My Phavorite Fotos

It's hard to believe a week ago I was in a tank top and feeling sweaty. 

I'm back in Tulsa now and settling in getting ready to start my new job as a social worker. 

Years of dreaming, and 6 years of schooling has now led to my big dreams becoming reality. 

It's snowy and cold in Tulsa. I find myself missing the warm sun I left behind in Burma. But I am ready to get life started here. 

Before I fully move on, I want to share with you, my dear reader, my phavorite fotos from my trip (see what I just did? Tee hee). 

I'm proud to say, all these were taken with my iPhone 5 with zero editing. 

Ok so I lied. There was ONE edited. 

Not a great picture but I love the story behind it. This was the time I ate Chinese food in China: 

Tiny love

Our second day in the village was spent wandering around the mountains, going to visit different relatives homes. 

Most of the people had never seen a white person before, except for on television. They spoke of how they always wondered what white skin felt like. Everyone wanted turns holding and squeezing my hands and arms.  

One TINY woman took particular interest in me, and hardly left my side the entire time I was in the village. Ni Mong was Dawns aunt. 

Her parents died when she was young and she grew up in an orphanage. She clung to me and said that there had been a male white missionary in the orphanage who loved her like a daughter and was the closest thing she ever had to a father, and she said I reminded her so much of him and therefore she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible. 

Treacherous Trails Totally Worth it

Our venture out of Bagan began with a bus ride where we were handed 2 barf bags and offered a sleeping pill. The next 2 days we would travel in a very cramped van through the worst roads in the nation. 

I at some points was cursing Dawn for ever bringing me to this nation, but soon the ride got interestingly beautiful. 

We crossed the Manipo River and it took our breath away. 

Our next stop was the village. Beautiful land with beautiful people filled with love. That will be another entry. 

The Village

I'm Deep in the mountains, in a place which I cannot pronounce nor can I spell, was the village. 

It was the village where Dawns father grew up. The family she has not seen since she was 5. 

Coming in to the village was quite the homecoming experience. Greeted at the entrance of the village was a parade of motorcycles. They honk and flashed their headlights in cheering as we approached. In line, they led us to the house where we would stay. 

As we got out of the vehicle, we were greeted with dinner, drinks, singing, and prayers.