Selfish me and giving thanks

I read my last post and I can't help but feel selfish. At least I have the opportunity to leave. Many don't. This always happens, I feel negative and the next split second, I feel guilty. Because I know that I can leave and have something to look forward to. I can always go back to the States, get a good job, and have never been for want of food. 

Some people can't leave their situation and don't even know where to start to improve it. And I'm not even doing anything yet to help. Even if you can't help the country, you can help a few people. I will find a way, but it's a struggle. I can give you all of the excuses (baby keeps me busy blah blah blah), but I must find something to put my heart and soul into. For the sake of my son. He'll be happier if I'm happier, and I want him to learn that we should always, always look out for others. And give thanks for all that we have, every day, not just on Thanksgiving. 

Calgon take me away...nope, not gonna cut it. I need a plane.

Busy busy...that's what the Guyanese say when a toddler is running around and getting into everything.

"He's so busy."

I like it. It's quite accurate. Aidan is busy learning and making new associations on a daily basis. I'll get to that in another post...right now I need to be negative.

I've been busy too...amazing given that there is NOTHING to do here. I realize that I haven't posted since election night. What has happened to the time?

So I have a lot to say...and I must warn you, this is a busy post. I'm going to skip around all sorts of issues...and I just don't care, because it's My Blog. My Rant.

First off, I'm jealous of my husband. Right after the election, Richard left town for a week as the local coordinator for a US Navy medical mission in the town of Santa Rosa. Here's a link to a story. You can see his backside in the second photo (the guy with the yellow shirt and hat): 

http://www.stabroeknews.com/news/north-west-residents-grateful-for-us-medical/

Great opportunity for him to do something different and to get out of Georgetown. The guesthouse he stayed in was a bit dismal, but he was doing something to help others and he got out of Georgetown!!

I need that opportunity! Some expats told us when we first arrived that you need to leave Georgetown every 3 months to feel sane. I said, "no way"....I mean, we were in the Peace Corps, what can be so bad?

Well, my limit isn't 3 months: it's 5 months. There is just nothing to do here so you feel trapped. And when I say nothing to do, I mean you don't even really have a place to wander and window shop, no restaurants to really look forward to, and hardly anywhere to take Aidan to play beyond the national park and botanical gardens. I'm scared to go to the zoo because of conditions I've heard about. 

It's a feeling of being trapped, in a hot cage where the weather doesn't change. You can't just jump in your car and go somewhere. First off, the driving is scary, and second, the roads are piss-poor the farther you get from Georgetown and most places you might want to go you actually have to go by speedboat. You can't get to places over bridges by car very easily, and the potholes on those little roads will kill our Rav4. So you have to plan and you need money.

So you're trapped.....to make do in your house with what you have...and ants start taking over the kitchen, and your AC stops working, and your only escape, the internet, doesn't want to cooperate either, and then you just want to take a pleasant stroll without the worry of mosquitoes carrying Dengue fever biting your little one.

I'm sure my last supervisor is laughing right now if he's reading this. When I told him we were going to Guyana, he looked at me with wide, cynical eyes, "what is it with you Peace people wanting to go to third world countries!?!"

I really don't mean to be negative. I mean, I like to think that I'm open-minded about these things. It's an adventure. Each culture has a uniqueness that can become endearing. My time in Bulgaria taught me that you can't really understand your own culture until you live in another...and there's plenty to not like about the US (although the election of Obama has me feeling pretty proud about my country lately - but again, that's another post).

In the past couple of weeks I've found myself feeling more nostalgia for Bulgaria. Through all the corruption and lack of customer service, they still have some pride and culture. Bulgaria can go somewhere. 

But I don't want to compare my experience here to Bulgaria, because the experience is VERY different (just to lay out the most obvious...I was single and a volunteer in Bulgaria, now I'm married to a diplomat, given he is my Peace Corps sweetheart, with a 17-month old boy and no job of my own).

Culture here is a mish-mash that I was looking forward to exploring. It's interesting on the one-hand, because there are so many different religions (which you would think would make people more tolerant) with the interesting mesh of indian curry and chinese fried-rice that permeates the "caribbean" food culture. But they haven't really latched on to what they view as important and valued about their culture that they want to preserve. Everyone wants to immigrate and buy American products. They don't think about what they should produce here to keep this country going. Now I don't want to generalize, because some entrepreneurs are doing some great things (aquaculture, for example), but overall I find myself feeling very sad about this country. The poverty and lack of desire to make it better. Instead, here's the attitude: let's leave. 

Paul Collier put is succinctly in his book "The Bottom Billion" when discussing Cuba: 

To my mind, development is about giving hope to ordinary people that their children will live in a society that has caught up with the rest of the world. Take that hope away and the smart people will use their energies not to develop their society but to escape from it.

I haven't found one thing that I will treasure and it makes me sad.....neither a treasure that I've learned, an insight I've gained by being here, nor a material treasure...the unique ethno-plunder that you bring back from the places that you have lived and travelled.

And no matter how hard I try, I can not, CAN NOT get over the driving. Here is an example that seems to happen to me on a daily basis:

First, remember that we drive on the left-hand side of the road with the steering wheel on the right.

Second, most roads are quite narrow with no sidewalks to speak of.

I'm waiting at the stop light behind 4 or so cars to turn right (this would be your normal left-hand turn in the States).

Imagine seeing the number count down on the crosswalk before it gets to zero and your light turns green.

10, 9, 8..horns start beeping...7, 6, 5...more horns...the light is still red people!!....4, 3, 2...out of my rear view mirror I see a car coming in the right-hand lane beside me, on a two lane road, in the opposite direction of traffic, at top speed to go around all the cars in the left-lane, who have just started moving to go when the red light is still 2 seconds from turning green...this car speeds around all cars to go straight through the light. 

Think of this: if I didn't look in my rear-view mirror EVERY SINGLE TIME, I am bound to make that right turn and hit this car, which is going around my right and not turning right, but going straight through the intersection.

Can you imagine????

I mean, it' one thing to pass someone when everyone is just going straight. But passing cars who are planning to turn in your direction in the middle of an intersection??!?!?

wtf!?!

And that happens to me almost on a daily basis.

I guess everyone here has somewhere to be in a real hurry, I just can't seem to figure out where that would be.

I counted yesterday, and my heart stopped 5 times on the 10-minute ride home from a friend's. I think I'll have a heart-attack if I don't get into an accident before leaving Guyana.

I long for the days of sane driving, where people generally observe traffic laws. I really don't think I'll need to call people jerks in the States for driving too close, etc. It just doesn't in any way compare.

So, do I need to get out of town?  YES!!  Maybe if I had a chance to experience the interior and rainforest, I would see the beauty of Guyana..the beauty of it's people and nature. I hope. But from where I'm standing right now, I find little hope.

We're going away for four days for Christmas to Rockview Lodge in the savannah. It looks nice yes? Will my hope for Guyana be restored? Tourism, birding, craft?

Okay, you got me. What I'm really looking forward to is our trip home in late Feb. Cold weather, skiing, good food, orderly driving, friends and family...what more can you ask for?

Can anyone tell me whatever happened to Calgon anyway? Did the likes of the Body Shop take over? I can't even think about taking a hot bath..it's too damn hot! The first time I've had a jacuzzi bathtub and I don't even want to use it!!

When there's nothing to do and your feeling quite blue, call for Duck Ellington, he always comes through.

Sorry, jazz from a duck won't cut it either. Only a plane will suffice. Please.

p.s. to my husband. Don't say again "that's the differential" or I'll give you a differential parting gift on your ass as I jump on the first plane out of here. You see, the differential is the amount that he is paid above his salary for living in a place such as this. You wouldn't have a high differential if you lived in say, Ireland. Bulgaria would be a modest differential. Here, it's high. The differential is calculated based on a number of factors, not the least of which is the ease with which you can ESCAPE! Maybe I'll be a consultant with the following Lesson Plan: 

How to not spend entire differential on escape trips every 5 months so that you don't go completely insane.

a special p.s. to the 'rents...don't worry, we're fine...I just needed to vent.

YES WE CAN!!

imagine photo of Richard and me dancing, with tears streaming down my face...

(our camera seems to be out of commission)

Our little monkey

Did you expect another costume? I mean, what else would my son have possibly been for his first Halloween? He was only 4 months old last Halloween, so I do consider this the first "real" Halloween. 

We went trick or treating in the Embassy. At about the third office, he started to understand that he should grab candy and put it into the bag, but then he wanted to continually take it out of the bag and then grab way more than his fair share.... besides the fact that he won't even eat any of the candy. 

For all you folks without kids or whose kids are too old for you to be thinking about this stuff: hard candy is a no-no because he could choke and the other stuff might have trace amounts of peanuts which he can't have yet. Because of the increase in allergies in kids, they recommend waiting until at least 2 years old to try any type of nut. 

Anyway, I don't think he's suffering because he's not getting candy. It's all new to him anyway...he doesn't even know what candy is except that the wrappers look really shiny and look like they might be fun to monkey around with. 

And look, he's eating a yummy banana like a true monkey should. 

Aidan had a great time at the Embassy and the baby group party afterwards...so much so that he fell asleep in the car on the way home and went to bed early. That's a nice Halloween gift for mommy and daddy who went to an adult party afterwards. I won't divulge Richard's costume -- which he has been waiting 4 years to wear and for which he won the award "best male costume"-- until I have photos.

One thing I have to admit about my little monkey - he was the cutest one there! 

Hey baby, wanna take a ride in my love machine?

I'll take you for a wild ride!!

Mommy, may I have my finger bowl please?

I'm really starting to get worried. 

I really haven't worried much when it comes to developmental milestones. All babies develop on their own time and each next step will come when he is naturally ready.

But then I read, "When you should start to be concerned regarding language development. Your baby should say 4-6 words by 15 months, such as Mama and Dada" on the Baby Center website, I thought, should I be doing something different? 

He's over 15 months, and we've got almost nothing. "Ba" for ball and that's it. 

Don't get me wrong, he knows how to communicate in his own special way. Usually a point, with a "hmmm?".

Here's a good example when he does the "hmmm?" and I know exactly what he means:

Preface:

We can't drink directly out of the tap. It looks safe but likely has bacteria in it. We have a distiller to process all of the water that we drink and wash vegetables with. So, when you want to wash your baby's hands in water, when he is likely to immediately put that wet hand in his mouth, you realize that you can't use the tap water but must use the distilled.

So, to wipe his hands and face (and anywhere else that food happens to fall) after each meal, we put a little distilled water in a ramekin, then bring it to the table with a washcloth while he's still strapped into the highchair. 

Now little boys love to play with water. So for the last few weeks, after he's finished, he does the "hmmm" sound and points to the kitchen. Here's the routine after each meal:

"Hmmm?" 

"Do you want the finger bowl?"

Big smile, followed by another "Hmmm?" fingerpoint towards the kitchen.

I proceed to retrieve said "finger bowl" and put the half-filled with water ramekin in front of him in the palm of my hand.

He makes little motions with his fingers. Sometimes he is a bit tentative, looking up to make sure it's okay to put his fingers in there. He then puts fingers from one hand in the bowl and wiggles them around. 

"Put the other hand in the bowl. Wash both hands."

He looks up with an impish grin, tentative, then puts the other hand in so that both fingers from both hands are splashing around in the little bowl.

Then he gets excited, giggles, yelps, splashes those little fingers around in the water with all of his might until the water is all over him and me.

I take the bowl away and get the washcloth. 

He points down on his highchair to his legs and feet with a "hmmm?". 

"Yes sweetheart, you spilled the water from the finger bowl all over yourself, just like you do every night."

We finish dipping the washcloth into the rest of the water and wash off his hands and face.

What have we learned? I think my child is having a unique experience first of all. How many kids use a finger bowl these days after dinner? I decided to look up finger bowls to try to find some history. Wikipedia hardly has anything, so then I googled it. I found this:

Finger Bowls

The finger bowl has hovered on the brink of obsolescence for over a century without entirely disappearing. This is probably why it provides the critical obstacle in the story of the man, either a foreigner or a bumpkin (depending on the teller), who is a guest at a formal dinner party. When a servant offers him a bowl of water at the end of the meal, he drinks it. The hostess presiding at the event is so poised and utterly well-mannered that, without skipping a beat, she drinks her bowl down, too, thus saving him the embarrassment of realizing the extent of his faux pas. This tale has reached almost the status of urban legend, and it is told in many variations. The hostess may be a family matriarch or someone very well-known, say Eleanor Roosevelt or Queen Victoria, but the finger bowl seems to be a constant.

Fortunately, the main difficulty lies in recognizing the finger bowl when you see it, which, at formal events, will be either before or after the dessert course. Often there is a slice of lemon floating in the water. Once you are presented with one, all you need to know is that you should delicately dip your fingertips in the water (no scrubbing), dry them off with your napkin (equally delicately), and set the bowl to the side of your plate.

So, he's mastered the finger bowl, well, not the delicate part, but he'll get it sooner or later. I think some people might think his knowledge of a finger bowl at such an early age makes us a bit pretentious. But I tend to believe his knowledge only adds to his world view and will make him a good host (I'll be sure to tell him all about the urban legend at some point - maybe when he reads this blog!). After all, we use it for purely practical reasons, not because I'm trying to teach him how to host a formal dinner party.

And I have to admit that I have come to enjoy the finger bowl myself. Before he became so enthused with splashing his hands around in the bowl, I was able to put the finger bowl on the table at the beginning of the meal without him being distracted and refusing to eat with constant "hmmm?" points. I used it myself. A little dip, then dry on the napkin. Particularly when I was trying to get him to eat a little more by feeding him bites directly from my fingers. 

After all this talk about finger bowls, I think the real question for this post is the following:

What will be his first words, first phrase? Not, mama, dada, but:

"Mommy, may I have my finger bowl please?"

p.s. I started a draft of this post 10 days ago. Aidan is now consistently saying "bye", "hi", "da" for Daddy, "ba" for ball, "ma" for maggie, and the cutest little soft spoken "yes". 

What's next? I'm betting on "mama" (please?) and "no" (can we wait a little longer for "no"?).

Mommy, I have these holes in my nose!

Update: Aidan has discovered his nostrils. 

I imagine the thought process, "Hmmm, let's see, this finger fits in this nostril quite nicely. And then this finger fits in the other nostril. So now I have one finger in one nostril and one in the other. This is really cool! Maybe I can shove more fingers up there. Hey, wait, what else can I find to shove up there? Peas? Corn? Giggle giggle."

He hasn't put anything up his nose besides his fingers, but I have no doubt that it's coming.

And don't ask me for a photo demonstration. I'm not putting a photo of my little one up on the internet with his fingers in his nose.

Nicer, gentler photos will come soon!