Today was orientation today. They put me in a huge room with hundreds of other people today. For many of them, this will be the second, third, or even the fourth language they are going to learn at the Foreign Service Institute. One of the speakers today said that they are presently teaching over 70 world languages and have people working their from over 90 different countries. Those figures were astounding to me. Not only do they have teachers for all of these languages; but they have a process that they liken to "Marine Bootcamp" for teaching and learning languages.
You have to forget all of the languages you know (including English) and start out like a toddler, learning his/her first word...words...sentences...conversations. To become truly fluent, they make us read, write, speak, repeat. We're (and I am paraphrasing from the info they gave us today but have also been through this once before when learning Spanish) supposed to welcome mistakes and corrections and learn from them. It's mind-numbing, headache inducing, and overwhelming; but it is one of the most effective language learning processes in the world.
But what REALLY wowed and impressed me today was when we had to introduce ourselves. My class and another language class were in the second (yes, you read that right) orientation of the day, and the department head asked us to introduce ourselves and list previous language learning experiences at FSI and all languages spoken by each person. There were eight of us in there, and I heard: Spanish, French, Chinese, Russian, Ukrainian, Arabic, Korean; and we were all in there to learn either Albanian or Hungarian. Most of the people knew at least two languages, with a lot of them repeated of course. I mean, am I the only person impressed by the sheer amount of knowledge in that one little room? Because with each language learned comes classes on the country or area of the world, politics, economics, culture, customs, etc. They don't just teach us what the word is, they teach us why THAT particular word is used. I don't know, it just impressed me. It made me proud to be part of this. It made me proud of my country and the people who serve it.
Tomorrow, I actually start learning the language. I know it's going to be excruciating, because I've seem my husband come home exhausted and almost broken for five months now. But I believe that the independence knowing a bit of the language will give me is going to be well worth it. I love people, and I love to learn; so I'm just glad I get the opportunity. And I will be so thankful that I actually get to speak with people on their own terms once I get there...fingers crossed.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
We're Starting Another Chapter
The last few months have been Foreign Service "lite" so to speak. We've been "in training" rather than "at post" or "in route," etc.
We've been living around Foreign Service families with Foreign Service concerns and questions like: "Where are you going next?" or "Do you get language with that?" or "What do you use your consumables for?" rather than everyone else's questions of: "What do you do?" or "So you think it's fun to pack up your kids every two years and move to a different country?" or "Where are you living now?" and even, "What language do they speak in Albania??"
You see, as I've explained before, this lifestyle is not measured in normal weeks or months between Summer vacations or in seasons of the year and things like that. This lifestyle is measured in tours and times in between them. We're ALWAYS waiting for something: to bid, to get assignments, researching bid lists, training, home leave, R&R, getting reimbursed or advanced for random costs, getting kids and pets vaccinated, packing, waiting and/or planning to pack, buying stuff to pack, preparing for housing, or waiting to pass a language test and/or get our orders. Because NOTHING can be done without orders. Our orders are our lives when in between tours like we are now. If it's not in our orders--perfectly--we don't get it.
These periods of waiting and/or planning are usually six-month cycles. When you're in the middle of a tour (or coming to the end of one), you find out where your next tour is going to be about six months before your current tour is up. Six months before that, you were starting to think about what "might" be on the bid list. If you're anything like me, you'd begin obsessively researching the hidden jewel places that might suit your needs/wants. And so it was with us.
We decided on Albania. If I had a dollar for every time I or my husband's been asked, "So you actually bid Albania HIGH? You wanted to go there?" I'd be a very rich woman. And the answer is a resounding, YES!! We're excited about this place, this country, this quite mysterious part of the world. I mean, we're either going to love it; or we're going to hate it. There are not very many in-betweens in this lifestyle. And, for us, that's perfectly okay. I truly believe we're going to love it, though--for the travel opportunities if nothing else.
So, after taking you through a very long, yet circular tangent into my life, we're back to the six-month cycle.
My husband and I got our housing assignment today. We have been lucky so far this tour, because we've gotten our first choice bid and our first choice housing section. We're going to be living in a community that will be absolutely wonderful for our boys to grow in: a large, safely gated American neighborhood that is full of kids living a life just like them. I can't think of any better scenario for them, as they're thriving in that lifestyle here where we're living now. Now, it's true that we're going to be living in a bit of a fishbowl, but we know that going in. Now begins the six months (actually, five this time) of planning for our move, arrival, etc. Our easy, carefree first six months back in the States are over. Game time commences.
My sweet husband is coming along beautifully in Albanian class, and I am supposed to start at the end of the month. Then we have to plan for consumables, trips to Goodwill to rid ourselves of locally acummulated crap, vaccines, medical clearance updates, traveling with pets, planning how to alter our govy issued furniture, etc.
Our vacation has ended; it's time to plan. Wish us luck. Oh, and we know most people think we're crazy to live this nomadic existence. But know this: it works for us. We're happy. We're doing exactly what we want to do in this life, and that makes us extremely lucky!
We've been living around Foreign Service families with Foreign Service concerns and questions like: "Where are you going next?" or "Do you get language with that?" or "What do you use your consumables for?" rather than everyone else's questions of: "What do you do?" or "So you think it's fun to pack up your kids every two years and move to a different country?" or "Where are you living now?" and even, "What language do they speak in Albania??"
You see, as I've explained before, this lifestyle is not measured in normal weeks or months between Summer vacations or in seasons of the year and things like that. This lifestyle is measured in tours and times in between them. We're ALWAYS waiting for something: to bid, to get assignments, researching bid lists, training, home leave, R&R, getting reimbursed or advanced for random costs, getting kids and pets vaccinated, packing, waiting and/or planning to pack, buying stuff to pack, preparing for housing, or waiting to pass a language test and/or get our orders. Because NOTHING can be done without orders. Our orders are our lives when in between tours like we are now. If it's not in our orders--perfectly--we don't get it.
These periods of waiting and/or planning are usually six-month cycles. When you're in the middle of a tour (or coming to the end of one), you find out where your next tour is going to be about six months before your current tour is up. Six months before that, you were starting to think about what "might" be on the bid list. If you're anything like me, you'd begin obsessively researching the hidden jewel places that might suit your needs/wants. And so it was with us.
We decided on Albania. If I had a dollar for every time I or my husband's been asked, "So you actually bid Albania HIGH? You wanted to go there?" I'd be a very rich woman. And the answer is a resounding, YES!! We're excited about this place, this country, this quite mysterious part of the world. I mean, we're either going to love it; or we're going to hate it. There are not very many in-betweens in this lifestyle. And, for us, that's perfectly okay. I truly believe we're going to love it, though--for the travel opportunities if nothing else.
So, after taking you through a very long, yet circular tangent into my life, we're back to the six-month cycle.
My husband and I got our housing assignment today. We have been lucky so far this tour, because we've gotten our first choice bid and our first choice housing section. We're going to be living in a community that will be absolutely wonderful for our boys to grow in: a large, safely gated American neighborhood that is full of kids living a life just like them. I can't think of any better scenario for them, as they're thriving in that lifestyle here where we're living now. Now, it's true that we're going to be living in a bit of a fishbowl, but we know that going in. Now begins the six months (actually, five this time) of planning for our move, arrival, etc. Our easy, carefree first six months back in the States are over. Game time commences.
My sweet husband is coming along beautifully in Albanian class, and I am supposed to start at the end of the month. Then we have to plan for consumables, trips to Goodwill to rid ourselves of locally acummulated crap, vaccines, medical clearance updates, traveling with pets, planning how to alter our govy issued furniture, etc.
Our vacation has ended; it's time to plan. Wish us luck. Oh, and we know most people think we're crazy to live this nomadic existence. But know this: it works for us. We're happy. We're doing exactly what we want to do in this life, and that makes us extremely lucky!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Waiting on the World to Change
We took our boys to the Smithsonian Museum of American History today, and it was really moving. There's an entire section of the museum that deals with the history of African-Americans from the time of the Emancipation Proclamation all the way through the Civil Rights era. My husband I debated whether or not to bring the kids through it, because race is something we just don't discuss in our home. We don't feel that race is important; therefore, all we've ever told the children is that people are a rainbow of colors and are all beautiful. Being different is beautiful. We don't refer to a person's color; so the kids never really notice there's a difference.
My husband pulled them aside and explained what slavery is/was. When he told my oldest son that white people held black people in captivity and owned them, my son immediately asked, " Dad, what's a black person?" I was so moved by that and so proud of us. I mean, he's nearly six years old!
It's like my husband told me later, "We grew up knowing inequality first and learning tolerance later. I'm glad it's going to be the opposite way for our boys." My kids do not understand differences in races in any kind of negative way at all. In fact, they just don't notice it. People are people. I think that's a gift we've given them. It was sad--and a bit embarrassing--to have to tell them that people owned other people because those people were different from them.
The saddest part for me was that all of today's children could be like mine if only my generation and the generations before mine would see that race does not define a person. We're doing our children a disservice by pointing out differences; we should be pointing out similarities. We need to teach unity rather than division. I don't mean to sound preachy or anything like that; I simply saw the world through a child's eyes today. And I like what I saw. And I'm truly glad that my little family is trying to make a difference--even if only by two children at a time. My husband also wisely pointed out that this is how it starts.
Our children will teach others and then will teach their children one day. It moved me in a way that is really hard for me to put into words right now. In essence, everyone wants to grow up and "change the world." Today, we did.
My husband pulled them aside and explained what slavery is/was. When he told my oldest son that white people held black people in captivity and owned them, my son immediately asked, " Dad, what's a black person?" I was so moved by that and so proud of us. I mean, he's nearly six years old!
It's like my husband told me later, "We grew up knowing inequality first and learning tolerance later. I'm glad it's going to be the opposite way for our boys." My kids do not understand differences in races in any kind of negative way at all. In fact, they just don't notice it. People are people. I think that's a gift we've given them. It was sad--and a bit embarrassing--to have to tell them that people owned other people because those people were different from them.
The saddest part for me was that all of today's children could be like mine if only my generation and the generations before mine would see that race does not define a person. We're doing our children a disservice by pointing out differences; we should be pointing out similarities. We need to teach unity rather than division. I don't mean to sound preachy or anything like that; I simply saw the world through a child's eyes today. And I like what I saw. And I'm truly glad that my little family is trying to make a difference--even if only by two children at a time. My husband also wisely pointed out that this is how it starts.
Our children will teach others and then will teach their children one day. It moved me in a way that is really hard for me to put into words right now. In essence, everyone wants to grow up and "change the world." Today, we did.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Trailing Spouses
I'm pretty sure I've written about Foreign Service spouses before, but I've really been thinking about them lately. Back in the day they/we were called "trailing spouses," but that's not really the "PC" term now. I was lucky in a sense that I was still in school when I met my husband. I hadn't established myself in a certain field ; I didn't have a career yet. I know that for me, we move from place to place and country to country with the hope that there will be some kind of way where I can bring home a paycheck. We got lucky in Ecuador and Canada, and I was able to bring home some bacon of my own. Granted, I worked full-time in Canada and was able to pay for childcare and groceries every month; but you take what you can get in this lifestyle.
When I look around this apartment complex, I see every kind of woman and/or mother. Some of these women (and a LOT of men too!!) had lives and careers of their own that they gave up to travel the world their spouse. A lot of spouses are actually foreign born and were met while the AMCIT/officer was at a foreign post. A lot of women home school their children, take in other people's FS kids during the day to bring home a pay check, or try to find a hobby. I know jewelry makers, knitters, seamstresses, bakers, cooks, crafters, painters, artists, etc., who learned their craft as a(n) FS spouse. I myself am a novice bookbinder--and I use that in the loosest sense of the word!
Many of us leave our homes, our families, our jobs, our schools, our countries, our language, and/or our entire WORLD to live this life and serve our country. I like to think and hope that we do this because of the love we have for our country and our spouse, because this can be a pretty brutal lifestyle at times. I live this life because I have everything I've ever wanted (except for that elusive baby girl I keep dreaming about). But I can say without reservation that this is not a perfect or a fairy tale lifestyle. We have one of the highest divorce rates in the country, btw.
I see people, and mothers, and couples that really struggle, not only to make ends meet (since we're not rich), but also struggle daily to keep the family unit intact, to stay in touch with the people we've left behind--and continuously meet and leave behind--to make sure that our children understand that they are Americans and what that means, to keep American traditions and holidays alive in our small communities, and struggle just to get up in the morning on occasion. I know, personally, how I feel about living this life varies almost weekly. My husband I are constantly trying to teach our kids what it means to be an American; the elections were big in our house and what they mean for Americans were a great lesson on patriotism.
But getting back to the topic at hand--Foreign Service spouses--I just want to say that I'm equally amazed by and proud of us. We get to do what so many people only dream about. But we REALLY do it. We get dropped into countries and left to our own devices, to make our mistakes, to acclimate, and to represent the United States overseas. I mean, times have changed; don't get me wrong. The Dept. of State does not expect me to be a perfect hostess and to speak the language flawlessly. But we are extensions of our officer spouses; so there is always that thought lingering in our minds that this might be a test or turn into some kind of international incident if something goes horribly awry :).
I am just so proud of my fellow trailing spouses. I know so many people who are going to countries where English is not at all common, and they aren't able to take language classes or don't want to. I know people who are going to or coming back from countries with small children where healthcare is but substandard. I've heard the myths and know the realities--just like my fellow FS spouses--but we're still here...waiting to get to post. We spend half of our lives settling in or planning for the next one. Some get Paris; some get...really unpleasant places. And we all seem to wind up here in Falls Church every few years.
Asking people "where are you heading to?," is the norm here. People are learning languages I have never even heard of! I've never heard of so many "-stan" countries in my life! But, again, I am amazed and proud by the sense of community and understanding I find here. Everyone looks after all the kids at the playground. We never worry about our safety here. We tell stories that would make the faint of heart...well, faint!! I live for evenings outside where we take turns telling horror stories from abroad. There's a lot to be said for stories and memories and living. And that's what we're doing, day by day and hour by hour.
When I look around this apartment complex, I see every kind of woman and/or mother. Some of these women (and a LOT of men too!!) had lives and careers of their own that they gave up to travel the world their spouse. A lot of spouses are actually foreign born and were met while the AMCIT/officer was at a foreign post. A lot of women home school their children, take in other people's FS kids during the day to bring home a pay check, or try to find a hobby. I know jewelry makers, knitters, seamstresses, bakers, cooks, crafters, painters, artists, etc., who learned their craft as a(n) FS spouse. I myself am a novice bookbinder--and I use that in the loosest sense of the word!
Many of us leave our homes, our families, our jobs, our schools, our countries, our language, and/or our entire WORLD to live this life and serve our country. I like to think and hope that we do this because of the love we have for our country and our spouse, because this can be a pretty brutal lifestyle at times. I live this life because I have everything I've ever wanted (except for that elusive baby girl I keep dreaming about). But I can say without reservation that this is not a perfect or a fairy tale lifestyle. We have one of the highest divorce rates in the country, btw.
I see people, and mothers, and couples that really struggle, not only to make ends meet (since we're not rich), but also struggle daily to keep the family unit intact, to stay in touch with the people we've left behind--and continuously meet and leave behind--to make sure that our children understand that they are Americans and what that means, to keep American traditions and holidays alive in our small communities, and struggle just to get up in the morning on occasion. I know, personally, how I feel about living this life varies almost weekly. My husband I are constantly trying to teach our kids what it means to be an American; the elections were big in our house and what they mean for Americans were a great lesson on patriotism.
But getting back to the topic at hand--Foreign Service spouses--I just want to say that I'm equally amazed by and proud of us. We get to do what so many people only dream about. But we REALLY do it. We get dropped into countries and left to our own devices, to make our mistakes, to acclimate, and to represent the United States overseas. I mean, times have changed; don't get me wrong. The Dept. of State does not expect me to be a perfect hostess and to speak the language flawlessly. But we are extensions of our officer spouses; so there is always that thought lingering in our minds that this might be a test or turn into some kind of international incident if something goes horribly awry :).
I am just so proud of my fellow trailing spouses. I know so many people who are going to countries where English is not at all common, and they aren't able to take language classes or don't want to. I know people who are going to or coming back from countries with small children where healthcare is but substandard. I've heard the myths and know the realities--just like my fellow FS spouses--but we're still here...waiting to get to post. We spend half of our lives settling in or planning for the next one. Some get Paris; some get...really unpleasant places. And we all seem to wind up here in Falls Church every few years.
Asking people "where are you heading to?," is the norm here. People are learning languages I have never even heard of! I've never heard of so many "-stan" countries in my life! But, again, I am amazed and proud by the sense of community and understanding I find here. Everyone looks after all the kids at the playground. We never worry about our safety here. We tell stories that would make the faint of heart...well, faint!! I live for evenings outside where we take turns telling horror stories from abroad. There's a lot to be said for stories and memories and living. And that's what we're doing, day by day and hour by hour.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Something to Relate To
Home leave is over, and our year in the D.C. area for training has begun. It's so strange to be back here in these apartments again. We were here four years ago, when my hubby joined the Foreign Service and was in training the first time. I had post-partum so bad that I never went anywhere or did anything. I wasn't working, was far away from home for the first time for more than a few weeks, had a new baby, had a newish husband, and had just signed our lives away to the State Department for at least a year. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, and I didn't know how to handle it at all. Well, two tours, a foreign language, and another kid later, I am really liking it here.
I've got the boys involved in all the activities going on in the complex; I found a Montessori school for my youngest w/ a half-day program; and my oldest is going to be in the best public kindergarten in the country. I'm even making "friends" rather quickly. This is a whole new world to me.
The moms that I've met at the playground are mostly a couple of tours in (at least) and understand the many ins and outs of FS life. Talk revolves around language training, countries lived in, languages learned, pros and cons of various postings, incredible stories of what they've experienced in countries like: Eritrea, Japan, China, Lesotho, Nicaragua, etc. We speak each other's language and all have kids who are transitioning between new and old schools, languages, homes, countries, nannies, and lives. It's just so refreshing not to have to explain my life for once; rather I get to talk to people who are going through the same thing for once!!!
Another really neat perk about living here is that we're able to see a lot of people that we haven't seen for a few years/tours. I've been catching up with my best friend from when we were in Ecuador.
I've got the boys involved in all the activities going on in the complex; I found a Montessori school for my youngest w/ a half-day program; and my oldest is going to be in the best public kindergarten in the country. I'm even making "friends" rather quickly. This is a whole new world to me.
The moms that I've met at the playground are mostly a couple of tours in (at least) and understand the many ins and outs of FS life. Talk revolves around language training, countries lived in, languages learned, pros and cons of various postings, incredible stories of what they've experienced in countries like: Eritrea, Japan, China, Lesotho, Nicaragua, etc. We speak each other's language and all have kids who are transitioning between new and old schools, languages, homes, countries, nannies, and lives. It's just so refreshing not to have to explain my life for once; rather I get to talk to people who are going through the same thing for once!!!
Another really neat perk about living here is that we're able to see a lot of people that we haven't seen for a few years/tours. I've been catching up with my best friend from when we were in Ecuador.
Monday, April 16, 2012
I Can't See The Light Yet
We're short-timers here in Canada; we only have a couple of months left. I wish I could say that we are excited to be leaving, excited for the move, that whole drill. Moving in itself can be really exciting, unless it's something you have to do every couple of years.
Right now, we're planning two moves actually: one back to Washington, D.C. and one to Albania a year or so after that. I've got to plan both moves in advance, and it's truly a logistical nightmare. I have to plan for what we will need immediately (during home leave), what we'll HAVE to have while we're in an itty bitty apartment in D.C. (pretty much clothes and toys, because we can't have much), what we're going to need in Albania (we'll have a furnished house with no option to politely decline things that might not go with our decor), things that we want to keep forever but have to put into storage, and plan what things we want to get rid of (such as the two tons of toys my kids will never miss but won't let our of their sight).
So there's that planning, for which I've created an epic spreadsheet to keep it all straight. Then there's the home leave planning: making sure we get to see everyone we love and that we get an ample amount of time with each of them, while praying we can get some down time to enjoy our Congress-ordered "vacation."
Then there's the logistical nightmare of actually getting out of Canada with both boys, both cats, etc. Imagine everything you'd have to take care of in order to move from one country to another. The thing is that because we live in a place as "America-like" like Canada, much of the work that was taken care of for us in Ecuador (due to language barriers, etc.) just isn't done here. Yeah, I know how that sounds; but it's true. The lists of things that we have to do between home/jobs/kids/car/pet export and import/etc. are just inches thick of paperwork. I know, I know: Poor pitiful us! It's not hard, per se; it's just time-consuming and and really detailed. It's overwhelming; that's the word I was looking for. It's honestly easier to move from a "foreign" country to another "foreign" country than this.
Okay, enough of that. Another really difficult--okay, infuriating--thing that's really frustrating is that I can't register my oldest for school until we're actually in D.C. and have our address and all that. Well, we're not going to be able to swing getting there any earlier than a week before school starts. Big deal, right? Well, not so much. Because we can't register him, we can't get on the after school care list either. So he may not get a spot; and so then what? Guess I'll see in August/September. And my youngest...that's another obstacle. There's actually a free preschool program at the school, but you have to put your name in a lottery to get a chance at grabbing a spot. Well, you can't put your name in....unless you are in residence there already!!! So no free preschool for us. Okay. What about daycare? Well, the United States is amazing and has so many great programs. The only problem is that you have to qualify for them. Stay with me, here. There's a childcare subsidy that we could get for Emerson, which would help us pay around 20% of that $1000/mo bill. Only we don't qualify for it because we "make too much money." Hey, I understand that completely. That money should go to people who REALLY need it. The problem is that whether or not you qualify for next year depends on THIS year's tax returns. Well, I won't be working NEXT year because I'll be learning Albanian and other courses (if I get a spot), which is why I will need that subsidy so bad. We're going to be taking a 40% hit on our income when I quit working! It just sucks. It's just that this once we really need to be able to use those great programs, and we can't.
So, basically, I have no idea what we're looking at as far as childcare and after care, and language classes, etc. So I am trying to put in resumes and applications for different jobs now; however, nobody wants to go near me due to the fact that I don't even arrive in D.C. until end of August. Good grief.
But, the bright side is that I priced plane tickets from Albania to Paris, and they run around $250 USD each. That alone is worth this B.S. Seriously. Maybe we'll get that honeymoon after all!
Right now, we're planning two moves actually: one back to Washington, D.C. and one to Albania a year or so after that. I've got to plan both moves in advance, and it's truly a logistical nightmare. I have to plan for what we will need immediately (during home leave), what we'll HAVE to have while we're in an itty bitty apartment in D.C. (pretty much clothes and toys, because we can't have much), what we're going to need in Albania (we'll have a furnished house with no option to politely decline things that might not go with our decor), things that we want to keep forever but have to put into storage, and plan what things we want to get rid of (such as the two tons of toys my kids will never miss but won't let our of their sight).
So there's that planning, for which I've created an epic spreadsheet to keep it all straight. Then there's the home leave planning: making sure we get to see everyone we love and that we get an ample amount of time with each of them, while praying we can get some down time to enjoy our Congress-ordered "vacation."
Then there's the logistical nightmare of actually getting out of Canada with both boys, both cats, etc. Imagine everything you'd have to take care of in order to move from one country to another. The thing is that because we live in a place as "America-like" like Canada, much of the work that was taken care of for us in Ecuador (due to language barriers, etc.) just isn't done here. Yeah, I know how that sounds; but it's true. The lists of things that we have to do between home/jobs/kids/car/pet export and import/etc. are just inches thick of paperwork. I know, I know: Poor pitiful us! It's not hard, per se; it's just time-consuming and and really detailed. It's overwhelming; that's the word I was looking for. It's honestly easier to move from a "foreign" country to another "foreign" country than this.
Okay, enough of that. Another really difficult--okay, infuriating--thing that's really frustrating is that I can't register my oldest for school until we're actually in D.C. and have our address and all that. Well, we're not going to be able to swing getting there any earlier than a week before school starts. Big deal, right? Well, not so much. Because we can't register him, we can't get on the after school care list either. So he may not get a spot; and so then what? Guess I'll see in August/September. And my youngest...that's another obstacle. There's actually a free preschool program at the school, but you have to put your name in a lottery to get a chance at grabbing a spot. Well, you can't put your name in....unless you are in residence there already!!! So no free preschool for us. Okay. What about daycare? Well, the United States is amazing and has so many great programs. The only problem is that you have to qualify for them. Stay with me, here. There's a childcare subsidy that we could get for Emerson, which would help us pay around 20% of that $1000/mo bill. Only we don't qualify for it because we "make too much money." Hey, I understand that completely. That money should go to people who REALLY need it. The problem is that whether or not you qualify for next year depends on THIS year's tax returns. Well, I won't be working NEXT year because I'll be learning Albanian and other courses (if I get a spot), which is why I will need that subsidy so bad. We're going to be taking a 40% hit on our income when I quit working! It just sucks. It's just that this once we really need to be able to use those great programs, and we can't.
So, basically, I have no idea what we're looking at as far as childcare and after care, and language classes, etc. So I am trying to put in resumes and applications for different jobs now; however, nobody wants to go near me due to the fact that I don't even arrive in D.C. until end of August. Good grief.
But, the bright side is that I priced plane tickets from Albania to Paris, and they run around $250 USD each. That alone is worth this B.S. Seriously. Maybe we'll get that honeymoon after all!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Ottawa Winters
Winters in Ottawa are bleak, dark, lonely, and barren. It's a bit quirky how people walk as fast as they possibly can when going from cars to buildings to different buildings, yet it's a slower walk than one would normally have due to the extra pounds and layers of down coats, snow boots, gloves, scarves, and "tucs" (beanies).
Growing up in the South, I've always been mindful of greeting people and holding the door open for them when possible. But when the wind cuts through you at negative 5+ degrees, you couldn't care less about being polite; you just want to shut out that razor sharp cold as quickly as possible. Now, I'm not saying that there aren't parts of the winter here that are beautiful.
Last night, after my boys had gone to sleep, I went outside and watched these beautiful snowflakes fall that were just little mists of shaved ice swirling around. Snow falling: now, that is beautiful. I find myself absolutely hypnotized by it without meaning to be. On the other hand, the three inches of solid cracking ice that I have in my driveway right now are pretty much the antichrist when it comes to winter.
I know at what temperature the moisture in one's nose freezes, and I can tell more or less how cold it is by how much it hurts to breathe in deeply right when you walk outside. If you cough instantly, it's time to turn around and pick up the hat. One thing that is completely counter-intuitive during a "hard" winter is that it's the sunny days that are the coldest! We find ourselves wishing for snow because snow means warmer temperatures. Apparently, the clouds provide a layer of warmth/insulation from the cold atmosphere; so it's no wonder that you can find vitamin D drops at gas stations.
Another hard part about the winter is the lack of sunlight. I mean, the sun comes up around 8:00 AM and goes down around 4:30 PM every day. But during the summer, the sun rises at 4:00 AM and sets around 10:00 PM. The two seasons are literally polar opposites.
The ugly side of winter comes down to slush and salt. Everything from your boots to your coat to your car are constantly covered in a thick, dusty layer of rock salt. It gets all over the house and on the floorboards of your car. There's still salt on my coat from last winter; the stuff just simply won't come off!
One very romantic thing about an Ottawa winter is when the Rideau Canal freezes. It becomes the longest ice skating rink in the world, and it's not a rare occurrence to see men dressed in suits and carrying attache cases just gliding down the canal on their way to work. It actually becomes a mode of transportation for some hardcore winter lovers. I wish I could get into that type of thing; however, this Southern girl just wants to feel the hot sun on her skin.
Growing up in the South, I've always been mindful of greeting people and holding the door open for them when possible. But when the wind cuts through you at negative 5+ degrees, you couldn't care less about being polite; you just want to shut out that razor sharp cold as quickly as possible. Now, I'm not saying that there aren't parts of the winter here that are beautiful.
Last night, after my boys had gone to sleep, I went outside and watched these beautiful snowflakes fall that were just little mists of shaved ice swirling around. Snow falling: now, that is beautiful. I find myself absolutely hypnotized by it without meaning to be. On the other hand, the three inches of solid cracking ice that I have in my driveway right now are pretty much the antichrist when it comes to winter.
I know at what temperature the moisture in one's nose freezes, and I can tell more or less how cold it is by how much it hurts to breathe in deeply right when you walk outside. If you cough instantly, it's time to turn around and pick up the hat. One thing that is completely counter-intuitive during a "hard" winter is that it's the sunny days that are the coldest! We find ourselves wishing for snow because snow means warmer temperatures. Apparently, the clouds provide a layer of warmth/insulation from the cold atmosphere; so it's no wonder that you can find vitamin D drops at gas stations.
Another hard part about the winter is the lack of sunlight. I mean, the sun comes up around 8:00 AM and goes down around 4:30 PM every day. But during the summer, the sun rises at 4:00 AM and sets around 10:00 PM. The two seasons are literally polar opposites.
The ugly side of winter comes down to slush and salt. Everything from your boots to your coat to your car are constantly covered in a thick, dusty layer of rock salt. It gets all over the house and on the floorboards of your car. There's still salt on my coat from last winter; the stuff just simply won't come off!
One very romantic thing about an Ottawa winter is when the Rideau Canal freezes. It becomes the longest ice skating rink in the world, and it's not a rare occurrence to see men dressed in suits and carrying attache cases just gliding down the canal on their way to work. It actually becomes a mode of transportation for some hardcore winter lovers. I wish I could get into that type of thing; however, this Southern girl just wants to feel the hot sun on her skin.
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