Mii Kosam

A Pasay Adventure

2012-02-09T03:27:00.000-08:00

I'll admit, I haven't explored our "backyard" neighborhood very much. If I leave out of the front of the compound, I can take Roxas straight to the chancery. Or with a quick u-turn, I'm at Mall of Asia or S&R (think Sam's Club). Aside from a very occasional meal at the Sofitel or show at the CCP (Cultural Center of the Philippines), I don't do much in my neighborhood. In honestly, we don't do much except go to the playground and pool!

Ten months after arriving, I finally ventured out the back gate to run an errand. When in Chennai in July, I purchased some raw silk to make a dress and jacket. I finally found a seamstress I liked with a schedule whose matched mine, so I was ready to undertake this project. But I needed lining, thread, buttons, and a zipper. The seamstress told me of a place called Carolina's which I could walk to. After some discussion back and forth in Tagalog with Lea, Lea agreed she knew where it was. This evening, of we went (I took Lea since I didn't want to get lost, and there was no where to park a car).

As it turns out, the store was almost a straight shot from Seafront, about 15-20 minutes by foot. For Manilans -- just on Libertad past the LRT station. It had all sorts of sewing notions you could imagine, though definitely geared more toward fancy gowns (think lots of ribbon, rhinestones, and shiny fabirc) than suits and daily clothes. I did manage to find what I needed, thankfully, even if the button selection was a bit more metallic than I would usually opt for.

With the weather finally cooling off, I enjoyed the early evening walk. Our area seems to specialize in inexpensive furniture and second hand clothes, judged by the number of shops of each kind. The public market seemed quite clean compared to similar markets in India, and Lea said the inner stalls sold fruits and veggies for up to 20% less than the ones close to the street. Trikes and jeepneys plied the streets with the occasional motorbike or bicycle - but I didn't really see any passenger cars. Street food vendors sold fried eggs (think hard boiled eggs dipped in batter and fried), fish balls (Lea says never to eat these since even Filipinos get sick eating them), ice cream, and soda in a bag with a straw (i.e., poured out of a big liter bottle into a sandwich baggie for about 10 cents).

Patch was quite a novelty, not surprisingly. He decided he didn't really like the attention and kept trying to pull the sun visor down over his head. Jeepneys won't stop for much, but they will for a white baby with strawberry blonde hair in a stroller trying to cross the street in a neighborhood where we were the only foreigners to be seen.

Unless I need some flowers (found two flower and party supply stores), some more sewing notions, or perhaps just want to browse the public market, I don't think I'll walk around much. At least, though, I can say with conviction that I don't live next to a "slum," like an acquaintance (who lives in the Fort) told me last night. It's not upper class, but streets are swept and stores well kept. Just a normal neighborhood for normal people.

Mamma Mia!

2012-01-28T15:30:00.000-08:00

The ad slogan says, "the world's No 1 show comes to Manila!" I'm not sure if it is the world's #1 show - but I did have a fun evening.

I had decided way back in September that I wanted to get tickets. But one thing led to another, and by the time the new year rolled around, I hadn't purchased any. And friends had already bought theirs, and I didn't feel like going alone, and Greg refused to go, so I figured I was out of luck. Except at the last minute, a friend of a friend had a cancellation in her group - so ticket-problem solved! Not only that, I also got to chat with some of the USAID folks - their offices are in a completely different location, so casual "cross pollination" is rare.

I don't think I've been to a show like this in some time - certainly never in HYD, and not on home leave, so that makes it at least three years. Word on the street is that Phantom of the Opera is coming to Manila before I leave post, so perhaps I'll have a chance to see another. Better take advantage of these things while I'm living in a city that can offer the opportunity!

What I enjoyed most, though, was remembering Wm's Christmas show. His class did dance numbers to two songs, his favorite of which was "Mamma Mia." He still - one month later - will break into song and do the dance. Thank goodness I have a short video clip from that performance :) So, as I sat watching a professional broadway production, what I was really thinking about was Wm dancing seriously (he does everything seriously!) on his school stage ... and teared up a bit, actually. Not sure why, but I missed him even though he was just a mile down the street. Seemed like he should have been watching it with me.

[For the record, Greg left the city for a night diving trip. That's how much he wanted an excuse not to hear Abba!]

Kung Hei Fat Choi

2012-01-23T00:08:00.000-08:00

Happy Year of the Water Dragon! At least, that's what the newspapers here are calling this year of the Chinese zodiac.

With a day off of work, I spent the morning getting my hair cut and colored. I had done some research to see if there were a lion dance or dragon parade or something cultural like that we could take the boys to see -- but only coming up with large gatherings, I decided to pass. Large crowds just aren't my thing. And I couldn't figure out if our local Pasay City hall was going to have anything or not.

The Rockwell area near my salon did - I had just had my hair prepped, about to be colored, and was about 10 minutes into a foot spa pedicure (much more time efficient, combining these beauty treatments), when loud drums sounded outside. Two guys in a lion costume and about 20 people carrying a dragon-on-a-stick came around the corner. The dragon stayed outside, but the lion dancers came into the salon and all around. My own private lion dance!

After touring the premises, the lion backed out of the salon; I am wondering if going out forwards might be a bad omen, since it would turn its back to the establishment? The front guy in the lion then tried to reach up to get the little money envelope hanging above the doors. Unfortunately for him, he was short and the door was quite high. even with jumping he couldn't reach! The salon manager was about to bring out a step ladder, but then, still in lion costume, he jumped up on the other half of the lion (ie, the guy playing the hind quarters) and looked like a lion standing on his back legs. He reached his arm through the lion's mouth, grabbed the money envelope, jumped down, and then the whole entourage proceeded to the next establishment (a deli).

Needless to say, no camera on hand since I was expecting to only be at the salon. And, too bad Wm and Patch couldn't see. At least I felt like I experienced a little bit of Chinese New Year - and more of a "real" part than a "staged" version.

Here's my friend's version of the same event!

Life without Amazon.com?

2012-01-20T18:25:00.000-08:00

I can't imagine it. Well, actually I can, and I see a much more difficult - and expensive - life abroad. I think the ability to receive online shipments by DPO must keep our COLA down significantly. I've blogged before about how surprised I was at the cost of food here. But it's not just food ... it's also normal daily life things like durable mops and Crocs for the boys.

Case point. I've spent about a month looking at the grocery and hardware stores every weekend for a replacement sponge mop. Most of the mops sold here are the straggly rope kind, which I think end up flinging around more dirt than they actually pick up. Though the dust here isn't as bad as India, it's still at a higher level than the US. Match that with two boys constantly running in and outside, and a dog, and the house should be mopped every other day. You see how critical a mop is to our house! Today I broke down and ordered one from Amazon. Same with Crocs for the boys - since the local Croc stores don't carry lime green (the only color Wm will accept) and have a price mark up of 30%.

I really try to keep online shopping to a minimum. I feel like it's cheating, taking the easy way out to living abroad. After all, most expats don't have the luxury of DPO (diplomatic post office - the foreign service equivalent of APO or armed services post office), though perhaps some companies offer a forwarding service for letters and small packages. These other families seem to manage just fine with just taking an extra suitcase when they do go back to the States.

I sometimes wish some 70 year old retired foreign service officer could spend a year abroad now and write about the differences. How would my outlook change without Amazon.com, Vonage, and Google Chat (better connection at our house than Skype)? What was it like living in a really rural area 40 years ago with only letters - and delivery of those only once per week at best?

Part of me thinks trying out that life style would be an interesting experiment, along the lines of a PBS reality series where a family tries to live as in Victorian times. (I haven't seen this, but some friends were discussing it). I won't, of course; the Internet is too ubiquitous to give up for a month.

Guest room filling up - book soon!

2012-01-18T03:49:00.000-08:00

It seems 2012 will bring us visitors! OK, only three so far, but given the 30 hour $2000 flight from the US, three is a big number. Karen (aka Nana) just finished a stop in for a week after spending two weeks with Greg's sister. One of my sisters is coming in March, and another in June/July.

That only leaves February, April and May with no visitors, since we're planning on being back in the US in late August / early September. If the Philippines is on your travel list - and you generally need to stop in Manila to transit to any of the domestic beaches - you better let us know soon :)

Out for dinner

2012-01-07T04:47:00.000-08:00

Some how, going out for a dinner date shouldn't be that hard. We live in a city with a lot of restaurants and have a nanny who is always willing to work some OT (and our housekeeper gladly subs in if she's not free for some strange reason). Our driver would like to have more OT than we give him (since on the rare occasions we do go out, usually Greg drives). With these non-existent basic roadblocks, why, then, do we not?

I think it has to do with the traffic and our housing location. We like living at Seafront for the boys and dog and proximity to the Embassy, but it can be an hour drive to Makati or The Fort, where most of our friends and the restaurants we want to try are. Sometimes it only takes 20 minutes. But others can be *painful.* And the last thing we want to do on a Friday after a full week of work is spend 1+ hour sitting in traffic. The risk scares us off. We have the added benefit that our nanny is a pretty good cook, so we'd rather eat her prepared dinner than a mediocre experiment at a new restaurant.

This last Friday, though, after so long home with the boys, we decided to go out. We invited another couple, who readily agreed - they even live in Makati, but tend to be home bodies. To commemorate the occasion, we opted for The Fort Strip. Greg and I had previously tried a Chinese restaurant there, and the others looked good. Parking was a bit of a bear, but eventually we managed to find our companions.

The Strip is a collection of restaurants and clubs (and a gym thrown in) in a nice-looking strip mall, kind of like the "towne centres" you see in suburban America. After deciding that none of us were up for an expensive meal, and the ladies ruled out Chinese, and the guys weren't so thrilled about pub food that evening (weird, I know), and the menu of the Japanese restaurant would not fit the bill for two quasi-Japan-ophiles, we settled on choosing between three Italian bistros. We ended up on the one on the second floor with a terrace, so we could sit outside and enjoy the breeze - it's finally cool enough to be outside at night!

The food wasn't spectacular, but for $25 per couple it was certainly appropriate. The company was pleasant, and we stayed a bit longer chatting than we intended, I think :) Obviously, we just need to embrace the Manila traffic and go out a bit more often.

Two Disconnected New Year's Thoughts

2012-01-03T05:15:00.000-08:00

No real relation of either of these thoughts to each other, and no real reason they should go in the same post, except that both are New Year's related, and I don't really like super short posts for some reason.

1. New Year's Day here had terrible air quality - from left over firecracker residue and, even worse, from fires caused by fireworks that burned down houses. Even the Washington Post had an article about it! (read here). I've really tried hard not to complain about the bad smell sometimes coming from Manila Bay - or the pollution - in front of Wm, because I don't want him to be sensitive to that and hear negative comments from me about Manila. I knew New Year's morning was absolutely terrible air quality, though, when we took Bagwelle for her morning walk and we couldn't even see the buildings across the street because of smog. Then, after about a minute, Wm said, "Mama, it really stinks out here. I don't think I want to be outside today - I'm going back." And, we had all three air purifiers blasting all day.

Luckily, the average air quality rating for Manila isn't that high above what the WHO considers acceptable, so I'm not overly concerned about asthma or other respiratory illnesses for any of us. But if we had lots of days like Jan 1, I really would be. For the most part, thoughts about poor air quality just lurk in the back of my mind.

2. I've been trying to think about if I have any New Year's resolutions. In the process of thinking, I realized I'm generally pretty happy with where we are and what I'm doing and how the boys are doing, etc etc. I could only come up with one: I want to try and learn how to do a yoga headstand this year. After three years of regular yoga study, I think I should push myself a bit more. And, now that I've written it on the blog for you all to read, I need to stick to it!

Disney on Ice

2012-01-01T04:51:00.000-08:00

We started 2012 doing something I've never done before, nor had much inclination to try: seeing a Disney on Ice show at the Areneta Coliseum. I don't remember ever asking my parents to bring me to this kind of show - or even discussing the idea of seeing one with my little sisters. Thus, this was not some sort of "relive my childhood" outing, subjecting my boys to an ice skating show. Seriously, despite some thoughts floating out there to the contrary, I don't regret only having boys (though this might change in 30 years when I realize for certain I won't get to help plan a wedding nor be the first grandma to hold their babies. But that's far off and I still have time to come to terms with such things.)

The decision to go stemmed from a few reasons. (1) Our Manila stay-cation has been a bit long without other distractions. Diving solved part of this problem, but one can only walk around a mall so many times - and, besides, the malls were all closed this morning. HORRORS. (2) In HYD, our big-production theatre entertainment options were limited, so the idea of going to a show was appealing. (3) Ticket prices ranged from $3 in the nosebleed section to $40 for ring-side. (4) With the city deserted for the New Year holiday, traveling the nine miles up EDSA actually had a high probability of taking a normal amount of time.

I called this morning and decided to splurge for the second-tier box seats, at about $25/seat. But, in a truly annoying experience, after the guy on the phone told me what section my seats would be in, he informed me that they were no longer selling tickets over the phone and I should come to the Coliseum to pick them up now. Not even Will Call. Um. Yeah. Not driving there and back twice in one day. In frustration, I childishly hung up the phone on him and called of the trip. Wm, however, promised not to be cranky the whole afternoon if we went. Since he had been pretty miserable to that point (not having had enough sleep yesterday), I acquiesced. Outing on again.

Wm kept his promise, and we made it up in record time - 23 minutes. Amazing. Love this city when it empties out! An hour before the show, though, only seats in non-reserved sections were left. Not really liking large crowds in any country (I once got freaked out at a firework display in Japan - yes, Japan, whose only rival is Germany for orderliness), I hesitated, envisioning throngs of people balancing children, bright red hotdogs, and soda pushing to get better seats ... me and my little boys tumbling down the steep steps. Greg's more sane mind prevailed, though, and he pointed out that since we had already driven there, that Wm's mood was picking up, and that Filipinos are generally non-confrontational, we should be fine. And, if we or the boys didn't like it, four tickets were only $33, so it wouldn't be a deal breaker to leave without seeing the show.

He was right. Everyone found seats in the "Upper B" section without commotion, and the audience was pleasant, minus the children screaming at the top of their lungs in excitement when the Disney characters appeared. The rest of the show progressed as I imagine such shows would in the USA, non-objectionable music and medium-skill level ice skating, but kids super excited seeing the characters moving.

Patch, not having much Disney awareness yet, spent most of the time "planking" between our seat and the wall in front of us, dancing at a particularly catchy tune, and trying to entice his brother to wrestle. Wm was enchanted by about 75% of the show and spent the other quarter of his time eating popcorn and trying to fend off his younger brother ("Yes, Patch, I love you, too, but can you get out of my way so I can watch?"). About five minutes before the end (two hours after our arrival) he announced he had had enough and wanted to go home. Seemed like a good idea to us so we didn't get caught in the crowd exiting.

All in all, I enjoyed it because it was a new thing to do with the boys - they're at an age where such outings can be really hit or miss, and this one was (thankfully) a hit. And it got us out of our usual Seafront playground or fresh fruit smoothie at MoA outing routine, to see a new side of Manila. Gas + parking + snacks + tickets totaled about $45 - not inconsequential, but not bank-breaking either - which is probably about the price of just one ticket at a similar show in the US. Can't complain!

Arthur's Place

2011-12-30T04:56:00.000-08:00

A two to three hour drive from our house lies Anilao, ie, a great dive location close to Manila. To take a break from the city, in our staycation we took a one night, four dive trip, staying at Arthur's Place which is just what we've been looking for. At $60/room/night (food and dive equipment extra) with a big lawn and enough beach to keep the boys entertained while we're out, the quality-for-price ratio is just right. Not that we didn't enjoy the luxury Vivre Azure stay with Bob back in July -- but at that price and with those amenities, who wants to dive? Arthur's was the perfect set up for our dive trip.

As I've mentioned before, diving would be impossible if we couldn't bring our nanny with us. Luckily, she loves playing with the boys at the beach, and, even better, they follow the rules and don't go in past their knees when we're not there. The waves in Batangas are very gentle, with no undertow. Thus, we can enjoy a few dives out and not worry about if the boys are having fun.

We took this trip with another couple from work who also have two boys, ages 8 and 5. Their grandma was visiting, so, voila!, their childcare taken care of, too. Diving can be kind of a tricky hobby when your kids can't come, so trips must be strategically planned when non-divers come to visit. Wm and the 5 yr old played well together, and Patch tried his best to keep up. Our dive master (and friend!) took the eight year old out the second morning to snorkel and try out breathing through the regulator (at the surface). What a memorable treat for him.

Even if the visibility wasn't that great (the coral was blooming two weeks ago, and residual blooms clouded the water still), we really enjoyed playing under the water - and at its edge. The Philippines has much to offer on the beach front, and we really should be taking more advantage of it.

A Manila Stay-cation

2011-12-27T21:36:00.000-08:00

We took this week off from work a few months back with the intention of taking a trip, maybe. We weren't really committed to going somewhere, but with both boys off of school, it seemed a logical time to travel. Not that we really think missing a day or two of school at ages 2 and 4 would make that much of a difference. We quickly learned that this is the peak week for travel in the Philippines, rivaling only the week before Easter. Which means prices for hotels can be 3x normal - and spending $300/night for only normal accommodations seemed ridiculous. A Manila stay-cation it would be.

This has left ample time for playing on the playground, seeing MI4, a two-day/one-night diving trip to Anilao, combo playdate-coffeedate with a mom or two of friends of the boys, scanning in paperwork for our condo rental and medical claims, filing papers, sorting old and new addresses, rewatching Lord of the Rings, and basically crossing all those annoying little things off of the list that I have wanted to do for nine months but never quite got around to.

I've resisted the urge to go shopping for a bunch of organizational type contraptions and such to sort toys and closets. While I'd love to tackle this project, it doesn't seem worth it to purchase things which fit in the small spaces of our current place, without knowing what the next place will be like. Muji and ContainerStore.com good bye.

The only thing this week hasn't entailed - which would normally be part of such an extended time at home - is cooking and baking. Not really sure why, but I'm just not in the mood for that this week. Luckily, we seem to have ample left overs from Christmas dinner and a few nights eating out, so no one is going hungry :)

What Goes Around, Comes Around

2011-12-21T03:58:00.000-08:00

I remember asking my mother one time why she was always inviting kids of old acquaintances over for dinner. She told me because she hoped that when I was far away in college, someone would keep an eye out for me. As it turned out, an old friend of my aunt's ended up living 10 minutes from my college - and she had a great garage for storing stuff during the summer. So, I guess my mom's plan worked out. A few dinners traded for summer storage.

On a foreign service listserv, I read a post about a family looking for temporary housing while their child was having followup surgery in DC. As it turned out, my sister was moving out of our condo a few days before this family planed to arrive in DC. And, when I explained the situation to my sister, she didn't mind the little bit of effort on her part to coordinate getting the keys and such to the family. A plan was hatched, and for about three weeks, the family - whom I've never met - was in our place. Thankfully, the surgery was successful and they were able to go to grandparents' home for Christmas.

I felt compelled to figure out how to make this work, because I knew exactly how the parents must have felt, even though - thankfully - I've never been in their situation (knock on wood!). Imagine living half way around the world, with the doctor that's been treating your child accessible only by email. You don't trust medical treatment where you are and firmly believe it's in the best interest of your child for the same doctor to continue with the course of treatment. You finally manage to get all the necessary insurance approvals and appointments clumped close enough together to have the trip back make logical sense (no small feat!).

But, then, where do you stay? A Residence Inn would be pretty expensive and you have no relatives living close by. So, you ask other families who live similarly nomadic lives, if anyone has advice, or perhaps even a place available for the budget you have. And keep your fingers crossed that the arrangements you make don't fall through at the last minute.

Thankfully, I think this family's stay at our place was not stressful. The linens were used and the pots and pans didn't match - but the basics, including internet, were there. Sure, it delayed by a month packing up our stuff and getting the repair work done on the condo before renting - and the rental fee received was minimal - but all I could think about is how much I would hope someone could help me were I in that situation. In this line of work, you end up relying a lot on your own family - and on the kindness of strangers.

Typhoon Washi

2011-12-19T04:10:00.000-08:00

Typhoon Pedring put the US Embassy on international news as the "floating embassy." Though damage and destruction ensued, it was nothing compared to Typhoon Washi which struck the southern Philippines this weekend. Six hundred dead and counting, on an island which already struggles to deal with rebel groups.

I heard a story at work today, which really hit home. A friend noticed during an interview that the family was from Mindanao and noted he was surprised they were able to come today for the interview.

The family responded that they thanked God their interview was scheduled today, as they had a few options for days they could have selected. They left their home earlier than originally intended, because they didn't want to risk missing their visa interview. This morning, they were able to reach someone they knew, who said all their neighbors were missing and the mud in their house was up to the ceiling. Were it not for the interview, they would have been home this last weekend. The unsaid ending to the story, of course, is that they would be missing along with all their neighbors.

I can't imagine what it will be like for that family, traveling back to Mindanao. I'm not even sure, were I in their position, if I would want to wait a few days, to let things calm down and hope that the aid agencies are able to control disease and deliver drinking water, or if I would want to rush back to try and salvage what was left of my life. Our underwater embassy was peanuts compared to this.

The Next Stage, Cemented

2011-12-16T06:42:00.000-08:00

I don't really think of myself as that old, but who ever does? I realized today, though, that I have firmly moved into the "next stage" of life. DINK really doesn't apply anymore. We may have had delusions in HYD, with only one young boy and babysitting so (comparatively) inexpensive, but such fantasies exist no more.

On the way home, a coworker (single, young, intelligent woman ... not unlike myself not so long ago - except Greg's been around since age 17 :) ) conversationally asked about my weekend plans. I thought about it, then said baking cookies for a cookie exchange, sewing a 70s costume for Wm's school play, preparing some snacks for the yaya to take to a Christmas party at Gymboree with Patch (while I'm at said cookie exchange), then a Lessons & Carols service on Sunday.

After a brief pause, she just looked at me with and expression that meant something along the lines of "wow. that is so completely totally different from my weekend, I don't even know where to start." And, since she didn't volunteer her weekend plans other than a vague mention of "holiday parties" (and since we were home), I didn't press it.

I've been thinking about it all evening, as I was cutting out sugar cookies and then searching online for a free sewing pattern for a vest. Really no going back anymore! Our lifestyle over the last five years has changed dramatically because of our job, but gradually because of the boys - the later without really realizing it.

Poor Patch

2011-12-12T05:46:00.000-08:00

I've heard it's common among little siblings, though I suppose I'd have to let Beth or Tracy confirm - Greg and I both being first children, we wouldn't know for sure (well, quasi-first in my case, I consider myself a first child who also has four older siblings, so whatever. Families are what you make of them!).

But, what I hear is common in kids is an unloving devotion from the younger child to the older one. Call it Monkey-See-Monkey-Do, or Idolization, or My Big Bro Taught Me All I Need to Know, or whatever - but Patch definitely suffers from it. Anything Kuya does, he wants to do. Anything Kuya has, he needs to have. Anytime Kuya yells at him for spoiling his toys, he apologizes (even if Wm is being unreasonable). Kuya is the be all, end all.

Tonight was a bit heart breaking for Patch. Since Feb, the two boys have shared a room. Mind you, Patch was 15 months in February, so Patch can't remember a time when he *didn't* sleep with Wm. But, tonight, Wm decided he didn't like how his toes touched the end of his bed when he stretched them out, so he refused to sleep in his bed and went to the guest room to sleep. Patch was miserable! He kept running to the door saying, "Kuya outside! Kuya outside!" and trying to open the door to let Wm in. Poor Patch. But Wm was resolute and stayed in the guest bedroom. (though, to his credit, he did get up to see why Patch was crying so much -- which, actually, only make things worse for Patch.)

Eventually, when I was able to calm Patch down enough, he realized he was really tired, and with the first normal deep breath, he practically fell asleep. So, they sleep in separate rooms tonight - and Greg has promised that he will modify the IKEA bed tomorrow after work to extend it for Wm. Otherwise, Patch might just have his heart broken.

*Kuya = Big Brother in Tagalog

Wm on Work

2011-12-10T05:15:00.001-08:00

We had a funny conversation with Wm this morning on our way to a breakfast with Santa. We were talking about how a new friend was going to come over on Monday, and Wm was very concerned that the new friend's driver knew where our house was. I explained that everyone at the Embassy knows where Seafront is, so I doubted the driver would get lost, bringing the boy over. Being a logical kid, Wm then asked if that kid's parents both worked at the Embassy, too, just like me and Greg.

I explained that his father did, but his mom stayed at home to take care of the house and children - that was her work. After a bit of silence, Wm asked, "You mean, not all parents go to work?" I said no. He said, "Oh, I thought all adults go to work just like all kids go to school."

Then he wanted to know how many yayas worked at the new friend's house. I told him one. He answered, "That's why his mom can't work. One yaya can't watch three kids! If they got another yaya, then his mom could go to work, too, like the other adults." (his new friend has two older twin sisters)

Then we moved onto more important topics, like what he was going to ask Santa for Christmas (a level crossing for his Thomas set, a parking lot, and a second double decker bus).

Managing Three Homes

2011-12-07T06:04:00.001-08:00

It's hard enough managing one home ... but this week has been full throttle managing all three places I can all claim as "home." No wonder I'm feeling like I'm not really living in the present.

First, there's the day-to-day home in Manila with all the normal day-to-day stuff that goes on like balancing one car with play date requests by the oldest son and dentist appointments for me (I won that one). Air conditioners making weird noises (immediate need to fix - I never want to be in an AC-free house here). Christmas bonus to pay the household staff, as well as keeping current on premiums for their social security and health care.

Then, there's my claimed residency in Texas. Not too much going on there, but I did have to write a check for property taxes and some initial capital repair expenses. Expected, but still means reading through a spreadsheet, making sure I understand everything, and assembling the check book, address, and stamps all at the same place. Sounds simple, but somehow it took me three days.

Finally, the transition of our rental condo in DC. We've been quite lucky having my sister rent it for the last four years. Sadly, that blissful nirvana came to an end on Nov 30. So, now I have to schedule packers/storage for the last things we left in there (after all, we don't own that much else ... and I dread the possibility of being assigned to DC next where I am responsible for furnishing my own house, and hemorrhaging cash as a result). And "interview" (over email) a property management company, to find someone who I think I can trust and who is a reliable email correspondent (given the time difference). And keep my fingers crossed the apartment rents quickly to a reliable tenant after the minor repair work is done.

We always live with a bit of a split brain - our assignments are temporary and defined from the beginning, it's impossible (for me, at least) to fully fall into life in the new city. This week, though, I feel like my brain is not just split, but exploded.

$600 Worth of Melons

2011-12-05T04:41:00.001-08:00

Saturday evening, I brought home an estimated $600 worth of Japanese melons. How, might you ask, did I come across these melons? And why, exactly, would I purchase them?

The good news is, I am not off my rocker. I did not actually spend $600 on six melons. I only spent PHP 6000 (about $140) for two tickets to the Consular Corps of Manila winter ball. Greg wore the same tux as he wore to the Marine Corps Ball last month, and my dress was only $60, so we're at a max expenditure for the evening of $200. A bit pricey, for sure, but that included an open bar, a delicious dinner at the Shangri-La Makati, and two raffle tickets.

The Consular Corps Ball is famous for its raffle prizes. This year's three grand prizes were two different four day cruises and a pair of round trip business class tickets to San Francisco. Personally, I would also have been happy with either of the Boracay vacation packages - or two nights in El Nido, one of the top resorts here. In addition to donated prizes, the Consul of each Embassy traditionally donates a raffle prize from his (yes, they were all men this year) country.** For example, the Austrian Consul donated a Swaroski crystal vase. Can you tell where this is going?

You guessed it! Each year, true to form, the Japanese Consul donates some sort of uber expensive fruit. This year, he donated two boxes of Shizuoka melons, flown in fresh that day from Japan, in the compartment of the plane and not the cargo hold, because the cold would ruin the sweetness. The heydays of the Japanese bubble economy have not completely disappeared, it seems.

Two years ago, my coworker won Fuji apples. Last year, Patch's classmate's dad won melons. For the last month, I've been talking about these melons. After all, I figured, even if we didn't win a grand vacation, there's always the melons. All the while quietly reminding myself that I never even won a cakewalk at my grandparents' church summer fair -- only Beth ever did.

Imagine my surprise when the first number called out was: 2 -- 8 -- 4! My number (or maybe Greg's, but I was holding both tickets, so I'm saying it was mine). The melons were mine! Six sweet melons, so sweet I could smell them sitting on the table about four feet below my nose. I even busted out a little Japanese chit chat when accepting my prize (to my amazement, no Telugu slipped out). The Japanese Consul seemed pleased with this and told me he was glad the melons were going to someone who would truly appreciate them.

When the evening ended, a fellow guest offered me a gift certificate to TGIFridays in exchange for a melon. Greg, disliking melons of all varieties, wanted to take him up on it, but I refused. Get your hands off my melons!

I spent Sunday periodically hunting around for information on these famously expensive melons. I found a great YouTube clip - an 8 minute Japanese TV special on Shizuoka melons - that explains it all. The melons had to be finished by today (a mere three days after receiving them), so I brought three into the office, warning my coworkers it would be 80 PHP / bite. Everyone agreed they were sweet and juicy and perhaps the best melon ever tasted, but, still, it's a melon. And one slice is about what a local employee spends on a week's worth of lunch!

Knowing I couldn't finish two melons this evening, I divided the last one in thirds between our three helpers. Greg, in his sarcastic tone, told them (as they were walking out the door) that he'd deduct it from their pay check this month. The poor ladies stopped short and starred at him - until he reassured them he was joking. Guess his sarcasm doesn't quite translate!

Patch, thinking

2011-11-28T05:17:00.001-08:00

I've known it for some time now, that the irrefutable moment will come after which I can no longer call Patch a baby. I may have avoided a few previous indications because it's a little sad when babies truly become thinking little people. Not overly sad, since they only get more interesting as they can think and talk more. But, still, more than a smidgen of sadness washed over me when I knew I had just witnessed the tipping point. Not a baby. Definitely a little kid.

I was able to put this moment off because Patch started talking a lot later than Wm. With no verbalization, I found it quite easy to pretend that he still was a baby, using his limited baby sign language and grunting. Whether from just being part of his own personal development timeline, or being a few months older, or having heard much more English-only for 11 months, or being in his playschool for two months -- his talking has recently skyrocketd. Case in point: yesterday, Patch said, "Let's go gala!" (gala = go around outside in Tagalog). Me: "Where should we go gala?" Patch: "Gala to the playground. Go get shoes!"

You'd think that would have been enough for me, right? But, no, I still deluded myself into thinking he was still my little baby Patch. Until this evening.

Wm was experimenting with the AC remote control, and Patch really wanted to try it out, too. Wm wanted nothing of his little brother interfering with his work, so when he finished setting the AC just so, he put the remote control back on the hook on the wall, which, conveniently, is just outside of Patch's reach.

Patch stomped around pouting for about one second and then ran out of the living room. We barely had time to ask where he went, when he returned from the bathroom carrying his stool. He promptly placed it under the AC remote, stepped up, and tried to take it down. At this point, Greg and I were flabbergasted, and Wm, never missing a beat, said: "Good idea, Patch!" Seems the big bro was so impressed at Patch's resourcefulness, he no longer minded Patch having a turn with the remote.

There you have it. I can't call a kid that stops pouting and crying and quickly finds a solution to his frustration a baby. No way.

(Greg's comment on reading this: Now, if only Patch would use the stool to go potty by himself...)

Inside and Outside the Gate

2011-11-23T20:17:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Two years ago in HYD, I was super crazy. With a month old baby, I invited 10 people over - with the extra help of my mom and two helpers, though, Greg and I managed quite fine. This year it's a bit easier: only 6 extra adults and Patch is two! Hence, the ability to write a blog post while simultaneously preparing a feast.

With a Butterball turkey and imported fresh cranberries at the store (and fresh pecans sent from Texas and brought by our friend visiting from the US), the meal should be quite traditional. The only deviation from the usual was having to cause a pumpkin to be roasted and pureed while I was at work yesterday. The pie looks great, though, so I'm sure it will be fine.

While driving around this morning, the juxtaposition between "inside" and "outside" our compound gate was quite amusing. Inside is very quiet - everyone is either traveling or cooking! The offices at Seafront are closed (obviously), so the extra work-related traffic is zero. The inactivity (or invisible activity - probably the kitchens are a hub of activity) feels like Thanksgiving Day.

Outside, though, traffic is raging, and actually a bit heavier than usual. After all, no Thanksgiving here! All it takes is crossing through our armed double gate. Thanksgiving on one side, normal Manila on the other. Greg and our visitor ventured into Intramuros this morning, so I'm sure the difference will be even more pronounced for them.

Co-parent

2011-11-23T05:44:00.001-08:00

I run across some interesting words, living in countries where English is widely spoken and often used as the "link language" where so many dialects persist. Filipino English and American English are, of course, mutually intelligible, but every now and then a word pops out that takes me some time to fully understand.

William's school uses the word "co-parent" in most of its communication home. Today's letter was addressed in the singular, inviting the reader to attend a workshop on Friday morning with a visiting American Montessori consultant. It concluded by encouraging the reader to bring along his or her co-parent.

As background, family here is much more fluid than in the U.S. With so many OFW (overseas Filipino workers), it is not uncommon for children grow up with only one biological parent at home, or, if both parents are OFWs, with grandparents or aunts or uncles as the primary caregivers. In addition, at the visa window, I observe all kinds of family situations. Divorce is illegal in the Philippines, and many don't seek or can't obtain an annulment. So, a separated person might meet another partner, have children with the new partner in addition to children from the legal marriage, and all live together as a family - except the parents in the new family aren't technically married. So the new partner can't technically be a parent of the child from the first (still legal) marriage.

Over the last few months, I've gotten the sense that "co-parent" helps out in these situations, referring to whomever the parent thinks of as his or her primary support in the act of parenting - it is a broader term than spouse, doesn't have the sometimes negative association that comes with "stepparent," and acknowledges the nurturing role a live-in partner plays even if that relationship is not legal.

I'm curious if it also applies to the extended parenting roles that are necessitated by OFW parents. For instance, consider this highly unlikely (but theoretically possible) situation. I go on an unaccompanied assignment, leaving Greg and the boys (not my plan, but just for instance). Greg's sister ends up working at a school in the same city as his assignment. Feeling pity on him, she moves in to help with the boys. Would she, then, be considered a "co-parent" for that short period of time? Or does it have to be longer?

Americans, at least in my experience, have a very set and comparatively narrow definition of "parent." In my opinion, it doesn't seem to extend beyond the bio-parent, step-parent, or adoptive-parent. The idea of a "co-parent," though, intrigues me, especially in light of the extended absence of an OFW parent. Greg's TDY really made me appreciate having two parents - as a single parent, I had to be "on" all the time. Were he gone for three years, I might appreciate my sister or brother or own parent filling in as a co-parent.

Baby Shower!

2011-11-19T04:34:00.001-08:00

When I was pregnant with Patch, the Americans at the consulate all got together for a potluck lunch and baby shower. We had only 18 American employees at the time (two of whom were me and Greg!), and a baby was a big deal! Patch would increase the total number of dependent children at post from four to five - 25%!

Embassy Manila seems to have an explosion of pregnant women and small babies. I have no idea if it's always like this or if something funny is going on at the embassy water purifier plant. For instance, at Seafront alone, we have four pregnant moms and at least six kids two or under. Baby central!

Remembering how happy I was to have someone offer to throw me a baby shower (people sometimes forget for second pregnancies), I offered to host for my pregnant neighbor-coworker. Well, actually, I asked a friend if she could host at her townhouse, since Patch still needs a nap. So, one friend opened her home and cooked, I did games/prizes/party favors, and everyone else came along for the fun (and brought a small dish to share).

Comparing with my shower in HYD, today's party was a very normal American baby shower. All the baby clothes and toys - even those locally purchased - looked like they could have come from any baby store in the U.S. I remembered my most-used gift from Patch's shower: a small carry along bassinet. My friends scoured the city looking for what I described and eventually found one made in China with undecipherable English letters on it. We used it daily, but always wondered what exactly was written above the embroidered bear.

I could find all the materials I needed for my games at one department store and one drugstore - as I was shopping, I was very much appreciating the convenience of this; in HYD, I probably would have had to visit at least four stores in at least two different sections of town and definitely could not have left the shopping to the night before.

I try to appreciate Manila for itself, but I still can't help but see it through HYD-colored-glasses. I laugh that I compare it to HYD instead of TX or DC. And wonder - when we move to the next city in a year and a half, where ever that may be - will I compare that new place to Manila? Or HYD? Or by then will I be so confused will I be able to experience it without comparison.

Good morning orangutan!

2011-11-12T21:34:00.001-08:00

We took a family outing one morning to the Arc Avilon Zoo, where the animals are up close and personal. Patch was brave enough to shake hands with the orangutan, but Wm stayed as far away as he could. The birds of prey just hanging out on their perches also kind of freaked him out.

The petting zoo on the second floor offered a chance to feed carrots to bunnies and greens to the goats. We both assumed the boys would be entranced by the farm animals - Wm used to love the petting zoo at the National Zoo - but the playground ended up winning the award for where we spent the most time. Not even a glance at the peacocks or guinea fowl.

All in all, not a bad small zoo. The cages were small and looked boring for the animals, but well maintained and the animals appeared healthy, pretty good for a private zoo in Manila. I'm not sure if we'll go back, since we ended up only spending about 1.5 hours there, but the diversion from our usual home-bound-with-one-trip-to-MOA weekend routine was welcome

Watching, unobserved

2011-11-12T21:09:00.001-08:00

Last Sunday, the children's Sunday school teacher commented, as we were dropping them off, how good Wm was watching out for Patch. Normal mode of operation in our house is for Greg or me to be playing referee to unending games of tackle or chase, so this side of Wm I had not yet observed.

Interesting, that Sunday, the Sunday school room had just been painted the day before and the fumes were still too strong (we didn't bother asking why a church decided to paint on a Saturday and not a Monday). Thus, Sunday school was moved to the veranda, across the courtyard from the sanctuary. Our church was built in 1958, probably pre-air conditioning, so the sanctuary "walls" are actually floor to ceiling sliding class doors - now, of course, closed with modern central air - but providing a clear (and distracting) view from the sanctuary across the courtyard, to the Sunday school veranda.

Throughout the service, I kept sneaking peaks out to watch the kids and see how their mornings proceeded. First, as their class was starting, I saw Patch run away from the tables to the fountain in the courtyard. After all, at 90 degrees with 80% humidity, wouldn't you want to play in the fountain. Then Wm, watching from the edge of the veranda paving stones, looked concerned. Teacher was calling both of them back to worship, but Patch obviously wasn't interested. I couldn't hear, but I watched the big brother gesture emphatically, and Patch finally run across the grass to his kuya.

A little while later I checked how their kids service was progressing. At some point in the intervening 10 minutes, Wm had pulled Patch's chair right in front of his own, so that he sat with his legs straddling Patch's chair and both hands on Patch's shoulders. I guess he didn't want to take any chances of the fountain luring the small brother away.

Perhaps I should have been focusing more on our service, but I don't usually have a chance to watch the boys with my presence unobserved. Of course, the usual mayhem broke out an hour later at home.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Patch!

2011-10-29T06:57:00.000-07:00

Patch can claim one victory over Wm, despite being the younger brother. He has had a proper party every birthday. Wm, sadly, missed out on parties for ages 2 and 3 – with moving and travelling, I guess we didn’t feel like it. Or maybe it was the lack of kids his age at the consulate. In any case, at least Patch cannot (yet) feel neglected as the younger child.

Patch’s usual Seafront buddies are traveling for the long weekend, so we invited the five kids in his new preschool class over to the playground for a low key get together. I also planned ahead enough to get a tricycle to come to the party. Not a Radio Flyer trike, but a true Manila trike. I.e., a side car attached to a motorcycle! Technically, these are off limits for embassy personnel due to security concerns (both road safety and purse safety). So, this took some advance planning on our part.

First hurdle: most trike drivers don’t speak English. I thus sent our driver out to Harrison Street to watch for “nice looking” trikes. I didn’t want one where the seat upholstery was torn or so dirty no one would want to sit in it. Luckily, Harrison St, right outside the backdoor of Seafront, is a prime trike and jeepney thoroughfare. This meant we could catch a driver on his usual route and not have to pay extra for transportation.

Next: negotiation, again handled by our driver. Once word gets out that some crazy American woman is looking to hire a trike for a birthday party, the price goes up. This is actually why we settled on a trike – my first idea was to hire a jeepney. But, I wasn’t going to pay $50. A trike for $12 + tip was much more in line with my expectations. Patrick is only two, after all!

Third: security clearance. Not joking! A drawback of living on the compound is that everything is subject to security review. After submitting two forms of ID and all plate numbers, the security office got back to me in about a week that everything was clear and the driver would be permitted to enter at the Roxas (main) gate. Whoo hoo!

I crossed my fingers this morning that everything would go as planned, and, at 1:45, the trike driver showed up – early! Amazing! Greg and our nanny went to escort him over to the party area, and the trike (which I had not yet seen) was just as promised. I even think that the driver cleaned it for the occasion, because the cab was shining like a mirror.

The party was fun for the adults because I don’t think any of the parents knew each other – or at a minimum had only met in passing. And everyone was from a different section of the embassy, so work couldn’t dominate conversation. No one had ridden a trike before, so even the parents had fun on the mini rides around the compound. Our nanny’s chocolate cake was tasty as usual, sweetening the celebration. Though the morning had been hot and steamy, by afternoon it was like a pleasant early summer day in Austin (yes, I know it’s October 29, but we’re in Manila!). What a great afternoon birthday celebration.

Not a useless day

2011-10-23T04:34:00.000-07:00

It's about 7:30. I was thinking today was kind of a useless day, and said as much to Greg. After all, I didn't cross one thing off my "to do" list - not even trying to call more piano teachers which I promised myself on Friday I would do this weekend.

Wm and I woke up with pretty bad head colds and scratchy voices, so church was out. Greg took the boys for a morning playground visit, followed by Wm taking a long bike ride around the compound while I walked with him (checking out the generator and fork lifts, his favorites).

After deciding I would actually cook dinner, Wm and I went to Hypermarket. I don't visit it too often - I am really put off by the entire aisle of Spam and two aisles devoted to chips and cookies - but if I stick to the two or three aisles with food I'll actually purchase, it's a good little grocery store. Greg cooked grilled cheese for lunch while I prepped the marinade for dinner.

Quick nap in the afternoon. Then some more play time before assembling the kabobs for the grill. Interspersed throughout the day - taking Patch to the potty every two hours, resulting in only one small accident today.

We did have to spend about 30 minutes cleaning up the grill. I've seen cats hanging out around it, which is a bit gross. Considering, however, that this big built in communal charcoal grill is about 10 feet from our apartment, we figured we might as well use it. Take advantage of what we have, is the idea. Neighbors who just returned from pregnancy-medevac stopped by with their new six week old baby boy - what a treat to see the tiny baby!

The day didn't accomplish much from either an "experience Manila" or "shorten to do list" perspective, but Greg's right, it wasn't useless. Just quiet and in-house focused :)

Looking at the numbers, and thinking

2011-10-17T05:47:00.000-07:00

I was looking at the number of blog posts - in 2009 it averaged about 7 posts/month. In 2010 about 5. 2011 is low at just over 4 posts. Still at one / week, but not very good for the faithful readers. Greg's guest blogging in September helped boost the averages!

But, it made me think about why it's lower this year. Is it because I'm too busy with two kids? Because I'm living on the compound and not really out and about as much to experience the local culture? Because the Philippines doesn't seem as exotic and strange after India? Because in general I've become slightly immune to the new and strange after almost four years overseas?

Another thought sprung to mind, too. I still miss India and our friends in HYD a lot. Maybe I'm subconsciously not allowing myself to learn as much about life here because then leaving Manila won't be as hard. Meaning, I'm going about normal daily life and learning the basics to make myself comfortable enough, but not permitting the culture to get under my skin. Or put another way, I can pretty much navigate Mall of Asia and find the stores I want - but have very little knowledge about the hidden shopping gems in the city.

Part of it certainly has to do with language acquisition, or lack there of. We spent eight months learning Telugu and about Indian history and culture. Comparatively, we spent zero days learning Tagalog, and our cultural training was a two week overview course on all of South East Asia. We came in behind, compared to our arrival in HYD.

I haven't decided if this distance between me and Manila is good or bad. I don't think I will be able to decide until we leave.

Or, perhaps I'm over thinking. It could be something as simple as personality fit. Maybe I just clicked with India, in a way I haven't with the Philippines. Just like with people, these things can't always be explained.

Travelogue: Baguio

2011-10-16T04:40:00.001-07:00

I spent 2.5 days in Baguio, The City of Pines, for work. When the Ambassador or DCM takes a trip outside Manila, usually a junior officer joins to help handle trip logistics; this weekend I volunteered for "control officer" duty. Depending on the scale of the trip and meetings involved, more people might attend, too. This trip started on one side of the US government fiscal year (14 October) and ended in the new fiscal year (16 October) - given the uncertain budgetary environment, we made do with a "small footprint."

This was possible because the US Embassy Manila maintains a residence in Baguio: http://manila.usembassy.gov/wwwhamb1.html The residence is absolutely beautiful, and completely what I expected from the "summer capital" residence of the former Governor-General. It also holds an interesting part in WWII history as where General Yamashita surrendered the Japanese forces in the Philippines in 1945. Because of that, many swear the house is haunted; some staff refuse to stay in the main residence, preferring the bunk accommodations in one of the secondary buildings. History is tangible in this building, and I'm happy not only that the State Department maintains it - but also that it allows any employee of the embassy (officer or locally engaged staff) to rent rooms when not used for official business.

The city is about 5000 feet above sea level, and thus much cooler than the majority of the Philippines. The altitude also contributes to daily afternoon fog, reducing visibility to about 50 feet or less. This morning, I woke up to crystal clear skies, but when I looked out my bedroom window, a blanket of clouds hung about 10 feet below the residence's ridge, as if we were floating in the sky. An image of Valhalla immediately sprung to mind.

The city itself is divided in half. Part functions like any large town/small city in the Philippines. SM shopping mall is the most popular attraction, small eateries and shops selling a wide variety of goods line twisted streets. Jeepneys are vividly painted (unlike in Manila).

The other part belongs to the wealthy - two gorgeous golf clubs, with all the accouterments. No jeans allowed in there - thankfully, not certain what the dress code would be, I had packed a pair of chinos and a pair of slacks, either of which could be dressed up or down depending on the top ... so I wasn't kicked out of the club :)

Not having golfed since college PE class, I set out on a walk while the Ambassador had some meetings on the links. An inadvertent wrong turn ended up taking me on a loop from the residence to the city center and back - 2.5 hours later! Thankfully, I did manage to reach the goal I had when I set out: Narda's Boutique.

Narda Capayun, a local designer, has updated traditional ikat weaving designs to appeal to modern tastes - and supplied women in remote locations with looms to weave as they have time. I had seen an ikat weaving demonstration in HYD, so I wanted to see the differences with the Philippine version. I left with a lighter pocketbook, but a heavy bag to carry back home!

I think I enjoyed Baguio so much because of the palpable character. Our past family vacation trips have all been to beaches, which, while enjoyable, don't imbue the same feeling as staying in a historically relevant house, visiting with local people who have devoted their life to serious social problems, and enjoying a surreal natural setting on top of that. The weekend was work, but of the enjoyable and educational sort.

Street People

2011-10-12T04:40:00.000-07:00

Not only cities in developing or mid-income countries have street people - DC certainly has its share of homeless people. But in Manila, like Hyderabad, homeless people - especially homeless families - are much more visible than back home. In both places, beggars knocking on our car windows are/were common at certain intersections.

Wm first became aware of the beggars at about age 3.5. I explained then that we give money to help poor people to organizations, like church, which help distribute things that people made. Sometimes he would ask why the people didn't go ask for help. I didn't really have an answer, and told him so.

Since coming to Manila, we've been attending church with much more regularity. I didn't think the Sunday school was much, but yesterday evening I learned he must be learning something, because he asked why the beggars don't pray to God for food, because God should give people food when they're hungry.

We had a discussion about how praying for something doesn't mean you get it - for example, Wm hadn't received all the engines and train cars he would like. But then he astutely pointed out that those are just toys. The people knocking on our car doors were hungry, and that was different.

He's right, of course. And, I admit, I was proud he recognized the distinction. But that didn't mean I had an answer. I just said we'd have to keep helping places like church to try and get food to poor people. It's just too bad there are so many who need help. Maybe if the people prayed, they would some how figure out how to get to a church that was serving food. For now, that answer sufficed.

Eventually, though, questions will keep getting harder. I'll have to keep on working at (and keep on learning myself) how to teach them to be compassionate and aware, but also safe and responsible. It's possible to "not see" the poverty if you want; but it's equally easy to become nearly paralyzed by the devastation. Striking a balance is tricky.

Final thoughts

2011-09-29T11:34:00.001-07:00

As my days in Ghana draw to a close, I thought I'd put some thoughts down about the experience. First and foremost, on the whole it's been positive. This sort of short assignment is a great way to break the monotony of an otherwise dreary eight months doing IVs in Manila. Sure, NIVs in Accra aren't the most fascinating thing in the world, but at least they're different, and that counts for a surprising amount in this line of work. One of my favorite things about TDY assignments is that you get to meet an Embassy full of new people. The connections you find to them are a vivid reminder of just how small the Foreign Service is - virtually no one is more than a degree or two removed from any other given person. I'm sure I'll come across some of these people again, and hopefully I've left a good impression here. Even if I don't meet the same people again, I've expanded my "corridor reputation" - name recognition, in other words. And of course that glosses over the obvious positive of spending time with new, interesting people. As for the work itself, it's not all that different than NIVs in India or Manila, but it's immesurably valuable to hear new perspectives on the same questions you've asked a thousand times in a different place. India and the Philippines are both known as high-fraud countries (as far as visas go), but west Africa takes it to a whole new level. And even the people who are honest in their interviews have been found to be far more likely to misuse their visas than Indians and Filipinos. This gives the officers an entirely new slant on their evaluations, and results in an extraordinary level of jade and bitterness by the end of two years. Nevertheless, on the whole they leave this post with a positive impression of the place. I had never spent much time thinking about Africa, and I've found that I like it here more than I expected. One of my new friends here asked today whether I found Ghanaian culture more interesting than Philippine (which, to me, is relatively uninteresting, particularly after two years in the cauldron of wonder and mystery that is India). I wasn't sure what to say. Am I more interested in African culture? Not particularly. Yet I find the city a more interesting place to live, for a month at least. Perhaps that's because it's easier here to escape the chain-store sterility that pervades Manila. Perhaps it's because, while Filipinos are an outrageously happy people who never stop smiling, I've found Ghanaians more prone to start a conversation. So - a positive experience? Definitely. Would I do it again? Maybe. It's tough being away from home and family for so long. I think a month is the long end of what I'd do again on a voluntary basis; two weeks is probably a better amount of time. Having said all that, there's no better way to make you appreciate what you've got than to be away from it for a while. Absence, as they say...

the Floating Embassy

2011-09-29T04:13:00.001-07:00

It's international news - my embassy was totally flooded on Tuesday by Typhoon Pedring. Go to google maps and check out our location: landfill granted to the USgovernment by the emerging Philippines government in 1939 (or was it 1936? I'll have to check my cheat sheet at the office). The chancery building was completed in 1941, well before modern architecture practices.

On Tuesday we had a big surprise. In the past, typhoons dumped a lot of rain, and the fresh rain water deluge came at the embassy from the east, causing a mess, but nothing like this time. This time, the rain was comparatively minimal, but the winds were unexpectedly strong - right at high tide. I was driving into the office along Roxas Blvd, and it seemed the promenade and disappeared and the sea waves were washing onto the road. Traffic police started a detour a few blocks further inland.

I continued to drive, to try and get to work. After all, living only a mile away, I figured I would have the easiest time of it. And, if any visa applicants managed to make it in,they deserved to be interviewed, given the expense and trouble. So, I continued meandering through the red light district of Malate, learning more about the embassy's neighborhood than I had before ...

I was about two blocks from work when a text came saying the embassy was closed and anyone en route should go home. Not really enjoying driving in flooded streets, I was only too happy to comply with instructions. Thankfully, my friend Caroline was with me, so we had a nice chat while continuing turning this way and that to keep heading towards home, but also trying to avoid steers with deep flooding. We saw an open bakery and stopped for some pandesel (sweet yeast rolls) just in case we were stuck for a bit.

When I got home, I had a text from a friend who left for work about 5 min before me that he was stuck! The bay had come over the wall and water was waist high in the embassy compound. Eventually, they figured out how to get a motor pool van close enough that people could wade though waist deep water to the shuttle home; most people, understandably , did not want to attempt to drive their cars out.

Some people lost shoes - either from the current or water damage - and a few people had some abrasions and rashes (from polluted water), but given recent news about attacks on our embassy in Kabul, this flood is no big deal. Still, With sudden storm surges, one worries about the worst ....

Life was back to normal at the consular office today. Not so much for other offices which sustained flood damage, but our brand new annex building held up for the storm.

I was amazed at the great job the city government did cleaning up the main streets. On my way in today, all the trash was cleared and dirt and paving stones were separated and piled on the side of the road. By the time I went home. The broken parts of the retaining wall had been sandbagged, and vendors were already out selling drinks and snacks along the promenade. Quick recovery, given that part of the city had been under 3 to 4 feet of water with who knows what washing in from the bay.

Monkey Business

2011-09-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

I'm the easy part. All these visa applicants I talk to every day pay my salary, at $140 a pop. Funding for my position? No problem. But what about all this "development aid" that goes abroad? What happens to all of that? I got a close-up look today.

I went with a couple of other Embassy people to a town a few hours' drive from Accra, in Ghana's Volta Region. The low scrub of the flatlands was ringed by lush, green mountains (small mountains, yes, but the biggest this country has to offer). There were plenty of villages, but not a city to be found, and not many people at all in between the villages.

The goal was a village called Tafi Atome, where we had heard that the monkeys eat right out of your hand. That turned out to be no exaggeration. In fact, it could have used some embellishment; I assumed you just handed the monkey a banana and watched it eat. But the first time I tried that, our guide admonished me for giving the entire fruit to the greedy monkey. He showed us how to hold the banana tightly in the middle, so the monkey had to work to get the peel off and eat it. The right way, he showed us, was to hold the banana in a hand extended at a right angle, with the arm two to three feet from a tree - just far enough that the monkey couldn't reach it from the tree. The result: the monkeys, just a bit smaller than a house cat, jump from the tree right onto your arm and sit there as they dig the banana out of your fist.

I was a bit nervous about this at first. Most of my monkey experience, after all, is in India, where they are foul, obnoxious beasts that steal and attack at every opportunity. I still enjoy repeating the story about the Delhi deputy mayor who died after he was pushed from his balcony by a pack of angry apes. But these Ghanaian monkeys, called mona monkeys, were so cute you could hardly imagine them being mean. They were clearly not quite certain that we meant well, but they also clearly weren't threatened by our presence, and never seemed inclined to strike at us. I was surprised that, even with the whole weight of the animal on my arm and its mouth and hands digging into my hand, I never felt a claw or a tooth. The hands and feet felt more like a person's, where there's a nail instead of a claw, and the part that was touching me was soft as a human finger or toe. It was a unique experience, and all three of us had a lot of fun with it.

What does all of this monkey business have to do with the US government? The monkeys have been in the village for generations - but it was us (along with several other countries) who helped them turn it into a business. "Ecotourism" is a well-known word in that part of Ghana. We paid about $5 for a guide to take us through the woods behind the village, where the monkeys live. They were selling tshirts and other knick-knacks to the tourists. And of course we never would have been there in the first place without the monkeys, so whatever food, fuel, etc, we bought was driven by tourism. The villagers seem to get that.

Back in the 1990s, a couple of Peace Corps volunteers, supported with stipends from the US government, worked with the villagers to set up the paths and other infrastructure to allow them to run the program. USAID money assisted to form the community-supported organization that administers the sanctuary. And on the way back we saw a sign thanking the US Millennium Challenge Corporation for funding for the smooth paved road connecting the village to Accra, without which no tourist would be able to reach the place. All those Americans working on the project have left a village that appreciates the assistance it's received from the US, and looks more favorably on us as a result. Coke, Shell, and the other American and western companies that sell in the region have more tourists as customers and more locals who can afford to buy their products.

Visas are great, but every once in a while it's nice to see that we're actually doing something really good.

Learned at school

2011-09-19T05:39:00.000-07:00

Wm's been at his school for 5 months now, and seems to be in the swing of things. After some false starts in HYD, we landed at Sloka which we loved - and still miss! Wm's school here is pretty good; really the only thing I'm not so wild about are the birthday parties with presents required at school.

I am still, surprised, though, at some of the things Wm has picked up. For instance:
- if you're upset about something, next time that happens, you can try laughing and see if it makes it better
- if you practice material with teacher every day, you'll get better at it
- it's a good thing to have your mom and dad proud of you and you should try not to disappoint them

Usually these thoughts of his are prefaced by "Teacher told me..." so I know where the new ideas are coming from. Right now, I can tell he's really wanting to figure out letters and words and must be a bit frustrated, because that's when he made the comment about "practicing new material" and working with the letter box. Kudos to his teacher for turning the frustration into positive work effort. Hopefully that will stick with him.

The respecting parents bit is ok, but definitely stronger and with a more Asian slant than we'd come across in a WASPy preschool in the US, I think. Hopefully it won't leave him with a complex. I'm no where near being a "tiger mom," so home life will mitigate any concerns I have there, I hope.

Ballet in Manila

2011-09-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

I had heard at an event here that the Philippines is crazy about ballet and I was sure to have ample opportunity to see ballet. The season didn't start until July, though, so i couldn't get started on the project right away. Then I was in India for the start.

In August, we scored a fee pair of tickets through work. While each piece was enjoyable - the evening was a bit disjointed and it felt a bit like a recital, than at a professional event. One piece by a local choreographer to power ballad music was danced well and offered a great view into adapting a Western art form to local preference - the audience certainly loved it. Personally, I couldn't stand the music.

After slight disappointment that evening, which ran about 45 minutes too long, I wanted to try a different company. Every morning we drive by the CCP, Manila's main theatre - when Cinderella was advertised on the event board, I wanted to go. It took some time to find a "date", since Saturday was the same night as a big charity cabaret fundraiser. But, one friend came through. We had a fun ladies night out to dinner and the to the ballet.

I came home to google who wrote the music (Prokofiev) and fine more about the dancers (not much luck there). What I did discover,though is that this city has three ballet companies, two of which preform at CCP. I'm sure there's a story there!

The real moral of the story is to always get someone's business card. Had I done that at the event I was at in April when I was first told about the ballet scene, then I would know someone who knew the answer.

Plugging in

2011-09-16T14:23:00.001-07:00

I've been trying for a week and a half to get Armed Forces Network to work on the tv in this house. Until now, I thought that it would be as simple as plugging in the box to the television.

Sadly, the plus on the wall doesn't match the one on the box. So a standard cable is out. I spent the better part of an hour last week trying to find something that would fit. My wild goose chase took me to tiny roadside shacks, sketchy electronics stores whose wares I'd rather not know the provenance of, and one slightly alarming occassion in which I was directed to a windowless room several doors and an alley removed from the street. Somehow or other, though, that room contained someone who pointed me towards a shack where I was certain to find the parts I needed. That shack didn't exist, but a shop around the corner did, and there I found Daniel, who, after a solid twenty minutes of explanation, finally understood what I was looking for. Ok, even Daniel needed two tries to get it right. But in the end I walked out with exactly what I asked for. I had even found a Ghana Black Stars soccer jersey in XL. It had been a good day.

I walked in to the house in a good mood. I got out my cable. It fit perfectly into the box. Then I went to plug it into the wall and - blast! I had gotten the wrong piece on the end. Oh well, I thought to myself, at least I found a Black Stars shirt. I tried it on. At least two sizes too small.

A few days later I went back to Daniel. He was nice enough to replace the connector at no cost (I gave him the wrong one back, and he was probably eager to get me out of his shop anyway). I took my newly repaired cable home and plugged it in. I turned to the box-tv cord. Having secured it to the box, I turned around to put it in the tv and - blast! Wrong kind of plug again!

Back to Daniel I went. It was 4pm on a Friday, so I have no idea where he was but my friend was not in his shop. In fact, the whole place was locked up. Maybe he had anticipated my return and fled the scene. I have no idea. But, armed with the cable he had already made me and needing an exact replica, I felt certain that I could just show it to people and get the right thing made. Indeed I could. This time one of the roadside shacks did the trick. The guy even demonstrated the quality of his handiwork by putting an electrical current through the copper coax and using it to light up a bulb mounted to a piece of plywood. It was an impressive sight. Almost as impressive as the hen and chick pecking around on the sidewalk, or the herd of goats that rambled down the street, or the mysterious fellow in a Penn hoodie who walked down the other side of the road as I waited for my cable to be assembled. (Was he an alum, or did he find a used sweatshirt in a shop in the market? This will forever remain a mystery.)

Bringing the cable home, I was optomistic this time. I knew it would fit, and it did. I turned on the box. Lights: a good sign. The tv started to warm up, and - blast! The television answer to the blue screen of death. Nothing.

At least I'm now the proud owner of a XXXL Black Stars shirt.

Back at the home front

2011-09-10T06:01:00.000-07:00

It's pretty quiet; we're settling into a good routine. The day's go quickly since Wm has decided he needs to be asleep by 7, which means start brushing teeth at 6:30. Tonight, when Patch was having difficulty settling down, I heard through the bedroom door: "Patch, it's nighttime. you need to sleep so you have enough energy to play tomorrow."

I laughed- Greg and I had said that almost verbatim to Wm countless times over the years, back in the days when Wm used to scream himself to sleep every night. thank goodness we have kuya (big brother) to help settle Patch down and avoid those terrible bedtime fits. (knock on wood!)

The only real difference is that Patch is starting to put a few words together into thoughts. Like Wednesday when he came to pick me up from work. I climbed in the car and he asked, "No Dada?" it was kind of cool to see that he expected Greg, recognized he wasn't there, and figured out the words to express what he was thinking. The baby days are gone for real now, I think. Especially since this evening, he went and sat on his potty and told me, "close door" like Wm says. When he knocked on the door a few minutes later, it was a successful trip. Maybe it's time to try potty training for real...

We have a vegetable garden that Lea and the boys are tending. Okra and squash, I think, are our first experiment. The seeds sprouted, so hopefully veggies will come! And some basil and mint growing by our front door.

We're fully moved in now - I had the living room painted sage green, and it looks great. I might see if I can convince someone to add some shelves in the laundry room and more towel rods in the bathrooms, but otherwise, we're done settling in. Now to enjoy the next 18 months before we pickup and start over again in some unknown location.

It's more lonely being home, I think, than being the one traveling. Abroad, there's always something new to see - whether grascutters at an African market or rows of silk at an Indian expo. At home, though, I think more about missing the usual routine and chit chat after toe boys go to sleep. It's quiet!

Plunging in

2011-09-10T04:53:00.001-07:00

Remember yesterday I was impressed by how many foreigners there were around here? How the food was served in holes-in-the-wall? I was cured of this today - today some impressions of what one might call "the real Africa".

I went to the Makola Market today. I'll admit, it was not quite was I expected. I'd been to markets before, in India and the Middle East. If I might say so, this one put them to shame. First of all, it's far larger than any Indian market I've been to or any souk I've wandered in the Arab world. I took a taxi there and he took me to the edge of the market, then asked where I was going. "No idea," I shrugged. I paid my fare and got out. I saw a sign that said "Makola Mall". In I plunged. Finally, the crowds I expected. The exoticism I imagined. Strange and unexpected things around every corner. To be clear, a "mall" it was not. Instead, there was aisle after aisle of stalls, at first selling the junk you find in many developing-world markets. Cheap dishes, cloth, pots, beaten-up electronics.

Eventually I reached the food section, which seemed even bigger. Happily the ground was mostly dry; I can't imagine what it would have smelled like had there been pools of stagnant water. There were plenty of fish, but not a shaving of ice. The crabs came in several varieties, and were still alive, climbing on top of each other as they tried to escape their prisons inside plastic tubs. Piles of pink pigs' feet and more stacks of an unidentified red meat. I slowed down to take a closer look at those; I stopped when I got to the snails. They were also still alive, crawling around on top of other snails' fist-size shells. No, I'm not exaggerating, and no, I've never seen anything like it. "Do you eat them?" I asked. "Yes, want to buy some?" the hawker replied. "No, thanks, but can I take a picture?" She wanted money from me. I took no pictures. Still, the snails were probably only the second most shocking things in the market.

I only saw it once, but I couldn't keep walking when I saw the pale brown rodent the size of a small cat (for the Indian readers, it was about the size of an Indian bandicoot, complete with the giant front teeth). The creatures were dead, to be sure - hacked in half by one clean cut from what must have been a rather large machete. Seeing my stare, the vendor asked if I wanted to buy any. "What is it?" I asked. "Bush meat: grasscutter." I kept staring. The vendor's friend laughed at her and said, "You asked him if he wanted to buy any, now he's going to stare for a while longer." I've eaten bush meat before - nice big animals like kudu, ostrich, wildebeest. I shan't be sampling the grasscutter any time soon.

Sadly, I didn't get any pictures, even though I had my camera in my pocket. I had read and heard several warnings about how Ghanaians don't like to be photographed. I had also been warned that the police will come quickly if they see someone photographing a government building, and of course I had no idea which were government buildings. Most significantly, I was alone in the middle of a big crowded city. On one hand, the crowd made me feel safer - no dark lonely alleys here. On the other hand, crowds in poor countries like this can become mobs quickly. I had no desire to be at the center of one of those, so I kept as low a profile as my white skin would allow. Luckily, I'm not the first one to visit the place, and there are plenty of pictures online. Oh, and foreigners? None. It was about as much Africa as I could take for one morning, and after about an hour of wandering, I found a cab and returned to the relative comfort and familiarity of the posh side of town.

Under African Skies

2011-09-09T12:19:00.000-07:00

After not coming within 10 years or 1,000 miles of Ghana in 2011, I've now been in Africa for just over three days, so it seems like as good a time as any to put down some of my thoughts. First thing: it's definitely a step behind both India and the Philippines. Ghana is generally known as one of the more successful and progressive of the sub-Saharan African countries (excepting South Africa, which "Africa people" don't seem to consider a proper African country at all). Still, the first thing that struck me on landing at the airport was that, within just a few miles of the capital and largest city, half the roads appeared unpaved. I went to India for the first time in 2005 expecting to find unpaved roads, candlelit homes, and streets filled with cows. Err, ok, so the bovines are there in herds, but unpaved streets in or around a major Indian city? Not a chance.

The biggest thing to happen in Accra this month was the recent opening of a KFC. As far as I can tell, this is Ghana's first outlet of a western fast-food chain. I also struggle to recall seeing a local equivalent, a west African Jollibee. Instead, there are tiny streetside restaurants galore, little more than holes in walls with dusty floors and rickety wooden tables and chairs that look like they're about to fall over under the weight of a plantain. (Incidentally, I sampled the fare at KFC and was pleasantly surprised to find that it tastes like KFC. Not bad.)

On the flipside, while it was often difficult to find a face from outside South Asia in India, central Accra has no shortage of foreigners. I ran into Lebanese, Pakistanis, Filipinos, and various types of white people in just a couple of hours today, not to mention what I'm sure were a dozen different flavors of Africans whose nationalities I'm unable to identify. (I know I'm still an Africa newbie because half the men here still look just like Hakeem Olajuwon to me, especially the ones with moustaches. I'm not bad at this point at picking South Indians from North Indians, Sri Lankans from Bangladeshis, etc. Africans? Not a chance.) Most people were interested but not shocked to find an American in their midst. I admit, however, that when I went into the carpet shop and found myself alone with a slightly sketchy-looking Pakistani, I professed that I was a Filipino. Sometimes it's nice to look like you could be from anyplace.

Finally, a word of advice to anyone traveling to Africa: learn enough soccer/football to have a five-minute conversation about it. All you really need to be able to do is name two or three players from whatever country you happen to find yourself in, but should you happen to be capable of really discussing how much better Arsenal looked before Frimpong (a Ghanaian, conveniently) was sent off against Liverpool and how awful they were without him against United, you'll find that it elicits huge smiles from the locals, and breaks down barriers exceptionally quickly. And if you're American and really in a tight spot, simply mention your nationality and remind a Ghanaian how much you hate it when our team plays the Black Stars, their national team who has beaten us the last two World Cups. I've tried this twice, and was greeted with howling laughter and claps on the shoulder. Actually, the first time there was no shoulder clapping - the Ghanaian was on the other side of the visa window. But there was plenty of laughter. And why not? For a country as small and relatively poor as Ghana to be genuinely better than the US at something that they really care about is something they should be proud of.

Review of the Compound

2011-08-27T06:02:00.000-07:00

We're five months into compound living. Since that's just one month shy of 25% of the time we'll spend here (yes, really!), I figure sufficient time has passed to give compound living a balanced review.

On the whole, I'd say that for our family at this point in time, it's a good place to be. On average, we have about a 15 minute commute to work, which I love. The play ground, dog park, and swimming pool are all less than 50 feet from our front door. We just signed up for a vegetable plot.

From what I've seen of the other residential options, our compound is the only place in the city where Wm can ride his bike freely, without so much as a glance back to see where we are - or a gasp from us each time he comes to a corner. The clinic is a 5 minute walk, and they allowed us to sign a release allowing Lea to bring the boys in in emergencies (a privilege used only once so far, knock on wood). The embassy maintenance staff take care of anything that goes wrong - quick and reliable service.

Now that more families are being assigned to houses and apartments here, Wm and Patch have built in playmates. It's easy and the compound culture for the stay-at-home spouses or nannies to just knock on doors to play - I don't have to pre-arrange play dates (though we do with Wm's two friends who live elsewhere, which means driver schedules must be coordinated :) ). When Patch gets old enough, he'll hopefully start at the preschool right here, which will require zero coordination for transportation.

My life = simplified.

Not to say it's all peachy keen. Friday afternoon, for instance, we talked about going out for dinner that night. But we just didn't feel like braving the evening traffic to try out some new places in Makati or the Fort - and we didn't want to go to MOA (Mall of Asia) again. The nearby dining out options are quite limited. And the traffic to get to other areas is miserable.

It's true - the bedrooms are much smaller than the off-compound leased houses and the finish is basic. But look at it in perspective. If we were back in DC working at the mother ship, we'd be living in our condo that's half the size of this place. And the finish is just like you'd find in a well maintained normal middle class home. After coming from our apartment in India where everything had a patina of high class finish - but questionable functionality - I'll take reliable and nondescript any day. Slip covers, rugs, and wall hangings do the trick.

If we had older kids - or no kids - or no dog - or were single - or basically were at any other point in our life where we really just enjoy spending time at home, the compound would likely seem stifling. But for the next 19 months, it will suit us just fine!

Shots

2011-08-16T04:52:00.000-07:00

I'm headed to Ghana for work in a few weeks, and I needed two shots to go there. One was called "meningococcal", which doctor-speak for meningitis. The other is "yellow fever", which is doctor-speak for yellow fever. Unfortunately, our med unit at the embassy doesn't stock yellow fever vaccine, and I was referred to something ominously called the Bureau of Quarantine.

Knowing that this was a government office, I entered with low expectations. The place is located in the port section of Manila, which made sense when I walked in and realized I was surrounded by Filipino sailors about to head out to sea. All of this was fine until I completed the pre-inoculation for and answered, honestly, that yes, I had received a vaccine in the past seven days (specifically, the meningicoccal that had been administered an hour earlier at the embassy med unit). "Oh no, po", I was told, "you have to wait a week between vaccinations." As any well-vaccinated American knows, this is nonsense - we get multiple shots all the time. I also knew that I had just spoken to the embassy nurse about getting the yellow fever shot, and she had said it was just fine to go now. Third, I had just read the CDC information sheets about both vaccines, and both said that they were safe to receive at the same time as other shots. Finally, the doctors at the Bureau of Quarantine weren't citing medical reasons not to get the shot, they were going on about their policies.

So I was pretty sure there wasn't actually a medical reason I couldn't get this shot. But if I waited a week, I would start to push up against my departure time, and I couldn't get my Ghana visa until the yellow fever shot was completed. Lying seemed like a real option. At the same time, I like to be an honest person whenever I can.

What to do?

Well, I'm only sort of sorry to say that for just a few minutes I put aside my sense of propriety and remembered that I was dealing with government officials who just want to follow the rules. I made it easy for them - "Sorry, po, I misunderstood the question - my meningicoccal shot is right after this one, I haven't gotten it yet." A bit of discussion in Tagalog ensued. A was asked a few more times if I was sure about this, which I dutifully answered in the affirmative. (I'll note here that if I *had* gone to BQ first, then the med unit, I'm 100% certain that I would have gotten both shots in one day with no problem.) With no real alternative presented, the government doctor and nurse gave in. I got the shot - in the left arm, of course, because the right was still a bit sore from the other one, and still had a bandage on it.

It's at times like these that I try to remind myself that I, too, am but a lowly bureaucrat. I get it. All a good bureaucrat needs is a plausible explanation for how what they do is within the rules. So that's what I gave them. Shame on me.

A Filipino Hill Station

2011-08-07T05:32:00.001-07:00

If the Philippines had hill stations like India, Tagaytay would definitely qualify.

For our anniversary, we took a one night trip to Sonya's Garden (http://www.sonyasgarden.com/). Living on the compound has its perks - I did not worry at all about leaving Wm and Patch with Lea for one night while we were only a 2 hour drive away.

We arrived about 3 in the afternoon, checking into a beautiful room with crisp white embroidered linens - think English countryside visits the Philippines. I then went for a massage, a good rub with a little shiatsu thrown in (my first time having someone bend me). The massage oil was scented with goju, a local something - I can't find it on google, so perhaps I have the name incorrect. The slightly sweet and minty smell refreshed me.

Then we went to Antonio's for dinner, probably one of the best reviewed restaurants in the greater Manila area. The salad's lettuce was freshly grown in their own organic garden. Roasted tomato soup with basil foam followed. Main course of chateaubriand with hollandaise. I had a dark chocolate soufflé, and Greg a chocolate terrine, for dessert. Portions of a normal size, but the soup and the cut of beef definitely worth writing home about :)

Situated near the Taal volcano, Tagaytay's elevation makes it much cooler than Manila - I was a bit chilly at night in just a sundress and no shawl. Our room at Sonya's Garden had beautiful large (screened) windows, so we slept with them open, enjoying the mountain breeze. Such a treat after the constant AC in Manila. A night time down pour caused Greg to roll a bit closer to my side of the bed to avoid getting a bit damp. A poor placement of the bed or an added bit of romance? We decided to think of it as the later.

The next morning after breakfast of omelette, fruit, and freshly baked bread, we went back to the room to read. Well, Greg read. I just ended up falling back asleep again. Greg woke me at 11 to go take our class on "the art of doing nothing" - but we couldn't figure out where the class was held, so we just wandered the gardens experimenting with macro photography. Check out the results at: https://picasaweb.google.com/gregory.rankin/SonyaSGarden#

Wm's New City

2011-08-02T05:18:00.001-07:00

Since January, many of our conversations with Wm have talked about "new cities." India and Hyderabad are the "old city" (he doesn't quite grasp the city vs. country concept), while Manila is our current "new city." But he does know that eventually we'll move to another "new city" and another child will live in our current house. At this point, these conversations are quite matter-of-fact, as much a statement of the obvious as observing that it's raining for the umpteenth straight day.

At our parent-teacher conference this week, Wm's teacher said he's adjusting well to his new situation, but he's still sensitive to moving and change. One of his classmates recently moved to Singapore. For the week after, Wm kept asking his teacher if that new city was a nice city and if nice schools existed in that new city. He was the only one in the class who even questioned where the classmate had gone and why - because he is the only one who has moved cities.

(Humorous side note: when I related this story to a friend at work, she remarked that at least Wm's bidding strategy is concurrent with ours: a nice city with good schools!)

Another day, during painting time, he told his teacher he was painting a road to a new city. She asked him where the road went, and he replied he didn't know yet. Only too true!

I'm very interested to hear in a few years, when Patch is 4, how Wm explains the "new city" concept to his little brother. I may never get the chance to listen in on that conversation (and perhaps, if I'm present, a version of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle will apply).

Managing Finances

2011-07-31T05:08:00.000-07:00

One thing the foreign service definitely makes more difficult is managing finances. Before we joined up, I downloaded all credit card and bank statements every month and made beautiful spreadsheets showing where we spent our money. I could estimate a good budget at the beginning of the year and adjust as necessary. Not a penny pincher, I did take a bit of pride in being able to put aside savings, while taking some fun vacations and purchasing a few nice things.

I kept control of it when I was in grad school - and when home after Wm was born. But then we joined the foreign service. The income cut combined with starting day care payments made the reality too painful to look at on a spreadsheet, especially when I compared all the fun things we used to spend money on, but couldn't anymore. Not wanting to resent our new jobs - or new baby - I just stopped tallying.

Then we moved to India. While we then had more wiggle room in our "fun" budget, I found the challenges of accounting more difficult in a highly cash-based society. My spreadsheets were heavily geared toward downloading income and expenses from websites. I didn't feel like making the effort to write down all the cash expenditures, so tracking it didn't seem worthwhile. I realized tonight that my beautiful spreadsheets are languishing on our old laptop - I hadn't even bothered to migrate them!

From January - March 2011, I encountered another obstacle: Home Leave. This has become synonymous with deferred purchasing, in my opinion. A bike for Wm. A new non-stick saute pan. A wardrobe update. Gifts for friends and family. Setting up temporary shop in our temporary apartment. Things we lived perfectly well without in India, but which make life more comfortable when available in the US. As one friend put it, we were trying our hardest to keep the US economy going!

Now we're just getting settled enough in Manila that I've attempted to start tracking again, easing myself in with tracking credit card purchases. The surprising result? We spend a lot on groceries. I'm not sure if the former is because of prices at the store we shop at most frequently, or if it's just simply because food is expensive here. Now that I'm aware, I'll have to price compare a bit more.

Thankfully, both India and the Philippines have had pretty stable FX rates. That would really make things complicated!

(And this is just the expense side of the deal. Income can fluctuate quite a bit when COLA or post differential changes.)

Hope it lasts!

2011-07-28T05:26:00.000-07:00

Wm and Patch - almost all of the time - are pretty adorable together. Maybe moving around the world twice in four months drew them close. Or maybe their opposite personalities help them mesh. Whatever the reason, I'm hoping their friendship lasts.

This morning, Patch (as usual) was messing up Wm's "lines" (he lines up cars, or planes, or trains, or whatever for various reasons ... and Patch thinks it's hilarious to storm in like a tornado and wreck havoc on Wm's orderly play method). Wm storms into the bathroom where I'm taking a shower and announces, "Maybe it would be better if I were alone!" I could almost hear Wm's pout on the other side of the shower curtain.

I stopped lathering my hair and asked who would make him laugh by spinning around in endless circles? Who would come over and give him a hug when he cries? Who would he fall asleep next to every night? After a brief moment of thought, Wm replied, "well, I guess Patch can stay." A classic big sibling moment, if I may say so myself (being the older sibling).

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, Wm was crying in his sleep. I went in to give him some pats, and, as I was doing so, Patch, in his sleep rolled over to snuggle closer to Wm. (yes, most nights they sleep in the same bed.) Wm then turned away from me, put his arm around Patch, stopped crying, and drifted back to a peaceful sleep.

Back in Manila

2011-07-28T05:19:00.000-07:00

I'm back after a fun three weeks in Chennai (with a weekend jaunt to my old HYD haunts). Returning to HYD for the weekend brought back the intimately familiar, from easy conversations with close friends, to lunch at Chutney's, to brunch at our neighbor's in Hanging Gardens. Development (ie, new construction) is continuing in the city, though at a bit slower pace. If the city can manage to settle the Telangana separatist issue, I still think it is one of the most liveable cities in India.

Driving home from the Manila airport, excitement abounded at knowing Greg, the boys (and Bagwelle) were near, but it struck me it doesn't quite feel like "coming home" yet. I'm not sure if it ever will, or if I just need a little more time living here. We'll see what the next few months bring.

At the office, everyone wanted to know how the countries compare. For sure, Manila has more of the material goods - better shopping and restaurant options, from an expat perspective. But, all the same, I miss India! Something about that country just seems to have a pull on me ...

3 Second Diplomacy

2011-07-20T14:26:00.001-07:00

I'm in Chennai. So is one Madam Secretary Clinton. It's exciting and anti-climatic at the same time. It's the first time an acting Secretary of State has visited Chennai, which is a big deal to the local government, press and institutions. But my main job was helping keep the consular section humming while my colleagues with local contacts could facilitate the visit.

I was, however, a first-hand witness to a pretty impressive scene of three second diplomacy today.

We had the "meet and greet" tonight at 7PM, and a bunch of us opted for dinner together after. Turns out, the Golden Dragon was the place to be - about 20 minutes after we sat down, in came the security agents to sweep the place, and 15 minutes later Secretary Clinton and her executive staff were escorted into the restaurant's private dining room. On her way in, the other diners were looking at each other in shock - did they just see who they thought they saw?

(We wanted to reassure them, yes, they did. But instead we enjoyed our dumplings, crispy spinach with candied walnuts, mapo tofu, crispy lamb and hakka noodles - plus the cocktail creation of a friend here: fresh lime soda sweet with gin - good improvisation on the old Indian favorite gin & tonic)

On her way out, the guests were more prepared. One guy even had his camera up and ready to shoot as she was about to power by his table. Secretary Clinton noticed it, stopped to smile for a good photo op, said good evening, and then continued on her way to her room.

For the next few minutes, all the chatter in the restaurant was how kind she was - that it was so unusual for a politician of her rank (especially in India) to take notice of the "common man" - and how lucky this guy was to have such a great picture! At our table, we agreed that those mere three seconds of her time had a pretty big impact for a positive image of the US with local Indians, especially since the story will be told again and again. Brava, Secretary Clinton!

Radio Silence

2011-07-14T06:12:00.000-07:00

I've been sentenced to radio silence with Wm and Patch. Apparently, they're fine as long as they don't hear my voice or mention of "Mama" or "India." Thus making like easier for Greg and Lea, despite the difficulties posed for me, alone in my furnished temporary quarters. Greg calls after the boys go to sleep, enforcing the rule and rendering any pleas of mine futile. Pity on me!

Good news, though, is that Wm has not put up any bedtime fights. Before I left, only I was allowed to read stories, so Greg and I were worried how the bedtime routine would transfer to a Dada-only environment. Turns out, with radio silence, no toruble at all. One night, when Greg was trying to convince Wm to fall asleep in his own bed instead of Patch's, Wm even said that he couldn't sleep alone because Patch kept him company when I was gone. What a great little brother! [As I type, I can picture Patch accidentally bowling Wm over with a generous hug.] Greg gave up his entreties and now the boys fall asleep together in Patch's bed.

I'll be home in about 10 days, so my self-imposed exile will soon end. Most of you know I'm not really a mother to pine after or fawn over her children, and my work-induced mother-guilt is on the low end of the spectrum. Three weeks of travel, though, is testing even my independent nature.

Back in India

2011-07-07T06:18:00.001-07:00

I've been back in south India for two days. Honestly, it's strange. When we left, I doubted I'd return - and certainly didn't expect it to be so soon. Our whole family still misses HYD (when Wm found out I was coming back to India, he had a total meltdown and wailed, "Mama, why are you going home to India without me?" The raw emotion outburst brought me to tears, too). The sadness of saying goodbye is still accute.

With no boys waking me at 5AM or clamoring for more scoops to drink or to fix trains, I enjoyed my usual Indian morning routine of yoga followed by a light breakfast with buffalo milk yogurt and Taj Mahal tea. I missed the morning stretch, the creamy yogurt and the strong tea!

This evening, I had to regain my sense of adventure, which had grown soft in the Shopping Mall and Starbucks Land of Manila. But, with a big breath, I ventured out on foot from my temporary apartment, sidestepping all sorts of debris in the street, being just assertive enough to get where I needed to go without getting run over by an autorickshaw. I have not lost the ability to cross a street.

I managed to find a decent dosa place for dinner and some shoes that fit (even if not stylish) to substitute for the ones I brought which broke yesterday. Confidence is necessary - otherwise, it would be too easy to hole up in my apartment, only venturing out when kind coworkers kindly offer to pick me up and take me out.

Water logged

2011-06-25T01:44:00.000-07:00

Rain has been pitter pattering every day since we returned from Coron. Thursday, the tail end of Typhoon Falcon passed through Manila, really leaving a mess. Wm's school was canceled on Friday. Our parking lot had standing water past my knees at the worst point (for pictures, check out my neighbor's blog, "Here and There," at right).

I feel like I might never dry out. There's almost no point in attempting to tame my curls - or rather frizz ball head.

Best of all, I found culturally interesting how the Philippine Atmospheric Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration (PAGASA) defines storms - one of the main descriptions is by the conditions of banana and coconut trees.

Signal 1: Some banana plants may be tilted or downed.
Signal 2: Many banana plants may be downed. Some coconut trees may be tilted with a few others broken.
Signal 3: Almost all banana plants may be downed and a large number uprooted. Many coconut trees may be broken or destroyed.
Signal 4: Coconut plantations may suffer extensive damage.

Note no mentions of the banana trees in a Signal 4 storm. They were all already uprooted by the Signal 3 storm! Not that I have any knowledge of how strong banana or coconut trees are - but apparently I shouldn't be taking shelter under a banana tree.

Don't forget the pan-de-sel!

2011-06-24T05:31:00.001-07:00

Lemon rice (William's HYD staple) has been replaced. Pan-de-sel is the new lemon rice.

It's a small bun, about the size of a parker roll, with a bit of sugar on top. Some versions, I'm sure, are sweeter than others. They're best eaten hot out of the oven in the morning, each bun costing about 1.5 pesos (3 to 4 cents).

Lea passes a little bakery on her walk from her apartment to ours and has taken to purchasing a small bag for Wm and Patch's breakfast. Every morning now, just barely after saying "Good Morning," Wm asks "Where is the pan-de-sel?" Even Patch starts clamoring "pen-sal pen-sal pen-sal" when she produces the brown paper bag from her purse.

Tonight as Wm was going to sleep, he said, "Mama, you forgot. Tomorrow is Saturday. How can I eat my pan-de-sel for breakfast since Lea doesn't come until late?" Looks like I might be up for an early morning walk to the bakery - let's hope the rain stops and the flooding subsides.

Moving-in update - almost done!

2011-06-22T06:48:00.000-07:00

We arrived March 24 ... and now on June 22, I can say we're almost done settling into our apartment. Hopefully I won't jinx myself by writing that I expect we'll be done before the July 4 weekend.

All boxes are unpacked. The only ones left are ones that have clothes that are too small for the boys - and one box full of stuff that we're donating. Both acceptable reasons to still have things in boxes!

Placement of all framed items was decided upon tonight. No small feat! Greg counted and we have 20 frame locations left to measure. We have to do it all in one fell swoop because we only get one "free" visit from the embassy housing servicing staff to hang our picutres. We have cement block walls - which is great for keeping the noise down, but terrible when it comes to trying to hang our own pictures. I tried with one and failed miserably.

On one hand, three months to receive a shipment and totally unpack seems very efficient. On the other, when I think that it's three months out of the 24 we're assigned here (1/8 or 12.5% of our time...), that's a lot of time to spend in a semi-permanent status. The reality of the amount of time I'll spend packing, unpacking, and living without "my stuff" over the next years is starting to set in.

Visas, state's rights, and economics

2011-06-16T17:29:00.001-07:00

After 2.5 years of non-immigrant consular work, I've had a lot of time to think about visas and really start to try and understand U.S. visa law. While I'm not "consular coned," the links from consular work to all sections of foreign policy are quite interesting. Any change in visa law (or even interpretation) has a huge political impact in foreign countries which are not part of our Visa Waiver Program. Indians will easily recall the hulabaloo when the processing fee for H1B visas (ie, for software programmers) increased. Filipinos are acutely aware of the current lack of H1C (nurse) visas.

I was interested to learn two weeks ago that Canada allows its provinces to sponsor temporary workers - and, if I understand correctly, the provinces can also decide how many of what kind of temporary worker. In the US, our numbers are capped by the federal government.

I started to think ... what would happen if, say, North Dakota could petition for foreign workers in areas where it had acute shortages? Northern VA, for instance, is chock full of software programmers. But what if Oregon wanted to actively grow its thriving (but comparatively small) IT work force - and had the option to recruit from overseas?

I then had an interesting debate with myself. On one hand, devolving power to the states appeals to me as more efficient - local governments usually have a better tap on what the local situation is and resulting needs are. On the other hand, with our current system, all companies in the entire country have an equal shot at hiring workers where they are needed - which seems like fewer economic barriers and less regulation.

Talking to so many people each day can be tiring, I readily admit. But the macro issues behind the individual visa interview are academically interesting. And I haven't even started to learn about our immigrant visa policy yet!

And we're off diving again!

2011-06-16T17:02:00.001-07:00

We're off in about five hours to go diving again! Hooray! Naturally, Wm didn't want to go to school in the morning, with the excitement of boarding an airplane right after school let out. We promised him a hamburger for lunch, which got him in the car without tears.

Speaking of hamburgers, Wm has quickly adjusted to local tastes, preferring the Jollibee hamburger above all others. It's ubiquitous here - and I've even heard they've opend some in Daly City, CA, Queens, NY and Hawaii where there are large Filipino populations. I guess when we're back on home leave, we know where to head if he starts to suffer from too much culture shock. With the sweet thousand-island-esque topping, Greg and I will stick to the soft serve.

In India we tried to take a weekend trip every six weeks or so to see the country. It seems like here we'll slow down a bit to every two months or so - still plenty of travel, but it's a bit more of an ordeal traveling with two in tow and not just one. Of course, pretty soon we'll be able to travel a bit lighter - Patch has now been one week in a toddler bed! So, perhaps on the next trip we'll leave the travel crib behind.

(posted by PRDP, but my account wasn't letting me publish)

A Close Call

2011-06-04T03:10:00.001-07:00

Update from HYD - Naheeda passed her fifth class exams. It was a close call - she had failed three final exams (math, her weakest subject, Telugu and Hindi). The retest was scheduled for June 3. Stakes were high - she had already repeated fifth grade because she changed schools and the demanding new curriculum. If she failed, the current school might deny admission for a third repeat of fifth grade - and another school might not accept her into sixth as transfer with failing courses.

While all the other Indian kids were on summer vacation, she was back at her classroom for summer tuition and a second shot at passing the three exams.

Thankfully, word came today she was promoted to sixth class! Hopefully this next year will be easier, now that she has one year behind her. Big thanks to my friend Shae, who took over weekend reading tutorials to help build her English reading. She passed her English, history, science, and morals classes on the first go round!

English, please!

2011-06-02T05:29:00.001-07:00

We spent Memorial Day weekend in Shekou, China with Greg's sister, Tracy. She came twice to India to visit, but the 10+ hour plane ride with connections at awkward times with two young boys, deterred us from visiting from HYD. Manila made the trip easy - a quick 1.5 hour flight to Hong Kong, and then either a ferry or taxi across the bay.

We weren't really expecting to "see China." The goal was to spend time with Tracy, who just happened to be in China - which we did accomplish while also experiencing a bit of the Middle Country. Shekou is actually smack in the middle of the Shenzen SEZ, so it's not very "China-ish," especially the area where she lives which specifically caters to expats.

Even so, the lack of English surprised me. India and the Philippines, being ex-British and American colonies, of course have a strong English sentiment. Japanese people, while sometimes hesitant to speak English, can usually read and understand what you are trying to communicate (and all the plastic food items make ordering easy!). In Europe, of course, with similar alphabets, a small about of familiarity and a good amount of extrapolation can help an English-only tourist understand the basics. Jordan, Bahrain, Saudi and Dubai all had enough English (signs or speakers) to at least enable us to comfortably move about.

I would have been confined to Starbucks and McDonald's in Shekou, had Tracy not been with us.

Well, that's a slight exageration. I could have used the metro. But a taxi was out. Ordering food at any restaurant not specifically meant for foreigners - also out. Even with my recognition of a few common characters with Japanese, I felt excluded, illiterate, and a bit helpless.

We pushed Tracy's language ability to the max, taking her shopping for tea (I'm so picky!). And after those three days, I've decided that if I ever get assigned to China, I'll do my hardest to make sure I get some language training!

Totally Spoiled

2011-05-22T05:57:00.001-07:00

Yes, I'm totally spoiled. Not by my parents or grandparents - I think I was generally raised with good manners and such. But, when it comes to having two small kids to take care of, and living here in the Philippines, I'm spoiled.

I try not to talk about it too much ... lest you think I don't actually take care of my own children, which is certainly not the case! This weekend, we went to Anilao for my scuba certification dives. We stayed at: http://pierunoresort.com.ph which is more upscale than most dive "resorts," but the facilities seemed sufficent for bringing two small children: clean beds, no charge for extra towels, and railings around the eating areas that Danger Baby (ie, Patch) could not squeeze through.

Greg wanted to come diving, too, to practice his new skills and so we could dive together. After all, as my dive instructor put it, we're lifelong buddies. (fyi - two important rules of diving: always exhale when ascending even a little bit and don't ever lose your buddy!)

The only real way for the two of us to travel 60 feet underwater together was to bring along Lea, our new nanny (yaya, colloquially). It turned out really well - we had a super fun time diving, and the kids and Lea had a super fun time splashing at the ocean's edge (rocks, not sand, in Anilao - but they didn't care). Obviously, bringing a nanny is a normal thing for a dive resort in the Philippines, because our bill even had a "yaya rate" that was 50% of the regular rate. Not really sure why Lea was half off, since she eats and showers just like we do, but I'm not complaining.

Diving is way less expensive here compared to other places in the world ... but for us, we'll probably equalize that out by brining our yaya. Price up, but I'll be happy to be spoiled for the next two years and enjoy some diving with Greg!

I Can't Be that Patient!

2011-05-19T04:24:00.001-07:00

Every parent of an almost-four-year-old has probably heard that phrase a million times. Today's refrain came after we had some good news - our shipment will arrive on Wednesday! It's been in the port here in Manila since April 30, and the Customs Bureau and Department of Finance of the Philippines have finally decided to agree with the decision the Department of Foreign Affairs came to four weeks ago: we are, indeed, diplomats accredited to Manila and thus allowed to receive our household effects duty free.

We had expected the shipment tomorrow, actually, but by the time the final OK came, the shipping company was already booked. Boo. So we have to wait to Wednesday for the shipping crew to be free.

I broke the news to William and when we counted out six fingers as the number of days until his Thomas Couple Trains (the battery powered ones) and his toy tools come, he just lost it, crying "I can't be that patient!"

I told myself at work today, when I heard the news of the delay that, what's the difference? I packed out December 27, 2010. Another 6 days on top of 5.5 months isn't that big a deal. But I realized tonight, that such conceptions of time are still beyond Wm's scope - anything that's further away from the day after tomorrow might as well be months or years away.

Plus, if you're only almost-four, and the majority of your toys have been packed up since you were three and a half, that means you've been missing your toys for 1/8 of your entire life! And about 1/4 of the life that he quasi-remembers. No small potatoes.

We're headed to the beach this weekend, so hopefully that will be some distraction while we all try to be a little more patient.

A trip to the cinema

2011-05-08T06:16:00.000-07:00

I don't remember the first time I went to a movie in a theater, so I think I was pretty small. My mom says my first movie was Bambi. I was apparently unconcerned about Bambi's mom, noting that he could always get another mother. (An especially touching thought on Mothers Day.)

Anyway, William and Patrick's first movie was Rio. William has more than enough attention span for a full film - he was complaining that it was so short. Patch started to get a bit touchy about an hour in, but with approximately 1 of the other 200 seats in the theater filled, a bit of baby noise wasn't a problem. (I highly recommend a similarly sparse crowd to others when one year olds go to their first movies.)

William did get s bit scared a time or two, but it didn't stop him from storming off to bed (his new usual) at 7pm. In general, I'd say a good time was had by all.

From the Royal Wedding to Osama to Peace

2011-05-07T23:29:00.001-07:00

Yes, it was an interesting morning at church today. After a few trials, we've settled at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church (http://www.holytrinity.ph/).

We started off singing "Jerusalem" in honor of Prince William and Catherine's wedding. Most of the clergy are Aussie, so have a Commonwealth-interest in things royal. A difficult hymn to sing, but a fun way to incorporate world events when living so far away.

Then the sermon focused (mosty, it was a bit rambling) on Osama bin Laden's death. I'm still chewing on two of his thoughts. (1) how Osama's "mixing of hatred and religion created one of the most powerful and dangerous cocktails on Earth" and how this applies in general to religion in the world. (2) how one should never rejoice in another's death: "we cannot applaud anything destructive and violent." I'm not sure if the sermon will be posted to the church website, but it's an interesting listen even if you don't agree with some of his points.

Thankfully, after that, a baptism followed. Who can't smile at a cute two-month-old baby? Or at the letter read from the baby's grandmother's parish priest in Florida? Or at how at this church they have the Sunday school class children come in, each dip their hand in the baptismal water, and then touch the baby saying "I bless you," for a blessing for a child from a child?

Appropriately to the sermon theme of the day, part of the baptismal covenant reads that, with God's help, the congregants will "strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being." Something we all - regardless of religion - can certainly work towards.

And then we sang: Dona Nobis Pacem (Give Us Peace).

Maybe part of the new routine?

2011-05-04T06:17:00.000-07:00

Our new household help have been asking me to purchase "Bygon" - I had no idea what this was, but on my last shopping trip saw it on the shelf and did some reading. Turns out, it's a bug spray for inside the house. Pretty hefty-duty stuff, too, since the instructions say not to enter a room within 30 minutes of spraying. Somewhat haltingly, I added it to my shopping cart.

This afternoon, Wm and Patch decided they wanted to join Greg at the pool (he does laps, the rest of us pack around until Wm gets too antsy and interrupts lap swiming for play time). As I was heading out with two boys in two pairs of green Crocs, Lea asked if she should spray the Bygon. Not a bad idea, since we'd be gone for a minimum of 30 minutes.

Out we went. Spray she did. Fourty five minutes later we returned to a bug-free house. Definitely worth remembering as part of the evening routine, if we can convince the boys of a pool or playground trip.

An underwater world of wonder

2011-05-02T04:39:00.000-07:00

About three hours south of Manila, in a province called Batangas, I went on my first scuba dives this weekend. We dove three times on Saturday and one on Sunday, and, like the druggie who only needs one try to get hooked, I suspect the next two years will include quite a few trips to the myriad alluring dive spots in the Philippines.

Having read much about this country, the one activity that stands out in just about every account is that the diving is world-class. Most of the 7,000-odd islands are surrounded by coral reefs, and for fish the tropical water is like nectar to a hummingbird. Friends have been diving with whale sharks and manta rays, in Japanese warships and underwater caves. My first trip included none of this, but the reef off the coast near Anilao gave enough of a taste of the color and life that the submarine world has to offer that I'm sure I'll be back.

Coming into it, I was a little nervous - yes, I know how to swim, but the ocean is not a pool, and there's a big difference between the surface and 60 feet below. I was struck as we went down the side of the reef with just how far down it went - it's easy to forget from the shore just how vast the ocean is; when you're descending the reef and it goes down farther than you can see, it's a reminder of just how small you really are. At the same time, buoyed by a vest of air to balance out the weights around my waist, wearing a pair of fins and a mask that shockingly neither fell off nor leaked in over two hours of diving, it felt shockingly easy to move underwater. I always found snorkeling pleasant but tiring; it's not easy to dive down and hold your breath to see things only seven feet underwater, then come up and blast the water out of your snorkel before getting a breath of fresh air. With a scuba tank, all you have to do is breathe.

Perhaps the most surprising thing was the pure clarity of the water. Raised on water in Galveston, this is not something to which I'm accustomed. Even Goa, perhaps more lush and green on the coast, is too polluted in the water to offer the perfect clarity of Philippine seas. Yes, I think I'll be back for more.

Impressions from the Visa Window

2011-04-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest, with two tiny kids at home, I don't go much of anywhere after work except home to play with the boys. Then after dinner, some sudoku and a book, it's bedtime as the solar-powered boys wake up at 5:30AM (can't wait for the boat to come with our blackout curtains!).

Thus, many of my impressions of my new home come from sitting at the visa window for six hours each day. My favorite phrase is "Thank you, Po!" or "Salamat, Po!" depending if the applicant uses Taglish or full-on Tagalog. It's said in such a sing song way - and whether or not the applicant was issued or refused - it brightens me up and keeps on going.

I've also noticed that most families are quite large - 4 or 5 kids appears the norm, and I'm quite surprised when I come across an only child. That poor only child must feel left out at school when everyone else is tagging around with brothers and sisters. William's school enrollment form had space for six names in the "siblings" section.

Also on the child front, I see at least one, and often two, special needs children each day - and their parents and siblings taking special care of their needs. And families with three or four daughters are not uncommon - and the parents are still smiling. I've taken an interest in the rapidly shifting gender imbalances, especially in Asia. Thus, the balance here is heartening after reading so many dire articles.

Communicating, as always

2011-04-29T06:40:00.001-07:00

Many things in Manila are familiar - not because of the US influence - but because of the similarity with HYD. Probably that's why Wm and Patch are so happy here :)

Tonight, again, I was reminded how English can be the same, but different. And how just because something is written down on a "menu", that doesn't mean that's actually what will happen.

I find four critical elements in a good pedicure: exfoliation, cuticle and nail trimming, leg massage, and polish change. I've had three pedicures so far, and only managed to get either two or three aspects.

Tonight, I really thought I would succeed. I ordered off the menu what I thought I wanted and confirmed the two package names with the hostess, who repeated in Tagalog to Jenny, who was tending me. Exfoliation, check. Leg massage, check. Then, suddenly, Jenny disappeared into the back, telling me to relax and enjoy my book. I thought she would come back with the necessary items for the rest of the pedicure. Sadly, no luck. By the time I realized the miscommunication, 9:30 had rolled around and I was about to turn into a pumpkin. (no pun intended, Da)

This next week I'm off to experiment with a hair salon that comes with rave reviews for curly hair from a woman at work with hair just like mine. She reports the staff can concurrently do a pedicure and hair cut (wild!). I'll keep trying!

Two Trips in Two Days

2011-04-28T04:59:00.000-07:00

I've always been amazed that we made it through two years in HYD with two small boys and no health issues more serious than pink eye. Really. Unbelievable. I figured Wm and Patch must have tummies of steel and antibodies up the wazoo. How else to explain this miracle?

Manila has been a bit harsher on them, sadly. They both had terrible tummy troubles this last week, culminating in Wm visiting the ER at 2AM on Wednesday. He woke up in so much pain and had trouble breathing - I honestly was concerned he had appendicitis or perhaps a return of intusseception (telescoping bowel) that he suffered from at 13 months old. Given that experience three years ago, off we tramped to visit the ER here.

Thankfully, it turned out nothing was wrong except a very bad bacterial infection - or, at least, that's the leading guess given his blood work up. So, he's on super strong antibiotics and I'll probably take him back in a month to make sure the blood work is more normal.

Just as I was recovering from that, I the clinic called - Patch had a gash in his lip (courtesy of a push from his big brother; he toppled over and bonked his head on the coffee table, in turn biting down on his lip). It's borderline needing stiches and they recommend I go to the ER for a consultation.

Pack up work bags, hail taxi, off I go to meet Patch (with nanny and driver) at the ER. Again. Two visits in two days. How many parents can be so lucky?

After consults from two different doctors at the ER, I opted for no stiches. The gash is pretty nasty, but the docs think it will heal quickly on its own since babies bodies do that. Lucky Patch - I was encouraged to feed him ice cream if it seems like his lip is bothering him. Now that's a treatment any kid would love!

The ER here is clean and nurses and doctors competent. Good things to know :) Both boys are now on antibiotics, so any residual tummy troubles should be gone soon. I'm thankful we have the clinic right on the compound, too. I told you I might be a compound-convert by the time we leave here....

Where Manilans Spend Maundy Thursday

2011-04-22T01:29:00.001-07:00

My mom and I went into Intramuros yesterday, so she could see some of Manila aside from the compound and shopping malls. We took a walking tour recommended by some new coworkers: http://celdrantours.blogspot.com/ Half way through, we thought about ditching the tour and just exploring on our own, but decided to stay and, in the end, decided we enjoyed it. I'll have to try it out again without 103 people on the walking tour.

Maundy Thursday and Good Friday are national holidays. Most Manilans head back to "the provinces" for Easter festivities. Traffic on the streets is minimal. Shopping malls are closed (gasp!). I could bike down to the embassy and not worry about being hit by a charging bus. It's really a completely different city, with over 50% of the population gone.

But I found out where those who stay in the city go: Intramuros. It was jam packed. We got there about 3:30, and stalls were set up in the small windy streets selling strange foods on sticks (I wasn't adventurous to try, and have no Tagalog skills to ask), cheap toys, and cold sodas. At first I thought an impromptu festival had been set up - after all, with schools and offices closed, people must go somewhere.

Then, as we walked from the Cathedral to St Augustin church, I realized why so many people were flocking here: huge set ups of the Stations of the Cross (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stations_of_the_cross) in the plazas front of and inside the various churches of Intramuros.

To date, my non-work experience of Manila has been pretty much limited to shopping malls and restaurants. I've met one woman who works with the Ballet Philippines (looking forward to July's performance!), and we found a weekend outdoor market. Before coming here, we were warned not to expect much "culture" after being in culture-rich India.

Seeing such a large cross section of the population reading out of prayer books at each station, though, shed a new light on my view of Manila. Families gathered round as one person (usually the matriarch) read out each passage to all. Groups of teenagers walked from one station to the next, in matching t-shirts or carrying their own mini crucifix. And many individuals, too, prayed with rosaries in front of each cross.

Culture does exist here -- you just have to dig a bit under the facade.

time flies!

2011-04-20T19:54:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's already April 21. We've almost been here a month! We're settling in pretty well - and anxiously awaiting our boat shipment to arrive. If everything sticks to schedule (big IF), the boat should dock in Manila on Easter Sunday, and then it'll take about a week for the paperwork to clear and to have a truck bring us our boxes. Unpacking will be fun - it's always funny to see what we shipped that we probably don't actually need.

Wm is liking his new school (www.montessori.ph) - the Montessori method (AMI) has been a bit of an adjustment from Waldorf, but similar enough that he still feels comfortable in the classroom. I miss the imaginative side of Waldorf - Montessori's philosophy is more litteral - but I do like the individualized approach. Wm is pretty good at somethings, less advanced at others, so being in the mixed-age classroom is beneficial for him.

I also was happy that one of the first comments from his teacher was how kindly he treated all people - from teachers, to students to yayas (nannys). As many of you faithful readers know, we had a hard time selecting a preschool for him in HYD for that very reason. I didn't want a school where teh ayama's (aides) cleaned up everything for the kids. Looks like we chose well. We miss you, Sloka!

Patch loves the playground on the compound. In one short month he's figured out how to climb up the "rock wall" (steps shaped like rocks), which makes my mother suck in her breath with worry every time. He's quite the danger seeker, so I'm sure we'll have a trip to the ER at some point during our stay here. Hopefully for nothing too serious, since Dr Aunt Beth is far away!

My mom and I are venturing out into Intramuros this afternoon. Living on the compound, our life has been kind of insulated, so we're looking forward to seeing some of the old city. Hopefully for you, I'll be timely in putting up pictures!

From your non-essential correspondent

2011-04-06T04:38:00.001-07:00

I'm mostly just thankful that we got our Internet connection set up before we're furloughed next week. Now if we can get some cable tv and a car, I'll be all set to hang out at the pool for a few days...

Coconut Jelly

2011-04-02T22:46:00.000-07:00

We’ve ventured to the two grocery stores closest to our house: S&R, a Costco-style store complete with the Kirkland brand and jars of Ragu spaghetti sauce large enough to last a year, and S&M Hypermarket, a Target-like store with household items, clothes, and a large grocery section. Both contain a mix of the familiar – from Gold Medal All-Purpose Flour to Special K Red Berries – to the strange – half and aisle of various brands of coconut jelly and an entire aisle devoted to canned meat (SPAM, corned beef hash, and Vienna sausages galore). A friend kindly told us about an organic store which stocks a bunch of gluten-free options for my mom.

Seeing so many American and, to be honest, Japanese brands was very reassuring, leaving a first impression that most foods would be available here. Dairy products are generally shipped from California or Australia, so the taste is familiar. The Asian section has everything from Bulldog sauce to Pocky. Such a difference from Hyderabad! By the time we left it, between the four import grocery stores we could find most things, but it was always hit or miss. Here the import foods seem par for the course.

I am going to try and avoid the processed foods here as almost all the ingredient lists I’ve read contain MSG and large quantities of sodium and sugar. True of many processed foods in the US, too, but combined questionable food-safety processing techniques, I have my worries. A coworker said she found the best fruits and veggies at a Saturday market – so hopefully we can make it out to that soon.

Strangely, I have not yet found beans and lentils (aside from canned pork and beans), either canned or dry varieties. I had adjusted our eating habits after two years in India with more kinds of beans and lentils than I could keep straight. A trip to an Indian grocer might just be in order!

If anyone knows just what exactly one does with coconut jelly, do share. The SPAM I think I'll just let be.

First Impressions

2011-03-27T03:15:00.000-07:00

We arrived safely and relatively sane. No terrible airport or airplane experiences, a vast improvement over our departure from India which was about the worst day of our entire lives. Detroit and Nagoya airports are surprisingly comfortable – big enough to have good food options and kid play areas (key!), but not so huge and busy like DFW, ORD or NRT.

First day in the office accomplished much, notably applying for cable and internet and our VAT point-of-purchase exemption card. All our American consulate friends from India will truly appreciate the existence of a VAT card! In the interim, the clubhouse on the compound has free wifi for members.

For the rest, we can’t help but compare to Hyderabad, our most recent point of reference.

• Housing is smaller in comparison, but comfortable. Hearing some stories, it sounds like the off-compound situation is similar to Hyderabad: beautiful patina, but questionable functionality. On-compound (where we are), most appliances are imported. I don’t have any complaints except for my shower head (pressure and hot water are sufficient, a bonus over our last house!).

• Driving is slightly crazy – tame in comparison to India, but not quite as orderly as the US. Since we live near the office, we hopefully won’t have to deal with the crazy traffic jams, especially during monsoons when we hear some roads flood. Driving time, though, will be a key factor in evaluating schools for William. If William were old enough to ride a school bus, we’d probably skip the driver.

• Availability of Western goods is high. We thought HYD was doing well, especially with the recent opening of Marks & Spencer and Chili’s. If you crave to continue to live your life with all the same brands as in the U.S., Manila is the place for you. Some come at a premium (e.g., men’s Croc’s for $40 instead of $30), of course. I found it strange walking around the Mall of Asia yesterday and seeing all the normal shopping mall stores of the U.S. interspersed with fast food stores selling fried pork parts. (no, I was not adventuresome enough to try them.)

• The jury is still out on personal safety. Sadly, I was pick pocketed on my first day out and about, something which never happened to me in India. I had a cell phone for all of five minutes, I think. The local SIM card worked in my fancy US phone (which I had had unlocked in India), which I put in a Velcro pocket on the outside of my bag … and then after a brief walk through the mall and through a toy store to pick up a new ball each for Wm and Patch, the phone was gone. Thankfully, all four passports and my wallet in the zipper pocket were safe. We’re going out again to purchase a cell phone, and this time I’m in the market for a boring talk-and-text-only basic handset.

I was a compound skeptic, but my initial impression is positive. Our neighbors report immediate response when repairs are necessary. The dog run and swimming pool are each about 100 yards from our front door, the playground maybe 40 feet. William already knows his way around, and reportedly the kids pretty much roam free between the each other’s houses. My mom is excited that the clubhouse restaurant (and Gloria Jean’s coffee shop!) will be operational from Monday after renovation.
The only negative so far is that the on-compound preschool is reportedly very strict on birthday cut offs. We had been hoping to send Patch there, but he’s two months shy of the cut off date. After three months in the US hearing exclusively English all the time, he’s actually starting to try and talk more! We’d like to encourage this and have him in a small playgroup for 2 – 3 hours each day, but I guess we’re probably going to have to look elsewhere.

Greetings from steamy Manila

2011-03-26T23:21:00.000-07:00

I'm trying this on the iPad, so sorry about any misspellings. It also doesn't seem to like the blogspot interface, so hopefully this will actually work.

Anyway, it's darn humid here. Think Houston in June. Luckily we've been able to get to the mall both days this weekend. Yesterday we both got our phones set up, only for Pam to have hers stolen out of her purse within an hour. This gave me an outstanding opportunity to buy a new phone, which I have kept for myself (with the approval of an indifferent Pam - though I suspect she'll have a new one before we leave Manila.).

The apartment is pretty decent, once you get past the tiny non-master bedrooms. Ous is big enough to be two bedrooms, and the other two, if combined, would be about the size of one. Fortunately we have a rather large living area. Turns out we probably could have brought more of our furniture than we did, but I still think it's better to have extra empty space than to not be able to move because you have too much stuff. And our shipments aren't here anyway, so maybe we brought more than I remember.

William is enjoying the new place, especially the playground. Once he decided the pool wasn't too cold yesterday, he had fun there, too. Patch, for the most part, is indifferent to the whole business and just keeps on doing whatever he does. Oh, and the plane ride was tolerable. It's incredible how much difference it makes when you can just put the headphones on the three year old and forget about him for a while.

That's it for now. Hopefully the house will be wi-fi enabled and hooked up to cable in the next week, but for now we have to sit by the pool to go online (I know, the horrors!).

Pack Out --- AGAIN!

2011-03-16T09:53:00.000-07:00

The movers will be showing up in about thirty minutes to pack up our air frieght shipment. Seems ike we just did this. Oh, yes, that's right. We did. And now again. Good thing we'll be staying put in Manila for two years. The packing is the worst!

This time, of course, less effort was involved. Just keep out five days worth of winter clothes to wear before we get on the plane - and the rest of the winter stuff goes in the air shipment. At first I was going to sort through all the boys' summer clothes to see what to bring and what to ship. Luckily, though, toddler-sized summer clothes fold very small, and everything fit in one duffel, so I was spared the trouble. Phew!

I gave in to William's one request: we'll find room for both the dump truck AND the fire truck (both about one foot by one foot) in the suitcases. The thought of packing again had him in such a tizzy last night. Thankfully Patch is too small to make space-constraint requests :) The two-wheeler bicycle with training wheels (complete with Spiderman helmet) is all ready to go in the airshipment for the "welcome to Manila!" present for William.

I didn't have that hard of a time making decisions about what clothes to bring - but when it came to books, ACK! I have a small pile of kids books in the middle of the living room floor which I'm undecided about. On one hand, they're heavy. On the other, it's a LONG plane ride and a completely unfamiliar place at the end. Willl Katy the Steamshovel and The Big Red Barn make the cut? I have until the movers show up to decide...

Adjusting in time to change again

2011-03-09T17:37:00.000-08:00

Today, William finally let us leave his classroom without him screaming. I'm not expecting it to happen again tomorrow, but I finally felt like he was adjusting to being here ... and then two weeks from today we'll be in Manila and it will all be new again. I have difficulty visioning how difficult this move is for William. Patch doesn't really have much of a long term memory, so it's not as big an issue for him (now that he's accustomed to wearing winter clothes :) ).

William's a pretty verbal kid, but I do have to remind myself he's only three and a half. Often, when he has a huge outburst, after he finally calms down enough to talk, he says what's really bothering him - usually that he's missing something in India (his trains, his toy farm house, Sarwari and Shabu) or that he's bothered by something different here (having to take a nap at school instead of home or having chapped lips and hands because of the cold). Greg and I are stressed out about big picture things (shots? house? schools?) - but the stresses for a small kid are much more accute and immediate.

Taking a cue from a foreign service parenting tip suggestion, we went for Indian food last night. The first time for Indian food since we left! William easily reverted to making little rice balls and eating with his fingers. Patch totally jammed out to the Bollywood hits (playing loudly, of course!). Both polished off their dinner. Advice from this publication I was reading hit home -- I have a lifetime of experience in the US and find the food, the sights, the smells, the sounds all comforting. The US is as foreign to William and Patch as Manila will be for all of us (unless living in a traffic-congested dusty large city actually ends up being more familiar to them). I just need to remember that though I'm comfortable and happy to be home, the boys lack that shared memory.

Something is starting to click

2011-01-18T20:12:00.000-08:00

We've been in the US for about three weeks now, and Patch has been hearing exclusively English for this whole time. After a weekend away, I was playing with him yesterday and today with more attention. I did enjoy the first kid-free weekend in 3.5 years, but I also missed both boys! I'm pretty sure that his language comprehension has drastically increased of late. I'll never know if it's because he's just one month older than when we left HYD, or if it's because of lack of language mixing, but either way, it's exciting to see him learn.

He can now follow simple directions ("put the blocks in the bag") and also gesture for exactly what he wants (water out of my cup, for instance, and not milk in his sippy cup).

He's also started nodding yes when asked a simple question. I find this highly amusing because William started bobbing his head side to side after a mere two weeks in India. It's taken Patrick (at just about the same age) just about the same amount of time to copy a nod. No head bobbling for the Indian-born one, unless his big brother rubs off on him.

People Watching

2011-01-11T12:35:00.000-08:00

Austin is great for many things - and people watching ranks up there. With the temperature drop near freezing over night, we had to find a way for William to expend energy inside. A little web research showed the Children's Museum (www.austinkids.org) might do the job. The boys both had a great time, but I had most fun seeing the other parents and caregivers.

First, you know you're in Austin when the staff at the Children's Museum has strangely colored hair and some extra piercings - but yet all obviously enjoy their jobs and interacting with the pre-school set. I was trying to imagine what this young, alternative group of adults would talk about with their friends at night.

To my surprise, Greg was not the only dad there - on a Tuesday at 10:30AM. I suppose some of the other guys could have been nannies (why not?), but either way, a stay-at-home dad or a make caregiver certainly would have a good sized cohort here.

And then came the moms ... and grandmoms. The first lady who struck up a conversation with me was of an indeterminable age. Her face looked older with heavier wrinkles and thick foundation, but she was wearing skinny jeans and Ugg boots. I was kind of curious, I admit, what it would be like being at 45 year old mom, until she mentioned how her daughter worked three days a week.

One mom was bling-ed out, with sparkles on her sneakers, on the back pockets of her jeans, and on a big flower on her head band. One was quite pregnant and shepherding three boys under five around. Two were engrossed in their iPhones while their kids enjoyed running around. Some looked like they had stepped out of fashion magazines while others dressed more comfortably for crawling on the floor.

One in her early twenties commented to me how every time she and her two year old son came, she only ever sat on a bench while he spent two hours engrossed with the model train - she didn't think that after working her way through UT, this is how she would pass a morning each week. Her appeals to interest him in the motion exhibit or the play kitchen fell on deaf ears.

After two years in a stratified society, I enjoyed the mixing of kids and parents from so many different backgrounds. And the "artisan sausage" with huckleberry compote and applewood smoked cheddar for lunch after (http://hotdogscoldbeer.com/).

That In Between Space

2011-01-11T12:07:00.000-08:00

A friend in HYD talked about the time between packing out and leaving as "that in between space" when one is neither here nor there. The boxes are en route to the new city as are many thoughts, but one still has work and relationships to attend to in the current place. I think the limbo period actually extends until arrival at the next post; right now we certainly aren't anywhere in particular. We're enjoying Austin and spending time with grandparents - and are looking forward to visiting more friends and family on our east coast driving tour - but where we actually "are" is up for debate.

It hit first on arrival in Houston: the customs form asked for our city of residence. It wasn't HYD anymore. We haven't set foot in Manila, so we couldn't call it that either. Technically Austin is our US residence, but we're only here for three weeks. And we'll only be in the DC area for five weeks. After nearly 30 hours of traveling with two kids, six checked bags, 5 carryons and a dog, Greg and I looked at each other bewildered. Where do we live right now? (We did fill in Austin.)

Though enjoying the extended vacation, four weeks of no work is a little strange for everyone. William wants to know why Grandpa Bob goes to work but we both stay home. We are certainly not used to having to entertain a one year old and three year old 100% of the time! So, that in between space is not just about figuring out where we live or half-adjusting to the US just in time to have to learn a new culture in Manila, it also means finding a new rhythm for our days.

Last Blog from HYD

2011-01-01T00:52:00.000-08:00

All good things must come to an end, the saying goes, and so it is with our time in HYD.

We had a wonderful "Hello 2011, Goodbye HYD" brunch this morning, with a fun variety of friends stopping in. Shabu and Sarwari are sorting through our extra kitchen stuffs to divide amongst themselves. Greg is busily packing the last suitcase with the random odds and ends left in the house. Patch is napping. William (despite what he told everyone at brunch this morning!) isn't napping, but is lying down watching cartoons. Actually, Wm's had a pretty lucky day -- chocolate with lunch followed by ice cream and then cartoons in the afternoon. It's just too sad a day to have any rules.

Now I'm off to nap in anticipation of being awake with Patrick the full flight to Houston. We're sitting two and two on the flights, and Greg opted for William as his travel companion. We'll see State-side if he chose wisely!

A big thanks to all of our friends in Hyderabad. Of course we're excited to see our family and friends in the US, but we couldn't have asked for a better two years for our first assignment abroad. Keep your fingers crossed that I'm not so red from crying at the airport that they think I have some kind of strange disease and don't let me out of the country.

The Big Pot Hunt

2010-12-30T18:44:00.001-08:00

For about three months, I've had this craft in mind that I would do with William's class. Greg's mom brought supplies on her last visit to India, and everything seemed in order. I had thought I would have William's class over to the house for a party, but things got a little crazy for that. So, I talked with his teacher, modified the craft to fit the Waldorf philosophy, and today am going to his school to paint pots with the kids. Each kid will bring home a pot and a little pack of seeds.

At first I needed 15 pots - just for William's class. But then Geeta Teacher decided it would be fun for her class, too -- so the pot requirement doubled to 30. Even with the 16 hour notice, I wasn't fazed. Last minute changes are the norm here, and since I was already sending Krishna out to buy 15 pots, why not 30?

Except apparently someone conducted a raid on pots in HYD over the last week. Krishna gave me updates throughout the day - he followed leads from Shilparamam in the west to Osmania University in the east -- but no pots of the size and type I had requested. Apparently, according to the pot wholesalers, people these days are preferring glazed pots or plastic pots to match more Western furnishings. Simple ceramic pots are considered passe and don't sell well. And someone came through two days ago purchasing 50 small ceramic pots from three different wholesalers, completely wiping out the small ceramic pot inventory in the city.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not!

One guy said he could custom make the pots I was looking for, but it would take a week. Umm... in a week I'll be in America! By 8PM last night, we still had no pots, and I needed to get a pedicure (I mean, really, I couldn't show up at IAH with bad toenail polish!). A plan was developed: Krishna would go out to get the best samples he could find and bring them to the spa. Then Krishna would go purchase the pots and seeds, and my friend would drive me home post-pedicure.

At 9:30 PM, I arrived back home, followed closely by Krishna with 30 small clay pots in the Xylo. Mission accomplished. And my driver thinks I'm nuts that his last act for me was to drive all over the city searching for pots!

Four Days Left

2010-12-28T03:21:00.001-08:00

It's official. All 2479.4kg (about 5500 lbs) of boxes (including packing material) are downstairs, being loaded into crates. William and Greg are observing. Our friend Shae came over to supervise packing and loading of the piano, which seems to be going OK. It's 5PM on the second day, so time-wise, the movers did a good job. Quality-wise will not be assessed until we arrive in Manila, of course.

Our house is depressing, but at least we only have four days left in it. I'm glad we rescheduled the pack out after our departure day was delayed; spending 2.5 weeks in an empty house would be depressing. Now that the house is packed up, there's no avoiding the fact that we're moving and having to say good bye. Moving to a new place doesn't stress me out; leaving the current place does. It's exactly how I felt when I left DC, too.

Our friends Guru and Sowmya sent over dinner these last two days, limiting necessity of take away when the kitchen is closed. Two lessons I've learned that I'll take to the next post, to help out my yet-to-be-met friends: (1) offer to let any pets or children spend the pack out days at my house and (2) send over simple home cooked meals. Eating good food and knowing dog & children are happily playing ameliorate packing stress.

The plan is to go to work these next two days. Friday, I'm doing a craft project with William's class (I think - I thought I had confirmed details with his teacher, but I have to call her tonight to double check). Saturday we have our good bye brunch, hopefully good naps for the boys in the afternoon, and then to the airport in the late evening.

Then for the real question: do we rename the blog?

Doggie is the New Lamby Baby

2010-12-27T07:34:00.000-08:00

During the BIG SORT we had to attack toys and stuffed animals. William isn't attached to much, except Lamby Baby (which has been a necessity since his bout of intussusception at age 13 months) and recently Nandita (aka Curious George who became William's baby when Patrick was born). Other stuffed animals come and go, but those two are staples. We dutifully put them both in the "off limits" room, knowing full well the wrath which would descend on our house if either - especially Lamby Baby - were packed in boxes. I don't even want to think about that possibility!

Patch, though, hasn't shown much attachment to anything in particular except his big brother. In his crib he's always had this one small pillow (which has fuzzy soft animal appliquéd on the cover) and a stuffed sleeping dog (from my friend John, I believe purchased at Harrod's, if I remember correctly!). We didn't really know if we should keep the pillow and dog out, since space in carry on and checked luggage is at a premium, but decided to keep the dog. After all, even if not critical, something familiar from home would be nice, right?

Good thing we did! I put Patch to bed tonight and he screamed like crazy. Though this is par for the course for the big one, I was shocked - Patch just dives into bed and is out like a light. I walked downstairs and spotted Doggie on the sofa ... and thought, maybe that's what Patch wants. A quick run upstairs, a toss of the dog into the portacrib, and - like magic - small one was asleep.

Now I just have to figure out how to order a back up dog - just in case!

A lull in the madness

2010-12-26T23:57:00.001-08:00

The BIG SORT is finished, and the packing has started. Having heard horror stories from our coworkers, we had very low expectations from the moving crew. Either we were assigned a better company, or the company sent their best crew, but whatever the reason - KNOCK ON WOOD - so far everything is going smoothly.

Air shipment, check. Extra poundage available to add in some dog food and a bike with training wheels for William for Manila (his "moving to a new home" present - and then Patch can have the tricycle).

Storage to Belgium, check. In all likelihood our flat in Manila will be about 1/2 the size of our HYD home, so the few pieces of personal furniture we brought here will be packed away for storage. As are our humidifiers -- word on the street is that those will be completely useless in Manila.

Now on to the rest of the house after lunch. Namely, clothes, linens, frames, china, crystal, and kitchen stuff. Also known as the time when when Pam will bite her nails to bits, hoping her fourth generation china and retired crystal pattern make it in one piece. Some people think I'm crazy for bringing this stuff everywhere, but it seeing it in my house makes me happy - everyone is allowed some level of irrationality, yes?

Though I'm not a big fan of State's furniture choices, I am a big fan of not having to move furniture. Packing a house goes so much more quickly without all the big pieces to wrap.

What I Really Need Right Now

2010-12-25T22:49:00.000-08:00

is a grande latte. Where is my father to make a Starbuck's run when I need him?

My taskmaster has come back from walking the dog. I guess that means the lunch break is over and we have to go back to packing. Hope the boys are having fun at Sarwari's house.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-24T03:44:00.001-08:00

Obviously, this is a strange Christmas for us. We had been hoping to be with our family in the US, but such was not to be. Our house is all turned upside down for the movers coming on the 27th. Baking any type of Christmas cookies at all was completely out of the question. We could only find Christmas eve services at 7Pm or later, which just won't work with young boys' sleep schedules - and good sleep is imperative at this moment. I didn't want to cook a feast (and get everything dirty before the movers come), so Sarwari made chicken korma - just screams traditional Christmas Eve dinner, right???

But little things make it still OK. Not having the energy for a full hotel Christmas brunch, we'll just go over to a friend's house for a simple meal together tomorrow. We've intentionally kept the BIG SORT contained in two bedrooms downstairs so that the area around our tree looks normal. If we can't make it to 8AM Christmas Mass tomorrow, we'll just read Luke 2:1-20 ourselves.

I picked William up at school today and teared up when I saw the nativity scene the teachers had arranged - simple, with wooden and cloth figures, just like all the toys at his school. Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, Wise men and some sheep on the first step. A choir of angels on the second step, and a two foot Indian-style Christmas tree on the third. The perfect simple scene for our simple Christmas. I just wish I had brought my camera to capture the essence and spirit of our Christmas this year to share with you.

William's thoughts on moving

2010-12-24T03:36:00.000-08:00

To continue the previous thread ... two recent conversations with William on moving:

(1)

Me: "William, we need to pick out which toys will go on the airplane and which ones will go on the boat to Manila."

William: "I only need one box. The other children coming to this house will need some toys so I will leave them here. I just need my dump truck and other trucks and trains and men." (meaning, little Duplo people he makes ride in various vehicles)

Me: "What about Patrick?"

William (pause, thinks, then says): "OK, two boxes only then."

(2)

We had some good friends over a few days ago to say good bye as they were leaving before Christmas and wouldn't be back in HYD until Jan 3. At some point in the evening, Wm went upstairs ... and it got to be pretty quiet, which as all parents of three year olds know can be a sign of trouble! Our friends left, and we went upstairs to see what was going on. We saw one of our 5x7 carpets from the TV room rolled up and lying near the stairs.

Greg: "William, what's this carpet doing?"

Wm: "I rolled it, Dada."

Greg: "Yes, I see that. Why?"

Wm: "I want to take it to Manila so I have to roll it so the packer guys can take it."

The next day, we were home for the BIG SORT (ie, purging and rearranging). Wm asked help with rolling up almost all of the carpets, which are now piled up right near the door so the packer guys will see them.

William's thoughts

2010-12-13T08:06:00.000-08:00

Babies are cute - but kids are more fun. It is amusing to watch Patch this week figure out that walking backwards into a wall kind of hurts (he repeated this new trick several times, but I think he understands now). It's more fun, though, having real conversations with William.

Some recent favorite comments:

"Sarwari, when I get big and am a pilot, I will fly back to India and pick up you and Shabu and take you to America with me." (this was about two weeks ago)

"Mama, when I am so big - bigger than you - then I will live on my own house on Road 14. And I will take Patrick with me because he's my friend and you're only the Mama."

"Mama, you are not my friend because you have to put me in time out sometimes. Friends don't put friends in time out." (I pointed out to him that if he didn't bonk Patch on the head, I wouldn't need to put him in timeout so often.)

Sarwari's House

2010-12-12T02:03:00.000-08:00

Faithful readers know we've been to Sarwari's mother's house a number of times in our time here; often enough that we actually know how to walk ourselves through the twisty turny alleys. Today, though, we had lunch at Sarwari's own house. As always, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I came away very relieved to see how nicely she and her children live. I knew nothing of the details below until three weeks ago when she invited us over.

About 15 years ago, Sarwari and her husband (who was still working then; before he became pretty much the deadbeat he is today) saved up Rs 15,000 to buy a small plot of land. They built a temporary "choppiri" house on it - corrugated metal and concrete, to provide some shelter from the elements, but not fantastic. About two years ago, just before she started working for us, she took out a loan from her brother-in-law to build a permanent concrete house, in a similar fashion to her mother's house: she and her family live ground floor, and the first and second floor have rooms for rent.

The construction languished for a bit because her husband's father's brother had a big surgery which all the families had to contribute to to pay for. Eventually with that paid off, she could again give some working capital to her brother in law, who in turn could finish construction. All in all, her brother in law financed seven lakh rupees (about $15K). They moved in six months ago, and her living area is probably about 2/3 the size of our condo in DC.

The brother-in-law takes about Rs 10,000 each month in rent from the rooms on the first and second floor. Plus, every now and then when Sarwari saves up a chunk of money, then she pays that to him, too. In some unspecified amount of time, when the basic loan plus interest is paid off, then Sarwari will be able to collect the rent herself, which will provide much needed financial security for her old age when she can no long work as hard as she does today.

Individual stories like this give me hope for India. The newspapers every day are filled with stories of someone cheating someone - or government employees siphoning off petrol from government cars and selling it for their own profit - or other waste and mistreatment of some sort. I get so discouraged because, as Greg commented, the general public hasn't yet seemed to have figured out the "prisoner's dilemma:" sometimes one can be better off in the long run by sacrificing in the short run.

Sarwari was dealt difficult cards. Her arranged marriage didn't turn out well, and her uncles all pressured her to divorce. She didn't feel that she could, though, since she had five younger sisters who all needed to be married - and there was no guarantee that a second husband would be any different from the first. Not to mention the problem of what to do with her children. So, she made the best of it, slowly taught herself English, worked hard, and today has her own house she can be proud of. Just imagine what could happen in India if everyone worked so hard and honestly - this country would be even more of a force to reckon with than it is today.

Only just barely above half

2010-12-09T08:00:00.001-08:00

Last year was fantastic with 89 posts ... and this year a measly 49 (this will be #50). I've been trying to decide if it's because having Patch around has made life a little more hectic or if it's because the crazy things in India aren't nearly as shocking the second year. Probably the later, is my current feeling, since Patch is such a laid back toddler (unless he's hungry). The three weeks with my arm in a cast didn't help much, either.

Generally these days we're sticking close to home. Especially after last weekend's near fatal almost-accident, we just don't want any bad surprises this close to leaving. After all, our two years have been quite enjoyable, so why tempt fate and spoil the last few weeks?

We did have a small adventure yesterday. I've been wanting to check out this shop for some time: http://daaram.blogspot.com/ but haven't managed to make it over yet. We planned to stop by after work on Wednesday, but an unseasonable rain meant Krishna had to stay at music class to take Wm and Sarwari home in the car. It wasn't raining by the office, so we decided to catch an auto to the store and have Krishna meet us there after dropping Wm home.

Having been here so long - and being able to speak Telugu - one thing we absolutely refuse to do is overpay for an auto. The distance was not far, so I was willing to pay max Rs 20 for what should be within the base Rs 12 fare. No one would give us a ride for under Rs 50, so we ended up walking on principle.

Then I couldn't quite remember the lane it was located on. We turned down one, and when we didn't see it, asked at a shop (in Telugu). The shop owner said "yes, I know daaram" and pulled out a box of thread, asking which color we wanted -- daaram means "thread". We all had a chuckle when I clarified it was the name of the shop I was looking for. Walking back to the main road, I stopped at another small shop for one of my favorite treats here - hot chips. I.e., freshly friend potato chips. Super YUM!

Still laughing at the Telugu double entendre and looking forward to eating my hot chips, I was suddenly moved to near tears. A little white street puppy we had seen nursing at its mother 15 minutes ago was whimpering awkwardly in the middle of the street, having been hit by some vehicle in the intervening time period. It's little black puppy sibling was on the side of the road making sad puppy crying sounds. I was surprised at how sad this made me - I hardly ever have any reaction to the street dogs and pretty much ignore them. But something about having seen it nursing just a short time before really got me.

Not having found the store, we went back to the main street and turned down the next lane which was deserted except for a few security guards. We asked them about the shop, and they immediately pointed to the building we were standing in front of (which had no sign board at all!) - and explained it was closed on Wednesdays. Oh well. The purpose of the trip was unsuccessful, but we did get a fun reminder of all the activity on small back streets we rarely see in the posh part of the city.

Happy Farewell to You!

2010-12-08T08:56:00.000-08:00

William's best friend in our apartment complex had a surprise farewell party for him yesterday with all of the "regular kids" who go down into the courtyard each evening. I was actually quite touched by our neighbor's thoughtfulness.

Our neighbor's daughter, like many Indians, has two birthdays. One is the day she was actually born on (Dec 6) and the other is the "auspicious day" they record for her birthday for school and government records. This is so strange to an American (can you imagine an American mother telling the hospital to record the birth on a different day for the child's fortune?), but having dealt with enough visas and passports over the last two years, I'm quite familiar with the concept.

Our neighbor has designated Dec 6 as her daughter's "Care and Share" day where they do something kind for somewhere else. Last year we went to their house and they invited a young disabled child whom they are sponsoring for school over for dinner. This year I assumed it would be the same, but imagine my surprise when they brought in a cake which said "Farewell William and Patrick" and the kids broke into "Happy Farewell to You!" (sung to the Happy Birthday tune).

I still don't think William quite understands that when we leave we won't ever be coming back, but it was nice to have a happy gathering with all his friends in our building to send him off. All the more so because it was such a surprise.

aggression, stupidity, and near-homicidal experiences

2010-12-05T04:16:00.000-08:00

Three things today reminded me that I'm not at home. (Well, more than three, but these three stand out.) They all happened on the way to William's school's bazaar, so I was a bit shaken up by the time we got there. Luckily the fresh grape juice calmed my nerves. (Have you ever had fresh grape juice? Really fresh, not from a jar/bottle/can/box? One of my new favorites.)

Anyway, here they are:

1. We were sitting in line at the gas station (or "petrol bunk" for some of you). The car in front was just finishing. Fuel cap on, fuel door closed, car in gear, and VROOM, here comes a car directly off the street, full speed, making a beeline for the pump. Having waited patiently for the car in front to finish, I did not take too kindly to this. Luckily, despite the astonishing aggressiveness on display, I was close enough to the car that had just finished that the jerk still didn't get to the pump before me. Instead, they looped around to the next one, where they had to wait (horrors!) a full three minutes for that car to finish. I wasn't surprised by the dirty looks I got from the male driver, but I was a bit taken aback by the evil eye his wife gave. I'm not sure I've seen that cruel a look from under a hijab before.

3. This is actually the last one, but I'm saving one for last. As we drove down the highway (at all of 40 mph, since it was an Indian car on an Indian highway after all), we passed a group of fools on motorbikes, the most foolish of whom was standing on the seat. At about 30 mph. On the highway. No helmet. He made it down safely that time, but one would have a hard time summoning too many tears for a Darwin Award candidate like that guy. Of course, his stupidity was no more egregious than the woman we had just seen in incident number...

2. On the same highway, only moments below Prakash Knievel pulled his little stunt, we were cruising along with nary a car in sight, at the Xylo's maximum comfortable speed of about 40 mph. I saw a couple hundred yards ahead of us in the lane just to our right a single person walking in the road (the highway, in case I didn't mention it) towards our lane, clearly not looking at the oncoming traffic. As drivers in this country are wont to do, I honked my horn. At this point, any rational person's thought process would lead them down a path ending with, "whoa, that onrushing car is a whole heck of a lot bigger than I am, and it's going darn fast. If it hit me, I'd probably get splattered into about a billion (100 crore) pieces all over this here road. I'd better just stand where I am so that car can just go right by me and I can be on my merry way." Note the inclusion of the word "rational". Instead, this apparently being an irrational person, she decided to RUN TOWARDS MY LANE, directly into the path of my speeding vehicle. Fortunately for her, us, and the RSO (who would have been the unhappy recipient of the first phone call), I was able to slam on my brakes and swerve just enough to miss her. I'm quite happy to have left a set of skid marks on the road rather than a bloody mess.

I'll save the analysis of this nerve-racking half hour for some other time, most likely not to take place in written form.

Your almost-homicidal correspondent,
Greg

It's all about dirt

2010-11-25T07:44:00.001-08:00

Once again, William has come to a turning point with his paci. Funny how he has twice managed to do this -- bite through his supposed "last paci" the day before we go on a trip (last time it was the night before we left on the fated Orissa trip, and now tomorrow we're leaving for Bangalore & Mysore). We tried to encourage him to leave it outside his room for the Paci Fairy to come ... but he wasn't having much of that idea.

Then I spotted his shovel and had an idea -- why didn't he dig a hole for his paci in the garden? He thought that sounded pretty fun, so we went out and planted the dead paci. He seemed pretty happy with that plan, and it had the added benefit that 30 minutes later, when we were reading stories and he asked for his paci again, I could truthfully say it was full of dirt and unable to be cleaned.

It was a bit of a long bed time routine, because of lack of paci. I had to tell many stories about a boy named Mailliw and his best friend Ayam (I couldn't figure out how Itahdnura would be pronounced, but now that I'm looking at it, I think I can add a new character) who live in the country of Aidni and take all kinds of adventures, which usually involve some swimming and some digging in the sand. Amazingly, we haven't had any tears - yet! We'll see how the night goes.

Oh - and I better find some of those presents we hid for when he does something very good! (assuming he makes it through the night without stealing Patch's paci)

Two times in one day!

2010-11-23T08:00:00.001-08:00

Poor Patrick. He has to say good bye two times in one day. Each morning, he starts to get upset as I get together my bag, put my shoes on and pick up my tea flask. Sarwari used to bring him to the door to wave bye bye, but these days he gets so sad its better for her to distract him as we slip out. When I get home from work at first he's o happy, but then he sees Sarwari pick up her purse and put her black shawl over her shoulders (she doesn't wear burqua or headscarf, but says she still thinks she should wear something), and he starts crying again. It's tough when you have to say good bye both morning and evening!

Speaking of Patch, I'll be interested to see what happens with him when we're in the US and he hears English exclusively all day long. At this age, William definitely communicated with words (even if they were only inteligible to me, Greg and Dr Aunt Beth). Patrick gestures, can shake his head no, and claps when he's finished eating ("All Done!"), so he obviously understands ... but no words. Speach delay is pretty normal for kids who hear two languages (Hindi and English, in his case) - so when the Hindi completely disappears from his life, I'm curious how quickly he'll start talking. Or, who knows, maybe he'll be one of those kids who doesn't say a word, and then suddenly at two speaks in perfectly gramatically correct sentences.

Just before we leave

2010-11-16T07:44:00.000-08:00

Greg's been trying to get William to learn some Hindi. It's harder than you would think, because Sarwari is very proud that she has taught herself English. Which means she doesn't really want to speak Hindi with William, despite our encouragements.

Tonight, I was playing with William (who, amazingly, said he wanted to play instead of watch Thomas. I was happy for the interaction, but slightly missing my usual 30 minutes of email time) and we were lining up his cars and trucks for various purposes such as going through gates, checking the signals, parking, etc.

Out of no where, he busted out some Hindi. I have no idea what he said. Our conversation followed as thus:

Pam: "William, I only speak Telugu, remember? No Hindi."

William: "But Mama, the drivers are speaking to each other."

Pam: "What did they say?"

William: "They only speak Hindi. You can't understand."

So, who knows what he was actually saying in Hindi ... I certainly don't. He has, apparently, picked up enough to make pretend driver conversation. Not to mention the cultural context of drivers speaking to each other without any need for me to understand.

Traveling with kids

2010-11-10T21:19:00.000-08:00

As I'm packing for a weekend trip, I realized we're starting - slowly - to move into the easier part of traveling with children. It's all a function of feeding and sleeping, regardless of age. My ranking on age vs. ease of travel is:

1. 0 - 4 months is the absolutely easiest, if the child is exclusively breastfed. Babies this small sleep anywhere at any time. They're completely clueless to where you are - and really don't care as long as you can take 20 minutes to sit and feed them or hug them close in a baby carrier for sleeping.

2. 2.5+ years comes next. For us, at least, after William was this big, his naps became very predictable. Food isn't an issue (assuming no allergies!) as the kid can eat all table food. So, just make sure to be at the hotel from 1 - 3:30, and all is good to go.

3. 1 - 2.5 years. Food is mostly not a problem (baby has graduated to table food and milk and juice). Nap time can be tricky because sometimes the toddlers like two naps (terrible for sightseeing!) and sometimes one - and sometimes none and they're cranky all day. But, if you're able to navigate the nap time issues, because the toddler is usually walking, it's easy for him to burn off that endless child-energy.

4. 4 months - 1 year. This is the absolute hardest time, in my opinion. The baby is wanting to crawl (yes, I know, 4 months is not a normal crawling age ... but this is what I was dealt with both boys), but floors when traveling are often less than clean - even if you're not in India. Food can be difficult since you have to pack baby food, figure out where to buy it, or constantly ask if a restaurant can puree things (though I've read of some beach resorts which are starting to stock it!). Plus, the baby is only just being introduced to foods (and traveling is not a time you want to discover a food allergy), so food options are limited.

The good news is, Patrick is out of Phase 4. We did pack some rice cereal, remaining baby food tubs, and a little formula - but mostly for comfort than necessity. He's walking (and looks so cute in William's old Crocs!), so our concerns about cleanliness are lessening. He's usually at one nap, and unlike William goes to sleep easily, so Phase 3 should be simpler with him than William.

I'm not 100% sure yet ... but it seems to me after eight years old traveling with the boys will seem like a piece of cake. At least, that's how old Beth was when I moved to Japan -- and I remember the two of us being pretty self sufficient on the planes. Hopefully William and Patch will take after us!

That Crazy American Mother

2010-11-06T07:16:00.001-07:00

I have a reputation. I am "that crazy American mother." My reputation in our apartment block was sealed tonight when the daughter of my underneath neighbor came up to visit. I invited her in, but she was scared of Bagwelle so we had to stand on the porch and chat.

After the necessary pleasantries, she confessed why she came to visit: her 3.5 month old son wasn't drinking a bottle and she was feeling like she was under house arrest (her mother in law didn't like her nursing in public). Her mother in law and her mother had run out of suggestions of how to encourage the baby to take a bottle so she could get out a bit (and regain her sanity). Then, her mother had a good idea: why don't you go upstairs and talk to that crazy American mother? Maybe she'll have some crazy American ideas that will work!

My reputation has been growing the two years we've been living here. First, I hardly gained any weight (by local standards) during pregnancy. I kept on working up until the day before Patrick was born. I ran around and played with William in the courtyard while pregnant! I even drove the car myself while (a) I was pregnant and (b) Greg was out of town. Can you imagine?

Then the craziness didn't stop after Patrick was born. I took Patrick downstairs when he was only two weeks old. I started my yoga practice again only two months after giving birth. I went back to work when Patrick was only three months old, and left him with Sarwari - not with my mother or mother in law! I went to Uzbekistan when Patrick was only 10 months, leaving Greg alone with two boys - the horrors! I took away Patrick's bottles at his one year birthday. Though Sarwari feeds Patrick some baby food, I also encourage him to eat pasta and bread and Cherrios by himself. What sort of cruel mother makes her baby self-feed?

And let's not even get started on what crazy ideas this American mother has when it comes to William. No biscuits or chocolates until after 5PM. He has to come home when I say it's time, even if it means I pick him up kicking and screaming. I let him walk the dog. I let him talk to the security guards and watch the cricket games the "tent people" play in the street. The list could go on.

Tonight when our neighbor came up for some of my crazy advice, she also became party to our biggest secret - Greg actually helps out with the kids! She saw him feeding Patrick his dinner after she finally found enough courage to come in (or perhaps curiosity to see our crazy American house). Greg reads bedtime stories to the boys and plays with them - and then picks up their toys. Not only is there a crazy American mother, but there's a crazy American father living upstairs - and, to top it off, she found out tonight we had a love marriage! Good thing I didn't tell her that Greg had to change all of Patrick's diapers the three weeks my arm was in a cast. That might just have been too much.

Despite these mind boggling ideas, I think I dispensed some sound advice to this poor new mother. I sympathized that her Indian moires would not allow her to nurse in public (though I told her I still did in HYD - but I'm a crazy American, after all). I gave her three of Patrick's old bottles with different nipples, and told her that some babies are sensitive to different types. I suggested she go to two different baby stores which sell import formula and get small samples - maybe her son doesn't like the taste of the Nestle formula here.

After she left, Greg and I wondered - what will our apartment complex do after we leave? Who will they turn to when the suggestions of both the mother and mother in law don't work? I suppose there's always the internet...

Return of the War Zone

2010-11-02T08:19:00.000-07:00

We wrote about it last year ... and again I must reiterate that Deepawali (Diwali in the north) is my least favorite of the Indian holidays. My dislike has nothing at all to do with the background behind the religious celebration and everything to do with noise and trash.

I hate to be a killjoy ... BUT ... the extra loud firecrackers which drive poor Bagwelle under the sofa, keep William from going to bed (not to mention hurt my ears if I'm outside too close), and leave debris all over the street in front of my building do absolutely nothing to endear the celebration to me. It starts building up and up to the final day - this Friday - when I'll once again get a sense of what it must sound like in a war zone.

Two insightful comments I heard in connection with Deepawali today:

1. From my yoga teacher: "I hope it starts raining at about 10PM on Friday. That way everyone can still have their fun and we can all go to sleep in peace."

2. From my coworker: "Whose bright idea was it to have Obama visit a city which has had two major bomb attacks in the recent past [Mumbai] on a night when everyone and his brother will be setting off firecrackers that sound like bombs?"

Moving logistics started

2010-11-02T08:11:00.000-07:00

We don't know when we're moving yet, but we do at least know that it will be cold when we're in the US. Given that it will be in the 70s in HYD, and about the same in Manila (if not warmer), this poses some interesting logistical issues for us.

Actually, for me and Greg, the logistics are pretty straight forward. We get to take two suitcases each as checked bags. So, one suitcase with our tropical clothes (both work and casual) and one suitcase with our winter clothes (again, for work and casual). For Patch, it won't be too difficult either because he'll be just about the size William was just before we moved to India. Patch is a bit bigger ... so we'll have to stuff his leg rolls into the pants, but for two months he can make do.

William's clothing situation, however, poses the biggest logistical obstacle. We have no winter clothes in 3T size. Nor do I really care to purchase a wardrobe for two months. What to do? Here's where I'm super thankful for family - and specifically for a cousin who has a son about a year older than William! 3T and 4T fleece? No problem. 12 long sleeve shorts and pants? Again, not an issue. A box has been packed up and will be delivered to my older sister's house in MD over Thanksgiving. Even shipping isn't a problem!

Once again, I feel like I'm at the end of a Sesame Street episode: "this program was brought to you by the letter F." Meaning, this job really wouldn't be possible if we didn't have the support of our family and friends back home. Or, it would be possible, but it certainly would be much more difficult without them (you!).

Slowly making progress

2010-10-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

You know what the boys are up to, so now an update on my other project - making sure Sarwari's children receive a good education.

The first quarter's exams were held just before Dasara (about three weeks ago) and exam results were given back at the parent teacher meeting this morning. First, I had to explain to Sarwari that it was OK for her to be late to work this morning (Saturday) so that she could go to the parent-teacher meeting. That was half the battle! Believe it or not, Greg and I can function by ourselves with two boys on a Saturday morning.

The teacher reported that Naheeda was making good progress. She passed her exams with a 103 / 200. Sarwari and Nazeema (the elder daughter) were so proud of her for passing. I know from a US perspective, the "F" grade and only just barely scraping by three points above the passing mark seems unacceptable. Indeed, if William came home with a 103/200 in fifth grade, Greg and I would probably be livid.

But this is a different case. When she took the admissions test for this school, the school wanted to place her in third grade. For developmental reasons (and with personal persuasion on my part), the principal agreed to allow her into fifth grade. When she started, her reading ability was very limited - what I would classify as first grade level at a US school. Naheeda and Sarwari have been sticking to the bargain, though. She goes for tutoring every evening for two hours with a teacher from her new school who lives in their neighborhood. She comes to our house each Saturday to review all her lessons with me. (I try to make the lessons fun - showing her pictures on the computer of things they read about, taking out a globe to point out the countries discussed in social studies class, using beans and toys (aka manipulatives) to illustrate math concepts.)

I told Sarwari from the beginning my goal was to make sure Naheeda passed fifth grade. Just passing. And then from sixth grade on, as she solidifies her foundation in math and English, she should focus on improving grades. The teacher told Sarwari today that Naheeda is not the best student by any means, but she was very happy with the progress Naheeda is making. At this point, that's fantastic news.

Armand, Sarwari's three year old son, is like a sponge - directly illustrating the importance of good early childhood education. A child who one year ago was screeching and barely speaking in Hindi (let alone English), just pointed to Bagwelle and said, "dog." Sarwari then asked (in English), what color Bagwelle is and he replied, "black." She (Sarwari) was beaming to be able to show me the results of the education.

I'm so relieved this has turned out well. Greg and I were very nervous we might be demanding too much, especially given Naheeda's educational background. The last thing we wanted was for her to fail and lose all confidence. Thankfully, everyone has stuck to her part of the agreement (me, Naheeda, Nazima and Sarwari), and we all received happy news today.

Boys' update

2010-10-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

The periodic update on the boys - well, mostly on Patch, since he's the one who's changing the most.

I think I'll be disappearing Patrick's bottles this weekend. Every time William has a cup or a sippy cup, Patch grabs at it and is totally engrossed by trying to drink out of it. While he's interested, I might as well make the transition, I think. Sarwari will be slightly upset with me, because it's easier for her to make sure he drinks his formula if he uses a bottle. Too bad, though! All babies must grow up, and on the mobility scale, Patch graduated from baby to toddler some months ago. High time, I say, that his eating and drinking skills do, too.

Patch easily climbs up stairs and is now getting frustrated using his hands and trying to walk up stairs. This later attempt is not welcomed! He is now trying to climb up everything - our bed, the sofa, William's toddler bed, dining room chairs, the kitchen cabinet, William's tricycle. I think you get the idea. Needless to say, he still requires constant supervision!

As much progress as he's making on the gross motor skill front, he's not very interested in learning words. Probably it's because he hears mostly Hindi during the day and not too much English from us. Since he can play well (e.g., kick a ball or put small objects into a bucket), I'm not worried - it's just different from William.

Speaking of comparison between the two boys, William continues to be a skinny minnie and Patch a chunko. William is only just in 3T clothes, while Patrick has outgrown almost all of his 12 month clothes and is wearing 18 month size. William still has some 18 month size shorts in his drawer! I didn't actually think that they would be wearing the same clothes at the same time so soon, but at this point, it's highly conceivable.

William is starting to get aware of the fact that we're leaving. He asks questions like "Who will watch me if I want to stay home while you go to the shops?" or "What will I eat for snack at school in America if there are no idlis?" We're trying to keep it very matter of fact so that moving isn't scary or sad - but I still imagine the next six months will be a little difficult with leaving here, having a transition period in the US, and then getting settled in Manila.

Saraswati pooja

2010-10-13T07:21:00.000-07:00

One thing we haven't explored much during our time here is religion. We haven't found any church service here that we're comfortable with, and without the weekly structured Christian teaching William and Patrick would get through a Sunday school program, I don't want to confuse them too much by participating in other religion's worship practices. Even though I definitely want to encourage learning about other religions and being open and tolerate, I just haven't decided for myself yet how comfortable I am with participating in other worships. I'm sure this will definitely continue to develop as we continue to live abroad.

This is why - 20 months later - William only just participated in his first pooja - a Saraswati pooja. Saraswathi is the Hindu goddess of learning (among other things). Today was her festival day as part of the Dussera (Navaratri) festival period. (Wikipedia it - I'm not going to attempt to describe what I only have a very basic understand of!). Our neighbor thus had a big pooja celebration for their daughter, who is William's age (and probably his best friend here).

A priest came to the house, and, in addition to the chanting and blessings, asked the little girl to draw the first letter of the Telugu alphabet in a plate of rice. This marked the official start of her official learning process, and will hopefully bring her good fortune for her continued studies. At least, this is what I understand from the various explanations I've been given.

We were at work, but Sarwari brought William over for the ceremony. Apparently, after about 4 minutes, the daughter was very upset and asked William to come sit next to her while the priest continued the blessings. Our neighbor was hesitant, because she didn't know how Greg and I felt about this, but while she and Sarwari were debating, William just went and plopped down next to his friend and the priest continued. Not wanting to make a double scene with both kids getting upset, they decided to allow the ceremony to continue (which is fine - had I been there, I would have agreed). The priest was only giving the blessings to the daughter, but then she asked the priest to bless William, too ... which he did.

Now I just have to wait for the videographer to bring over the tape so I can see what happened. William tried to give us an explanation when we got home - he was very animated and talked about mixing yellow and white flowers and coconuts and getting "red color" on his forehead, but I'm curious to see for myself.

First post in ages

2010-10-11T08:08:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling contemplative today, but I'm not exactly sure what I'm contemplating. And I suspect that I may start this post several times before writing something that's diplomatically-acceptable. Sorry, Kiwis and Aussies, I'll leave the diplomatic rows to you. So we'll see what kind of stream-of-consciousness rambling comes out.

The first interesting thing about today was the sad revelation that yet another American restaurant has begun its descent into normalcy. After a strong start featuring fries indistinguishable from the American outlets' and burgers with decent beef (a rarity in the land of the holy cow), Chili's seems to have lost its American management and its ability to stand out. Today's fries tasted like they came straight out of a freezer bag, sans crispiness and seasoning. The tortilla chips, still passable, had a hint of staleness. And I'll never understand, when the menu clearly lists each ingredient in the burger, right down to the last pickle, how renegade mayonnaise manages to slather its way onto the bun. Anyway, maybe it's still worth a visit if you're in the neighborhood and having a hankering for a giant pile of more-or-less-American-style fried goodness, but the Chili's honeymoon is over.

We've met a bunch of new people here over the past few weeks, several of them well worth knowing better. But we've also come to that time in our tour when we start to ask ourselves whether it's really worth the effort to get to know new people. That's not to disparage the people - there are always more interesting people out there, and you never know who's going to become a lifelong friend. But is there time? We're quickly counting down the weeks here (around 10 now), and it's awfully tempting to sit around the house and read a book or watch tv or play with the boys (we should do the latter anyway, of course) instead of being social. But that's not why we're here, really, and even after 170 interviews like I had on Friday, there's always more to be done, more connections to make, more events to attend, more opportunities to be out in the community.

What I think we're really hoping is that when we get to Manila, and as the boys get bigger, more and more of that socialization for us will be through them. It's a tough spot for us here demographically. The people we know who have kids are mostly several years older than us and, more importantly, live far enough away that it's prohibitive for a kid-friendly weekday event. And Pam and I are just not at the point where we're going to hit up the neighborhood pub for a pint on a Tuesday night. But if we're at a place with some other young parents of young kids a bit closer to home, I hope some of this will take care of itself.

Ok, that's all for now. I'll try not to go so long before the next one.

Memsahib means business

2010-10-02T06:25:00.000-07:00

I intentionally caused a stir today.

For three months, we've been unable to use three of four showers, all of which are on the "courtyard" side of our house. Only the single shower on the "road" side of the house (which has a completely separate pressure pump and supply tank) has been working. We've not suffered that much, since only two of us take showers. But, with two guests coming Thursday, I really wanted to get this problem fixed.

I couldn't really understand what the problem was and felt as if I was only getting half the story from everyone I talked to - whether at work or in my building's maintenance staff. So today I decided to get to the bottom of it - or rather, the top of it. Since I don't speak Hindi, and my building's maintenance staff doesn't speak Telugu, I asked Sarwari to call down to the security guards to ask them to meet me on the roof.

Up four of us went (and then Greg and William joined, since William doesn't ever miss a chance to see how the different machines on the roof work). Between me half understanding what the guards were saying in Hindi, and Sarwari half translating, I finally figured out the problem had to do with the location of the water pump -- it was too high vis-a-vis the water tank. Armed with this knowledge, it was time to call up the building's maintenance manager.

As I peeked over the side of the building to make sure the manager was coming, I noticed lots of people were watching from various porches. Servants from four different apartments were (unsuccessfully) trying to inconspicuously see what in the world *I* was doing on the roof. Only laundry washers and maintenance people are supposed to go up there!

Another thirty minutes later of back and forth in half Hindi, half English, the building manager finally agreed to move the pump. I have no idea why it took three months for this to be worked out, but I think that by going to the top of the roof, it was pretty apparent to the entire apartment complex that I wasn't going to leave until something was figured out.

We'll see in tomorrow morning's shower if the problem really is fixed.

(PS - William had a great time watching the elevator gears go round and round.)

Knowing the time

2010-10-01T19:43:00.001-07:00

It doesn't always happen this way, but right now we have a great outside reminder between the Catholic church to the east and the mosque to the west of us. Church bells ringing each morning around 6:30 mean we're late walking Bagwelle (if we're not already outside). Prayer call at about 6PM means it's time to stop playing in the courtyard and go upstairs for dinner. The last call just after 8PM means it's past bedtime.

It's great having these outside cues for a three year old who can't tell time and for me, whose favorite Skaagen watch broke. It also reminds me of Tokyo when loud speakers in many areas play a certain song at 5:30 - I always called it the "children, time to go home" song.