Life in the Bubble

My lovely husband came home midday and took me to lunch the UN. They have some seriously good food by local standards - even if dealing with other pedestrians on the way to the cafeteria is a confusing dance of which side of the sidewalk to tread (international driving rules...right or left?).

After lunch, I dropped him at the Embassy and took the car home. Not 2 minutes after coming in the door, the house phone rang. It's one of the guards from the Embassy.

Guard: Hello, do you know if Andrew is having any food delivered?
Me: (thinking, although we sometimes have home delivery of veggies, it's never on a Monday) Not that I know of...
Guard: I understand he has just driven home; but there is someone here at the Embassy with food.
Me: That we me driving home, we just went to lunch. I don't think the food is for him.
Guard: Ok, it must be another Andrew then, thank you.

Big Brother, anyone?

Interchangeable parts

We had the next-door neighbors over for dinner. Their young child says to me, "Our house is just like this one, except that it has a Mickey Mouse puzzle instead of a Star Wars puzzle."

Trying not to be too existential about that...

Sports Day

Something about kids cheering for other kids just puts a smile on my face. Today was Rosslyn Academy's annual sports day - a first of its kind for our kindergartner, and us parents got to watch "teams" across the grades band together. Those Montessori schools we've been going to, prior to now, have a "big day out" at a historic organic farm, or plan major events where children line up in front of parents, sing lovely songs wearing photogenic outfits, and everyone sedately munches Whole Foods veggie platters and homemade ethnic snacks until the parents are kindly shuffled out the door.

Not so at Rosslyn! OK, our biggest school previously went only up to 4th grade and had less than 50 students. We have just experienced the entire middle and elementary schools out on the track - shouting their cheers (my vocal chords are shot -- Go Red Team!), lining up heats - Kindergarten through third grade - older kids on another field, girls then boys, siblings running all over, I would be shocked if my own kid heard a word of instruction that was directed at her (Kiddo! That person up there is talking to YOU! Pay attention!). Every few minutes a responsible adult turned around to ask, where is so-and-so?... and in short order an energetic youth was sent off on a scouting mission - always returning successful, I might add.
The littlest ones ran the 50m and 100m, and had the option to run the 400m. Well, one goes, they all go, so they all ran it, and I think shocked their PE coach out of her shoes. The school did not happen to mention in all the papers that went home that the parents should be sure to have their running shoes on: Between the starting line, the jumping and shouting, the finish line, and the zig-zag across the infield, it was quite a workout. When my kiddo saw me cheering for her toward the end of her very long lap, she swerved right off the track so she could collapse my feet. Oh ho! I swooped and grabbed her arm, dragged her back out there, and we finished together. In fact, a significant number of parents joined in the race with their flagging kiddos. How great is that?

The last "event" for our kids was play time in the pool. Perhaps a woman has not well and truly experienced motherhood until she goes into a 12 x 16 ft changing room with at least 60 girls, half of whom are dripping wet, all changing clothes, horsing around, being goofy, loud, or upset, all at the same time. I was speechless. The kiddo left her backpack in there, and I tried to send her in to bring it back out (how would we ever find it otherwise?), and she blurted "I can't go back in there!!!!" I see her point.

At any rate, hats off to the amazing staff at Rosslyn. The level of dedication, organization, patience, and pure good-heartedness that it took to carry that off was deeply impressive. Thank you.

Night night

As he's climbing into bed after locking the safe-haven gate, Andrew says, "If I'm ever thrown in prison the sound of lock-up will feel like home."

My dad, looking at zebras, with Lake Naivasha just beyond. Just another weekend in Nairobi.

My parents came out for 3 weeks at Christmas, and we had a great time while they saved my tukus once again on the child care front. Swimming, endless games of pretend, computer games, books, the park, they really wore her out.

A couple months ago the kiddo came home from school with her weekly journal, where she had noted that mommy went to the track over the weekend (lovely picture too). I exclaimed to dearest hubby: "We took that child on safari [any self-drive in these parts is stress inducing] and she writes about me going for a jog???"
He answers, "Really, which is more unusual?"
Ouch.

Blonde moment

Here's a way to get someone in Nairobi to look at you like you have two heads...

Me: I left my shopping bag on the table outside. Has anyone turned it in to you?

Shopkeeper: (speechless)

Whoever you are, I hope you like my purchases.

This is new

Andrew went rock climbing with a neighbor for his New Year's day off. You've gotta watch out for that baboon pee, it makes the rocks slippery.