Further Up and Further In

The natural outflow of the heart, that God intended, is love. The natural outflow of love from Chinese people is good food. I step into the kitchen, ready to help with dinner prep. I see someone washing dishes, one person deboning a chicken, someone else mixing something in a bowl, pots of water boiling, a guy chopping veggies but the thing that hits me is the language. All that I hear is Chinese, Mandarin or Cantonese, I can't even tell. But it's being vigorously jabbered around the kitchen as someone asks a question, someone else responds, comments and opinions are flying around and it all blends together for me. "Wait, wait, time out", you're thinking. "Don't you, Francesca, speak Chinese? Aren't you at least Asian the last time I checked?" Yes, I am still Asian and yes, I am Chinese. But no, I do not speak the language. I wish that I could but being of the third generation, I'm not bilingual as most of the second generation are,

Thankful for home Clear white droplets adorning Sweet frosty kisses This photo was taken at my home in New Hampshire over Thanksgiving break. I woke up to a beautifully thin layer of white over everything and had to take some pictures of the outdoors. This was one of my favorites.

Traber lawn If you were on 3East this past Friday night, you may have heard things like this... *bouncing down the hallway* "guys, it's SNOWING!!!" "Wait, is it really?" "Let's look outside the window!" "I've never seen snow before!!" "This is so exciting!!!" "It's so pretty" "It'll probably keep snowing and be all white when we wake up tomorrow morning" "If it is, I'm going to FLIP out!" "Who wants to do the Kingdom Run??!" (*ahem*, Liz) And so forth... Saturday morning arose and we found everything beautifully covered in white and the snow still falling thick and fast. My roommate gazed out our dorm window exclaiming about how pretty everything looks with the delicate fluffiness lighting upon trees, houses and cars. I've lived through many New Hampshire winters and even one Canadian one so snow isn't new to me but I am reminded of the awe and delig

"What are you?" The question is often put Kindly, curiously, jokingly, "Take a guess" I reply with a smile For I take no offense They often guess right I'm Chinese through and through But I'm also American born and bred Who am I? A Chinese American Christian girl Who is more American than Asian Who doesn't speak the language Who didn't grow up going to Chinese church or school Who has mostly white friends Who feels slightly out of place in Chinese culture But very comfortable in white culture Who straddles both worlds And yet is not fully at home in either What do I do? I spend time with white friends I make Asian ones but not because they're Asian But because they are people I share my culture with those who are interested I give out Pocky snacks and guava candies to my friends I eagerly jump in on a Chinatown expedition I try to share with others the heritage that I don't fully understand myself Why is it this

At 12:30pm in the afternoon, my history professor announced, "We're going to go outside and do a race!" About 30 college students filed out with some groaning and complaining, knowing how hot and muggy it was outside. We somewhat mockingly complained that "it wasn't fair" as we had just been asked to define the words, "fair", "equal", and "justice". Little did we know how "unfair" the race would be. We lined up along the sidewalk with the majority being white females with a handful of guys and other ethnicities mixed in. Then my professor started calling out statements such as... If you have ever visited a foreign country, take one step forward. If you had more than 50 books in your house growing up, take one step forward. If English is not your first language, take one step back. If you have a family member on welfare, take one step back. If you can walk into any grocery store and buy the staple foods of your

Haworth youth hostel in gothic style Welcome to  Haworth - a tiny English town, remembered only for the Bronte sisters, Anne, Charlotte and Emily. This Wheaton in England student was unimpressed with the Bronte parsonage itself. By this point in the trip--5 weeks in--she had seen enough reconstructed historical houses filled with historical furniture, historical clothing and historical memorabilia that were only interesting because a famous person had used it, sat at it, or kept it. Please forgive her slightly cynical attitude, she was weary, emotionally and mentally, and ready to go home. But if you're disappointed by how she treated the parsonage, perhaps she made up for it in her delight of the moors of Haworth. Moors + friends = fantabulous! After climbing slowly but steadily up incline after incline, the famed moors of England spread themselves out before her eyes. The rocks were just begging to be climbed on and she and her friends answered the call. Shouts and excl

Chapter House in York Minster The title is my somewhat tongue-in-cheek conception of York during the 4 days we were there. The city does exist, if you go and visit Yorkshire, England, you will find a lovely old city. But we had the equivalent of “finals week” over the period of 3 days while we were in York so between studying for exams, writing papers, working on group presentations and having to walk 30 minutes into the downtown area, we saw very little of the historic city, at least, I did. On Sunday morning, we went to York Minster for service which ended up being 2 and ½ hours long, 30 page bulletin, because it was a special service for deacon ordination. While it is great that people are being ordained to work in specific positions in churches, we were already tired and it was a VERY long service. I did walk around the city a little bit after church, mostly poking around antiquarian bookstores. So TANGENT. One of my favorite things about the trip as a w

Punting past King's College 19 is just an awkward number in general. When you're counting, you're almost to 20 but you stop at this weird number inbetween the divisible number of 18 and the lovely round number of 20. Being 19 years old is therefore just kind of weird. 18 is exciting because you are a legal adult in the US and 20 is leaving behind your teens and continuing the process of growing up. But poor 19 gets to be the awkward age in the middle. Not much generally happens on your 19th birthday because what do you celebrate? Well, personally, I never thought that I’d be celebrating my 19 th birthday in England going punting on the river Cam in Cambridge. But that’s what happened! We did group punting down the river and I did try my hand at it. It is harder than it looks (as many things are) and takes more strength than you would think. I forget how difficult it is to pull things through water. I don’t have any pictures of myself but here is one of my friends punt

The gorgeous Jurassic Coast The title is a trick question. The answer is both! But for all intents and purposes in this post, I am referring to the latter. Two weeks in the picturesque English countryside, that sounds lovely, does it not? That's what I thought as our large coach bus squeezed through the small roads of Beer and the townspeople popped out their heads to watch us go by. We dragged our luggage up a very steep hill and beheld our cozy youth hostel completes with a scenic view and a lovely breeze. As Celia in As You Like It said, "I like this place. And willingly could waste my time in it." Two weeks of intensive classes ensued with 17th Century Literature, Jane Austen, Travel Writing and Literature in Place picking up at full speed. I started reading Paradise Lost by John Milton, re-watching the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice (for class, see my last post), trying to compose a coherent travel essay about cathedrals and having intelligent di