On the ride to work every morning in New Delhi, we slow down for zebu, the hump-backed holy cow of India. Locked up at night by their urban owners, they roam in little packs early in the morning, gnoshing on garbage or patches of grass. Imagine our surprise to see some of their relatives, living the high life here in Michigan. We spotted these little guys at the Oakland County Fair petting zoo.
I made this video at the beginning of the summer for Britt, who is stationed in Korea. We are totally over the moon for his little guy, William, and we feel so fortunate to have this time with Will and his mama, Meg, before they head to Korea to be with Daddy.
I know parents everywhere get weepy when their babies start school, but I am still in shock that this little guy …
… is going into first grade this fall! My first nephew. My baby Nico.
I realize this video ranks up there with the world’s most boring, if not downright painful, experiences for anyone not in love with Nico Jimenez. However, I cranked it out for posterity. Poorly filmed with my phone and quickly edited, it simply serves to remind the future us of how little he once was.
Congratulations, my precious little kindergarten graduate. And thank you, Mrs. Woods, for teaching and taking care of him.
Jack wasn’t the only new baby at the lake this year.
When Tony and I first got back to Michigan, we spotted this duck chillin’ in one of our front-yard hosta plants.
We named her Sheila because it sounded funny when we imitated her boyfriend calling her from the lake, “Hey Sheila, c’mon, there’s a big party under the willow tree. Sheila! You used to be so fun! Now all you do is sit around on that nest all day, geez.”
We presumed Sheila was nesting, so I did a little research. I am now an expert on mallard duck nesting behaviors. For example:
* Once mama duck has found a place to nest, she typically lays one egg per day, up to about 10.
* Incubation doesn’t start until she’s done laying eggs. Who knew?
* Once the clutch is complete, incubation lasts about a month, and then all the ducklings hatch around the same time.
* When the babies arrive, mama duck leads them to water, and they all paddle off to a safe source of food.
I also read that Sheila would abandon her nest if things got a little too loud or scary, so we stressed about her for weeks. Our noisy construction project, paired with all the Fourth of July festivities, would have persuaded me to waddle away, but she stayed put.
On July 8, I woke up early and walked out to the dock, where I spotted Sheila and her little brood at the water’s edge.
Hang in there, Sheila. Don’t let those randy drakes distract you from your parenting duties.
On July 9, my nephew collection increased by one fuzzy-headed 8.6-pound little bundle of love, John Morton Jimenez aka Jack. Congratulations to mommy Kate and daddy John!
A few days earlier, I went with Kate to her final ultrasound. I thought her other two boys, Paul and Nico, would be excited to see the baby on the monitor. Instead, they acted like ding dongs and had to sit in time out. By then, poor Jack was crammed in there so tightly we couldn’t really make out many of his features anyway.
The next day, Megan played hostess for a little baby shower dinner.
My sisters timed their previous babies without any consideration of my schedule, so I was particularly excited to be in the States for Jack’s arrival. My mom and I visited Kate in the hospital a few hours after she was induced, but there wasn’t much going on, so we went home for a dip in the pool.
My other sister, Megan, handed off her own baby to me and dashed out, determined to be present at the birth. Later, she reported sprinting down the hallway at the hospital, arriving at Kate’s room seconds too late. From outside the door, she heard Jack’s surprised wail as he entered this world.
Brothers and cousin, Emma, check out the new baby. Paul wasn’t too sure about this at first, but he has since warmed up to the idea.
Jack and me. Love.
My favorite part of summer vacation every year is re-connecting with friends and family. I always head back overseas in August wishing I had time to make one more interstate phone call or entertain one more visitor at the lake or take one more trip to see someone special.
This summer was more chaotic than usual, but we still managed to squeeze in a few meet-ups.
Our first visitor came roaring up the twisty lake road to our house in her new-to-her RV. Jacquelyn popped by Michigan at the start of her summer-long U.S. tour. Read about it on her blog, Teaching and Travelling Around the World. Jacquelyn’s sweet ride included a kitchen, bathroom, beds and lots of little closets. So fun!
We “always” roadtrip across the border to Stratford, Ontario, for the Shakespeare Festival and fun with the Hossacks. Scott, Amy and Blake entertained us despite some dreary weather (no cycling this year, even though we hauled our bikes all the way there). We stayed at Legacy House B&B and enjoyed a spectacular rendition of “Fiddler on the Roof,” as well as a Shakespeare play neither Tony nor I had seen before, “Measure for Measure.”
It has become a tradition for Amy and me to pose with this scary Shakespeare statue that we think shoots laser beams out of his eyes.
Blake brilliantly hypothesized that he could launch this bubble rocket higher if he jumped on it from the tree branch. And one of the things I love most about the Hossacks is that they would never discourage such an experiment.
The Hossacks live down the road from Stratford in St. Marys, also home to the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame. We saw George Bell and Tim Raines get inducted and then whack some balls in a “home run derby.”
We scored these awesome shades at a local restaurant.
While poking around Stratford’s Art in the Park, I saw a kid who looked familiar. Then my brain took in the whole scene, and I realized it was a family we knew in Laos! Moe Moe was our school nurse at Vientiane International School. Small world!
During our stay in Stratford, friends from Istanbul – Aylin and Cagatay – drove in from Toronto for a couple hours. We were so grateful they made the trip although we were disappointed we didn’t get to meet their gorgeous little girls.
On our way back to Michigan, we stopped by London, Ontario, for lunch with another fab family we knew in Shanghai: the Smith-Kellys. Now that we realize how near they are to our lake house, we anticipate plenty of future summer fun!
Just before crossing the bridge back to the States, we paused for drinks with Stephanie in Sarnia. She and I were first-year teachers in Istanbul, so we shared a lot of tears. Dang it, we forgot to take a photo of our little reunion … we’ll have to do it again next year.
Back in Michigan, we welcomed Cami for the Fourth of July weekend – second year in a row! Again, we feel deeply grateful for friends who go out of their way (and swallow their fear of flying) to hang with us.
With just a week left to go, I think we’re done meeting up with old friends. For this summer, anyway. See you in 2014?
As for family, well, they deserve a post of their own. Stay tuned.
I’m newly addicted to the HGTV show “Love It or List It.” A decorator and a Realtor face off to convince people either to remodel and stay in their home or put their house on the market and move. I love it because I’m living it.
In 2009, we bought a summer home in Michigan that had been divided into two living areas so the owner’s adult son could have his own apartment. We decided to let him stay and serve as a caretaker. For legal reasons (turns out our house isn’t ALLOWED to be a duplex), we recently asked him to move. Although we renovated “our” side of the house, we haven’t set foot in “his” side since we bought the house. Let’s just say it needed a lot of TLC. We knew we had a few options:
(1) Seal that part of the house until we could save up enough money to update and renovate.
(2) Avoid the hassle and sell the house.
(3) Give the space a facelift with a coat of paint and new carpet (even though we knew there was surely some wiring, plumbing and HVAC that was last up to code in the 1950s).
(4) Do what we always do and impulsively jump without thinking it through.
We opted for #4.
After perusing Angie’s List and contacting several contractors, we hired DA Home Improvement to tackle the job. Our plan? Rip out the downstairs kitchen and convert it into a garage. Bump out the upstairs to create a space over the new garage with a big bay window and new master bathroom. After hearing some estimates for the work, we scrapped the garage and scaled our project WAY back. Now we’re looking at a downstairs utility room and an upstairs master bedroom/bath.
Originally, we were hoping to finalize all the plans so the contractors could do the work over the winter months, communicating with us in India via email and FaceTime. However, DA said they would put two other jobs on hold to get our work done before we head back to Delhi! With only three weeks to go, we’re cautiously optimistic.
Here are some BEFORE shots.
Everything left of the tree is gutted.
The kitchen is gone.
This was a garage in our dream plan, but now it will be a utility room.
Upstairs, we’ll have a grown-up-sized bedroom. Woo hoo!
One half bath + one half bath = one master bathroom
This room was the original construction (with an outhouse in the back yard). It’s well on the way to becoming a spacious closet and bathroom.
Cross your fingers!
Our first year in India was hard, possibly the hardest first year we’ve had in our 12 years overseas. As Bob Hetzel, our outgoing school director, is fond of saying, “Whatever is true about India, the opposite is also true.” That makes it particularly difficult to learn the ropes and settle in to this city that defies all western logic. Add that to the heat, the pollution, the crowds, the chaos.
By the end of our first year, we were feeling marginally better about our decision to move here but still overwhelmingly frustrated. Then a departing teacher, who spent five years in New Delhi, shared this snippet of wisdom: “Your second year will be exponentially better. And your third year will be exponentially better than your second year. And so on. You won’t believe it!”
He was right. Year two really WAS exponentially better than year one. Not perfect, but much much better. I don’t really know WHY, but it was. As I gear up for a Michigan summer, I can honestly say I look forward to coming back to India in the fall.
New Delhi is finally starting to feel like home. We’ve even expanded our family after talking about it for years. We’re going to miss these girls over the summer, but I made a quick video to keep them with me as we travel.
Browsing through the shops in Delhi’s backpacker district, Pahar Ganj, I laughed with my friends Katrina and Nancy at the spangly belly dancing costumes for sale. “We should totally do a photo shoot wearing those outfits at some historical site!” we joked. Somehow that throw-away comment turned into a brilliant plan, which came to fruition last weekend.
The three of us became fast friends as “newbies” at the American Embassy School, and we’re now struggling with the knowledge that Katrina won’t be here after summer break; she’s heading back to the States. There couldn’t be a better going-away gift for this beautiful, elegant lady than Glamour Shots – Delhi Style. In addition, over the last two years, we three felt compelled to stage the clichéd Charlie’s Angels guns-drawn pose every time we spotted a camera. While those shots were all spontaneous, we couldn’t resist actually planning a special culminating picture.
As the day of the photo shoot approached, I tried on my costume. It was completely see-through and not at all flattering.
“Maybe we should wear our pretty Indian clothes instead,” I suggested. We each have saris, anarkalis or lehengas, which pop with color and better camouflage our flaws. We agreed to pose in our fancy outfits first, and then we’d change into our belly dancing costumes.
Around 7 a.m. Sunday, our make-up artist arrived (late) and went to work on me.
Yogita had no sense of humor about this experience, or maybe she just wasn’t a morning person. I told her I could do my own mascara, and she commanded me to make my lashes thick. “I’ll try,” I said, “but I only have about four lashes on each eye.” Katrina and Nancy laughed, but Yogita only responded drily, “I know. I saw.”
Katrina was next, then Nancy.
Finally we were ready to meet up with our photographer, Tim Steadman, who was patiently waiting at the Qutub Minar parking lot. Yogita clumsily banged her make-up suitcase down the stairs until it burst open and spilled her supplies everywhere. Already more than 30 minutes late, we rudely tiptoed over the scattered plastic boxes and brushes to dash out to my car.
Worried my long full skirt would get bunched under the car pedals, I opted to drive in capris. At the Qutub Minar parking lot, I pulled on my skirt and whipped off my pants before we phoned Tim to say we’d arrived. By the time we climbed into his car, it was about 9:45 a.m. and already 108ºF. He drove a short distance and pulled into a quiet road leading to the Mehrauli Archaeological Park, where we ladies had once visited on a walking tour. Check out MEHRAULI ARCHAEOLOGICAL PARK – AN URBAN OASIS. If you don’t feel like reading my old blog post, here’s a paragraph about the spot Tim chose for the day:
Sir Thomas Metcalfe, who was the East India Company’s resident at the Mughal Court, constructed his 19th-century country house right over the 17th-century mausoleum of Muhammad Quli Khan (an attendant to the Mughal emperor Akbar and stepson of Akbar’s wet nurse). Metcalfe’s dining room was apparently directly over Khan’s tomb, and he further embellished the area with pavilions, a dovecote and a waterway to bring visitors to the estate by boat.
Unfortunately, getting there required a bit of walking and climbing of steep steps. This trek was much easier on the aforementioned walking tour in appropriate footwear and sensible clothes. I tottered in my strappy sandals over the lawn and up the broken stone steps, clutching my wadded-up tulle dupata in one sweaty hand and layers of heavy polyester skirt fabric in the other. We took refuge in the shade but couldn’t avoid the scorching breeze that evaporated all the moisture from our eyes and lips.
Katrina’s a natural.
Lovely Nancy.
Me “working it.”
I think we were going for sultry here, but we mostly just look pissed.
One of my favorites.
That’s the 12th-century Qutub Minar in the background. Standing on the grounds of Delhi’s “first city” dressed in fancy Indian garb felt kinda magical.
Unlike Yogita, Tim had a wonderful sense of humor. “Just put one hand on your hip like this,” he would say, striking the pose. “And then stick out your other hip and look off in the distance.” It’s a good thing he knew how to pose us because only Katrina seemed to have a natural flair for modeling. I couldn’t help acting ridiculous, quoting Zoolander and Austin Powers. “Now you’re a lemur!”
We eventually got around to our Charlie’s Angels pose, accentuated with a nice windblown hair effect.
Not yet ready to wrap it up, we threw in a little Matrix action, too.
By the time we trudged back to Tim’s car, sweaty and dehydrated, we had lost the motivation to peel off our dresses and stage a redux in the belly dancing costumes. Whew!
Looking at Tim’s photos, we can’t help but notice our saggy baggy flabby bits, but it’s also easy to see the beauty – inside and out. This was a joyous, silly, beauty-filled day, and I felt especially grateful to have such amazing ladies in my life.
Here’s a video with some of my favorite shots.
Want more? Check out my flickr album, Charlie’s Angels – Delhi Style, with all 160 photos (80 shots in both color and B&W).
Yowza.
Maldives
Thailand
Oman
Nepal
India
In the last five weeks, I spent only one weekend in New Delhi. Finally, a few moments to process. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, personally and professionally. Here’s the scoop in chronological order:
Maldives – Nothing soothes my soul like a little time by the sea. Tony and I escaped for a week in Paradise for Spring Break. See my post about our relaxing vacation – Maldives Diary.
Thailand – As an EAL (English as an Additional Language) specialist, I co-teach in grade-level classrooms, usually during the literacy block. The workshop model at our school draws heavily on resources from the Teachers College Reading and Writing Project at Columbia University. For years, I’ve heard teachers rave about the Teachers College summer institutes, but I’ve never had an opportunity to go. Unable to get to the mountain, I brought the mountain to me! Well, the Near East South Asia Council of Overseas Schools brought the “mountain” to its Spring Educators Conference, and I was lucky to land a coveted spot in The Writing Project’s Foundation Course. I can see the eyerolls and exaggerated snoring sounds, but seriously, I was like a kid in a candy store. Top-notch instruction with immediate take-aways. That’s the kind of stuff teachers drool over. Another perk was networking and sharing ideas with educators from other international schools.
After 12 years overseas, it would be impossible to attend an international teachers conference and not see friends from my past – thank goodness! This conference was no different; I ran into people from our days in Istanbul, Shanghai and Vientiane.
Oman – As arguably the least-sporty coach at our school, I gave a pathetically weepy speech at the Season 3 Awards Ceremony last week. For some reason, the Forensics Team (debate, public speaking and drama) gets recognized alongside softball, baseball, badminton and track-and-field athletes. Maybe the “real” coaches found me a bit overdramatic, but that’s what we forensics geeks love. As one of four coaches who traveled with the team to Muscat, Oman, in mid-April, I felt overwhelmed with pride for their accomplishments at the tournament. See details at O, Man! Forensics and Fun in Muscat.
Nepal – With the end of the school year in sight, I joined four other ladies for a weekend get-away to Kathmandu to recharge our batteries and enjoy some quality time with two friends moving back to the States. Check out that post at Kathmandu – Ladies Weekend.
India – This is such a busy and emotional time in the life of a teacher abroad. Report cards, placement decisions for next year, language testing, farewell parties for friends moving on, big changes.
Looking back to May 2012, I can say our first year in India was hard, possibly the hardest first year we’ve had anywhere. As Bob Hetzel, our departing school director, is fond of saying, “Whatever is true about India, the opposite is also true.” That makes it particularly difficult to learn the ropes and settle in to this city that defies all western logic. By the end of our first year, we were feeling marginally better about our decision to move here but still overwhelmingly frustrated. Then a departing teacher, who spent five years in New Delhi, shared this snippet of wisdom: “Your second year will be exponentially better. And your third year will be exponentially better than your second year. And so on. You won’t believe it!” He was right.
Year two really WAS exponentially better than year one. Not perfect, but much much better. Despite the daily head-slapping confusion of living in a developing country, we also experience daily revelations. I cautiously look forward to an exponentially better year three. As we add two new members to our household, New Delhi is finally starting to feel like home.
Introducing Ella and Khushi.
