How much is too much?

I am a believer that life at post is what you make of it.  I truly believe I could be happy in any post.  Maybe not as happy as I could be in say London or Madrid; but nonetheless there is good and bad about each post. 

So I wanted to start this by telling you how much I love Paraguay.  Sure there are things that drive me crazy, the coke store closes in the middle of the day everyday (yes, I know it is sad that the coke store is on the top of my list, but if you know me you know I love Coke), drivers think they are the MOST important person on the road, buses stop every 30 feet to let people on or off, everything is closed on Saturday after noon (so get your errands done early)!  But Paraguay has so much to offer.  All in all the people are so nice and want to help, in general they love Americans, I can walk pretty much anywhere (in my neighborhood) during the day without a second thought, we have hot (yes blazing hot) and cold (actually really chilly) seasons, we have a pool in our yard, and there are even some extra benefits we have a maid, and a cook, gardener, and massage therapist that come to the house once a week.  It would not seem that I have much to complain about.  In fact I dare say (being so far away from family aside) the pros out weigh the cons. 

However, our housing here has been one big headache.  We were put in a house that although lovely was unable to be repaired when it rained.  It rained inside every time it rained outside.  So after some pleading from those in housing we decided to move.  We put the request in with the embassy and were given a house with a whole different set of problems.  From day one my 4 year old has been sick.  I reported the smell of mold to maintenance and the health unit.  We spent months fighting to get someone to fix the issue.  I even switched his bedroom with my older son because I thought that might help. People came over to the house with moisture readers and told me that the house was in fact very moist, "but there is nothing we can do about it.  We live in Paraguay, it is humid."  I finally gave up the fight knowing we only had 6 months left. 

In April we returned from a trip and our floor had a bubble in it.  Not just a little bubble a bubble that was about 5 feet long and 4 feet wide.  So in early May the work finally began.  When they pulled up the floor there was so much mold they could not relay the floor.  They cleaned it and let it dry (only the 5x4 section of it because there must not be mold anywhere else).  It dried for nearly 2 weeks before they finally relayed the floor.  Once it was relayed the repair guy told me that when they finished the floor we would need to be out of the house for 12 hours.  They would start about 8 am and could probably return to the house around 10 or 11 at night.  Really??? What am I supposed to do with my kids for all that time?  So I told them to wait to refinish the floor until we moved. 

Now we have the exact same issue in another part of our house.  The direct exposure to the mold has caused breathing problems and headaches for everyone.  Even keeping my kids away from the area it is still in the air making everyone feel under the weather.


Although housing issues do arise when living stateside (I have had my fair share) dealing with them while living overseas adds a different kind of stress.  It is not in my power to fix it.  We can't just move.  And we run the risk of pissing off the people we work with/for.  And this one has been especially hard because my husband (the state employee) has not been here to advocate for our family, so we have in a way been swept under the rug, so to speak. 

So although one would think the pro's out weigh the con's of living here, once you factor in our housing experience, for me, it quickly leans in the other direction.

7 Months and Not a Peep!

So I really thought I would be a great blogger while my hubby was in Afghanistan.  I was going to let the world know just what our Unaccompanied Tour was like and how like so many others have claimed, it was "so much easier than expected." 

Well, after September 13 I realized this year was going to be hard.  It was going to be filled with fear and worry, sleepless nights and tears.  Lots and lots of tears. 

I had decided to stay at post.  I did this for a million reasons but mostly because we didn't know where we would be headed next so I didn't want my kids to be in 4 schools over the course of 2.5 years.  Sounds reasonable right?  I did not take into account that our embassy would have a HUGE turn over the summer my hubby left and thus no one would know me.  I would be left out of the embassy community and at home counting the days until our next R&R. 

I was unofficially asked to move houses right before my hubby left because of an uncompliant landlord, and the process to move after he left was a NIGHTMARE.  Not just moving but navigating the embassy politics when I didn't have anyone at post to call BS on my behalf.  The house we were moved to all though not perfect is better than the one we left in so many aspects, but I'm not sure it was worth the fight to make it all happen. 

We have had some exciting adventures this year because the UT provided some extra money to splurge on a couple of great vacations. 

In December the kids and I visited Panama.  We spent a few days just hanging out on the beach, swimming and playing.  Then we took a tour and saw the Panama canal and visited the Natives.  It was truly amazing.  A few days later we met up with the hubby for Christmas and enjoyed 2.5 weeks together.

In April we flew to Germany and stayed in Garmisch for 2 weeks.  It was amazing.  Other than 2 days in the hospital because Eli took a fall we saw it all and still had time to relax and EAT!

May also brought an R&R.  The hubby came "home" and we tried to have life as normal.  The kids going to school and we spent the days planning our pack out and watching movies.  Oh yeah, and we took 3 days and went to Rio ALONE! 

We are about to say our final good-bye of this UT and begin the craziness of end of the school year and sorting through the house to lessen our load.  Good-bye's SUCK!  And even with the mantra of only 45 days to go, I wonder how we are going to do it. 

We are looking forward to being a family again, we are excited to move to Manila, and we already have a summer packed full of activities. 

I hope to be a better blogger in Manila.....but honestly, probably not.

The Pants

     One of the things I love about living in Paraguay is having household help.  Please understand sometimes it is actually more work to have her around than it is to not have her here.  There have actually been days when she has not come to work for one reason or another and I do a little happy dance.  It is a day I can lay around the house watch anything I like on TV and eat junk food.  But all of that is for another blog.
     Most of the time it is very nice to know that first thing in the morning dishes will be done, beds will be made and floors will be mopped.  One thing however that I will not let her do (which drives her crazy might I add) is wash the clothes.  There are a plethora of reasons I do not let her wash clothing, when she washes I have to replace clothing more often, the uses laundry soap by the cup, she often washes dry clean only stuff with Levi's, she washes every single day so often it is only 3 things in the washing machine, etc.  But one of the biggest reasons is I do it is because, I don't mind doing it and it feels like it is something I still "do" for my family. 
     Since my husband left for Afghanistan we have moved houses.  So the house has a weird feeling in it, it is a place he has never lived, or even step foot in.  When I moved in, all of his cloths went into the corner of one of the closets and that door is never opened.  I sleep on the other side of the bed because it is closer to the kids.  I use up most of the space in the house.  But there is this one pair of pants.
     Every time I wash the laundry there is one pair of my husbands pants that are at the bottom of the pile.  At first I didn't wash them because they have to be washed separately and I just had too much laundry to do to wash a single item.  But now I do not wash them because it means he must be coming home.  My goodness he still has laundry undone here, of course he will be home.   
     I know that this line of thinking is silly and clearly his dirty pants have no actual bearing on him coming home, but it is still my thing I need to do for him.  It is my unfinished business and I need that.  So call me crazy, or call me lazy, but Honey, I still have your laundry in the hamper and I can't wait until I have another pair of pants in the hamper so I don't have to wash them separately.

Three and a half months down..... eight and a half to go. 

315 Easy Steps to Obtaining a Paraguyan Drivers License

So when we arrived two and a half years ago we were taken to get our drivers license.  My license expired in April so I decided it was about time to go get another.  At this point I would like to thank the AMAZING guy from the embassy that helps with this process, without him we would be lost.

So if you follow these directions and get the nice guy from the Embassy to walk you through it you should have your license in under 2 hours.  --- Sorry the photos are so bad.  The camera on my phone sucks!!!

Desk 1

Step 1:  Collect all documents (including a certified letter stating your blood type)
Step 2:  Start at desk to fill out paper work.
Step 3:  Go to another desk to get copies of passport, government ID etc.
Step 4:  Pay for copies
Step 5:  Go back to first desk with copies and get paperwork and copies approved.
Step 6:  Go to cashier to pay for "stamps."  The purpose of these stamps are unknown.
Step 7:  Go to the Documentacion y foto desk and give them new papers with stamps on it.
Step 8:  Answer questions about purpose of needing a drivers license.
Step 9:  Wait
Step 10: Be called into a small room with two men to give you a "driving test."
Step 11: Take test 1 vision test.  Name letters and colors.
Step 12:  Take "reaction" test.  This is a test to see how fast you can slam on the break should something (probably a small child) run in front of your car.
Step 13:  Take hearing test.  This one is awesome because you can see which side the sound is going to be on and they only test each ear once.
Step 14:  Receive the "you passed" smile and leave room.
Step 15:  Wait

Waiting, waiting and more waiting

Step 16:  Be called into another room for your picture.

Step 17:  Wonder if you should smile because no one else does but they all look so unhappy in their pictures.
Step 18:  Smile and graciously thank the guy that is hitting on you for taking your picture.

1984 computers

Step 19:  Wait
Step 20:  Wonder why they are still using computers from 1984.
Step 21:   Get more paper work from the counter.
Step 22:  Go back to cashier and pay even more money.
Step 23:  Return to the counter with the receipt.
Step 24:  Wait
Step 25:  Get Drivers License that can not be used as ID in Paraguay and thank the guy.

Eli's Debut

        On Wednesday we attended a performance of Pinocchio put on by Eli's Preschool, Minigente.  I could not believe how much work the wonderful teachers had put in to put it together.  The story was so cute and each kid was included, but best of all, have you ever seen a 4 year old play Geppetto?  It was stinking funny.  And the more the audience laughed the more he laughed. 
        The show was put on at the Embassy of Argentina.  They have the most beautiful theater that was a perfect set-up for the performance.  The turn out was amazing, it was standing room only (so glad we got there early), but of course it would be in a culture like Paraguay's, where families are so close and so supportive.
       I showed up in levis and quickly realized that I was WAY underdressed.  Many people were dressed in sequins and heals.  But others (the late ones) showed up dressed down so when I was leaving I didn't feel quite so out of place. 



Very Underdressed Eli Supporters

      As for Eli....well he was a riot.  He is very stubborn and because he is speech delayed it often times makes it hard to have a conversation with him.  So when it was almost his turn to go out on the stage he ran out about a third of the way and stopped just looking at the audience.  He smiled while his teachers were whispering, "Eli vení, nesicitamos esperar."  (Eli, come here, we need to wait.)
       He just looked at them and said, "No."  Then continued smiling at the audience.  He was the only one doing anything so all eyes were on him.  He loved it.  I think because he is fair skinned and blond people tend to think he is adorable.  So the audience laughed; and he soaked it up and smiled.  We all knew that if they tried to drag him backstage it would be all down hill from there with kicking and screaming, so they just let him stand there until the music started. 
       Once the music started and his classmates joined him on stage he realized that the music was very loud.  He covered his ears and soon began to cry.  So that was it for Eli.  He spent the rest of the show down in the dressing rooms playing and watching TV (probably where he wanted to be anyway.)  --  The video above shows his cute classmates, but we missed his "performance" in the beginning.
       We got to sit next to our good friends, who I will miss dearly when they leave next month.  Their daughters were wonderful on stage, and did exactly what they were supposed to.



Proud parents and sisters

     


Sounds of the Herat Attack from Paraguay

It is a little after midnight and my phone rings waking me up and I think, "He does know it is midnight, right?"
I pick up the phone and I can hear a lot of noise and my husband say to me, "I'm alright.  I need you to say it back to me, I'm all right."
"You are alright."
Then it hits me...something is not right.  Suddenly the noise in the background becomes all that I can hear.  I hear people yelling, I hear panic. Then I hear my husband again... "We have been attacked, but I'm alright."
I immediately pick up my cell phone and start looking for news.  I hear him say words like, "air support," "bomb," "communications down," and "troops," but all I can see are images of Bengazi in my head.  And then like a bolt of lightening the fear of losing the most amazing man I have ever known, my life, shoots through my body.  Tears begin to flow, and my own panic sets in, because I know that he is not the guy hunkered down in the safe room, behind the blast proof walls.  He is the guy making sure everyone gets to those rooms, he is the guy helping with the guard force to make sure the embassy is not over run, he is the guy with the gun.
Our conversation lasted less than 4 minutes, just long enough for me to know that the shooting had stopped, the marines had arrived and he was alive.

After the attack on September 13th

Before

The next three hours I sat in front of my computer waiting for news sites to catch up on the news.  I talked to my loving Mother who wished more than anything that she could be here to hold my hand (and I wished for the very same thing.) I read anything and everything I could about the bombing.  Around 4 I finally went back to bed, but not before sending an email just to make sure that he was... still here.


The last 40 hours have been some of the hardest of my life.  I have cried more than not; not only because I'm so worried about my husband, but because the reality of how dangerous his job is over there sunk in.

Telling my children  and watching them go though the emotional roller coaster that I had been going through was heart breaking.  I simply cannot imagine being 9 years old and trying to process that information.  I remembered watching as my amazing brother-in-law who at 9 years old learned that his father was going to die, and I feel so much gratitude in my heart that I did not have to have that conversation with my son.

We are still continually praying for his safety and the safety for all of those in that part of the world.  I am especially grateful for the military who were sent to guard the consulate while my husband works, who risk their lives to protect the lives of others.  And I am grateful to the spouses and children of those military members for their sacrifice.  I know that sacrifice; and I know it is often overlooked.

I ask that you please pray for the families of those who lost someone that day.  I know they were not American but none-the-less they died in the service of our country.  I will be forever grateful to those men who did their job with such honor and integrity.

And we continue to pray for the safe return of all of those serving to protect our great nation, no matter which corner of the earth they are doing it in.

How a Small Embassy is Like High School

So my last few weeks at post have been very trying.  We were forced to move the same day we returned from R&R.  I guess forced might be a bit of an exaggeration.  They emailed me while I was on R&R and suggested that they move all of my stuff into the new house while I was gone.  I said that was NOT a good idea mostly because of my cat (who I put on valium when we fly for fear she will have a heart attack and die), but also because if something got lost or broken I would be totally unable to prove that the movers broke or took it because my maid has had access to my house the whole time I was gone; and really lets be honest who wants other people going through their personal stuff?  Would anyone else be alright with this?  Coming back from a 5 week R&R to a house full of boxes not knowing where anything was.  Hoping someone could put together the complicated computer system your husband had designed?  Not to mention, I have no hubby to help me through it all, we were starting the FIRST day of school the day we got back.  I just felt it was a bad idea. 

So I agreed to move THE VERY DAY I arrived back in country so that the government could have me out of my house by the end of the month.  I felt this was really nice of me because I am a planner.  I generally "pre-pack" before the movers arrive so that all of the contents of my drawers are not just thrown in boxes but are nicely bagged and easy to find.  I unhook all electronics and secure them to the electronic which they belong, and I move things around so that when we arrive to the new place vital things are found easily and knick-knacks will have a home when the last boxes are unpacked. 
Of course there was not time for any of that, so drawers were emptied into boxes, I still (3 weeks later) cannot find the cord to the Wii or movie player for the kids, and my computers are ... well functioning ... although not networked.

And through all of this it was the last 3 weeks of summer semester for me.  So I have completed 3 papers, and two finals in this week.  Completed paperwork for my kids, set up tutors, working on a preschool (required) project for children's day, arranged to have internet in my new house, and a mess of other things in the last few weeks. 

One thing I have realized in this horrible mess (other than I made a mistake moving and should have just stayed in a house with a leaky roof) is that some embassies feel like a high school, or at least this one does at times.  I'm sure this is true with any small community.  I have experienced similar experiences at church and in small towns, at work and even within a large family, but none-the-less it is true. 

First, you have the popular kids, of which I am not one, for many reasons, but mostly because I'm not as involved as I should be, and many of those people are just fake anyway.   There is the back stabbing witch that if you make her mad she will make you pay, even if that means making your kids pay.  There is the gossipy girl and/or the girl that will listen to all of your problems, that you get to comfortable with and it ends up biting you in the butt.  There is the jock, that smiles at everyone, is constantly making jokes and seems like he really wants to be your friend; but when push comes to shove, he won't lift one finger for you unless it is in his job description. Of course there is the jocks wife girlfriend, the cheerleader, that is really just too good for you.  Then there is the geeky debate boy.  This is the kid that did cross-x or Lincoln Douglas at debate tournaments (yes, I realize this makes you think that I was probably one of those kids too, but you would be wrong, I didn't Cross-x or LD in high school---but I was on the debate team.  But if you know me you know I will go toe to toe with almost anyone.)  He doesn't really think for himself, his sole purpose is to be "right according to the evidence" and be a complete asshole while doing it. Then there are the worker bees.  The people that keep their head down, don't get involved in the politics unless they have to and just do their job, and sometimes the job of others to help keep the embassy  high school functioning.  There are those people that will go out of their way to make sure everyone is taken care of even at their own expense.  And their are those people who are users; they are your "best friend" when they need your homework answers or a ride.

I guess I knew the whole high school dilemma before moving here.  In fact being a part of a small community was one thing I really wanted.  I still choose it.  I could have gone home and found a different "high school group" to be a part of, but I decided to stay and enjoy the family I have here.  I know it is not perfect and I will steer clear of some of these people, but I hope to also learn from my mistakes, sidestep the landmines, embrace the good, be a little more outgoing and keep moving on... once my house is unpacked. 

Did I mention my next semester starts on Thursday?