The counter clerk at the US Embassy dispenses with the case at hand and picks up another pink folder from his stack. I'm watching from across the crowded waiting room, eager for our pink folder to reach the top of the pile.
He pulls out a badly damaged US passport and flips through the warped, delaminated pages. I lean into Jack and giggle, "It looks like it went through the washing machine." The clerk shows it to his colleague. An object of intrigue. Then he calls a young man to his window, a US college student here for a year abroad. "Yeah," he says, "I forgot to take it out of my pocket and it went through the wash." He stuffs his new passport application under the window. The clerk asks why he hasn't completed the form. "I can't remember my parents' birthdates, so I left them blank." He cannot apply for a new passport without a completed form, but the Embassy clerk is very agreeable and asks the student, "Would you like to call them right now?" How utterly refreshing, such a simple solution to a problem. "Sure." The student tells the clerk his mother's phone number, the clerk dials, and lets the younger man around the counter to talk to his mom. My heart aches for her.
2 a.m. in Salt Lake City. The phone wakes her, heart pounding. "Hello, this is the US Embassy in Madrid." She is nearly in cardiac arrest now. "I have your son here." She thanks God that he is alive though the panic hasn't subsided. She will feel the weight that moment for the next several days. The clerk hands the phone to our young college friend who was careless with his laundry last Saturday morning after a long night out in the bars of Madrid. "Hey, mom. I need your birthdate...."
I squeeze Jack's hand as we share a glimpse into the grand journey ahead.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Damn theives
It's been a bad week on the pickpocket scene for Jack. Last week his Blackberry was pinched from his backpack despite vigilant measures.
And here's an irony - this week we finally had our appointment to extend our visas for the remainder of the year. It's been a long and unpleasant haul trying to get these visas. Most people we talked to said to forget the visas and just roll the dice. But we have followed every painful step to get our visas above board. After the appointment we went out for lunch to celebrate with Ysabel, who was there as our Spanish speaking advocate. It all seemed realively easy.
Until Jack's passport was stolen on the way home.
Now we begin the passport replacement, damage control, etc.
Another day. Another adventure.
We are reminding ourselves that your happiness in life depends entirely on how you choose to respond to what life throws at you.
Police report filed. Appointment at embassy already made. Photocopies of everything on file.
We just have to get that replacement passport before December 1 when we airline tickets to escape for a couple of days. I've been bribing the kids with the days out of school for a couple weeks now. Can't miss that. I think we'll be good to go.
I've got apples baking in the oven, the apartment smells wonderful, and everyone is healthy. Amen.
PS - NEVER have anything in your pockets on the Metro.
And here's an irony - this week we finally had our appointment to extend our visas for the remainder of the year. It's been a long and unpleasant haul trying to get these visas. Most people we talked to said to forget the visas and just roll the dice. But we have followed every painful step to get our visas above board. After the appointment we went out for lunch to celebrate with Ysabel, who was there as our Spanish speaking advocate. It all seemed realively easy.
Until Jack's passport was stolen on the way home.
Now we begin the passport replacement, damage control, etc.
Another day. Another adventure.
We are reminding ourselves that your happiness in life depends entirely on how you choose to respond to what life throws at you.
Police report filed. Appointment at embassy already made. Photocopies of everything on file.
We just have to get that replacement passport before December 1 when we airline tickets to escape for a couple of days. I've been bribing the kids with the days out of school for a couple weeks now. Can't miss that. I think we'll be good to go.
I've got apples baking in the oven, the apartment smells wonderful, and everyone is healthy. Amen.
PS - NEVER have anything in your pockets on the Metro.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Something's happening here
Friday the 13th is nothing special in Spain. It's Tuesday the 13th that is bad luck here. It must have been one of those opposite day kind of things. Remember those from when you were a kid? Because Friday the 13th was a magic day for me.
I got up, turned the TV on, and sat down on the worn out couch in my stripey pajamas with my coffee to watch the news. Up until now, that's what I did, just pretty much watched and heard noise. But on Friday, I heard words. I sat transfixed. I heard words coming out of the mouth of the weather woman. I heard rain and sun, and I laughed realizing that she was speaking absolute drivel. Why was I assuming that just because I couldn't understand her that she was witty? The sports guy came on and I heard more words. I hollered to the rest of the family. "Something’s happening in here! I CAN HEAR WORDS!"
This must have happened to everyone else earlier, and maybe they aren't as excitable as I am. (Claro.) Apparently they have been hearing words, sentences, ideas for some time now. But for me, it's just starting to happen. (Other than, of course, the predictable or ridiculously simple, repetitious, boring conversations we've been having since we got here.)
I don't hear complete sentences. But just hearing separate words spoken at breakneck Madrileño speed is a joy.
Tia keeps telling me I'm on a predictable path. It's just that I haven't been seeing many of the landmarks. But perhaps they are out there after all. When I look at myself, it's like watching the kids learn to walk. But painfully slowly.
The kids are having noticeable breakthroughs too. Anna is in a watch-and-absorb mode, still not sure how to push all the jumble in her head out of her mouth. But you can see it simmering. You can see the light flickering in her eyes as she develops confidence. She delights in joking with school mates and being the one to interpret for me when scheduling an appointment with the plumber.
And Alex. Well it's difficult to shut that kid up. He pretty much assumes the lead all the time, whether we want him to or not. The conversations are simple, but fluid. He rattles off conversations with bartenders, Jack's compañerios de trabajo, the Chinese students in his class, the regulars down in the Dia Zone. Heck, if you know that boy, you know he talks to everyone. And a limited vocabulary is not going to slow him down; he just works around it.
Jack's been our fearless leader since we arrived. Out in front solving problems. Lacking self consciousness and able to get things done in a way that constantly surprises me. I simply don’t know how he does it.
I've been the one in the rear on this linguistic journey. But, I'm starting to enjoy the ride. Not always. I still have daily Spanish flashes (embarrassment-induced hot flashes). But, I have a smile on my face a little more often.
Today Anna's teachers told me how great she was doing. I walked home with that feeling you get after it rains in Nevada. The air is filled with the smell of desert sage that you breathe deeply. It gives you the sense that everything will be alright.
Está bien. Si, todo está bien.
I got up, turned the TV on, and sat down on the worn out couch in my stripey pajamas with my coffee to watch the news. Up until now, that's what I did, just pretty much watched and heard noise. But on Friday, I heard words. I sat transfixed. I heard words coming out of the mouth of the weather woman. I heard rain and sun, and I laughed realizing that she was speaking absolute drivel. Why was I assuming that just because I couldn't understand her that she was witty? The sports guy came on and I heard more words. I hollered to the rest of the family. "Something’s happening in here! I CAN HEAR WORDS!"
This must have happened to everyone else earlier, and maybe they aren't as excitable as I am. (Claro.) Apparently they have been hearing words, sentences, ideas for some time now. But for me, it's just starting to happen. (Other than, of course, the predictable or ridiculously simple, repetitious, boring conversations we've been having since we got here.)
I don't hear complete sentences. But just hearing separate words spoken at breakneck Madrileño speed is a joy.
Tia keeps telling me I'm on a predictable path. It's just that I haven't been seeing many of the landmarks. But perhaps they are out there after all. When I look at myself, it's like watching the kids learn to walk. But painfully slowly.
The kids are having noticeable breakthroughs too. Anna is in a watch-and-absorb mode, still not sure how to push all the jumble in her head out of her mouth. But you can see it simmering. You can see the light flickering in her eyes as she develops confidence. She delights in joking with school mates and being the one to interpret for me when scheduling an appointment with the plumber.
And Alex. Well it's difficult to shut that kid up. He pretty much assumes the lead all the time, whether we want him to or not. The conversations are simple, but fluid. He rattles off conversations with bartenders, Jack's compañerios de trabajo, the Chinese students in his class, the regulars down in the Dia Zone. Heck, if you know that boy, you know he talks to everyone. And a limited vocabulary is not going to slow him down; he just works around it.
Jack's been our fearless leader since we arrived. Out in front solving problems. Lacking self consciousness and able to get things done in a way that constantly surprises me. I simply don’t know how he does it.
I've been the one in the rear on this linguistic journey. But, I'm starting to enjoy the ride. Not always. I still have daily Spanish flashes (embarrassment-induced hot flashes). But, I have a smile on my face a little more often.
Today Anna's teachers told me how great she was doing. I walked home with that feeling you get after it rains in Nevada. The air is filled with the smell of desert sage that you breathe deeply. It gives you the sense that everything will be alright.
Está bien. Si, todo está bien.
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