My brother and sister bought me an MP3 player for Christmas, and I'm working on downloading my 100 free songs that came with it. I think I'm going to try to find some of the songs that I would hear on the bus in Luxembourg. I would never buy the CD for some of these people. But I'm thinking that I would like to have a copy of my theme song from Luxembourg --- "So You Had a Bad Day" by Daniel Powter.
I always assumed that I could be the last person in America to own an MP3 player or a cell phone. (And no, dearest brother and sister, this isn't a plea for you to buy me a cell phone.) It's amazing to me how many web sites and businesses and friends want my cell phone number. They look at you like you've just spit on them when you say you don't have a cell phone.
In Luxembourg, no one understands the phrase "cell phone." To most of the people in Luxembourg, they are "mobiles" or "mobile phones." Except the British. They will understand when you say "mobile," but the term they prefer is "handie." It took me a while to catch onto this phrase. I wasn't sure how to respond the first time I heard, "Well don't you have your handie on you?" I gradually got used to this term, and when we got back to the States, I had to be careful to not to say something like, "Did you remember to turn off the handie?"
I overheard some of the British ladies talking about my lack of a handie after church one day when we were still in Luxembourg. The one lady was feeling very sorry for me that I didn't have one. Her companion said, "Apparently, they don't really believe in handies in America." So somewhere in Luxembourg there is a group of British ladies who think that the only Americans who use mobile phones are in the movies --- that "real" Americans don't have mobile phones.
It's always amazing to me what a little bit of cultural exchange can do to clear up misconceptions of foreign cultures. :-)
ttfn
14 January, 2007
04 January, 2007
Nationality in The English Patient
The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje is set at the end of World War II in an Italian villa that temporarily houses four very different people: the mysterious English patient of the title, burned beyond recognition; Hana, an exhausted army nurse from Canada; David Caravaggio, an Italian friend of Hana's father; and Kip, an Indian sapper with the British military sent to the area to clear the mines and unexploded bombs left behind by the Germans.
It's a story about books and literature and how they affect out lives. As much as I've been reading since I've been home full-time, I really appreciate that idea.
It's also a story about nationality. The title character in the book wants to create an identity that is completely separate from nationality. He works in the desert with a team of people from different countries, and nationality doesn't get in the way of friendship for these men. To him, his family and his nationality become completely irrelevant. In the desert, and again at the Italian villa, he finds an oasis where he can connect to others without his family's identity and his nationality getting in the way. This is also true for Kip who has found it possible to get along in English society when he finds the right people, people who judge him for want he can do instead of the color of his skin. However, the war shatters the ideas that you can be separate from your nationality. As much as everyone is trying to get away from who they really are, they realize that they can't do that forever.
It's also a story about nationality, and trying to escape from bad circumstances (essentially, in this case, what happened in the war). As someone who moved overseas and understands bad circumstances (though not as bad as their circumstances during the war), I understand the power of nationality in a foreign country. You really **can't** get away from who you are and how you were raised, and it becomes very clear when you are living in a foreign country.
I won't recommend this book to the kids until they are older. I don't think my kids have read enough literature yet to understand everything. Ondaatje draws from several works of literature such as Anna Karenina and Kim, and knowing the plots of these other books really helps to understand what is happening in The English Patient. It's also good to read The Histories by Herodotus first, and two of my kids have read him already. But when the kids are older, I think that they'll understand this book and what it says about nationality.
I do recommend this book, especially for people who love literature. And I especially recommend it if you've seen the movie. Call me a nerd, but the book is much better than the movie.
ttfn
It's a story about books and literature and how they affect out lives. As much as I've been reading since I've been home full-time, I really appreciate that idea.
It's also a story about nationality. The title character in the book wants to create an identity that is completely separate from nationality. He works in the desert with a team of people from different countries, and nationality doesn't get in the way of friendship for these men. To him, his family and his nationality become completely irrelevant. In the desert, and again at the Italian villa, he finds an oasis where he can connect to others without his family's identity and his nationality getting in the way. This is also true for Kip who has found it possible to get along in English society when he finds the right people, people who judge him for want he can do instead of the color of his skin. However, the war shatters the ideas that you can be separate from your nationality. As much as everyone is trying to get away from who they really are, they realize that they can't do that forever.
It's also a story about nationality, and trying to escape from bad circumstances (essentially, in this case, what happened in the war). As someone who moved overseas and understands bad circumstances (though not as bad as their circumstances during the war), I understand the power of nationality in a foreign country. You really **can't** get away from who you are and how you were raised, and it becomes very clear when you are living in a foreign country.
I won't recommend this book to the kids until they are older. I don't think my kids have read enough literature yet to understand everything. Ondaatje draws from several works of literature such as Anna Karenina and Kim, and knowing the plots of these other books really helps to understand what is happening in The English Patient. It's also good to read The Histories by Herodotus first, and two of my kids have read him already. But when the kids are older, I think that they'll understand this book and what it says about nationality.
I do recommend this book, especially for people who love literature. And I especially recommend it if you've seen the movie. Call me a nerd, but the book is much better than the movie.
ttfn
20 December, 2006
14 December, 2006
Church Friends in Luxembourg
I can't believe it's been so long since I've blogged here. I think about this blog all the time.
My kids are calmer now than when we first moved to the States. I can speak French to them and they don't give me one of those really harsh stares they are so good at, especially my middle daughter. But as Luxembourg fades further and further from their lives and memory, I find myself more and more missing parts of my life there.
I have really missed Luxembourg during this Advent season. As I mentioned before, I loved the lights all around town, and the Christmas market at Place D'Armes.
But even more than the lights, I miss my church there.
At the Anglican church, we sang the most wonderful Christmas songs. And I realize that they had some problems with their pipe organ, but even on one of it's bad days, it was still a pipe organ, and with the right organist on duty, it was really a wonderful feeling to be singing along on some magnificent old hymns of the church accompanied by a real pipe organ.
I loved Chris's sermons, both his children's sermons and the grown-up sermons. I was never, ever bored during church, and I very often left with something to really think about.
One movie I wanted to see last year was Joyeux Noel, but my husband wasn't crazy about the idea, so we never went. I'm not sure they would have had it with English subtitles, and my husband would have needed the subtitles. I might have needed some help with the French, and as it turns out, the Scottish, so subtitles would have been best. I rented the movie this year, and I really enjoyed it. (OK, the lip-synching was really bad, but the rest of the movie was excellent and made up any minor problems.)
The more I thought about the themes of the movie, the more I found myself wanting to talk about it with Chris and Joan and with the people I knew in the choir. One of the main heroes of the movie is a priest from Scotland who comes up against the Anglican church. I think Chris and Joan, as Anglicans from Scotland, would have had a unique perspective on the whole thing. Also, one of the main themes of the movie was the power of music over war. One of the German soldiers is a famous opera singer from Berlin, and he begins to sing "Stille Nacht" to the German troops, and the tune is recognized by the soldiers on the other side of the line. Then the Scots begin to play "Adeste Fideles", on their bagpipes of course, and the German begins to sing it in Latin. A version of "Ave Maria" moves many of the soldiers to tears, even if they aren't Catholic or even Christians. It was really moving. The original music written for the movie was nice, with an excellent score. I would love having a chance to talk over this movie with several of my friends from choir.
I've tried to email several friends from church, but my email gets bounced back because their email servers think it's spam. I wish I could just send them a note to tell them we're OK. I need to find a way to get their real addresses and send them a letter, and tell them how much I miss them and how often I think about them.
My kids are calmer now than when we first moved to the States. I can speak French to them and they don't give me one of those really harsh stares they are so good at, especially my middle daughter. But as Luxembourg fades further and further from their lives and memory, I find myself more and more missing parts of my life there.
I have really missed Luxembourg during this Advent season. As I mentioned before, I loved the lights all around town, and the Christmas market at Place D'Armes.
But even more than the lights, I miss my church there.
At the Anglican church, we sang the most wonderful Christmas songs. And I realize that they had some problems with their pipe organ, but even on one of it's bad days, it was still a pipe organ, and with the right organist on duty, it was really a wonderful feeling to be singing along on some magnificent old hymns of the church accompanied by a real pipe organ.
I loved Chris's sermons, both his children's sermons and the grown-up sermons. I was never, ever bored during church, and I very often left with something to really think about.
One movie I wanted to see last year was Joyeux Noel, but my husband wasn't crazy about the idea, so we never went. I'm not sure they would have had it with English subtitles, and my husband would have needed the subtitles. I might have needed some help with the French, and as it turns out, the Scottish, so subtitles would have been best. I rented the movie this year, and I really enjoyed it. (OK, the lip-synching was really bad, but the rest of the movie was excellent and made up any minor problems.)
The more I thought about the themes of the movie, the more I found myself wanting to talk about it with Chris and Joan and with the people I knew in the choir. One of the main heroes of the movie is a priest from Scotland who comes up against the Anglican church. I think Chris and Joan, as Anglicans from Scotland, would have had a unique perspective on the whole thing. Also, one of the main themes of the movie was the power of music over war. One of the German soldiers is a famous opera singer from Berlin, and he begins to sing "Stille Nacht" to the German troops, and the tune is recognized by the soldiers on the other side of the line. Then the Scots begin to play "Adeste Fideles", on their bagpipes of course, and the German begins to sing it in Latin. A version of "Ave Maria" moves many of the soldiers to tears, even if they aren't Catholic or even Christians. It was really moving. The original music written for the movie was nice, with an excellent score. I would love having a chance to talk over this movie with several of my friends from choir.
I've tried to email several friends from church, but my email gets bounced back because their email servers think it's spam. I wish I could just send them a note to tell them we're OK. I need to find a way to get their real addresses and send them a letter, and tell them how much I miss them and how often I think about them.
21 November, 2006
Commuting to work and Christmas lights
When I worked in an office every day, I dreamed of being able to work at home and never having to dress up, or even working all day in my pajamas if I wanted to. Now that I can do just that, I find that sometimes I dress up just to remind myself of the old days.
There are very few times that I've been missing the two hour commute into Luxembourg city from Kehlen every day. I could sometimes get some reading done, but not on some of the windy roads, and not in the winter time when it was too dark to read.
But I realize now that with Christmas coming, I will miss the Christmas lights on the big bank by the bridge, and at the Christmas market at Place D'Arms, and on the tree at Place de Paris. Having only 8 hours of sunlight in a day would really be depressing if it didn't mean that the Christmas lights could come on at 16:00.
I wonder if we have enough Christmas lights stored away to turn one of our cedars into something like the tree at Place de Paris?
There are very few times that I've been missing the two hour commute into Luxembourg city from Kehlen every day. I could sometimes get some reading done, but not on some of the windy roads, and not in the winter time when it was too dark to read.
But I realize now that with Christmas coming, I will miss the Christmas lights on the big bank by the bridge, and at the Christmas market at Place D'Arms, and on the tree at Place de Paris. Having only 8 hours of sunlight in a day would really be depressing if it didn't mean that the Christmas lights could come on at 16:00.
I wonder if we have enough Christmas lights stored away to turn one of our cedars into something like the tree at Place de Paris?
"Multicultural" night
Today was "multicultural" night for supper. The girls are studying "multiculturalism" for a project for church, and part of the project was to make a multicultural meal.
For the main dish the girls chose to make Chinese casserole, which isn't really very Chinese. When I mentioned that to them, they said that I got the recipe from someone who was of Finish ancestry, so that made it a very multicultural dish. They also made Brussels sprouts, because what could be more European than something named after a country in Europe?
For desert my oldest child decided to try to recreate one of the foods that I have been missing since we left Luxembourg---chocolate croissants. So the girls took refrigerated crescent rolls (the jumbo size), rolled chocolate chips inside, and baked them. They weren't exactly like what I used to buy in Luxembourg, but they were really, really good.
At least my kids understand the idea that there are different cultures in the world. I think that they are also not quite as angry as they used to be with Europe in general. After all, a continent with such good bread can't be all bad.
For the main dish the girls chose to make Chinese casserole, which isn't really very Chinese. When I mentioned that to them, they said that I got the recipe from someone who was of Finish ancestry, so that made it a very multicultural dish. They also made Brussels sprouts, because what could be more European than something named after a country in Europe?
For desert my oldest child decided to try to recreate one of the foods that I have been missing since we left Luxembourg---chocolate croissants. So the girls took refrigerated crescent rolls (the jumbo size), rolled chocolate chips inside, and baked them. They weren't exactly like what I used to buy in Luxembourg, but they were really, really good.
At least my kids understand the idea that there are different cultures in the world. I think that they are also not quite as angry as they used to be with Europe in general. After all, a continent with such good bread can't be all bad.
11 November, 2006
30 October, 2006
Time change
I lived in Luxembourg for 13 months, and managed to be in the country for three time changes. The first time change happened while I was still adjusting to European time at the very beginning of my time in Europe. I could barely sleep at night or wake up in the morning, so the time change was just one more hurdle, one more hour.
The buses from Kehlen to town run once at hour, except on Sundays, when they would run every other hour. We would try to catch the 9:10 bus into town for church on Sundays. There was one particularly cold day where we waited at the bus stop for almost 30 minutes before we decided that the bus wasn't coming so we couldn't go to church. We went home, changed out of our church clothes, cooked lunch, and then one of the girls suggested that maybe it was a time change, because her calendar said that it was the end of Daylight Savings Time in the States. So we were at the bus stop at 8:10 instead of 9:10. If there had been a bus every hour, we would have been waiting outside the church instead of at the bus stop.
Our last time change happened while we were on our trip, right before we left Europe. About lunch time, we noticed that all the clocks were an hour ahead of us, so we thought that maybe Germany was in a different time zone, though it hadn't seemed that way to us before. Then we noticed that our clocks were off when we got back to Luxembourg, too. So it took us close to two days to figure out we had missed another time change.
I don't remember the last time we missed a time change in the States. It seems like it's on everyone's lips, and we see it on the web, and in the papers, and on TV. To me, it was just one of the signs of how really out of touch we were with Europe that we didn't even know when the time was changing, didn't have any hint at all that it was coming.
The time change last year happened about the same time our furniture arrived. Though I was in Luxembourg for 13 months, our furniture and belongings were only in the country for four and a half months. It's just another reminder of how much easier things are back in the States.
The buses from Kehlen to town run once at hour, except on Sundays, when they would run every other hour. We would try to catch the 9:10 bus into town for church on Sundays. There was one particularly cold day where we waited at the bus stop for almost 30 minutes before we decided that the bus wasn't coming so we couldn't go to church. We went home, changed out of our church clothes, cooked lunch, and then one of the girls suggested that maybe it was a time change, because her calendar said that it was the end of Daylight Savings Time in the States. So we were at the bus stop at 8:10 instead of 9:10. If there had been a bus every hour, we would have been waiting outside the church instead of at the bus stop.
Our last time change happened while we were on our trip, right before we left Europe. About lunch time, we noticed that all the clocks were an hour ahead of us, so we thought that maybe Germany was in a different time zone, though it hadn't seemed that way to us before. Then we noticed that our clocks were off when we got back to Luxembourg, too. So it took us close to two days to figure out we had missed another time change.
I don't remember the last time we missed a time change in the States. It seems like it's on everyone's lips, and we see it on the web, and in the papers, and on TV. To me, it was just one of the signs of how really out of touch we were with Europe that we didn't even know when the time was changing, didn't have any hint at all that it was coming.
The time change last year happened about the same time our furniture arrived. Though I was in Luxembourg for 13 months, our furniture and belongings were only in the country for four and a half months. It's just another reminder of how much easier things are back in the States.
12 October, 2006
Foreign Plates
Darin heard a story on the news this morning about a man who was having a plate removed from the bones in his arm, and when the surgeon got the arm open, he realized that he didn't have the right kind of screw driver. So he sent someone to the hardware store to buy one and then get it sterilized. The problem was that the man's plate had been installed in a foreign hospital. Darin thought it was a great story. It made my ankle hurt.
05 October, 2006
October's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee
Our valley runs east-west, so we can see the storms before they arrive. This storm makes its approach right at sunset. Awesome.
29 September, 2006
Six Month Anniversary
As we approach the six-month anniversary of our leaving Luxembourg, it seems like a good time to reflect, once again, on what we've learned and how we can improve.
Many of the things I had read *before* we went to Luxembourg said that to help the kids transition back to the States, we needed to keep reminding them that we were Americans and not Europeans. Studies of kids whose parents move overseas for jobs (outside of the U.S. military) show that those who want the kids to do everything to "fit in" with the new culture produce kids that have trouble adjusting to the new culture, the U.S. culture if they move back to the U.S., and often an aversion to moving overseas as adults. This was especially true for children of missionaries.
One of my former boss's main criticism of how my husband and I had handled things was that we had created an "American island" for our girls, so of course, they could never be happy. When I look back at our year in Luxembourg, I don't see how we could have done anything else. The government schools in Luxembourg didn't want my children. Language schools in Luxembourg don't teach children (that's what the government schools were for). I didn't make enough money to send them to a private school. All that was left was our American island.
In the end, it turned out for the best. We didn't stay long in Luxembourg, and the transition back to the States was fairly easy. I'm not sure, in the long run, that the transition to Tennessee was that much worse than if we had moved here straight from Northern Virginia. The kids and I miss our friends and our church. There is a learning curve to being poor---no more eating out, no more big presents for birthdays and Christmas. But that would be true whether or not we had been to Luxembourg.
Darin and I had wanted to leave Northern Virginia for some time, but I don't think we would have ever done it if I hadn't been offered the "perfect" job in Luxembourg. Moving to Luxembourg got us out of our very comfortable life with our very comfortable salary in Northern Virginia. Darin and I had been longing for peace, quiet, and the ability to see the stars at night. Now we have all those things. We may have less spending money, but we have a great farm, wildlife and stars to watch, less stress, and that quiet we wanted.
What are we missing? Mostly health insurance. Would it be better to be in Luxembourg with their socialized medicine? No way. Even when we were in Luxembourg, we never understood the system enough to get dentist appointments, or check-ups, or things like mamograms, etc. I'm 42 years old, and I've never had a mamogram, and it's been close to three years since my last test for cervical cancer. The kids need dentist appointments, and braces. But could we get those things if we were in Luxembourg? It would probably have been possible, but we didn't have anyone to show us how.
What would be different in our lives if we had moved straight from the DC area to Tennessee? For one, I would never have learned any French. I really enjoyed that part of living abroad. But on the flip side, the kids learned some French and now refuse to ever speak it. There is a deeper hatred for all things French that is usual for an American, especially in my middle child. We have a deeper appreciation for America. We hear people talk about the problems here, like "lack of affordable health care" and immigration, and those problems seem so small compared to what they are facing in Europe. There is talk of how this country is so deeply divided, and how the gap is widening, but we still solve things peacefully, for the most part. This is not the case in Europe, especially in France. I suppose that maybe I wouldn't have a plate in my leg if we hadn't lived in Luxembourg, but I'm adjusting to that also.
My prayers now for my family are for an easing of the anger against Europe, for new friends in Tennessee, and a job for Darin that will give us health insurance. A year after we have insurance, I can get the plate out of my leg. Maybe by then I can convince the kids to speak French again, and we can live our lives with our wonderful appreciation for this country, and none of the negative side-effects from living in Luxembourg.
Here's to the next six months.
Many of the things I had read *before* we went to Luxembourg said that to help the kids transition back to the States, we needed to keep reminding them that we were Americans and not Europeans. Studies of kids whose parents move overseas for jobs (outside of the U.S. military) show that those who want the kids to do everything to "fit in" with the new culture produce kids that have trouble adjusting to the new culture, the U.S. culture if they move back to the U.S., and often an aversion to moving overseas as adults. This was especially true for children of missionaries.
One of my former boss's main criticism of how my husband and I had handled things was that we had created an "American island" for our girls, so of course, they could never be happy. When I look back at our year in Luxembourg, I don't see how we could have done anything else. The government schools in Luxembourg didn't want my children. Language schools in Luxembourg don't teach children (that's what the government schools were for). I didn't make enough money to send them to a private school. All that was left was our American island.
In the end, it turned out for the best. We didn't stay long in Luxembourg, and the transition back to the States was fairly easy. I'm not sure, in the long run, that the transition to Tennessee was that much worse than if we had moved here straight from Northern Virginia. The kids and I miss our friends and our church. There is a learning curve to being poor---no more eating out, no more big presents for birthdays and Christmas. But that would be true whether or not we had been to Luxembourg.
Darin and I had wanted to leave Northern Virginia for some time, but I don't think we would have ever done it if I hadn't been offered the "perfect" job in Luxembourg. Moving to Luxembourg got us out of our very comfortable life with our very comfortable salary in Northern Virginia. Darin and I had been longing for peace, quiet, and the ability to see the stars at night. Now we have all those things. We may have less spending money, but we have a great farm, wildlife and stars to watch, less stress, and that quiet we wanted.
What are we missing? Mostly health insurance. Would it be better to be in Luxembourg with their socialized medicine? No way. Even when we were in Luxembourg, we never understood the system enough to get dentist appointments, or check-ups, or things like mamograms, etc. I'm 42 years old, and I've never had a mamogram, and it's been close to three years since my last test for cervical cancer. The kids need dentist appointments, and braces. But could we get those things if we were in Luxembourg? It would probably have been possible, but we didn't have anyone to show us how.
What would be different in our lives if we had moved straight from the DC area to Tennessee? For one, I would never have learned any French. I really enjoyed that part of living abroad. But on the flip side, the kids learned some French and now refuse to ever speak it. There is a deeper hatred for all things French that is usual for an American, especially in my middle child. We have a deeper appreciation for America. We hear people talk about the problems here, like "lack of affordable health care" and immigration, and those problems seem so small compared to what they are facing in Europe. There is talk of how this country is so deeply divided, and how the gap is widening, but we still solve things peacefully, for the most part. This is not the case in Europe, especially in France. I suppose that maybe I wouldn't have a plate in my leg if we hadn't lived in Luxembourg, but I'm adjusting to that also.
My prayers now for my family are for an easing of the anger against Europe, for new friends in Tennessee, and a job for Darin that will give us health insurance. A year after we have insurance, I can get the plate out of my leg. Maybe by then I can convince the kids to speak French again, and we can live our lives with our wonderful appreciation for this country, and none of the negative side-effects from living in Luxembourg.
Here's to the next six months.
19 September, 2006
A Hearty Good Morning to Ye!
Yes, I know that time just be flyin' by, but it is again one of our family's favorite made-up holidays --- Talk Like a Pirate Day!
(If you've never celebrated the day before, I encourage ye to try it today. It's a wonderful way to make life a bit less stressful.)
The crew here in Tennessee has been under the weather, so the emailin' and bloggin' has been on the light side o' things, but I shall try to remedy that today.
Bon sang! Though me pirate talkin' skills are still sharp for English, I be havin' some trouble rememberin' how to talk like a French pirate. I may have to sneak downstairs this afternoon to watch me pirate movie in French to recall the old phrases. If you be wantin' to review your French pirate, please see last year's blog entry.
I wish ye all the best on this fair holiday. Godspeed to ye, and always a strong wind!
From Mad Matilda, and the rest o' Cap'n Pete's crew: Pegleg, Abby, and Jane.
(If you've never celebrated the day before, I encourage ye to try it today. It's a wonderful way to make life a bit less stressful.)
The crew here in Tennessee has been under the weather, so the emailin' and bloggin' has been on the light side o' things, but I shall try to remedy that today.
Bon sang! Though me pirate talkin' skills are still sharp for English, I be havin' some trouble rememberin' how to talk like a French pirate. I may have to sneak downstairs this afternoon to watch me pirate movie in French to recall the old phrases. If you be wantin' to review your French pirate, please see last year's blog entry.
I wish ye all the best on this fair holiday. Godspeed to ye, and always a strong wind!
From Mad Matilda, and the rest o' Cap'n Pete's crew: Pegleg, Abby, and Jane.
11 September, 2006
September's Beautiful Picture from the U.S.A.
At the beginning of September, we took a field trip to some civil war battle sites in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. This picture was taken at Antietam National Battlefield, on what is now called Patriot's day, September 11.
21 August, 2006
August's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee
Our first day of school for the new school year. (Patchy is reading the dictionary.)
When the girls arrived in Luxembourg last year, they were 3-4 months behind in school. Not having all our books until October didn't help the matter, so the school year that should have started in September 2005 didn't start until December 2005. But the girls worked very hard all through the summer, and we were able to be back on schedule, starting our 2006-2007 school year today.
18 July, 2006
National Holidays and the World Cup
I forgot the French National Holiday last week, the one that's known in the States as Bastille Day. Last year the guys laughed at me when I wished them a happy Bastille Day. I took a leave day for my national holiday on July 4, and yet the French guys worked through theirs. I suppose part of it is that I have kids who expect a real holiday when it's time for a holiday. Not to mention that U.S. Independence Day on the Fourth of July is Darin's favorite holiday.
I had the Grand Duke's birthday marked on my calendar, so I was thinking about that as Darin and I talked about our plans for Independence Day this year. In Luxembourg, they have really nice fireworks, we were told, to celebrate the Grand Duke's birthday, which really isn't his birthday, so it's more like a national holiday for Luxembourg, on 26th of June. We didn't go see the big fireworks show last year. We said we'd try it "next year", but obviously, that didn't happen either. Our very first 4th of July living near DC (back in 1992), Darin and I went into town for the fireworks. We couldn't get into the concert, so we sat between the Capitol building and the Washington Monument. People had the concert playing on radios, so it was nice to hear the music and the show was nice. But after the kids came along, it was difficult to imagine finding a place for all of us downtown. My friend Mary Ellen said that if I really wanted to see the concert, then I should go to the dress rehearsal on the 3rd because it's a full dress rehearsal, just like the show, and the crowds are less, so it's easier to get in. But I never went. I was too tired from working that day, or the weather was too hot or too rainy, so I just kept saying, "I'll do it next year." But I never did.
This year in downtown Nashville, part of the free concert at Riverside Park was someone the kids really wanted to see -- Josh Turner. As Darin and I were talking about it, I felt like the idea that "we could do it next year" was right at the surface. I finally told Darin that we just couldn't do that this year or we might never go. And this year we would get to see Josh Turner. So we went.
As I reflect on our lives in Luxembourg, it often seems like a dream. There was a time in my life when I could understand French, and watch television in French or German, but that time has past. There was a time when I would walk past castles and cathedrals to get to work. Now it's gone, and it feels like such a distant memory. But at least I learned some lessons about taking chances and not putting things off.
At the time of my unfortunate demise in Luxembourg, the office was made up of 1 American (me), 2 Belgians, 2 French, and 2 Italians. If my boss was in town, then 3 French. I was thinking about the balance of power the week of the World Cup Finals. I'm sure it made for interesting office dynamics. And though at least one of the Italians tell us often that he is really only a part of the European Union, I think that changes when it's World Cup time. Maybe this will help the Italians feel better after they lost out on the papacy thing to Germany last year.
ttfn
I had the Grand Duke's birthday marked on my calendar, so I was thinking about that as Darin and I talked about our plans for Independence Day this year. In Luxembourg, they have really nice fireworks, we were told, to celebrate the Grand Duke's birthday, which really isn't his birthday, so it's more like a national holiday for Luxembourg, on 26th of June. We didn't go see the big fireworks show last year. We said we'd try it "next year", but obviously, that didn't happen either. Our very first 4th of July living near DC (back in 1992), Darin and I went into town for the fireworks. We couldn't get into the concert, so we sat between the Capitol building and the Washington Monument. People had the concert playing on radios, so it was nice to hear the music and the show was nice. But after the kids came along, it was difficult to imagine finding a place for all of us downtown. My friend Mary Ellen said that if I really wanted to see the concert, then I should go to the dress rehearsal on the 3rd because it's a full dress rehearsal, just like the show, and the crowds are less, so it's easier to get in. But I never went. I was too tired from working that day, or the weather was too hot or too rainy, so I just kept saying, "I'll do it next year." But I never did.
This year in downtown Nashville, part of the free concert at Riverside Park was someone the kids really wanted to see -- Josh Turner. As Darin and I were talking about it, I felt like the idea that "we could do it next year" was right at the surface. I finally told Darin that we just couldn't do that this year or we might never go. And this year we would get to see Josh Turner. So we went.
As I reflect on our lives in Luxembourg, it often seems like a dream. There was a time in my life when I could understand French, and watch television in French or German, but that time has past. There was a time when I would walk past castles and cathedrals to get to work. Now it's gone, and it feels like such a distant memory. But at least I learned some lessons about taking chances and not putting things off.
At the time of my unfortunate demise in Luxembourg, the office was made up of 1 American (me), 2 Belgians, 2 French, and 2 Italians. If my boss was in town, then 3 French. I was thinking about the balance of power the week of the World Cup Finals. I'm sure it made for interesting office dynamics. And though at least one of the Italians tell us often that he is really only a part of the European Union, I think that changes when it's World Cup time. Maybe this will help the Italians feel better after they lost out on the papacy thing to Germany last year.
ttfn
08 July, 2006
A Last Visit to the Orthepedist
I'm back from my parents' house and my doctor visit yesterday. It went just like I had hoped it would! My doctor said I don't need another visit or any more physical therapy. The x-rays looked great, she was impressed with my flexibility and strength, and she told me once again that the doctor in Luxembourg did a really good job on a really tough break.
She said that I should wear my ankle brace when walking on uneven ground (gravel or grass) for another 6 months, and no high heels for 6 months to a year (like that was ever an issue). And she suggested that I wear the ankle brace for the rest of my life if I'm doing something that could cause an ankle injury, like sports, rock climbing, etc. I suppose that also covers walking on ice, but I forgot to ask about that part. Hopefully that's not such a big issue in TN.
Hooray for walking!!!
She said that I should wear my ankle brace when walking on uneven ground (gravel or grass) for another 6 months, and no high heels for 6 months to a year (like that was ever an issue). And she suggested that I wear the ankle brace for the rest of my life if I'm doing something that could cause an ankle injury, like sports, rock climbing, etc. I suppose that also covers walking on ice, but I forgot to ask about that part. Hopefully that's not such a big issue in TN.
Hooray for walking!!!
05 July, 2006
July's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee
Across from Riverside Park in downtown Nashville for the free concert for the Fourth of July.
29 June, 2006
June's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee
The view south, from my kitchen window, though I don't always get to see so many turkeys at once.
14 June, 2006
Language Issues in Middle Tennessee
It was very common in Luxembourg to hear voice mail messages in more than one language. For example, if you made a mistake while making a telephone call, a voice would say in French that the number you tried to call hadn't been assigned, then the voice would say it again in German, and then again in English. Some recorded messages had Portuguese in the mix also.
Some places in the States give you a choice between English and Spanish, like at the ATM or the credit card machines at Wal-Mart. I really don't think much about that anymore because it always defaults to English.
But I ran across something different here. A couple of weeks ago, I called our phone company because I was having some trouble with my DSL box. A message plays in perfect English --- "Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available support person. Your call may be monitored for training and quality purposes." Then another message plays, recorded by a man with a much lower voice than the first man, and he says the **exact** same words, but with a Middle Tennessee accent. Most of the time when I have to call tech support, I'm not in the best of moods, but hearing them translate the opening message into both Yankee and Middle Tennessee always makes me smile.
I haven't been talking to strangers much lately, which is very unusual for me, and I think I finally figured it out---I don't know what language to use. I was at one time quite fluent in East Tennessee, and I think if I just slowed it down some, then it would be pretty close to what they speak in Middle Tennessee. But I'm a bit out of practice since I've been using mostly my Yankee accent at work and around Darin. (Though close friends know that my East Tennessee starts creeping back in when I get tired.)
So if I meet someone new and I'm with Darin, do I speak Yankee so he'll understand, or do I try to speak Tennessee so the stranger will understand me better? I just never know what to do.
When I switch between the two in a short space of time, I risk being made fun of by my husband. I feel like I need to pick a language and just stick with it.
The side effect of my indecision is that Darin has turned into the outgoing type of person lately. I suppose I had been enabling him to be shy all these years, and now that I've stopped talking, he has to talk. My mother loves to tell the story that when I was four and my brother was two, my parents were starting to worry about him because he didn't talk. Then my parents sent me to my grandparents, and my brother started talking in complete sentences immediately. He just couldn't get a word in edgewise before. I suppose I was doing the same thing to Darin. I did always think that Darin and my brother had a lot in common.
I s'pose this typin' is right good nuff for now. I'd best be gettin' on to bed.
Some places in the States give you a choice between English and Spanish, like at the ATM or the credit card machines at Wal-Mart. I really don't think much about that anymore because it always defaults to English.
But I ran across something different here. A couple of weeks ago, I called our phone company because I was having some trouble with my DSL box. A message plays in perfect English --- "Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available support person. Your call may be monitored for training and quality purposes." Then another message plays, recorded by a man with a much lower voice than the first man, and he says the **exact** same words, but with a Middle Tennessee accent. Most of the time when I have to call tech support, I'm not in the best of moods, but hearing them translate the opening message into both Yankee and Middle Tennessee always makes me smile.
I haven't been talking to strangers much lately, which is very unusual for me, and I think I finally figured it out---I don't know what language to use. I was at one time quite fluent in East Tennessee, and I think if I just slowed it down some, then it would be pretty close to what they speak in Middle Tennessee. But I'm a bit out of practice since I've been using mostly my Yankee accent at work and around Darin. (Though close friends know that my East Tennessee starts creeping back in when I get tired.)
So if I meet someone new and I'm with Darin, do I speak Yankee so he'll understand, or do I try to speak Tennessee so the stranger will understand me better? I just never know what to do.
When I switch between the two in a short space of time, I risk being made fun of by my husband. I feel like I need to pick a language and just stick with it.
The side effect of my indecision is that Darin has turned into the outgoing type of person lately. I suppose I had been enabling him to be shy all these years, and now that I've stopped talking, he has to talk. My mother loves to tell the story that when I was four and my brother was two, my parents were starting to worry about him because he didn't talk. Then my parents sent me to my grandparents, and my brother started talking in complete sentences immediately. He just couldn't get a word in edgewise before. I suppose I was doing the same thing to Darin. I did always think that Darin and my brother had a lot in common.
I s'pose this typin' is right good nuff for now. I'd best be gettin' on to bed.
10 June, 2006
Things We Did Right, a.k.a., the Anglican Church
Right now I can't think of very many things we did right in our move to Luxembourg. I should have stayed in the States until the work permit was in hand. We should have gotten everything in writing from my boss, including more information on moving expenses and taxes, and maybe we should have even lived in Belgium so that the kids could go to public school or be homeschooled with less hassle. And it would have been nice to know then what I know now about moving companies.
But the one thing we did do correctly was hook up with the Anglican Church.
My first Sunday in Luxembourg was Palm Sunday. I went to another English-speaking church in town. There was a guest speaker because the pastor was gone, so maybe my first impression was the wrong impression, but they made a bad first impression on me.
I was 15 minutes early for the service. I came in and sat down. No one spoke to me. The service started, and we sang for 30 minutes straight, but only 3 songs. The songs were boring, both from a musical and a lyrical standpoint, and not at all related to Palm Sunday or Holy Week.
The speaker, at one point in his really long sermon, said that things now aren't like in Jesus' time. OK, hard to disagree with that. He said that now we're in the church age, so needs are met and miracles happen through the church. He asked us all to look around the room. He said that if we were in jail or in the hospital, these people we see would be the ones to help us out. For me, my first Sunday in a new country, not knowing anyone in the room, and no one even bothering to speak to me the entire service, it was a very depressing thought. As I was leaving the church, I was in tears, so it's no wonder that no one spoke to me on the way out. I was thankful that I knew the truth, that I didn't have to depend on those people, that I needed to depend only on God.
For Maundy Thursday services, I went to the Anglican church. A couple of ladies introduced themselves to me, and one lady brought me a hymnal. And then a few more people came, mostly for the choir, and they all came and welcomed me. I think everyone spoke to me, except the organist, who was playing. It turns out that choir practice is on Thursday nights, so the choir came to sing for the service, and then practice afterwards. There were 10 people in the choir (I guess some were out of town), and there were six of us in the congregation. And two priests, Chris and Joan, a married couple.
The service was nice. The hymns were unfamiliar to me, but that let me really focus on the words, and the words and the music were beautiful. Pastor Joan gave the sermon, talking about what it means to be a servant, and encouraging us to focus on the kind of attitude it took for Jesus to make it through on Friday---encouraging us to live like Jesus.
For communion, since we were "only a little more than the 13 at the Last Supper," Pastor Chris invited us all up to the front. So we stood around the table on the altar in a half-circle. It was nice. And then we went back to our seats, and the choir sang a special in Latin. I heard five parts, three from the ladies and two from the men, and only 10 people. It was beautiful, and I like the Latin.
After the service, Pastor Chris was asking everyone if they had eaten yet. There were four of us (out of eight) who were up for going out. He didn't ask the choir because they had started practicing.
It was nice evening. I had some pizza and some water. And the conversation was great. And they picked a restaurant in the Limpertsburg neighborhood so I would be close to my flat and wouldn't have to walk home in the dark.
I talked to Chris some also about my experiences of the previous Sunday, without going into details, mostly that I had a very bad first impression. I told him the pastor was gone. He said that I really should go back sometime so I could meet the pastor. But he thought I should come mostly to the Anglican church and sing in their choir.
After that, a family in the church invited me over for dinner, and then lent us dishes until our furniture arrived. Chris and Joan lent us some chairs, and when they came by to deliver them, Joan insisted on gathering up all our dirty clothes and washing them for us because the washing machine we ordered had been delayed. When a family in church went on holiday to England during the summer, they lent us their second car for two weeks, probably the best two weeks we spent in Luxembourg.
We tried that other church again, but I never felt comfortable there. We were the only Americans there, and when church was over, everyone broke into groups and started speaking their native language, and we were left out.
At the Anglican church, we were not the only Americans, but it really didn't matter where we were from. The British at the Anglican church honestly don't seem to notice that we're not British. I really felt like part of the family there.
Then we decided to leave and return to the States, and I broke my leg. Joan arranged for people to bring in food for Darin and the kids. She arranged for some men to help Darin load the shipping container. She and Chris had the kids over for dinner and then brought them by the hospital to visit me. Besides Joan, several other ladies from the church came by the hospital also, bringing small gifts like Sudoku puzzles and hand lotion.
One night I was lying in my hospital bed thinking about how much the hospital felt like prison, and it dawned on me---the guy at the other church had been right. When we were really in trouble, it was the people at the church that really came through for us. But not that church, it was the Anglican church!
Pastor Chris once spoke of being in a church service and singing a hymn about the majesty of God, and as the pipe organ went into the last verse, having a vision of God that was very powerful. Something very similar happened to me in a service at the Anglican church.
In October, there was a service for Joan to ordain her officially as the assistant chaplain for the Anglican church in Luxembourg. We went to the licensing ceremony on that Thursday night. It was a beautiful service, and they incorporated into the service and the vows the fact that Joan and Chris were already united in calling and in holy matrimony. I thought that part was really nice.
After the vows, there was a time of greeting, and Joan came around to everyone in the church and thanked them for coming. The hymn Joan had chosen for the greeting time was completely new to me, and really beautiful. The line that struck me the most, at the time, was "We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat and find You kneeling at our feet." After everything we had been through, it was just such a beautiful picture of Jesus, and I had this vision of Him there with us, and I felt completely overwhelmed. Then when Joan came by to shake my hand, and I thought of Joan gathering up our dirty clothes to take to her house, I realized that it was a beautiful picture of Joan also.
After the service, I read through the words again. They were even more beautiful than I had remembered.
If you do move to Luxembourg, I fully recommend being a part of the Anglican church in Luxembourg. It's the best decision you will make.
But the one thing we did do correctly was hook up with the Anglican Church.
My first Sunday in Luxembourg was Palm Sunday. I went to another English-speaking church in town. There was a guest speaker because the pastor was gone, so maybe my first impression was the wrong impression, but they made a bad first impression on me.
I was 15 minutes early for the service. I came in and sat down. No one spoke to me. The service started, and we sang for 30 minutes straight, but only 3 songs. The songs were boring, both from a musical and a lyrical standpoint, and not at all related to Palm Sunday or Holy Week.
The speaker, at one point in his really long sermon, said that things now aren't like in Jesus' time. OK, hard to disagree with that. He said that now we're in the church age, so needs are met and miracles happen through the church. He asked us all to look around the room. He said that if we were in jail or in the hospital, these people we see would be the ones to help us out. For me, my first Sunday in a new country, not knowing anyone in the room, and no one even bothering to speak to me the entire service, it was a very depressing thought. As I was leaving the church, I was in tears, so it's no wonder that no one spoke to me on the way out. I was thankful that I knew the truth, that I didn't have to depend on those people, that I needed to depend only on God.
For Maundy Thursday services, I went to the Anglican church. A couple of ladies introduced themselves to me, and one lady brought me a hymnal. And then a few more people came, mostly for the choir, and they all came and welcomed me. I think everyone spoke to me, except the organist, who was playing. It turns out that choir practice is on Thursday nights, so the choir came to sing for the service, and then practice afterwards. There were 10 people in the choir (I guess some were out of town), and there were six of us in the congregation. And two priests, Chris and Joan, a married couple.
The service was nice. The hymns were unfamiliar to me, but that let me really focus on the words, and the words and the music were beautiful. Pastor Joan gave the sermon, talking about what it means to be a servant, and encouraging us to focus on the kind of attitude it took for Jesus to make it through on Friday---encouraging us to live like Jesus.
For communion, since we were "only a little more than the 13 at the Last Supper," Pastor Chris invited us all up to the front. So we stood around the table on the altar in a half-circle. It was nice. And then we went back to our seats, and the choir sang a special in Latin. I heard five parts, three from the ladies and two from the men, and only 10 people. It was beautiful, and I like the Latin.
After the service, Pastor Chris was asking everyone if they had eaten yet. There were four of us (out of eight) who were up for going out. He didn't ask the choir because they had started practicing.
It was nice evening. I had some pizza and some water. And the conversation was great. And they picked a restaurant in the Limpertsburg neighborhood so I would be close to my flat and wouldn't have to walk home in the dark.
I talked to Chris some also about my experiences of the previous Sunday, without going into details, mostly that I had a very bad first impression. I told him the pastor was gone. He said that I really should go back sometime so I could meet the pastor. But he thought I should come mostly to the Anglican church and sing in their choir.
After that, a family in the church invited me over for dinner, and then lent us dishes until our furniture arrived. Chris and Joan lent us some chairs, and when they came by to deliver them, Joan insisted on gathering up all our dirty clothes and washing them for us because the washing machine we ordered had been delayed. When a family in church went on holiday to England during the summer, they lent us their second car for two weeks, probably the best two weeks we spent in Luxembourg.
We tried that other church again, but I never felt comfortable there. We were the only Americans there, and when church was over, everyone broke into groups and started speaking their native language, and we were left out.
At the Anglican church, we were not the only Americans, but it really didn't matter where we were from. The British at the Anglican church honestly don't seem to notice that we're not British. I really felt like part of the family there.
Then we decided to leave and return to the States, and I broke my leg. Joan arranged for people to bring in food for Darin and the kids. She arranged for some men to help Darin load the shipping container. She and Chris had the kids over for dinner and then brought them by the hospital to visit me. Besides Joan, several other ladies from the church came by the hospital also, bringing small gifts like Sudoku puzzles and hand lotion.
One night I was lying in my hospital bed thinking about how much the hospital felt like prison, and it dawned on me---the guy at the other church had been right. When we were really in trouble, it was the people at the church that really came through for us. But not that church, it was the Anglican church!
Pastor Chris once spoke of being in a church service and singing a hymn about the majesty of God, and as the pipe organ went into the last verse, having a vision of God that was very powerful. Something very similar happened to me in a service at the Anglican church.
In October, there was a service for Joan to ordain her officially as the assistant chaplain for the Anglican church in Luxembourg. We went to the licensing ceremony on that Thursday night. It was a beautiful service, and they incorporated into the service and the vows the fact that Joan and Chris were already united in calling and in holy matrimony. I thought that part was really nice.
After the vows, there was a time of greeting, and Joan came around to everyone in the church and thanked them for coming. The hymn Joan had chosen for the greeting time was completely new to me, and really beautiful. The line that struck me the most, at the time, was "We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat and find You kneeling at our feet." After everything we had been through, it was just such a beautiful picture of Jesus, and I had this vision of Him there with us, and I felt completely overwhelmed. Then when Joan came by to shake my hand, and I thought of Joan gathering up our dirty clothes to take to her house, I realized that it was a beautiful picture of Joan also.
After the service, I read through the words again. They were even more beautiful than I had remembered.
Great God, Your Love
by Brian Wren
Great God, Your love has called us here
As we, by love, for love were made.
Your living likeness still we bear,
Though marred, dishonoured, disobeyed.
We come, with all our heart and mind
Your call to hear, Your love to find.
Great God, in Christ, You call our name
And then receive us as Your own.
Not through some merit, right or claim
But by Your gracious love alone.
We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat
And find You kneeling at our feet.
Great God, in Christ, You set us free
Your life to live, Your joy to share.
Give us your Spirit's liberty
To turn from guilt and dull despair
And offer all that faith can do
While love is making all things new.
If you do move to Luxembourg, I fully recommend being a part of the Anglican church in Luxembourg. It's the best decision you will make.
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