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Of Two Minds

It is really nice being in the United States. I cannot say I love studying Chinese (there are good days and not so good days), but I do enjoy being in Northern Virginia. Autumn is such a lovely time here. I missed autumn in Mexico. Contrary to what many people thought, it did get cold in Juarez, but there is no changing of the leaves, then crispness in the air and cool, drizzly days. It was really, really hot and then it was not quite so hot. It rained maybe five times a year and I did not even carry an umbrella.

So although recently it has been rainy and cool, even this self-confessed tropical weather chaser has liked it. I have even bought C her first rain coat and it made me ridiculously happy to do so.

I really like living in Herndon. We are very close to where I grew up. I regularly drive past the Pizza Hut I worked at the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Across the street is the shopping center where the parents of one of my best friends in high school had their Chinese restaurant. C’s swim school is located in the same store space as the Hallmark my mom used to take my sisters and I to spend our allowance. In the same shopping center is the McDonald’s where they gave me a free small fries when I showed up in my Halloween costume (I dressed up as a bag of McDonald’s small fries!) There is also the Giant Food Store my best high school friend worked at for years. The shoe store where I had my first job is now a dry cleaner; the first pizza place I worked is now a Pollo Peru, but the reminders are still there.

I lived my whole childhood in the same place, in this area. Even Falls Church, which I drive through each day to and from the Foreign Service Institute, is not only where I lived when I last did my Foreign Service training, but where I lived with my aunt and uncle one summer in college. I love the Lost Dog and Stray Cat cafes. There is a wonderful park in Falls Church across from the library. I used to walk down there when I lived with my aunt and uncle. I feel my cheeks burn when I think about the time I made out with a boyfriend there. (And they are burning now) When living there 2011-2012 I picked up pregnancy books at the library and just a little way up the street a policeman at the town hall helped me install C’s first car seat.

Washington, DC too is close. As a child, I spent many a day at museums on the National Mall. I still remember the summer my dad worked at the Air and Space Museum and he took me to work one day. We visited the Smithsonian castle and the National Museum of American History many times. Yet the National Museum of Natural History was the runaway favorite, most especially the Egyptian mummies, the dinosaurs, and the live insect section. Later, as an adult, I lived in DC for four years and the Spy Museum, Newseum, and National Portrait Gallery became new favorites.

There are memories really on just about every corner; I have a history here.

I have found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to really live here again, not just to be here on a temporary basis while training at FSI. I try to puzzle out where I would like to live. In the heart of DC in a chic neighborhood like Eastern Market or Georgetown? Falls Church with its small town feel right outside of DC? Reston, in the area right around the pedestrian-friendly shopping center? Or right here in compact, convenient, and historical Herndon?

What really hits me is that C will not grow up in just one place. She will not really have a home town. She may or may not ride her bike around the neighborhood. It will depend on where we are living at the time – if it is the kind of place kids ride bicycles or not. It is highly unlikely her elementary school classmates will also be in her middle and high schools. She may attend as many as three or four elementary schools.

It is not a bad thing. It is only a different thing.

Yet, I find myself feeling wistful.

Then I think ahead to Shanghai. I have heard such good things about living there. I have already compiled a lengthy list of things for C and I to see and do, one for almost one-third of our 104 weekends. I can hardly wait for us to take a stroll along the famous Bund, possibly wearing matching pajamas. I look forward to taking C to the Wild Animal Park and the fantastic Ocean Aquarium. I see us taking in a show of the famous Shanghai Acrobatic Troupe. And finally the cherry on the top of my I-am-taking-my-Disney-loving-toddler-to-Shanghai sundae: Shanghai Disneyland is slated to open in late 2015.

I think of all the opportunities that C will have. She has already been to more countries by the age of two than many Americans will visit in their lifetimes. She will visit many of the finest places in the world, be they amazing cultural or natural sites, famous or not. She will meet and make friends with people from all over the world. Heck, by this time next year she will probably be speaking Chinese!

Although a single town or area will not have landmarks of her childhood, she will have such landmarks all over the world. That is amazing to think about.

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10K is the New Half

Today I ran the Freedom’s Run 10K in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. Originally though, I had signed up for the half marathon. It was to be my West Virginia half and one I was pretty excited about. (I even checked with the 50 States Half Marathon people to make sure it qualified for West Virginia since the majority of the run is actually in Maryland.) Runner’s World magazine ranked it among their Top 25 Half Marathons as well and named it a Bucket List race. Who would not be tempted by that? Certainly half marathon enthusiasts would find it hard to turn down. I absolutely did.

However as race day came ever closer I realized I just would not be ready. This felt different than my concerns before the South Dakota half. This was not just nerves; this was hard reality.

Who would have thought it would be easier to train in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, former murder capital of the world and an always dusty, sandy high desert locale, and while traveling around on my crazy Home Leave? I did not. I envisioned fabulous long runs along tree-lined, beautifully maintained Northern Virginia running trails. I did not factor in juggling my Chinese training and study schedule and being a single mom of an active toddler.

I tried to train C to sit quietly in the gym with her iPad and Stuffie the Black Kitty but that turned out to be a laughable proposition. I sometimes managed two miles with several pauses in-between to tell C to sit down, put down the weights, not to touch something, get off the other treadmill, and so on… <sigh> THAT was not going to be a reliable way to get my run in.

Again I went to the Freedom’s Run website.

“The Half Marathon is very challenging”

“The first 3 miles are flat on the C & O then the difficult Antietam Battlefield section begins as you join the marathoners.”

“Once leaving the Canal the course is very hilly and rolling through Antietam Battlefield.”

“As one 2009 participant stated aptly ‘Freedom isn’t easy.’ These words will be your mantra through the scenic Battlefield.”

Um, yeah. Not only was my training crazily random and many would have a hard time calling it training at all…but the course would kick my a** even if I were training. It was time to email the organizers and drop down to the 10K. The elevation of the 10K chart indicated it would be plenty enough of a challenge.

And it sure was! Temperatures were perfect and the course lovely. At least half the course followed alongside the Potomac River on a tree-shaded road; the leaves in red and golden mid-Autumn splendor. The course though was HILLY, the organizers were NOT kidding. One particular hill, on the way back into town, seemed to go on and on and on…

As I had looked ahead to this half I had also made a decision to not participate in any more organized runs. I simply do not have the time to train. But…after three 10Ks in five weeks I must admit the distance has begun to grow on me. It is still a challenging distance, particularly with my current situation, but it is a distance I can train for and run without taking up quite as much time as a half marathon.

So, yes I have signed up for yet another 10K in four weeks. They had a long sleeve pullover and a distance I could not resist. I am on the lookout for more.

I will miss the half marathons. I may not run another until next summer, after my Chinese training, after my Chinese test, after we have moved to Shanghai, after I have had a chance to settle in and find out if and how I might train for one. I certainly would like to give the Freedom’s Run half another go. Until then, the 10Ks will have to tide me over.

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Learning Chinese and a Poopie Diaper

I have been struggling with how to portray how I feel about my return to the Foreign Language Institute for training to top up my very stale Mandarin Chinese. Perhaps my most difficult issue was how to explain how hard this has been for me without sounding like a majorly sad grump. Because I will tell you, I have had some majorly sad and grumpy days.

For example, I had my first tear-stained breakdown. Yep, it happened. Thankfully it did not occur in front of any of my colleagues but rather in front of a member of the Chinese Department staff as I tried to explain my very real fears that I will not pass the Chinese test in January. She was very kind and told me not to worry, which only made me suspect she has no idea how badly I speak Chinese.

I also threw a pen in class. I am not proud of it. I could not help but think later that it while it was probably too mild a throw to make it in to some kind of “Diplomats Behaving Badly” montage, it most certainly was not one of my finer moments. I certainly did not make a conscious decision to throw the pen but after feeling browbeaten to create one too many a Chinese sentence in a grammatical structure I simply did not understand with a limited vocabulary of half-remembered words and phrases learned as recently as 2002…and then having the teacher cut me off two words into my response, I had had it. And the pen launch sequence commenced.

One of my biggest struggles has been finding a time to study. I tried studying in the evenings as C watched a DVD and then after she went to bed. Firstly, you parents out there must be laughing your socks off imagining me trying to study with a toddler in the room. Yeah, it went about as well as you imagine. “Mommy, change DVD, change DVD, change DVD.” “Mommy, snack, snack, snack!” “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy…” Secondly, my attempts at raising a jet setting night owl toddler have been too successful and I was too tired to do anything after she went to bed because it was also my bedtime.

Then I decided to wake up early in the morning, around 5 am, study until C woke up around 7:30, take her to child care and then drive on to the training institute for a little more study until class began at 10:40. Except on day one of this brilliant plan I woke up at 5:30 and I heard the sweet little call of “mommy?” at six.

@$&#

Plan #3 has been to wake up at 5:30, get C to daycare by 6:45, drive to the training institute, arriving around 7:35, then studying in the cafeteria until class at 10:40. I study again for at least an hour in between my morning class and afternoon class. I also listen to Chinese in the car either to or from the training institute. I downloaded some popular Chinese songs and language learning podcasts, burned the textbook and other dialogues to disc, and purchased the soundtrack to Frozen in Mandarin. We are expected at the very least to study for 8 hours a day including our 5 hours of classroom time. This schedule means I can generally manage to get those three extra hours in. This has been mildly successful, at least in relative terms.

Yet every single day I eat a huge helping of humble pie in class and continue to harbor serious doubts about my readiness to test in January.

This morning I set about to take C to swimming class (I have at least followed through with this ONE thing from my “back in the U.S. to-do list”). I got myself dressed and her dressed. I took us out to the car and buckled C into the car seat.

Then I realized I had forgotten my towel.

[Note: I did not bring towels the first day of swim class because I expected, for some reason, they would be provided, and had to run into the nearby supermarket to buy a set of hand towels. I felt like schmuck.]

So I unbuckled C from the car seat and walked back to the apartment to get the towel and then returned to the car and buckled her back in. Only to realize I had forgotten a spare diaper.

So I unbuckled C from the car seat and walked back to the apartment to get the extra diaper and then returned to the car and began to buckle her back in. Then I smelled something unfortunate. C needed a diaper change.

<sigh> I wanted to just pack it in. I wanted to just get C out of the car and give up on the swim class at least for today and maybe forever. There was even a millisecond there I considered I might never leave the apartment again. I took a deep breath and convinced myself to keep going.

So I unbuckled C from the car seat and returned to the apartment, changed her diaper, and then returned to the car and buckled her back in.

We were late for swim class.
But we still got there and were able to participate.

This week my Chinese study has been derailed several times.

Last weekend C had a fever of 102 all day Saturday and 103 most of Sunday. Instead of being a docile and very sleepy sick person she became an extremely demanding one. Not one minute of studying that weekend. <sigh>

I arranged for my parents to watch her on Monday instead of taking her to daycare, so I actually departed home at 9:20 that day, after some haphazard studying in the apartment that morning. <sigh>

Early Wednesday morning, C woke up and demanded food. I mean she literally sat bolt upright in bed at the witching hour of 3:40 am and said “FOOD!” and would not go back to sleep until she had had some “Dora snacks” and a juice. So I let her sleep in a little and departed for daycare at 8 am. Then on the way to the daycare center that morning the low air light came on for my tires. I stopped to have them checked and every single one of them was low. <sigh>

On Thursday C woke up in the middle of the night upset, the fever was back. I gave her medicine but could not get back to sleep as I had developed a terrible stomach ache. So I called in sick and took C to the doctor. I imagined I might get a little studying done but again C would not nap, was extremely demanding, and, as an extra fun bonus, shoved an edamame bean up her nose in the afternoon. <sigh>

Right now I am feeling the best I have about Chinese in the four weeks I have been studying. I have no idea why.

On the drive back from swimming class today I thought the whole episode summed up how I feel I prepare for Chinese every day – shit happens but I AM trying.

That’s all I can do. 

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Travel Mom vs. the Toddler

I love traveling, particularly international travel. In my early 20s the travel bug bit me hard and I have been finding ways and means to get myself to locales around the world ever since. After living three years in Japan teaching English, I made the decision to take a year off before graduate school and backpack solo through central, Eastern, and Southern Europe, a little of north Africa, and then parts of Asia. I had the time of my life and easily reached fifty countries visited before the age of 30. At present I could qualify for membership in the Traveler’s Century Club.

When I became pregnant more than a few people implied I would need to cut back on the travel. One friend even said she guessed I would not be making any trips for the next five years. Why, I thought, would I want to stop traveling?

I will admit it; I was a little concerned about traveling with a baby. I thought perhaps those people who had said I could not travel with baby C may have been right. Yet, I did not want to just throw in the towel without giving it a try. So when C was five months old I booked a trip over the Memorial Day weekend from Washington, DC to New Orleans. It was a direct flight, there on a regional jet, back on a larger jet. I brought three bottles, plenty of formula, and all the diapers I we would need for the trip. I brought only the baby carrier – no stroller. I cannot tell you the sense of relief and accomplishment I felt when we returned – I had done it! There was no stopping me now!

Our second trip by plane came five months later after arriving in Ciudad Juarez. This time the trip was to Northern Ireland. This required three flights (El Paso to Houston; Houston to Newark; Newark to Belfast) there and back. This time I added the stroller. Not only did I survive the flights, but I even took C on an all day tour bus from Belfast along the coast to the Giant’s Causeway and another day we took a public bus to Derry. I was doing it, really doing it! Baby C and I were officially travel buddies!

My daughter C is now 2 years and 8 months old. She holds two passports, tourist and diplomatic, and has had them since she was four months old. She has visited six countries other than the United States (Mexico, Trinidad and Tobago, the United Arab Emirates, Panama, Ireland and the United Kingdom. In the UK she has been to Northern Ireland, Manchester, Liverpool, and the Isle of Man) and at least 19 U.S. states. For her second birthday I enrolled her in the United Airlines Mileage Plus program and within five months she had earned silver status. C has got travel creds.

I do not write this to show off. It is more for me. It is a reminder that I could once do all that.

Of course I was never quite sure how things were going to go. Every time I got on a plane for the next trip, it was like traveling with a different child and/or we needed different gear. She went from needing only formula to needing snacks. She went from being content with just a few books and a single stuffie to requiring more books and stuffies and toys. I bought an iPod Touch. I admit it. I bought a one year old an iPod Touch so I could fill it with baby apps to keep her busy and me sane on our long trip to Dubai. Let me tell you C was a champ on every. single. flight.

However, you know, all good things come to an end, right? I thought it might come when she turned 2 and she could no longer travel as a lap child. Suddenly C has own seat and her own luggage allowance, but for some reason she does not as suddenly start carrying her own suitcase and walking through the airport on her own. Yet, the first several trips went pretty well, even when I had to lug the child seat to check in so we could use it while renting a car in Ireland.

But my wake-up call was coming.

So in May of this year we flew from El Paso, Texas to Manchester, England. We then caught a train to Liverpool, spent a few days there, and then took a ferry over to the Isle of Man. Are you with me so far? It is okay to think I am crazy, but stay with me because it is soon afterwards that I too realize that perhaps I am a tad too travel bold for my current status. We stayed in Douglas, the port town and capital of the Isle of Man. I take C on a bus from Douglas to Peel, on the other side of the island. We walk up the isthmus at the end of the beach to tour the incredible Peel castle (I have the stroller) and then stop for a bite to eat at a small, family-run diner. C gobbles up her fried egg and a few veggies. Then she looks at me oddly and throws it up all over me, the chair, the floor. That was unfortunate. Luckily the woman who runs the place hardly blinks and eye and shows me the ladies room where I can clean C and myself up.

C falls asleep in the stroller as I head down to the House of Manannan, a museum focusing on the maritime history and culture of the Isle. I figure the time to visit is while C is fast asleep in the stroller. I have already put the lunch incident behind me. Kids get sick, no worries. The first 30 minutes are fine as C sleeps soundly. Then she wakes up and wants out of the stroller to walk. She promptly throws up again. And again. Luckily a helpful museum employee wanders by and helps find me some paper towels to clean things up. Good thing I have some extra towels for when C throws up yet again 10 minutes later. Time to make our exit.

On the way to the bus station we have another incident. Then at the bus station. Then on the bus. Then once off the bus in Douglas. I cannot fathom how my daughter has anything left in her little stomach. I am trying to stay off my own rising panic. I feel incredibly ill-equipped to handle this. I can navigate bus and train and boat schedules in foreign countries, but throw in my own sick child and I feel exposed as a fraud, and even worse, a terrible, no-good, very bad mother.

I get C back to the hotel so she can throw up a few more times in the comfort of our room (are you kidding me?!). I think of the following day when we will wake up early to take a taxi to the ferry terminal, a ferry to Liverpool, a bus to the train station, a train to Manchester, and then some form of transport to our hotel. I appreciate that I may not have thought this through all that well.

But the travel gods smile upon me and C recovers. I am given a reprieve. We take the taxi, ferry, bus, train, and taxi the next day, check into our hotel and then head to the National Football Museum. For the next, and last, two days of our trip though we stay at the hotel. It is cold and wet; I have come down with my own stomach bug. I feel an itty bitty bit glum that we will not be able to visit the Manchester United museum, but I also sense that this rest time is not only needed but has been imposed by the travel gods. It is my comeuppance.

These days I find it tiring just to go to the supermarket with my daughter. If we have to stop at more than one store then I probably need a nap afterwards. I look ahead to our flight to Shanghai, China in January and wonder how I will survive it. I shake my head. A rueful chuckle escapes my lips.

I have not yet conceded. I am calling this merely a travel hiatus. This is a slowdown, a drawback, but not an end. It helps that I am in language training now where taking leave is generally prohibited. I can circle my wagons, consider my options, and make some adjustments. It will be some time before I attempt another “Isle of Man” but we will travel again. I promise myself.

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Nation’s Tri: The Third Wheel

I belong to a global running group, a community of Foreign Service people who try to take their running on the road, wherever they happen to be. They may be trying to fit in runs in baking hot UAE summers (where you run after sunset when it’s a “cool” 105 degrees) or try to make friends with the treadmill when in places where running outside is verboten or make unexpected stops in locales where herds of animals may cross their path. We are a dedicated bunch of crazy runners. Not necessarily fast runners – though we do have a few who place in their respective races – but committed.

Waaaaaaay back in February or March of this year I responded to a post on our group page asking for a person to run the 10k portion in a triathlon team to take place September 7 in Washington, DC. Yeah THAT September 7, you know, the first Sunday back in the DC area after a whirlwind 60 days of home leave and my first week of Chinese training.

So it seemed like a GREAT idea! I could use it to jump start my running when back in Northern Virginia. This couple, whom I had never met, also would have just moved to DC for training the weekend before. It was PERFECT, right? I mean, that’s the word springing to your mind too, I’m sure! I replied immediately. Pick me! Pick me PLEASE! And they did.

Fast forward six months or so… I have run a half marathon in South Dakota a few weeks before, yet it already feels much longer. I am stressed and tired about the start of language training. I book a hotel in DC for the Saturday night – yes, a hotel away from my hotel, because the logistics of getting up at the butt crack of dawn to drive to DC and try to find parking seemed too daunting. My mom stays with myself and C because I have yet to spend a night away from her and I am determined not to have the first night be for this triathlon. My ulcerative colitis continues to plague me and this 10k runs through urban DC (as opposed to a heavily forested canyon in SD), i.e. few if any trees to hide behind should my UC make a pit stop necessary. I have not met this couple I’m running with. Hmmm…this seems a little less perfect than I originally thought.

Thankfully meeting up with my Tri mates proves easy. Though completely unplanned, we find each other the first day at the Foreign Service Institute. We run into each other unplanned each day after that. Even at the packet pick up we find each other at the hotel entrance without arranging a thing. It was rather uncanny.

It is a very good thing we had that going for us because the organization of the packet pick up and staging areas left much to be desired. Racers arriving to pick up packets with their bicycles are turned away as bicycles are not allowed in the hotel (at a triathlon?!). Volunteers at the event appear unable to answer questions. Our cyclist rides his bike down to the transition area to set up only to be stranded down there as the returning shuttles to the hotel stop at 6 pm, although the website and expo announcements say they will run until 7 pm. Then the skies open up and rain pours down. We decide to eat dinner at our respective hotels and meet up the following morning for the next to last shuttle for the start line, departing at 6 am.

That night my mother – a dear woman who agreed to watch Chloe while I run – snores with the force of a fog horn.  (I am sorry mom, you have been outed on Facebook and now in my blog) She tried not to, I’ll give her that. She brought a nose strip, yet it did nothing to stem the tide; I could not sleep. Around midnight, desperate to get some zzzzzs I had an epiphany. I then dragged a pillow and a comforter into the bathroom and set up bed in the bathtub. Yes, the bathtub. Surprisingly, I slept pretty well (I am 5’5” if you are wondering).

I awoke to the news that the swim portion of the race had been cancelled due to a sewage spill into the Potomac River resulting from the previous evening’s heavy rain. After wrenching myself from my bathtub cocoon I head over to the race hotel across the street at a quarter to six. Unfortunately, disorganization continued. Despite being on the next to last shuttle, departing the hotel at six am with the race not starting until 7:15, the bus could not drop participants at the actual start location, just nearby. At the event emcees announced that the “swimmers” would still run into the transition area barefoot. Unfortunately for many relay participants, this was not announced on the website along with the cancellation of the swim portion and some had simply not shown up. Our swimmer was in a dress – albeit a sporty one – and so lined up barefoot with the other “swimmers” to run 500 yards to pass off the timing piece to our cyclist.

Cyclist and I receive conflicting information as to how to reach the hand-off area. One volunteer told us to head in one direction where we met another volunteer who told us to go back where we had come from. We finally just went around both of them, the long way, to find the place, where we waited. And waited. And waited. Though the event started at 7:15, our “swimmer” did not begin her swim-run until 8:23! She was in wave 23, yet between each numbered wave there was also a “named” wave. The first cyclists had returned before 8:15.

At least the weather was perfect for cycling and running. It was cool and overcast – completely different from the near 90 degree and sunny weather of the day before. Still, I had been waiting around to run since 6:15 and with the breeze I felt a little chilled; it was a relief to finally start running around 9:45. Then suddenly, it was all alright. The course was well marked and the volunteers prepared. I ran slowly, without music, my mind occupied with many memories of my previous life in DC. I have run many times in West Potomac Park along Haines Point. I looked across the Potomac to Fort McNair, where I worked as a Research Fellow at the Institute for National Strategic Studies. Across the Potomac in another direction stands Bolling Air Force Base, where I also worked as a defense analyst. The course also covered streets where I trained for and ran the Marine Corps Marathon, my one full marathon to date. I had missed DC.

All in all, I am glad I participated, though I have decided I will not run more races in DC this brief time we are here, and possibly no other races at all after my half in early October. The time is just too short and the logistics for race participation a little too complicated. As a single parent studying Mandarin Chinese in preparation to work in Shanghai starting early next year, I only have so many hours in the day, only so much free time in a week. I need to recognize my limitations.

Hey, and I did it! Right? In the end I think the best part of it was meeting this other Foreign Service couple, also with a young daughter, serving their country, living abroad, and with a passion for running (and swimming and biking) wherever they happen to be.

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Back to School

I am too old for this.

We are told in our language school orientation at the Foreign Service Institute NOT to think this way. We should have an open mind. We should be accepting of everyone’s learning style and pace, including our own. We are reminded this is our job right now. Not only are we being paid to learn a language but the government is investing a lot of money in us to do so. The State Department is counting on us to learn our respective languages to help the United States achieve its diplomatic goals.

But geez, I feel too old for this.

I know I am intelligent and I can do this. I have learned languages before: Spanish, Chinese, Indonesian, Japanese, Korean, and Tagalog. The former three I learned over time and sporadically in long formal classes; the latter three with informal classes and living in country. And yes, you did read Chinese. So not only am I proven to learn a language but I am proven to learn THIS language.

On the first day the highlight of orientation for me was when a woman from the testing unit announced, in a hilarious and inspired presentation, that the test would henceforth be changed. No longer would we be required to speak at length on topics such as nuclear nonproliferation, Congressional term limits, or global warming and yet be unable to buy groceries or conduct visa interviews when we touchdown in our respective countries. In Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, I long waited for the when after approving or denying a visa the applicant would then turn to me and say, well, now that is done, could you tell me your thoughts on labor unions? Needless to say, that day never arrived. A collective sigh and inward cheer was palpably felt throughout the orientation room. The word is that we will actually be tested on conversations related to ourselves, life in our destination country, and our actual jobs. This is thrilling news.

The classes thus far have been great. The Chinese department has developed a class specifically geared toward those of us who have had Chinese in the past. Currently there are 14 of us in this program. I appreciate this immensely as I was in a similar situation when I studied Spanish and the department initially accommodated four of us with our own class. Then after four weeks we were scattered to the wind, placed in other classes, and any advantage we may have had was lost.

The class times fly by. When the teacher tells us to take a 10 minute break or he/she will see us next time, I am surprised. I have had just a few times in class where I felt too much on the spot, but my classmates and the teachers are supportive. Preparation is key though, and I am going to have to step things up.

I have run the gamut of language learning emotions this week. I have felt inspired and insecure. I have felt confident and uncertain. I have felt committed and flustered. I have been energized and exhausted. It has only been four days.

Lots of people would be thrilled to switch places with me; I am being paid to study a foreign language. I completely understand; it’s an incredible benefit and opportunity. I recognize that intrinsically. But studying a language is HARD y’all! I know at some point in the next 20 weeks I will cry as a result of trying to cram Mandarin into my brain, and remove the Spanish that now resides there. I may cry more than once. I am hoping to avoid doing this in front of others as it is not considered a great diplomatic skill to burst into tears.

I try to give myself a pep talk. “Look, last time you were here studying you were pregnant, had the baby, and then had a newborn. And you did it! You rock!”

“That’s all true. I do rock. Wait; now I have a toddler…I cannot see how that is going to make studying any easier.” As expected, C is already proving a formidable obstacle to my language learning.

It is very important I realize this process is not easy for anyone and that everyone has things going on in their lives while trying to study a foreign language. I remember 2-3 years ago while studying Spanish pregnant and then as a single mom of a newborn; I was SO tired. Yet one day I saw a woman, pregnant AND on crutches, studying a foreign language. And about a week later I met a woman on the shuttle bus who was pregnant, had a small child, her husband still at their previous post, AND undergoing chemotherapy, studying a foreign language. Yeah, I try to remember those women and their fortitude when I am feeling sorry for myself. I also try to remember that for everyone that was visibly struggling with something there are those struggling and juggling things not readily apparent. Just like me.

One week down, eighteen to go.* Hopefully I am not too too old for this.

 

 

*turns out unlike during my Spanish training, the Christmas week off is not being counted as part of our training time this go around. Yay!

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Temporarily Permanent

In my last installment of my home leave epic my 2 ½ year old toddler C posed this question to me “Where is home?”

Good question sweetheart.

I am not sure what concept of “home” C may have though it felt different from her earlier requests to “go to hotel.” What sense of permanence does such a young person have considering their age and that in the previous 9 weeks we stayed in a total of 15 different hotels and five different homes of friends and/or family? Was she tired of moving? I cannot really say, but I know that as much as I enjoyed my Home Leave, towards the end I certainly craved something more permanent.

Now here we are in Herndon, Virginia, moving into an extended stay hotel. Right, a hotel, but it will be our home for the next 21 weeks (and just 21 weeks provided I pass my first Chinese test…Please let me pass it, please. End fervent prayer).

21 weeks.

Most people would not find this a particularly long time. It isn’t really. When I break it down and think about how much Mandarin Chinese I have to cram into my brain in such a period I panic at its incredible briefness. And yet, at the same time it feels luxuriously lengthy.

I can buy food. Lots of it. You know, like salt and pepper and sugar and soy sauce and butter and grapeseed oil for cooking. And peanut butter. And salad dressing. And eggs. And Claussen Kosher Dill Spears. And cheese. Lots of cheese. Because, you know, I have a fridge. And Q-tips and shampoo and conditioner and saran wrap and dishwashing soap because this is more than just a way station. I even bought multivitamins, so you know I mean business.

I spent nearly $275 my first trip to the store. That is just the beginning. I probably bought only half the things I wanted. This is one of the reasons per diem is so much higher at the beginning because starting from scratch is not cheap.

21 weeks.

I have so many plans!

I plan to run. I am thinking an average of 10 miles a week. On actual running trails. Surrounded by trees and stuff. I might even run with other people and I do not mean running near people in a big race but actually running with them. The novelty. Go big or go home, you know? Or, er, go big or go elsewhere when home is a frequently shifting concept. I am already signed up for a 10K the first weekend of September. That would be next weekend, yes. I also have a half marathon on the schedule in October.

I have so many plans for C. I want to take her to the National Zoo, the National Children’s Museum, and the Udva- Hazy Center of the National Air and Space Museum. I want to take her to carousels in the area at Glen Echo Park and Clemyjontri Parks. I want to take her to the Frying Pan Farm Park and the Reston Zoo as these are places I visited when I was a little girl. I want to take her to Cox Farms Fall Festival because I took my niece a few years ago and we stayed for HOURS. I want to sign her up for toddler and mommy swim classes. Also her cousins, one of which is just 4 months older, live just 4 miles away from our hotel home. My parents live 6 miles away. I want C to spend time with her family before we head to China.

I also want to catch up with friends in the area. Many are back in the area for training of their and some of my closest friends are assigned to Washington, DC right now. It is not often so many of them are in one geographic area so I want to take advantage.
Somewhere in all of that there is this HUGE thing I am supposed to be doing. I am being PAID to do: Studying Mandarin Chinese.

When I think about studying Chinese the 21 weeks feel so very, very short. The first week is only 4 days and the first day is orientation, so really only 3 days. So, it’s 20 ½ weeks. But Columbus Day, Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving take away those 3 days. So it is just 20 weeks. My 21st week is supposed to be my week of packing out for Shanghai and taking care of last minute details and possibly meeting with relevant offices in DC. So it is just 19 weeks. But the teachers of FSI are actually on leave the two weeks of Christmas and New Year’s, so it is really just 17 weeks. Seventeen weeks of classroom instruction. A regular course of Chinese is 44 weeks. Panic sets in.  It is not enough time!

So I have 21 weeks to do it all in. That’s a lot. And a little. We are at least “home,” for the time being.

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NY: The Final Frontier (Sixth and Final Phase of Home Leave 2014)

We ended our vomit-free home leave streak the same day as my toddler asked me “Where’s home?” These might be two clear signs that it is time to bring home leave to a close.

Our trip to NY was primarily about visiting family and friends with a side trip to Niagara Falls (because who could resist?).

The night before beginning our Sixth Phase we arrived at my sister’s place after midnight but were up the following day and on the road to western New York by 11 am. We were on our way to visit C’s dad and paternal grandparents who live on the  Allegany Indian Reservation. C’s grandfather is a member of the Seneca Nation, one of the six nations of the Iroquois Confederacy. C is 1/16 Seneca Indian, though as its matrilineal, neither she nor her father are members. Though C is not a member of the tribe and therefore will not receive annuity checks or qualify for scholarships, I still find knowing this part of her genealogy interesting.

I convinced her dad to go to Midway State Park where, yes, you may have guessed it, there is a carousel. The park dates from 1898 and therefore is one of the oldest continually operating amusement parks in the United States. So it is on the National Register of Historic Places. I’ll be truthful; it looked a bit neglected, there were not many people there. Yet C doesn’t give a hoot if a place is popular or not, as long as there are fun things for her to do. She enjoyed the 1948 Herschell carousel and other kiddie rides.

After visiting her dad, we then headed to Niagara Falls. Wow. Just wow. The Falls are another place I have long wanted to visit. I took C on the Maid of the Mist boat trip though I had had some reservations about standing on a crowded slippery deck with everyone wearing the same blue ponchos. Still the ride is just 20 minutes total, which is just about as much time as a toddler (or her mom carrying her) can stand. We skipped the Cave of the Winds as I had heard it was definitely not the kind of place to take a real little one (read: wide “safety” bars with plenty of space for intrepid, independent toddlers to slip through = one of mommy’s greatest nightmares). I was so glad we took the Maid of the Mist ride soon after arrival on Friday as the weather was bright and clear and warm (i.e. perfect) and there was almost no wait to board. The following day it was overcast and the crowds were in force (the next to last Saturday of summer). C also woke with a fever.

Since C was not feeling 100% we took it easy the second day, though she still insisted we go “see fish,” so we did head out for a trolley ride to the Niagara Aquarium. I would not give the aquarium a good rating as it was really, really small. Still C liked the seal and sea lion and spent all her time just watching them, so whatever, she was happy.

I also indulged my new carousel obsession and drove to North Tonawanda, New York, just 20 minutes from Niagara to visit the Allan Herschell Carousel Factory Museum. Yeah. Can you believe it? Until San Francisco I liked carousels, but now I am finding them EVERYWHERE! The Factory Museum is also on the National Register of Historic Places and, naturally, includes an antique Herschell Carousel, from 1916. C rallied long enough to ride once around and some of the other kiddie rides. She even allowed me about 30 minutes to browse through the museum part.

Then we visited historic Fort Niagara, another State Park. Unfortunately C was much less keen, so we did not have much time there. It is located at a beautiful spot at the mouth of the Niagara River and Lake Ontario and is also listed on the U.S. National Register of Historic Places and a National Historic Landmark (two for one!). On the way back to our hotel we stopped at the Whirlpool State Park, to view the large swirling waters of the Niagara River as they churn downstream from the falls and watch the Aero Car cross perilously above the whirlpool on the Canadian side. As it was Home Leave we stayed entirely on the U.S. side, but I would love to return and spend some time across the border.

Next on the docket was a visit to Rochester to visit two friends of mine – one RH, I have known since she was 7 or 8 years old (I used to be her babysitter!) and the other MF is a friend from Indonesia who is studying for her Masters at the Rochester Institute of Technology. I have been looking forward to seeing these ladies for a long time. RH has two children of her own and although they are 5 and 13 years old, C bonded with them almost immediately. She ran to the younger boy, arms outstretched, as if she had known him a long time. Still, by the time we left she seemed more attached to the older child. While in Rochester we visited the Ontario Beach Park for a little time on the playground and several spins on the 1905 Dentzel carousel (!) and also visited the amazing Strong Museum of Play, rated as one of the country’s top children’s museum. Two and a half hours there (including lunch is the fabulous café in a 50s diner car located in the front atrium) gave us only a little time to scratch the surface. Just before we left we did have enough time to ride the 1918 Herschell carousel, also in the atrium.

Our final stop was Hamilton, NY where I met my cousin MK and her two kids. Or rather she is the cousin of my cousin and her kids the 2nd cousins once removed of my cousin, which makes them C’s 2nd cousins of her 2nd cousins. Following? It took me awhile to work that out in my head. For simplicity sake MK and I are going to be “CC’s” and the kids will be CC’s squared. We just enjoyed getting to know each other, including a fabulous home cooked dinner that included MK’s parents. MK lives just outside Hamilton, the location of Colgate University, on a lovely hill with a breathtaking summer view of the central New York countryside.

On our way home from Hamilton we stopped in Broome County, NY where six antique Herschell carousels are located. It is the only such place in the US where so many such carousels are concentrated and they are FREE for everyone to ride. I thought we might first just visit one or two, but once I learned that if we collected a card at each location we would earn a button at the end, I was committed. http://gobroomecounty.com/files/countyexec/GBVC%20Carousel%20Guide.pdf

And so ended the super amazing Home Leave 2014 adventure.

The Stats:
Total days: 60
Number of books finished: 10
Number of Children’s Museums visited: 5
Number of carousels ridden: 17
Miles Driven: Just over 5,000
Miles Flown: 15, 101
Miles Run: 62.2
Total number of States visited: 12
(TX, LA, MS, AL, TN, VA, HI, NC, CA, SD, WY, NY; 14 if you count driving through MD and PA to get to NY)

One EPIC Home Leave complete!

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Running with the Leading Ladies

I have a little problem. I suppose it is more passion than a problem. I am not referring to my desire to travel to just about all the countries in the world. Nor to my enjoyment of visiting aquariums everywhere I can find them or taking my daughter to as many children’s museums as possible. Not even the new fascination with historic carousels. This is my love of running half marathons. Not really a love, more a love-hate, which is even stronger.

I started in 2006. I joined a group to help me train for the Baltimore half marathon to raise money for the Whitman Walker clinic in Washington, DC. It was not easy, but I had a good time. The following year I signed up to do the same thing for a full marathon. That was even harder. I pulled my IT band about eight weeks before the run. It took me an hour longer to finish than expected. I went back to the halves. Again and again and again…

I have one of those vague plans now to run half marathon in each state. Vague because I do not know how many I have run so far and just about every time I am in preparation or at the start line or somewhere around mile 5 or 9 I think it might be the last I run. I do not count how many I have run thus far because when I start thinking of where I might run next, I realize there are far too many left to know if this thing is possible.

So home leave 2014 approaches. I schedule out my trips, buy my plane tickets. I hope to keep running along the way when I can, when I am able to get child care. I just out of curiosity decide to see if maybe, just maybe, there might be a half marathon in the area of South Dakota where I will be visiting, when I am visiting. Wouldn’t you know it, I found one. So then I had to sign up for it.

The Leading Ladies Marathon and Half Marathon is held in Spearfish, SD. It is an all women event. The half is completely downhill through Spearfish Canyon, named the most magnificent canyon in the west by Frank Lloyd Wright when he visited in 1935. This sounded so incredibly awesome.

My first issue was child care. I am a single mom with a 2 ½ year old toddler. In the past I have found licensed and bonded child care services that send sitters to hotels, such as in Las Vegas and Cincinnati. However, a fairly in-depth online search indicated there is no such thing in west South Dakota. Makes sense, these are not large cities. Lucky for me, I floated an idea with my aunt and it turned out she and my uncle were very interested in visiting this part of the country. Score.

Then wouldn’t you know it, in late May my ulcerative colitis starts to flare up. You may or may not be aware of UC – it’s an Irritable Bowel Disease like Crohn’s (which in my experience more people are familiar with). It is as unpleasant as it sounds. I have been fairly lucky with my UC. I was diagnosed in 2000 while traveling in Tunisia. Yeah, long story. It has been active about five times including this time. So I increase my medication and pay more attention to my diet – but things are stressful. In June I am packing out of my residence in Mexico and preparing to be on the move for nine weeks until training begins in September. Not exactly easy to be on my best diet behavior.

My plantar fasciitis, which first occurred in late 2010, makes a daring comeback the day before Christmas 2013. I have been running on that heel for months. Sometimes it is absolutely fine. Some days, not so much.

Then I develop a cold two weeks into my home leave that Will. Not. Go. Away.

Training is spotty while on the road.

As we drive from Deadwood to Spearfish we take the scenic route which passes through the canyon. It is lovely, but what I see are a lot of trees. Lots and lots and lots of trees. And a winding road with a narrow shoulder. It occurs to me I am a very urban runner. When not running outside on streets full of pedestrians or busy roads, I am inside on a treadmill. I also have an OCD habit of counting things when I am getting tired or need to focus or zone out. I wonder, how long it will take till I am tired of counting trees?

Two nights before the run, the eve before the eve, I am lying awake. It is midnight and then 1 am. I am thinking I am really not ready. The previous half marathon is three and a half months before. I have not run more than six miles in a single go since then. There is the UC and my fasciitis and my cold. It is warmer than in average years (usually 44 at the start and 75 by noon but this year it is 60 something at the start and possibly in the upper 80s by noon – not that I would finish at noon). My heart pounds in my chest. I cannot remember being so nervous before a half since my first half.

I remind myself what I have going for me. 1. I have run this distance before. 2. It is all downhill. 3. There are not that many participants (less than 500 total for both events) so no real lines for the port-a-potties. 4. I do not need to set a PR. 5. I do not even have to run the whole thing if I don’t want to. 6. I do not *have* to do this at all. 7. My daughter will be waiting for me when I am done. After reaching out to my sister and a good friend and two online groups to which I belong, I feel good enough to fall asleep and feel calm the following day.

And I did it.

And it was lovely.

I ran the whole thing – with only walks through the water stops and one longish wait for a bathroom break. The first six miles seemed to fly by. I felt good, really, really good. I took it slow the whole way and despite it being all downhill I found that easy enough to do. I had my iPod with me and I remember a few songs, but not most. By eight miles I made a deal with myself – to run just one more mile and then see how I felt. I reached nine and made the same deal. Again at ten. By eleven I knew I would finish. I also knew it would be a PR – for my slowest half ever – and I was fine with it.

So another half completed in another state. Right now I still do not know how many more to go to reach all 50. I move to Shanghai next year with complicates things. I think I have at least one more in me though.

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Black Hills and Bad Lands (Home Leave Phase Five)

South Dakota. I have had this on my list of must-sees for a long, long time. I remember even when living in Japan in the late 90s, plotting out a possible visit. Way back then I barely had an email account and there was no internet in my small 2DK (two tatami mat room with dining room and kitchen) apartment on the Western Japanese coast. It was just me, some maps, pen and paper. Needless to say I did not go then, but the planning continued.

Of course I have had loads of opportunities to travel in the past but I am, or at least was, more prone to travel outside of the US than in. Lured by exotic locales like Cambodia and Thailand or Italy and Croatia or South Africa and Moldova, I just could not resist. (Yeah, Moldova; I’ve been there.) Home Leave however must be taken in the US and from the beginning I knew mine this summer would include South Dakota. I worked all the other destinations around it.

Funny though, whenever I mentioned South Dakota as part of my Home Leave, it’s this part which received the most quizzical looks. Why South Dakota? Wow, really? Have you looked at a map? The concentration of National Parks / Monuments / Forests / Grasslands / Landmarks / Natural Sites near Rapid City is amazing. It’s an area steeped in tangible American history and incredible natural beauty.

Our transition from San Francisco to west South Dakota was not so smooth. Our flight out of SFO departed two hours late so we missed out connecting flight. Luckily there was a second flight soon afterwards, which departed on time. However, my aunt and uncle, who we joining us on the phase, had their flight out of Chicago cancelled arriving at midnight instead of 4:30 pm. A Juarez colleague, also on an amazing home leave, sent me a message to tell me not to forget to relax (which is not easy when traveling to so many amazing places and seeing so many amazing things). I thought then C and I would have a quiet first evening but less than 10 minutes in our hotel room and C fell off the settee (the cushion slid out from under her) and she hit the base of the bed, hard. A ping pong sized lump swelled up on her right temple. So being the relatively new mom I am I rushed her to Urgent Care. Thankfully she was fine but that was all the excitement I needed for our first day.

We had an amazing trip! Although I had planned to see many of these sights for years, I did not fully grasp how extraordinary it would be to actually see them. Badlands National Park and Devils Tower National Monument were incredible. I loved visiting Mt. Rushmore (although the parking charge of $11 seemed excessive to enter an otherwise free park– I hope the money does go to the NPS). I have heard people express disappointment with how small the monument seems in person. I was not disappointed at all. Not even when we could not complete the Presidential Trail, which takes visitors closer to the monument. The walk with 250 stairs was a bit much in the heat for my uncle who has a heart valve and me with an active toddler who wants to climb 20 steps and then beg for a “huggie” (pick me up) the rest of the way.

My aunt and uncle selected our accommodation for our third and fourth nights at the Blue Bell Lodge cabins in Custer State Park. We entered the park by a scenic back road after visiting Mt. Rushmore and had lunch in the park at the State Game Lodge, a historic building which once served as the Presidential summer residence for Calvin Coolidge and F.D.R. There are four lodge areas in the park and we stayed two nights in a cabin in Blue Bell Lodge area. It too was very lovely and our cabin came complete with 2-3 cotton tail bunnies that lived under the porch and which C enjoyed chasing.

The park is beautiful and teeming with wildlife. We took both a late afternoon and early morning drive along the Wildlife Loop Road and saw prairie dogs, mule deer, Pronghorn deer, wild burros, wild turkeys, and bison! Seriously, bison! Who does not get excited about seeing bison? And I had zero idea I would be seeing them in South Dakota as I have only ever associated them with Yellowstone. But there were A LOT of them in the park and not just along the Wildlife Loop road. We also saw them grazing on the grounds of the State Game Lodge and other campgrounds. It turned out they were hanging outside our own cabin at night as we heard their heavy footfalls, pawing at the ground, chewing, and snorting in the night!

We also visited Wind Cave National Park just south of Custer State Park. Unfortunately, we did not go inside the cave, one of the largest in the world, as the shortest tour, an hour long, did not seem the best of ideas to do with C. When we inquired if a ten minute “toddler friendly” tour might be available the park ranger had a good laugh at our expense. Well, we tried. Still, we did walk out to the small (dare I say *tiny*?) natural entrance to the cave where a strong cool breeze blew. We also saw bison and prairie dogs and every place you can see those gets high marks.

Our next stop was the Mammoth Site in Hot Springs. Originally, when it was just C and I on the trip, I had planned on staying in Hot Springs. I am SO glad my aunt and uncle joined us and suggested the state park. Hot Springs looked really tired. So, I started to worry the Site too would be a disappointment, but it turned out to be very interesting! It is designated a National Natural Landmark and is where the most mammoth (Columbian, not Wooly) bones have been found – an estimated 61 different animals! It’s an actual working archeological dig, museum, and research facility.

We passed the Crazy Horse Memorial in-progress on our way from Custer State Park to Deadwood. I had wanted to visit but the price tag, level of completion, and the number of museums C would no doubt not really let me see made the decision to stop for only a from-the-highway-photo easier.

Deadwood too is of course a famous historic area, even more so since the airing of the incredible HBO series, which I finished up just weeks before leaving Juarez. The entire town is designated a National Historic Landmark. I just wanted to stroll the streets where the likes of Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, and Seth Bullock had once frequented. I took part in a reenactment of the shooting of Wild Bill at the reconstructed Saloon #10 (though not at the original location). I rarely put my hand up for such things, but there I was, at the poker table posing as Charlie Rich, who refused to switch seats with Wild Bill (and I have no idea how to play poker, which may have been the funniest part of my reenactment). We took a tour of the Victorian Adams Mansion (a 45 minute house tour with C!!) and visited Mt. Moriah Cemetery.

Spearfish followed Deadwood. From here we visited the Devils Tower National Monument in Wyoming and the Center of the Nation monument in Belle Fourche, the town founded by, yes, Seth Bullock of Deadwood fame. The town is the closest to the actual geographic center of the nation including Alaska and Hawaii. Then I ran a half marathon down Spearfish Canyon, decreed the most magnificent canyon in the west by Frank Lloyd Wright after his 1935 visit. You did read that right though. I ran 13.1 miles through the canyon from Savoy to the Spearfish City Park. Not on my own, mind you, it was an organized run. A crazy idea that turned out really well.

On our last day we stopped by a fish hatchery in Spearfish before returning to Rapid City for our late afternoon flight. A fish hatchery! Yet while in the Tri-State Visitor’s Center in Belle Fourche, we learned that our darling Seth Bullock helped to secure this federal facility. Today it is a Historic National Fish Hatchery and on the national register of historic places! We spent over an hour there and would have stayed longer if we had not needed to catch our flight.

I am tired. I will not lie about that; this home leave plan of mine is a little daunting. Yet it is also so amazing. This week in South Dakota exceeded all of my expectations. Our country is incredible.