Rebecca A. Foster

Who are your people? I come from hardscrabble, independent Texans and outspoken, fun-loving Chileans. What impact do our people have on us? Are characteristics inherited, or just a function of nurturing? I have no idea. But here are two of my people: My Grandpa Foster (on the far left; I'm the little scowly one below him), who as a young man had a Model-T and hauled ice in a secret compartment for bootleggers during Prohibition in exchange for gas for his car. How cool was he? He was also a rock/mineral hound and used to take us out rock hunting when we were kids. I was determined to find a geode and always asked, "Is that a geode, Grandpa?" "No, that's a leaveitright. Leave it right there." But he would take home my rocks and cut them open with his rock saw. (No geodes!) I appreciate now all those rocks he cut open for me. My great-grandma Abby, who died when I was about a year old: Her husband (my great-grandpa) in this photo died away from ho...

I'm working on a video, but here are some of my favorite camera photos from my recent trip to NYC.

I had a fantastic time in NYC in part because every day I did something new, and doing new things is exhilirating! Not a complete list, but a sampling of my new things: ~Stayed in a new hotel, in a new part of town. ~Went to Cloisters. ~Walked through Ft. Tyron park. ~Walked across Central Park. ~Saw the new Middle Eastern and Byzantine art wings at the Met. ~Saw what an FDNY Mobile Command Center looks like and learned about what it can do. ~Learned other interesting things about FDNY capabilities. ~Found out what a cigar tastes like. ~Walked and took pictures on the High Line. ~Rode three new subway lines. ~Went to the Jewish Museum for the photography exhibit. ~Sang along (by invitation) in a small Sunday afternoon service at Trinity Church on Church Street. ~Visited the 9/11 Memorial. ~Met Fiona, my friend's new daughter. ~Stayed a few days in Bushwick with old friends and explored the area. ~Got asked by a Egyptian halal vendor "Are you Arab?" When I ...

Taken from the lookout off of 181st Street in Washington Heights, NYC.

Fabric ceiling in my study/library: Closet w/ vanity: Mural in Spanish Harlem (I think, not sure where it officially begins): George Washington Bridge: Boston:  Boston Public Library:  St. Patrick's Day in Boston:

New York City makes me miss Chongqing dreadfully. It's a relief to not have to travel by car, to walk everywhere, to be able to pop into the corner bodega for shampoo and little cookies. I brought my iPad so I could work here and there on a work project while I'm gone because of a tight deadline. I activated the hot spot on my phone, uploaded docs to mobileme and downloaded them into Pages on my iPad. I'll use my phone to wifi power the iPad to send the docs back to the office. Technology continues to amaze me. Conversation T. and I had last weekend: Me: "I just want to live in an incense palace with houseboys, is that so wrong?" T.: "There is nothing wrong with wanting to live in an incense palace with houseboys!" I knew there was a reason I love him. And I would like that incense palace to be in New York City. Thank you.

Guys, I can't think of anything to write about for 'X'. I've been delaying and delaying and...nothing. X marks none of my spots. Sorry, X. In lieu of X, here's a picture of me when I was a toddler. I found this picture because V. and I were walking down the street one day and he asked me what my natural hair color is. I told him, "It's pretty close to the color it is now." "But your hair is like three different colors." I remember feeling flattered he'd noticed my hair at all. So when I got home I dug this out of my electronic files to show him my natural hair color is pretty close to his: black. And also to show him I'd mastered jazz hands at an early age. (Well, my left hand did.) My favorite part of this picture, though, is my red tights. My mom was always dressed us very fashionably. Pretty sure I was also wearing matching red Buster Brown shoes. I don't think there was a time between ages 1 and 10 I didn't own a ...

When I have to sum up this past year? FUN! (This picture is from when I lived in San Antonio, before my dad got sick. I was really happy and carefree. I think it shows on my face. I'd take a new picture but I lost my camera in the move. So, this old one will have to do.) Probably some of the most fun times of my life. Okay, coming home from China and transitioning back to America was tough, but it was worth it for all the fun times that caused the big letdown. I mean, you can't go that low unless you've been that high, right? I was that high. (Not literally.) Probably the two biggest lessons I learned this year are: 1. Ain't nothing wrong with a good time. It's okay to just be happy. I'm a lucky, lucky girl. 2. Forgiveness is not about the other person at all, it's about you. I used to be reluctant to let go of those bad feelings that happen when someone hurts you a lot because it was like letting them win. Well, *I'm* the one carrying t...

This past 4th of July was hot, rainy and humid as Hades in Chongqing. We had our 4th of July American-style barbecue in the 8th floor stairwell because of the rain, which gradually moved into one of our apartments, because of the heat. One of the volunteers was dating a Chinese girl who spoke very fluent English and she came to our party. In the apartment we started talking about sex, as rained-out Americans in mixed company are want to do. I found out later this girl was shocked that we would discuss such things in mixed company in such detail, as this is just not done in Chinese culture. And, she was shocked at how much sex education we all had and felt comfortable discussing, period. Of course, we thought nothing of it. It reminded me that learning the language of another culture does not always equal understanding the culture. (This was also the weekend T. ate food he'd dropped on the stairwell floor and the next day got too sick to leave my apartment to go home and the resulti...

I'm revisiting my last letter, I realized I had more to say about it. My last two posts were pretty serious, so how about something more light-hearted for now? 1. Old Things. My mom abhors old things, so I know I get this from my dad, in some cases literally. This little desk was his nightstand during college, but I remember it as the place he stored wiring and electronics, etc. He gave it to me, I painted it black (not well-- needs to be redone) and I use it to store toiletries/medicine cabinet stuff. I reckon this little chest is about 40+ years old now. I love it because it was my dad's. He also gave me his Army toolbox, and a really cool old Army messenger-type bag from the 1940s. I think he got it at a surplus store, but he used it as a fishing bag and I cherish it. It's in storage right now and I have a cold and am too chicken to venture out in the snow for it. I'll share a picture another day. I bought my bed at a used furniture store for $200. It's b...

I had to take a picture to really illustrate Bunny. Our group of friends stayed in a condo just off of the main square in Jackson Hole. (For those who don't know, Jackson is a ski resort town in Wyoming, full of quaint little log-cabin style shops selling expensive stuff, most of it incorporating sheepskin and leather and/or moose. It's very cute.) We were there to go to this event ; we donated a quilt for the auction. The day of, I styled my hair in one of my favorite lazy-day hairdos, little buns atop my head: That evening I was trying to decide between keeping the little buns or shaking them out into curls. I kept the little buns, mostly because it turns out they fit nicely under my panda hat and I didn't care what my hair looked like. The event was fun! There was a live band, then a DJ. Around 1:30 a.m. we started dancing with a group of guys who all came to Jackson to work and be ski bums. Super funny, super fun, super good dancers. So I'm normally a kind...

This is me, my Chinese host mom (I lived with a host family my first two months in China) and the 15 year-old daughter of a family friend. It was quite common for us to be introduced to family friends so the kids could practice their English. I just met her that evening, but it's tradition in China for girls to hold hands, so she held my hand. I thought it was very sweet. You'll notice I'm not holding Mama's hand (the Chinese word for mom is 'Mama' so that's what I called her), but instead linking my arm. I always felt there was a social protocol for holding hands vs. linking arms; hands meant you were more friendly, while holding arms was a sign of respect. Friends can also link arms, but I would never have held Mama's hand. I have no idea if this is actually true in Chinese culture, it's just what I picked up and felt comfortable with. This was a very hot and humid August night; looking at that photo, I can feel all over again the sweat dripping...

I've been sorting through old pictures from my travels; lots of pictures of bridges and buildings. You know those job/skill aptitude tests you can take? I always got my highest score in 'spatial relations', which I've thought is a pretty lame thing to have high skill in-- so I can figure out where things should go in space, big deal! Although it does probably explain my love of bridges, because bridges are inherently rather spatial, no? I found shots a friend had sent me of NYC bridges and other scenic shots; I won't post them here because they're not mine to post, but they still bring me so much joy. Maybe I'm austistic, y'all, and bridges are my thing? From looking at old pictures, I've noticed my perspective on what constitutes 'clean and nice and inviting' has drastically changed. For example, I took this photo in Manhattan because at the time I thought, "Wow, look at all that garbage on the street! And now I think, "Wow, ...

I saw this picture on the internet and laughed out loud, because over the past year or so in Chongqing the trend has become for girls to wear control top pantyhose under their teeny-tiny shorts, so that the line of the control top shows below the line of the shorts. To them, this is very sexy and provocative. To us, it was a fashion faux pas! But if the picture is any indication, maybe it'll catch on here too? I've mentioned this before, but having bare legs is a little bit of a taboo in the city where I lived-- you can wear shorts and skirts with a 1/2 inch inseam, no problem, just don't have bare legs. And always wear high heels. In Chongqing, women literally wear high heeled shoes even when climbing mountains. It never stopped amazing me. It was always interesting to me the cultural differences in what is provocative in China vs. America. Probably the biggest other difference I noticed was cleavage: sexy and shown off in America, not so much in my city. My student...

I'm planning an East Coast trip for October; not only a chance to see my favorite parts of the U.S., but a chance to reconnect with good friends. My dream schedule is: fly to Chicago, visit the Art Institute, take a bus to Minneapolis and hang out with R. for two days; fly to NYC,  hang out with a few Peace Corps friends for a few days, bus to Boston to see E. who just moved there for work, back to NYC to take the Chinatown bus to D.C. and stay with friends there for a few days, fly to Orlando and see N., backtrack to Atlanta for a day or two, then fly home from Atlanta. Sounds great, eh? Most likely, though, I'll fly to either D.C. or NYC (whichever is cheaper) and take the bus between DC, NYC and Boston, then fly home. NYC is truly one of my favorite places on Earth. I've mentioned before that it is not as developed as Shanghai, but it has a flavor and character I adore. I need to add to my historical buildings photography project, go to Washington Heights, Chinatow...

I decided to have a traditional, formal qipao made for me before I left China. It's black with gold dragons, and ankle length. I picked out the fabric and the style and a local tailor made it: And here it is from behind. See what I told you about my butt?? Oh well, I'll soon be leaving you behind, Chinese stairs: The teacher at my school assigned to help me the last two years also became my friend. His father and grandfather survived the Cultural Revolution and have a collection of Chairman Mao pins from that era. It was important to show your allegiance to Chairman Mao, and one way to do that was to wear these pins. He gave me a pin from his family's collection as a going away gift; I was incredibly humbled by his generosity at giving me part of his family's history. I will treasure it always. I went to a Unesco World Heritage Buddhist mountain site near my city. It was a very Chinese adventure! It took me 3 buses to get to the mountain top, and I was 'ado...