Toto the Too Small Toilet or How to Know It's Time to Go Home

We've known it was coming, first, because that was always the plan and then more definitely as McLeod's company began the process. But somehow, until recently, leaving Taiwan for good was just a date on a calendar. Even when our U.S. house went on the market mid-March, it wasn't really sinking in. Afterall, we haven't lived there for three years, so it didn't really feel like our house anymore. But then small things, little "for the last time" moments, started accumulating and bigger things started happening like turning in official school paperwork to withdraw the kids. Then one day, quite suddenly, you make a mental shift, and it's time to go.

My mental shift happened with a cracked toilet. For the last 6 months, we've had an annoying leak in the apartment. Clearly some pipe in the bathroom was leaking beneath the tile and seeping out to the wood flooring in the bedroom. We'd go away for awhile. The engineers would fix something, replace boards and then pretty soon the water stain would show up again. When we came back from our final big trip to Palau, they assured me it was fixed. Yes, I'm happy to report that leak WAS finally fixed. But with the first post-vacation flush, water started seeping out of the porcelain itself and puddling on the tile floor. Someone cracked the toilet. Not a happy day, mostly for poor Mr. Lee, the hardworking, kind-hearted head engineer. How sad he looked to tell me, "No use it. Tomorrow... plumber." The kids and I made a nice out-of-order sign.

Tomorrow came. Two plumbers and an engineer walked into the apartment. It didn't register with me that they had a medium sized cardboard box on a trolley outside my door, so I proceeded to do what I always do when working with repairmen here: go into a kind of interpretive dance to explain the problem. I am suddenly having flashbacks to that day, specifically the point where I got down on all fours in our small bathroom to point out the leak on the toilet. This elicited an embarrassed, "Yes, yes, yes, ok, ok, ok" from the three men who I now realize were getting a view of my rear end. It was soon revealed that they were not there to repair the leak. They were taking away our toilet and replacing it with a smaller version.

Gone is our nice, big (read: wide-seat) Kohler. Sitting in its place is Toto the Too Small. It is narrow, and it is low. Parts of you hurt if you linger too long. Your magazines fall off the back because there is a 6-inch gap between the tank and the wall. Suddenly our castle is without its throne. And so it's time to move to another castle, a Texas-sized castle with well-equipped bathrooms.

Now we are knee-deep in preparations. We sold one house and bought another after a whirlwind trip to the States by McLeod. I have a notebook full of lists and a folder full of paperwork. There are pages in the notebook where I've scribbled things like "Rattan Chairs--cheaper in Taiwan" and "Get instructions for sprinkler system" along with many much more important items. McLeod comes home each day to what he calls the beaver dam at the front door, the fruits of my labor as I clean out every drawer and cabinet. Heaps of stuff sorted to toss, pass along, or donate get distributed and then replenished. And I keep finding things I didn't even know we brought to Taiwan--McLeod's antique pocket watch, a plate that says Chicago on it, candlesticks--and of course, things that don't even belong to me. That thing you thought you lost? Don't worry, I'm sure it's sitting in a bag with your name on it at my front door.

And somehow, perhaps because my brain is so full of lists and plans or maybe because it's starting to become all-American again, I find myself making rookie mistakes. I took the wrong bus twice in 10 days. I tried to make a special order at McDonalds--something I know better than to try to do--and ended up with a sausage egg burger with mayonaise. I took something on a toothpick from a lady passing out samples at the grocery store, and guess what? It was STILL, after three years, a weird, squishy, fried unknown substance from the sea. The only difference was that I actually chewed it up and swallowed it and didn't even stop to think what I'd eaten until I was at least three aisles over.

Most fitting of all, though, McLeod and I recently had a movie night to rival our very first movie night in Taipei. Out to see Star Trek, our brains bubbling with trivia and critical buzz about the film, we walked up to the counter and asked for tickets to the 9pm showing. (By the way the kiosks for self-serve tickets seem to be permanently broken--perhaps too many big American meat hooks pounded on the screens?) Up, up, up the escalators, checking each floor against our ticket and being ushered ever higher by the helpful staff. At last in our seats, we settled in for the previews, finding them a tad violent but not unusual for Taiwan. At last the movie began. A strange sepia-tinted sequence flickered on the screen with tinny piano playing. Were these the young Kirk's family photos? A death in the family perhaps as the series of stills from a circa 1900 funeral flashed on the screen. Back story to what he will become as captain of the Enterprise? But when the images started to cut away to someone oozing big drops of the red stuff, we grabbed up our tickets and stared at the Chinese characters willing them to make sense. By then the title came up on the screen: The Haunting in Connecticut. We bolted from our seats. Down, down, down the escalators we went to hand off our tickets to a perplexed manager and say, "Wrong Movie! Star Trek? Star Trek?" Turns out there wasn't a 9pm showing of Star Trek so we'd been sold the next best thing. There was, however, a 9:10pm showing of Star Trek, so they traded out the tickets and ushered us immediately into theater 1 on the main floor. Just in time for the previews to start. We had a great night, made all the better by our near-haunting in Conneticut.

But now the credits are rolling on this expat adventure. In a few days we board the plane, bags full of trinkets, hearts full of memories. We've taken time over the last month to see favorite places. Yingge, the pottery town, successfully emptied my wallet as I stocked up on "just a few more" dishes, tea cups and vases. We spent a weekend at McLeod's beloved Green Island with my dive buddy Cathy and her family. While Cathy, McLeod and I were 20 meters under on those fantastic, ancient coral beds, Cathy's husband Wei-Ai drove 4 kids calling themselves the Spriters all over the island in a golf cart now known as the Adventure Truck. The locals would grin, wave and make way for the bunch who would serenade them with "Hey now, you're an All-star! Get your game on. Go Play!" We've also had a few last meals of dumplings, along with more than a few visits to Chili's, and we made a final trip to Taipei 101, the now almost-tallest building in the world. These last weeks have been blessed, too, with time to savor moments with friends. We will be forever grateful for the friendships that changed us from strangers in a strange land into neighbors and friends, living happy lives in a place they became proud to call home.

Zai Jian, Taipei! The Texpats are so very glad they came.

Trips Part II: Palau

For our final big trip in Asia we traded the fresh powder of Nagano for the jungle achipeligo of Palau. Fans of the Survivor series may remember the island chain from a few seasons ago. I never watched it, but hearing that an island was the featured site for a rough and tough adventure left me wondering what to expect. I was pleased to find out I would not be roughing it by any means--Palau Pacific Resort ain't too shabby--but we did get out there and have some once-in-a-lifetime adventures. The shortlist of our activities reads like this:

• dive coral reef gardens, deep holes, and wrecks



• kayak archepeligo while marine biologist points out birds, bats, and sea critters



• visit cave full of bats and do small cliff dives into ocean



• manoever through a tunnel at low tide to swim in completely hidden lake



• hike to WWII Japanese bunkers, climb inside and look at old helmets, bottles and an elegy to a fallen soldier (talk about history coming to life!)



• swim across a lake so full of stingless jellyfish that they bump against your body and face



• catch 200lbs of yellow fin tuna and have a feast with friends

When people ask what I thought about the trip, I think I must get faraway look in my eye. "Ohhhh, it was goooood." It was a nature- and history-lover's paradise. We spent one complete day on an eco-tour with marine biologist Ron, snorkeling reefs, kayaking into caves, and finding weird creatures like the sand-crunching chiton. He also took us to the barnacled wreckage from a downed WWII plane and to Japanese bunker sites where the soldiers had planned to bombard US amphibious troop carriers with ammo, grenades and homemade molitov cocktails. A favorite moment for all of us that day was when just as the tide was reaching its lowpoint, we paddled up to a small green mountain rising from the sea The lowered water level revealed a tunnel, perhaps 12-15 feet, that opened into a hidden lake. Reclining in our kayaks, we pulled ourselves through the tunnel, careful not to cut our fingers on the jagged limestone above our heads. The salt-water lake sheltered ancient basket corals. Layered on top of each other with no strong winds, waves or currents to disturb them, they had grown to enormous sizes. But what took my breath away was gazing up at the walls of lush primaeval forest around me where white-tailed tropic birds chased one another, swooping and wheeling in the expanse of sky. And each day was pretty much like that, with a new experience bubbling to the top of my favorites list.

Jellyfish Lake was surreal. You don't know whether you are in an episode of Spongebob or Fear Factor. Snorkeling to the middle of the lake you are in a blizzard of jellies. They are pulsing all around you, the grape-fruit sized ones pumping slowly, gracefully, the dime-sized ones fluttering like strange round butterflies. Your kids are picking them up and wanting to adopt them as pets (and my sweet little girl came to me solemn faced later and whispered that she accidently squeezed "hers" too hard...oops). I was surprised that I liked it.

The diving was world-class. For someone with only a dozen dives under her belt at that point, getting to dive Palau was like skipping to the front of the dessert line. If you'd told me 6 months ago that at 50 feet underwater I would attach myself to a coral reef with a metal hook and a piece of rope, I'd have thought, "That's an odd training exercie." If you'd then told me I'd do it on purpose so that I could watch sharks and baracudas swim around me, I'd have laughed in your face. But I did it. And like that little kid on the tricycle from The Incredibles all I can say is, "That was totally wicked!!"

So enjoy some pictures--most courtesy once again of photographer extrodinaire John Heinneman--but even more, if you ever get the chance, GO! It's like no other place on the planet.

Bunkers and Caves

Diving and Fishing

Trips Part I: Japan

The last few months have been packed with travel. Our first big trip of the winter season was Japan. We prepped for weeks since we didn't have much cold weather clothing and this was to be our first ski trip ever. We ordered two small ski suits and sweet-talked a Taiwan-bound US colleague into shoving them in his suitcases. But for the bulk of the gear, I tapped the Tai Tai network to beg, steal and borrow. My Kiwi friend Nicky leant out two giant Costco bags of jackets, ski pants, gloves, socks and warm base layers. Now, while Nicky would probably say the most precious item she bestowed was her lovely, toasty, trendy ski jacket, I know that in her heart, her grandpa's wool socks and grandma's long underwear were actually the most sacred. And I swear I treated them with all the reverence they deserved and felt warm and fuzzy every time I wore them!

We began our Japan trip with one week visiting Tokyo, Kyoto and Nagoya, and then headed to Nagano for a week of snow skiing at the site of the '98 Winter Olympics. Ah, Kyoto! What amazed me was seeing how the flamboyant Chinese-style architecture we've been used to--and is still evident in some of the Kyoto sites --had morphed into the more somber structures of Japan's temples and palaces. I snapped endless pictures of wood, stone and iron, and I loved the way dark rooflines looked against the cold blue sky. We got there just in time to see the last of the fall leaves, too, and I realized how long it's been since I've breathed in the damp, leafy smell of autumn. Wandering through Gion, the geisha district, plunged me back into the pages of Memoirs of a Geisha, and seeing the Golden Pavillion at Kinkakuji took my breath away.

Below: Grounds at old Imperial Palace, grounds at Ryoanji zen temple complex, Nanzenji zen temple, apprentice geisha in Gion, Kinkakuji (Golden Pavillion)

Nagano was cold, snowy goodness! We were blessed with heavy powder by night, and sunshine on the slopes by day.The kids fell in love with the snow and were champs on the ski slopes. McLeod, ever the natural athlete, went from novice to pretty good in no time. I've blocked out some of the less pleasant moments of me actually trying to ski. I have a blurred memory of saying, "Hey, this isn't so bad!" while on the near-flat training area, followed by a painfully embarrassing series of falls from the moment I exited the lift chair and begin attempting S-turns. Wait, sorry, I think that was some other girl in borrowed woolen socks. I was the rosy-cheeked lady happily snapping pictures of husband and children on the slopes and learning that if you lock eyes with a novice snowboarder, she will come sliding right toward you at increasing speed, apologizing profusely in Japanese and desperately trying to turn away. She will finally wipe out in a snow bank at the last minute and you will pretend you didn't notice. Evenings were bliss in the onsen, the traditional Japanese bath which includes first completely cleansing in the shower area, then dipping into the steamy waters for a long soak. After her first trip to the ladies onsen with me, Caroline had me send a note to her grandmother that read: We just went to the hot tub. We were NAKED. And I LOVED it! McLeod and Barret's onsen experience was a little different - while C and I pretty much had the place to ourselves other than one or two quiet Japanese ladies, the men's side was overrun with mohawk-sporting, snowboard zealots from the Western hemisphere. Every third word was "Dude!" while every other word was an obscenity. McLeod kept Barret engaged in a loud, lively conversation about his day at ski school to mask the Dude-talk on the other side of the hot pool. But what McLeod missed in relaxation at the onsen, he found fireside in the lobby where Joe, the clerk-waiter-driver-handyman-doorman (and son of the owners) turned out to also be the bartender. He produced some glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels and said, "You pour. All same price." So, toasty inside and out, we'd deal with the mounds of wet things, prep gear for the next day, conk out in our row of small beds and wake up to do it all over again.

Below: The view from the top, courtesy of John Heinemann, videos of the kids

The Art of Tai Tai Living, Part II

It’s Starbucks Wednesday! That’s the day I do “Library Time with Ms. Cassia” at Caroline’s school, and I pop in for a latte just beforehand. The dose of Starbucks makes me a read a tad fast, but the caffeine-induced sense of well-being aids in my recovery from Crazy Tuesday. That’s the day I hot-foot-it around Tienmu, shuffling the kids to activities while hauling most of their stuff on my back.

Today it will most likely be in the high 80’s, but I will still pretend it’s autumn and that I need hot coffee to warm me up. I’ll also pretend to people-watch, but I’ll actually be playing a game called “Spot someone I know on a bus.” No, not in the bus. I like scanning the ads that wrap the buses, looking for the faces of my “famous” friends.

Or rather, my friends’ famous children. Because as my good friend Nicky says, “You know you’re an expat wife when a picture of your kids goes past you on the side of a bus or you see a poster of them on a random building.” And here’s the real Tai Tai twist… You’ve taken pictures of the pictures, especially with your “famous” model kid standing next to himself.

Of course, you can’t let fame go to your head. Tai Tai’s have a constant mental battle to distinguish between what’s real and what’s gone a bit into fantasy land. For instance it is real for an expat to stick out like a sore thumb. But it is just a bit weird that it no longer bothers me when people hand me their cameras and have me take pictures of them with my all-American cuties. Someone stop us if we start signing autographs. It’s also real that we have to improvise to make holidays happen – buying decorations during summer home leave, spending a mint on a frozen imported turkey – but who in the real world has a serious discussion about whether we can post the housekeepers at vacant houses so the kids can have more places to trick-or-treat? Tai Tai is definitely a frame of mind, girls!!

So for a twist this week, we’ll answer the question, "You know you might have been an expat wife too long when…"

You no longer think anything of going to shady run down studios to model for 1000NT ($30) per hour. Ana

You actually start to like having your underwear ironed by the amah (can't speak from experience on this one). - Liisa (It’s the perfectly folded “panty packets” sorted and stacked in rainbow order that sold me.)

You describe your child in a group by saying, "He's the blond." Kerri

You give your 3rd grader a cell phone because it makes life more convenient for you! - Janell

Your kids start singing the refrain to the latest "Bed world" commercial...in Taiwanese. - Liisa

You refer to flagging down a taxi as "hiring a car" and the cabbie as "my driver." – Cassia (Seriously, his name is Enrico and I think all cars should be yellow.)

Although you and your family are Chinese American, your 7 year old looks at you and says, "Mommy, you don't look like you would speak Chinese because you have freckles." - Cathy

You have your own "pearl lady" in the market because you’ve bought jewelry from her so many times. She knows your name and where you live. She tells your friends she saw you today! Karen

You walk to your kid’s school with your helper, and she insists on carrying your purse while shading you from the sun with her umbrella. (I had to tell her to stop really.) Ana

You suspect that the real reason your friend adopted a dog from the Buddhist monks was so her kids will have something to keep them busy while you're all catching up on Facebook. - Cassia

You actually prefer drinking warm water to ice water. Janell (And when the temp drops below 85, you start looking for your jacket.)

You think it's normal to have at least one authentic designer bag - doesn't everyone have a Louis Vitton or Gucci? - Christine (And you bought said bag a mere 50 yards from home because you live next to a high-end shopping mall and pass by it everyday.)

You are so completely mad because you can only get your usual cleaning lady for 2 days this week instead of the usual 3! Janell

You see every other Expat wife wearing the same outfit as you because the one store that caters to normal sizes just got a new shipment in. - Christine

You let your 7th grader take a taxi back home. - Milena

You have the phone number of the Knock Off watch/purse guy on you cell phone. All you do is call and in a few hours a whole load of illegal items is on your Dining room table. - Marsha

You find that storage space is at such a premium that you now store your Christmas tree in your second bathtub (yes Ana that one is for you) :) Christine

Even though you (still) don't speak Chinese and the person you are communicating with doesn't speak English - you both know exactly what the other is talking about. Janell

Aren't we a good looking bunch? A few of the expat faithful celebrating "Tai Tai'" Mary's birthday!

The Art of Tai Tai Living, Part I

No, Tai Tai is not yoga or martial arts (though it does require flexibility, skill and raw survival instinct). It's basically the Chinese term for "Mrs." as in The Lady of the House, and for the (usually) unemployed expat wives, it's become a great way of explaining the weirdness of our life here. The strangely formal social interaction with our husbands' companies. The shortcuts that make life easier. The ways we've recreated home-country customs. The struggle against bone-wearing busyness. The sheepish looks when we admit our dependency on household help. The days of solo-parenting while husbands travel. The sheer pleasures of parties, charity balls, or just catching up over coffee. The realization that girl friends are a necessity to combatting isolation, self-absorption and homesickness.

Tai Tai's are resourceful. They are daring. They are manicured and pedicured.

And despite how much we tease each other for "living the good life" of travel, household help, and shopping jaunts, Tai Tai's give back to Taiwan. These are the ladies that open their homes to stray animals and their hearts to foster children. They coach the sports teams and lead the pack hikes. There's even a touch rugby team called "The Tai Tais" that formed to give the high school girls someone to practice against. But oh, how we do love to tease and joke about our expat life! In their lovely, funny, self-deprecating way, the Tai Tais filled in the answer to "You know you're an expat wife when..." just so I could give you a glimpse of the Art of Tai Tai Living.

Up this week, the battle for food! Who knew that you CAN'T get everything you need from one store no matter how big it is? Unless, that is, you're willing to cook stirfry A LOT, use toilet paper that should be called Sandy Wipe, and believe toothpaste from mainland China might actually be healthy.

Grocery Shopping and Food: You know you're an expat wife when...

• You grocery shop at 3-4 different stores and still can't find all the ingredients to make your favorite meal. - Liisa
• Grocery shopping takes a full day. You walk to Wellcome to get fish, eggs and dairy. Then you go home to unload your rolling cart and head back out to the bakery to buy your bread, the fresh market to buy fruits and veggies, that only last a week and finally return home. Oh and..... your children flip coins to see who gets stuck shopping with mom! Grocery shopping used to be so much fun! - Karen
• Other shoppers at Costco constantly peep into your shopping cart. You threaten to run over the lady who has stopped in front of you and leaned over to get a better look at what you bought. - Gwen and Janell
• You walk 20 mins from the grocery store with heavy bags, but when you get home, the guard insists on carrying them on the elevator and putting them in the kitchen for you. Where is he when I'm struggling down the road with them? - Elspeth
• You ask your driver to take your Costco purchases home where your amah is there ready to put it away... meanwhile you head off shopping with your friend! - Mary (Mary has truly embraced the Tai Tai life, I'd say!)
• You go to the wet market and see all those weird meat cuts hanging on hooks, and it actually starts to look good to you! - maybe that is when you have been in Taiwan too long... - Janell
• Your week runs the following way....Monday PTA meeting, Tuesday hike the mountain and Costco, Wednesday Coffee morning, lunch at ACC after choir practice, Thursday Ladies Tennis League, Friday - date night, Saturday - TYPA, Sunday - church and dinner at Chili's. - Liisa
• You have been here less than two years and have probably been to Chili's well over 100 times. Sometimes twice in the same week. - Ana
• Sometimes you go to Chili's twice in the same DAY. You know of friends who bring Chili's take-out Margaritas into the movie theatre. (You know who you are.) - Cassia
• You go back to America, walk into a convenience store and do not hear "NIN HUANYING" (Welcome) in a high pitched voice, and you begin to wonder if something is wrong with Americans. - Jennifer
• You have cookie sheets that are too big for your oven, you have an ancient post-it with temperature conversions on the wall, and you debate with friends whether the oven setting with the chicken picture or the cake picture actually cooks the food more evenly. - Cassia
• You order McDonald's 24-hour delivery at 5am for pancakes and hot coffee because you are jet lagged and starving and have nothing in your apartment. You convince a taxi to take you through the McDonald's drive-thru for Happy Meals. - Ana (One of my favorite Ana-isms is, "I don't need a driver. I have 10,000 drivers in yellow cars all over Taipei." That's the Tai Tai spirit!)

Coming up next: Tai Tais in the Fast Lane - more "You know you're and expat wife when..."

A-Scouting We Will Go

We have a cub scout! Yes, Boy Scouts of America reaches all the way over to Taiwan via the Far East Council. Barret is loving it, and somehow I ended up a den leader so it's fun working on Tiger Cubs together. Things aren't quite as conventional as I imagine they would be in the US. Somehow I always thought of Scouts as more of a Dad-Son kind of thing, but with so many expat men traveling and working at odd times, it's the Mommas that seem to keep things running. And this Momma even has a badge of her own that says "Trained." I've so wanted something like that since I became a mom! Now it's official. Since I have no uniform other than a bright yellow Pack 91 t-shirt, I usually just stick it to my forehead to remind my family that I now have credentials=) Here are a few pictures of Barret and his fellow Tiger Cubs at our first big Pack meeting. We took a hike at a camp area on Yangming Mountain. I know you are thinking rustic trail through the woods and it was sort of that but with the typical Taiwan Stairmaster event of climbing huge rock steps hewn into the hillside. We also had the typical crossing of a street adventure in this country where drivers never seem to imagine that a crosswalk might have people actually crossing it. Basically, if you're on foot, you better haul it. After the short hike we returned for hotdog roasting. Here I had to laugh since 50% of the time involved trying to start a fire from damp wood, and like the minature men that they are, the cub scouts all stood around and gave advice to the leaders and older scouts who were trying to get the durn thing lighted. Cuz that's what men do.

Diving Update - Open Water Certified!

While the kids' school year started with a bang as usual, my own "Scuba School" finally wrapped up two weekends ago as I finished my open water training dives. I was so thankful to have had a gorgeous weekend to do 4 dives on the north coast of Taiwan, especially since last weekend seemed to be Worldwide Hurricane Day, with stormy monsters menacing both our homes. (Still waiting to get more information on our Houston home, but from what neighbors could see, damage seemed to be trees and fence.)

The dive sites were about an hour drive from our part of Taipei so we were suited up and in the water by about 10am both days. In an "only in Taiwan" moment, we had to swap locations for the dives because when we pulled up to one of the dive sites, a religious festival was in full swing complete with clanging cymbals, firecrackers and people dressed up like dieties. Would have been a little tough to push through the throng in a wetsuit and scuba tank. Once we got to the other dive site, though, things went smoothly. The two biggest challenges honestly were walking across the parking lot and out onto the rocky outcroppings with my 70lbs of gear--I am not the buffest of gals, as you know, so "heavy" is an understatement--and then getting from the rocks into the water. For our first dive at Pitou harbor, I was supposed to do a classic roll back into the water from a squatting postion. Unfortunately, I hit a slick patch on the rocks when I got to the edge, busted my tail and just scooted in from where I was so gracefully seated. I did manage the roll back on my second dive, though.

My memories of the first day of diving are a little hazy. It was all about kicking properly and mastering bouyancy control, learning to descend and ascend at a gentle steady rate, and practicing some of the basic skills like recovering my regulator if it got knocked out of my mouth. Day two saw us able to dive at Longdong Bay--the festival was over. The drama for me was a giant stride (i.e. free fall) into the water from a small cliff. I know it was only about a 6 foot drop but I kept thinking, What if I smack my the back of my head on my tank valve or something? It took me a few minutes to psych myself up and actually, it was kind of fun plunging into the water like that. The highlight of that day had to be finding the octopus on the coral reef. By end of the second dive I was pretty wiped out. To exit the water I had to pull myself up onto the jagged, volcanic rocks--I was so thankful for no waves that day. I heaved myself up and lay there for a few moments, then removed my mask and wiped my face, not realizing that I had silty mud all over my glove. I also learned from my instructor that I had a nice trail of blood and snot coming out of my nose. Ummm, pretty.

Here are a few pictures from the dives. I was ecstatic to meet this personal goal, and we're already planning dive trips for the remainder of our time in Asia. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me!

Top Ten Best Things about an Expat Summer in Ye Olde Country

It wouldn't be the expat life if we didn't do the annual home leave trip to the US for the summer. Once again, we who have no house to go home to joined the ranks of the expat faithful who sleep in hotel rooms, spare bedrooms, and living rooms with pull-out sofas for 4 to 8 weeks of the summer. Our lives were part summer camp, part nomadic herdsman (the herds comprised of small children and huge piles of luggage), and though it's nice to be in Taiwan again with suitcases stored and our heads on our own pillows, the summer in our home country was truly wonderful. So before I start blogging about another year in Taiwan, here are my top 10 favorite things about the expat summer:

10. Stocking up on Benedryl, Sudafed, Aleve, Advil, and Robitussin CF. Seems mundane but I get really excited about buying my annual rations of OTCs because it means I get to go to Target, order a Starbucks, and wander down all the other aisles between me and the Health and Beauty section.

9. Stocking up on cosmetics, which I forgot to do while stocking up on OTCs. Means another Target trip. Darn.

8. The Summer Eat-a-Thon (which will now be followed by the September Hit-the-Gym-a-Thon). We are Southerners, plain and simple, and so when we get together with family, we eat the best food known to man. Not only homecooked (thank you, Moms, Dads and Nana) but restuarants that are as good as homecooked. I feel a special salute is due to Mrs. Johnnie at the Kountry Kitchen in Eclectic, AL, who outdid herself not only at the Sunday Fried Chicken buffet but personally catered for us a potroast to end all potroasts. Honorable mentions must go to Jim-n-Nick's of Birmingham for BBQ and chocolate pie, Johnny G's (or just "The Pig" as we call it) of Tallassee for general southern buffet and peach cobbler with icecream, Veggies-to-Go of Auburn for southern veggies and cornbread, Milo's of Birmingham for tea that's sweet enough to induce a diabetic coma in an normally healthy person. I have to stop writing now. I'm drooling.

7. Finding ways to save money and pay off all the trips we took this year. Some might call it mooching off kind-hearted relatives. I call it good fiscal policy. In truth, we did find some other ways to save besides just living off the family. For instance, at both of our hotel stays this summer, I raided the breakfast area for everything from Otis Spunkmeyer muffins to a tiny 1-inch bottle of Tabasco sauce. I think I remembered to put the Tobasco in my quart-size "liquids-only" bag for the airplane...hmmm, where is it? I also drove around Houston with all my wet laundry spread around the rental car to dry in the free sunshine.

6. Having friends ask, "Wow, did you buy that sundress in Thailand or Bali?" Why no, no I didn't. It's from the Wal-mart Juniors Department. $12.

5. Being as RED as I want to be. And by red I mean redneck girl in the heart of Dixie. Lake Martin where we are blessed to spend a good deal of our summer vacations is far, far away from the preppy university campus in my hometown of Auburn or the shopping/dining venues of Birmingham where McLeod was raised. Lake Martin, and more specifically Kowalgia Bay, is the real deal Alabama, and I love relaxing in my worn-out lake bathing suit with my hair in a ponytail. True, it is hard to look very redneck when you pull up to a rural gas station in a champagne-colored Mazda minivan and step out in some mighty pricey Keen's surf/shore sandals. But if you wear your thread-bare, too-tight lake shorts that make your belly bulge beneath your tank top with the sparkly American flag across the chest, you can still pull it off. By the way, gas at that Eagle gas station was around 3.89 and falling so I would drive on fumes rather than fill up anywhere else.

4. Back to school shopping with my mom-in-law. We had the best shopping trips ever because Caroline now picks out her own outfits and Barret will wear anything with camoflage on it, which seems to be everywhere. Also, my mom-in-law has a motorized wheel chair which means free rides for the kids when they start getting bored. And when we're all going down the aisle at Wal-mart, me in front with my giant list, kids running serpentine-style after me, and Marie rolling along behind to keep the kids from doing any real damage, we are our own parade. We stop traffic. We love it! Thank you, Mom Marie, for joining us on some funny, memorable moments!

3. Impromtu children's church. Being the mobile family that we were didn't really lend itself to organized religion. So we had disorganized religion instead! The kids picked the songs from the VeggieTales Bob and Larry Worship CD, I read passages from the book of Acts (great for any traveling families), and we pulled together some pretty great applications. Both sets of parents got to join in on this new summer custom and add their own hearts and voices to our little services. By far the best props used to illustrate a lesson were the leftover sparklers and fireworks from the 4th of July. "This Little Light of Mine" was truly blazing!!

2. A special date night with McLeod. McLeod spent most of the summer doing his everyday job, hosting conference calls at weird hours, traveling away from us to log time at the US office, and trying to keep the emails at bay. The last week of the summer was pure vacation, though, and one night the parents kept the kids while we took the boat out to our own deserted island for a long, lovely evening. Honey, I'd follow you to Taiwan all over again. Hmmm, seems I've done that.

1. Being reminded that we have family and friends that love us and will pick up right where we left off whenever we get back to our home country. This was an especially meaningful summer because we got to see our grandmothers. The kids picked blueberries in my Nana's garden and played with toys at McLeod's Nanny's house. Life is sweet!

To our dear parents who hosted us for weeks at a time and our dear friends and siblings who made special arrangements to see us this summer, a heartfelt thanks. We have a collection of good memories to carry us through the year.

Motivation

No, that's not me diving the Blue Hole...yet. I recently got several CDs worth of pictures from our friend John Heinemann which included spectacular shots from the Guam dives. These pictures and the stories that went with them were my original motivation to get my own scuba certification. Since April, I have been working diligently toward that end. I am priviledged to be training with one of, if not the highest ranked PADI instructor in Taiwan, and let me just say, he's been putting me through my paces in the dive pool lately.


I told my mother I was facing several childhoold memories and fears at once. My old dislike of that stomach-turning-as-I-fall feeling surfaces when I must roll backward or giant stride forward into the water wearing 70 pounds of gear. My only recourse is to almost always go first before my dive buddy so I can get it over with. Also, I continue to need several minutes to adjust to the sensation of water pressing on me on all sides while I try to breath normally and not hold my breath. As a child I had a water phobia that would send me into thrashing, flailing, screaming fits of panic if anyone tried to draw me out into water above chest level. Feeling the water press against my chest would trigger a sensation of suffocation that was absoloutely terrifying. I was eight before I was able to work past this fear and join my younger brother in the deep end of the YMCA pool. It was a pivotal moment of letting go and trusting, and I find myself remembering those moments a lot.


Now, though, the main issue is not so much fear under the water as much as feeling awkward, clumsy and inept. More than anything, I hate looking foolish and can say that this dread of embarrassment, of holding up the rest of the group with my fumbling, has often kept me from persevering at learning new things. This is compounded by my old nemesis: I am, for lack of a better term, "spatially challenged." I am never 100% sure which direction is left or right and often have to look for a birthmark on my right hand to double check. Also, I will look at a mechanical object and have no idea how to make that object attach, open, or operate. I am sometimes unable to translate an instructor's directions into the motions to perform that task.


What I am saying is that while my dive buddy is diligently adjusting her buoyancy under the water, I am flailing around and floating away. When the instructor is telling me to kneel on the bottom and watch him demonstrate something, I am slowly, unstoppably falling onto my face because he's also just told me to stop flailing around and floating away. Thursday, we worked forever on getting me to hover in the mid-water, and when we surfaced, my teacher began to point out what I was doing wrong...again.... So, I did what any frustrated, emotionally-in-touch woman would do. I started to cry. Just a little. No sobbing, just a few tears and an inability to get anything out of my mouth except, "I need a moment." My poor teacher had the look all men have when a woman starts to cry. Sheer panic. He kept trying to make sure I was ok which only made me want to cry more. I just had to go take a hot shower and get a grip.


I did, of course, get a grip, and feeling a bit sheepish, resolved not to let my frustration keep me from my goal. Thursday night I got out the underwater pictures again, the pictures that had convinced me I was no longer content to paddle at the surface. They were all the motivation I needed. This lionfish is one of my favorites. Extremely dangerous but absolutely gorgeous. And underwater photography gives a second chance to be surprised since John's camera is able to restore the colors that become washed out beneath the water. What look like grays and browns are really vibrant reds and blacks, for instance. And the colors get even more shocking, with orange and neon green hues showing up on the tiny, slug-like nudibranches.


Hope you enjoy diving into these great shots as much as we have! First up are a nudibranch and a pygmy seahorse. Sometimes the tiniest creatures are the most amazing. John is able to find the details that others miss, like the seahorse camouflaged in the coral. He also photographed a clownfish hovering over its eggs. The close up shows the baby fish developing. Click to enlarge and see if you can spot what we think are their eyes. Finally, McLeod grabs a rest stop on a massive anchor and a sea turtle cruises out to open sea.

Diving Update

In the Guam post, I alluded to the fact that there would be a new diver joining the ranks of the Taipei expat scuba faithful. I am now well underway with my certification, and I recently made a trial "discovery" dive off the coast of Bali, Indonesia. As first dives go, I have to say, IT ROCKED!! On the van ride up to the dive site, the folks with me asked if I was nervous. I told them I was actually more anxious about leaving my kids back at the hotel kids' club, so I think that took my mind off the descending-30-feet-breathing-air-from-a-tank thing. Upon arrival, I got 20 minutes or so of basic instruction from the Balinese guide. Unfortunately, I could not understand a word he was saying. If you have ever watched Finding Nemo, you'll remember the scene where the young sea turtle is giving last minute instructions for exiting the East Australian Current. In a panicky voice Marlin says, "Wait, I know you are trying to tell me something but I can't understand you..." before plunging into the unknown. Yep, kind of the same feeling. In truth, I could tell from his hand motions what he was talking about regarding equalizing ears and mask, not holding my breath, etc., and I did ask him, "You are going to stay with me the whole time, right?" And with that reassurance we began our descent.

Well, sort of. The instructor and fellow-novice diver Lance began deflating their BCD's and descending. My buoyant self continued to float at the surface without sinking. Then to float with my rear end at the surface like a neoprene buoy while my head descended. Then to flip unceremoniously onto my back with my fins in the air. The instructor worked with me on buoyancy control but finally just grabbed my hand and pulled me slowly down under the water with frequent reminders to clear my ears. At one point he reached down to the gently sloping bottom and began picking up rocks to shove in my BCD to add more weight. I cracked up, then wondered if laughing under water would harm me in some way and stifled my giggles.

At last I stopped thinking about the mechanics of the descent and began to explore the reef, soft fan corals waving gently, crabs and urchins clinging to the hard coral, fish everywhere. At about 10 meters, we kneeled on the sandy bottom and simply watched the life around us. I was in the middle of a school of gray and white fish who seemed suspended like I was, simply watching the reef. I looked up through them as one might look up through falling rain drops, and I felt the strange sensation of being in a child's snow globe at a moment just after someone has shaken it but before the glitter falls down. Spectacular.

After about 30 minutes we began the gentle ascent. I had experienced a few moments of over-awareness of my surroundings--in other words, too much realization of where I was and where my air was coming from--but was pleased that I had been able to slow my breathing, relax and force myself to focus on the marine life. It seemed to take forever to reach the surface and my calf was cramping a bit from kicking the wrong way. Just as I was about to point this out to the guide, I noticed a familiar face looking smiling at me around his snorkel. I realized it was McLeod and that I was at the surface without even knowing it. I found myself laughing into my regulator again. This time I didn't stifle it or the whoop of triumph that came out when I popped above the surface.

Now back in Taipei, I am fortunate to have my buddy Cathy taking certification classes with me from a great PADI instructor located only a short walk from where I live. My hope is to complete everything including my open water dives on the north coast before I leave Taiwan for the summer. Not sure how much diving I'll be doing in central Alabama but I hear there's an old cargo plane sunken on the bottom of Lake Martin...


With the instructor and fellow-diver Lance from Boston.

Orangutans, Giant Lizards and the Royal Treatment in Kota Kinabalu

If Guam was McLeod's scuba playground, then Kota Kinabalu in Maylasia was my day spa, with just enough adventure to keep me from being permanently cemented to my lounge chair. Referred to simply as KK by the expat community, this beach town on the island of Borneo was the perfect escape from Taipei's incessant winter rains. We settled in at the Shangri-La Rasa Ria Resort for the week of Chinese New Year and found it to be a good choice for families with young children. We were enchanted by the orangutans living in the protected rainforest area next to the resort. The resort works with other conservation efforts on the island to care for orphaned or injured orangutans and then reintroduce them into the wild. The kids and I have put together a Voicethread for you on our time at this beautiful, jungle-covered island. Flip through the pictures using the arrows or play as a slideshow to hear the commentary.

McLeod's Theme Song

This is McLeod rocking it after he finished his half marathon. He set a new personal best time at 1:56:54 so he was very excited.

If the video below doesn't work use this link.

http://www.fordvehicles.com/cars/2008focus/index.asp?section=ThemeSong&mid=26512099

Happy Easter!

Up early and remembering my high school days of shivering at the 6am sunrise service. The cadence of a youth choir piece is drumming in my brain:
HE is alive.
He is ALIVE.
He IS alive.
HE is alive.
He is ALIVE.
He IS alive.
I turned 33 last week so this is probably my 29th Easter to know that truth with my innermost being. To know that because the ultimate hero willingly laid down His sinless life to rescue me from sin, He defeated not only the curse of sin but death itself. Yes, He IS alive!

So how will we celebrate today? McLeod is running a 1/2 marathon, starting in about 60 seconds, through drizzle and 20 mph winds! GO BABY GO! He told me and the kids he'd be having some special time on the road with Jesus this morning--he just hoped it wasn't going to be like the road to Damascus where Paul was knocked on his proverbial behind and blinded for 3 days by the light of the risen Lord! The kids are starting to stir in their beds and will no doubt be pouncing on Easter baskets soon. I found a note from sweet Barret last night that read, "Dear Easter Bunny. I love all the Chreets (treats)!" Then, we're off to church with our visiting friends, the Georgsons, with maybe some Chili's take out and a little egg-dying to follow. To be here in a country that allows us to celebrate the resurrection is a good thing, and I can't help but think of the home groups in other countries that will be quietly celebrating under the radar, so to speak. Can you imagine, though, how those precious voices must sound to the angels? A multitude of hearts ringing out, "HE is alive! He is ALIVE! He IS Alive!" in some shape or form? And listen: the angels are singing back!!

Happy Easter from all the Texpats!

Guam-erica the Beautiful

Oh, to see the day dawn on your own country, even if it's a tiny spot in the Pacific Ocean! Just a 3 hour flight from Taipei, Guam gave us a great taste of Americana (24-hour Kmart, Macy's, Lone Star Steakhouse, Wendy's Old Fashioned Burgers) and for the divers in our group, some fantastic underwater scenery. In fact, the divers saw so much underwater scenery on so many of our vacation days, that at least one of the non-divers decided she felt left out and has since started her own certification. I'll let you figure out who she is in future entries, assuming I...er, she goes ahead with the plan discussed with her scuba instructor. Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I'm still hoping to get some of John Heinemann's underwater shots posted but until then, here are some pictures of our other Guam pursuits.

A Birthday with Backup Dancers

Barret turned 6 while we were in Guam, so for his birthday dinner our family invited three other families to join us at Hard Rock Cafe. Since coming to Asia, we've always had one or more other families traveling the samevacation itinerary, so it makes for an instant party where ever we go. The birthday dinner was no exception. Kids and grown-ups alike jumped up on stage to dance and sing to "YMCA," and we even convinced McLeod to do his famous breakdance move, The Worm. When it was time for the cake and candles, Barret was the center of attention with the fair Alexandra, Sydney, Grace and Caroline as go-go dancers to the Beatles "Birthday." ("You say it's your birthday. It's my birthday, too.")

All I can say is, someday Barret's gonna look back at pictures and think, "I used to be so cool!" Honey, you'll always be cool to us!

Here I have to rag on our buddy Tom--he was the most enthusiastic dancer of anyone out there. See how hesitant everyone else is with which letter of YMCA they are on? Not Tom. Nope, he's larger than life with that, ummmm, J?

Breathtaking

Guam has some of the most gorgeous volcanic cliffs and blue lagoons I've seen. We were able to snorkle with ease in the sheltered waters next to our hotel. Caroline was content to float along in a small plastic sea kayak tied to McLeod's wrist so that he and I could snorkle with Barret and show him the coral reef and tropical fish. Mc and his diving buddies also did several days of boat dives including Guam's famous Blue Hole, a limestone vertical shaft that descends over 300 feet. I rode along on the boat that day and got a chance to snap photo's of the beautiful (above water) scenery, watch several pods of spinner dolphins playing around the boat, and talk with the boat captain and dive master. These guys cracked me up. They will never, ever go anywhere else but Guam--and why should they? I especially enjoyed talking to the captain who, when he's not hauling tourists around, spends time free diving to spear-fish monster grouper and playing drums for both an alternative rock band and "a badly out-of tune" country-western band (his words). McLeod's dive highlight for the week would have to be swimming with sea turtles. Trumps my dolphin encounter from last summer=)

The divers were McLeod, Kevin, Kathleen, John and Tom. And doesn't McLeod look cute in his wetsuit!!

Typhoon damage is frequent in Guam and evidently hard to clean up. We saw several boats like this one.

Santa and Seafood

A few more pictures to share from our tropical Christmas. The kids were delighted to pose with Santa--who had to have been sweating in the near-90 degree weather! Though the setting was very different than any past Christmas, we still managed to incorporate some traditions. We had a great stocking surprise--the kids each hung one of their sandy little socks on the TV cabinet and woke to find them mysteriously replaced with the real things. The kids also acted out the Christmas story in the hotel room while I read the account from the book of Luke. Abby the baby doll got to be the Baby Jesus, Caroline was Mary, and Barret was everyone else. We even had a Wise Man showed up bearing a gift...for his wife. A lovely diamond bracelet with 17 stones, which he explained was one center stone for our love, 12 stones for each year we've been married, and 4 stones for each of us in the family. Cue the "Awwwww, isn't that sweet...." I really was blown away. For Christmas luncheon and dinner, we enjoyed some great seafood buffets and being the pyromaniacs that we are, we got a thrill out of the Polynesian fire show. Barret was so captivated by the ladies in the grass skirts and coconut bras that he followed them off stage, clicking away with his camera. McLeod had to go reel him back in!