From a Veteran’s perspective

His fellow soldiers call him “Superman” because he survived a mortar attack

 

When it comes to the Iraq conflict, we all have our opinions as to why we went into the country.  We are not going to agree if it was the right thing for us to do or not.  Personally, I am interested in the human aspect of war.  Recently, I had a soldier come speak to my class about what it is really like over there as compared to what we see or hear  as a result of  the news.  I wanted to show my students the different sides or “faces” of war so I asked one of my student’s brother to come speak about his experience.

I will just call this soldier, John to protect his identity.  John is in the Army and he was sent to Iraq last year. He was there for only a month before he was seriously injured by a mortar shell (22 millimeter round)that hit the base.  Luckily for John, only the top exploded or he would have died because the mortar hit ten feet behind him.  Minutes before the mortar round  hit, he was inside the humvee fixing the weapon, but realize that he needed a part from the shop to fix it so he got out to go get it.  He told the other soldier to keep working on the control while he went to go get the parts. As he was walking toward the shop there was an explosion. At first, he thought the other soldier accidently hit the wrong button or something went wrong and the weapon exploded. Seconds later his Sergeant screamed, “What the hell is that?!” John said he didn’t realize that he was hit or remember falling down.   At this point, he had strapnel embedded in his side and his arm hanging by the tendons and bone but didn’t realize it yet because  his adrenaline was pumping so fast.  He said his main focus was getting to his Sergeant so he got up and went to help her. He  tried to pick her up but couldn’t because his right arm was hanging and useless so he told his Sergeant to put her arms around his neck so he could take her to safety. She had third degree burns all over her back so he couldn’t touch her there. Even though the pain was excruciating he dragged her to safety.  He was awarded a purple heart for his bravery.

John said that there are not “competition” or “separation” between the different branches of the military.  Everybody helps each other out.  Their main focus is to get out of there alive.  All the soldiers think of each other as brothers and sisters.  They are very close because of this experience.

John said it was very difficult to relax or sleep in Iraq because he was scared of the mortars hitting and snipers.  Also it was so hot and there were sand fleas that made it almost impossible to sleep.  Even though he is home now, he suffers from shell shock.  He said he hates being in crowds because he is afraid of being “ambush” or attack.  He said he realizes that it seems an unreasonable fear since he is in America now and not Iraq.  Besides his distrust of crowds, he also is scared of anything that  has a switch or anything that you have to turn on like  a gas stove, a car and a microwave because he is afraid it would explode. Another thing he has to deal with is nightmares.  Sometimes he would accidently push his wife off the bed not realizing what he is doing.  He has to take medication to calm his nerves.  He said he is lucky compared to some guys he knows because some of them lost both limbs or some of them just give up on their lives because they can’t handle it.  On the other hand, John said some of the guys continue to live their life in a positive way and refuse to let their injury prevent them from doing what they want. 

Here are some observations and things John witness  about Iraq,  its’ people and his experience:

1. A large number of Iraqi kids are not afraid of the American soldiers.  They would come up to the humvee to ask for candy or water or whatever the soldiers would give them.

2.  The adults in Iraqi are more cautious.  They  tend to keep their distance.

3.  The situation in Iraq is improving and there are many improvements made to the infrastructure.

4. Each family in Iraq is allowed to keep one Ak47 to protect their family. The American soldiers have to be careful and not get nervous and fire at the civilians.  They have to follow the rules of engagement.

5. Because of his experience in Iraq, he values life more because he says how bad some of the people in Iraq has to struggle.

6.  Soldiers has to be on constant alert because of mortar attacks and snipers.

7.  He said troops needs to be brought back gradually because it is going to take some time to stabilize the country.  He said we can’t leave things unfinish because it will make us look bad. 

There are many reasons for war, but we have to remember the human aspect of it.  Not only civilians suffer because of war but soldiers as well.

In honor of our military men and women

Our military men and woman proudly serving our country

On this Memorial Day,  I would like to thank my students and friends as well as all military personnel who is serving our country.  There are no words to describe my gratitude for the ultimate sacrifice our military men and women have made to ensure that we continue to enjoy our freedom. As we spend Monday with our friends and family, let us not forget our brave men and women. Also, let us not forget what it means to be an American.  I think Lee Greenwood says it best in his lyric ” Proud to be an American.”

 If tomorrow all the things were gone,

I’d worked for all my life.

And I had to start again,

With just my children and my wife.

I’d thank my lucky stars,

To be livin’ here today.

‘Cause the flag still stands for freedom,

and they can’t take that away.

And I’m proud to be an American,

Where at least I know I’m free.

And I won’t forget the men who died,

Who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,

Next to you and defend her still today.

‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,

God bless the USA.

From the lakes of Minnesota,

To the hills of Tennessee.

Across the plains of Texas,

From sea to shining sea.

From Detroit down to Houston,

And New York to L.A.

Well there’s pride in every American heart,

And it’s time we stand and say.

That I’m proud to be an American,

Where at least I know I’m free.

And I won’t forget the men who died,

Who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,

Next to you and defend her still today.

‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,

God bless the USA.

And I’m proud to be an American,

Where at least I know I’m free.

And I won’t forget the men who died,

Who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,

Next to you and defend her still today.

‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,

God bless the USA
http://youtube.com/watch?v=38nx3mjXJMk

Do we know when it is time for us to go?

Valentines Day, a day to celebrate with the ones we love, the day to acknowledge the love we hold for the special people in our lives… the day I will remember more poignantly.  On February 14th, I found out my grandmother passed away.  I was at work and as usual at the end of the day, I would check my phone messages and there was a message from my brother or my sister, I can’t even remember who called me first,but it didn’t matter. When I called them they asked me if I had talk to my mother today and I said no and asked them why.  Then they told me that our cousin from Laos called in the morning to tell  our mom that grandmother passed away. I sat there half listening, dreading but anxious to hear what my brother was trying to tell me. When he said, “Grandmother passed away” I could feel myself mentally detaching myself from the situation in a vain attempt to ignore what he was saying. I didn’t cry, I just sat there in my classroom thinking, I can’t break down now because I’m still at work, I still have to get through the rest of the evening helping my club members with the fundraiser I was in charge of. What I was trying to do was pretend that it was just another ordinary day, not the day I found out my grandmother passed.

It was not until 10:00 that night that I was  able to make myself call my mother. I was avoiding that phone call because I didn’t know what I was going to say to her, telling her I was sorry for her loss seemed inadequate  to express my grief and sorrow that my grandmother was gone.

The first thing I said to  mother on the phone was, ” I don’t understand how grandmother passed when we were told by  our cousin that she was sick a couple of days ago, but was feeling better!”  I didn’t even give her a chance to say anything before I cried angrily ,”how could my grandmother be dead?” My mom let me cried and told me the story.  My mother said she believed that grandmother’s spirit (kwan) had visited her a couple of days before she actually passed away.  My mother said she was in the living room watching T.V. when she heard a cup fall off the counter and crashed on the floor.  When she went into the kitchen she saw the broken cup on the floor and couldn’t understand how it happened since there was no wind or any reason for it to fall.  My mother said at the time she didn’t understand, but after she got that phone call she knew why the cup fell, she said she believed her mother’s spirit had come to say goodbye to her. 

I was so shocked by my grandmother’s death because it was abrupt, I knew she had problems with her blood pressure and she suffered from the first stage of alheimezer’s disease but our cousin had reassure us that all was well.

My siblings and I had just given my mother money to wire to my cousin for my grandmother’s care and medicine the week she died.  My mother western union the money to Walmart in Laos, and my cousin went to get it and take it to my grandmother on the day she died.  On the day she died, my cousin told my mom that my grandmother was just telling him how happy and lucky she was that her grandkids still remembers her. They were all suppose to go to the Wat that day, but my grandmother told my cousin and his wife to go ahead and say a prayer of thanks to Buddha for her while she rested.  My cousin’s wife told her after the Wat she was going to bring my grandmother food. When my cousin’s wife went to check on my grandmother, my grandmother had passed away in her sleep. 

Looking back on the week prior to my grandmother’s death, my mother believes that my grandmother knew that she was going to die and was trying to take care of everything before she passed including her own funeral.  My mother says she believes that my grandmother had called to ask for money not to pay for medicine, but that she knew she was going to die and had asked for money so it can be used for the funeral.  The five hundred we sent for my grandmother’s care and medicine ended up  paying for her funeral. My mother told my cousin to use that money to give my grandmother a burial and funeral vigil that will show everybody how much we love her.  We sent my cousin more money for the boun in honor of my grandmother.

My mother said she was grateful that she got to talk to my grandmother that week before she died.  My mother said that my grandmother had asked for us by names and asked how we were doing.  She also reminded me to make sure that I ask my grandmother’s spirit to protect me and look over me. When I got off the phone with my mom, I pretended that my grandmother was there in my bedroom with me, and told her how much I love and miss her and how I will always remember her.  Two days later I dream of my grandmother in Laos as I remember her.  I told my mother of the dream I had of my grandmother, and she said she wished my grandmother would visit her in her dreams.

My grandmother is gone, but not forgotten. She will always be a part of me, her strength as a woman, her unconditional love.

My moment of insanity? Inspiration? Impulsiveness?

Last week I finally lost my thin grip on sanity!  At least, that’s what I’m thinking right now during my moment of quiet contemplation.  I made two important decision:  run in a half marathon and sign up to start my Masters program. Why is this crazy?  One, I hate running because I am not good at it! As for my Masters program, great idea but I would have to squeeze that in with my crazy schedule.

My brilliant idea started a couple of months ago after a conversation with two of my co-workers who I was trying to persuade to go to the gym with me. I told them it would be a great idea if we run in a marathon because then it would force us to go work out consistently and they agreed.  After speaking with them, I decided to run the idea by my principal who has done a full marathon before and she thought it was an awesome idea and that she would help us train.  She even loan us a book on running. 

Now it’s May and my principal and I and three other co-workers have all registered for the America’s Finest City Half Marathon in San Diego this August.  I can’t back out of it now since I have already made the commitment.  The idea that I am going to do a half marathon is frightening and nerve wrecking, but exciting because it will be a physical and mental challenge for me.  At least my marathon is short compared to the breast cancer walk my little sister  is going to do which is 60 miles in three days!  She is trying to raise 2200 for the Breast Cancer Society.

I am getting ready for it by cross training, doing yoga, running and biking so I can work out all my muscles.  I am going to try my hardest to finish in the three hour frame they set for us.  I hope I don’t get trample by all those professional runners!

If anybody would love to participate in this marathon in beautiful San Diego here is the link:

http://www.afchalf.com/

 

My mother, my role model

Most people will claim that their mother is the best role model for every woman because she is understanding, patient,and sweet.  My mother’s best traits are polar opposites of those fine qualities. She is renown for her abruptness,  temper,  impatience. She believes in being honest at all times even if it offends someone. She detests laziness and has no patience for people who make excuses for their lack of drive or determination. She is very opinionated and will tell people exactly what she thinks of them or their behavior. She hates gossips and if she hears anybody talking bad about her or our family, she will confront them. My mother can sometimes be overbearing because she will tell me what to do or what she thinks even if I do not solicit her opinions.

My mother is my role model because she is amazingly strong, determined, and resilient. She has taught me the importance of being a woman with high morals and values. She has shown me to stand on my own feet and not be dependent on anyone for the success or failure in my life. My mother is extraordinary because she is a woman of substance, faith, and loyalty. I am proud to say that I am my mother’s daughter.

Introduction into an American School

Some  kids are lucky to have one or both parents take them to their first day of school.  In my case, it was my preacher, Brother Dale.  He was the one who took us to school.  I was seven years old when I started school in America.  I was put into Mrs. Bizzell’s second grade class.  There were no other Asian much less khon Lao in my class so I did not have anybody to interact with or ask questions. While the rest of the students were doing their regular classwork, I struggled to learn my basics…ABC and 123.  I couldn’t read, write or speak English so it was a challenge to complete the class assignments. It felt like I was deaf, dumb, and blind because I felt so lost.  What made it worse was the fact that I had to discover a way to over the language barrier so I could communicate with my teacher and classmates. I came to rely heavily on my ability to remember and mimic the other kids in class. Inadvertenly,I became an expert observer and imitator. 

Mrs. Bizzel and I eventually discover how we can communicate to each other by using hand motions and strong facial expression.  Looking back now it was like paying charade.  We were both trying to “guess” what the other person was saying with their hands, body language and dramatic gestures.  If we were students in a clown school, I’m pretty sure we would have been the head of the class! 

Learning the English language was my top concern because for me personally, I wanted to know what other people were saying to each other or to me.  There were times when the kids would point and laugh when they would glance my way and I would feel so frustrated because I didn’t know what they were saying. 

Everyday, my brothers and sister and I would be taken out of our class to a resource class where Mrs. Lennon and Mrs. Brown would help us learn English.  They were instrumental in us grasping the language faster which was not easy because we had to learn to use different parts of our mouth to speak.  The most important thing was, we had the determination to overcome our language barrier.

 

Another one of my Karma Story!

 

Two weeks ago my students and I volunteered to help with the first annual Yuma Art Beat. We were there from six in the morning to seven at night.  It was a very long day, but interesting because it was an art show/wine tasting event.  I didn’t taste any wine because I was helping with the event, but I met so many talented artist there.   One of the artist I met was Issa.  I noticed her paintings immediately because it was vibrant, passionate, and full of life.  She was the first artist I wanted to speak  to because I simply love her colorful paintings.  I felt drawn to the paintings so I decided to go up to her and ask her if I could take pictures of her work and put it on my website.  She generously agreed and asked her about her inspirations for the paintings.  She said she is an expressionist painter because she enjoys painting things to show the different sides of the human emotion from sadness to joy to fear. 

After I interview her and pictures, we exchanged information so we could keep in touch and so she can come to this site to check her paintings out.  When I handed her the piece of paper with this site (karmadiva.wordpress.com) on it, I told her it’s called that because I believe in karma.  She responded that it was weird because so does she.  In fact she believes in it so much she and her friends meet and discuss karma in a social setting. She invited me to attend if I wanted to and I promised her I would call so we can meet over coffee.

My meeting with Issa reminded me of that Chinese legend of the red thread”An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break”.  Out of all those people at the art show, it was interesting that I would connect with her and end up having more in common with her than everybody else there.