Rebecca A. Foster

Yesterday while texting with a buddy from China I made a tiny obscure joke I wasn't sure he'd remember and pick up on, but he got the joke and I was *tickled pink* he still remembered, appreciated and understood with no explanation needed. Our shorthand is so very short. I adore this guy in a way different from guys I've met in America and I think it has everything to do with the crap and inconvenience and hardships we battled and two years later I wonder: how long will it be until I don't feel this attachment? I feel similar special attachments to other friends I knew there and sometimes it's like I'm trapped in this tension that will never be assuaged because we'll never live that life again. And if I always feel it, is that okay? To just live with that? I get attached to people, but as a human being I don't think that's anything to apologize for. Aren't we supposed to? (However, when someone dogs me or is constantly "too busy"...

Spanish culture places a high value on fun, which is why I believe boring is worse than bad. So when a man is repeatedly selfish/kinda jerky, I should immediately walk away, right? But if he's fun, I don't always right away. I'm not proud of this. Just keepin' it real, son. I showed the Nike ' Write the Future ' commercial in my employee training class this week and when Ronaldo came on screen, the guys immediately started with the "He's a douchebag" Ronaldo screed. I counterargued, "But he's so hot!" Which is true. You see, it's not that Ronaldo is NOT a jerk/douchebag, it's that I don't care. Don't need to. To a varying degree, this is also true of men I know: if I don't want to date them, it doesn't matter too much how selfish they are, or how often they contact or want to see me, as long as I have fun when they do. (Many guys I like I don't want to date seriously, for various reasons. And that goes bo...

Text I got recently from a night person friend: My not-a-night-person reputation precedes me. ------------------- I don't do sleepovers that often now, but in China I did them all the time because of the time and trouble it took to get places. When I stayed at T.'s or V.'s, I had to plan for things to do in the morning because I'd routinely wake up several hours before either of them did. Especially T. We're talking sometimes 5+ hours.  One thing I did at T.'s was go for a run because he lived in the countryside. Once, I forgot my key. And he lived on the top floor of the girl's dorm. And I had to stand there knocking, trying to wake him up, while girls stared up at the top floor from the courtyard, wondering who I was, trying to get into the hot American teacher's apartment at 8:00 AM dressed in skimpy running clothes. It's fun doing a walk of shame that isn't even a walk of shame! After that, pretty sure I was just called ...

If you have ever met someone for the first time and been asked, "What are you?", I think we could be friends. It's a perfectly logical question, really. What I hear: "You look different than what I expect and I need to have a category to place you in, so I want to know: what are you?" I usually explain that my father is (was) American, my mother is Chilean, and yes I look like my American father but with the coloring of my Chilean mother, no I don't speak Spanish as my first language, yes I can speak some Spanish but it is Chilean Spanish, yes I prefer wearing dresses not pants, no I don't go anywhere without lipstick on, yes I dress a little formally, no I'm not Catholic, yes I have been to Chile and can make manjar and pebre and empanadas, no I am not expected to date or marry a Chilean. These are some of the common questions I am asked and I'm not offended by them.(Okay, it is a little embarrassing when I meet someone and they begin spea...

"Rebecca," people will say to me, "you have crazy stories! How do you get yourself into these situations/meet these people/do such crazy things?" I don't think I have a good answer, but the answer I do have is: I take chances. Sometimes they fail, spectacularly so. Sometimes they are a joyride in the slip and slide of my life. Sometimes...it takes a while for me decide which column to choose. When I read this article in the NYT about technology and love and ego and the difference between liking and loving and being a whole person, it clicked: the times when I seesaw and waver and hem and haw and wonder if what I am doing is of value or going to be painful or joyful or awful or gratifying, these are the times I am probably living up to my fullest potential as a human being. Not a great human being. Not a successful human being. Just...a human being. And that's enough. My dad, when he came to pick me up from the airport two days after his terminal cancer d...

Ma La girls like hot pot. I had a hot pot dinner party at my house this past week, with spices I brought home from Chongqing. (I saved the wrappers and I'll be taking them to the Asian market to see if they can order more for me.) Here is the food table, next to the eating table. In China the plates of food for hot pot come out on a multi-tiered cart, but because I don't have one of those, I used a card table. There are meatballs, little smokies, lotus, rice sticks, quail's eggs, noodles, squids, and two kinds of tofu. (We also had golden mushrooms and chicken pieces but those were already on the table.) Here is a shot of the table set up. I bought an induction cooker to use in my apartment, because that's the kind of cooker I had in China and I found I prefer it to the convection cooking more popular here in America. I used it that night for the hot pot; not only is it portable to the table, but inductions don't get hot like convections so no one was going to ...

(A topic from the book.) My 4-inch platform sandals were cute and somewhat practical in America, with our cleanly paved sidewalks and parking lots and car transportation culture. But in China, with its broken tiles, ripped up sidewalks and walking culture? Still cute, but wildly impractical. (Below, a typical sidewalk in my part of the Chinese woods.) I wore them anyway. 'Cultural integration' is one of the phrases you hear often in the Peace Corps; a large part of our pre-arrival weekend meeting involved telling us if we didn't successfully culturally integrate into our country of service, we were going to be a failure as a volunteer at best, and at worst, dead in the street. (No, not kidding. Now you know why I was so stressed out that weekend .) V. and I were making our way home from an evening downtown, he in his appropriate footwear and me in my platform sandals. I hadn't walked in shoes like these for several months and about every 50 feet, I weeble-wobb...

While in China, I put this mix list together for a friend. I have vague memories of dancing to it one night at his apartment; I have even vaguer memories of dancing to all of these songs back in the day. The 90's were fun. (I've included hyperlinks to every song on YouTube.) 1. Wild Thing - Tone Loc 2. I Wish - Skee Lo 3. Return of the Mack - Mark Morrison 4. Dazzey Duks - 69 Boyz 5. Ain't Too Proud To Beg - TLC 6. Get It On Tonite - Montell Jordan 7. 1,2,3,4 - Coolio 8. Doin' It - LL Cool J 9. You're Making Me High - Toni Braxton 10. The Humpty Dance - Digital Underground 11. Hypnotize - Notorious B.I.G. 12. Rumpshaker - Wreckx N Effect 13. Sweat - Inner Circle 14. Wiggle It - 2 In A Room 15. Move This - Technotronic 16. Temptations - 2Pac 17. Do Me! - Bel Biv Devoe 18. O.P.P - Naughty by Nature 19. Pony - Genuwine 20. Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-A-Lot 21. Tootsee Roll - 69 Boyz 22. Ditty - Paperboy 23. Whoot! There It Is ...

You might have heard that China doesn't allow people to express their opinions about the government publicly and doesn't allow freedom of speech. This is all true. One of my great disappointments in learning Mandarin was realizing no one was saying anything really worth overhearing. People won't express a contrary opinion publicly, so they don't say anything opinionated at all. Casual conversations flow about food, fashion and money and not much else. Which is why it was so shocking when I was judging a Shanghai Education Press-sponsored, city-wide high school English speech competition, and one of the girls opened her speech in the crowded auditorium by saying, "Our hands built the buildings that fell during the earthquake; our hands made the milk that killed the babies." (Referring to the tens of thousands killed by shoddy building construction and the tainted milk scandal hushed up because of the Olympics.) I was floored, and shocked, and nervous fo...

(Note: I really dislike Facebook in theory and practice and I've given up for the second time trying to use it. It's not you, it's me, Facebook. Well, maybe it *is* you.) China and I have a complicated relationship these days. So many things I miss: my sense of community, my fruit lady, my veggie lady, my shaokao guy, my baozi girl, the stairs and hills and daily walks, the easy-going nights, the fun days of teaching, my friends and students and public transport and feeling like every day was something new. And of course that includes R. and T. and V. and J. and my other close friends there. Some days I feel like I'm never really going to fit in in America again, or be content here. It would be weird, right, if I spent all that time in China and didn't change? How can I come back and live an ordinary American life again? How can I want to date an American who is going to expect me settle down in a suburb with an SUV? (Short answer: I refuse to do that.) But th...

1. The Guggenheim building is far more interesting than the Guggenheim collection. 2. I thought St. Pat's Day in Boston would be cra-zay. Maybe for New England, it is. I would like to invite all Bostonians to San Antonio for Fiesta . Cra-zay! I really liked Boston, but I am far too spirited and not nearly preppy enough to ever live there. 3. We went back to a friend-of-a-friend's apartment, where I accidentally left behind my McSorley's mug when leaving to go home for the night. The friend-of-a-friend had to walk me back to his pad to get it. Pretty sure he (and his doorman) thought this was as ploy for me to stay the night. Nope, I just really am that absent-minded. On the way to the subway (again), he asked me "You're not going to tweet about this, are you?" (Meaning everything that went down that night. He's an actor.) I was caught off guard by his question; is that really a thing people say now??? No. No I'm not. 4. NYC, please get a mag-lev ...

A big part of Chinese culture is sitting at night at a beer garden; this activity starts after dinner and often goes until the early morning hours. The beer gardens are located outside restaurants or sprung up on sidewalks next to food tables and carts. It is common for the sidewalks in my city to be lined with beer gardens. Beer gardens aren't a weekend thing, they're an everyday activity. As I have mentioned here before, it takes so long to do anything in my part of China, there isn't an expectation to do more than 1 or 2 things per day. For the Chinese in my city, sitting at night at a beer garden with family or friends is a really important part of daily life. Chinese culture is structured around relationships; this is part of building them. Most volunteers took to this custom quickly and easily. The video below is not only a good example of the atmosphere of these places (notice the blue stools we're sitting on), but also of the amount of free time we had on ou...

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.

I read this blog post about a memorable mix tape, and it reminded me of the box of mix tapes (and mix CDs) boxed up in my storage space. I got my first mix tapes from A., in high school. He was the rebel, I was the studious good girl, and twain we met over debate class and mix tapes. His tapes leaned heavily on b-sides of The Posies and Fugazi, with Nitzer Ebb  and obscure Japanese-release-only Depeche Mode songs thrown in for good measure. My friend C. made me mix tapes in college, mostly songs by alternative bands he found rummaging through second-hand record stores; I'd never heard of most of them, but he did introduce me to Henry Rollins, something I'll never forget. He sent them to me through the mail and I loved getting that recognizable padded envelope. We never dated, but I'd like to think a man who will go to the post office for you thinks you're pretty great. The creme of my mix tape cookie was S., who made me mix CDs by the dozens, full of alterna-rock...

After the roller-coaster that was life in China, life back in America can sometimes seem a little...plain. Not bad. Plain. So this is life now: work hard, go to bed early, get up early, meditate, read, study, make time for friends, talk over the internet with far-flung well-loved friends, make vacation plans, work on art projects, watch Community , shop for food, do laundry, clean, Netflix in bed, cook, do all of these things many times all over again. It's a good life. I'm adapting to life here in the American Western desert, but it sure does take some getting used to. I've met some fun people here and I'm reminded again that 99% of people in this world are good-hearted and kind and worth knowing. I'm now able to accept I liked those not-so-good guys in my past because I didn't believe I was worth more than how they treated me. It's hard to admit that, but overcoming it has made a big difference in my life. Kind and steady beats jerky and exciting a...

R. had the great idea yesterday that we should write a book together about our daily life experiences in China. I said this sentence to R. while we were video chatting: "It was when you were in Tibet, the night we had all the gin and tonics and got sprayed down in the street by the paint truck..." and I wasn't even telling all of that as the story, it was just the setup to the story. And she stopped me with a "Do you hear yourself? Our lives are never going to be like that again. When will you ever get the experiences to say a sentence like that again?" And she's right. Our remarkable lives became common place and ordinary to us. So we watch to recapture our now-remarkable-again experiences for posterity. She's the editor; we'll both contribute. I'm really excited to start this project. I picked up a new sketchpad tonight to start collecting things I'll include as inspiration and illustration. Even if we only publish it for two people, i...

Today is my birthday and I have been overwhelmed with the good wishes and kindness shown to me. I plan on answering everyone individually, but until then, THANK YOU! You have made me feel very loved and remembered. A new guy I work with offered to take me technology shopping last week because he knows a lot more about these things than I do. I don't know him well, so I was really touched at his generosity. I am now the new owner of a flat screen lcd tv (the first tv I've ever purchased) and a Blu-Ray wifi dvd player, purchased at his advice, and through which I can stream Netflix and Pandora over my television. The technology available to me in America still blows me away. And as a birthday gift he bought me the HDMI cord I needed to hook my new dvd player to the TV. I was surprised, because as I said, we barely know each other, but he is a generous and thoughtful person. Good people are everywhere. The first movie I watched? This is not a good movie. But, um, I enjoy hi...

I mentioned recently that if you're a guy, and you wind up, you should follow through so the girl doesn't wonder why you dropped the ball. Well, I have dropped a few balls in my life, friends. I don't know if I remember all of them, but I remember these: J.: Sorry about the symphony, and that night at my house, and the next morning at breakfast. I don't know what got into me. You were so cute! You just out-cuted me. S.: Sorry about the fishing trip. But like I said, I'm not really the outdoorsy type. T.: Sorry about how we said goodbye. I know it's my fault for misremembering when my plane left, which meant we arrived at the airport 15 minutes before my flight took off. Things were a little rushed. Sorry. And yes, I always double check now. B.: Sorry for that night on my doorstep when you were hugging me, put your hand on the back of my head and sighed. I thought we were Just Friends. I didn't know what to do about the sighing without thinking about...

Picture it: Arizona, 1997-ish. I've gone to visit my friend T. in Mesa, but we are Just Friends, capital J, capital F. The kind of Just Friends who, because we attend universities in different states, travel to visit each other a couple of times a year. Around 11 PM we go for a late night swim (yay Arizona winter weather!), then head downtown in his brand new car. I'm poking through the CDs in the center console when I find one clearly labeled 'Make-Out Mix.' Now, let's ignore for a moment the fact someone actually labels their CD 'Make-Out Mix' instead of something more innocuous like 'Slow Jams.' (Those two things are always the same, right?) I hold up the CD so I can see by passing streetlight if my eyes are really seeing what they're seeing. Being the kind of girl I am, the following exchange goes down: Me: "Make-Out Mix? Realllly?" T: "Oh... yeah. Um, I've had that CD forever, it's old, I forgot it was in there....

One difficulty of living in China: lack of privacy. Sometimes in ways you'd never anticipate. We had a disagreement in the middle of the very crowded, busy public square near my apartment; no yelling, but I was pretty upset. He asked if he could walk me home; the two kilometers to my apartment were passed in absolute silence. Oh, what I would have given for the privacy of a car at that moment! A car I could jump into and speed off and listen to the radio too loud to assuage my hurt feelings. A way to get the hell away from him right on the spot. Near my apartment, we ran into American friends at the beer garden just outside my building. They beckoned us to join them, and as we sat down on our little playskool-sized plastic chairs, we had to pretend everything was fine. And a funny thing happened: everything became fine. After hanging out with them for a while, he and I went to my apartment; he cooked me some food, we talked, things were okay. One of the hardest things about C...