Well, it looks like it is time to revive this blog. Got the call last Thursday afternoon....husband says we're going to Vienna as I was busy documenting at work. I said "oh that's nice" thinking he was talking about us going out locally in Vienna, VA. He then tells me, "Vienna, Austria, hun".
Now mind you, I always knew that moving was a possibility. But my husband only applied for the most coveted of spots: Vienna and Rome. There was one job for his discipline at each locale and multiple qualified applicants. When he drove me crazy this year (as he does every year) with the possible offerings for the following year, I gave my two cents along with my blessing and he applied, never imagining that he would actually get one of these spots. We were both fine if we had to stay put.
But, when he said those words that set my life into another trajectory, I can't even begin to explain the feelings that went through me: elation (at the thought of moving to a place I have wanted to live in before I even met my husband), sadness (at the thought of leaving a passion that I call a job and all the patients who have taught me so much over the last couple of years), and overwhelmed (by both the move before us, the practical loose ends that need tying as well as the opportunities abound) to name a few.
On a positive note, I have 15 months for my mind to catch up with reality. Last time around, our assignments got switched from Stockholm to Warsaw within months of moving and we had to do all the planning from FL which isn't helpful when all the people responsible for the different aspects of the move are located in Washington DC. This will be a much smoother move (so I hope).
My husband broke the news to my son before I had a chance to say stop. The boy needs much care in transitioning to yet another move as he is the sensitive type. However, we felt better when picking him up the following day from school. His after care providers shared that he was telling everyone about moving to Vienna. He has already requested a trip to the Lego World (a conference in Denmark for Lego fanatics) while we are there. Makes me feel better! We also looked up his potential school as well as Tae Kwon Do studios there and he was excited to see that his life will be somewhat normal with a German sound track.
The little one is about the same age as her brother was when we first moved overseas. She remembers some people from her toddler life, but I don't think she quite understands. I am not too worried about her though. Her personality will help her immensely. Plus, it makes the decision about kindergarten next year much easier - I'm paying for private K to keep her where she is at so she does not need to change schools twice in two years.
But before the adventures begin, lots of prep is required, beginning with gaining some functional knowledge of the German language. Auf Wiedersehen for now!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Saturday, April 25, 2009
"Boxes, Boxes, Everywhere...
...in the hall and on the stairs."
This is a line from a childrens' book I bought for Thing 1 when we first moved overseas. Thing 1 moved on to a more appropriate school age book and I used this one with Thing 2 who repeated this line over an over when the movers packed us up in Poland.
And today I sit here as the boxes are stacked up around me. I have realized a few things in the days since our household effects were delivered.
1) We have too much stuff. In addition to the boxes around me, we now have a garage filled from top to bottom, backwards and forwards with stuff.
2) We don't really need any of this stuff. When you are forced to live without your things for 4 months, you realize that you really can live with out it. I don't know if the same is true about my iPhone though. For the last 2 months after our corporate lease expired, we have all been sleeping on air mattresses on the floor. It is pretty humbling, but you begin to realize that you don't even "need" a bed. Although I am very pleased to have my bed (my select comfort adjustable bed that doesn't wake me when my husband moves) to sleep on. In a way, I appreciate my bed that much more.
3) As unnerving as it is to have all this clutter around me, I am pleasantly surprised at what deep breathing exercises and focusing on the bigger picture can do. Those of you who know me KNOW that I need to be in a fairly organized environment. Years of self analysis have made me understand that this stems from the loss of control I felt when I lost of my father. You can't control people, so I control my environment. So, if I find myself under great stress or distress, you can bet that my house, car, and office, are neat and organized. This is my neurosis. It is very hard to not have a panic attack when your form of coping has been hijacked. However, I have managed, and after sitting with these boxes for a few days and lots of breathing, er...hyperventilation), I am no longer bothered by them. They will be going away today if I have any say in it.
4) It is amazing how many memories are tied into these things we own. The few boxes I have opened brought back memories from our life in Warsaw and some things even have the scent of our old house. In one box, I even found Polish dust bunnies that would so annoy me back then - now they just made me smile. This is why people who live overseas end up with so much stuff in storage - the memories of those items can make it difficult to part with them.
Today is unpacking day. It is going to be 87 degrees here today and my mission is to find my summer clothing somewhere in this mess. In fact the only mission I have is to find my clothing, bathroom stuff and kitchen stuff. Everything else can just rot in the garage until our next move this August.
There is a garage sale in my future.
This is a line from a childrens' book I bought for Thing 1 when we first moved overseas. Thing 1 moved on to a more appropriate school age book and I used this one with Thing 2 who repeated this line over an over when the movers packed us up in Poland.
And today I sit here as the boxes are stacked up around me. I have realized a few things in the days since our household effects were delivered.
1) We have too much stuff. In addition to the boxes around me, we now have a garage filled from top to bottom, backwards and forwards with stuff.
2) We don't really need any of this stuff. When you are forced to live without your things for 4 months, you realize that you really can live with out it. I don't know if the same is true about my iPhone though. For the last 2 months after our corporate lease expired, we have all been sleeping on air mattresses on the floor. It is pretty humbling, but you begin to realize that you don't even "need" a bed. Although I am very pleased to have my bed (my select comfort adjustable bed that doesn't wake me when my husband moves) to sleep on. In a way, I appreciate my bed that much more.
3) As unnerving as it is to have all this clutter around me, I am pleasantly surprised at what deep breathing exercises and focusing on the bigger picture can do. Those of you who know me KNOW that I need to be in a fairly organized environment. Years of self analysis have made me understand that this stems from the loss of control I felt when I lost of my father. You can't control people, so I control my environment. So, if I find myself under great stress or distress, you can bet that my house, car, and office, are neat and organized. This is my neurosis. It is very hard to not have a panic attack when your form of coping has been hijacked. However, I have managed, and after sitting with these boxes for a few days and lots of breathing, er...hyperventilation), I am no longer bothered by them. They will be going away today if I have any say in it.
4) It is amazing how many memories are tied into these things we own. The few boxes I have opened brought back memories from our life in Warsaw and some things even have the scent of our old house. In one box, I even found Polish dust bunnies that would so annoy me back then - now they just made me smile. This is why people who live overseas end up with so much stuff in storage - the memories of those items can make it difficult to part with them.
Today is unpacking day. It is going to be 87 degrees here today and my mission is to find my summer clothing somewhere in this mess. In fact the only mission I have is to find my clothing, bathroom stuff and kitchen stuff. Everything else can just rot in the garage until our next move this August.
There is a garage sale in my future.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Reverse Culture Shock
We have now been back in our country for about 2 months. Things are certainly looking up, but just when you think you have completed the hurdle something comes along to remind you that this was not the case.
McDonald’s is one of those American staples that whether you like it or not, it is a source of comfort just knowing that one is around. In Warsaw, the Wilanow McDonald’s was that anchor, centrally located in the expat community. I am not a big fan of McDonalds, but every once in a while I would allow the kids to have some Kurczak McNuggets in an effort to provide a little bit of America to them. My kids loved going there, not necessarily for the meal, but for the toy. In European McDonalds’, children are given a choice of toys. You can get the same toy over and over or you can add a bit of variety.
Flash forward to our most recent visit to the golden arches where my son is shocked to find that he has no choice. It is one toy for one and all. If you ask me, that’s a bit socialist, don’t you think?
McDonald’s is one of those American staples that whether you like it or not, it is a source of comfort just knowing that one is around. In Warsaw, the Wilanow McDonald’s was that anchor, centrally located in the expat community. I am not a big fan of McDonalds, but every once in a while I would allow the kids to have some Kurczak McNuggets in an effort to provide a little bit of America to them. My kids loved going there, not necessarily for the meal, but for the toy. In European McDonalds’, children are given a choice of toys. You can get the same toy over and over or you can add a bit of variety.
Flash forward to our most recent visit to the golden arches where my son is shocked to find that he has no choice. It is one toy for one and all. If you ask me, that’s a bit socialist, don’t you think?
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Moving back to your country - A kid's perspective
We adults get so caught up in all the hoopla of moving home that it is easy to forget that your little people are also adjusting. I noticed several things this week with my children that I just never gave any thought.
Here are just a few of those observations:
I have never seen someone as delighted by a walk in closet than Thing 2. Then, it dawned on me, that my now cognizant daughter, has never really had a closet. She has lived out of a wardrobe her whole life. She is thrilled by her new found "house" as she calls it.
The obsession with sunlight is also quite interesting. After being in the land of 3pm sunsets, both kids are constantly talking about the sun. It is finally shining on them and they couldn't be more pleased. I feel the same way.
I have always taken off my shoes at the door simply because my OCD mom instilled this in to me. After having kids, i became ever more obsessed with not tracking in dirt. In other parts of the world (not just Japan), it is customary to remove your shoes when entering a home. So was the case in Poland where you even keep slippers for your guests in your home. This is not the case in most of America and now I have to constantly remind my children to keep their shoes on especially in school where children don't change into indoor shoes.
Most little people don't have a clue about what you are talking about when you tell them you lived overseas. At this age, most haven't been out of the country. So, they really have no interest in hearing about all the great places you traveled to because they have no idea what or where that is. Knowing this, I had a talk with Thing 1 telling him not to talk too much about his experience abroad unless kids actually express interest (which I highly doubt).
What caught me by surprise the most was the pledge of allegiance! I think the last time I recited the pledge of allegiance was in high school. Like most Americans, I also stand for the national anthem which I have more recently done at sporting events. But, I never gave a thought to the fact that my 6 year old has never been to school in America and did not know the pledge of allegiance. You don't pledge allegiance to the United States when you are in an overseas school. He didn't know what it was. So when we were in his new school earlier in the week and all the kids stood for the pledge, Thing 1 just sat at his desk. We were there for his first day and had to teach him what to do (stand, right hand over heart, recite). So, heads up, expats - teach your kids the pledge or at least tell them about this school custom if you are coming back to the US.
I will add to this list as I notice more in the coming weeks. I am sure it will a take a few months to adjust.
Here are just a few of those observations:
I have never seen someone as delighted by a walk in closet than Thing 2. Then, it dawned on me, that my now cognizant daughter, has never really had a closet. She has lived out of a wardrobe her whole life. She is thrilled by her new found "house" as she calls it.
The obsession with sunlight is also quite interesting. After being in the land of 3pm sunsets, both kids are constantly talking about the sun. It is finally shining on them and they couldn't be more pleased. I feel the same way.
I have always taken off my shoes at the door simply because my OCD mom instilled this in to me. After having kids, i became ever more obsessed with not tracking in dirt. In other parts of the world (not just Japan), it is customary to remove your shoes when entering a home. So was the case in Poland where you even keep slippers for your guests in your home. This is not the case in most of America and now I have to constantly remind my children to keep their shoes on especially in school where children don't change into indoor shoes.
Most little people don't have a clue about what you are talking about when you tell them you lived overseas. At this age, most haven't been out of the country. So, they really have no interest in hearing about all the great places you traveled to because they have no idea what or where that is. Knowing this, I had a talk with Thing 1 telling him not to talk too much about his experience abroad unless kids actually express interest (which I highly doubt).
What caught me by surprise the most was the pledge of allegiance! I think the last time I recited the pledge of allegiance was in high school. Like most Americans, I also stand for the national anthem which I have more recently done at sporting events. But, I never gave a thought to the fact that my 6 year old has never been to school in America and did not know the pledge of allegiance. You don't pledge allegiance to the United States when you are in an overseas school. He didn't know what it was. So when we were in his new school earlier in the week and all the kids stood for the pledge, Thing 1 just sat at his desk. We were there for his first day and had to teach him what to do (stand, right hand over heart, recite). So, heads up, expats - teach your kids the pledge or at least tell them about this school custom if you are coming back to the US.
I will add to this list as I notice more in the coming weeks. I am sure it will a take a few months to adjust.
Moving back to your country - or trying not to lose your mind over 60 days!
After 2 1/2 years in Warsaw, Poland, our family moved back to VA over the holidays. After a two glorious weeks in warm, sunny, Florida, we made our way back to chilly Virginia where an ice storm was expected in the coming days.
This moving back thing is actually harder than moving away. I had read this previously, but didn't quite understand why moving back to your own country would be so difficult. Visiting seemed so easy. I felt so at home. It also took place in Florida where I am a native and know most of the state like the back of my hand.
Now, we are back in Virginia where I am not a native and have not lived here for 6 years. It feels every bit as foreign as Warsaw did initially. This area has changed alot in 6 years. I am completely disoriented and my GPS, which I relied on in Warsaw, is not as up to date on the new roads in Virginia. I feel nauseated everytime I get into the car mostly because after that trip to and from FL I have no desire to be in a car.
Going to the store is as overwhelming as it was shopping in Warsaw for the first time. This time, the problem is choices (with price coming in a close second!). There are so many (in English) that I find myself overwhelmed. I long for forced choice! Everything looks different and I keep trying to turn on lights outside the doors instead of inside. I pull doors instead of pushing them. There is certainly some readjustment to be done. We stopped at Disney World for one day on our way back up here and I felt more at home there with all the foreigners speaking all their different languages than I do now.
Moving back home you receive no support other than from those arranging the delivery of your household effects and that takes forever. There is no housekeeper to clean my house or do my laundry or watch my 2 year old. A second job is required for those luxuries including preschool for that 2 year old which I am fervently working on as I write. You don't get a welcome home packet with crucial information like schools, doctors, vets, etc. Nor do you get your home and utilities provided and paid for by a third party. You are truly on your own now. Good luck and welcome home!
There are certainly lots of pluses to being back. The best by far is hearing English or Spanish spoken everywhere. Being able to access all those services I mentioned above without having to learn a new language or bringing an interpreter is a relief. Living abroad gives you a certainly love and appreciation for your home country that you would not otherwise have or understand.
America is far from perfect and I am sure I could make a list of everything that is done better in Europe (focus on family, first and foremost). But I am so grateful to live in a country that has wide open roads, where I don't have to do mathematical equations to convert everything to the Metric system (although i think the entire world should have a uniform system), where the bureaucracy is not as overwhelming and where you can take care of much of that bureaucratic stuff on-line, where people stop at intersections (stop sign or not!), where you don't have to pay for your plastic bags or bag your own groceries or even leave a coin deposit for your shopping cart, where I don't have to weigh produce, where parking spaces are clearly marked and sidewalks are meant for walking (even if I feel urges to jump on that sidewalk from time to time), where people know what a parade is and where to stand for one, and even, as overwhelming as it all is right now, where there is variety in just about everything.
Yes, I think it is safe to say, I love being home!
This moving back thing is actually harder than moving away. I had read this previously, but didn't quite understand why moving back to your own country would be so difficult. Visiting seemed so easy. I felt so at home. It also took place in Florida where I am a native and know most of the state like the back of my hand.
Now, we are back in Virginia where I am not a native and have not lived here for 6 years. It feels every bit as foreign as Warsaw did initially. This area has changed alot in 6 years. I am completely disoriented and my GPS, which I relied on in Warsaw, is not as up to date on the new roads in Virginia. I feel nauseated everytime I get into the car mostly because after that trip to and from FL I have no desire to be in a car.
Going to the store is as overwhelming as it was shopping in Warsaw for the first time. This time, the problem is choices (with price coming in a close second!). There are so many (in English) that I find myself overwhelmed. I long for forced choice! Everything looks different and I keep trying to turn on lights outside the doors instead of inside. I pull doors instead of pushing them. There is certainly some readjustment to be done. We stopped at Disney World for one day on our way back up here and I felt more at home there with all the foreigners speaking all their different languages than I do now.
Moving back home you receive no support other than from those arranging the delivery of your household effects and that takes forever. There is no housekeeper to clean my house or do my laundry or watch my 2 year old. A second job is required for those luxuries including preschool for that 2 year old which I am fervently working on as I write. You don't get a welcome home packet with crucial information like schools, doctors, vets, etc. Nor do you get your home and utilities provided and paid for by a third party. You are truly on your own now. Good luck and welcome home!
There are certainly lots of pluses to being back. The best by far is hearing English or Spanish spoken everywhere. Being able to access all those services I mentioned above without having to learn a new language or bringing an interpreter is a relief. Living abroad gives you a certainly love and appreciation for your home country that you would not otherwise have or understand.
America is far from perfect and I am sure I could make a list of everything that is done better in Europe (focus on family, first and foremost). But I am so grateful to live in a country that has wide open roads, where I don't have to do mathematical equations to convert everything to the Metric system (although i think the entire world should have a uniform system), where the bureaucracy is not as overwhelming and where you can take care of much of that bureaucratic stuff on-line, where people stop at intersections (stop sign or not!), where you don't have to pay for your plastic bags or bag your own groceries or even leave a coin deposit for your shopping cart, where I don't have to weigh produce, where parking spaces are clearly marked and sidewalks are meant for walking (even if I feel urges to jump on that sidewalk from time to time), where people know what a parade is and where to stand for one, and even, as overwhelming as it all is right now, where there is variety in just about everything.
Yes, I think it is safe to say, I love being home!
Monday, December 22, 2008
We're back!
We finally made it into the United States Saturday, but not without drama.
The Cat had gotten us a great flight. It left at around 2pm. No early morning dashes to the airport for us unlike all our other expat friends leaving that morning. We leisurely got up around 7:30, at breakfast, ransacked the house to make sure we were not forgetting anything, threw away every leftover anything we had - just the regular morning routine when you are moving to another country.
We were picked up the Embassy van at 11am. When I say we, I mean my two children, myself, my dog, 6 suitcases packed to the max, a stroller and a car seat. There was barely any room in the van for anything else.
We get to airport around 11:30 with plenty of time to spare. I get in line at the Lufthansa ticket counter and when they see I have kids, they wave us over to check in at Business Class, which was empty. When the agent saw the two carts of stuff and the dog, she rolled her eyes in disdain and began complaining in German. She said I would be holding up the Business Class line. Now, the Cat had gotten us bumped up to Business Class for the long flight from Frankfurt, but not Warsaw to Frankfurt, which I mentioned to her. I also mentioned that there was no one in the Business Class line at this time. So, she did her job and checked us in. I was overweight for every bag, but they didn't charge me for anything accept the dog, which I expected. She told me that while she was able to check in the kids for the next leg of the flight, I had to go to the ticket counter to get my ticket in Frankfurt. Did I mention I only had a one hour layover in Frankfurt?
We got through security without much brouhaha, grabbed some water and went to sit at our gate and eat sandwiches I packed. While there, we ran into Thing 1 now former school principal who was on the way to Madrid with his wife. We always run into our fellow expats at the airport.
The flight to Frankfurt was effortless with the exception of Thing 1 insisting on taking things out of his backpack which I kindly (biting my lip and mentally counting to 10) told him that he could hold out for another two hours. I was not repacking that thing for him!
We deplaned at Frankfurt around 15:55. Our next flight left at 17:00. So I popped Thing 2 into the stroller, hung backpacks on it, gave Thing 1 the coats and told him to run. Luckily I know this airport and found the United Airlines counter without problem. I kindly (in hysterics) asked her for my boarding pass. Which she printed for someone else without so much as checking my passport? Thankfully I noticed and she then asked me for my passport. I got my pass, but it had me seated separately from the kids and I was told I still needed to go to the gate counter for my business class bump. All that and I still had to go through security.
I have always felt this double security check to be pointless. Those of us in the terminal have likely already gone through security somewhere else or we would not be in the terminal. The line was like a mile long. Frantic passengers kept trying to cut in saying their flight to Dulles was leaving and they had to cut in. I told one guy to take a number because I was on the same flight.
We finally get to security. The kids know the routine and took off their shoes. Still they set off the alarm and they along with me were patted down by the German officers. One of the things that I can't stand about Germany is that their collective consciousness makes them a bunch of rule following goody two shoes. Everything has to be by the book which is very annoying under extreme circumstances like being late for a flight.
So, it was no surpise when one of the officers tells me to open my backpack. This thing had to weigh 25 pounds and it was packed with way too much stuff. This woman rummaged through it trying to get to the bottom where she pulls out my jewelry pouch and manages to throw almost all my jewelry on the counter. I was livid and bitched her out asking her if they considered jewelry a weapon in their country. She seemed to be taken aback by all the jewelry and I told her I was moving back to the States and was not about to pack valuables for shipping. She did her best to pick it up, but in the end the pouch I had with Thing 2's jewelry which had all the sentimental value (there were some things in there that my dad had given me that I wanted to pass on to her as well as her baby ID bracelet and her birthstone rosary) went missing. Ironically, I posted something earlier this month about not being attached to many things unless they were of sentimental value and in a sense the loss became a self fulfilling prophecy. I am quite upset about this and will be placing a call to United Airlines to find this pouch at gate C2 in Frankfurt. I would sue if it were possible! If you think I have a case, please let me know.
After that fiasco, I ran to the counter and got my BC bump which more than made up for security. However, again they set us up in three separate rows. So, I went into BC and I made an announcement explaining the seating arrangement I had been given and asking for volunteers unless they wanted two hyperactive and one sick kid sitting next to them on the flight (I actually did say this!). Immediately two passengers gave up their seats. I got everyone settled with some snacks and we set off on a rather uneventful flight back to America.
When we finally got there, I had to get through passport control. I felt herded like cattle until I saw the glorious sign saying "Diplomats only." Kaching! I skipped about 100 people and went right to the counter. I think I'll hold on to that passport! After finding someone to help me gather my multitude of belongings and lying to the custom official that I was not bring any food of any kind into the country (my bag was stuffed with Kinder Egg Chocolates). I was finally on my way to a reunion with my husband.
Despite the jet lag, I had to unpack and then repack for the drive to FL the following day. So, while the kids spent time with dad, I managed to do it all and went to bed at 1am, over 24 hours after waking.
My kids were up and ready to go at 4am. Such is life. So I now sit here writing this opus at 5am as I wait for my tired husband to wake so we can get on the road. And somewhere in this great country of ours, my friends who traveled out Saturday are probably all up right along with me and their kids as our bodies try to figure out that we are not in Poland anymore.
The Cat had gotten us a great flight. It left at around 2pm. No early morning dashes to the airport for us unlike all our other expat friends leaving that morning. We leisurely got up around 7:30, at breakfast, ransacked the house to make sure we were not forgetting anything, threw away every leftover anything we had - just the regular morning routine when you are moving to another country.
We were picked up the Embassy van at 11am. When I say we, I mean my two children, myself, my dog, 6 suitcases packed to the max, a stroller and a car seat. There was barely any room in the van for anything else.
We get to airport around 11:30 with plenty of time to spare. I get in line at the Lufthansa ticket counter and when they see I have kids, they wave us over to check in at Business Class, which was empty. When the agent saw the two carts of stuff and the dog, she rolled her eyes in disdain and began complaining in German. She said I would be holding up the Business Class line. Now, the Cat had gotten us bumped up to Business Class for the long flight from Frankfurt, but not Warsaw to Frankfurt, which I mentioned to her. I also mentioned that there was no one in the Business Class line at this time. So, she did her job and checked us in. I was overweight for every bag, but they didn't charge me for anything accept the dog, which I expected. She told me that while she was able to check in the kids for the next leg of the flight, I had to go to the ticket counter to get my ticket in Frankfurt. Did I mention I only had a one hour layover in Frankfurt?
We got through security without much brouhaha, grabbed some water and went to sit at our gate and eat sandwiches I packed. While there, we ran into Thing 1 now former school principal who was on the way to Madrid with his wife. We always run into our fellow expats at the airport.
The flight to Frankfurt was effortless with the exception of Thing 1 insisting on taking things out of his backpack which I kindly (biting my lip and mentally counting to 10) told him that he could hold out for another two hours. I was not repacking that thing for him!
We deplaned at Frankfurt around 15:55. Our next flight left at 17:00. So I popped Thing 2 into the stroller, hung backpacks on it, gave Thing 1 the coats and told him to run. Luckily I know this airport and found the United Airlines counter without problem. I kindly (in hysterics) asked her for my boarding pass. Which she printed for someone else without so much as checking my passport? Thankfully I noticed and she then asked me for my passport. I got my pass, but it had me seated separately from the kids and I was told I still needed to go to the gate counter for my business class bump. All that and I still had to go through security.
I have always felt this double security check to be pointless. Those of us in the terminal have likely already gone through security somewhere else or we would not be in the terminal. The line was like a mile long. Frantic passengers kept trying to cut in saying their flight to Dulles was leaving and they had to cut in. I told one guy to take a number because I was on the same flight.
We finally get to security. The kids know the routine and took off their shoes. Still they set off the alarm and they along with me were patted down by the German officers. One of the things that I can't stand about Germany is that their collective consciousness makes them a bunch of rule following goody two shoes. Everything has to be by the book which is very annoying under extreme circumstances like being late for a flight.
So, it was no surpise when one of the officers tells me to open my backpack. This thing had to weigh 25 pounds and it was packed with way too much stuff. This woman rummaged through it trying to get to the bottom where she pulls out my jewelry pouch and manages to throw almost all my jewelry on the counter. I was livid and bitched her out asking her if they considered jewelry a weapon in their country. She seemed to be taken aback by all the jewelry and I told her I was moving back to the States and was not about to pack valuables for shipping. She did her best to pick it up, but in the end the pouch I had with Thing 2's jewelry which had all the sentimental value (there were some things in there that my dad had given me that I wanted to pass on to her as well as her baby ID bracelet and her birthstone rosary) went missing. Ironically, I posted something earlier this month about not being attached to many things unless they were of sentimental value and in a sense the loss became a self fulfilling prophecy. I am quite upset about this and will be placing a call to United Airlines to find this pouch at gate C2 in Frankfurt. I would sue if it were possible! If you think I have a case, please let me know.
After that fiasco, I ran to the counter and got my BC bump which more than made up for security. However, again they set us up in three separate rows. So, I went into BC and I made an announcement explaining the seating arrangement I had been given and asking for volunteers unless they wanted two hyperactive and one sick kid sitting next to them on the flight (I actually did say this!). Immediately two passengers gave up their seats. I got everyone settled with some snacks and we set off on a rather uneventful flight back to America.
When we finally got there, I had to get through passport control. I felt herded like cattle until I saw the glorious sign saying "Diplomats only." Kaching! I skipped about 100 people and went right to the counter. I think I'll hold on to that passport! After finding someone to help me gather my multitude of belongings and lying to the custom official that I was not bring any food of any kind into the country (my bag was stuffed with Kinder Egg Chocolates). I was finally on my way to a reunion with my husband.
Despite the jet lag, I had to unpack and then repack for the drive to FL the following day. So, while the kids spent time with dad, I managed to do it all and went to bed at 1am, over 24 hours after waking.
My kids were up and ready to go at 4am. Such is life. So I now sit here writing this opus at 5am as I wait for my tired husband to wake so we can get on the road. And somewhere in this great country of ours, my friends who traveled out Saturday are probably all up right along with me and their kids as our bodies try to figure out that we are not in Poland anymore.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Through the sands of time
I have been reminiscing a lot this week. Time here has passed ever so quickly. When I look at Thing 2, I can see how quickly. She arrived her at 7 months, drooling, teething and barely sitting up. She is leaving with a full set of teeth, running, and jumping. I can hardly get her to sit still. She has gone from babbling to being a non stop chatterbox and speaking PolSpanGlish, her own made up language. She can dress herself, put her shoes on and loves to role play with other children. Mini me in the making. She has no clue what is happening right now and if she is anything like me, it will hit her later when she realizes that she is going to a different preschool without her beloved Pani Kinga or Pani Ula. To them, I thank for making Thing 2's first preschool experience so rewarding.
Thing 1 arrived here 2 days after his 4th birthday. While he had learned basic writing, he was still trying to work out a deal where he would not have to write anything. Today, he writes sentences on his own, journals, and he can read most Dr. Seuss books to his eagerly listening sister. He has also learned to swim, speak a little Polish. He knows about many different cultures, languages and the boy can identify more flags and capital cities than I can. His simple awareness and acceptance of differences has made this entire journey worthwhile. Socially, he learned how to be a friend and found one of the best joys in life, a best friend who complements him very well. While he understands what is going on, he is a sensitive boy who intensely feels the loss of his friends. His friends gave him a book today with pictures of the past few months where they wrote all the things they liked about Thing 1 and wished him well. It was very sweet and I am sure he will treasure it when he looks back at his early school years in Warsaw.
As for for me, I am reminded of a verse in Rent's Seasons of Love - "how do you measure a year in the life? Or two and half years for that matter! In the short time I have been here, I have hopefully targeted every neuron and created so many new synapses that Alzheimer's better beware.
I learned a new culture, new language, new way of life. I learned to make triple U-turns with perfect strangers, ride up on sidewalks just because, and jump medians when I didn't feel like waiting. I mean seriously! I would sit there waiting to turn and then it would hit me - I can just jump this median and make my u-turn because no one cares! I also became a parallel parking queen. I have managed to squeeze my SUV into the tightest spots imaginable without even making a dent. Wish I could say the same about the stupidly placed columns in certain parking garages I will not mention and random untrimmed tree branches that have placed my car in need of a major paint job.
I recently learned that driving through Nowy Swiat is not allowed. The street is closed to buses and taxis only. Not that this stopped me as recently as this week from driving up that way to get into the Old Town. And probably, the most illegal thing I have done in this country is drive for the past two years without a license. When the Cat finally realized that our international driving permit just would not do, we applied. This was back in October. I am still waiting for my license. Lucky for us, we didn't get into any accidents with actual people. Just inanimate objects!
I learned to survive on a constant coffee drip and nothing more until after noon thanks to the Mums and Tots and AFW. I learned to perform mathematical somersaults for everything from currency to kilometers, pounds to kilograms and even decagrams. I learned the Metric System people! And this, folks, I must say makes us the odd man out. Why the heck aren't we on the metric system? It would make things so much easier.
I learned Polish. Sure, I have always had a knack for languages, but Polish is no easy feat. The other day, I was finally able to watch Borat and when he broke into Polish, it didn't even sound foreign to me. I did not know they spoke Polish in Kazakhstan. Who knew? I especially notice how much I learned when i listen to children speaking and can understand what they are saying. They are the best people to practice Polish with because their Polish isn't any better than mine.
Probably what I learned the most was from my international group of friends. We all live in our little worlds focused on everyones apparent differences. We fight wars over differences of religion and politics. But, the reality is that we are all more similar than we are different. I really believe that everyone should afford themselves such an experience if only for that reason. I can no longer look at an immigrant or foreigner in my own country without understanding the difficulty they may be going through and offering assistance. It has made me far more compassionate.
I have enjoyed my time here and it will take a while to readjust to my own country. Life went on there when we left too and I now need to try and catch up with it.
Thing 1 arrived here 2 days after his 4th birthday. While he had learned basic writing, he was still trying to work out a deal where he would not have to write anything. Today, he writes sentences on his own, journals, and he can read most Dr. Seuss books to his eagerly listening sister. He has also learned to swim, speak a little Polish. He knows about many different cultures, languages and the boy can identify more flags and capital cities than I can. His simple awareness and acceptance of differences has made this entire journey worthwhile. Socially, he learned how to be a friend and found one of the best joys in life, a best friend who complements him very well. While he understands what is going on, he is a sensitive boy who intensely feels the loss of his friends. His friends gave him a book today with pictures of the past few months where they wrote all the things they liked about Thing 1 and wished him well. It was very sweet and I am sure he will treasure it when he looks back at his early school years in Warsaw.
As for for me, I am reminded of a verse in Rent's Seasons of Love - "how do you measure a year in the life? Or two and half years for that matter! In the short time I have been here, I have hopefully targeted every neuron and created so many new synapses that Alzheimer's better beware.
I learned a new culture, new language, new way of life. I learned to make triple U-turns with perfect strangers, ride up on sidewalks just because, and jump medians when I didn't feel like waiting. I mean seriously! I would sit there waiting to turn and then it would hit me - I can just jump this median and make my u-turn because no one cares! I also became a parallel parking queen. I have managed to squeeze my SUV into the tightest spots imaginable without even making a dent. Wish I could say the same about the stupidly placed columns in certain parking garages I will not mention and random untrimmed tree branches that have placed my car in need of a major paint job.
I recently learned that driving through Nowy Swiat is not allowed. The street is closed to buses and taxis only. Not that this stopped me as recently as this week from driving up that way to get into the Old Town. And probably, the most illegal thing I have done in this country is drive for the past two years without a license. When the Cat finally realized that our international driving permit just would not do, we applied. This was back in October. I am still waiting for my license. Lucky for us, we didn't get into any accidents with actual people. Just inanimate objects!
I learned to survive on a constant coffee drip and nothing more until after noon thanks to the Mums and Tots and AFW. I learned to perform mathematical somersaults for everything from currency to kilometers, pounds to kilograms and even decagrams. I learned the Metric System people! And this, folks, I must say makes us the odd man out. Why the heck aren't we on the metric system? It would make things so much easier.
I learned Polish. Sure, I have always had a knack for languages, but Polish is no easy feat. The other day, I was finally able to watch Borat and when he broke into Polish, it didn't even sound foreign to me. I did not know they spoke Polish in Kazakhstan. Who knew? I especially notice how much I learned when i listen to children speaking and can understand what they are saying. They are the best people to practice Polish with because their Polish isn't any better than mine.
Probably what I learned the most was from my international group of friends. We all live in our little worlds focused on everyones apparent differences. We fight wars over differences of religion and politics. But, the reality is that we are all more similar than we are different. I really believe that everyone should afford themselves such an experience if only for that reason. I can no longer look at an immigrant or foreigner in my own country without understanding the difficulty they may be going through and offering assistance. It has made me far more compassionate.
I have enjoyed my time here and it will take a while to readjust to my own country. Life went on there when we left too and I now need to try and catch up with it.
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