tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43417366202374475042024-03-05T18:28:20.104-08:00Anchors AdriftMy foray into expat life in Cambodia (and back), one glorious haphazard step at a timeJocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.comBlogger622125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-74468257200428837682016-08-14T22:12:00.001-07:002016-08-14T22:14:57.568-07:00Chiang Mai<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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More than halfway through 2016. What a privilege to have been able to call this place home for a few months in our life. M has thrived.Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-24457487111738944372016-01-24T17:47:00.001-08:002016-01-24T17:55:03.889-08:002016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am averaging one blog post every 6 months. Nonetheless, I'm thankful for this space.</div>
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We just completed our longest trip as a family. We took a month off for the holiday and flew to California, Taiwan, and the Philippines. Again, I made the mistake of booking too many flights. I believe we counted 10 in a month, two of which were 10-13 hours long. Oof.</div>
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Despite the tantrums, shifting sleep schedules, and awful jetlag, it was worth it. 2015 was a big year for me in terms of adjustment to motherhood and work-life balance. It was not easy. There were rough patches and more than a handful of times that I wanted to quit my job. But we made it through the year. In some ways this trip felt like a celebration of what we have been through and what we can do as a family. While this trip, along with the others we made in the year, did not help my precarious daily balancing act, it reminded me that parenthood is what we make of it and M will be a happier, healthier child if her mother is thriving.</div>
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I have not made resolutions in years. For the year ahead, I have two concrete goals, apart from the "usual" (i.e., respect boundaries between work and personal life, travel, own my work). The first: to navigate an international move with my family, which will happen in a little over a month and which I am trying to do very carefully. The second: to grow into my new role at work, but in a way that allows me to carve out more time with my family. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-77488931685680690722015-07-19T08:24:00.001-07:002015-07-19T08:33:03.191-07:00Panama<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do folks blog anymore? These spaces have been so quiet, recently with a few of my favorite blogs closing. I guess many of us who want to document life via social media moved to less intensive forms of documentation, like Instagram, long ago. But I'm finding more and more that I want to write in this space, even if it's just a picture and a few words about how the month treated me - not that I have a lot of time. </div>
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Today, with M asleep and the sun too hot for me to want to venture outside for too long, I want to write a few words about our trip to Panama, which we planned as a stopover en route to California. In her first year, we've clocked a decent amount of mileage domestically with M, but this was our first international trip as a family. </div>
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Traveling with an 11-month old child was fun, as well as challenging. Gone are the days where I can pack a small suitcase and be out the door with minimal planning. Baby infrastructure is needed, if only for ease of mind. Thankfully, M traveled so well. She was happy and curious as we explored Panama City and enjoyed the attention of the many strangers she came across. She handled the bus rides, taxi rides, and metro/subway rides like a champ. She even tried Panamanian food. Perhaps most importantly, she tolerated the 5 flights we scheduled over a period of 2 weeks. (Not to self: That's too many flights.) </div>
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There were, of course, rough patches, including shifting sleeping schedules. Also, flights with a curious baby are exhausting!<br />
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If time permits, I'll post more about Panama City and Boquete, our two stops in Panama. </div>
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<br />Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-29554096920234782072015-07-01T12:00:00.004-07:002015-07-01T12:00:27.593-07:00M.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love you.Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-33568668499414735342015-06-05T09:11:00.004-07:002015-06-05T09:14:35.172-07:00Life lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The last few months have not been easy. The cumulative fatigue--the lack of a good night's sleep for nearly 11 months--has caught up with me. In addition, there's a lot of tension at the office and an increasing workload that coincides with my deceasing motivation (or you could see it as my stricter enforcement of boundaries between work and life). I am working on a project that focuses more on research and writing, a nice change of pace. I do wish, however, that I could take on more complaints/cases, but I also know from experience that providing legal support to a group in another country would require frequent travel, particularly where dispute resolution is involved. And right now, I'm okay staying at home for most of the time.</div>
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Motherhood has also presented challenges, but overall it has brought me so much joy. Some weeks, I'm startled by how much M is changing into a being with a personality. A few weeks ago, she added "mama" to her vocabulary, which consisted of "hi" and "dada." She also started very clearly mimicking my tone and even some of my gestures. </div>
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In July, we'll celebrate her first birthday. It is insane how writing/saying that chokes me up. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-5934760637954866012015-05-06T07:20:00.003-07:002015-05-06T21:12:30.013-07:00Images from Joburg<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thank you for the nice comments and messages in response to my last post. Although I still struggle with finding time to be in this space, I do want to continue this documentation. I'm thankful for the support of this small blogging community.<br />
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And so: </div>
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I spent about a week in Johannesburg, South Africa in early February. It was the first time I was away from Madeleine. I felt guilty being away from her. But despite the lingering guilt, that trip was really good for me. In addition to providing me the best sleep I have had in the past 9.5 months, that trip also gave me an opportunity to be around incredible advocates from all over the world, strategizing, plotting and drawing links between our work. My heart was on fire. I was reminded of how the work I am doing from DC fits into the bigger picture. </div>
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That trip also forced me to accept that being outside and working outside of DC is a necessity for me. There is a lot to enjoy about our lives in DC. I am conscious of the many things, all the small pleasures associated with daily life, that I would miss. But I feel just as strongly as I did two years ago, when I first moved: I don't want to settle here - <i>we</i> don't want to settle here. I want to be back working in Asia. Since Johannesburg, there have been opportunities presented that would allow my family to move back abroad. I don't intend to make a move in near future, but Ethan and I are looking ahead. (And that is a reminder to myself as to why I keep this space anonymous!)</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-73670546742355844322015-02-14T13:03:00.000-08:002015-02-14T13:17:49.528-08:00Portland recap and this space<br />
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Well, hello. I haven't checked into this space in a while. It's not for lack of trying, but I admit it has been a struggle to keep up this work-life-baby balance. Most days, I prioritize any extra minutes of sleep I can sneak in.</div>
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Briefly, since last time, there's been a lot of just daily life, a trip to Portland (evidence above) and even a trip to Johannesburg, South Africa.</div>
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There's so much I want to write in this space. At the same time, I've often thought about shutting down this blog. I started it nearly five years ago, at a time when I thought it was important to document the mental and emotional preparation for a big move abroad. And I'm so glad I did. Blogging forced me to take stock of both the small and big moments in the past five years, colors, shapes and emotions I would have strained to remember today. Through this space, I can remember what it felt like the first day I stepped foot in Phnom Penh, the cacophony of motorbikes, and the gravity of the idea, slowly settling on me, that this dusty city would be my home. I can recall the first moments I realized I loved this strange international human rights thing - that feeling of having my heart on fire; the crescendo of emotion when I realized I fell in love with Ethan; our travels; our moves to Thailand and eventually back Stateside.</div>
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But I've been in DC for nearly two years! How?! And I'm not often inspired to document life here. Hah. That sounds horrible but it's the truth. </div>
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That's not entirely true. I am inspired to document M's life and motherhood, as I stumble along. I wonder, though, if this is the place to do it. Shouldn't I avoid pictures of her (like the one above) in the public domain? Does this make me a bad mother? I joke, but I'm somewhat serious. Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-5188743869963478932015-01-18T15:58:00.001-08:002015-01-18T16:05:51.265-08:00The sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We took M to Los Angeles (and Portland) for a three-week holiday. I'm still thinking of the time spent with my family in California, the sunshine, the ocean, the tamale-filled festivities. One day, while staying at my sister's house, we walked to the neighborhood <span class="st">pokē</span> restaurant. It was a breezy 80 degree day, in late December. I stared up at the towering palm trees and my thoughts swirled around how cold it must be in DC. </div>
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I always enjoy time with family but, with M now in our lives, those interactions take on another level of meaning for me (sorry if that sounds blow-hardy). I'm starting to wonder if I would be fine with my daughter seeing her cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents -- in many ways, her (and my) cultural anchors - once or twice a year tops. I'm not so sure. Yet, I'm not exactly ready to move back to California either.<br />
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There are other things I'm thinking about, some more frivolous than others, but someone is calling for me.<br />
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And my time is up. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-74080038680933885302014-12-26T07:30:00.000-08:002014-12-26T07:59:10.846-08:00Documenting a walk (drive): An afternoon in B'more<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A few weekends ago, we drove up to Baltimore to visit Stu, who hadn't yet met Madeleine. We brunched at Woodberry Kitchen, a cavernous space in a renovated mill. I was not disappointed - it lived up to the hype. It was also such a baby-friendly restaurant, which seems like a rarity these days, at least in this country. We then enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee at Artifact before driving back to the city. M is a fairly happy baby, particularly in the morning, but her temperament and level of patience take a sharp decline as we edge toward early evening. We squeeze in all the roaming around, errands and coffee dates in the mornings and early afternoons. It helps keep me sane. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-49514753200383014592014-12-14T13:43:00.000-08:002014-12-14T13:43:22.843-08:00Recent acquisitions: Embracing mom pants <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Earlier in the year, I committed to listing out monthly acquisitions - if only to hold myself accountable and to curb spending habits. </div>
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I failed. I haven't listed anything in months, even though I have been fairly active with internet purchases. I should have known that pregnancy and post-pregnancy would do a number on my spending - with my changing body shape, pre and post-partum hormones shifts and late nights/early mornings spent comforting an infant, I was bound to make a few irrational internet purchases. I'm not going to list every single purchase here. That would be far too embarrassing.</div>
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But I will say that my purchases of late have been spurred on by my realization that my too-precious silk numbers aren't going to work, at least for now. <br />
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<li>I've wholeheartedly jumped on the Ace & wagon. It's funny. I first heard of Ace & Jig when I still lived in Cambodia and back then I could not justify the prices, not when I could make linen/cotton shift dresses in Russian Market. In retrospect and objectively, my gut instinct was probably right. But when I finally purchased a piece, I realized how beautiful the textiles were and how wearable. I was sucked into the hype. These pieces aren't cheap, however, and I don't see them becoming more affordable in light of the the growing cult following, particularly from moms. Bottomline: I need to ease up. </li>
<li>For the last year I've also been itching for a new pant silhouette. Can you believe I've been wearing skinny jeans for over 10 years? While I still wear a black skinny jean regularly, I also welcomed two pairs of slouchy Black Crane pants into my rotation. I must say I'm loving the elastic waist and looser fit. I wear the quilt pants at least two times a week. I also own the carpenter pants in olive, but that pair doesn't get as much use. </li>
<li>As for shoes, I rotate between three pairs of boots: the Rachel Comey Mars (for days I don't intend to walk very far); the Dieppa Restrepo Mer boots; and the IM Dicker boots, a "maternity" purchase from last year. To my credit, these are not new purchases. </li>
</ul>
</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-10861834463852094252014-12-09T18:24:00.001-08:002014-12-09T18:28:12.997-08:00Thanksgiving holiday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGi2CsQu3UkTydNIQeejCJ0UgKE4t_E2L_SP4no2psI9YohSd_eJYN5WyeYtCcGDWHbVvZtdTHzDkey-ygK6v1vKElCwWU9ReazpYNEduogRnkQ4YoIGmru23qCjKLOU9iCxnF_DjTKcn-/s1600/DSC_0182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGi2CsQu3UkTydNIQeejCJ0UgKE4t_E2L_SP4no2psI9YohSd_eJYN5WyeYtCcGDWHbVvZtdTHzDkey-ygK6v1vKElCwWU9ReazpYNEduogRnkQ4YoIGmru23qCjKLOU9iCxnF_DjTKcn-/s1600/DSC_0182.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I realize I use this space to whine about some of the realities of motherhood. Today, I'm thinking about how tired I am, how I'm still not sleeping well, how I don't quite fit into my old clothes, and how postpartum hair loss is horrible, if not scary.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think it throws friends when they ask me how I am doing and I launch into my grievances. I see the look on their faces. But that is what's going on, dear friends. Yes, I love my daughter, fiercely. Her smiles make me forget (for a while) some of the difficulties of motherhood. And life is richer, in ways I didn't understand before.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
But I'm not one to sugarcoat things and some days I surprise myself with my ability to get out of bed, get dressed and pretend to be functional, maybe even mildly coherent. Today was not one of those days. I stayed at home in my pajamas while taking conference calls. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This post was about Thanksgiving in Colorado: There was snow and family. I didn't bring my work computer. I didn't think about human rights or the uphill battle we face. It was great. And, speaking of M's smiles, here's one that melts my heart.</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-23643740186248228562014-11-25T19:36:00.001-08:002014-11-25T19:37:42.285-08:00A year later<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6_BspM3l6R0TCeZI1b8nCsCBw7lUp3qMRLNol_GpocFCpiccCtNzqzg8mw4l_EGkOyG1m1HndRHol_1va3kfjEJ5wA7nk_j9-rUdXOOt3zfkkLySU1ENTnEKu3DPrA5uhiggwtC8VSeO/s1600/DSC_0156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6_BspM3l6R0TCeZI1b8nCsCBw7lUp3qMRLNol_GpocFCpiccCtNzqzg8mw4l_EGkOyG1m1HndRHol_1va3kfjEJ5wA7nk_j9-rUdXOOt3zfkkLySU1ENTnEKu3DPrA5uhiggwtC8VSeO/s1600/DSC_0156.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
My little sister (above) flew out yesterday, after spending two weeks with us. Tomorrow, M takes her first flight, to Colorado, where she will be surrounded by more family -- hopefully I can catch up on well-needed sleep and finally get over this nagging cough.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
There's so much to be thankful for this year. Last Thanksgiving holiday was a difficult one. I alluded to many things, but never really wrote about everything. In addition to my aunt's sudden death and some upheaval at work, this time last year I discovered I was pregnant, only to suffer what I believed to be an unequivocal miscarriage mere days after my discovery. I was devastated. I remember flying out to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving that day and how the airport seemed to swarm with babies. Once in Wisconsin I remember confiding in Ethan's grandmother Megan, a petite woman who, with her steely eyes, sternly told me that this would pass, that women dig deep to find the strength to keep trying.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, a few delayed doctor appointments (and a few weeks of sickness) later, I discovered that I was, in fact, still pregnant. </div>
<br />
I didn't write about it then because it felt too close. I carried it with me, even through the pregnancy, a little secret, a nagging fear. But I've always tried to be honest in this space.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it's crazy that a year later I will be flying with my little squishy daughter. Motherhood is difficult, but I am so grateful for the presence of her in my life, and for the love of my incredible family and friends. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-75740182935675128932014-11-03T16:25:00.001-08:002014-11-03T16:25:06.383-08:00My balancing act<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kaQ8UKPq9d7_96PeyvI1NJwND-0eulg_lAlkzKgMYIrCsNI4B9OClHRKtBeLyuT6O91GJC7r1oznTr7F5aUE7cgbOksCGrwvlCIdyV9Osdc0SpoCXEFcRNxWg3W_lqSa0ZYkaCkF8NZb/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kaQ8UKPq9d7_96PeyvI1NJwND-0eulg_lAlkzKgMYIrCsNI4B9OClHRKtBeLyuT6O91GJC7r1oznTr7F5aUE7cgbOksCGrwvlCIdyV9Osdc0SpoCXEFcRNxWg3W_lqSa0ZYkaCkF8NZb/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I took this picture of M when she wasn't yet two months old, when I was still on maternity leave and the days seemed to stretch out before me. <br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I went back to work in October, during a pretty full-on week. But thanks my fabulous my in-laws, who flew into the city and
hovered around my meetings so that I could nurse M every few hours, I survived that hectic time. At more than one point in the week, I felt
overwhelmed, out of sync, and ready to quit my job! But I pushed
through. One afternoon late in the week, I found myself seated at a
table with two human rights defenders from Guatemala. As we discussed
their case, I remembered why I fell in love with this work to begin
with. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't know how this work/life balance thing will ultimately pan
out, but I hope I can strike a healthy medium. Right now, my attempt at balance includes a mix of working a (very) slightly reduced schedule, leaving the office at 3:30pm most days, working remotely, and carving out time to spend lunch with M everyday. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the things that causes me the most anxiety now is something that I have thrived upon - namely, international travel. I've managed to push off any international travel this year. There was the three-day trip to London that I jumped on and immediately backed off of once M was born. On the horizon is a meeting that keeps getting pushed back. Initially scheduled for Thailand, then India, the meeting will now either be held "somewhere in Africa," in Turkey, or in Thailand. I won't be able to escape that trip, but I'm hoping that by the time I go - for a week - M will be a little older. And then, there's the work trip to Nepal that keeps getting pushed back (indefinitely) and Peru, which will happen next October.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is the longest period of time I've been grounded without international travel, and I crave a new stamp on my passport - but not yet, not if it means being apart from her, and not when she is so little. A dream I have, someday, is to travel across the world with her, or at least to a few far-flung places. I think fondly back to the French father-daughter pair I met in a ger in Mongolia. She, a blonde bubble of energy, was on her gap year. Father and daughter met in Mongolia for a three week tour of the Gobi Desert, after which she would travel to Nepal alone. I remember their talks, his encouraging words to her about hiking in Nepal, of the Annapurna trail dotted with tea houses. </div>
<br />
That's the dream, but baby steps first. Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-53464849899018711352014-10-23T08:06:00.000-07:002014-10-23T08:06:27.106-07:00Distractions<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_dvDOvLtYPokMQV1xIn7jHnbQHLv0z7lepwGkqSRzvcdPAX7tq0RLBhvjW1p1g6IbZv99O-hBvZzAvz64hDz88VgRCrcpywpjjlADHpyLcPG8eq8hoOrxU6txpOgL6XmsCeHOVmvwt18/s1600/a265e7d5bc36738e5c66bffef41c3581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_dvDOvLtYPokMQV1xIn7jHnbQHLv0z7lepwGkqSRzvcdPAX7tq0RLBhvjW1p1g6IbZv99O-hBvZzAvz64hDz88VgRCrcpywpjjlADHpyLcPG8eq8hoOrxU6txpOgL6XmsCeHOVmvwt18/s1600/a265e7d5bc36738e5c66bffef41c3581.jpg" height="640" width="446" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PPHJhsHoDGevEvKsvLIjhnBPobNVtii9zr2wcJhvtOYvjKO2hbTPV6SQhjKnsOmxSHNrvMTpjIS9Ofl0RkOQ3b6lqRH8d6VYLtge5i9PIug6Qe5_H6FJ-46O5EJtFV1KxZLx4yOpjYzF/s1600/0bbe6aa951555901950a751eb8822115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PPHJhsHoDGevEvKsvLIjhnBPobNVtii9zr2wcJhvtOYvjKO2hbTPV6SQhjKnsOmxSHNrvMTpjIS9Ofl0RkOQ3b6lqRH8d6VYLtge5i9PIug6Qe5_H6FJ-46O5EJtFV1KxZLx4yOpjYzF/s1600/0bbe6aa951555901950a751eb8822115.jpg" height="640" width="446" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
images <a href="http://bohem.co/">via </a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm exhausted and a little ragged from attempting this whole work/life/baby balance thing. Frivolous distractions are welcome. Plus, aren't they healthy at this point? Rugs from <a href="http://bohem.co/">Bohem</a>.</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-84839597085642341372014-10-23T07:41:00.000-07:002014-10-23T08:09:15.730-07:00Checking in and looking back<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1D0ptQZmtWjYzApYwXwNQrAD4no4wiBZdvsPfuz2k_trOBWNArFgcivgyclCVRuLFALa3sa_HZcOcSKBAs7-pugLrFX9iK8VanPZ2HXjF6TqQO_bTPJYajSrJmZOcqbBtz7-SGkl8p9_o/s1600/IMG_3141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1D0ptQZmtWjYzApYwXwNQrAD4no4wiBZdvsPfuz2k_trOBWNArFgcivgyclCVRuLFALa3sa_HZcOcSKBAs7-pugLrFX9iK8VanPZ2HXjF6TqQO_bTPJYajSrJmZOcqbBtz7-SGkl8p9_o/s1600/IMG_3141.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm happy to report that I survived yet another crazy week of meetings. As is often the case with these chaotic weeks, friends and colleagues from all over the world flew into the city. This time, Ratha, with whom I spent many tedious hours in the countryside of Cambodia, was in town to discuss her research on agribusiness in northern Cambodia. She came with news from Phnom Penh - mainly bad news. The small team I previously worked with faced threats of arrest from authorities (not surprising), but this time several staff were arrested, though eventually released. If I was still in Cambodia, I would certainly have been one of those arrested.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ratha's arrival also gave me pause to look back. The picture above is one that she took during a challenging week of research in Sihanoukville. There is probably a filter on this picture, but I swear the sunsets I remember, especially on that coast, were always bathed in some stunning, unreal light. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
This picture was taken during a very demanding, fast-paced month. At the time, our research team faced threats of arrest, so we moved our work to Sihanoukville, another province. The team, exhausted most days, bickered on and off, with a divide increasingly occurring between the Khmer and foreign staff. I stood in the middle. Days after that work trip, there was the elaborate Khmer wedding in the countryside, at the pepper plantation. And then a few days later, I joined others for a lovely weekend in Koh Kong, at the <a href="http://www.rainbowlodgecambodia.com/">Rainbow Lodge Eco Resort</a>, to celebrate a friend's 30th birthday. There was hiking and leeches, laughter, and sun-bathing. That same month, Ethan had left to meet his family in Europe. It was the longest time we'd been apart since we met. A few weeks later
Ethan would travel east, and I west, and we would meet in Almaty,
Kazakhstan. It took me three separate flights to get to Almaty. I remember it feeling like forever.</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-57276798299305394972014-09-17T15:41:00.001-07:002014-09-17T16:24:41.750-07:00A taste of BKK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsWgFbPG2PgXGQdnVZ_l9CCDp10ljNU66spW5dftdKPyaB6dTjtv5oKFneywRzHdrzBdNqetTk7V2y_w2_zvoDEgNHqfRvJkOH7DR9ZuevMYc0uqr8AoISM82tdz3dNkYB0IyzHU8TqV3/s1600/DSC_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsWgFbPG2PgXGQdnVZ_l9CCDp10ljNU66spW5dftdKPyaB6dTjtv5oKFneywRzHdrzBdNqetTk7V2y_w2_zvoDEgNHqfRvJkOH7DR9ZuevMYc0uqr8AoISM82tdz3dNkYB0IyzHU8TqV3/s1600/DSC_0053.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQx9btb0_dqSwQMqife_lF2FwqN0LzvcjqjvGmUT-WEosh5MwklFqGZ8hq7KmAMidVi8CF0TfhM0tpgpkUQX_kyJm1CmRhuq6Xswd1Mp3qtx-ae48RBNm01M9ecwtxHKc08SniXafUXV59/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQx9btb0_dqSwQMqife_lF2FwqN0LzvcjqjvGmUT-WEosh5MwklFqGZ8hq7KmAMidVi8CF0TfhM0tpgpkUQX_kyJm1CmRhuq6Xswd1Mp3qtx-ae48RBNm01M9ecwtxHKc08SniXafUXV59/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG" height="640" width="424" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQYCx5aWHVSRWOpxX4Hfeh3vPfnZkPJxxG3P8teHjpzhlVlEpgSYLvtInDnjW5q-WebL8eEJOPRxx2XU-PfOVm0KkNGu0ozAsq0B-76a-qFoI3xR9VUEnsh9O9UWC-sQgPjl3m9DY-e7q/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQYCx5aWHVSRWOpxX4Hfeh3vPfnZkPJxxG3P8teHjpzhlVlEpgSYLvtInDnjW5q-WebL8eEJOPRxx2XU-PfOVm0KkNGu0ozAsq0B-76a-qFoI3xR9VUEnsh9O9UWC-sQgPjl3m9DY-e7q/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
September is flying by. It's difficult to imagine that this picture was taken over two weeks ago, on a day we found ourselves in Fairfax, Virginia. I was desperate for a cup of coffee and we stumbled into this cafe, which turned out not to be a coffee shop but a Thai restaurant and one that, with its decor and soft music, transported me back to the many small eateries on the streets of Bangkok.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Even more difficult to imagine is that I will be back to work in a few short weeks. I'll be greeted by <a href="http://anchorsadrift.blogspot.com/2013/10/another-post-on-istanbul.html">one of those crazy caffeinated weeks</a> at a certain international institution. I've been stewing, disheartened by my maternity leave options, or lack therof. I'm with an organization that has worked on international human rights for many years and yet I had to fight to get more paid leave. I also fought for more unpaid leave and lost that battle. And while I admit we're fortunate enough to have the resources where I could work very part-time for a while, I have no job protection if I choose to do so - and thus, I will be going back to work earlier than I had planned.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the past weeks, I've wondered several times if we made the right choice to move back to the US. I know we did, but it's not easy to reconcile that conclusion with the realization that I would have better maternity leave options (and easier access to affordable daycare) abroad. I think back to the position I was vying for before this DC position came up. It was with an international group based in Paris and would have had me ping-ponging between Bangkok and Paris. Interesting, but not ideal for motherhood. Yet, I am certain my maternity leave options would have been far more favorable. But in the end, I didn't make the final cut, so it's a moot point. </div>
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How do women do it?Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-23173285996220021482014-09-13T16:36:00.000-07:002014-09-13T16:37:54.683-07:00Dieppa Restrepo, blue suede<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BFMoOQPURtsWDCFmYpRlHLRwNZr5ZcjcgxcDy57Sdsa6abp7cjyOvg6eT-Obd1a17SQFUPENqPd3uPDcV6xFQeDgAwo1CrTyJDOgnlYNNlwYJznIdvxN7ABq45APQmUPgWqYk8mQcI0q/s1600/DSC_5507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BFMoOQPURtsWDCFmYpRlHLRwNZr5ZcjcgxcDy57Sdsa6abp7cjyOvg6eT-Obd1a17SQFUPENqPd3uPDcV6xFQeDgAwo1CrTyJDOgnlYNNlwYJznIdvxN7ABq45APQmUPgWqYk8mQcI0q/s1600/DSC_5507.JPG" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://nid-tokyo.blogspot.com/2012/11/product0354-my-beautiful-landlet-edwina.html">via N id Tokyo</a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dark blue suede boots from Dieppa Restrepo - a departure from my usual cognac colored boots, but surprisingly versatile. If I've learned anything from living (and walking so much) in this city, it's that flat boots are key.</div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-63646978429702147622014-08-31T14:16:00.002-07:002014-10-25T14:45:03.640-07:00today<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJi2e3X2-aocFYqi0OCk2uHJREPSLl3-zxBqNUSWRL72av5xa-qhBLmJUvDGjBvj0nDAiK-AQe6XTl_toUPFEMBchrFdlUoKhDbKKToYpJ9J_UCnfRMeqapE8Qvvd59UpQ5FemReylwB4/s1600/DSC_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJi2e3X2-aocFYqi0OCk2uHJREPSLl3-zxBqNUSWRL72av5xa-qhBLmJUvDGjBvj0nDAiK-AQe6XTl_toUPFEMBchrFdlUoKhDbKKToYpJ9J_UCnfRMeqapE8Qvvd59UpQ5FemReylwB4/s1600/DSC_0028.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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So tired.<br />
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And it's the last day of August. HOW? Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-27239606945943037572014-08-23T13:04:00.002-07:002014-08-23T13:06:09.537-07:00From the morning market<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6QiW9j6UzpOpAMgK1mnpgH4E8JcxliQwnNgJjowzlXNMJK_eTXIdnAc4AJ9DmED-yFf5oLvvNklrg_uPV2YZ8Zm-pj4bDhwlu0TY3we90OcCfwguC8_AUZ3WdBxBVlHbxuoE-B_MAj_h/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6QiW9j6UzpOpAMgK1mnpgH4E8JcxliQwnNgJjowzlXNMJK_eTXIdnAc4AJ9DmED-yFf5oLvvNklrg_uPV2YZ8Zm-pj4bDhwlu0TY3we90OcCfwguC8_AUZ3WdBxBVlHbxuoE-B_MAj_h/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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Flowers to brighten our home on this rainy day. I don't want summer to end, not just yet. Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-61004604098254651672014-08-22T06:56:00.000-07:002014-10-25T14:46:07.295-07:00Strawyberry-Rhubarb Goodness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcx_ntB0i6osrRNrjkG4utW42pbB72JCxksAXMAXC7QxR2VdyhthnHmVqO435OBSkFoXMMYRR77AlCtV1rm37P-XC8Ol8Ed5LqI-zkdazSPJfVfYlwG3VO3WY4ng-Dqsjp_FCiz5XRw91/s1600/IMG_2424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcx_ntB0i6osrRNrjkG4utW42pbB72JCxksAXMAXC7QxR2VdyhthnHmVqO435OBSkFoXMMYRR77AlCtV1rm37P-XC8Ol8Ed5LqI-zkdazSPJfVfYlwG3VO3WY4ng-Dqsjp_FCiz5XRw91/s1600/IMG_2424.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7oRbj3jSuCdyXErfYxV2Y8NnVigA64Qn_qkBTpJshEx9sMvstV5JxaffsE-Ud2caT_f3ebAvfoOhGvWpEsyTpkxrwSj3xjUAkQ56BGgAv6tRHTRyJH943xhrOoJNggBpubz_bNWlMjNG/s1600/IMG_2426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7oRbj3jSuCdyXErfYxV2Y8NnVigA64Qn_qkBTpJshEx9sMvstV5JxaffsE-Ud2caT_f3ebAvfoOhGvWpEsyTpkxrwSj3xjUAkQ56BGgAv6tRHTRyJH943xhrOoJNggBpubz_bNWlMjNG/s1600/IMG_2426.JPG" height="462" width="640" /></a></div>
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This was in late June. That's a very pregnant me, after I waddled half a block to the farmers market. I bought rhubarb and strawberries, and I made this compote.<b> </b>So good.<br />
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<a href="http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2013/05/strawberry-rhubarb-compote-recipe/"><b><u>David Lebovitz's Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote</u></b></a><br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b> <br />
<blockquote>
<ul class="ingredient_list">
<li class="ingredient">1 ¼ cups (310 ml) water
</li>
<li class="ingredient">1 ¼ cups (310 ml) dry or sweet white wine
</li>
<li class="ingredient">5 slices (15 g) fresh ginger, unpeeled
</li>
<li class="ingredient">½ cup (100 g) sugar
</li>
<li class="ingredient">1/3-1/2 cup (100 - 160 g) honey
</li>
<li class="ingredient">2-pounds (1 kg) rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 3-inch batons, about 1/2 –inch wide
</li>
<li class="ingredient">1 pound (450 g) strawberries, hulled and quartered
</li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
<b>Instructions</b> <br />
<blockquote>
In a large saucepan, heat the water, wine, ginger, sugar, and honey (use the
smaller amount if you think you might want it less-sweet.) </blockquote>
<blockquote>
When all the sugar is dissolved and the syrup is simmering, add
the rhubarb and let the rhubarb cook in the simmering syrup until it’s
just softened, which may take as little as 5 minutes, depending on the
rhubarb. Remove from heat and add the strawberries. When cool, pluck out the ginger slices. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Serve warm or room temperature. </blockquote>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-52552234329696262262014-08-22T06:36:00.000-07:002014-10-25T14:46:32.136-07:00On Privilege<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UyMKsE6bpHXY8TOdiLSNaD-ZRJa7E8jtWSTBcJ5uMuRjtRX2e1nKx5_xVfFQVxWKTu9vU836ziVT1UVzFj1zXsL51gpBt8ykcp5kSdTadnQb8hJff6HilW8hlSsXO51yME2hBTtzmXsm/s1600/DSCF3188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UyMKsE6bpHXY8TOdiLSNaD-ZRJa7E8jtWSTBcJ5uMuRjtRX2e1nKx5_xVfFQVxWKTu9vU836ziVT1UVzFj1zXsL51gpBt8ykcp5kSdTadnQb8hJff6HilW8hlSsXO51yME2hBTtzmXsm/s1600/DSCF3188.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early days in Cambodia, on one of the monitoring trips</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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No one told me the early months of motherhood would be this difficult. I simply had no clue. But we're adjusting to sleep deprivation and slowly a routine - a new normalcy - is emerging. And with that difficulty, there's also a lot of joy, which helps.</div>
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My mornings - just when M falls back asleep and the light is out - are precious moments for me, minutes when I am (relatively) awake and I can think about things other than feedings, the daycare search, minutes that I can waste on thoughts of autumn layers and flat boots, on the world that existed before motherhood.</div>
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This morning, I thought of the string of emails I received - actually, just as I was in labor! They were from two families of Vietnamese Montagnard refugees I worked with in Bangkok. Fleeing from religious persecution in Vietnam, they made their way to Cambodia first, then Thailand, where they would settle (illegally, as with all refugees in Thailand). Theirs was a story that went back 7 years, with numerous rejections of refugee status by the UN, detention in Bangkok, release, and then the precarious life of a refugee not being able to lawfully live/work in their country of refuge. Extortion by police is not uncommon. I had helped with a re-opening request to the UN (the third one, as their files had been closed), and the day of the email, they had finally received their refugee certificates. </div>
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It was such fantastic news. I could imagine their faces and those of the children.</div>
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When I left Bangkok, there were others whose cases were still pending. I didn't write about their stories then because it felt so close. I still think about the Iranian man, detained in jail for political activities, tortured, raped. He was seeking an appeal. Did he ever get it? I think often about the Muslim Pakistani woman forced to have an abortion by her tribe because she fell in love with and married a Christian. What became of her? And what of the woman from Cameroon, who fled her country with her daughter who faced genital mutilation? The Palestinians displaced from their refugee camps in Syria, who bought a visa to Thailand not knowing how long it would take to be recognized as refugees and how arduous daily life could be in Thailand for a family waiting out resettlement?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the things that struck me in my travels was just how privileged I was to be an American citizen. In Cambodia, on monitoring trips where arrest was possible, I knew that my passport would provide a level of protection. Same thing when I was in Burma on one of those frequent middle-of-the-night military checkpoints, where you're scooted off the bus and required to stand in line to be interrogated. In the international work travel that is sure to follow this fall or winter, I will be working on human rights issues in difficult contexts, again with the protection of my passport. </div>
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<br /></div>
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And, I'm aware this privilege came at no cost to me, really. My grandfather was the one who made the journey in the 1920s. He was alone, 16 years old. He toiled as a migrant worker until his retirement. Once a US citizen, he went back to the Philippines, where I was ultimately born. For me, it was never a question of "if" but "when" I would move to the US to claim my citizenship. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-35228635955868598762014-08-15T10:26:00.000-07:002014-08-19T07:26:57.011-07:00Slipping away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pT_RmwFWSeVyKCKua2PbLbCraN0yn2t0Ovo8ReVgIqcpYqb2u_sHpCos5xxvNoxDeqkUWB3HtOEhRkEZmRhR2nypkVwQHykADeHAbGIQunN_GlKoJYwzRuZjavUIQaeF1Bn7oxu6qm4j/s1600/DSC_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pT_RmwFWSeVyKCKua2PbLbCraN0yn2t0Ovo8ReVgIqcpYqb2u_sHpCos5xxvNoxDeqkUWB3HtOEhRkEZmRhR2nypkVwQHykADeHAbGIQunN_GlKoJYwzRuZjavUIQaeF1Bn7oxu6qm4j/s1600/DSC_0046.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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In the early months of summer, the sunflower patch on my block barely had any flowers. Now, in mid-August, the flowers are out, some wilting away. I cannot believe the final weeks of summer are here. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had misguided notions about what maternity leave would look like --that I'd have plenty of time for reading and trips to the cafe, that I'd be able to keep up with what is going on with the outside world. Since M's arrival, my world has felt much smaller. Today, we managed to take a walk around our neighborhood in the early evening. We came across the trickle of people coming home from work. I felt out of sync. </div>
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<br />Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-60226878883114062162014-08-10T16:52:00.001-07:002014-08-10T16:52:53.758-07:00Sale Alert: Dieppa Restrepo Camilla Boots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxprpQUYS7cy0rwEAQCF99ZPZpoFbu-M46e1bU8yCwssTpZ2mFeSmvmEWLaoVgUjhn-U2FoDOKjNfq15zET6Lr8kbEAuqCsRvjdSo8vSDQ6wBRhaBgvEAdqVnhFuW773X_NS0t82Mh4BT/s1600/burgundy_bootie_1_1024x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxprpQUYS7cy0rwEAQCF99ZPZpoFbu-M46e1bU8yCwssTpZ2mFeSmvmEWLaoVgUjhn-U2FoDOKjNfq15zET6Lr8kbEAuqCsRvjdSo8vSDQ6wBRhaBgvEAdqVnhFuW773X_NS0t82Mh4BT/s1600/burgundy_bootie_1_1024x1024.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://shopprettymommy.myshopify.com/products/dieppa-restrepo-camilla-boot-eclipse">via</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
A pair of Dieppa Restrepo boots for $98. Not a bad deal.<br />
<br />
Maternity leave has really exacerbated my online (window) shopping habit. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-66315135235109379262014-08-08T16:46:00.000-07:002014-10-25T14:45:35.798-07:00Russian chocolates<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The day before I went into labor, Ethan and I celebrated our one year anniversary. In lieu of how we imagined we would celebrate (a trip to <span class="st">Kyrgyzstan</span>, camping in a yurt), we instead spent the day doing more low-key activities--namely, buying houseplants, eating at our favorite Sichuanese restaurant in the Maryland 'burbs, and visiting a few of the adjacent "ethnic" grocery stores, one of which was a Russian/post-Soviet Imperium grocery store. There, we came across these chocolates, which I encountered in many grocery stores in Russia. I remember bringing these home as souvenirs for friends in Portland.<br />
<br />
That trip feels like a lifetime ago. I think often of that trip. I guess it could have been any trip. Replace the Tran-Siberian with a trip to Italy or Chile - whatever. That trip marked an inflection point in my life; so much changed after that time.<br />
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One of the surprising things I've found about motherhood is that it has strengthened my resolve to live/work abroad again. Moving abroad again has always been our plan, but there's another dimension to it now. When I found out I was pregnant, my mind clung to an image of me, Ethan and our child in Cambodia or another country. Perhaps it's because that's where this story began (where Ethan and I met and fell in love). Perhaps it's because I was exposed to many expat mothers raising their families in Cambodia, Thailand, elsewhere. And/or, perhaps I'm clinging to a way of life that may no longer fit. I'm not sure; it's probably a mix of all three.<br />
<br />
With M's arrival, Ethan and I talk a lot about living abroad again. It pains our families to hear that we plan to move abroad with M in a few years. While life certainly has its twists and turns, I hope that when the right opportunity presents itself, we will have the courage to go through with the move.<br />
<br />
But that won't happen for a few years, I think. And right now, there's a lot to relish about life in DC. </div>
Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341736620237447504.post-27518134959229198952014-07-23T13:46:00.001-07:002014-07-23T13:46:21.250-07:00What I've Been Up To<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8Nyz04ZQkcce5swIsiSo3pHBoRmyse6Vrw5i76zhDlyf9zxootMFC6zxYoljGXzDUWIu7KfO0Wv1nEzIWBaOfkATasibGjYXBjDaF3UTMU-ldTHb6Alpwj64BxgicvM-PKEPlRl7b8in/s1600/Madeleine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8Nyz04ZQkcce5swIsiSo3pHBoRmyse6Vrw5i76zhDlyf9zxootMFC6zxYoljGXzDUWIu7KfO0Wv1nEzIWBaOfkATasibGjYXBjDaF3UTMU-ldTHb6Alpwj64BxgicvM-PKEPlRl7b8in/s1600/Madeleine.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Introducing Madeleine. Two weeks ahead of schedule. Jocyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01390360190381241408noreply@blogger.com9