Jenny's Blog

Wild Wednsesdays: Dance Showcase

The Fred Astaire dance studio is hosting a showcase this Sunday!  The event will have wonderful dance performances by professionals and students alike as well as great food!  If you are a ballroom dance enthusiast, or just enjoy a great show in an intimate setting with delectable eats, then come Sunday!  It's in the shopping center on the north side of 285 right before Santa Fe in Englewood.  Hope to see you there!

Mental Mondays: The Change

There’s always been a moment for me when I’m sitting with a younger sibling and all of a sudden I’m hit by this thought:  “Holy s#$%, you’re a real person now.”  Of course, they’ve always been a person, in existence, taking up space, but there’s a time when they become a highly functioning thinker, problem solver, critique of the world around them, an actively beneficial member of society.  They’ve taken responsibility for themselves, if you will.  I have five younger siblings.  I’ve experienced this moment three times. 

The most recent was with my youngest biological brother.  He sat behind the wheel of my car hours after dinner.  I interrupted our conversations with brief reminders to turn the brights on or off as lone pairs of headlights came and went past us on their journey home.  He’s not had the easiest childhood; being the youngest of three, enduring his older siblings’ abuse, experiencing the full effects of divorce, remarriage, and being integrated into a new family and the home the other step-siblings had occupied for years has taken its toll.  My other brother and I were gone by then and he was left to fend for himself.  He talks little, laughs at my self-deprecating humor constantly, and even in his driver permit-bearing years, still indulges my desire to curl him up into a ball, canoodle him in my lap and pet his head while cooing.  He’s as big as I am, bless his heart. 

And similar to my other brother and myself, the relationship models Garrett has had has carved out vast ruts in his heart.  Rarely do I get him to talk about it, but I felt this night was special- it was the first time he’d ever driven with me while not sitting in my lap, he had asked if he could come along, and it just felt right.  I started asking him questions.  I’ve found that the best way to get any individual to think the way you want them to without telling them so is to ask leading questions.  So that is just what I did.  I asked him first about relationships in general:  “Do you believe in marriage? Well then, if half of marriages don’t work out, half of them do.  What do you think the half that does stay together do to make it in the long run?  Do you think you could put the hard work and commitment in that it takes?  Would you want to?”  Then I asked him about girls and get the answers I expected.  I asked him why they are so immature and what he wished was different about them.  What characteristics would his perfect girl have?  What characteristics would their relationship be like?  What kind of boyfriend would he want to be?  “What do you mean you don’t know?  Well, if she were talking to her friends about you, what are the three qualities you’d hope she would say she likes best about you?”  These are the types of questions that get him thinking about the things worth thinking about rather than just focusing on the negative.   And then he said: “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?  What are you looking for so I know how I can be better?”

There it was.

 “Holy s%$#, you’re a real person now.”

There’s a moment when a person no longer is trying to meet all of their own basic needs, but is thinking outside of the box.  They are trying to better themselves for the people around them, and/or simply trying to better the world around them.  They’ve taken responsibility.

The first time this happened with my brother just under me, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  The second time, with my step-brother, it was less of a shock but still unexpected.  This time, I had felt it coming.  Like fall turns to winter and winter to spring, I could feel Garrett warming to his new role in life, a role that is going to be as beautiful as that long-awaited warmth of summer.    

Fun Fact Fridays: Lucky You

Be grateful that you go to a university that encourages you to go abroad so adamantly.  I visited schools this past week that are lucky to have 40 out of 1600 students go abroad.  I visited schools that don’t provide their students with any study abroad financial aid.  I visited schools that don’t allow their students to get credit towards their major while abroad.  I met students that would have to quit sports, take a semester off, or even stay in school an extra semester to go abroad.  I met students who had never even been told that studying abroad was an option.  The University of Denver gives you the opportunities all of the above-mentioned schools don’t.  Take advantage of it!  It’ll change your life!  You’re doing the students that don’t have the opportunity as well as yourself a disservice by not!

Wild Wednesdays: Where are all the cowboys?

The lullaby of trucks zooming past us the other way and the rocking nature of 36 feet of vehicle on four wheels driving down the highway at 77mph had ceased.  I pulled back the curtain from the 2x3.5x6 foot space I had all to myself and hopped out to follow the three other women off the RV.  There was one other vehicle parked on an entire block of street lined by what literally were old saloon buildings, horse hitches still stood like little ghost sodiers in rows in front of them.  

"Where are all the cowboys?"  The place was empty.  We ventured towards the shops.  I glanced into a glass window and found myself staring at an odd display of dead jackals and rabbits dressed in business clothes, sitting in tiny chairs, and surrounded by historical shelves laden with old prescription bottles and papers.  Strange.  Very strange.  The rabbit was even wearing spectacles.  We entered one of the welcomingly open doors a few windows down and were immersed in a world of the west.  Old wooden carvings of Natives and cowboys were everywhere.  "There they are."  Trinkets, toys, artwork, cowboy boots, vests, dream catchers, pottery, shotglasses, jewelry, and a plethora of other westernized paraphenalia covered the walls and shelves lined in numerous shops coming off the main hall.  I was in paradise.  No joke, if you've ever walked into an old person's house and it's just covered in old west items and smells like incense and cigars, that'll be what mine looks like in forty years.  If I ever settle.  Ever. 

I got back from Vietnam, was home for about a week, then headed to Fort Collins to hop onto a 36 foot RV with the outside covered in study abroad images.  A massive blowup of a girl on the back gives everyone the 'thumb's up' as we pass them.  I'm on it with three other good looking young women.  Let's just say we attract a lot of attention.  From FoCo we headed to Nebraska and are now in South Dakota, spending our days meeting with university offices and tabling for their students about study abroad options and by night staying in RV parks answering emails and drinking boxed wine.  

It has truly been a fantastic experience.  I have to admit that at first I was secretly a little nervous.  I had no idea what to expect from any detail of the entire trip.  From setting up meetings, to going to the meetings, to organizing materials, to living with three women I had never met before and trying to win them over, I just had no idea and I was nervous.  I swallowed that, internalized it where I couldn't focus on it and just rolled with the punches.  We ended up staying with the parents of one of the women I'm traveling with in Sioux Falls, and when asked by her father how long we had all known each other, the other girls all answered over a year.  I met them all Monday.  He commended my bravery for stepping into such a new situation and all I could come up with was "I guess that's probably why they hired me."  And it's all been great.  

The first day I was getting used to the dynamics, which was interesting but I got through.  Since then, the time has just flown by.  There are moments when I'm faced with challenges that I've never handled before that I think to myself, "I don't want to do this forever."  It's scary, can you blame me?  Then the challenge comes and goes and I go through it all seamlessly and I know I really do love this job.  No day is the same.  One day I'm doing research, the next I'm in Vietnam, then I'm putting together charts and paperwork, then I'm on an RV headed to the Black Hills in South Dakota.  Sweet.  

Even better, I meet absolutely wonderful people.  The other women I am traveling with are phenomenal individuals.  I've learned so much from them already and am able to relate with them on many levels that I can't with other people.  They have a similar lifestyle to mine at the moment, and thus understand and cope with the same challenges while appreciating the same gifts that come with what we do.  They are an inspiration for the future.  Then there are the daily interactions where we stop.  All of the study abroad and career center individauls I meet with I learn so much from about traveling, the industry I'm in, and dealing with students.  I meet students, like a senior at Wesleyan University named Tom, who has traveled more than I and has a passion for working with child refugees that he is actively pursuing.  How cool is that!?  I met a sixty something police officer who was extremely talkative about most subjects people avoid with strangers, and a professor at Lincoln Uni who let me dink around in the flight simulator cockpit in their aerospace department.  On a daily basis I instantaneously connect and disconnect with so many people, departing from them slightly changed and hoping I changed them for the better.

To sum up, just do it.  Embrace any challenge the world or a boss throws at you.  You might surprise yourself with how well you handle it and prove to them your worth.  In addition, you may find even better inspiration along the way. 

Mental Mondays: A Child's Science Fair

"The most interesting information comes from children, for they say all they know and then stop."  ~Mark Twain.

Last week I stood in a cafeteria full of cardboard boards, plant pots, and batteries with their children overseers chatting away with one another emphatically in front of them.  I had a clipboard and a couple dozen score sheets in my hand.  Time to start judging some science fair projects. 

I don't know what I had originally expected, but I did not expect what I experienced.  I sat down with child after child and was blown away by their ability to comprehend and even articulate science.  They told me about plant germination, the role of ions in electrical currents, battery acid, even the energetic quality of heat.  I don't remember having been that smart.  And that's the part that gets me the most.  I just finished an undergraduate senior thesis that took me the better part of two years to research and pull together and that ability must have started somewhere.  Well, there it was right in front of me.  It started in third grade, fourth grade, and in fifth grade.  In those years I learned about and wrote my first hypotheses, procedures, conclusions.  Discussion sections, like with these students, were probably only required of me in fourth grade.  Maybe later?  Who knows.  But the experience was mindblowingly hind-sighted and rewarding.

I had heard about it originally from an old professor who has me on one of her emailing lists.  Rarely do I even read them, but this time the words "science fair" caught my eye and all of a sudden I was signed up to be a volunteer judge.  Don't underestimate the value of building relationships with your professors, or even taking only a couple hours out of your day to give your time at an elementary school.  I don't remember any college graduate talking to me about dependent and independent variables at my fourth grade science fair, but if they did, they probably got my mind asking questions it wouldn't have otherwise had they not been there.  You never know when you can be an insignificantly impactful (as contradictory as that sounds) influence in a younger you's life.  

Fun Fact Fridays: Cultural Eats

Food drives people's lives. This is the case all over the world, not just here. We value and often favor foreign cuisine. Here in Denver one can find anything from Mexican, to Vietnamese, Japanese, Cuban, and even Morrocan. People travel all over the world simply chasing food. Take Anthony Bourdain, for example. He's an extreme case of experiencing cultural immersion by mastication, but he still leads a good example. The foods different cultures eat are a great indication of their environment, what they have access to, and what their cultural taboos allow and don't allow.

Since 3/4 of DU undergraduates study abroad, it's important for them to know that they'll likely be offered foods we may consider strange. I highly recommend trying them. Now I'm not saying eat an entire bowl of rotten shrimp in China because it's rude to decline (trust me, I've had to do that), but certainly try foods that have been well cooked, are on a set menu, and are served in a legitimate venue, like pigeon in Vietnam! Seriously, delicious stuff! I had to make joke of it though since the three other individuals I was with had gotten their meals about ten minutes before me that they were out catching it fresh. And it tasted fresh, like chicken fresh. So get out there and be adventurous and immerse yourself in a culture through their food. Know that many foreign peoples also do not share their food unless they would like to get to know you and be friends, so to decline may be taken very offensively. Best of luck!

Wild Wednesdays: Seoul

The Seoul airport in South Korea was voted the best airport for layovers in the world, and for good reason.  The airport is easy to get around in, stay entertained in, and get out of.  The floor plan is simple and directions are easy to follow.  The building has an entire area dedicated to individuals with lengthly layovers, boasting spas, hot tubs, lounges, free internet access, shower rooms, a mini hotel, and even transit tours.  Having nearly a twelve hour layover made me jump on the option of a transit tour immediately.  Even if I was only exploring Korea for eight hours, I still got another stamp in my passport.  Heck yes!

Now, most people wouldn't have made this choice, not because it wasn't a good one, but because of the day.  It was the founder of North Korea's birthday and all U.S. missiles were aimed directly at it.  Who in their right mind would go out in Korea on a day like that?  Well, let me put it this way, South Korea is a different place, not to mention if the country were to get bombed, I'd rather be on a tourist bus somewhere than in the airport that has a massive "I'm a huge missile target" sign on it. Better to take my chances elsewhere.  And it was so worth it.

The Hana Tours tour began with a visit to one of the most historic waterways in the area.  Though it has been lined with cement, matching the city built up around it, it is still quite interesting to hear its old purpose as a very popular gathering place and to see that same purpose being lived out today.  People would come out to enjoy a coffee or tea together, to sit along the water's edge and relax, and also to congregate for market, from which I purchased an odd sort of candied sweet potato.  Tourists were common and taking many pictures.  I myself had to get a picture in, as I was in the very stylish socks I had just purchased to keep my feet warm under my flip flops and a borrowed XXL football player's trench coat.  Don't laugh, I had to stay warm and besides, you just wait.  In a few months, that'll be the style all over Korea.  It was quite dashing.

From the waterway we ventured to the most beautiful temple grounds I've ever seen, and I've seen many. It was the old home and prayer location of the ancient kings.  The architecture, detailed paint work, and blooming cherry blossoms all over the grounds made for a breathtaking scene.   As always, I was the last one to rejoin the group at every stop because I was going photo-crazy.

Lunch was at a traditional Korean restaurant.  Earlier in the day we were given main course options that were then ready for us on arrival in addition to six very common dishes.  It was a great meal.  After lunch we were given about an hour to explore the adjacent market street and browse for souveneirs.  

Our final stop of the tour was a temple still used today.  They must've been nearing a holiday of some sort, as decorative lanterns were strewn up everwhere, more were being made by women in the courtyard, fabric was being dyed various colors with natural pigments nearby, and the temple itself was filled with hundreds of people chanting and bowing and bowing and chanting.

The whirlwind tour made for a fast and enjoyable layover.  I highly recommend anyone going through that part of the world and needing to layover, to do so at Incheon/Seoul International Airport.  Going out and in through immigration was swift and easy, and what I saw of Korea was well worth it.

Mental Mondays: Home

After nearly two days of flights and airports I'm finally home.  You don't know the relief.  I loved Vietnam, I really did.  It's a phenomenally unique country filled with, well, there's no better way to describe it than randam character.  Bicycles still pull rickshaws and women crowned in whicker triangles carry baskets hanging from a pole on their backs like weighted scales measuring the days ahead of them against the days past.  These faces of rural villages can be seen walking astride the Rolls Royces that drift near the more expensive hotels and restaurants.  The whole place is in organized chaos.  It is defined by no traffic laws nor any sanitation we know, but they have a system that works for them.  Every morning at dawn the streets flood with a quiet peaceful people intent on balancing their physical lives with walking, running, or tai chi.  In the evenings, shops relinquish their garbage to the trashmen that pierce the air with their ringing bells and then store owners burn what small piles are left along the side walks.  Families line the walkways to eat their dinner.  Three and four generations can be seen seated at their short plastic tables filled with steaming food, laughing with one another and keeping an eye on the toddlers too distractable to sit in their seats.

It is for family and friends, my own relationships, that I am most grateful to be home.  I miss the people in my life terribly when I'm gone.  As much as I enjoy the company of the people I am working with, the sights I see and the memories I make I so wish to be sharing with the people I love.  If only they could all come with me, but since that is not possible, I do find myself relieved to be home and recharging with the energy of their embraces and smiles.  The same is true of the mountain air, snow and pine trees that are so familiar to me.  There is truly no place like home.  

Fun Fact Fridays: The land of 90% Buddhists who say they're not Buddhists

In Vietnam, 90% of the population do not affiliate themselves with any religion.  However, twice a month, once on the new moon and once on the old moon, about 80% of the country's population visit pagodas to pray.  It's a bit contradictory, don't you think?  The first visit is to ask for prosperity, good health, fortune, pregnancy, wealth, etc.  On the second visit, they thank the Buddha for the month's gifts.  

I've visited numerous pagodas since arriving in Vietnam.  The ones that truly stand out in my memory are those I visited my first Saturday in this country, the day before my group arrived.  I walked into a travel agency, sat down, and asked them for a day tour that would give me a hiking option.  I didn't care where I was going, as long as I was out in nature and got a hike in.  They had one.  To an ancient pagoda on top of a mountain.  Built into a huge cave.  Up 5km of stairs.  Only US$34 for the day with lunch included.  It was a no brainer.  

So the next morning I awoke early, got on a little shuttle bus with eleven other foreigners, some from Italy, some from Belgium, Israel, Germany, and then there was the American:  me.  We made a ninety minute drive to a village out in the middle of nowhere.  From there we took an hour boat ride on a canal to the intrance dock to the pagoda.  Along that stretch of canal are 5,000 operating boats that transport mostly locals back and forth to the pagoda.  As our caucasian selves drifted by, many Vietnamese in other boats were taking pictures of us.  This place did not see many foreigners, and I was pleasantly surprised it hadn't.  Between you and me, I generally try to avoid other travelers for their lack of acknowledgement and respect for the country's standards they are visiting.  I'm often embarassed and shamed to be a foreigner, especially an American.  

But I digress.  The experience was phenomenal.  The boat ride was a great experience and the pagoda port was a bustling array of people and primitive food practices.  Whole wild animals hung in glass cases next to stacks of bananas, presumably staying cold.  We then walked towards the pagoda.  Shops lined the stairs all the way to the top.  We stopped about half a kilometer in to eat a pre-made lunch.  The shop was a massive eating-style cafeteria and was so loud I couldn't hear the Italian sitting across the table from me.  It was fantastic.  

We had been given the option to take the cable car to the top or walk.  I was one of three people in a group of twelve that chose to walk.  What lazy bums!  The guide informed us that it would take us about forty minutes to walk, he would be taking the cable car with the others.  I did it in 25.  Stopping at shops to browse was not on my list of things to do going up.  I wanted to get my heart rate up.  So off I went, leaving the two Germans behind.  Yes, I may have been being slightly antisocial, but I made friends of some of them on the way down- a much easier pace for browsing and conversation.  

At the top the views were gorgeous.  Cliffs as far as the eye could see bore only patches of their sandstone faces, the rest were covered in a shroud of greenery.  A few flights of stairs down took one to the entrance to a massive cave.  The volume from all of the people there was extroardinary, as it was the second moon of the month.  People were coming in droves to thank the spirits for their month's good fortune.  

We spent a long period of time observing the religious practices of the Vietnamese.  Prayers were whispered all around me as I perched on different rocks for a good picture.  On the way out, I passed groups of people pushing to reach far above one another towards the ceiling.  Water drops fell into their waiting hands, which they then wiped onto their faces.  They do it for luck.  

We turned and made our way out of the Perfume Pagoda and back down to the base of the mountain.  Another, more anthropologically designed pagoda resided at the bottom.  After our viewing we returned to our boat, returned to the water, the bus, and made our way back to Hanoi.  I felt it an amazingly refreshing and rejuvenating day after so much city bustle.  

Wild Wednesdays: Snake Meat Village

Snakes are symbolic in literature across the world.  In many cultures they represent temptation, evil, and ominous events.  In others, they are more positively depicted for ingenuity, luck, and even strong sexual potency. 

I had made several trips and phone calls to the local Backpacker on Ma May street to set up a Snake Village tour for our group that they were offering.  It was only US$18 as long as we could get six people.  I didn't think that was a problem, and it wasn't.  Only three of our group of 19 decided to forego the optional exploration of handling and eating snakes. 

The night was set up perfectly.  I was able to secure for our large group our own private taxi so that we wouldn't have to walk all of the way to the backpacker to catch our ride.  We arrived at the restaurant earlier than our Australian guide, Adam that I had met with previously.  The servers took the time to let us handle surprisingly docile snakes.  I was amazed that the creatures didn't bite for all of the rough-handling the servers were doing with them.  I'll admit though that it was hard to watch the snakes show the aggravation through their body movements, even if not through biting.  Then one of the idiots removed a cobra from the cage, a highly dangerous creature.  The handler even had the face of an idiot.

Adam arrived with a half dozen other foreigners that had obviously been enjoying themselves prior to the excursion.  It was now 8pm.  He led our group through an introduction of the night's purpose and events.  Snake, and especially snake heart, is a highly prized meat in Vietnam.  It is an aphrodisiac for both men and women and only the affluent can afford it.  I can't decide if this part is culturally practiced or a show for the tourists, but individuals would have the opportunity to rip a still beating heart from a live snake with only their teeth if they would like.  I wanted to try snake heart BEFORE I heard this part.  I'll try most things once, but this goes against every inch of my flesh that is an animal rights activist.  I'd prefer the snake to be killed quickly and humanely, thank you.  Three of the young men in our group and every single one of the other foreigners opted for snake heart though.  Time for the show.

The servers brought out a bag of snakes.  One by one they would slit the chest of a snake, finger out its heart, and the young man would kneel on his knees to tear the cardiac tissue from the body with only his teeth.  Afterwards, he would take a sip of freshly juiced blood from his snake.  The stomach of the snake was then opened and juiced and a bile glass taken by the young man.  I was surprised no one blew chunks.  The server would then snap the still writhing body of the snake hard against the wooden floor and the gaping mouth gasping in pain would stop forever more.

We were all then directed to mats around the table.  The glasses of blood and bile were disbursed among us for their contents to be shared into our individual shot glasses.  Snake blood did not go down so easy.  I was even more skeptical of bile, but that was not bad.  It tasted more like rice wine than anything.  Then we received plates of snake stir fry, snake spring rolls, snake meat balls, snake ribs, and sticky fried rice.  The whole time Adam is encouraging massive amounts of drinking and the rice wine is disappearing quickly.  Our group is clearly divided into the party-goers and the nots.  I don't drink anymore after one shot of blood, one shot of bile, and one shot of rice wine.  I pig out on the meat balls and ribs instead since they are D-licious!

I make it a point to check with the group under my breath, especially the Dr. to ensure that everyone is comfortable around the debauchery and they know we can leave at any time.  About fifteen minutes later we depart.  Half of the group has chosen to return to the backpacker hostel with Adam and the other foreigners for more drinking and a pub crawl.  I tell them to make smart choices, look out for one another, stick to the buddy system, and make sure they have hotel cards with my number.  The other half of us get in our taxi and return to the hotel. 

I return to my room to drop off by bag and head back downstairs to reenter the night.  There's a knot in my stomach about the half of the group we left behind.  I take a moto to the backpackers and give the receptionist my name and number to be used in case one of our students may encounter an emergency.  We nod one another a goodbye and I take off walking back to the hotel, drifting in and out of streets set up with second-hand merchandise booths.  Finally I hire a taxi back to the hotel and quickly fall asleep, feeling like this night was the first night I actually did something right by everyone, except the snakes.