in the bottom floor of a local mall. It is both large and relatively inexpensive so I am forcing myself to go there on a regular basis. We think it's really fun that it's a 2-story store with this fun walkway to take you between the two levels.

Since we are now experienced shoppers, we went with our $1 in hand prepared to "rent" our cart.

The very first thing you will notice when walking into Carrefour is the smell. Nathan gagged his way through his first experience in this store because it honestly smells like you have walked into a storehouse for rotting fruit. I now know to expect this so it's funny to see novice Carrefour shoppers walking around with noses wrinkled, shirts covering mouth and nose opting for the scent of their own self over that of the store. It's truly one of the worst smells ever. The culprit? A fruit named Dorian. It smells so bad that there's a saying that Dorian "tastes like heaven, but smells like hell". It's enough to make you want to have an altar call right in the middle of the store. It is actually illegal to buy Dorian and take it on any form of public transportation because of the smell.

With my camera in hand, determined to grab a picture of this foul smelling fruit, we went to the large display of Dorian in the center of the store. I snapped a picture of the guy in charge of cutting up the fruit and then he offered us a complimentary piece. In a matter of seconds, Nathan and I had an audience of about 20 Asian shoppers anxious for the floor show of watching the poor Americans suffer through their first Dorian experience. Nathan was the first to take a small bite. There was a full head to toe shudder that followed that bite. It was then my turn, all the while being cheered on by a growing crowd. Never one to want to disappoint a crowd, I picked up the fruit with the look and texture of raw chicken skin, took a deep breath and bit into it. It was truly one of the most horrendous things I have ever tasted. I'm sure the look on my face said it all as there was an eruption of laughter from the crowd before they began to disperse. I was fighting the urge to vomit right there while graciously telling the man that although we appreciated his generosity, we would not be taking any home with us.

I am convinced that the Dorian display is the key to fast weight loss. The smell is so intense and so terrible that there is no extra lingering in the cookie aisle or walking back and forth in front of the bakery deciding whether that 5 minutes of excercise yesterday merits buying a bakery cake. Nope.....you pretty much take a deep breath, run into the store and get what you absolutely need and leave as soon as you can. If only there was a Scratch 'n Sniff option for this blog.......

We decided to pass on the $45 bag of frozen escargot. We did not, however, pass on this next aisle where you could hear the angels sing. Well, at least Texas angels......

I have been very surprised to find that you buy eggs on an aisle much like you would buy a can of tuna or a jar of olives. No refrigeration needed. I have a love/hate relationship with eggs ever since that time in college when I cracked open an egg to find blood inside. To say that I was scarred is a gross understatement. I don't know if I thought refrigeration is what prevented the egg from turning into a chicken.....I am not sure to this day how that happens, nor do I want to know. All I know is that there was something very disturbing about buying eggs that were sitting out there all exposed and warm. I nervously purchased a dozen and was happy to find not a feather nor a beak in the entire bunch.

Nathan and I completed our shopping in record time and joined the 362 other shoppers in incredibly long lines to check out before going outside the mall to line up once again for a taxi. I purchased just over a half full cart of groceries for $150 today and consider that a raging success. In this house, that should last about 3 days.

We are looking forward to having the Linebargers here for the next several days and having the chance to be Singapore tourists! I am going to have to consciously make an effort to not smother my poor friend in my excitetment at having her here.

Hmmmm......I wonder if they've ever had Dorian? Now that could be a lot of fun!

The Fall

We have all heard the verse:

Pride goes before the fall

We have all seen that kind of fall. It's ugly and usually takes out a lot of people on the way down.

Or so I thought.

I often pray against pride. I'm not talking the kind of pride that makes you work hard, that inspires your integrity so you can be proud of the work you've done. I'm talking the kind of pride that begins a litany of accolades running through your mind. The kind that addicts you to affirmation and praise. The kind that fuels your self-worth. The kind that takes a God given opportunity and slowly replaces God with self.

I have seen the devastation caused by pride on a small scale and on a global scale. I would really like to avoid that kind of devastation so I pray consistently for humility and quick conviction during moments of pridefulness.

In a move of sheer brilliance on behalf of pride itself, I began to think I was pretty darn good at being humble. I would even place humility at the top of the list of my strong points. I would dare go as far as to say I was self-sacrificing.

And then yesterday I fell.

We had returned to the church we've been visiting with an almost certainty that it would become our new church home. I've been very interested to see how their women's ministry worked because that's where my heart is. The honor and privilege I have had to work on a ministry team in Houston can only be defined as an opportunity God gave me that I wisely said yes to. At least, that's the churchy answer. In reality, I took a lot more ownership of the success of that ministry than I should have or would have ever admitted to.

The result is that now I sit in a new church and fight feelings of insecurity because noone knows who I am. I wonder how long it will take until they will just let me be in charge of something to give me a chance to shine. I want to name drop and rattle off my church accomplishments stopping just shy of handing out a resume. I am consumed with all sorts of vain imaginations on how God is going to use me here in Singapore.

I fell off my high horse right smack onto the soil of reality. I won't be in charge of anything unless it is in God's will for me to be. I may not ever know a lot of people at that church. Name dropping is tacky. How much of me is totally committed to God's calling on my life no matter how big or small that may be? If noone knows me or pats me on the back for a job well done, but God is well pleased with my life, will I consider that a success?

The fall from a lofty position of self-worth to the reality that I am only as good as the totality in which I give myself over to God's will, can cause some bumps and bruises on the way down. I have a few bruises right now and will probably have more before I'm done falling. They hurt. They're ugly. They are a reminder that it's impossible to fall when you're already on your knees.

I am just thankful that my Savior provides me a soft spot to land.

Where we live

Welcome to The Claymore! We are on the 6th floor........high enough for a great view without making me feel like I'm going to vomit when I walk onto the balcony.

Before:

After:

Let me just clarify that this does not clearly represent the entire apartment. As much as I would like to say that everything is in it's perfect spot, that is absolutely not the truth. I can not lie.......I staged this picture. Behind the sofa, on the window ledge, are dozens of picture frames and books that have yet to find a home and behind me is a big pile of stuff I have no idea what to do with. It's the perfect pile for a spare bedroom, garage, attic, or even walk in closet but since we don't have any of those things I will be forced to deal with it.

And yes, those are white floors. And yes, those floors will be the bane of my existence.

Part of my kitchen. Behind me are floor to ceiling cabinets that are bright blue. It helps to distract from all the white on the walls and counter tops. White + 3 boys = an excercise in patience like nothing I've experienced before. Well, except for this:

This would be my "laundry room". It is outside from the main house and completely open with no air conditioning. I can look over that ledge and see the kids playing below.......or find the pair of underwear that flew out during a rainstorm. I lucked out and got an enourmous washer and dryer by Singapore standards since a normal washer and dryer here would hold one pair of pants and a sock.

What I have loved most about the last 4 weeks with no other kids and very little to no TV or XBox or Wii........it has forced the boys to rediscover each other and how much fun some of their toys are. In a lot of ways, I will miss this when life picks up its pace.

146 Hours.....but who's counting?

Tomorrow evening marks a week since we landed in Singapore. It honestly feels like a lifetime ago!

Our container arrived on Monday and the next 2 days were filled with the craziness of unpacking our stuff we hadn't seen since the end of May and trying to figure out how to make our house in Texas fit into our apartment in Singapore. The short story? It doesn't. One throwdown later between Scot and I in front of the poor movers and our kids........a bunch of tears, raised voices and some compromises and we were back to being ok. Our children were mildly tramatized and the movers got nowhere near me for a long time after that, but it was an air clearing we desperately needed to have.

A clingy and dependent girl had taken over my body somewhere between Houston and Singapore and it wasn't sitting well with me or my family. This morning I decided that it was time I got on my own. I put on my big girl pants and decided to just go for it. I needed to get out and figure out the bus system and stop apologizing to Wal Mart for all the nasty things I've said about it........I am goint to have to fall in love with the concept of going to 149 places to find what I need.

Today, I decided to venture out with the boys to a grocery store that promised to have cheaper prices than what I'd encountered thus far. Scot told me the bus number and gave me general directions and off we went to Fair Price Foods. I'm assuming by "fair" they meant I wouldn't audibly gasp every time I looked at the prices. We got to the bus stop and I had to chuckle remembering our first bus experience here in Singapore.

This past weekend we were on the hunt for a shower curtain rod, an item that continues to allude us. We had ridden multiple buses in Europe and typically you jump on the bus through whatever door you can when it stops or it will leave without you. This past weekend we carefully mapped out our route, bought our bus passes, and tried to keep the boys from getting run over in their anticipation of riding their first Singapore bus. Our bus finally arrived at the stop and the doors midway down the bus were closest to us. We politely waited for people to get off and then jumped on the bus. Somewhere between me and a kid, the doors started to close and I was frantically yelling at him:

"GET ON THE BUS NOW!!"

I was forcibly holding the doors open while a frantic child scrambled on. It was at this time that I notice the entire bus is silent except for a few stiffled giggles here and there and we heard the bus driver say:

"You must get on front of bus"

Oh! Ok, right. Guess that would explain why everyone else was lined up there instead of shoving themselves through closing doors........good times.

Needless to say, we followed all the rules today and got on the bus like civilized people who knew what they were doing. We made it to our stop and after walking all over the place looking for Fair Prices, we ended up asking a nice lady to directed us to the right spot. I was nervous walking up to the store remembering the experience I had 2 days ago when trying to shop.

Garrett and I were at the grocery store on the bottom floor of a local mall (that's a popular concept here). We walked up to the line of grocery carts and started pulling on one just to realize that they were all chained together. Ok, no big deal......this must be the line of extra carts. We'll just find the right ones and we'll be on our way. We walked over to the main entrance of the store and saw the carts. I was determined to not let this experience beat me so I triumphantly grabbed a cart and pulled. Nothing. Upon further examination I realized that it too was chained up. It was then that Garrett and I saw that it required a $1 deposit to unlock the cart so it could be used. We weren't going to let that stop us, though, so we just kept tugging for awhile. You know, just in case they were kidding or something.

I was so completely exasperated by the fact that they actually charge you money to use a cart in the store that I told Garrett to grab a hand held basket and follow me. We'd do what we could with that. Spaghetti and taco fixings, 4 apples, laundry detergent, and a sponge for the bargain price of $150 and we were out of there!

I was happy to see that using a cart was free at Fair Prices. Maybe that's what they mean by "fair"? It was a very authentic shopping experience, not a Cheezit or Oreo to be found anywhere. I did manage more than my past shopping experiences and found my way home with both children to I would call it a huge success!

There is no telling what is in store for us. I have to carefully go through my day not thinking too much about what we have left behind knowing it will paralyze me......it's still just too fresh.

I love adventure, I love adventure, I love adventure.

Now, if only I could find a darn curtain rod!

The View

The view from where I stood on a ridge above the wilderness was eye opening.

I have always thought of the wilderness as a place to be afraid of. A place that does not support life. A place where all hope is lost.

What I saw was beauty. Incredible and spell binding beauty that dispelled all my previous perceptions. It is the exact place God speaks of in Hosea 2 where He wanted to "entice" the nation of Israel to enter into so they would have to rely on Him for their provision. So they would no longer see Him as a master, but more intimately like a husband. Someone who loves and provides.....protects against that which is meant to harm.

From my view I promised that I would no longer be afraid of the wilderness, that I would enter into it knowing the intimacy I would experience with God. Knowing that when all the convenience and distraction of overabundance is gone, I will notice His provision more clearly.

The view from where I sat on the edge of the Sea of Galilee was pure.

The sun made the water appear to be in a dance with millions of diamonds. It was warm and inviting and I watched as both boys rushed right into the water anxious for relief from incredible heat.

I was drawn back to a time when the water was not so calm and inviting. When on that exact body of water a storm unleashed its fury and in the midst Jesus walked on the water. He invited his disciple to have enough faith, despite the storm, to walk with him too. That disciple climbed out of the boat and took one, two, maybe three steps before becoming distracted by the impossibility of his actions. He fell, only to be rescued once again by the One who invited him out on the water.

From my view, I prayed for those two boys playing in those waters. I prayed that they too would have that kind of faith. The kind that gets you out of the boat. The kind that believes wholeheartedly in their Savior. The kind that gives you the assurance that when your eyes lie to you about the absurdity of your faith and you fall, you know you will be picked up once again.

The view from the rock overlooking the valley where the battle between David and Goliath took place was inspiring.

I listened as the words from a very familiar story were spoken. I looked at the hills and valleys spoken of in the story, that were only figments of my imagination, and could almost see the characters come to life.

From my view, I prayed that no giant ever be too big that I feel I can't be victorious. I prayed that no matter what obstacle or difficulty I might face, I would know my God was bigger. That he could use a simple girl like me to defeat an impossible foe.

The view from the waters of the Dead Sea was confusing.

Its appearance was beautiful. Its appearance looked refreshing. Its reputation promised an experience unlike any other. Its reality was that it was uncomfortable. It was too hot, its rocky shoreline made your footing unsteady, and its water stung.

From my view I prayed that my life would never imitate the Dead Sea. That my life appear refreshing or beautiful only to have someone test the waters and find it to be an illusion. I prayed against the hypocrisy of appearing to be one thing when reality was something different all together.......something that stings.

The view from where I stood at the wailing wall was humbling.

The place where so many stood to be as close to the original temple where the Spirit of God dwelled. A place that held the hopes, dreams, and fears of so many in its crevices. A place that has seen more than its share of tears. A place where a soldier, who is prepared at any moment to fight for what he feels is right, stands just as a man looking for an answered prayer.

I stood at this place and knew I was no closer to God here than I was anywhere else. But it was the symbolism, much like visiting ancient cathedrals, the symbolism of people wanting to know they are heard by someone bigger than they are. The draw of the promise that maybe that wall or that church may be where they can find God.

This place made me wonder if I haven't lost some of my fervency to seek God. To seek a God that requires me to go no further than my knees to find Him.

It's funny, the way we view things. We look and observe and judge based simply on what our eyes can see. We draw conclusions related to past experiences or form opinions around what others tell us.

I'm exceedingly grateful that I know a God whose view isn't finite. That He sees beyond our observations and our judgements to what is true.

The view God has of us is love. The view God has of us is true. The view God has of us is right.