Baci Abroad Blog
Writing from Within a Government Quarantine
I can look outside my window right now and see Rosa, my favorite whisky and cocktail bar. I am currently housed in a hotel in E-Cool, two blocks away from my apartment. But I’m not home yet.
Wondering if there are any super humans who want to order me a Plum Girl and climb up a rope from my window to deliver my favorite cocktail?
I was lucky to get on a flight from Phuket to Hong Kong yesterday morning. Most flights out of Phuket were canceled as more restrictions are now in place, starting today, Thursday, March 19th. Any travelers arriving to Hong Kong from this day forward will have to do a 14-day quarantine in Hong Kong before traveling to their next destination, even if the next destination is Mainland China. This means if I would have landed 10 hours after I did, I would have been subjected to 28 days of quarantine as China does not count the quarantine in Hong Kong. I am an introvert, but not a hermit.
The plane ride and arrival to Hong Kong was uneventful. The fun began at the border crossing. After crossing through the Hong Kong side, those of us returning to the mainland were greeted by many, many staff in Hazmat suits.
I waited in a line for about two hours to fill out a number of forms asking about where I had come from and the status of my health.
After a number of hours, I was eventually color-coded with a sticker that identified which part of Shenzhen I live in. This sticker would indicate which hotel I would be brought to for my quarantine.
I spent about an hour in one of these fancy chairs with this view waiting to be placed on a bus
I landed myself in a hotel quarantine rather than a “normal” home quarantine for the time being because Thailand was put on the hot list of countries that China considers most dangerous in terms of spreading the virus right now. Also on that list: South Korea, the Philippines, Italy and The United States. Some six hours after landing in Hong Kong, I arrived at the Fuzon hotel, my three-star quarantine abode.
It was nice to be placed in a hotel in my own stomping ground. Rosas out my window is a bit of tease, though.
Before I could get in to my room, there was more waiting around. I was hangry, I was exhausted. I was waiting for this ... j
ust your run-of-the-mill coronavirus swab. Crossing my fingers my results are back tomorrow so that I might sleep in my own bed soon.
After the swab, I was offered a sheet with the rules for my stay:
“Warm” tips. Living a life lived in translation is everything.
After falling into my hotel bed — which, to be honest, is comfortable and clean — just before midnight, I slept for some six hours. I close my eyes and find myself back in my bed at CCs, next to a beautiful man, laughing and talking. Or snuggled in my bed on Phi Phi Islands with the ocean just outside my door. Life right now is quite the contrast to what I was lucky enough to live for over three weeks.
After I got up today, I put my yoga practice on hold for the moment and got down with a Dirty 30 workout — I’ll find a way to fit burpees in to any space.
Jeana Anderson Cohen, founder of asweatlife.com, says, “If you have a body, you have a gym.”
A good portion of the afternoon was spent grading essays and listening to one hit wonders from the late 90s and dancing around my hotel room. I am going to make the most of this crazy situation. No diggity, no doubt.
Lunch did leave a bit to be desired. My biggest criticism of my situation is that I am not allowed any food deliveries. I do not know why this is as I know people at other hotels who are able to order food or receive deliveries from friends.
Ufff daaaa. I am not at CC’s anymore, eating fresh curry and sipping Muay Thai smoothies, that is for sure.
Buuut, that I was able to receive a delivery from my friend and apartment neighbor. She snuck some chocolate past the food police and it did make my day. The craviance (remember from the past post that this is the new word for “an ambiance of elegance”) of my hotel was greatly ameliorated by these small candles, magnetic words for poetry play and dark chocolate.
I am now about to crash hard-core here. It is going to take some time to get my bearings back in Shenzhen. What does just warm my heart is that In the 20 hours that I have spent here in “solitary confinement,” my director and administrators have called and messaged to check in, to see what they can do for me, within their means, to just say, ”I’m here.” My friends have offered to talk at any time, to arrange times for people to call in so that it feels a little less like being alone. Alli and Charles were able to also drop off a portable wifi device with a built-in VPN, so working for the hotel room is a bit smoother now. When Community wraps its arms around you, well, to me, if feels as good as my weighted blanket waiting for me on the bed in my apartment.
It is community that is everything right now. We must take great care of ourselves, and we must take great care of each other. Extending more gratitude tonight for the communities I am fortunate enough to give to and receive from.
Love, peace, and good vibes, from inside of my quarantine. XOXO,
Love in the Time of Corona
”The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.” —Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
As I opened up my Instagram at one point today, the first post that appeared was my friend Danielle’s. This spirited teacher friend of mine has been in Italy since Chinese New Year. Early in her trip, which has turned in to a temporary residency, she met Marco. Today, Marco proposed, and Danielle said yes. Love in the time of the novel coronavirus is real, indeed. I am toasting Danielle and Marco with my Chang beer from the Phi Phi Islands tonight. Yours, my friend, is quite the origin story.
In this time of great uncertainty, love is not the only thing that arises. As humans, we have all kinds of reactions to fear, some of them more shadowy than others. A number of my students have recently flown from South Korea back to China. One of my students has been sending regular updates to his teachers as his situation has impeded his ability to attend to his academics. In one recent email he wrote:
I hope you are all having a wonderful afternoon. While it was a really wild week, my mom and I were able to get into our residential area through the parking lot without much drama, most likely due to strong responses from the Shenzhen government to the residents. We are back home now, without much trouble. Thank you for your understanding this past week. Now, I can get back into working without any problems.
(Also, the reason why we didn't get in on Thursday or Friday was because of the residents' reactions. Friday was especially wacky, as we basically had to stand in front of the gate while everyone was taking pictures of us and shouting "go back to quarantine virus!". A very wacky day, indeed.)
Go back to quarantine virus?! My goodness. My heart hurt when I read that. I know that Elliott is not the only one experiencing people uttering words that cause distress and acting in hurtful ways. Ignorance does not discriminate —- it enters all cultures; without deep awareness of ourselves, anyone is capable of letting their shadow cast darkness over others. It’s human nature. But so is it human nature to cast light, to shed rays of love and hope and support on others.
In addition to Danielle’s beautiful story, scrolling Instagram also led me down a reflective path, considering just some of the actions we can take to support one another and our communities right now, as Covid-19 makes it way around the globe. I love theconciouskid — this feed always has me thinking about leveling up my consciousness and seeing other perspectives. Especially now, it feels so important to consider how our decisions will financially impact others’ ability to pay their bills. .
I am reading what Jimmy wrote here, asking myself, “Who are the most vulnerable populations
in my part of Shenzhen? What can I do to support them?
GuanteSolo is one of my new fave humans. His podcast What’s Good, Man? is legit. So is his spirit of serving humanity.
As I am curled into bed for my last night on Phi Phi Island, I am continuing to consider what kind of light I am casting onto those around me. I have been living large for three weeks. I have been loving it. I also want to make sure that I am serving others and thinking of what the world around me needs. Right now, this in part means offering as much pastoral care to my students as possible. I am working to wrap my arms around them, figuratively, by reaching out through email and video chats. I think there is more, though. I am sure there is.
I am just thinking about the power we all have to bring Higher Love to our respective geographic spaces. (This dance video is still forthcoming, by the way!) It has been through the love extended to me in the past 8 weeks, by my friends, family, therapist, everyone that I have connected with at CC’s, that I have felt so sustained in this crazy, ambiguous world. So, let’s keep loving.
I am going to peace out here as beachside stays always bring on my narcolepsy. In closing, a number of photos to celebrate the beauty of this part of Thailand, a country of such kind people, and a country I am eternally grateful to have landed in.
This has been my morning view as I have walked out of my bungalow each day. I am arising early tomorrow for a sunrise swim.
The flora and fauna of Thailand will entreat you to pause time and again and just breathe in gratitude.
I could write from here for forever. And ever and ever. To hell with logic and reason. I’m buying real estate on this island.
Honestly, though. Thailand. XOXO
Writing from Phuket, this Side of Paradise
I feel like I have lived a lifetime since I last wrote an update in the Life and Times of the Coronavirus. Some days, it has felt that an entire Universe has existed inside of that one day. Two weeks and three days ago, I left Shenzhen for Phuket, Thailand. I was hesitant to leave at first, actually. I had settled into such a routine in Shenzhen, and I felt safe and secure in this routine; changing locales felt a bit riskier, at least that was my perception. Originally, for spring break, I was supposed to go to Taiwan for a yoga retreat. When Covid-19 hit, Taiwan closed their borders to China, so Plan A was foiled. I was disappointed, but I decided I would make my own personal yoga retreat in Shenzhen, until I came out a discussion with my therapist having decided to take a chance on a retreat in Thailand, one of the last countries to keep their borders open.
As I reflect on this decision, it feels like the Universe had conspired to make it so from the beginning. The past two weeks have offered space for my heart to open and expand and sigh into beautiful spaces. Before I left Shenzhen, I was worried that I would lose my writer’s flow, and while writing has not been a priority in Phuket, being in a flow state sure has persisted.
The first days in Phuket were spent on the beach. The woman in this photo did not yet know the trajectory of the trip. I have extended my stay twice so far, finding just what I have needed here in Thailand.
My days have been spent practicing yoga in the morning and evening, and in between, spending time with some of the best souls and living in the moments. If you find yourself seeking a place of solace in Southeast Asia, I must highly recommend CC’s Hideaway. The curry is delicious, the smoothies are divine, the yoga is transcendent, and the staff is so, so warm.
For me, what has also been extraordinary about this time is that my anxiety has been kept in check. For anyone, a time of such uncertainty can cause a great deal of stress and anxiety, and understandably so. Somehow, I have leaned into the uncertainty, and it feels that my spirit has used the life I am living at a slower pace to level up. I have seen and felt a great deal of fear around me, and yet I have continued to maintain a state of wellness for myself.
Thailand has been liberating. And that liberation, and the centered feeling I continue to be in touch with, looks a bit like this ...
Slow afternoons have sometimes given way to nights of dancing, followed by swimming in the middle of the night under the light of a full moon.
These folks are such good energy. Looking at this photo, I consider how special it is when you cross paths with the right people at the right time.
I watched a shooting star streak across a corner of the sky as I turned my attention away from the moon for a moment during our moonlit swim. It seems that some of the world has gone daft with the current viral state of affairs; my world, though, floats in a sea of just right moments. I have deep gratitude for what this time and space is allowing me to explore.
This morning, I am preparing for the first yoga practice of the day, and then I will get online to connect with my students. Teaching from Thailand is a bit harder than teaching from Shenzhen, but I will not complain about teaching from paradise. I have been meditating on words that I heard from my first yoga instructor here: More open heart, More happy life.
One of my favorite poets, Rumi, once wrote,
“There’s a morning when presence comes
over your soul. You sing like a rooster
in your earth-colored shape. Your heart
hears and, no longer frantic, begins
to dance.”
Wherever you are, I hope that you find space for deep movement, for peace, and for presence.
Sending lots of love from Thailand,
Jame
10 Thinks I Love About You
As an English teacher, I am working with 10th-grade learners to write analytical essays about various books that they have been reading. In the spirit of some of their essays, I will begin with a quote. Like some of my budding writers are doing, I will place it here, without context, and then walk away. You decide what it means to you, or to me, after reading today's post.
“I know you can be underwhelmed, and you can be overwhelmed, but can you ever just be, like, whelmed?” ~10 Things I Hate About You
10. I love you, Patacon, for your cuddles and company. But I have like one rule in this house, and I hate it when you break it. Please take your paws off of my pillow.
9. I love you, Sun, for rising in the east. And I love you, Shenzhen, for keeping so many factories closed so that we can see the hills of Hong Kong through a clear sky, rather than through the smog.
8. I love you, Hobbs Household, for bringing the fun.
7. I love you, Ann, for being the friend and collaborator that you are. Thank you for recording audio for "The Handsomest Drowned Man" -- I think that our SIS students are fortunate to have teachers sending all the love with all sorts of gestures. Craig, thank you in advance for understanding this office is more ours than yours. The future is female. The present is the future.
6. I love you, Brother Tom, for sending me the Vitamix. This is my first creation. I'm sorry that I couldn't have you over for dessert.
5. I love you, Cass, for cutting and coloring my hair. Getting my haircut was a little scary today, and I wished that I could have been sitting in your chair. The stylist did say, "Highlights very good!"
4. I love you, self-quarantiners, for choosing to stay inside. I am an introvert living in a city of over 13 million people, and now I feel like Goldilocks when she sleeps in brother's bed.
3. I love you, Silvie, for believing that you should come to the beach with me. While you are currently barred from leaving China, I am not, and so I must go, and you must stay.
2. I love you, Beck and Stone, for taking in my screaming orange and white cat. She does not realize that I have not sent her to get more teeth pulled, but rather that she will be at the kitty spa. She'll settle in after some time. Or maybe she won't.
1. I love you, Shenzhen, for putting all sorts of restrictions in place. I cannot see my friends much since we cannot enter one another's homes (unless we sneak). We cannot eat inside of most restaurants. But we can celebrate that in the past three days, the city has not reported any new cases of COVID-19.
So, as you can see, there is underwhelming stuff, overwhelming stuff, and then just the whelming. And that's my essay. I mean my blog post. K, ttys.
Buttery, the Story of a Neighborhood Café
It's Sunday afternoon. Lulu, the owner of my favorite neighborhood café, Buttery, moves about her open concept kitchen space gracefully. She's making lattes and delivering them in small artsy mugs to the few of us here working today. As Lulu moves over to the stove to check on her chili, Mary Wells' words Nothing you can say can tear me away from my guy/ Nothing you could do 'cause I'm stuck like glue to my guy softly float into the air from a tiny iPod placed underneath the table with hand-crafted jewelry that Lulu sells in the cafe.
Those of us enjoying this warm space today are breathing in the aroma of blueberry, raspberry and blackberry jams simmering on the stovetop. Fresh pumpkin spice and blueberry scones are propped up in front of me, deservingly elevated on a cake stand -- the flavors from Buttery have been raising the community's spirits for the past three weeks, the same amount of time fears and restrictions from the novel coronavirus have been spreading.
Lulu opened Buttery in May of 2019. I remember catching a glimpse of the café as I descended Nanshan Mountain in the spring. I peaked in a couple of times, but it wasn't until this fall that I opened the door and ventured inside her haven.
"This is so much of my love," Lulu told me as we sat down to talk last week, a lull in the afternoon business opening up space for some storytelling. When you walk into Buttery, you feel the love, the warmth, the sense of community that emanates outwards from Lulu into the space surrounding her.
Lulu at her industrial-sized mixer. She bakes bread daily.
The set-up of the café is an open-concept kitchen with a horseshoe of small tables and chairs surrounding one end of the cooking space. The decor is eclectic: carved gnomes stand on a shelf along with hand-crafted pottery and other knick-knacks; it's not kitschy, nor does it exude sophistication. The entire space works together to embrace you; you have the warm feeling of having just eaten your grandmother's best comfort food even before you've sunk your fork into Lulu's homemade dishes.
Photo courtesy of Lulu
The menu at Buttery is inspired by Lulu's memories of watching her grandmother cook homemade recipes for the Chinese New Year. As Lulu and I continued to sit and talk, her tone becoming more animated, she told me of how she wants people to understand that wholesome eating is achievable.
Soup Joumou, steaming with pumpkin, chunks of savory beef, squash carrots and fragrant herbs. Photo courtesy of Lulu.
In 2006, Lulu met her husband, Kodiak, at a wellness center in Harbin Hot Springs, California. Lulu's friends brought her to the retreat after she volunteered at an event for Obama's campaign in the Bay Area. Kodiak was helping to build a temple at the hot springs.
As the two were getting to know each other, Lulu shared with Kodiak her dream to open a café someday. "What will you sell there," he laughed, "frozen food from Trader Joe's?" Lulu stubbornly told him that living her younger years in Shanghai and Shenzhen, she knew about cooking fresh food. When he asked her to make something, she didn't have any recipes at her fingertips ... yet.
Kodiak and Lulu's relationship deepened, and the two moved to Mendocino County in 2007. They were surrounded by people who were growing their own vegetables and Lulu's consciousness of the impact of whole foods on our health deepened. She began spending time with new friends who taught her about growing her own food. She began to read and watch videos about food science. She began to experiment with making her own bread. She noticed how she felt when she ate such fresh foods.
You can dine in or out at Buttery. It is placed on a quiet corner, so it offers the perfect nook for some reading. Photo courtesy of Lulu.
After spending five years in Mendocino County, Lulu and Kodiak made the move to China. In 1983, when Lulu was four years old, she had moved to Shenzhen with her family from Shanghai. Over 30 years later, her return to Shenzhen would see the realization of the dream that she had shared with Kodiak, though not for some years still.
Lulu and Kodiak opened a language center once they had settled into Shenzhen. In a small space at the learning center, Lulu began to bake fresh goods such as bread and scones. In time, two food bloggers stumbled upon the space and wrote about her "mysterious confidence."
Over time, Lulu and her husband grew tired of teaching English at the center they had opened. Their vision did not always match what parents who sent their children wanted. When Lulu and Kodiak received a strong offer for the space, they sold the center, serendipitously drawing Lulu even closer to the location that would become Buttery.
On Sundays, Lulu, Kodiak and their son, four-year-old Atticus, came to Shekou to walk Nanshan Mountain. One day, as they were dining on their favorite dumplings after a hike, they noticed that there was a vacant storefront nearby. In January of 2019, Lulu and Kodiak began renovations and five months later Buttery opened to the public.
The public includes the neighborhood cats. When Lulu saw this sweet one outside, she rushed to her refrigerator to get fresh, organic chicken to serve her.
"I remember the day that you first came in," Lulu told me. "You were the first foreigner to order my chicken." I feel special in this moment, that I have somehow made a mark on Lulu. The truth is, I have, but so has everyone else that has entered Buttery. Lulu has a knack for names, and for remembering others' stories. It is, in part, the reason why, even after a lull in business from July until October, the café is now thriving. At Buttery, you are at home.
Most days, during this coronavirus outbreak, I have snuggled right into a chair here, feeling safe and cozy. While many restaurants have remained closed, Lulu has kept Buttery open, becoming a haven for the community.
Lulu uses her calligraphy to communicate to café visitors that we all live under the same sky and the same moon. We are one, she reminds us as she paints this Buddhist message.
As we close our conversation today, I am getting ready to go cuddle with the cats, and Lulu is getting ready to return home to Kodiak and Atticus, she leans towards me, and says, "Life just kind of takes you ... you plan ... but what's inside of you drives you. You will say verbally what you want to do, but in the end, you will be driven to where your heart is."
Update, May 5, 2022
The pandemic has brought so much change to the world, on global and community scales. Not so long after this article was first posted, Lulu and her family left China for Japan. Since Kodiak does not have a Chinese passport, the family was locked out of China long term. Due to these circumstances, Lulu and her family moved to the United States where they have extended family. Last we spoke, her spirits were high and she was doing well.
Reporting from China: Just Add Oil
This weekend saw Shekou, my little bubble of Shenzhen, tightening up on restrictions and protocols in order to continue to work to contain the virus. Published in the Shekou Daily, the new rules decreed that "Residents in residential buildings shall not visit other households in the same complex, and must strictly adhere to the requirements for wearing masks in public places." Having lived in China for four years and having been in Shenzhen since the coronavirus outbreak began, this kind of restriction does not feel to me now what it might have felt in years before. As it stands now, some buildings are not enforcing the rule as strictly as others, so a few of us did get to gather last night for some Exploding Kittens and Fishbowl shenanigans.
Charles appears quite tranquil in the midst of what Trey seems to be communicating as an epic ... something.
Katie, caught mid-gesture -- I think this was in describing ... newborn baby poop?
Which of those cards is going to save you from the exploding kitten, Alli?
Other members of the Shekou community who have decided to stay on in Shenzhen have put up tents for their children on their balconies, offering a new experience in the midst of masks and large periods indoors. This same primary teacher, the nature and bug loving Kevin O'Shea, has a vlog on YouTube that I highly recommend checking out -- you get daily insights into what the city really looks and feels like through his videos and narrations.
Before staying up until midnight (I felt young again), Alli, Ann, Charles and I started our day with a run at Talent Park, a lovely area with sculptures and a cushy running path that circles a small body of water.
New rules also say that while in open spaces, we do not have to wear a mask. The air quality on Saturday was perfection.
These three logged many more miles than I did -- 17 in total!
After running a 5k, I meandered along, taking time to stop and breathe into the balance of lovely art.
And this -- sending out Love to Wuhan, and to the whole wide world.
Today I got busy brunching with my fellow midwesterners. We dined at Gaga Garden. Again, we were the only ones, save for the employees who took a seat at a nearby table.
I am not entirely sure what the purpose of the red caution tape is -- and I cannot read the sign.
Craig and Ann and a cup of coffee. My kind of slow Sunday.
This is the state of my life right now. As I continue to feel safe in Shenzhen, I am also fortunate to be enjoying a slow, mindful pace, something I have not felt in many years. There is a part of me, the adventurous and very privileged part, that considers meeting up with my family in California or getting on a plane to Thailand. The seeker in me, though, has me staying put. My soul has been seeking this rhythm for so long, one that allows me to think more clearly, appreciate my sense of presence, and enjoy what is rather than wanting more.
Staying put in Shenzhen has also meant that I have had more opportunities to hear the stories of my immediate community. Tonight I was fortunate enough to cook for a new SIS friend, our primary school librarian, Megan, who also lives in my building. As a fellow cat woman, we shared stories of how our felines came to find us. We shared stories of living abroad ... and we shared a lot of vegetables.
Two whole bowls are better than one. This is the year of #wholebowls for me and my kitchen, and my gut biome (I am so that nerd right now) has been thanking me.
I feel blessed to be in Shenzhen, feeling settled in my high-rise apartment. I also feel especially blessed to have the option still to leave if that settled feeling changes. I know that during this outbreak, so many do not have the same options or sense of security.
One of our SIS administrators sent out a video this evening that returns our attention to the unsung heroes in Wuhan, the doctors, and medical staff that are bravely serving those who are sick.
The video is in English and has subtitles in English.
In closing, tonight, my friends and family all over the world, Jiāyóu加油
Add oil as the Chinese saying goes.
Reporting from China: Another Call for Higher Love
I've just returned from a date with the Denson's. Dinner "out on the (ghost) town" felt like a real event given the way we've been laying so low this week. We first went to a Hong Kong-style eatery named Gaga Garden, only to walk in and find that it was closing for the night. It felt like this ...
I don't know how to smize very well, but I think it's clear that I can pout with my eyes. This look did nothing to convince Gaga to stay open an extra hour. Ho Hum.
We ventured a bit further into Seaworld and this led us to Baia, a restaurant owned by a couple of European men that serves "upper-scale" food. I had the best meal that I have had in three weeks, the amount of time that I been Candida cleansing. Alli, Charles and I had the entire restaurant to ourselves -- we did choose to eat outside in the open fresh air.
I'm ever so grateful to be a third wheel with this duo. These two are my kind of happy hour.
The fine dining dinner did feel well-deserved after finishing our first week of online teaching and learning -- as an online educator now, I am definitely learning about how to reach all of my students through various modes. Altogether, though, it seems the instruction has generally been effective this week, and I do feel connected to my students, even from a distance.
While I have worked to separate church and state, for the most part, going to school and to Buttery to type out lesson plans and send audio feedback to my kids, yesterday I decided to work from home in the afternoon. .
Mom has always said, watch your children when they are sleeping (because when they are being pills while awake you'll be able to remember that they have sweet moments).
While my new routine has begun to feel quite comfortable, my heart feels weighted with how some of the world continues to respond to the new virus that came out of a city in China that was hardly on most people's maps until last week.
My friend and her family decided to fly home while we are not physically in school. The neighbors caught wind of my friend's family's arrival and interrogated her mother about where my friend and her family had been exactly. The neighbor was worried that her child, with a more compromised immune system, might catch the virus from the family just home from China. While I think we can empathize with a mother's fears for her child, her call to my friend's mother wreaked of ignorance.
My sense of the world's perception of the virus is that it has gotten the stigma it seems to have because it came out of a wet market in a country that doesn't have "great relations" with the US. A wet market is particularly foreign in a way that incites disgust, perhaps, and misunderstanding along cultural lines.
John Pomfret, for The Washington Post, writes, "At a middle school a few blocks from my house, a rumor circulated among the children that all Asian kids have the coronavirus and should be quarantined. Misinformation has also reached higher education: In college campuses across the United States, some non-Asian students have acknowledged avoiding Asian classmates for no other reason than, well, the coronavirus came from Asia."
This is rough stuff: xenophobia, ignorance, and baseless assumptions. To look at someone as a walking virus is to deny a person the very humanity that should lead us to care more deeply for one another.
I know, though, that it's not the whole story. I know there are communities of us working to share truth and love and open our arms to one another.
And here is when I put in another plug for you to join the #internationalhigherlovedanceteam. I have a handful of videos so far from friends and family, and it would be amazing to muster up more, of everyone dancing to Higher Love. Do whatever your soul moves you to do as Whitney belts out:
Think about it, there must be a higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above
Without it, life is wasted time
Look inside your heart, and I'll look inside mine
Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world, what is fair?
We walk the line and try to see
Falling behind in what could be, oh
Bring me a higher love
Bring me a higher love, oh
Bring me a higher love
Where's that higher love I keep thinking of?
Reporting from China: Does Anyone Want to Join My Dance Team?
After another coconut milk matcha latte, drank at leisure with the cats, my day began something like this (video failed to upload because #thisinternetblows):
If you want in ... I mean, you want in ...
After this dance sesh and a 25-minute HIIT workout, there was indeed a lot of workworkworkworkwork.
While I enjoy the quiet space to #work, coming into to SIS has been strange.
I peaced out of school just before lunch to walk to Buttery, the best café in Shekou, for some food and more company.
It was lovely to settle into the quiet space of Buttery -- an SIS family, who also frequents the cafe, was there, and we chatted a bit about enjoying the nearby "mountain" and all of the things that Lulu freshes cooks, sautés and bakes. "Life is just better with Lulu," said the father.
I consumed those veggies, and the large chicken leg that accompanied them, a number of hours ago now, so I am about to dig into the dish I cooked up in the instant pot tonight.
Again, do you want to join my dance team?