Day 1528: Donut Time

From the time Serena and the boys reached Atlanta, while I remained in Washington, DC, all Serena could talk about, with great pride, was how much I would love the house she found for them to live while I was away.  She felt it would be a suitable place that would feel like home when I visited.

However, once our shipments of household effects and permanent storage arrived in Atlanta, her voice lost its sense of pride and gave way to feelings of distant frustration.  She was a bit overwhelmed… especially having two young boys to look after while trying to unpack just about everything we own.  We didn’t merely receive the stuff we had in Suriname, which was overwhelming enough, but we also received everything we had placed in storage four years ago when we initially joined the State Department; making the unpacking process a much larger task than normal.

Although Serena appreciates my help when it comes to unpacking, she likes to place everything herself.  She likes to make her own home, which I can’t blame in the least; so most of my unpacking assistance is restricted to opening boxes and moving them into their proper locations.

So, when I finally joined my family in Atlanta, for a mere two weeks, I had a plan.  I would manage the boys so Serena would have time to do what she needed to do with the house, at least for just a few hours each day.  This was also a selfish endeavor on my part because I wanted to spend as much time as I could with my boys.  And as I mentioned in my last post, I was headed to Atlanta without anything hanging over my head… I was arriving in the proper state of mind to seize the day.

However, now that Grayson is in school… there wasn’t much to do, at least in the mornings, except help him get ready for school and walk him to the bus stop and once Gray was safely aboard and off… that left Gilliam.

Gilliam, who is now two and a half, and I seem to have a very different relationship than I do with Grayson.  And that probably has to do with birth order, their age difference, and how old they were when I left for my one-year tour in Pakistan.  Grayson was four and a half.  Gilliam was only six months old.

Growing up, it wasn’t until Grayson was about three years old when he finally zoned in on wanting daddy time and by the time I left for Pakistan, we had developed a very strong relationship.  And while I was away Grayson and I spoke, via Skype, almost every day.  And during that year we developed a very cerebral relationship.  There was no real way to ‘play’ over Skype, so during that year I think we got to know each other quite well.  But then again, he was four and a half at the time and he, kind of, understood what was going on.  I’d like to think that we’ve developed the kind of relationship where we can talk about anything.  And dang it, Grayson is a very smart cookie.  He understands a lot, feels a lot, and has very deep emotions.  One of this favorite things to ask me on Skype, even now, is “how was work today, dad?”

Gilliam, on the other hand, was only six months old.  And as he grew, he only knew of me as an idea.  “That guy on the computer screen is my dad.”  Dad… whatever that is… 

However, when I came home, two things were obvious.  1) He understood that I am his dad.  And 2) He was ready for some daddy time.

Almost immediately, Gilliam wanted to do everything with me.  Wherever I went, he wanted to come with me.  The store, to a friend’s house, you name it.  With Grayson at that age, and even a bit older, it took quite a bit of negotiating for him to agree to an adventure.  However, with Gilliam, all I have to say is “you wanna come?”  And Gilliam is says, “Let me get my shoes.”

So, when I was home this summer, it didn’t take much for me to get Gilliam out of the house, giving Serena time to organize the house.

Now, I will admit, our first morning adventure, which became our standard, was purely selfish on my part. 

I love coffee.  Love it!  I have to start my day with it.  However, Serena is allergic to caffeine, so when we left Suriname I shipped all of my coffee making paraphilia to Eritrea.  So, even though we had received a multitude of household effects in Atlanta, not one coffee making device was present.  So, on my first Monday in town, I really wanted my favorite cup of coffee… from Dunkin Donuts.

Now, as I said before, it never takes much for Gilliam to agree to an adventure, but once he found out a donut was involved he raced to the car without his shoes… and we were off.  A coffee for dad and a donut for Gilliam. 

We continued this tradition almost every day I was in town and Gilliam loved it almost as much as I did.  As soon as I saw Grayson off on the bus, Gilliam would say, “Donuts?”  Then we would kiss Serena goodbye, pile in the car, and head out for the morning. 

We would just sit together, enjoy our delicacies, talk, and we became such regulars that we were allowed into the inner circle of retired folks who started their day at Dunkin Donuts as well.  And it got to the point that Gilliam wouldn’t let me just order coffee… we both had to have our own favorite donut… which we shared.  We sat across from each other… we sat next to each other… sometimes Gilliam just wants to sit on my lap… and you know what?  It doesn’t matter.  Every configuration felt great.

The cutest thing about Gilliam and our trips stemmed from something I did on our first outing.  On the way to the Dunk that first Monday, I called my good friend Costello.  If you are avid readers of this blog, you’ll remember Costello from my saga about ‘The Chair’.  Costello is my best friend from High School and I hadn’t had the chance to see him yet and I knew he was off that morning, so I left him a message letting him know we’d be at Dunkin Donuts in case he was awake and interested.

It was pretty early, so Costello was obviously still sleeping… so I didn’t really expect to see him there; I merely wanted to touch base.  However, when I called, Gilliam, from the back seat started asking, “Who are you calling?”  And I said, “My friend Jeff.”  And Gilliam said what he always does when his questions are answered, “Oh, okay.”

When we arrived and started ordering, Gilliam asked, “Where is Jeff?”  I said, “Oh, he’s probably still sleeping, I just called to invite him… I don’t think he’ll come.”

Gilliam:  “Why?”

And then from behind us we heard a voice saying, “Wow, they’ll serve anyone around here…”

It was Jeff.  Aka, Costello.

Gilliam was almost as excited as I was.  It was almost like Gilliam knew everything Costello had gone through to deliver his stroller to us in London before he was born.

It was a great first day at Dunkin Donuts… but it was the only morning Costello was able to join us.  However, that didn’t stop my inquisitive little man.  Every morning on our way to Dunkin for our coffee and donuts he always asked about Jeff.  “Jeff coming?”  “Jeff there?” 

“No, he’s not going to be there today.”

And in Gilliam’s cute little way, strapped into his car seat, he would say, “Whyyyyyyyyy?”

“Because he can’t join us today.”

“But whyyyyyyy?”

“Well… he wants to be here, but he can’t, he has to work… but we’ll have fun right?  Just you and dad?”

“Yeah, okay.”

But that didn’t stop Gilliam from talking about Jeff while we were at Dunkin Donuts.  Whenever a large white truck pulled into the parking lot, Gilliam would say, “Dad!  Jeff’s here!”

Gilliam would always ask, “Whyyyy” when I told him it wasn’t Jeff, just a car that looked like his… but you know?  At two and a half Gilliam is a very special boy.  He understands a lot.  He knows a lot.  He absorbs a lot.  He knows good people when he meets them.  He cares… with all of his two and a half year old heart.

Our times out to Dunkin Donuts had nothing to do with Costello.  It had nothing to do with coffee or donuts… but it had everything to do with getting to know each other better… and for that… our time at Dunkin Donuts was a success.  And for that I am grateful.

Day 1510: Post to Post Transfer… Again

My transition from Suriname to Eritrea was pretty darn quick and because of that, a lengthy home leave wasn’t really in the cards.  Normally, when folks transition from post to post they’re able to take around six weeks of vacation to see loved ones and remember how to be American.  Then again, to get a full home leave folks need to have spent at least a year at the post their leaving… I was only in Suriname for 9 months… so there’s the rub.

This time around, my stay in the States was strictly centered on training in DC; which significantly limited my ability to take time off.  I’m not saying that I didn’t… but not being eligible for ‘home leave’ simply made things a bit more difficult.  Especially since Serena and the boys left Suriname about a month before me so they could find a house in Atlanta and get Grayson enrolled in school.

By the time I finished up in Suriname and caught up them in Miami, we only had time to meet up with some friends we served with in Belgrade, who were on home leave, for a couple days before we were off to DC for my training.

Thankfully, we were able to spend some quality Oakwood time as a family… when I wasn’t in training. 

Ah… Oakwood… it’s where we stay every time we’re in DC and it is the place where Serena feels like we can actually be an American family in America… meaning we’re not crashing with family or moving around visiting people… too much.  Although we did crash with Serena’s Uncle for a couple days when we became victims of this summer’s DC Blackout, which was awesome.

However, due to timing, Serena and the boys were unable stay with me in DC for my entire training.  They actually had to go back to Atlanta a few weeks early for Gray to start school and to accept the delivery of our household effect.  

That said, we didn’t have to say goodbye in DC.  Post was kind enough to let me to tack on a couple weeks of vacation onto the end of my training period, which they didn’t have to let me do, but was incredibly gracious.  And two weeks may sound like a lot, but when you’re staring down a two-year assignment away from your family, it doesn’t really feel like much. 

And to be completely honest, life in DC while in training and working though everything you need to do to transition to a new post, moving to a new country, isn’t exactly stress free.  It’s actually pretty darn stressful.  So, once Serena and the boys headed back down to Atlanta I made a point of finishing everything I needed to do in preparation of my transfer so that nothing would be hanging over my head once I left DC.

So, as soon as training was over, I hopped a flight to Atlanta and had the BEST two weeks of family time I’ve had in AGES! 

But more of that later.

Day 1507: Back in the Saddle

Well, here we go again.  Unaccompanied.

Are we crazy?  Probably… but I don’t really think our situation is as abnormal as many may think.  Solid families have done this throughout history and they still do it today.  And sure, this may be a two-year tour, but frankly, I’ll be able to make it home far more often than many of our men and women in the armed forces.  So, I guess that is how we keep things in perspective.

Also, having done this once before, while I was in Pakistan for a year, I almost feel that we’re old hat at this sort of service oriented separation.  Now, I’m not saying it isn’t tough.  Of course it is tough.  But life could be worse.  And the amazing experiences we have shared as a family has far outweighed these ‘moments’.

That said, the most interesting adjustment has certainly been the time difference.  7 hours.  And once daylight savings ends in November we’ll be dealing with an 8 hour time difference.

Serena and I have always handled distance very well.  Back when we first started dating, she was living in Nashville while I was in Atlanta.  No issues with time zones there, but for a dating couple, the smallest distance can be extremely difficult.  However, during those eight to nine months (before Serena finally said “to hell with it” and moved to Atlanta) we only spent one weekend apart.

And while I was in Pakistan, which could have been an 11 hour time difference, Serena opted to stay in Belgrade with the boys, which was only a 4 hour time difference.  During that year we Skyped almost every day… we probably only missed a handful of days total.

Here in Eritrea, it’s a little more difficult.  By the time I get home from work, it’s only about 12pm back in the States, which is fine, but now that Grayson is in school, I make a point of calling after Serena picks him up from the bus stop, which isn’t until around 10:15pm my time. 

And I’ll tell you this.  I am not much of a night-owl these days and I am dreading the end of daylight savings. 

But at the very minimum, as a family, those calls are when we are able to share some time together.  At least when Grayson doesn’t have an after school activity… and I have power, the lack of which knocks out some of my services and makes staying in touch a bit more difficult.

But, when we are able to talk.  Life is good.  And it looks like I might make it home for Christmas.  So that’s good too.

All and all, life is good.  And the adventure continues!  

Day 1428: SchutzHappens, March, 2012 - Dreams

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.