Chiang Mai

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.

A taste of BKK

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.

Even more difficult to imagine is that I will be back to work in a few short weeks. I'll be greeted by one of those crazy caffeinated weeks 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.

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.

How do women do it?

Strawyberry-Rhubarb Goodness

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.  So good.

David Lebovitz's Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote

Ingredients

• 1 ¼ cups (310 ml) water
• 1 ¼ cups (310 ml) dry or sweet white wine
• 5 slices (15 g) fresh ginger, unpeeled
• ½ cup (100 g) sugar
• 1/3-1/2 cup (100 - 160 g) honey
• 2-pounds (1 kg) rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 3-inch batons, about 1/2 –inch wide
• 1 pound (450 g) strawberries, hulled and quartered

Instructions

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.)

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.

Serve warm or room temperature.

Russian chocolates

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 Kyrgyzstan, 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.

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.

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.

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.

But that won't happen for a few years, I think.  And right now, there's a lot to relish about life in DC.

Looking back

This is one of my favorite pictures of Ethan.  I took it two summers ago, when we were in Darjeeling, India. It was during that summer of travel between Indonesia, Singapore and India, the summer before we moved to Thailand.  

Drawn out by promises of proper coffee, we walked to this small restaurant. I can't remember what it was called, but it had maybe three tables.  Indeed, it served up a proper cup of coffee and a hot, hearty breakfast.  We sat at this table, staring at the foot traffic outside, the fog and cold enveloping the streets.  I don't remember what we did that day.  I probably dragged him out to afternoon tea at the Elgin Hotel. Or, maybe we took a jeep ride to another hillside town. 

I get so caught up in the pace of life in this city. Sometimes I forget all the little adventures we shared.  I don't want to forget; those experiences ground me.  Sometimes I fail to realize life in this city is itself is a little adventure for us. One day, I'll look back and miss the tree-lined streets; the bands/musicians playing in Dupont Circle, causing music to stream into my office in the late afternoon; the rowhouses jutting up towards the sky; all the bits and pieces that make this life colorful.

2013, a year in review.

January

We still lived in Bangkok.  Sigh.  This was my last trip to Chatuchak Market.

My family visited Bangkok and we played tourist.

February

One of many rooftop bars in Bangkok. What a view.

March - June

A month or two into my move to Washington DC.  Walking around the Mall.

Same day, at sunset.

July

The view from the mountain house in Colorado.  We were married in this meadow.

Sunrise in Turkey.

Exploring.

August

An afternoon of baseball.

September 

Fastfood bibimbap in Dupont Circle Park.

October

The inevitable transition to Fall.

November

Treats at the office.

December

On the Hill.

A year ago

The past few weeks have been a blur.  I forgot how crazy this season can be. There was a trip to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving, a trip to visit a friend in Baltimore this weekend, holiday parties, snow days, brunches, house hunting, and in a week from today, our trip to Los Angeles. 

This time last year, we still lived in Bangkok, Thailand.  We spent the last days of the year in Cambodia with friends, lounging in the riverside town of Kampot, then returned to Bangkok, where we toasted 2013 on the rooftop of our apartment.  It was great, but I remember aching for the holiday season and its trappings. 

I came across these pictures of Thailand.  I cannot believe it's been a year. 

Signage on the subway train.

Bangkok food courts - awesome.

At the vegetarian food festival in Chinatown with Ethan and friends.

Same as above.

Crispy, delectable, and totally addictive E-Sarn chicken and chili sauce. OH MY.

District Flea

images via

Apparently, the creators of Brooklyn Flea have started a similar operation in the District - at least for a six-week trial run.  While no Chatuchak Market in Bangkok or Black Market in Ulaanbaatar, this flea market should be a fun Saturday outing.  And what is this I hear about a kimchi grilled cheese sandwich?  An investigation is warranted.

Note to Self: At 6 months.

It's September, which means that it has been 6 months since I moved to D.C. and over a year since I left Cambodia.  How do I feel? 

The city doesn't feel as alien to me as it did those first cold months, when I was easily unsettled by the darkness of the Metro and the tired faces commuting in the evenings.  I guess you could say I'm more accustomed to the lay of the land, including what is expected of me at work.  Also, now (most days) I can stare at the gigantic world map situated on the one blue wall in my office, stare at the little spot of the Mekong region, and not cry.  During my first three months, that was not the case.

I say this to Ethan and to any friends or colleagues who listen to my circular rants:  It's incredible what an emotional tie I have to that region.  Fine, I was born in Southeast Asia and lived in that corner of the world for a few years of my life.  But I never thought I'd want to live there, work there, and miss doing so.

Cambodia holds a special place in my heart, despite my struggles there.  Thailand-and the awesome concrete jungle of Bangkok - also hosts fond memories.

This week, I shared a drink with a woman who works at a certain human rights organization.  We met in Manila last year, during one of my meetings at the Asian Development Bank.  She flies around the world - all over Europe, Asia, South America, Africa - and advocates on  behalf of communities suffering human rights abuses. (She intimidates me a little.)

She asked me if I ever cried during a meeting, and we started talking about dealing with the stresses of this work. And I was brought back to this conversation and this one. It's not so different, is it?  Amazing people in a different city, in a different country, in a different phase of my life.

In other words, I'm starting to realize this work in the District is a continuation of those experiences.  It's connected, and hopefully that will help me push through.

Hidden Lives: The Untold Story of Urban Refugees

I found this post about urban refugees in draft form.  I must have started it when I was still living in Bangkok.  Well, it's been some months since I left Thailand and ended my work with urban refugees, but only now is news trickling in about the various cases I worked on.  Some days, like today, I think about the Pakistani, Palestinian, and Syrian families I worked with:  Did the UN grant them refugee status?  Did they have any encounters with the Thai police?  Were they detained?  How are their children?    

And, does the same Rohingya man in the refugee camp still call the office, asking for help? 

This exhibit highlighted a few of our clients' stories.  

Take a look at Hidden Lives here.

Two thoughts

images via Blossom Vintage

Two thoughts tonight.

First: Blossom Vintage is a vintage shop housed in a 1970s Safari Airstream. Isn't that rad?  There's something about the idea of a woman who travels the world and collects vintage dresses that tugs at my heart strings.  I may have to check it out during my overdue trip to Los Angeles in December. 

Second:  It's only Tuesday, but it feels like Thursday, and I wish it was Friday. It must be one of those weeks. Some days, as I'm walking into these meetings with certain government agencies and international organizations, I am struck by the fact that people spend so much time talking, talking, talking in this city- me included!  Months after moving from Thailand, that entire experience still feels so removed.  And some moments--though as the months pass, these moments are less frequest-- I just want to buy a plane ticket to Bangkok or Phnom Penh, just to visit, even if only for a few days.

Fancy hash

via

In Thailand, I had one colleague who had recently moved back to Bangkok from Geneva, and she loved everything Swiss.  I recall one meal we had: rösti (potato cakes), salmon, a dollop of some delicious cream -crème fraiche, maybe?

I woke up this morning craving those fancy hash browns, so I set myself to grating, adding some sweet potato to the mix, and buttering the pan, though I've been told I should be using goose fat, unfortunately not an everyday staple in my fridge.

Final weeks in Bangkok