2021: A year of adventures during a global pandemic

Well, all it took was finally getting the dreaded virus and a mandatory 10-day quarantine locked in a room all to myself to update this blog.  (Don't worry, it's day 4 and I'm starting to come back to life.  New studies show, I may even be practically invincible after this infection.  But I digress. . . )  Even 10 days won't be enough to do a proper update after such blatant disregard for years, but a start is better than nothing (and fair warning, even a start is going to be long).

Since 2021 is drawing to a close, it's probably a good time to look back and relive the highs and lows of an exciting and tumultuous year.  We moved to Tanzania at the end of 2020 and lost no time exploring the wonderful adventures this country has to offer.  From the cloudy mountains of Lushoto to the safari savannas at Mikumi to the breathtaking beaches of Zanzibar, every long weekend we did our best to get out and see everything.  

And the best part was that most of the adventures we took involved just us (and whenever possible a buddy car with friends) and were outside, so we felt safe getting out and exploring despite the uncertainty of the pandemic in a developing country.  We spotted lions and elephants and giraffes and crocodiles.  We climbed through rainforests, spied chameleons and stick bugs, slapped mosquitos, and passed through traditional farms and villages on the way to dramatic waterfalls.  We ate fat juicy sweet mangos, sour passionfruit, and tangy pineapples.  We enjoyed avocados almost as big as our heads and ate fish caught fresh from the ocean that day.  We learned Kiswahili greetings and niceties (Mambo! Poa. Habari! Nzuri, salama), heard the echoes of "mzungu, mzungu" (white man, white man) everywhere we went, and sweat constantly under the relentless hot sun, never quite acclimating.

Even daily life around home was an adventure in itself.  Every evening, walking our dog along the cliff trail as the sun set and the waves crashed below, I felt grateful to be near the ocean again after so long away.  Every commute to work, as we wound around pedestrians with fruit or sticks or fabrics piled high on their heads and vibrant kitenge clothes, chaotic market stalls, Masai in traditional garb, dirt roads, beggars, children in school uniforms, packed city buses and noisy bujajis, I wondered when it would all start to feel normal.  The answer?  Probably never.  Instead, we embraced it.  We brought home chickens and goats.  Ate bananas, mangos, and coconuts from the trees in our yard.  Got used to living with ants and geckos and spiders in the house.  It seemed that for every inconvenience, there was a balancing reward.  On one side of the scale sat the bugs, the malaria, the heat, the inconsistent power and water, the frustratingly slow bureaucracy, the neverending dirt and garbage everywhere.  On the other, the warm Indian ocean, rich cultural experiences, fresh fruits and vegetables, rich new experiences.  It was no contest really.  We love Tanzania.  

We joined the yacht club so just minutes away we could access a beautiful beach and opportunities to kayak, dive, snorkel, and sail.  Funny Guy got scuba certified and is a great diver, joining us a few times a month.  He and I took sailing lessons on little Laser optimists while My Man continued his theoretical yacht skipper certification.  We bought a Hobie16 catamaran, which My Man confidently sailed from the dock armed only with his earlier laser sailing experience from boy scouts 25 years earlier.  It was enough.  After a few months of racing around the bay (and only one near-death experience with Funny Guy), he was ready for the next challenge so we traded the cat for a 27' racing monohull called Smackwater Jack.  It was the beginning of sun-soaked weekends racing the winds, laughing with friends, fishing and chasing tuna boils, picnicking on deserted islands, snorkeling at Sinda, and dreaming of retirement on a boat (a much bigger boat).

There was less diving and safariing after that, but we still snuck away for a couples-only safari at Tarangire, a trip to Zanzibar, and a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend with friends at Mafia island, where we swam with whale sharks and stingless jellies and enjoyed some of the best diving of our lives.  

After one of the scariest calls of our lives, I made an unplanned trip back to the States in May to help our Darling Daughter.  Despite the logistical challenges and emotional turmoil, it was a great excuse to spend time with family, hiking with my mom and dad, hanging out with my wonderful nieces, catching lunch with Young Man before he flew to Tanzania, and sharing hugs with my sisters.  I even marked the passing of another decade.  A few months later I traveled again to help her transition to a new boarding school (which we love).  Darling Daughter got her driver's license and celebrated another birthday.  It was a treasure to have that time with her.  It's so hard to be away from our child--the time difference is terrible and my heart is always torn between my family here and there.  But she is where she wants to be and we are so grateful to all who help support her when we cannot be there.

During the summer, we had friends visit (yahoo!!) and My Man took them to Zanzibar and Lushoto and explored around Dar while I was in the States; Young Man flew out to join them.  After I got back, we fulfilled a promise to Funny Guy to take him snowboarding by heading to the Austrian Alps, where he carved up a glacier in July.  We stopped for a few days in Munich on the way, practically living on bikes as we explored the beautiful city.  In Austria, besides skiing and snowboarding, we hiked, paraglided, mountain biked, played Phase10, and rode cable cars to incredible vistas.  It was one of the most wonderfully restful and beautiful vacations we have ever taken.

Of course, we don't play all the time.  We work hard too.  My Man is ridiculously busy sorting out all the intricacies of human resources at the embassy, managing hiring, firing, performance reviews, bilateral agreements, award ceremonies, policies, and more.  Funny Guy's classes have vacillated between virtual and in-person but either way he is doing well, especially in math (and not especially in art).  In his spare time, he joined a Virtual Reality Gorilla Tag team, created a haptic force-feedback glove, and built his own computer.  He got a 3d printer and uses it to make parts for his engineering creations.  He performs in the school band on the trumpet and was invited to the senior band.  He loves scuba diving, tolerates sailing, took surfing lessons, and cooked dinner for us all summer (my hero!).  Young Man returned to school in person after a virtual freshman year and continues to amaze us all by expertly balancing academics with a dynamic social life, working for the school paper and yearbook, ROTC, and his photography hobby.  I keep busy in Public Affairs trying to navigate what that looks like during COVID-19 in a country with limited Internet penetration.  When COVID-related travel restrictions were lifted this fall, I squeezed in trips to Mwanza, Kigoma, Dodoma, Unguja, Pemba, Mafia, and Kilimanjaro all into the last three months of the year!  It was exhausting but rewarding work, with the added bonus of getting to see even more of this unique and fascinating country.  

Over the past year, we've oscillated between telework and the office, trying to balance safety and commonsense, effectiveness and uncertainty.  We've had the bonus and bain of living in a country with little available information.  We knew COVID was making the rounds, and anecdotally it was raging at times, but without official statistics, it was hard to know exactly how careful to be.  We wore masks indoors or in crowded outdoor areas (which we tried to avoid altogether) but generally left the masks home when we were sailing or dining outdoors with friends.  We got our COVID vaccinations and then the booster and felt even safer.

And then, I got a headache, a sore throat, a fever, and a positive COVID-19 test.  Just after my incredible parents made the crazy trek to come visit (and just days before Young Man was scheduled to land for winter break).  Fiddlesticks.  And so I sit, alone in this room, unable to see my parents or hug my husband or sons.  But I am grateful.  Grateful that I was able to receive vaccinations and a booster shot (because if it's this bad even with those, I can't imagine facing this bug without them!).  Grateful that my parents are angels and planned a long trip so after this is all over we will still have lots of time to hang out.  Grateful that it looks like I may not have infected the rest of my family (negative tests for them today).  Grateful that my quarantine ends in time to celebrate Christmas with my family!  Grateful that even though the past few days have been miserable, I am healthy and recovering.  Grateful for a crazy year, where we have experienced and done so much, despite the rollercoaster of COVID-19.  Grateful for amazing friends and family to share it all with.  It has been hard.  It has been wonderful.  It has been 2021.

And that's a wrap.  Over to you 2022. 

Adventures in Turkey

When the travel agent said, "Well, this resort includes a waterpark and has a paragliding landing zone on property.  It also happens to be all-inclusive and sit next to one of the most beautiful coastal hiking paths in the world.  Flight time?  Only 2 1/2 hours from Kyiv," we didn't have to think long.  The hardest part turned out to be convincing Darling Daughter and Funny Guy to part with their new best friends for nearly a week.  Assuring them that Prince and Ash could survive without them and would still love them when we got back, we jetted toward the clear blue waters and beautiful mountains of Oludeniz, Turkey.

The five days ran away from each other as we swam, hiked, flew, relaxed, and ate.  There were so many paragliders in the air it was hard to pick out My Man!  Darling Daughter and Young Man decided to take the leap themselves and it was one of the highlights of the trip to have all three flying together for the first time ever.

Funny Guy pretty much lived in the water, moving from the water park to the heated infinity pool to the beach and back again.

We took a water taxi to a hidden beach called Butterfly Valley where Young Man and Funny Guy and I hiked up to a beautiful little waterfall.  My Man timed it just right and managed to land on the tiny beach and join us for our boat ride home.

Another day we headed into town (Fethiye) to browse the stalls of colorful carpets and ceramics, Turkish delight, spices, and more.  Fresh squeezed orange juice was less expensive (by more than half!) than a bottle of water.  We hiked up to some old ruins on the mountain and the views from the top were well worth the climb!

Young Man and I tackled a 7 km section of the Lycian Way, soaking in sunshine and stunning views.  The wildflowers were out in force and the day could not have been more beautiful. 

When it was finally time to say goodbye, I was ready to negotiate an extension but everyone else agreed that five days was just enough time.  Darling Daughter and Funny Guy were more than excited to get back to Prince and Ash (not to mention WiFi!), Young Man needed to get back in time to take the SAT, and My Man was looking forward to seeing his bees and chickens.

Although the weather had been cold and wet while we were gone, Kyiv welcomed us home with warm sunshine and an explosion of lilac and apple blossoms.  Darling Daughter took a deep breath and sighed contentedly:  It's good to be home.

A few more photos (from Young Man):

Kyiv Is an Artist's City

After awhile, life overseas with a family becomes just as busy (or maybe even more busy) than life at home in the U.S.  There are work obligations, outings with friends, service opportunities, organization events, hellos and goodbyes and networking events with colleagues.  There are birthdays and sleep overs and play dates.  There are dinners and adventures and tragedies.  There are chores and surprises and errands.  In short, life happens.  I hate the idea that this incredibly rich and beautiful and chaotic life is passing in a whirlwind without any documentation , but honestly, there's just not enough time to live it and document it (actually, we've got lots of pictures, they just exist in a digital jumble waiting to be sorted and shared!).  But tonight I find myself with a few spare moments, so I decided to let the dishes sit unwashed (it's Darling Daughter's chore now anyway) and capture a bit of the city we live in and the morning we experienced.

But first I'll back up a little.  Yesterday was a crazy mess of kids' performances at school, work events late after work, a futsal tournament for Young Man, and a scout canoe trip put together by My Man.  I finally got to sleep around midnight after all the logistics were sorted.  Young Man and a friend headed out to intercept and join the scouts early this morning and then Darling Daughter, Funny Guy, and I set out to join a Kyiv City Mural Tour my office at work had arranged.  The day was perfect--sunshiney warm with a soft cool breeze.  This is really Kyiv at its best.

Our guide met us at Golden Gate metro stop and we walked through streets we don't generally see and learned about the beautiful (and fairly recent) tradition of giant street murals in Kyiv.  Before the Maidan revolution, city bureaucracy made it difficult for artists to receive permission to paint.  Now, however, with new construction and a more empathetic government, artists are more likely to be granted an apartment or office building wall to showcase their talents and message to the world.  In just two hours of leisurely rambling, we saw a bunch of murals, varying in artistic merit, only scratching the surface of the amazing street art Kyiv has to offer.

I loved how the kids saw the graffiti as artwork in its own way, how the joy of running around and playing outside with friends was as exciting as any of it.  I loved our tour guide's passion and the stories behind each picture.  I loved spending time walking slowly and seeing the buildings, the flowers, the colors.  It was a beautiful snapshot of our wonderful, chaotic life here in Kyiv.

PS  Check out Funny Guy's awesome geography project he brought home yesterday:

PPS  I wrote this in June.  It's now November.  :D  Just took a few months to put the pictures to the words.

Adventures in Summer: Mini-Roadtrip & Flying

A couple weeks ago My Man decided that the Saturday he was scheduled to fly out to Baku for a 3-week work trip would be the perfect time to check out a rumored paragliding hill a few hours out of Kyiv (afterall, he didn't need to be at the airport until 6pm and packing wouldn't take that long. Besides--Google Maps obviously didn't know how well he drives--that time estimate was way too high. My Man thought he could cut it in half, easy.). So we all piled into the car (along with a new friend from summer camp, an expat who has lived her practically forever and is pretty awesome), cranked up the music, and set off.

We drove through stunning sunflower fields under dramatic clouds and blue skies. It was so beautiful I hated to blink. The fields of sunflowers, even mile after mile, never got old.

At last, we turned off the main road to find the paragliding hill. We spotted the tell-tale flag at the top of a hill and excitedly unloaded our picnic supplies, started a reluctant fire (the wind was so strong it kept trying to put it out), and My Man got out his glider to try to get a flight.

To be honest, it was a tiny bit of a let-down. The hill was basically just a little mound in the middle of a big cow field. It was pretty, sure, but we'd traveled almost 3 hours to get there and it definitely wasn't going to be a new amazing flying spot. My Man jumped off the hill for a quick sled run and the kids and I roasted hot dogs, played catch, and laughed as the wind blew our hair wild. We were definitely going to make the most of it.

Then I looked over and saw My Man flying over a distant ridge. What in the world? How did he get there?! He'd just landed at the bottom of our hill, hadn't he? Where was I going to pick him up? I looked down and there was My Man walking toward us across the field. I looked up and the wing in the air was gone. Had I imagined it? No, wait, there it was again. Turns out there was another glider flying on the next ridge over (at the actual flying spot!). Excitedly, we hurriedly put out our fire, packed up our picnic and hurried back down the hill to the car to try to find the launch. It was tricky, but eventually we did find it. And it was awesome.

A long soarable ridge with several other pilots, a big open area for the kids to play soccer, catch bugs, and hang out. We didn't have as much time there as we'd have liked (I could have happily stayed all day), but still we had plenty of time to soak up the sunshine, the wildflowers, and the fresh wild scents of the wind.

And this, ladies and gents, is why I married My Man. I would never think something like this was a good idea--too stressful and risky to even think about squeezing in an outing like this the day of a flight, especially without packing first--but because I married an optimistic, spontaneous, carefree man (and because he's slowly but surely wearing off on me), we did go and we had a great time, made some awesome memories, and got back in plenty of time for My Man to pack and catch his flight.

My Big Fat Greek Adventure Part 3: Poseidon's Temple

Our trip to Greece was Funny Guy's dream come true.  An avid Rick Riordan fan, he couldn't wait to see all of the places of the myths in the books in real life.  One of the places he begged to go was Poseidon's Temple.  Just about an hour's drive from Athens, it looked like a spot worth seeing.  We added it to the itinerary for the evening of our last day in Athens.

Unfortunately, I did that thing I normally do when I'm in charge of itineraries--I got antsy and nagged My Man into leaving too early.  I didn't want to risk missing the sunset!  We ended up arriving about 2 hours too early.  Oops.

The temple was beautiful, perched out on the end of a promontory overlooking the ocean.  But it was windy, super windy, and cold.  We walked around, got a bunch of great pictures, and started to freeze.  Still an hour and a half until sunset.

We ate a picnic dinner, took some more pictures, and froze some more.  We listened to Funny Guy tell us all the stories about Poseidon he could think of.  I explained the history of the place (the earliest ruins date from the Bronze Age but the temple standing now was erected in the 5th century BC).

Finally, the kids were done.  Granted, it had been a long day.  We'd already walked all over Athens, hitting the Agora, Mars Hill, and Zeus's Temple.  I was almost ready to side with them, but I'd heard that the sunset was magical.  Would it really be worth waiting for?  My Man thought so.  The kids didn't.  I wavered (it was really cold).  Finally we compromised, the kids hung out in the car, out of the wind, chilling with books and mp3 players.  My Man and I hung around at the temple, waiting for the magic of sunset.

And then it came.  And it was unbelievable how the light and color of the sunset transformed the temple into something holy.  "The kids are missing this!" I fretted to My Man.  "It will give them something to come back for when they are old enough to appreciate it," he answered.  I thought about running down to the car to get them, but I worried the park rangers wouldn't let me back up (it officially closes at sunset and they were already eyeing their watches, ready to start herding the photographers out.  Plus, I just couldn't pry my eyes away from the magical scene in front of me, which seemed to get better with each passing moment.

Probably, if you weren't there, with the wind in your face and the hugeness of the world and the ocean and sky falling away around you, these pictures won't wow you the way they still wow me.  But if you ever get the chance to visit Poseidon's Temple, bring a jacket (just in case, even if all your friends who just visited Greece the week before said they sweated though every minute of every day), and a camera, and prepare to be amazed.

Unfortunately, even though I could have stared and stared forever, the rangers decided at this point that the show was over and started (almost physically) pushing us out.  We'd walk a few steps, turn and stare, catch their pointed looks, and turn around for a few more steps, before pausing to catch one more look.  Some things are just too beautiful.