We've had a very exciting month, and I haven't had the chances to blog that I would have liked. I broke both bones in my leg just above the ankle and had surgery to fix it that afternoon (13 screws, 1 plate, 3 incisions, and 24 stitches), and spent a week in the hospital. It will be 4 months before I can walk without crutches, but at least I don't have a cast and I can take showers.
On Monday, 6 March, I left for work at 9:05 to catch the 9:10 bus, late, as usual, for a Monday morning, and especially after I've given my resignation and I just don't care anymore.
I had almost gotten stuck in the office on the Friday before. The snow was falling so heavily then that the roads were completely impassable for a time, but I found a bus to get me home. So I started out Monday very carefully on icy roads.
But careful doesn't really help someone who is as graceful as I can be, and I fell on the ice, just on the far side of the street from our house. I knew the second it happened it was broken -- I heard it crack. I was lying on the road with my knees pointing to the sky, and my right foot lying at an impossible angle. I was thinking about how to crawl back across the street safely, when I thought that maybe I should try first to flag down a car, if for no other reason than to protect me as I crawled back across the road. The first car I saw stopped when I waved. It turned out the driver was the British man who lives down the street, the one who works at Eurostat and has three daughters. He called for an ambulance, went up to the house to get Darin, arranged for his wife to look in on the kids for later, and translated for me the people who came along to help in various ways.
Darin brought some blankets from the house to keep me warm, and I suppose it helped, but I was still lying on a sheet of ice on the street. No one wanted to move me at all in case something else was wrong. I really thought that my bum was fine, and I could have rolled over enough to have some the blankets on my backside instead of just piled on the top. My leg really hurt, and it hurt even more when I shivered.
There was a man from the commune who brought me some kind of space-age metallic blanket, and he was calling to check on the various ambulances that were or weren't coming. He was also trying to make sure that no one ran over me with their cars. Someone called a local doctor, and he came out to check on me. He kept checking my pulse and asking "doctor" questions about previous injuries and allergies. I am allergic to codeine in its various forms, which is a pain-killer, so it's important to share that information when you are lying there in pain. Fortunately for me, the French words for "allergy" and "codeine" are the same as in English. He also kept telling me to stay calm. I would have been calmer if I'd been warmer and on pain medication.
Because of all the snow and ice, there had been a lot of accidents and falls that morning. The ambulance from Mamer couldn't come, and they had to send one from Steinfort instead. The ambulance didn't come until about 10:10 or so, with me finally in the ambulance by 10:28. They first put my leg and foot in this balloon-thing and blew it up to keep it still. Then the guys acted like they were going to pick me up by my legs to put me on the stretcher, and I started to panic. But they got out the back-board, so that part was OK. They took the Autobahn most of the way to the hospital, but every bump hurt.
They took me straight to radiology, and I got to bump some people from the line since I was in the most pain. It was here that I finally was able to take off my coat and ask for some blankets. The technician tried to get me to put my coat back on, but then noticed how cold and wet it was. That's what happens when you're lying on the ice for more than an hour. They also took x-rays of my chest in preparation for surgery.
I was out of radiology and back to admitting by 11:30, and I kept asking for my husband (in English, German, and French) and pain medication, but no one would help me. It was a terrible feeling. No one wanted to speak English with me, and I couldn't think straight enough to try to understand anyone else's German or French. I really wanted Darin. They kept mentioning surgery, and I was afraid that Darin wasn't getting the word. At 12:30 they started the IV so I could finally get some pain relief. At 13:30 I finally saw a doctor, and I explained to him that I needed to talk to my husband. He mentioned that to a nurse, and she told him (in French) that I had already spoken to my husband on the telephone. But I hadn't. I told the doctor that my husband wasn't at home, he was somewhere in the hospital and no one would find him for me. When he told this to the nurse, she looked a bit panicked. At least someone eventually told Darin something. I didn't get to see him during the ambulance ride, and hardly at all at the hospital. I really wish they had let us be together more. I was so stressed and in so much pain, and I really needed someone to talk to who could understand me.
By 14:00, the pain meds had kicked in fully, and they started taking me to pre-op. The doctors seemed all very nice, so I was fairly calm, except that I was still worried that they weren't telling Darin anything.
I woke up about 18:30 in the post-op ward. I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there. I was looking for Darin, and I somehow had it in my head that I couldn't find Darin because they wouldn't tell him where I was. People around me were talking, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying. I remember thinking that something was wrong with my hearing. I eventually remembered that I was in Luxembourg and that I had fallen and needed surgery. And that I was right about Darin -- he wouldn't be there. I started crying and then throwing up. They gave me some medicine and I went back to sleep.
About 19:00 I was awake again, and some nurses came to take me to my room. The nurse said that when my husband realized he couldn't see me, he went home, but he had called already and he would call me again. That made me feel better somewhat, even though I still missed him. I was upset that Darin had spent the whole day in the hospital for nothing, when I knew he'd be worried about all the packing we still had to do back at the house. I knew that the kids would feel better if Darin was at home, too.
I had a terrible night that night, and a bad day on Tuesday, and another bad night on Tuesday night. I was throwing up all the time, mostly just dry heaves because I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. I was so thirsty, and my hands had swollen.
Tuesday evening I got a new roommate who was really loud and annoying, but she was gone most of the day on Wednesday to have her surgery, so that helped me to feel better and get some rest also.
On Wednesday I asked to be taken off one of the pain medications. I tried not to push the button so much during the night on Tuesday night, and I woke up feeling slightly less nauseated. By lunch I was feeling better, and lunch was good: roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sandwich bread. So I made myself a roast beef sandwich. It reminded me of my Grandpa.
The physical therapist came by for the first time on Wednesday. She showed me some exercises to do, and we practiced for a little bit on my new crutches. I still had the IV in my arm and drainage tubes coming out of my leg, so it was very difficult for me to walk anywhere without help.
My pastor, Joan, came by to visit Wednesday, and she bought me a card for the phone. I could get incoming calls, but I couldn't call out without the card. She put 20 euros on the card, but I didn't use it all, so we got some back and paid her back. She also went to the gift shop and bought me a brush, some lip stuff, hand lotion, a National Geographic, and a Ladies' Home Journal.
Also on Wednesday, Darin took a break from packing to come visit. He hitched a ride with the British lady down the street and then later rode the bus back to Kehlen. It was really nice to see him.
Since now I have a phone, I called my office and left my number, and my boss called me this evening to ask if I could send a file to him. I told him that was impossible. The whole conversation was so funny. I was regretting that I had called the office after all. My boss had called the house on Tuesday looking for me. Darin told him I was in the hospital because of surgery, but Darin wouldn't give him my number then. It turned out that Darin had the right idea.
Wednesday afternoon the doctor decided that since I was eating and drinking now, they could take me off the IV. The doctor also had the nurses rebandage my leg and pull out the tubes. My leg was in a "splint" that was essentially just half a cast on the underside of my shin and the bottom of my foot, and then wrapped up in gauze and ace bandages. I kept telling people that the splint was too tight and it was hurting my little toe, a casualty of my broken foot from 16 years ago. They would ask me if I felt pin-pricks or ants crawling. I know they were asking about a lack of circulation, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the splint was crushing my little toes. I kept asking if we couldn't do something to not squish my toes. They kept telling me it wasn't too tight. I don't think it was a language problem as much as it was that they thought they knew more than I did about my own pain. I couldn't convince them that the toe was a previous condition. I suppose it would have been easier if they had spoken better English, or if I could have explained everything in French. So they took off the splint, rebandaged everything and put the splint back on, only without the drainage tubes. My little toe was very sad.
On Thursday, the physical therapist came about 8:00, and she had me walk down to the sunroom, and my nurses brought me breakfast there. It was a nice change. They I walked back and went to bed. It was really hard work.
When the doctor came, he told them to rebandage my leg again without the splint. I was so happy, for the sake of my little toe. They put lovely white support hose on both legs.
Lunch was stuffed chicken and rice, really good, with really good soup. We usually get something really nice for desert also, and Thursday it was something made from strawberries. Breakfast was usually a hard German-type roll with packs of butter, jam, and sometimes Philly cream cheese, and fruit and yogurt. Supper was usually some kind of cold salad, like tuna or salmon with vegetables, good soup, and fruit for desert. Generally speaking, the hospital food was much better than any hospital food I'd ever had in the States.
Liz from church called and then came by in the afternoon. She said she is addicted to Suduko puzzles, and I should like them since math people like logic puzzles. She brought probably twenty of them, clipped from the newspaper. Some of them weren't clipped out yet, so I was able to read some news from England on the back of the "puzzle page."
Then Marco called from the office, and he asked if there was anything from the office that I needed. I told him it would help if he could bring me my CDs I had left in my desk because then we could get them packed in the container. So he and Gabriella came by this evening, and not only did he bring my CDs, he had bought me a small CD player for me to use in the hospital, and 3 cans of Coke Light. Gabriella bought me a big yellow flower in a cute little pot. While they were there, someone came with a big bouquet of pink rose buds and pink lilies. I took the card, and Gabriella asked who sent them. I told her that she had because the card said they were from the "team", but obviously sent by my boss. They were really pretty. I love pink lilies and roses.
That evening Joan and Chris, our pastors, had the kids over for dinner and to meet their dog (who likes to eat girls, they were told), and then Joan brought the girls to the hospital for a visit. It was really nice to see all the girls. I taught them my exercises so that they could help me, and we talked about how the packing was going. I gave them most of my CDs to take home so they would be packed in the container.
Thursday night felt very lonely.
The nice night nurse, the one who speaks English was me, wasn't around on Thursday night and Friday night, and when I complained about pain, I didn't get the usual shot in the bum for pain, but only the fizzy tablets in water.
My parents had been calling me every night at about 18:00, and on Friday, Darin's parents called me, too, so that was cool. Daddy said that my friend Kathy had been trying to get in touch with me. He called her "your Kathy" because he had temporarily forgotten her married name. I didn't need a last name -- I knew who he meant when he said "your Kathy." I was glad he told me about it, and I was glad that Kathy was thinking about me, but it made me sad that I couldn't call her. I really wanted to talk to her.
Saturday they wanted me to get out of bed for breakfast, but I wouldn't get up. So for lunch, they set the tray on the table for both me and my roommate, forcing us both to get out of bed. The nurses were complaining that we were being lazy. My roommate finally spoke to me some. She had said earlier that she didn't know English, but her English was fine. (Lunch was a salmon pastry thing that was very good.) At supper, they did the same thing, making us eat at the table. (Supper was cold tomatoes and cheese.) We decided to show them that we could move if we wanted, and the two of us took a walk down to the sun room, rested, and then came back.
Then this one nurse I didn't like, partly because she didn't even try to speak anything except Luxembourgish, and partly because she wouldn't stop talking, decided I needed my bandages changed. I told her that the doctor said they were fine, but she insisted. The bandage changing was fine, but she almost killed me trying to get the white support hose back on. I had told my roommate at supper about my earlier accident, and how much the splint had hurt my little toe, and how I couldn't seem to explain to the nurses that they needed to be careful of both my little toe and my ankle. So my roommate explained it to this nurse in Luxembourgish, and she still managed to bang up both sides of my ankle and almost tear off my little toe.
Then my roommate wanted to watch "Deutschland Superstar", Germany's version of "American Idol", and she said if I didn't mind, we could watch it together (we had separate TVs, but I hadn't ever gotten mine to work). It was down to the final three contestants, so the singing was pretty good. The first guy, Mike, started out singing "Mandy", not my favorite song, but it reminds me of that Ray Stevens song. The girl sang something I can't remember, and sang it like she was nervous. The next guy, Tobias, sang "Are we having fun yet?", and did a good job. Then Mike sang "Against All Odds", a song that always makes me cry. Then Jessica sang Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love", another song that makes me cry, except that Jessica sounded bad at the end. Then Tobias sang a sad song about how his girl will always be there with him even though she's gone. When they went to commercial, I rang for the nurse to get my pain pill for the night, thinking the show was almost over. After the break, they all got to sing a dedication song. Mike sang to Jessica "She's so Beautiful to Me" and had Jessica crying, and then I was crying. Then Jessica sang a song for her sister, a song I didn't know, and it was in German, but she sang it really well, and the words were so beautiful, and I was thinking about Kathy, and then I was really crying, with tears running down my face and neck. Right when the song ended the nurse comes in, and I ask for my pain pill, and she's worried because I'm crying. I'm explaining that it was a really beautiful song on the TV, and my roommate is trying to explain it to her also, but she's still worried about the both of us. It was pretty funny, except that we couldn't stop crying.
So when the show was over, I'm still thinking about Kathy, and feeling sorry for myself. But then I decide that thinking about Kathy should make me happy because there are so many good memories, so I start thinking about happy things (like that "insane, but preppie" email). Many of my happy memories involve all my friends at Census, so I fell asleep that night thinking about Kathy, Joe, Amy, Suzanne, and Lynn, and I feel asleep laughing.
In the morning, I had this dream that Darin and I, Kathy and her husband Dave, and Joe, were in Kathy and Dave's RV on our way to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I was still on crutches. And Joe's wife didn't want to come with us. Joe suggested we stop at a Walmart on the way to buy souvenirs. I stayed in the RV. Joe came back from shopping and showed me this really ugly, wild Hawaiian shirt, and said, "I bought this for Steve, but now I'm not so sure. Is this too gay, or should I buy him a dress instead?" I woke up then, laughing. It was my best night so far. I slept straight from 23:30 to 5:50. (By the way, the dream won't make any sense to Joe either, I'm sure. I have no idea who Steve is, or what the dream means, but it did cheer me up.)
Sunday morning my roommate started throwing up and had a really bad day. Wendy from church came by, but my roommate had lots of loud visitors, sometimes as many as 8 in our really small room (with no curtains to pull either, so to keep some modesty, I have to stay under the covers even though it's hot in the room).
But my little toe is feeling a lot better. And I'm really thankful for my friends, even if I'm too far away from home for them to come visit.
Monday morning I proved to the physical therapist that I could be released by walking up and back down a flight of stairs. It was really tiring. My doctor said I'm making good progress, and he released me. Fortunately, there were no stairs at our house in Luxembourg, and now that I'm at Mom and Dad's, I can just crawl up the stairs. Luxembourg does not seem to be very handicapped and wheelchair friendly, compared to the US. I think that I'll find a way to avoid stairs for the most part.
Kathy called me at the hospital on the afternoon I was released. It was so good to hear her voice. If she only knew how much I've been thinking about her. I wonder if she knows how much I appreciate her? I really appreciated the regular phone calls from my parents also. It really gave me something to look forward to every day.
So I celebrated my 52nd Monday in Luxembourg by coming home from the hospital.
My doctor says I can't work for six weeks, and he was totally OK with our going back to the States. So just about the time we forced my boss to agree to our schedule for a final day, I didn't go back to work anyway.
ttfn
14 March, 2006
28 February, 2006
February's Beautiful Picture of Luxembourg
What better way to celebrate Mardi Gras and the last day of my contract -- especially on a cold, snowy day -- than with a mug of hot white chocolate milk?
Taken at the Gormet Bagel Restaurant at the end of avenue de la Gare
Taken at the Gormet Bagel Restaurant at the end of avenue de la Gare
20 February, 2006
A Moving Company for the Return Trip
We have learned a lot this past year, about ourselves and about various things going on around us. At least Darin and I have. The kids will see, someday, that they have learned something, too. I don't have time this morning to go through everything we have learned, but we have learned a lot about moving.
The worst thing you can do to find a mover is to go to a web site that says if you enter your information, then they will have movers send bids to you. Most of the offers you will get will be from moving companies that are not entirely legitimate.
The best place to start is with your local phone book, or the phone book of the place where you are going, and often the yellow pages can be seen on the web now.
Also, there are several "accreditation"-type groups for movers, so it is also possible to find lists of moving companies from their web sites, such as www.fidi.com. There is also RIM (Registered International Mover, info at http://www.promover.org/education/rim.htm) Certification, OMNI (Overseas Movers Network International) Membership, and ISO 9002 Certification.
We filled out one of the on-line forms, but I didn't want to rely on that with the problems we had with moving companies before. I also wrote directly to several movers from the accreditation sites and from the local phone book.
For the companies that responded to the on-line form, we found problems when I looked them up on-line. One of the companies, Unitrans International Inc., had its license pulled by the US Government, and other companies owned by the same people were under investigation for money laundering. When we wrote back to the company to ask for an explanation, we were told, after about a week of not hearing from them, that it was another company using their name, and they were completely in the clear. I told Darin that even if her story was true, it didn't bode well that it took her a week to answer our email question.
We also had some interest from a company called Wheaton. Though they don't seem to be under investigation, they also are not very responsive when we ask questions.
Though you shouldn't hire a company only based on the web, the web is a very powerful tool for checking on a moving company. Do a Google Search. Check out sites like MovingScam.com. There are a lot of really bad companies out there. After reading some of the stories on these sites, I feel very grateful that we only lost money on the move over here, and not everything we own. Another place to check on international movers is with the Federal Maritime Commission. Their FAQ on movers: http://www.fmc.gov/home/faq/index.asp?F_CATEGORY_ID=18.
The company we are going to hire to get us back to the States is Security Storage Company at www.wemove4u.com. They are fully licensed, gave us a great rate, and have been very responsive to emails. They also come very highly recommended on several web sites.
And they take credit cards. Though not a sure-fire test, I suppose, it is something we have noticed. A lot of the moving companies out there don't take credit cards. We think this is directly related to how they do business. For example, if we had put down a deposit with Sea & Air Cargo on our credit card, and then they didn't show up when promised, we could have simply called the credit card and cancelled. Our new moving company doesn't need a deposit -- we pay when they show up. And we can put it all on the credit card if we want.
We hope to get the container delivery scheduled very soon, and airline tickets bought. Hopefully, we'll hear from our real estate agent today also. I feel sometimes that I won't be able to keep my head above water because everything is changing so quickly. When 2006 began, I thought we would be in the country for another 2 years, and now we could be flying back to the States in less than a month. At least we never finished unpacking. Maybe deep down inside we had seen all this coming all along.
The worst thing you can do to find a mover is to go to a web site that says if you enter your information, then they will have movers send bids to you. Most of the offers you will get will be from moving companies that are not entirely legitimate.
The best place to start is with your local phone book, or the phone book of the place where you are going, and often the yellow pages can be seen on the web now.
Also, there are several "accreditation"-type groups for movers, so it is also possible to find lists of moving companies from their web sites, such as www.fidi.com. There is also RIM (Registered International Mover, info at http://www.promover.org/education/rim.htm) Certification, OMNI (Overseas Movers Network International) Membership, and ISO 9002 Certification.
We filled out one of the on-line forms, but I didn't want to rely on that with the problems we had with moving companies before. I also wrote directly to several movers from the accreditation sites and from the local phone book.
For the companies that responded to the on-line form, we found problems when I looked them up on-line. One of the companies, Unitrans International Inc., had its license pulled by the US Government, and other companies owned by the same people were under investigation for money laundering. When we wrote back to the company to ask for an explanation, we were told, after about a week of not hearing from them, that it was another company using their name, and they were completely in the clear. I told Darin that even if her story was true, it didn't bode well that it took her a week to answer our email question.
We also had some interest from a company called Wheaton. Though they don't seem to be under investigation, they also are not very responsive when we ask questions.
Though you shouldn't hire a company only based on the web, the web is a very powerful tool for checking on a moving company. Do a Google Search. Check out sites like MovingScam.com. There are a lot of really bad companies out there. After reading some of the stories on these sites, I feel very grateful that we only lost money on the move over here, and not everything we own. Another place to check on international movers is with the Federal Maritime Commission. Their FAQ on movers: http://www.fmc.gov/home/faq/index.asp?F_CATEGORY_ID=18.
The company we are going to hire to get us back to the States is Security Storage Company at www.wemove4u.com. They are fully licensed, gave us a great rate, and have been very responsive to emails. They also come very highly recommended on several web sites.
And they take credit cards. Though not a sure-fire test, I suppose, it is something we have noticed. A lot of the moving companies out there don't take credit cards. We think this is directly related to how they do business. For example, if we had put down a deposit with Sea & Air Cargo on our credit card, and then they didn't show up when promised, we could have simply called the credit card and cancelled. Our new moving company doesn't need a deposit -- we pay when they show up. And we can put it all on the credit card if we want.
We hope to get the container delivery scheduled very soon, and airline tickets bought. Hopefully, we'll hear from our real estate agent today also. I feel sometimes that I won't be able to keep my head above water because everything is changing so quickly. When 2006 began, I thought we would be in the country for another 2 years, and now we could be flying back to the States in less than a month. At least we never finished unpacking. Maybe deep down inside we had seen all this coming all along.
11 February, 2006
Our Biggest Catch-22 Yet
We finally hit a Catch-22 we're not willing to fight against.
Let me start off by mentioning that we still don't have our residency permits. My salary was 12,000 euros short of what was promised after taxes, and I can't get a straight answer from my boss or his accountant about whether the money is coming back to us from Luxembourg as an overpayment of taxes or not.
Without the 12,000 euros, the prospect of getting a car anytime soon is dim. You would think that we could get a loan for a car, but even that hope seems dim. I applied for a VISA card, and the bank said they would give me one with a limit of 1,250 euro, but only if I kept 3,750 euro in a special "saving account" that would not draw interest and we could not take the money from. When I seemed shocked that they would require this from us, they explained that we had never had a credit card before. Never mind that we have excellent credit in the United States. In Luxembourg, it's like being a teenager and starting from scratch.
Then came the Catch-22.
We have been telling people that our kids are doing correspondence courses from the States. It turns out that will work only if you can prove that you are in the country on a temporary basis. My work permit says that we are here indefinitely. If my boss had applied for a work permit for only a few years, then they would have denied the application because obviously, if it's only temporary, then he doesn't really need someone from America. I mentioned to my boss that we were in trouble with the Luxembourg administration for not having the kids in school. He said that we were terrible parents for not making the kids go to school because as parents we all have to make kids do things they don't want to do. The problem is that it's not only the kids who don't want to be in the public schools -- the public schools don't want my kids. It's against the law for us to have them here at home, but Luxembourg doesn't want them in the public schools, and we can't afford private schools in Luxembourg.
Everyone seems to have the attitude that if we just put them in the public schools and let them struggle and fail for a while, after 3 or 4 years they will be fine. By that time, we would really like to be back in the States. But that assumes that Luxembourg will actually try to teach my children.
So we're going home.
My provisional contract ends at the end of February, and I gave my boss the 1 month notice required by the contract three weeks ago. We're looking for a mover and a real estate agent back in the States.
I think we really have learned "How Not to Move to Luxembourg."
Let me start off by mentioning that we still don't have our residency permits. My salary was 12,000 euros short of what was promised after taxes, and I can't get a straight answer from my boss or his accountant about whether the money is coming back to us from Luxembourg as an overpayment of taxes or not.
Without the 12,000 euros, the prospect of getting a car anytime soon is dim. You would think that we could get a loan for a car, but even that hope seems dim. I applied for a VISA card, and the bank said they would give me one with a limit of 1,250 euro, but only if I kept 3,750 euro in a special "saving account" that would not draw interest and we could not take the money from. When I seemed shocked that they would require this from us, they explained that we had never had a credit card before. Never mind that we have excellent credit in the United States. In Luxembourg, it's like being a teenager and starting from scratch.
Then came the Catch-22.
We have been telling people that our kids are doing correspondence courses from the States. It turns out that will work only if you can prove that you are in the country on a temporary basis. My work permit says that we are here indefinitely. If my boss had applied for a work permit for only a few years, then they would have denied the application because obviously, if it's only temporary, then he doesn't really need someone from America. I mentioned to my boss that we were in trouble with the Luxembourg administration for not having the kids in school. He said that we were terrible parents for not making the kids go to school because as parents we all have to make kids do things they don't want to do. The problem is that it's not only the kids who don't want to be in the public schools -- the public schools don't want my kids. It's against the law for us to have them here at home, but Luxembourg doesn't want them in the public schools, and we can't afford private schools in Luxembourg.
Everyone seems to have the attitude that if we just put them in the public schools and let them struggle and fail for a while, after 3 or 4 years they will be fine. By that time, we would really like to be back in the States. But that assumes that Luxembourg will actually try to teach my children.
So we're going home.
My provisional contract ends at the end of February, and I gave my boss the 1 month notice required by the contract three weeks ago. We're looking for a mover and a real estate agent back in the States.
I think we really have learned "How Not to Move to Luxembourg."
31 January, 2006
20 January, 2006
Surviving the Holidays
Our first big holiday crisis was the 4th of July. It is Darin's all-time favorite holiday, and I doubted that it could be as good as it was when we were living near DC, but I was determined to make a good try. So I was planning on renting a car for the weekend so that we could go to the picnics and other events planned. I also asked for the day off on Monday, 4 July, since it's not a holiday in Luxembourg.
Then some friends of ours offered to lend us a car for a couple of weeks, starting on 1 July. Perfect! So that day, a Friday, I left work and took the train out to Liz and Stu's house. Liz had me take a test drive in the car before I left. Darin wanted to go somewhere as soon as I got home, but it was already 19:00. So Saturday morning Darin and I went to Conforama and the Belle Etoile for some shopping. There was a Dixieland band playing in the halls at Belle Etoile. It was nice, and it reminded us of the Republican picnic we used to attend in Virginia.
After a quick snack, we went out to find the American picnic at about 16:30. The directions were not very good, and we ended up in France, but turned around and found the place. We parked where they told us to and took the bus to the park.
The picnic was at a place called Parc Merveilleux near Bettembourg. They had amazing playgrounds, rides for the kids (though the rides were mostly for kids younger than mine), and a zoo. The US Embassy had set up tents, and in the tents was free food: hot dogs with Wonder Bread buns (and relish and ketchup), Pizza Hut pizza, brownies and cookies, ice cream, popcorn, blue cotton candy, and American beer and sodas. They had a live country band that played, and three groups of country line dancers that used country CDs, and a local city band that played some American music, including music from "Pirates of the Caribbean." And the Ambassador spoke, and then the band played the Star Spangled Banner and the Luxembourg National Anthem, which is very calm and quiet compared to ours. They also had set up bull riding with lots of padding around for the kids. M especially enjoyed that. It drizzled a bit early on, but then it cleared up, and it was nice temperatures, and nice to sit out on a veranda and listen to the music. I met a lady named Pam who lives in Nancy, France with her French husband. She had never come before, but her husband really liked it, so they said they would see me again next year. And we met a couple named Jill and Chris. She is from Canada, and he is from Texas. And we saw my friends Cary and Kristina, the French horn players. The picnic started at 17:00 and lasted until 22:00.
After church on Sunday, we drove to Kirshberg to the mall for shopping. The stores are usually closed on Sunday, but 3 July was an exception because it was the start of the summer sales. So we ate at Subway (very American), and then went to Auchan to buy a TV set. Then we drove the TV set home and drove back into the center city for Evensong at the Anglican church. It was a nice service.
Then we walked to Place D'Armes to the outside tables at Quick. There was a city band playing, from Schuttrange. We caught the end, and I bought everyone supper. Then we stayed for the next concert, the "Rhythm and Swing Big Band" from Trier, Germany at 20:30. During that concert, I bought everyone ice cream. About 21:40, the girls were getting a bit restless, and maybe Darin also, so we went for a walk around the city walls. We didn't get home until midnight.
Monday (The Fourth) we went to the military cemeteries at Hamm (American) and Sandweiler (German). But then it really started raining, so we went to Aldi for pizza and soda, and spent the rest of the day eating and watching movies at home. I really wish I had remembered to bring my Ronald Reagan/Irving Berlin movie (This is the Army) in my suitcase. I love to watch that on the Fourth of July. I also usually watch 1776, and this year I have them both on DVD, just not in Luxembourg. Oh well. Hopefully we'll have all our stuff with us when the 4th of July rolls around again.
Our next big holiday crisis was for Thanksgiving. I tried to talk the girls into eating something other than turkey, but they were determined. Turkey is a fairly traditional meal in France and Luxembourg for Christmas and/or New Year, but you can't usually find them in the stores in November. So I convinced Vincent from my office to go with me to his favorite butcher shop, and he helped me order a large turkey for Thanksgiving. The owner's name is Yves Krack, and I talked with him personally. He said that big turkeys are no problem because he has lots of American clients and he understands American Thanksgiving. The name of his shop is Boucherie Krack, and his sign has pigs running very fast. As an American, or at least an English speaker, I can't help but think of pigs on crack.
I had suggested early in the planning stages that since it's not a holiday in Luxembourg, we could do something really different on Thanksgiving, like go to a movie and to the Subway for turkey sandwiches. That idea didn't seem to fly at first, but then I guess it started to catch on, except that everyone still wanted a big turkey at home. So the plan became to go to the movies and Subway on Thursday for Thanksgiving Day itself, and then to have the big turkey dinner on Saturday. There was also some concern that if I had to work that day (which I did), then they would have to work on school. I gave them a holiday with school assignments only for Monday-Wednesday. I convinced then that Thanksgiving could be good even if it wasn't exactly the same, and the good times for the 4th of July helped me make my case. Just because it isn't exactly the same (Macy's parade, turkey, and football), doesn't mean it can't be fun.
I was a little bit nervous about going to the butcher shop by myself since my French is still not so good, but when I walked into the butcher shop on Wednesday, the lady knew exactly who I was -- I didn't have to explain anything. "You're the American lady who wanted the big turkey, right?" It wasn't the 10 kg turkey they were trying to find for me, only 7.33 kg, but that was fine. When I went to order it, the owner of the store was all excited about trying to find a 10 kg turkey that I didn't have the heart to tell him that 8 kg would be fine. The owner seemed so excited to have an American client. 7.33 kg works out to about 16 pounds.
On Thanksgiving Day itself, Darin had the girls practice the piano, and then they all came downtown to eat lunch with me at the Quick. Then they went out to the Auchan to finish the shopping. They did find some yams from Israel, and some marshmallows. I met them after work at the Auchan to go to the movies together, The Legend of Zorro. The music was excellent, the themes done by James Horner around a lot of traditional music like "Malaguena", and also some lovely songs by Eduardo Gamboa. It felt like a very American movie.
When we got out of the movie, we went to our usual spot -- Subway for dinner. Some of us had turkey sandwiches. (The Subway is just downstairs from the movie theater.) When we left Subway, we saw that it was snowing. The girls were very excited. We took the bus to the station and then to home. By the time we were home the snow was already coating the trees and making the roads slippery.
The turkey dinner on Saturday was a success. Everyone seemed very happy with the results. My youngest and I set the table, and everything looked really nice. Besides the turkey, we had mashed potatoes and gravy, Darin's sweet potato casserole, Brussel sprouts, broccoli with cheese, and cornbread. In the States I would buy crescent rolls, but I was feeling like I wanted something more American, so Darin made cornbread for us instead. We never did find the pumpkin we needed for the pie. I know they have pumpkin here, but I didn't buy it when I had the chance and then I didn't see it again. We had vanilla ice cream for desert instead.
We watched Chicken Run that afternoon, and then Darin listened to football. We also did piano lessons.
All in all, I think that our first Thanksgiving in Europe was a success.
Christmas didn't seem like such a shock, maybe because it's a holiday here and in the States. They celebrate St. Nicholas Day (6 Dec) here, but we've always celebrated that in the States. I had always wanted Santa Claus to be separate from Jesus' birthday.
The Christmas lights and trees in town were really pretty, and with sunset at about 16:30 right around Christmas, there was a lot of time to see the lights.
But even though familiar, nothing in Europe is quite what I expect. I had a surreal moment at work on 25 November. "Surreal" happens more often in Europe for me than in America. I suppose just living in Europe is still a bit surreal in itself. But this moment was special.
I was in my office, about 16:00, and I hear what sounds like a marching band playing a polka. They are getting closer. When they sound like they are really close, I get up and look out my window. It's a band of marching Santas. Very strange. Then the polka that I didn't recognize ends, and they start up a new song -- "Roll Out the Barrel." The marching Santas march on down the street. I'm just standing by my window thinking, "Did that really happen?", when Bertrand comes in and says, "Did you see the Santa Band?"
"Playing 'Roll Out the Barrel'?", I ask.
"Yes, of course," he answers.
Just one of the many pleasures of being in Europe.
Christmas weekend was nice. On Christmas Eve, I made the girls stay up until past midnight singing Christmas carols at the piano, then we slept until 9:00 on Christmas morning. We ate breakfast, did more singing (but not the whole hymnal this time), read the Christmas story from the Bible, and then started opening gifts about noon. We took a break for lunch at 14:00, and then came back and opened the rest of the gifts. We spent Christmas evening and Boxing Day (also a holiday here) watching new movies (Moonstruck, Kingdom of Heaven, and Episodes I-IV of Star Wars though only Episode III was new) and playing with new games and toys.
After Christmas was over, I was focusing on the girls' January birthdays, and I wasn't thinking much about New Year's Day. When the day came, we decided to finish watching some of the new movies we'd gotten for Christmas. I was wondering how we would know it was midnight if we couldn't watch the big ball in Times Square, but I shouldn't have worried. We had been hearing a few random fireworks through the evening (and even while I was at work the week before), but when midnight came they started for real, all over town. Darin and some of the girls went outside for a while to watch, but I stayed inside and watched from the windows where it was warmer. It was so much nicer than watching something on TV.
My middlest daughter has an August birthday, and she got to spend her birthday at the Mall of America with her grandparents when we were back in the States over the summer. So how do you celebrate for the other two in Luxembourg? At first the girls wanted to spend the weekend in the Black Forest in Germany because we have really happy memories from being there a few years ago on vacation. But this year in Luxembourg, we still don't have a car, and a trip to the Black Forest seemed really difficult.
So the day before their birthday, Darin took the girls to see King Kong on the big screen, and I met them for supper at -- you guessed it -- the only American restaurant in town, Subway.
On the day of their birthday, they spent the mornings decorating their birthday cakes while I was at work, but I made it home about 12:30, and we opened gifts. Then we played games and they played with their new Barbies. It was a very low-key day, but hopefully next year we can have a real birthday party and do something special, maybe even invite over some friends.
Of course, some holidays that are holidays here aren't holidays in the States. Easter Monday for one. The shops are mostly closed, but in the city center, near the palace, there is a craft show. I got there about 08h30, and when I left a little after 10h00, it was starting to get crowded. They said (on the web site for Americans) that the traditional thing to buy in Luxembourg for Easter Monday was a bird whistle. And that seems like it would be very cool, and it was for a while. But when it gets crowded, and every little kid is blowing on a whistle, it was just a bit too much.
Luxembourg also has a holiday for May Day (1 May), Ascension Day, and Pentecost Monday. The next big holiday is in June for the Grand Duke's birthday, which is really in April. But the official holiday is on the birthday of some past GD, and there are fireworks and parades. So it's a bit like the 4th of July in America.
And then there are the holidays that they don't have here. One of them is the 11th of November, which is celebrated in Belgium and France, but not in Germany or Luxembourg. I guess that Luxembourg identifies more with Germany when it comes to the wars?
One holiday they don't celebrate at all in Europe is Columbus Day, which I understand completely. We needed to have something notarized around the time of Columbus Day, and I called the American Embassy to ask about notary services because there was some contradiction about their opening hours listed on the web site. The answering machine message said that the Embassy was closed and we should call back during open hours which are 8:30 am to 5:30 pm, Monday through Friday. Since it was 10:30 on a Monday, I called Darin to ask if this was enough of an emergency to stay on the line for emergency assistance. He tells me to go for it, so I call back and stay on the line.
Usually when you call the American Embassy in Luxembourg, the phone is answered by a woman with a heavy French accent. But this time, it was answered by someone who identified himself as a Marine. I told him that it wasn't really an emergency, and I hated to bother him, but I couldn't figure out from the answering machine message when the Embassy would be open. I told him that the message said Monday through Friday, and today is Monday. He reminded me that it's a holiday in the States, and so Embassy staff have a holiday today. "Oh, right," I said. "Today is Columbus Day. I should have remembered that."
He was very nice. He said that it's really no problem, and that it would be easy to forgot because it's not a holiday that gets a lot of attention usually. He wished me a Happy Columbus Day, and I returned the wishes. He was definitely nicer than the French women who work there. It's good to know that if there is an emergency, then the phones get answered by very polite Marines who can speak American. But I felt bad that I had bothered him when it wasn't an emergency.
Looking back on this past year, I can see why everyone said that the first year would be the most difficult. Adjusting to new holidays and trying to celebrate the traditions of the American holidays would be easier the next time around.
Then some friends of ours offered to lend us a car for a couple of weeks, starting on 1 July. Perfect! So that day, a Friday, I left work and took the train out to Liz and Stu's house. Liz had me take a test drive in the car before I left. Darin wanted to go somewhere as soon as I got home, but it was already 19:00. So Saturday morning Darin and I went to Conforama and the Belle Etoile for some shopping. There was a Dixieland band playing in the halls at Belle Etoile. It was nice, and it reminded us of the Republican picnic we used to attend in Virginia.
After a quick snack, we went out to find the American picnic at about 16:30. The directions were not very good, and we ended up in France, but turned around and found the place. We parked where they told us to and took the bus to the park.
The picnic was at a place called Parc Merveilleux near Bettembourg. They had amazing playgrounds, rides for the kids (though the rides were mostly for kids younger than mine), and a zoo. The US Embassy had set up tents, and in the tents was free food: hot dogs with Wonder Bread buns (and relish and ketchup), Pizza Hut pizza, brownies and cookies, ice cream, popcorn, blue cotton candy, and American beer and sodas. They had a live country band that played, and three groups of country line dancers that used country CDs, and a local city band that played some American music, including music from "Pirates of the Caribbean." And the Ambassador spoke, and then the band played the Star Spangled Banner and the Luxembourg National Anthem, which is very calm and quiet compared to ours. They also had set up bull riding with lots of padding around for the kids. M especially enjoyed that. It drizzled a bit early on, but then it cleared up, and it was nice temperatures, and nice to sit out on a veranda and listen to the music. I met a lady named Pam who lives in Nancy, France with her French husband. She had never come before, but her husband really liked it, so they said they would see me again next year. And we met a couple named Jill and Chris. She is from Canada, and he is from Texas. And we saw my friends Cary and Kristina, the French horn players. The picnic started at 17:00 and lasted until 22:00.
After church on Sunday, we drove to Kirshberg to the mall for shopping. The stores are usually closed on Sunday, but 3 July was an exception because it was the start of the summer sales. So we ate at Subway (very American), and then went to Auchan to buy a TV set. Then we drove the TV set home and drove back into the center city for Evensong at the Anglican church. It was a nice service.
Then we walked to Place D'Armes to the outside tables at Quick. There was a city band playing, from Schuttrange. We caught the end, and I bought everyone supper. Then we stayed for the next concert, the "Rhythm and Swing Big Band" from Trier, Germany at 20:30. During that concert, I bought everyone ice cream. About 21:40, the girls were getting a bit restless, and maybe Darin also, so we went for a walk around the city walls. We didn't get home until midnight.
Monday (The Fourth) we went to the military cemeteries at Hamm (American) and Sandweiler (German). But then it really started raining, so we went to Aldi for pizza and soda, and spent the rest of the day eating and watching movies at home. I really wish I had remembered to bring my Ronald Reagan/Irving Berlin movie (This is the Army) in my suitcase. I love to watch that on the Fourth of July. I also usually watch 1776, and this year I have them both on DVD, just not in Luxembourg. Oh well. Hopefully we'll have all our stuff with us when the 4th of July rolls around again.
Our next big holiday crisis was for Thanksgiving. I tried to talk the girls into eating something other than turkey, but they were determined. Turkey is a fairly traditional meal in France and Luxembourg for Christmas and/or New Year, but you can't usually find them in the stores in November. So I convinced Vincent from my office to go with me to his favorite butcher shop, and he helped me order a large turkey for Thanksgiving. The owner's name is Yves Krack, and I talked with him personally. He said that big turkeys are no problem because he has lots of American clients and he understands American Thanksgiving. The name of his shop is Boucherie Krack, and his sign has pigs running very fast. As an American, or at least an English speaker, I can't help but think of pigs on crack.
I had suggested early in the planning stages that since it's not a holiday in Luxembourg, we could do something really different on Thanksgiving, like go to a movie and to the Subway for turkey sandwiches. That idea didn't seem to fly at first, but then I guess it started to catch on, except that everyone still wanted a big turkey at home. So the plan became to go to the movies and Subway on Thursday for Thanksgiving Day itself, and then to have the big turkey dinner on Saturday. There was also some concern that if I had to work that day (which I did), then they would have to work on school. I gave them a holiday with school assignments only for Monday-Wednesday. I convinced then that Thanksgiving could be good even if it wasn't exactly the same, and the good times for the 4th of July helped me make my case. Just because it isn't exactly the same (Macy's parade, turkey, and football), doesn't mean it can't be fun.
I was a little bit nervous about going to the butcher shop by myself since my French is still not so good, but when I walked into the butcher shop on Wednesday, the lady knew exactly who I was -- I didn't have to explain anything. "You're the American lady who wanted the big turkey, right?" It wasn't the 10 kg turkey they were trying to find for me, only 7.33 kg, but that was fine. When I went to order it, the owner of the store was all excited about trying to find a 10 kg turkey that I didn't have the heart to tell him that 8 kg would be fine. The owner seemed so excited to have an American client. 7.33 kg works out to about 16 pounds.
On Thanksgiving Day itself, Darin had the girls practice the piano, and then they all came downtown to eat lunch with me at the Quick. Then they went out to the Auchan to finish the shopping. They did find some yams from Israel, and some marshmallows. I met them after work at the Auchan to go to the movies together, The Legend of Zorro. The music was excellent, the themes done by James Horner around a lot of traditional music like "Malaguena", and also some lovely songs by Eduardo Gamboa. It felt like a very American movie.
When we got out of the movie, we went to our usual spot -- Subway for dinner. Some of us had turkey sandwiches. (The Subway is just downstairs from the movie theater.) When we left Subway, we saw that it was snowing. The girls were very excited. We took the bus to the station and then to home. By the time we were home the snow was already coating the trees and making the roads slippery.
The turkey dinner on Saturday was a success. Everyone seemed very happy with the results. My youngest and I set the table, and everything looked really nice. Besides the turkey, we had mashed potatoes and gravy, Darin's sweet potato casserole, Brussel sprouts, broccoli with cheese, and cornbread. In the States I would buy crescent rolls, but I was feeling like I wanted something more American, so Darin made cornbread for us instead. We never did find the pumpkin we needed for the pie. I know they have pumpkin here, but I didn't buy it when I had the chance and then I didn't see it again. We had vanilla ice cream for desert instead.
We watched Chicken Run that afternoon, and then Darin listened to football. We also did piano lessons.
All in all, I think that our first Thanksgiving in Europe was a success.
Christmas didn't seem like such a shock, maybe because it's a holiday here and in the States. They celebrate St. Nicholas Day (6 Dec) here, but we've always celebrated that in the States. I had always wanted Santa Claus to be separate from Jesus' birthday.
The Christmas lights and trees in town were really pretty, and with sunset at about 16:30 right around Christmas, there was a lot of time to see the lights.
But even though familiar, nothing in Europe is quite what I expect. I had a surreal moment at work on 25 November. "Surreal" happens more often in Europe for me than in America. I suppose just living in Europe is still a bit surreal in itself. But this moment was special.
I was in my office, about 16:00, and I hear what sounds like a marching band playing a polka. They are getting closer. When they sound like they are really close, I get up and look out my window. It's a band of marching Santas. Very strange. Then the polka that I didn't recognize ends, and they start up a new song -- "Roll Out the Barrel." The marching Santas march on down the street. I'm just standing by my window thinking, "Did that really happen?", when Bertrand comes in and says, "Did you see the Santa Band?"
"Playing 'Roll Out the Barrel'?", I ask.
"Yes, of course," he answers.
Just one of the many pleasures of being in Europe.
Christmas weekend was nice. On Christmas Eve, I made the girls stay up until past midnight singing Christmas carols at the piano, then we slept until 9:00 on Christmas morning. We ate breakfast, did more singing (but not the whole hymnal this time), read the Christmas story from the Bible, and then started opening gifts about noon. We took a break for lunch at 14:00, and then came back and opened the rest of the gifts. We spent Christmas evening and Boxing Day (also a holiday here) watching new movies (Moonstruck, Kingdom of Heaven, and Episodes I-IV of Star Wars though only Episode III was new) and playing with new games and toys.
After Christmas was over, I was focusing on the girls' January birthdays, and I wasn't thinking much about New Year's Day. When the day came, we decided to finish watching some of the new movies we'd gotten for Christmas. I was wondering how we would know it was midnight if we couldn't watch the big ball in Times Square, but I shouldn't have worried. We had been hearing a few random fireworks through the evening (and even while I was at work the week before), but when midnight came they started for real, all over town. Darin and some of the girls went outside for a while to watch, but I stayed inside and watched from the windows where it was warmer. It was so much nicer than watching something on TV.
My middlest daughter has an August birthday, and she got to spend her birthday at the Mall of America with her grandparents when we were back in the States over the summer. So how do you celebrate for the other two in Luxembourg? At first the girls wanted to spend the weekend in the Black Forest in Germany because we have really happy memories from being there a few years ago on vacation. But this year in Luxembourg, we still don't have a car, and a trip to the Black Forest seemed really difficult.
So the day before their birthday, Darin took the girls to see King Kong on the big screen, and I met them for supper at -- you guessed it -- the only American restaurant in town, Subway.
On the day of their birthday, they spent the mornings decorating their birthday cakes while I was at work, but I made it home about 12:30, and we opened gifts. Then we played games and they played with their new Barbies. It was a very low-key day, but hopefully next year we can have a real birthday party and do something special, maybe even invite over some friends.
Of course, some holidays that are holidays here aren't holidays in the States. Easter Monday for one. The shops are mostly closed, but in the city center, near the palace, there is a craft show. I got there about 08h30, and when I left a little after 10h00, it was starting to get crowded. They said (on the web site for Americans) that the traditional thing to buy in Luxembourg for Easter Monday was a bird whistle. And that seems like it would be very cool, and it was for a while. But when it gets crowded, and every little kid is blowing on a whistle, it was just a bit too much.
Luxembourg also has a holiday for May Day (1 May), Ascension Day, and Pentecost Monday. The next big holiday is in June for the Grand Duke's birthday, which is really in April. But the official holiday is on the birthday of some past GD, and there are fireworks and parades. So it's a bit like the 4th of July in America.
And then there are the holidays that they don't have here. One of them is the 11th of November, which is celebrated in Belgium and France, but not in Germany or Luxembourg. I guess that Luxembourg identifies more with Germany when it comes to the wars?
One holiday they don't celebrate at all in Europe is Columbus Day, which I understand completely. We needed to have something notarized around the time of Columbus Day, and I called the American Embassy to ask about notary services because there was some contradiction about their opening hours listed on the web site. The answering machine message said that the Embassy was closed and we should call back during open hours which are 8:30 am to 5:30 pm, Monday through Friday. Since it was 10:30 on a Monday, I called Darin to ask if this was enough of an emergency to stay on the line for emergency assistance. He tells me to go for it, so I call back and stay on the line.
Usually when you call the American Embassy in Luxembourg, the phone is answered by a woman with a heavy French accent. But this time, it was answered by someone who identified himself as a Marine. I told him that it wasn't really an emergency, and I hated to bother him, but I couldn't figure out from the answering machine message when the Embassy would be open. I told him that the message said Monday through Friday, and today is Monday. He reminded me that it's a holiday in the States, and so Embassy staff have a holiday today. "Oh, right," I said. "Today is Columbus Day. I should have remembered that."
He was very nice. He said that it's really no problem, and that it would be easy to forgot because it's not a holiday that gets a lot of attention usually. He wished me a Happy Columbus Day, and I returned the wishes. He was definitely nicer than the French women who work there. It's good to know that if there is an emergency, then the phones get answered by very polite Marines who can speak American. But I felt bad that I had bothered him when it wasn't an emergency.
Looking back on this past year, I can see why everyone said that the first year would be the most difficult. Adjusting to new holidays and trying to celebrate the traditions of the American holidays would be easier the next time around.
27 December, 2005
07 December, 2005
Friendliness and Politeness
The Luxembourgish people, for the most part, are not very friendly to foreigners and tourists. Fortunately for the foreigners and tourists, the natives are a minority in this city. Which explains in good part why they don't like foreigners.
On the other hand, the foreigners here -- the Italians, French, German, and British that I've met -- are very friendly. (I have run into only 1 French person who is openly hostile to Americans, and he's someone I've known for years, a fellow statistician.) Many of the people in Kehlen are foreign, but one of our new neighbors is Luxembourgish, and I've been warned already that they won't like us, and they won't speak to us. You just have to accept that some people will not like you no matter what and go on with your life, and then be really thankful for all the really very friendly people that are here, even if they aren't natives.
One of the meanest natives I've met is the woman at the bank that was supposed to help me open my account. But fortunately for me, she's retired now, so now I can go to the bank and speak to someone who was nice instead.
In my experience, it is the older people who are the rudest, though sometimes you also find a rude teenager. (But teenagers tend to be rude the world over, I believe.) I'm not sure if they feel they are entitled to do as the please because they are old, or perhaps it is their hostility to the foreigners who are taking over the country. I'm not sure. I believe in being nice to the elderly, but some of them try my resolve to be nice.
Waiting in line is a good example. There are people who think nothing about cutting into a line, or even pushing to get to be the next person in line. And when the person who is pushing is a little old lady, you don't want to push back, and so they have the advantage. I think what irritates me the most is that if they would ask, I would let them go first. This would be especially true if they have only one thing to purchase or if they are older than me. But to have them push their way to the front is simply rude. If I try to discuss the situation, they won't answer, no matter if I try English, French, or German.
Yesterday evening was a good example. My youngest daughter and I were Christmas shopping at a store called Blokker, and she found something to buy as a gift. We got in the line at the only register open. There was one man who was in the process of paying and then a lady, and then us. My daughter says her shoe is broken, and when I bend down to look, an old lady squeezes in ahead of me. When I stand up, she is standing way too close to me, and seriously invading my personal space, but I'm not moving because I was in line.
There is some trouble with the computer for the register, but eventually the person finishes paying, and when he leaves, the rude old lady gets makes sure that she is right behind the other lady, and we are completely cut off.
Then the register seriously stops working, and the girl is calling for help, but help doesn't come and doesn't come. She leaves and brings someone back with her. By this time, there are at least 12 people in line, maybe closer to 15. The manager works on the register for a little bit, and then hands her a card and a key. She goes to the other side of the store to the other register, and people are shoving and pushing to get in the new line. There was no way that I could have been close to the beginning of the new line because we started out so far away from the other register. I would have left except that my daughter really wanted what we had picked out. The really rude lady who had cut the line in front of me is now trying to force her way into the new line. The other lady who had been waiting the very longest leaves her purchase on the counter and leaves the store. I'm watching, but I don't know what to do. I don't want to be at the end of the new line, and I really want to give up and leave the store. I tell the manager that I hate the way the lines are in Luxembourg and that I should be at the front of the new line because I have been waiting the longest of anyone. He says to me that he understands because it also happens to him when he is shopping, and he will try to help. He says that in France they understand lines and respect lines, but in Luxembourg, the people are very rude.
He says if I pay cash, he can get me through, he thinks. So he scans our things, I pay, but the receipt won't print. I tell him that we don't need a receipt (we won't need to return this item). As we leave the store, people are now pushing to be in line at his register, but he has the top of the machine open and he's trying to fix the printing part.
The man has a point -- the French might not like Americans, but they do seem to respect a line when they see it. Germans are also very polite. I really don't understand where the lack of politeness and friendliness comes from in Luxembourg.
On the other hand, the foreigners here -- the Italians, French, German, and British that I've met -- are very friendly. (I have run into only 1 French person who is openly hostile to Americans, and he's someone I've known for years, a fellow statistician.) Many of the people in Kehlen are foreign, but one of our new neighbors is Luxembourgish, and I've been warned already that they won't like us, and they won't speak to us. You just have to accept that some people will not like you no matter what and go on with your life, and then be really thankful for all the really very friendly people that are here, even if they aren't natives.
One of the meanest natives I've met is the woman at the bank that was supposed to help me open my account. But fortunately for me, she's retired now, so now I can go to the bank and speak to someone who was nice instead.
In my experience, it is the older people who are the rudest, though sometimes you also find a rude teenager. (But teenagers tend to be rude the world over, I believe.) I'm not sure if they feel they are entitled to do as the please because they are old, or perhaps it is their hostility to the foreigners who are taking over the country. I'm not sure. I believe in being nice to the elderly, but some of them try my resolve to be nice.
Waiting in line is a good example. There are people who think nothing about cutting into a line, or even pushing to get to be the next person in line. And when the person who is pushing is a little old lady, you don't want to push back, and so they have the advantage. I think what irritates me the most is that if they would ask, I would let them go first. This would be especially true if they have only one thing to purchase or if they are older than me. But to have them push their way to the front is simply rude. If I try to discuss the situation, they won't answer, no matter if I try English, French, or German.
Yesterday evening was a good example. My youngest daughter and I were Christmas shopping at a store called Blokker, and she found something to buy as a gift. We got in the line at the only register open. There was one man who was in the process of paying and then a lady, and then us. My daughter says her shoe is broken, and when I bend down to look, an old lady squeezes in ahead of me. When I stand up, she is standing way too close to me, and seriously invading my personal space, but I'm not moving because I was in line.
There is some trouble with the computer for the register, but eventually the person finishes paying, and when he leaves, the rude old lady gets makes sure that she is right behind the other lady, and we are completely cut off.
Then the register seriously stops working, and the girl is calling for help, but help doesn't come and doesn't come. She leaves and brings someone back with her. By this time, there are at least 12 people in line, maybe closer to 15. The manager works on the register for a little bit, and then hands her a card and a key. She goes to the other side of the store to the other register, and people are shoving and pushing to get in the new line. There was no way that I could have been close to the beginning of the new line because we started out so far away from the other register. I would have left except that my daughter really wanted what we had picked out. The really rude lady who had cut the line in front of me is now trying to force her way into the new line. The other lady who had been waiting the very longest leaves her purchase on the counter and leaves the store. I'm watching, but I don't know what to do. I don't want to be at the end of the new line, and I really want to give up and leave the store. I tell the manager that I hate the way the lines are in Luxembourg and that I should be at the front of the new line because I have been waiting the longest of anyone. He says to me that he understands because it also happens to him when he is shopping, and he will try to help. He says that in France they understand lines and respect lines, but in Luxembourg, the people are very rude.
He says if I pay cash, he can get me through, he thinks. So he scans our things, I pay, but the receipt won't print. I tell him that we don't need a receipt (we won't need to return this item). As we leave the store, people are now pushing to be in line at his register, but he has the top of the machine open and he's trying to fix the printing part.
The man has a point -- the French might not like Americans, but they do seem to respect a line when they see it. Germans are also very polite. I really don't understand where the lack of politeness and friendliness comes from in Luxembourg.
30 November, 2005
22 November, 2005
Lessons in Packing (Trade Secrets Revealed)
From my husband's blog:
After six months of living in Luxembourg, we finally have our things from the States. Part of the delay was an argument over whether or not we would have to pay for an extra large shipping container. Now that we are opening boxes, the problem is very clear. Most of the boxes that were packed by the "professionals" were only half full. For the large wardrobe boxes, that means 10-15 sq. feet per box. I know, "Contents packed by weight. Some settling may have occurred during shipping." No wonder our load was almost too big for a forty foot container!
Before this move, I thought that I was unqualified to pack for an ocean move. Now I know all the moving trade secrets. I hope they do not sue me for letting out all the secrets. It is probably a very select few who ever learn those secrets. I will now divulge those very secrets. There is some packing school somewhere that I will put out of business by divulging those secrets on my blog. Do not be surprised if they sue me and make me dismantle my blog. I am not afraid. I will proclaim the moving secrets so all who need them will have the knowledge to pack their own things or even start a moving company. Are you ready? Make sure you follow them very carefully or I cannot be held liable for any malfeasance that may arise as a consequence. (Or is that malapropism? Yes, I'm dangerous with a dictionary.)
Here they are: Get big box. Throw stuff in box. Tape box.
I know this may start a revolution of people packing for themselves. Yes, some movers may lose their jobs, but knowledge for the people is more important. Don't worry about me. Just use this knowledge in your next move. Give this useful information to friends and family. The spread of this knowledge will validate my life. My name may be recorded in history, if not, the revolution which I have begun will live and expand until the end of this very world. People will be set free to pack for themselves. That freedom will be enjoyed by relocators across the globe and for countless generations. That legacy is greater than that which any man could dream, any man could strive, or any man could hope.
And other advantage we have over the professionals. We wash our hands. Of course, packed dishes should always be washed, but it motivates us even more after we noticed that some of the packers were not washing their hands after visiting the restroom. All those germs are probably dead after such a long time in transit, but the thought of it makes us want to clean.
After six months of living in Luxembourg, we finally have our things from the States. Part of the delay was an argument over whether or not we would have to pay for an extra large shipping container. Now that we are opening boxes, the problem is very clear. Most of the boxes that were packed by the "professionals" were only half full. For the large wardrobe boxes, that means 10-15 sq. feet per box. I know, "Contents packed by weight. Some settling may have occurred during shipping." No wonder our load was almost too big for a forty foot container!
Before this move, I thought that I was unqualified to pack for an ocean move. Now I know all the moving trade secrets. I hope they do not sue me for letting out all the secrets. It is probably a very select few who ever learn those secrets. I will now divulge those very secrets. There is some packing school somewhere that I will put out of business by divulging those secrets on my blog. Do not be surprised if they sue me and make me dismantle my blog. I am not afraid. I will proclaim the moving secrets so all who need them will have the knowledge to pack their own things or even start a moving company. Are you ready? Make sure you follow them very carefully or I cannot be held liable for any malfeasance that may arise as a consequence. (Or is that malapropism? Yes, I'm dangerous with a dictionary.)
Here they are: Get big box. Throw stuff in box. Tape box.
I know this may start a revolution of people packing for themselves. Yes, some movers may lose their jobs, but knowledge for the people is more important. Don't worry about me. Just use this knowledge in your next move. Give this useful information to friends and family. The spread of this knowledge will validate my life. My name may be recorded in history, if not, the revolution which I have begun will live and expand until the end of this very world. People will be set free to pack for themselves. That freedom will be enjoyed by relocators across the globe and for countless generations. That legacy is greater than that which any man could dream, any man could strive, or any man could hope.
And other advantage we have over the professionals. We wash our hands. Of course, packed dishes should always be washed, but it motivates us even more after we noticed that some of the packers were not washing their hands after visiting the restroom. All those germs are probably dead after such a long time in transit, but the thought of it makes us want to clean.
Hiring a Moving Company
Our many troubles with two different moving companies are chronicled in a footnote below. (See "Timeline of the Moving Nightmare.") This post lists what we have learned for hiring the next moving company (the one that moves us back to the States).
Sales People
The person who you deal with at the front end, before any contracts are signed, is only a sales person. Before you sign anything, find out who you else you will talk to in the chain (perhaps someone with a title like "moving consultant") and talk to them as well. It would also be helpful to talk to someone who is in charge, a manager of some kind.
Are the other people in the company easy to get in touch with? Do they respond quickly to answering machine messages and email? Do they tell you the same story about the moving process as the sales person?
We found this to be a problem with both moving companies we hired. What the sales person told us wasn't always what the others in the company believed to be true. Not that they were lying (or maybe they were), but it seemed more that the people in the company weren't speaking to each other. We also found that though the sales people were friendly and responded quickly to requests, this was often not true for anyone else in the company.
One thing that impressed me about the Dutch moving company, Dijkshoorn Euromovers, that contracted with Access to take care of the move on this side of the Atlantic was that they understood customer service. We went from weeks with absolutely no information to email and phone calls three or four times a day.
Paper work
The Dutch company seemed very competent. There was a lot of paperwork for Luxembourg, and they handled it all quite well.
We had been instructed by our sales person from both Sea & Air and Access to keep a list of everything that we pack ourselves because customs in Europe will need a list. It didn't need to be too specific, but should be labels such as "clothes", "toys", "dishes", etc. So we did that. I numbered the boxes with a big red marker, and we made the list. We gave it to the guys packing the house who were also keeping a list, using stickers to number the boxes. I didn't know exactly how they were going to reconcile their numbers with our numbers, but I didn't worry too much at the time.
As expected, the Luxembourg customs officials wanted to see the packing list, but they wanted it in French. Mark at Dijkshoorn said they would translate it for 150 Euros. We decided that we could do just as well because we knew our stuff, so Mark faxed the packing list to my office. The list from Access had someone else's name printed at the top for the "customer name", but that name was crossed off and ours written in by hand. Most of the items were labeled only as box. It was incredibly discouraging. We spent hours making up a packing list for 267 pieces, and then translating it into French. By thinking back to the list I had done for our packing, and then trying to remember the order they went in packing the house, we managed to come up with a decent packing list. A friend at work helped me fix the French. (He was quite amused at my French translations.)
Luxembourg customs requested a scan of the container before it was unloaded which cost us almost 300 Euros but couldn't be avoided. Mark at Dijkshoorn Euromovers said that would speed up the process at the border. Because of the fudged inventory list, if customs had wanted to find something specific they saw in the scan, it would have taken a very long time.
How much experience do the people you talk to have with customs? If they don't handle that part of the move, ask to speak to the person who knows. Who have they contracted with to work with customs on the other side of the ocean?
Also, make sure that you keep for yourself a list of the contents of the container. It could come in useful.
Packing
In a previous entry (highly recommended), my husband has given away all the trade secrets so that you can pack your own boxes. When we move back to the States, that is what we are going to do. No more hiring packers for our family!
Before the move, before the "professional" packers came, while we were packing our valuables and favorite toys, Darin was making us do an "ocean voyage test" on all the boxes, which meant shaking them and moving them like ocean waves to see if they rattled. The men who packed our things didn't worry at all about breakage. They put in lamps without any protection, which means we need new lamp shades. Though they wrapped the piano and china cabinet in blankets, other important furniture was left completely unprotected. Books were thrown into boxes, not even laid flat, so that a lot of our paperback books now have damaged pages and covers. Almost none of the boxes they packed were full. And then they have the nerve to tell us that our stuff is too big for a 40' container so they need an extra $4,000 for a larger container. They could have just filled the boxes and there would have been no question about the limits of a 40' container.
We are never going to hire packing done again. If you decide that you can't do all the packing yourself, make sure that you or someone you trust is there to watch and protect the most valuable things.
Fortunately, in spite of all the problems, we've seen very little breakage.
Our plans for moving back
We decided before we came that we are going to leave some of our furniture in Luxembourg. Some of our furniture is nothing special and completely replaceable. So our goal is to reduce down to a 20' container for the move back. With the arguments about whether our stuff would fit into a 40' container for the voyage to Luxembourg, we started to have our doubts about the 20' container. But now that we see how much empty space was in the boxes, and we see how much stuff we have already thrown away, given away (kids books and clothes), or recycled, we believe again that we can make it into a 20' container in a couple of years.
So for the next move, we want to contract only for the moving of a 20' shipping container. There are several companies that have prices for "You pack, we ship." We make sure that they are familiar with customs in the States, and we hire a company. I would hire Dijkshoorn Euromovers if they would give us a price for the self-packing method.
We order the container far in advance (a couple of weeks, at least) of the date we fly back. We make sure we have our boxes packed ourselves in advance of the container coming. We make sure that what is left will fit in our suitcases, meaning that we've also packed our suitcases. We load the container ourselves. Anything left in the house we arrange to go to the next tenants or a thrift store.
Of course, before we move back to the States, we have to decide where we'll be living.
Sales People
The person who you deal with at the front end, before any contracts are signed, is only a sales person. Before you sign anything, find out who you else you will talk to in the chain (perhaps someone with a title like "moving consultant") and talk to them as well. It would also be helpful to talk to someone who is in charge, a manager of some kind.
Are the other people in the company easy to get in touch with? Do they respond quickly to answering machine messages and email? Do they tell you the same story about the moving process as the sales person?
We found this to be a problem with both moving companies we hired. What the sales person told us wasn't always what the others in the company believed to be true. Not that they were lying (or maybe they were), but it seemed more that the people in the company weren't speaking to each other. We also found that though the sales people were friendly and responded quickly to requests, this was often not true for anyone else in the company.
One thing that impressed me about the Dutch moving company, Dijkshoorn Euromovers, that contracted with Access to take care of the move on this side of the Atlantic was that they understood customer service. We went from weeks with absolutely no information to email and phone calls three or four times a day.
Paper work
The Dutch company seemed very competent. There was a lot of paperwork for Luxembourg, and they handled it all quite well.
We had been instructed by our sales person from both Sea & Air and Access to keep a list of everything that we pack ourselves because customs in Europe will need a list. It didn't need to be too specific, but should be labels such as "clothes", "toys", "dishes", etc. So we did that. I numbered the boxes with a big red marker, and we made the list. We gave it to the guys packing the house who were also keeping a list, using stickers to number the boxes. I didn't know exactly how they were going to reconcile their numbers with our numbers, but I didn't worry too much at the time.
As expected, the Luxembourg customs officials wanted to see the packing list, but they wanted it in French. Mark at Dijkshoorn said they would translate it for 150 Euros. We decided that we could do just as well because we knew our stuff, so Mark faxed the packing list to my office. The list from Access had someone else's name printed at the top for the "customer name", but that name was crossed off and ours written in by hand. Most of the items were labeled only as box. It was incredibly discouraging. We spent hours making up a packing list for 267 pieces, and then translating it into French. By thinking back to the list I had done for our packing, and then trying to remember the order they went in packing the house, we managed to come up with a decent packing list. A friend at work helped me fix the French. (He was quite amused at my French translations.)
Luxembourg customs requested a scan of the container before it was unloaded which cost us almost 300 Euros but couldn't be avoided. Mark at Dijkshoorn Euromovers said that would speed up the process at the border. Because of the fudged inventory list, if customs had wanted to find something specific they saw in the scan, it would have taken a very long time.
How much experience do the people you talk to have with customs? If they don't handle that part of the move, ask to speak to the person who knows. Who have they contracted with to work with customs on the other side of the ocean?
Also, make sure that you keep for yourself a list of the contents of the container. It could come in useful.
Packing
In a previous entry (highly recommended), my husband has given away all the trade secrets so that you can pack your own boxes. When we move back to the States, that is what we are going to do. No more hiring packers for our family!
Before the move, before the "professional" packers came, while we were packing our valuables and favorite toys, Darin was making us do an "ocean voyage test" on all the boxes, which meant shaking them and moving them like ocean waves to see if they rattled. The men who packed our things didn't worry at all about breakage. They put in lamps without any protection, which means we need new lamp shades. Though they wrapped the piano and china cabinet in blankets, other important furniture was left completely unprotected. Books were thrown into boxes, not even laid flat, so that a lot of our paperback books now have damaged pages and covers. Almost none of the boxes they packed were full. And then they have the nerve to tell us that our stuff is too big for a 40' container so they need an extra $4,000 for a larger container. They could have just filled the boxes and there would have been no question about the limits of a 40' container.
We are never going to hire packing done again. If you decide that you can't do all the packing yourself, make sure that you or someone you trust is there to watch and protect the most valuable things.
Fortunately, in spite of all the problems, we've seen very little breakage.
Our plans for moving back
We decided before we came that we are going to leave some of our furniture in Luxembourg. Some of our furniture is nothing special and completely replaceable. So our goal is to reduce down to a 20' container for the move back. With the arguments about whether our stuff would fit into a 40' container for the voyage to Luxembourg, we started to have our doubts about the 20' container. But now that we see how much empty space was in the boxes, and we see how much stuff we have already thrown away, given away (kids books and clothes), or recycled, we believe again that we can make it into a 20' container in a couple of years.
So for the next move, we want to contract only for the moving of a 20' shipping container. There are several companies that have prices for "You pack, we ship." We make sure that they are familiar with customs in the States, and we hire a company. I would hire Dijkshoorn Euromovers if they would give us a price for the self-packing method.
We order the container far in advance (a couple of weeks, at least) of the date we fly back. We make sure we have our boxes packed ourselves in advance of the container coming. We make sure that what is left will fit in our suitcases, meaning that we've also packed our suitcases. We load the container ourselves. Anything left in the house we arrange to go to the next tenants or a thrift store.
Of course, before we move back to the States, we have to decide where we'll be living.
21 November, 2005
Schooling and Homeschooling in Luxembourg
We have been homeschooling our girls in the States since our youngest was 5. She's 12 now, so we are on our 8th year of homeschooling. I have been working full-time, and my husband teaches them at home. I help with some subjects in the evenings, and I'm in charge of scheduling and shopping for schools/curriculum.
We've been told by many Luxembourgers about the very high quality of the schools in Luxembourg. One person in particular, a graduate of the system herself, told us that the public schools in Luxembourg are the "toughest" in the world, and that when the kids finish school here, they can go to "universities in the States and skip the first two years" since US high schools are so terrible.
I've talked to lots of kids in this country, both in the Luxembourg schools and in the European schools about what they are studying in math -- my personal yardstick to measure against what my kids are doing. Kids at the European school are behind my kids by more than a year, and the kids at the Luxembourg schools are even farther behind in math. So maybe a student from Luxembourg could skip two years of foreign language requirements, but they couldn't skip any math, and they probably would need remedial English classes.
Luxembourg children in the public school system learn first Luxembourgish and then German. I've been told by Germans living here that the German they learn still isn't "hoch Deutsch", meaning they can't communicate in formal German. When they are about 10 years old, they start learning French, and eventually they will learn English as their fourth language. Most Luxembourgers, if they can speak English, do not speak it well enough to go to a university in the States.
I went to the UNESCO web site, after talking to some people at church, to compare the scores from Luxembourg to the rest of Europe. The trend in Luxembourg is for more and more kids to drop out of school as soon as they are allowed, and for fewer and fewer to go on to a university. Test scores are dropping. The Luxembourg schools are designed to produce ployglots, but not necessarily even good linguists.
Several of the British families I know at church have kids who are grown or at universities in England, and their kids did very well in the Luxembourgish school system. Their kids did very well in the universities and the work force, but partly because they were speaking English at home, and I know of several who took extra classes in math and computers outside of school when they were young.
So when someone tells me that the Luxembourg schools are "tough," in a way they are correct. It's very difficult to learn four different languages before you are allowed to graduate. But tough in this way doesn't translate into good, and it doesn't translate into skills that someone would need to get into a good university or to get a good job.
We thought briefly about putting the girls in public schools here. There are fewer religious issues here (with Luxembourg being officially Catholic), and fewer safety issues. Most people's advice was to put them in and let them "drown" for a while because in a couple of years they would be speaking all the languages you need to survive in Luxembourg schools, and then they will be doing really well. The problem with that is that we'll be moving back to the States in a few years, and the girls would be behind in everything except Luxembourgish, German, and French. We decided we needed to keep them on the American system. And since the American school here would cost us more than my salary, homeschooling was our only option.
My girls also wanted very much to continue in their Missionettes Bible clubs, clubs for girls sponsored by the Assemblies of God. They have been in the clubs since they were tiny (our oldest started at five, the youngest at three). They have made the "Honor" distinction in all the clubs they have been in so far. I got permission from our church in Virginia and the Potomac District to start Missionette clubs in Luxembourg -- homeschooling for Missionettes.
I had tried for ages to email the AG missionaries/pastors here with no luck, to tell them about our Missionettes clubs in English (their church is in French). Then one evening I was talking on the phone to an American who lives up the road, and she said I needed to call her friend Debbie because Debbie is an American with two girls and she homeschools. I asked Melanie Debbie's last name, and it was Reynolds, the AG missionary. So I called Debbie Reynolds, and I got all the scoop on how to homeschool in Luxembourg.
The entire key to homeschooling is to never use the word "home."
In Luxembourg, they allow "home" school for kids that have some kind of disease or handicap that won't let them be around other people. So they bring the list of things to teach the kids to your house, and then you teach them from the manual for that grade. Then at the end of the year, or maybe more often than that, they test the kids, and the entire thing has to be done in the languages here. No English.
So the key to being able to homeschool the American way is to explain that you want the kids on an American system because you're going back to America someday, so you're using the curriculum from a school in the States. Use the word "correspondence" frequently because it's a word they understand.
It will be a bit strange for us because the younger girls are in a transition from one school's curriculum to another school/curriculum. Also, we are about three months behind because they weren't doing school back in March-May when I was here in Luxembourg and they were with their father. (I didn't understand how completely dependent my husband was on my scheduling and organizing abilities.)
Our next step is to find a way to get letters from the schools and have them explain what we are doing. I have some hope that we can make it work.
There will be no summer vacation this year. We still need to make up those three months. And no living apart again either, because it's clear we need all of us together to make homeschooling work.
We've been told by many Luxembourgers about the very high quality of the schools in Luxembourg. One person in particular, a graduate of the system herself, told us that the public schools in Luxembourg are the "toughest" in the world, and that when the kids finish school here, they can go to "universities in the States and skip the first two years" since US high schools are so terrible.
I've talked to lots of kids in this country, both in the Luxembourg schools and in the European schools about what they are studying in math -- my personal yardstick to measure against what my kids are doing. Kids at the European school are behind my kids by more than a year, and the kids at the Luxembourg schools are even farther behind in math. So maybe a student from Luxembourg could skip two years of foreign language requirements, but they couldn't skip any math, and they probably would need remedial English classes.
Luxembourg children in the public school system learn first Luxembourgish and then German. I've been told by Germans living here that the German they learn still isn't "hoch Deutsch", meaning they can't communicate in formal German. When they are about 10 years old, they start learning French, and eventually they will learn English as their fourth language. Most Luxembourgers, if they can speak English, do not speak it well enough to go to a university in the States.
I went to the UNESCO web site, after talking to some people at church, to compare the scores from Luxembourg to the rest of Europe. The trend in Luxembourg is for more and more kids to drop out of school as soon as they are allowed, and for fewer and fewer to go on to a university. Test scores are dropping. The Luxembourg schools are designed to produce ployglots, but not necessarily even good linguists.
Several of the British families I know at church have kids who are grown or at universities in England, and their kids did very well in the Luxembourgish school system. Their kids did very well in the universities and the work force, but partly because they were speaking English at home, and I know of several who took extra classes in math and computers outside of school when they were young.
So when someone tells me that the Luxembourg schools are "tough," in a way they are correct. It's very difficult to learn four different languages before you are allowed to graduate. But tough in this way doesn't translate into good, and it doesn't translate into skills that someone would need to get into a good university or to get a good job.
We thought briefly about putting the girls in public schools here. There are fewer religious issues here (with Luxembourg being officially Catholic), and fewer safety issues. Most people's advice was to put them in and let them "drown" for a while because in a couple of years they would be speaking all the languages you need to survive in Luxembourg schools, and then they will be doing really well. The problem with that is that we'll be moving back to the States in a few years, and the girls would be behind in everything except Luxembourgish, German, and French. We decided we needed to keep them on the American system. And since the American school here would cost us more than my salary, homeschooling was our only option.
My girls also wanted very much to continue in their Missionettes Bible clubs, clubs for girls sponsored by the Assemblies of God. They have been in the clubs since they were tiny (our oldest started at five, the youngest at three). They have made the "Honor" distinction in all the clubs they have been in so far. I got permission from our church in Virginia and the Potomac District to start Missionette clubs in Luxembourg -- homeschooling for Missionettes.
I had tried for ages to email the AG missionaries/pastors here with no luck, to tell them about our Missionettes clubs in English (their church is in French). Then one evening I was talking on the phone to an American who lives up the road, and she said I needed to call her friend Debbie because Debbie is an American with two girls and she homeschools. I asked Melanie Debbie's last name, and it was Reynolds, the AG missionary. So I called Debbie Reynolds, and I got all the scoop on how to homeschool in Luxembourg.
The entire key to homeschooling is to never use the word "home."
In Luxembourg, they allow "home" school for kids that have some kind of disease or handicap that won't let them be around other people. So they bring the list of things to teach the kids to your house, and then you teach them from the manual for that grade. Then at the end of the year, or maybe more often than that, they test the kids, and the entire thing has to be done in the languages here. No English.
So the key to being able to homeschool the American way is to explain that you want the kids on an American system because you're going back to America someday, so you're using the curriculum from a school in the States. Use the word "correspondence" frequently because it's a word they understand.
It will be a bit strange for us because the younger girls are in a transition from one school's curriculum to another school/curriculum. Also, we are about three months behind because they weren't doing school back in March-May when I was here in Luxembourg and they were with their father. (I didn't understand how completely dependent my husband was on my scheduling and organizing abilities.)
Our next step is to find a way to get letters from the schools and have them explain what we are doing. I have some hope that we can make it work.
There will be no summer vacation this year. We still need to make up those three months. And no living apart again either, because it's clear we need all of us together to make homeschooling work.
18 November, 2005
Electricity: Lamps, Transformers, and Microwaves
OK, we got our stuff. That means we can start using our lamps. "Wait," you say, "will American lamps work in Europe since the voltage is different?" Actually, yes. A lamp is just wires to supply the bulb with power.
One might think that since the voltage is higher in Europe (220 volts, only 110 in the US) that you would need larger wires, but the opposite is true. The wires here are smaller because it is more efficient to transmit 220 volt electricity than 110.
That also means the plugs are bigger because the electricity can arc across a gap better, as evidenced when we plug an American plug into an adaptor. The girls were frightened to plug in the American computer because of the arc when they did. Now we have the computer plugged into a surge protector type outlet, so we can cut the power before we plug in the adaptor or the American plug.
Someone in America who had lived in Europe told us that we could use US lightbulbs in Europe. Early on, Darin tried a regular light bulb in a lamp from the States. That did not work. He blew the circuit and the bulb. (Now the hall lights won't work, but they are on a different circuit, so he tells us that it's not related to his light bulb testing.) He tested some compact fluorescent bulbs. They didn't blow any circuits, but they didn't last long with the 220 voltage.
Darin changed the plugs on the lamps, especially since we didn't intend on moving them back to the States anyway. The lights I had on the wall when I was a kid had very old cords on them, and the wall lights here mount directly to wires coming out of the wall, so Darin cut off the cords and will put new cords back on when we get to the States.
Lamps are about the only things that don't need a transformer to work.
However, we finally did something right when it came to moving, though it happened accidentally. I had ordered some transformers from a company in the States to be delivered so they could be packed with our things. But because of problems with the credit card (that weren't our fault, not like we were at the limit or something), the order was canceled. Then the stuff arrives, but the girls can't listen to their CD players because no transformers. Darin mentioned this to our neighbor who works for NATO, and his wife picked up some used transformers for us at the Thrift Shop on base, and very cheap. So now we have transformers, at about a tenth of what we would have paid in the States!
Microwave ovens and some clocks are the only things affected by a change in the hertz (50 cycles instead of 60). Transformers only change the voltage (110 in the US and 220 in Europe), not the hertz. We are borrowing a small microwave from another neighbor until we can buy one for ourselves.
One might think that since the voltage is higher in Europe (220 volts, only 110 in the US) that you would need larger wires, but the opposite is true. The wires here are smaller because it is more efficient to transmit 220 volt electricity than 110.
That also means the plugs are bigger because the electricity can arc across a gap better, as evidenced when we plug an American plug into an adaptor. The girls were frightened to plug in the American computer because of the arc when they did. Now we have the computer plugged into a surge protector type outlet, so we can cut the power before we plug in the adaptor or the American plug.
Someone in America who had lived in Europe told us that we could use US lightbulbs in Europe. Early on, Darin tried a regular light bulb in a lamp from the States. That did not work. He blew the circuit and the bulb. (Now the hall lights won't work, but they are on a different circuit, so he tells us that it's not related to his light bulb testing.) He tested some compact fluorescent bulbs. They didn't blow any circuits, but they didn't last long with the 220 voltage.
Darin changed the plugs on the lamps, especially since we didn't intend on moving them back to the States anyway. The lights I had on the wall when I was a kid had very old cords on them, and the wall lights here mount directly to wires coming out of the wall, so Darin cut off the cords and will put new cords back on when we get to the States.
Lamps are about the only things that don't need a transformer to work.
However, we finally did something right when it came to moving, though it happened accidentally. I had ordered some transformers from a company in the States to be delivered so they could be packed with our things. But because of problems with the credit card (that weren't our fault, not like we were at the limit or something), the order was canceled. Then the stuff arrives, but the girls can't listen to their CD players because no transformers. Darin mentioned this to our neighbor who works for NATO, and his wife picked up some used transformers for us at the Thrift Shop on base, and very cheap. So now we have transformers, at about a tenth of what we would have paid in the States!
Microwave ovens and some clocks are the only things affected by a change in the hertz (50 cycles instead of 60). Transformers only change the voltage (110 in the US and 220 in Europe), not the hertz. We are borrowing a small microwave from another neighbor until we can buy one for ourselves.
02 November, 2005
Timeline of a Moving Nightmare
First, we had hired Sea and Air Cargo International, based in Miami, who did nothing except come into our house and make a mess, call the police that we had abandoned our cat (which we hadn't), and kept our down payment for the move. So we had to find a new company. The next lowest bid was Access International, and to be honest, it was the only other company that we could afford.
Sea and Air Cargo International was the real disaster of the move, though I feel fortunate to have escaped with minimal damage. Basically, we paid them $1800 and they did nothing. In hindsight, it could have been worse, because as far as we can tell, nothing was stolen from the house.
Jan 2005: I sign a contract with a company in Luxembourg.
Feb 2005: I quit my government job.
Mar 2005: My contracts with Eurostat begin. I move to Europe without Darin and our three girls.
30 April 2005: We sign a contract with Sea and Air, and my company pays them $1800 as a down payment for our move, scheduled to load on 18 May from Virginia to Europe. Our sales person, Maria, tells us to relax because everything is under control and we have hire full-service packing, etc.
17 May 2005: Eleanor calls to tell us that the container is scheduled for 23 May. I explain that is incorrect because we are leaving for Europe on 21 May. I tell her we want to cancel. She says we can't cancel without 12 days notice, even though they have "postponed" our date with less than 24 hours notice. I talk to Idan Ohana who promises to personally oversee the move. He gives me his cell phone number and tells me I can call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I tell him we will leave the keys with our neighbor across the street. He says he will arrive on Sunday to pack the house, and that loading will begin when the container arrives on Monday.
22 May 2005: I try to call Idan from Europe. His phone is off. I call my real estate agent and my pastor. No one from Sea and Air is at the house.
23 May 2005: I call Idan from Europe again. He says that he was able to get the keys, but they can't pack the house because it's too messy and there is too much stuff. I tell him that it wouldn't have been a problem if we had been there because we could have told them what to leave out, if it really doesn't fit. He says he will call me again later.
24 May 2005: I call Idan again. He gives me a long story about how they couldn't get the container in the driveway and that the police told them they couldn't be there. So now there is too much stuff, and they will need a truck to carry the stuff to a container at some other location. Our driveway is much longer than 40 feet, and straight, and I can't understand why the police care that we have a container in our driveway. There is no neighborhood association, or anything like that. Idan says they will need more money.
25 May 2005 - 31 May 2005: Idan's phone is turned off.
1 June 2005: I talk to Idan again. He is back in Florida. He really still wants to be our mover, but he needs more money. They had to send the container to someone else since it didn't fit in our driveway, so he will have to schedule a new container and he needs more money because our house is really messy. He says that he looked at our furniture and realize we had nothing of value, so he's afraid to pack our house and put it in a container because we will decide that we don't want our belongings since we have nothing of value. (Maria had told us that we should pack everything of value ourselves, which we did.) I don't want to list for him everything we do have that's valuable, so I tell him we are canceling the move. I ask him why, when he left to return to Florida, he didn't leave the keys with our neighbor. He said it was because he still wanted the job.
2 June 2005: Friends of ours go to the house to capture the cat. The house is messier than when we left. There are pieces of metal and empty boxes everywhere.
2 June 2005: I call Idan and cancel the move. He says that the $1800 will NOT be refunded because he spent that money going to Virginia, and it wasn't his fault that the police wouldn't let them load the container. He says he will mail the keys overnight to our real estate agent in Virginia. I file my first complaint with the Better Business Bureau in Florida.
16 June 2005: Idan Ohana replies to the BBB that he will refund our money minus expenses and that the keys are already in the mail back to us.
13 July 2005: We send our deposit to Access International. They agree to be at the house on 27 and 28 July to pack the house.
27 July 2005: The men from Access arrive on time with a 1300 sq ft Budget Rent-a-Truck. Things seem to be doing smoothly. They pack the house and take the boxes and furniture to storage somewhere. Because of problems with Sea and Air Cargo, we tell Access that a container won't fit in our driveway. Later we discover that Sea and Air did have a container in the driveway. If Access could have brought in a container, this could have saved a lot of trouble later on, we discover.
28 July 2005: As the men leave, we are told that the container will cost an extra $4000 because we have 600 sq ft too much. This was a bit of a shock to us, and if it had been explained as we were packing the truck, we could have told them what to leave out. We assume that we can work it out later.
I'm going to skip some details here (for now), but we eventually come to an agreement to get back to the original estimate.
We talk to our neighbor across the street about the container. He says that Idan arrived on Monday for the keys, and the container was there Monday also. It sat in the driveway for two days, but there was no activity at the house except for a truck from Florida and came and went occasionally, but it was clear no one was really at the house or working. And still no keys from Sea and Air Cargo.
13 Sept 2005: I mail checks for all the charges to Access. In full. For the next few days, I ask for confirmation that they've received the checks. I finally get a message.
22 Sept 2005: I see that the checks have cleared by checking my bank balance. I write to ask for my receipts and for a date for the move. Nothing. I send email every day for a week. They don't answer my email or my phone messages. And it's difficult to get through on their voice mail system because we don't have a touch-tone phone at home, so I must call from the phone at work.
27 Sept 2005: I file a follow-up with the BBB in Florida for Sea and Air Cargo because we have still no refund and still no house keys.
28 Sept 2005: I finally am able to get through to Dan at Access, and I'm promised receipts. I think the past week bodes very badly for the rest of the move, but at this point, I'm afraid to change moving companies again. I explain that besides the receipts, we also need a date for the packing of the container so that we can have a friend there who will pull out the stuff we don't want packed so that everything will fit into the container.
29 Sept 2005: The receipts did arrive by email.
I had also requested the location of the storage unit so that we can send some friends over with a truck to pick up the things we want left behind. We've been told that we have 600 sq ft over the limit, but I think it's less than that, and there are some things that we don't need in Luxembourg, so we are confident we can make it fit into a 40 foot container. All my requests for the location of our belongings have been ignored. Completely. I have thought all along that the $4000 was a scam, and it's looking more and more like that.
4 Oct 2005: At around 6 pm, the phone rings. It was a guy with a fairly heavy Spanish accent. He said he was with our movers and needed Darin's social security number. When anyone asks for a social security number, it is probably a scam. So Darin had him tell the name of the moving company. He got it right, but Darin wanted more confirmation, so Darin talked to me and then called them back at the Access number. It was really Dan at Access and not a scam. Dan said that he personally oversaw the packing of our container and they squished everything in. After all that bickering over them raising the price for an oversized load and the company not wanting to pay and not trusting American movers and the extra European (expensive) bids, they got it all in. We had worked out a list of things to leave out if things did not fit, but we never sent it because they never communicate with us. We did not know when they were packing the container. We wanted to have someone there to help decide what to leave out and to haul stuff away. I don't think they wanted anyone overseeing them.
Now the question is: Did they really get everything in or did they leave some stuff out? We would rather have chosen what to leave out than have a few, possibly important, boxes missing. We had a list of unimportant things they could have left out -- big things that could really have created more room. We have to wait for about six weeks plus however long it takes me to unpack everything to see if anything is missing.
20 Oct 2005: Our goods have arrived in port in Holland. So far I like the Dutch moving company. We have gone from absolutely no information to email and phone calls three or four times a day. Luxembourg customs wants a packing list in French, and Access (the company that packed for us and was supposed to have the list) lost our list.
24 Oct 2005: We've been getting the paperwork together for customs. Our state-side movers must have lost the original packing list, because three-fourths of the items on the list we got to translate was "box". The town officials have been very professional. I went down for residency papers to prove that we actually lived here, and she printed, signed, stamped, tax stamped, and let me purchase them immediately. We also had to send copies of our rental agreement and my work contract. I don't know how many times we've had to give Luxembourg a copy of that contract. Maybe someday they will believe that I really work here.
26 Oct 2005: The stuff arrives. The Dutch movers are polite and efficient. The girls were concerned about having a bunch of guys in the house who could only speak French. I told them that the movers are from Holland and speak better English than I do, at least with more of a British accent than I have. There seems to be minimum damage to the goods, despite lousy packing from Access.
2 Nov 2005: Things are in pretty good shape. Moving has taken its toll on things, but no total losses confirmed as yet. Darin taped the lampshades back on, and it turns out that masking tape matches the shades really well! No, they did nothing to protect them. Darin's toolbox is suspiciously light. The visegrips, an impact set, and some other things are missing. The toolbox was not in another box or taped shut in any way.
The tools seem to be our biggest loss so far, though we still haven't found everything or finished unpacking.
Sea and Air Cargo International was the real disaster of the move, though I feel fortunate to have escaped with minimal damage. Basically, we paid them $1800 and they did nothing. In hindsight, it could have been worse, because as far as we can tell, nothing was stolen from the house.
Jan 2005: I sign a contract with a company in Luxembourg.
Feb 2005: I quit my government job.
Mar 2005: My contracts with Eurostat begin. I move to Europe without Darin and our three girls.
30 April 2005: We sign a contract with Sea and Air, and my company pays them $1800 as a down payment for our move, scheduled to load on 18 May from Virginia to Europe. Our sales person, Maria, tells us to relax because everything is under control and we have hire full-service packing, etc.
17 May 2005: Eleanor calls to tell us that the container is scheduled for 23 May. I explain that is incorrect because we are leaving for Europe on 21 May. I tell her we want to cancel. She says we can't cancel without 12 days notice, even though they have "postponed" our date with less than 24 hours notice. I talk to Idan Ohana who promises to personally oversee the move. He gives me his cell phone number and tells me I can call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I tell him we will leave the keys with our neighbor across the street. He says he will arrive on Sunday to pack the house, and that loading will begin when the container arrives on Monday.
22 May 2005: I try to call Idan from Europe. His phone is off. I call my real estate agent and my pastor. No one from Sea and Air is at the house.
23 May 2005: I call Idan from Europe again. He says that he was able to get the keys, but they can't pack the house because it's too messy and there is too much stuff. I tell him that it wouldn't have been a problem if we had been there because we could have told them what to leave out, if it really doesn't fit. He says he will call me again later.
24 May 2005: I call Idan again. He gives me a long story about how they couldn't get the container in the driveway and that the police told them they couldn't be there. So now there is too much stuff, and they will need a truck to carry the stuff to a container at some other location. Our driveway is much longer than 40 feet, and straight, and I can't understand why the police care that we have a container in our driveway. There is no neighborhood association, or anything like that. Idan says they will need more money.
25 May 2005 - 31 May 2005: Idan's phone is turned off.
1 June 2005: I talk to Idan again. He is back in Florida. He really still wants to be our mover, but he needs more money. They had to send the container to someone else since it didn't fit in our driveway, so he will have to schedule a new container and he needs more money because our house is really messy. He says that he looked at our furniture and realize we had nothing of value, so he's afraid to pack our house and put it in a container because we will decide that we don't want our belongings since we have nothing of value. (Maria had told us that we should pack everything of value ourselves, which we did.) I don't want to list for him everything we do have that's valuable, so I tell him we are canceling the move. I ask him why, when he left to return to Florida, he didn't leave the keys with our neighbor. He said it was because he still wanted the job.
2 June 2005: Friends of ours go to the house to capture the cat. The house is messier than when we left. There are pieces of metal and empty boxes everywhere.
2 June 2005: I call Idan and cancel the move. He says that the $1800 will NOT be refunded because he spent that money going to Virginia, and it wasn't his fault that the police wouldn't let them load the container. He says he will mail the keys overnight to our real estate agent in Virginia. I file my first complaint with the Better Business Bureau in Florida.
16 June 2005: Idan Ohana replies to the BBB that he will refund our money minus expenses and that the keys are already in the mail back to us.
13 July 2005: We send our deposit to Access International. They agree to be at the house on 27 and 28 July to pack the house.
27 July 2005: The men from Access arrive on time with a 1300 sq ft Budget Rent-a-Truck. Things seem to be doing smoothly. They pack the house and take the boxes and furniture to storage somewhere. Because of problems with Sea and Air Cargo, we tell Access that a container won't fit in our driveway. Later we discover that Sea and Air did have a container in the driveway. If Access could have brought in a container, this could have saved a lot of trouble later on, we discover.
28 July 2005: As the men leave, we are told that the container will cost an extra $4000 because we have 600 sq ft too much. This was a bit of a shock to us, and if it had been explained as we were packing the truck, we could have told them what to leave out. We assume that we can work it out later.
I'm going to skip some details here (for now), but we eventually come to an agreement to get back to the original estimate.
We talk to our neighbor across the street about the container. He says that Idan arrived on Monday for the keys, and the container was there Monday also. It sat in the driveway for two days, but there was no activity at the house except for a truck from Florida and came and went occasionally, but it was clear no one was really at the house or working. And still no keys from Sea and Air Cargo.
13 Sept 2005: I mail checks for all the charges to Access. In full. For the next few days, I ask for confirmation that they've received the checks. I finally get a message.
22 Sept 2005: I see that the checks have cleared by checking my bank balance. I write to ask for my receipts and for a date for the move. Nothing. I send email every day for a week. They don't answer my email or my phone messages. And it's difficult to get through on their voice mail system because we don't have a touch-tone phone at home, so I must call from the phone at work.
27 Sept 2005: I file a follow-up with the BBB in Florida for Sea and Air Cargo because we have still no refund and still no house keys.
28 Sept 2005: I finally am able to get through to Dan at Access, and I'm promised receipts. I think the past week bodes very badly for the rest of the move, but at this point, I'm afraid to change moving companies again. I explain that besides the receipts, we also need a date for the packing of the container so that we can have a friend there who will pull out the stuff we don't want packed so that everything will fit into the container.
29 Sept 2005: The receipts did arrive by email.
I had also requested the location of the storage unit so that we can send some friends over with a truck to pick up the things we want left behind. We've been told that we have 600 sq ft over the limit, but I think it's less than that, and there are some things that we don't need in Luxembourg, so we are confident we can make it fit into a 40 foot container. All my requests for the location of our belongings have been ignored. Completely. I have thought all along that the $4000 was a scam, and it's looking more and more like that.
4 Oct 2005: At around 6 pm, the phone rings. It was a guy with a fairly heavy Spanish accent. He said he was with our movers and needed Darin's social security number. When anyone asks for a social security number, it is probably a scam. So Darin had him tell the name of the moving company. He got it right, but Darin wanted more confirmation, so Darin talked to me and then called them back at the Access number. It was really Dan at Access and not a scam. Dan said that he personally oversaw the packing of our container and they squished everything in. After all that bickering over them raising the price for an oversized load and the company not wanting to pay and not trusting American movers and the extra European (expensive) bids, they got it all in. We had worked out a list of things to leave out if things did not fit, but we never sent it because they never communicate with us. We did not know when they were packing the container. We wanted to have someone there to help decide what to leave out and to haul stuff away. I don't think they wanted anyone overseeing them.
Now the question is: Did they really get everything in or did they leave some stuff out? We would rather have chosen what to leave out than have a few, possibly important, boxes missing. We had a list of unimportant things they could have left out -- big things that could really have created more room. We have to wait for about six weeks plus however long it takes me to unpack everything to see if anything is missing.
20 Oct 2005: Our goods have arrived in port in Holland. So far I like the Dutch moving company. We have gone from absolutely no information to email and phone calls three or four times a day. Luxembourg customs wants a packing list in French, and Access (the company that packed for us and was supposed to have the list) lost our list.
24 Oct 2005: We've been getting the paperwork together for customs. Our state-side movers must have lost the original packing list, because three-fourths of the items on the list we got to translate was "box". The town officials have been very professional. I went down for residency papers to prove that we actually lived here, and she printed, signed, stamped, tax stamped, and let me purchase them immediately. We also had to send copies of our rental agreement and my work contract. I don't know how many times we've had to give Luxembourg a copy of that contract. Maybe someday they will believe that I really work here.
26 Oct 2005: The stuff arrives. The Dutch movers are polite and efficient. The girls were concerned about having a bunch of guys in the house who could only speak French. I told them that the movers are from Holland and speak better English than I do, at least with more of a British accent than I have. There seems to be minimum damage to the goods, despite lousy packing from Access.
2 Nov 2005: Things are in pretty good shape. Moving has taken its toll on things, but no total losses confirmed as yet. Darin taped the lampshades back on, and it turns out that masking tape matches the shades really well! No, they did nothing to protect them. Darin's toolbox is suspiciously light. The visegrips, an impact set, and some other things are missing. The toolbox was not in another box or taped shut in any way.
The tools seem to be our biggest loss so far, though we still haven't found everything or finished unpacking.
31 October, 2005
11 October, 2005
Work Permits and Hell
I've always liked the number 22, I suppose because I was born on the 22nd, so I thought it was a lucky number for me when I was little. And I always liked the phrase Catch 22.
Catch-22 is a novel by Joseph Heller, the point of which was to show how illogical modern warfare had become. The main character, Yossarian, is a bombardier who wants out of the war. Contradictions abound. Again and again, we see that want is supposed to be good is really bad, and what is sensible is really nonsence.
The fictional "catch", numbered as Catch 22 in U.S. Army Air Corps parlance in the novel, states that any bombardier who wishes to be excused from combat flight duty must submit an official medical diagnosis from his squadron's flight surgeon stating that he is unfit to fly because he is insane. However, according to Army regulations, any sane person does not want to fly combat missions because they are so dangerous, so by requesting permission not to fly on the grounds of insanity, the bombardier has just shown that he is in fact sane and therefore is fit to fly. (And on the other side, anyone who wanted to fly on combat missions implicitly showed that he was insane, but these flyers would never submitted requests to be excused from flying because they liked it.)
From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch_22_(logic)
For most people and situations, that logic is too complex, and we tend to think along the lines you need A to get B and you need B to get A, meaning that one must come first, but you can't get one without the other.
Any government has these catches. It's not only the military. You can find these kinds of catches anywhere you find bureaurocracy.
I used to work for the U.S. Government, and I thought I understood red tape. I didn't like it, but I had learned to survive along side of it. It was like living with cudzu in the South, cudzu that will slowly take over every inch of sunshine and kill everything else around it. You see it strangling everything in it's path, so you make decisions about what you are willing to sacrifice, and what you will try to protect from it's slowly-moving path.
Universities are another good example. I remember when I was taking classes toward my PhD, I heard two professors talking in the stairwell. The one said to the other that having a PhD wasn't a mark of intelligence or creativity --- it only showed perseverance and the patience to get through red tape.
Everything in Luxembourg hinges on the work permit: bank accounts, housing, residency permits and visas, and so on. So how do you get a work permit in Luxembourg?
To get a work permit, you must first show that you have a job, i.e., a contract with a company in Luxembourg. That company must prove that there is no one in Europe who can do the job that they need done and no one as qualified as you, beyond any doubt. Simple enough. You have a job, you're good at what you do, and then you can have the work permit.
The European Commission knows me and knows my work. They can attest to the fact that there is no one in Europe who can do what I do. I can't work for the European Commission because I'm an American citizen. They have a contract for some work, but I can't bid on the contract with an American company. I can work on the contract with a European company. I find a European company who is bidding on the project and ask them to hire me. Voila! I have a job in Europe.
Now here's the Catch 22: That company in Luxembourg doesn't want to give you a contract unless you will actually be working for them, but then you aren't allowed to work for them because you don't have a work permit. And you can't get a work permit without the contract from a Luxembourg company. So you could wait in the States for the work permit to come through, but then you would no longer have the contract for the job in Europe because you weren't doing any work that needed to be done.
Just to further complicate things, without a work permit, you aren't qualified to be paid. Without any means of support, it is difficult to get a bank account or find housing. Without money and housing, it is difficult to continue to work for the company that hired you, though you need the contract with the company so that you can have the work permit, and eventually the money and the housing.
Now there are some solutions to the problems, for example, it is possible to be "forwarded" some money for expenses even though you aren't really allowed to be paid. But most landlords won't rent to you without proof that you are getting paid, and there is no proof. Though it is difficult to find formal housing, it is sometimes possible to find someone who will rent to you without a formal contract, even at a hotel if worse comes to worse.
To add to my own personal complications, I can't be on a contract with the European Commission while working for the U.S. government, so I had to quit my job. If I don't quit my job, then I would have to remove my name from the EC contract, and then I would lose my job in Europe. Without my good government job in the States, we no longer had health insurance, but while working in Europe without a work permit, we had no health insurance in Europe either.
Perhaps it would be possible to quit the job with the U.S. government and find temporary work in the States until the permit comes through, though there is some chance that the contracts could be canceled in Europe while waiting. Patience could be especially lacking for the contract with the EC if they were told that the work permit was already approved even though you don't have a work permit.
So how does the time line look for getting a work permit?
October – I apply for a job. They must interview other candidates to assure the government that I am the only qualified person.
January – the paperwork is filed for the work permit. I and the company in Luxembourg are assured that everything is in order and that the permit will be approved within three months.
25 February – my last day with the federal government job.
1 March – the contract with the EC begins. When they check on the status of my work permit, they are told that it's already been approved.
15 March – I come to Europe, living in someone's apartment until mid-May while she moves temporarily to take care of her father and his house.
9 April – someone calls to see why my work permit is "unofficially" approved but we don't have "official" word yet. We are told that the paperwork is sitting on someone’s desk because these things take six months, so I need to wait, even if they agree that the company has the right to hire me.
13 April – at the suggestion of my landlady, we ask for my number so that I have proof that I have applied for a work permit. I do have a number in the system, so now I have, essentially, a temporary work permit. (For example, if the bank wants to call and check on it, I can tell them my number, and they can check, and the lady can say, yes we have her file and she will have a work permit eventually.) This allows me to open a bank account in Luxembourg.
5 May – the work permit is officially approved. This means that I can be paid officially for the work I did in March and April also, but using the withholding rate for a single person because I still have no proof, officially, that I'm married with three kids.
3 June – my official work permit arrived in the mail. However, we notice that the birthday listed on the permit is off by a year, and the birthday is part of the official number. My boss had told them in January that it was wrong, and reminded them again in April when they gave me my temporary number. All other paperwork hinges on this piece of paper, and there is some doubt as to whether we should proceed when the number is wrong.
17 June – another work permit arrives with my correct birthday. But it's not a correction of the first, so I now have two work permits with two different numbers. I was in the system twice, with two different birthdays. (So it appears that instead of correcting my birthday early on in the process, they opened another file for me.)
6 July – I received a third work permit, this one dated 1 July. I had to send in the other two so I could get this one with the correct birthday. They seemed very angry with me that I had two work permits, but it certainly wasn't my fault.
Hooray! A work permit. Now life gets easier, we think. We were wrong.
The next step is to register in Kehlen and to get residency permits. Once we're registered in Kehlen, then they can take out withholding for someone who is married with three kids. Until then, my withholding is at the single rate.
And here lies the next Catch 22: You can’t have a residency permit without proof of means of support (i.e., a work permit unless you are retired) and a tax card from your county/parish, and you can't have a tax card without a work permit, rental contract on a house, marriage certificate, birth certificates for all the kids, and the residency permit. Also, the spouse and kids must be in the country, as seen by the passport stamps, but it's very difficult to afford to have the spouse and kids in Europe living on the salary with the withholding of a single person.
The time line for getting a residency permit and/or tax card:
7 July – The administrative office at my company has sent copies of our passports, along with letters, to the Luxembourg administration. To process the entire mess, the Luxembourg administration wanted a notarized copy of every page all five passports. I couldn't afford that. So I send them regular copies, and then I will go later to the office and plead my case, trying to sound as pitiful as possible, which should be simple.
8 July – My pastor suggests that I go as soon as possible to the offices in Luxembourg since I have already been in the country longer than allowed for a tourist. So I go to the offices and tell them that my priest sent me, and he said that they could help. That seems to make them more sympathetic to my case. I see one woman. She tells me that I am illegal and must go immediately to the Office for Foreigners. I walk over there. The guard at the door tells me they are open only in the mornings from 8:30 to 11:30. So much for immediately. I go back to the first office to wait in another line. It’s hot, with no AC, and the ticket machines are broken. Usually you could just take a ticket and wait in the waiting room, but not today. So we stand in line instead of sitting in the waiting room. When I finally talk to the person, she says that there is nothing they can do to help me.
12 July – I go back to the Office for Foreigners, taking my usual bus, and I arrive at the office at 8:50. They tell me I am too late. They can give me a ticket, but the ticket number will probably be for a time past 11:30. He said that some people will take a ticket and never be seen because they **will** close at 11:30 no matter what. This man could have explained this to me when I was there on the 8th. It was the same man. Today he says that if you want a ticket that will assure that you are seen that day, you have to come before 8:30.
14 July – I go back to the Ministry for Foreigners early. It was Hell on Earth. The purpose of the trip was to show them the five passports since I didn't have them notarized. And to ask if there was anything they could do for me so that I could get the tax card in Kehlen. She did look through the passports and mark that the copies were accurate on the copies. I also gave her copies of my marriage certificate, but we're still missing the birth certificates for the kids. There was nothing else she could do to help.
20 July – We all five received letters that we have been approved for our permis de séjour, mine of "type salarié" and the other four of "type membre de famille". I can't believe it's actually happened. The next step is to get medical certificates from a doctor in Luxembourg, and two passport-type photos, and then to go back to the "ministère des Affaires étrangères et de l'Immigration" (my favorite place). There is no way we can all get to a doctor in Lux before we leave, especially since many people have already started their holidays. We also don't have the money to pay for the medical certificates because it costs 30 euro each.
2 September – We have enough money for the medical certificates, and Darin and the kids go to the doctor in Kehlen.
5 September – I go to the doctor for my medical certificate, and then we apply for our permits in Kehlen. They seem shocked I have been in the country since March 15, but tell us it will be another 3 to 6 months before we have the permits in hand.
10 October – We receive letters that we have numbers in the system. But nothing about how much longer we have to wait, or when my next trip to the Ministry for Foreigners, a.k.a Hell on Earth, will be.
And why would I call it Hell on Earth, you say? Rev. Lyons spoke once in a sermon about how we could sometimes get a glimpse of heaven here on earth. I know for a fact that the same is true of hell. And Hell on Earth is the Ministry for Foreigners in downtown Luxembourg.
The Gates/Door of Hell
They are open from 8:30 to 11:30 if you want to apply for a long-term visa, but you must come early to get a ticket to be seen before 11:30. So the last time I went, the time I actually was allowed inside, was 14 July. I thought it was appropriate that it was Bastille Day, as we say in America.
I woke up early in the morning so I could get to the Ministry for Foreigners early. I got there at 7:48, and I found that I didn't have to wait in line for a ticket, so that was good. I was #141, and the guard told me to come back at 8:30. So I went and bought a Coke Light with Lemon. So far so good. Doesn't sound so bad, you say?
At 8:30, even a little bit before, you are allowed to go to the third floor. When you walk into the building from the street, it is noticeably hotter than the already 84 degrees F outside. When you walk up the three flights of stairs, you can feel it getting hotter again all the way up the stair well. Then you go through a door to the waiting room, and you feel the wave of heat as you open the door.
Inside the waiting room there are about 20 chairs around the edge of the room, and about 80 people. We all have tickets, but the machine that shows the numbers is broken, so every one is crowding around the doors and pushing, but it doesn't matter, because we still have to go by the numbers.
At first, you have no idea what door your number is for, or what number they are taking for any given door. I eventually learn that my ticket is for Door #1, and the first number for my door for that day is #130. When I figure out I have a little bit of time, I leave the room and go back outside. It's now almost 90 degrees F outside, but still much cooler than inside the waiting room. I was wearing a tank top and a shirt over, so I take off the shirt. I manage to compose myself enough to go back inside.
A woman who is sitting beside Door #1 has taken it upon herself to monitor the tickets and to let us know where they are in the count. At one point, someone argues with her that I shouldn't be next because I left the waiting room. She tells him it doesn't matter if I'm in the line or not because I'm still #141.
At 9:45 I get to have my turn. When you go through Door #1, there is a woman there behind the bulletproof glass, talking to you through a microphone. It's a little bit cooler because you can feel some cool air coming through the slot at the bottom of the glass where you pass through papers. She makes some copies of my papers, looks through our five passports, and she tells me she can't do anything for me (except take my papers), but she does give me a phone number to call.
By the time I leave, it's difficult to even get to the door of the waiting room so that I can leave. There are at least 100 people in a room 6 meters by 10 meters, most of them standing, and many of them pushing to get in a line that has no meaning. And it's probably more than 95 degrees in that room, and only getting warmer. The smell of bodies and perfume in the room is overwhelming and makes you feel ill.
That's now my picture of Hell --- squished into a tiny room, standing and pushing for a line that has no meaning, and the smell of body odor and many different kinds of really strong perfumes being sweated away in the heat.
I'm a person who believes in signs. It was just so cool how I really wanted to move to Europe, and I was really unhappy with my job, and I found a job in Europe that was perfect for me, and he wanted to hire me, and the salary worked out. But then you hit one of these administrative Catch-22's, and you feel like you will never get anything accomplished. I was starting to have doubts that all those signs I saw before were really signs. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be in Europe. I started thinking about giving up and going home. I started to feel that if Luxembourg really didn't want us here, then I didn't need Luxembourg. Except of course, that I have a job here, and I don't have a job in the U.S.
I like the movie Signs, maybe partly because I like Mel Gibson. In the movie, Mel plays a pastor who has lost his faith in God and has quit his job. When things start to get strange, his younger brother (played by Joquin Phoenix) asks him why he can't just be a little bit more positive about everything. Mel's character responds that there are two kinds of people in the world --- the first kind sees something happen and knows that it's a sign from God and that somehow everything will work out as part of some plan, and the second kind of person sees something happen and knows it's all coincidence. He tells his brother that everyone has to make a decision as to what kind of person they are.
When I first saw this movie, we were on an airplane from Frankfurt to the US back in November 2002. We had just bought a cukoo clock in Triberg, Germany, and I choose the clock based on a "sign" from God. The store had clocks that played four different songs, but only two per clock: "Edelweiss", "The Happy Wanderer", "The Mill in the Black Forest", and some other song I don't remember. The songs were paired so that "Edelweiss" and "Happy Wanderer" were always together, for the tourists. The other two songs were traditional Black Forest songs, and they were for the Germans. But I liked the "Happy Wanderer", it always makes me smile, and I didn't want "Edelweiss" in my German clock because it's an American song, written by Rogers and Hammerstein, whom I love, but it's not German (or even Austrian). Then we found a clock of carved wood with five birds (for the five of us), very traditional looking, and it played "Happy Wanderer" and "The Mill in the Black Forest." I told Darin it was a sign from God that this was our clock. So here we are, just a few hours later, watching this movie on the plane, and Darin says, "I know what kind of person you are," and he rolls his eyes.
I am that kind of person. The problem with being that kind of person is that sometimes things go really badly and it's hard to see the plan.
When we were back in the States in August, a former boss of mine, someone who knows me fairly well, and someone who knows about moving to other countries, told me he's never seen anyone have so much trouble with the red tape that we've had. He said he never expected someone with my skills to have so much trouble getting a work permit. Then he looked right at me and said, "But don't think, just because things aren't easy, that it's some kind of sign from God that you've made a mistake in moving to Europe." It was just so funny that he said that to me. I don't remember telling him about how much I look for signs, but he seemed to be able to read my mind.
But I was thinking about it more, and I realized that government bureaucracies are really the instruments of Satan. And I can say this in all earnestness, because I used to work for the U.S. Census Bureau, so I am well aware of the workings of the devil. So if the bureaucracies are working so hard to keep us down, then that's really is a sign that I need to stick it out and stay here. OK, so now you think I'm crazy, but think about it a little bit more, and you'll see that I'm right. "Onward, Christian soldiers, marching on to war . . . "
I need to keep that song in my head the next time I have to go to the Ministry for Foreigners.
Catch-22 is a novel by Joseph Heller, the point of which was to show how illogical modern warfare had become. The main character, Yossarian, is a bombardier who wants out of the war. Contradictions abound. Again and again, we see that want is supposed to be good is really bad, and what is sensible is really nonsence.
The fictional "catch", numbered as Catch 22 in U.S. Army Air Corps parlance in the novel, states that any bombardier who wishes to be excused from combat flight duty must submit an official medical diagnosis from his squadron's flight surgeon stating that he is unfit to fly because he is insane. However, according to Army regulations, any sane person does not want to fly combat missions because they are so dangerous, so by requesting permission not to fly on the grounds of insanity, the bombardier has just shown that he is in fact sane and therefore is fit to fly. (And on the other side, anyone who wanted to fly on combat missions implicitly showed that he was insane, but these flyers would never submitted requests to be excused from flying because they liked it.)
From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch_22_(logic)
This is symbolized as C (being excused from flying) necessitates A (a request) and ~B (not being insane, without which there would be no request) and A also necessitates B (being insane, which must be the basis for the request).
Symbolically, ((A => ~B) & (A => B)) => C or, more simply, (A => ~B & B) => C. In other words, if you do ask to be excused, this is a sign of sanity, and yet you can't be excused if sane. If you do not ask to be excused, you must be insane, but cannot be excused unless you ask.
For most people and situations, that logic is too complex, and we tend to think along the lines you need A to get B and you need B to get A, meaning that one must come first, but you can't get one without the other.
Any government has these catches. It's not only the military. You can find these kinds of catches anywhere you find bureaurocracy.
I used to work for the U.S. Government, and I thought I understood red tape. I didn't like it, but I had learned to survive along side of it. It was like living with cudzu in the South, cudzu that will slowly take over every inch of sunshine and kill everything else around it. You see it strangling everything in it's path, so you make decisions about what you are willing to sacrifice, and what you will try to protect from it's slowly-moving path.
Universities are another good example. I remember when I was taking classes toward my PhD, I heard two professors talking in the stairwell. The one said to the other that having a PhD wasn't a mark of intelligence or creativity --- it only showed perseverance and the patience to get through red tape.
Everything in Luxembourg hinges on the work permit: bank accounts, housing, residency permits and visas, and so on. So how do you get a work permit in Luxembourg?
To get a work permit, you must first show that you have a job, i.e., a contract with a company in Luxembourg. That company must prove that there is no one in Europe who can do the job that they need done and no one as qualified as you, beyond any doubt. Simple enough. You have a job, you're good at what you do, and then you can have the work permit.
The European Commission knows me and knows my work. They can attest to the fact that there is no one in Europe who can do what I do. I can't work for the European Commission because I'm an American citizen. They have a contract for some work, but I can't bid on the contract with an American company. I can work on the contract with a European company. I find a European company who is bidding on the project and ask them to hire me. Voila! I have a job in Europe.
Now here's the Catch 22: That company in Luxembourg doesn't want to give you a contract unless you will actually be working for them, but then you aren't allowed to work for them because you don't have a work permit. And you can't get a work permit without the contract from a Luxembourg company. So you could wait in the States for the work permit to come through, but then you would no longer have the contract for the job in Europe because you weren't doing any work that needed to be done.
Just to further complicate things, without a work permit, you aren't qualified to be paid. Without any means of support, it is difficult to get a bank account or find housing. Without money and housing, it is difficult to continue to work for the company that hired you, though you need the contract with the company so that you can have the work permit, and eventually the money and the housing.
Now there are some solutions to the problems, for example, it is possible to be "forwarded" some money for expenses even though you aren't really allowed to be paid. But most landlords won't rent to you without proof that you are getting paid, and there is no proof. Though it is difficult to find formal housing, it is sometimes possible to find someone who will rent to you without a formal contract, even at a hotel if worse comes to worse.
To add to my own personal complications, I can't be on a contract with the European Commission while working for the U.S. government, so I had to quit my job. If I don't quit my job, then I would have to remove my name from the EC contract, and then I would lose my job in Europe. Without my good government job in the States, we no longer had health insurance, but while working in Europe without a work permit, we had no health insurance in Europe either.
Perhaps it would be possible to quit the job with the U.S. government and find temporary work in the States until the permit comes through, though there is some chance that the contracts could be canceled in Europe while waiting. Patience could be especially lacking for the contract with the EC if they were told that the work permit was already approved even though you don't have a work permit.
So how does the time line look for getting a work permit?
October – I apply for a job. They must interview other candidates to assure the government that I am the only qualified person.
January – the paperwork is filed for the work permit. I and the company in Luxembourg are assured that everything is in order and that the permit will be approved within three months.
25 February – my last day with the federal government job.
1 March – the contract with the EC begins. When they check on the status of my work permit, they are told that it's already been approved.
15 March – I come to Europe, living in someone's apartment until mid-May while she moves temporarily to take care of her father and his house.
9 April – someone calls to see why my work permit is "unofficially" approved but we don't have "official" word yet. We are told that the paperwork is sitting on someone’s desk because these things take six months, so I need to wait, even if they agree that the company has the right to hire me.
13 April – at the suggestion of my landlady, we ask for my number so that I have proof that I have applied for a work permit. I do have a number in the system, so now I have, essentially, a temporary work permit. (For example, if the bank wants to call and check on it, I can tell them my number, and they can check, and the lady can say, yes we have her file and she will have a work permit eventually.) This allows me to open a bank account in Luxembourg.
5 May – the work permit is officially approved. This means that I can be paid officially for the work I did in March and April also, but using the withholding rate for a single person because I still have no proof, officially, that I'm married with three kids.
3 June – my official work permit arrived in the mail. However, we notice that the birthday listed on the permit is off by a year, and the birthday is part of the official number. My boss had told them in January that it was wrong, and reminded them again in April when they gave me my temporary number. All other paperwork hinges on this piece of paper, and there is some doubt as to whether we should proceed when the number is wrong.
17 June – another work permit arrives with my correct birthday. But it's not a correction of the first, so I now have two work permits with two different numbers. I was in the system twice, with two different birthdays. (So it appears that instead of correcting my birthday early on in the process, they opened another file for me.)
6 July – I received a third work permit, this one dated 1 July. I had to send in the other two so I could get this one with the correct birthday. They seemed very angry with me that I had two work permits, but it certainly wasn't my fault.
Hooray! A work permit. Now life gets easier, we think. We were wrong.
The next step is to register in Kehlen and to get residency permits. Once we're registered in Kehlen, then they can take out withholding for someone who is married with three kids. Until then, my withholding is at the single rate.
And here lies the next Catch 22: You can’t have a residency permit without proof of means of support (i.e., a work permit unless you are retired) and a tax card from your county/parish, and you can't have a tax card without a work permit, rental contract on a house, marriage certificate, birth certificates for all the kids, and the residency permit. Also, the spouse and kids must be in the country, as seen by the passport stamps, but it's very difficult to afford to have the spouse and kids in Europe living on the salary with the withholding of a single person.
The time line for getting a residency permit and/or tax card:
7 July – The administrative office at my company has sent copies of our passports, along with letters, to the Luxembourg administration. To process the entire mess, the Luxembourg administration wanted a notarized copy of every page all five passports. I couldn't afford that. So I send them regular copies, and then I will go later to the office and plead my case, trying to sound as pitiful as possible, which should be simple.
8 July – My pastor suggests that I go as soon as possible to the offices in Luxembourg since I have already been in the country longer than allowed for a tourist. So I go to the offices and tell them that my priest sent me, and he said that they could help. That seems to make them more sympathetic to my case. I see one woman. She tells me that I am illegal and must go immediately to the Office for Foreigners. I walk over there. The guard at the door tells me they are open only in the mornings from 8:30 to 11:30. So much for immediately. I go back to the first office to wait in another line. It’s hot, with no AC, and the ticket machines are broken. Usually you could just take a ticket and wait in the waiting room, but not today. So we stand in line instead of sitting in the waiting room. When I finally talk to the person, she says that there is nothing they can do to help me.
12 July – I go back to the Office for Foreigners, taking my usual bus, and I arrive at the office at 8:50. They tell me I am too late. They can give me a ticket, but the ticket number will probably be for a time past 11:30. He said that some people will take a ticket and never be seen because they **will** close at 11:30 no matter what. This man could have explained this to me when I was there on the 8th. It was the same man. Today he says that if you want a ticket that will assure that you are seen that day, you have to come before 8:30.
14 July – I go back to the Ministry for Foreigners early. It was Hell on Earth. The purpose of the trip was to show them the five passports since I didn't have them notarized. And to ask if there was anything they could do for me so that I could get the tax card in Kehlen. She did look through the passports and mark that the copies were accurate on the copies. I also gave her copies of my marriage certificate, but we're still missing the birth certificates for the kids. There was nothing else she could do to help.
20 July – We all five received letters that we have been approved for our permis de séjour, mine of "type salarié" and the other four of "type membre de famille". I can't believe it's actually happened. The next step is to get medical certificates from a doctor in Luxembourg, and two passport-type photos, and then to go back to the "ministère des Affaires étrangères et de l'Immigration" (my favorite place). There is no way we can all get to a doctor in Lux before we leave, especially since many people have already started their holidays. We also don't have the money to pay for the medical certificates because it costs 30 euro each.
2 September – We have enough money for the medical certificates, and Darin and the kids go to the doctor in Kehlen.
5 September – I go to the doctor for my medical certificate, and then we apply for our permits in Kehlen. They seem shocked I have been in the country since March 15, but tell us it will be another 3 to 6 months before we have the permits in hand.
10 October – We receive letters that we have numbers in the system. But nothing about how much longer we have to wait, or when my next trip to the Ministry for Foreigners, a.k.a Hell on Earth, will be.
And why would I call it Hell on Earth, you say? Rev. Lyons spoke once in a sermon about how we could sometimes get a glimpse of heaven here on earth. I know for a fact that the same is true of hell. And Hell on Earth is the Ministry for Foreigners in downtown Luxembourg.
The Gates/Door of Hell
They are open from 8:30 to 11:30 if you want to apply for a long-term visa, but you must come early to get a ticket to be seen before 11:30. So the last time I went, the time I actually was allowed inside, was 14 July. I thought it was appropriate that it was Bastille Day, as we say in America.
I woke up early in the morning so I could get to the Ministry for Foreigners early. I got there at 7:48, and I found that I didn't have to wait in line for a ticket, so that was good. I was #141, and the guard told me to come back at 8:30. So I went and bought a Coke Light with Lemon. So far so good. Doesn't sound so bad, you say?
At 8:30, even a little bit before, you are allowed to go to the third floor. When you walk into the building from the street, it is noticeably hotter than the already 84 degrees F outside. When you walk up the three flights of stairs, you can feel it getting hotter again all the way up the stair well. Then you go through a door to the waiting room, and you feel the wave of heat as you open the door.
Inside the waiting room there are about 20 chairs around the edge of the room, and about 80 people. We all have tickets, but the machine that shows the numbers is broken, so every one is crowding around the doors and pushing, but it doesn't matter, because we still have to go by the numbers.
At first, you have no idea what door your number is for, or what number they are taking for any given door. I eventually learn that my ticket is for Door #1, and the first number for my door for that day is #130. When I figure out I have a little bit of time, I leave the room and go back outside. It's now almost 90 degrees F outside, but still much cooler than inside the waiting room. I was wearing a tank top and a shirt over, so I take off the shirt. I manage to compose myself enough to go back inside.
A woman who is sitting beside Door #1 has taken it upon herself to monitor the tickets and to let us know where they are in the count. At one point, someone argues with her that I shouldn't be next because I left the waiting room. She tells him it doesn't matter if I'm in the line or not because I'm still #141.
At 9:45 I get to have my turn. When you go through Door #1, there is a woman there behind the bulletproof glass, talking to you through a microphone. It's a little bit cooler because you can feel some cool air coming through the slot at the bottom of the glass where you pass through papers. She makes some copies of my papers, looks through our five passports, and she tells me she can't do anything for me (except take my papers), but she does give me a phone number to call.
By the time I leave, it's difficult to even get to the door of the waiting room so that I can leave. There are at least 100 people in a room 6 meters by 10 meters, most of them standing, and many of them pushing to get in a line that has no meaning. And it's probably more than 95 degrees in that room, and only getting warmer. The smell of bodies and perfume in the room is overwhelming and makes you feel ill.
That's now my picture of Hell --- squished into a tiny room, standing and pushing for a line that has no meaning, and the smell of body odor and many different kinds of really strong perfumes being sweated away in the heat.
I'm a person who believes in signs. It was just so cool how I really wanted to move to Europe, and I was really unhappy with my job, and I found a job in Europe that was perfect for me, and he wanted to hire me, and the salary worked out. But then you hit one of these administrative Catch-22's, and you feel like you will never get anything accomplished. I was starting to have doubts that all those signs I saw before were really signs. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be in Europe. I started thinking about giving up and going home. I started to feel that if Luxembourg really didn't want us here, then I didn't need Luxembourg. Except of course, that I have a job here, and I don't have a job in the U.S.
I like the movie Signs, maybe partly because I like Mel Gibson. In the movie, Mel plays a pastor who has lost his faith in God and has quit his job. When things start to get strange, his younger brother (played by Joquin Phoenix) asks him why he can't just be a little bit more positive about everything. Mel's character responds that there are two kinds of people in the world --- the first kind sees something happen and knows that it's a sign from God and that somehow everything will work out as part of some plan, and the second kind of person sees something happen and knows it's all coincidence. He tells his brother that everyone has to make a decision as to what kind of person they are.
When I first saw this movie, we were on an airplane from Frankfurt to the US back in November 2002. We had just bought a cukoo clock in Triberg, Germany, and I choose the clock based on a "sign" from God. The store had clocks that played four different songs, but only two per clock: "Edelweiss", "The Happy Wanderer", "The Mill in the Black Forest", and some other song I don't remember. The songs were paired so that "Edelweiss" and "Happy Wanderer" were always together, for the tourists. The other two songs were traditional Black Forest songs, and they were for the Germans. But I liked the "Happy Wanderer", it always makes me smile, and I didn't want "Edelweiss" in my German clock because it's an American song, written by Rogers and Hammerstein, whom I love, but it's not German (or even Austrian). Then we found a clock of carved wood with five birds (for the five of us), very traditional looking, and it played "Happy Wanderer" and "The Mill in the Black Forest." I told Darin it was a sign from God that this was our clock. So here we are, just a few hours later, watching this movie on the plane, and Darin says, "I know what kind of person you are," and he rolls his eyes.
I am that kind of person. The problem with being that kind of person is that sometimes things go really badly and it's hard to see the plan.
When we were back in the States in August, a former boss of mine, someone who knows me fairly well, and someone who knows about moving to other countries, told me he's never seen anyone have so much trouble with the red tape that we've had. He said he never expected someone with my skills to have so much trouble getting a work permit. Then he looked right at me and said, "But don't think, just because things aren't easy, that it's some kind of sign from God that you've made a mistake in moving to Europe." It was just so funny that he said that to me. I don't remember telling him about how much I look for signs, but he seemed to be able to read my mind.
But I was thinking about it more, and I realized that government bureaucracies are really the instruments of Satan. And I can say this in all earnestness, because I used to work for the U.S. Census Bureau, so I am well aware of the workings of the devil. So if the bureaucracies are working so hard to keep us down, then that's really is a sign that I need to stick it out and stay here. OK, so now you think I'm crazy, but think about it a little bit more, and you'll see that I'm right. "Onward, Christian soldiers, marching on to war . . . "
I need to keep that song in my head the next time I have to go to the Ministry for Foreigners.
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