Adventures with Duffy

Duffy is the class teddy bear in Liesel's Kindergarten class. He's originally from Disneyworld and each student gets to take him home for a week during the school year. Duffy even shows up in the class photo. He has a little duffel bag with his pajamas and he has a journal where students can either draw or post pictures about their time with him. In Kindergarten terms, it's kind of a big deal when it's your turn.

Liesel's turn rolled around and I was still in a haze of post-South-Africa-getting-my-act-togetherness. I flipped through the journal and my heart sank when I saw that Duffy has been on family vacations around the country. He's been to the Wisconsin Dells. He's been to the top of the Sears Tower. He's been camping and fishing and he's been on a go cart. Duffy has eaten at many fine restaurants, seen many, many movies and gone to just about every kid-friendly venue in all of Iowa City. I could think of nothing that would make Liesel's time with Duffy special and unique.

First Liesel took him out to swing in the backyard:

Then she wrote his name in chalk on the deck:

Next she took him to play in her coloring castle:

Since it's March, Duffy checked his brackets:

Just when I'd resigned myself to being the super lame-o mom (although I give myself props for including the tiny basketball in that last photo), Liesel begged to take Duffy with her to dance. Normally I'd say no but I was feeling bad about Liesel's time with him and figured it couldn't hurt. Then one of her fellow dancers recognized Duffy from when she was in Kindergarten.

Then I remembered the girls were working on their dance routine which uses *drumroll* teddy bears as props! Liesel's teacher was perfectly happy to let her use Duffy. Ah YES! No one else in the class had ever taken Duffy to dance class. Liesel's journal page wasn't going to be so lame after all.

Liesel and I both slept happily knowing Duffy had a good time at our house.

Phew!

Pretty Ballerinas

In a blue-moon, lightning strikes twice, flawless diamond kind of day, the girls were fed, bathed, dressed and ready for dance early enough, I could catch a quick photo.

I'm glad I was able to capture them like this before time slipped through my fingers yet again.

Jet Lag

The girls and I fell on our faces early last night. Somewhere between picking them up from school and making dinner, the exhaustion set in. I mean, really set in. I robotically made it through the evening routine but by 5 PM, I was falling asleep on my feet. Brent tells me he nodded off riding the train and missed his stop. Everyone was in bed by 6 and as if by magic, everyone woke up right at 1 AM.

Sydney was vociferously cooing and clutching her tiny feet. Brigitta was calling from the crib, "Up? Up?" Yes my love, we are all up. My chidings to go back to bed were met with, "But I'm not tired!" After staring at the ceiling for an hour, I have to agree. The babies (who sleep somewhat round the clock) seem to be handling the jet lag the best. For the rest of us, I suppose we'll stay up for a few hours and try again to sleep after that. In the meantime, I'm going to have a bit of red velvet cake-flavored yogurt and try to wrap my brain around the amazing adventures we've had abroad.

Yesterday Brent was looking out one of the master bedroom windows and he said, "It looks different out there." As I came to the window to see what he meant, he added, "I mean it's the same, but it looks different." And it does. Our travels have made such an impression on us, our perspective has permanently changed. After a glimpse of true poverty, I don't know that I'll ever flippantly say, "I'm starving! Let's get something to eat..." After visiting the orphanage, I'll think twice when I'm frustrated with the girls and threaten to sell them down the river. After being in a country that only recently saw the end of apartheid, I don't know that I'll ever view racism the same way again.

In the coming days as I work to readjust my circadian rhythms, and I find myself at the computer in the early morning hours, I will try to describe all we experienced. However, I must warn you that sometimes there are just no words.

Heathrow to O'Hare

Our saving grace on this last flight was that it had 140 open seats. Everyone had their own row. Liesel and Ireland were delighted to each get a window seat and then stretch out and properly lie down when the lights went out. It more than made up for the lack of in-flight entertainment options. Brigitta had one last meltdown before takeoff. The poor girl had never flown in her life up until now, and just didn't understand why she had to be strapped down and uncomfortable for hours on end. I took her to the back of the plane to pace with her until she calmed. The airline attendants let me know they were all mothers and completely understood. They had one cot which was enough to get Brigitta to sleep for almost the entire flight. I stretched out over 3 seats and for the first time in this journey, really slept on the plane.

Finally we landed in Chicago. Border control welcomed us home. We still had the drive back to Iowa City but it was a cake walk compared to those long flights. I'm glad I scrubbed the house from top to bottom because it was lovely to walk into a tidy house and just sink into our beds. 

Of everything I learned in our travels it is that I am so grateful to be an American. Our country has many, many flaws, but I think we get it right more often than we get it wrong. For the time being, this trip sated my wanderlust and who knows when I will again crave to explore parts unknown. Although it was a challenge-- financially, logistically, physically-- to take the entire family, I'm glad we experienced it all together. Seeing each one of them in a completely different setting reminded me how very much I love them.

We did it!

London (Again)

At the top of my absolutely-has-to-happen-no-matter-what list of London to-do's was a trip to King's Cross station to see the fabled Platform 9 3/4. When I researched it online, I saw they created a trolley sticking out of the wall for tourists, but apparently they've stepped up their game. The trolley now has some luggage and a little Hedwig on it. They also offer an option of 4 scarves for the houses of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin not to mention Harry Potter specs and a wand. Someone stands just off camera and flicks the scarf into the air while you jump to catch the perfect picture. The best part? You can stand to the side as well and take as many pictures as you want alongside the official photographer. Even so, I had to flip for the photos of Liesel and Ireland.

I sent Ireland to preschool with this photo and one of the teachers out and out told me she was completely jealous.

Brigitta loved the Harry Potter specs.

Even Sydney seemed to enjoy the experience!

I completely geeked out over the shop where we purchased the photos. 

Especially the wall full of wands. I could have dropped a wad of money on the stuff in that shop but I could only take what would fit in our backpacks. I had other shopping I wanted to do, so I just stuck to the photos.

We stopped for lunch at another pub and had fish and chips. Just a couple of doors down was a shop that sold authentic Irish linens and I nabbed handkerchiefs for the family. I will forever be grateful to the kind shopkeeper who insisted I let Brigitta and Ireland run around and explore the shop. 

I had also hoped to pick up a Pippa bag but couldn't find one I truly loved. My sweet so sweet husband agreed to let me buy one online. We'd hoped to do the London Eye but Liesel and Ireland were at each other's throats. Brigitta was having meltdown after meltdown. The London "hospitality" wasn't helping either. We decided to head back to the airport. During the train ride, Ireland entertained herself by spinning around one of the poles like a stripper in training. People gave us looks but to be quite frank, I didn't care about their good opinion anymore.

One thing we learned in our travels is that security varies from airport to airport and even from officer to officer. When we went through Heathrow en route to South Africa, we had a bottle but they just asked us to have one of the girls take a tug and we were good to go. Little Brigitta was mid-bottle when they demanded it from her for testing. I took all the kids and sat on a bench to the side while Brent waited to gather backpacks and get the bottle back. 

Brigitta went into a full-scale meltdown without that bottle. She was absolutely screaming and straining in her stroller. The poor girl was exhausted from the little sleep she'd gotten on the flight and then a day of running around London which was cold and encountering people who were equally as cold. Her only comfort was that bottle and they'd taken it away from her. I tried to soothe her, promising we'd get the bottle back, and stroking her face and hair. Then my own exhaustion set in and I felt my cheeks grow hot and the tears spilled down my face. 

"It's ok, it's ok, it's ok" I frantically begged Brigitta to calm down but she only screamed louder. Liesel and Ireland's bickering abruptly stopped and even Sydney was stunned into silence as the mother holding her lost it. And I mean I LOST IT!!! I can't remember the last time I have cried like that, but I have no doubt everyone was staring at us. When Brent realized what was going on, he raced to get me that bottle. While Brigitta finally settled as she polished it off, I tried to compose myself. One of the security guards approached me, "Are you ok, Love?" I lied and told him I was fine and he offered to get me some water. All I wanted was to not be there. Brent finally gathered everything and I numbly followed him through the airport. We didn't speak, and I walked with my head down so no one would see my face which was now red and puffy from crying.

Turns out, Brent had noticed a sign for a family room and thought it would be a good idea to decompress there. There was a play area and a tv with kiddie shows and lots of activities like coloring. We changed diapers and the little ones played while I didn't utter a word. I just wanted to either be back in South Africa or home already. Finally, it was time to board and we made our way to the gate.

Signs

We encountered many interesting signs in our travels. Here are a few we captured in photo:

Why thank you!

Wise words.

I'm not sure if the wavy words are on purpose or if they ran out of room. It's a lovely thought nonetheless.

At the Nwenya Glass Factory. Haggling is standard in some places and not in others.

I've never thought of Brent as crude...

Do you think Moola is someone's name? If so, does he worx hard?

A beautiful prayer on the wall of the school where the Alexandra branch meets.

Brent was amused to see not stealing for each other is against the rules. I guess if you're going to steal, do it for yourself?

Another lovely thought found at the school.

This guy isn't making the compelling argument he thinks he is. Another beggar had a sign that read, "I keep this corner clean and crime-free." I'd rather give to someone like that!

At the Swaziland border. So sad.

Also at the Swazi border. Also sad.

Notice the footprints at on the floor in front of the urinal? See what the sign says below: 

Be honest gentleman, isn't is always shorter than you think?

Perhaps that sign makes more sense when you see this one. These are everywhere in Johannesburg. Everywhere.

Also all over Johannesburg.

There's Schindler's List and then there's Schindler Lifts

Interesting name for a driving school

Apparently using the sink to wash your feet is a problem at Heathrow

OR Tambo to Heathrow

After configuring and re-configuring luggage, getting everyone bathed and in clean pajamas, and taking one last, long look at the flat that had become our home, we headed to the airport. I wish I could say we were ready to go back to the States, but the truth is South Africa had somehow become a part of us. Natives of the country have a saying, "We are not born in Africa but Africa is born in us." By now, Africa had definitely been born in us. Going home was like leaving part of ourselves behind.

By now the girls were very aware international travel means standing in a lot of line. Once luggage was checked and our seats were sorted, we caught up with Dad who had parked the van and said our goodbyes. 

Mom and Dad fairly exhausted themselves hosting us and making sure our trip was nothing short of magical. It was so hard to say goodbye, but I left with a testimony that they are where they need to be. As difficult as life can be taking care of their house, it is WELL worth it! I'm happy and proud to support them as missionaries. They couldn't have been more generous and grateful to us. 

After lots of hugs and kisses, we had taken no more than a dozen steps toward security when everything hit Liesel and she burst into tears. "I'm going to miss those guys!" she sobbed. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. She sobbed right up to our gate and I wasn't going to hush her, because she was only expressing what I felt in my heart. People looked at her quizzically and then looked to me for an explanation. "She just said goodbye to her grandparents" I'd offer and they'd frownsmile at her with a big, "Ohhhhhh!" This would all send Liesel into another round of sobbing. 

Apparently it was no easier on my parent's end. I received the following email from my mother:

We started missing you...

1. When we pulled out of the airport parking lot and no little voice said, "I want to sit in the front seat with Grandpa and a Grandma!"
2. When we arrived at the parking garage of Duke's Court and Boningkosi peered into the van and said, "Where is your family?" When we told him we had just seen you off at the airport he said, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. Did they enjoy their time here?" and we assured him that you did. 
3. When we arrived inside Duke's Court and nobody was excited to push the lift button; even Gita used to point and said, "Two!"
4. When we walked to our flat and nobody was thrilled to get the the keys to open the gate and door. 
5. When we opened the door and went inside to... nothing! That's when we missed you all the most!

However, we have our wonderful memories to keep us smiling. We haven't stopped talking about how much fun we had, and how impressed we were at how quickly you "got it," and understood what we love about all of this.

Our gate was changed and we were moved to one that had this sign over it. It was the perfect bookend to our journey.

You know it's going to be a rough plane ride when it begins with the airline attendants walking up and down the aisles with bug spray before takeoff. Granted, I never saw any bugs, but this was definitely not one of the shiny, new planes we were accustom to. Thankfully, the girls still each had their own screen with an array of movie options to keep them occupied. 

Everyone managed to sleep a bit (including me!) during this flight and we managed to make it to London in one piece.

Fornos and Mandela Square

Amazingly, Mom and Dad had yet another amazing restaurant to take us to before we left South Africa. Fornos is sort of like Panera with all the fresh baked goods. 

Not to be confused with Budweiser, Grapetiser is sparkling grape juice. They also have Appletiser but this was our favorite because it was perky and refreshing and oh how we miss it!

 Breakfast was insanely delicious. By now I trusted Mom and Dad's suggestions and this is what I ordered. It's a crepe with a poached egg, ham and mushrooms with a cheese sauce. Oh. My. YUM!!!

After breakfast we headed to Mandela Square which is in a shopping mall. This statue is huge! It's a giant of a statue for a giant of a man and his influence over the world.

I'm not real sure what happened to the sign but it looks like one of the lights got a bit too hot and melted off some of the letters?

The square itself is just lovely with the courtyard and fountain.

Let's look at that banner a bit more closely with those oh so wise words:

This picture cracks me up because the statue was so tall, Mom had to use the panorama feature on my iPhone camera. Apparently Ireland was moving around a lot, because her head is almost disconnected from her body.

This one's a little better although Ireland's squirmed right out of the picture. We couldn't spend too long taking photos because there were other people queuing up for their turn.

We originally planned to drive by Mandela's estate, but Dad wasn't feeling well, I had a bit of last-minute shopping to do, and we needed to get packing (literally!). I'm really glad we had the chance to visit Mandela Square though. Although he has passed on, he is everywhere in South Africa... especially in the hearts of his people.