Walking Man

It's a whole different world at our house these days.

Frankenstein has moved in.

Q was 15 months old when he took his first steps, and started really walking just before he turned 16 months.  That's a looooooooooooooooong time. In toddler years it was starting to feel like an eternity. And I know that he was still well within the range of normal walking, yadda yadda every child is different... I was getting really tired of seeing people post about their 7 month olds walking on Facebook, and having people remark on how tall he is for a 10 month old. It was difficult to see him so frustrated too, because he wanted to walk desperately, but he's just a cautious boy, he doesn't do things till he's sure about them (no DNA test needed for paternity here!). But now that he's walking it's like a bubble popped and he's back to his usual joyful self.

A little less joyful when he loses his balance and face plants on the hard wood floors, but still it's an improvement.

We feel like life is starting to have a rhythm again. We're all settling into routines and though our schedule at the new school is much more frenetic than we're used to, I think there's an air of contentment in our home. And it's not that there wasn't contentment in Cairo, but it does feel like life is a little bit easier here, a lot more balanced, even if we get fewer hours to enjoy the day. We have great workout facilities at school and are both getting exercise. The opportunities for culture are wonderful, we already have tickets for La Traviata at the Bolshoi next month. And nature abounds with beautiful leaves turning golden, and parks everywhere around us.

At home things are really good as well. There aren't a lot of restaurants around us, and no food delivery, so we cook more out of necessity.

He's starting to feed himself and is very proud of the accomplishment.

Q and his nanny Valia go to a music and Montessori class each week, and she also takes him on outings in the forest behind our apartment to gather acorns and feed the ducks.

He's getting really good at animal sounds, and seems to understand Russian as well as English.

Right now they're offering a baby swim class at the school, so on Saturday mornings we get in the pool and learn to blow bubbles and get our faces wet without freaking out.

And most of all, we read.

Oh my word, this child is obsessed with books. (Not complaining at all, and again no need for DNA tests from both sides)

We spend hours reading.  He goes and picks out a "gook" as he calls them, crawls into our lap and then we read while he turns the pages. And when it's done, he chooses another and we do the same thing again, for hours.  

What's really interesting is that so many of his books are not in English.  So I make up stories about what we're seeing.

This one's in Russian, I call it The boy and his onion rings who wants to tell his scuba instructor everything is fine.  It's a working title.

This one is in Japanese and luckily it seems to just be about playing Peekaboo, so it's a little easier.

All in all, life is pretty damn fantastic.  We're working hard, exploring our new city, making friends and watching our beautiful boy develop into a remarkable person.

Life is good...

And yes, I know... winter is coming... (insert Game of Thrones music)  We will survive!  Though we'll see how many small appendages fall off.  I'm guessing the pinky toes will go first.

Altai

Things have been so busy ever since we arrived in Moscow. I feel as though I barely have the time to process each day before the next begins. Which makes it even harder to coalesce everything into some semblance of writing that others would want to read.

But I left for another trip last weekend to Turkey and am getting precariously close to missing the chance to tell about my expedition to Siberia.  So here goes... it'll be more condensed than I'd like because I can't share most of my photos since they have kids in them.

We left Moscow around 11pm and flew to a little town called Barnaul.  By the time we made it on the bus everyone crashed and slept most of the way to Altai. It was a six hour bus ride, so thankfully I was able to catch up on a little bit of missed sleep.

When we arrived, our campground was nestled in the middle of a cute little village on the banks of the Katun river.  We all had little cabins with a gorgeous view.

There was a lot of time spent around the camp, swimming in the river (or dipping in toes and screaming because the water was so cold).  And then we started the activities.  First a ropes course where I got the best shot of all time as one of my kids slipped and ended up doing the splits in mid air.  Then a ridiculously long hike through the rain and mud ending at a beautiful lake.

I'm still not sure how she got out of that.

It was a beautiful, cold, energizing, relaxing, exhausting and emotional trip. The first time I'd been away from Q for such a long stretch of time.  And quite an experience to jump into very different surroundings so soon after arriving in a very different country.

It was awesome, and I really hope I get to go back next year.

Leaving on a jet plane... to Siberia

No, really... I'm actually getting on a plane Sunday night and traveling to Siberia.

Did I mention I've only been in Russia for a month?

At first I thought it was a hazing ritual, until I heard about how much fun I'm going to be having. I am an adviser this year for a group of 8th grade students (who are so much fun and make my days awesome at school) and a part of being an adviser is going on a Discovery Week trip to Altai.

For those of you that are more geographically challenged, like me, take a look.  I've designed a map especially for you.

Moscow is in blue, Altai, the area we're traveling to is in red.  And just for shits and giggles, I've highlighted the three closest countries.  So, we're gonna be nestled in nice and tight with Kazakhstan, China and Mongolia.  Yes, Mongolia is still a country, not just a beef dish at P.F. Changs.

I'm so excited.

We'll be camping along a beautiful river in cute little cabins.

And the agenda of activities includes white water rafting, ropes courses and hiking.  Yes, please!

The temperatures can fluctuate quite a bit at this time of year, so we've been told to bring jackets, hats, gloves and our bathing suits and shorts.  Which we could wear on the same day for different types of weather.

A little sad to be leaving my men behind for an entire week though. In fact, this is the longest I'll have ever been apart from Q, and I'm trying not to think about it too much.  Luckily he's got a wonderful  daddy to take care of him, so they'll party it up in my absence. Just make sure all the loose women and beer bottles are cleaned up by the time I get home fellas!  

I lost my shoe at Kievskaya

Technically, it wasn't me that lost the shoe, but Q did.

We decided to be adventurous and have a day out in the city, no tour guides, no help from school colleagues, just us, Google Translate and a stroller.

First stop was the U.S. Embassy to check out the commissary and see if any new car ads had been posted. We haven't had luck finding anything yet, and our apartment complex is the furthest outside the city, which makes it a bit harder to do things.  Our commute to school is longer, and we don't have as many shops and restaurants close by. But on the plus side, there's an amazing forest behind our building.  We went to a duck pond with some new friends earlier in the weekend and fed the birds all of our crackers, which the boys thought was amazing!

So, we walked to the metro and traversed stairs and escalators. Q reached out for random strangers and they rushed past us and was occasionally rewarded with a smile. He also tried to share his pretzels with every person who looked at him.

When we arrived at our first stop, we were riding up this enormous escalator that was easily 100 yards long, and about 65 degrees vertical, and at the precise moment we reached the top, Ryan looked down and asked, "Where is his shoe?"

Sure enough, our beautiful boy was kicking his feet happily, sans one very brand new shoe.  We went over to the men that were in charge at the metro ticket counter and had a very strange conversation that involved a lot of me saying Spasiba (pretty much the only word of Russian I remember on a daily basis) in different tones to imply different meanings.

Something like, Spasiba (said like excuse me) point to remaining shoe, then point down the big ass escalator and shrug my shoulders Spasiba (said like pretty please sir?)

I received a very Russian shrug of the shoulders and Da in response as the man pointed me through a side entrance and back down the escalator.

It only hit me later that the one time it was appropriate to use Spasiba (thank you) was completely forgotten as I raced down the escalator.  And I really did race, not full blown boobs bouncing in my face, but I was jogging down those stair, zipping by people who were standing for the ride. I'm not really sure what my hurry was, but I think there must have been subconscious thoughts of the shoe being picked up and stolen in the few minutes it would take me to get back downstairs. I don't know, it was all very frantic.

By the time I got to the bottom and scoped the station out, I couldn't find the missing shoe, and had to ride upstairs empty handed. So, Q lost his shoe on the train from Kievskaya and we shall never see it again. On the plus side, this does give me a good excuse to go buy the kid another pair. Insert evil laugh here.

We then spent the next 45 minutes wandering around the city trying to find the U.S. Embassy.  We had a map, we had an address, Ryan had even been there once before. We stopped several people along the way who all pointed us in a very long/wrong/convoluted/circuitous route that did finally end up at the Embassy, but we're pretty sure it should have only take 15 minutes to get there.

Q did get to hang out with a statue of his "namesake" outside.

By the time we got inside I was super excited to see what the legendary Commissary had to offer.  And in truth it was pretty good.  Hint of lime tortilla chips, brown sugar, cheddar cheese, cans of chile peppers.  The place didn't have everything (Urggg, no French's mustard to be found) but it did feel good to know we can stock up on American staples when we need to.  Even if the import costs make a block of cheese $7.

I've learned in this life abroad you don't sweat the import costs, just buy the damn cheese and enjoy every last bite.

After the embassy, we walked down to Arbat street, which is this super quaint and cute walking street with fun shops, restaurants and vendors.  We had lunch at the Shake Shack, where I had the most amazing burger of my life. It had a fried portabello mushroom stuffed with cheese on top of it.  Enough said.

All in all, it was a great day.  We probably walked about 5 or 6 miles, and we were all exhausted by the time we got home. But it really felt good to get out into the city on our own, to start exploring and to get an idea of what life is like in Moscow.

So far, it's pretty damn good, just a little tiring; even for Superman.

Welcome to Russia

The time has come.  The big move happened, the big blog name change is now official.

I can now be found at A Cushman at the Kremlin.

After a whirlwind summer of travel, Alaskan cruise, family time, more family time, shopping and a few more days spent ill than I would have liked, we are in Moscow, Russia.  Our new home.

We've been here exactly twelve days and there have been some big highs and lows. Our school is awesome, but they throw you into the deep end from day one. Moscow is really beautiful, but it's freaking hot right now and they don't do air conditioner. That's how it goes right.

First of all, let me start with the fact that Moscow is so European.  It doesn't feel or look at all like I thought it would.  The closest comparison I can give to explain how it feels to me is to say that it's a lot like Langon, France where my grandmother is from.  A much bigger city and size than Langon, but the "feeling" is right on in comparison.

We were pleasantly surprised by our three bedroom spacious apartment.

It already looks a lot different than these pictures, I'll post more when our shipment comes in and we finish decorating.  Quincy has his own room and bathroom, and there's even an extra room for future Russian babies (don't worry, we're not planning on snatching them from the street).  So we're feeling very blessed in terms of housing.

In fact, the best part of where we lived was discovered yesterday when some colleagues took us on a long walk through the forest right behind our building.  It leads down to the river and about every 1/4 mile there's a new playground.  Q really enjoyed trying out the slide and swings.  I have so many pictures to take!

But here are the money shots... We went to Red Square last weekend for a new hire photo shoot in front of St. Basil's Cathedral.  It was so easy to get there on the metro and what a beautiful place to go spend the day.  Can't wait for the energy to tackle sight seeing!

The two biggest things on our list when we started looking for a new place to live, were nature and culture opportunities.

I think we're going to be in heaven.  The Bolshoi Theater is a 15 minute train ride from our apartment, so Ryan will be taking me to the ballet regularly, and we've got all the nature we could ask for out our back door.  It's really exciting and I'm feeling very grateful.

There are many more things to say, but our internet isn't that great and it took about 30 min already just to upload all these pictures.  So let me just end with a quick thought.

We're starting to settle into what life is going to be like, and realizing that sadly we're not going to be seeing Q all that much during the week.  The school schedule is pretty rigorous, they have very high expectations of our time. But our nanny has been wonderful so far and we're really happy that they seem to be doing well so far.

He's getting to be such a little person, a little boy. He's talking more and more and using sign language. It's a shock sometimes to look over and see him doing something a little kid would be doing. 

I keep waiting for that moment when I'm going to wake up and this is all a dream.  I spent the whole summer waiting for it to hit that we were moving to a new country and not headed back to Cairo in the fall. It still hasn't happened. Not sure why, but it's weird how long it can take the brain to let go of things.

It's also weird how your experiences change you. I'm loving Moscow, the school, our new apartment and all the wonderful amenities we have. But I'm still filling water bottles and keeping them under the sink just in case our water goes out. We've moved on, the blog name is different, but Cairo just won't let go of us yet.  :)

Goodbye Cairo

This is the last of my goodbyes.

Tomorrow we fly out of Cairo for probably the last time in our lives. We can see ourselves returning to the Red Sea in the future, but our time in Cairo has come to an end.

I have really mixed feelings about it all. On the one hand I'm so happy and can't wait to board that plane without looking back. Cairo is a tiring, dirty, overstimulating, difficult place to live, and it feels like each year here has worn away at my positivity. But at the same time, Cairo is so vibrant, interesting, exotic and memorable. How could I possibly leave and not miss it?

When Ryan and I made the decision to move to Egypt in 2010, it was exciting, so exhilarating. I'd always pictured myself living abroad at some point. And when people joked that we'd finish our two year contract and come back to "real life", we laughed with them, but when we looked at each other we knew. This wasn't just going to be a two year adventure before returning to normal life. And while we didn't know what would come next, we both wanted more.

I'm still a little surprised that we stayed for four years. We pretty much chose the worst possible time to move here. The revolutions (yes, plural), the evacuation, the curfews, police blockades. In the time we have lived here there have been three different presidents, two of which were ousted during bloody revolutions and then put on trial. It's been a difficult task to understand the politics, religious beliefs and societal pressures that have led to everything that's been happening. We've been pressed into an expat bubble, hoping the things around us don't get too bad.

But even in the midst of chaos there are so many special moments that stand out to me. Almost as though Cairo is raising her hand to grab our attention and say "Hey, it's not so bad, look at this!"

Like the neighbors in our area. One man came over to our car the morning of particularly bad demonstrations and begged us not to go to certain parts of the city so that we would be safe. He made us promise we would not put ourselves in danger. And the grandfather who frequently walks his little grandson over to see us when we get home from school, because the little boy wants to give Q a flower from his garden.

There's all the times in restaurants and shops where people come over and scoop Q out of our arms and whisk him away to talk to their families or other strangers. This is the only place in the world we've always felt completely comfortable with a stranger taking our baby, because the Egyptian people have a love for children that is beautiful to behold.

The fact that anytime you see someone's car broken down on the side of the road there's always at least two other cars parked to help them out.

How it's impolite to turn down tea when it's offered. Even if it's in a little tourist shop where you were just buying a souvenir. The owner genuinely wants to bring you a drink, talk about your family and show you pictures of his children on Facebook.

The way everyone says "Obama!" with a huge smile on their face when they ask where we're from and we say "America".

How every time we throw in a word of Arabic, people say "You speak Arabic?" and give us a huge smile, even if we answer that we only know a little.

This place has been a huge blessing for my family. And I've learned so much about the world, the Muslim religion, Arab culture. My eyes have been broadened, which is probably the greatest gift I will take from living here.

It hasn't always been easy, and I haven't always loved it. But Cairo has been my home for four years. It's left an indelible mark on my soul. I will remember it all, even if it's only in snippets of memory that flash me back to blaring music in the back of a cab, or the sweet smoke of a shisha bar, the sounds of Arabic being yelled across the room, and the eerie keening of a voice calling out prayers in the middle of the night.

I keep being told that I won't appreciate how much I'll miss it until I leave. And right now my emotions won't let me decide whether I'm happy or sad. So here goes, time to take the plunge and get on that plane. Thanks for the memories Cairo, the thrills and the scares. It's been an epic ride and we'll be telling your stories for years to come.