On rats

A lot of times, I'm not in the mood to blog because I don't feel like I have anything interesting or original to say but oooooh boy have I got something for you today.

Today I went to buy shoes for my spin class (those biking shoes that have cleats on them; my instructor assures me that the workout is totally different and amazing once you have the shoes and I love her and would do anything to make her like me).  

At the bike shop, the guy helping me -- Dan -- was putting the cleats onto the shoes and while I waited I asked him if he's American or Canadian.  He said American, and as we talked about where we are from, another guy at the counter said, "Seattle has an amazing underground tour!" and I said, "yes, but there are so many rats down there."  So then Dan told me about a huge rat he saw in Philly and I told Dan about a large rat that Eli and I saw on the electrical wires when we were outside our flat at 8:30pm on Saturday night.  Dan stopped putting on the cleat, pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his photos.  I was excited but also anxious (this is one of my favorite feelings).

Dan turned his phone toward me, and showed me a rat the size of a small dog.  In the photo, his colleague is holding the dead rat by the tail (the colleague was wearing a glove of course).  My shock was apparent and Dan explained that the rat had been eating supplements for six weeks before they trapped him (obviously they didn't sell any supplements that the rat had access to; this was a good bike shop).  !!!!  Protein powder works on rats, my friends!  That's the moral of this story.  

Our flat

I have had requests for photos of our flat (hi, Han!) and here you go!  We love this flat SO much.  I haven't put photos of our bedroom or of the deck because we need to buy outdoor furniture for it (this has been on the outstanding jobs list for so long that it's exhausting to even think about outdoor furniture; also it's coming into Autumn now).  Anyway, I will post photos of those spaces in the future.  The kids room is also cuter with comforter on their beds but they are mostly into fuzzy blankets and there are some battles not worth fighting.  They'll get cold one day.

This is how it looks when you come in the door.  Those steps to the left are to the
kids' room, and the steps to the right are to our room.

This is a super comfy pull-out couch, so if you come to visit this is your room!

Things that are strange here

Here is a list, in no particular order, of things that strike me as different in Sydney:

*People leave their trash strewn throughout shops, especially coffee cups.  It apparently is the case that if there isn't a bin (trash can) beside you when you finish your coffee, you can just put it on the shelf. I always imagine the workers going through the stores after they close, collecting trash, and wonder if they're angry or matter-of-fact.

*The coffee here is very good. I have not had a bad one.

*One afternoon each week, after lunch, the children do nothing but sports.  Tommy’s sport day is Thursday afternoon and Lizzie’s is Tuesday.  The entire school participates in a swim meet (called a "swimming carnival").  If you're young, you play games in a separate pool, but if you're 8 and over, you have to swim.  Even if you're not a swimmer, except that everyone is a swimmer.

*Most grown ups, say 35 and over, and most especially men, call Tommy “matey.”  We test this out quite often because Tommy greets many people as he goes through his day.

*Austrialians hate the letter “r”.  I knew this because of Sid, but even the lady who says the stops on the trains leaves them out.  It’s the classy way to speak. My favorite stop is Burwood, but you say it "buh-wood".

*You don't tip anyone for anything at all. I had a long chat with my only friend here, that sounded like this: "Your hairdresser?" "Go to the counter and pay." "What about a pedicure?" "Go to the counter and pay." "What about a delivery?" "Tell them thank you."

*The word "arvo".  It means afternoon and that is just silly.  It's too hard to say or type "afternoon"?

The absolute best part of Expat life

I just read this on my favorite blog:

I hope that in the future they invent a small golden light that follows you everywhere and when something is about to end, it shines brightly so you know it’s about to end.

And if you’re never going to see someone again, it’ll shine brightly and both of you can be polite and say, “It was nice to have you in my life while I did, good luck with everything that happens after now.”

And maybe if you’re never going to eat at the same restaurant again, it’ll shine and you can order everything off the menu you’ve never tried. Maybe, if someone’s about to buy your car, the light will shine and you can take it for one last spin. Maybe, if you’re with a group of friends who’ll never be together again, all your lights will shine at the same time and you’ll know, and then you can hold each other and whisper, “This was so good. Oh my God, this was so good.”

— Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You

And guess what?  This is what Expat life gives you.  You get a few moments when everyone present has a shining, small, golden light.  For all the transitions and goodbyes, you get the heartfelt moments of deep appreciation and gratitude.

We live in Australia now...

My sister used to live in Sydney, so when I told her that it was raining and she suggested taking my kids to the Powerhouse Museum, I typed it into maps and off we walked.  It’s a museum I don’t completely understand -- it focuses on science and design (which do seem to go together) but the Asian section featuring pottery, clothing, and weapons is just next to the bit where children experiment with electricity and physics.  Perhaps my objection or confusion lies in the museum organization rather than the collection itself.

Anyway, it was an interesting day for two reasons.  The first is that the - from this first experience - Australian children and parents have different expectations about turns and waiting for turns.  At least four times, one of my perfect, well-mannered children was waiting for "a go" on something and when the person ahead of them finished their turn, another child jumped in before T or L could move.  At one point, I said something but for the most part I guess they have to figure it out. But SO RUDE.

The second reason is the best one.  In the electricity section, a section meant for children to learn and experiment, there is an electric chair and all the children going through the museum are invited to sit in it.  I realize that this is Australia, which is different than the US where (I think) some states still kill people using the electric chair, but I found the presence of an electric chair meant to be sat upon by children horrifying.  Then, for all the children who can read, the plaque explains that when it was first invented, the electric chair was thought to be a painless, quick way to execute those so sentenced, but that we have since learned that the person being electrocuted remains conscious and can feel him or herself burning.  He or she is so in shock from the electricity that he or she is unable to react, which is why people initially thought it painless and quick. OMG!

We learned lots of interesting things at this museum, but my favorite (apart from the electric chairs) was that Australia used to have such a hard time obtaining fresh water that police used to disregard public drunkenness because beer was all anybody had to drink.  Just like on the Mayflower!

Camping and the permanent pit in my stomach

Over the weekend, we went camping with some of our favorite friends in Muscat.  These adorable photos of Lizzie and her best friend are taken on the edge of our campsite.  When we set up, it seemed impossible that the water would reach us and for the first night and day, that was the case.  However, we all woke up around midnight the second night to find water at the doors of our tents.  Eeek.  It was very windy (apparently there had been a weather warning) and we think that in combination with the high tide caused the disaster.  Luckily, we all got out of our tents and managed to spend the entire night in our cars.  (We all napped the following day, I think.)   It sure was beautiful.  (I have many more photos but no patience to sort through them and format them.  I'm sorry.)

So since around January 20, I've been walking around feeling uneasy - like something terrible has happened but I've forgotten it for a moment - and can you guess what it is?  I feel like I was punched and I keep trying to get up and dust myself off, and then I get punched again.  Eli has sweetly asked me to stop reading the news in the morning when I wake up and to wait until he and the kids are gone because it gets me SO WORKED UP.  I listen to podcasts all day long and my very favorite thing is that all the reporters on the NPR Politics podcast are so steady.  Even the day after the election, they were their normal selves, ready to delve into figuring out how Trump won.  (What in the hell America.)  They are so amazing at their jobs. But now I listen to Pod Save America and those guys all freak me out. (And also, the Politics podcast fell down a bit when discussing Trump undermining the Judicial branch with his "so called judge" tweet. But I don't blame them; I feel similarly shocked and outraged.)

One of my best friends here is Iranian.  Her husband and kids are Americans.  Guess who can't even apply for a visa to the US?  Trust me when I tell you that she is not a person we should seek to keep out of our country; we should be so grateful to have her.

Have you read this article?  What. The. Hell.  There is something wrong with this guy.

Over and out.  If you need me, I'll be listening to podcasts.  (Does anyone else laugh and then cry when they watch Trevor Noah?)

PS:  Eli took all these photos.  Obviously.

Jordan - Jerash

Our last day in Jordan was spent in Jerash, which are some amazing ruins in the north, near Syria.  The hardest part about Jerash is that it's clearly not being very well cared for (our guide told our kids to keep pieces of mosaic and pottery that they found, and some guys tried to sell us old coins they'd found which apparently come to the surface when it rains).  However, 80% of the site is still buried and at this point that's a good thing.

The kids had a great time; basically treating this place as one huge playground.  And, I suppose if it has lasted two thousand years, T & L probably can't hurt it too badly.  Right?

Below is the forum, you can see the lighter colored stones on the inside of the oval which were placed by the Greeks.  The Romans expanded the forum with flatter, bigger stones that are more of a pinkish color.

Lizzie on the main road, or Cardo.

A manhole cover!  The sewage when under the road.

This is the stone from the butcher's shop.  See all the cuts in the stone? 

Look!  Eli was there, too.  (But seriously:  I'm so grateful he takes photos of everything.  I LOVE having them.)

The smaller of two theatres.  The wooden flooring on the stage is new.

This is a photo on our drive back to Amman.  You can see to the left and rear of the photo,
a large used-to-be-refugee camp for Palestinians.  It has now turned into a proper town.