how can we keep ignoring?

On Sunday I went up to help out at a showing of 'girl.' It's a multimedia show that centers around the beautiful photography of Jimi Allen, who took a trip to Thailand with my Dad in February of 2004 and documented the stories of a few women who work in the bars and my parents' call to help them. It's amazing, thought-provoking, and a little disturbing.

On Sunday the show was presented at a large church in Rockford, IL. After the service people began meandering down the hall, and a few trickled in to the show. Many stopped and looked at the sign on the door, and I started asking, "Would you like to view the show?" Many said no, but I think it was because they were harried by lunch-grumpy little children. One older couple walked by quickly, but I saw the man tug on his wife's elbow and heard him say,

"Wait. I want to see the pictures."

They turned and walked to the doorway, where I greeted them with my best greeter smile. The man peeked into the room and asked what the show was about. Was it part of the Master's Commission at the church? No, I explained, this was a multimedia gallery that told the stories of women who work in Bangkok's red light districts and of the missionaries who work to remind them what real love looks like. I saw a wave of interest flash across the woman's eyes, but the man looked a little shocked, then turned gruffly and said,

"We really need to go."

He used the same elbow-tug technique and, within seconds, they were gone.

I was stunned, and a little angry. But my anger gave way to a deep sadness, one that went beyond me.

I understand the need to protect our hearts and minds from the evil parts of the world. Paul reminds us to think about things that are admirable and excellent, and prostitution is neither. But when our refusal to see evil things invades us to a place where our hearts no longer ache with the desire to see the evil ended, we allow it to triumph. By insulating ourselves in a happy Christian world, we leave the world Jesus made and loves to rot from the inside out.

Another elderly, hesitant couple decided to come in, and the wife later came up to me with tears in her eyes, nearly unable to speak. I asked if she would like to leave a comment, and she nodded. As we were packing up, I flipped through the book and found her words. Blinking to hold back my tears, I read,

"How can we keep ignoring?"

thai day

Like my new template?

Today was a Thai day. I started this morning by writing down words in english and in Thai script and posting them in my room. When I see them, I 'read' the Thai words and pay attention to the script. They say a five-year-old needs 2-3 thousand literacy hours in order to learn to read well, so I have a lot to catch up on. We'll see how it works. I wonder if there is a Thai equivalent to Dr. Suess...

Ben and I went to Thai Spice for dinner. They changed owners a few months ago and we'd heard mixed reviews, but the food was great. Not quite spicy enough, but excellent in a bland sort of way. I love rice. It meets a need in my soul. Sort of like peanut m&ms, and if you understand the depth of my addiction to peanut m&ms, you'll understand the gravity of that statement. Rice is a beautiful thing. It reminds me of living in Asia.

I rounded it out by reading dad's blog and then watching youtube videos of Songkran, the national Thai New Year's celebration where everyone wears Hawai'ian shirts and throws water at everyone, even innocent bystanders. I've never seen a Songkran, but it is on my list of things to do before I die.

Now I'm trying to finish the guest list for my wedding and starting to wish we'd chosen to elope. Oh well.

fact of the day

Double entry bookkeeping was invented by a magician. I wish he'd make my taxes disappear. A la peanut butter sandwiches!

Man, I really miss being four some days.

Real entry soon to come.

reality, age three

In one of my education classes, the teacher likes to go off-topic and go on and on about how tv is bad for little kids because they need to experience the real, 3-d world in order for their little brains to develop, which, of course, reminded me of being three.

Remember the old 1970 tootsie pop commercial? When I was a very small being, I didn't realize that commercials repeat. So I thought that the dumb kid kept giving his candy to that meanie bird with a funny hat who never counted the licks properly, the cheating scumbag. I tried yelling at the kid to warn him that the owl was a conniving candy thief. When that didn't work, I nailed the owl on the head with a toy. To this day I still get miffed at that blasted owl.

(If you can't get the youtube, here are the storyboards to the original commercial)

stress and nausea

Without a doubt, this last weekend was one of the most miserable I have ever had in my life.

There is nothing more disheartening than staying up until 2 am, waking up at 6:30 and working all day until 12:30 am on the next day to finish a huge, sixty-one page long, quarter-of-your-final-grade assignment. Unless, of course, you spend most of that interminably long time dry-heaving into a mixing bowl. Then it's like dying over and over and over again.

I made it. Barely. I still feel shaky all over and I'm super behind on everything else, so if I kind of hide out this month it isn't because I don't love you. I do.

Did I mention that all the crocuses bloomed?