Last Post Of The Year

It's New Year's Eve. Kids are in bed and G's gone out to spend New Year's Eve with some Deaf folks here. I think there will be fireworks over the river so that will be enjoyable. Here, they put up trees for New Year's as we do for Christmas. Stores and malls have winter holiday decorations just like the States. They've incorporated Santa Claus into their celebration and at first, I thought they were copying the Western countries without realizing the background from which Santa Claus came. (Auto correct on my computer keeps wanting to change "Claus" to "clause.")

Let me pause here a minute and explain something. I'm a bit ethnocentric. Or maybe a lot. I have a tendency to think that everything in our culture and all our traditions originated in America or at least in Europe. When I see something from our culture overseas, I think they are copying us. There are far more ancient cultures than the American culture and more stuff has been around before America was discovered in 1492 when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Like Santa Claus.

Santa Claus originated from an actual, bona fide, real life person in history. This guy was a Greek Orthodox bishop, Nicholas (later elevated to sainthood), who lived in the 4th century. Guess where he was born and where he was bishop. In the area known as the modern-day country that I live in.

Who's copying whom? Apparently the St. Nicholas tradition is not unique to Western culture; it lives on in many cultures from Argentina to Palestine. My ethnocentrism has a dent in it. Good. Very good.

I won't leave you hanging about how Santa Claus came to be. Here's a great website: www.stnicholascenter.org.

Anyway, our Christmas was nice and quiet. We opened presents and enjoyed our presents all morning long. I cooked a couple of dishes and we went over to another family's home for potluck Christmas dinner.

You probably know that the majority religion here forbids pork. This is truly a cosmopolitan city so there are some stores that sell pork and they are mainly European chains. There is a single pork butcher in this entire city of 16 million. He's a Greek in his 60s and the government will not allow him to train someone to take his place. Apparently there are some Greeks who live down the coast and they raise pigs - oh, the horror! Sorry, that was sarcasm. Forgive me.

So, this European store had one hunk of ham for a whopping $86. The wife from the other family and I nearly choked. Then we discussed it. We decided it was only once a year and worth it for Christmas. We asked for the ham to be cut down and it cost $65. Sixty. five. dollars. For a one big slice of pig weighing about a pound or so.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed the pig! Oink! We also had some turkey on the side and we basically ate a Thanksgiving meal with mac 'n cheese, green beans, sweet potatoes, pecan pie, and pumpkin custard. And no, I didn't make the pie this time so pie-crust-rolling remains as the one occasion per year, a quota I have already met at Thanksgiving, thank you very much.

Yesterday, I got to celebrate New Year's somewhat. My language teacher invited me to her secret club. Women here form cliques and they meet once a month, taking turns hosting brunch and they all dress up really nice in suits and dresses. I think some may just meet in cafes. These groups are tight and closed to any newcomers. It can be difficult to break into. Two women formed my language teacher's group and one of them live across the street from me. The other lives just outside the city. She was always kind of distant towards me and yesterday, she finally warmed up to me, held baby DB for a few minutes, and invited me to her home when she hosts the group at her turn. Whoa. I mean, whoa. I'm making inroads...

So, anyway, since it was just the day before New Year's Eve, they wanted to celebrate. They got matching shirts and tights and hats. We were required to wear denim skirts. The shirts were bright, royal blue and so were the tights. The hats were tiny red fedora-style with netting and feathers, perched on the side of our heads. I felt a bit ridiculous in the get up. These rowdy women, mostly in the late 40s to early 60s age group, like to have fun! I had DB with me so I could feed her since this brunch runs until 5 or 6pm and I had to bring her if I wanted to stay all day. She did pretty well and at least didn't skip any of her naps.

So, I had my New Year's fun yesterday and it's G's turn tonight. I just got a text message from him saying that the group he's with (who I imagine are mostly older folks) are getting rowdy and hilarious.

Happy New Year!

Goat Cheese, Anybody?

We've been eating goat cheese without knowing it.

We were at a family's home for a brunch one morning several months back and ate fried cheese. We thought it was delicious and proceeded to buy halloumi cheese (English rendering of this name is from Arabic) and fry it at home on occasion.

Photo credit: squidoo.com

Last night, we had roasted vegetables with halloumi cheese. As I sliced up the cheese and fried it, it occurred to me that the cheese was not melting. I don't know why I only just now noticed it after several times of frying the cheese. How does the cheese not melt?

Curious, I looked it up. That was when I was surprised to discover that it was actually goat/sheep cheese. Halloumi cheese originated out of Cyprus (there used to be no cows on the island until the the British brought cows over in the 20th century) and was initially made in the Byzantine period (A.D. 395-1191) and gained popularity in the Middle East region. The high melting point comes from the fresh curd being heated before being shaped and placed in brine. Apparently, the Cypriots like to eat grilled halloumi cheese with watermelon. I guess it's not different from feta cheese with watermelon, a trend that I've heard of in the States.

Speaking of feta, we love feta so much that we use only feta as dressing for our salad and G puts feta in his scrambled eggs most mornings. Feta is super cheap here and it's expensive in the States, alas. This is just a side note, since we were talking about cheese. Just random and unimportant.

I never thought I'd ever get the opportunity to drink goat milk and eat goat cheese. Much less a type of cheese that has been around since the fourth century A.D. It's just cool.

I just wrote a post about cheese. I mean, really?

Babies Can Open Doors

There are folks in our company who believe that you should not have a baby during your first term on the field and/or during language study. There is no penalty if you do; it is simply a recommendation. I suppose some things happened that led people to conclude, either by personal experience or by observation, that having a baby during the first term (typically three years) is not the wisest thing to do.

Here are some reasons I think are behind this recommendation. First, living overseas is stressful. Your stress level is always higher than if you were living in the States. It's just a fact. Second, when you're in your first term, it follows that you're in language study because, obviously, you most likely do not know the language. Knowing the language is important for survival at the very least and for our job most of all. We cannot do our job well if we cannot clearly communicate the most important information that has eternal impact. 

Now, on the field in your first term, you are living at a higher stress level and very busy studying the language. Even language study may add to your stress if learning a language does not come easily for you. On top of that, there is an expectation that you must reach a language competency level within three years. No pressure there, right? 

Stress and language study are just two basic facts of the life in the first term. Add any number of variables that may be unique to each person's particular situation: a difficult teammate, loneliness, high security risk, health problems, lack of support, children's needs, trauma, death in the family back home, lack of fruit, poor walk with the Father, etc. I can go on. 

Having a baby in itself is time consuming. The feedings, diaper changes, bad naps, colds, possible colic, teething, doctor visits, sleep deprivation, long stays in the home without getting out much, etc. It can be hard enough in the States where you are comfortable, familiar, and can speak your native language. It's doubly hard overseas where you may not be as comfortable, where you have less support, no family to come and help, and you may not speak the language as well. 

Then, because you had a baby, you are not able to devote much time to language study. You may fall behind. You may be reasonably competent, but you cannot put in the hours required to meet the goals set for you. If you're lucky, you have a flexible language coach who will work with you.

So, I believe there were cases that happened which prompted this recommendation against pregnancy in the first term for all the reasons I listed above. I suspect there were people who resigned because everything became too much when a baby was added to the mix. I fully believe that I am oversimplifying because I know there are complex and unique situations that lead to resignations. I cannot know them all. I believe others endured a very difficult term and had a baby in the middle of it which caused them make this recommendation. Second terms are supposed to be easier when you are competent in the language and you're comfortable in the host culture (I cannot attest to this since I have yet to serve a second term) so having a baby would be best in the second term. That does make sense. 

I had a baby in my first term, which I am currently serving. My baby was born exactly 9 days after our first anniversary of arriving on the field. I had people who advised me to wait to have a baby. I listened. I thought about it. My husband and I talked. We prayed. We had two things going for us: we have served 2 years on the field before (as singles) and this was not our first baby. Therefore, I felt we had realistic expectations of what it's like to have a baby in our first term as a career couple.

I'm glad we chose to go ahead to have the baby because I am seeing doors open. Prior to this, I was greeted with friendliness at social events, but not much beyond that. My language teacher is part of a clique of women, completely closed to any newcomers. They meet once a month for breakfast and socialize all day. They don't publicly advertise this because they do not want anyone else to attend. I would see some of these ladies at the Deaf club and hear about their secret meetings. Even after I delicately asked about this monthly event, trying to weasel an invite, I didn't get invited. Months and months went by.

I became pregnant and the news was received by the Deaf with surprise and congratulations. I could tell the Deaf ladies in my language teacher's clique were warming up to me as they began to fuss over me throughout my pregnancy. The fact that I was entrusting my prenatal care, my delivery, and subsequent care to their doctors and their hospitals made an enormous impact. I was having my baby in their country. It was an affirmation of their national pride. 

After I had my baby, I saw an outpouring of love from these ladies. They came to my home, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in fours, and once, ten came to my house, and they all came bearing gifts. I felt tremendously blessed by their generosity. They love my baby with crazy affection.

Then....after a year and three months, I finally got an invitation to their secret monthly meeting. Only after I had the baby. Maybe my baby's sweet, toothless smiles were hard to resist. 

Having a baby was the best thing, in spite of conventional wisdom, and the doors that opened were well worth all the frantic juggling of language, life, family, and the new baby. I will be able to share the Good News with twenty more Deaf ladies as I have built trust with them by having my baby among them. 

I Get A Failing Grade

Thanksgiving went well. It's now our second Thanksgiving here. Last year, we celebrated with several families, feasted on a big spread, and played board games happily until after our kids' bedtime. It was a lot of fun. Since then, these families we spent the holidays with returned to America either on furlough or permanently. We miss them.

This year, we spent Thanksgiving with a few other families that we don't know as well yet. We ate, chatted, and then went home in less than 3 hours. DB was past her bedtime and suffering so we went home.

What?! An epic F?

No, it's a camera. Below is a camera called Diana. Seriously. It's a Diana F+ toy camera, a remake of the 1960s original Diana camera. It's a toy camera because it's made of plastic. It's a medium format camera - in other words, it takes pictures on a big film. You've heard of the standard 35 mm camera? This is a 125 mm camera. In G's words, "It can do some really cool things." You can take as many pictures you want on a single frame, creating the double exposure effect. You can slide color filters on the flash to cast a color over the subject that you're shooting. One day, you will see some examples.

G got this for his birthday. Happy 34th, my man. Now I tease him, "Are you taking the other Diana out? Who's your favorite Diana? It'd better be me." It's really funny to share a name with a camera.

Well, our Christmas tree is up, as you can see in the background of the picture above. Last year, I was sick as a dog in my first trimester so I didn't enjoy the season as well as I could have. I even had an advent calendar up with an activity for each day that we didn't do last year. This time, I'm feeling great, Ava's a year older and Christmas is more fun with her. We're doing the activity of the first day of advent this afternoon.

I have no idea what our plans are for Christmas this year. Last year, I hosted several families and had a lot of fun. Like I said, pretty much all these families are gone. Don't feel sorry for us, we will be fine. Next year should be better when some of these families come back.

Adios.

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