The Difference Between Men and Women

I'm not going to lie, I was in the midst of enjoying a lazy day today. After a 3-hour phone call last night that took my sister and I into the wee hours of the morning, I had curled up under my quilt and fell asleep to Nick-at-Nite. I finally started to wake up to the sounds of "Go! Diego, Go!" around 11 AM and pattered around the house checking email, eating oatmeal topped with honey, and chatting on the phone with my girl Val. I was excited it was grey and cloudy today, it kinda added to that lazy feel. I grabbed Starbucks with a friend, checked the mail, and decided to go to the Prayer Chapel at my church to journal for a bit. The Prayer Chapel is all-glass and has a great view of the mountains and the desert scene. A wonderfully calm day.

As I am journaling in the chapel, I hear my phone vibrating. Now, normally I would just wait and see who called me later when I got back in my car, but today I checked it for some reason and even more unusual, I listened to the voicemail immediately. It was my 5-year-old nephew Cedric's school calling. His after-care worker hadn't come picked him up, they couldn't get a hold of my sister, and could I please come pick him up? I glanced at my clock: 4:30 PM. He had to have been sitting in the school office an hour already. Why were they just calling me now?

Suddenly, that natural mom-mode that is every woman kicked in. I hightailed it out of the chapel and clickty-clacked down the sidewalk in my jeans and heels, trying to throw my journal in my purse, and dialing back the school at the same time. "Joanne, this is Tammy Kerychuk, Cedric's aunt. I'm on my way! Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can!" Literally tears welled up in my eyes as I rushed to my car and prayed every person I passed would not be offended that I was ignorning them. My nephew wasn't sick, or hurt, nothing bad had happened to him, but he was alone, by himself in that school office, wondering why no one had come to get him. I could picture him sitting on some stiff blue chair, his backpack resting on his chubby knees, his big, brown eyes watching the door. He needed me, and I was on my way.

Now my church is in North Phoenix and my sister lives in Avondale; easily 40 minutes away AND it was 4:30 PM, aka rush hour. That could very well double the time. As I sped along Greenway Road to the freeway, I kept praying that the traffic would be clear. I weaved my way in and out of lanes realizing that yes, there are way too many slow drivers in Arizona. I kept glancing at the horizon to see if traffic was clearing ahead. The grey skies I had loved earlier in the day were no longer my friend. They just seemed dreary and unwelcoming, and added to the sadness I felt for my little "Tink" sitting in that office feeling so so alone. Even the piano music I was listening to, as relaxing as it was earlier, now seemed like a soundtrack focusing on how desperate I was to get to the school. I wished I could tell him I was on my way! I was, however, able to get a hold of my mom and sister. My mom was worried. My sister was panicked. We all kept hoping and praying everything was okay.

Getting to the school seemed to take forever. I'm afraid I tailgated a lot more than I usually do. I finally arrived at Cedric's school at 5:30. I tried to run in my heels to the office and found some teachers in the hall. Worried I said, "I'm Cedric's aunt! Is he okay? I'm so sorry! We're so upset!" The lady was eating popcorn and smiled at me, "The cute kindergartner?" "Yes!" I replied wanting to just scoop up my nephew and hold him close. "Oh, his brother came and got him a few minutes ago. He should be home soon, " the ladies told me. Brother? What brother, I thought. "Okay," I responded still worried. "Thank you!"

I wanted to cry as I raced back to my car. Where was Cedric? I figured his "brother" was really his 13-year-old cousin coming to get him. I drove to my sister's house and her boyfriend was there but Cedric wasn't. I frantically told her boyfriend all the details, still panicking. He, on the other hand, was calm. "Oh, I'm sure Derek got him. He'll be fine," he sat down with a smile. "How are things with you? How was your trip?" What? I didn't have time to talk about that now, I still wanted to make Cedric was okay!

My sister pulled up in her car and flew out, "Where's my baby?!" "It's okay, it's okay," I said. "We think Derek has him." I hugged her. We teared up. "Okay, I'm going to his house," she said. "Please call me immediately!" I replied.

Driving back home was easier with traffic, but I was still upset. Poor Cedric. I hope he isn't sad. I hope he is okay. I called my mom and tried not to cry as she asked me to call her immediately too. I called my dad who said, "Oh, don't worry about it. So did you like my blog I wrote today?!"

I neared home around 7 PM after a frantic few hours. I knew Cedric would be okay, but I still just wanted to hug him and know he was okay. My sister called me. "How's Cedric?!" I asked. "Oh, he's fine," she responded. "He didn't care at all. He just said, 'Mom, I had to wait long minutes upon minutes.' And then he told me how he got in trouble for talking too much today." Thinking about my emotional few hours and how, minutes earlier, I was still trying to calm myself, I laughed as I said, "He didn't care?" "Nope," my sister replied.

And that, my friends, is the difference between boys and girls.

Extreme Thinking

A few days ago, I decided to give up having coffee every day. Once in awhile maybe, just not everyday. I told myself I didn't really need it, that it was a good way to get off of the little bit of dairy I still use and to cut back on all the sugar I need to make coffee even suitable to drink. So I decided to quit coffee AND sugar cold turkey. This shouldn't be a problem.

Right.

I'm on day 3. My body is hating me right now as I'm trying to detox. I kinda feel like there is a knife trying to push its way out from behind my eye. I'm slightly shaky, as in my hand won't stay still (no, I don't have ADHD). And I'm groggy like I'm in the middle of a dream I can't wake up from. Nice. And all because I said no to coffee.

Addiction? Absolutely. And right now every single part of me is begging to run down the street to Circle K for some hot cinnamon coffee topped off with vanilla creamer and mixed with some raw sugar. On a chilly day like today, coffee seems like perfection. I keep telling myself no. Instead I'm going to bundle up and head out into the cold 50' weather for a brisk walk. It's my way of combating this vice.

This got me thinking: are all vices and addictions bad? Clearly we know abusing drugs, alcohol, tobacco, gambling and sex are unhealthy addictions and can lead to serious problems. But what about my "innocent" addicitions? Coffee, lip gloss, texting while driving (which is now illegal here!), tanning, and a certain former Phoenix Suns player. (Ha! Kidding on the Suns player... sorta!). None of these may be horrible but yet there are certain risks behind all of them: spending excessive money, possible harmful driving situations, UVB exposure, etc. But does that mean I should cut them all out of my life?

I guess what it all comes down to, yet again, is balance and moderation. I'm an extreme person. I'm either in all the way or not at all. And I've had to learn that's not the best way to live my everyday life. In Proverbs 25:16 Solomon says, "If you have honey, take only as much as is enough for you; for fear that, being full of it, you may not be able to keep it down" (BBE). The Geneva Study Bible says this verse means to "use moderately the pleasures of this world." There you go, balance.

In a world of extreme makeovers, ultimate fighting champions, and fear factor records, balance isn't always accepted. I remember in college trying to do every activity I was in to the extreme. During my senior year I was a RA (floor leader), Senior RA (leader of all the RAs in the dorm), Missions Team Leader, Government TA, RNC Campaign Student Team Leader, newspaper columnist, was working in the English Department and writing my senior paper. It went beyond being passionate to just plain wearing myself out! I remember at a RA retreat one of our Hall Directors talking about this very thing: going from extreme to moderation. It was a hard decision, but I had to cut some things out of my life to bring back some balance. And that last semester ended up being the best one yet!

I love that I am a passionate person but I'm learning to wean in my passionate ways when they hit extreme. Balance really just means we're trusting. It means we have peace. And it means our lives aren't off-tilt. 'Cause when things are off-tilt, they just seem to crash.

You know, 3 days isn't too bad. Maybe 1 coffee won't hurt after all. :)

PS Dan Majerle looked super cute in his little pinstripe suit tonight as he called the Suns game. *insert dreamy sigh here*

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

There is a ring around the moon tonight. Years ago, my mom told me the ring is a sign the evening will be really cold. In Canada that meant we'd put on an extra sweater, 2 pairs of socks, maybe some tights under our sweats, and always a heavy blanket. Here in Phoenix, it means we just turn off the ceiling fan.

But it is turning into Winter and I love it! I'm a sucker for the approaching holidays. I'm pretty sure I would love living in a Dickens's novel (minus the 3 ghosts of course!). There is so much I adore about the holidays but the greatest part of all is just being with the ones I love most and the same traditions we get to uncover once a year. When I was a kid, we moved around some, so I've seen some traditions change from place to place. Of course some things never change, like always watching Charlie Brown, the Grinch, Frosty, or Rudolph on TV (I never miss them! Ever!). But some traditions that played out in one town didn't always get to follow us to the next. Allow me to elaborate:

I lived in Prescott, Arizona for about 8 years and one of my favorite things about Prescott is the huge courthouse downtown. Prescott was the original capitol of Arizona and the courthouse showcases its legislative beginnings. Tall columns, big staircases leading to the door, and a statue of Teddy Roosevelt when he was a "Rough Rider": the courthouse is the centerpiece of the town. And every Christmas, the Courthouse gets covered in a million little twinkle lights while Santa takes up shop in the gazebo. My school choir would filter onto the steps and sing carols, as they would light up the courthouse in all its colors to welcome in the season. It was beautiful and spectacular. One of my favorite Christmas memories.

My family moved back to Canada when I was 12, and that was my first experience to be surrounded in that much snow at Christmas time. It was cold, really cold! I remember freezing rain sticking in my sister's and my hair as we stood shivering, waiting for the school bus!! But the cold was worth it when we would go down to the Bay of Quinte with all our cousins, strap on ice skates, and glide around the harbor. My 5-year-old cousin Eric could skate much better than me! But I didn't care. I would do little twirls on the ice, stare at the beautiful lights on the old brick buildings, and watch the snow silently and slowly fall down on us. It was wonderfully enchanting.

Moving back to Phoenix a few years later felt like a bit of culture shock at Christmas. I mean, people put lights on palm trees! It didn't seem very Christmasy, in the traditional Currier and Ives way, to me. Nonetheless, I began helping out with costumes at our church's Christmas pageant and hoped somehow it might help get me in the Christmas spirit. Night after night, costume after costume, I would see hundreds of actors throwing on layers of angel's chiffon, thick brown shepherd's frocks, and elaborate Wiseman's garments. The folks in the play would rush over after work, put on makeup and costume, and hit the stage to present the reason we celebrate in the first place: the birth of Jesus Christ. Such dedication and goodwill was heartwarming to me. When I left Phoenix to attend college, Christmas hardly seemed the same without spending 10 days with the pageant.

Every year, although it differed by location, I've had a beautiful Christmas tradition. But this year, this year, I'm pretty excited. This year I get to experience all these traditions in the same season. Next week I'm going with some friends and family to see the courthouse lighting up in Prescott. Then I get to spend 2 weeks with some great volunteers at the Christmas pageant. And then I get to go up to see my mom in Canada for Christmas which will be sure to include sleigh rides, ice skating, baking with my mom and grandma, and lots and lots off snow.

I'm not sure why Christmas traditions make the holidays as special as they do except that in an ever-changing world where things don't always go as we hoped or planned, it's nice to know that some things stay the same. And these annual traditions fall on a holiday to honor and celebrate Someone who always stays the same. Maybe that's why they mean so much to us. Just a thought....

Brrrr! Just took a chill. I really need to turn off that fan.

Second Chances

Jet lag is no bueno. Seriously, not fun. I'm going to bed here in Phoenix when it is morning in Thailand So yesterday morning, at 4:35 AM, when my eyes opened wideawake, I decided not to fight it. I'd just get ready and treat myself to an early morning breakfast.

Now normally I am not a morning person. I like sleeping. No, I love sleeping. A lot (it is of God after all!). But, I do love dawn. There is something so magical about the world still being asleep while you are awake to view the purple, pink and orange tints that color the sky. It's like I'm in on a secret that other people missed out on. So, in a way, I was glad to wake up early and venture out into the world with the few other early birds.

As I drove south on the 51 freeway, I gazed in wonder at the hint of orange behind the still shadowed mountains and the lone bird dipping and soaring through the colored atmosphere. It's amazing how much peace I felt just in viewing that simple scene. Very reverent. Everything was calm. The day held endless possibilities. It reminded me of a quote from one of my favorite movies, "Anne of Green Gables," in which Anne says, "Tomorrow is fresh and new with no mistakes in it."

No mistakes. I know there have been quite a few times in my life, where some burden was upon me, and when I would awake in the morning, I would instantly feel its weight. I would sigh, get up, and just pray I would make it through the day without it affecting my job and/or attitude. Where I wouldn't make any mistakes to add to the burden. Sometimes I was successful, sometimes I wasn't. However, I was able to walk out that day the best I could knowing I was giving life a second chance; I had chosen to get up.

I'm such a big believer in second chances. Perhaps even to a fault. But I firmly trust in the good that can be within everyone. I've had some people do some pretty hurtful things to me. But, I'm sad to say, that I've also done some pretty hurtful things to people as well. My friend and I were talking about that in church this morning. We've been friends for about 7 years now and we've had our ups and downs. I am talking HIGH highs and LOW lows. And yet, somehow, we are still such dear friends. "You know," I said to my friend, "we must really care about each other after all we've been through and we're still friends." And we're still friends because we gave each other a second, third, and fourth chance.

While I was babysitting in Thailand, we had one rocky night where the kids were acting up pretty bad. I sat them down on their beds and said, "Look, tonight was not so great. We all had our own issues to make us grouchy. But tomorrow's a new day. Let's try again tomorrow." That second chance proved to be successful as the kids were happy and fine as I poured them Rice Krispies the next morning. You would have never known it seemed like heads were about to come off the night before.

Tomorrow is like our second chance on life. Tomorrow is forgiving. Tomorrow is giving grace to those who have come against us. Tomorrow is hope for beauty and peace. And tomorrow starts today. Every minute, every situation, every person could be a new tomorrow for you. So, take a chance, try again, or expect something amazingly new. A beautifully spectacular dawn could be in store.

As Scarlett O'Hara once said, "After all, tomorrow is another day."

Sa-bai Dee Kha

Twenty-one years ago my Dad went on a mission trip to Bangladesh; it was his first trip. I remember my Mom, sister and I anxiously awaiting his phone calls while he was gone. At that time, international phone calls were terrible! There was like an 8-second delay and bad static. We would say, "I love you dad. Over." just to let him know when we were done talking. He came home from that trip with not-so-great presents (sorry Dad!) and a mess of slides (yes slides!). Every once in awhile we would make some popcorn, turn off the lights and look through all our slides. Dad would tell us about his travel experiences and my sister and I could only hope one day we would be able to go with him. Over the years the presents got much better (thanks Dad!), the stories were increasing, and we saw our Dad take lots of teams with him; yet we never went. Tonight, as my Dad and I drove around Chiang Mai in a little tuk tuk, he looked at me and said, "I still can't believe you're here with me. After all these years, it still feels like a dream." But it was better than that. It was real.

This is my last blog from Thailand, for now anyway. It's funny cause we left 4 weeks ago today and yet it feels like 5 months ago. I don't mean that in a bad way, like "omigosh it's been forever!" but rather being overseas just fit. Like I've been doing it all along. And that's a really great thing. I know I'll be back soon. I only got to see the travel-side of Thailand while I was here. When I come back next I'll be exploring the work he does and trying to capture it in writing. We want to portray to the world the children Reaching Kids International works with. Their stories need to be heard. But not just here in Southeast Asia, but also in Eastern Africa and India as well. I also have had a lot of dreams and plans of my own cemented in my heart while I was here. It will be wonderful to help my Dad, and it will be great to soar off in my own dreams as well.

Today Daddy and I got a babysitter for the kids we've been watching and spent one last day together. I don't know how many months it will be before I see him again so it was nice to have this time together. Now, if it is not obvious to you yet, I'm completely a Daddy's girl! And I'm a Mommy's girl for that matter too! :) My parents are my best friends and have helped me through so much. After my ex-boyfriend and I broke up this summer, the best way to heal and get over it has been being with the first man I ever loved -my Dad. I've learned so much about myself the past few months and it was quite ordained that I spend this much time with my Dad. So all of that to say, we were really looking forward to one last day together, just me and my Dad. It was also the last time for me to enjoy Thailand before I go.

I was going to give a play-by-play of our day but you know what? It's not needed. I'll just say it was wonderful. We had some great father-daughter bonding time. And I want to say to my sister Tara, it wasn't the same without you. Daddy and I missed you with us on this journey. But that's okay, we'll have many more together again!

This morning I woke up and wanted to cry, but for good reasons. I am the happiest I've been in years. I'm blessed for this journey and the self-discovery I've made along the way. I'm looking forward to going home and letting the journey continue. I feel like I'm sounding a little too Oprah-ish so I'll stop now on the life lessons. But a great big thank-you to all of you who read my blogs and shared my adventure with me. Your comments, messages, and emails about my writing have been SO encouraging. I'll keep writing when I get home. That I can promise.

So tomorrow I pack and then the long long journey back. I'm looking forward to not sharing my room with lizards, to taking long bubblebaths, catching up with The Office, and seeing what amazing new doors God is opening for me. Thailand wasn't a dream, it was the beginning of my reality.

Gotta go. London's calling. Or maybe that's Kenya. Hello, Greece?

Completely Covered

But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head ~ Psalm 3:3

I like to be safe, I really really do. I don't like to be hurt. Or scared. Or make myself too vulnerable. Protected. That's what I like. Guarded. And I've been a genius at building walls so I will be safe.... or so I thought. Why is it that when we build walls to protect ourself, we end up being hurt all the more?

This morning I sat down with my tea, opened my Bible and read over the verse above in Psalms. It is a verse I've known for years and yet for some reason I kept staring at it this morning. I didn't turn the page or divert my eyes to another highlighted scripture, but rather focused in on the word "shield." A shield, a protector from an enemy's attack. How perfectly wonderful is it that God is described as that? I thought about last year as I walked through the hardest time in my life. I was a wounded solider. Down. Looking for help. Wondering how I could every possible pull through. I had tried to protect myself. It didn't work. Have you ever been there? Where you feel so beaten that you just pray you have the stength to make it through one more day? I think we all have. I didn't have much to offer, but I began simply to pray the Armor of God verses found in Ephesians 6. I remember when I memorized those verses for Sunday School years ago. We used to act out putting on the belt of truth, or breastplate of righteousness. This time I didn't act it out (really, I didn't!) but I did read through the verses every night and ended with "in all circumstances take up the shield of faith with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one."

I did a brief search on armor today and found out that in Roman times, soliders used to form what is called a testudo. A testudo was a tortise formation in which the soliders, during seiges, could approach the battlefield covered on every side. Did you catch that? Every single side. The way the grouped together and manuvered their shields, they had shields covering them on top, on the sides, on the front and the back.

Although this picture shows their backs vulnerable, truly the were completely covered on every side. Now the only problem with this formation is that it made it harder for them to engage in hand-to-hand combat.

I was thinking about this testudo formation with the verse in Psalms. I like the visual picture it plays out. We might be sent out to battle, but with God as our shield we are covered on every single side. And the neatest part about it is that not only is He our shield, He is also our warrior. We don't have to worry about the hand-to-hand combat problem because He is covering us while He is fighting for us! Second Chronicles 20:15 says, "Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde for the battle is not yours but God's." It continues in 2 Chronicles 20:17, "You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf."

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we should wimper in a ball in the corner and never try to fight. We are all strong, we are called to fight. But what I am saying is that in the desperate moments when you have done all you can to protect yourself and nothing seems to be working, perhaps this is a time you are supposed to step back. Be vulnerable. Tear down the walls. And let God be your shield, your protector, and fight on your behalf. He'll get you through the battle covered on every side. In Psalm 3, David was fleeing for his life. Everyone was against him including his son. And yet David knew the Lord would sustain him.

Honestly, as I went through grief and desperation last fall, and it felt like I wouldn't get through, I simply put my hope in God. He had seen me through hard times before. I remember quite a few years ago when I was dealing with an eating disorder. I had to walk through that minefield with my Bible in hand. God completely covered me as I walked through. It was daily walking it out in order to overcome it. But, by the grace of God, I did. He fought for me. I overcame. But see now I have the tools to win that specific fight. I saw the game plan, I have the equipment, and I can easily defeat the enemy because God showed me how. I let Him fight for me. And then I let Him equip me.

I'm not sure why I felt the need to write this blog tonight, but what I do want to say to all of those who are like me, who do whatever they can to be safe, whether it be hide, build up walls, or create your own false-sense of protection, remember you do have someone fierce fighting for you and with you tonight. He is going before you, He is covering you on every side, and He will show you the victory. Believe in Him, believe in who He has made you to be, and see Him be the lifter of your head.

Thailand pics are up!!!

Okay, attention all you Blogger readers of mine: my pics of Thailand are up! But..... on my MySpace page. To view them, simply go to http://www.myspace.com/tammychuk 24 Click on my profile picture when you get there. It will take you to my photo albums. The "Journey to Thailand" one is the one you want! If you need any help, please let me know!

Muah!

Your Reading Assignment for Today

Okay, a few weeks ago I tried to write this blog on worship (Get Lost in the Music) that was lengthy and probably not the clearest thing ever. But tonight I read a blog from Ricardo Sanchez that very adequately and effectively covers the point I was trying to make. Go read for yourself at http://www.myspace.com/ricardomusic (the blog is called: Keys to Discovering and Unlocking a Lifestyle of Worship)

Ricardo used to lead worship at the Scottsdale Dream Center, lead worship at my uncle's athlete conferences and now leads worship for Jentezen Franklin in Georgia and also, most recently, in the OC. And no, I'm not a promoter! :) But I do think this blog is great.

So happy reading!

Leapin' Lizards!

There was a lizard in my room the other night. We are staying with friends of the family right now in Thailand. Their home is a little older, but still nice; my room has a marble floor for goodness sake. But the other night, as I flipped on the light for my room, a gecko ran down the wall and behind the curtains. I screamed and hightailed it out of the room. My dad and 5 kids came in and stared at me blankly. "It's okay," one of the 9-year-old twins told me. "Yeah," replied his 13-year old sister. "They eat bugs. They're good." I guess lizards are common place over here. It's my fault really. Reptiles are not a good thing back home. Here they are okay. Check. That night I went to bed nervously scanning the walls, pulling my blankets up high over my head, and praying the gecko wouldn't run over me. "He's just eating spiders, he's just eating spiders," I kept repeating to myself. Lizards are better than spiders right? Right??

One thing I've learned on this trip, now that the travel/tourist portion of our journey is over, is that while I love to travel, I am not cut out to be a missionary any time soon. But God bless the ones who are. We are staying in an area where primarily Christian workers and missinaries live. It's kinda like little America/Austrailia over here. It is nice to see what the life of a missionary is like, seeing how this will be my dad's life from now on. Now it might be crazy to hear this, but quite a few of the Christian workers here have housekeepers. But it is not as extravagent as you think. For less then $200 USD a month, a housekeeper comes in full time and will clean, do laundry, iron, everything. Some even cook too. Today, after running some errands, I came home to my sundresses freshly pressed and hanging in my room. It was quite a novelty. That I will miss!! But with young kids to raise, ministries to run, I think the extra help is really a blessing to those missionaries.

Right down the street from us is Grace International School which caters to children of Christian workers. The school is really nice; the pool is probably one of the prettiest I've ever seen! With the cost of housing so low here, I imagine it was inexpensive to build. Every night they have dinner available by the pool. For the 7 of us to eat, drink and get dessert was like 400 baht ($12). The kids played ping pong while we waited for our food to cook. They even made me vegan noodles! It was a nice evening to just sit by the pool in the dusk, especially after so much rain the past few days... well, until the bats came out. Suddenly I was ready to go home.... (do you see a theme forming here?).

Across the street from Grace is a little cafe called Sojo's. Sojo's is cute and quaint; it reminds me of a coffee shop in Tulsa I used to go to a lot. A lot of farangs (foreigners) frequent the place because of its western food offering. It seems to be the place where missionaries get to know each other. "So where are you from? What area do you work in here?" seems to be the normal questions. There are a lot of young families here. While the kids were at soccer practice one day, my dad and I head over to Sojo's for an unsweetened iced tea (hard to find around here) and chips and salsa. I was stoked; I hadn't had salsa in 3 weeks and I live off that stuff. So I'm sipping my iced tea when the chips arrive. They set it down with the little saucer of salsa. You know when you ask for a side of ranch at like Chilis, and they bring out the small condiment dish full of it? Maybe a couple teaspoons worth? Well that's what they served here. Maybe 2 teaspoons of salsa. I looked at it, and seeing as salsa is a food group to me, I knew that would cover me on one chip, maybe two. But know what? I survived. I'll just double up when I get home.

Now when we stray from little America here, we use what's called a songtawl to travel around. Songtawl stands for red truck, and that's exactly what it is. It's a pick-up truck with benches thrown in and a roof. Not the most glamorous thing in the world, and not as cute as the little scooter tuk tuks, but to cart 7 of us around it's cheap and useful. There are hundreds of them here. You just have to be careful while boarding and unloading. I was stepping into the truck today when he took off, I started to fall off the backstep but threw myself forward and landed on the bed of the truck. My dad laughed. I said, "That's one for the blog." They also have these annoying blue trucks driving around with signs and blaring megaphones. If you remember on Back to the Future when a similar truck was driving around saying "Reelect Mayor Goldie Wilson!" Well it's like that but instead of soliciting voters it is for important things like.... eat at Burger King! or, attend Muy Thai boxing tonight! But no, my songtawl took me somewhere very important: to Starbucks and for a manicure-pedicure! (For the records $12 for both. So awesome).

So anyway, we've kinda just settled into every day life in Chiang Mai. No more tourists but living day to day. Chiang Mai is very very pretty and I know my dad is going to love it here. He doesn't mind lizards so much.