Home

I'm writing this from an airplane taking me back to Shenyang, not knowing which direction home is for me. For those of you who don't know, I recently went home to Pennsylvania to see my Poppop who is now in hospice care. I spent from Tuesday to Saturday back home and had the blessing of an opportunity to spend time with Poppop before I had to leave. Doctors have diagnosed him with stage four lung cancer and he has been having a hard time breathing. But throughout all of his pain, my Poppop has been a steady rock, ever faithful in his belief that he is headed Home. He is not afraid of the future because he knows what is waiting for him ahead. That kind of faith impresses and humbles me, teaching me that while life is precious, it is our belief in something greater that can help us through tough times.

Four full days with my family and friends was hardly "enough" but I cannot be greedy. One hour with Poppop was worth every minute and dollar spent traveling. When I was on the fence about coming home, it was my colleagues who told me stories of their loved ones' passing that helped me make the decision. Not everyone gets the opportunity to say goodbye (especially in the Foreign Service), and it's often only the funeral that one can make it home to be part of. For four full days, I am utterly grateful.

I left early Sunday morning, and I will get in to Shenyang late Monday night. I'm stuck here in the air in limbo, a middle place between two homes. No doubt Philadelphia will always be home to me, but in the two short years I've spent in the Foreign Service, Shenyang has become a second home as well. I've nested, learned the streets, spent winters and summers in this tiny/huge city of 8 million (in addition to the biggest factor of making tons of friends here). And soon I'll say goodbye to my present home in Shenyang, maybe forever, who knows. It's scary, but exciting, because the future is unknown but very much likely better than the present. It's up to me.

Though hardly equivalent in scale or life meaning, I like to think that my Poppop is also going to a future place, unknown but much better. He will enter heaven with the light of grace shining him forward, to meet his family living on the other side. There won't be any more pain or suffering. Although he won't be with us anymore in this familiar place, he will have a future of blessings and hopefully look over us as we continue our little treks in this big world.

I'm anxious about this period of time being incommunicado with my family. I wish I could be connected here but in the end, I know that whatever will be will be. Until next time, I sign off with the hope that my Poppop is sleeping a restful night with no pain, until he's ready to make his journey home.

In the early morning of Monday, September 23, Duard Glass, my Poppop, passed away. He was 80 years old.

Dear Poppop Glassie: I love you, forever. Thanks for the best birfday cards, lots of belly laughs, and being a great model of faith in my life. I'll miss you, but know that you're in a better place. Your Caroline

http://www.deckerfuneralhome.com/obituaries.asp?id=1075

Wordless Wednesday (Burma)

100 Days

People in the Foreign Service are planners. Before FS folk bid on a place, they research the post extensively, including everything from schools and driving to the availability of dish soap and kitty litter. We have an entire office dedicated to providing guidance and planning information for our transfers. Once at post, we work off of to-the-minute Outlook calendars and weekly countdown meetings, taskers and hourly schedules for incoming visitors. Especially in the OMS world, organization is the key and the MO of our daily lives. So with that knowledge, I present to you:

The Countdown Spreadsheet:

Someone waaaaay before me created this spreadsheet and I heard about it through the BFF when I got to post. Simply plug in your start and end date and the spreadsheet tells you how many months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and seconds you have left in your tour. I can see this being potentially dangerous for people who have awful tours, but I only ever looked at this once or twice during my time here. Once at about the 1-year mark, and then more recently when I realized I was coming up on 100 days. Well folks: I have 100 days and counting left in Shenyang...

Honestly, it's gone by so fast. The comings and goings of people. The happenings of large events and parties. Trips and excursions and getting lost along the way. Shenyang 2011-2013 is 3.32 months from over for me and I can't believe it. True, I've had hard times and heartbreak that make November 2013 seem long in coming, but the absolutely great times, great memories, and great friends throughout have made it the best anyone could have expected out of a first tour. I wouldn't exchange it for the world!

Fourteen weeks is still a long time, and I am glad for it. I'm not ready to leave yet and I have some things to check off before I go. Some of them include:

• A road trip to Changbaishan, the glacier lake along North Korea's border (mid Sep)
• An adventure through Cambodia, to visit friends in Phonm Penh and tour Siem Reap and Angkor Wat (end Sep- early Oct)
• A Halloween pub crawl to leave my last mark on the bar scene in Shenyang (end Oct)
• A final visit to Beijing to get my last set of clothes made and bid farewell to the capital (mid Nov)
• A massive Thanksgiving party to rival last years' extravaganza (end Nov)

Plus, having just witnessed the crazy amount of farewell gatherings for my colleagues here in Shenyang, I can guess that the last two or three weeks will simply be PACKED full of dinners, lunches, and outings to say goodbye (in addition to the official duties like packing out my apartment and checking out of the office). 

In the meantime, I have really been enjoying looking on the bright side of life lately. R mentioned to me that perhaps it is the weight lifted from my shoulders of no longer worrying about saying goodbye. Instead of fretting to eek out precious moments here at post, I am actively making plans to reunite with the people who left in their new habitats. That excitement, in addition to the weekend's beautiful weather, has me feeling simply buoyant. I'd like to hold onto this summery glow of basking in the worry-free sun forever, but I know that just as autumn and winter will soon tumble down upon us, my impending departure date will also creep up faster than I can imagine.

Here's to 2,404 2,402 more wonderful hours in Shenyang!

Et cetera - "On the meaning of home, the joy of traveling and the serenity of standing still"

In continuation of my earlier discussion about home leave, I want you to watch this TEDtalk video of Pico Iyer. Pico Iyer is a well-known author who writes about travel and culture and has himself traveled hundreds of thousands of miles around the world as a man from many backgrounds. As a foreign service person, I can relate to his sentimets in this video about what home is. Many times I've thought while traveling, "Ah, this is nice, but I can't wait to be home (in my apartment)." And then there's times where I'm in my apartment in Shenyang and I go, "I miss home (Philadelphia)." And of course, there is always the feeling I get when I've been in one place for so long that I get an itchy sensation in my body to travel again, move places, and experience new things. The state of learning and exploring is also a kind of "home" for me, too.

Who knows where this wanderlust came from, but one thing remains the same: I find that the people in my life and the memories I have with them are ultimately what I call home, and those memories are kept and treasured deep inside of me.

Enjoy!

“It’s only by stopping the movement that you can see where to go. And it’s only by stepping out of your life and the world that you can see what you most deeply care about, and find a home.”

…

“Movement is a fantastic privilege and it allows us to do so much that our grandparents could never have dreamed of doing. But movement, ultimately, only has a meaning if you have a home to go back to. And home, in the end, is of course, not just a place where you sleep. It is the place where you stand.”

Great Wall Marathon 2013

Beijing at 3:00am still swarms with taxis, shuttling rowdy expats from bars in Sanlitun home to their apartments in the Guluo hutongs. So I didn't worry about finding a taxi at 2:50am, when the BFF and two more of my colleagues joined me on the way to the Beijing International Business Hotel. I had brought them with me on my second journey to the Huangyaguan section of the Great Wall. Whether I had accurately advertised running the Great Wall Marathon to them or swindled them into signing up for a crazy, difficult race was yet to be determined. But when we arrived at the hotel to meet the buses, my group of faithful followers was in high spirits and excited to get started. Seven joined me on the bus, while the CG and his wife met us at the start of the race. All together, Team Shenyang was made of NINE intrepid runners who would all face the Wall and its 5,164 steps of history.

The marathon weekend had started the day prior, when a group of us departed the 'Yang by train and made our way to Beijing. Thanks to the BFF's incredible amount of hotel points, I shared a room with her at the Crowne Plaza Chaoyang U-Town. To whittle away the time before we had to head to an early bed (given the early start!), we made our way over to Sanlitun to shop and eat. We stopped at the Bookworm, a real book store, to quench our thirst for the written word in physical form. Watching the two of them at home among the many pages was like watching two kids come home to the welcoming arms of their parents. Nothing is more normal than those two enjoying a good book. So glad we got to stop there. After a tasty Persian meal at Rumi, we caught the Metro home and made our way to bed.

So there we were, riding the early morning bus to the base of the Great Wall in heightened anticipation of what's to come. I was feeling very nervous. I felt I hadn't prepared enough this time around. Last year, I had gotten to about 11-12 miles in my long training runs. I had logged significantly more miles in total, as well. This year, I had been focusing much more on strength training, with a concerted effort to improve my leg strength and glute strength. My mileage was much lower and I had fewer opportunities to get outside due to both a busier schedule and poorer air quality. With all that on my mind (plus the stress of hoping everyone was having a good time), I didn't really notice that all of a sudden I was at the start line and we were running.

The course is difficult. The first 3km are uphill, along the mountain access road that leads to the Great Wall parking lot and entrance. Very early on, I lost A among the faster runners. "Godspeed and good luck!" I called out to him as he passed me out of the entryway. As I climbed the hill, I felt a difference from last year. This wasn't so tough, these hills seemed steeper last year. Sooner rather than later, I got to the top of the hill and made my way to the Wall. The next 3km are up and down the steps of the Wall. After the heavy incline, the steps actually helped loosen my calves. Now it was my quads and glutes on fire. Jog jog jog, and wait; jog jog jog, and wait. That's the tempo on the wall because of the bottlenecks. It's not a particularly wide section of the wall, so people are forced to take their time down the stairs as they come. But eventually I rounded the final corner of the wall and saw the Yin Yang Square below me. Halfway there, I thought, and I don't event feel tired?! This feels great!

By the time I made my way through the Square and onward to the village, I had found my true running stride and I was truckin'. The asphalt road to the village has an ever so slight downgrade, so I let the wind push me and gravity pull me through to the village entrance. Right around the time I was stopping at drink station 9 to get my snacks, I saw A coming toward me, having just finished the village himself. "Almost there!" Seeing him come through that connection gave me inspiration to keep going, along with the realization I knew my legs were solid. I had such better muscle strength than this time last year. I remember the agony of running the back stretch and feeling the strain in my legs and knees as I struggled to finish. This year, I kept a steady pace, cruised to my music, and just let my feet go. And go they did!

Finishing 17 minutes faster than last year, I made it through the finish line with more energy, more strength, and more emotion than last year. What a great feeling! And guess who was there to see me cross? Everyone who had finished already from my group! A cheering squad of colleagues and a round of hugs. Nothing could have been better.

I want to take a minute to thank everyone who came to participate in Team Shenyang this year. Your finishing stories were amazing to hear and I'm so happy to have been able to share this wonderful experience with you. I'm proud that you were able to trust me and believe in yourselves that you could do it too! The Great Wall Marathon is now ours and for once, when we say "Shenyang wins again!" we really did win!! Bravo!