#getting my nonexistent culinary skills in shape

[violet975]

Starting to do actual food and not just easily re-heatable stuff that I end up throwing out.

Posting as a sort of reminder and to feel good about myself :)

#cooking #homecooking #getting my nonexistent culinary skills in shape

[parab0mb]

Hey hey! I finally did it! I made a ref sheet for the Spice Trader, the main protagonist and shining star anise of my (still unnamed) food/cooking themed story. I've had this concept stuck on the brain recently and while I've posted art of some the characters here and there, I have a bad habit of keeping all the context and world-building stuff in my noggin, so I figured for once I'd actually put this stuff down on paper. And what better place to start than with the main character, right?

As for the Trader herself, as simplistic as her design is, there was just a few small snags with it that took me forever to get just right (mostly the shape of her head, hat, and nose) but I feel like I can consistently draw her from memory now and not have it look off, so yay! C:

Anyway I'll put all the detailed character stuff below; it's a bit long-winded and infodumpy, but if you actually read it all you're a real one!

Name: Millti, though everyone she meets either calls her Spice Trader or makes up a nickname for her.

Noteworthy Nicknames: MAsTER ChEf, Human Child Unit, Saffs, Shortcake, Oh Great Maiden of the Mill, Nuisance, Sprout, Valued Tourist, and so on.

Occupation: Traveling Merchant, Amateur Adventurer, and soon-to-be Professional Chef

Overconfidence: Abundant

Chef's Mustache: Nonexistent and Pitiful

~~~~ Story ~~~~

In a world where just about everything is food and cooking themed, chefs hold some of the highest prestige in the world, and the amount of food puns and wordplay is honestly appalling, the Spice Trader has found a niche for herself as.... well I mean it's in the name. With her trusty Mill Cannon in hand and faithful robotic Sous-Chef by her side, she travels around the world in her sailboat to discover, create, and trade spices and herbs to other cooking enthusiasts and even some big-name chefs!

Ever eager to make new friends who share her passion for bringing the joy of flavor to the world, it was only natural that the Spice Trader aspired to move up in the world and become a recognized chef herself. Of course, this optimism and admiration was quickly crushed after a particular prodigal chef outright demeaned the Spice Trader's talents and her gall to think they could ever be equals in their craft.

While distraught and dejected, the Spice Trader still aspires to prove herself as a true chef; however, it's no longer out of passion for the culinary arts or making friends, but rather she just wants to show up her ex-idols and rub her victory in their noses. And what better way to do it than to best them in the grandest cooking competition of all: the annual Palladium Chef Championship Cook-off.

After quite a few months (or maybe a year... or two, she kinda lost track) of tirelessly mixing, testing, and recording every conceivable spice blend she could possibly think of, the Spice Trader had created her magnum opus and ticket to becoming the next Palladium Chef: a catalog of every spice [EVER] and when to use them. With the help of her book taking home first prize would be a cinch...

... THAT IS OF COURSE IF HER SHIP WASN'T RANSACKED AND HER CATALOG TORN TO SHREDS BY A BUNCH OF HIRED ROBOT THUGS MERE MINUTES AFTER ADDING THE FINAL ENTRY!

*Ehem*

Turns out that somebody is going around and sabotaging the work of all the cooks competing on Palladium Chef, including the Spice Trader, who must now hastily scour the corners of the world in search of the missing pages carried away by the sea (thank goodness she laminated them), put her prize-winning catalog back together in time for the competition, and, should time allow, find and punch whoever the heck is behind the sabotage. Oh yeah, and she's only got like, five days. She's totally got this though. Totally.

~~~~ Skills and Abilities ~~~~

She's quite talented for her age; she knows how to sail a boat, her spice-selling business is doing well enough to keep her ship afloat (literally), and she's remarkably not dead for a child exploring the world mostly by herself.

She even has a bit of a knack for building stuff, namely her Mill Cannon and her robot assistant Sous-Chef (both of which are reliable...ish).

But most importantly, she's an expert in all things seasoning and flavor-related. She may not be the best chef in the world (yet) but there's never been a dish too bland or distasteful that she couldn't remedy with her wares.

Her trusty Mill Cannon is equal parts useful for exploration and for cooking, allowing her to "pepper" distasteful food and baddies alike with a hail of spice pellets. The hand-crank even extends into a little propeller, allowing her to safely glide away out of danger.

~~~~ Personality/Trivia ~~~~

She has a habit of constantly and unintentionally making spice related puns whenever she talks, which evidently gets old really quick and has caused her... trouble... in the past. She's currently attempting a vow of silence with the hopes that it'll help her get over this habit (it won't by the way).

In spite of the whole vow of silence thing, she's actually a very extroverted and friendly kid who loves getting to know new people on her travels (a shame most of the other Palladium Chef contestants would rather walk all over one another than get along).

Quite optimistic; even when the odds are against her she tends to focus on the positives and can still have fun in the moment (within reason of course, even she has her limits).

She can be a bit of an... elitist, when it comes to seasoning stuff, and has a pretty blatant bias against table salt (heaven forgive you should you season something with salt and nothing else right in front of her).

She smells of spice constantly, but the scent is seemingly different to each individual person.

She's pretty self-confident in her abilities (a bit smug in fact). While it does hurt to be dismissed by the chefs she looked up to, she has no doubt that she's totally going to wipe the floor with them.

As sweet and adorable as she is, she does have a bit of a temper and tends to get impatient easily (she is still a child, give her a break).

Throughout her journey, she becomes increasingly less trustworthy of others, since just about everyone she does try to team up with tries to betray her or exploit her good will.

As much as she loves traveling the world, a part of her is secretly very homesick. No one's actually sure why she hasn't visited her home or why she left in the first place really...

#artwork #myartwork #millti #spice trader #original character #oc #ref sheet #food #spice #cooking themed #currently unnamed food-themed universe

[quarterfromcanon]

#afewofmyfavoritethings

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 17 - Cold [2,838 words]

“Um... guys? You might wanna come take a look at this.” 

The cushion of the sofa dipped beside Heather when Valencia joined her at the window. Paula and Rebecca leaned over the armrests and pulled back the lace curtains. The group gazed through the frosted pane at the rolling hills that had transformed into a wintry world overnight. 

Rebecca squealed. “It’s even better than I expected! I know the weather called for snow but look at all that!” Her nose bumped the glass as she craned to take everything in, and she pulled away from the frigid contact. “Oh, it’s so much prettier when there aren’t cabs driving through it and city grime isn’t turning the drifts all gray and gross. The view from my mom’s house was okay, but nothing like this.” She sighed. “Well, ladies, I think you know what this means.”

“Photo sesh?” Valencia shifted to access the phone in the pocket of her space onesie.

“Snowman contest?” Paula rubbed her hands together. She grinned in the dangerous way that told them all they were toast before construction even began.

“Sledding?” Heather suggested. She dropped to a seated position and leaned against Valencia’s biceps.

“Okay, yes to all of that,” Rebecca pointed at each of them in acknowledgement. “But for the grand finale...,” she paused for dramatic effect and shimmied, “... snowball fight!”

“Oh boy,” Heather murmured. She watched the competitive gleam ignite behind the eyes of the other three women. “This is gonna be a bloodbath.” 

They broke off in separate directions. Paula wandered down the hall to wake Scott and Tommy; Rebecca went to the loft for the end of Nathaniel’s morning exercise routine, and Heather and Valencia headed back to their room to change clothes.

Scott cooked them all breakfast beforehand -- a task which, to be fair, was no small undertaking given conflicting dietary preferences. Paula sat perched on a stool nearby, ready to intervene in the event of a crisis. However, Scott made it through the endeavor with minimal profanity and only one fleeting incident involving his apron and an open flame. The end result was an admirable improvement over the quality of his culinary skills several years ago. Strategic seasoning masked any mildly crispy edges.

“He’s getting better,” Paula noted quietly to the girls. She crossed the floor and give him a peck on the cheek. “Good job, babe.”

Scott beamed.

Once everybody was fed, fully dressed in adequate layers, and equipped with tissues for runny noses, they trooped out of the rented cabin and into the frozen landscape. The photo session came first while the neatness of everyone’s ensemble remained intact. It was agreed that Nathaniel, Scott, and Tommy could be spared on-camera participation in exchange for behind-the-scenes help getting the perfect shots. This entailed holding back tree branches that cast unwanted shadows, standing side-by-side to block glaring sunlight, and tossing gloves full of flakes into the sky so the Gurl Group would appear to be caught in the middle of heavy snowfall. The edited results were approved by all parties featured, and Paula goaded their assistants into a single commemorative picture with their mitten thumbs raised and semi-forced cheerful faces.

Snow angels met with more unanimous enthusiasm. Rebecca and Heather stood beside one another, shared a glance and a nod, then dropped backward as if they were letting themselves fall into a pool. Scott and Tommy gave each other teasing kicks with their boots every time they slid their legs in a broad chevron. Paula observed the father-son bonding from a short distance away while she made her own outline of a spiritual being. Nathaniel’s and Valencia’s approach to the activity was significantly more tentative and involved a great deal more grimacing. Once they got settled, however, they began to embrace the fun. Nathaniel’s long limbs produced very impressive wings and a flowing skirt. Valencia’s angel gave the impression of a certain grace despite the fact that her main goal seemed to be brushing Heather’s gloves with her own on each upward stroke of her arms. 

They divided into teams for the snowman contest. An hour was the chosen allotment for their creations to take shape. Additional materials were both allowed and encouraged, which caused the subsequent flurry of activity to be particularly chaotic. Their shouts echoed over the treetops. Friends narrowly escaped collisions while running and stumbling over the soft ground. 

Rebecca and Nathaniel constructed a suitably scrawny Harry Potter. He was equipped with green M&M eyes, a red licorice lightning bolt scar, a broom from the kitchen pantry, and Rebecca’s scarlet and gold scarf. Surprising absolutely no one, building the beloved protagonist led to a steady stream of magic-related innuendo spoken in undertones, the extremity of which ultimately prompted Rebecca to cover the boy wizard’s nonexistent ears. “Oh my god, contain yourself. There’s a child present.”

Heather and Valencia rendered extra roly-poly versions of their cats, Shadow and Esperanza, with stick whiskers and playfully curled tails. Esperanza had her signature queenly bearing and expression, while Shadow’s gravel eyes were upturned in pure adoration. Heather tracked down a couple of decorative glue yarn balls and wedged them beneath their pets’ paws. 

Team Proctor reached football-game-at-a-bar levels of raucousness as they worked on their entry. The Peeps for Peace t-shirt Paula slept in the night before got tugged onto their snowman’s body. They balanced a few thin logs of firewood on its shoulder and secured a hammer from Scott’s toolbox in its hand. Tommy drew a lackadaisical smirk on the snowman’s face and styled straw for the hair. When their efforts were complete, a Snow Brendan stood before them, built to scale and adorned with a heroic blanket cape.

“I wanna cry foul for emotional manipulation,” Rebecca confided to Valencia afterward, “but it’s just, like, so cute I can’t even get mad.” Valencia begrudgingly inclined her head in agreement.

To her credit, Paula managed to blink back her tears and genuinely smile for the photo they saved to send real-life Brendan later, informing him of his role in the family’s success.

The prospect of voting on hills for sledding was too daunting, so the group settled for the first drop-off they found. The guys were extended the offer to go first, due to the limited number of sleds in their possession, and they gladly accepted the chance. Nathaniel shifted from one foot to the other and brought his palms together in a muffled clap. 

“This is a race, right? There’ll be a winner?” 

Heather thumped her hand against his jacket with an indulgent shrug. “Sure, bud.” 

Nathaniel pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!” 

Scott and Tommy exchanged looks. Paula, Rebecca, Valencia, and Heather all clung to each other for support and made their way down the slope to help verify who reached the bottom first. 

“Good luck, honey!” Paula called. 

“Channel that Slytherin energy!” Rebecca paced like a coach. 

Heather nudged Valencia’s arm and angled her head. Valencia’s brow furrowed but then, following the line of sight, she got the hint.

“C’mon, Tommy!” she whooped. 

“Yeah, Tommy, you’ve got this!” Heather chimed in with her fist held high. Tommy’s chest puffed out and he readjusted his grip on the plastic toboggan.

Paula grabbed a fallen branch and dragged it through the snow to delineate the end of the path. The four judges shouted the starting cue in unison -- almost. “On your mark, get set, go!”

Scott’s style of descent was traditional but effective. Tommy barreled down the hillside on his stomach. Nathaniel’s technique reminded Heather of the luge participants from the Winter Olympics, unwavering serious features and all. Tommy and Nathaniel were neck and neck for at least three-fourths of the race but, in the home stretch, Tommy’s lean frame made him just enough faster to cross the finish line mere seconds before Nathaniel did so. 

Nathaniel was clearly frustrated by the loss but, the minute he saw Tommy’s broad grin, the irritability visible in his brow and jaw smoothed into nonexistence. He lifted his chin and approached his competitor for a congratulatory shake. “Well done, Proctor. Excellent form.”

Tommy’s eyebrows quirked at the odd formality. He clasped Nathaniel’s hand and brought him in for a couple of genial slaps on the arm. “Thanks, man.”

The girls reluctantly ascended to the crest of the rise for their turns -- an arduous journey with an entire chorus of grumbling and winded breathing. The uppermost layer of snow caved beneath Valencia’s boot and she yelped, but Heather caught her elbow and prevented the fall. 

“My hero.” Valencia secured her forearm over Heather’s to prevent a second slip.

“Full disclosure, I would’ve laughed my ass off if you slid back down the entire hill when we were this close to the top, but I also knew you’d be really pissed, so...” 

“You’re not wrong.”

Heather chuckled and hip-checked Valencia, but not hard enough to throw off their matching stride.

They arrived at their destination with a collective relieved exhale. Paula and Heather set up their respective sleds. Rebecca clambered behind Paula and held onto her shoulder blades. “Take us home, Mama!” 

Heather fronted the second toboggan while Valencia surrounded her in a tangle of limbs. “We’ve got this in the bag,” Valencia declared with confidence. 

“I mean, totally, but what makes you so sure?” Heather asked.

“Because, if you get us there first, I’ll --” Valencia noticed Paula’s and Rebecca’s attention on her. She cupped Heather’s ear and whispered the rest of her incentive for so long that Paula pretended to check an invisible watch. 

Heather’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her beanie. “Well, shit.”

“Ah, damn it,” Paula lamented.

“She promised her NC-17 stuff,” Rebecca seconded with a pout. “Now we’re really gonna have to pull out all the stops to beat them.”

Though it was not for lack of trying -- including an unsportsmanlike sideswipe midway down the incline (“Craterface ’em, Paula! It’s our only hope!”) -- they reached the bottom of the hill a heartbeat after Heather’s triumphant first place achievement. Valencia covered the side of Heather’s face in a barrage of kisses.

“Yeah, all right.” Paula fished out her camera. “Get over here so we can take a picture of our three winners, ya horny monsters.”

Valencia and Heather posed on either side of Tommy for the photo. Heather affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair and the pink in Tommy’s cheeks deepened to a bright red.

The only event that remained was the snowball fight, and its onset sparked an immediate change in atmosphere. Much like Heather predicted, no one showed any signs of restraint over their hunger for victory. They crafted forts in near silence, already coiled for the siege. Direct hits qualified as ‘out’ while a graze with a snowball meant a one minute pause behind the player’s designated barrier. Teams were the same as the divide during the building contest.

Tension rose while everyone hunkered down and waited for the first throw. 

“We probably should’ve figured this part out before --” Heather remarked, but her words were drowned out by Rebecca’s battle cry.

“UNLEASH HELL!”

Heather crouched low. “Here we go...”

The cloudless sky was blurred by a torrent of tightly packed spheres. 

“Trebuchet!” Tommy boomed.

Heather’s and Valencia’s fortress stood firm but the sound of multiple piffs of impact reached their ears even over all the yelling.

Things went eerily quiet after that. Heather peered over the wall. “The Proctors are entering No Man’s Land.”

Valencia peeked around the side. “Rebecca’s walking out to meet them. Nathaniel’s spotting her.”

What followed was a rather comedic standoff in which Rebecca lost her nerve after meeting Paula’s determined gaze and took off screaming. She zigzagged as per Nathaniel’s frantic advice and barely evaded being struck at least half a dozen times. Nathaniel’s tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth and he wiped out Tommy with a snowball square in the middle of his back. Tommy swore colorfully but accepted his fate. 

Seeing an opportunity as the chase neared their station, Heather aimed a round of icy ammo at Scott’s chest and made a hit. 

Rebecca’s panic became a single, loud “AAAAAAAAAH” before she lobbed a ball over her shoulder without warning and somehow pelted her best friend in the face. 

Paula’s vocabulary surpassed even Tommy’s creativity - like mother, like son. Rebecca apologized profusely and supplied her scarf for a towel. When Paula wiped the snow away, she cast a glance around and realized which players remained. “Ohoho, it almost makes it worth it just to watch this,” she cackled darkly.

“Bring it on, Plimpton.” Valencia tensed with a murderous scowl. Nathaniel rose to his feet.

Their other opponent veered toward the encampment, and Heather planted herself between Rebecca and Valencia.

“You and me, Davis,” Rebecca challenged. “Moi et toi. I’m unstoppable now!” 

Heather darted forward without hesitation. Rebecca had to swerve to avoid the attack. Valencia hurled a snowball with all her might and then ran full-tilt in search of a better location to strategize. 

Rebecca and Heather wound up traversing uneven soil and tripped simultaneously. From that point on, they were both too busy giggling to pursue each other in earnest. They faked left and right and jogged in circles. When they found themselves face-to-face again, they reached the unspoken decision that enough was enough. Heather separated her snowball into two, one for each hand, and Rebecca held her arm at the ready. Rebecca’s fingers whacked against Heather’s side while Heather sandwiched Rebecca’s face between both palms. They erupted in uncontrollable laughter and hugged.

“Oh, come on!” Paula groused from her seat on the cabin steps. “Where’s the carnage?”

Scott tapped her knee and pointed to the far side of the clearing. “I think that might be coming up.”

Valencia wove through a copse of trees. She held her coat in a cup formation stuffed with snowballs that were perilously close to leaving the makeshift pouch. Her arm windmilled every so often with remarkable force, leaving her tracker to dodge the sudden breeze past his ears. Nathaniel paced himself with an armload of ready-made orbs condensed for swift delivery. Those he let loose tumbled to the earth or broke against bark on the trunks. Nothing found its mark.

“Make a stand and take your shot, V!” Heather projected the command to carry across the distance between them. 

“Yeah, avenge your lady!” Tommy added from the porch railing.

The adversaries returned to the middle of the playing space and paused to catch their breath. 

“Yoga and spinning are non-confrontational,” Valencia panted. “This is seriously not my area of expertise.”

“Follow your gut,” Paula recommended, although her tone and premature wince indicated that she was not optimistic about the outcome.

Nathaniel wound back his arm. Valencia did as her friend told her and took action on instinct. She launched herself at an angle, shoes-first, to glide past Nathaniel’s feet. He adjusted the throw and caught her on the clavicle. Her snowball flew back at a curve and nailed the small of his spine.

The assembled companions reacted as one with exclamations and applause. Nathaniel held out a hand for Valencia. She stood without assistance and shook the outstretched palm. 

“Good game?” Nathaniel said cautiously.

Valencia bared her teeth in a terrifying smile. “Prepárate, gigante. Próxima vez, peleamos en mis términos.”

Nathaniel gave a respectful nod. “Comprendo.”

They returned to the warmth of the cabin, exhausted but happy. Rebecca helped Nathaniel remove his silver and green scarf and they commandeered the coziest couch in front of the fireplace. Paula went in search of extra towels and blankets while her husband and son retreated to the bathroom to drape their wet winter gear over the tub. Heather and Valencia walked to their bedroom and the waiting comfy clothes in their luggage.

“Oh my God, my thighs are like a fire engine,” Valencia announced as she sat on the bed. Heather knelt and rubbed the numb skin until the friction started to drive the discoloration away. She received thanks in the form of a grateful nuzzle before Valencia crossed the room to find the fluffiest pajamas available.

While Heather tugged on a sweater and sweatpants, Valencia rolled up an already used pair of leggings and crammed them against the crack below the door.

“What are you up to over there?” Heather inquired without facing her.

“Soundproofing.” Valencia twisted the lock with a click.

Heather climbed into bed and turned down the other side to make space for Valencia. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Mm, I figured the others might appreciate it.”

“I’m sure they do.”

Valencia wriggled under the comforter and pulled Heather toward her. “We’ve got at least an hour before dinner’s ready.”

Heather inched Valencia’s shirt collar aside gradually and trailed kisses all the way to her shoulder. “Are you sure that’ll be enough time?” 

“Maybe.” Valencia maneuvered by degrees until Heather was horizontal against the mattress. She tugged Heather’s earlobe with her teeth and wrapped one leg around her waist. “If we start right now.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #Me? Jumping at the chance for a season-centric fluff fest? Pfft -- Yes. Yes every single time. #Admittedly this installment is more large group-focused and Helencia-lite until close to the end but *shrug* #I was enjoying tagging along for the fun too much to resist. :P

[studylifeusa]

From Finland to the Flagship

OXFORD, Miss. – When Lance Herrington was in high school in 1986, his family hosted a visitor from a faraway land who would shape his life forever.

Pirjo Tupamäki had come as an exchange student from Jyväskylä, in the Lakeland region of Finland, to Herrington’s small hometown of Belton, Texas, a bedroom community between Austin and Waco. Pirjo became like a sister to Herrington, who is now an instructor and coordinator of instructional support in the University of Mississippi‘s Intensive English Program.

Years later, Herrington is still struck by the spirit of his friend, Pirjo, and the experience of having her live with his family in the 1980s.

“I was very fortunate,” Herrington said. “It was not just a great experience for me individually, but for Pirjo to live with us was a great experience for my entire family and for our entire community.”

Thoughts of a friendship formed long ago have cropped up recently for Herrington, and for good reason. This fall, Pirjo’s daughter, Teresa, boarded a plane and made the long journey from Helsinki to Oxford to study at UM, and live with Herrington.

The 19-year-old, who Pirjo named after her hero Mother Teresa of Calcutta, is finding her way around Oxford these days.

Herrington’s parents had struggled to communicate with Pirjo. Lance Herrington found himself working as a translator of sorts, which sparked his curiosity about teaching. Though he wasn’t conscious of it at the time, this steered him on the career path that eventually led him to teach.

“I could understand or intuit enough to know you couldn’t use idioms with her,” Herrington remembered. “I would know that what they use in English 101 textbooks is not going to be what is sometimes spoken in Texas or Mississippi. I guess maybe I’ve had an instinct for it in high school.”

He remembers fondly Pirjo’s love for the band Dire Straits, and she played their music on cassettes in her bedroom, where she would dance and sing along. She loved music festivals and also animals, including the Herringtons’ Spitz, who slept in her room every night.

“Pirjo was one of the kindest and most genuine people I’ve ever met,” Herrington said. “She was a gentle soul who lived life without pretense. As a teenager, she was positive and fun, and enjoyed life to the fullest.”

Pirjo Tupamäki

After she left the Herringtons’ home in Texas to return to Finland, the two stayed in communication. Sadly, Pirjo, who went on to become a social worker, died two years ago during her second battle with cancer.

Her daughter enrolled in the Intensive English Program program at Ole Miss thanks to the connection to Herrington.

The Intensive English Program offers a wide variety of instruction and support for students studying English as a second language. The IEP offers credit-bearing courses for students interested in improving their language skills for a short time or to move into one of the university’s degree programs.

The IEP also runs a Learning Center for international students who need additional help in any English language skill.

The Community English as a Second Language program, offered by the IEP, allows graduate students to get teaching experience while helping people new to the United States get a better handle on the language, and also how to handle new cultural situations they may encounter. The Community ESL program is free and open to adult relatives of faculty, staff and students.

Teresa, who experiences a form of dyslexia, is learning and is immersed in the environment of her new language through the ESL work. In Finland, English is commonly taught, and she made the minimum to pass but wants to hone her skills.

She has good command of the language, but with any foreign language, the writing and grammar part is trickier. She almost made an A on her English in Finland, but the only problem is there, an A is the lowest grade.

“In Finland, people are so good at English, but I am one of the ‘worst-est’,” she joked.

Teresa is thrilled to have an experience similar to what her mother had when she was about her age – coming to the American South as a teenager to study and soak up the culture.

“I think it is so cool to have the experience my mother had in coming to America,” Teresa said. “I won’t have exactly the same experience, but I’m so glad I had the chance to come here.”

But the new experiences aren’t all for Teresa; Herrington is having plenty of his own, including figuring out how to care for a teenager. For someone who doesn’t have children, that can be easier said than done.

One real benefit of hosting an international student is the months of relaxed conversation, which can lead to a greater understanding of each other’s cultures. Herrington is already seeing that, after having been around Teresa only a few weeks.

“The other night, she made reference to the Finnish Civil War,” Herrington said. “I’m an adult with a graduate-level education. I didn’t know. There was a Finnish Civil War? When was this? I thought when I went to bed (that) I was going to have to read about it.

“Still, there is so much I am learning that I didn’t know until Teresa and I had these kinds of conversations.”

He’s also helping her learn the language outside the classroom in everyday life. He believes she sells herself short, and he’s impressed with how she is handling the fish-out-of-water experience of being in a land where little to none of her native language is spoken.

“All of the students in our IEP program are all doing something I don’t think I could do in a similar situation,” Herrington said. “This all-English-speaking environment has really improved her confidence.”

It’s more than a classroom experience after all. It’s about becoming part of a new community. In Finland, Teresa was very active in Scouting, and here in Oxford, she has already connected with local Scouting groups such as UM’s Venturing Scholars and Boy Scout Troop 146.

She’s also been to Ya-Ya’s for frozen yogurt and out to eat in many of the town’s restaurants.

Food in America is different for her in several ways, she said. She’s never had to worry much about the nutritional values for food in Finland, but U.S. cuisine is much more decadent.

“When I’m in Walmart or Kroger, I always need to think about which one would be healthier because in Finland, everything is healthy; but here, I need to pay attention,” Teresa said.

She also believes American breads are too soft. She is used to hard rye breads in her homeland, but they are almost nonexistent here. She is learning to make her own breads though, to lessen some of the homesickness.

Herrington notes that food is one of the first items in a new land where culture shock happens. It makes sense. You need food to survive, so often you immediately hunt it.

For Herrington, he learned while in Japan that a lot of the pizza comes with corn on it. He never knew why, just accepted it as a reality of being in a different place with different culinary customs.

The two plan to travel to Belton during Thanksgiving break so Teresa can see where her mother learned all about America. Herrington’s parents still live in the same house, and they will see some of the same sites around town where her mother walked years ago, including her old high school, the classrooms and the gym where she practiced volleyball.

“I think it is so cool that I am going to exactly the same house,” Teresa said.

Teresa and Herrington’s experience shows the real effects of hosting international students, said Blair McElroy, the university’s senior international officer and director of Study Abroad.

“As we can see from Mr. Herrington’s experience, he has built lifelong international friendships and lasting memories through home stays,” McElroy said

Herrington said he would encourage anyone to host a foreign exchange student.

“It’s an amazing opportunity,” Herrington said. “I know other families in Oxford that have hosted international students that have had such positive experiences. Usually, people who do it want to do it again and again.

“My hope is that years after Teresa, her younger brother will come and do something similar here.”

By Michael Newsom, Originally posted on https://news.olemiss.edu/from-finland-to-fins-up/

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