Malaysia, truly Asia

Moving is never easy. It doesn't seem to matter how many times we've done this, it's always hard. Prolonged goodbyes wrapped in emotions topped with an endless to-do list makes for sleepless nights and big anxiety.

Now that we are here in the homestretch, the logistics are taken care of. The container has been sent off, immigration clearance is done, school is finished, even the doggy passport is stamped and ready to go. 

But arrangements aside, it's the nostalgia that is taking over. This move is so bittersweet for us. In all honesty, for the first while living here, I could never imagine missing anything about Malaysia. My, how times have changed. The life we've made here is a happy one. While I am very excited to be going back to Texas, I am just as sad to leave.  

So, in full list making mode, here's what is heavy on my heart today

1. I will miss all of our travels. We've gotten to see parts of world I couldn't have pointed out on a map before. The places, cultures, foods, and people we've gotten to experience have forever changed us. 

2. I will not miss immigration and border crossings. 4 passports later, the excitement of passport stamps has faded to the point that I get frustrated when an officer turns to a new page instead of squeezing a stamp in somewhere else. I look forward to going to soccer practice without having to clear customs. 

3. I will miss living on the equator. Every day is beach weather in Malaysia full of sun and warmth. After living in Norway, it was a nice change to switch to sandals and shorts every day.  

4. But I will not miss being hot ALL the flipping time. Watching the boys sports? Trying to avoid heat stroke. Morning run? Only if it's still dark. Just out of the shower? Already sweating. Beach weather is nice...at the beach. I can't wait to get back to seasons. 

5. I will obviously most definitely miss Batu Batu, our perfect little island paradise. Only 2 hours from home, full of staff who became friends, and a perfect place for adventurous boys to wander and play, it will forever be my favorite place on earth. 

6. I will not miss Legoland. I know, I know, how could I say that?? But if I never ride the dragon roller coaster or eat another terrible hamburger again, I won't be missing out. It just goes to show you can get too much of a good thing. 

7. I will miss my medical students so very much. Not only did I have a job working with some great friends, but I got to get to know some really amazing doctors-to-be. I never expected to learn so much from them, laugh so much with them, and care so much about them. 

8. I will not miss the food. I know many will disagree with me on this one because Malaysia is known as the food capital of the world. Every single conversation will come back to food at some point. But century eggs, durian, fish head curry, and anchovies for breakfast just aren't my thing. 

9. I will miss our bubble. Our house is less than 5 minutes from my work, the boys school and Micah's work. Most of the boys friends all live in our same neighborhood. Every time we go to eat at the same restaurants, they know our order and we will chat with at least several friends who've come to the same place. 

10. I will not miss the driving. Malaysian driving is terrifying. There technically are rules, but the standard is not to follow them. Motorbikes driving the wrong way on the highway, cars completely ignoring stop signs, big trucks parking wherever they see fit...it's frustrating at minimum and death defying at most. 

11. I will miss our friends. In creating our life here, we've made more than just friends but an extended family. People that love your children, people to  cry to when you're homesick, people to walk through life with. Maybe it's the circumstances or maybe it's the type of people who end up in an expat world, but we've found some keepers for sure. It doesn't matter where we move to or where our paths lead, real friends we've made here are here forever.

So while it's great to be headed back to our roots, it doesn't make it any easierto leave. God has blessed us with an adventure of a lifetime and I know the plans He has ahead for us are good. 

Thank you, Malaysia. You surprised me. I tried really hard to hate you, but you didn't let me do it. I am truly grateful for that. ❤️

Fear of home

Day two of jet lag is the worst part. You might not think so, but trust me on this one. 

Day one, you've got excitement and adrenaline to fuel you until you finally decide to sleep and all the exhaustion just crashes down, pulling you into eight plus hours of easy rest. But then by night two, you've settled in a bit and although you've felt like you absolutely cannot hold you eyes open for one more second at some points, when you lay down to sleep during what your body thinks is midday, you lie awake despite your best intentions and worries of tomorrow's fatigue.

This is when the big thoughts hit me. 

Until this point, thoughts about summer holidays at home tend to be milestones to countdown to, romanticized ideas of relaxing and family and...Mexican food. The most worrisome thoughts I have come from a logistic front. What to pack? baggage allowance? Flight times? Necessary details but not overly concerning. 

But now, tonight, ten hours before the last leg of our journey, I think about what it means to be going "home"....and the fear starts to creep in. 

Here's the thing, we've been living abroad for nearly five years now and a lot has happened in that time. 

When we left, Owen was 3 years old. Still a baby really, not yet with a true identity of his own. He relied on us as his world, and while he still does of course, now he is nearly 8 with friends and opinions and his own personality. 

When we left, Tyler and Barrett were little boys...who have now grown into full blown tweets/teens and our relationship with each of them has evolved. I can talk (and argue) with Barrett like he is an adult sometimes. It's kind of a twilight zone feeling sometimes.

When we left, Micah and I were stable and predictable and supportive. While all those things are still true, our commitment and encouragement for each other has reached a new level. It has had to. Many a time, we have been the only lifeline for each other. My love and admiration for him has skyrocketed with each episode of homesickness, or expat frustration, or breakdown due to fear of the unknown. 

When we left, I was worried about my career. I am a doctor. It's who I am. What will I be without that?!? The answer is, I am  still figuring that out but I am truly loving the journey. God has placed opportunities and paths in front of me I would have never ever even considered (I mean, me? Teach? Seriously?) I have discovered a self confidence I never had before. I have found a new shift of priorities I never had before. Is my house 90% furnished from ikea? Yep. Do I care? Okay, honestly some days I do, but most of time I can remember that those things i spent a lot of time thinking about before are not so important in the big picture. I am not the same fearful girl leaving for a long vacation that I was a few short years ago. I long for travel and meeting new people and cultures and working to make a difference. 

And to add to the complication, the thing we call home hasn't stood still either. People have lived their lives. Our house isn't the same. Some old friends have drifted away. Time hasn't stopped because we left, and sometimes, I know that sounds really strange, that's a hard concept to grasp. Especially for the older boys, they hope/expect things to be exactly as they remember them. It's hard to watch them go through the grief of realizing it has changed. Normal life events tend to take on an accelerated pace in these summer visits. It can be difficult. 

So here I lay, wide awake when I should be sleeping, scared of what comes tomorrow. There will be happy moments of reuniting, comfort, and love. But there will also be moments of tears, disappointment, and missing "home" when we are home. 

This life we live right now can be wonderful and thrilling but it can also be lonely and scary. I wouldn't change it for anything, but i will hold my breath a bit to see what's in store for us this summer. 

I am fearful. 

Of what we've missed. Of accepting what has changed. Of what's to come. 

But that's not a bad thing. 

Although it definitely doesn't always feel that way, fear is not a bad thing. We talk about it like it is, but fear is simply anticipation of the unknown. It's our response to that anticipation that can become the problem. If we try to embrace the opportunity and trust in God, the outcome can be great. We don't have to suppress fear. We only have to have hope and faith bigger than our fear. As my mentor has taught me, you can "feel the fear and do it anyway." Growth and change can be (and dare say, usually are) good things. 

There is much ahead, this summer and in life, and I look forward to fearing it all. 

Today

Today. 

That's all.

I'm not even sure how to actually describe it but here it goes...

Sometimes life throws days at you that you don't expect....And sometimes the lessons you learn from crisis are beautiful. 

This morning i had just dropped the boys at school and was headed to work...thinking to myself that I needed more coffee and was not super excited about the day. All the usual grumpy thoughts are flowing "Micah's traveling", "I'm always running late", "I wish I had been able to sleep better last night." 

And then I came to an accident. My training instinct kicked in as grumpy thoughts gave way to adrenaline. Long story short, I worked for 30 minutes to revive a worker who had been hit trying to cross the highway. 

I failed. 

I was shaken, sweaty, dirty, covered in tiny glass shards and feeling helpless and exhausted.

While I've been in these situations before as a physician, there's something different and surreal about doing it outside of the hospital, kneeling on gravel to do chest compressions and praying the ambulance arrives. Groups of people are staring and whispering all while I am robotically doing the only thing I can without success. It's horrible. 

As the day has moved on, those moments continue to replay in my head over and over. While sadness (and fatigue) persist, I've realized something else. 

The man who died today was a foreign worker in Malaysia. For those who may not understand what that means, it means long, hard work for very little pay all of which gets sent home to their families. It means sleeping in a makeshift kampung, metal containers set up as villages. It means immigration hassles and no legal rights. Don't think of it like foreign workers in the US-that would be luxury for many of these people. 

In the part of Malaysia where we live, money is being poured into new construction all around. We see these foreign workers very regularly but it's very much two different worlds that don't mix.  Our typically experience to see these workers daily piling onto buses or very often running in this exact spot (and many others) across the highway. I've probably grumbled at them myself for making me slow down as I drive by. Today could be any day, every day in Malaysia.

But when it happened, something changed, and it wasn't just me. 

A friend, with no medical background, immediately followed and was by my side. Another ran down the road to direct oncoming traffic out of our way. Others took over cpr when my fatigue caught up. Another started calling ambulances (it's not such a simple process as 911) and working to find an AED. Others took my teaching at work and made sure I had time to recover. Others drove my car back to school and made sure we were cleaned up and okay. Another waited at the roadside for a forensics team to arrive. Many others have offered support, prayers, and condolences throughout the day. 

What I saw today is that people cared. In the end, it doesn't matter. We are all the same. It didn't matter that we came from different worlds. It didn't matter that we didn't know who he was. It didn't matter how it happened or who was at fault. It didn't matter that we might be putting ourselves in harms way. We saw someone in need and we tried to help.  

It would have been easy to keep driving. In all honesty, I thought about it. But when I looked at his friends who were scared and had no idea what to do, I knew I had to stop. He is someone's family-maybe husband, maybe father. He is working to provide a better life for someone he loves. 

Just like I would. We are all the same. We may have been placed in different circumstances and places in the world, but at the core, we are all the same.

Much of what is happening in the world right now is very difficult for me to accept.I've been struggling. I am pained by the discrimination, the indifference to people in need, and especially the justification that can follow. It seems to be everywhere. 

But today was different. 

Today I saw tragedy but I also saw hope. I saw good people. 

Sometimes the loud voices of the world focus so much on the bad, it's easy to lose sight of the good. We see all the hate and anger and fear, but underneath all of that the quiet voices of love and goodness are constant. It's there. 

So today. 

Today, I grieve for the family and friends of the deceased.

But today I am also thankful for the opportunity to see hope. 

Hope can and will grow. 

Hope is exactly what I needed today.