repost: not a story for the faint-hearted

~originally posted 9/28/2009~

i thought i knew what to expect for getting my kids all set up to attend pre-school here. i knew lucas would need a bookbag for his clothes, diapers, and naptime blanket. i figured rachel might need some pencils and general school supplies (she's actually going to have some school books). i knew there would be paperwork to fill out with our contact information (and i still don't have our home number memorized). i thought it would be a good idea to teach rachel the words for "teacher" and "potty" in our new language. and i'd probably have to dig through our important papers folder for their shot records.

well, i was right on, all except for that last one. no shot record necessary. these people wanted something much more... tangible.

they wanted my children's poop. well, they didn't want it. they wanted it taken to the doctor to have a test run on it to check for some kind of bacteria. the kids are due to start on thursday, so time was running out. i had to get that poop.

last night was the big event. since lucas is in diapers, his was easy. not pleasant, but easy. i wrapped his in a paper towel labeled with his name, put that in a ziplock bag, put that in another ziplock bag, and put it in the fridge. miraculously, at about the same time, rachel had to potty. it took a lot of convincing for her to not flush the potty. she has a habit of forgetting to flush, so i've been on her about it. she was one confused kid.

i won't go into detail. the poop was extracted from the toilet. it was quickly placed in a labeled paper towel, in a bag, in a bag, in the fridge. i was this close to taking pictures. then i actually thought about it.

the new contents in my fridge would only be "good" (let that sink in for a minute) for 24 hours. so after lunch today, i took out the double-bagged ziplock bags... put them both in another ziplock bag,* and put them in my vera bradley purse. i was going to do this on my own. (with the language barrier and all, i don't do many things on my own anymore).

(i was kind of half-hoping someone would mug me, just so they could see what was in my purse.)

i boarded the mini-bus, bound for the doctor's office. i've never been to the doctor here. it's a world full of words i'm not familiar with. i knew how to say "my children are starting school and i want the gaita test." i walked in, said it, was understood, but then the lady started talking back and i was instantly lost.

i then got the privilege of taking my special delivery package (now in 3 ziplock bags in case you lost count) back to the lab myself. i then got to say my sentence again. the lady told me i needed a paper from the front.

i went back to the front. i hadn't rehearsed this sentence. so i just said "paper?" the lady totally got me, and then spoke some more. after way too long, i realized she needed my kids' names, birthdays, and she was also trying to tell me the cost. i did eventually figure all this out... just not too gracefully.

i then re-delivered my package containing the academic dreams of my children with the proper paper. the lady said, "bir saat." one hour. can do.

i meandered around a couple city blocks, found a cute and cheap winter shirt for rachel, and came back. i had absolutely no idea how to ask if the test was done. and the lady at the desk was not the same lady. i waited in the bunch of people (there are no lines here) and said what i thought would pass for "is the gaita test finished?" i got the blankest stare i've ever gotten, and then heard the words that i say about 62 times a day come out of the lady's mouth, "i don't understand." i tried several different combinations. "gaita test, now, here, finished?" [nothing] "finish? to finish? finished?" [nope] then another lady next to me asked in very broken english what i wanted. i almost kissed her on the mouth. i really had to hold myself back. turns out, i could have just gone back to the lab instead of having 13 people push in front of me and letting them all hear my language skills.

anyway, i now have the papers i need to turn in to the school regarding my children's poop. unfortunately, i can't read the papers. so they may be saying, "these children are toxic and must be quarantined in siberia." but that will be another story for another day.

*ziplock bags are like gold here. i actually wash, rinse, and re-use them.

different people speak different languages

did you know that? apparently there are between 6000 and 7000 different languages in the world today. holy canoly.

i was supposed to introduce this concept to my daughter as we enjoyed the story of the tower of babel together. the lesson encouraged us to build our own tower and talk about different languages and how difficult it would have been to try to work with people you can't understand.

personally, i found this lesson hilarious, since we happen to live in a non-english speaking country where we spend a good deal of our time not understanding people, and we know first hand the frustrations those people would have been facing (and we get why they ended up quitting and moving away from each other).

so instead of talking about how dora speaks spanish and if we can remember any of the words she teaches us, we just spoke in a different language to each other. rachel doesn't usually do this with me (i mean, there's really no need), but whenever she does it's an extremely humbling experience for me. rachel learned more of this language in 9 months of pre-school than i probably will over the course of 5 years. she even corrects me sometimes. needless to say, if there's one thing my little family understands well, it's the concept of a language barrier.

and now some pictures of us playing our newly invented game we dubbed "the wade family pyramid." it's kind of like jenga and the tower of babel had a baby that happened to be a game. enjoy!

from my journal, august 9 (slightly edited)

we were give the honor of being invited for dinner in a [local] home tonight, with incredibly sweet new friends. we had spent all afternoon [with other friends] and, thanks to my indescribable introvertedness, my attitude about struggling through [this language] all night with perfect strangers and my even stranger children was a little less than joyful... to say the least.

we met [our friend] at the big square where our kids always feed the pigeons and prepared for a minibus ride up a mountain (enter: unforseen stress on top of bad attitude ~ public transportation). my prejudice against public transportation aside, it was a nice ride. i got to sit and do nothing but hold my sleeping 3 (almost 4!) year old and gaze at the beauty of this city. i knew my current outlook on the evening needed to be renewed, so i drank in that beauty for all it was worth.

[our friend's wife] was delightful. she practically fainted at the sight of our blonde children (i'm really not exaggerating), grabbed me to lay on the cheek kisses, then laid on hugs on top of that, all before even asking my name.

our children charmed them through their sneaky, silly, sinful, blonde ways. their authentic food charmed us ~ tomato soup (but like none i had ever tasted), cucumber yogurt, rice, eggplant wrapped in some kind of leaves, and too many deserts (i say too many b/c i was stuffed to the point of impending sickness)...

1 broken necklace, 57 slammed doors, 2 jumped-on couches, 1 jumped-on bed, 1 knocked-over folding table, 36 almost-broken dishes, 1 forcefully thrown remote, 1 scrubby-brush thrown off the balcony, 324 temper tantrum meltdowns, and 2 unbelievably embarrassed parents later, they still seemed charmed by our possessed offspring and gave them each a stuffed animal just because (which complimented nicely the discipline that was applied when we got home).

4 hours later, we were back on the minibus, and i could again enjoy the beauty of our city that was now all lit up and "sparkly" (as rachel calls it). i also realized that even though the father of lies seemed to be manipulating my children the whole evening, it was still fun to be in their home and laugh and have my taste buds pampered and make new friends. i hope we see them again soon.

on the ride home, there was upbeat [local] music blasting. i admired my daughter's hair blowing in the breeze as her head was stuck out the window gazing longingly at the stray dogs in the dumpsters. i had one of those "i love it here" moments, and at the same time i couldn't believe where we are and where our children live and will grow up. what amazing little lives we all have.

not a story for the faint-hearted

i thought i knew what to expect for getting my kids all set up to attend pre-school here. i knew lucas would need a bookbag for his clothes, diapers, and naptime blanket. i figured rachel might need some pencils and general school supplies (she's actually going to have some school books). i knew there would be paperwork to fill out with our contact information (and i still don't have our home number memorized). i thought it would be a good idea to teach rachel the words for "teacher" and "potty" in our new language. and i'd probably have to dig through our important papers folder for their shot records.

well, i was right on, all except for that last one. no shot record necessary. these people wanted something much more... tangible.

they wanted my children's poop. well, they didn't want it. they wanted it taken to the doctor to have a test run on it to check for some kind of bacteria. the kids are due to start on thursday, so time was running out. i had to get that poop.

last night was the big event. since lucas is in diapers, his was easy. not pleasant, but easy. i wrapped his in a paper towel labeled with his name, put that in a ziplock bag, put that in another ziplock bag, and put it in the fridge. miraculously, at about the same time, rachel had to potty. it took a lot of convincing for her to not flush the potty. she has a habit of forgetting to flush, so i've been on her about it. she was one confused kid.

i won't go into detail. the poop was extracted from the toilet. it was quickly placed in a labeled paper towel, in a bag, in a bag, in the fridge. i was this close to taking pictures. then i actually thought about it.

the new contents in my fridge would only be "good" (let that sink in for a minute) for 24 hours. so after lunch today, i took out the double-bagged ziplock bags... put them both in another ziplock bag,* and put them in my vera bradley purse. i was going to do this on my own. (with the language barrier and all, i don't do many things on my own anymore).

(i was kind of half-hoping someone would mug me, just so they could see what was in my purse.)

i boarded the mini-bus, bound for the doctor's office. i've never been to the doctor here. it's a world full of words i'm not familiar with. i knew how to say "my children are starting school and i want the gaita test." i walked in, said it, was understood, but then the lady started talking back and i was instantly lost.

i then got the privilege of taking my special delivery package (now in 3 ziplock bags in case you lost count) back to the lab myself. i then got to say my sentence again. the lady told me i needed a paper from the front.

i went back to the front. i hadn't rehearsed this sentence. so i just said "paper?" the lady totally got me, and then spoke some more. after way too long, i realized she needed my kids' names, birthdays, and she was also trying to tell me the cost. i did eventually figure all this out... just not too gracefully.

i then re-delivered my package containing the academic dreams of my children with the proper paper. the lady said, "bir saat." one hour. can do.

i meandered around a couple city blocks, found a cute and cheap winter shirt for rachel, and came back. i had absolutely no idea how to ask if the test was done. and the lady at the desk was not the same lady. i waited in the bunch of people (there are no lines here) and said what i thought would pass for "is the gaita test finished?" i got the blankest stare i've ever gotten, and then heard the words that i say about 62 times a day come out of the lady's mouth, "i don't understand." i tried several different combinations. "gaita test, now, here, finished?" [nothing] "finish? to finish? finished?" [nope] then another lady next to me asked in very broken english what i wanted. i almost kissed her on the mouth. i really had to hold myself back. turns out, i could have just gone back to the lab instead of having 13 people push in front of me and letting them all hear my language skills.

anyway, i now have the papers i need to turn in to the school regarding my children's poop. unfortunately, i can't read the papers. so they may be saying, "these children are toxic and must be quarantined in siberia." but that will be another story for another day.

*ziplock bags are like gold here. i actually wash, rinse, and re-use them.

bummer

i needed shower gel. i didn't know what the label would look like or say, which makes buying things particularly tricky. i started reading a label of a bottle that looked promising.

i understood the first sentence. could it be?

i kept reading. i kept understanding. what i had in my hand was shower gel with vitamins and protein and hydrating elements. i thought i had been given the gift of tongues b/c i definitely don't know those words in this language.

then i realized i was reading the spanish. the other language was down below. i had no idea what those words were. but it's good to know that apparently i'm fluent in spanish. who knew?