Family

Getting Ready to Move Again

I didn’t realize that it’s been 11 days since I last posted a blog entry.  During that time, I’ve been busy with a hodge podge of things to do before our departure to Paraguay.  Moving is always an arduous process, but it’s especially trying when you’re heading overseas.  Why?  Because of all the preparations involved in myriad ways not needed for a domestic move.  For example, yesterday the movers came and took everything.  Seems easy enough.  I didn’t have to do anything, right?  No, I had to schedule the move two months ago, then reconfirm one month ago and submit paperwork and a list of consumable items to ship, then purchase additional items for shipment over the course of a month, meet a mover for a pre-departure survey three weeks ago, and spend more than a day sorting things into four categories–items that will travel with us, items shipped by air, items shipped by boat, and items to be left with the apartment.  Then, on moving day, I had to disassemble some electronics and monitor the movers as they packed to make sure everything is sent correctly. 
Sounds easy enough.  OK, then move on to insurance.  Once upon a time, I could go to the doctor and give them the name of my health insurance provider and that would be that.  Nowadays, the process, complicated by overseas medical care, involves going to the doctor, getting the paperwork, filling out claim forms and submitting the claim(s) to the insurance company, get reimbursed, and then submit the remainder for an FSA pre-tax reimbursement.  It’s these kinds of logistics replicated throughout one’s life that makes constant moving–my seventh in a little more than three years–a monumental task.  One would think that moving becomes easier the more frequently you do it.  In some respects that’s true.  I now have a better sense of what to bring and what to ship.  However, logistics such as address changes never become easier.  It isn’t much fun contact 20+ companies every two or three years through a variety of means (Internet, phone, mail) to let them know you’re moving (again) and then arguing with half of them that an APO is not a post office box.  (Companies prefer physical addresses over P.O. boxes.)  I don’t mean to turn this blog entry into a gripe session, but I wanted to give you a sense as to why I’ve been offline for almost two weeks.  I may not be able to blog frequently again until mid-July when we’re safely ensconced in Paraguay.
On a sad note, my grandmother is very ill.  She suffered a stroke last Thursday and remains paralyzed on her right side.  She is receiving nourishment, but fluid is building in her lungs.  The prognosis is not good.  I’ve very sad.  I’m also conflicted because I want her to live but don’t want her to suffer, and what she’s going through right now is akin to drowning.  She’s the only grandparent I have left, and I’m very close to her.  I’m thankful that I said goodbye to her last February when I saw her in Montana.  Each time I visit her feels as if it will be the last time.  It seems that our last visit will be our last one.

Empty nest

Dear Reader, my family left for China to visit family for a few weeks.  Fortunately, they made it to China without incident.  They were in transit for about 21 hours from Washington, D.C. to Shanghai via Chicago.  Although taking a trip to China right before heading to South America isn’t ideal, it’s better than flying from Paraguay to China, a 31-hour nightmare journey via Los Angeles.  The 14-hour flight trans-Pacific flight from Chicago to Shanghai is the longest my wife and son have ever taken.  My wife said that they were tired but that they both made it none the worse for wear.  Relatives in China are happy to see them.  My son did very well considering the long flight; he rotated his time between watching children’s DVDs, reading books, sleeping, and wandering the airplane.  He loves airplanes and was happy when I told him that he would fly on the "white" airplane versus the "blue" or "grey" ones.  I asked him whether he would rather fly back to Seoul to see his friends, and he responded that no, he would rather go visit family.  That’s quite a change in attitude–my little boy is really growing up! 
 
In the meantime, I am an empty nester.  Several friends have told me to enjoy temporary "bachelorhood."  OK.  I do appreciate the peace and quiet, although it feels too quiet, and it feels strange having no one else around.  So far, I’ve been a homebody.  I ran some errands in anticipation of our trip after I dropped my family off at the airport, but I’ve stayed home for the last day and a half brushing up on my French.  (I will retake my French exam on Thursday to get my score on the books; I hope to improve my score from 1/1 to 1+/1+.)  I worked out a system where I write dialogues.  Microsoft Word automatically corrects the grammar because it recognizes French.  If I don’t know the vocabulary word, I look it up using an online dictionary and then add it to my language database.  I’ve also been looking up the same German and Portugese words and adding them as well; German, because I will retest in German at the end of the month, and Portugese, because I will study Portugese next year.  Improving my language scores to 1+/1+ in French and German and testing in Portugese next year will allow me to qualify in the future for jobs in French-, German-, and Portugese-designated assignments.
 
It’s not too exciting, I know that.  I might sneak away and catch "Pirates of the Caribbean" at the cinema later this week.

The Monster Family

Yesterday my son and I sat on the couch talking about our trip to Hershey’s Chocolate World in Hershey, Pennsylvania.  At four years old, he’s quite creative.  With a little help from his dad, who organized his thoughts, my son told this enchanting tale:
The Monster Family lives in our home.  The father is named "Mike," and the mother is named "Voogoo."  They have five monster children.  The oldest is a boy named "Vadubogadah," followed by his brother "Bo." The middle child is a girl named "Logo."  She has two younger sisters, "Tigadoo" and "Bee."  Once "Bee" ate a stinky sock, but usually she eats bath tubs and drinks balloons.  Some of the monsters eat these things, but others eat cars and drink the ceiling.  But they don’t eat the brown cars.  They don’t eat people, either, so there’s no need to be afraid of them under the bed.
 I often enjoy sitting with my son and talking to him about whatever is on his mind.  He has a very big imagination, especially when it comes to making up new languages.  I like to say that he’s fluent in Gibberish.  It seems so easy for him to make up new words or derivatives of English words that form the basis of whatever language he’s developing at the moment.  For example, last night he renamed the days of the week to "Mungu, Tugu, Wugo, Thugo, Fugo, Sago, and Sugu." He seems to like to say "gu" or "gee," and often the words he makes up begin with the initial syllables of the English word and end in "gu" or "gee."  For example, I am "dagee," (sounds a bit too much like "doggy," I think), and his mother is "magee."  Occasionally, he uses Chinese.  His name is "baogee," with "bao" referring to the Chinese word for baby.
 
It’s a fun sport, I suppose, although he speaks Gibberish at times when we’d like him to speak English or Chinese, such as when he meets someone for the first time.  I think that the fact that his parents enjoy foreign languages and that no less than bits and pieces of four languages–English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish–have been thrown about in his four years of life has influenced his propensity to embrace Gibberish.  Or maybe it’s genetic.  After all, his dear old dad started inventing imaginary languages when he was about nine years old.  Regardless, I consider it a gift rather than a nuisance, because after all, all human languages evolved through the need to communicate between two or more people.  It only takes two speakers to form a new language.  Maybe our son will be the inventor of the next great language–an Esperanto, Elven, or Klingon in waiting.