Flexing my Discomfort Muscles

My mom picked out bright turquoise for her toenails and while the pedicurist was working away at our feet, she reminisced about the time she took me to the airport the day I was leaving to live in Korea. She said I was standing there at the customs gate, a.k.a the point of no return, crying that I was scared and I didn't want to go.

This time our goodbyes have worked out better; she's leaving for a meditation retreat in Puerto Vallarta 3 days before I head off to Brazil and I'll have only the taxi driver to say goodbye to at the airport. Much better.

Maybe it's because I've been off sugar for a month now, and have had practice with that itchy me-needs-that-cookie feeling, but I've noticed that I'm much more comfortable with discomfort. I was hit by a giant teary wave of sadness as I realized I wouldn't see my mom for a long while, and I just let it be. My first thought was, this big sadness is love. And I felt okay with it.

In his post Discomfort Zone: How to Master the Universe Leo gives lots of ideas on how to master discomfort and ways to start. I especially like using meditation. Just the idea of sitting still for a few minutes makes most people uncomfortable never mind a left toe falling asleep, a right ear itching, a butt cramp, and a back ache that quickly crop up as quietness settles in. But noticing and overcoming these little aches and pains is an easy way to become used to discomfort.

Moving to Brazil will be an adventure sure to be exciting, and at times it will be too hot, too crowded, too disorganized, too loud, too salty, too weird, too slow, too polluted, too scary, too late, too different, but to follow this quote that landed in my email today: "Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment." (Oneness With All Life), I'll take it all, even the annoying discomforts.

Packing Kids Toys

Ah! I love Value Village, don't you? Last summer, when I got my sewing machine, I went there and found a huge bag of different colored zippers mostly about a hand's length. So you ask, what are you going to do with these zippers, make mini parkas for the kids' stuffed animals? Cute idea, but no.  I've made a ton of pouches for all the multi-piece toys we plan to bring to Brazil with us.  They pack way better than boxes and the kid already knows which game is inside by the color of the zipper. I've also made some for myself to contain my art supplies, jewelry, intimates, etc...Definitely my newest favorite thing.

In Search of Fish Tacos in Rio de Janeiro

So I've been challenged these days. Can you guess what's been the most challenging?

The 3 week cough that went away for a day and then returned as a head cold?
The yummy gingerbread people in my cupboard, singing carols on a continuous loop, testing my patience, knowing that the only way to shut them up is to eat them?
The crusty road rash spread across my son's face after a nasty face plant off his bike?
Telling my mother that her Friday dates with her grandson will be on hold until we come back from our 2 year relocation to Brazil?
Is it the paper chase and important document round-up?
Is it listening to a prospective renter tell me that she's been living in a former grow-op full of mold, mice and electrical issues while her other place is being re-mediated for leaks, and on and on and oh, by the way, do I think that it would be okay to keep a 5 foot freezer full or frozen middle-eastern food on the back patio?
Is it the ever growing list of things to do before we leave? Nope, none of those things.

Staying in the moment is the real challenge. That and doing less. For a few days, I carried around a mental list of "things we need to bring", mostly spurred on by expats in Rio listing off everything they miss from home, and I suddenly I had this belief that I need certain things to be comfortable while I'm away; like my natural toothpaste, and certain type of sandals for my kid, and a blow up pool to set on the bottom of the showers 'cause they don't have tubs, and a life jacket for swimming in the pool at grandpa's and a replacement-less-fancy-so-I-don't-get-mugged wedding ring to wear while I'm down there, and hard-to-find spices and.... Are you reading this insanity?

Those things don't matter. Yes, there will be things down there that cost more, some things will be hard to find or impossible to find and I will miss organic dark chocolate, fish tacos and English books, but that's all part of the adventure, isn't it? Because if it's all like home, then why go at all, right?

In the end, there will be a suitcase sitting at the foot of my bed. There will be only a limited amount of space. Us three, will be on that plane, together, but our suitcases might be bound for Taiwan by mistake...

In the end, someone else might be living in our house,
they might decide to store a skidoo or a stuffed moose on the back patio.
Or maybe our house will stay vacant, quietly waiting for us to come home.

In the end, we'll say goodbye to loved ones and we will cry.
And later, especially when the kid does something cool
or when we're celebrating something special,
we'll wish we could be with them for real.

So, to meet this challenge, here's what I've done in this moment; I've put a ready-made frozen lasagna in the oven, I've sat myself down on the couch while my kid watches cartoons, and I'm looking at photos of our past trips to Brazil, remembering all that is wonderful about it. Mission accomplished!

In Vancouver, maybe a seal would swim up to your boat, but in Brazil it's a manatee!

Now, that's what I call a vacation!

My father-in-law makes my favorite Brazilian dish; prawn and cassava stew!

Farmer's Market

This is the beach in Barra the Tijuca, where I'll be living. No seaweed here!

Can't wait to take the kid up to see the Corcovado on the train!

Family Month of May

I haven't posted at all this month, mainly because it's been a month of family visits. Some came to stay and I traveled back east to see some others. Mostly family I rarely see because of the distances and the price of air tickets. I do have to say though that a trip to Quebec, even with sitting in a traffic jam on a dilapidated overpass  in downtown Montreal is a breeze compared to the 24 hr, delirium inducing trip to Rio de Janeiro. Canada is just so darn big, and Brazil so darn far. I envy the folks in Europe who with such civility ride a cozy train across a picturesque country side while reading the paper and sipping on a spritzer, while us Canadians have to shlep our carefully weighted carry-on and sit behind a screaming child while picking apart a soggy, overpriced sandwich.

Canadian Airlines should offer a "buy 3 get one free" promotion for family members sharing the same last name and traveling domestically. That way we can all reunite more often and discover our own country. I've never been to PEI, the Yukon, Nunavut or the Northwest Territories. Most of the others were a drive though. One of my uncles has a family pool going for a lottery, and if we win, the money would be used to have a giant family reunion. I miss them, my family. I feel sad that I'm a long-distance aunt and sister-in-law.

My East Coast Brother, Julien

Looking More Prettier than Yesterday

"Oh, you look more prettier than yesterday! You should wear more make-up like today. You look like Michelle Pfeiffer!" exclaimed my female Korean co-workers as I walked in the staff room. "Are you insane? First of all, I wasn't wearing make-up yesterday, just like I'm not wearing make-up today, and every Westerner looks Michelle Pfeiffer to you." I thought to myself as I veered off to the male teacher's lounge.

Even after 3 years in Korea, watching women whip out their make-up powders and patting their faces during a meal at a restaurant, I still couldn't get used to it. That was more than 10 years ago and I had almost forgotten this "cultural difference" until a few weeks ago when I was riding a crowded skytrain and saw a young woman putting on mascara and using that curling-scissor thingy to curl her eyelashes. And then it all came back to me.

In the building where I worked, it wasn't uncommon to ride the elevator with a young Korean woman accompanied by her mother on the way to the underground parkade. Hiding her face with a baseball cap, she had finally received her high school graduation present: Double eyelid plastic surgery. Apparently a very common procedure to look more westernized before starting university. When I graduated I got a camera.

Korean ladies are not alone in bonding over beauty talk. Being married to a Brazilian man, I cannot attend a social function without the Brazilian ladies comparing notes about where to get the cheapest manicure, and isn't it super expensive in Vancouver? and on and on... this misconception of mine that Brazilian women are naturally gorgeous, sun-kissed and healthy from dancing the samba on the beach was wrong. It takes work! Naturally! Stupid me.

As I was researching cultural differences in beauty, I fell upon British photographer, Zed Nelson's book, Love me. It has beautiful and disturbing pictures collected over 5 years across 17 countries of cosmetic surgeons, beauty queens, anorexics, body builders, night clubbers, housewives and soldiers. These photographs clearly display our collective obsession with beauty, social approval and the beauty industry that governs us. I don't claim not to be influenced by media and the beauty industry, sometimes I am, but honestly, I'm one of those girls who has one eyeliner. I wear some on special occasions and wipe it off 'cause it's old and it itches and makes me look like I've been crying from one eye. I don't own a blow dryer, or a lipstick or perfume.  My daily beauty regime consists of a shower and a bit of blush to take attention away from the dark circles under my eyes. In the summer, I treat myself to one manicure/pedicure at the start of the warm weather and watch it disappear around Christmas.

Just this Friday, I went for my first manicure of the year at a little Chinese salon on Victoria Street. I took a deep breath as I spotted on the door a poster with different styles of lips and eyebrows you can have done with permanent marker (oops, I mean, make-up). I'll take the "Pretty Princess" lips and the "Happy Rainbow" eyebrows!  That poster scares me.

At the entrance two over-sized, space, recliner, massage chairs for pedicures took up most of the space. Along one wall, there were shelves with dusty knickknacks, and posters about fat-sucking robot machines. Large photos of the 2011 Miss Chinese of Vancouver pageant winners posing with the shop owner were hung randomly around the room. The windows were crowded with dusty pink blinds, Christmas lights and security bars. The two young women who greeted me were wearing matching polyester smocks and flip flops. Why are so many salons who specialize in beautifying, so darn unappealing?

I quickly zoned out on the mix of bad spa music and the buzz of a broken indoor water fountain while my young manicurist painted my nails. One tendon snapping arm massage later, and a pretty decent manicure, I was charged only $16.05 including tax. Okay, so I'm comparing like my Brazilian friends, but that sure beats paying $25 on the westside.

So where am I going with this? I guess it's a personal reminder to continue to love my body and my enjoy my beauty quietly. To keep it simple. To have a bit of humor with the ridiculous lengths the beauty industry will go to make us feel inadequate and to not propagate our insecurities among each other. To focus on each other's smiles and stick flowers in our hair.

Me, my boy and my sister in law looking good in Cabo Frio, Brazil