A Tribute to My Family

I (Jason) have mentioned to a few people in the past few days that if I’d known what we were getting ourselves into with this experience in London, I’m not sure I would have signed up to do it. Don’t get me wrong: it’s been an amazing and wonderful time. Indeed, if it can be considered a single “experience,” it was probably the single best experience of my life. But as we’ve explained in previous posts, it was also very challenging: living with and homeschooling three small children in a small flat in London for four months is simply hard – very hard. Choosing to do this with a full knowledge of what it would involve would, in any case, have required a great deal of courage – courage that is very well warranted, but that I might very well have lacked.

With this perspective in mind, I’d like to close out my contribution to this blog with a very heartfelt tribute to my wonderful family. The other day, as I was standing on a subway platform waiting for a train, I explained to Erinn over the phone, while fighting back tears, how utterly grateful I was for our time here – how we’ve had SO MANY experiences any ONE of which is profoundly and inexpressibly dear to me. I’d like to take a moment now to (in a second-person kind of way) give credit where credit is due for these experiences.

Oliver, you don’t really get “credit” for your “actions,” but I can praise you nonetheless for your beautiful, cheery, and easygoing disposition. Had you not been the little person you are, our experience would have been very, very different, and much less rich and rewarding. Daily you spread joy throughout our family and beyond, and our lives are blessed because of this.

Brendan and Lily, you kids are amazing. You walked countless miles and visited scores of museums – things that don’t naturally top the list of “things to do” for six- and nine-year-olds. You lived without play dates and so many of the comforts of home. THANK YOU for embracing this experience with such enthusiasm and excitement. Many times you let me drag you along to do this or that. In doing so you gave your dad a great gift – one that he’ll cherish forever and ever. I’m EXTREMELY proud of you both.

Erinn, YOU are the one that made our life in London possible. Every day you bore the brunt of parenting, serving, entertaining, and educating our little ones under some very challenging conditions: a tiny flat, a foreign environment, a lack of girlfriends, a lack of personal time or space, rain, sleet and snow, the fast and demanding pace of urban living, and much more. You did our laundry and kept the flat clean. You made a heroic journey home with an amazingly positive attitude. I cannot begin to articulate – or probably even to appreciate – everything you’ve done for us. But I know that without your humble service and dedication to us our lives would have fallen apart. Thank you for giving of yourself to me and to the rest of us in so many ways. You deserve more praise and thanks than I could ever hope to offer. I do love you dearly and thank you from the bottom of my heart. There’s no one in the world that I’d rather have shared this experience with.

Well, that’s my piece. Perhaps Erinn will want to make a final post. In any case, see below for a few more pics of our final week or so in London. Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Brompton Cemetery after the last big snowfall.

OKB hammin' it up (again).

Right back at ya!

E and kids in the Natural History Museum.

Oliver encounters the animals at the Natural History Museum.

Our final visit to the Tower of London.

Flying home. :)

Goodbye London!



Looking Forward, Looking Back

So, we’ve all (minus Oliver) made some attempt to articulate what we’re most looking forward to about being back home and what we think we’ll miss most about our time in London. Here goes:

LILY:

Most looking forward to …

1.       Seeing Sierra (our golden retriever)

2.       Getting my own room

3.       Sleeping in my own bed

4.       Having a sleepover with my friends

5.       Going to the bay

Will miss the most (or just loved doing) …

1.       My birthday in Paris

2.       Seeing the musicals Oliver, Matilda, Wicked, Phantom of the Opera

3.       St. Paul’s (climbing to the top of the dome)

4.       The hotel in Stratford-Upon-Avon and getting to see Shakespeare’s house

5.       Snow!

BRENDAN:

Most looking forward to …

1.       My lava lamp

2.       Getting my own room

3.       Our backyard

4.       Seeing Sierra

5.       Seeing friends

Will miss the most (or just loved doing) …

1.       The Science Museum

2.       The Natural History Museum

3.       Paris

4.       Oxford

5.       Snow!

ERINN:

Most looking forward to …

1.   Being able to easily call my family. Sharing life with my girlfriends. Our neighborhood. And not always feeling a little in the way. Kids are "welcome" in London, but mysteriously absent from most things we did, so I was constantly feeling like muzzling them and saying "can you please just not be children for 4 months? Then, I promise, you can act like complete animals in good ol' Long Beach." I found myself caring, way too much, about keeping up the appearance that we had our act together and I'm sure it carved out a new cauldron or two in my own soul.

2.   Kids back to a more balanced life: though it was nice to have them to ourselves in some ways, I know they were tiring of the pace that we were keeping and the lack of friends and, though they couldn't articulate it, physical activities beyond walking all day.

3.   Better weather/the ocean: we loved experiencing the beautiful fall and the winter with its snow, but we were growing tired of the more extreme cold with the limited gear we had coupled with our having to walk everywhere (and weren't up for shopping for a bunch of new stuff).

4.   Familiar grocery shopping & eating (good ol' Trader Joes).

5.   Sleeping in a nice bed that doesn't creep me out. Oh, our deck and a backyard!

Will miss the most …

1.       Living in a cultural mecca with amazing historic sites so readily available and so FREE.

2.       Living in a vibrant city with the hustle/bustle of urban energy and sharing that with my kids and watching them navigate it and mature.

3.       The inspiration that comes with living the lifestyle we were living (hopefully we can continue this at home, but this was a unique, focused and rich time that will be hard to replicate)

4.       Good theater always available (we're pretty spoiled in southern CA too, but this is London!)

5.       The amazing diversity of cultures and languages and how that broadens your picture of the world.

6.       Hearing English accents and diction: love it, love it, love it and wish it were mine. Faking it around the house only fills the void a little :)

7.       Walking EVERYWHERE. At home, we're proud when we walk to Trader Joe's up the street. Here there's no option and it feels good (especially before the snow).

8.       Oxfam, Oxfam and more Oxfam (I mean the little Oxfam-sponsored thrift stores vs. the charitable organization itself: I mean, sure, I'm glad the $$ goes to someone deserving, but that wasn't exactly what thrilled me as I walked by). I loved just the mere possibility that I might find some gem at one of these "Goodwill" like stores. Trash to treasure, right?

9.       High Street Kensington. I don't know why, but just saying the words satisfies something in me.

10.   Double decker buses.

11.   All the "sorrys": despite Jason's post about a judgmental spirit in the air here, there's also the law of consideration and decency that pervades the culture. It left me feeling a sense of protection and trust in this foreign place. Always someone, even a teenager, to lift my "pram" or stroller up the stairs at the subway. (You see, Brendan stopped "manning up" a loooooooooong time ago.)

12.   The clothing of the little ones: from student uniforms to everyday coats, those little cuties warmed my heart, though I'm pretty sure the appearance belied a cheeky lee-to attitude.

JASON:

Most looking forward to …

1.       Being back with friends, family, and neighbors in our wonderful community in Long Beach.

2.       Having an office. As far as working goes, I’ve been a man without a country here: can’t work in our flat; no place to really read and write at the foundation where I’m teaching; the libraries near us are crammed and keep very limited hours; and it’s not customary to spend long hours at a coffee shop like it is in the US.

3.       Sleeping in a comfortable bed sans baby in the room or bed. Oliver beware: some serious sleep training lies ahead!

4.       A more rigorous exercise routine. We do *a ton* of walking here, which is great; but I’m looking forward to actually breaking a sweat.

5.       Having a bit more living space, a yard, and weather that permit easy access to the outdoors (by more living space I mean 1350 square feet rather than 900).

6.       Cooking with gas! Seriously.

7.       Wearing clothes that have been in a dryer (vs. on a dryer rack). And not having to wear an article of clothing five or six times before it gets washed.

8.       The availability of a good selection of IPAs. I figured IPA would be readily accessible in London, given its British/Indian history. But the beer selection at grocery stores was weird and very limited. And while the pubs we went to occasionally had some good ales, they mainly offered Heineken, Stella, Moretti, a couple not very interesting English standards, and Guinness. I like Guinness, but not as much as I like a good IPA.

Will miss the most …

1.       The history, art, and beauty of this city. I’ll really, really miss all the wonderful museums, the beautiful architecture, the sprawling parks and gardens, the churches, the musicals, and much, much more!

2.       Strolling the streets of London with my family. This is one of my most cherished memories: just walking together at a leisurely pace through the city, taking in all the sights, sounds, smells, etc.

3.       Our “bubble time.” Aside from several wonderful visits from friends and family, we’ve lived in a bubble here: living together in a small flat, homeschooling, going on countless excursions just the five of us, and not really making any friends. Suffice it to say that we’ve had *loads* of quality time together as a family. At times, this has felt suffocating for some or all of us; but it’s mostly been wonderful and has made us even closer as a family.

4.       Seeing our kids embrace and (try to) adapt to a foreign environment and culture. This has been a real delight. Brendan has become fully competent on the subway (he’s great at identifying which train we need to catch, when we need to get off, etc.). Lily and Brendan have embraced learning about English history, literature, and art. They’ve also done lots of excellent sketching and drawing much of it inspired by the art or other things they’ve seen here. Lily has cultivated a great English accent (though it alternates between cockney and posh).

5.       The seasons! While 70 and sunny 350 days a year really is nice, one thing I’ve learned about myself is that the changing of the seasons ministers to me deeply. We have experienced three distinct seasons in these four months. When we got here, it was warm and the flowers were in full bloom. By mid-October the trees were aflame with color. Now the leaves have fallen off the trees and it’s dumping snow! (They’re now saying that December is on track to be the coldest month on record in England!)

6.       Sweets and hot drinks in beautiful museum cafes. This has become a little tradition for us. Many of the museums here have lovely and cozy cafes that serve tea, cappuccinos, and various sweets (cakes, scones, croissants, etc.). My favorites are the ones at the Victoria and Albert Museum and the National Gallery.

7.       The ease of getting around via public transportation (busses and subway).

8.       The pervasive availability of Indian food and ingredients. Like I may have mentioned in a previous post, one can get Indian spices, naan, even tikka masala in a can, at just about any local convenience store (and the selection of Indian foods and ingredients at major grocery storse is amazing). Ground cardamom, which is about $10 per (tiny) container in the US is about three pounds or $4.50.

I’ve got one more post to make – a tribute to my wife and kids. I’ll try to get it up before Christmas. Then we’ll be signing off. Cheers!

Erinn's Trek Home with Oliver: Wee, wee, wee all the way home.........

As we mention below, because of Erinn’s flight cancellation, she and Oliver had to fly to Chicago on Tuesday, stay in a hotel, and then fly to Arizona early the next morning. That was challenging enough. But she also had the additional challenge of doing this while having to cart around two very large suitcases, two sizeable carry-on bags, a stroller, and a baby-carrying backpack (not to mention a restless and squirmy baby himself). Here are her highs and lows from the trip back:

Highlights: traveling with a handsome guy who is always up for a snuggle; fast tracking it through Heathrow due to my little handsome guy; letting Oliver wander through the wasteland of the United terminal (no flights = no people = lots of space for little toddler to roam and not cause trouble); sitting in economy plus in the bulkhead between two lovely ladies who were flexible and endured a tug and a swat or two; Oliver sleeping pretty well on the second half of the international flight (no screaming fits); being surprised that the hotel I was staying at wasn't a dump; sleeping on a nice mattress in that hotel; enjoying nice American chatter on the shuttle to the airport in the morning (have missed the chit chat with strangers); having my flight from Chicago actually leave (I kept bracing for an announcement otherwise); Oliver enduring another four hour flight without totally losing it; ah, and seeing my lovely husband waiting at Sky Harbor's baggage claim............ support and love had arrived!

Lowights: gimping it through my two-day travel experience: you see, I literally wore my lovely boots to their death this semester. Because we had no friends, and therefore no fashion accountability, I felt perfectly comfortable wearing the same outfit every day. I pretty much rotated two pairs of jeans and wore the same boots every day. Time to cut out that nonsense. The boots were wussy, but I literally (and I'm using that word correctly here) wore them to the point that there were holes in the soles). So, all that to say that it was like walking with a flat tire (that no one could see -- that's what matters, right? :)); witnessing countless emotional meltdowns between people and airport employees; being "wee'd" (as the English say) on at least five times between these two flights. I had purchased the cheapest and most poorly made diapers in the universe before leaving London. So I'd be sitting there, holding Oliver, and just feel this warmth spread across my lap. I actually felt a lot like I was wee-ing all over myself but had no ability to stop it whatsoever. So, I kept changing him and eventually had to just hope the outfits would dry out on their own. I'd rotate one icky outfit for another, just to feel like I was doing something. For myself, I'd just wet wipe my jeans down and hope that pee from a baby who lives on milk wouldn't smell too bad; a crazy cab driver (who took me to the hotel in Chicago) who had a swearing match with another airline worker and seemed totally put out to take me anywhere; hanging with a wide awake Oliver from about 1 a.m. to 5:30 a.m. in our hotel room; and finally, another four hr. flight of going through countless cycles of my "bag of tricks" with Oliver while being peed on and mauled here and there with "kisses" that morphed into bites and hair pulling (when he was sort of losing it too). All in all, could have been so much worse, so I'm thankful for God's grace to me in this experience.

A Narrow Escape

We have a few posts left in us, which we’ll make over the next few days, but first we need to share the rollercoaster that has been our last few days. I’ll confess upfront that I (Jason) am not a good storyteller; and yet we’ve got at least something of a story that needs to be told. The story is complex, but some of the details are critical. So bear with me!

We were scheduled to leave London on Tuesday 12/21. Because we were making use of some flight miles, Erinn was scheduled to fly with Oliver on United and I was scheduled to fly with Brendan and Lily on British Airways.

As you probably know, the UK and other parts of Europe have been hit with major snow and freezing temperatures over the past several days. The Heathrow airport completely shut down on Sunday 12/19, most flights were cancelled on Monday 12/21, and the situation looked somewhat but not much better for Tuesday, our departure date. The situation there really is dire: it’s on the level of a national crisis. More than a HALF MILLION Christmas travelers have been or are stranded at Heathrow airport. A big bold headline in one of the papers yesterday (which is but one of countless such headlines over the past several days) read “Will Heads Roll Over Heathrow?” About 25 of the 28 LMU students I taught were scheduled to depart on December 19: all their flights were canceled; most won’t be able to get out until just before Christmas or later.

So, we were anxiously checking the status of our flights all day Monday. Amazingly, everything was looking good. But then late Monday evening we learned that Erinn’s flight was cancelled. I called United and they said that the soonest she and Oliver could be rebooked was December 27! We weren’t going to spend Christmas apart from each other, which meant that I was in the position of having to cancel my, Brendan, and Lily’s reservation on a flight that was still scheduled to depart and to try to rebook for the 27^th or thereabouts. I tried to do this but couldn’t reach anyone at British Airways. In the meantime, we’d been hearing and reading repeated warnings from the airport and airlines saying that no one should travel to the airport who didn’t have a confirmed spot on a scheduled flight. Nevertheless, I decided, hoping against hope, that I would go to Heathrow on Tuesday morning (which again was the day we were scheduled to leave) to see if something could be done about the situation.

If I had known what the scene was at Heathrow, I wouldn’t have gone. They were not letting ANYONE into any part of the airport who did not have a ticket or reservation for a non-canceled flight leaving that day. When I got to the escalator that goes from the tube station into the airport, the way was blocked by airport personnel and security. They were turning away people left and right – mainly people who, like I, were trying to rebook their flights. Obviously I didn’t meet the criteria for entering. Nevertheless I began to explain our situation to one of the airport people, who then (miraculously) allowed me to enter and told me where to go. Hurdle number one overcome. But as soon as I got into the airport and tried to make my way toward the ticket desks, I encountered another barricade. Again, there were several airport personnel answering questions and turning away passengers. As I began to explain our situation to one person, another came by and said emphatically that no rebooking was being done and that only confirmed passengers could get by. The first person then referred me to his supervisor, who was a very kind and compassionate man. He listened to the details of my story but said very apologetically that he they couldn’t let me in. He gave me a phone number to call and I walked away. About a minute later, as I was trying to reach someone at the number I’d been given, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the supervisor I’d just spoken with. He grabbed me by the arm and said “Follow me.” He took me past the crowds and barricade and said that I should go talk to the people at yet another checkpoint. Hurdle number two overcome. So I stood in line again and had my situation vetted again. After explaining myself, the man said: “Okay, because there’s a baby involved, we’re going to try to address your situation. Go see the person across the way at the ticket desk.” Hurdle number three overcome. Finally, the kind woman at the ticket desk said she was able to get Erinn and Oliver onto a flight later that day, but that Erinn and Oliver would have to stay in Chicago for the night. My knees about buckled with gratitude. (It’s difficult to explain how difficult it would have been for us to stay there for another week. We’d spent the last week or two seeing the sights one last time, we’d fully packed, cleaned our flat, the weather was horrible, we were going to miss Christmas with family, etc.)

So, I had to rush back home to finish getting things ready to go so that we could all take a cab to the airport in about two hours. We rushed and rushed. The cab arrived 20 minutes early, while I was in the shower. We scrambled, got packed up, and stormed out of the flat. The cab dropped Erinn and Oliver at Terminal 1 and the other kids and me at Terminal 5. After long delays on the tarmac, we all made it out! Erinn and Oliver got to Chicago, stayed in a hotel, and flew to Arizona this morning. We’re all here safe, sound, and profoundly grateful.

 Again, more to follow soon. See below for a picture of Lily at Sky Harbor, waiting for her ride.

The British: A (Judgmental) Observation

An observation about the British has been percolating in my (Jason’s) mind for a while. I think it’s finally crystallized.

On the one hand, it’s well known that the British are very non-confrontational and that they’re very “polite.” On the other hand, they do not suffer fools. In fact, they’re quite critical and judgmental. They are *not* generally easygoing or laid back. As you can imagine, this makes for an interesting tension: they don’t suffer fools, yet they’re non-confrontational. So how does this tension express itself? Well, my suggestion is that it gets relieved in a vast repertoire of glares, sighs, and snide remarks uttered under the breath. These things—especially the glares and related judgmental looks—are pretty pervasive in human interaction here.

This isn’t revelatory; perhaps it’s just commonsense among those who know much of anything about the British. But I must say that I think this basic observation has A LOT of explanatory power: it accounts for a great deal of what any observant person would pick up on in stores, restaurants, tubes, busses, shops, etc.

“Geez Jason,” you may be thinking, “you must have offended a lot of people to have arrived at this observation.” There’s some truth to that. (Case in point: yesterday Brendan and I were in a ridiculously, maximally packed subway car and, as we were approaching our stop, were about as far away from any door as we could be. So, *as the train began slowing down,* we slowly began milling our way toward the door. This was our only hope of getting off in time, as there were also masses of people on the platform waiting to pack in. We managed to get off, but as we did so, I heard a man mutter under his breath “You wait until the train has stopped before you start trying to get off.”) You must also bear in mind that on many of my outings, I’ve been accompanied by one Miss Lily, who stands to the British mold of "proper and polite" like a square peg to a round hole. Finally, and more seriously and sadly, I must say that most of fiery darts I’ve witnessed have actually been shot across class or socioeconomic lines (a point for different post, I suppose).

Finally, some sincere qualifications and disclaimers: 1. Obviously, this observation doesn’t apply to all (quite possibly not even to most) British people; 2. Most of the British people we’ve had surfacy interactions with (e.g. restaurant servers, people we’ve asked for directions from, etc.) have in fact been very helpful and kind; 3. The quality I’m drawing attention to is partially an indication of intelligence (in general, fools are probably more likely to suffer fools); and 4. Yes, this may very well be a case of “it takes one to know one” (though I do at least *value* and make some *attempt* to be easygoing and laid back).

Can anyone confirm or deny this observation?

Christmas at St. Paul's

So we've got about three more days here. We've been paying our last respects to some of our favorite places. On Sunday we had a special lunch in the gorgeous Victoria and Albert Museum restaurant/cafe. Then we spent some good time at the nearby Natural History Museum. On Monday we went to a holiday dealio at the Science Museum. On Wednesday, we had a great and final visit to the National Gallery (where Lily worked on yet another copy of a very large and moving painting of Lady Jane Grey as she is about to get decapitated!) Yesterday Brennie and I made a final visit to the British Museum. Today we had a fun late afternoon/early evening visit to the Tower of London. The Tower was virtually empty. We got to view the crown jewels over and over again. (Those of you who have seen them know that you basically pass them by on a moving walkway. We got to repeat the process many times over.)

Last night was a really special time. We went to an annual free Christmas concert at the majestic St. Paul's Cathedral featuring the cathedral choir, many incredibly talented musicians, some "celebrity readers" (I'd only heard of one of them), etc. We lined up outside the cathedral an hour beforehand just as the rain was turning to snow. Shortly thereafter a person from St. Paul's (who was counting every person in line) informed us that we were fourteen people beyond the maximum capacity of the cathedral and that our ability to enter was a "maybe." We waited another half hour. It was very windy, very cold, and snowing. Sure enough, when the fourteenth person ahead of us entered the cathedral, they stopped the line! A long fifteen minutes or so later (in the freezing, windy, snowy weather, with poor Brendan nearly in tears about his freezing cold feet and toes), they told us we could enter. We didn't have a direct view of the stage, but we did have a marvelous view of the cathedral ceiling and various soaring archways all decorated with incredible paintings, sculptures, and other artwork. The service did not disappoint. It was a wonderful combination of carols (sung by everyone), songs performed by the choir, and readings from the Christmas narrative and other sources. A "proper" way of celebrating the holiday!

I'll attach a few pictures from outside of St. Paul's (no cameras allowed inside) and of our time this evening at the Tower of London.

Tomorrow we begin packing. We've got a few more posts planned between now and Tuesday (our departure date). So stay tuned!

St. Paul's from the side (in line). (Unfortunately I didn't get any good shots of the dome at night.)

St. Paul's from the front, after the concert.

E and kids in front of the Tower of London. (I forgot to mention that it snowed again today! Not for long, but it came down hard and it was cold enough to stick.)

Tower Bridge.

The bridge a couple hours later.

Some Christmas decorations at the Tower.

Hangin' in there.

Charles, Camilla, and Oliver (the musical)

Last night we were walking from the Piccadilly tube station to a theater to see a production of the musical Oliver which began at 7:30 (the real Oliver stayed home with a babysitter). At about 7:15, we were about to cross a busy street when we heard some major commotion heading our way. It turned out to be a throng of rowdy and fairly sketchy-looking student protestors expressing their opposition to some colossal university fee hikes recently passed by the British Parliament. We raced across the street to avoid getting caught up in the mob (and so that we could make it to theater on time--we were in a bit of a rush). Now, as you may have heard or seen, a Rolls Royce carrying Prince Charles and his wife Camilla was attacked last night in London by a similar group of protestors (see the widely published photo below). When we initially heard this news, we didn’t think much of it (there have been a lot of such protests in the city lately). However, we recently learned that the attack occurred at 7:20 about a five minute walk from the Piccadilly Circus/Leicester Square area! So we figure this must have been the group we crossed paths with! (I don’t know if I would’ve described them as “feral thugs,” as the Prime Minister did, but they were pretty unruly looking and sounding--not what you’d expect when you think of British student protestors.) Anyway, this is certainly our closest brush with any living history in London.

More importantly, the musical was amazing! We had gone to the theater earlier in the day to see whether we could get some day-of discounted tickets. The person at the box office told me that they don’t discount any tickets. But after I told him I’d take four tickets in the upper balcony for 25 pounds each, he proceeded to explain that they’d had a cancellation in one of their “boxes,” and that he’d give us those tickets for the same price. I was very grateful, but didn’t know until we arrived for the show what a favor he’d done us. We had our own private box with four chairs and an incredible, close-up view of the stage. It was amazing and a highlight of the trip for all of us. This musical occupies a special place in Evans (Erinn’s maiden name) family history, we’ve been listening to the soundtrack over and over since we arrived in London, we’ve read different versions of the story to the kids (not the Dickens one though), and they’ve watched two video productions of it. So we were prepared! Everything about the production was wonderful: the acting, the singing, the choreography, the set, etc., were all outstanding. But I think we all agree that Fagan really stole the show! A very delightful and exciting evening.

P.S. In the spirit of "realism," Erinn thought I should mention that in the span of less than a week, we've experienced a major power outage and our boiler has died. Normally these things wouldn't be a big deal, but since it's been *freezing* the loss of power and the loss of the boiler have meant a loss of any heat! So for a little while we were all bundling up and using the kitchen oven to try to generate some warmth (though we couldn't even do this much when the power was out). So it's not all roses. Thanks for the reminder honey. :)

Camilla and Charles looking horrified as the protestors chanted "off with their heads" (seriously).

This one is for our Indian food-loving friends, taken in the subway station on our way to the theater. Something tells me they haven't rolled this one out in the LBC just yet.

The theater was in Covent Garden, which is decked out in Christmas decorations.

What are these commoners doing in the rich people's seats?

On the tube ride home.