Don't go...you will die!

Not a lot of people know that I will be trekking Mount Everest Base Camp as my immediate plan, but for those who do, I noticed people's reaction belongs to one of two camps.

Camp 1: emotionless and without much comment, input, or feeling. They react as if I had said, " Nice weather."

Camp 2: one of these comments, a combination of these comments, or all of these comments.
"Don't go, it's so dangerous!", "You are crazy!", "Please come back in one piece!", "Are you sure?" and my favorite " You will die!"

I'm not looking for encouragement, pep talk, giddy excitement or any ego boosting spiel because one's positive or negative opinion or advice is completely indifferent to me. Basically, I don't give a hoot one way or the other if you think I can barely put my right foot in front of my left or if you think I'm Joan of Arc. I certainly can understand one's concern and fear of venturing to trek the world's highest mountain because elevation sickness has killed many hikers and climbers. This is a legitimate and reasonable concern so I totally empathized with Camp 2 people. However, I am a bit baffled and somewhat curious by the former group. Do Camp 1 people not know what Mount Everest is or they didn't hear what I said? Because it sounds too unbelievable?

When I told Carla and Jeff, my two trekking partners, that the people around me are doubters and discouraging, they both quickly came to the same conclusion: jealousy.

I suspected the same as I can see why one would be deeply jealous upon learning that someone is doing something interesting and uncommon, even extraordinary. Hiking a mountain may not be every one's cup of tea, however, having the luxury of time, not having to have to work, an adventurous spirit, excitement for an upcoming adventure, and to experience a fucking awesome once in a lifetime gig should and would make one envious assuming they have none of that in their reality but can only dream in their daydreams.

To boot, the way we three musketeers are going about it may even make one greener with envy because we are completely independent and free spirited with the truest sense of the meaning of the word: adventure. We are not joining a group with a schedule for an exorbitant fee and are lead like a herd of mountain goats. We three plan to trek from Katmandu to Jiri, the trail head for Everest, and then continue our ascent with our own packs up to base camp. This may take over a month since we plan to spend Christmas in Namche Bazaar and hang out in villages to soak in some Nepali culture with the people, village, and lifestyle. One can not get more hardcore than us. True backpackers, true adventure, true experience, and true authenticity of what it means to trek in Mount Everest, the magical snow capped Himalayas where the mythical Abominable Snowman resides.

My daughter, Fendi, was my motivation to stay safe and to return to her as a whole mother

I must come back alive in one piece and to give all the naysayer, the one who said I am over confident, the one who predicted my death, the one who thinks this and that...my middle finger as a token of my arrogance, strength, and will.

Cat is out of the bag and did I get it, did I get it?

September 20, 2011

Technically today, as I recall from the interview, I may be notified whether I am nominated or not for an upcoming assignment. Supposedly, September 15 is when the recruiting office would be informed of new job openings whereby recruiters will nominate qualified and suitable applicants for each job. I am assuming that whether I am nominated or not, I would be told by Johann. Today I didn't get a call or an e-mail. Nada.

Well, tomorrow is another day and I'll just have to wait and hope for good news. Tomorrow, Carla and I go to Oregon to visit my friend Dudley, Peter's very good friend.

The San Gorgonio backpack trip was great; I co lead the hike because the co leader bailed at the beginning of the hike due to his painful hip. This was a very good conditioning hike for the upcoming Mount Everest trek.

On the day I was to leave for the backpack trip, not surprising to me, I found out that mummsy told my brother and his wife that I applied for the Peace Corps. When I asked her what their reactions were, she said nothing. Hmmmmm...nothing, really? Debbie wouldn't be surprised but perhaps my brother would make a comment or two. An hour before I was to be picked up for carpool to the mountains, I wrote an e-mail to my bro and sis-in-law about my application to the Peace Corps. Debbie promptly responded with her encouragement of how she believed I have a lot to offer and that it would be an amazing experience. From my brother....nothing. Nada.

Continued massacre of the hair

For the upcoming Mount Everest hike and traveling 6 months in India, I gave Raffy permission again to butcher my hair. What was once upon a time a long, thick, and wavy hairstyle...the epitome of femininity, is now short and borderline butch. What I will be doing is not conducive to high beauty maintenance and moreover, for my protection and safety, it is best not to attract male attention so by design, I am altering my appearance as not to appear beautiful. My hair was a strong part of my physical identity: ultra long, highlighted with caramel, slightly layered bedhead. It was a wash and go hairstyle, a most bohemian I-don't-give-a-shit-hippy-just-had-sex look that never saw a hair brush but both men and women loved it and found it sexy as I often hear it labeled as such. Ironically, out of sheer laziness, the appeal was its au naturel look. It looked effortless because that was exactly it...no effort! Now I resemble a China town vest wearing FOB grandma or a European school kid with this very, very short bob. I feel like a feminine lesbian. Although not very pretty, I am absolutely fine with this unisex look. It's highly liberating and environmentally friendly as hair products and water will be consumed 75% less.

Over a month hiking Mount Everest with no shower, let alone hair washing, is a challenge for women. In India, electricity is sketchy and hot water is a luxury and lice a reality. This is why my locks are gone. Chop, cut, and snip...hasta la vista hair....it's comfort and convenience over beauty and attention. Also, I am preparing that should I live in a mud hut or a yurt, hair has got to be something not in the forefront of my consciousness. Some places have no electricity and running water therefore hot rollers, flattening iron and other hair accoutrement are all futile items in these part of the world. In a way, I'm "practicing" this lifestyle of anti fashion.

Chopping the hair was the best decision ever. I only took 3 showers within the 38 days of trekking Everest.

I wonder if a very short bob will look good in Indian garb as the women there all have long braided hairstyles. I realized I just made a fashion move very different from their customary look. Did I just now contradicted the whole intention? Oops....

Ten year anniversary of 9/11

September 11, 2011

Today I am to leave for Oregon but that will be postponed because an upcoming backpack trip to San Gorgonio, California's highest mountain, is most needed in order for me to be conditioned in Mount Everest.

I thought how symbolic and memorable if today I was to receive announcement of my nomination into Peace Corps. This agency stands for peace, friendship, and empowering people. If every living human would act on these principles, there wouldn't be 9/11.

Today I honored 9/11 in reflecting the mission of the Peace Corps.

The Interview

September 7, 2011

Today is the day that I've been waiting for since I applied to the Peace Corps more than a week ago.

As I am driving to the regional recruiting office less than an hour away from my home on a very hot September early afternoon wearing a brown monkey suit, albeit a Jean-Paul Gautier, I am "feeling" how the interview process will go. The car radio is playing traditional Mexican music just to create an international ambiance...plus I'm too lazy to change the station as I'm in my own reverie of thinking of answers to questions. I know this will be a no-brainer.

My cell phone rang as I parked my car across the building where I will fatefully make an impression in Johann's office. Restricted. It must be Carla so I called her back. She tells me she has her fingers crossed and will be wishing me luck. I ask her to cross every finger that she owns including the 10 toes. To kill some extra minutes, we chatted about her cooking adventure in her solar oven before I was to traverse the long pedestrian crosswalk to get to the other side where my appearance, my demeanor, my answers, and hopefully my fate will take me to the other side of the globe.

As I enter the building's lobby, I immediately see a big Peace Corps logo and I was pleased that the office was located on ground level. Easy enough, no need to find it in the directory and ride the elevator. I pulled the door handle but it wouldn't open. I hadn't buzz myself in so a receptionist stood up from her desk to open the door allowing me entrance. As I walked in, soon afterwards a tall man gives me papers to fill out. After 15 minutes of filling information and watching the receptionist and the tall man talk about banal office issues, shortly, my recruiter approached me with a smile and we formally meet and greet.

I followed him to his office along a long row of corridor with offices on both side. Each was decorated with souvenir knick knacks from the country that each recruiter had previously served. I joked that this is a travel agency. I sat down in front of Johann in his office where my eyes roamed around stopping at the shelves, walls, desk or anywhere a Moldavian trinket may rest. I feel like I'm in the Moldavia Office of Tourism. I can tell he has done this many times when his spiel was hurried and unemotional as he proceeded to explain the interview process. For the next hour and half, like an automatic machine gun, he fired questions at me one after the other and as I answered them, he stared at me unmoving, his fingers like a cat on a hot tin roof, typed away in full speed for he transcribed the entire interview for Washington D.C. to review. He did warn me that it may be off putting. Initially it didn't bother me but then soon I knew what he meant. It was distracting as I was competing to hear my own thought and voice over his rapid staccato typing. Except for one question that I struggled with but only because it didn't apply to me, I felt I passed the interview without seeming like a wuss. After our interview was finished, an elaborate set of fingerprints were taken...surprised that toe prints weren't asked.

Conclusion is that I am a competitive candidate and is worth keeping in the application process. I qualify under three sectors: Community Development, Business Development, and the very rare Fine Arts Program. The Next step is the coveted nomination in which Johann will try to hook me up to a general assignment suitable to my skills upon the next job opening in mid September. What makes me anxious is the competition amongst other well qualified applicants.

I am now at the mercy of Johann, my recruiter and God knows how many excellent candidates out there...I am a compassionate person who never wishes anything ill to anyone...but up to this point, I wish they all suck.

I talked to my recruiter for the first time

September 6, 2011

Like a teenage girl, I am expecting a phone call from a young man. I am waiting for Johann to call me to schedule an interview. Up to this point, a call from a Peace Corps recruiter is incontestably more exciting than a call to be asked out on a date.

At 2:25PM, the call finally came. I pushed for an early interview; I will finally meet Johann tomorrow at 1:30PM.

I'm ready. It's showtime, folks!.....

So far so good...

September 1, 2011

I received an e-mail from a recruiter stating that he looks forward in working with me throughout the application process and that he will be calling me on September 6 to discuss next steps before I leave on a mini road trip. I wrote him that I will be out of town from September 11 to 20 and that if I am granted an interview, if they can schedule it either before or after my little sojourn to Oregon.

Since application submission, I check my e-mails as if I'm on match.com to see who has winked at me and if the hottie will ask me out to dinner. When I see the name Johann in my inbox, with excitement I am hoping my recruiter is the bearer of good news. So far the recruiting office has been very prompt throughout the process. Why hook up with a dating service when you can apply to the Peace Corps; it is a thousand times more exciting and fulfilling. Who wants fine dining, hot sex, and romantic getaways...when you can have no running water and electricity, eating boiled millet with yak cheese, and hike a mile to work any day! Sign me up for the latter anytime. But then again, that's me.

Trust me, whilst in the Peace Corps, one can absolutely have a most unique culinary experience with meaningful people in an authentic relationship and living in an exotic location that few would ever get to discover or can only dream of. Try to top that one!

For the record, I have never subscribed to any online dating service.

Sigh! More documents needed....

August 31, 2009

As expected, an e-mail immediately arrived from Peace Corps with a handful of attached documents ranging from needing to know if I am a vegetarian, if yes, I would offer answers to some sample scenario questions given as to how I would handle this particular eating habit...then another form asking if I am in a significant romantic relationship and if yes, more questions about that dilemma in how I would handle the separation and ...then the medical, the legal history, financial obligation, divorce documents and skill enhancement suggestions. Each form is a full page in length with many questions to be completely filled out if applicable. Peace Corps needs to know about every angle of my life to assess whether I am suitable for the job or not. Clearly, they are avoiding people that may bail on them at the last moment or give them trouble. Although exhaustive, I appreciate and respect the entire idea of needing to dig deeply into your every nook and cranny. Wanna know what kind of underwear I wear? This is major due diligence on their part. I get it. It makes sense. They are doing the applicant a favor too by profiling who's a flake and who's a keeper. There is a true story of how a volunteer didn't leave the plane once arrived at the destination for reason he/she decided separation with the boy/girlfriend would be too difficult. I rolled my eyes as I read the story. Seriously? I guess so, different strokes for different folks. I guess Juliet couldn't part with her Romeo. For something this serious with dire consequence of being physically, mentally, and emotionally challenged, it is with the utmost gravity that those who can't take it be weeded out pronto.

All the intensive investigation is still not foolproof and guarantees nothing.

Now what...?

August 29, 2011

Peace Corps received both my application and health review forms; the first two documents that get submitted and reviewed. Now, the next step is waiting for the recruiter to notify me of the next step of the application process. I know I'll be supplying additional material. Jesus Christ.....do they want my Kindergarten class picture and my high school report card?  This is the American government, all nominees will under go national agency check for background investigation. Imagine what applying for the CIA is like. As an interesting Peace Corps tidbit, CIA people can not join Peace Corps and Peace Corps people can not join CIA. The reason: impropriety. It doesn't look kosher to other countries. SPY.

A recruiting director and I have been e-mailing about my pending departure in November for nearly 6 months. He tells me that most likely the medical portion would have to be done whilst I am abroad. Oh great..an Indian medical facility...at least it'll be cheaper than Newport Beach...think I'll have to supply my own needles. I've informed the agency that we need to expedite any necessary protocol before I leave the country. They assure me that it's all good in the hood. We'll see...meanwhile, it truly feels like I'm waiting for a potential employer to contact me for a possible job.

Go for it!....the application process with the thought process. It's now or never, my friend!

August 29, 2011

 I finally clicked "submit".

The simple action of my finger left clicking the mouse on the computer screen was not an online purchase, a bank transfer, submitting a Costco rebate, bidding on Ebay or unsubscribing to How to make men fall in love with you. I'm submitting to something that not everyone aspires to. But for those who does, it will be an experience of a life time. It was the first click in hopes of agreeing to give 27 months of my life to embark on an adventure that will make a difference to the world and to myself...what little ol' me can contribute if it's only to one person or a community would be my honor and privilege.

I'm now an applicant for the Peace Corps.


Not that I even had an ounce of doubt or reservation because I knew exactly what I was getting into and was more
than willing, let alone happy, to sign my life away for the greater good, but the somewhat long Recommendation Letter forms have already been submitted online by my three references of choice: the required employer, volunteer supervisor, and friend; therefore, Peace Corps was now waiting for my Application for Volunteer to arrive in their inbox. ...if I back out now, I'd be a schmuck for letting Carla, Danni, and John spent time filling the Letter of Recommendation for nothing...I can't waste their time...go for it...send the application, it's now or never my friend! I have nothing to lose and all the world to gain. They received my notification of request to write a recommendation at around 3 o'clock AM on August 25. It was right there and then during the middle of the night in my quiet office in solitude that I had truly committed to the process and the idea because now three people are in the know and their recommendations are part and parcel in assistance to a nomination assuming they didn't describe me as a pathetic nimrod. Unless I actually submit the application, it would just have been a long exercise in filling out an endless form. But the fact I entered three people's e-mail address and hit that sent button...that was it! It's on! Wendy Liu is in the running and Yoda is blessing me with his May the force be with you! No turning back now unless I tell these three people that I had a brief temporary bout with insanity or convince them it was a belated April Fool's joke. Anyway, too late because that day, John and Danni had already submitted their recommendation form. When I received notification of John's submittal...wow, I was blown away at how fast he got it in. Hours later, Danni submitted hers. Double wow.......I was impressed and truly touched by their speed and efficiency. Either they couldn't wait to get rid of me and support the idea of having me shipped off to Zambia or they didn't want to lolly gag with an American governmental agency or both. I appreciate Speedy Gonazaleses. They received it, filled it and out it goes to the Peace Corps and instant notification to me. This is good. So far so smooth. Pretty easy. Thank you so much John and Danni! You guys are the best! Triple wow...Carla got it in within 48 hours. Impressed again. Thanks Carla! No slackers need apply in Wendy's world! Not only was I touched by their promptness, but mostly their sincere believes that I'd be an excellent volunteer for the Peace Corps and that they will agree. These words coming from John and Carla meant a great deal to me for they are people I highly respect and who never give lip service or speak in exaggeration. Their confidence in me really kicked it up a notch and will make the exhaustive 1 year application process so much worthwhile. If I ever doubted for a slight moment, I will inevitably think back on the encouragement from these 2 people which will give me the motivation to confidently proceed. To be supported by couple sentences on an e-mail meant a lot as this is a highly competitive job even if unpaid. Now, I really can't disappoint Carla and John as they are rooting for me. Danni wrote me saying she gave me a glowing review...I knew I could count on my partner in crime. At least I have three people who like me in this world. This was comforting. By now, I'm excited! I'm really, really excited!

Except one friend, Raffy, whom I see most often, I have not told a soul about my application submission to Peace Corps and of course, my mummsy, but that's because I live with her and I need an outlet to share my excitement and dream with someone. Who better than your own mother? This woman should be used to these ideas by now...that I do stunts like this in life. When I was in high school, I announced to her that I was going to Finland as an exchange student after graduation then to be followed by hey, mum...I'm going to France for college. She acknowledged the fact that she gave birth to a closet gypsy. She coined the label "gypsy" on me. All I know is that I have soulful urges to roam around...far and wide. Mummsy once had a fortune teller in Taiwan create an elaborate astrological chart with fortune telling mumbo jumbo predictions for me. Mr. Fortune Teller said this and that. So far his prediction of me marrying a mega rich spectacle wearing guy living in a villa hasn't come true yet but one thing he hit the jackpot was that of all the attributes applying to a person, my king strength is on "movement". This means that I will be moving a great deal which means travel...a boat load of it, I hope. He gave a metaphor to my mother describing me as a wild fox who needs to be free and always on the move and should not be domesticated and confined to a cage. The truth is that I am my father's daughter. Papa Liu was an adventurer, a free spirited soul, a don't-give-a-damn type of man. Nobody was going to tell him what he could or could not do. Playing safe was not his modus operandi. He lived a short life but at least he lived. Genetically, he passed on the DNA travel bug to me. Growing up, my brother and I barely saw our father as he was often away on trips. And I'm not talking about business trips. I'm talking about traveling for "fun and adventure" trips. He somehow finagled to get himself in communist China way back in the 70's when the iron curtain was still closely shut to the outside world. Maybe he was a spy? Maybe he was serving the Peace Corps? Maybe he lived the saying that if there is a will, there is a way. Hell yeah!  His wife, my mother, got used to this, hence when I announce plans for travel or any announcement resembling stunts with built-in travels...it never phases her. Thanks, Daddy-O...for training Mummsy well, cause it's a drag to explain life's greatest pleasure to people.

I dare not tell my daughter just yet because she will freak out for I don't believe she has totally recovered yet from my last announcement. I will be hiking Mount Everest Base Camp in Nepal with two friends in November. We'll be trekking in and we are carrying our own pack with no guide. My kid went into hysteria with tears and the works...a performance worthy of daytime soaps, calling me selfish, pleading me not to go claiming she would not be able to sleep when she's in college. Yes, you read this right, she is a college student, a young adult and she's worry about me hiking a mountain. Granted, it is the world's highest mountain but we are not mountaineering, ascending and attempting to summit Mount Everest. We are only mere mortal hikers trekking in base camp, chill kid! So.....I have a fear based conservative child, therefore I can't just yet spring on the eye raising news that I'm trying out for Peace Corps. She will give me examples of how I will be kidnapped by pirates from Somalia, attacked by a clan of Silverback gorilla in Uganda, or death by food poisoning in India. Oh, honey...did I tell you that it's a 2 years gig? Then this is when I hear a loud thud sound. My daughter has fainted.

I fantasize of announcing the "breaking news" of the coveted invitation to my family. Geez...that's not for another year. I may have a questionable reputation or motive in my family as I suspect they may not completely approve of my "lifestyle" or understand who I am at a deeper level. I'm a middle-aged divorced single mother and shouldn't I want a husband and a job? This is when my head does the 365 degree spin and I spew green puke a la Exorcist.They may secretly and openly play Dr. Phil where they go through an exercise of figuring out what's going on in my head : (a) She is going through a mid life crisis. (b) She is making up her own version of Eat, Pray, Love. (c) She wants a free two year paid trip and (d) She's looking for love in all the wrong places. (e) answer c and d  and lastly (f) all of the above. The correct answer is (g) none of the above. The truth of the matter is that on my resume, my volunteer experience is double in volume that of my professional experience. I am a professional volunteer! The US government should recognize this! I deserve a shiny medal and a gold Rolex watch, damn it! So, wouldn't the Peace Corps be a natural extension of what I do? Think of it as a long, really, really long unpaid job like many jobs I've done. Like the agency's motto: It's the toughest job you'll ever love! This is the whole point. To love the fact one is able to help and contribute for the betterment and empowerment of under developed countries aiding in the training of their men and women. I think in all total fairness, my family would be supportive of my decision...now, do they think that I've got what it takes...I don't know for certain. My bro may question my professional skill. Who knows, maybe dear brother Bonaparte may deep in his heart thinks I'm the greatest thing since slice bread and calamari fritti.
As for my sis-in-law, Debbie, she once told me that I would be a competitive candidate so that was probably my first foray in exploring this realm. Debbie is no dummy. Highly educated with a PHD and super duper smart to marry my bro whom she met in Harvard, if she thought I had a shot, then gosh darn it...I will surely try especially since her brother is a Return Peace Corps Volunteer and I assume she may have a bit of an idea of what the gig entails. I have nothing to lose except time and sleep and at this moment in my life...time and sleep are what I have a lot of!

So out of the blue one evening on August 24, I was online surfing the web for travel....I was superficially researching for travels in Costa Rica as I thought in October, I may chill and relax somewhere warm and tropical before freezing my ass off climbing Mount Everest during winter. It's like a taking a vacation before hard work and not after. As I'm online looking for travel, the Peace Corps website popped up. I clicked on it and the home page prominently displayed Apply by October 1 for fall departure. Hmmm, Peace Corps... Like an obedient cult member, without any hesitation, I willingly and knowingly drank the Kool Aid. I applied in hopes for a fall departure. Sweet! After I'm back from Mount Everest and traveling in India and wherever else the wind takes me for a minimum of 6 months, this will be my next gig! The universe works in mysterious ways. This was something that I had been contemplating in the back of my mind. The stew wasn't boiling yet but brewing nevertheless. Just two months ago, I had drag Carla to attend a Peace Corps info session at my local book store. Being my friend, she complied and sat with me throughout the spiel. As least she got to take home a ball point pen and the book A Life Inspired which I hope she enjoyed reading as much as I did. It's a collection of tales from Returning Peace Corps Volunteers describing their memorable life lessons or experiences. I finished this book after I had applied. I wonder what unforgettable stories I will own upon return of my service. What can I share with others that will be inspiring and to challenge others to help. How can my action teach Fendi to live life with gusto? This is not about joining the Peace Corps but to be engaged and interested in this so-called LIFE. More than anything, I want her to live life to the fullest without fear. Design your own life and the hell with convention if that's not your gig in life. I have never been a fan of traditional conventions...too safe which can be boring and plain. There is nothing wrong with living the American dream. A good chunk of the population on earth can only dream of the American dream. I just want her to know that it is not the be all end all. Of course, her mother's dream is probably a tad different...my dream is living in a tree house in the jungle on the edge of the beach with the bright sun shining 365 days a year. Clothing absolutely optional on this one. As long as I can hunt, grow, and gather my sustenance, the palm roof doesn't blow away from the hurricane, and I am not deathly ill or injured...I've reached nirvana. Wait...isn't this from The Blue Lagoon?

So, I am on the official website and instead of researching the entire site to mentally and emotionally finalize my decision just to solidify that I know all the fine print, I just went for it effortlessly and consciously. With enthusiasm and boundless energy, I dove into it like a fat hungry dude and his $6 Carl's Jr. burger. Take that juicy meat flanked by a pair of buns, lower the head, plunge with greedy mouth, sauces and pickles dribbling all over white shirt, satisfaction and total yums! First in a handful of sitting of the online application took the longest. I made rough drafts of the essays and spent countless hours trying to find a suitable free resume template online. My old resume was out dated and I desperately needed a new one. After spending couple hour creating one online, my time had been wasted when one "free online resume template" cost money at the end to print which pissed me off.  Fuckers. Misrepresentation is a crime. I had spent hours of work for nothing. It's back to the drawing board to recreate a new resume and continue on the essays. Time pass fast when you're having fun so they say. I'd like to add that time pass fast when you're applying for the Peace Corps. Next thing I noticed on my computer clock was the time. It was pass 4 o'clock in the morning and if it wasn't for a facial appointment in 5 hours, I would have continued to work and pretended I didn't know how to tell time. As I got in bed, make-up still on, too lazy to brush my teeth, although I did remove my contact lenses...I was totally pumped up with adrenaline which forbade immediate slumber. Images of exotic locales swam in my head as I wondered and pondered which geographic region would be my preference, a specific question on the application which I left blank. Living in a mud hut amongst villagers in Kenya working in agriculture planting trees appealed greatly to me. Hmmmm ...no running water or electricity...let me think about that... I'll just consider it a 2 years camping trip. Lounging on an exotic beach in the Kingdom of Tongo in the South Pacific eating tropical fruits and grilled fish seems pretty sweet too. The Tongans there are probably so laid back chilling like a coconut that they wouldn't notice I wasn't working or even missing...beach bum is not very Peace Corps like...I'm there to serve..I have to work and I want to work. Better not to consider secluded islands with romantic beaches...too tempting to run away with Kalle, the sexy Swedish scuba instructor.  How about teaching English in Mongolia? With my students, we could drink horse milk in my yurt and I can wear colorful outfits with interesting head gear. I don't know about horse milk. Fiji and Morocco sound grand but I've already traveled there so perhaps a land I've never been before like Kyrgyzstan or Burkina Faso...(Burkina who?) ...places that the general population has never even heard of let alone pin pointing it on a map. Difficulty of spelling a plus. The fascinating and potpourri of varied cultures all overwhelmed me so I decided I'll let fate chose where I go. Anyway, it's not up to me to decide and I honestly have no preference. I'd be stoked just to be invited...even if it's Mexico...a 2 hours drive from my house to cross the border. All I request from his holiness is to ensure my safety and well being. If I had to guess where I would serve, most probable but not limited, francophone Africa with my fluency in French or possibly China being that Chinese is my mother tongue. How anti climatic and what a let down! Going back to the mother land is like me going to Ohio for an adventure! No offense to those from the Buckeye state. At least I'll have Chinese food which ain't a bad thing for me. I believe things happen for a reason. If I am to serve a specific country doing specific tasks meeting specific people, so be it. That will be my destiny; I just hope I'm fortunate enough to have this destiny...

Prologue

I believe every human being should be a gardener. Not so much for the ability to grow one's food for survival or to enjoy pretty flowers, but as a spiritual and physical exercise in understanding the essence of life's important secret, a universal law that dictates anything worthwhile to keep requires work, lots of it... and a lifetime of maintenance. To only have an intellectual concept would be moot unless there is an emotional impact for which it must be felt in one's gut.

Maintaining a garden should be a metaphor for almost everything in life. Whatever it is that one builds, be it a relationship, a business, self-growth, or just about anything, like a plant, it always starts with a seed. A thought or an idea must first be manifested. Once rooted, necessary and healthy nutrients must be added to sustain growth. To keep it in tip top shape and in full bloom with vigor in momentum, conscious effort, intelligent choice, and proper actions are the keys to its successful growth and outcome. For once you slack off and neglect, the garden now becomes a sad shabby ghetto. It's deteriorating appearance and unhealthy condition are enough to lose one's interest for now in order to revive to its former glory, it requires double duty. The pain may not be worth the eventual and potential reward as it is way too labor intensive and can be physically, mentally, and emotionally challenging. But what is the alternative? Work just enough to get by? To settle would be mediocre. There is nothing wrong with mediocrity just like there's nothing wrong with plain vanilla ice cream or the color beige. Plain vanilla ice cream and the color beige dominate the world because it's safe and non threatening, plus it goes with everything. Thanks to mediocrity, anything spectacularly beyond that is superior. Mediocrity is not living; it's surviving. We all deserve a chance to live beyond survival.

To truly live means to take a chance, stepping away from one's comfort zone and for having the audacity to strap on some balls to go for what you want and to pursue your dream in life. You have nothing to lose except your dream...or there is always mediocrity waiting for you.

So like one's beloved garden, there needs a fertile foundation to bring an enterprise to fruition with an idea, building the structure, loving care, constant motivated upkeep, and hope that all the hard work will yield an abundance of soulful nourishment.