I have an award

Wife in Hong Kong has given me an award. She is a proper expat. Goes to parties where people wear Dior dresses, holidays in exotic locations. I'm sure she says things like "the sun's over the yardarm", whilst I am more likely to say "the sun's over the back yard". But she also talks of the loneliness of the early weeks, the disorientating way everyone else seems to know what is going on, the angst of watching children struggling to adjust... normal expat fodder.


I've abbreviated the blurb a little, because I'm a bit shy of these things. The heart of it is this: This award focuses not on the glory and fanfare of blogging, but in the PROXIMITY to one another through this online-world. This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY--nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement!

This is obviously hogwash as I am totally interested in both prizes and self-aggrandizement (although I'd rather it was spelt with an 's' - aggrandizement that is, not prizes). And as for 'the glory and fanfare of blogging', well, I'd definitely be going for a slice of that, if only I knew where to find it.

Proximity. Yes. I have found lots of that through blogging, though not 'in space, time and relationships'. Proximity of experience. The feeling that if I type some mad thought and send it out there, someone, some lovely person, will write a comment saying "ooh, I know just what you mean". And if I am blog-browsing, I never have to roam far before I find a description of an event that has happened to me, or a reflection, or a feeling, beautifully crafted into words better than my own could have been.

Proximity over great distance. That is exactly what blogging is all about for me, and let me tell you, when you are transported to another continent and expected to make sense of the experience, blogging is gold dust.

There are, of course, a dillion people who I could pass the award on to. I'm going to choose Potty Mummy and Reluctant Memsahib, because one day, one glorious day, we are going to put proximity into action, and come together from three different continents to meet for tea and cakes at Patisserie Valerie on Marylebone High Street. It's not an exclusive occasion. Anyone can join us - in the future reality, or in the current anticipation (which actually, I suspect is just as good).

And Rotten Correspondent, because she and I have just found out that last year, we were in the same city for a week-end, and we didn't know it. We could have met. In real life. Physical proximity: it's no good unless you know about it at the time.

I have a question

All the excitement that the world has been feeling on Obama's inauguration day has got me thinking. I have a question for you. Now, it's not meant to be making clever comparisons, or drawing parallels, or grinding an axe or anything like that, so please don't get all upset with me. It's just something I've been pondering, and I would be interested to know what you all think, on both sides of the Atlantic.

When Margaret Thatcher became the first woman Prime Minister in the UK, there was a sense of excitement, surprise, achievement, history (I don't really remember, but I think there was, although nothing compared to yesterday of course). Women had had the vote only since 1928, fifty years before. My question is this. Did Margaret Thatcher's appointment change life for British women? Do we see ourselves differently? Do we have different ambitions? What about for British men? What about people outside Britain? Has it, three decades down the line, made a difference? Ah, that's more than one question. Alright. Just answer the last one.

My ponderings were extended by this post, on the blog She's not from Yorkshire, which is written by 3 American women living in Yorkshire. I love reading their experiences - the mirror of mine in some ways. I was intrigued to read what they say about feminism in Britain, backed up by other American commenters. I can't decide whether I agree with them or not. What do you all think? (OK then, 2 questions, but you can just stick to the first if you like.)

The inauguration

I have some interesting neighborhood graffiti I'd like to share with you, and a picture of a dinosaur made out of model magic by my 2nd grader, but I feel that these things should be put to one side today, as the world watches Washington DC.

I feel a bit cheated here. There hasn't been much excitement about the inauguration. They did get the kids to watch it at school on tv, but I haven't felt much of the buzz and the awe that seems to be around elsewhere in the world. From what I gather, you're more excited about it in Britain than here in the Midwest. Perhaps I should clarify. I heard Chicago, home of the Obamas in their pre-White House days, described on the radio this morning as "the Midwest", and I bet they're pretty excited about it in Chicago. But oh my goodness me. Chicago? That's not the Midwest. When I say "the Midwest" I mean "the proper Midwest" which is what I believe some people call "the Plains". We're a staunchly Republican state, so maybe that is why I haven't sensed too much excitement about the inauguration. Which is a shame, as elsewhere, if the media is to be believed, Americans of both political persuasions are excited about Obama, at this significant moment in the history of the country. Vision, hope, optimism - these are all words that have been ringing in the ears of anyone watching or reading the media reports. I'm a bit sad it's passed me by.

I'm sorry to disappoint any of you who were hoping for great things from this blog on the inauguration, but I'm just telling it like it is. I'll have to rely on a story from the UK, since there is little of interest to report from here.

A friend of mine tells me she was watching some of the inauguration with her 4 year old daughter. She tried to explain what was going on, and said Barack Obama was probably the most important man in the world. Without a second's hesitation, her daughter asked, "Well, what about Father Christmas?" (That's Santa Claus to my American readers, in case you didn't know.)

Presidential words

Didn't you just love that? At George Bush's last press conference as US President, he told journalists that they had sometimes misunderestimated him.

I have more in common with him that I realised. I often feel misunderestimated too. People have been misundertaken about some of my best misundertakings.

Bloggers are getting younger these days

Soon after I started this blog, and flushed with the excitement of writing, I began to wonder if I could write a book about moving to America. In fact, I gave up the blog (or tried to) for a while, with that in mind. I have to confess I didn’t get very far (and I missed the blog too much to leave it). Let’s be honest, I didn’t actually start. I did talk about it though, and 11-yo liked the idea. He offered to co-write the book with me, and that gave me another idea. Perhaps we could produce a book about the move, written from both perspectives. The mature, wise, reflective story of the adult, interspersed by the fresh, immediate, youthful comments of the child. I thought a publisher might like that.

There’s just one glitch. I’ve not written any of my sections. 11-yo has rather put me to shame. He's written 5,500 words, although he's only got as far as the point at which we arrive in our new city and are met at the airport. We both have some way to go.

I can’t tell you how interesting it has been for me to read his account of events, and to get insights into what it was like for him to be a player in them. I thought you would like to read his work too, so here are the first 500 words or so. I removed real names, and made one factual interjection, but otherwise it is completely unedited. I hope you enjoy the read.

Our family moved overseas from Scotland to America, and I am here to tell you about it.

It all started when I was in primary 4. I got home from school, did the usual things I would do on a Friday afternoon after school, and mum and dad called 5-yo and 2-yo and me into the dining room. 2-yo and 5-yo are my brother and sister. Mum and dad sat us all round our circular table, and told us that we were going to move from our house in Scotland near the sea, all the way over to America, almost as far away from the sea as you can possibly get. It was shocking news at the time to all of us, but also, it was exciting as you could imagine. 5-yo and 2-yo then started asking question after question to mum and dad, some of them unanswerable, but some of them where good questions. They were questions like, “How big is the city?” Or “When are we going?” Those types of questions. So, we had a little chat, and then went back to doing Friday afternoon things, and mum went off to make dinner.

The weekend after we heard the news passed very slowly, because I was very excited about telling everyone about us moving across seas. Of course, at the time, it seemed like a very long time till it actuarially moved, which at the time, was true. It was at least a year and a quarter, if not longer. [It was 6 months. Ed.] So, the weekend slowly went by, doing weekend jobs, watching a bit of TV, and shopping for food, and weekend jobs. Finally, it got to Sunday though, and in the morning we went to church. The Sunday afternoon went by slower that Saturday though.

Finally, after the whole weekend, a whole 48 hours, Monday came. I had never been so excited to go to school in my whole life, and when I got there, it was the same as always, busy, people everywhere, people playing, people lining up to go inside, and so on. We went inside after the bell rang, and we hung up our bags and our coats, bought in our homework and books, and got ready to begin working, but as always, people where standing up and turning in homework, and telling the primary 4 teacher things they want her to know, or telling her things she needs to know, maybe something about homework. That was the chance I had to tell her the news, and then that would be when the news got out. I also told some of my friends beforehand. When the teacher heard, she was shocked, but also happy for me, and she asked me why we were moving, which was a good question, and I answered, “Because my dad has got a job in America, he is teaching at a university.” This was true, and I am not the kind of person who lies, especially in this situation. Anyway, my best friend was quite shocked as well, in fact probably more shocked than anybody else in the classroom except for me, but of course I already knew the news, I found out two days ago, so I probably wasn’t the most shocked after all.

Christmas words

We had a few interesting linguistic excursions in our house over the Christmas break.

I don't go out of my way to encourage rogue versions of carols, although the last few posts might lead you to think so. Nonetheless, 4-yo came up with her own. She would sing

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly
'Tis the season to be naughty"

and then laugh uproariously. (Try saying it with an American accent, and you'll see that the rhyme is closer than it looks.)

Then 8-yo asked the following question:

"You know when a boy thinks a girl is pretty, he says she's hot? Well, if he thinks she isn't pretty, does he say she's cold?"

Good question. Meanwhile, one of the little presents that Santa put in 4-yo's stocking was a packet of panties (her older brothers will never understand how panties and socks could possibly count as presents, for heaven's sake, but luckily Santa understands girls as well as he understands boys). Husband picked up the packet and said "oh, low rise panties. At first glance I thought it said low risk panties." Bridget Jones, you have so much to answer for.

Then there was a totally bizarre moment at the lunch table. We were enjoying smoked salmon, and encouraging the kids to try it. 4-yo asked the question "Is Gran smoked?" Hm. You're always told to answer kids honestly, so I replied "No. Um. No. Gran isn't smoked." That seemed an honest response.

It was only after long pondering that I worked out the background to the question. A couple of weeks before Christmas, 11-yo's class had been discussing the evils of smoking. I had been telling him how in his grandparents' generation, many people smoked, because they didn't know how bad it was for you. His grandparents had done so, but had given up when the ill effects became known.

Smoked salmon. Grandparents who smoked. Isn't the world a complicated place for a 4 year old?