Monday, December 10, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
guess what?
So husband and I went to a restaurant where you eat in complete darkness, the concept being to use your other senses to enjoy your meal like the blind.
The meal is a secret as to allow you to guess what you were eating. Some of it was pretty obvious (so I thought) but there was one thing that I couldn’t quite make out. It was warm with a soft texture and the taste was so familiar… it reminded me of my childhood… perhaps I had it when I was very young…yes yes, somewhere on the seasides of vietnam...
“Hey, banana!” exclaimed husband.
Right, so much for that
The meal is a secret as to allow you to guess what you were eating. Some of it was pretty obvious (so I thought) but there was one thing that I couldn’t quite make out. It was warm with a soft texture and the taste was so familiar… it reminded me of my childhood… perhaps I had it when I was very young…yes yes, somewhere on the seasides of vietnam...
“Hey, banana!” exclaimed husband.
Right, so much for that
Sunday, December 2, 2012
merry christmas
So somehow a conversation about Christmas shopping with some co workers evolved into a debate about what day Jesus was born.
CW: Uh… the 25thof December. Otherwise known as Christmas.
Me: I’m pretty sure the Christians choose that day to replace a pagan holiday.
CW: So how do you explain Jan 6th?
Me: What’s on Jan 6th?
CW: When the 3 kings came to see the baby Jesus. It’s well known!
CW 2: It’s true in Czech we celebrate Jan 6th.
Me: Oh is that why break our teeth on small hidden toys in galette de roi in France every year?
CW: Yes! See it’s logically that it would take a week for the kings to reach the baby Jesus because back then it took time to get word and make the journey.
Me: Wait, are you using logic on a story based on…
CW: Based on what?
Me: [Don’t say it]
CW 2: What?
Me: I don’t know… magic?
This effectively ended the conversation at which we all raced to our computers to google it. First result: 4 BC.
Wait, WHAT? Doesn’t BC mean before Christ? Shouldn’t the answer be something like 0 BC? Which lead quickly to the google “what does BC mean”? Could it be that I don’t know anything?
To my relief the guy that invented BC/AD overestimated Jesus’ birth by 4 years but we still use his system.
I guess we all have something to learn.
CW: Uh… the 25thof December. Otherwise known as Christmas.
Me: I’m pretty sure the Christians choose that day to replace a pagan holiday.
CW: So how do you explain Jan 6th?
Me: What’s on Jan 6th?
CW: When the 3 kings came to see the baby Jesus. It’s well known!
CW 2: It’s true in Czech we celebrate Jan 6th.
Me: Oh is that why break our teeth on small hidden toys in galette de roi in France every year?
CW: Yes! See it’s logically that it would take a week for the kings to reach the baby Jesus because back then it took time to get word and make the journey.
Me: Wait, are you using logic on a story based on…
CW: Based on what?
Me: [Don’t say it]
CW 2: What?
Me: I don’t know… magic?
This effectively ended the conversation at which we all raced to our computers to google it. First result: 4 BC.
Wait, WHAT? Doesn’t BC mean before Christ? Shouldn’t the answer be something like 0 BC? Which lead quickly to the google “what does BC mean”? Could it be that I don’t know anything?
To my relief the guy that invented BC/AD overestimated Jesus’ birth by 4 years but we still use his system.
I guess we all have something to learn.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
speed wedding attending
So over the summer I was on the train on my way to have dinner with husband in Rouen. Checking my phone to see what time it was I noticed that husband had called me. Five times. I called him back.
Me: Hello?
Him: We’ve mistaken the date of the wedding!!!!!!!
Me: Huh?
Him: The wedding of my good friends we thought was next week. It’s TODAY.
Me: [You mean YOU thought] Oh.
Him: What do we do????
Me: Well what time is the ceremony?
Him: We already missed it.
Me: Oh. What time does the reception start?
Him: It’s already started.
Me: Oh. Well what haven’t we missed?
Him: Dinner.
Me: What time does that start?
Him: In one hour. How are you dressed?
Me: [Looking down at my tights and uggs]. Um. Maybe you can call your mom to see if there’s anything suitable at your parents house.
Him: Ok.
My train pulled into the station about 10 minutes later where frantic husband was waiting for me to tell me that his mom found a skirt and suit jacket that might work. But she didn’t find shoes.
I had a plan B and that was to run through the streets of Rouen looking for the H&M which was the only store in Paris I knew of that didn’t close at 7. When husband told his mom about our plan, she told us our only chance was Carrefour, the equivalent of a French Walmart;
So we raced back to the car and speed to Carrefour where I ran through the store trying to find a dress and shoes with the following 2 criteria in mind:
1. Size 35
2. Doesn’t scream “I bought this dress and shoes at French Walmart in under 5 minutes for your wedding!!”
We arrived at the reception, me wearing said dress and shoes feeling a bit carsick because husband had driven like a madman to be less late. But I had to recover quickly as to be on my A game to face the bride and groom.
Apparently word had spread because we were greeted by most people with “You guys forgot?” which I quickly corrected as us not forgetting but merely getting the date wrong (which to me is like manslaughter vs first degree murder). The bride and groom were gracious in welcoming us despite the major faux pas and we integrated ourselves into the evening rather seamlessly.
.
Just when I began to congratulate myself on getting through the crazy day rather well, I started to feel really nauseous around when the dancing began. I don’t know if it was the combination of some leftover carsickness, something I ate a dinner, strobe lighting and euro techno but all of a sudden all my body wanted to do was to throw up on the nicely decorated table. But I would not, NOT add “puke all over the table” to the list of things I would make this bride endure on her wedding day so I did the only thing I could do.
I ran out and puked in the parking lot all over my new French Walmart shoes.
Me: Hello?
Him: We’ve mistaken the date of the wedding!!!!!!!
Me: Huh?
Him: The wedding of my good friends we thought was next week. It’s TODAY.
Me: [You mean YOU thought] Oh.
Him: What do we do????
Me: Well what time is the ceremony?
Him: We already missed it.
Me: Oh. What time does the reception start?
Him: It’s already started.
Me: Oh. Well what haven’t we missed?
Him: Dinner.
Me: What time does that start?
Him: In one hour. How are you dressed?
Me: [Looking down at my tights and uggs]. Um. Maybe you can call your mom to see if there’s anything suitable at your parents house.
Him: Ok.
My train pulled into the station about 10 minutes later where frantic husband was waiting for me to tell me that his mom found a skirt and suit jacket that might work. But she didn’t find shoes.
I had a plan B and that was to run through the streets of Rouen looking for the H&M which was the only store in Paris I knew of that didn’t close at 7. When husband told his mom about our plan, she told us our only chance was Carrefour, the equivalent of a French Walmart;
So we raced back to the car and speed to Carrefour where I ran through the store trying to find a dress and shoes with the following 2 criteria in mind:
1. Size 35
2. Doesn’t scream “I bought this dress and shoes at French Walmart in under 5 minutes for your wedding!!”
We arrived at the reception, me wearing said dress and shoes feeling a bit carsick because husband had driven like a madman to be less late. But I had to recover quickly as to be on my A game to face the bride and groom.
Apparently word had spread because we were greeted by most people with “You guys forgot?” which I quickly corrected as us not forgetting but merely getting the date wrong (which to me is like manslaughter vs first degree murder). The bride and groom were gracious in welcoming us despite the major faux pas and we integrated ourselves into the evening rather seamlessly.
.
Just when I began to congratulate myself on getting through the crazy day rather well, I started to feel really nauseous around when the dancing began. I don’t know if it was the combination of some leftover carsickness, something I ate a dinner, strobe lighting and euro techno but all of a sudden all my body wanted to do was to throw up on the nicely decorated table. But I would not, NOT add “puke all over the table” to the list of things I would make this bride endure on her wedding day so I did the only thing I could do.
I ran out and puked in the parking lot all over my new French Walmart shoes.
Friday, November 16, 2012
living the dream
So it happens that every 5 years or so I get sick of my long hair and go searching for a cute maintenanceless hairdo.
Of couse this doesn't exists but I do it anyways and spend the next 3 months trying to look stylish but not waking up early enough to succeed. The next 9 months are spent with my hair tied back to hide a haircut that was passable short but ridiculous long.
For some reason this year I was more ambitious than ever and thought about getting a pixie cut. When I told this to friends they informed me that not only was styling the haircut obligatory but so was putting on makeup. Failure to do these things would result in looking like a boy, something that has happened to me even with long hair. I saw the wisdom in their words.
So I settled for an inverted bob. Everyone loved it as they always do because styling comes with the cut. I told husband to wait to till the next day to know what he was really going to be living with for the next year.
The next day I got up, washed my hair and air dried it as usual. It didn't look that bad. Kept it's form without any effort. Could it be that this finally I was living the dream? Cute, short, maintenanceless haircut?
I arrived at work Monday morning with hair washed and air-dried as usual. This was the real test. French people are outward judgers.
"Love your hair, you look very Parsienne".
Dreams do come true.
Of couse this doesn't exists but I do it anyways and spend the next 3 months trying to look stylish but not waking up early enough to succeed. The next 9 months are spent with my hair tied back to hide a haircut that was passable short but ridiculous long.
For some reason this year I was more ambitious than ever and thought about getting a pixie cut. When I told this to friends they informed me that not only was styling the haircut obligatory but so was putting on makeup. Failure to do these things would result in looking like a boy, something that has happened to me even with long hair. I saw the wisdom in their words.
So I settled for an inverted bob. Everyone loved it as they always do because styling comes with the cut. I told husband to wait to till the next day to know what he was really going to be living with for the next year.
The next day I got up, washed my hair and air dried it as usual. It didn't look that bad. Kept it's form without any effort. Could it be that this finally I was living the dream? Cute, short, maintenanceless haircut?
I arrived at work Monday morning with hair washed and air-dried as usual. This was the real test. French people are outward judgers.
"Love your hair, you look very Parsienne".
Dreams do come true.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
hurghada
So our second week in Egypt was to be at a 5 star all inclusive resort on the red sea. After having experience the *5 star Nile cruise (*Egyptian norm) we were both thinking the same thing when the bus dropped us off: How much’s the water?
To our delight 5 star really was closer to what we imagined 5 star to be. Spacious studio apartment style room, king sized bed, big flat screen t.v. you could watch while taking a bath. You could even make phone calls when on the crapper! The best part was the bottles of water replenished daily at no extra charge.
We spent the majority of our time in the same routine. Get up, eat, beach, eat, beach, ice cream, beach, shower, eat, sleep.
We did go one day to Cairo. Having really enjoyed our visits on the Nile we booked with the hotel, which as a mistake. It’s a 6 hour car ride from Hurghada to Cairo and we were told that they would wake us up and give us breakfast. No one woke is up, and when walked around the almost empty resort looking for food, a guy who didn’t speak English/French shoved our reservation papers on our face and made “follow me” motions.
Turns out not a lot of people want to get up at 2am for a 6 hour car ride to Cairo because there were only 6 people on the trip which meant we had a caravan instead of a bus. We now knew very intimately the poorly maintained Egyptian roads.
Going was much better than coming back because the nice couple we had met on the Nile shared their breakfast with us and I was able to sleep. Coming back however was a different story. The only rule when driving in Egypt is that the person in front has the right of way. Add to this poorly lit roads and a driver on his cell phone the entire way and it’s hard to get any rest. It was also really hot as one of the girls with us was sick and turned off the A/C. She eventually threw up. We stopped once at a rest stop where the driver pointed to some dodgy food stands and then disappeared. We opted for some overpriced Pringles, 2 boiled eggs and leftover crossaints from breakfast, and ate them while waiting indefinitely for our driver to re-appear.
When we were in Cairo there was a guide, though at first we didn’t know it since he never introduced himself, we were simply dropped off at the Egyptian museum and some guy told us to follow him. Once in the museum he provided information on things, based on what I could tell, its proximity to him as he walked speedy through the museum. Not that it mattered much, he had a strong accent so I couldn’t really understand him. Husband told me he stopped listening when he couldn’t make out if he was saying one thing or it’s opposite.
It continued on like this throughout the pyramids and sphinx with him giving us a brief commentary and ample free time whilst discouraging anything costly [read: time consuming thus preventing him from leaving early].
The trip was a bit of a shock for us as we had been sheltered in the tourist bubble for the past week and a half. We had to scrounge for our own food. No air-conditioned bus. People wouldn’t let us pay in Euros and demanded instead Egyptian pounds – I hadn’t even seen Egyptian money until this point.
Brought me back to my backpacking days and it felt nice. But of course, being catered to and lounging around without a care in the world is nice too.
To our delight 5 star really was closer to what we imagined 5 star to be. Spacious studio apartment style room, king sized bed, big flat screen t.v. you could watch while taking a bath. You could even make phone calls when on the crapper! The best part was the bottles of water replenished daily at no extra charge.
We spent the majority of our time in the same routine. Get up, eat, beach, eat, beach, ice cream, beach, shower, eat, sleep.
We did go one day to Cairo. Having really enjoyed our visits on the Nile we booked with the hotel, which as a mistake. It’s a 6 hour car ride from Hurghada to Cairo and we were told that they would wake us up and give us breakfast. No one woke is up, and when walked around the almost empty resort looking for food, a guy who didn’t speak English/French shoved our reservation papers on our face and made “follow me” motions.
Turns out not a lot of people want to get up at 2am for a 6 hour car ride to Cairo because there were only 6 people on the trip which meant we had a caravan instead of a bus. We now knew very intimately the poorly maintained Egyptian roads.
Going was much better than coming back because the nice couple we had met on the Nile shared their breakfast with us and I was able to sleep. Coming back however was a different story. The only rule when driving in Egypt is that the person in front has the right of way. Add to this poorly lit roads and a driver on his cell phone the entire way and it’s hard to get any rest. It was also really hot as one of the girls with us was sick and turned off the A/C. She eventually threw up. We stopped once at a rest stop where the driver pointed to some dodgy food stands and then disappeared. We opted for some overpriced Pringles, 2 boiled eggs and leftover crossaints from breakfast, and ate them while waiting indefinitely for our driver to re-appear.
When we were in Cairo there was a guide, though at first we didn’t know it since he never introduced himself, we were simply dropped off at the Egyptian museum and some guy told us to follow him. Once in the museum he provided information on things, based on what I could tell, its proximity to him as he walked speedy through the museum. Not that it mattered much, he had a strong accent so I couldn’t really understand him. Husband told me he stopped listening when he couldn’t make out if he was saying one thing or it’s opposite.
It continued on like this throughout the pyramids and sphinx with him giving us a brief commentary and ample free time whilst discouraging anything costly [read: time consuming thus preventing him from leaving early].
The trip was a bit of a shock for us as we had been sheltered in the tourist bubble for the past week and a half. We had to scrounge for our own food. No air-conditioned bus. People wouldn’t let us pay in Euros and demanded instead Egyptian pounds – I hadn’t even seen Egyptian money until this point.
Brought me back to my backpacking days and it felt nice. But of course, being catered to and lounging around without a care in the world is nice too.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
egyptian norm
So the one week on the Nile part of our trip was advertised as a *5 star all inclusive cruise for 1 euro. (*Egyptian norm)
What we actually got:
*5 star cruise ship (*Egyptian norm)
To give an idea of what a 5 star cruise ship based on Egyptian norms is like, imagine a big casino based on Atlantic City norms and not say, Las Vegas norms.
Still it was nice, deck with a swimming pool and clean rooms the size of an average hotel in Paris with private bathroom and hot water. We even got a towelagami animal greeting us each day on our room after our daily morning visits (swan, alligator, monkey, and even Mickey Mouse - guy was a real artist).
All inclusive
Three meals a day and tea time in the afternoon whenever ship was in transit. Someone even rang a bell to get our Pavlov digestive juices going. Drinks not included in the all inclusive. We spent about 10 euros each for water for the week, double the going rate on the street. When we tried to bring water we bought on the street to the table we were scolded.
I had been told by friends that Egyptian food was nothing to write home about and I’d have to agree. On about the third day of the trip we were served spaghetti for appetizer, hamburger patties and fries to follow, and ice cream as dessert in what I interpreted to be some kind of effort to give the foreigners a taste of home.
Activities:
Life on the cruise ship can get boring but the crew has that covered with nightly planned fun inducing activities like gala dinners [read: same food served instead of buffet style with the lights dimed] and dancing to music ala my cafeteria middle school dances in the mid 90's [nobody asked me to dance then and husband didn't ask me to dance now].
We did participate in “Egyptian” night where we all dressed up in jilbabs and ate Egyptian food which I couldn’t really distinguish from Lebanese food. We ate quickly and were able to avoid the rest of Egyptian night involving wrapping people up in toilet paper, an activity I’m sure is practiced by all Egyptians. We weren’t however, able to avoid the photographer who made us do Egyptian poses. We passed on the 20 euro resulting photo.
Visits:
Visits were not included so we figured this was where they made their money, but I was thinking, this is Egypt how much could it be? In the end we spent a total of 210 euros per person on visits: 120 euros for the standard visits (10 visits) and splurged for two extra visits: Valley of the Kings for 30 euros and Abu Simbel for an outrageous 90 euros (apparently due to the fact that we had to be escorted by a convoy).
Visits included air conditioned transport, price of admission, and tour guide. When cross referenced with my lonely planet guide, we probably paid about 3 to 4 times what we would have paid had we done it by ourselves.
*Tipping (*Egyptian norm):
I had read that tipping is a part of daily life in Egypt but we didn’t really have this problem as 54 euros were extracted from us when we arrived at the airport to cover tips for the entire trip. We unfortunately had to explain this to the people who requested tips anyways. You can only say “Sorry we already paid the agency” so many times to a guy with holes in his shoes before you start to feel like an asshole.
There are no beggars in Egypt; people simply provide services you don’t ask for (jumping into your picture, putting a scarf on your head) and then asking for a tip afterwards. In a country so poor and the tourist industry in steep decline, competition was fierce and we were getting solicited left and right. Having already experienced similar situations in Asia I tried to keep a smile on my face while remaining firm but after a while anyone can get weary.
*Security (*Egyptian norm)
The main reason we went with an organized tour is because we felt it would be safer. There were security guards with guns but by the clumsy way the guns were handled I wondered to myself if it wasn’t just some country boy who’s mother tipped his way into a uniform and paycheck. There were metal detectors but it didn’t seem to bother anyone if it went off. Maybe instead of checking for weapons they were checking for the presence of enough change for tips and you were banned if the detector didn't go off?
All in all we paid about 275 euros pp which isn’t bad considering you get to cruise along the Nile River and have all your needs taken care of for you except personal hygiene.
Wouldn't be so bad if it didn't remind me a little of a old person's home.
What we actually got:
*5 star cruise ship (*Egyptian norm)
To give an idea of what a 5 star cruise ship based on Egyptian norms is like, imagine a big casino based on Atlantic City norms and not say, Las Vegas norms.
Still it was nice, deck with a swimming pool and clean rooms the size of an average hotel in Paris with private bathroom and hot water. We even got a towelagami animal greeting us each day on our room after our daily morning visits (swan, alligator, monkey, and even Mickey Mouse - guy was a real artist).
All inclusive
Three meals a day and tea time in the afternoon whenever ship was in transit. Someone even rang a bell to get our Pavlov digestive juices going. Drinks not included in the all inclusive. We spent about 10 euros each for water for the week, double the going rate on the street. When we tried to bring water we bought on the street to the table we were scolded.
I had been told by friends that Egyptian food was nothing to write home about and I’d have to agree. On about the third day of the trip we were served spaghetti for appetizer, hamburger patties and fries to follow, and ice cream as dessert in what I interpreted to be some kind of effort to give the foreigners a taste of home.
Activities:
Life on the cruise ship can get boring but the crew has that covered with nightly planned fun inducing activities like gala dinners [read: same food served instead of buffet style with the lights dimed] and dancing to music ala my cafeteria middle school dances in the mid 90's [nobody asked me to dance then and husband didn't ask me to dance now].
We did participate in “Egyptian” night where we all dressed up in jilbabs and ate Egyptian food which I couldn’t really distinguish from Lebanese food. We ate quickly and were able to avoid the rest of Egyptian night involving wrapping people up in toilet paper, an activity I’m sure is practiced by all Egyptians. We weren’t however, able to avoid the photographer who made us do Egyptian poses. We passed on the 20 euro resulting photo.
Visits:
Visits were not included so we figured this was where they made their money, but I was thinking, this is Egypt how much could it be? In the end we spent a total of 210 euros per person on visits: 120 euros for the standard visits (10 visits) and splurged for two extra visits: Valley of the Kings for 30 euros and Abu Simbel for an outrageous 90 euros (apparently due to the fact that we had to be escorted by a convoy).
Visits included air conditioned transport, price of admission, and tour guide. When cross referenced with my lonely planet guide, we probably paid about 3 to 4 times what we would have paid had we done it by ourselves.
*Tipping (*Egyptian norm):
I had read that tipping is a part of daily life in Egypt but we didn’t really have this problem as 54 euros were extracted from us when we arrived at the airport to cover tips for the entire trip. We unfortunately had to explain this to the people who requested tips anyways. You can only say “Sorry we already paid the agency” so many times to a guy with holes in his shoes before you start to feel like an asshole.
There are no beggars in Egypt; people simply provide services you don’t ask for (jumping into your picture, putting a scarf on your head) and then asking for a tip afterwards. In a country so poor and the tourist industry in steep decline, competition was fierce and we were getting solicited left and right. Having already experienced similar situations in Asia I tried to keep a smile on my face while remaining firm but after a while anyone can get weary.
*Security (*Egyptian norm)
The main reason we went with an organized tour is because we felt it would be safer. There were security guards with guns but by the clumsy way the guns were handled I wondered to myself if it wasn’t just some country boy who’s mother tipped his way into a uniform and paycheck. There were metal detectors but it didn’t seem to bother anyone if it went off. Maybe instead of checking for weapons they were checking for the presence of enough change for tips and you were banned if the detector didn't go off?
All in all we paid about 275 euros pp which isn’t bad considering you get to cruise along the Nile River and have all your needs taken care of for you except personal hygiene.
Wouldn't be so bad if it didn't remind me a little of a old person's home.
Monday, October 22, 2012
egypt
So husband and I managed to sneak in 2 weeks vaca for a honeymoon despite the fact that I had taken off almost 3 weeks for the wedding and husband just started work (thank you French benefits system). It was the first time I had ever taken time off without knowing where I was going.
I wanted to go on safari in Africa but unfortunately this proved very expensive and we had just paid the bill for our wedding amidst French tax season (le ouch). Maldives was reasonable but I could probably only stare at beautiful waters for one week and not two. Greece seemed a good compromise but dodgy due to the euro zone crisis. Busy at work and suffering still from organization fatigue from the wedding husband and I decided we would just wait till something interesting came up on lastminute.com.
My plan actually was to really wait till the last minute to get something amazing at like a fraction of the cost. But turns out I’m not that kind of person who can wait one week before the date of departure before booking a trip so at the one month mark when I saw a deal to add a one week cruise on the Nile on to one week all inclusive resort at the red sea for 1 euro more, we booked.
Relieved to finally have a destination for my vacation, I woke up the next day to the news of anti-American protestors attacking U.S. diplomatic compounds in Libya and Egypt resulting in the death of the U.S. ambassador in Libya along with 4 other Americans due to an obscure low budget YouTube video mocking the Muslim prophet. Angry mobs with signs like “Death to Americans” plastered across the news.
Thinking perhaps that we should cancel, husband made the point that I didn’t exact look “American” and that we would be coming from France and not the United States. I agreed to wait and see and registered Egypt in my STEP program account.
The next day I got a warning message from the department of state for... wait for it... France. Yes not a peep from the Egypt listserv but apparently French Muslims were getting rowdy (to the department of state'se credit, there were demonstrations at the U.S. embassy in Paris the next day).
About a week later French magazine Charlie Hebdo published cartoons mocking the Prophet Mohammed enraging Muslims worldwide. Now was definitely not the time to be French American newly-weds in Egypt.
We had to decide what to do. I checked the department of state website on travel warnings. If you put a red dot on regions that are off limits, the map of northern Africa/middle east resembled the last 10 seconds of a game of sink your battleship: Libya – travel warning. Sudan – travel warnings. Israel – travel warnings. Sinai – travel warnings. Rest of Egypt – exercise caution.
We went anyways. Life is a risk.
I wanted to go on safari in Africa but unfortunately this proved very expensive and we had just paid the bill for our wedding amidst French tax season (le ouch). Maldives was reasonable but I could probably only stare at beautiful waters for one week and not two. Greece seemed a good compromise but dodgy due to the euro zone crisis. Busy at work and suffering still from organization fatigue from the wedding husband and I decided we would just wait till something interesting came up on lastminute.com.
My plan actually was to really wait till the last minute to get something amazing at like a fraction of the cost. But turns out I’m not that kind of person who can wait one week before the date of departure before booking a trip so at the one month mark when I saw a deal to add a one week cruise on the Nile on to one week all inclusive resort at the red sea for 1 euro more, we booked.
Relieved to finally have a destination for my vacation, I woke up the next day to the news of anti-American protestors attacking U.S. diplomatic compounds in Libya and Egypt resulting in the death of the U.S. ambassador in Libya along with 4 other Americans due to an obscure low budget YouTube video mocking the Muslim prophet. Angry mobs with signs like “Death to Americans” plastered across the news.
Thinking perhaps that we should cancel, husband made the point that I didn’t exact look “American” and that we would be coming from France and not the United States. I agreed to wait and see and registered Egypt in my STEP program account.
The next day I got a warning message from the department of state for... wait for it... France. Yes not a peep from the Egypt listserv but apparently French Muslims were getting rowdy (to the department of state'se credit, there were demonstrations at the U.S. embassy in Paris the next day).
About a week later French magazine Charlie Hebdo published cartoons mocking the Prophet Mohammed enraging Muslims worldwide. Now was definitely not the time to be French American newly-weds in Egypt.
We had to decide what to do. I checked the department of state website on travel warnings. If you put a red dot on regions that are off limits, the map of northern Africa/middle east resembled the last 10 seconds of a game of sink your battleship: Libya – travel warning. Sudan – travel warnings. Israel – travel warnings. Sinai – travel warnings. Rest of Egypt – exercise caution.
We went anyways. Life is a risk.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
conversations before dinner
Friend: So we met the major of this town. He’s nice.
Me: What?
Friend: Yeah CJ set off the fire detector by trying to steam his suit so the major and the fireman came.
Me: Did you guys get in trouble?
Friend: No actually it was good that he came because there were no towels in the gite so we asked him for some.
Me: Oh.
Friend: Everyone owes you 4 more euros.
Me: What’s wrong with your oldest daughter?
Sister: She drank alcoholic punch.
Me: What????
Sister: We thought it was orange juice.
Me: How much did she drink?
Sister: Half a glass.
Me: Oh....
Sister: It’s fine I made her puke it out. Sorry gotta go breastfeed.
Me: [turning to friend] My 6 year old niece drank half a glass of alcoholic punch.
Friend: Does she want a cigarette?
Me: What?
Friend: Yeah CJ set off the fire detector by trying to steam his suit so the major and the fireman came.
Me: Did you guys get in trouble?
Friend: No actually it was good that he came because there were no towels in the gite so we asked him for some.
Me: Oh.
Friend: Everyone owes you 4 more euros.
Me: What’s wrong with your oldest daughter?
Sister: She drank alcoholic punch.
Me: What????
Sister: We thought it was orange juice.
Me: How much did she drink?
Sister: Half a glass.
Me: Oh....
Sister: It’s fine I made her puke it out. Sorry gotta go breastfeed.
Me: [turning to friend] My 6 year old niece drank half a glass of alcoholic punch.
Friend: Does she want a cigarette?
Thursday, August 30, 2012
The ceremony
So in the bible it was stated that we would do a rehearsal of the ceremony after picnic in the park day of the town hall wedding. But it rained effectively ending the picnic and any hope I had for a rehearsal.
The provisional rehearsal scheduled Saturday before lunch ended up involving only 5 people who acted as representatives for the 15 that were actually in the ceremony. So yeah I was a little apprehensive as to how it was going to go down seeing how it was a Vietnamese/American ceremony that I made up.
We arrived at the venue and joined the wedding party in the reception area where they were hiding out from the guests. My sister in law handed me my gorgeous bouquet (I had delegated) and we were ready to start. My flower girls were all crying.
I put everyone in order for the processional. Flower girls were still crying, big giant tears.
Me: Should I take them out of the ceremony?
Sister: Let’s try to give them the baskets.
Us: Look, baskets! [said in a voice like they were the most magically thing in the world]
Nieces: [Takes baskets. Realizes they are just baskets. Cries harder]
Us: Look, flowers. Ooohhhh ahhhh.
Nieces: [Pauses to look]
Sister: [Sees her chance] Ok let’s go.
My sister with all her experience realized that during the distraction they could be moved at which point they would be too busy/confused in the shuffle to cry. But the still had to stand and wait for their turn to walk down the aisle, at which point it was anybody’s guess what they would do. Which way was it going to go?
Somewhere between the end of the world meltdown in the reception area and the end of the aisle they decided that they would be the best and most adorable flower girls in the world, gracefully paving the aisle with rose petals and effectively stealing the show.
Even though everyone at this point was like “the bride who” I followed and was instantly overwhelmed with happiness to see everyone through different parts of my life, together in one place, looking at me with my parents by my side.
We reached my husband who was waiting and smiling. There in front of all our guests we stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was me waiting for the music to change to start the Vietnamese ceremony and him wondering what I was waiting for. After about 5 minutes I said loudly “They have to change the music!”
Um no, they didn’t this had already been done when I walked down the aisle, like I had wanted. So yes I was the first person to make a mistake in a ceremony of my own creation.
On and forwards, I directed my parents to offer me gifts (pearls and a check). In keeping with the Vietnamese tradition husband and I offered them wine as thanks. I watched as my mother tried to down the entire glass. I gently pried the glass from her hands and told her she didn’t have to finish it. I looked over at my dad, who had finished the entire glass. Luckily the next step for them was to sit down.
We repeated this exercise with my parents in law and then had an American style exchange of vows and rings.
Husband and I then stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was us waiting for our maitress of ceremony to present us as a married couple, which also happened to be the dj cue to play the exit music. Two mental eye communications and a whispering nudge later, she said what was needed, the music played, and we walked away happy to have pulled it off.
The provisional rehearsal scheduled Saturday before lunch ended up involving only 5 people who acted as representatives for the 15 that were actually in the ceremony. So yeah I was a little apprehensive as to how it was going to go down seeing how it was a Vietnamese/American ceremony that I made up.
We arrived at the venue and joined the wedding party in the reception area where they were hiding out from the guests. My sister in law handed me my gorgeous bouquet (I had delegated) and we were ready to start. My flower girls were all crying.
I put everyone in order for the processional. Flower girls were still crying, big giant tears.
Me: Should I take them out of the ceremony?
Sister: Let’s try to give them the baskets.
Us: Look, baskets! [said in a voice like they were the most magically thing in the world]
Nieces: [Takes baskets. Realizes they are just baskets. Cries harder]
Us: Look, flowers. Ooohhhh ahhhh.
Nieces: [Pauses to look]
Sister: [Sees her chance] Ok let’s go.
My sister with all her experience realized that during the distraction they could be moved at which point they would be too busy/confused in the shuffle to cry. But the still had to stand and wait for their turn to walk down the aisle, at which point it was anybody’s guess what they would do. Which way was it going to go?
Somewhere between the end of the world meltdown in the reception area and the end of the aisle they decided that they would be the best and most adorable flower girls in the world, gracefully paving the aisle with rose petals and effectively stealing the show.
Even though everyone at this point was like “the bride who” I followed and was instantly overwhelmed with happiness to see everyone through different parts of my life, together in one place, looking at me with my parents by my side.
We reached my husband who was waiting and smiling. There in front of all our guests we stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was me waiting for the music to change to start the Vietnamese ceremony and him wondering what I was waiting for. After about 5 minutes I said loudly “They have to change the music!”
Um no, they didn’t this had already been done when I walked down the aisle, like I had wanted. So yes I was the first person to make a mistake in a ceremony of my own creation.
On and forwards, I directed my parents to offer me gifts (pearls and a check). In keeping with the Vietnamese tradition husband and I offered them wine as thanks. I watched as my mother tried to down the entire glass. I gently pried the glass from her hands and told her she didn’t have to finish it. I looked over at my dad, who had finished the entire glass. Luckily the next step for them was to sit down.
We repeated this exercise with my parents in law and then had an American style exchange of vows and rings.
Husband and I then stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was us waiting for our maitress of ceremony to present us as a married couple, which also happened to be the dj cue to play the exit music. Two mental eye communications and a whispering nudge later, she said what was needed, the music played, and we walked away happy to have pulled it off.
Monday, August 27, 2012
getting ready
So if you’re wondering how I managed to keep everything straight, I had developed a detailed schedule with the names of everyone and what they were supposed to be doing at what time and put this schedule in a multipage folder nicknamed “the bible”. Anytime anyone had any doubt or wanted to exercise free will I referred to the bible (or suggested they consult the version I had printed out for them).
According to the bible, my old college roommate was to start my makeup at 2pm after having finished my sister’s hair and makeup. I went into my parent’s room (whom I had kicked out due to the groom cannot see bride before wedding rule) to finally sit down and relax. It was not to be as I realized my college roommate had not even seen my sister. I went to her room to find her… asleep.
Visions of her uncombed hair at townhall danced across my mind. I woke her up. Do you want your hair and makeup done? Ok, she said and got up. I lead her to my parent’s room.
She needs to shower, my old college roommate informed me. I looked at my sister who, at this point hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for 4 days and was simply reacting to external stimuli.
But no time to worry because I myself had to shower except I didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. I had been so pre-occupied with not forgetting anything related to the wedding that I forgot daily essentials such as basic hygiene products and cell phone chargers.
Not to worry as best old roommate ever had it covered and I got myself showered and into the chair so she could make me look my best which would apparently take 2 hours.
It was great, I was glued to the chair and couldn’t move to help someone or check on something even if I wanted to. But I could take the numerous phone calls I got from husband.
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So there was a storm when I was getting ready.
Me: Uh huh.
Friend. Ok look up.
Husband: But I think it’s over.
Friend: Look at me.
Me: Uh huh.
Husband: I’m going to call the venue to get their opinion.
Me: Ok.
Friend: Look down.
15 minutes later:
[Phone rings]
Friend: No don’t move.
Me: Ok
[Phone rings]
Friend: Ok you can answer.
Me: Hello?
Husband: So I called the venue they said it’s up to us.
Me: Ok
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So what should we do?
Me: Have it inside?
Friend: Don’t open your eyes!
Husband: …
Me: Sorry.
Husband: You’re apologizing does this mean you’re not sure?
Me: No, not you.
Husband: Oh.
Me: I don’t have a raincoat that goes with this dress.
Husband: I’ll call you back.
And so on and so forth. In the end he decided to risk it. But I didn’t have time to worry about it as I had to get into my dress. My mother offered to help except this was what my mother was doing and the order of her doing it:
1. Trying to iron her scarf with a hair straightener
2. Getting dressed
3. Putting on red nail polish
Number 3 rendered her absolutely useless in doing anything except trying to get out of the way of pictures the photographer was trying to take of her and apologizing for getting in his way.
At this point it’s 4:30 and we were half an hour behind schedule. Husband called to see where we were and to tell me that it was partly cloudy.
I tried to hussle everyone out of the room and downstairs, but small tasks such as opening the door proved difficult due to the fact that my movements were restricted by giant dress and opened luggage scattered across the floor. My mother was unable to open the door least she mess up her drying red nail polish. My dad neither as he is holding my 2 month old niece. Old college roommate, aka superwoman, springs into action showing me to hold my long train, opened the door, took the baby from my dad, and leads everyone downstairs.
Except for me who is left standing at t he top of the stairs in the dark, in a giant dress and ambitious shoes, train in one hand, bag with bible and wedding flip fops in the other looking down at a windy staircase.
I considered my options when husband calls to inform me it’s now cloudy. I ask if he could call his mother [the only one with a cell phone] to come and help me.
Ten minutes later and still no mother in law, I changed into wedding flip flops prematurely to try to make it down on my own when mother in law finally shows up. She helped me down and out of the hotel where I am welcomed by the sound of crying children.
No time to worry as I had to get in the car and to the venue and waiting guests.
According to the bible, my old college roommate was to start my makeup at 2pm after having finished my sister’s hair and makeup. I went into my parent’s room (whom I had kicked out due to the groom cannot see bride before wedding rule) to finally sit down and relax. It was not to be as I realized my college roommate had not even seen my sister. I went to her room to find her… asleep.
Visions of her uncombed hair at townhall danced across my mind. I woke her up. Do you want your hair and makeup done? Ok, she said and got up. I lead her to my parent’s room.
She needs to shower, my old college roommate informed me. I looked at my sister who, at this point hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for 4 days and was simply reacting to external stimuli.
But no time to worry because I myself had to shower except I didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. I had been so pre-occupied with not forgetting anything related to the wedding that I forgot daily essentials such as basic hygiene products and cell phone chargers.
Not to worry as best old roommate ever had it covered and I got myself showered and into the chair so she could make me look my best which would apparently take 2 hours.
It was great, I was glued to the chair and couldn’t move to help someone or check on something even if I wanted to. But I could take the numerous phone calls I got from husband.
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So there was a storm when I was getting ready.
Me: Uh huh.
Friend. Ok look up.
Husband: But I think it’s over.
Friend: Look at me.
Me: Uh huh.
Husband: I’m going to call the venue to get their opinion.
Me: Ok.
Friend: Look down.
15 minutes later:
[Phone rings]
Friend: No don’t move.
Me: Ok
[Phone rings]
Friend: Ok you can answer.
Me: Hello?
Husband: So I called the venue they said it’s up to us.
Me: Ok
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So what should we do?
Me: Have it inside?
Friend: Don’t open your eyes!
Husband: …
Me: Sorry.
Husband: You’re apologizing does this mean you’re not sure?
Me: No, not you.
Husband: Oh.
Me: I don’t have a raincoat that goes with this dress.
Husband: I’ll call you back.
And so on and so forth. In the end he decided to risk it. But I didn’t have time to worry about it as I had to get into my dress. My mother offered to help except this was what my mother was doing and the order of her doing it:
1. Trying to iron her scarf with a hair straightener
2. Getting dressed
3. Putting on red nail polish
Number 3 rendered her absolutely useless in doing anything except trying to get out of the way of pictures the photographer was trying to take of her and apologizing for getting in his way.
At this point it’s 4:30 and we were half an hour behind schedule. Husband called to see where we were and to tell me that it was partly cloudy.
I tried to hussle everyone out of the room and downstairs, but small tasks such as opening the door proved difficult due to the fact that my movements were restricted by giant dress and opened luggage scattered across the floor. My mother was unable to open the door least she mess up her drying red nail polish. My dad neither as he is holding my 2 month old niece. Old college roommate, aka superwoman, springs into action showing me to hold my long train, opened the door, took the baby from my dad, and leads everyone downstairs.
Except for me who is left standing at t he top of the stairs in the dark, in a giant dress and ambitious shoes, train in one hand, bag with bible and wedding flip fops in the other looking down at a windy staircase.
I considered my options when husband calls to inform me it’s now cloudy. I ask if he could call his mother [the only one with a cell phone] to come and help me.
Ten minutes later and still no mother in law, I changed into wedding flip flops prematurely to try to make it down on my own when mother in law finally shows up. She helped me down and out of the hotel where I am welcomed by the sound of crying children.
No time to worry as I had to get in the car and to the venue and waiting guests.
Friday, August 24, 2012
that morning
So despite the ceremony not being until 5pm, we had to get up bright and early to do all the behind the scenes stuff. First thing we did, of course, was check the weather.
See, we had gambled. We had chosen to have the ceremony outside in the remote countryside in Normandy. Rain in the countryside with fancy shoes is no fun. We had also invested money and dedicated a good portion of the evening to releasing wish lanterns into a rainless night sky. Average rainfall in Normandy is 27 inches. Average in London is 29.
Me: So?
Husband: It’s supposed to be like yesterday
Me: You mean sunny in the morning then violent storm at 5pm the exact time of our ceremony?
Husband: That’s what it says.
Me: Maybe we should think about a plan B.
But we didn’t have time to think because we had to get the key to the gite the guests were staying at. As we did the inspection I wondered to myself if this was the kind of gite with towels. I tried to remember what I had communicated to guests.
But it was on to the next thing which was to do last minute preparations for the reception. Armed with a giant board, nails, hammer, and string to put together the table placement sign, I stood and directed father in law as he put up the board. But that’s as far as he got as he had to go to the train station to pick up the first wave of guests. Mother-in-law and I were left to do the job. Husband told me to keep an eye on my phone because he would surely be contacting us.
About 10 minutes later my phone dies and this wouldn’t have been a big deal had I not left my charger back in Paris. On the off chance I asked my mother in law if she had her charger (we have the same phone). She doubted it but because everyone will humor a stressed bride she looked in her purse and, miraculously, had it!
We shared a moment of amusement but not for long as there were things to mount and both of us had only theoretical knowledge of hammer hitting. We got it done, but flimsy would be the word to describe the result. But no time to worry as it was on to the next thing which was to have lunch.
We arrived back at the hotel to join our families who had had a leisurely morning sleeping in or walking around the premises. By the time I grouped and seated everyone I looked at the time. 1:00pm. Groom side had to leave at 3:00. I casually mentioned that there were sandwiches for those who thought maybe they would need more than one hour to get ready. They went like hotcakes. My mind went back to a week earlier when we had ordered the sandwiches for the gite guests in which husband and I had one of our typical Americans vs. French conversations.
Me: Maybe we should get some extra sandwiches for us on Saturday
Husband: Why? We can eat at the hotel.
Me: Yeah but we’ll be really busy.
Husband: Ceremony starts at 5. We have time.
Me: …
Husband: It’s our wedding day, we can have a nice lunch.
Me: Let’s just get extra sandwiches. Just in case.
I too was supposed to be sandwich eater as I was meant to accompany my parents in law to pick up the next wave of guests coming into the train station. But they insisted I stay and have a nice lunch replacing me instead with a napkin with something like “Hello, come with us Orange wedding” written on it.
Concerned but at this point exhausted from keeping everyone on schedule I did what I was told and had a lunch consisting of tactfully hurrying along 10 people and trying to make conversation with the only two French people remaining who happened to be teenagers who didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak English, and had wanted to be sandwiches eaters but were forced to stay due to lack of enough sandwiches.
See, we had gambled. We had chosen to have the ceremony outside in the remote countryside in Normandy. Rain in the countryside with fancy shoes is no fun. We had also invested money and dedicated a good portion of the evening to releasing wish lanterns into a rainless night sky. Average rainfall in Normandy is 27 inches. Average in London is 29.
Me: So?
Husband: It’s supposed to be like yesterday
Me: You mean sunny in the morning then violent storm at 5pm the exact time of our ceremony?
Husband: That’s what it says.
Me: Maybe we should think about a plan B.
But we didn’t have time to think because we had to get the key to the gite the guests were staying at. As we did the inspection I wondered to myself if this was the kind of gite with towels. I tried to remember what I had communicated to guests.
But it was on to the next thing which was to do last minute preparations for the reception. Armed with a giant board, nails, hammer, and string to put together the table placement sign, I stood and directed father in law as he put up the board. But that’s as far as he got as he had to go to the train station to pick up the first wave of guests. Mother-in-law and I were left to do the job. Husband told me to keep an eye on my phone because he would surely be contacting us.
About 10 minutes later my phone dies and this wouldn’t have been a big deal had I not left my charger back in Paris. On the off chance I asked my mother in law if she had her charger (we have the same phone). She doubted it but because everyone will humor a stressed bride she looked in her purse and, miraculously, had it!
We shared a moment of amusement but not for long as there were things to mount and both of us had only theoretical knowledge of hammer hitting. We got it done, but flimsy would be the word to describe the result. But no time to worry as it was on to the next thing which was to have lunch.
We arrived back at the hotel to join our families who had had a leisurely morning sleeping in or walking around the premises. By the time I grouped and seated everyone I looked at the time. 1:00pm. Groom side had to leave at 3:00. I casually mentioned that there were sandwiches for those who thought maybe they would need more than one hour to get ready. They went like hotcakes. My mind went back to a week earlier when we had ordered the sandwiches for the gite guests in which husband and I had one of our typical Americans vs. French conversations.
Me: Maybe we should get some extra sandwiches for us on Saturday
Husband: Why? We can eat at the hotel.
Me: Yeah but we’ll be really busy.
Husband: Ceremony starts at 5. We have time.
Me: …
Husband: It’s our wedding day, we can have a nice lunch.
Me: Let’s just get extra sandwiches. Just in case.
I too was supposed to be sandwich eater as I was meant to accompany my parents in law to pick up the next wave of guests coming into the train station. But they insisted I stay and have a nice lunch replacing me instead with a napkin with something like “Hello, come with us Orange wedding” written on it.
Concerned but at this point exhausted from keeping everyone on schedule I did what I was told and had a lunch consisting of tactfully hurrying along 10 people and trying to make conversation with the only two French people remaining who happened to be teenagers who didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak English, and had wanted to be sandwiches eaters but were forced to stay due to lack of enough sandwiches.
Monday, August 20, 2012
mairie(d)
So after finally getting the kids and themselves to bed Thursday night my family was promptly woken up at next morning so they could attend the town hall ceremony. Not by me of course, a good bride knows to delegate the dirty work.
Friend: I don’t get it, what am I suppose to do?
Me: Go to the hotel and make sure everyone gets in the car to go to town hall.
Friend: If they are going from the lobby to the car, I don't know what I can do to help facilitate.
Me: I need you there. Just in case.
Friend: In case... of… what?
Me: Just in case.
When soon to be husband and I got to town hall we saw that some people had already arrived. Our families were not amongst them. Stbh pulled out his cell phone while I greeted everyone.
10 minutes before our appointment time there was still no sign of our families or friends sent to help them. I turned to sobh with panicked eyes. They’re coming he reassured me. I was not reassured, until finally I saw my friends approaching town hall.
Me: Was it ok?
Friend 1: [Eyes of someone who just survived a traumatic event] It was not ok.
Me: Why what happened?
Friend 1: Nobody was ready. Except the Japanese couple.
Me: Oh.
Friend 1: We called and called and nobodypicked up.
Me: Oh.
Friend 2: They had so many bags!!! [Sweat pouring down her face]
But alas I didn’t have time to get the details because I had to, you know, get married. Later my brother filled me in. He was staying at my apartment and I had sent him that same morning to help out.
He got there thinking everyone will be up and ready to check out. He instead saw my sister trying to put pants on her 2 year old daughter. He decided to take charge:
Brother:Why isn’t anyone ready?
Sister:[stares at him with the look of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and is fighting to put pants on a 2 year old and losing]
Brother: Ok, ok, it’s cool.
After everyone is finally ready and fully dressed, my mother decides, 10 minutes before leaving, that the shirts that my father and brother were currently wearing needed ironing. Even if this involved my dad going downstairs to ask for an iron and everyone taking off their shirts.
So that is why nobody was ready. Why didn’t they answer the phone? My sister had taken the phones off the hook because it had become a toy for the girls and she was afraid they would dial the police or China.
But in the end everyone made it and into their respective seats for the town hall ceremony. Relieved I turned to look at, my sister seated next to me on my wedding day:
Me: Did you comb your hair?
Sister: [stare of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and, as I was told later, had put on makeup for the occasion]
Me Ok,ok, it’s cool.
Friend: I don’t get it, what am I suppose to do?
Me: Go to the hotel and make sure everyone gets in the car to go to town hall.
Friend: If they are going from the lobby to the car, I don't know what I can do to help facilitate.
Me: I need you there. Just in case.
Friend: In case... of… what?
Me: Just in case.
When soon to be husband and I got to town hall we saw that some people had already arrived. Our families were not amongst them. Stbh pulled out his cell phone while I greeted everyone.
10 minutes before our appointment time there was still no sign of our families or friends sent to help them. I turned to sobh with panicked eyes. They’re coming he reassured me. I was not reassured, until finally I saw my friends approaching town hall.
Me: Was it ok?
Friend 1: [Eyes of someone who just survived a traumatic event] It was not ok.
Me: Why what happened?
Friend 1: Nobody was ready. Except the Japanese couple.
Me: Oh.
Friend 1: We called and called and nobodypicked up.
Me: Oh.
Friend 2: They had so many bags!!! [Sweat pouring down her face]
But alas I didn’t have time to get the details because I had to, you know, get married. Later my brother filled me in. He was staying at my apartment and I had sent him that same morning to help out.
He got there thinking everyone will be up and ready to check out. He instead saw my sister trying to put pants on her 2 year old daughter. He decided to take charge:
Brother:Why isn’t anyone ready?
Sister:[stares at him with the look of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and is fighting to put pants on a 2 year old and losing]
Brother: Ok, ok, it’s cool.
After everyone is finally ready and fully dressed, my mother decides, 10 minutes before leaving, that the shirts that my father and brother were currently wearing needed ironing. Even if this involved my dad going downstairs to ask for an iron and everyone taking off their shirts.
So that is why nobody was ready. Why didn’t they answer the phone? My sister had taken the phones off the hook because it had become a toy for the girls and she was afraid they would dial the police or China.
But in the end everyone made it and into their respective seats for the town hall ceremony. Relieved I turned to look at, my sister seated next to me on my wedding day:
Me: Did you comb your hair?
Sister: [stare of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and, as I was told later, had put on makeup for the occasion]
Me Ok,ok, it’s cool.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
A bride, 3 nieces, and a baby
So I took a week off before the wedding to do some last minute stuff and to welcome people coming into Paris, including my sister, her husband, their 3 little girls and a baby. That’s right.
Let’s go back a year to September 2011 to this conversation:
Sister: I’m pregnant
Me: [what about the wedding?!!!!] Congratulations!!!!
Sister: Thanks
Me: [A baby is good news... a baby is good news... a baby is good news...] Great news!
Sister: Yearh
Me: So… when are you due?
Sister: End of May
Me: [what about the wedding in August?????] Aw, that’s great.
The above is the reason why I did not know if my sister, my matron of honor, was in fact coming to the wedding and the reason why my family did not book their flight to Paris until about one month before. There were ideas about bribing uncles to come along as full time au pairs, other ideas about only bringings ome of the children, and then of course there was my fear that nobody would come at all. But in the end it was decided that everyone was coming.
I quickly sprang into action looking for things like car booster seats and making other needed arrangements to accommodate 5 adults, 3 kids, and a baby.
So finally they arrived one day before town hall wedding and I went to the airport to pick everyone up. The sleep deprived adults emerged first pushing carts with mounds of baggage topped with sleepy/unhappy/crying children. I quickly ushered them into the rented minivan and to their hotel room.
I left them to sleep and meet some friends coming in that needed briefing on their role in the wedding. Only when I got to the friend’s hotel room they hadn’t checked in yet even though it was now 3 hours after their flight got in. Concerned I sat and waited when my phone rang. Thinking it was my friends I answered. It was instead, my sister.
Sister: Whatcha doing?
Me: Waiting for some friends, what’s up?
Sister: Um. Husband is passed out but kids are awake. All 4 of them. It’s kind of... hard.
Me: Oh
Sister: I just thought if you weren’t doing anything…
Me: Well…
Sister: Cause you know I haven’t slept in 2 days.
Me: Ok
Sister: And the girls have strep.
Me: Ok.
I left a message for my friends and headed back to the hotel room where the zombie that replaced my sister answered the door. I quickly took over and played with the girls as my sister lied down for a nap.
As I am entertaining two of the four, I see one of them inch towards my sister.
Me: Hey, come here what do you need?
Niece: I want to tell Mommy something
Me: You can tell me.
Niece: [looking reluctant]
Me: It’s ok, you can tell me and after we can tell Mommy when she wakes up from her nap, ok?
Niece: I poo-ed in my pants.
Me: Oh.
But it’s cool, I’ve dealt with niece poo before, I got this. But I didn’t have to. Why? Because my sister hears this after not having slept for 2 day, gets up, and says, I kid you not, don’t worry Kelly I got it.
I do believe in love.
Let’s go back a year to September 2011 to this conversation:
Sister: I’m pregnant
Me: [what about the wedding?!!!!] Congratulations!!!!
Sister: Thanks
Me: [A baby is good news... a baby is good news... a baby is good news...] Great news!
Sister: Yearh
Me: So… when are you due?
Sister: End of May
Me: [what about the wedding in August?????] Aw, that’s great.
The above is the reason why I did not know if my sister, my matron of honor, was in fact coming to the wedding and the reason why my family did not book their flight to Paris until about one month before. There were ideas about bribing uncles to come along as full time au pairs, other ideas about only bringings ome of the children, and then of course there was my fear that nobody would come at all. But in the end it was decided that everyone was coming.
I quickly sprang into action looking for things like car booster seats and making other needed arrangements to accommodate 5 adults, 3 kids, and a baby.
So finally they arrived one day before town hall wedding and I went to the airport to pick everyone up. The sleep deprived adults emerged first pushing carts with mounds of baggage topped with sleepy/unhappy/crying children. I quickly ushered them into the rented minivan and to their hotel room.
I left them to sleep and meet some friends coming in that needed briefing on their role in the wedding. Only when I got to the friend’s hotel room they hadn’t checked in yet even though it was now 3 hours after their flight got in. Concerned I sat and waited when my phone rang. Thinking it was my friends I answered. It was instead, my sister.
Sister: Whatcha doing?
Me: Waiting for some friends, what’s up?
Sister: Um. Husband is passed out but kids are awake. All 4 of them. It’s kind of... hard.
Me: Oh
Sister: I just thought if you weren’t doing anything…
Me: Well…
Sister: Cause you know I haven’t slept in 2 days.
Me: Ok
Sister: And the girls have strep.
Me: Ok.
I left a message for my friends and headed back to the hotel room where the zombie that replaced my sister answered the door. I quickly took over and played with the girls as my sister lied down for a nap.
As I am entertaining two of the four, I see one of them inch towards my sister.
Me: Hey, come here what do you need?
Niece: I want to tell Mommy something
Me: You can tell me.
Niece: [looking reluctant]
Me: It’s ok, you can tell me and after we can tell Mommy when she wakes up from her nap, ok?
Niece: I poo-ed in my pants.
Me: Oh.
But it’s cool, I’ve dealt with niece poo before, I got this. But I didn’t have to. Why? Because my sister hears this after not having slept for 2 day, gets up, and says, I kid you not, don’t worry Kelly I got it.
I do believe in love.
Friday, August 17, 2012
say yes to the dress
So some London friends of mine came down to Paris to help me pick out a wedding dress. After a disappointing botched appointment (the place I called turned out not to be the one I wanted) we finally made it to a cute second hand boutique where the lady delicately laid out dresses I had requested to try.
The first on the list I had high hopes for because it was 1. new and not used and 2. cost 300 Euros. I tried it on and crossed my fingers.
My friends loved it. I mentally checked off dress on the list of things to do.
But because trying on pretty dresses and having people ohhhh and ahhhh at you is so much fun we decided to try on all the dresses. From mermaid to long train, I tried it all.
Then we got to the last dress which was one that I thought would be just fun to try on mostly because it looked like a ballerina dress mullet in the picture; short tulle in the front and long fabric in the back. But in reality the tulle was floor length with a long fabric train.
Anywho I tried it on and that’s when dilemma struck. I loved it. The silhouette was unique, asymmetrical neckline with a low waist. An added bonus was the drawstring back giving endless eating potential. The other dress I would have to eat and suck. This dress would do the work for me.
This dress also cost twice the price of the other dress.
I turned to my friends for guidance. They were also torn. Did I want white or ivory? New or used? Simple or drama? Dress or dress and iphone?
As we woooed and hummed, one of my friends starts putting something on my wrist. I know you won’t like it Kelly , she said, but I just can’t make out what it is and I just want to see what it looks like.
I looked down and there, sitting on my wrist was this amazing golden wire crystal cuff bracelet that went with this dress and this dress only.
I bought the dress. Or at least I tried to. I had brought my checkbook but they wanted id (duh) which was sitting in my apartment 45 metro minutes away. I tried to use my bankcard but because it was the end of the month I was past my monthly limit.
ATM? Tried it but the price surpassed my daily limit.
In the end, the three of us fully employed women scrounged together money like college students trying to buy pizza and came up with the right amount.
I have the best friends.
The first on the list I had high hopes for because it was 1. new and not used and 2. cost 300 Euros. I tried it on and crossed my fingers.
My friends loved it. I mentally checked off dress on the list of things to do.
But because trying on pretty dresses and having people ohhhh and ahhhh at you is so much fun we decided to try on all the dresses. From mermaid to long train, I tried it all.
Then we got to the last dress which was one that I thought would be just fun to try on mostly because it looked like a ballerina dress mullet in the picture; short tulle in the front and long fabric in the back. But in reality the tulle was floor length with a long fabric train.
Anywho I tried it on and that’s when dilemma struck. I loved it. The silhouette was unique, asymmetrical neckline with a low waist. An added bonus was the drawstring back giving endless eating potential. The other dress I would have to eat and suck. This dress would do the work for me.
This dress also cost twice the price of the other dress.
I turned to my friends for guidance. They were also torn. Did I want white or ivory? New or used? Simple or drama? Dress or dress and iphone?
As we woooed and hummed, one of my friends starts putting something on my wrist. I know you won’t like it Kelly , she said, but I just can’t make out what it is and I just want to see what it looks like.
I looked down and there, sitting on my wrist was this amazing golden wire crystal cuff bracelet that went with this dress and this dress only.
I bought the dress. Or at least I tried to. I had brought my checkbook but they wanted id (duh) which was sitting in my apartment 45 metro minutes away. I tried to use my bankcard but because it was the end of the month I was past my monthly limit.
ATM? Tried it but the price surpassed my daily limit.
In the end, the three of us fully employed women scrounged together money like college students trying to buy pizza and came up with the right amount.
I have the best friends.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
do you believe in love?
So in France they have this thing about official documents expiring. Every time I submit a document it has to be dated less than x number of months. And birth certificates are no exceptions.
I too was surprised when I presented my actual birth certificate to town hall and they politely turned it away asking instead for an official copy dated less than 6 months.
Me: How am I supposed to get that?
Lady: From the place that issued it in the first place [said in a matter of fact kind of way]
Me: You mean, in Vietnam.
Lady: Yes
Me: [bright idea to play the war card]. But I escaped when I was 5 due to the WAR.
Lady: [confused look on her face]
BF: She means war
I had apparently reduced the impact of the word war by mispronouncing it and saying instead train station. But not like it made a difference as the woman remained stonefaced.
So I called my parents to see if they could in fact procure this copy for me. I then spent 45 minutes explaining to my father why I needed this, which is in fact very hard since I myself did not understand why I needed it. The only thing I managed to convince my dad was that I should get married in the States.
The next day I called the Vietnamese embassy in Paris to see if they could do something for me since this must happen to a lot of Vietnamese people who want to get married in France. After convincing the lady that I was not, in fact, interested in a holiday Vietnam visa, I explained my situation and asked if she could help me. Sorry she said, they could only issue copies of birth certificates for French citizens but if I wanted a Vietnam holiday visa she would be more than happy to help me.
Then I got a call from my mom that went something like this:
Mom: I heard you need a copy of your birth certificate to get married in France. Why can’t you use the original?
[10 minutes of explaining]
Me. Yeah but don’t worry I think I’m just going to call the Vietnam embassy in the States.
Mom: No don’t do that, they’re shady.
Me: What do you mean… shady?
Mom: I’ve heard bad things about them.
Me: Uh, I’m sure it’s fine.
Mom: No, don’t worry I have contacts in Vietnam. They know people who say they could get it.
Me: What… people?
Mom: Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.
About 4 months go by without word from these “people” when I realized that all the other papers I got from the U.S. embassy were going to expire like bad milk. Desperate I went to the US embassy to explain my problem hoping they could do something. I even had a speech prepared that begin with “Do you believe in love” and ended with “which means I’ve been doing this for 5 months”. I was also prepared to cry.
They were understanding and printed out a form titled “Birth certificate affidavit” that I myself filled out, got it stamped, paid my 50 bucks and left happy with at least something.
That night 50 dollar poorer yet happy and full of joy, I put together our dossier with all the papers we needed when I realized that I could not in fact submit the dossier because of a small problem.
All of bf’s papers had expired!
I then took a very, very long nap.
When bf finally got around to getting his documents (again) we submitted our dossier only to be told that the 50 dollar affidavit did not in fact cut it, and that they would have to launch an international inquiry.
Us: How long would this take?
Guy: Maybe a year.
Us: But we already booked and paid for the venue and people have already booked and paid for their tickets to come to France.
Guy: [audible shrug]
Us: Do you believe in love…?
That night I called my sister for sympathy.
Sister: You mean I’m shleping my husband, 3 kids and a baby to France for a symbolic ceremony?
Me: …um. Do you believe in love?
One month before the date of our pretend wedding bf calls me to tell me our dossier had been accepted. Nobody knows what happed to the international inquiry.
I too was surprised when I presented my actual birth certificate to town hall and they politely turned it away asking instead for an official copy dated less than 6 months.
Me: How am I supposed to get that?
Lady: From the place that issued it in the first place [said in a matter of fact kind of way]
Me: You mean, in Vietnam.
Lady: Yes
Me: [bright idea to play the war card]. But I escaped when I was 5 due to the WAR.
Lady: [confused look on her face]
BF: She means war
I had apparently reduced the impact of the word war by mispronouncing it and saying instead train station. But not like it made a difference as the woman remained stonefaced.
So I called my parents to see if they could in fact procure this copy for me. I then spent 45 minutes explaining to my father why I needed this, which is in fact very hard since I myself did not understand why I needed it. The only thing I managed to convince my dad was that I should get married in the States.
The next day I called the Vietnamese embassy in Paris to see if they could do something for me since this must happen to a lot of Vietnamese people who want to get married in France. After convincing the lady that I was not, in fact, interested in a holiday Vietnam visa, I explained my situation and asked if she could help me. Sorry she said, they could only issue copies of birth certificates for French citizens but if I wanted a Vietnam holiday visa she would be more than happy to help me.
Then I got a call from my mom that went something like this:
Mom: I heard you need a copy of your birth certificate to get married in France. Why can’t you use the original?
[10 minutes of explaining]
Me. Yeah but don’t worry I think I’m just going to call the Vietnam embassy in the States.
Mom: No don’t do that, they’re shady.
Me: What do you mean… shady?
Mom: I’ve heard bad things about them.
Me: Uh, I’m sure it’s fine.
Mom: No, don’t worry I have contacts in Vietnam. They know people who say they could get it.
Me: What… people?
Mom: Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.
About 4 months go by without word from these “people” when I realized that all the other papers I got from the U.S. embassy were going to expire like bad milk. Desperate I went to the US embassy to explain my problem hoping they could do something. I even had a speech prepared that begin with “Do you believe in love” and ended with “which means I’ve been doing this for 5 months”. I was also prepared to cry.
They were understanding and printed out a form titled “Birth certificate affidavit” that I myself filled out, got it stamped, paid my 50 bucks and left happy with at least something.
That night 50 dollar poorer yet happy and full of joy, I put together our dossier with all the papers we needed when I realized that I could not in fact submit the dossier because of a small problem.
All of bf’s papers had expired!
I then took a very, very long nap.
When bf finally got around to getting his documents (again) we submitted our dossier only to be told that the 50 dollar affidavit did not in fact cut it, and that they would have to launch an international inquiry.
Us: How long would this take?
Guy: Maybe a year.
Us: But we already booked and paid for the venue and people have already booked and paid for their tickets to come to France.
Guy: [audible shrug]
Us: Do you believe in love…?
That night I called my sister for sympathy.
Sister: You mean I’m shleping my husband, 3 kids and a baby to France for a symbolic ceremony?
Me: …um. Do you believe in love?
One month before the date of our pretend wedding bf calls me to tell me our dossier had been accepted. Nobody knows what happed to the international inquiry.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Passport
So I had to renew my passport the other day which means that I took my first trip abroad 10 years ago. The trip was to Vietnam with my sister after I graduated from University. The front cover still has the faded sticker with my name written on it put on there by the authority that gave me my Vietnam visa dated 2002 on page 9.
On page 11 is my Japan visa dated 2003. Category: Instructor. Remarks: JET Program. Page 18 contains the China visa dated 2005 marking the beginning of 5 months of backpacking. A second Vietnam Visa on page 19. Cambodia visa page 21, hand written and given directly on the Mekong River from Vietnam to Cambodia. Issue date: 28/09/2005. Supplemental pages begins on page A marked with the department of state seal followed by India Visa on page C. Sydney stamp 24 Nov 2005 on page D marking the beginning of the end of 5 months of travel.
Page F, France visa 2008. Page K, second visa to China 2010 needed for a trip to Asia with my now fiancé. The trip was for a wedding in Taiwan for a friend from University in the States. On the same trip I saw a friend from D.C. (now living in China), a friend I met in Japan (now living in Hong Kong), and a friend from France (doing an internship in Malaysia at the time). All these people from a different time and place in my life somehow tied together on one trip to Asia. Life can be surprising.
In order to renew my passport by mail I have to mail in the old one. Although you get the old passport back I had a hard time risking losing this passport. There, through all the pages were tangent remains of my life for the past 10 years. It was hard to let go.
Sometimes we don’t feel the time pass.I recently went to NYC for my bachelorette party and threre was a moment where I looked around at the girls that I have now known for at least 10 years. I remember who they were then, see who they are now and can’t help but marvel at how far we all have come.
Before sending in my passport I had one last look at the picture of me age 22. My hair is tied back as it always was back then and I’m wearing a grey tank top I nicked from my little brother. Even though it’s not in the picture I’m pretty sure I’m wearing running pants to match.
Yes we’ve all come a long way.
On page 11 is my Japan visa dated 2003. Category: Instructor. Remarks: JET Program. Page 18 contains the China visa dated 2005 marking the beginning of 5 months of backpacking. A second Vietnam Visa on page 19. Cambodia visa page 21, hand written and given directly on the Mekong River from Vietnam to Cambodia. Issue date: 28/09/2005. Supplemental pages begins on page A marked with the department of state seal followed by India Visa on page C. Sydney stamp 24 Nov 2005 on page D marking the beginning of the end of 5 months of travel.
Page F, France visa 2008. Page K, second visa to China 2010 needed for a trip to Asia with my now fiancé. The trip was for a wedding in Taiwan for a friend from University in the States. On the same trip I saw a friend from D.C. (now living in China), a friend I met in Japan (now living in Hong Kong), and a friend from France (doing an internship in Malaysia at the time). All these people from a different time and place in my life somehow tied together on one trip to Asia. Life can be surprising.
In order to renew my passport by mail I have to mail in the old one. Although you get the old passport back I had a hard time risking losing this passport. There, through all the pages were tangent remains of my life for the past 10 years. It was hard to let go.
Sometimes we don’t feel the time pass.I recently went to NYC for my bachelorette party and threre was a moment where I looked around at the girls that I have now known for at least 10 years. I remember who they were then, see who they are now and can’t help but marvel at how far we all have come.
Before sending in my passport I had one last look at the picture of me age 22. My hair is tied back as it always was back then and I’m wearing a grey tank top I nicked from my little brother. Even though it’s not in the picture I’m pretty sure I’m wearing running pants to match.
Yes we’ve all come a long way.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
meilleurs voeux
So I live right next to rue de Levis which is a market street filled with specialty shops (cheese, meats, fruits/vegatables, bread, even olive oil). Imagine the beginning of Beauty and the Beast except without the singing or reading.
Unfortunately on the same street is a big chain grocery store and I must confess I always end up succumbing to it's convenient charms and regretting it afterwards.
But for New Year's Eve this year we decided to avoid the overpriced restaurants and eat in. Seizing the opportunity we went from specialty store to specialty store to get what we needed. Although it did require more time, surrounded by the aroma, colors, and expertise of "les artisans" shopping for food became more of a pleasure and less a chore.
Happy New Year.
Unfortunately on the same street is a big chain grocery store and I must confess I always end up succumbing to it's convenient charms and regretting it afterwards.
But for New Year's Eve this year we decided to avoid the overpriced restaurants and eat in. Seizing the opportunity we went from specialty store to specialty store to get what we needed. Although it did require more time, surrounded by the aroma, colors, and expertise of "les artisans" shopping for food became more of a pleasure and less a chore.
Happy New Year.
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