It has been only sixty hours since we arrived in Tanzania... it feels like we have been here for days, though. We went on a trip to a beach just off the coast of Dar es Salaam today, about a 45 minute boat ride one way. The beach was beautiful, and full of shells... fresh fish for lunch, and shade to be found. I am still feeling very out of sorts, almost like I have been ripped away from something familiar and tossed into the unfamiliar, and it always takes me a couple weeks to settle in... but watching the children today made me remember the most important quality of an international traveler. Flexibility.
Zachary went down to the water with me, and we were running from the waves. As we were playing, a little Masai boy came to join us. He was smiling and running and jumping in the water with no fear... I looked around for his father, whom I had seen earlier in the day, but couldn't see anyone. We had no language in common, and yet Zach found a way to share his joy with him. It was wonderful to watch them laughing and shouting, exclaiming over the big waves crashing around them. I was reminded that these are the moments of life, and that they are the same no matter where you are...
Living life in the moment is something that I am trying to do more of.
One day at a time...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Picking up roots
I don't believe that I have ever been in this position... in the place of one who will be picking up roots and moving to another place. Those of you who know me are laughing. Perhaps you think I am trying to crack a joke. Not really, though. I haven't ever felt like I can put down roots before this year... this year of sabbatical, being at home, making new friends, putting our kids into local schools, attending community events, and really finding space to breathe. I put down roots this year, which is something that I always thought I would never do.
It is going to be really hard to leave this time...
For this reason alone.
Why did I do it, you might ask? Well, I didn't mean to... I came home thinking that Matthew would never entertain the idea of sticking around, and so I approached moving home as another overseas assignment of sorts, trying to maintain a safe distance from everyone and everything. Then I began to meet really beautiful people, and I began to hope... Matthew found himself enjoying himself far more than he ever dreamed he would, and he started to think about my idea of moving home. I sent down some feelers at this point and they found fertile ground...
Then we began to spend more time with good people, and get to know them really well... the roots went deeper.
We began to make this home our own, renovating and making it more liveable for us as a family... and the roots went even deeper and started to hold fast.
It scares me to leave so soon after planting such good seeds. I keep telling myself that the roots will hold fast while I am away, but it is frightening none-the-less.
For now I will hang on as tightly as I can... I will hold on to this feeling for as long as I can, and pray that the roots will be strong enough to hold me no matter how far I might go.
It is going to be really hard to leave this time...
For this reason alone.
Why did I do it, you might ask? Well, I didn't mean to... I came home thinking that Matthew would never entertain the idea of sticking around, and so I approached moving home as another overseas assignment of sorts, trying to maintain a safe distance from everyone and everything. Then I began to meet really beautiful people, and I began to hope... Matthew found himself enjoying himself far more than he ever dreamed he would, and he started to think about my idea of moving home. I sent down some feelers at this point and they found fertile ground...
Then we began to spend more time with good people, and get to know them really well... the roots went deeper.
We began to make this home our own, renovating and making it more liveable for us as a family... and the roots went even deeper and started to hold fast.
It scares me to leave so soon after planting such good seeds. I keep telling myself that the roots will hold fast while I am away, but it is frightening none-the-less.
For now I will hang on as tightly as I can... I will hold on to this feeling for as long as I can, and pray that the roots will be strong enough to hold me no matter how far I might go.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The Journey, Part 2
Off I went... I have to admit that I was a bit nervous about leaving the airport. I met some Canadians at Starbucks who thought I should go to the silk market. This sounded very cool indeed, and I was tempted... but it meant taking three different subway lines, and walking on my own in Beijing without directions and with no ability to speak Chinese. So... I stuck with the easier option. The subway came above ground shortly after leaving the airport and I had about fifteen minutes of scenery before being plunged into darkness again. The landscape that whizzed past my window was oddly familiar... it reminded me of my days in Kyrgyzstan. The stark, barren landscape dotted with wooden carts pulled by horses and Chinese farmers with their long beards, wool coats and hats brought me back to my time in Asia... I half expected the merchant at the subway exit to speak to me in Russian. But as I emerged from the Beijing subway station in the middle of the shopping district, I was hit with a wall of cold air. I looked up at the tall skyscrapers on all sides and looked for the "great shopping" that I had been told I would find. I spotted a shopping centre on the opposite side of the road, but saw no clear way to cross to the other side. It was then that I realized that here, like in Kyrgyzstan, the safest way to cross the street was to use the underground tunnel. I spent about an hour and a half wandering around the mall, looking for anything of interest... the reality is that the stores are always the same! Swatch, Zara, Nike, fancy handbags and shoes, jewelery... nothing that really interests me. I should have gone to the silk market. Ah well, too late by that point, so I headed back to the airport.
I found a spot to have some dinner, looking for something other than fast food. Then I went to line up at the ticketing agent, trying to be first in line for check-in. Even though it was still over an hour until the check-in would be open, I was not the first to arrive. There were several others in line, so I joined their ranks and pulled out my book. When the agents arrived and I stepped up to the counter, I was so relieved! The ticketing agent asked if I had any luggage to check, and I let her know that it had been checked through from Vancouver to Bangkok, and that I just needed a boarding pass. She asked for my confirmation number, which I promptly showed her. As she picked up her phone and began speaking to someone very quickly in Chinese, my heart began to race. I waited patiently for her to address me and, when she finally did, she asked if I had changed my reservation. I calmly explained the situation to her, telling her how I had originally been scheduled to take a connecting flight within China but had realized that I needed a visa to do so (which I didn't have) and so the Air Canada agent had kindly changed my ticket for me less than a week before (for a fee, of course). She looked up at me with sympathetic eyes and said, "I'm sorry, but the agent only rebooked the ticket. It was never reissued, so you don't actually have a ticket". I looked at her unbelieving and said that there must be something we could do about it. She apologized again, saying that there actually wasn't anything she could do. I immediately asked to speak to her supervisor who came over and quickly washed his hands of it, saying that it was an Air Canada issue and not theirs. He directed me to a counter several rows away where the Air Canada agents were checking in their passengers and said that I should go and speak to someone there.
As I walked away, dumbfounded, I felt the tears start to roll down my cheeks. I saw myself in China, more than twenty-four hours later, being arrested for not having a visa and being thrown into prison. Amazing how the worst case scenario always passes before my eyes! I tried to gather my wits together as I walked towards the Air Canada desk. When I got there, the line of people waiting to check in snaked around and I knew that I didn't have either the time or the energy to deal with that, so I marched up to the nearest agent and told them I had an emergency situation that needed their immediate attention. My tears must have given them quite a scare, because they ushered me through, past the line-up, and brought me straight to the counter. I blurted out my predicament, as best as I could between sobs, and the man had pity on me. He explained that there was nothing he himself could do, but that it was an issue for Aeroplan Canada and he would try to contact them immediately. He picked up his phone and dialed, passing the receiver to me. I listened as a woman's voice told me the hours of operation, asking me to call back during regular office hours. I tried to reason with him, explaining that I was stranded in China without a visa, crying harder and harder as I tried to get his help. He apologized that there was nothing he could do, unless I wanted to buy another ticket. Buy another ticket? Perfect! I looked up with hope in my eyes and said that would be perfect, knowing that I had a good case for Aeroplan to reimburse me when I got back to Canada. I would have to buy the ticket from Thai Airways, he explained, and so I headed back to the Thai Airways desk with a small glimmer of hope in my soul.
Thai Airways confirmed that there was still availability on their flight, and that they could get my baggage on the flight with no problem at all. It wasn't cheap, though, and I wanted to be sure that this was the right move. So... I went over to the phone to try and use my credit card to phone Matt in the middle of the night back home in Pender Harbour. To my credit, I did cringe while dialing, knowing that I would be waking him from a deep sleep, and that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for worrying about me all alone in China (or at least I hoped he would be worrying!)... but the credit card wouldn't work anyway. So, I carried the laptop to a free WiFi zone in the airport, after entering my passport details for the Chinese government to be granted permission to USE the "free" WiFi, and I attempted to open Skype. Of course not. Forbidden application, apparently. I was beginning to panic. Back I went to the Thai Airways desk, having decided to complete the transaction. I handed over my credit card, and the look on the agents face said it all. "Oh, I'm sorry, but our machines don't accept chip cards. Do you have cash?" I couldn't believe my bad luck! I pulled out my Mastercard, but it is also a chip card. I only had about one hundred USD in cash, so that wouldn't do... so I went over to the bank machine to withdraw cash. Nope. Of course not. No way CIBC was going to cooperate in my moment of crisis. The tears started to pour down my cheeks again, and I went back to the counter to see if there was ANYthing they might be able to do for me.
By this time, one of the agents actually took pity on me. She came out from behind the counter and asked me to come with her, telling me she had a plan to help me. She told me that Air China had a flight to Bangkok and that they were able to accept chip cards, if she wasn't mistaken. She led me to the Air China counter and, sure enough, they would be able to accept my credit card. They also had space on their flight, leaving at almost the same time, and were willing to sell me the ticket. The good news was that their ticket was cheaper, but the bad news was that I would now have to find my luggage and recheck it in the little time I had before the flight was scheduled to depart. I realized that I would need to do this before paying for the ticket. I had about an hour... I was now hyperventilating with worry. Picture a tall, white foreigner in the middle of a Chinese airport sliding to the group in front of the check-in counter to pull out her inhaler and deal with a stress-induced asthma attack. Yes folks, I was stressing out. A couple puffs on the inhaler helped me back onto my feet and off I went to the baggage claims area, friendly Thai Airways woman at my side to explain my predicament to the agent downstairs. The two women exchanged dialogue and then the agent made a phone call and came back with good news. My bag had been located and they would be sending it up shortly. The woman from Thai Airways told me not to worry and said that she should get back upstairs.
She was the first person to show kindness to me that day and so, despite the obvious taboo involved, I leaned down and embraced her. I pulled away and apologized, saying that this was how I would say thank-you to someone in Canada who had been as kind as she had been to me. A shy smile crept across her face, and she turned and left me there.
As the minutes ticked by, my stress level began to rise once again. I was under a deadline, and I still hadn't spoken with Matthew to tell him what was going on. The tears started to fall again. This time the other woman asked if there was anything she could do to help. I told her that I would feel so much better if I could just speak with my husband back home in Canada. I told her about the various roadblocks to speaking with him and she offered for me to use her line. I was so relieved! I told her the number and soon heard his groggy voice on the other end of the line. He was indeed awoken from a deep sleep, but he quickly sobered up when I explained what had happened. He tried to calm me down and assured me that he would be on the phone to Aeroplan to try and sort things out as soon as their office opened the next day. When we got back to the baggage claims office, my bag had arrived. I hugged this small woman as well (hey, why not?) and quickly headed back up the stairs to the Air China desk to purchase my ticket, check in, make my way through customs, find my gate and board the plane. I made it just in time.
As I settled into my tight little economy class seat, I could feel the stress moving from my lungs into my sinuses. That, combined with the recirculated air on the six hour flight to Bangkok gave me a wicked sinus infection as a sort of "welcome to Thailand" present. Fantastic. Nothing a little antibiotics won't fix though. I arrived in the middle of the night at Olivia and Jean Noel's house and crawled into bed. The next morning, Olivia and I wandered around town a bit, got our nails done, and I tried to think happy thoughts to get rid of my sinus headache, but it was to no avail. I caught a taxi to the nearest clinic and was in and out of there in record time (half an hour if you can believe it) with an army of medications in my hands to fight my infection. Just in time for me to hit the sack again and prepare myself for the full day of interviews that I would have the next day.
The story only gets better from here (how can it get any worse, right?), and I am happy to say that I somehow pulled through. I managed to make a good impression on the school I was most interested in and signed a contract with them on the morning of the second day of the job fair. I am fairly certain that I bombed the other interviews. There was one moment when I was asked a question and I literally looked the woman in the eye and said, "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?". I'm fairly certain she put a big black X on her paper. But, with a contract in my hands, I had two days to explore Bangkok. I was still concerned about the congestion in my sinuses, but I was trying not to worry too much about the journey home. My dear friend Olivia and I explored Bangkok, heading to parts of the town she had not yet seen, visiting the lucky Buddha, eating delicious Thai ice cream, walking through the zoo, and getting a bit of a sunburn while doing so. It was a perfectly delicious time, and I was so grateful to unwind after the stress of it all.
The question that remains is... was it worth it? Absolutely. Hindsight is always 20/20, or so they say. Matt and I have both signed contracts in the same country for the upcoming school year in Tanzania. We are excited about the prospect of living in Africa with Emily and Zachary and are looking forward to a new adventure as a family. I guess the saying holds true for this situation: What doesn't kill you will make you stronger. It will most certainly make me triple check my plane tickets, especially when transiting through unknown lands.
I found a spot to have some dinner, looking for something other than fast food. Then I went to line up at the ticketing agent, trying to be first in line for check-in. Even though it was still over an hour until the check-in would be open, I was not the first to arrive. There were several others in line, so I joined their ranks and pulled out my book. When the agents arrived and I stepped up to the counter, I was so relieved! The ticketing agent asked if I had any luggage to check, and I let her know that it had been checked through from Vancouver to Bangkok, and that I just needed a boarding pass. She asked for my confirmation number, which I promptly showed her. As she picked up her phone and began speaking to someone very quickly in Chinese, my heart began to race. I waited patiently for her to address me and, when she finally did, she asked if I had changed my reservation. I calmly explained the situation to her, telling her how I had originally been scheduled to take a connecting flight within China but had realized that I needed a visa to do so (which I didn't have) and so the Air Canada agent had kindly changed my ticket for me less than a week before (for a fee, of course). She looked up at me with sympathetic eyes and said, "I'm sorry, but the agent only rebooked the ticket. It was never reissued, so you don't actually have a ticket". I looked at her unbelieving and said that there must be something we could do about it. She apologized again, saying that there actually wasn't anything she could do. I immediately asked to speak to her supervisor who came over and quickly washed his hands of it, saying that it was an Air Canada issue and not theirs. He directed me to a counter several rows away where the Air Canada agents were checking in their passengers and said that I should go and speak to someone there.
As I walked away, dumbfounded, I felt the tears start to roll down my cheeks. I saw myself in China, more than twenty-four hours later, being arrested for not having a visa and being thrown into prison. Amazing how the worst case scenario always passes before my eyes! I tried to gather my wits together as I walked towards the Air Canada desk. When I got there, the line of people waiting to check in snaked around and I knew that I didn't have either the time or the energy to deal with that, so I marched up to the nearest agent and told them I had an emergency situation that needed their immediate attention. My tears must have given them quite a scare, because they ushered me through, past the line-up, and brought me straight to the counter. I blurted out my predicament, as best as I could between sobs, and the man had pity on me. He explained that there was nothing he himself could do, but that it was an issue for Aeroplan Canada and he would try to contact them immediately. He picked up his phone and dialed, passing the receiver to me. I listened as a woman's voice told me the hours of operation, asking me to call back during regular office hours. I tried to reason with him, explaining that I was stranded in China without a visa, crying harder and harder as I tried to get his help. He apologized that there was nothing he could do, unless I wanted to buy another ticket. Buy another ticket? Perfect! I looked up with hope in my eyes and said that would be perfect, knowing that I had a good case for Aeroplan to reimburse me when I got back to Canada. I would have to buy the ticket from Thai Airways, he explained, and so I headed back to the Thai Airways desk with a small glimmer of hope in my soul.
Thai Airways confirmed that there was still availability on their flight, and that they could get my baggage on the flight with no problem at all. It wasn't cheap, though, and I wanted to be sure that this was the right move. So... I went over to the phone to try and use my credit card to phone Matt in the middle of the night back home in Pender Harbour. To my credit, I did cringe while dialing, knowing that I would be waking him from a deep sleep, and that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for worrying about me all alone in China (or at least I hoped he would be worrying!)... but the credit card wouldn't work anyway. So, I carried the laptop to a free WiFi zone in the airport, after entering my passport details for the Chinese government to be granted permission to USE the "free" WiFi, and I attempted to open Skype. Of course not. Forbidden application, apparently. I was beginning to panic. Back I went to the Thai Airways desk, having decided to complete the transaction. I handed over my credit card, and the look on the agents face said it all. "Oh, I'm sorry, but our machines don't accept chip cards. Do you have cash?" I couldn't believe my bad luck! I pulled out my Mastercard, but it is also a chip card. I only had about one hundred USD in cash, so that wouldn't do... so I went over to the bank machine to withdraw cash. Nope. Of course not. No way CIBC was going to cooperate in my moment of crisis. The tears started to pour down my cheeks again, and I went back to the counter to see if there was ANYthing they might be able to do for me.
By this time, one of the agents actually took pity on me. She came out from behind the counter and asked me to come with her, telling me she had a plan to help me. She told me that Air China had a flight to Bangkok and that they were able to accept chip cards, if she wasn't mistaken. She led me to the Air China counter and, sure enough, they would be able to accept my credit card. They also had space on their flight, leaving at almost the same time, and were willing to sell me the ticket. The good news was that their ticket was cheaper, but the bad news was that I would now have to find my luggage and recheck it in the little time I had before the flight was scheduled to depart. I realized that I would need to do this before paying for the ticket. I had about an hour... I was now hyperventilating with worry. Picture a tall, white foreigner in the middle of a Chinese airport sliding to the group in front of the check-in counter to pull out her inhaler and deal with a stress-induced asthma attack. Yes folks, I was stressing out. A couple puffs on the inhaler helped me back onto my feet and off I went to the baggage claims area, friendly Thai Airways woman at my side to explain my predicament to the agent downstairs. The two women exchanged dialogue and then the agent made a phone call and came back with good news. My bag had been located and they would be sending it up shortly. The woman from Thai Airways told me not to worry and said that she should get back upstairs.
She was the first person to show kindness to me that day and so, despite the obvious taboo involved, I leaned down and embraced her. I pulled away and apologized, saying that this was how I would say thank-you to someone in Canada who had been as kind as she had been to me. A shy smile crept across her face, and she turned and left me there.
As the minutes ticked by, my stress level began to rise once again. I was under a deadline, and I still hadn't spoken with Matthew to tell him what was going on. The tears started to fall again. This time the other woman asked if there was anything she could do to help. I told her that I would feel so much better if I could just speak with my husband back home in Canada. I told her about the various roadblocks to speaking with him and she offered for me to use her line. I was so relieved! I told her the number and soon heard his groggy voice on the other end of the line. He was indeed awoken from a deep sleep, but he quickly sobered up when I explained what had happened. He tried to calm me down and assured me that he would be on the phone to Aeroplan to try and sort things out as soon as their office opened the next day. When we got back to the baggage claims office, my bag had arrived. I hugged this small woman as well (hey, why not?) and quickly headed back up the stairs to the Air China desk to purchase my ticket, check in, make my way through customs, find my gate and board the plane. I made it just in time.
As I settled into my tight little economy class seat, I could feel the stress moving from my lungs into my sinuses. That, combined with the recirculated air on the six hour flight to Bangkok gave me a wicked sinus infection as a sort of "welcome to Thailand" present. Fantastic. Nothing a little antibiotics won't fix though. I arrived in the middle of the night at Olivia and Jean Noel's house and crawled into bed. The next morning, Olivia and I wandered around town a bit, got our nails done, and I tried to think happy thoughts to get rid of my sinus headache, but it was to no avail. I caught a taxi to the nearest clinic and was in and out of there in record time (half an hour if you can believe it) with an army of medications in my hands to fight my infection. Just in time for me to hit the sack again and prepare myself for the full day of interviews that I would have the next day.
The story only gets better from here (how can it get any worse, right?), and I am happy to say that I somehow pulled through. I managed to make a good impression on the school I was most interested in and signed a contract with them on the morning of the second day of the job fair. I am fairly certain that I bombed the other interviews. There was one moment when I was asked a question and I literally looked the woman in the eye and said, "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?". I'm fairly certain she put a big black X on her paper. But, with a contract in my hands, I had two days to explore Bangkok. I was still concerned about the congestion in my sinuses, but I was trying not to worry too much about the journey home. My dear friend Olivia and I explored Bangkok, heading to parts of the town she had not yet seen, visiting the lucky Buddha, eating delicious Thai ice cream, walking through the zoo, and getting a bit of a sunburn while doing so. It was a perfectly delicious time, and I was so grateful to unwind after the stress of it all.
The question that remains is... was it worth it? Absolutely. Hindsight is always 20/20, or so they say. Matt and I have both signed contracts in the same country for the upcoming school year in Tanzania. We are excited about the prospect of living in Africa with Emily and Zachary and are looking forward to a new adventure as a family. I guess the saying holds true for this situation: What doesn't kill you will make you stronger. It will most certainly make me triple check my plane tickets, especially when transiting through unknown lands.
The Journey, Part 1
The travel aspect of life abroad is often one of the most stressful ones. Granted, there is often much excitement and joy surrounding the journey as well; anticipation at what one will find waiting for you on the other end. So it was that I set out in January for Thailand, to attend a teaching job fair in Bangkok. I would be traveling alone, which was an exciting change for me, and staying with good friends upon my arrival there.
This was a trip like no other... I was not going to enjoy the sunshine and the sandy beaches of Phuket or Ko Lanta this time. I was merely going to try and secure a job for what I hoped would be our next post overseas. I was filled with uncertainty and nervous about the interviews that lay ahead.
The trip started out smoothly, and I breezed through the check-in at YVR, only lacking a boarding pass for my connecting flight in Beijing, but the Air Canada attendant assured me that I would get this in China with no difficulty. I laid back in my extra small economy seat on the co-chair Air China flight and tried to get comfortable (to no avail). I have forever been spoiled by the few business class flights that I have been privileged enough to take, and the leg room in economy only seems to grow smaller and smaller. Perhaps the plane was designed for a smaller sized individual, but there was almost no leg room on the flight, to the point where my knees were dented from the seat in front. I kindly asked the woman in front of me to let me know before she put her seat back, if she wouldn't mind. She was obliging, much to my relief. The only saving grace was having a window seat... this way I could try and curl up somehow to get a bit of sleep against the side of the plane.
I made it through the flight and landed in China safely. Upon exiting the plane, I followed the crowds towards immigration, knowing that I needed to find a transfer desk to get my boarding pass for the connecting flight to Bangkok. I spotted it and made my way towards the kiosk where there was a polite sign on top of the desk informing me that no one would be arriving for at least two hours. It was 6am, and an attendant would not be arriving until 8am... I took this to mean that it could be 8:30 or 9am if I were lucky. My exhausted body began to tense and I felt a sudden urge to cry. I looked around for somewhere to sit, to wait, to sleep, but this was a very stark, cold airport with only a janitor sweeping the hallways. They were spotless, however, so I decided they would have to do. I made my way to the closest wall and sat down with my things. I was soon joined by two other travelers in the same predicament, and so we passed the time talking about our travels and adventures. Travelers are great that way... no shyness going on there!
When an attendant finally arrived, we politely argued over who should be the first to speak with someone, based on the urgency of each traveler's situation, and then we stood up and formed a queue. When I made it up to the counter, the expressionless agent behind the counter asked me for my passport. I handed it over and explained that I needed to get a boarding pass for my next flight. He replied in monotone that I would need to go through customs. I explained that I did not wish to enter China, but that I wanted to stay in the airport and get on my next flight. He yelled at me to go to the customs counter and motioned for the next person in line. Shocked, I turned to find the next line that I was expected to join and saw that it was weaving and winding its way around the waiting room, and was at least 200 people long. The sympathetic glances from my fellow travelers in despair brought the urge to cry up into my throat again, but I pushed it back down. I put my bag on my back and walked resolutely over to the long line of people.
An hour or so later, when I finally reached the agent at the front of the line, I once again handed over my passport and took a deep breath. She closed it and handed it back to me, motioning that I should join a different line to her left that read "Diplomats and Aid Workers". I insisted that I was not an aid worker or a diplomat, and that I had been told to join her line by an agent at the transfer desk. Again, I was given the monotone response that I was dreading and felt myself being pushed aside by the next person in line. I felt an overwhelming feeling of dread... but I walked to the indicated line and waited for my turn. There were several of us at this point, faces that I recognized from my flight over three and a half hours before, who were all waiting in this line. None of us knew why we were there, and all of us were certain that we did not meet the criteria on the sign that asked for diplomats and aid workers. We all waited, however, and we all eventually received a 24 hour visa for China.
This is how I took my first steps into China, a country where not even my husband Matt had been (and his list of countries is a lot longer than my own). I was nervous, yet excited, and relieved to see a Starbucks down the hall in front of me. I changed some USD into Yuan and headed over to get my skinny vanilla latte and sit down for a few minutes in a comfortable chair.
Armed with caffeine and a bit of energy, I decided to go and find the check-in desk for Thai Airways, where I was to get my boarding pass. The signs above the assigned desks indicated that the check-in agents would not arrive until two hours before the flight. Typical. Okay, so I had at least seven hours to kill. Well, I might as well explore Beijing a bit, right? So, I bought a subway ticket and decided to take a very direct route to an area that the woman behind the information desk told me had some good shopping. Why not? It would give me a chance to stretch my legs and get a bit of fresh air. Off I went... to be continued...
This was a trip like no other... I was not going to enjoy the sunshine and the sandy beaches of Phuket or Ko Lanta this time. I was merely going to try and secure a job for what I hoped would be our next post overseas. I was filled with uncertainty and nervous about the interviews that lay ahead.
The trip started out smoothly, and I breezed through the check-in at YVR, only lacking a boarding pass for my connecting flight in Beijing, but the Air Canada attendant assured me that I would get this in China with no difficulty. I laid back in my extra small economy seat on the co-chair Air China flight and tried to get comfortable (to no avail). I have forever been spoiled by the few business class flights that I have been privileged enough to take, and the leg room in economy only seems to grow smaller and smaller. Perhaps the plane was designed for a smaller sized individual, but there was almost no leg room on the flight, to the point where my knees were dented from the seat in front. I kindly asked the woman in front of me to let me know before she put her seat back, if she wouldn't mind. She was obliging, much to my relief. The only saving grace was having a window seat... this way I could try and curl up somehow to get a bit of sleep against the side of the plane.
I made it through the flight and landed in China safely. Upon exiting the plane, I followed the crowds towards immigration, knowing that I needed to find a transfer desk to get my boarding pass for the connecting flight to Bangkok. I spotted it and made my way towards the kiosk where there was a polite sign on top of the desk informing me that no one would be arriving for at least two hours. It was 6am, and an attendant would not be arriving until 8am... I took this to mean that it could be 8:30 or 9am if I were lucky. My exhausted body began to tense and I felt a sudden urge to cry. I looked around for somewhere to sit, to wait, to sleep, but this was a very stark, cold airport with only a janitor sweeping the hallways. They were spotless, however, so I decided they would have to do. I made my way to the closest wall and sat down with my things. I was soon joined by two other travelers in the same predicament, and so we passed the time talking about our travels and adventures. Travelers are great that way... no shyness going on there!
When an attendant finally arrived, we politely argued over who should be the first to speak with someone, based on the urgency of each traveler's situation, and then we stood up and formed a queue. When I made it up to the counter, the expressionless agent behind the counter asked me for my passport. I handed it over and explained that I needed to get a boarding pass for my next flight. He replied in monotone that I would need to go through customs. I explained that I did not wish to enter China, but that I wanted to stay in the airport and get on my next flight. He yelled at me to go to the customs counter and motioned for the next person in line. Shocked, I turned to find the next line that I was expected to join and saw that it was weaving and winding its way around the waiting room, and was at least 200 people long. The sympathetic glances from my fellow travelers in despair brought the urge to cry up into my throat again, but I pushed it back down. I put my bag on my back and walked resolutely over to the long line of people.
An hour or so later, when I finally reached the agent at the front of the line, I once again handed over my passport and took a deep breath. She closed it and handed it back to me, motioning that I should join a different line to her left that read "Diplomats and Aid Workers". I insisted that I was not an aid worker or a diplomat, and that I had been told to join her line by an agent at the transfer desk. Again, I was given the monotone response that I was dreading and felt myself being pushed aside by the next person in line. I felt an overwhelming feeling of dread... but I walked to the indicated line and waited for my turn. There were several of us at this point, faces that I recognized from my flight over three and a half hours before, who were all waiting in this line. None of us knew why we were there, and all of us were certain that we did not meet the criteria on the sign that asked for diplomats and aid workers. We all waited, however, and we all eventually received a 24 hour visa for China.
This is how I took my first steps into China, a country where not even my husband Matt had been (and his list of countries is a lot longer than my own). I was nervous, yet excited, and relieved to see a Starbucks down the hall in front of me. I changed some USD into Yuan and headed over to get my skinny vanilla latte and sit down for a few minutes in a comfortable chair.
Armed with caffeine and a bit of energy, I decided to go and find the check-in desk for Thai Airways, where I was to get my boarding pass. The signs above the assigned desks indicated that the check-in agents would not arrive until two hours before the flight. Typical. Okay, so I had at least seven hours to kill. Well, I might as well explore Beijing a bit, right? So, I bought a subway ticket and decided to take a very direct route to an area that the woman behind the information desk told me had some good shopping. Why not? It would give me a chance to stretch my legs and get a bit of fresh air. Off I went... to be continued...
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
It's Official
So, after much thoughtful consideration, I decided to change the name of my blog to something a bit more upbeat and true to my life and what I do. Hope the new name sits well with all of you.
Thanks for your thoughts!
More to follow soon...
Monday, November 15, 2010
Aside
I was speaking with a woman the other day about this blog... we hardly know each other and yet we began to talk about our lives, about our children, etc. She shared a bit about her daughter and her dreams to travel and work overseas... I began to tell her a bit more about my life and the adventures that I have had so far in other countries. I told her a bit about this blog and she was very keen to read it. She asked for the name of it so that she could look it up online, and I told her that it was titled, "Trials of a Trailing Spouse". She gasped and said that this would never do for a name... that I had far too much "umf" to just follow someone around. I laughed then, but went home thinking about it... maybe it's time to give this blog a new name.
So, I am putting it out there to see what people think.
New name? Or leave it as it is?
So, I am putting it out there to see what people think.
New name? Or leave it as it is?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Getting out there
My long-lost cousin Steph Mags pointed out to me last weekend that I haven't written very much on this blog... she is so right, and so here I am writing. I started this past back in May, but have only now attempted to finish it. I hope to have much more time to write now that I have my new iMac. :)
I realize that I have not been very positive in this blog so far. Matthew pointed out to me that I have a lot of complaints, but that I hadn't mentioned any of the amazing aspects of this life overseas. I am setting out to remedy that with this post.
I think it is easier to focus on the negative sometimes, and it really takes strength of character to pull oneself out of negativity and focus on the positives that are always around us.
One of the things that is amazing about life overseas is the people I have met. I have made such amazing friends everywhere I have been. Usually, they are work colleagues, or spouses of Matt's colleagues. This is an obvious place to start - common ground... However, there are also those friends that I have met who are niether of these things. The bonds that I have made with these women are amazing, and continue to this day...
The experiences overseas wrap together with the friends to create unforgettable moments. I will never forget the drive to find an ancient ruin from the time of Genghis Khan with Jackie, for example. I was gripping the "holy shit" handle in the front of the UN vehicle so hard that my knuckles were turning white. I remember her commenting that I didn't seem to be enjoying the journey. What an understatement! The road to nowhere was winding out of control down the side of a mountain. Our four wheel drive Nissan Patrol did not seem to be preventing us from sliding towards the edge of the muddy path that was supposed to be a road. I was petrified and she and Matt thought it was the funniest thing in the world. To this day, we all remember that day with fondness.
Silvia and I formed an immediate bond of necessity. As the only two members of teaching staff at the Luanda International School in Angola who were not living on the school campus, we had to face a 45 minute commute every morning. I had the car, but the thought of driving on my own through the shantytowns and slums, facing traffic jams and security risks on all sides scared me to death. I was very pleased to offer her a ride every day, knowing that this would give me companionship above all else. We quickly grew to enjoy each others company, even the silence at the end of the day when we had run out of energy to talk about school. We reconnected in Edinburgh not long ago, and they she and her husband have managed to come and visit us at our home here in Canada. These are the friendships that will always last.
Jen and her girls were my lifeline in Geneva. Without them living next door, I honestly do not believe that I would have been able to make it through those first few years of Emily's life as a stay-at-home mom. I was a fish out of water, and Jen had a way of calming my nervous spirit and gently showing me different ways to do the things that I was so unsure of. Being a mother changed me forever, but it could have changed me for the worse if God had not brought her into my life. I remember the day we went to look at the house in Luins, just outside of Nyon in Switzerland. It was a small village with several vineyards, incredibly picturesque, tucked in among the rows and rows of grapes. As we walked around to the garden behind the house, I saw her getting out of her car. I whispered to Matthew, "she has a baby!". This was great news for me. Even better, though, was the look of astonishment as I watched her pull out not one but two little babes. When she smiled and said hello in perfect American English, I think I nearly died of happiness. I turned and said, "This will do just fine!". I must have seemed like a bit of a freak at the time, now that I think of it. Good thing she didn't mind though. Those days will be with me forever.
There were others who found their way into my heart... Avronne was, in the words of Anne of Green Gables, my bosom friend. I went to her with my deepest sorrows and joys and we supported each other in ways that no one else ever could have. I thank God for bringing her into my world.
Alison was my sanity at school. The two of us quickly joined forces when we realized that we were from the same southern-Ontario-hardworking-Canadian-teacher gene pool. Many fun weekends were had at the chalet near Mont Blanc, and I look forward to having our paths cross again in the future.
There are groups of women in many these places that have really touched my soul... Kyrgyzstan saw Monica, Jacky and the gang surrounding me with support and love, even when they were sent home as "non-essential personnel" and I was left to wonder what the UN would have me do while Matt was in Pakistan after September 11th. Geneva brought together an amazing group of expat women, all new mothers, all unsure of ourselves and finding our footing in a strange land. It was an amazing network of people, and we met regularly to support one another. Colombia evolved over time to produce perhaps the strongest, most amazing group of friends that I have formed overseas. It will be hard to have a glass of wine on my own ever again, and I will never forget you. Not ever.
Not to be forgotten are the die-hard friends and family who remain at home and deal with our coming and going on a regular basis. These amazing people are the foundation of our lives, and they ground us to our home. I was a bit worried about coming home, and about how I would fit back into the world that they have here, but it has been anything but unnatural. They are always there, always loving and always understanding. Amazing to think about it, actually... I have missed so many important events in the lives of these friends and family members and yet they welcome me with open arms. They have shown me what it means to have unconditional love, and this is something that I carry with me no matter where I go or what I do.
As summer days turn to fall, and we settle into a routine of "normalcy" here at our home in Canada, I am struck by the sense of loss I feel at not having the same sort of community that I am able to find overseas. Sure, there are great people here... there are several women who I have known for years already, and with whom I enjoy talking and having a coffee. The bond is different somehow, though. There isn't a sense of urgency at getting to know each other... they have their life here, and I am just something new to add to the equation. It isn't the same when everyone is from somewhere else and we all seek companionship, and someone to share a glass of wine with. So much so, that we would drive halfway across town to do so! It takes half an hour to get around this town's twists and turns in order to reach the other side, and I don't know one person who would actually get in their car and do the drive.
It is mid October, and we are being forced to think about next year already... and as we look at the lists of posts and consider the options in front of us, I can't help but think about the women that I will meet, and the friends that I will make in the years to come. Now all that is left for me to do is to focus on the lives that have been forever linked to mine, and remind these friends how much they mean to me.
I realize that I have not been very positive in this blog so far. Matthew pointed out to me that I have a lot of complaints, but that I hadn't mentioned any of the amazing aspects of this life overseas. I am setting out to remedy that with this post.
I think it is easier to focus on the negative sometimes, and it really takes strength of character to pull oneself out of negativity and focus on the positives that are always around us.
One of the things that is amazing about life overseas is the people I have met. I have made such amazing friends everywhere I have been. Usually, they are work colleagues, or spouses of Matt's colleagues. This is an obvious place to start - common ground... However, there are also those friends that I have met who are niether of these things. The bonds that I have made with these women are amazing, and continue to this day...
The experiences overseas wrap together with the friends to create unforgettable moments. I will never forget the drive to find an ancient ruin from the time of Genghis Khan with Jackie, for example. I was gripping the "holy shit" handle in the front of the UN vehicle so hard that my knuckles were turning white. I remember her commenting that I didn't seem to be enjoying the journey. What an understatement! The road to nowhere was winding out of control down the side of a mountain. Our four wheel drive Nissan Patrol did not seem to be preventing us from sliding towards the edge of the muddy path that was supposed to be a road. I was petrified and she and Matt thought it was the funniest thing in the world. To this day, we all remember that day with fondness.
Silvia and I formed an immediate bond of necessity. As the only two members of teaching staff at the Luanda International School in Angola who were not living on the school campus, we had to face a 45 minute commute every morning. I had the car, but the thought of driving on my own through the shantytowns and slums, facing traffic jams and security risks on all sides scared me to death. I was very pleased to offer her a ride every day, knowing that this would give me companionship above all else. We quickly grew to enjoy each others company, even the silence at the end of the day when we had run out of energy to talk about school. We reconnected in Edinburgh not long ago, and they she and her husband have managed to come and visit us at our home here in Canada. These are the friendships that will always last.
Jen and her girls were my lifeline in Geneva. Without them living next door, I honestly do not believe that I would have been able to make it through those first few years of Emily's life as a stay-at-home mom. I was a fish out of water, and Jen had a way of calming my nervous spirit and gently showing me different ways to do the things that I was so unsure of. Being a mother changed me forever, but it could have changed me for the worse if God had not brought her into my life. I remember the day we went to look at the house in Luins, just outside of Nyon in Switzerland. It was a small village with several vineyards, incredibly picturesque, tucked in among the rows and rows of grapes. As we walked around to the garden behind the house, I saw her getting out of her car. I whispered to Matthew, "she has a baby!". This was great news for me. Even better, though, was the look of astonishment as I watched her pull out not one but two little babes. When she smiled and said hello in perfect American English, I think I nearly died of happiness. I turned and said, "This will do just fine!". I must have seemed like a bit of a freak at the time, now that I think of it. Good thing she didn't mind though. Those days will be with me forever.
There were others who found their way into my heart... Avronne was, in the words of Anne of Green Gables, my bosom friend. I went to her with my deepest sorrows and joys and we supported each other in ways that no one else ever could have. I thank God for bringing her into my world.
Alison was my sanity at school. The two of us quickly joined forces when we realized that we were from the same southern-Ontario-hardworking-Canadian-teacher gene pool. Many fun weekends were had at the chalet near Mont Blanc, and I look forward to having our paths cross again in the future.
There are groups of women in many these places that have really touched my soul... Kyrgyzstan saw Monica, Jacky and the gang surrounding me with support and love, even when they were sent home as "non-essential personnel" and I was left to wonder what the UN would have me do while Matt was in Pakistan after September 11th. Geneva brought together an amazing group of expat women, all new mothers, all unsure of ourselves and finding our footing in a strange land. It was an amazing network of people, and we met regularly to support one another. Colombia evolved over time to produce perhaps the strongest, most amazing group of friends that I have formed overseas. It will be hard to have a glass of wine on my own ever again, and I will never forget you. Not ever.
Not to be forgotten are the die-hard friends and family who remain at home and deal with our coming and going on a regular basis. These amazing people are the foundation of our lives, and they ground us to our home. I was a bit worried about coming home, and about how I would fit back into the world that they have here, but it has been anything but unnatural. They are always there, always loving and always understanding. Amazing to think about it, actually... I have missed so many important events in the lives of these friends and family members and yet they welcome me with open arms. They have shown me what it means to have unconditional love, and this is something that I carry with me no matter where I go or what I do.
As summer days turn to fall, and we settle into a routine of "normalcy" here at our home in Canada, I am struck by the sense of loss I feel at not having the same sort of community that I am able to find overseas. Sure, there are great people here... there are several women who I have known for years already, and with whom I enjoy talking and having a coffee. The bond is different somehow, though. There isn't a sense of urgency at getting to know each other... they have their life here, and I am just something new to add to the equation. It isn't the same when everyone is from somewhere else and we all seek companionship, and someone to share a glass of wine with. So much so, that we would drive halfway across town to do so! It takes half an hour to get around this town's twists and turns in order to reach the other side, and I don't know one person who would actually get in their car and do the drive.
It is mid October, and we are being forced to think about next year already... and as we look at the lists of posts and consider the options in front of us, I can't help but think about the women that I will meet, and the friends that I will make in the years to come. Now all that is left for me to do is to focus on the lives that have been forever linked to mine, and remind these friends how much they mean to me.
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