RheAnn in Japan

Christmas Past

This is my 30th Christmas.  It is the first I've spent away from my family (except for 1992 when I had the flu and Dad and I stayed in Millington, Tennessee, watching a "Saved by the Bell" marathon and, of course, It's a Wonderful Life--back when they played it on every channel--while the rest of our kin gathered in Illinois.)
Being on a completely different continent is more limiting than simply being sick (even though it seemed like the end of the WORLD when I was 12!) ;)  Still, it's Christmas...whether my family and I are together or not, and that is a wonderful point on which to reflect.
It appears that folks back home or enjoying, dreading, or tolerating all kinds of wintry weather, while here in Japan, I often go without a coat!  ...Granted, I could wear a coat, but I'm a bit stubborn.  I hate to feel hot on the heated, crowded trains, so sometimes I refuse to wear or tote a coat.  Later, I may wish I had the coat as I shuffle home at night, but I try to stand by my decision. ;)  It really has become a daily choice of: "Do I want to be uncomfortable now or later?"  ...I'll probably wear a coat today.  It's in the low 50's, but it's humid here, so it feels a bit colder.  Christmas time has always meant snow and gloves and hot apple cider.  (Note: "Cider" in Japan means "soda" or "carbonation."  Interesting, no?)  So...even the weather is different than I'm used to.
And...usually around Christmas, all the loose ends of school and work have been tied, and I get to focus on finding and wrapping the PERFECT gifts for my loved ones--something I enjoy more than I care to say. :)  This year, I am busier now than I have been since I arrived here over eight months ago!  My head is spinning and I hardly have time to sleep, let alone shop!  Oh, and shopping is not fun to me here.  It's overwhelming.  I don't really know where to go to find what I need, what shops sell what kinds of things, or even where to get supplies to MAKE gifts.  In the past, I've often found the best gifts just by wandering through a store, but here...I don't even know where to commence a meandering!  [Aside: My friend Seiji mapped out an afternoon of shopping for me last week and we visited several antique stores that he knew.  That was perhaps one of the most helpful things anyone has ever done for me.  (He also carried all my bags because the stores are SO small...and I am so clumsy!)] :)
And...once I've found the gifts, I have to keep my fingers crossed that they weigh less than 16 oz.  The US recently altered their policies and are not accepting packages from Japan (and elsewhere?) that exceed that weight.  So, then I've got to deal with logistics...which is SO not as much fun as making my own wrapping paper and heartfelt cards.  So...even the gift-giving feels different.
For the first time, I don't have a Christmas tree...or even lights.  Any who know me know that in the past, I've rocked some pretty good trees. :)  Instead, I have a lot of mess left from all the projects I'm working on strewn throughout my apartment.  Yes...this too is different.

18 People attended the "Make Your Christmas Red & GREEN!" event at Ichikawa's new church.  (Supplies were donated from some of the most generous CP's I know.  Thanks, y'all!)

The projects are great and the work is so, SO meaningful.  (More on that later!) :) And when I really allow myself to, I can remember what Christmas is really about in a way that I've never before experienced.
Recently, my life intertwined with that of a remarkable young woman.  Her marriage is in turmoil and she is feeling alone and uncertain of what to do in order to ensure safety, health, and happiness for her and her baby daughter.  I'm not sure I've ever met a more gracious and forgiving person.  Certainly, I find inspiration in her strength...even more than I feel drawn to help and support her.  She's become a symbol of my "new" Christmas, in fact.  She is following the light of a star and shining just as brightly in a very dark time.  Instead of speaking ill of her husband, she asks, "Why has God given me such a husband and what am I to learn and understand from this?"  I do not know the answer to her question, but from HER, I have learned so much about compassion and accountability...and FAITH.  She, like Mary riding into Bethlehem, moves through the fear, disappointment, and discomfort of her life, trusting that she and her baby will be cared for, protected, and delivered to a life of peace and harmony.
If I could package those things, I would give them to her...with a handmade bow.
I would give them to all of us.
Even amidst our blessings and even during this season of celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ and all the traditions this time brings, many of us are hurting somehow. 
I'm faraway from Christmas-as-I've-always-known-it, but I'm discovering Christmas-as-it's-meant-to-be!  No box under any tree is as great a gift as the love, forgiveness, compassion, and peace of Jesus.  May we offer that to one another this Christmas...and always.

My students at Ebina, after an action-packed class. Each week they remind me of the good in me and the good in the WORLD.

(I'm so sorry!  I began writing this on 10/28/2010 and am finishing it now 12/2/2010!)

I sat for a few hours last night, staring at this screen trying to write something...because it felt like time.  Even though I have a lot going on, nothing seemed to jump from my brain to my fingers, from my fingers to the keys.  So... What changed between then and now?  Only everything.  Only nothing at all.
I've been thinking lately of trying my hand at writing (and illustrating?) children's books.  I already have two stories in mind.  I'm thinking they share a main character, so maybe they become a series...like Amelia Bedelia, only more compassionate.  I imagine her to be a young woman living in Japan, and she'll have all of my quirky qualities (humble solitary living, vegetarianism, outspokenness, love of animals and art and storytelling, and various eccentricities), only she'll be Japanese!  In one story she'll proclaim her intention to never kill another living thing--no matter how big or small-- and will subsequently encounter all kinds of critters (slugs, roaches, spiders, lizards, gnats, bees, moths, snakes, toads, and mice) who mysteriously make their way into her home and force her to put her theory to the test.  I suspect she'll face her fears and cultivate a new kind of caring.  In the other story, she will befriend the neighborhood gang of stray cats.  Signs are posted all through town, urging people not to feed the cats, but our protagonist will pay no mind.  Though she's rather poor, she will share what little she has with her furry friends, and in return they will find ways to enrich her life: Collecting seeds in their fur then bathing in her yard and "planting" a surprise garden, bringing her ribbons and scraps for her to use in her artwork, and things like that...While simultaneously wreaking havoc in the life of the curmudgeon down the street, of course.  ;)
Yes, these are the things I think about when I'm walking around Japan.  Homesickness has had its way with me a time or two and I feel really different sometimes; really alone.  But the impact of this loneliness is not bad at all.  I'm inspired by it!  It deepens my understanding of others who feel misunderstood or as an outsider somehow.
When I really relax into my life here and remember that I was LED here; when I stop worrying about fitting in or feeling scrutinized, I find things tend to flow with great ease, and work out just as they should.
For example (and this is just one of MANY! ...I wish I'd been writing these down!), on Tuesday I was so excited to teach my children's class at Ebina.  The 3rd of 3 classes each month is always an art class and in preparation for Halloween and to coincide with their recent study of English names for body parts and clothing, I planned to oversee the construction of a life-sized SCARECROW!  My partner/friend Saida assumed responsibility for obtaining men's clothing for this project and I set about collecting all the other supplies.  When Tuesday rolled around, I had everything we needed...except stuffing.  I'd asked around and hunted, but hadn't been able to locate any hay or assemble enough old paper for this task!  After my Japanese language class, I was FRANTIC to find some kind of stuffing before my class started 3 hours later.  No luck, so I got on the train toward the church--racing through the neighborhood in my mind; mapping out where I would look and shops I would visit along the way.  Between the station and the church, I scanned alley ways and trash bins and stopped by a market and asked a butcher for old paper. (I explained my situation by acting things out and sputtering broken Japanese, "kakashi"..."kami"..."naka"..."doko"..."desu-ka?") Haha! ...He took me to the toilet paper aisle. ;)
I hurried out of the market, and that's when I did something I seldom if ever do...I tossed out an, "I need some help here, God" prayer.  "Do your thing," I plead with a chuckle.  Rounding the corner, with only a minute's more of walking to the church, I saw a delivery truck.  The driver was standing behind it and the back panel was open.  The man moved one of the green plastic crates, checked something in his notebook, then removed a wad of old newspaper and set it aside.  "Are you serious?" I said softly but aloud.  I approached the man and repeated my baby-talk and charades routine from the market.  At first he handed me a thin stack of advertisements for his company--which appeared to be delivering some type of locally produced food item.  His smile was so big that I almost issued an obligatory "Arigatou gozaimasu," and shuffled off with this useless stack of fliers, but I had seen some paper here and I had prayed to find some, so should I really give up my quest because of language limitations?  No!  I decided to give it one last shot, even though it was exactly 4:00, time to begin the class.  Suddenly, light bulbs!  "Ah, sousousousou..." he said, and passed me a HUGE pile of old newspaper.  I thanked him rapidly and emphatically and hurried to my class with the treasure!
My students and I enjoyed making the scarecrow (whom they later named by adding a syllable from each of their own names.) I was able to teach them verbs like "roll," "squeeze," "crunch," and "push" in addition to reviewing body parts and clothes.  It was really fun!

Masamotayu the Scarecrow

And just as with the scarecrow guts, I'm finding that most things happen in their own perfect time.  It's important to notice that...and to try to allow for it, instead of trying so hard to have everything go by some rigid, arbitrary, convenient plan.
I mean, would it have been easier and more preferable that Jason Baldwin, my best friend in the world, had not been wrongfully convicted and forced to spend the last 17 years in prison for a crime he did not commit??  SURE!  But that actually happened, and along the way--despite these unthinkable circumstances--this amazing young man has grown and changed and learned...and in turn, has helped and inspired and taught a LOT of people, myself included!!!  In fact, it would be hard to think of someone outside my family who has influenced my life more than he.  I can concede that a life of freedom would have been desirable.  He certainly deserved that.  However, I am reluctant to say I wish that had happened.  I would not want to take away from the strength of this man (and the two convicted alongside him) or the impact his life has had on so many who may not otherwise have known him.  But I also don't intend to downplay my JOY that the Arkansas Supreme Court has ruled that my loving and courageous friend will soon receive a new hearing and ultimately (I believe) a new trial!!! Justice is waiting like a delivery truck full of old paper and shining like a Christmas tree star.
Imagine having a prayer for 17 years----WELL over half my life----and awaking one day to see it being answered at last!!  Wow!?!!  My family and I, as I'm sure Jason and his family and the families and supporters of the other two innocent men, are beside ourselves with joy! :)  I almost don't even know what to do with this much joy! :)  There is this hasty, nagging feeling that tags along with this good news: "I'm ready for it to happen NOW!" but I soothe and abate that by remembering God has a way of unfolding our stories in ways that are deeper, more meaningful, and more gratifying than our tiny, impatient brains could ever imagine.
I can wait, joyfully.

My best friend Jason: Our love has traipsed a rugged terrain, and only God knows where we'll go from here :)

Thanksgiving, 2010
Creator God, we offer you our prayer of Thanksgiving—here and now. We pause amidst the mundane and the unusual in each of our lives to recognize our interconnectedness.


God, we know everything changes--sometimes so slowly, we hardly notice it or have grown used to it like the tide; sometimes suddenly, violently and other times after great planning. We are grateful to still be amazed by autumn leaves and sunsets, even though sometimes we get so busy, we don’t take the time to see.

But for the times we feel the power of uncertainty or the pull of something yet to be, we give thanks—thanks that we may follow and respond; thanks that we can feel the sorrow and enthusiasm of leaving something behind, losing something we treasure, or leaping toward the next time and place with wonder and gratitude.

And for the places we land and the homes we make and the love we feel, we give thanks—thanks that each day gives us the opportunity to discover new and ancient ways of expressing tenderness and compassion; thanks that there is comfort in the smallest of smiles and the warmest of blankets; thanks that “alone” doesn’t always have to feel bad.

And for truth’s inexhaustible capacity to become known in time, we give thanks—thanks that there is always something to hope for; thanks that nothing can remain hidden forever; thanks that our hearts and minds can be opened and reopened; thanks that authentic dialogue can occur even without shared language; thanks that knowledge and healing are possible.

Thank you for all we learn and know and remember and forget. Thank you for illuminating our similarities and our differences. Thank you for giving us courage to be as we believe.

May we be guided toward balanced living and never judge the extent to which we are blessed by that to which others suffer.

Surround the people of Earth that, even if for but one shared breath, we all know peace.

Use us to make the changes that will ensure peace. With thanksgiving, we lovingly place ourselves at your will—here and now.

Always.

Amen.

Thanksgiving away from "home"...

There's just something about orange juice! Mmmm... When you haven't had it in a very long time, suddenly orange juice is amazing! It overwhelms your mouth with sour and sweet and texture and consistency. You FEEL and taste orange juice. And when it's freshly squeezed? Forget about it! You practically have to CHEW the juice. It's so tasty, and you think, "How have I forgotten how much I LOVE orange juice??" ...So maybe you buy some to keep in your fridge at home. Now you can have it whenever you want. (The OJ glasses in restaurants are always so small, anyways. You can drink as much of the stuff as you want at your house.) ...But drinking orange juice every day...you aren't as amazed by it. Now it's just part of the meal; part of your day; hohum...yawn. And if you drink too much, well, you're in for a tummy ache on account of all that citric acid. Then if the OJ gives you a tummy ache, suddenly you don't like it as much anymore, so you don't buy another carton for a while, and you certainly don't order an overpriced, undersized glass of it at brunch! Weeks and even months go by, and then one day you revisit your old friend orange juice and ah! It comes alive on your tongue and you feel like you've been depriving yourself of something so simple; so GOOD!!
(Yes. There's a metaphor coming.)
Last week I got a taste of something I didn't pour. The universe handed me a very unexpected dose of tears, hurt, and confusion, through the sudden death of my close friend, Gwen Ramat, who (like me) was only 30 years old. She, a wise and witty woman, collided with a semi-truck when she lost control of her vehicle while texting behind the wheel. Many things happened within me as I strove to respond to this loss. I walked around like the Ghost of RheAnn for a few days. There was the very real sense of being invisible even in a crowd, so I embraced that and cried in public if I needed to. I worried about my friends back home and wished I could be with them during this difficult time. I berated myself for getting too busy and not keeping in good touch with Gwen, despite having thought of her each day for three days leading up to her accident. Outside it just kept raining and I wondered at the cinematic coincidence of weather perfectly suited to my heartbreak.
But something else was going on too. I couldn't name it. I was having some anxiety...beyond the wanting to be near my friends to grieve and beyond the realization that people I love will die while I am so far away... Impermanence. That's what it came down to. At the core of all my crying, was the reality of impermance. To deal with my grief and begin to move forward, I had to acknowledge its pain and beauty. Friends and pets and family members and heroes and celebrities and strangers and neighbors all die. I will die. Once I'd swept my brain around this idea, I felt comforted. (I hope I can explain why.) Here's what I did. ...I wrote a letter to my family outlining my thoughts about my own life and death. Some may think this very morbid. Others may think it very irresponsible that I didn't do this sooner--coming overseas all alone, after all. Regardless, it seemed important, and after I'd written it, I felt the sunshine returning inside me!
I won't chirp on and on and pretend that death is great, but I do wholeheartedly feel that death is beautiful somehow...maybe because it's inevitable?...Maybe because GRIEF can be so powerful in the way it connects us at the deepest levels?  I don't know.  I only know that worrying about it feels awful.  I only know that wishing it didn't happen is fruitless.  I only know that accepting it was the only thing that helped me to make sense of Gwen's sudden and tragic death and the emotional aftermath it triggered.
There are a thousand and 2 cliches about life and death and about not letting a single second go to waste.  Sometimes these seem trite or even meaningless.  ...Who really likes to be reminded to "get your ducks in a row" or "live like you're dying"??  But...I think there ARE so many platitudes related to life and death and embracing life (and death) because this is something we humans learn and forget time and time again.  We are confronted with loss or our own mortality and we spend days, weeks, or months rearranging our hearts and minds around the experience...only to somehow settle back in and "forget" what we learned.  There are so many cliches because the cliches and the lessons they represent are real and widely-experienced.  To pretend it doesn't or won't happen is not merely to deny death, I think, but also to deny those who HAVE died and to deny a part of life that can actually bring depth to our relationships and expansiveness to our experiences.
How many times have we caught ourselves in the throes of grief, wishing we'd said or done something differently?  And why didn't we?  And why DON'T we?
I think we are afraid.  (Afraid of...::fill in the blank:: ...as long as the blank ends up synonymous with "being uncomfortable.")

MLK, Jr. weekend '08: Gwen, Katrina, &  I got up before the sun to go SNOWBOARDING!

The week that began with Gwen's death, ended with the fourteenth anniversary of my father's death.  I have very vivid memories of his last days, but--sadly--so few others from my 16 years with him.  Adult-Me has so many questions for him, though...  Each year, I try in some unique way to honor him on October 1st; to feel close to him, if I can.  This year, my friend Tii joined me and we cooked a DELICIOUS meal--"breakfast for dinner," one of my dad's favorites. :)  I didn't cry or feel I needed to cry, but I did feel pain.  I felt pain for myself and what I lost that night 14 years ago...and I felt pain for all of us who just lost our close friend Gwen a few DAYS ago!  It hurt all over, but to laugh and eat with someone I love, felt like "wholeness" in the face of utter brokenness.

Breakfast for Dinner: Gluten-free coconut milk pancakes, lemon-garlic peppers with walnuts, egg-tomato-tamari scramble, sweet potato hash browns with wasabi mustard, tangy cinnamon fruit salad, and orange-pineapple mimosas!!!

Maybe this isn't how "Christians" are "supposed" to talk about things or THINK about things according to whoever determines that.  Ha!  I don't know!  I only know that, for me, the idea of an "after life" is not very comforting when I'm in pain from LOSS.  Maybe I'm selfish that way.  I guess that's why the real comfort for me comes from    just    letting    go.  Wanting my daddy back IS selfish.  His life here was not easy, at all.  To rest from that is a BLESSING!  And Gwen too!  My God, how she struggled!!  Who am I to want my friend to go on living with such suffering just so I can hear her laughter in times of joy?  I have to let go.
And I have to let go of plans that I make for my own life too.  I can't guarantee my future.  I can have hopes and dreams that I hold onto loosely as I move through the here and now---reaching out to others and letting others love me...here...now.  But to resist change or to be blinded to those around me because of focus on my own path, won't work for me anymore (if it ever did.)
I want to drink in every day like a fresh squeezed glass of orange juice, letting the newness tingle my tastebuds and shine in a way that lets darkness stay dark, but makes the lightness brighter.  I want to appreciate every smile and every tear.

JOY! One of my volunteers during Storytelling at Kibogaoka. (I love his smile.)

This song says exactly what I want to say.  I hope you will be as inspired by it as I am. (I'm sorry for the video.  I couldn't find this song ANYWHERE else!  ...Just listen to the words.)

(midnight-ish) September 24, 2010--
Tonight it's raining.  It's rained all day, actually.  The air is so cool and the city seems like a sleepy baby--past the point of fussy, nodding off toward peaceful slumber.

The full moon at dusk a couple nights ago

 
Today marked the first day of fall.  I wonder if there was ever a woman happier to welcome the end of summer as I am.  I am.  I sooooooooooooo am!  The black hole that was August seems far behind me now and I am happily moving through my days--in good health and with great enthusiasm.  I really have so much to which to look forward and I currently have so many wonderful things going on!!  I hardly know where to start!! ...But I also can't wait to pile all of my happy thoughts into one place, so here goes!! :)

GOOD NEWS: 

• I love my tutor!!!  I've been meeting once a week for two weeks now with a language helper/tutor.  Her home is not near mine, but the train rides are pleasant and the assistance is certainly worth it.  I see so many butterflies in the neighborhood as I walk from the station to her house and back.  Last week, three different types brushed against my arms during my journey.  ...It's a special time and place, I feel.  I also notice that the timing and pace of my lessons are really perfect.  I'm free from the stress I felt from getting so far behind in language school, AND we are focusing on bits of Japanese language that are most useful for ME, rather than merely abiding by a prescribed curriculum.  It's very good for me.  :)
• I love teaching!!!  Now that I'm not in school each morning, I have so much more time and energy to think about and prepare formy classes!  I am amazed how much more I enjoy my job when it doesn't come on the heels of a mentally exhaustive morning of language-learning.  I am really discovering my own style as a teacher, and I like what I'm seeing so far.  My students are incredible!  I love the questions they ask and the things they teach me!!

During my Friday "Japanese Culture in English" class, one student demonstrated the tea-making and -drinking portion of the traditional tea ceremony! :)

• I love my friends!!!  I knew I needed some, and I've been making many since arriving here. Visiting churches, I met so many great people.  The physical distance between us and the busy-ness of our schedules made socializing difficult, though.  Being alone for so many daaaaaaaaaaaaays in August, I suddenly realized that I need friends outside of "work."  Once I accepted this, it seems really good friends just APPEARED in my life.  I attended a very special New Year's party with some friends from Ethiopia and met many new friends there, and have used each Saturday since to relax and enjoy time with them.  ...I think this was key to making Japan my home. I really needed these friends. :)

With the Ethiopian ambassador and friends at the Ethiopian New Year Party in Akasaka

With my new girl-friend Tii at an international picnic with another friend Hideki (not pictured)

• I love art!!!  In addition to my ongoing pottery studies, (I return to Kunitachi for class tomorrow!) I've also begun to incorporate my love of art into other areas of my life and work.  I am flooded with ideas for a new photo project with a photographer friend of mine and just need to make time for a painting I'm working on for my home.  I also want to buy a video camera and start making mini-movies to share with all of my family and supporters back in the States.  I've already been using SOME art in teaching, since I make all my own handouts and visual aids and often have to teach through "Pictionary" when verbal language comprehension fails.  I also taught an art class to children one day while I was still sick. We made "sculptures."  It went very well and that's something I'm sure I'll do again some time.  My NEW idea, though, is to host an Open House/Craft Workshop at one of our churches here.  Ichikawa will move into a new church building in December, and it is my hope that we can invite people from the neighorhood to learn how to make Christmas decorations for their homes!  (Many people enjoy decorating for this holiday, even though they don't celebrate it in a Christian context.)  I want to teach them how to make wreaths and ornaments...but I don't really know how!! :)  So, send me some ideas, won't you?  My e-mail is rheann.in.japan@gmail.com  I think this will be FUN!  (Some CPWM groups mentioned they'd like to help by sending patterns and supplies for a project like this.  If you or your group would like to contribute, please contact me with your ideas before sending things, so I don't end up with too much of one thing and not enough of another...You know, small apartment and all.) :)
• I love storytelling!!!  As long as I can remember, I've loved telling (and even REtelling) stories of all kinds--stories I've heard, stories I've read, stories I've lived... I use this gift in teaching ALL the time--both as a means of explaining something and as an exercise in improving listening skills.  While I was sick, another of my bright ideas was to start a children's story time by familiarizing myself with the most popular children's stories in Japan and performing them in English at one or more of our churches.  I was beyond excited about this possibility but was quickly sobered when I presented it to the church leader and found it to be a hard sell. ..Turns out, there was a misunderstanding because there is not such a thing as "story time" in Japan. Finally, the group of adults said, "Can you just SHOW us what you mean?" so--on the spot--I decided to go with "The 3 Little Pigs."  I used a lot of voices and faces and looked at each person as I spoke.  They turned into little kids right before my eyes!!
  

  Kids and "big kids" play a silly game during open church at Den-en last week

  It was hilarious!  “Oh, NOW we understand!  We Japanese don’t do like that,” they told me and laughed.  Then they became as excited as I had been and we began to make plans.  The maiden Story Time will take place the first weekend in December.  Between now and then, I’ll be meeting with the children at Kibogaoka Church during church school and using songs and/or storytelling to correspond with their lessons.  I will also be learning about the stories and practicing them constantly.  If this event is a success, I hope to travel with this “act” a little bit.
• 
  
  I love dinner parties!!! Last night I accepted an invitation to a birthday dinner at a church member’s house.  There were 10 of us in attendance, and four had birthdays this month!  Two of the guests were Americans who live and work on the Zama military base—he as a chaplain and she as a teacher.  The food was deliciously tailored to my dietary needs which made me happier than words can express, and the conversation spanned more fascinating topics than I can name!!  I can assure you, however, it is a night I will never forget!  We talked about history and politics and religion and traveling…and then I began telling the group about the upcoming Story Time.  I mentioned that I told the story of “The 3 Little Pigs” since it is one I know well and had been using with my English classes here.  I said to the 2 Americans, “Sometimes there are words you just can’t explain when asked, you know?  Like, WHY do the little pigs say ‘Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin?’ What does that phrase even MEAN?”  By this point, 2 Japanese men at the table were laughing themselves to tears.  After much coaxing they finally revealed to us the cause of their laughter.  Apparently… “chin chin” in Japanese crudely refers to a certain part of the male anatomy!!!  Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah, you KNOW my face was as red as my shirt as I recalled how enthusiastically I’d been announcing this statement to Japanese women and children and church leaders over the past weeks!!!  ::BLUSH::  Anyway, it was a delightful evening, nonetheless!  I hope to have my own dinner party here next weekend, as it will be 14 years since my dad died this October 1^st.  Also, October 1^st here is September 30^th back home, and on that day my best friend in the whole world, Jason Baldwin, has a glimmer of hope for freedom after 17 years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.  I look forward to telling THAT story some day…  And I pray for a happy ending.

Pausing to reflect: One of my early solo wanderings in Japan

September 7, 2010—Tomorrow will mark five months that I’ve been in Japan!!!! Is it odd to say that even with all the illness and confusion that this time has really flown by?? …Because it really has! It is strange to think that it was five months ago that I stood in a triangular and tear-soaked hug with my mom and sister in the St. Louis airport feeling absolutely unready to be where I am now.

Triangle of Love: My sister, me, and my mom at my commissioning service at Brenthaven (My good friend gave me her kimono, but no one knew how to tie the obi and it kept falling off! HaHA!)

Two Girls On the Open Road...with Lollipops!: Zoe and I drove all night and laughed the whole way (even in Kansas.) ;)

And I spent five AMAZING weeks in a training program for missionaries, that provided me not only with top-notch language learning and cultural adaptation skills, but also with friends in my field who are now missionaries ALL OVER THE WORLD! It’s a beautiful and meaningful network!

"The Family": We share a very sacred bond...

The MTI GIRLS:  These beautiful ladies and I spent two weeks together learning how to learn...and loving every minute!

I also had time over the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays to be with my family and friends to celebrate these occasions together for the last time for at least three years.

Home for the Holidays: With my Uncle Andy at New Year's

An on-again-off-again-turned-long-distance relationship of over two years ended unexpectedly in December and blossomed into one of my healthiest and most valuable friendships AND completely freed me to bring my whole self to my life and work in Japan! (VERY synchronistic!) :)

Yesterdays and Used-to-be's: Back in snowy Boulder, back in the day, with my dear friend Michael

I spent the early part of this year travelling around my country seeing familiar faces and places, but also meeting new people and going places I’d never been. In more ways than one, this was a VITAL part of my journey. I simultaneously managed to have meaningful goodbyes with my loved ones AND to intertwine myself into a community of faith.

Small Town Girl: Morgan was in The Youth ROCKS! youth group of which I was the leader for 4 years. Now she's a student at Bethel University!

Hometown Girls: Ethiopian dinner with some of my best friends from high school-- Karen, Jamie, and Bryan (not pictured)

New Girls: I visited Milan CP Church and met these amaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing youth! (We're connected for life.) :)

Heart Hug: This is my dad's younger brother and my beloved uncle, Dan, at my early birthday/going-away celebration!

And in arriving here five months ago, I adjusted quite naturally to being led from place to place and introduced to hundreds of people. :) It has been difficult at times—studying the language, finding allergy-friendly VEGETARIAN foods, picking up on and understanding cultural differences, finding the right doctors, establishing routines and relationships, and being far away from my mom, my siblings, my friends, and my niece and nephews (!!!)—but overall, I just like my life. …Yeah. I really do! :)

The Boys Who Have My Heart: My bestestest friend Cliff with my sooooooooooo cute nephews--Karson and Creson

Bumpers!: We may not be the best bowlers, but we're the best of friends! :) (My niece Abbi and I had an entire day of fun together.)

Tonight as I was walking home after teaching my children’s English class at Ebina Zion Hill Church and eating dinner alone at Big Boy in Seya… (Yes. You read that right: Big Boy. They have a lovely salad bar!) :)…I started thinking about just that—my life…and why I like it so much. …Here’s my theory. If I had studied education in school, I’m not sure I would enjoy teaching as much as I do now. …It’s just my personality, really. I love teaching, because I’m discovering HOW to do it and that I’m GOOD at doing it AS I do it!! Haha!! It’s true! I’m drawing upon some unknown arsenal of tools, techniques, information, energy, and ability! I don’t have notes or handouts! I don’t have pre-made lessons! I’m just doing this!! It’s part acting and part improvisation, teaching…for ME anyway. I find what the needs are and look within to find a way to meet those needs. Each class and each student is so different, so I have to manifest a means of teaching them all, in the way(s) they learn best. Sometimes it doesn’t work, and I can FEEL it…so I come at it from a different way until we find the right path. It’s fun and exciting! It feels AMAZING when it “works” and the students begin to understand. I really, really enjoy it! (I really think that if someone taught me how to teach, I’d get lost in the “right” and “wrong” of it, and miss out on this amazing voyage of discovery!)

With mostly everything I do, I find I like it more when I approach it from a place of curiosity or uncertainty. I like the newness of things. If I understood Japanese better, I probably wouldn’t enjoy learning pottery as much. If I thought I could get by just speaking English, I probably wouldn’t like studying Japanese. If I didn’t make up games to entice myself up the big hills of my neighborhood, I’d probably trudge along and meet each hill with dread. If I didn’t move my furniture around in my apartment, I’d probably start to feel too settled. If I was afraid of not being accepted or not being able to communicate, I probably wouldn’t be having so much FUN making friends!

Ready, Aim, SMILE!: At the Tanabata Festival with Anna

Indeed, finding the newness makes even the ordinary extraordinary. So, I say: Go ahead! Walk around in the new! :)

"Come On Shake Your Body, Baby...": Performers in the 5 hour Samba Carnival parade in Asakusa.

In my "electric youth," I was a HUGE fan of popstar Debbie Gibson.  I had both of her hit albums (on cassette, of course) and I listened to them on repeat (before repeat even existed.) ;)  I recently listened to one of her songs on YouTube, and discovered that despite having not heard it in nearly two DECADES now...I still remember every word.  Funny things, brains. ;)

As I've mentioned in previous blogs, I've encountered a few snags of late--primarily with my health, but ultimately with my sense of self and my emotional well-being.  This is another way that brains are funny.  I mean, I am surrounded (in a nearby sense and in a far-reaching sense) by people who love and care for me and want the very best for me.  I think I'm the only one who worries that I'm not doing a good enough job; or that I'm not living up to the expectations others have of me.  I'll tell ya, this kind of worry can be debilitating!  And it snowballs!!!! :(

Desolation: This was taken last weekend,  in the creepiest subway station EVER--heading home after one of the best *days* ever!!

My home church Brenthaven sent a pretty amazing care package recently, and one thing I immediately claimed from the box is a cute little picture frame in the shape of a Saint Bernard clumsily and crookedly holding up a photo.  I put a picture of my mother's parents in it and placed it on top of the TV that's been unplugged since May.  When I write or read, I am always on the sofa next to this TV.  Lately, I've even been SLEEPING in here, on account of all the tiny spiders that come in through my bedroom window.  (We need not revisit my issues of arachnophobia, right?)  ::shivers::  ...Anyway, I see that photo every day.  My grandparents were wonderful people--generous, often tender, and always setting a good example.  I miss the way my grandma smelled and the way she'd leave my head lying in her lap for hours as she play with my hair.  (Nobody plays with hair like my grandma.) :)  And I miss my grandpa, who softened during my lifetime from a gruff and sometimes impatient old man to a warm-hearted marshmallow who could barely make it through a prayer without crying.  I remember clearly, when I was 21, a conversation I had with him.  I was packing up the car to go back to Nashville and he had me sit beside him on the couch.  He pulled a check from his pocket...but before he gave it to me, he said (through tears), "Ever since you were born, I've known you were special.  You are meant to do something wonderful.  God has healed you, now don't waste it," and gave me the $100 (a huge gift by our family's standards.)  My car ride home was a bit surreal after this exchange.  ...What did he meeeeean?  This question still haunts me.

The birth of wonder: Baby me, makin' faces with Mom, circa 1981

When I sit in my apartment feeling sick or stressed, it crosses my mind that...I may be or may HAVE "wasted it."  Where is the special?  Where is the wonderful?  I start asking questions like these and then I start to doubt myself...

There's a game I learned as an orientation leader at Naropa University, wherein one partner asks the other "Who are you?" ten or more times, requiring the responding partner to dig deeper and deeper to find different, genuine answers to that question.  Feeling a bit lost and overwhelmed lately, I decided to play this game with myself while walking the hills of my neighborhood toward the station.  ...I couldn't get past the first round.  Being out of class and on break from teaching and alone because of illness, I lost my sense of purpose.  ...So, who am I?  I'm one who THRIVES on interaction with other people.  To some degree (for better or worse) I rather define myself by the relationships I'm able to cultivate and the synchronicity with which remarkable people come into my life.  I'm an extrovert who definitely requires some alone time, but becomes depleted by excessive time alone.  I'm fearless AND anxious.  I'm quick to forgive BUT hard on myself.  I'm a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a writer, an actress, an American, a fatherless woman, a teacher, a missionary, a person driven by optimism, empathy, compassion, and humor.  ...I'm kinda wacky.  Sometimes I'm grumpy.  Sometimes I think things that don't make sense. Sometimes I laugh out loud for 15 or more minutes...with no one else around.  I've seen and done a lot of things.  I've known and forgotten a lot of things.  ...There are a lot of things I can't forget.

So here I am...in Japan...without my usual surroundings.  Even speaking to my mother requires copious scheduling.  I'm noticing my continuous blessings and trying to reconnect with myself and with other people and with that feeling you get that can only be God.  ...When Debbie Gibson outgrew the "teenybopper"scene, she tried to reinvent herself as "Deborah Gibson."  All of her music, movies, and television appearances list her only as "Deborah Gibson," as though this "Debbie" never existed.  DEBORAH is more mature and experienced.  DEBBIE is a child, a phase meant to be left behind.

If the time has come, I'd say I've entered a cocoon phase.  Maybe soon, I'll slash it open and emerge as a different, stronger, more inspiring version of myself.  Maybe the RheAnn I know will become more RheAnn-ish and spread her RheAnn wings.  I don't know what wonderful thing I'm meant to do...or if I've done it...or if it's SINGULAR!  Maybe there's a million wonderful things awaiting!!  I don't know what to do or how to do it, but I feel on the verge of making a pretty huge leap.   ...And I don't think I need to change my name or pose for Playboy to do it.  (Oh, little Debbie, little Debbie!) ;)

Wacky indeed: Me, behind a pillow face at the Monchichi Gallery in Asakusa

I'm ready to see what I'm to become..

I have an interesting relationship with tea. (It's a long, sad story, actually. If you ask me, I'll tell ya some time.)
In moving to Japan, one thing I was most excited about…was tea! Maybe that sounds trite, but it's TRUE! Western marketing had informed me that tea is a big deal over here…and not just in the ceremonial sense, which I also knew to be true. Packages of organic or flavored teas on the Whole Foods shelves often offered assemblages of calligraphy, symbols, and images of Japan or Japanese-inspired names. "In Japan, everyone drinks delicious tea beside their Zen gardens," I deduced from the selection. And at the tea house in Boulder, I often gravitated to the leaves the menu cited as being of Japanese origin. "The tea from Japan must be the BEST," was kinda my underlying motivation, I think. So, yeah. I wanted to get here and immerse myself in the tasting of and learning about r e a l l y g o o d t e a s!! …But ya know what? That's not so easily done when you don't speak or read the language…and when you don't arrive with some basis of knowledge about the thing you so want to learn! (How do you ask a question about something without understanding it at least a little??) So…I was relegated to the same ol', same ol' tea bags of yore and the standard hot, green tea and occasional special cups of "exotic" teas when visiting other people in their homes.

Sick but happy (with my Japanese language class at karaoke)

Enter the afore-mentioned support system. I finally spoke up to a few select people about the sorrow, stress, and loneliness I was experiencing and each person responded in their own loving fashion to reassure and encourage me. (To know/remember that you are loved is perhaps the finest and most powerful medicine in the world.) This morning I got a really nice e-mail from a friend. He didn't take the route of merely fluffing my ego, sensing—I think—that when you're down in the dumps, there ain't much to fluff! ;) Instead, he basically said, "Yeah, your life is not what it once was. Your body is not what it once was. You are struggling...but there is joy to be had in even this. Make this time of your life a 'Renaissance of RheAnn.' Read, observe, write, create, be!" It really put things into perspective…immediately! I've been holding on so tightly to this IDEA I had of who I was, who I am, who I "should" be, what I'm doing, where I am, where I'm going, how I'd like my life…that I completely LOST myself when things didn't play out like the pictures on the tea boxes and the movies in my mind…
Even with all the good and AMAZING things that have happened in these past four and a half months, I was feeling alone and sick and powerless to make change. The shadows were overtaking the light. …But when I think about the light that remained…it was precisely as my friend had suggested—in the joys of learning and/or creating something! Just this past weekend, I returned to Kunitachi to visit Mr. and Mrs. Koike for my pottery lesson. I am studying the style of renowned artist Oribe because I saw it in a book on my first visit and fell in LOVE with it.  (The Koikes specialize in these techniques.)  Saturday I finally painted the chawan (tea bowl) I made on my first visit in May.  Mr. Koike pointed to an image he thought I should emulate and seated me in front of a bowl of chalky liquid and rustic brushes.  Though it was my first time to use this medium...I took to it like Alec Baldwin hosting SNL or Quincy Jones winning a Grammy.  You'd have thought I was born doing it! ;)  And here's what I realized.  Here's why I so adore my studies with the Koikes.  ...My pace is perfect.  I don't go too fast or slow.  No one wishes I'd speed up or slow down.  What I'm doing is exactly fine.  There are flexible parameters.  I have the tendency to become overwhelmed by possibility at times.  In this artform, I have the guidelines and the materials, but also limitless creative freedom WITHIN those guidelines.  I don't have to worry about anything.  I can't even UNDERSTAND my teachers! :)  When I am painting and when I am working with the clay, I am allowed to be without thought, and I mean it!  I sit there using a part of my brain that is otherwise never uninterrupted.  ...It's remarkable.  The end result is out of my contol.  In the Oribe style, it is said that "with God's blessing, you will make a good piece."  This is because the raw materials used in the glaze undergo a chemical reaction when fired in the kiln and the ways they drip or bubble and the colors that are made are all unpredictable.  ...I rather like that I can put hours of my effort toward making a "masterpiece" and leave not knowing what I've made.
So when I got that email from my friend today, everything kinda shifted for me.  I took off of school, put on my eye mask and my earplugs--which I  used to ALWAYS use, but haven't for a couple months--and I stretched out and slept soooo hard. I haven't slept like that since I've lived here! Then I got up and did some simple yoga. ...I haven't exercised in a couple months either, so it felt like I was breaking out of hard shell--like a cicada leaving its old skin.  ..And aren't I?
I spent the remainder of my day reading and writing and reconnecting with people I love.
During this "Renaissance of RheAnn," I will go at my own pace, releasing any expectation that may lead me toward disappointment in myself.  I will learn about tea and I will write things that matter to me and if I'm the dumbest in my class, I won't mind because I will learn in my own time.  I'm going to find what I lost.
 I nearly lost me there.

A cicada (or"semi") fashion show in Kunitachi

I didn't feel great, but I DID have a very special Fourth of July on the beach in Enoshima,

August 12--
Maybe this misconception is mine alone, but when I imagined needing medical attention here in Japan, I imagined I'd be offered a smorgasbord of so-called "Eastern" methods and remedies.  I thought I'd be told, "Burn this," "Drink this," "Adopt this diet," "Apply this," "Recite this," "Inhale this," "Poke this needle here," or "Do this type of stretch."  I imagined a world of alternative cure-alls--tinctures and ancient herbs, neti pots and detoxification, yoga and deep breathing.
Never in a million years did I imagine the style of "Western" medicine I'd encounter.  People live longer here in Japan. With no disrespect to the doctors of this nation, I suspect this truth has more to do with genetics, diet, and overall lifestyle than anything to do with modern medicine.
I have personally been ill almost consistently since my arrival.  At first it was digestive issues.  Then I developed what appeared to be an infection on my face.  I also wasn't sleeping very well.  I tried to tough it out but after two months of intense pain, I asked my friend to help me find an English-speaking doctor.  Believing my condition warranted immediate attention and that going to a doctor she knew and trusted would be a better choice than seeking out an unknown based merely on language, she took me instead to a friend's family doctor in my neighborhood and accompanied me to translate.  She described to this kind-looking man my symptoms at which point he gave a knowing nod and ordered a series of blood tests.  "Her problem," he said resolutely after noticing a tattoo on my arm, "is Hepatitis C."  Hmm.  This didn't sit well with me.  I have a years old tattoo and therefore I suddenly have a blood-born and possibly fatal illness?  Highly unlikely, Doc, but I'll play along. I figured if there WAS something wrong with my blood--due to change in diet or hormonal imbalance or whathaveyou--that it too would show up in these tests.  Regarding the infection on my face, the doctor told my friend, "She's just stressed because she's a single woman who came so far from her home."  Hmm.  Again, not exactly the sound diagnosis for which I was hoping, BUT I walked next door to have my prescriptions filled.  All of the pills and information bore only Japanese labelling and instructions, so I was looking through them during the car ride home so I could ask my friend any questions.  Okay.  This one is for my stomach and I take it three times a day.  Okay, and this one? Oh, okay, also for my stomach and I take it three times a day.  ...But what's this one???  I held up a little packet of pills to my companion.  "I don't know.  Maybe it's to help you sleep?"  The dosage is three times a day... Why would I take a sleeping pill at breakfast?  She examined the pharmacy documents more closely.  "Oh!  It's an antidepressant."  WHAT??? I met this doctor for the first time and was not even able to talk to him much less at any length and without any discussion about my mental well-health, he decides I'm stressed and depressed and need medication??  Not cool.  I felt I'd time travelled to the 1950's or something--where women were patted on the hand and issued tranquilizers for every malady and complaint and having a tattoo was considered dangerous and dirty.  ...I took the medications--afraid NOT to in my poor condition--but I descended into an even sicker state!  For 3 days I was completely unable to eat or even really function!  I slept all night wrapped in a blanket on the floor of my toilet room because my nausea was so intense.
Clearly this isn't working out.  Let's try again.
The results of my blood tests showed that everything seemed to be just fine with my blood--good liver function, balanced nutrition, AND...no Hepatitis. ;)  I asked my friend to take me to an English-speaking doctor for further evaluation of my stomach ailments.  She knew a doctor near her house who specialized in digestive issues.  Okay.  A specialist would be good...even if he DOESN'T speak English.  So we paid him a visit.  He was another kindly old gentleman.  He looked me in the eyes and seemed to want to come to the root of my problem.  He poked on me a lot and asked my friend a lot of questions, only to agree that the now worsening infection on my face was not an infection but generated from stress and that all my poor little tummy issues were caused by a virus.  A virus that I've had for nearly TWO MONTHS?  That sounds a smidge unlikely, but we'll see.  I again abided by doctor's orders to the tune of no improvement.  I was getting very concerned.
I should point out, by the way, that I wasn't even feeling particularly stressed!  I'm sure there was stress playing out in my body regarding the uprooting and replanting of my life and self, but by and large and far and away...I was really HAPPY!  I looooooooooooved (and still love) Japan and my house and my job and my new friends and the possibility of new experiences each and every day and the synchronistic way in which all things seemed to fall into place.  I wasn't worried or sad or overwhelmed.   ...I just had chronic stomach pain, poor digestion, irregular sleep patterns, and a rapidly spreading collection of swollen blemishes on every quadrant of my face.  I wanted someone to listen to me.  I wanted someone to help me.

Even feeling poorly, I love and adore my job and my students!!  (This is Kian.  She's brilliant.)

At the end of May, a member from one of our churches located an international clinic near my train line.  I went to this office on my own and met a very sweet doctor who spoke a little bit of English and could understand me pretty well when I spoke very slowly.  She looked sad when I told her how badly I felt about myself because of the marks on my face, but when I said I thought it was an infection, she said, "We'll worry about that after we get your stomach taken care of.  That's more important right now."  I suppose I can't argue with that.  They say the third times a charm, and in my case, this ended up being true.  This doctor gave me natural medicines and regimens and within a few days, I was eating again!  I felt great!!
I put off worrying about my face for over a month--even though the condition was DEFINITELY worsening, and even though my self-esteem was taking a major hit.  When a pink splotch appeared on my shoulder, though, I started to get very nervous.  This patch spread quickly and felt very, very hot to the touch.  I found an English-speaking dermatologist online and took a nearly 2 hour train ride to her clinic.  She was really cool and easy to talk to.  I told her I thought I had an infection.  ...She lectured me for 5 full minutes about how I need to eat meat and how my complexion problems were a result of my not getting enough protein in my diet. Wait a second.  ...What??  I've been virtually meatless for 17 years and COMPLETELY vegetarian for over FOUR years with absolutely no problem, but suddenly all of my issues stem from the need for meat in my diet?!  ...Nevermind that a Japanese doctor tested my blood with *stellar* results only a few weeks ago!  She wouldn't hear it.  I'd need to undergo a battery of tests to determine my hormone levels and any food allergies I might have and also, she was certain, how desperately I needed protein.  Okay.  This would be good information to have, actually.  ...And at least she's being proactive in treating me instead of shrugging it all off as "stress."  So, even though her clinic did not accept my insurance and the tests and treatments she was ordering would be very expensive, I agreed to comply.   ...Then she looked at the pink splotch on my shoulder...and she FREAKED out!!  "This is very serious!!  Why haven't you seen a doctor before now??" she screeched.  "Well...as I explained...I actually saw THREE doctors before now, and..."  "We need to get you on an IV right away!  Do you realize that if you'd waited even another week to be treated for this infection, you would be HOSPITALIZED?"  ::gulp::
I subjected to the IV and a couple other "necessary" procedures and purchased medicine directly from reception.  (The doctor wouldn't write a prescription for me to take to a pharmacy where I could use my insurance.  Hmm.  That's inconvenient.  But I was scared, so I complied fully.)  I and my bandaged shoulder made the two hour train ride home, where I checked my email and received a message from this clinic that essentially said, "Miss White, we've researched your condition more thoroughly and have discovered it is even more serious than we'd previously thought.  You need to visit any clinic for the next 7 days and receive an IV."  Okay.  I'm filing this under "HORRIBLE News."  What the heck am I gonna do?  I don't have time or money for such treatment...and what do I even have??  (The term she provided in the e-mail was "plegmone," which I couldn't find anywhere!  But I did find "phlegmon(e)" which led me to THIS video...which led me to nearly have a heart attack.)  Is this what will happen to my FACE??????
I did a little cryin' and a little prayin' and a little bit of "I wanna go hooooome"-in' and then I sent out a few dozen e-mails to friends, family, and supporters, asking for their prayers....which is when it hit me!  If I were in the States and I got a serious diagnosis that I didn't really understand, I'd want a second opinion!  So that's what I set about trying to find.  I mapped the train route to a clinic I'd wanted to visit in the first place, but was closed during the time I had available.  This time, I decided to MAKE time!  I skipped language school the next morning to head to Kyodo.  This was the best decision I could have made.  My new doctor, who received some of his training from Harvard, promises on his website to explain everything as clearly as possible and not to move forward with treatment with which the patient is not entirely comfortable.  So during my introductory visit, I regaled him with the lengthy story shared here.  He shook his head and looked down.  Oh no.  I've said something wrong.  I've offended him by questioning the expertise of his colleagues.  Or maybe he AGREES with these other doctors!  Oh no...  "I am so sorry you've experienced such inexcusable treatment," he said, sincerely.  "Three months is a long time to feel badly and to be worried and there is no reason that you should have been talked to or treated the way you have, so I just first want to apologize.  This must have been very difficult for you."  ...I nearly cried!  "Thank you.  Yes.  Yes, it has been very tough."  The new doctor re-examined the infection on my face and shoulder.  "How did this other doctor arrive at her diagnosis?" he asked.  I thought about this and realized... She hadn't even TOUCHED it!  She had me terrified that I had this deadly infection, and she hadn't run ANY tests or done any type of examination aside from a quick naked eye inspection.  "I think it's best to find out what we're treating before we engage in anything too dramatic, don't you?"  Uh huh! "So let's run some tests and keep close watch on your symptoms and figure out where we want to go from there."  He took some blood and wrote me some prescriptions, apologizing that I'd already paid full price for medicine I didn't need from the other clinic.
Bit by bit, the infection has been healing.  I've never so perfectly adhered to doctor's orders in my LIFE!  I feel very, very lucky that I found this doctor when I did!
About a week into treatment, I was at the beach with my good friend Hugh.  We were having (Don't laugh.) an existential experience in the waves at night--feeling the smallness and hugeness and history and impermanence of "NOW."  Suddenly during our shared philosophical mind-knitting, I turned to him and said, "I don't want to alarm you, but my legs are really burning...like...I've been bitten or stung by something..."  He said he felt that too, and since we couldn't see anything in the blackness of the water in the dark, we decided to just make a run for it and bolted to the shore.  We examined our wounds by the light of my iPhone.  Mine covered far more surface area--the tentacles of some kind of jellyfish apparently having wrapped around both of my legs.  I tried to behave as though nothing was wrong, but within minutes I was dizzy and falling over.  Then I was stricken by panic, so we left the beach immediately.  ...THEN I became very nauseated and had to jump off the train at some random station to be sick.  I felt blessed to make it home that night.
Hugh's sting marks were gone within a day, but mine continued to worsen, growing bigger and redder and hotter and itching quite a bit.  I even missed another day of school because of it!
When I visited my doctor for my follow-up visit last week, I showed him the marks.  He said, "It appears you've had a very bad reaction to the venom!  I believe it would have been much, much worse for you if you had not been on the antihistamines I prescribed for your infection."
...
So there ya go!  Here I'd been for months and months complaining and feeling increeeeeedibly self-conscious about this face infection, but in the end...that infection, or at least the treatment FOR that infection, may very well have prevented me from experiencing full-on anaphylactic shock!!
(Did I mention that I love synchronicity??)

Hugh and I on our way to the beach, oblivious to the trouble that would befall us. (Notice my bandaged shoulder?)

So I set about continued improvement, feeling quite amazed and lucky and optimistic.  But a couple days later, the marks on my legs again began to swell and itch--looking MUCH grosser and hurting MUCH more this time.  Then I started feeling fatigued and had a bit of a scratchy throat. :(
By this past Monday, I'd completely lost my voice and was beyond unwell.  This time around I've missed 3 days of school.  ::sigh::
My friend took me back to the "specialist."  (I put this in quotations because I don't think he's a gastroenterologist, so I don't know what his "specialty" actually is, only that he also practices general medicine.)  THIS time I came with a sheet of origami paper on the back of which I'd written out eeeeeeeeeeverything this doctor could possibly need to know.  ...Good move, me!!  This was much better than expecting my friend to remember and relay every little thing to this physician.  He was actually able to read the document himself and looked up the decongestant ingredient I'd named as having been a problem for me in the past.  He also even attempted to speak to me in English and seemed to have a new type of respect and care for me.  In the end, he said he suspected it was just a summer cold, but that my tonsils were swollen enough that he supposed it could also be an infection... So he treated both.  Hahaha!
I've gone from a girl who rarely to never took medication, especially if an alternative treatment (homeopathy, energy work, or changes in diet/routine) seemed likely to help, to a girl who takes MULTIPLE medications a day...and still feels like poo.
Yes, I write this from my sick bed where I am attempting to heal my body through rest.  I don't take any part of this adventure for granted, and I feel I'm somehow on the "right track" ...whatever that means and wherever it's going.
Once I've recovered, I look so forward to fully engaging in my life here again.  I've been here 4 of my 36 months and I hope the remaining 32 of em find me on a different kind of a quest.  ...I'd hate to have to come back to America in order to regain my health through Eastern medicine. :)

My life here is so richly blessed--with great people and new experiences. I must get well, so I can fully appreciate it! (This is a photo I took at the "Cat'fe" of a cat with tiny ears.)