This is prompt #4 of the Instagram (@AmidreamEU) writing prompt #virtualcampfire2021, ignited by Christina Kapaun@southboundstories and Annyka Overton @chameleoncoaching as a series of writing prompts for ex-pats to share over the course of November.
In short, I miss my mother’s cookies (and my mother).
Her cookies are perfection, plain and simple.
These cookies are legendary. Back in the day, she would sell them two for an American dollar to help fund her charity bike rides, and she constantly sold out. People were addicted, they couldn’t get enough.
Her secret? She says she just follows the recipe in the Fanny Farmer Cookbook. (I do too, but mine is never as good as hers.)
The last time I went home I asked her for a ziplock bag full of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies to take back with me. At first, she refused because they’d turn to crumbs before I would even get on the plane. (If they lasted that long.) I told her I absolutely didn’t care.
So, she filled up a bag for me. En route my husband tried to eat a few so I put a stop to that real quick!
Explanation of the last image: The trip home where my mother probably gave me the bag of cookies-turned-delicious-crumbs. I had made a series of funny, yet horribly unattractive faces – this was the best one of the lot at the time.
Over to You
Let me know in the comments:
What is your favorite food?
Why is that your favorite and when was the last time you had it?
I am currently behind on these prompts mainly because I want to post something honest.
These posts are part of the Instagram (@AmidreamEU) writing prompt #virtualcampfire2021, ignited by Christina Kapaun@southboundstories and Annyka Overton @chameleoncoaching as a series of writing prompts for ex-pats to share over the course of November.
We’ve been living this grand experiment for so many years that what is normal would probably be unthinkable to the old me. I often can’t believe this is the life I get to live and raise my child in. I often feel like pinching myself, like I might finally wake myself up if I do it just hard enough.
But it isn’t a dream.
And this dream isn’t perfect, by any means.
It is still amazing though.
When I was a child being tormented by my older sister. I would dream of living far away from her, in NYC, and being so successful that her bullying was a distant memory of a life before. Fast forward to now, I have lived in NYC, I have lived in London, I have worked all over the world and traveled through a bit of it. I also know now that it takes more than physically leaving to grow beyond the past.
So, here I have settled with my family in this little corner of Germany that is just big enough, but also close enough to everything and everywhere else in Europe that is bigger and occasionally more exciting. This place feels safe and comfortable, enough that we give my son a sort of freedom and independence my parents didn’t give me until I was a wee bit older.
I still have yet to master the language to the degree that I would like, but I practice it daily. My dentist and doctor speak to me in German first even though when I communicate in return it is often at a lower level than my elementary-aged child.
I use translation websites daily.
I began my website almost a decade ago in an attempt to figure out what my normal was then and now amidst a global pandemic I am still working it out although I feel I have come a long way in understanding.
Next, my normal was about preparing for motherhood and what that meant living far from our own parents. I am thankful for the friends whom I met around this time who helped me remain grounded through the third trimester, the birth, and postpartum depression (that I really only recognized after the fact).
I physically felt like simply a vessel of nutrients for my new baby while my brain felt overloaded which made me feel disconnected from myself, discombobulated in general, and simply unlike myself. I didn’t feel human, I didn’t feel like a woman. I didn’t feel like me.
I am so thankful that I happened upon a private Facebook group of international ladies shortly after my son was born. These ladies were better than any book, website, or self-help anything that I could have come across to help me feel normal. This community has only grown since then, and the friendships have only become deeper.
Post-birth, I have understood that creating a community of positive, supportive friends and chosen family when our blood family is so far away is worth the effort of cultivation and nurturing. This has only deepened during the pandemic.
In late December 2020, I woke up one morning thinking about how we would celebrate New Year’s Eve as a family, how we would reflect on the year before, and how in the world would plan for the year ahead since all the old familiar ways were out the window. At the time, as it is most days, I need to create a happy and positive environment for my child to thrive in – even if I don’t feel like personally thriving or the outside environment is in utter chaos. How else am I going to help teach my child to look for the good, especially if all the external sources (mass media) keep telling us the world is going to hell in a handbasket?!
My sister once commented to me that I was “running away”. “From what?!” Was my response. This was long after I had settled with my husband in our little corner of Germany and child was very well a part of our life here. I didn’t and still don’t feel like I am running from anything, but maybe I wasn’t really running toward much of anything either.
I realized I didn’t want this pandemic to end with the world going back to normal without long-unrealized goals I had within myself remaining dormant. I started yet another blog and Instagram account (which I still have to close) dedicated to health and wellness and signed up for Intercultural communication train-the-trainer training. I was exercising every day either at the gym or at home, whatever the pandemic would allow. I attempt to meditate daily, but don’t beat myself up if I don’t. Finally, I write whenever I can. Some of it I publish to the world, some of it I use simply for self-reflection.
I also started another venture with my girlfriend, MC Culture Consult (@MC_Culture_Consult) because I had a feeling she was kinda in the same weird boat as me knowing there was more to all of this life and living abroad than what we had simply been doing. Plus, the two of us get together and talk about everything under the sun and the moon together anyway, so why not record it and put it out there into the world.
But, what if we fail?!
Yeah, sure. I would rather try and fumble, or even try and fail rather than never having tried at all. I would rather be running with all my energy toward something, than not going anywhere at all.
This is prompt 2, from the #virtualcampfire2021 from Instagram (@AmidreamEU), begun by Christina Kapaun@southboundstories and Annyka Overton @chameleoncoaching as a series of writing prompts for ex-pats to share over the course of November.
🤔I had to sit on this question for a minute as the answer has evolved over time.
👨👩👧👧 In the beginning it *was* food, like my mother’s Chile Rellenos. Then, it was people & activities, like going to the hardware store with my dad, going anywhere to buy anything on a Sunday.
👯♀️Now, however, it’s the people. Breakfast with my parents, learning about victories, or overcoming defeats with my college girlfriends. Beers in a beautiful, huge chalice with my besties. Christmas Bingo with my family. Road trip weekends to the Oregon coast.
✈️It’s these long-distance relationships that are tricky. Some are lost over time, some are given their own separate life because of social media interpretations, & then a few are always there like the last chat was simply Tuesday, not 5 months ago.
🏡In the end isn’t it the people who either make or break a place anyway, really…then the food in that place?!
🌊The short answer is friends, family, and the Oregon Coast.
Over to You
What are the little things that really make up the big things in your life?
Over on Instagram (@AmidreamEU), Christina Kapaun@southboundstories and Annyka Overton @chameleoncoaching created a series of writing prompts (#virtualcampfire2021) for ex-pats to share over the course of November. I am a bit of a sucker for a community-minded activity and for writing prompts, so I decided to participate.
So, this is me. Hello!
👩🏻 My name is Christina. I am originally from the NW of the USA, Oregon all the way. I am the person behind the @amidreameu Instagram account.
👩🏻🏫 I’m an English teacher (EAP, business, & everyday English) and intercultural trainer. I generally like exploring and learning new things from & about people. I tell my students that I learn from them & enjoy it because I genuinely do. I see teaching & training as a collaborative experience.
🗺 Growing up my mother showed me that exploring locally could be a real gem. My first wider-world trip was across the country to NYC, where I clearly left part of my heart. Little did I know then that it would ignite a fire that would fuel me around the world. Since then, I’ve lived & studied in London, worked and traveled around Australia, & worked in South Korea.
🇩🇪 Somehow, I landed in my little corner of Germany, in Rheinland-Pfalz. What was supposed to be a year-long teaching exchange has turned into a years-long experiment that now involves a British-American husband and a TKC.
📚I’ve always been a storyteller, but I’ve not always told great stories. It seems many people want to have the rights to your story, when it’s not theirs to tell, especially when they only know a page or two, or even worse – someone else’s cliff-notes version. So, part of what I’m doing now is figuring out how to tell my story while also helping others to define & tell theirs.
An Easter egg tree, which we have seen more often over the years here.
I am not religious, but I married someone who is, having grown up catholic and I now live in a part of Germany that is traditionally very Christian. Most of the public holidays in Germany are based on religious beliefs. Some more than others, depending on the area or state.
Here I attempt to relate what I have learned about the Developmental Model of Intercultural Sensitivity, with each of its stages, to the current political (and social) events in the United States.
The ins and outs of how to linguistically reproduce the sounds of native speakers is beyond me. This is why I do not and probably will not ever teach phonetics.
I have been writing new content, but just as importantly, I have been going back through old posts and deleting dead links or images and attempting to clean up the content a bit without really changing the messages.
I have considered deleting some content as well, but this has been my baby and I have kept it all these years without posting much simply for that reason. It is my electronic baby.
livingtheamericandreamineurope.com 