The Next Shipment

Our next shipment will be delivered on Thursday.  I can hardly believe our luck!  It seems a bit unreal to me that we will have our furniture, our dishes, our artwork - all of our things here in just a few days.  As I'm cooking dinner this evening, I'm getting rather giddy.

What We've Been Reading

When we lived in China, everyone was writing about China.  Bookstores were full of non-fiction, fiction, family memoirs and travel memoirs.  China was everywhere.  I've got a few shelves devoted to my books on China, and had hoped to add a few shelves of Venezuela to my library.  This may happen over the next few years, but the accumulation will be slow.  Folks have been writing their opinions on Chavez for years, but I've got no real interest in reading those.  So, we've got a few books on our shelves, but they're not demanding our attention.

What we've been reading lately are periodicals.  Since Chavez flew back in secret style, reporters swarmed the city and have taken all the rooms at the nice hotels.  Articles on Venezuela show up in the Washington Post every other day, and we keep making headlines across the world.  It would be exciting, except they have nothing to say.  Chavez has not been seen or heard from at all since his crazy arrival, and no further plans have been made.  These poor reporters are scrambling to write something now.

Still, its amusing to read their efforts, and to be reminded what a crazy country we currently live in.  Dave and I put together our budget and our travel plans, constantly reminding ourselves that whatever works now may not work in the future.  Who knows where the value of money will go, where our level of security will go, whether or not we will leave in a mad rush and need to abandon some of our things.  Exciting times!

Here's what I've been reading this morning, from The Financial Times blog.

And I will admit - the main reason I check the news every morning is to be one of the first to learn when he dies... or resumes his throne.  Whichever.

Practically Perfect

A friend just got back to Caracas from Hawaii.  She's been living here for a year and a half, and she's not very happy to return home.  Hawaii is lovely, and the reality of Caracas hit her rather harshly.  She tried not to complain, but just couldn't help it.

I felt bad for her.

Mainly because I am really not miserable.

The weather today was almost hot.  A strong sun sat in a bright blue sky, with only a light cool breeze rather than the usual lovely cool breeze.  I almost got sweaty on my walk home from the embassy in the heat of the day.  We keep our windows open all the time, generally feeling cool air movement through the entire house.

Our apartment is easily twice the size of our house is Arlington.  It has fabulous air flow (as mentioned above) and beautiful natural light in nearly every room.  I love the layout, and I only have two complaints.  Although we have great windows, we do not have our own terrace.  And although we have a great garden and a fabulous view, our 6th floor apartment means our kids don't play outside very often.  For that, I miss our house in Virginia.  Well, and for the gas stove.  For everything else, this house is pretty great.

We have hired a part-time housekeeper, and I will cautiously say that she's pretty awesome.  I don't clean the bathrooms, but still they're clean.  I don't clean the floors, but still they're clean.  I bake, and the dishes are all washed and put away as soon as I'm done.  Its awesome.

I don't have to worry about money.  We are blessed to be able to live off of one income, but that blessing included a lot of scrimping and sacrificing in Arlington.  Within the same grocery budget, I can anything and everything I want at the grocery store and still not be in the red.  That is, of course, because much of what I want is not in stock.  But its also because of a very favorable exchange rate.  And because our disposable income more than doubled when we left the states, I don't have to worry about money on anything.  I can afford to enroll my kids in after-school programs.  We can afford to eat out on the weekends.  The favorable exchange rate means that I can afford these things while I rebuild our savings.  Score!

All I really need to be happy are a few good kitchen tools (arrived last week - hooray!), stability for my kids (fabulous school - hooray!) and people to talk to on a regular basis.  The embassy community here has been warm and welcoming from the day we arrived.  I made good friends in Virginia, who I miss.  But I've made good friends quickly here in Caracas, and I feel comfortable calling someone up whenever I feel lost or alone.

So far, with the exception of Target and the English language, Caracas offers an easier life than Arlington did.  And a far easier life than China.  Surrounded by bright blue skies and warm people, I'm happy.

This is worth noting, partly because things can change quickly.  The community will turn over this summer, as will the weather.  Vamos a ver, but so far I've got no real complaints.

Delivery #1

Herein contained:  674 pounds of the items most necessary to our family's everyday life

Today is a very good day.

Presidents' Day Excitement

The concept of winter has already taken on fairytale-like qualities in my mind.  Seeing folks post on Facebook about white-out conditions and forecasts for snow overnight seem ridiculous.  This morning, I'm sitting at my dining room table wearing shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt.  The windows are open throughout the house, and a nice breeze floats through.  I'm listening to birds singing out the window.  Its a bit cloudy, which keeps the sun from beating too strong into the kitchen.  Its a beautiful day.

Dave and I enjoyed another beautiful day yesterday.  Dave may not benefit from a high salary or a long string of vacation days anymore, but he does celebrate the national holidays of both America and Venezuela.  So yesterday, although Lilly and Sophia went to school, Dave had the day off for Presidents' Day.  He and Annika and I went into the city for a bit of exploring.

We did not find what we were looking for.  We had hoped to rent a piano for our time here, and had no luck in finding the showroom.  We had also heard that Altamira, the neighborhood we expected to hold the piano shop, was a lovely neighborhood of shops and cafes.  The neighborhood is lovely, with tree-lined streets and wide sidewalks.  Its also very urban, with tall buildings popping up alongside graceful houses.  And it is not full of cafes.  It does seem to be full of restaurants, but no one was entering them at 11:30 in the morning.

We wandered a bit, looking for a place with people, and came upon this little stand.

It had a steady stream of people, so we decided to stop.  This felt more like street food than like a sidewalk cafe, and although it seemed a bit atypical for a leisurely brunch on a quiet holiday, we sat at the rickety table in the driveway and enjoyed us some empanadas, arepas and some sort of melon drink.  Muy rico.

I mentioned the steady stream of customers.  There was a table of guys who looked to have been sitting there for quite some time.  There were a few business people who came up, ate, and left - all within a few short minutes.  And there were the dudes from the armed truck across the street.

Security here is no joke, and the armored trucks take their names seriously.  These guys each carried a gun, an heavy belt of ammunition, and something that we guessed was a spray like mace.  They had heavy vests and they moved as a trio.  During the day, its easy to forget what a dangerous city we live in.  I don't imagine these guys forget.

Continuing the excitement, Chavez returned home to Venezuela yesterday.  We didn't hear the fireworks that greeted his 4am arrival announcement via Twitter.  We did hear many fireworks last night, which I assume were in further celebration.  He arrived by surprise, with no press and no photographs.  No one has seen him yet.  He is clearly not in good shape, and I still believe that we are in for a very interesting next few weeks.

The day's final excitement was for our Sophia.  She ran into another kid at the playground, which knocked a loose tooth right out of her mouth.  The school nurse put the tooth in a nifty little box which she wore around her neck all day, and placed beneath her pillow at night.  She lifted her pillow first thing this morning, and discovered... a tooth still in the box.

I asked her - what do you think happened?  She brainstormed for a while, and then we landed on the box.  Although the tooth fairy almost certainly created the box, she can not smell the tooth when the box is closed and so she did not know to visit last night.  Sophia opened the box, allowing the scent of the tooth to waft toward fairyland, and placed it gingerly back beneath her pillow.  By the time Lilly checked again, only a few minutes later, the tooth fairy had come and gone.

Thank goodness for Sophia's quick thinking, but shame on that tooth fairy.

Full Pantry and a Full Tank

We went shopping and ran some errands yesterday.  I had the same list I've been carrying since Feb. 5, when I posted it here.  Yesterday - 11 days later - I was finally able to find the last of what I had been searching for.  They had butter, frozen peas and Dave's cereal at the grocery store.  We stocked up on all of them, and then we spread the word to everyone about the butter.  Folks were kicking themselves for not being at Plaza's grocery yesterday - there was butter!  Of course, there were no paper towels or boxes of tissue.  I've given up on those.  They're coming to me in my air shipment this week.

Then we made our first visit to the gas station.  We've been borrowing a small SUV for the past week, and we needed to fill it up before returning it to the owner on Monday morning.  Please note well:  we filled up the gas tank on a small SUV.  We paid 10 bolivares.  At least half of that was tip.  It cost around 5 bolivares to fill up the tank with gas.  In dollars, the gas cost us around 27 cents.  Total.

Alive!

After nearly 11 weeks of complete silence from el comandante, Venezuela has released photos of Chavez.  He is alive! The man can not speak and struggles to breathe, but he is smiling and reading the newspaper with his daughters - very clearly alive.

So, I owe Dave a few bolivares, and we now get to settle in and watch what could be a very interesting political dance over the next few weeks and months. 

Stuff

I just got the email.

Our first shipment will be delivered to our home on Tuesday morning.

I am so excited!

This is our air shipment.  This is a few hundred pounds worth of the stuff you need the most.  At most posts, the air shipment arrives within a few weeks of packing it up.  Frequently, I suppose it arrives before the officer and their family arrives.

We will have been here for over 8 weeks.

I am so excited to see my stuff!

Really, its rather disappointing how excited I am about my stuff.  I wish I were a person who didn't value stuff.  I would still like to think that I value other things much higher.  But there are a number of key pieces whose absence have made life more difficult.  Many of those things belong in the kitchen.  Most of the rest of them belong in my closet.

For better or worse, I fully expect that having all of my clothes and more of my kitchen here will make me much happier.

Now, one packs their air shipment with the things they can't really live without (8 weeks in, that's an amusing thought).  Everything else goes in the sea shipment.  At a typical post, the air shipment comes within a few weeks.  The sea shipment comes within a couple of months.  We will receive our air shipment at about the same time we would receive our sea shipment, were we at a more typical post.

However, I can not complain too much.  Rumor has it that the rest of our things - not only our sea shipment, but also our car and our food shipment - will follow very soon behind.  And I am not at all ashamed to say that my house will feel much more like home once I am surrounded by my own things, rather than gleanings from the embassy's much appreciated pool of cheap dishes and sheets.

Oh, Tell it on the Mountain

Two year old Annika sings all the time.  Here is her version of Go, Tell it on the Mountain.

Oh, tell it on the mountain;
Over the hills we go everywhere;
Oh, tell it on the mountain,
That Jesus Christ is bored.

Awesome.

The Silent Holiday

We are on the very tail end of a 4-day weekend for Carnaval.  Carnaval is a holiday in the same spirit of Mardi Gras, celebrating the last few days before Lent begins.  I believe it is popular in many Catholic countries, and so throughout Latin America.  A friend in Brazil posted photos of her daughter with a large feathered mask and seems to be enjoying quite the party atmosphere in her neck of the continent. 

In Venezuela, the Carnaval has brought very little of a carnival atmosphere.  In fact, it has been a pleasantly quiet weekend.  It seems that most caraqueños left town for the weekend, and life has been very quiet.  The grocery store was practically empty yesterday and the roads have been quiet.

We've enjoyed late sleeping, restaurant eating, and loads of swimming pools with our friends.

Saturday saw us exploring the local mall in search of contacts.  Successful, I might add.

Sunday saw us in the Venezuelan countryside, about 45 minutes away at a golf club with two other families.  We sat by the pool eating, talking, swimming and enjoying both a bottle of rum and the fact that the other families had girls' our kids' ages and girls' old enough to watch them all on the playground all afternoon.  It was such a treat to get outside of the city, and drive into the countryside of Venezuela for a bit.  The hills rise up dramatically and are covered in various greens, sometimes a carpet of ferns, sometimes a tall forest, and sometimes very tropical;  generally with a few homes perched on the side.

Monday saw us at the Chief of Mission Residence, or CMR.  Nothing can be affiliated with the federal government without a 3-letter abbreviation.  We have no ambassador at the moment, because of the strained political relationship.  Instead we have a chargé, and he lives in the CMR.  The CMR is a house for entertaining, and as such it is lovely.  It sits nestled into a pleasant hill with a large yard and a very pleasant swimming pool, which are open to Embassy families during the day.  We helped to celebrate the birthday of an embassy 5-year-old with pizza and cupcakes and plenty more swimming.

Today brought us into the city to an urban tennis and swim club.  Friends from church are Americans employed by big oil.  We spent yet another afternoon poolside, enjoying getting to know a family outside of the embassy bubble, talking about building a small group Bible Study, and letting the kids explore a new playground and yet another swimming pool.

All this in weather around the upper 70s with blue skies and a light breeze, a bit warmer when you're in direct rays of the sun.  I have nothing to complain about.

Grocery Update

I went grocery shopping on Tuesday night, and posted the results.  I went shopping again yesterday, and again this afternoon.

Through those three trips, I am still looking for frozen peas, breakfast cereal, paper towels, kleenex, toast cheese and butter.  And now I'm also looking for dish soap.

Blessedly, we're borrowing a neighbor's car for the week and can easily get to the store every few days.

Censored!

Today, someone at the embassy asked me to remove a post.  How very dramatic for me!  He was uncomfortable with a few things about it, but primarily that I did something illegal.

And oh, I love this Venezuelan law!

To stay within the law, a person must only discuss one exchange rate.  The exchange rate.  According to the law, Venezuela only has one exchange rate.

Far be it from me to break the law.

But if you're interested, check out paragraph two in this article from The Economist.

That article is already out of date, though.  Just today, the Venezuelan government increased the fixed rate of their currency.  Guesses on the impact?  Projected rises in prices, possibly some inflation, and... well, nothing else that I'm going to discuss.

Kudos to Kim Lee

Some of you will remember our Chinese housekeeper, Wendy.  Her husband beat her, and she struggled with the choice to leave him.  Without any support from her family or friends, and needing to leave her daughter in his custody, she did choose to leave him.  She chose to set an example for her daughter, that abuse is not acceptable.  And she ended up living close enough to her dysfunctional husband that he asked her to care for their daughter most of the time anyway.  She is happy - thank God.

A friend sent along this story about Kim Lee, an American married to a famous Chinese man and living in China.  When her husband beat her, she went public with photos and her story went viral.  She faced problems every step of her way to divorce and prosecution.  And she was finally awarded a divorce, full custody of their children, and a handsome settlement.

Her story is far from the norm in China.  But I loved her quote,

"I made a conscious decision. I used a Chinese lawyer, I used Chinese courts," she says. "To be honest, a lot of my American friends did not understand this. They were like, 'You're crazy. You're American. Go to the embassy immediately.' But I did not want to teach my daughters, 'No one can beat you because you're American.' I wanted to teach them, 'No one can beat you because you're a person, you're a woman.' "

I love the example she set for every Chinese woman who feels worthy of respect.  For every Chinese woman who never felt worthy of respect.  Here's to hoping that this begins a true tide of change for women in China.

Tonight's Groceries

I went to the grocery store this evening.  It had been over a week since I last shopped, so my list was long.  Now, this is Venezuela long - not United States long.  There were no veggie burgers on the list, or graham crackers.  Just multiples of many of the items. 

My list was 17 items long.

Here is what was missing from the shelves, and therefore my final bill tonight:
chicken
ground beef
frozen peas
apple juice
cheese triangles
paper towels
kleenexes

Also missing was flour and sugar, but those are not even of note anymore.  I've stocked up via Amazon and only look to keep my stock healthy.

The good news is that I had milk on my list - 3 different varieties.  Semidescremada is near 2%, and La Pastoreña's is the one my kids will drink;  completa is whole milk and leche condensada should be a good substitute for cream in homemade sauces.  Finding one of the three is hit or miss, especially when I'm being brand specific.  The trifecta was amazing!  We loaded up - 33 liters of the drinking milk.  It'll be gone in less than a month.

The Rules

Just to be clear, here are the rules of my game:

I don't post photos nearly often enough - so sorry.  Its because I never post photos of my kids, to keep them safe from stalkers and kidnappers.  And my kids seem to pop into most of my photos.

I don't speak for the U.S. Embassy in any way at all.

Dave has Security Clearance, and is privy to confidential information.  He never shares this with me.  Ever.

As an embassy family member, I am privy to sensitive but not confidential information.  I never share this sensitive info with you, my readers.  Ever.

Anything I share here has been gleaned from my observations in the country, conversations with other non-secure persons, and what I read from published journalists.

I will never complain about Uncle Sam.  Not only does he sign our family's paychecks, but he currently pays our rent and our school tuition as well.  In this all controlling capacity, he could certainly give me cause to complain.  But this will never be that forum.  Following the NYTimes rule, I should never write something that Dave wouldn't be comfortable seeing on the front page of the New York Times.  In all honesty, this made our blog pretty boring during some stressful parts of our lives.  But Uncle Sam is doing pretty well by us here, so its not slowing me down at all these days.

If you're reading back issues, Uncle H-- was Dave's former employer.  They filled the same capacity, as the rich uncle who paid our rent and our school tuition.  But Uncle H-- was an human resources consulting company which I never named specifically, so I wasn't too concerned about my individual rants showing up in the New York Times.  At times, I probably would have been happy if they had.

That's probably it.  I hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying the growth in readership!

Political Rallies

We get emails every time the Venezuelan government plans a political rally.  This is particularly good, because so far each rally has come with fighter jets skimming the hill we live on.   Its loud and surprising, and initially a little bit scary.  And then you remember the email and that its just a show, and you settle in at the windows to watch.

 This building is our backyard neighbor.  These guys were flying really close to us.

 That I could fit them into the picture at all shows that they're flying pretty low.  I just thought this was pretty.

The Hits Keep On Comin'

The weekend just continues to bring excitement.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning - far too early for a Sunday morning.  Early enough to jump in a van with a bunch of others and head over to the Chinese market.  The Chinese are a noteable minority in Caracas. Chavez has buddied up to China and they may have shipped over a bunch of workers to help out.  The Chinese market is only held on Sunday mornings, but it is packed.  It felt like China all over again - with butchers whacking up room temperature meat on folding tables, boxes and piles of bright green vegetables, people pushing and people smoking and loads of delicious smells.  We found our way into a dim sum restaurant and enjoyed some of the best dumplings I've had in years.

Dave and the girls met me at church, because they're not really 7am marketers.  Dave spent most of the church service in the nursery with Annika, who would not be left alone.  I spent the service without focus, listening to the folks chatter behind me and playing with my phone.  The pastor speaks well, but I keep comparing to our church in Virginia and feeling homesick.

We stayed after the service for the coffee hour and were blessed to meet quite a few people.  We chatted with two families who look like ours, even with girls in the 2nd grade.  We chatted with a restauranteur who promises to treat us in a few weeks.  We learned a bit of the history of the church - begun in the early 1900s, it was originally the American church and catered to a large community.  As it aged and grew, it became the International church and catered to an even larger community.  Before Chavez, they had 400 active members.  After Chavez, the pastor lost his visa and the big companies pulled out their expats and the church dwindled to only a handful of regular attenders.

A year and a half ago, those regular attenders found a Venezuelan pastor who trained in the U.S. and is quite familiar with running an American church.  The church has a new energy, and has kept many of their visitors since he came.  The children's program is growing.  We went to lunch with the pastor and his family - including another 2nd grade girl!  We enjoyed their company, their taste in food, and their heart and vision for the church.  It doesn't feel anything like home yet, but we will stick.

We spent all of our cash on lunch.  But we weren't worried, because we now have a number of new things:  1. a local bank account;  2. money in our local bank account, and 3. a debit card for our local bank account.  We headed to the ATM at the embassy on our way to the grocery store.  We went in the wrong gate.  Then Dave forgot his access code.  Then we went in through the right gate.  Then Dave forgot his pin number.  We didn't get any cash.  So we didn't go to the grocery store.  It was a bit of a bummer after such a fun day - and it struck both of us how we can weather the major challenges, but the little things can really strike a blow to our moods.

However, we were able to pull together some pizza-empanadas for dinner (not bad, but not great) while the girls' cleaned the house.  When Dave left for his party, the girls behaved well and went to sleep on time.  As we wrap up this weekend, Dave has found his way to a Super Bowl Party and I have found my way to a quiet house and a bag of Doritos.  Why waste an excuse to increase my caloric consumption for the day?  With every passing day, we discover something new about our home and we feel a bit more settled.

The Cocktail Party, The Birthday Party, and the Decision

Its been a weekend full of firsts.  I went to my first embassy cocktail party.  Dave and Sophia went to their first Venezuelan kids' birthday party.  And Dave and I made a big decision.  I guess its not our first big decision, but its the first time we've felt decided on this issue.

The embassy cocktail party was last night, and the fancy golf club nearby.  Dave and I were going to go together, and were looking forward to the date night - me in a cute little dress, the girls at home with the housekeeper, all that.  But then we fired the housekeeper, and since I still have the cute little dress, Dave stayed home with the girls and I went with our neighbor.

The party was fun, with free-flowing wine, lots of cheerful chatter and some really tasty h'orderves.  And the evening intensified the small town feeling of working in an embassy.  I knew enough people to keep myself busy and moving through circles all evening, which was lovely.  And I kept chatting with someone who knows my husband, or whose spouse I'd already worked with.  Putting people together on a work level, a social level, and a family level is interesting.  These people are the folks who manage my housing, manage my shipment, manage our social events, manage the alarm system, and also manage plenty of desk jobs and window jobs like Dave's.  I think I can handle living in a small town community within a larger city.  I think this is going to be fun.

Jesse, my neighbor and date, and I left starving - not nearly enough little appetizers.  So I also got to stop for street food last night.  I'm not sure what pepitas are, but they settled well after the wine and the windy roads.

Two of Sophia's classmates shared a birthday party this afternoon.  Now, from the windows of our apartment, I feel qualified to say that Caracas knows how to throw a party.  Most weekends, we hear music through our windows from mid-afternoon to late at night.  Neighbors will rent the party room of their building as well as the backyard, hire a dj, rent a bouncy castle or a dance floor and keep the party going for hours.  I didn't get to attend these 6-year-olds' birthday party, but Dave reported back.  Captain America and his sidekick (Sophia said she had beautiful lips, but felt skeptical that Captain America only speaks Spanish) were hired to do gymnastics.  A trampoline and a bouncy castle were installed in the backyard.  A hot dog stand, a doner kabob stand, and a crepe stand were installed inside.  Plus, plenty of candy and pinatas and a dj playing what Sophia called "rock star style music."  It lasted much longer than 2 hours that she stayed.

And then, after a really delicious chicken dinner and getting the girls to bed, Dave and I seriously discussed my work options.  And we've made a plan.  A: I am not going to work in the embassy while I am here.  These are my last 2 years at home with Annika, and I don't want to miss them.  B: I am not going to hire a new housekeeper.  Housekeepers and nannies are a bargain here, but still a significant chunk of the monthly budget.  We can save quite a bit over the year, even if we hire someone to clean and iron once a week.  C: I am going to buy the instruments and apply for a license to teach music classes here, beginning in the spring.  This gives me a project, and provides enrichment both for Annika and for our community.  If I only teach one class per week, I will break even financially about halfway through our time here and have the opportunity to give my child these classes and a good social outlet.  If the opportunity arises, I will be able to add classes and be fully profiting from each additional class, piling on those savings.

I am comfortable with this plan, if not excited about it.  We drained our savings living in Virginia for the past 2 years, and so the primary goal of our time here in Venezuela is to rebuild those savings as much as possible.  This plan seems to nicely balance living thriftily and also prioritizing my time with my girls - time that is already disappearing like sand.

Firing

Its harsh, but here's how it works.

You can not learn much about a nanny or housekeeper during an interview.  This is especially true when you speak different languages and come from different cultures.  This is true because it is a very personal relationship.  Your housekeeper keeps your house just how you want it.  Your nanny cares for your children as you would.  You spend a lot of time together.

You interview, of course.  But then you settle into a trial period.  This trial period is sometimes explicitly stated in the interview.  Sometimes its not.  But its acknowledged in general customs and law, which states that no severance of any sort is required within the first 90 days of work. 

Its like dating.  You can't interview someone to find out whether or not they'll be compatible.  You go on a few dates.  You hang out.  You rely on each other a bit.  You help each other out.  And if you see that the boy is not right for you, you dump him.

Marilu worked for us for 4 weeks.  Today I had to tell her that it wasn't a good fit.  I steeled myself, knowing that she had been acting inappropriately.  Knowing that I am not wrong to do this.  Knowing that I tried fixing the problems this week, and they did not disappear.  Knowing that a kind conversation with someone who holds your keys and cares for your child is dangerous - best to just stop when you see you must be done.  You can't string the discarded boyfriend along - especially if he's got the keys to your house.  Its time to cut your losses and move on.

I steeled myself.  I knew I was right.

I practiced my Spanish.  I knew how to say what I needed to say.  (upon review, I did leave out one que.  she still understood.)

She argued.  She pleaded.  She bargained.  She wanted to talk to Dave.  She cried.  She left.

It doesn't matter that I was right.  I feel like a jerk.