And another adventure begins

We have moved to Ireland. We are still a little bit in shock. Fortunately, everything went pretty smoothly with the trip here - the boys slept most of the flight from Nairoble to Amsterdam, there were no issues at all with immigration coming into Ireland, all our bags showed up, and there was even a humongous van waiting at the taxi stand when we got out there.

The only complications were when an older American man hassled us for going around to the front of the line to board (with our two small, wailing children, of course). I resisted the urge to tell him to stuff it. And Aer Lingus made us check one of our carry-ons, even though we were well within the limit. I tried to explain that Milo gets the exact same allowances I get - as he pays almost full price - but math was apparently not her strong suit. Anyway, I didn't mind having the load off. We keep saying this, but we are really going to have to learn to pack lighter next time.

Ireland is all a bit overwhelming still. It's hard to overcome the urge to splurge and indulge in everything. "Look - shawarma! No wait, there's sushi! And burritos! Can we have some ice cream?" I even found myself thinking about getting a McDonald's sundae today, because, you know, they don't have those in Malawi. I keep having to remind myself that we are staing here, and there will be plenty of time to eat the foods I like, buy new clothes, go to the movies.

Jorge is having the opposite reaction - he's finding everything a little overstimulating, and just wants to eat bread and cheese in the hotel room.

I know it never really takes us long to adjust, but I think we have been permanently changed by the years we spent living in Africa. It is hard for me to ever imagine a time when spending 600 dollars on a telephone will make any sense. And I think I will always crave for my children the freedom they have gotten used to. My saddest moment so far was getting down to Milo eye-to-eye and having to explain to him "We are not in Malawi anymore - you have to stay with Mommy now, you can't run around whenever you want to."

We went to several parks today, and as he always does, Milo tried to make friends with the other kids. They pretty much ignored him, the same way they did in Seattle -something I found very difficult to understand. But I saw a little spark of interest in some of the kids, as if they were wistfully considering socializing with another child, and that gave me a little hope that Milo will indeed make some friends here.

Our next big job is to find an apartment. A friend very generously offered us her apartment while she travels to Somalia for work, but the clock is ticking - we've got 3 weeks at the most to find and move into a new place. We're OK with something small, even a little dingy, but there is one thing I won't sacrifice, and that is a good shower. So it may take a while...

Milo's first snow

It's the weekend in Lilongwe and that means lots of just hanging out with friends. I'm on my own tonight, as Jorge has gone out to watch some soccer game which is apparently a Very Big Deal. Milo just called me up to his room handed me a book about the rainforest which apparently was giving him the heebie-jeebies and told me "I want it go downstairs." Now that the scary frog is taken care of, I'm hoping both boys just go to sleep and stay asleep. My little guys are growing up so fast...


But that's a post for another day. I'm continuing with the flashback posts for now.


So shortly after we arrived back in Seattle intact (but only after the immigration department decided to hold us for an hour and put the fear of God, or at least the government, back into Jorge once again) we flew down to Los Angeles to visit my grandfather who had been ill. Milo got to trick-or-treat for the first time, and boy, was he sold on that concept.


And then in no time at all it was Thanksgiving. Just before the holiday, a big snow hit Seattle.



First off, let me just say that I have not been a fan of the snow since I was 8 years old and schools got shut down for 2 weeks after a big storm. That was really the last time it was fun. Since then, I've just found snow to be cold, wet, slippery, and terribly inconvenient. My childhood home is down at the bottom of a very big hill - there's no way to get out without going uphill. So once it snows, you're stuck. And being about as big as a whale by this time, I wasn't exactly going for any 3 mile walks through the snow to get to the shops.

However, making lemonade out of these lemons, I thought it would at least be great fun for Milo. I was wrong. we took him outside, he looked around, asked to get into his stroller, then never got back out. Here he is, hiding under a blanket.

My hubby, on the other hand, loves the snow, having only experienced it a handful of times in his whole life. So he took us around on a Siberian gulag march, throwing snowballs and refusing to let us go home until he was satisfied we had thoroughly experienced the snow. Then Milo and I holed ourselves up inside the house playing Wii and trying not to go stir-crazy for the rest of the week.

So there you have it - a post about snow just in time for summer to start! But it's heading into winter here in Malawi - I may even need to throw on a cardigan occasionally. So I am thankful for the experience, for reminding me that truly belong somewhere close to the equator, and I think Milo would agree.

The party of the year

It was a big weekend around these parts. Construction crews have been working at a frantic pace for weeks to get the city ready. There were dignitaries, convoys, road closures, speeches, lengthy news coverage, and work crews everywhere trying for a bit of last-minute spiffying. Robert Mugabe (or Uncle Bob as he’s affectionately known around these parts) flew in from Zimbabwe with his wife. The former presidents of Mozambique and Zambia came too, along with Prime Ministers and dignitaries from across Southern Africa.

So what happened here this weekend you ask? Well, Milo’s birthday party of course!

Oh, and the president got married. Yeah, there was THAT.

Yes, dear old Bingu got hitched on Saturday, in a big ceremony officiated by the archbishop, with a reception (or was it two?) for some 4,000 of his closest guests (and those intrepid Malawians who were able to get a spot in the Lilongwe stadium).

The former first lady passed away several years ago, so, after waiting a respectable length of time, the president has chosen a new bride, Callista, who, while no spring chicken herself, is still a good 30 or 40 years younger than the old man.

Ah, but that wasn’t really the big event, though, was it? While the president and his entourage celebrated his recent nuptials, an even more momentous and exciting engagement was underway just a few miles away.

Yes, my little guy is TWO. And showing his age, I must say. We had a terrific party at our friend Marisol’s house on Saturday (celebrating her daughter’s 4th birthday as well), complete with two cakes, lots of food, a bouncy castle, two kiddie pools, goodie bags, and the most awesome home-made robot piñata you have ever seen, whipped together in 15 minutes by my dear husband (who failed to leave an opening through which we could tie the thing to a tree. It was OK, though, all it needed was a little robot brain surgery). Basically, it was heaven for toddlers. Milo had a great time, and he and his friends are still singing “Happy Birthday dear Milo!” all this week.

So I think I made the right choice in terms of social activities this week. I bet Bingu didn’t have a bubble machine at his party. Or the cutest, sweetest little two-year old you ever did see.

Somebody call America's Next Top Model

I've got their next big winner right here:

Sorry for the hit and run, there are actual many weird and not-so-wonderful things afoot here in Malawi, but until next Monday, I will have both by feet firmly planted in proposal-writing land, not blogger world.

And also, what's up with the spam lately? I get all excited that I have comments, and it ends up being people trying to sell me weight-loss pills. Grrr. So I have to come on and pander for comments with photos of my amazing little boy (who will be 2 in THREE WEEKS!)

Just popping on to say hello before I leave for dinner tonight. This has been another typically full week at the house. On Monday we went to a terrific Hash walk through the Lilongwe Wildlife Sanctuary. Milo was enraptured by the huge hyena pacing back and forth behind the fence, taunting it by yelling "doggie! doggie!" The hyena did not seem amused. We also got a close-up view of Bella, the stunted and half-blind lion, rescued from an Armenian circus.

Yesterday my wonderful husband took me on a death march around our neighborhood for an hour and a half. That's what I get for enlisting him in trying to help me get out and moving. Then it was off to choir practice.

Tonight it's off to dinner for a friend's birthday, tomorrow we are hosting a going-away party for our dear friend Lillian, Friday we have tickets for a St. Patrick's Day concert of traditional Irish music, then Saturday we are planning to head off for a lake weekend. Whew!

But by far the most exciting thing about this week is that one of our favorite people, Cassandra, arrives tomorrow for a 10-day visit! HOORAY! I can't wait for the girl talk to start...

Milo is getting so verbal lately. When Jorge picked me up from work Milo just yelled "Hello mama!" Like a real person! He also tried to pee in his potty today, that was pretty exciting. He missed of course. Then 30 minutes crawled into my lap so he could pee all over my legs. Sigh.

Well, that's the news from Lilongwe.

Yup, he's a butt man.

So I haven't given a Milo update in a while, I guess. My little guy has been growing up so fast. He's communicating so much more now, and says a lot of words in both Spanish and English. He's very definite in his wants, and pretty adamant about getting them across to us, but he still doesn't say a whole lot, so it can be frustrating for all of us.

He's a pro at pointing out body parts, though, in two languages:

"Milo, where are your eyes?"



"Where is your head?"



"Donde estan las orejas?"


Physically, he's also developing fast. He can jump, is great at puzzles, can go up and down the stairs unassisted, and has a pretty awesome throwing arm already. If only Lilongwe had a t-ball league. Also, he can climb out of his crib in about 3 seconds flat now, so every morning, I go into his room to find this sight:



Yes, he's quite good at opening drawers, too.

Like most toddlers, he's into imitation, but it's more often than not the housekeeper and his nanny that Milo likes to copy. One of his favorite activities is playing "laundry". Like the pile of clothes above, he'll stack and unstack his clothes over and over again. It can keep him occupied for ages. He also likes to "hang" the laundry on his own pretend clothesline, the mosquito net frame:



For some reason, he's deeply fascinated with those purple undies. Today we found him wearing them:



Reassuringly, though, he is showing plenty of alpha male traits, too. I recently ordered a swimsuit, and it came with a catalog. Without fail, Milo always opens this catalogue to a close-up shot of a woman's rear end in a thong bikini bottom. Then he says over and over, "Mama - booby! Booby!"

You can sleep soundly at night now

Because Super-Milo is here to save the day!

Look out, bad guys!

Smelling the chives, with his super-senses.
Taking a cookie break. Saving the world makes you hungry!

This one just makes me smile. Milo always fusses when we leave him at daycare. All the big kids came over to sing his little song (they sing "Baby Milo" to the tune of Frere Jacques) and cheer him up. The daycare owner told me yesterday that Milo is sort of considered the school mascot. :-)

And in case you were following our travel drama - good news! Jorge got his visa yesterday, a full week before they told him it would be ready! Those wacky Germans, they just love to keep you guessing!

So tomorrow night I leave for Scotland. Jorge and Milo will join me on Tuesday, then next Friday we fly to Lisbon. After that, we have NO IDEA what we are going to do. Anyone who has been to Portugal have suggestions for what we should do for the the week after we leave Lisbon?

Artistic tendencies

So, time for a weekend update. This last one just flew by. I got to work on Monday feeling like I never had a break at all.

It was a full weekend. On Saturday we went to a friend's beautiful home for breakfast, where Milo splashed in the pool and chased chickens. In the afternoon we drove out to the village to visit our housekeeper Godfrey and his family. Milo is a total celebrity in the village. He just smiles and waves to the crowds of adoring women and children, while they fight over who gets to hold him next. I think it's beginning to go to his head, really.

Our babysitter came back with us, and Jorge and I went out on a much-needed date alone. We went to the one Ethiopian restaurant in town, my favorite, and then after that went to the newly opened "jazz club" for a musical performance by a world music duo from France. It was a really lovely night out, and I looked forward to more nice dates with live music, until I found out that the "jazz club's" owner is only going to have live music once every 2 months (to keep the excitement and interest up, you know.) This led me to speculate that I should call my house a restaurant and start charging people. After all, I cook dinner for others at least once every two months. Seriously, only in Lilongwe. Also, did I mention that pretty much EVERYone I know was also at the concert? Not much new happens here in Malawi, that's all I have to say.

Then on Sunday we went to church, and decided to stick around for the picnic afterwards, even though this meant Milo would have a late nap. Whoa, big mistake. Milo got home, slept for thirty minutes, then wanted to party. We left him in his room a bit, hoping he'd go back to sleep. Instead, he took off his diaper, took a crap on the bed, and proceeded to fingerpaint.

(Just an aside here - when I was pregnant, I said once that it is really never OK to talk about your kid's bowel movements in regular conversation. Seriously, no one wants to know how many times your kid poops (or doesn't poop) in a day. But I am making an exception in this case, as the circumstances are rather extreme. I promise, I will try not to let it happen again.)

Needless to say, it was kind of a mess. I spent my Sunday afternoon cleaning the crib, the sheets, the stuffed animals, the boy, the floor, the mosquito netting...Ah, the joys of motherhood.

And also, Milo now has a new nickname in our house: Poopy Pollock.

Another picture post

Because, seriously, is there anything cuter than a naked baby in a bucket?

Something to keep the grand-folks happy

Alright, so after my Debbie Downer post last week, let's have something happy. How about pictures of my adorable offspring?

Oy, those dimples. They kill me.

After Jorge doused him under the garden tap

At a friend's birthday party last weekend

Then he got car-jacked by the birthday boy. I had to put this in to show off the super-cute baby tux and that gorgeous hair.

Finger-painting! Awesome, mom!

OK, now that you're smiling, go call your lawmaker, and tell them you are serious about health care reform!!

Milo's first haircut

Milo was born a bit of a baldy. Well, actually, he was born with hair, then two weeks later most of it fell out, leaving just a Michael Bolton-esque fringe around his neck.

This was disturbing to his Colombian family - where is his hair? why doesn't it grow in? what is wrong with this boy? After all, your typical Colombian child bounces out of the womb, cushioned by a glorious afro of thick black hair.

No, Milo got my hair. Thin, light-colored, and nary a kink or a curl. We put off cutting his hair for such a long time, because it seemed sort of pointless to go to the trouble just to remove a few errant wisps from around his ears.

While we were in New Orleans, we thought it would be fun to go someplace nice and have it cut. So Jorge went to Aidan Gill, an upscale men's barber, to ask if they cut children's hair.

Yes, indeed, they do. In fact, they have a special 'first haircut' package for babies. Jorge asked how much it cost. And then stood there, dumbfounded for a few minutes, jaw literally dropping: $500 dollars. Yes, you read that right. 5 big'uns. Or maybe it was even more than that, I can't fully remember. The haircut comes with a framed print by a professional photographer. They had samples of the photos, some 30 of them, in the salon. Jorge couldn't speak for a while because he was too busy counting the pictures and trying to figure out what kind of sucker would spend that much for a picture of a child being groomed.

That was before Milo went to Colombia. By the time he got back, he was getting a bit of a mullet. I suspect Dora, my mother-in-law, was putting the same nasty herbal tonic on his head that she tried to get me to use after my hair fell out from chemo. Jorge did say that Milo smelled kind of funny. So we finally took him to get his hair cut on Saturday, at the same barber shop Jorge goes to. Milo was very well-behaved, I got some photos, and the whole thing set us back 300 Kwacha - about 2 dollars.

Before the haircut. Milo liked getting sprayed with water.

Although Milo was very good overall, he wanted to look around. The barber resorted to this vise grip to get him to hold still. I love Africa!

And here's the finished product! Isn't my boy handsome?

News in small, digestible chunks

Here are today's tidbits:

• I'm sick
• I'm working way too much
• I might get to go to Scotland for work in a couple months!
• I feel guilty for being away from my family so much of the time
• In the past week, we hosted the Saturday run (and breakfast), hosted the weekly Hash, and tonight I'm cooking dinner for 6 co-workers. Sunday is Gumbo night for friends. We do too much.
• I lost my cell phone
• I can't remember my own husband's phone number to call and ask for a ride
• Milo is on a food strike
• But he knows his feet, gives plenty of kisses, and enjoys dancing to reggaeton.
• I haven't photographed my son in almost 6 weeks. But for Auntie Miriam, here is a picture from when we were in New Orleans:

For those of you who are wondering, here is the account of how I finally resolved my money dilemma, taken from an e-mail to my dad:

I did end up managing, but it was a hellish day. First, I made an hour-long
walk to the other ATM I knew of. It also would not take my card. So I called
Jorge (who hadn't been home before) to get my account number and I went into the
branch to try to do a withdrawal. But they wouldn't allow me to withdraw from
a checking account without an actual check.

The teller directed me to another nearby branch. I walked there. The branch was closed. I walked further toward another bank. Each Malawian I asked told me "no, it's not far." but Malawians are not very good at giving directions, so I got lost. Finally I called a taxi, which I couldn't pay for, but I was being hopeful. He drove me to ANOTHER bank, one with the other banks had told me would take my card. They were wrong. Finally, I threw myself on the mercy of their customer service rep, who took pity on me and allowed me to make a withdrawal from my checking account. I mean, really, couldn't they have done that in the first place?

All in all, I walked for 3 hours. My poor feet.

One big family again

Jorge and Milo got in yesterday. Hooray! Milo is getting so big and grown up, it was all I could do to keep from crying in the airport.

And good news: Milo still loves me. In fact, if I try to go anywhere away from him, he runs over and clings to my leg, apparently afraid I’m going to leave for another month. He is still the happiest, most smiley baby on the block, too. I’ll be walking around with him perched on my hip, and I’ll look down to see the little imp just grinning up at me. He cracks me up, that boy.

Jorge managed the flight alright as well. Milo was apparently very good, and did not cry or scream at all, and even slept pretty well. Jorge got in trouble with the flight attendants a few times for leaving Milo sitting on the floor of the airplane, but other than that, smooth sailing. (Our bags even showed up this time! We’re two for two in the last month!)

The poor bug, though – I can’t take pictures of him for a good while. Jorge was playing with him a few days ago and Milo bit it and fell down the porch stairs (“You mean you let him fall?!!” I said), taking a little bit off the end of his nose. It’s all scabby and red now. He’s still pretty, though, don’t worry.

I spent all last week out in the field, which accounts for the quietness on the blog. Power outages, cold showers, greasy French fries for breakfast…Ah, I love the rustic life. This is why, when I travel with my own money, I go for the luxury resorts.

Look out ladies

Milo, aka Lil' Romeo, has been unleashed on the female population of New Orleans.

First there was this:

(This is Milo kissing his second cousin Juliana ("Colombian-style," says Jorge. Keeping it in the family, you know.))

Then today we took Milo to a concert downtown. As usual, he had fun pushing his stroller around, flirting with the ladies, and shaking his little booty to the music. Then he met a little girl a couple months younger than her. He showed a lot of interest, but that is typical - Milo loves other kids, and he tends to show his affection gregariously and physically. This normally makes the other kid get scared and cry.

But Milo really liked this particular girl. After the usual shoulder nudges and head pats, he started walking behind her, and I swear, I am not making this up - he stretched out his little arms and felt up her butt. Then he went in for a hug. The girl started to wise up and tried to hide behind her mother's legs, but Milo was too quick for her. He followed right after her, and then planted a big old open-mouthed kiss right on her mouth!

Kind of embarassing for me, actually. I mean, I didn't think I would have to make the "I'm sorry my son molested your daughter" apology for many more years. I guess I better start practicing that speech. Or locking the dang kid up, one or the other.

My happy boy

So Milo has been walking for some time now. I just never got around to mentioning it. Or taking photos, or video. You see, I am raising my child the way I, the third daughter, was raised. That way once I have another that kid won't feel less loved when he grows up only to look at an empty baby book and a photo album with only pictures from Christmas, Easter, and (sometimes) birthdays. That's right, neglect them all right from the start, that's my approach.

Anyway, I finally snapped a pic of Milo walking. Look how happy he is!

And here's Milo falling down. Mwahaha.

Happy Birthday, Milo!

I've only got a few minutes in between putting Milo down for a nap, picking up our picnic lunch, and collecting his birthday cake to hop on and post an entry.

We're having a nice time in South Africa. Right now we're in Franschhoek, culinary capital of the country, and I've picked up a stomach bug, naturally. Yesterday I couldn't eat anything. Today I've managed a couple sips of wine and a good breakfast. Jorge, always the supportive (and not at all melodramatic) husband, keeps saying "I can't believe you ruined the vacation."

Jorge did well in the race on Saturday - he had some leg cramps, so he wasn't as fast as he'd hoped, but he came in only about 20-30 minutes behind target. I had my video camera all set to record him crossing the finish line, and kept checking it every 30 seconds or so to make sure it didn't turn off automatically. Right after checkign it the last time I heard the announcer say, "And here we have our only runner from COLOMBIA!" I whipped up the camera, hit record...and it was turned off. $&%#!!! So there will be no footage on YouTube, I'm sorry to say. You'll just have to trust me tha he looked great.

Today we're celebrating little Milo's big milestone. One whole year already...! Yes, it's cliche and everyone says it, but it's true: I can't believe how fast he's growing up!

The Secret About Milo

Milo is a pretty popular kid here. We don't have many friends with children in Malawi, even though there's a very big "family" community. We've just clung to our old single and childless friends, and they put up with us.

It helps that Milo is an easy kid, though. I'm betting most of our young, hip friends would have dropped us a long time ago if he wasn't such an extroverted little flirt. My friends all say what a happy baby Milo is, how they never hear him cry, how he's smiling all the time.

Well, his secret is out now. I have photographic evidence. Sure, when he knows you're looking, Milo is all smiles. Look at him, so coy, flashing his dimples:

But when you turn around, and he thinks you can't see him, he becomes....

EVIL BABY!!!!

Mwahahahaha.....

Coolest pet ever

I'm not big on pets - I like cats, and I understand why people own dogs (although I hate the creatures, myself), but I don't really get why people would own any other sort of pet. Birds shouldn't be in cages. Snakes and spiders are creepy. Rabbits never seem to stop being petrified of their owners. Fish don't do much, and small rodents are, well, kinda stupid.

But I am relenting on lizards. Lizards are cool. Especially if they live in your front yard and you don't have to find insects to feed them or anything.

Meet our new pet chameleon, Senor Camacho:

Jorge found this little guy in the road during one of his runs. Chameleons are incredibly slow walkers, and they disguise themselves to match the tarmac...you can guess what usually happens next. Jorge rescued Senor Camacho and brought him home to our house. He now lives in the tree in our front yard.

Milo's a big fan!

It’s been a busy week. Last week we went to three going-away parties, a birthday party, and a wine-and-cheese reception. I also went back to yoga for the first time in months, and went to meditation practice. Jorge and I went to the weekly softball game and hung out with the kids playing duck-duck-goose. It was a nice week.

Yesterday we went back to the Hash after a long absence, the running group we’ve been going to since we first arrived. Milo weighs 22 pounds now, so he’s a bit heavy for me to lug around in a sling or front-carrier. A friend (who recently had triplets!) loaned us a baby backpack, and Milo loooooved it. He giggled and cooed through the whole walk, charming everyone.

So many of our friends are leaving, and it’s very sad. On Saturday I spent the morning at my friend Christine’s house, on her last day. Today I am going to lunch with my friend Ann at the Sanctuary, a new, beautiful restaurant in Lilongwe. Tomorrow Ann flies to Uganda for a new position. (She is the one who has been teaching me to meditate, by the way. Very important skill for a new mother.)

One of the nicest things about living overseas is how quickly you develop meaningful friendships. I lived in New Orleans for almost 6 years, and had very few friends to show for it (it didn’t help that I met Jorge just two months after I arrived, and was quickly co-opted into his life, rather than establishing myself on my own.)

It seems so difficult to make friends in America – everyone already seems to have their social circle, and they don’t tend to have vacancies. Whereas in Africa, there’s a new lonely expat arriving all the time, just waiting to be befriended. And even better – they tend to have the same interests as me. People who can discuss Khadafi, cholera, and community development…and then turn around and talk books or travel or movies. Just the idea of ever moving back to the U.S. makes me lonely.

Today is a holiday in Malawi - Martyr's Day. Jorge and I ditched Milo with the babysitter and are at my office making use of the internet.

Milo was pretty sick last week, with a fever and bad cough. I had to go out of town for a night for work, so I felt very guilty about leaving him, but his papa is pretty capable. He's doing much better now. Look, he's even happy about being stuck in a laundry basket while we do chores!

Oh, which brings me to something that annoyed me recently. I have this silly book about babies, written by Dr. Sears, who is the famous physician and advocate for "attachment parenting." Anyway, Jorge and I both flipped through the book and were stunned by the sexism. I mean, I know it's not common for the father to be the primary caregiver, but it does happen. The entire book seemed to be based on the assumption that the mother would be the one who really "knows" the child, and that the father would be at work all day, and just popping in every now and again to toss a ball around with the kid. Have we really not come farther than that?

In Milo news, he got his 7th tooth yesterday. That kid is just dying to eat some ribs, I can tell! Jorge claimed that he also took his first steps yesterday, but I am doubtful. After all, it's Jorge's word alone, you know what I mean?

And last week we had our 3rd annual Mardi Gras party. Our parties keep getting smaller, because we're not making friends fast enough to replace the ones that are leaving for new jobs. But here are a few pictures from a very fun night:

Finally, the rest of the news is:

My contract is being extended to the end of May. So we have an end date in sight, and are having to get used to the idea of leaving Malawi.

We've got tickets to Cape town for Easter! Jorge is running the Two Oceans race with a group of friends. It should be a terrific week.