The dreaded last day of vacation

Saturday finally came, marking the end of our week in Belize. We were leaving Sunday morning, and Valerie and I were both a little mournful on Saturday, wanting to cherish our last swims, fruity drinks, bike rides, and conversations with new friends. That morning was the most gorgeous sunrise yet.

Midmorning, we cycled into town, in desperate search of some sort of anti-itch remedy for the sandfly bites that were driving me insane. The cream we found was moderately successful, but the smoothies and coffee we enjoyed while out was a delight. 

Our last dinner at the hotel restaurant was delightfully windy. We allowed ourselves to be a little bit selfish and take the best table in the house, a table for two that allowed both to face the sea with an uninterrupted view. A trifle romantic than we needed, but a welcome boon on our last evening in Belize! 

The next morning, we savored the sunrise, the last breakfast before we returned to a world of eating peanut butter toast and coffee while putting on makeup before work, and some short but sweet farewells with new friends. 

All too soon, we were back on our international flights. But we can't complain (too much!)! It was a delightful trip. Valerie is a wonderful traveling companion. We have the same travel ethos and the same sense of humor. Belize, like France, Switzerland, and Spain, might never be the same! 

Monday FUNday

Yesterday, my friend Ricci decided to visit Philadelphia on her day off. She and I are similar in a lot of ways. When she contacted me about visiting on Monday, I responded with a suggested activity that I knew would cement her plans: Trader Joe's! Ricci and I both love this grocery store, and since there aren't many in her area, we made plans to start our day by meeting for some grocery shopping!

After our shopping adventures concluded, we got some lunch and ate in the shade at the Rodin Museum. We paused for a few quick pictures with the Thinker.

After returning to my apartment to put all the groceries in the fridge, we visited the well-known Love sign at JFK Plaza and made our way to dinner. 

Ricci had suggested we do a nice dinner out, to celebrate my birthday (which was in March) and my graduation. Dinner was a delicious mix of swordfish kebabs and fennel salad, spanakopita, and figs and goat cheese drizzled with honey. For dessert, we went to a different nearby restaurant to share tiramisu and salted caramel budino. It was all excellent. 

It was a wonderful day and even better to catch up with a good friend. 

First days in a new place

And I'm back in a city. The second half of May was a flurry of decisions and changes. A friend contacted about a vacant room in a three-person flat in Philadelphia, I began applying to jobs, and resigned from my teaching position. 

Saying goodbye to my class was very difficult, but there were many factors outside of the classroom that were making it more stressful. My manager was incredibly understanding and supportive. One of my students nearly made me cry. When I informed the class that I would be leaving, several students responded by saying, "No! We will miss you." Ana looked at me and said, "Will it be better for you, Hope?" I didn't want to diminish the importance of my life in Harrisburg, but I felt it was important to be honest. I told her it would mean chances for a better job and the opportunity to live in a big city again. She smiled, nodded, and said, "Then we will be happy for you." 

I had an interview on Friday for a teaching position, but after the interview, I felt it wasn't the right job for me. It seemed completely irrational to turn it down on Monday when they called to offer it to me, but it was the decision that gave me peace. I have been blessed by friends and family who have kept reminding that my Provider will bring about a job at the right time. 

This past Sunday was moving day. I've been attempted to reduce my belongings for several months now and that eased the packing process tremendously. Mom, Dad and I packed my things into my brother-in-law's pick-up truck, and off we went. Despite my father's jokes, we didn't resemble the Beverly Hillbillies...much. 

Most of this week has been rainy and cold. As a result, I haven't been out exploring very much. My apartment is on the tenth floor, and it has offered beautiful views of the city with shelter from the rain.

I made my way to one of several local coffeeshops today. (I felt I was in danger of becoming a hermit if I didn't leave the apartment!) The coffee wasn't fantastic, so I likely won't be returning. Given that it could have just been an off day, maybe I'll have to go at least once more! It has a nice atmosphere. Thankfully, I've got several choices in a several block radius around me, including an Ethiopian cafe and a Lebanese bakery (baklava, basboosa, and kanafe a few blocks away...oh my!) I'll keep you posted on my explorations and opportunities in the coming weeks! 

Snow Days and African Violets

Two snow days in a row left me feeling a little bit of cabin fever, as properly diagnosed by my sister. Snow days are not nearly as much fun as a teacher. I may appreciate them just as much but my snow days start at the same time as any other day.

I wake up and struggle to convince myself that it really is important that I climb out of bed. Really, it's a must. (I usually fall back asleep, which is why I have no less than four alarms set for any given day.) By 7 a.m., my boss calls me to confirm that we will cancel classes for the day. Yay! But instead of getting to turn off any remaining alarms and saunter back to Lala-land, I instead need to notify all of my students. So, one by one, I call my students and let them know. Inevitably, this results in several return calls and texts as my students (very responsibly) confirm that their receipt of my message. Sometimes, I brave the cold air outside of my mountain of blankets to make coffee during my multiple calls!

The other day, Mom and I escaped the snow and ventured to a local oasis (read: garden store) and wandered through the rows of plants. There weren't any roses, but we certainly stopped to smell the gardenias and some incredible frangipani-scented soaps. I bought another African Violet.  I bought my first few African Violets two years ago, at the genesis of my horticultural escapes. (Those were my 25 cent words for this post!) Sadly, the other two violets contracted mites, but my purple one has flourished and bloomed repeatedly. I hadn't realized how much it had grown until I saw my new burgundy violet next to the purple one!

This coming week, several coworkers and I will venture north for a conference on Adult Basic Education (ABE), which includes adult ESL. Sadly, most of the sessions seem to be focused on other aspects of ABE, but I'm certain we will be able to glean some new information and practices. I love conferences, so I'm looking forward to it. Additionally, I just found out that there is a Barnes and Noble bookstore in the conference center, which makes me doubly happy. 

Jut to paint a picture of my current setting, I have to tell you that I can barely focus as I type. I'm at my sister and brother-in-law's house, borrowing Internet access to post this. My sister is attempting to do homework for graduate school while my niece is watching a cartoon. The result it is that we are both being subjected to what sounds like an operatic version of "Pop Goes the Weasel." I admire mothers everywhere for their ability to tune out extraneous noise. She seems to be more productive than I am at the moment. This might be the end of this post. And remember, tonight we turn our clocks one hour forward! Well, I will. Depending on where you live, you might not be doing so tonight! 

Find a Quiet Spot and Breathe

I have been complaining too much about the weather.  Today, it was time to look at the situation differently. This morning was a decadently slow Saturday morning. I made myself a homemade latte and oatmeal and actually sat at the kitchen table to eat my breakfast. 

 The colors in this picture soothe me. I love the vibrant green of the plants and my chitangi material, the bright yellow of the lemons. Although the picture doesn't show it, our Saturday snowfall had begun, and fluffy tufts of snow were swirling outside the windows.  

I am undeniably a warm weather woman. A perfect day, in my opinion, is one when the sun is blazing, windows and doors can be thrown open, and shoes are optional. Even in wintertime, I can't help but open the windows sometimes, just to freshen the air. A Swiss friend of mine told me that her family opens the windows for a few minutes every day, regardless of temperature, to bring in fresh air. I like that habit. I read that that we inhale 12,000 liters (that's over 3,000 gallons) of air into our lungs. We inhale and exhale 20,000 times each day. However, 90% of our day is spent inside.

That "90%" must be a cold climate percentage. When I think back to my childhood in Zimbabwe, I'm sure that my time spent outdoors was significantly more than 10%!

My kitchen is a peaceful little place for me. It isn't quite the spacious gardens of southern Africa, but it's a start. It's my little oasis of green in a wintery grey world. 

Did you know that NASA began considering using houseplants for air purification on space stations in the 1980's? I started reading an article about their top ten choices. They include aloe vera, peace lilies, African violets, and spider plants, which are all in my kitchen! :) 

Pinterest is one of my favorite websites for quotes, projects, recipes and ideas for just about anything. I recently came across this "Manifesto for a Simple Life." I don't know the author, Kelly, or anything about her, but I like her words! This Saturday, my part to remember was to find a quiet spot and breathe. It helped to turn my complaining into thankfulness, to remind me to be thankful for green plants, warm coffee, candles, and even pretty snow.

 

Nonverbal communication

Monday was President's Day, and a holiday for my class. Tuesday's class was cancelled because of winter weather. Somehow, after only two days of class, the week still feels exhausting. 

I went to get my students this morning, taking a snap of Moby and I as I waited for the massive vehicle to warm up at least a little bit. Yep, you can see four rows of seats, two car-seats, and just out of the picture is the most unhelpful ice-scraper ever made. The ice scraper might be more helpful if I 

could fully reach the windscreen when standing on the ground.

Most of the caseworkers don't like to drive Moby, so I typically get the pleasure of driving him. At first, I was afraid, I was petrified (...Did you start singing too???) but I've gotten used to it. It makes me chuckle when I turn the ignition only to have our solitary cassette tape start blaring Nepali music.

Most of our students/clients live in a housing complex not far from my teaching site. We've established a meeting point at an old gas station. Almost every morning, I pull up to the gas station and see two of my most faithful Bhutanese students, waiting stoically in the cold, occasionally smoking a cigarette. 

For the entire first month, their faces were always serious and almost dispassionate. They rarely came to class in December. Their caseworker called them finally, asking if they would come to class in January. The caseworker (who is from the same cultural background) told me, "They said they will come. But you have to remember, they might not come. Culturally, they will always say yes, but that doesn't really mean yes." 

That first day in January, I drove to the gas station, wondering if I would have any students at all. It always makes me smile to see my students standing in a line outside the gas station, patiently waiting for me in front of the "No Loitering" sign. The men dress in Western clothes, although sometimes they are wearing the traditional cloth hat called a topi. The older women are always awash in colors, wearing traditional cloth wrapped around their thin bodies in blues, reds, and yellows.  

Since that day in January, there have always been at least two men waiting for me at that stop. Sometime in January, despite the arctic temperatures, something thawed in our relationship. Now, Naina Singh and Sher Man return my smile and wave as they finish their smoking and climb into the van. As new students arrive, these two men shepherd them into the van, showing them how to buckle seat belts or open the door. They proudly say, "Good morning, teacher!" 

I should add that my conversations in the van are hilarious. By the end of my trip to collect students, there are normally at least two languages being spoken, and sometimes as many as five or six. Most of our students live in proximity to others who share their language. If absent students are part of the Nepali community, I'll normally ask Sher Man or Naina Singh if they know if they are coming. The response is a flurry of Nepali directed at me, which is completely incomprehensible to me, and then a much more helpful "Go" or a hand gesture to wait longer. 

There are several new students who live in a housing complex adjacent to the apartment block. One woman, Dil Maya (which is an incredibly common Nepali name judging by how many Dil Mayas are in our program), has been running late most days. As a result, I've begin to drive by her building on my return trip, hoping to hurry our departure a little bit. She wasn't at the gas station today, so I asked my regulars if she was coming. I got shrugs in response and gestures to drive past her house. I acquiesced and slowed down as I drove by her house. A man was standing on the stoop, smoking a cigarette, watching us with mild interest. Sher Man caught his eye, and through entirely non-verbal communication, managed to communicate that we were wondering if Dil Maya would join us today. The man went into the house, came back out, responded with a hand wave of his own, and Sher Man informed me, "She not come today." There was no need for a cell phone! 

I had to share this last picture. I keep reminding myself that I need to slow down. I have misread a number of things because I'm reading really quickly. I was substituting for another English teacher a few weeks ago. Her class is held in a local Baptist church. As I got on the elevator, I glanced at this sign:

At first glance, I thought it said, "Please do not pray on the elevator!" That seemed a trifle odd, particularly in a church! 

My grandmother's hands holding her great-grandson as he sleeps.  

Portland

I registered (well...sort of!  Keep reading.) for three conferences between the 16th and 29th of March.  The first was last week, and the last two are both on the West Coast.  I flew to Portland via Chicago yesterday, arriving at 11:30 p.m. (Pacific...2:30 a.m. Eastern!).  Fortunately, the airport shuttle driver Ryan was prompt, and my conference buddy and I were soon checked in, unpacked, and asleep.

I awoke at 6 a.m. to my cell phone ringing.  A student was calling to tell me that she couldn't come to class today.  I took that to mean that she hadn't remembered that I wasn't teaching class today!  Not long after that, we managed to make our way to the lobby, meet some other conference go-ers, find our way to the Max (Portland's trolley system), and arrive at the conference site!

Once we arrived, I had a little shock.  Apparently, I either forgot to register for this conference, or my registration got lost!  There is a little bit of humor in this, considering I was co-presenting a session at this conference with my advisor!  My name was printed in the conference program, but I was not registered to attend!  Haha.  I'm inclined to think that the error was on my end.  It is very plausible that when planning for this trip, last November, I thought I would register later and just never got around to it!  Either way, the same day registration rate was only $5 more.  My account can handle that difference.

The day was packed with good sessions, but by the end of it, my introverted self needed some silence.  As much as I have enjoyed the last week, it hasn't allowed ample time for solitude.  My roommate had plans for dinner and I made plans of my own.  I found a Starbucks, got myself a latte, walked in the drizzly rain for a little bit, and then went back to a quiet hotel room.

It was great! :)  Portland is already blooming and it's a delightful temperature, which has come to mean "not freezing."

Tomorrow is the start of the last of my three conferences.  This has a whopping 6500+ attendees.  The program book is quite literally a book.  Speaking of the book, I need to decide on my sessions for tomorrow!  Just to be clear, I am definitely registered for this one!

Pennsylvania Sunset

Grow Where You Are Planted!

I've always appreciated gardens, but it has only been in the last few years that I have had a interest in being a gardener.  I didn't really have the freedom to indulge this in the UK.  However, I have a lovely little patio now, and I want to take advantage of the space and the gorgeous spring.

After I finished teaching for today (which is an entire story also), Martha and I headed to Lowes to start Project Beautiful.

When reaching for a pot, Martha inadvertently dumped some very chilly rainwater on me.  We both started howling with laughter.  I don't think the other patrons knew what to make of us.

Neither of us have gardened much, but we are both from gardening families.  You might say the gardening urge has been dormant until now.  It is only recently starting to bloom.  We are budding horticulturalists.  (Haha...the plant puns have been "sprouting" all day!)  Just please don't call us "blooming idiots!"  

We made our difficult decisions (so many flowers!) and went home with our starter garden.  I had Martha take some pictures, because my Mother will be so amazed!  

I also purchased two large pots and some seeds.  Hopefully, I will be showing you some sprouts in a few weeks!  I've planted carrots in one and spring onions in the other.  

The Great Egg Hunt

Our Easter was a little different this year.  My grandparents now have three great-grandchildren, with a fourth expected in July!  The next generation are now the focus of our annual egg hunt.  Emme (1) was more entertained by the fake grass in her egg bucket, so it was really the other two who found the eggs.  

Jer hid the eggs on the back porch, due to the rain.  It ended up working out well.  There were plenty of nooks and crannies to hold the eggs.  

Oh they were so excited!  Anna (who turns two this weekend) kept running around from corner to corner.  She was so sweet and she kept sharing the eggs she found with Kolton and Emme!  I love that little sweetie so much.  She's the best!

I'm told this is an apartment, not a flat :)

My sweet little corner of M-burg is starting to feel like home.  I've loved being able to decorate and pull much of my Africa stuff out of storage.  Fortunately, my roommate also has a connection to Africa, and she doesn't mind the theme of our living room.  

My room has a few very special elements.  My cedar chest (the right had side of the picture above), my bed frame, and my bookshelf (not in the picture above) were all handmade by my grandfather.  The quilt on my bed is a pattern called "Around the World," and it was handmade by my grandmother.  

My kitchen is equipped with family memories as well.  My silverware belonged to my great-grandparents.  My glasses were my great-great-aunt's.  My flatware were my grandmother's.  I have a pitcher and five glasses that were a wedding gift to my great-grandmother in 1924.  I have dinnerware that was my great-grandmother's "everyday" dishes.  The table in our kitchen was used by my grandfather and his siblings.

I didn't think that I was a person who liked antiques.  I'm not sure that I am even now.  But I love the history.  There are only things, and as such I want to hold them lightly.  But in an age when so much is disposable, there is something wonderful about using a spoon made in 1887.  

AC, NJ, USA

The day after Christmas, we packed up and went to Atlantic City for a few days of time away as a family.  However, it did not go as planned.  Unfortunately, everyone except for me was sick from one thing or another and we came home earlier than planned.

My sister and her husband were up with the little Monkey most of the first night.  She seemed to be better by morning, but they were exhausted.  Pap (my Dad) and I were the only ones who seemed ok, given that Gran (my Mom) had also been awake most of the night.  Tia (that's me!) was then put on Monkey watch!

We played peek-a-boo!

And we played with the "wa-wa," which led to some very wet pjs!

I still giggle at this picture!  I think it looks like Monkey is still in the pjs and trying to peek out the window!

After all other toys seemed doomed to bore the Monkey, I made a little makeshift tent from a blanket and two chairs.  Without meaning to sound proud, I'm delighted to say that the "tint" entertained her for the rest of the morning.  I'll have to remember that for future babysitting days!