There are times when not a lot is going on in life, so you take a rather unintentional writing hiatus until something blogworthy happens. And then there are times when something riveting happens every 10 minutes, and you’re so overwhelmed by the interestingness of it all that your fingers freeze – you don’t write at all. That’s how I’ve felt the past few days.

Right now our windows are open and we can hear some powers-that-be at the elementary school make announcements. By the tone of his voice, you’d think he was preaching political or religious propaganda, but we’ve been told he’s simply making announcements. So imagine the tone of perhaps those old recorded Hitler speeches, and then imagine it translated as “For today’s lunch we’ll be having roast beef au jus, tater tots, and green bean casserole!!! And don’t forget to have your parents sign the field trip permission slip!!!” That’s how we imagine it, anyway. The national anthem just started over the PA system, so we ran over and looked out the window – all the pedestrians on the street have frozen, seemingly out of reverence. It ended, and everyone continued on their way. A cool sight.

Yesterday I gathered with a few international moms and their babies and toddlers – I suppose you could call it a playgroup of sorts. Chickpea and I represented the U.S.; the rest were from New Zealand, Russia, Venezuela, Germany, Turkey, Brazil, and a Nigerian popped in briefly. The common language was thankfully English. It was great fun to chit-chat about homemade baby food, nap times, sibling rivalry, and speaking your mother tongue at home exclusively – I guess some parenting issues are universal. A playgroup is scheduled for this Wednesday, and even though it’s a 45-minute bus ride away, I think we’ll try to go. Chickpea and I are both a little parched for some social interaction.

Speaking of Chickpea, on Saturday she slammed chin-first into the coffee table while perched on a dining room chair to video Skype with my parents (she’s pretty tech-savvy for a two-year-old). It was quite the doozy, and for the first time in her life, I wish she had her paci in her mouth, because that would have guarded her teeth and gums. There was quite a bit of blood, and now there’s a swollen purple bruise on her chin. She’s doing just fine now – she doesn’t even remember it’s there unless she’s reminded. I think it’s one of those looks-worse-than-it-is things.

She still asks for Nellie and Holden, Mallory, Josh, Ari, and countless others at least every 24 hours. At her age, she doesn’t even realize she’s in a different country, not to mention the fact that she doesn’t even know what a country is. All she knows is that she doesn’t see anybody she normally does, and everyone around her babbles incomprehensibly (come to think of it, that’s about how we feel right now).

Friday night she pulled up her stepstool to the window, looked out at the view, and said, “Bye bye.” I walked over to her. “You want to go bye-bye?” “Yes,” she quietly replied. At that moment I felt the same way, too, so I just wrapped my arms around her, let my tears flow, and we enjoyed the view of our new city. It still feels like we’re visitors, and I suppose it will feel like that for some time. I don’t want her to forget those names she regularly mentions. It’s hard to let go right now. We’re glad to be here, but we’re still grieving.

posted: 07 March 26
under: culture