Day 1425: The Theatre Is In Our Blood

Random Friend:  “Mr. JohnPaul, were you really an actor?”

Me:  “Yes.”

Grayson:  “See!  I told you!”

And with that justification, Gray always took a lot of pride from the impressed faces of his friends.

Anyway, now that Serena and the boys are back in the States for the summer, I thought it would be fun for Grayson to take a couple summer camps, one of which was an acting camp operated by the Curtain Call Youth Players, which is the program I started in and later taught for.  Grayson is a pretty pliable kid so he was totally cool with trying it out… although I could sense a little uneasiness in his voice when we talked the Sunday night before his first day.

I made a point of giving him a call Monday afternoon after Serena picked him up to see how it went and his tone was completely different.  “Dad, it was so much fun!  It wasn’t what I was expecting at all.  We are actually going to do a play.  We are doing One-Hundred and One Dalmatians!  And guess who I was picked to play?”

Me:  “A Dalmatian?”

Gray:  “No!  I’m going to play the dad!  The human dad of the dogs and puppies.  Their owner!”

He was very excited.  I was very excited.

For the rest of the week I made it a point to call Grayson after camp to see how things were going.  I had actually expected his initial excitement to waiver a bit over time, but it didn’t.  Even anything, his excitement intensified over the course of the week.  He told me about his lines, the songs and dances he was learning, the sets and props they were building, and even the cast party they were planning for after the performance that Friday.

I was really taken back.  Grayson was taking the show VERY seriously.

And by midweek he asked if I knew of other acting classes he would take in the fall, when school started.

Of course, still being in Suriname, I was unable to attend Grayson’s stage debut, but I called him soon after to get his reaction.

Me:  “How did it go buddy?”

Grayson:  “Great!”

I melted.  It wasn’t really the word he used.  “Great!”  It was how he said it.  His tone.  I knew that tone all too well.  Gray sounded like an actor who was riding high after nailing it on stage.  I had never heard Grayson speak with such excitement and passion.  “Dad, I bet you are so proud of me.  And you know what Grandma said?  What your mom said?  She said I was quite the actor like my dad.”

Melt, melt, melt.

That call will easily remain in my top ten Grayson conversations of all time.

Later that night Serena uploaded the video of the show to our Dropbox account.  I was so excited.  And what I saw made my jaw drop.  Grayson… was… amazing.  He was a machine.  Totally focused on his performance and what he was there to do.

First, his part was actually pretty darn big.  He was on stage for most of the show and had quite a few lines.  He knew every single one and said then all at the appropriate time and when speaking to Cruella he delivered his lines we great intensity.  He really was the father of all those dogs.

Second, he stayed in character.  This is probably the hardest thing for children to do; resisting the temptation of giggling or interacting with the audience.  But Grayson was just on fire.  From scene to scene if did exactly what he needed to do, often times while some of the other kids were breaking out of their characters.

Third, he totally understood the flow of the story, his blocking, and took direction well.  As soon as each scene ended Grayson would bolt to his start position for the next with the kind of speed and focus any director would dream of.  He was almost always the first kid in place and ready to go.  I think this is noteworthy, because confidence and initiative aren’t always traits you find in children’s theatre.  Most of the time young kid’s act like lemmings… mainly due to a lack of confidence and not wanting to look silly by making a mistake.  So, they tend to wait until someone else does it first, even if they know what their next move is.  But not my Grayson, he was out front and leading the charge.

It really was something to watch.  To be honest, I was one of those lemmings when I was first started acting.  To see Grayson out there nailing it was just… it was inspirational.

It was a really good week.  

Day 1422: Peanut Sauce and Citrus Maxima

Food. 

Mmmm… it really is the true benefit of living overseas.  Trying things you’ve never tried before… discovering new foods you never want to live without again.

In Serbia, it was Kaymak (a kind of spreadable cheese butter) and Ivar (a roasted red pepper spread).

In London, it was the English breakfast and Mincemeat Pie.

Islamabad introduced me to Naan and a delicious dish called Karahi Chicken.

And now, my culinary life in Paramaribo is no different.  There is actually a lot of variety here.  Indian Roti, Indonesian Bami and Nasi, and this really delicious Javanese salted fish (that Serena thinks is disgusting).

However, there are two simple delicacies here that really speak to me… and I don’t know how I will survive without them.

1) Peanut Sauce.

Oh man!  The peanut sauce here is amazing!  I put it on everything from rice to vegetables to French fries.  It is just so good.  It’s so sweet and spicy… and yummy.  Now, I know I can make my own peanut sauce… it probably isn’t too hard.  However, they sell it here dried in these pouches.  All I have to do is add a little water and boil.  AMAZING! 

Oh man… this morning I ran to the store to pick up some milk for my coffee and I couldn’t help myself.  I bought another pouch of peanut sauce.  I think I’m going to get some Bami for dinner and smother it in sauce… so-darn-excited!

2) Pomelo (or ‘pompelmous’ as they call them here… or Citrus Maxima if you prefer dead languages)

Now, I’ve never been much of a fruit eater, but I just LOVE-LOVE-LOVE pompelmous!  It’s basically this gigantic grapefruit.  Seriously, there is a reason they call it ‘maxima’!  I can only eat about a quarter of one in a sitting… and I have quite the appetite… so that should give you some gage as to their size.

It really is quite something.  It’s not nearly as bitter as a grapefruit and it has a very nice mild sweetness to it.  And it’s so darn huge that the meat of the fruit is something you can really sink your teeth into, which is a rare sensation for citrus fruit. 

Oh man… I’m going to miss you pomplemous and peanut sauce!  We will meet again.  Just like the time I found Ivar in at the Chinese market a couple months ago… or when Serena found a jar of mincemeat in Belgrade.

This is not goodbye… this is an ‘I’ll see you later my dear sweet friends’

Day 1416: Poisonous Greens

Back on Day 643 I told the tale of the Poisonous Vietnamese River Fish.  A culinary adventure I never thought I would be able to top… until now… with our families ingestion of poisonous greens.

A few weeks ago Serena made the most delicious, and somewhat out of the ordinary, dinner.  She had picked up a fresh loaf of fresh Italian bread from the market and made the most wonder omelet sandwiches.  Eggs, with melted cheese, bacon, and cooked greens.

It was really delicious. 

And then, about thirty minutes later Serena started complaining about a stinging sensation in her mouth… and a prickling sensation on her skin. 

I didn’t think much of it at first… but then I started feeling the same symptoms.

Now, by the time I started feeling the effects, Serena was already in full blown panic mode, so I made a point of keeping my cool… and my symptoms a secret… for the time being.  But I did do a little research.

I dug the plastic bag that had held the greens Serena bought out of the trash and I examined the handwritten name of the plant written on the bag and preformed a simple Google search.  Well… hmmmm…

Before I tell you what I found, I want to be clear and tell you that Serena bought these greens from the produce section of a store in Suriname where most folks do their grocery shopping, especially the expat community.  So, in my opinion, they should have been vetted as safe to consume.  However… they weren’t.

Now, I can’t remember the exact Dutch name for the plant, but when I preformed my search, it came back as a relative of the Elephant Ear, the beautifully decorative plant found outside many landscaped homes.  However, what I also discovered is that the Elephant Ear is not fit for human consumption.  In fact, if you ingest Elephant Ear, you are advised to contact Poison Control!

Apparently, the plant is toxic.  And even if you get the oil from the plant on your skin it is known for causing irritation and a burning sensation.

So… what happens when you ingest it?  Well… let me tell you.  It makes your mouth very sore, tongue a bit swollen, and your skin crawl like you’re having a serious allergic reaction.

That said, I also read that Elephant Ear is safe to consume as long as it is cooked.  Which is was… at least when I ate it.  Serena admitted to eat some of it raw just to see how it tasted… and she of course handled the raw plant while she was preparing it.  So, Serena’s symptoms were understandable.  But what about my symptoms?  Were they simply psychosomatic? 

What do you do?

Well… being in Suriname with no access to American Poison Control we did the next best thing.  We called our Embassy nurse who is a local.  Her reaction was calm and understanding.

“This happens.  I have had issues with this plant before.  Even after cooking it.  Your symptoms should pass in a few hours.”

Yeah… in a few hours.  And our symptoms did pass in a few hours.  We were fine.  But that still didn’t put us at ease.  In a country that has plenty of options for greens we couldn’t understand why these plants were for sale at grocery stores.  Or why people would buy them if they are known to sometimes cause issues when consumed (even if they are cooked).

Thankfully the boys are going through a phase where they would rather play than eat the delicious meals Serena makes for the families, so they weren’t affected.  Only Serena and I were affected by the toxic plant.

It’s a shame really… because the meal was quite delicious.

Day 1413: Suriname International School

Celebrating Gilliam and Grayson’s milestones is amazingly awesome.  And with Grayson it has become doubly awesome because he’s finally at that age where he is developing lasting memories; especially surrounding moment of significant personal impact.  Like his first day of school.

Now, due to the fact that we’re living overseas, these milestones can be pretty interesting… well… different.  They can be a lot different… at least compared to what I remember of my own similar milestones.

Let’s just say my kindergarten experience at Murdock Elementary was very different from Grayson’s Suriname International School (SIS) experiences.

For starters, Murdock had around 800 students spread-out from kindergarten through fifth-grade.  Each grade level had multiple classes and each class had between 24 and 32 students.

SIS has around 35 students spread-out from pre-k through twelfth-grade.  Multiple grade-levels are combined to make each class (for a total of six classes) and no class has more than ten students.

So yeah… size can really changes your perspective on things. 

Now, in comparison, most international schools are a lot smaller than your average suburban American public school.  But even compared to international schools SIS is very small.  Then again… SIS is only two years old and it usually takes a few years for a school to gain traction. 

That said, I’m not really sure how much SIS will be able to grow; Suriname does not have a large expat community.

There is actually another international school in town catering to expats.  They were established in 1966, but only have around 85 students (K – 12).  They have a really nice facility too, however, Serena and I shied away from this school because of their very strong evangelical Christian affiliation.  Serena and I feel that religion is something best taught at home, so we went with SIS.

Oddly enough, this is exactly why SIS was created in the first place.  SIS was actually founded by parents from that other school who felt the religious message had cast a shadow over the academics.    

Although Paramaribo doesn’t really have a large enough market for two international schools, SIS has been able to take over 30% of the expat market in just two short years.  I think that’s pretty amazing. 

But still, despite its size, Grayson was able to do some really cool things… like learn a little Dutch, play Santa Claus in the SIS Christmas Showcase, and even serve as the kindergartener’s representative to student council.

As parents, it’s been fun being involved, even at such a small school.  Serena was voted in as PTA president and I was asked to help revamp their website.  It’s been a while since I’ve built a site, but it has been a fun project.  I’m just now finishing it up and a few pages still need content, but I’m pleased: www.suriname-internationalschool.org.

It is kind of a shame.  We really thought we were going to be with SIS for three years… but in the end it was only for one school year.  Oh well.  At least we were able to contribute to the legacy. 

Day 1410: Tenured and Transferred

Hmmm… it’s kind of funny.  Sometimes you get to the point that you think you have all the time in the world.  After a year in Pakistan I’ve been just kicking back and enjoying my time with the family and when it comes to this blog I haven’t really been focused on anything except finishing The Chair… slowly by surely.

Now that The Chair is finished, I’ve been looking over my blog posts and I’ve realized I haven’t said word one about Suriname, which just seems bizarre!  I guess I thought I would have plenty of time.  Especially since this was supposed to be a three year tour.  But now… now it’s not.  I leave next month.  Crazy.

Now, I know I’ve hinted at about this transfer in my last couple of posts without getting into any details, but it is official.  Nine months into my three year tour… and it’s over.

You see a couple things have happened since the New Year.  The first and probably the most important is that I was tenured.  The coveted tenure!  I guess being tenured is a pretty big deal in the Foreign Service.  I was actually tenured with Cobb County before leaving to join the State Department… and on both occasions it didn’t really feel all that special.  Just something that happens on the road to retirement. 

But, unlike being tenured in with Cobb County, being tenured within the Foreign Service comes with some very interesting prospects… like career mobility.

In previous posts I’ve talked a bit about how folks within the Foreign Service bid for jobs.  Aka, how we lobby for assignments.  For the most part, people are hired for specific specialties and when they bid for assignments, they bid on jobs within their specific specialties.   However, once a Specialist is tenured, they are allowed to branch out and bid for jobs outside their scope.  Now, I won’t say bidding outside your specialty is abnormal.  But it is certainly more difficult to land the coveted job.  And a lot of the times, the attempts are unsuccessful.  At least for Specialists. 

It is not abnormal for Generalist (also known as Officers) to jump around specialties (or ‘cones’ as they call them), but for a Specialist the process is harder and not as common.

Anyway, once I was tenured I became curious about the process.  How exactly would it work for me to jump into a different specialty… or even into a Generalist’s cone?  So I started asking around.  The general consensus was pretty much, “Well… it’s pretty much impossible… but you can always try.  Just don’t get your heart set on anything; you’ll just set yourself up for disappointment.”  I am paraphrasing, but this sentiment came from numerous people who had been in the service for quite a while. 

However, all I really heard was, “you can always try.”  I’m a firm believer trying.  I don’t believe you can get anywhere unless you try.  If you don’t try, where does that get you?  Nowhere.

If bidding on jobs outside my specialty really was impossible, like so many people seemed to believe, we wanted to know where in the process it would fall apart.  So, Serena and I sat down, updated my resume, and decided to ‘stress-test’ the system. 

We picked seven positions on the NOW List, which is a listing of unfilled jobs in need of warm bodies, and sent them my resume.  It was a Tuesday morning.  And by the close of business four of them had responded.

On Wednesday, one of those posts submitted my name to their hiring bureau in Washington expressing interest.  Equally intrigued by my background and work history, they contacted my references that evening.

By Thursday afternoon my references had responded and the hiring bureau contacted my assignments officer in-charge of Paramaribo, Suriname to see if she would be willing to let me go.  My assignments officer, who is simply amazing, immediately saw what this new assignment would mean for me and orchestrated a deal to release me from my current assignment. 

By the close of business Thursday the deal was done and by Friday afternoon I received the official ‘handshake’ (or job offer) from the new assignment, which is a Generalist Chief of Section position three pay-grades above mine.  Insiders call this a “triple-stretch outside of cone or area of specialty”.  I just call it “awesome”.

So… here I go… off to another continent.  This time it’s Africa… the horn of Africa to be exact… Asmara, Eritrea.  And just like all great rewards, they come with great sacrifice. 

SchutzHappens is going unaccompanied again.   

Day 1406: The Chair, Part 50 – The End

Well… here we are.  The end.  I really wish this story ended with a great climax.  Like a car chase or a shootout or something.  But it doesn’t.

We didn’t even have an issue using the London issued gift card two years later in Atlanta!  IKEA’s computer system automatically processed the exchange rate from Pounds to Dollars at the register. At least that is what Serena told me.  I refused to go.  My mother kindly went as my proxy.  Oddly enough, Serena purchased two more chairs on that trip… two swinging chairs that hang from the ceiling… but with my history with chairs I’m too scared to hang them.

I can’t believe it’s been two years since the events surrounding The Chair.  I’ve been from London, to Belgrade, to Islamabad, to Paramaribo.  Grayson is now quite the little man and Gilliam is walking and talking and has finally hit that age fathers crave… he’s down with daddy time… when Serena isn’t around. 

And now… as we’re preparing for yet another international move, the saga of The Chair comes to a close.  A very anti-climactic close.  All that… 50 post… well… 51 post actually.  I accidentally posted two different 44’s.  Instead of renumbering I just made them ‘44a’ and ‘44b’.  So, 51 posts over the last 664 days.  All that and what do I have?

Well.  I’ll tell you what I have.  I have the most expensive and well-traveled used Tesco brand glider chair in the history of the world.  And it looks great in my garage… and it’s a handy bicycle rack.

Please note... this is not a staged picture.  This is where The Chair has been ever since we arrived in Paramaribo 8 months ago.  It never made it inside our house.

Oh well,  I guess it’s the story that really matters. 

Day 1402: The Chair, Part 49 – The Gift Card

Well... as I mentioned in my last post, two hours after leaving out flat we all arrived safe and sound at IKEA.  Yet, it still took us, almost, two MORE hours to process the actual return of The Chair. 

That said, the worst part of our trip was behind us… the box lifting, stroller pushing, child carrying, train hopping, and bus riding portion was over.  Pretty much.  We still had to make it back home and although Serena was planning to do a little shopping with the store credit, she promised not to buy anything that couldn’t fit in the basket under Gilliam’s stroller.  However… as we sat in IKEA’s refunds department… and as the minutes turned into hours… we eventually abandoned the idea of shopping.  We just wanted to go home and forget.

I’m still not exactly sure why it took two hours to process our return… but it did.  Although the first hour and fifteen minutes of our wait were incredibly slow, it was somewhat organized and understandable.  We simply had to wait our turn.  The returns department waiting area was actually quit large… with barely any seating available when we arrived.  And to compliment it’s DMV style ambiance we were given a number and asked to wait until we were called by one of the three ‘returns specialist’ on duty.  We were only about tenth in line, however as I would quickly realize, returns at IKEA weren’t exactly timely.

So… it took a while… but the kids were just as worn out as we were and all Grayson wanted to do was curl up on a chair and watch me play games on my iPod… which was fine by me.  And as I mentioned before, about an hour and fifteen minutes later my number was called. 

Now, I’m not totally naïve… my IKEA expectations were pretty low and I didn’t think my return would go quickly or smoothly.  Sure, I had my receipt, but I was returning two opened boxes.  So, I was prepared for a certain amount of heartburn.  However, they weren’t concerned by the opened boxes in the least… they were concerned with my receipt. 

You see.  IKEA will not process a return unless they can match your receipt to a transaction in their computer.  And, evidently I brought the wrong receipt.  Well… actually it was A correct receipt… but not THE receipt they wanted.  What I brought was my credit card slip/receipt.  Proof of payment to IKEA.  In addition, I had several other pieces of receipt like papers that verified the cost and items I bought.  However, they wanted a specific IKEA generated receipt with a bar code on it.  Of course!  A bar code!  The bar code linking my transaction to their computer system.  My bad. 

Between you me and the brick wall… to this day, I am still baffled by this.  I actually had about three pieces of paper, besides my credit card receipt, proving I purchased The Chair, but not a one had a bar code on it.  The fact that I was able to hold onto all those receipts for so long, without misplacing them, makes me think I was never actually given a store generated ‘bar code’ receipt.  Things like this fall into the ‘all or nothing’ category for me.  

But my credit card receipt would work too, right?  Umm… kind of, sort of, not really.  However, since I had so much documentation, despite not having the bar code, the folks at IKEA didn’t turn me away.

Although my receipt said IKEA on it, was for the exact amount for the chair and cushion, had the date of purchase on it, and even had a transaction number… IKEA couldn’t pull it up in their system.  Apparently, IKEA’s credit card transactions were archived on a completely separate and independent system.  And even though my receipt had a transaction number on it, I was told the number was generated by the bank and not the store, so there was no way to cross reference it.  The one thing my ‘returns specialist’ could do was use the date and time stamp on my receipt and try to match it with transactions for the amount I paid… which she tried and couldn’t actually accomplish.

So… I was asked to step aside, go to a completely different counter where a supervisor, who had access to the credit card system, would attempt to locate my transaction.  By this time… I had already burned about 20 minutes with the ‘returns specialist’ and it took about 15 more before the supervisor came to help me. 

Ultimately the supervisor was able to find my transaction, however it took quite a while.  It was very strange.  Her attempts to search my name and credit card number didn’t work.  However, when she did a search on the date and time stamped on my receipt she found me… name, credit card number, blood type… everything she wanted to know was right there.  However, she still couldn’t finish processing my return.  Instead, she printed out the details, gave them to me, and sent me back to my original ‘returns specialist’… who was busy helping another customer.  And once again I had to wait my turn.  Another 10 minutes later, my ‘returns specialist’ was ready to help me again.  And 10 minutes after that my return was processed and I was given my very own IKEA gift card loaded with our store credit.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, by this time Serena had given up on shopping.  Actually she gave up around the time I was handed off to the supervisor’s desk that didn’t actually have a supervisor sitting behind it.  That is when Grayson ran up to tell me they were going to the cafeteria for Swedish Meatballs… and that is where I found them after the return was complete.  And shortly thereafter, we headed home.  And our journey home was much more pleasant and completely uneventful.

And once we were back home we settled onto the couch for a rousing afternoon and evening of Ski Jumping… which is apparently the only Winter Olympic Sport the British cares about.

I have never set foot in an IKEA store since.