Freedom

Today of all days, freedom is in the front of our minds. We think of the armed forces with gratitude and remember family members who played a part in the liberation of our nation. Most even think how lucky they are to live in a country where they feel safe.

This Memorial Day I'm forced to look at things a little differently. We're not outside ushering in Summer with a BBQ or attending main street parades. Today I'm in Sao Paulo, Brazil and it's just Monday. We're entering into Fall and aren't allowed to have a grill on our terrace. The sun is shining and I can hear the kids at the school behind my apartment playing on recess.

If I get up and look outside, I can even see them. I can see them over the razor wire topped wall that surrounds their school and almost every school I've seen. This is not a country where people feel safe.

We also live in a walled complex, as does almost every Brazilian with the means to afford it. Here, it's not a strong military and a government that keeps you safe, it's money and the fortresses it allows you to build. When David's company was helping us to find a place to live in Sao Paulo, they wouldn't lease us a house in the city. A house in the city means less security between and the crime. At the time, I was resentful we couldn't have a backyard, but I've since come to be grateful for my walled, patrolled, 24 hour security building. I sleep at night feeling safe.

But I don't live every day feeling free. Like a war zone, you never know where the next attack may happen or who the enemy is. People are mugged every day at gunpoint, car windows are broken out at stop lights, and everyone is a target. I used to love my morning runs in the States, but here I've gotten used to the monotony of the treadmill. Every move I make outside my complex is thought out. Which lane I drive in, if I'm first in the line at the stoplight, where I park in the secured lots. I made the mistake of parking near the bus stop is the other day at the mall and realized I had increased my chances of being a victim.

When people ask how we like Brazil, we all answer positively except for Aidan. He, more than any of us is feeling his loss of freedom the most. He can't run the neighborhood like he used to. He really can't even hang out around the apartment complex due to strict rules. This city is not a fun place for a blond, 9 year old boy who needs to explore. Fortunately children aren't typically targets here. They usually don't carry much of value for these criminals looking for a quick buck.

I remember watching news coverage of the Iraq war and being amazed that people were still going about their business with bombs exploding in the distance. Now I get it. You build up an immunity to the danger and it starts to feel normal. Expats say the first trip back to the States is the hardest, because it's the first time you realize how much energy all that "paying attention" takes.

Well today I have a wicked head cold and I'm not quite my sharp self, so even though we need eggs and bread, we'll do without until tomorrow when my brain is clearer. It's just not smart to put yourself out there when you're not focussing with all cylinders. This is a day when that hired driver would come in handy. Or maybe the driver and the body guard like many Brazilians have.

So as you enjoy your three day weekend, I hope you'll take a minute to enjoy your freedom today, even if it's just the freedom to drive yourself around with your windows rolled down. There are many places in this world where even that is a privilege. Feel the wind on your face and appreciate living in the USA.

Home Sweet Home

Thank God it's Friday the 13th and the close to a very pivotal week here in Brazil.

After full terminals, missing paperwork, bad translations, and even a truckers strike, we are finally getting our shipment on Monday. We were told from the beginning it would take a 2-4 months and Monday will be close to 5. The waiting has been more difficult lately, only because we were given false hope around Easter that our delivery would happen within the week. Every week since has been agony.

Needless to say, this weekend will drag by and the echo of the empty apartment will be deafening. To say it will be like Christmas is an understatement, as we have mostly forgot what we own and what it looks like. Every unwrapped item will be a little surprise and one step closer to making this place feel like home.

In all its' emptiness, I've come to appreciate this place more than any other I've lived in. I know every blemish on it's granite floors, every scratch in the wood and every nick on the bare white walls. We've been very happy here in the emptiness. I imagine we'll love it filled with our things. More importantly, we'll love it filled with our friends. It's been a little hard to entertain with 3 plates and a love seat. My first priority is hosting Happy Hour. Then our "house" will really feel like home.

Which brings me to our next big news. After a month long negotiation, long distance I might add, we secured a deal on a cottage in White Lake, MI, very near to where I grew up. Yes, we can now say we have a vacation home. Not only did we buy a house, we bought a house we have never seen other than in pictures. We fought to buy the house from the owners, who seemed to discourage us at every turn, but we really wanted the house. This is why.

When you move around like we do, you divide your memories amongst many different addresses. Family traditions have to change, Christmases are sometimes spent in hotel rooms, vacations are a series of different beds every few nights and memories get scattered on the map. I don't want that for our kids. I want traditions to stay the same, the reassurance that Santa knows where they are (and there's a chimney he can get down) and a comfortable room that feels familiar when home is far away.

When we realized we could do this for our family, we set out to find that perfect place to call our "home away from home". We never expected to buy a place sight unseen, but something told us we couldn't let this place go.

When the kids and I arrive in June, we will see it for the first time. A couple of days later, we'll hang our hats in our new place. It too will be empty for a while and I'll probably have time to appreciate it's flaws before they're buried in things. I can't wait to spend the summer making memories, traditions that'll be repeated every summer, and planning where we'll put the Christmas tree come December.

It will be the place we always come back to, our permanent "Home Sweet Home".

Oh and it's yellow (bright yellow inside and out), built in 1952, and it has a view, a lake view! I can't wait to put my feet in!

"Hey...No cuts"

Have you ever been in line for something? A really long line that you've been standing in a really long time, for something that is very important to you? And then someone who just walks in the door cuts in front? And gets that "something" before you? That "something" you've been waiting patiently for is now one more person away.

That "something" is actually everything, everything we own that is sitting in customs in Santos, Brazil. We arrived at our empty apartment on December 30th, our shipment landed on Brazilian soil on February 22nd where it has been sitting ever since. That in itself isn't the frustrating part. It's the knowledge the many others have arrived well after us and have received their belongings weeks ago. Why is that? It's because they've taken cuts. Well it's really because the customs officials have taken cuts (or bribes) from these families respective companies which have jumped their clearance process in front of us.

As I type this, I'm sitting on the rental love seat, in my very empty living room, waiting for the kids to get home from school. Where we used to have restrictions on electronic time, I now let them play on their ipads as long as they want, surf the web until there eyes cross, and make huge messes with paper, glue and markers- anything to keep them happy. We have even succumbed to a family bed. We moved Camryn's twin bed to the living room so we have more places to sit and watch the one TV we have. Camryn then started sleeping with me in the very uncomfortable rental bed. Then David (the insomniac) started sleeping on Camryn's living room bed so he could have the TV put him to sleep. Aidan, feeling completely left out, started crawling into bed with Camryn and I to read at night and I didn't have the heart to send him back to his empty room, so there he stayed.

Our routines, rules, and habits have completely morphed into survival mode at this point. There are nights I let the kids have ice cream for dinner, because they're tired of eating what I can cook with my limited utensils and I'm sick of cooking too.

My favorite phrase now is "When we get our shipment....." followed by threats, promises, and plans for the future. Every day, I think I'm going to get the call that we have been cleared for delivery, but I usually just meet someone else who has taken cuts in front of me.

One positive side to all this...I'm amazed at how little we really need to get by. I even see that life is possible without a clothes dryer and our clothes seem to look better without one. If I would have known it would be this long, I would have carried a crock pot on the plane. It's my current "I'm missing it most" item. Everyday I marvel at how entertaining a pack of computer paper can be when it's all you have to work with.

And biggest realization of all, the value of a room with a view. Even with very little inside, there isn't a day that isn't filled with the beautiful life of the city as seen from our windows. And maybe some day soon, I'll see a moving truck pull up out front. Until then, there's always the art of origami. Maybe we can make a couple of chairs out of paper.