happy day for mamma's

For you, Cindy.  You have taught me so much and inspire me everyday to be the best me I can be.  Everything I love about myself is something I've inherited or learned from you.

Thank you.

Happy Mother's Day.

a big thanks, to everyone

They say that a Peace Corps Volunteer cannot accomplish anything alone.  Usually, this refers to the support a PCV seeks to earn from the community in which they live in their new home.

And yet, it's even more clear to me, seventeen (exactly!) months into my service, that I could not do my job and accomplish my and my community's goals without my family and friends who support me and my work back at home in America.

So, here's that thank you letter I've been writing in my head every single day for the past 520 days, give or take:

Dear Parents, Parents-in-law, Siblings and Siblings-in-law, Uncles and Uncles-in-law, Cousins and Cousins-in-law, Neighbors, Friends from College, Friends from High School, Friends from my Teaching Days in Baltimore, Friends from TFA in Baltimore, and Friends of friends of any of these groups who have sent a smile my way these past months, 

Thank you.  From the deepest trench of the bottom of my heart, thank you so very much.  Your intentional physical, emotional, financial and mental support has made the difference between a frustrating, lonely, sad year-and-a-half of service and a successful, less-frustrating, supportive, joyful year-and-a-half of service.

Many of you have spent the time and money to send me (and really, us) gifts, small and large, through the insanity that is the postal service in the U.S. and Cambodia.  Even if that package or letter took three months to arrive, I thank you.

Many of you have contributed financially to both our work projects and our play.  They have, quite literally, meant that I have been able to do things like my Camp GLOW and visit Vietnam.  I thank you.

All of you have, in some way or another, helped me because of something you said via facebook or email that made me laugh. Helped me because of something you said before I left that I remember on one of my many long bus rides around this country.  Or  helped me because of something you did while eating dinner one night that reminds me why I, and we, chose to leave our home, our puppy, our family and our friends for uncertainty and unknown possibilities. 

  I thank you.

All my love, 
Kate

big plans, people

Yes, that's right, I've got big plans, people.  Big plans. For the future holidays, I mean. Future holiday traditions, in fact.

I think I've mentioned that since moving to a developing country and foregoing regular gatherings with our friends and family, having limited (at least, slower and more expensive) access to internet, and enjoying three hour long rest periods in the middle of every work day, Topher and I have gained a great deal more time to simply sit and chat with one another.

And chat we do.

Recently, one chat revolved around the Christmastimes we enjoyed as a child and would like to have with our as-yet-to-be-conceived-but-often-key-players-in-my-imagination children when the stork drops them off on our doorstep in coming years.

As it turns out, the Toph and I are both very big tradition-ists.  Not traditionalists.  No, rather we're both rather focused on the traditions we grew up with as children.  Many of our respective traditions fit rather nicely, like the pieces in a pricey puzzle you might buy in a gift shop in Jackson Hole or Ocean City (see how I did that, and referenced places of meaning for me and the husband?!)

Annnnddddd, some will require a bit more...finagling.

We both believe in parties.  I grew up with my family throwing elaborate, food and fun filled Christmas Eve parties until my nineteenth year of life, when my parents sold my childhood home (no hard feelings, there.  It's not like I didn't get to say goodbye and heard only through text about the weekend spent ripping up the nail-polish stained carpet in my room and the whitewashing of the walls I had spent many an afternoons gazing at, admiring our floor to ceiling wall paper, as was the custom of builder grade homes from the 1980s.)

(Only kidding there, Mom.  Really, no hard feelings.)

(Just trying to preempt the sure to come text when she wakes up and reads this blog via phone. Love you Cindy!)

Chris also grew up with a big party around the Eve of Christmas.  Both of our parties were made up of mainly church and neighborhood friends, and the family members who lived within driving distance or were visiting for the holidays.

So, there will be parties.  We have yet to agree if the party will be a Christmas Eve-Eve party or just Christmas Eve party, or another random weekend before Christmas day party.  We have some years to decide officially, but family and friends, be excited for 2013, when we will kick this tradition off.

At said parties, the food present is of utmost importance.  For me, two kinds of fudge (known, even in our Marsh household, as "Mom's fudge" and "Dad's fudge"), nutmeg log cookies, sugar cookies from my family recipe (used as wedding favors for our 2010 nuptials!), and "Tom and Jerry's," a sweet, egg and rum based concoction that I need to hear being whipped into a frenzy for it to really feel like Christmas to me.

For Chris, it's caviar, pate and deviled eggs. Candied bacon and various other finger foods.

(I mean, it's safe to say which of our food 'musts' are more versatile and kid friendly. I mean, I'm not knocking Topher's caviar or deviled eggs, even if you couldn't pay me with all the Christmas trees in the world to eat more of those items than I already have to satisfy my universal rule of 'try everything once.' I'm not calling those foods strange or unusual or even somewhat unpalatable.  No, that's your job in the comments.)

There will also be stockings.

Stockings are of the utmost importance to both Chris' family and mine.  For me, stockings are the first thing to be opened on Christmas morning, and they are chock full of special Christmas candies (like chocolate oranges! and chocolate shaped like bells!) and little, significant presents.  For a great deal of my life, every Christmas, I received a new cross (like, the little baby Jesus' cross) necklace and it was always in my stocking and it was always beautiful.  Stockings are gift cards, and that exciting moment when you reach your hand in and you just.don't.know.what's.NEXT! And your name is embroidered on the stocking with a Santa and his fluffy (real fluff!) beard underneath, relaxing in a chair with a puppy at his feet that your paternal grandmother knit for you when you were a wee babe and will be your stocking until the end of time, forever and ever, amen. That's Christmas, that is.

And for Chris. Stockings are pretty much THE event in his family.  They aren't even stockings? They're giant bags that everybody fills with everything, from those expensive little gift cards to a new year's supply of razors.  And it's crazy, but it's awesome, and you end up loving every item, from the new tee shirt of your favorite sports team to the solar-powered book light that Gaga gave you because she knows you like to read, even after the sun sets.  And it's at the same time terrifying and overwhelming and exhilarating and your heart's full to bursting with the pure joy of dozens of little things rolling around a giant bag just for you and each new grab is another moment of "oh my GOD who knew this was EXACTLY what I needed?! Was it you? You? You! Thank YOU!" And your hit with gratitude as you remember how much these people in this family love you and spend hours scouring places for even tiny little things that will brighten your life in the coming year.

And at this point, you're probably also wondering how in the Wenceslas Topher and I will manage to combine some seemingly starkly-different traditions into a semblance of two that are replicable and yet also honor both of our time-honored Christmastimes past?

I have no idea.

But, god donkey, I'm excited to try!

are you more of a fudge and cookie kind of christmas pal, or a pate and caviar pancakes person?

To Two Great Men

Today, I celebrate the birthdays of two great men in my life.

Today is two days after my dad's 57th birthday, and two days before my Uncle Mark's 50th birthday.

...............................

 Growing up, my dad was the life of the party.  The jokester.  My ice cream eating, Dumbo-watching buddy.

For his 39th birthday, my momma threw my dad a 70s themed birthday party. Bell bottoms, baby!

I always loved when people compared me to him- that I had his long, lean legs, or his insatiable sweet tooth.

So cheers, to you, poppsy-diddles, and if I could have been there, I would have given you a giant one of these:

At my wedding, 2010. Photo courtesy B. Scott Photography.

I've always been incredibly close to my Uncle Mark.  He is my godfather, but he's always provided more than guidance; he and I just "get" each other.  When I was younger, I would bugger the crap out of him, but he always had a hug for me whenever I needed it.  As I've gotten older, we've gained the ability to talk about anything, anywhere.  He's been my sanity on more than one occasion of family gatherings, and has given me great advice, even when I didn't want to hear it.

Both of us, circa 1995.

I wish I could be there to ring in the illustrious 50, dear Mark!  I can't wait for our major celebration of 3-birthdays-in-1 next year!  

Here's a virtual hug I wish I could give you in person.

My wedding in 2010. Photo from B. Scott Photography

I just love October and birthdays and birthdays in October!

pizza and pasta and fruit shakes, oh my!

i've been holding out on you, friends.

a few weeks ago, our town got a new little western restaurant.  it's the first legit one to open during our time living here (there was a little place that supposedly sold some western food but it was always "out" of whatever people ordered and it closed up shop about two months ago) and we're pretty excited.

we had heard rumors and whisperings of an italian place opening, to be run by a wife of one of the doctors at our hospital (whom chris tutors), but we just couldn't believe it. it seemed too good to be true.

and then it appeared. a quaint little cafe that sells pasta, burgers, pizzas, amazing fruit shakes (including the avocado- so good!) and french fries to boot.

our first trip, chris nearly cried when he got his burger. grilled onions? fresh, perfectly grilled beef? and my pasta carbonara was delicious- super creamy and very worth the food guilt.

last night, we even took our host family to the new restaurant. i had mentioned it a few weeks ago, then last week, and then solidified a date and time with my older sister and mother on sunday night.    and all day long the little children were chanting "pizza! pizza!"  there was excitement in the air, i tell you!

we called in our order a few hours before to be sure there would be enough food, and when we arrived, they had set up a table with placemats and sauces all ready for us.

we dined on fried rice (just in case!), chicken pizza, shrimp pizza, tomato and basil spaghetti, french fries, a cheeseburger, spaghetti carbonara and fruit shakes galore.

surprisingly, after all that excitement about pizza, our youngest host-niece refused to try some. oh well!

by the end of the evening, the food was all gone, so i'd call the trip a success!

chris and i are already seeing how having this delicious place in our town (and only three blocks away!) is going to prove very tempting as we try to save money and our waistlines!

overheard

this morning, as i lazily awakened myself from deep slumber, i could hear my host-niece and nephew playing outside my window.

"no, you do one, two, three, four, five, six!"

"no! you hit this and it goes left, one, two, three, four, five, six!"

"yayyyy!"

when i walked outside, we had a discussion about what they were counting, and hitting, and they explained a game they learned while they were visiting their cousins for the last two weeks.  it's quite complicated, involves a lot of counting steps and then smacking one yellow toy with another toy, but it's also, from what i can tell, the ultimate in fun. (as most things are when you're four?)

almost as fun as when topher and i came home last night, and the kids were on the balcony, and we hadn't seen them for two whole weeks, and all we heard was:

"aunt! uncle! we're home now!  we've come back from phnom penh!"

to which we said:

"oh, we are happy! we missed you very much!"

we were gifted their resounding cries of how much they missed us too, and how much fun they had riding in a taxi and going to a party, but they really missed us and they were so happy to be home.

and by the time we had gotten through the gate, our littlest niece had run down the stairs, right into my legs, to give chris and me the biggest hug of all time.

and it may have been all i could do to stop smiling as i fell asleep last night after this exchange, and it may have been difficult to contain my anticipation to spend a few minutes talking with them this morning, as soon as i heard them upon waking.

and it may be that some of my best conversations in this country happen with my host-nieces and nephew, and they happen entirely in khmer, and somehow there is complete and total understanding on both sides when we have these conversations?!

and it may be that this was a delightful weekend.

on aging, on getting older, on growing wiser, on feeling younger: on the pain of growth and change

i am no longer an assortment of things that i used to be.  i'm not a recent college graduate. i'm not a newlywed.  nor am i in my early twenties, or a novice blogger, or new to education and teaching.

i am not a new peace corps volunteer.

******

there's a weight that attends nearing 30.  not necessarily a negative weight, but a weight nonetheless.  the looming next steps on the game board of life- of parenthood, of forever home buying, of making the decision just exactly where will we celebrate christmas?- are ever present.  everything seems more real and less real, closer and farther away, more exciting and more daunting, more pressing and easier to push off to a later date.  closer than i want them to be, just out of reach when i want them in hand this moment.

*****

often when i speak about birthdays with volunteers of a similar age here, there's an airy sort of thought that our timeline has frozen back in america, that our life here is almost as a pause in a running video tape of our aging.  of course i will still be 25 when i return to america.  of course you will still be living here, working there, planning this, making decisions to do that.  of course we will pick up exactly where we left off, of course we'll be able fall right back in.  two years? it's nothing.

****

the april before i moved to cambodia, i was in new orleans.  i met my grandmother, the grandparent whom i am closest to, for lunch, as we knew it may be one of the last times we'd see each other before i moved away for two years.  my aunt accompanied her, and we had delicious shrimp po' boys. we discussed the upcoming excitement, how my grandmother would miss us at christmas, how i had to be sure to write her letters and send her postcards- she loves postcards.  we hugged, and parted, me excited to share my adventures with her, and her excited to hear them.

***

august of last year, three weeks into my peace corps service, my grandmother, the grandparent whom i am closest to, had a brain bleeding, most nearly a stroke.  in an evening, she lost memory of her last fifty years- her children, her grandchildren, her life.  

**

christmas of last year, i spoke to my grandmother, the grandparent whom i'm closest to, for the first time since april.  she wasn't sure where i was, i'm not sure she knew who i was.  questions were repeated, answers were repeated, tears were held back, memories were gone.

*

i'd like to believe there has been some wisdom gained in recent years.  a wisdom encompassing a greater understanding of myself, of who i am, of what i'd like to change to become who i want to be.  

a recognition of those things that i cannot change, moreover, an acceptance of the good within.   

on balance, an active pursuit to challenge myself to not accept that being stubborn, or a fast thinker, or ambitious, or an overanalyzer are the essence of me.  

that being thus so can be useful and worthwhile in small doses, but maybe, just maybe, sometimes it's better to

relent, 

listen, 

fade, 

let go.

to live here and now, 

to stop and gaze, 

to value the people and memories 

before age and time poof it all away and force you to

relent, 

listen, 

fade, 

let go.

welcoming america to our little corner of cambodia.

i'm effervescently excited about this summer. for a large number of reasons: number A having just occurred, letter 2 to occur in two short weeks and number C happening in mid august.

number A: my parents just visited topher and me in our little part of the south east asian world.  we met them in thailand and dazzled them with our noodle and curry eating abilities.

and then we actually impressed them (maybe?) with our khmer-speaking ways in cambodia.  while here, we visited angkor wat (for the first time!), hung out at a fantastic hotel in phnom penh, introduced our sleepy town to the watts' and spent a night at what might be chris' and mine favorite hotel this side of the national date line.

i'm waiting on my mom's pics before i do a full recap, but it was truly fantastic having them here.

this week, topher and i and jill and other PCVs in our little province are helping out peace corps with the training of trainers- providing advice for dealing with americans fresh off the boat, being guinea pigs during role plays, and generally helping to prepare twelve awesome khmer men and women for that which is pre-service training.

in just over two short weeks, we'll be welcome nearly sixty new trainees to cambodia which just SHOCKS the hell out of me.  can i really have been here for a year? is this job, experience, life really half over already?

i am ready to kick pre-service training into high gear though as well. i and three other TEFL volunteers have been working with PC staff for months now preparing sessions and tweaking objectives and drafting information sheets in excitement for eight weeks of technical training so that our mainly-generalist new cambodian trainees can become rock-n-roll teachers!

and those that know me KNOW that there is very little i love more than providing any assistance and wisdom i have for those brave enough to trek down the path that is educating young people, whether it be in urban baltimore or rural cambodia. bring it k6s! woot!

and finally, can we just pause and get real, real, REAL excited for august? when one of my most FAVORITE of people on this EARTH joins chris and i with her glorious husband for a week in cambodia? paige somehow decided that the best way to celebrate completing her bar exam was to fly thirty hours to visit this girl in the hottest place on earth.  and she's even foregoing what i've heard are beautiful beaches in thailand for more time with us in the 'bode.

this girl! 

amazing.

and that, my friends, is how you write a blog post mainly about things that did happen without providing details and things that are about to happen without any pictures as proof.

alternately, how you write a blog post that reads like a diary entry of a fourteen year old girl.

happy friday!

and then there was my scotty.

i was in a funk all day today.  i didn't accomplish most of the things that i had said i would, and i couldn't get rid of this feeling of...

petulance.

today, i was petulant.  easily frustrated.  irritable.  smarter than everyone around me, simultaneously angered by my own anger.

today was a day where i was reminded, deeply, of the family members that are in america and how deeply i care about their well-being, health, and nearly most important, their happiness.

happiness.

happiness is meeting the man that will become your husband, and then meeting his adorable, also slightly petulant twelve year old brother.

happiness is wanting to be cool and show off your awesome soccer skills with your future husband's athletic little brother, and subsequently kicking the soccer ball directly at his face, nearly breaking his nose.

and then little brother sharing that story at your wedding day, during his best man's speech.

happiness is a sunday afternoon spent lounging on the couch watching silly movies and getting snuggly warm with your boyfriend on one side and his kind and hilarious little brother on the other side.

and then falling asleep only to awaken and realize that oops, you accidentally slept on little brother, but he's so loving that he just let you lie there, napping away, content to be still while his maybe-future-sister snoozed the afternoon away.

happiness is eating all of the chocolate chip cookies your boyfriend's little brother made and only being really slightly jealous at his baking skills and how they rival yours.

happiness is realizing that a lot of your five year old dreams came true the day that your fiance's little brother became your little brother too, and your little brother he will be until the day you die.

and then happiness is being reminded of how kind, generous, humble, smart, athletic, lovable, and funny your little brother is, and how much you miss his presence in your daily life.

happiness is scott, our little brother.

and sadness is not being able to be there for him when other people in the world forget to recognize how kind, generous, humble, smart, athletic, lovable and funny he is.

sadness is realizing that the second time you've had that sweet-jesus-we-have-to-get-home-to-america-NOW feeling happens when you know your little brother is unhappy. (the first being that time when your grandmother had a stroke and you thought this might be it and you couldn't catch your breath for a few days out of fear.)


eating your feelings is what i did when i declared: because i couldn't make things right for my little brother, i couldn't wrap myself up under a blanket of his kindness and love, i had to make cookies.

chocolate chip cookies, just like scotty makes.

and petulance is when those cookies turn out slightly burnt, but your husband still declares them the best cookies you've made so far in cambodia.

and that's when you realize all over again how lucky you are that your husband is who he is, and his little brother got all of those things that you love most about your husband, and you're reminded all over again that-

happiness is scott, our little brother.

and that's 35, folks

when topher and i chose a wedding date of may first, i was partially aware that i was selecting a wedding date exactly one week after my own parent's wedding anniversary.

as a chillun, i lurved looking through my parent's wedding album- admiring those white tuxes with frilly blue shirts, those seventies shags, those peasant dresses, and mostly the excitement that was my! parents! wedding! album!

and this year is thirty five years! cheers to you mama and pops.

established 1977, yo.

curse the fact that i live very far away from that awesome album and cannot share those photos with you.  2014, watch out!

today, on the ides of march...

...thirty one years ago,

the best big brother was born.

he taught me how to ride a bike, 

gave me hands that easily flex and bend from countless minutes of 

silent but strong hand squishing during prayers, 

helped me understand the value of questioning everyone and everything 

(including said prayers), 

and put with endless amounts of crap and screams 

all in the name of getting him in trouble.

happy birthday, colin!  

i love and miss you 

and am very proud to be your little sister, 

always.