khob-kun Phracêā

It's been two weeks of functioning translator-less, and oh what fun we've had. My students have been great sports. Some of the Thai phrases I've learned crack me up: (to knead dough- literally, to give the dough a massage)

and I've sent my students into fits of giggles and hand clapping over unintended double entendres.

My favorite Thai phrase is the way they express Thanksgiving- literally, Thank You God day. I love it. I think America has lost something in our translation.
This is the second year in a row that there was an empty chair around the Thanksgiving tables in California, and my cousins got to eat my share of Grandma Lelia's awesome rolls, and Mom Mom's Mai Thai Jello salad.

I was happily chopping onions in our lovely new kitchen watching the lights and chaos of Loi Krathong at the Karaoke bars outside the big picture window. I watched fireworks shoot over my motorbike and over the tops of buildings, and a parade of white tissue lanterns launch into the sky, carrying the sins of their owners-to nowhere. Well, to no one.

They ended up back on the street the next morning, or stuck in trees- greyed, burnt ghosts.

The kitchen was filled with the smell of caramelized onions, and I was overwhelmed with thanks. As my friend Janice so eloquently said, " I am thankful that we can pin our hopes for redemption and forgiveness on something more eternal than flaming tissue paper." Me too. I am so grateful to be celebrating Thank You God day in the middle of the hopelessness of Loi Krathong. I am so thankful for His provision-of the kitchen I stood in, of being able to stand. I am thankful that His Light is greater than the darkness outside, thankful that His mercy and hope still extends- thankful that He chooses to use us to work through.

When the chickens (Thai turkey :) were out of the oven- I walked to my motorbike, wiped the ashes off the seat, smiling and greeting my neighbors- and wished them all a Happy Thank You God day- no translator necessary.

Bake-cation

Remember VBS as a kid? Well, this is BBS- same same, but with cupcakes :)

The Garden of Hope is closed for it's annual holiday break, and so I invited the kidletts to come enjoy our new kitchen this week. We learned how to make Pizza

sugar cookie shapes

That's how we rollIf Martha Stewart was Thai and 9 years old, this would be her :)

P'Hollie! P'Hollie! P'Hollie! Yes? ummmmm..... (giggle giggle)

*the kids still think I can speak Thai :) Thanks Judy!

We did a science experiment: How many sprinkles is it physically possible to fit on a cookie?

(stars have the most surface area)

I missed the Blue Angels this week

Friday we had Iron Chef: boys v. girls

The challenge? Pancakes. It was intense.

We learned about the weapons of warfare, manna in the desert, Jesus feeding the 5000+

and made Panda Cupcakes ;)

They properly christened the new building, baptizing it in sprinkles.

It was sad getting up this morning; knowing that the kitchen would be all squeaky clean and quiet. I miss my kiddos. But the pizza song kept me company :)

*Special thanks to all the helpers (Twyla, Cheri, Ahna, Tony- and to P'Angkhana for translating and P'Mary for cleaning smeared sprinkles all week :) And, to the tuk tuk driver who tried to pick me up: Sorry, I've got 12 kids- as they all came running and yelling out the door. ha ha ha!*

If the world would end tomorrow. . .

"I'd plant a tree."

So said Martin Luther.

So on a day when nothing was certain and I couldn't do a thing about it-

I went and bought a bunch of bright pink flowers.

and dug out the weeds and cacti from the third floor flower box at the new building with my Thai coworkers Angkhana and Nong.

We had to fight back years of deep, angry roots. The more I thought about the beautiful, tender little flowers that were going to live in this soil- the more I hated those roots of bitterness. When my 30 baht shovel bent- I attacked them with my bare hands. No way would they win- and live to entangle and choke our flowers. As I was hanging over the balcony overlooking the seedy Karaoke bars that surrounded me, I realized this is what we are doing. Yes, my hands were covered in dirt instead of flour, but it's the same battle. And it's the same hope that plants and waters and prays please grow little flowers- grow strong.
I can't think of a better way to start this new project.

Pick me up

Tiramisu is the Italian word for "pick me up." Because this awesome dessert is packed with caffeine and sugar. Yesterday I made one Chiang Mai style. A pastry chef without a kitchen is pretty sad- but I'm learning that the urge to create will not be quieted. It led to this baking adventure...

This is a Tiramisu birthday cake- on my motorbike. I bought a bag of cocoa powder, opened it with the motorbike key, closed it with a hair tie, and dusted cocoa over the seat of the bike. Then I made chocolate shavings with a spoon and a candy bar- which, of course, promptly melted in the heat. In the parking lot of Central Airport Plaza. Yep, lots of Thai people staring at the crazy Farang. :)

But- you know what? It tasted awesome.

Here's my cooking school student after sneaking a corner- and that's her husband's hand- yes, he ate some with his bare hands. And it was delicious. :)

Another Satisfied Customer

This is me feeding our banana coconut bread to a surprise visitor at street sales tonight.

He LOVED! It :)

Took the Redeye. . .

Last Saturday I faced one of my worst fears: A woman was eating a cupcake, licking the frosting off her fingers, when she came at me, said I had something in my eye and stuck her finger in my eye.

I was holding a giant platter of cupcakes with both hands and was unable to protect myself.

By Sunday my eye was too red, swollen and throbbing to do much of anything, so I threw away my contacts and spent the afternoon laying in the grass, just listening to what God had been trying to tell me all week.

wow.

Two things I learned:

1. My worst fears are really stupid.

2. It's true that what God wants is just to spend time with us. Simple. People have been reminding me of this for weeks- same message from God, just different accents.

I love our God. He allowed my red eye just so I'd have to stop and rest. Maybe (sadly) that's the only way He could get my full attention.

And then all week the song "Red Eyes" by Switchfoot keeps popping up.

Ok, You got me.

Reaching for the other side- You. with red eyes.

Sprinkles, frost, and other sugary weather. . .

Last Saturday was rainy and dreary. It came after a really challenging Friday. The perfect antidote? A kitchen full of giggly girls, chocolate, and lots of sprinkles!

I was busy frosting a cupcake and my friend's daughter just ducked under my arm and made herself at home :)

I gave the girls a cupcake- blank stares. They were waiting for spoons. . .
Then we had an impromptu pizza party and watched Miss Congeniality in Thai (highly recommended. . . .) I think my favorite part was watching them all pile onto 2 motorbikes to drive home

Or, it could be this:

If you don't yet believe God changes people. . .

This is my foot. And the ginormous beast of a bug I confronted tonight. It hissed and spurted stuff all over. (eww!) And, guess what? I won ;)

To those of you who know this foot and the bug-hating girl it's attached to, you will understand why this is a miracle.

I have hope for the girls of SouthEast Asia when I see this

Their faces turned towards an open door, a light, a pillar. Someday you will hold up half the sky

Yes, you.

Phnom Penned

If you tire of life, go to a Cambodian village and teach the children how to play Telephone

Or, Musical Chairs

Some might look at you like this

And at least this one will be too distracted peeling a banana with a butcher knife

Or chasing chickens by the water pump

But they will escort you,smiling, back through the rice fields

And squeal in delight when you hi- 5 them goodbye

And you just might feel a mysterious contentment as your head lolls sleepily against the bus window, green after brighter green passing by.

Awaysick

A strange thought joined me at the corner of street 240 and. . . random unmarked alleyway. I didn’t ask his name. But he is a snappy dresser. I know who he is. It is the familiar-faced idea that perhaps I have been missing Cambodia for 23 years. And then we turned the corner into a whole new street- and I wondered how many countries I’m lonely for that I have never seen. I asked him. He has no idea.

God in the corners

What are the rice fields?

It reminds me of Walt Whitman:

*I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?

If all else fails, I'm going to live on a rice farm

They waft coolness- the sweetest clear air I’ve ever smelled- new, and soft.

I felt as if I had traveled to the oxygen farm and got to eat of it fresh dripping from the tree. It’s that new.

Their gentle whispers kiss your ears as you glide by on motorbike, beckoning you.

*Walt Whitman: From Song of Myself (1855)