Electricity in Preschool

I read really fast. I was always a fast reader – in preschool I prided myself in the fact that I could read the word “electricity”. Is that normal for a preschooler? Perhaps it is simply average…maybe I was a just a mediocre kid; I’ll never know.

I read lots of books, on all sorts of different and interesting topics. Normally, I am reading at least 3 books at a time: one for pleasure (good old John Grisham or ever entertaining Jane Austin), one for learning (author of the moment – Howard Hendricks), and one for spiritual growth (still plugging away at Celebration of Discipline). I like it this way – I can read depending on my mood.

I’ve read a lot of books in the past 2 years – I can’t even remember which ones. What did I learn from all this reading, you might ask? Absolutely nothing. Which brings me to my point.

I have decided to try something different from now on. Obviously my reading strategy wasn’t working for me – I need a new technique. Ol’ Hendricks has a great idea – spend more time reflecting. If you have an hour allotted for reading, for example, spend 30 minutes reading and 30 minutes reflecting. That’s my problem. I don’t reflect. I cruise through a book, thinking “oh, this is interesting”, but I never think about the words beyond the pages of the book. So the first thing that I chose to reflect on was about how to reflect on your reading...hmm.

I’ve learned a lot since I’ve started using this technique. It really works - I should start my own infomercial! In honor of this new method I have adopted, here’s a few things I learned, off-hand. (The only reason I can remember them off-hand is that I though and reflected on them – amazing!)

“The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent or gifted people, but for deep people”. (Richard J. Foster) Depth of experience, depth of wisdom, conversation, thinking, prayer - whatever. I’m tired of talking about American Idol and the weather. It’s high time we moved out of the comfort of superficiality and into the vulnerability and riskiness of depth. It’s worth it.

Mining 1 ounce of gold (about the amount used in an average wedding ring) displaces about 250 tons of rock and ore. But it’s not just about the environment; think you’re doing your good deed for the world by not buying ‘blood diamonds’? One third of all the world’s gold is illegally mined, and some is used to fund violence. Dirty gold. (From National Geographic)

“Jesus looked on him and loved him” – Mark 10:21
The Bible is amazing because it is packed with so many layers of depth and insight. Whether you skim the book of Mark as a whole or study the dots and the commas, it reveals something new and rich and wonderful about the character of God. When we look at people, do we love them with real, genuine love from the heart? Do we love the FedEx man, the parking meter guy, and the strangers we stroll by? Jesus did. How wonderful – and challenging – are these seven words.


“Instead of asking God why there is so much poverty and suffering in the world, we should be asking ourselves why we allow it to happen; we are Christ’s body, hands, and feet”. (Shane Claiborne) If that’s not convicting, I don’t know what else is. Enough said.

Scaling my Teeth

I love the dentist. The Treece family dentist, the beloved Dr. Parker, is legendary.

My family was so loyal to him that even when we moved from Tacoma to Yakima, we never changed dentists. My mom would pull us out of school for a day and make the 2.5 hour drive for our appointments every 6 months. It was great for me. Every appointment he kisses me on the forehead, asks me how the drive over the pass was (we would face snow storms on Snoqualmie Pass to get to him), and how school is. Am I getting good grades? Am I staying away from boys? Am I flossing? He says I have the healthiest gums he's ever seen. Then afterward, he would give me a paper bag full of dental goodies: floss, toothbrushes, and a toy that I got to pick out from the infamous toy basket. Then after all of our appointments, he would give us lunch at the nearby burger joint. Then my mom, brother and I would go to McChord Air Force Base PX and shop. Since this was only a biannual event and the military makes things cheaper, we got away with getting all sorts of stuff that we normally couldn't get at home - God bless the Armed Forces! All of this (with the exception of the toy basket) happened the same way for 15 years. My mom has a polaroid picture of me and Dr. Parker that was taken at my FIRST dentist appointment. My last appointment with Dr. Parker was in 2008.

Today I went to see a new dentist: Dr. KK Ong. Since I'm going home without dental coverage (and Dr. Parker probably isn't nice enough to do me free of charge), I thought it was high time to get some work done on my pearly whites before I return home to the extorting dentists of America.

I was a little wary of seeing the dentist. Not because it's a dentist here in Malaysia - I have full confidence in them, despite what my mother tries to tell me. It's because no other person has worked on my teeth besides my beloved childhood (and grown up) dentist, Dr. Parker.

The first thing Dr. Ong noticed was my "milk tooth": The baby tooth that I still retain on my lower jaw. "It's very rare" he says, "only one in two or three thousand." I told him it was genetic - my mom and my brother both have one, in the same exact spot in our mouths. The Treeces are a genetic anomaly. He was even able to show me on his super deluxe tooth camera hooked up to the TV screen in front of me.

All I wanted done was a cleaning. They tried to convince me to have some scaling done, but then I realized that "scaling" meant "cleaning". Scaling is the weaker version of cleaning I think, because my teeth don't feel very clean. He just sprayed sodium bicarbonate all over my mouth and face. I miss Mr. Parker's cleaning...he really got in there. Plus, he would let me choose the flavor of the toothpaste AND mouthwash.

Then Dr. Ong started acting kind of wierd. He was saying over and over, "Sorry, I'm very sorry, but unfortunately..." You'd think I was about to die of gingivitis. Turns out I had a hole in my tooth. He showed me on the super deluxe tooth camera - yup, I have a hole in my tooth. A small hole, but still an empty void near my gum line. He kept being all sympathetic about it like I just lost a child or something. Just fill it, Dr. Ong - I'm tough, I can take it. My teeth have been through everything. An x-ray and a 10-minute filling later, I was finished. No more hole.

Scaling, an x-ray, and a filling, all for $40! But no complimentary floss or toothbrush. I miss you Dr. Parker :(

Free day

I had a long weekend and I am still tired. Today, I game myself a day off. It is Tuesday and I normally feel like I should be doing something productive, but I woke up this morning determined to do exactly the opposite.

So I got up, read a little, ate breakfast, and checked my email. I found an essay that I had written in college: "The evolution of man". I needed to find a writing sample for another piece of my grad school application and I was a little worried about finding one since my computer crashed right after I graduated. This is the lone piece of writing that I was able to salvage from my SPU email account, besides some statistical analyses from biostatistics! Therefore my application will include “the evolution of man”:

“There are many questions yet to be answered regarding human evolution; only time will tell if we will ever fully understand the origin of humankind.”

Thought provoking, erin. That was for BIO 4330: Evolutionary Mechanisms. I miss Dr. Nelson.

Then I ate leftovers for lunch and the postman stopped by and delivered a package from my mom. A Gatorade packet exploded red powder all over its contents, but it doesn’t make the dried Costco cranberries any less delicious.

I went to the gym and lifted weights, then I went for a swim. I came back and made myself a delicious cup of tea with my new Pakistani masala spice mix. Last weekend I was determined to find some masala tea powder, and I visited every single one of the spice shops in Little India to find it. The Pakistani stuff is good enough for me. Over this hot cup of chai I read an article on an IceHotel in Sweden. Apparently they make the snow that they use for the building; artificially-made snowflakes are more compact and freezes clearer than natural snow. Fascinating.

I went to the pasar malam (night market) to buy fruits and veggies. For dinner, I ate one of my favorites: Prawn Mee. mmmmmm

This evening I read the chapter on "service" in Foster's Celebration of Discipline. I learned that it is an act of service to allow other people to serve you. Serving others comes pretty naturally for me, but I don't often like to accept it from others...a trait I surely inherited from my mother. Foster says, "Those who, out of pride, refuse to be served are failing to submit to the divinely appointed leadership in the kingdom of God." (Kingdom of God leadership being....Whoever would be great among you must be your servant...." (Matt 20:25) We deny them the blessing of service if we don't accept their gift!

Then I found my long-lost Burmese roommate from 6 years ago! Not physically, but virtually, on the internet. I thought of her every once in a while last year when I was with the refugees here; and I was sad that I never heard her full story of how her family left Burma and made it to the States. Is her story as bad as the others I have heard? Were they able to come freely or were they resettled? Charis and I lived together for only a quarter - then I got a German for a roomie - I love you Jen :) But I did get to join in with her on some delicious Asian food and Burmese church services in Kent. She showed me around the Seattle Chinatown, and for that I am eternally grateful (especially in the coming 2 years!)

These are reflections of my random day. I could probably use another day like this tomorrow, but the morning beckons for an early run and never ending meetings.

Evie

Introducing Evie Annabelle Treece!





She is the 7th addition to the young Treece generation! It all started off in 1996 when Hannah was born... I was just 12 years old. I remember pushing her stroller around my middle school. She turns 13 this November. She can babysit. In 3 years, she can drive a car. In 6 years she can vote. Wow that makes me feel old.
The Treece clan isn't finished producing babies yet, however; my sister Kerry going to have another little girl in May!

The irony of erininnepal

When I went to Nepal in 2002, I created a new email address: Erininnepal@...com. How creative. I used this up until last year when I switched to a boring gmail address. So I spent 6 years outside Nepal using an email address saying erin was in Nepal. This makes no sense. How ironic is it, then, that as soon as I change this email address I start again working with the Nepalese. And how strange is it that I came all the way to Malaysia to work with the Nepalese.

Nepali men come here to Malaysia as migrant workers. Unemployment is so high in Nepal, especially in the villages, that the nation sends many of it able-bodied men abroad. They end up working in factories, construction, and other tough jobs. If their employers are fair and honest, they can make enough money to send home to their families. If they aren't, they go into debt bondage and become trapped, quite literally. They work for 2 or 3 year contracts and go back to Nepal at the end of time. Like any normal person, they would love to stay home with their families more than anything, but they're never quite able to make the transition back into life at home. Many of them have become believers, and now that they've become the main income for the family they're expected to provide forever. So they go away for contract after contract, despite the families and wives and children they leave behind. One man in my class was in Malaysia for three years, and had a three year old daughter that he had never seen. He finally went back to Nepal last month. Can you imagine?

Our purpose is to help make that transition home a little easier. To give them the knowledge, ideas, and skills to go home, stay home, and make a positive difference in their communities. Things like principles of community development, the process of (and resistence to) change, and basic leadership skills, etc. I finished our first 12 week series in November. I was pretty sad about it ending, but I've gotten to see most of the guys since then. Two of them have gone home. There was one addition to the group when Rabin and Gita had their baby. Can you guess what they named it? Ragita.

I love these guys. I am so proud of them. They suffered through 12 whole weeks with me. I admire how big they dream despite their circumstances. What amazing visions they have for their villages and families back home. They can reach areas in Nepal that would be impossible for me to get to. So I don't even have to go to Nepal...they've come to me!!

Below are some pictures from our community transformation seminar.



Drawing maps of their communities - what they would look like if Jesus was Lord of their villages




Weighing risks/benefits of starting their own small business.


The graduates! They're all smiles until someone pulls a camera out.

The art of appreciation

Oh, the things we take for granted...



I ran into a quote in Singapore that says 'the true voyage is not in seeking new lands, but seeing with new eyes.' If only our eyes could be opened to how ridiculously amazing everything is. Airplanes. Sidewalks (you don't miss them till they're gone). Velcro. The internet.

And for me, how incredible Malaysia is. The fact that I can see both the rainforest and the ocean from my balcony. There's a waterfall behind there too.


My easter peep and the sea.

I can get the most delicious Chinese and Indian food anytime I want. I have tile floors...my favorite. My airplane ticket to Bangkok cost me a whopping $66...who else could say that? I can drink the tap water (my mom would cringe). I can watch American Idol. I'm able to teach and make a difference in the lives of the poor. I can see movies for $2. I have my very own Malaysian 'tour guide/interpreter' with me always. What an amazing place I live in!!!
We get caught up on the few negative things about where we live that we lose sight of the many, many great things. I could get get mad at my neighbor's drum set, but then I get to hear the tropical birds singing on my balcony every morning. I may miss my Yakima peaches, nectarines, and plums, but I get to eat pineapple, papaya, and dragonfruit!! When I see that dead dog rotting away on the beach, I should be grateful that I leave so near to the sandy shores (as stinky as they are!)


People in general here grumble against the foreign workers from Indonesia, Nepal, Sri Lanka, India, Bangladesh, and the Phillipines, but I am so grateful for such diversity and the opportunity to serve some of them! I don't even have to go to Indonesia, Nepal, and Bangladesh...they've come to us!


So turn that frown upside down!

This is the 5-star resort that is a 10 minute drive from my place...and my favorite beach chair.

Rags to Raja

So I recently heard this supposedly incredible movie called Slumdog Millionaire. It won 8 Oscars this year. Hmm, sounds interesting. Lucky for me, it just came out in the cinema here last week. I heard about some of the child actor controversy, but I decided that I wouldn't make an opinion about it until I saw the movie for myself. I wanted to see what the hype was all about, and if it was good because it really was good, for if it was good just because the media and the Oscar people told everyone it was. There's a difference, people.

And it was amazing!! What I love so much about it is that it didn't portray the slums and the people in a way that is asking people to pity them like other films raising social awareness(take Angelina Jolie's Beyond Borders, for one example). It went along the lines of Constant Gardener (and its portrayal of Kibera) in choosing to show life in the slums, rather than death. The last thing the poor need is more pity. Even if 500 people pity a poor man it makes no difference in his life if no one does anything about it. Instead of being a sad and tragic pity party, Slumdog Millionaire portrays India as vibrant, pulsating, devastating, and chaotic. It celebrates life. It weaves together passion and poverty. Love triumphs over all, even in the slums.

The UN approximates that 1 billion people today live in slums [And they predict this number will double by 2030]

Slum = “a heavily populated urban area characterised by substandard housing and squalor”. And possessing several of the following:
• Inadequate access to safe water;
• Inadequate access to sanitation and other infrastructure;
• Poor structural quality of housing;
• Overcrowding; and
• Insecure residential status.

This is a map representing the location of the 30 biggest "mega-slums" in the World (circle size correlates with population size), according to Davis' book "Planet of Slums":


Wow, look at Mexico city.

Anyway, it's easy to look at slums (or a picture of a slum or a picture of statistics of slums) and forget that people actually live there. It's more than corrugated metal and tarps and open sewers. One good thing about this film is that it shows that slums are more than slums-they're full of life and people. People aren't just the numbers or statistics that we hear in the news, but have names and faces and members of families- and somebody's loved ones. Life goes on. People go to work and school. And Jamal and Salim and Latika could have just as easily been Khumar, Samal, Agharia, who perhaps fared a far worse fate. I don't think the American audience is ready to see that yet.

Who cares if it's not Indian enough, as Bollywood claims. The book was written by an Indian and adapted for film by a Westerner...it was made to be a blend of both worlds. However, the song and dance number in the credits was rather weak, in my opinion. Let me tell you that as of this moment, the world has more than enough Bollywood films. There's enough song and dance numbers to last till the end of time; I feel like I have the authority to say this confidently because I have already seen half of them. Not that I'm not knocking on them or anything.