Three bedroom, Four families: Lao style

If you are Lao, living with a bunch of people is the norm not the exception. Most Lao people can agree that helping others whether they are your relatives or friends is part of our culture. Maybe that is because some of us who grew up in Laos, or were brought up the traditional Lao way, we know that if someone needs help we take them in even though we ourselves may be struggling. My parents were no exception. They helped our relatives even though they were not financially set.

In the late 1980s, we moved into a three bedroom, two bath home and a garage. It was about 1800 square foot, but it had a huge back yard. The best part about the house was the honeysuckle bush in the backyard. I would love the distintive fragrance and would often meander outside and sit on the little step to relax in the summer. When we first moved into the house, it was just my sister, little brother, older brother, and my parents. I don’t remember how long we lived in that house before my relatives started moving in with us, but I know it was fast. It happened so quickly that I don’t remember actually having a bedroom. Pretty soon, three other families moved in with us. My dad’s sister and husband and their three kids. My cousin and their three kids.  Then my other cousin and his wife. Pretty soon our house tiny three bedroom house was cramped and overflowing with people. At first it was chaotic trying to find a place for everyone. Our garage was turned into a bedroom for all the kids. My parents retained their bedroom, my dad’s siter and her husband got one bedroom and my cousin got the other one. As for my other cousin and his wife, the living room became their bedroom at night.

Some people may wonder why did my parents take in so many people. They did it because our relatives just got to America as refugees and they needed a place to live until they could get on their feet, find a job, and save up for a place of their own. Somehow we managed to make it work. I don’t remember any drama. All I remember is that meal times were chaotic. My female cousins and mom cooked for everyone. The kids would spread out the newspaper in the living room and helped carried out the food. Every meal time was like a big party because there were so many of us. We went through a big bag of rice a week.

I have to say, that living with those many people was fun and interesting. Since I was young, I didn’t really need my privacy. Besides, my cousins and I had fun sleeping in the garage and hanging out. We were never lonely. Since there were so many of us kids, playing hide and go seek was an adventure.

Living Lao style, with extended family is not such a bad idea. We were poor, but everyone pitched in. We depended on each other. When everyone started moving out, it felt weird to be in a quiet house. We finally had a sense of privacy, but I was not as happy. I think this experience has made me into the people person I am today. I love being around people. I am the happiest when I have friends and family over. When they leave and the house quietens down, I find myself planning another event where they can come back again.

Where in the world is my nose?!

As long as I can remember, I have always been self-conscious of my nose.  Actually in my case, the lack of a bridge on my nose!  I have a flat nose and I used to hate it so much.  I remember as a teen, I would do all these crazy things I heard from other people that would miraculously make my nose more pointy and not as flat.  For example, some adults told me that if I pull on the bridge of my nose every night, it would help.  You know how when you have a headache, you pull on the bridgeof your nose to relieve the tension? Well, I was doing that hoping it would help.  Obviously, it didn’t work because the only thing I got out of it was a red nose!  That really made it noticeable!  Okay, I have to admit, I was very stupid and naive as a teenage and yes desperate for my nose to grow.

Another crazy thing I did was try to put the close pen on my nose thinking that it would help.  That hurt like hell so I quit that real fast!  It felt like a crab grabbed a hold of my nose and refuse to let go!  I’m sure by now you are probably thinking how stupid I was and I couldn’t agree with you more.  The only defense I have is that I was desperate!  I wanted a pointed nose like my American friends! Also, I got tired of some of them asking if I could breathe okay or smell this or that with my flat nose.  My response was always the same, I would indignantly point at my nostrils and questioned , ” Don’t you see these two holes?”  Of course, my friends was joking but it still made me feel self-conscious. It made me wonder, how do they see me?  Do I look weird? Ugly? Do I look like a platypus to them? What would I look like if I had a higher bridge? Would it make me look better or worse?

On a serious note, I did consider rhinoplasty until I saw some Laotians who had it done. It changed the way they look so much that they no longer look ethnic.  It was weird for me to see Laotians who went from having flat noses to pointed noses as I call it.  Of course, it made them feel better about themselves so that is all that matters.  However, for me, I am too scared that it would change my look so much that I will not look like a Laotian anymore. Also, how about if you end up hating it and got stuck with it unless you were willing to redo it again.  That would cost more money, time and pain. For some people they are willing to go under the knife.  As for me, the answer is no to rhinoplasty since I don’t like pain.  Watching those nose surgery has totally freaked me out. 

My nose is what identifies me as Asian.

The Great Debaters

One movie suggested by my sister is The Great Debaters.  It stars Denzel Washington. I showed this to my class last year before we did our debates to give them an idea of how a debate is formatted.  Also, it is a good movie to show the injustice of racism and racial inequality.  This movie inspired my students when they give speeches in our class.  Their enunciation, mannerism, and poise was better. 

Asian parents and dating

Do Asians date or is that a western idea? I know this sounds like a dumb question, but it really has me wondering.  Obviously I can’t speak for other Asians or pretend to know what everybody’s view is on that so I will just have to go off of my own.

I am thirty seven years old and I tell you my age to give you a perspective on my point of view. I grew up in the eighties, listening to Madonna’s song Like a Virgin and Papa Don’t Preach. Obviously, she didn’t listen to her own advice because if you know what Papa Don’t Preach, it’s about teen pregnancy.  I bring these two songs up because growing up in an traditional Laotian household you had to remember two things:  1) don’t have sex before marriage 2) don’t get pregnant!  If you were not married then you shouldn’t EVEN be thinking of either or put yourself in that situation. 

My parents forbade us not to date.  They just wanted us to focus on school and that was it! I would look at my American friends and envy their freedom to date while I wasn’t supposed to even talk to boys.  It was so unfair.  Some of you might wonder if I listened to my parents and the answer is yes and no.  For example, I had my first “boyfriend” when I was fourteen and his name was Lado.  I met him in Louisiana when I was visiting my cousin and working for the summer.  I wouldn’t call him really my “boyfriend” since we didn’t hold hands, hug or act like girlfriend/boyfriend.  He was more like a really good friend, one who I played baseball with, board games, and he always farted in front of me.  I know really romantic. I think I just said yes when he asked me out because I was too nice to say no.

To get back to the question, is dating a part of Asian people’s culture? For me traditionally, no we were not supposed to date much less have a boyfriend.  Nowadays, I know many Laotians are more lax in their views in regards to dating.  I have seen parents let their daughters date, go places by themselves and yes even allowed their kids’ boyfriend or girlfriend even come live with them. Time has definitely change and so have values and beliefs.  Are Asians picking up American ideals when it comes to dating and relationship?  Is that a good or bad thing?

Tai Chi

My class and I did almost the same movements, but we did not look as good!

When I was living at home, my parents would rent these long Chinese saga from the Lao store.  These tapes were like 12 tapes long, but  I loved it because of the martial arts.  Of course, it was dubbed in Thai so I could understand it.    I guess I am a martial arts fans because of my parents.  I still love watching martial arts movies.  In fact, I wish my parents had put me into a karate class.  I regret not joining my friend Dao in high school in her martial arts class.  I was just too shy!  Anyway, this Saturday I got a chance to pretend I was a martial arts expert in my Tai Chi class! 

I went to the gym to run, but end up doing Tai Chi for two hours!  There were only seven of us there in class and that was counting the instructor.  I guess nobody wanted roll out of bed on a Saturday morning.  The first hour we practice without using swords.  The second hour, the instructor handed us swords and I was like, ” Oh, hell I hope it’s not sharp because I didn’t want to get arrested for accidentally stabbing the little old ladies in my class!”  I made sure I left plenty of space between me and the rest of the ladies.  As we did our movements, I felt like one of the characters from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, especially the part when I did a little twist then jab my sword forward.  Of course, I am still new at Tai Chi and do not have my forms down as well as the other ladies.  Some of the ladies are in their seventies and they are amazing to watch! 

My instructor is also in his seventies and he does not look like it.  He said there will be a Tai Chi competition in the Olympics this year. He said they will probably broadcast it when everybody is asleep since the other sports dominate the Olympics.  I want to see it so I am definitely going to find it on Youtube.

My instructor told me, there’s over 108 movements that we do give or take.  He said to keep in mind that it is a continuous movement.  For each twenty minute session we do, we don’t talk, we just move and breathe and focus on ourselves.  Then he stops and gives us stories or helpful hints for 2 minutes before starting again.  I love practicing Tai Chi because it’s relaxing and I totally zone out.  I used to watch those video of Chinese people do Tai Chi in the park and thought, hey that looks easy!  Trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.  Once you get the form down then it is.  Try it if you want to relax!

Part 3: Death does not discriminate

My siblings ( Khonsavanh, Vorada) and I cross over to Thailand with our grandmother and step-grandfather at the beginning of 1975.  My mom ask an acquaintance of hers’ and my stepfathers’ to bring us across.  She picks that particular man to guide my grandparents across,  because he is an experienced “guide” and he knows the safe route to take to avoid the authorities on both sides. 

Once we cross, we meet my mom and step-dad at the Thai border close to the Mekong River.  It was a bittersweet moment for my mom.  She is beyond relief  that we have made it safely, but overwhelm by an inconsolable grief that there is one missing.  Before my mother can even voice her fear and what she already suspects, I blurt out what everybody already knows: Paramy is dead. 

 I was only four when my sister passed so  I do not remember my mom’s reaction or understand what it means to lose a child. It would not be until years later that my mom finally shared  her grief with me.

My daughter, when she was one month

My mom believes in reincarnation and that belief helps her find a modicum of peace as much as can be experienced by someone who looses a loved one.  When I was nine months pregnant, my mother had a dream about my sister.  In the dream my sister tells my mom that her legs hurt and she ask my mom, “Mom, can I come live with you so you can take care of me?”  My mom looks at her and said sadly , ” Baby, I’m too old for you to be born with me again, but you can come live with your sister instead.” My mom calls me the next day to tell me she knows what sex my unborn child is going to be.  She tells me I was going to have a girl.  I ask her how does she know because my husband and I had tried to go find out months earlier, but the doctor couldn’t tell from the ultrasound. The baby keeps hiding its gender. 

With conviction, my mom said it is going to be a girl because she had a dream about my sister. My mom said since my sister can’t be reborn with her , my sister is going to  reborn as my daughter.   Sure enough, I gave birth to a girl.  In honor of my mother and sister, my daughter’s middle name is Paramy.

When my daughter is  about two  months old, my mom and dad comes to visit me.  She truly believes that my daughter is my sister reborn especially  after she sees the birth mark (mongolian spot) on my daughter’s left ankle.  My sister also had a mongolian spot on her left ankle and she had curly hair.  Just with those two characteristics, my mom is convinced.  Who am I to argue or tell her it is just a coincidence?  If it eases her pain of losing my sister then so be it.

Birthmark on her left ankle like my sister, Paramy

Refugee Camps: Part Two

Just when my stepfather and mother were starting to save money and send for us, they were thrown in jail for illegally entering Thailand. The men and women were seperated.  My stepfather was led away in wrist and ankle chain with the other men like herds of cattle.  My mom was thrown in the cell with other women.  She would not see my stepfather again until a month later when they would appear in front of the judge who would decide their fate.

During the month that my mom was seperated from my stepfather, she was kept busy knitting fishing nets. She said she was lucky that she knew how to knit and weave because the other women who couldn’t do that had to go shovel human waste from the pits.   

After a month had passed it was time for my mom and stepdad to go in front of the judge along with some of the other prisoners.  When my mom got there to the courtroom, she looked for my dad, but couldn’t see him so she ask if my stepdad was on the list to appear in front of the judge that day. The Thai officer asked for my stepdad’s name and sure enough he was on the list.  So, my mom looked around the courtroom again and finally located my stepdad.  She didn’t recognize him because he had lost a lot of weight and they had shaved his head.  My mom was speechless and saddened to see my stepdad humiliated like that.  In a matter of months he went from being a Sub-Lientenant in the Laos army to a lowly prisoner in the Thai prison where he was the one under the control of the prison guard instead of the one giving orders.

My mom and stepdad had no choice but to stand there and remain silent as the judge accused all the refugees in the courtroom of being Communist who wanted nothing more than to turn Thailand into a communist country.  The judge said all the refugees (Cambodians, Vietnamese, and Laotians) were bad for the country and that they needed to be sent back to where they came from.  He said it was not up to Thailand to take care of the refugees and that it was not up to them to be concern for the safety and welfare of these criminals.  After the judgement was passed down, the refugees were readied to be transported to one of the border city of Thailand.  Once there, the refugees were let loose to make their own way to their individual country with the threat of dire consequences if they were to sneak back to Thailand.  That pronouncement was not enforced.  My mom said since there were not many Thai authorities to enforce the ruling, many refugees went back to Thailand as in the case of my mom and stepfather.  They borded the bus to take them back to where they were living (in kamalied or khamalid Nonaly) which was a hundred miles away from the border of Thailand and Laos.

Once back in Kamalaid, they went back to their rented house, their jobs.  My mom continue selling sweets and doing laundry.  My dad continue using the sam lor as a taxi to make money. Fortunately, for my parents, my dad had made friends with one of the Thai police officer.  The officer helped my dad out by telling the other officers that my mom and dad are good hard working people and that they are not there to make trouble. The police left them alone this time. My parents steadily save a little money here and there.  About three months after they got out of jail, my mom sent word to my grandma to get us ready to cross over to Thailand.   We were living in Laos with our grandmother in Donkayang (closest pronunciation I can translate from what my mom told me). This city is close to the Thai border on the other side of the Mekong. 

My mother and stepfather asked a friend who was familiar with the borders of Laos and Thai to bring us across to the rendevous place.  My sister, Paramy, Khonsavanh, and I were living with my grandma close to the borders of Laos and Thailand, but my older brother was living with my great grandfather at the Wat, closer to Pakse.  So my parents had to first make arrangements for my great grandfather to bring my older brother to where my sisters and I were. Once we were all together, everything was set except there would be one less person on the trip.  My older sister Paramy, fell ill and died about two or three months before we were supposed to leave.  My grandmother did not send word to my mom to let her know so my mom was expecting four children to show up at the border not three. The death of my sister came as a shock to my mom because my grandmother did not prepare her ahead of time.   It took years for my mom to forgive my grandmother for not bringing us to her sooner.  My grandmother had become attached to us. As a result, the first time my mom had told my grandmother to get ready to take us because she was sending someone to guide her across, my grandmother said she needed a little more time to get ready.  My mom told me that if my grandmother had taken us the first time she had asked, maybe my older sister would have still been alive.

By the time we cross over to Thailand, it was 1975.  I was four years old, my little sister Khonsavanh was three, my sister Paramy would have been five, and my older brother was six.  We were ready to start a new life in the refugee camp as  a family. With the birth of my little brother, we begun a new chapter in our lives.

The Cost of Freedom

Recently, a friend email me and said that fourth of July is a time of reflection for him.  I decided he is right, I should reflect on my past, my former country and my people on this day.

Most of us are familiar with the story of America’s  fierce battle and eventual freedom from the British.  After years of struggle for equality, on July 4, 1776 the Declaration was signed, publicly read, and copies passed out to some of the colonists.  This powerful Declaration signified the actual birth date of the United States of America.  Many willingly sacrifice their lives to fight for a country they grew to love and many die to uphold those ideals they came to believe in.  Not all men and women (loyalist) living in America took part in that struggle for freedom from Britain. Many still felt like they were a subject to the Crown and had an obligation to follow the rules of law applicable to its citizens.  Some  view the fight for freedom as a treasonous act and chose  not to participate in this betrayal.  However, there were many Americans who strongly believed in gaining their independence even though they knew they could loose their lives.   This story of America’s struggle for independence makes me wonder how Laos lost their fight against the Communist regime.  America was outnumbered by a far more experienced British force, but yet Americans prevail.  Did Laos loose the fight against the invaders because they were outnumbered, outsmarted?  Did Laos loose because there were not enough trained men and women to fight?  Did Laotians became overwhelmed, overpowered and terrorized to submission by the Communist regime?

King Sisavang Vatthana image from google

Up until 1975, Laos was a monarchy.  Many people loved the king and queen of Laos, but they could not protect them from the invading Communist regime.  Some willing lost their lives to keep the monarchy in power, but without success.  Consequently, King Sisavang Vatthans was forced to abdicate his crown (1975) and according to many sources, he and his family was sent to a re-education camp by the Pathet Lao. Laos became Lao Dang ( Red Lao to represent  Lao Communist).  Pathet Lao backed by the communist North Vietnamese were able to control  an enormous area of Laos by  1970.  Once Cambodia and South Vietnam fell to the communist regime, so did Laos.  As a result, by 1975, the Pathet Lao government got rid of all the rightist and neutralist in Laos and brought the whole country under their control .  Maybe this would not have happened if the three princes of Laos would have kept the coalition they had formed based on the urging of King Sisavang Vatthana in 1961.  Maybe the king knew that the only way to keep the country under the rule of Laotians was  for the three princes to band to form a strong united front against a foreign entity. Unfortunately, the much needed coalition between the three princes dissipated less than a year later. Their disagreement on how to rule Laos, what the future of Laos should be like could  very well have contributed to it being taken over by the Pathet Lao.  If they had banded together as some of the colonist in  America did, would Laos still have a monarchy?  Did political disagreement make  the country weaker.  How could Laos hope to defeat the invaders when they could not even agree who should be King.  There are too many factors leading to conquest of Laos, but not having a strong central government definitely played a major role.

In  early 1960s,  different sections of Laos was governed by three different princes. Prince Souvanna Phouma, a neutralist, governed the Vietiane area.  He was recognized by the Russians as the legitimate heir to the throne.  Prince Boun Oum of Champassak, who was pro-U.S. was  understandablely recognized by the U.S. as Prime Minister of Laos.  He would later win the majority of the votes in the National Assemby and  gain the blessing of King Sisavang Vatthana as the head of the new government.  The third prince (right wing), Prince Souphanouvong, was backed by the Pathet Lao, the Communist regime.  All of them had different political beliefs and ideas and unwisely chose to not take the king’s advice of working together. Instead it seems they all allow other countries to interfer in what was unmistakenly an internal affair.

I was too young to remember what happened in 1974 ( about a year before the monarchy was overthrown) so I have to rely on the memories of those who lived through it like my father and mother. What I do know is based on what my parents have recounted during the rule of the Pathet Lao in 1974.  One thing that is prominent about this time is one of terror and heartache for many Laotions. They said people were terrified of the invading forces because  if they  were not submissive they were killed.  They had to comply with what the new government wanted for them to do or they risk their lives rebelling.  Here is what my mom witness in her village of the tactics used by the new regime to control the Lao people.

At the beginning of 1974, we were  still living in Saybaihing( spelling), a village between Pakse and Savannakit.  What happened to Ai Gea, one of the villagers convinced my mom that it was time to leave Laos.  She said the communist soldiers called for a town meeting so everybody went to the area where it was supposed to be.  When the villagers arrive, they saw Ai Gea ( 40 years old) with his hands  tied up and on his knees.  The head soldier told the villagers that Ai Gea committed a serious crime. They said he was  bad because he was a cattle thief, that he was stealing cows and taking it across Thailand to sell to make profit. When Ai Gea tried to get up and protest his innocence, one of the soldier slam the butt of his gun against Ai Gea’s head. Ai Gea’s wife started crying and rushed to her husband, but she stopped when they warn her to stop crying or they will kill her and her kids who were there.  Then they proceeded to state his crime and “asked” the opinions of the villagers if they agree or disagree that the crime of cattle thief was bad.  The villagers had to cast their  ”vote” if they agree  or disagree by a show of hands.  My mom said the villagers were coerced, terrorized into agreeing that he was guilty.  If you did not raise your hand and voted then they accused you of siding with the victim and they would shoot you. My mom said they did this, asking your opinion, to put the blame on you instead of them so you can’t say they kill the “guilty” victim.  They would say, “hey you voted, we are just carrying out the law”. This emotional blackmail was difficult to bear for my mom especially when she knew he was not guilty.  When I asked my mom if she had “voted”, raised her hands… she paused and said yes.  I asked her why?  Why did she raise her hands if she knew he did not commit the crime.  She said, she was too terrified that they would dragged her away like Ai Gea and shot dead like him. She said all the villagers on that day knew, there was no chance of Ai Gea coming out alive of that situation because he was picked to to used as an “example” of what would happen if they did not obey the soldiers.  She said she her village was not the only one where random people were targeted and used as an example to frightened people into submission.

I tell this story of Ai Gea to remind us who have made it out of Laos that we should be grateful to live in a country where we no longer have to be force to witness the slaughter of our loved ones.  We are lucky to be able to live how we want, do what we want, say what we want without fear.  It is a blessing to live in a country where…” all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”  I am just saddened that Ai Gea and many others like him will never know what it is like to live in the land of the free, whether it is here in the U.S. or in Laos.  All I know is the cost of freedom for Americans and Laotians have been great.

 May 20, 1970 a friend of the familyFourth of July is a time to celebrate with our friends and families, but it is also a time to remember those who are no longer here with us, those who have given up their lives so that we may enjoy this moment with our loved ones.  I love this country where I am living, but I will never forget the country where my heart will always call home.

Refugee Camps: Part one

 

 

This picture was taken in 1979 in a refugee camp in the Thai province of Ubon Ratchanthani

I am in the black dress( second from the right) standing in front of my grandma and step-grandfather 

People are familiar with the old saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words”.  There are a dozen story I can tell about the people in this picture. Some sad, some funny, and some uplifting ones.  Some stories I am a central figure to, some I am a bystander, and others I  do not play any role in.  These people’s lives are an integral part of who I am, where I come from, and what I believe in.  Some of them are family members, some are friends and others are people who became a part of my life.  In that refugee camp in Ubon, we were one because of our shared hardship and struggle to make our lives better. When we all had to seperate and make our own way to different parts of the world on that day, it was a sad chapter in our lives.  Having to leave some of them behind until it was their turn to emigrate was necessary.  Fortunately, for my family and I we were able to see some of them again in America.  Some of them like two of my step-father’s cousin ( Ai You ck: fourth from the left, and Ai Yu ung: eighth from the left) would even live with us in Clovis, New Mexico. 

In 1974, my mom and stepfather decided to cross over to Thailand illegally.  They left my older sister, Paramy ( 5), little sister (3) Khonsavahn, me (4) and my oldest brother Vorada (6) in Laos because they didn’t have any money yet to take us.  My sisters and I would remain with my grandmother close to the Thai border until my mom sent for us.  As for my older brother, he was sent to stay with my great grandfather at the Wat close to Pakse where my mother’s family is from.

My mother and step-father would not be able to send for us until almost a year later because of some problems they ran into.  The first obstacle of course was money:  they didn’t have any.  They left Laos with a small pack of their clothing and that was it.  When they got to Kamalaid (I am spelling it phonetically so I’m sure it is the wrong spelling) a village in South Thailand, they sold their nice clothes for 80 baht.  They found a house to rent for 40 baht and the 20 baht they had left, they use to buy a rice steamer and a little bit of food. At the time they did not know anybody yet.  Luckily for them, a nice Thai lady befriended them.  She taught my mom and dad to make fresh noodles and sweets to sell at th bus station.  At first my mom was not a good cook at all.  She said making the fresh noodles and sweets took a while to make, but eventually she got the hang of it.

Image of Sam Lor from movetochiangrai.com

While my mom sold noodles and sweets, my dad decided to rent  a sam lor (three wheeled bicycle) to haul people around to make some money.  Once again at first he was not good at it.  My mom said the first time he tried to drive the sam lor he ran into a thorn bush.  I guess my dad had to adjust from being a soldier in the Laos army to a “taxi” driver.  Eventually, he was able to control the som lor and made some money doing that.  Besides selling sweets and noodles, my mom also did laundry for a rich Thai family.  They would only pay her 50 baht a month.  Another job they took on was shifting rocks that would be used for building houses. They got paid only 20 baht for a big trash can size.  My mom said it was hard work, especially because by that time she was pregnant with my little brother.

Just when my mom and stepdad was almost ready to send for us, someone told on the lady who was helping my parents.  They told the authorities that she was harboring illegal immigrants.  The Thai authorities showed up and arrested my mom and stepdad and took them to jail. 

*** Part two I will continue the story of my parents’ incarceration in the Thai jail for illegally entering the country.

San Diego: Half Marathon Location

As I had mentioned, I went to my AP U.S. History conference at USD in San Diego.  While I was there, I checked the area as well as the weather.  One thing is for sure, the area where we will be running is beautiful.  The weather is much cooler than Yuma, I even got cold in the morn!  I did not get to run since the people I was with did not want to go with me.  Instead, I just walked around campus.  Almost every morning as I was heading to my conference I would see the same couple ( about 55ish) walking.  It was like they were reminding me I needed to get back to my training!  They were not the only ones I saw walking and running.  Everytime I would see people running I had this weird urge to just drop everything and join them even though I was decked out in my little casual professional teacher clothing!  So, I can totally understand what  John Bingham was saying in Chapter 12: The Time of Your life where he was describing his urge to run while at a professional conference in Chicago. Unlike him, I didn’t throw off my clothes and hop into my workout outfit and go run because for one, I was in the car with others on my way to the conference.  John had an advantage, he was in his hotel room when he saw the runners on the lakefront so it was easy for him to give in to his urge.  I, on the other hand did not want to shock the other teachers as well as get thrown in jail for public indecency! I can see the headlines: Laotian teacher caught running naked down the street! My teaching career would definitely be over, but I guess my career as a naked running teacher would began!:)

San Diego is a  runner’s haven.  I say that because it is so beautiful.  I can really understand why so many people would want to run there because the scenery makes it worthwhile.  You can go running around Seaport Village where you can see sailboats, ships and boats or you could go run on the beaches especially the one close to Hotel Del Coronado.