best impressions

I have been planning to change my blog header for a some time now, since as I wrote last time, our baby is not really a baby anymore. So last spring, in the absence of matching blue button down shirts, I thought about taking a picture in Easter clothing, and realized, once again, that Sunday best doesn't always encourage best behavior.

It makes me think about the time in family history, when during our first stay in northern Virginia, we were scheduled to make an appearance at the State Department, down in the Foggy Bottoms in Washington DC. The people in charge of assigning new foreign service officers to their first post wanted to get to know each of the families, so they could assure a good match.  I dressed our then four little ones, between the ages of six and not yet two,  in their best church clothes, including as I specifically remember, the boys' stiff, surely uncomfortable, brown Sunday shoes, because I thought it would help them make a good impression. 

Upon entering the large crowded building, and successfully passing through the maze of security, six year-old Sam, our gadget man even then, was immediately drawn to a simple wooden pedestle topped with a large and glowing, red button.  His youthful hand reached out to explore its function, and immediately a guard darted toward him to stop it.

"That evacuates the building!" He said.  

Colin Powell and all. We were off to an interesting start. 

We walked down and around the long, hollow, basement hallways to the little tomb of an office where we waited past the point of good mood or manners before we were called in for our turn.  I remember how confined we felt as we finally filed in the room.  I was enormously pregnant with Olivia, who was born shortly after, and Kyle and Bethany surely struggled and shoved to conquer the remaining territory of my lap. I am sure that Sam, who inherited his mother's fascination with what's-for-lunch, had that on his mind. Stomachs growling, heads aching, brown shoes kicking, some crying, the rest barely smiling, we turned our list of twenty-five would- be posts over to the interviewer.  He had no problem with our top choices, mostly in China, as I remember. He smiled with approval at number twenty-five, Ciudad Juarez...suckers, and then grew concerned as he looked down at the eastern European countries on the bottom half of the list, the posts where he, not being the biggest optimist ever, probably assumed we would be placed. 

"Vilnius," he said.

 "Too cold."  

He looked at me. "Can you imagine being cramped up in a tiny Lithuanian house, with your children, in the dead of winter?" he asked. 

 He seemed to have a good imagination.

"Take it off the list," he said.

His point was well received, and we agreed to investigate an alternative post.  Port-au-Prince, Haiti was his suggestion. Upon our research we decided he must have secretly hated children, if not all children, then ours at least.  And as we feared from reading about the civil unrest and violence at the post, a few months later the country was in a coup d'etat. Maybe he thought we would fit right in.  I think we might have left Vilnius on our list. I can't remember.

So back to 2012.  This behavior hardly compares to a coup-d'etet. You can see that everyone, minus Sophie, is trying to appease their mom, this lady with a camera, who knows nothing about how to photograph large groups of children, even her own, but is too cheap to hire a professional.

  We'd been to three hours of church. They were hungry, tired of being dressed up, and wanting their Easter baskets yesterday.  So who is to blame?  Me. These pictures, as beautiful as they are, and as good natured as these kids were trying to be, are another reminder, like that day in the Foggy Bottoms, that I should have been more concerned about their comfort than a good impression.  I'm sure there will be more reminders to come...but someday I will catch on.

William through the fish eye.

Here are a few pictures from the barbecue we had at Granddad and Lala's house, Easter 2012.

Sam was looking like Quentin Tarantino here,  and demonstrating that he is taller than his Granddad now.

temple of heaven

Last week I went with Bethany's class to the Temple of Heaven. The students brought cameras to take pictures of instances of balance and motion and examples of arrays. We all stood to watch this couple play tai chi ball for ten minutes or so. The man never stopped smiling. Their movements were amazingly fluid.

Observing the local life is always the most interesting part of visiting the Temple of Heaven. It drives some of my children crazy...too much going on at one time. These ladies were line dancing to loud, popular Chinese music right next to the group below who were singing communist era songs accompanied by a brass band, and these groups were surrounded by three of four other groups involved in their own artistic expression, all of it loud.

Here are a few of Bethany's arrays. I liked the dignitaries of the Temple of Heaven Poker cards.

Bethany found a replica of the beaded hat she bought on her first trip to the Great Wall in 2004.

Bethany and her teacher. The day was windy and unseasonably cold, but here they are with at least one sign of Spring.


So I 'm a bit behind. Two weeks ago, Tuesday, Mary and I walked with her kindergarten class through the Bai xin zhuang village next to ISB to the Roundabout. They were practicing their map reading skills. Mary's teacher drew up a quite idyllic map to help them find landmarks to guide their way. This brown body of water behind Mary was referred to as "the lake." I felt sad to see the pollution all along the road. We couldn't even let the children peek behind the gates to see "the lake" because they would have had to climb over a pile of litter. For all our American whining about too much government intervention, we should be grateful that our streets are clean, and our children don't have to play in refuse. It made me sad that our ayis who work so hard to help us keep our home clean don't have a clean environment to return to.

Here we are at The Roundabout thrift store. Miss Leslie, the director gave the children a tour of the shop and took them in the back where they sort through the items. Some are to send to areas like Sichuan, in need of Humanitarian aid, some are to sell to locals and ex-pats, then the money goes to local charity. Miss Leslie is an amazing woman. She put in a plug with the kids to gather up some of their unwanted toys for donation. I was happy about that.

After the tour she fed the kids a snack. That field trip was before the Xinhai earthquake. Now I feel even more motivation to sort through and give away because Miss Leslie has started a new drive for the Xinhai area.

So speaking of sorting through and packing up that's all I have to report for myself. I've made it almost through the girls' bedroom, waiting for the daunting puzzles tubs, then I'm on to Bethany's books. We still don't know where Rob will be assigned for next year, but I have felt peace with the idea that the kids and I need to return to the U.S. Hence the packing. It is therapy for this eery anxious feeling that at some point in the summer Rob's job will end and our ex-pat world will fold up like a movie set, even ISB seems to be losing it's strength to me, fading out of what should be our present reality, losing it's pull on the inevitable, without my knowing how to replace it, so I'm just boxing and organizing, so if we should fall out of existence, at least our things would be well-managed.

All right that was a bit dramatic, speaking of ISB. Olivia's class presented Poetry Under the Stars. Olivia shared her poem about a mermaid.

two birthdays and a funeral

I have compulsive move planning disorder. I would like to escape from my own thoughts about moving...but the question is where...

and then I'm back to planning.

My mind is like a radio on search mode, looking for a signal strong enough to land on. I think about the familiar comforts of this place and the opportunities in that place. I hear Mary singing in Chinese, a song about a "little well-behaved rabbit" and I think "stay in China."

But the sun also rises in Beijing, in a word, eerily, like the mysterious dawning of a new red orb shrouded in grey film.

"Is that the moon Mama?" "Is that Mars?"

...and health issues become a concern. Airlift us please! We need real sunlight.

Here's a picture of Thursday morning. I just sent the kids off to the bus stop. I hope they find their way. I'm sure this is mostly fog, but it doesn't smell good.

I think about how to make everyone happy. Saturday morning I was getting Grant ready for the day.

"Mama, I go see lion." He said.

I think about a place with a good zoo...Salt Lake City, D.C.

"I go jungle." He says with a roar.

Sorry Grant. I'm not thinking about Africa.

Saturday afternoon, Olivia and Sora were looking for something on the refrigerator.

"Where's that picture of Michael Jackson?" She asked.

"You mean the magnet I bought in Nashville?" I asked.

"That's Elvis."

Easy mistake. Does anyone have a copy of Third Culture Kids?

What does any of this have to do with cherry pie? Monday February 22, we celebrated George Washington's birthday with our traditional cherry pie.

I think it's kind of too bad that we have President's Day and Martin Luther King Day on a convenient Monday, It makes me forget the real date, and you don't feel the real aura of history. Having said that, we also celebrated Abraham Lincoln Monday night, with our second annual Chicken Fricassee dinner. Last year, I had Kyle Google Abraham Lincoln's favorite foods, that's what we came up with.

It took me all day to make this and the pie . I think everyone would have preferred if I had stopped at the crunchy fried chicken pieces stage...

... but after the frying stage you have to add water to make a gravy and then boil the dumplings in it.

I couldn't sleep Monday night. That meal was so rich that when I closed my eyes, I just saw simmering dumplings.

Monday afternoon, Ben made a sad discovery. Stripe, his turtle of two years had passed on. He was heartbroken and in tears, but cheered up when I suggested a burial.

Grant pronounced the eulogy.

"Turtle is died."

My two favorite words

My two favorite words: international potluck

Its always a pleasure to spend time at the school (barring the counselors office...I've done that too.) I was especially excited to spend time with Kyle's class today. The third graders were presenting their Cultural Museum. They have been long in the preparation....actually we kind of procrastinated and lost things here and there so we have been more short and urgent in the preparation. But it was a nice opportunity to discuss American culture, history, values and beliefs with Kyle. He is especially interested in Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King.


So they all covered shoe boxes with white paper and decorated them with pictures from their cultures, which are certainly varied, and filled them with artifacts. Kyle brought money, a baseball pendant, some Obama pins, a Book of Mormon, a picture of our family by the Lincoln Memorial, a picture of his great-grandpa Alden, a book about Martin Luther King Jr. They gave short presentations wearing costumes from their country. Kyle wore his church suit. He was a federal agent. (I don't know why he didn't want to be a consular officer.) Then we got to wander about and appreciate the boxes of several classes. I think there are about five third grade classes. I'm telling you this is a big school.


The best part is the school tradition of lining the hallways with the foods. Everyone is tempted to take pictures because its like a mini world tour.


I feel kind of emotional at this time of year when all the field trips, picnics, performances start up. Wednesday I got to celebrate Earth Day with Olivia's kindergarten class. They had a litter-less picnic. It was a bit of a challenge to pack a lunch with no paper involved. I had to smile when one Mom showed up with a big take-out box of pizza. I think something got lost in translation. Its just great to spend a little time in their territory...cherishing this time of their lives.