And Then It Just Clicked

People say it takes a good six to nine months to settle in and acclimate when you move to a new country. It doesn't matter how many times you've done it before; with each move comes the need to reestablish routines, find your way around, make new friends and generally figure out how to do things in this foreign place you call your new home. Experts call this the cross-cultural adjustment cycle. Having gone through it more than once I call it the roller coaster of hell. There are ups, downs and more ups (hopefully) before you level out and find your comfort zone.

The first phase of the cycle is the honeymoon period where the newness of everything is exciting; you may not understand how to go about daily life but since it is new, it is all an adventure. But soon the newness turns into cultural shock and adjustment as you struggle to figure out how to manage and live your life in your new environment. While acclimating even the most basic of tasks become chores and frankly, it is just plain exhausting. This phase is often accompanied by mental and physical isolation from the world that you know. (This is repeatedly my roller coaster of hell phase). But once you reach the other side, things are so much better. Here you find acceptance and integration into your new environment. The pieces begin to fall into place and your new world starts to make sense. It is the blissful place to be before the final stages of the cycle---return anxiety and reintegration to the place you call home--make their appearance. Fortunately for me, these final stages of my Belgian life are still several years away. Because right now I am focusing on my acceptance and integration phase of Belgian life, which is a place that I only reached within the past couple of weeks.

Frankly this past spring, and even a part of the summer, were a struggle. Between finding and moving into a house, receiving our household items from both Albania and long term storage in the United States and figuring out what we needed to buy to make our house a home, these past months were just frustrating and tiring. Add in the adjustment of a new school, new job and new routine and I feel like we had more downs than ups. We got a brief reprieve by spending a good chunk of the summer back in the U.S. but returning to Belgium and a new school year involved readjusting to our "real" life all over again.

But gradually things just fell into place. The daily and weekly schedule of school, work and activities started to make sense and feel comfortable. The new school year has brought about a new class for Sidney with a nicer teacher, better behaved classmates and more opportunities. Activities for the entire family have us getting out and enjoying our hobbies both as a family and individually. The quirkiness of Belgium that I spent months trying to figure out is suddenly making sense to me because I am simply accepting it for what it is: the Belgian way of doing things.

All of this dawned on me the other day as I was stuck in traffic. (Americans complain about the traffic in Belgium but after living in major metropolitan areas along the East Coast, even on the worst of days the traffic here is nothing). As I sat there taking in the long line of cars, cargo trailers and tractors vying for the same narrow lane, I suddenly felt at home. It helped that I knew which turn to make to avoid the worst of the traffic but it was more than that. I realized that our family routine is now smooth and when hiccups do occur, we take them in stride. We all have places to go each day and enjoy our time spent there. My French is still very shaky at best but I am comfortable enough to talk and ask my way around most situations. We're continuing to make more friends and now having been here since the beginning of the year, can offer assistance and advice to people who have only recently arrived. I've found my groove as has Glenn and Sidney. Belgium is suddenly feeling like home. And that is the most wonderful feeling of all.

Making A House A Home

A house is just a house but how do you turn it into a home? You would think that since I've already done this too many times I would know how by now. But in reality, it seems as though the more we move, the more complicated it all seems to be. Selecting the right Belgian house for us was both exciting and overwhelming; after all, our last two houses has been chosen for us leaving us to make do with what we were given. I didn't love either house but knew our time in each of them was limited and as such, never put in that extra effort that is needed to turn a house into a home. They were functional and not much else. This time is different. While we know we will only be here for three years, this time around we got to choose our house and I am determined to make this one a real home. So where do I begin?

A new house is like a blank slate--you can do anything or nothing with it. It sounds exciting until you are faced with the reality. As anyone who has moved knows, when you move into a new house you must start over with restocking your kitchen and pantry. Kitchen basics like oil, milk, and flour just aren't there. Neither are cleaning supplies, brooms, and laundry detergents. I am literally starting over from scratch. We first moved into our new house last week with just our suitcases and some inadequate loaner furniture. That was it. The tall ceilings and tiled and wooden floors that had seemed charming when we first looked at the house were cold and echo producing in the stark and cold darkness of our first night. Having sat empty for several weeks, it took a long time for the rooms to warm up once we turned on the heat. Without an active Internet connection or even a radio the only noises we heard were the sounds on the streets and the unfamiliar house noises that come with every building, making me call into question what was normal and what wasn't. At that point, the house was anything but homey leaving me to wonder whether we had made the right decision. (At least when someone else assigns you a house you don't have these moments of self doubt). The house seemed cold, unwelcoming, and honestly, a mistake.

Although this is our second European tour, we had been provided with everything we needed at our previous post--furniture, linens, rugs, even a microwave, vacuum cleaner, and coffee maker. It meant that upon moving into the house we were immediately set up and good to go. Not this time around. We essentially had nothing. I even forgot to pack bedding so we spent the first night sleeping on new sheets and a borrowed duvet. Again, starting at square one can be exciting but it is also exhausting as we have spent our all of our weekends to date traipsing from one store to another, one country to another (because we are in centrally located Belgium, trips to Germany and France are easy day trips), setting up house. Shopping quickly looses its appeal when finding the right item becomes a necessity. Since we first moved overseas when Sidney was still sleeping in a crib, we never invested in bedroom furniture for him; now we find ourselves having to buy that as well. Without a single closet space in the house, we are becoming frequent shoppers at Ikea as we buy every type of storage apparatus imaginable. As an American I didn't realize how much stuff I hid behind closed doors until I didn't have any.

We are still waiting for the arrival of our living room and bedroom furniture from a long term storage facility back in the United States, but yesterday all of our personal goods arrived from Tirana. We're slowly unpacking each box and finding homes for all of our worldly goods, which I'm already realizing is going to necessitate more trips to Ikea for additional storage bins. (We have half of the square footage here than we did in our last house so fitting everything in is going to be tight with many items being stored in the surprisingly ample attic). In the meantime piles of books, baking sheets, and wardrobe boxes are lining the walls of every room.

But even in the midst of all of this clutter, this house is already beginning to feel like a home. Our cherished rugs, purchased during our travels, are muting the echoes of the house while making it feel like our home. In fact, upon returning home from school yesterday, Sidney's first exclamation was "our Albanian rug". The kitchen and pantry may be small but with my pots on the shelves and spices lining the kitchen counter the room is slowing beginning to feel like my kitchen. Eating dinner last night off of our dishes with our own silverware made even the simplest pasta dish taste so much better. (Paper plates and plastic ware do not a dinner make!). We don't have pictures hung on the walls yet but I'm visualizing where our artwork and many photographs will go once we find a drill. With the arrival of Sidney's toys his room already looks like the cluttered playroom in our old house.

It will be slow going for sure but give me a few weeks and this house will soon be our home. I am sure of that.

Bust

Early in our Albanian tenure; we were all younger, thinner, and
had more hair (I was even a red head)

Today, after 952 days, we are departing Albania for what is likely to be the last time. The past few years have been a wild ride filled with ups and downs, great joy and crushing heartbreak, adventure filled weekends and lazy days of doing nothing, long work hours and too many responsibilities.  We've made life long friends and met people we hope to never see again.  Our little boy arrived as a baby and is departing as a worldly, bilingual four year old.  We've visited twenty-three European countries (some multiple times) yet managed to explore Albania's natural beauty from north to south, east to west.  (In fact, we've probably seem more of Albania than many of our Albanian friends).  We've explored more castle ruins than I even thought was humanly possible and walked in places that seem trapped in a previous time. I quickly discovered the importance of investing in a good pair of shoes, always carrying my own toilet paper, and never leaving home without both a hand held fan and a sweater.  I've learned to improvise with my cooking, to always watch where I step, and that embassies, street dogs, farm animals and overflowing dumpsters can happily co-exist on a single street (namely ours).  I've had it reaffirmed time and time again that I really do not care for offal, raki, or Albanian wine but have never tired of the plethora of  fresh fish, figs, and other seasonal delicacies.  My defensive driving skills have been honed and I been amazed time and time again at what can be made out of concrete, but I still can't decipher whether a bobbing head means yes, no, or a little of both.

We've grown and matured and we've seen Albania grow right along with us; new roads, many with actual pavement, have reduced travel times from one end of the country to another; new shopping malls, movie theaters, and grocery stores have all introduced a variety of services and amenities to the country inching Albania one step closer to her western contemporaries. But through all of this the house across the street from us remains as occupied and unfinished as the day we arrived while the number of old Mercedes, battered furgons, and over the top expensive vehicles plying the roads has drastically increased.  During the past two and a half years airlines have come and gone, we witnessed national elections and a new government come to power, and are watching Albania's ongoing quest to be welcomed into the EU.  From The New York Times to Lonely Planet, travel writers continue to rate Albania as an up and coming place to visit.  (And, in my opinion, Albania is well worth a visit).  Yes, the past two and a half years have been quite the adventure.

So what does the future hold for us?  For sure, there will be more adventures, more memories to be made and new opportunities to be had. This blog will continue with the same URL but a new name.  (I'm testing out names so if you have any suggestions, please send them my way).  So stay tuned to find out what the future holds for us!

Our most recent family picture; we are all older and
wiser but still enjoying our adventures

(Unaccompanied) Baggage

The movers arrived for the first time yesterday to pack up our unaccompanied baggage shipment.  In military circles this smaller shipment of the items you will live off of until all of your household items arrives is often called an express shipment. Express as in it arrives quickly or at a minimum quicker than   the crates of your furniture, electronics, and other worldly items.  I stopped calling it an express shipment after our move to Albania when the said "express" shipment arrived one full day prior to the rest of our household goods.  So much for express!  Now I am calling it by its other name, "unaccompanied baggage" or UAB.  UAB is perhaps the most important shipment a military family will have when moving since these are the items, all 1,000 pounds of them, that with the exception of the luggage will bring onto the plane with us, we are expected to live off of for the foreseeable future. In our case we are planning on the foreseeable future being three or so months in a hotel room so careful packing is essential.

So what does one pack for three people for three months when everything that goes into those boxes must be stored in our small hotel room?  What can we live without for so many months?  These are questions I pondered for some time.  Although Belgium's weather experiences none of the extreme highs and lows that we have here in Albania, we will be transitioning from winter into spring and perhaps even a bit of summer before we see our household goods again.  With that in mind, rain gear is a given in.  But add in the myriad of Glenn's required uniforms plus off duty clothing and clothes for Sidney and myself and our tiny allotted closet space is sure to be filled to capacity.  Each and every item was selected with care keeping dual purposes in mind.  (I also have no idea what our laundry situation will be but I suspect it will mean my spending many hours in a laundry mat).

Anyone whose read this blog knows I like food so the prospective cooking situation concerns me.  I've been assured that our room has a kitchenette but I am unclear as to what this actually means.  I have heard a refrigerator and dishwasher are a part of the deal but other details are vague.  I'm assuming there is a stove of some sort and hopefully there is an oven as well.  I haven't been able to get any clarity so I don't know what I'll be dealing with.  My crock pot and set of knives were the first item to get packed into the UAB but multi-purpose pots and pans were selected with great care.  I have no idea if I packed the right items but it is too late to change my mind now.

So now I sit and wait.  I've been told that our boxes will arrive in Belgium in about ten days but I've heard that line before.  I'm hopeful that this time it will arrive on time.  If they do, I may go back to calling this shipment express.

On Loan

In many respects my current life is temporary.  Or at least that is how I feel.  We are temporarily living in a country in a house that is only on loan to us.  Even most of the furnishings aren't ours; from the rugs and lamps to our dining room table and the chair I am sitting in at the moment, we are the temporary inhabitants of this residence that was selected for us.  Come January,  we will move out and in a matter of days someone else will become the new occupant of our Drexal furniture filled home.  Whether we are members of the military or the foreign service, such is the life we have (unknowingly?? knowingly??) signed on for.  With each move we know we are only there for the short term before we move on again.  So how does one put down roots when you know they will be so shallow?

This is a question I have been contemplating lately.  Perhaps it is because the annual summer migration known as PCSing (permanent change of station) is upon us and so many of our friends are packing up, picking up, and moving on.  Some are returning to the United States or to their home countries while others are heading onto new foreign adventures.  For the moment we are staying put and watching new people migrate to Tirana and put down their own temporary roots.  And everyone does it in their own way.  Some people arrive, unpack quickly and go about making their new house their new home.  They buy new accessories to customize their standard issue furniture, paint their walls to match their personalities, and quickly integrate themselves into social circles as though they have been their all their lives. Others live out of their moving boxes, unpacking only as needed, keeping to themselves, and biding their time until they too will be moving on once again.  

When we arrived two years ago, we did a combination of these things.  Due in large part to our super efficient housekeeper, all of our boxes were unpacked and homes found for our belongings the day they arrived.  We quickly hung our family pictures to personalize the otherwise generic walls, swapped out our standard issued mattress for the pillow topped one we had brought with us, and filled the kitchen with the scenes and smells that reminded us of home.  (My Kitchen Aid mixer is always the first item that is unpacked and put to use since in my mind, a kitchen just isn't my kitchen unless this bright red appliance is perched upon a counter).  With the exception of additional transformers, we didn't, however, buy anything that is specific to our current house.  Having learned the hard way that the framed print that is perfect over one mantle won't work in a house without a fireplace and custom drapes are only appropriate for the windows they were designed for, we arranged what we already owned to work in our current situation. It wasn't a perfect match but it was good enough for the time being.  Or so we told ourselves.  We immediately immersed ourselves in our new jobs and routines, quickly made new friends, and settled into our new lives but somehow this move was different from the onset.  Whereas before I felt as though staying put at the end of an assignment was a remote possibility, I knew that here, for better or worse, there was a firm end date in sight.  And I feel as though this thought has never been far from my mind.  On both good days and bad I have reminded myself that this situation is only temporary.  This certainly isn't any way to live and I have reminded myself of this over the past two years but I still haven't been able to shake the "its only on loan" feeling.  

And now we have entered into our six month countdown and the temporary feeling is turning into a sense of reality.  Instead of focusing on the now I'm focusing on the future.  Instead of hanging pictures from our most recent trip on the wall I'm thinking about saving them for our next temporary set of walls.  After all, why mar the concrete wall with a hole that will only serve a purpose for a few short months?  As friends who have lived in the same house for decades comment on my nomadic lifestyle with both envy and horror I wonder how I really feel about it.  I find myself wondering what it will be like to finally settle into a "permanent" house and put down real roots.  Will it be a relief to finally unpack knowing another move isn't on the horizon or will I feel an itch to move on after a few years.  Only time will tell since that day is still years in the future.  In the meantime I'm focusing on what is coming up next.  I'm telling myself that three years is a long enough time to establish roots.  Maybe they won't grow real deep but perhaps they will be deep enough to feel somewhat permanent.  We'll once again have the opportunity to choose our own house instead of having one assigned to us and our furniture will be our own.  We'll have three years to unpack, settle down, and make our house our home and our neighborhood our neighborhood.  So the real question I need to ponder now is how to make it happen.  How do you really establish roots on a compressed timeline?

It Is Finally Official.....

.................or as official as it will be until we are physically there.  After months of waiting we have our next set of written orders in hand.  Come January, the Brown family will be heading to Mons, Belgium for three years. 

This is the season for the moving game, or PCSing, a.k.a. permanent change of station, as it is known in military lingo, and it is something military (and foreign service) families are all too familiar with.  You are barely settled in one location before you are putting out feelers for your next set of orders.  A friend of mine once likened the process to on-line dating.  You research what is out there and what is the best fit for you (and your family)then make your wishes known hoping someone likes you back. Sometimes it works out but other times it doesn't.  It can be an opportunity for positive change---if you don't like where you are or don't like your job, you aren't committed to it in the longer term-- but it can also be upsetting and tumultuous for all those involved.  Spouses may have to quit jobs, children may be removed from friends and schools they love, and social networks are often shattered.  When we were in Norfolk we were fortunate that Glenn was able to move from one job to another without our family having to actually pick up and move.  This pattern continued for several job rotations meaning we kept our house, I had continuous employment, and we kept our every growing circle of close friends, but most people aren't so fortunate.  More often than not, every two to three years families are packing up, house hunting, and moving half way across the country or even the world and re-establishing themselves before staring the process all over again.  This is the game we knowingly jumped into when we decided we were ready to move beyond Norfolk.

It wasn't long after we arrived here in Albania that we began asking ourselves what was next.  Sure we would be here for two years (which stretched into two and one half) but it is never too early to start thinking about and exploring what could come next.  Initially we thought another embassy tour might be in order or more likely a return to the States since Sidney would be starting school and I could return to work but the longer we were overseas, the more the "European bug" got us and we decided we wanted to stay here.  Not in Albania per se, but in Europe in general.  At first it looked like Germany was in our future and I dutifully began researching houses, school, and family life there. It all sounded good and I was getting excited.  Then we were told that it would be Belgium, an option we had never even considered but were even happier with yet I hesitated to do too much research before the move was definite.  After all, we had been down this route before and I didn't want to get my hopes up too much lest I be disappointed in the end. 

Just to demonstrate how far in advance some of these moves can be planned, the family that was set to replace us had been identified and was asking us questions about the country before we even arrived in Albania.  This advanced planning isn't always the case, however.  In fact, it rarely is.  I know several people who are supposed to PCS this summer who are still awaiting their official orders in writing. I know that in this era of budget cuts, sequestration, and all around cost cutting we are lucky to have orders in hand seven months before our move date.  Verbal orders are fine but until you have that ream of paper in your hot little hands, you can't plan the things that really matter. These orders are really your passport to your next life since you can't house hunt, register your children for their new school, or schedule your move without them.  And we now have them!

As I said earlier, it will all be real once we land in Belgium.  In the meantime, however, I have schools to research, houses to hunt for, and the next three years to plan out.  As difficult as it can be to pick up and move, the possibilities of what the future holds for us are too exciting to resist.  And I can't wait for what is in store for us.

Beer, Chocolate, and Moules?

Anybody who lives the nomadic lifestyle of a military family knows the feeling; it seems as though you are in a constant state of flux with either planning your next move, settling into a new home, or enjoying a few carefree months before you start the process all over again.  Daily life is filled with unknowns that in many cases, you have very little control over and a change of some sort is continually on the horizon.  Sometimes that change is welcome; if you happen to find yourself in a city, country, or assignment you don't like, you know there is an end in sight.  On the flip side, if you are in a place you love, there is also an impending expiration date. With the Navy's "home porting" approach, it is possible for Navy families to stay put in one location for several consecutive assignments.  This was our situation in Norfolk where we owned a home and I held a steady job in my career field but then we got restless and wanted a change of scenery.  And when we implement a change, we go all out.  Within the span of fourteen months we moved from Norfolk to Washington D.C. and then to our current location in Tirana, Albania.  And now, once again, it is our turn to play the "where to next" game.

Albania has been a hard assignment for us.  As with any location, there are pros and cons, some people love it while others despise every moment of it, and yet others fall somewhere in between.  We are in that later category but believing life is what you make of it, we are taking full advantage of every opportunity that comes our way.  We've met some wonderful people and had amazing travel opportunities over the past two years but it hasn't always been easy.  We've suffered personal heartbreak while here (unrelated to being in Albania but we were here none the less so I will always associate these pains with Albania) and our exposure to Albanian government has shown us a side of the country that isn't always pretty.  Rather than tear us apart, these experiences have made us a stronger family and for that I am grateful.   Like I said, it hasn't been easy so yes, we are ready to move on.  While that move won't come for another ten months, we are beginning to look forward to whatever lies in our future.

So what do we want in our next posting?  Being overseas has given us the travel bug so we really want to remain abroad for another few years.  Unlike the Foreign Service and even the Army, overseas Navy billets aren't as plentiful as we would like and when you knock Japan off of the list (a place I want to visit but have no desire to live), the options are even more limited.  This is likely to be our last tour so a job that will make for an easier transition into civilian employment is important for Glenn.  Because Sidney will be entering school during our next tour, quality educational opportunities are a top priority for us.  We'd love for Sidney to become proficient in a third language and we really want to live in a community where we feel comfortable, fit in, and have friends.  The reality is that I am unlikely to find meaningful employment while overseas but I do want to be in a place where I have opportunities to volunteer and get involved in a positive way.  Other priorities for us include a good quality of life, real green space and infrastructure and after our time in Albania, I really really want to live in a place with safe public transportation and reliable electricity.  I don't think I'm asking too much..........

We've been on a yo-yo in the past few months trying to find a location that meets our criteria, Glenn is of the appropriate rank for, and whose timing works out for us.  Last month we thought we had found it and were happy with what the future held for us.  Call me a cynic, however, but I refused to get too excited about the prospect because in the Navy, orders really aren't a sure thing until you are in place at your next command.  I was doing my research but keeping an open mind for our "Plan B" which while less desirable, would have been a sure thing.  Semper Gumby, right?  Well it's a good thing because it looks like we're changing directions again and for once it really is for the better.  If all goes well, all of our criteria are going to be met, including that improbable job opportunity for me plus we'll be in a large international community with like minded people (something we want but didn't think was a real possibility). There is a light at the end of our tunnel and the old adage of good things happening to those who wait is coming true.  We are excited and feel confident that this is going to be a sure thing.  Well, as sure as life in the military can be.  Its too soon to start packing but planning, purging and language refreshers are underway.

Cleaning House

This is what it looked like as the movers packed up our house to move from Washington DC to Albania:

Yes, we moved seven full crates jam packed with our worldly belongings overseas with us.  Since this didn't include any of our furniture it was comprised of our "household goods": clothing, personal items, and my endless and very heavy collection of small kitchen appliances, serving dishes, and cookbooks.  I've always prided myself in being a minimalist and initially I was quite proud of how little we were bringing.  That was until  we went six weeks without any of our belongings and survived just fine.  The arrival of our seven full crates reminded me that the reality is we have too many unnecessary things. 

Fast forward nineteen months.  We are still one year away from moving (to where I have no idea) but I'm already starting to worry about what this next move will entail. Rather than get rid of things while we have been here ---something I had crazily thought we would do and used to justify the reason I brought so many items I no longer used-- we have only been consistently accumulating more items.   We are regularly gifted with knick knacks and miscellaneous trinkets that while interesting (sometimes very "interesting") just collect dust and take up shelf space.  But not all of our acquisitions are destined for a mythical yard sale.  In addition to two large and heavy pieces of furniture, a giant custom made solid oak kitchen table and an extra large antique dowry chest, we've accumulated more books, toys for Sidney, and yes, kitchen items.  As I look at my overfilled wardrobes, pantry that could feed a small country for a year, and cabinets filled to capacity, I'm realizing that I do in fact have too much stuff.  No, I am really not a minimalist.  So how did I get to this point and more importantly, what is a girl to do about it?

I used to be one of those people who carried that teeny tiny purse that was so fashionable yet incredibly impractical.  I remember my friend Catherine laughing at me and telling me that some day I too would be lugging around a cavernous bag.  At the time I told her it would never happen but fast forward a few years and here I am, over sized bag in hand, digging through the bottomless pit to find a pen.  Somehow I have become "that" person.  I am the very same person who used to be able to travel for a week with only a carry on.  I am now the one who checks an large suitcase for a long weekend.  I really dislike being that person but can't quite figure out how to minimize.  Whereas my mantle and bookshelves used to hold a single, carefully selected picture frame, our shelves are now filled with lead crystal plaques, post Communist era military propaganda, miniature lithographs of scenes depicting European cities, and oddly enough, a collection of shot glasses and key chains.  And the alcohol.  We love good wine and an occasional after dinner liqueur but the number of potent brandies, rakis and vodkas filling our shelves is threatening a collapse.  There is no way we could drink everything in the coming year and what on earth will I do with these items once we leave Albania?

So here is my plan:  2013 will be a year of downsizing.  No matter how pretty, unique, or potentially useful it might be, I will not be purchasing additional serving dishes, table linens, or pottery.  I'm going to limit myself to a single medium sized suitcase when traveling for a long weekend.  (Hey, it is a start and in my defense, my bag usually includes all of Sidney's clothes and sundry paraphernalia).  For the rest of our time in Albania I'm going to limit the size of my weekly grocery shop.  No longer will I buy things just because they look interesting or extra items because they might not be there next week.  I'm also going to stop taking all of the extra food from people who departing post.  Seriously, we could easily go several months without shopping and still have food to spare.  When the annual Embassy yard sale comes around, rather than simply organizing it for everyone else, I'm going to personally be organized enough to rid myself of the too small clothes, obsolete baby items, and other boxes filled with things I have no use for.  

Without a doubt a year from now we will be taking more "household goods" out of Albania than we brought in.  I will strive to have fewer items then than I do now.  Somethings I won't part with though; just think about the dinner conversations that will be able to ensue when we pour our special Russian vodka into Hungarian shot glasses as we show guests our Albanian double headed eagle plaque and Chinese key ring collection.  I bet you would all like an invitation to that dinner.