Five more days in New Delhi!
Here’s the weather forecast for our last week of school:
And then we’re off to Michigan for our summer break.
Here’s the weather forecast for our first week in the States:
The low temps in Delhi are higher than the high temps in Michigan.
Does anyone have a parka and some woolen socks I can borrow?
Our special friends Scott, Amy and Blake Hossack made their second annual pilgrimage from Canada to Lake Orion today. We taught with them in Shanghai and love them to bits. When my mom and sister visited us in Shanghai, they also got to know the fabulous Hossack family, so they joined us for a little lakeside reunion.
The Hossacks came to Michigan last summer and spent Christmas with us in Laos, so we had planned to return the favor before leaving for New Delhi. Unfortunately, I still don’t have my passport back from the Indian consulate, which means I can’t cross the border into Canada. Drat!
Despite the heat advisory, we did the usual stuff: fed the fish, waded in the lake, floated around on the raft, and took the paddle boat out for a spin. Such a nice day with such wonderful people!
The boys head out on the paddle boat.
Kate and the kids throw bread to the fish and try to attract some ducks.
Cooling off with freezy pops.
Blake and Paul play basketball with the fishnet.
Group hug!
Tony falls asleep while watching a show with Blake.
My little nephews love to swim – at my parents’ pool or at our lake. Nico wears his swim mask in and out of the water. And Paul, who will be 3 in September, has started tossing off his floaties to get serious in the water. Summer vacation … ahhhhh!
Kate made a surprise appearance modeling our mom’s water aerobics gear.
Boys and their toys.
Playing “catch” with Nico as the ball.
Paul hitches a ride.
Britt enjoys a moment of serenity.
Nico loves his mask!
Paddle boats … are … stupid.
I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel about them. Sure, they look like lots of fun. But then you pedal your little legs off out to the middle of the lake and then realize, oh right, you have to pedal BACK TO LAND. But your calves have turned to jell-o and you are about to have a heat stroke and a speedboat just zipped by creating a wake that nearly overturned your lame boat, and now no matter how hard you pedal you just catch air ’cause your boat is still getting whipped around by the waves and the paddle is more often than not NOT in the water.
So imagine my surprise when I returned to America this summer to find my mother had bought – you guessed it – a paddle boat!
Our home’s former owner, Janelle, visited last night and howled with nostalgia over the paddle boat. “Oh my Gawwwwd! We used to have so much fun in our paddle boat!” she screamed. “We’d paddle out with a few beers, me and my girlfriend, and then we’d get stuck out there and have to get towed back. And then they’d tow us too fast and we’d start to go under! It was greeeeeeaaat!”
I’m sure that was rad back in the early 80s, but it’s not the same when you’re no longer 16.
However, being the open-minded person that I am, I allowed my sisters (paddle boat defenders) to take me out for a little cruise. Beer-in-hand, I rode in back with Nico. I’m not too proud to say it was a splashin’ good time.
The nephews get excited at the prospect of a paddle boat ride.
Big strong John dumps the boat into the lake.
A swan family laughs at us.
The crew prepares to launch.
We have a little trouble getting out to sea.
Our lightning-esque speed made it tough for John to catch this shot.
How can you NOT like a boat that makes this boy so happy?
Michigan may struggle to get its economy back on track, but this state should take pride in its fantastic parks and trail systems. I can ride my bike from our lake house to my mom’s house (30 minutes by car or an hour on beautiful wooded bike trails), or I can hit the trails to reach almost any other town in the state (not that I HAVE, but I COULD). The parks are clean with plenty of picnic tables, toilets, shade, well-maintained playgrounds and – more often than not – a body of water. What a perfect way to spend a morning with my little guys!
Paul gives me a tour of the playground at Rochester Park.
Swingin’.
Counting ducks.
Paul mostly threw rocks into the water or splashed.
Nico built a big canal system with dams, bridges, and lakes.
This squirrel got a little too close for comfort. I was having PTSD flashbacks to my youth, when a squirrel bit my hand when I fed it some sunflower seeds.
Picnic!
We kicked the soccer ball around for awhile, and I taught Nico the concept of kicking the ball into the goal. (I know, you’re laughing at the idea of me kicking a ball and/or teaching anyone anything about any sport. Go ahead, enjoy it. I understand.) Mostly, I taught him about the theatrics AFTER you make a goal. Eventually, Katy kicked the ball into the creek, and despite chasing it downstream with Paul’s walking stick for awhile, she lost both the ball and the stick. Paul, who struggles to pronounce consonant blends, said, “Hey, where’s my DICK?!”
We had so much fun that we did it again a few days later when our other sister Megan arrived. This time, we picked a different spot at Paint Creek. The boys did a lot of digging.
Meg and Nico looked for tiny shells and fossils.
Potty break. Did I mention the park has a wonderful, clean bathroom? Nico couldn’t be bothered.
Paul and I threw a lot of rocks.
We took turns playing “football,” which really meant throwing the ball and then racing to get it, except when the boys changed the rules to be a standard game of chase.
I haven’t crossed the threshold of a public library in about 10 years. School libraries, sure, but public libraries? They didn’t exist in Istanbul, Shanghai or Vientiane, and I usually borrowed books from friends for summer reading (and eventually bought a kindle). So when rain prevented us from playing in the lake, my sister Kate and I took her boys to the Lake Orion Library. And it was awesome. AWESOME!
Nico and Paul played with the train.
They staged a puppet show.
They checked out the fish.
They goofed around in the big canoe.
And they checked out a bunch of books.
Did you know you can check out up to 100 books? ONE HUNDRED BOOKS!! I helped the boys find some of my favorites: Pete the Cat, That’s Good That’s Bad, Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, Animalia, Fish is Fish, Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, and many more! And we read them over and over at my house.
I think I may even check out grown-up books while I’m here.
As the president, secretary and – ok, in the interest of full disclosure – the ONLY member of the Grass is Always Greener Club, I hereby call this meeting to order.
First, we will review the minutes from our June 13 meeting.
Location: Vientiane, Laos
In Attendance: Me
Agenda:
(1) Bitch about Laos.
* For the last 4 (FOUR!) Sundays we haven’t had electricity at our house. While we can count on power-free Sundays, we’ve found Saturdays to be more of a mystery. Sometimes we have power; sometimes not. In case you haven’t heard, our shippers are coming in a week to pack up our house for the move to India. Electricity sure would be useful right now. We’re not just talking about lights. We’re talking about air conditioning (it’s sweltering in this house-cum-sauna), the water pump (can’t flush the toilets!), and the fridge (can’t keep any food over the weekend).
* The school is making us pay back about $1,200 they gave us to attend professional development classes this year. Never mind that Tony was REQUIRED to attend his class and that I offered FOUR staff workshops to share my learning. I think they got their money’s worth. But apparently they didn’t think so. Not cool.
* Rain. Rain. Rain. Seriously? More rain?
(2) Look forward to getting back to the U.S.
* Michigan 4-berry pie
* Nephews
* Clothes dryer and a dishwasher
* Good wine
* Semi-retired dad and entertaining mom
* Pool and lake
* Wooded bike trails
* Fourth of July
* Electricity!
* the Apple Store
* and so on and so on, ad infinitum.
And now let’s review the minutes from our June 24 meeting.
Location: Lake Orion, Michigan, USA
In attendance: Me
Agenda:
(1) Wax nostalgic about Laos
* After eating a foot-long banana that tasted like a banana-scented sports sock, I found myself wistfully longing for Lao fruit. Those tiny bananas were packed with rich sweetness, and the juicy rambutans with their wacky spiky red jackets were in season when we left. Our mango tree underproduced this spring, but the ladies at the market just outside my gate were happy to oblige. Right up until my last days in Laos, I was discovering fruit I had never sampled before. Although all dragonfruit has fuchsia skin, did you know some have equally hot pink fruit? I only just learned that! Some kindergarten kids showed me a marble-sized fruit that I hadn’t yet tried, but they didn’t know the English word for it, and I never did figure it out. Despite my tendency to take all good things for granted, I do believe that I fully appreciated the fruit in Laos to the point of boring the pants off anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby when I bought/ate/thought about it.
* My Lao friends at school gave me the most heartfelt going-away gift: a photo album with funny little poems, stories and memories from our time together. When they presented it to me on the second-to-the-last day of school, I had a serious emotional meltdown. In this international teaching world, we often cross paths with our expat friends again and again, but the local staff generally stays put. Unless I visit Laos, I’m unlikely to see them again. And they really are some of the kindest, cleverest, funniest, most selfless people I’ve met. I miss them already.
* For two years, my Chinese knock-off Giant bicycle served me well as both my sole method of transportation and my main form of exercise. While rainy seasons literally put a damper on my cycling pursuits, and hot seasons forced me to carry a change of clothes for the 5-minute ride to school, I learned a great deal about myself and my host country while pedaling along the Mekong, around the dusty roads of Vientiane, and through the villages with Team Dai on our three-day trip to Phonsavanh.
(2) Rag on America
* After reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, I had every intention of being a “locavore” this summer. I wanted to eat only food produced in Michigan, especially closer to home. But that’s easier said than done! At our local grocery store, the strawberries were trucked in from California and the blueberries made the trek from North Carolina. All of the salad fixin’s had road tripped to Lake Orion from everywhere BUT Michigan. On Wednesday, we visited the local farmer’s market, which boasted five booths. Only one sold locally grown produce. I bought some organic eggs, a couple red peppers and a few tomatoes. That took care of Thursday’s breakfast. Now what?
* I forgot how fun it is to drive! Unfortunately, road rules in America are actual RULES and not merely suggestions like they are in other parts of the world. There is easily enough room to make another lane on the highway, but god forbid someone tries to wedge her way between the regular lanes of traffic in her altruistic attempt to ease the unbearable rush-hour congestion.
* This is the land of the free, but you know what’s not free? Mobile phone service. In fact, it’s freakin’ expensive. And if you only reside in this country for five weeks out of the year, you’ll pay out the wazoo for some top-it-up disposable phone. Which is what we’re doing.
* Last August, I called AT&T and explained that we were leaving the country and wanted to disconnect our internet. No problem, they said. We’ll just switch it right back on when you get back, they said. Liars. An AT&T workman spent four hours at our house yesterday, alternately messing with the router inside, poking wires around in the outdoor utility box, and – I kid you not – hoisted up in a cherry picker to do something with the overhead lines. Sigh.
* My parents lent us their PT Cruiser for the summer, which is such a blessing (even if it triggers creepy bedroom eyes in the octogenarian crowd at the local CVS drugstore). Having a vehicle seemed like such a treat after two years of commuting by bicycle … that is, until I had to pump gas. We’ve been in the States for about five days, and we’ve put almost $90 worth of gas into that car.
Hmmm… I see a pattern here. Let’s shift gears for today’s meeting.
Location: Lake Orion, Michigan, USA (on the deck, overlooking the lake)
In attendance: Me, a few ducks and the swan family
Agenda:
(1) Express Gratitude for the Past
Every place has pros and cons. Living in a developing country and working at a school that wasn’t the best fit for us posed a new set of challenges, some of which we met successfully head-on and some of which inspired unparalleled whining until the moment we boarded the plane to leave Laos. As someone who obviously doesn’t know what I’ve got till it’s gone, I can now appreciate how much I grew and learned. Looking back over my blog posts from the last two years, I can’t believe how much I saw and did in a place where there’s really not that much to see and do. I will always have a spot in my heart for the sunshine, landscape, culture and friendships that blessed my life in Laos.
(2) Express Gratitude for the Present
After spending two years in a third-world country, I’m struck by the commercialism, materialism and waste here in the United States. At the same time, I love the ease of life that comes with all that. So while I try to leave the smallest carbon footprint possible during my month in America, I’ll treasure the comfort of being home.
This week I’m surrounded by family, including my beloved little nephews, and nothing makes me happier!
(3) Express Gratitude for the Future
On July 24, we’ll head off for a new adventure in India. We’re moving to New Delhi, where we’ll teach at the American Embassy School. I’m nervous about the pollution and congestion of a big city and the lack of diversity of our new staff, but I’m super excited about our school’s excellent reputation and the return to a curriculum and teaching methodology that jibes with my own style. Tony and I look forward to getting involved in a vibrant school community, exploring our new city, learning about the local food and culture, and traveling in India.
As of today, the Grass is Always Greener Club is hereby disbanded. I’m thinking of starting the Gratitude is the Best Attitude Club. Any joiners?
My dad has been talking about this logging museum since we got back to the States, so Sunday we loaded up the car and headed north to Hartwick Pines State Park in Grayling, MI.
The Visitor Center features an excellent display about the forest, local wildlife, logging and life in the logging camps of the 1930s.
Nico was interested in the animal pelts, including this bear.
We walked through the forest – mostly beech and maple trees – to get to the Logging Museum. Nico found a couple walking sticks, which were also handy for smacking trees and plants. Paul mostly just ran to keep up. We saw chipmunks, squirrels, lots of birds, moss, 100-year-old tree stumps and other cool stuff.
The Logging Museum comprises a collection of buildings that recreate a logging camp.
The boys did laundry 1930s-style, and then Nico found a checkers game in the bunkhouse.
My mom and I pretended we were working at the camp. We wouldn’t have lasted through the winter. The men slept three to a bunk, and the bunks were small. The snoring alone would have driven me stark raving mad. It would have been one of those urban legends about the crazy kitchen girl who murdered all the men in the middle of the night.
Mom didn’t take long to hook up with a logger.
The men used these huge wheels to transport logs to horse-drawn sleds or to the river.
It was a lot of time in the van for the boys (and the grown-ups), but we kept ourselves entertained.
Yesterday I went for a swim in the lake for the first time. I walked down the concrete steps next to our dock and then waded in up to my knees. I was in the water for maybe 8 seconds before I came splashing out in horror.
You may not know this about me, but I HATE mushy muddy lake bottoms. I always wear shoes in the lake (and the ocean, for that matter) because I cannot STAND the feeling of sludge squishing between my toes, and God only knows what those sharp edges are that poke out of the goop. Rocks? Shells? Scary sea creatures with gnashing teeth and sharp claws? Why take the risk?
The only thing freakier than smooshy mud at the bottom of the lake is smooshy mud growing crops of grabby grass that tickle your legs and wrap around your ankles.
I’m a bit disappointed to report that my lake has both: thick murky mire and a forest of foliage.
I can handle the mud. The aforementioned shoes get me in the lake, and as soon as I’m deep enough, I just start swimming. (And, seriously, that doesn’t have to be very deep. In Egypt, I once swam in water that was about 8 inches deep so I wouldn’t have to step on the sea cucumbers.)
But the lake weeds? That’s enough to strand me on land. Luckily, Tony and my dad came to the rescue. Armed with rakes, they bravely stepped down in to the inky unknown. They swooshed and scraped through the water, dumping piles of lake weeds up on the dock.
As they worked, I ripped off chunks of old hot dog buns and tossed them to the ducks until they (the boys, not the ducks) suggested I might lend a hand by bagging up the weeds.
I enlisted my mom, who was a little overdressed for the occasion in a lovely soon-to-be-mud-spattered lavender top and Chinese pearl necklace. She reluctantly held the trash bags open while I scooped in the lake debris (which included a flower planter and a few chunks of concrete, in addition to the mountains of plant life).
Dad and Tony made another pass with their rakes this afternoon and reported a much cleaner lake bottom. I hope so. I prefer my natural bodies of water to feel more like a swimming pool than a fish tank.
Since we started teaching abroad, Tony and I have spent summers mooching off friends and relatives. That’s been fun (most of the time), but we found ourselves yearning for a place to call “home.” We wanted friends and family to visit US. When my parents moved to Michigan and promised they wouldn’t move again any time soon, we decided to buy a summer home there.
Here’s Tony at Lake Orion last summer, feeling indecisive. It only took a little persuading to convince him that this place was IT!
Last summer, the house looked like this. We hired the best decorator I know – my mom! – who worked with our tenant, Don, a house painter/handyman, to give the house a much-needed facelift inside and out.
Here’s Don this week, excited to show us the finished product.
Tony and I felt like the recipients of “Ultimate Makeover – Home Edition.” We couldn’t believe this 70-something-year-old house could look so fresh and modern. They replaced the carpet with maple laminate flooring, stripped the wallpaper and painted, ripped out the bathroom vanity and replaced it, walled off a door between the two sides of the duplex, and made multiple plumbing and electrical upgrades. Here are some highlights:
After we finish paying for all this work, we’ll get my mom started on the basement! Maybe some day we’ll even be able to afford a canoe. In the meantime, we enjoy hanging out on the porch and watching the swans, ducks and herons that visit our patch of lakefront, and we’re looking forward to sharing our porch with visitors.
As much as we love exploring the world, there’s no place like home!