My Groove..is back!

I just wanted to write a little post to say that I feel like ‘My Groove is BACK!’

Yesterday I snacked all day..naughty me..and I could feel the routine of a weekend kicking in a bit…eating because I am lonely. So I decided..nope not going to happen!

I went to the gym and did the following workout: 40 minutes on the treadmill @ 4.5 mph or 6.7kph: 1 min intervals–5 minutes each

• 3%, 4%, 5%, 6%, 7%
• 3%, 4.5%, 6%, 7.5%, 9%
• 3%, 5%, 7%, 9%, 11%
• Ran on 0% increasing from 9.5km, 10kmh, 10.5kmh, 11kmh, 10.5kmh, 10kmh
• 3%, 4%, 5%, 6%, 7%
• 3%, 4.5%, 6%, 7.5%, 9%
• 3%, 5%, 7%, 9%, 11%
• Then walked for the last five minutes

It was such a good workout. Then did some ab work from the Angela’s Boot Camp. I honestly felt great.

I went out and celebrated Sally’s birthday at Little Creatures. I ended up splitting an amazing salad w/ the amazing balsamic dressing w/ red onion, 1/2 avocado and some Parmesan. I then had about 1 cup of fries and 2 big glasses of white wine.

I said to my friend Sara…I feel like I have my groove back. I feel beautiful and honestly like I have my head wrapped around the positive things in life. I feel like I have the spring in my step back. She said to me ‘I was going to say something, you just look great!’

I don’t really understand all of the post-Timor transformations that I have gone through. However, I know a couple of things which in my heart I know aren’t phases:

1. I own and control my own destiny and my soul
2. I own and control how I feel about myself–and that’s is the most important thing
3. I will NEVER feel guilty about eating again–if I overeat or splurge I enjoy it and move on. However, knowing that– makes me not want to overeat or splurge on things my gut doesn’t love.
4. Don’t eat to ‘be good’ eat to feel good!–THAT’S HUGE. ‘Is that actually going to agree with my stomach?’ ‘Is that going to make me feel good?’ If no…then why do you want to eat it?
5. Exercise is a huge and important part of my life now.–I don’t loathe it. I don’t exercise because I have eaten too much and need to cut calories. I am not trying to use exercise as a ‘quick fix’ to being overweight. It brings me joy and I love it. I also sleep a lot better.
6. I tell myself every morning ‘You are beautiful, strong, and worthy’
7. I am beginning to listen to my hunger signals. Genuinely listening. Feeding my body when it’s hungry, hydrating when I am thirsty. Shutting off the mental ‘you need to eat because ________’ This is huge for me. I honestly still struggle a bit..but I am ok with that. Each day it gets easier.
   

Those work for me. I have battled..let me tell you..sadly to find my groove. I found it. It feels nice.

Armour is off..Real me is HERE!

Eating is not about “being good”, its about feeling good

My clothes..the ones which are not sticking to my body, or having fat rolls hanging over them at the top…are sticking to my body and having fat rolls over the top.

After a late night blah baking blah binge blah…I tried some pants on that I almost got rid of last October because they were too big. Now I can hardly button them up.

The whole ‘you need to crash diet and run run run’…popped into my head full force. However, I didn’t want to give into the whole ‘I promise tomorrow that I’ll be this or that’. I am not making any more promise to myself..except that I am going to be ME. Because I know what that feels like and it’s good..really damn good.

I have started the 79days as a way to honestly focus on mentally letting go of all the crap, hurt, b-shit that has been running through my head for eight years. Eight years of counting points, not feeling beautiful, hiding my real self, constantly being worried about what I looked liked, being consumed with reaching someone else’s standards.

Then I went to Timor. Shed it all…and enjoyed every single EVERY SINGLE morsel of fried bread..and lost weight, cms and lost the consumed with my body Michelle.

Then I touched down in Australia..or anywhere else for that matter and BAM right back into old habits.

Well…just for a couple of days.

So…I told myself last night. This isn’t about weight goals, or running this or lifting that. It’s about truly listening to the person that I found/re-discovered in Timor. The strong, vivacious, honest, intouch Michelle. It’s not even the Real v. False. It’s Michelle. It’s Me. It’s Me and I am here.

To the old Michelle, thank you.

To the new Michelle, thank god I found you…again.

Brazilian Coconuts

Below are e-mail excerpts from Caitlin’s time in BRAZIL! What a lucky girl!

Bom Dia!

We have been in Fortaleza about a week now and we are having a lovely time. The first couple of days we raining SO hard it was unbelievable! I seriously saw the biggest rainstorm in my entire life. Murilo and I had gone out to dinner with all of his friends at this great sushi restaurant. Right before we all were leaving, it started to pour. Within 10 minutes the streets were flooded up to my shins! Murilo was a gentleman and ran to get the car for me… but it really didn´t help. As I simply ran from the front of of the restaurant to the other side of his car, my pants were soaked, my hair was dripping and my feet were underwater! Now imagine what Murilo must have looked like, for he had to run all the way around the building!!!! We could barely see out of the windows, and believe you me, driving in Fortaleza is tough enough without seeing. Drivers here are INSANE. We had to roll down the windows and stick our heads out. Ha. By the time we got home, it was lightning and thundering – basically the LOUDEST thunder in my life. It was so cool.

After those first days, it has been sunny and beautiful. We have been going to the praia almost every day. I am getting very tan. I never knew I had so many freckles. Ha.

Don´t worry Mom, I´m using sunscreen!!! We put it on before we go, and again after we swim. We have made a friend at the beach. His name is Davidson and he´s 15. He sells coconuts to the guests.

He really liked me for some reason, and told Murilo that he was the luckiest guy in the world to find someone like me that was so nice. He´s so cute. He gets so excited when we show up. It puts things in perspective, because he´s very smart (he LOVES riddles), but he´s not in school and he works from 6:30 – 6:30 or 7pm every day to sell coconuts. It makes me sad.

The poverty here still takes me by surprise. The other day we were at the mall and right next to, and I mean right next to the parking structure there is a favela (a shanty town) with clothes hanging to dry almost inside of the mall parking lot. That is what is so different with the poverty here – it´s in the middle of very nice places. Smack dab in between a very nice shopping center and one of the best restaurants in town, there will be a little favela with children with no shoes, starving donkeys and clothes drying on the wall.

It is a real eye opener. You cannot get away from it here, as in the US where you would never find a favela next to the mall or next to Portland City Grill… sure there are homeless, but I´m talking about whole little neighborhoods made up of brick and cardboard. It´s hard to take in.

If you have any travel stories..memorable trips, relaxing holidays that you needed, or a life changing event happen while you were gone..please e-mail me! eatingjourney@gmail.com

Where ALL the MAGIC happens

I think that I might become obessed with Timor. I have to say though that it’s been such an amazing experience reliving the stories with people who don’t know how to respond and processing everything that I have talked about. If you need to get caught up on everything check out A Life Changer–Timor.

During my time up at Bakhita Centre I got to spend lots of time in the Clinic–Where ALL the MAGIC happens!

This is the front of the clinic. There are many times when there’s huge waiting lines of people..mainly on Monday mornings. Honestly people would walk 2-3 hours to come to the clinic. There was a little boy who had fallen into a fire and burned his hand, arm, side, and leg. His mother walked 2 1/2 hours each way…every other day…to bring him to the clinic to get treatment. The alternative is a costly (and unlikely) trip to the hospital or traditional medicine. TM was crushed up leaves placed over the burns.

This is the main reception area.

The records

This is the ‘input data’ computer. Anders, cause he’s a tech nerd/computer geek, created a program/database. It’s pretty cool because they can track patient demographics, different types of treaments, etc. It’s great information to have for this area.

This is the Emergancy Room. This is where I got my wound cleaned.

This is Betty. She loves rubbing alcohol into wounds. She’s been to America to learn English and most of her skills have been self-taught or intermittently trained through visiting people. To get her to Indonesia for nursing school is a little BIG goal of mine!

Much of the supplies that are at Bakhita are from Australia.

This is the ‘maternity ward’. Most babies aren’t born at the clinic, instead women opt to have their babies at home. However, if need be there is a birthing facility. Addtionally, the trained mid-wife, Adhi, lives right next door to the clinic. She travels to deliver babies and check up on women.

This is basically a ‘when’s the mother due’ calendar. Each pocket is a different month and each strip is a different mother. Clever!

These are also clever and very easy to use. There is a measuring ’stick’ for babies and expectant mother’s upper arms. They measure, based upon a scale of age the health of the baby.

The pharmacy.

The dental services at Bakhita are looking to be pretty secure for the next yearish. Donna is going to be doing dental work there. It’s great because she is trying to get all of the local school children to the dentist. Many of them need teeth/tooth extractions. Most Timorese have gorgeous teeth honestly. Further, Donna is training the staff with dental assitant knowledge.

This is the ambulance that Bakhita was granted through the Japanese Government.

The Guard Dog: Shiver

Tales from Peru

I have decided that writing about people’s travel experiences is something that I’d like to focus on. I don’t know if it’s going to be a regular weekly thing, however for the month of July I am going to be writing a little more about Timor and asking YOU..YES YOU…to send me your travel stories! If you have any please write about why the trip was so significant for you and include pictures. It could just have been a relaxing trip, or it could have been life changing. I don’t care. Just share your story. e-mail me @ eatingjourney@gmail.com

Tales From Peru By Jacinta McKinlay

I`m in Arequipa, Southern Peru.  I`ll be here for a while as I`m volunteering at an orphanage. Arequipa is a beautiful city surrounded by volcanoes and the deepest canyon in the world is not too far away, so I`m gearing up for a great trip out there.

As for the adventures leading up to here in chronological order…

We explored our way down the coast of Peru, enjoying the Inca ruins and lots and lots and lots of sand… oh yes there was a lot of desert.  We visited the sites around Trujillo including the amazing Chan Chan fortress, which is from pre Inca.

In Lima we lived and worked with the Beautitude community for a while.  I loved it, they were so welcoming and loving.  I arrived there after a hectic 10 hr bus trip during which I was feeling a sick and it was so wonderful because I was surrounded by all these nuns and home cooked food, ahh felt like a home for a little while.  I had some funny conversations while there because most of them only speak Spanish.

I checked out the Nazca lines from the air… very cool.  They are these mysterious lines that form pictures across the desert and can only be properly appreciated from the air. Everyone has a different theory about them including alien communication, fertility cult rituals, astronomical calendars etc.  I reckon they are most likely part of the rituals and sacred worship of the ancient people from the area.  They really were one of the most incredibly strange things I have ever seen and the plane ride was one of the most scariest I`ve ever taken as the pilot dips the plane severely on both side so everyone gets to look at the formations on the ground. We also went out to the cemetery to check out the mummies… mmm I have some very scary pictures on my camera from that trip.

The Inca Trail and Machu Pichu were simply incredible!!  Machu Pichu, the ´lost´Inca City is hailed the most spectacular archaeological site on the continent, it has a mysterious past and is located in a stunning area.  The craftmenship is unbelievable.  The Inca Trail is in my opinion the only real way to get to Machu Pichu.  It`s a 4 day hike alone the ancient trail laid by the Incas that winds its way up, down and around the mountains, snaking over three high passes, the highest being Dead Women`s Pass 4200m (I didn`t see any dead women but I kinda felt like one). The views were stupendous and the whole experience was magical, challenging at time but totally unforgettable for me, I think it was some of the best scenery I have ever seen.  The group Helene and I went with turned out to be a great bunch of people too.  Loved it!

Casa Hogar Luz Alba (means house home) cares for 20 children aged 0-12. It is run by a charity and has five full time local Peruvian volunteers who are simply angels in my opinion.  They are very loving and progressive in their care for the children`s mental, emotional, spiritual and physical wellbeing.  Each and every child there has experienced moral or material abandonment.  They have been orphaned or removed from their biological parents because they are judged at social or physical risk.  Quite a few children`s parents were prostitutes, alcoholics, drug addicts or theives.

Deago`s story. Deago was the name given to him by the Tias (aunties) when he arrived at the orphanage last month.  They don`t know his age but he`s probably about 6 months old.  He was thrown in the arms of a tourist in the main square.  The women handing him over said she was just going to the bathroom. She was never seen again.  Deago has the most gorgeous big smile that takes up all of his face.  If I put him in the cot with one of the others he tries to tackle them.  His story may seem a little sad but I trust that he will grow up knowing that he is loved and will have a lot to give the world.

The orphanage cares for 20 children, all their stories are different but mostly pretty sad.  It`s hard work but I`m enjoying the challenge.  So far I`ve been mainly caring for the 4 babies, lots of poop and they all want cuddles at the same time.

I miss you Timor

I am struggling a bit to bring back my self-confidence and self knowledge that I had in Timor. The moment I stepped of the plane in Darwin all I wanted to do was eat shit.

It’s like it’s a drug for me in Australia.

Yesterday it was cookies.

Today it was ice cream, chocolate, carmels…whatever I could get myself onto. A WW pizza and diet coke (I threw it away after eating 1/2 of it…it tasted terrible)

• Why is it at work I want sugar?
• Why do I feel like I don’t deserve to be honest with my body’s signals of hunger?
• Why does binging seem like something that I deal with here and not in Timor?

I have it, I have my soul and ability to love and fuel my body…

I am not surpressing it.

But, I miss you Timor.

Insight through Timor’s food

A lot of people would ask me: “What are you going to be doing in Timor?”

I would respond: “Not too sure really. Just enjoy the experience. However, Anders did mention writing a cookbook. So, yeah probably being in a kitchen a lot”

I have to say that the food in Timor has a lot of salt and oil. HOWEVER, the way that they eat it so different from the way that we eat. Instead of minimal rice and tons of mains…they eat tons of rice (no oil and/or salt) and little mains (salt/oil).

Breakfast:

Morning coffee. Liquid Heaven

Boiled sweet potato.

Boiled Tapioca Root. When I first saw it I thought to myself ‘where’s the butter?’. However, after eating it..it doesn’t need butter. It’s honestly amazing on it’s own.

Paun–bread. Made at night, left to rise, then cooked over a campfire. Amazing!

Fried/salted sweet potatoes. Honestly, I could have eaten the whole plate. But didn’t. I loved them. They’re amazing.

Lunch/Dinner:

Eggplant w/ a cooked cabbage, hard boiled egg, and tuna salad

“Bok Choy” w/ mushrooms, sweet potato leaves and fried hard boiled eggs

Fried Tofu and Temphe in a tomato sauce–amazing!, the most amazing salad ever and fried veggies.

Beans slow cooked for hours w/ carrots, potatoes, green veggies…so tasty..not even going to lie about it.

Fried chicken…so tasty. I swear it’s all in the salt.

Ramen Noodle/2 Minute noodle dish

“Beefy” slow cooked beef w/ egg and amazingness. It was so good

Snacks:

These little small bananas that were sold by road side vendors was honestly the best thing ever. They tasted like they had been injected with honey. Man they were delicious!

Fried/salted bananas—delcious

It’s been interesting coming back. The first day back in Darwin I could feel myself slipping back into my old eating patterns, because everything that I had ‘missed’ was there for me. Then I went to bed with a sick belly and thought to myself..this is stupid.

Sunday was good.

Today at work I struggled. I really struggled. I binged on cookies. Then I thought to myself ‘you’re eating because you’re wanting to avoid work and stress’. I forgave myself. I get it know. I understand my body and am not giving into the crap that I used to get myself into. I am not putting energy into the old patterns that I had. It’s so easy to slip into them. It’s so easy to fall back into the emotional dependency of food/crappy relationships that have once consumed my life.

Nope…not going to do it.

“It’s okay to get down once in awhile–as long as you don’t get down on yourself!”

‘I don’t want to go home”…

I am back in Australia….with my head spinning.

It think that it’s important to note that it’s such an interesting experience going from the mountains of Timor one morning to a full fledged modern mall in the afternoon. I felt out of place. Like I didn’t really know exactly where I needed to be, or what I should be doing. This is me sitting at the Pier in Darwin drinking a ‘Pure Blonde’…I guess there’s no better way than to adjust with what you are

Should I be riding a 100cc scooter up the mountain back to Bakhita -or- calling my mom on my mobile?

It was all very confusing and a bit annoying really, because so much of my heart and soul didn’t want to be in the modern, efficient, glossed over world. It wanted to be in the dirt, running up the stairs, pumping oxygen into babies faces, drinking coffee, embracing who I have become.

So my last day in Timor?

I drank six cups of coffee. I think that my stomach lining was slowly eroding, but that’s ok. I mean…honestly when can you get such amazing coffee? Yeah, that’s right freshly roasted from Timor.

I went down to the clinic and got some coffee from Mana Betty. After lunch, I had to sit down down on this stupid chair in front of everyone.

I mean…I hate sitting down in front of a whole bunch of people. It makes me want to cry. I can’t really handle people telling me how much they’ve appreciated me, etc. I mean, it’s nice to hear..who am I kidding. But seriously I would always say to my mom ‘Mom, you’re not allowed to cry’…because she always cries. Yeah, I get it now.

I sit on this chair, the one which has been the recipient of many stories, laughs, discussions, people who have been at Bakhita for a stint of time. To endure the endless hospitality of the Timorese People and the Bakhita Staff.

Jamie, the Coordinator (Sorry Anders if he has a different title) and Anders stand up about 20 feet away from me. Jaime begins to speak Tetun and it takes about every single ounce of me to not start crying. I mean seriously, I have been here…for my own mission. Reaping so much more from this experience then I could have ever imagined. So much more then I could ever possibly give back. I mean, I tried to fry peanut butter cookies..which didn’t really work. But in all honesty I wanted to run far away, because there was part of me that felt guilty for not being able to give them something, something as great as them sharing their lives with me.

“I just want to say sorry for not having something special for you when you got here. We try to have something special for people when they arrive. So please accept our apologies” states Jaime as per translated by Anders.

My lip was quivering ‘Michelle, don’t cry. Michelle, don’t cry’ I kept saying to myself.

“Thank you for coming to Bakhita Centre. We hope that you’ve enjoyed your time. We would like to present you with this Tais as a small sign of appreciation and hospitality” Jaime says.

“Obrigadu” is what I could muster up without losing it. The cry was in the back of my throat with the realisation that it was the end. No more pretending that tomorrow wasn’t going to come. It was here..smack dab in my face.

“We also know that you love the coffee, so here’s some coffee from us at Bakhita” Jaime says

(This is Bakhita’s and Mana Betty’s)

Then there was silence. 10 people staring at me. The Tais around my neck, the coffee in my hands with the scent intoxicating me as the tears poured.

I opened my mouth. Nothing, just a mini-meltdown.

“Dang it! You got me to cry” I stamped out. Looking straight at Anders as a translator, perhaps an attempt to gain composure, to try and give them the honest opinion of my time. To try and convey with words the richness and depth of my experience without looking like a crazy.

“I want to say thank you to everyone. Thank you for everything. This has been the best experience of my life. I will be back” I squeeze out through the tears.

Anders translates. I keep crying.

I gather myself together..mentally…and barrel down the mountain..one last time on the scooter. Anders..thanks for not killing me. You didn’t even crash into anything…or bump….

Vaughn, Donna, Anders and I went out for dinner at Victorias. It was awesome. You actually went to the back to pick out the freshly caught fish that you want to eat. We had a fantastic time.

Then we headed over to the Dili Beach Hotel. It was as if I was in Perth. Everyone was pretty much Malae (Ma-Lie) or foreigners. It totally did my head in. It was so weird to see Wimbledon on TV, to hear vomiting in the sink, to see people get into a fight. I wanted to go back to Bakhita. I wanted to run back..scoot back…mini-bus back… I was so uncomfortable. It’s just not my scene in Timor or outside of Timor. Just not my thing.

We all got into the back of a taxi. Donna was on my lap. Great memories.

“Anders, I don’t want to go home!” I said sadly
“Then don’t!” he said back

Is it really that simple? Is life that simple to just say…nope not doing it any more. Are we so consumed with that ‘What If’s’ or the Obligations/Guilt/Difficulty that we stay complacent?

That night I dreamt of Bakhita, wake up sad because I realised that in the morning I wouldn’t be able to see the cute dogs, inhale fire smoke in the kitchen, practice my tetun, etc. I got on the plane and had to go to the bathroom and have a bit of a cry.

I am so intensely happy it’s overwhelming. So intensely at peace with who I am. I am learning more about the strength of who I am, what I want, where I want to be, what I need from the world and what I want to give back.

I have to admit that when I got back to my little studio flat it felt nice to be back ‘home’. However, the endless search for the capacity to give back and feel fulfilled is what I am in search for. I am so happy that I have 3kg of coffee and the Tais on my couch as a constant reminder of the place that allowed me to find myself again.

Mom….

In the huge super mall in Darwin Australia. Living on three hours of crappy sleep with tired eyes and a hungry stomach

“Mom, I just wanted to call and tell you that I am happy and healthy and home from Timor” I say excitedly with a tinge of somber quality due to the fact that it reminds me of the amazing time I have left behind

“Michelle, that is awesome!” my mom repeats excitedly

“I just wanted to call you and tell you that I have my spirit back. I have my faith in myself back, my strength back. I had the most amazing experience of my life. I wouldn’t change it for anything. I have never experience something so amazing in my whole life. I am as high as a kite, glowing. I feel like I need to move home and become a nurse. To travel the world, but base myself in Oregon.”

“Michelle, I am so happy to hear you saying that!” I could hear her say through a smile I knew that she had one her face. “It’s so nice to hear you so happy, and back to where I know that you are as a person. Letting go of the pressure and negative things that you and other people were saying about you. As far as nursing school, let’s talk about it later. But you have to do what makes you happy”

“Mom, I am so happy. I think that nursing school would enable me to give back to the world in ways that I can’t give back right now. I realised that the family of Bakhita have shown me the importance of being around me family and feeling that love and support. I just don’t have that in Fremantle” I say objectively

“I love you” she says back

Big decisions. Nursing school and leave in six weeks or start in January in Australia. Decisions. Decisions.

A Woman’s Best Friend

Today is my last day here at Bakhita. I honestly can’t believe it. I went down to the clinic today to get my wound washed with alcohol…let me tell you it isn’t fun. Mana (Sister) Betty gave me about 1 kg of fresh organic roast Timorese Coffee. Anders said ‘this stuff at Oxfam is 18.50 for 250g’. I feel very lucky. It smells amazing.

I feel like I need to spend a bit of time talking about one of my most favourite parts of this whole trip—the dogs.

There’s Shiver

 

There’s Benji

 

There’s Toby

They say dogs are a ‘man’s best friend’. I beg to differ. There’s nothing like drinking coffee with an amazing dog.