Working girl

It's 7pm and I'm trying to stay awake...

Today I put in my first day at IRC. Now I can see why Brent comes home exhausted every day, and I was only there for 4.5 hrs! All that big talk I did about not being able to sit around and do nothing for three months is suddenly sounding hollow... a day flopped out on the computer, reading and watching baby births on Discovery Health is looking pretty good right about now.

Seriously, it's not that bad. I got to meet the program team that I'll be working with, and the Program Coordinator instructed everyone to write out their schedules for the week and give me and her a copy so that we could make the "best use of my time with them". How flattering. However, every time I was introduced, people would ask what I was there doing, etc. then after my answer, and a moment of silence, someone would inevitably add, "and she's Brent's wife." I would have to agree, and my cover for future "so, what do you think of the new guy?" investigations was blown.

We have been dying to have a steady, "normal" working routine for what seems like years now, but as many warned us, the reality is a little less glamorous than we had imagined. Up at 6am, to the gym or a run by 6:30, to the bus stop by 7:45, at work by 8:15am, work through lunch, then home by 6:15, make and eat dinner and we're ready for bed before 8pm! I know this isn't a "hard" schedule compared to many people, so could someone tell me why we are so beat? Maybe everyone's this beat and they just hide it better...

At least we have weekends!

This past weekend we went out to a cocktail hour with friends on a rooftop restaurant in Bankers Hill, bordering Hillcrest. The outdoor roof was packed. It was a near-exclusively gay event, and I was one of about 4 women in the whole crowd. While the company was great and the view over San Diego to the ocean was stunning as the sun set, the highlight of my night was walking down the 7 flights of stairs with a couple behind me that started commenting on my figure. Hey, you've still got it if you can get "hit on" by gay guys...!

I was hoping to be signing off in Spanish tonight, but unfortunately my Spanish lessons were postponed again, and so I've switched to an intensive month-long course which will be 5 mornings a week starting next week. Spanish in the mornings, IRC in the afternoons. However, after getting my feet wet this week, I will likely take some time off from IRC next week for my parent's visit. Speaking of which, they started their drive down here today - yay!

Ok, it's now 9pm... I think I can justify heading to bed now. Good night from sweltering southern California,

J & B

Ray at Night and my TV addiction

Sorry everyone, still me! Brent has been snowed under with work lately, including having to go in this past weekend to try to get caught up on the towering pile on his desk that welcomed him back from Phoenix. I, on the other hand, am sitting at my desk drinking an iced coffee, trying not to move my legs, thereby preventing the shooting pains that are afflicting my quads, hamstrings, glutes and calves. I seem to have gone a little overboard at the gym on Monday and my muscles are making sure I will never forget it!

I've been quiet for a few days because I haven't had too much to report. We had a great weekend, hitting up one of the best vegetarian restaurants I've ever tasted with friends, and making our usual tour of the farmer's market for our weekly produce and coconut pancake fix (a 25 cent treat we save up our spare change for every week). Then on Saturday night we tried out the neighbourhood bordering Hillcrest (North Park)'s arts scene. On the second Saturday of every month downtown North Park celebrates Ray at Night - an art gallery walk along two gallery-lined streets, complete with live outdoor bands, and cheap wine and free snacks in all the galleries. However, in contrast to the Brattleboro Gallery Walk's family atmosphere, Ray at Night definitely caters to a more eclectic crowd... for example, on doing our rounds, Brent and I followed the general door-to-door movement of the crowd, and entered a large gallery beside one of the playing bands. Looking around, we tried to discern what type of gallery it was - Asian? An art school? Sculpture? Modern? There were sculpture-ish looking things on shelves... items for sale... dog collars? Wait a minute... is that a...? Turns out a large Adult Erotica store was also open for viewing!

The week has progressed with lots of work for Brent, and as yet, no work for me. For the first time in years I've become a frequent viewer of the "one-eyed Monster" (B's reference to the TV), and have probably seen more infomercials, heard more jingles, and definitely learned about and seen more births, medical procedures, international adoptions and dog training than I ever thought I could in a 3-day period!

Needless to say, Brent is looking forward to me getting back to work and away from Discovery Health! I was finally able to get a hold of the woman I'm supposed to be working with at IRC, and so we'll be meeting tomorrow to discuss my role there. Next week looks virtually TV-free - in addition to IRC, on Monday my Spanish lessons will finally begin, and mid week we're ecstatic about welcoming our first visitors - my parents! YAY! Stay tuned to hear about all the fun we get up to with them. Really, I'm most excited about having the use of a car for a while! Joking :-)

Hope you all are doing well. Please continue to send us your news via e-mail, and for those we haven't heard from, what's going on?

Till next time!

J&B

Home sweet California

Stepping out of San Diego's small, familiar airport (3 visits in a month = familiar) and into the warm early evening with Brent and two colleagues yesterday, we all chimed how great it was to be back in San Diego! We had just returned from 4 days in Phoenix, Arizona, the site of IRC's Case Management Training workshop. Brent went along as a supervisor, with two of his caseworkers - Amina and Wafa - whose turn it was to attend this year. His three other case managers went last year, and so they stayed to man the office.

Unfortunately all I can tell you about in Phoenix are the freeways, our hotel, and passing views of suburbia and strip malls. There are undoubtedly nicer parts of the city (there have to be!), but a combination of the sprawl and the incapacitating heat kept me sequestered in the hotel for most of our visit. Luckily, as you can see from the photos, it had a nice pool as a respite from the stifling 40/105 (C/F) temperatures.

One of my few outings was a trip to replenish my sunscreen. I asked the hotel's front desk if the complimentary shuttle could take me to a drug store in the vicinity of the hotel. "Sure," she said, "there is a Wallgreens (drug store) or a Wal-Mart." Definitely Wallgreens! But by the time they tracked down a driver willing to take me, the only person they could find was a new girl from Hawaii. As we pulled out of the hotel parking lot she said "Wal-Mart, right?" Um, actually I had requested Wallgreens, is that ok? She hummed and hawed, before admitting that she didn't know where the Wallgreens was! She reassured me that the Wal-Mart was just a couple blocks away. Would the reduced carbon emissions of not searching aimlessly in a huge van be worth supporting the exploitation of workers in free trade zones overseas? I wanted to resist, but it looked like I was stuck between patronizing the evil Mega-Giant or skin cancer.

I think it's been at least 5-7yrs since I've stepped foot in a Wal-Mart. Now I have been to other box stores since, and I tried to reassure myself that it couldn't be that much worse, but it was. The shuttle delay meant that it was now around 2pm; I'd missed lunch and was ravenous. I stood in the doorway staring out at a warehouse of cheap, mass-produced goods. To my right was an in-store McDonalds churning out the aroma of french fries and Big Macs. I haven't been in one of those for nearly a decade either, and certainly wasn't about to break two ethical standards at once! To my left was Wal-Mart's version of a deli. These were the only options for lunch that I was going to get, as there were no other commercial stores in sight (welcome to suburbia). I spent nearly 20 minutes walking up and down the deli counter and scouring pre-made items on the shelves for something remotely vegetarian (let alone healthy). Nothing. I kid you not. Even the salads were piled with either ham, chicken or both. Every sandwich's primary ingredient was meat. In the end I resorted to a $1.98 pre-made Tuna Fish sandwich (filled with more mayo than tuna), some overpriced apples (yes, everything in Wal-Mart is cheap - except the healthy food), and some baby carrots. After tasting the sandwich, my lunch consisted mainly of carrots and apples. I started up the behemoth aisles looking for something like skin care, got scared and came back. How to navigate this place? Finally, I edged along by the cash registers until I saw the glint of fluorescent lights off a plastic beach ball. I made a b-line for the beach accessories and grabbed my precious sunscreen. My bill came to $25, of which $20 was probably the carrots and apples. Ok, I'm joking. But looking around that place really did make me consider whether the physiological ill-health of a portion of the North American people (yes Canada, we have them too) could be placed at Wal-Mart's door. I know their unquestionably low prices have become a necessity for those living near or in poverty, but for the rest of us - is it really worth supporting that place (or those like it -something I'm still working to adhere to) to save a few dollars? Pick an issue - human health, environmental health, or ethically-produced products and regardless of what their spin doctors say, Wal-Mart is evil.

As I was navigating the epitome of capitalist greed, Brent was busy at the conference - meetings all day and networking at night. We got to meet (and even have dinner and drinks with) some of the national Directors in IRC, and even get away for a romantic anniversary dinner at a funky New Orleans-inspired seafood restaurant. I think Brent came away from the conference exhausted, but also with a few new ideas that he now has to find the time and resources to implement.

I am also finally starting to get my hands full, and may soon be switching from being commitment-less to having as much work as I can handle. My Spanish lessons have been postponed, but will be twice a week, starting the 23. I will likely be starting my volunteer monitoring and evaluation project at IRC next week, and I have been in contact with another group that does gender-based violence work specifically with immigrants and refugees that I'm looking forward to being part of. So much for my days of domestic work and periodic relaxation!

However, just because I'll be busy doesn't mean we don't still want visitors!

Talk to you all soon,

Jen

p.s. Sorry if I offended any Wal-Mart lovers. I'm sure it has its pros, and as far as environmental and ethical consumerism go: 1) we flew to Phoenix, 2) I enjoyed a pool in the desert, and 3) getting seafood in a landlocked state had to have consequences, so don't think I'm polishing my halo over here. But we try, and if posts like this make me and one other person reconsider how we want to impact other people and the earth by our consumerism and lifestyle, then it's worth it.

p.p.s Thanks "Isley" and others who've commented on here, or written e-mails to let us know you're reading (and enjoying) our news. Brent's still trying to find time to write on here, so soon you should have a brief reprieve from my rambling ;-)

Happy Anniversary to us!

Two years ago today at this moment I was in bathroom with Lindsay and a group of cherished girlfriends, trying to get curls to stay in my quickly deflating hair, having my toenails painted on a whim, and looking around frantically for the special makeup that I had bought for the occasion (which was finally found after the ceremony). That little bathroom had become a humid, buzzing world of its own; I was anxious and excited, and had lost all sense of time.

One hundred and fifty of our closest friends and family had come from all the corners of the globe, and were now waiting somewhat patiently on a fragrant spring lawn for a delayed ferry and a very fashionably late bride. Brent was out with the guests, having photos taken with his cousins, and silently wondering where the heck I was.

And then someone - probably my mother, who was really running the entire show - came to remind me that it was getting late. I don't remember anyone having mentioned the time before, so I quickly finished up and worked up the courage to go to the glass-cordoned veranda, where I was to wait in a frantic mix of flowers, bridal party, and the electric anticipation of people's hope, love and best wishes for an entire lifetime. And then the music began, and slowly, the flower girls, ring bearers and bride's maid began their procession, one by one. And then it was my turn; with my parents on both sides, I walked out into the sunshine and saw Brent across the lawn, standing by a white-washed gate. It is amazing to have happiness wash over your whole body. From the inside, like butterflies; in a release of tears you can't hold in; in a smile that is too big for you to control - involuntarily telling the world that every fiber in your body is shouting for joy.

It is no exaggeration to say that it was the most wonderful day of our lives. As soon as the ceremony was over, we both said wanted to go back and do it all over again. It was the combination of pledging ourselves to the person we knew we were meant to be with, and the feeling of support from having so many people we love surrounding us on that day. Brent and I frequently talk about our unpaid gratitude to everyone who made it to Clam Bay for our wedding. For people to come, from near and far and even the other side of the world, for three days on a not-too-easy-to-reach island to celebrate our union was the best life-gift we could imagine. We keep trying to scheme up ways to have it repeated someday... or at least to let people know how much their presence meant to us.

Finally, no tribute to our nuptials would be complete without recognising the incredible kindness and generosity of dozens of people who chipped in, to help or contribute to the festivities in some way over the three days at Clam Bay (and for members of our family who were helping with the preparations for months in advance). The entire celebration was a labour of love by so many that it would take a small novel to thank everyone.

Today is actually Brent and my first wedding anniversary together, as last year we were separated by two continents and an ocean. He is at an IRC training conference all day and only got 3 hours of sleep last night due to a neighbouring hotel guest that decided to keep their TV on all night long, but we're hoping to go for a nice dinner alone tonight. We're staying at a hotel in strip-mallville though, so finding an independent place with some original ambiance might be a bit of a challenge... wish us luck!

Lots of love to all of you, and thanks again to those of you who helped make this day two years ago so wonderful.

J&B

The Canasta Club

Sore throat, plugged sinuses, and a head that feels like a watermelon being swung around from the end of a rope that someone is about to launch in a trajectory over a very high wall. But misses, and hits the wall - smack.

For once I'm not talking about Brent. This time it's me that couldn't hold the cold bug at bay.

But, it allows me a decent excuse to postpone finishing a particularly long application, and write to all of you!

I guess I really have last night to thank. I was starting to come down with something, but rather than staying in, having some hot soup and an early night with my hubby, Brent and I succumbed to the attraction of a rare social event, and the promise of meeting new people. Moving to a new place, these opportunities cannot afford to be passed-by for long, as after a while they may stop coming!

So we walked a block or two to a friend of a friend's sister's house, met her and her Guatemalan boyfriend and we were soon off to meet Javier's step-mother (the host), and their gang of friends for an evening of food, drink, and a bit of...card playing? Ok, I was thinking poker, or maybe blackjack... something I may not know how to play, but really should. We arrived at a cute bungalow in the neighbourhood of Kensington (the name says it all). A delicious dinner of fresh tortillas, salad and fixin's was provided, along with a fridge full of cold beer, wine and other assorted alcohols. There were eight of us in total - most of the group were architects, and we hailed from Canada, Guatemala, the Dominican, Mexico, and the US. We arrived at 7, and even during the delicious meal, it was apparent that people were antsy to get on with the game. It was then that we were informed that this was a gang of true-blue, die-hard, born-again fans of ... CANASTA! (they actually admitted to withholding the name of the game in case we thought they were a group of little old ladies)

Though I don't know that many grannies could have put up with the fervor of that game! There was shouting and cursing and begging and threats and even a little karaoke! It was a blast, and despite feeling under the weather, I had a great time. However, for die-hard Canasta fans, time is inconsequential. One of the players had just finished her final architecture exams and her thesis was due in a week - but miss Thursday night Canasta? Never! Brent's eyes began drooping around 11pm, and my throat began to require pain-killing lozenges at 5 min intervals, but still the game went on. Finally, as I was willing the Brent's team to cross the 5,000 pt threshold to reunite me with my bed, my team got two Canasta's to win the game. It was 12:40am. We had been playing Canasta for nearly 5 hours! We stumbled in our door around 1am unsure whether we will ever have the strength to play cards again. But next Thursday - same time, same place? Sure!

In other news, yesterday was also my orientation to volunteer with IRC. I'm going to be working with the Program Manager for two gender-focused programming areas doing monitoring and evaluation. I think it will be a good fit, and she seemed happy to have my help, which is nice. I will have to be careful that between IRC and the other NGOs I've been contacting that I don't suddenly have more work than I can handle, but for the time being, this is what I was hoping for.

Well, I think I've procrastinated on my application long enough. This weekend we're heading to one of SD's beach communities with our friends Jan and Don (they claim that there's a cute spot with $6 pitchers to wile away a sunny Saturday afternoon). Then on Monday we're off to Phoenix, Arizona for a conference/training Brent is attending. I will be busy monitoring and evaluating the hotel's pool-side lounge chairs.

Until next time!
Jen

The Weekend Saboteur!

What is with this guy? Should I be taking it personally that he would rather spend every free moment passed out in bed than enjoying the sunny weekend with his wife? His wife that has waited patiently all week for him to finally have some time off? And then he goes and gets SICK! Again!

Ok all joking aside, poor Brent -again! His nasty cold from last weekend (complete with high fever) cleared up just in time for him to work Tuesday and Wednesday, then on Thursday I got a call in the afternoon that his coworkers were taking him to the doctor because his left eye was swollen, red, weeping and it was painful to look at light. He was given drops, pills and sent home with no specific diagnosis (seeing as he is not covered by medical insurance until June 1, they took him to a little back-alley Dr near his work - not really the best area of town for state-of-the-art opthomology clinics). Ever the trooper, he did a full 8am-7:30pm workday yesterday, so that by today (Saturday, aka WEEKEND) he is now in even more pain and feels the need to just rest and heal, likely all the way till Monday when he will go back to work!

For those of you that were wondering, it does not seem to fit the usual diagnosis of conjunctivitis (aka "pink-eye") either, as there is no yellow or green discharge, just clear tears, and enough swelling to make it look like someone punched him (no bar fights recently that I've been witness to...). So, according to webMD, we're self-diagnosing Iritis, or Sinusitis that has moved from his cold to affect his eye. Don't worry though, we'll get a proper opthomoligist's opinion (once our health insurance kicks in tomorrow) before self-treating!

We did manage a little (perhaps ill-advised) outing last night with our friends Jan (who works with another refugee agency in town) and her husband Don (who's from Uganda!) to our first Diego beach!

Due to Brent having to work late, we only made it there for our picnic dinner after the sun had set, but the photos should give you some idea of what we can look forward to when we break down and buy a car so that we can head there on the hot summer weekends (um, that is if my hubby can stay healthy for one!).

The other (daytime) photo is of my first glimpse of the ocean when I went to an appointment in the wealthy neighbourhood of La Jolla (which was almost very embarrassing when I didn't realise that it was a Spanish name, and was going around pronouncing it in its Anglicised form rather than the correct: la Hoya!).

Last, but not least, this week marked the birthdays of both my "little" brother Mat, who turned the big 2-1 (I said he should have been down here for a real celebration), and my mom, who's birthday is today! She's turning 29...again :-) Happy Birthday to you two!

Love to all from "the Southern Saskatchewan" (my analogy for people who think I've moved far away from Victoria... distance-wise, we're only as far as my mom's home province, and still in the same time zone!)

Starting a new life and the state of our apartment

Greetings again from southern California,

Last night I had the surprise opportunity to accompany Brent and one of his caseworkers to the airport. Rather than a visiting dignitary or returning colleague, our presence at the airport was to meet and welcome a new resident of the US - a young Somali refugee. It was a great chance for me to see one of the major activities Brent has been involved in over the last two weeks, and a chance to meet one of his colleagues, a sweet, talkative older Somali woman called Amina, who has quickly endeared herself to Brent by making him a daily cup of the spiced, fragrant Somali tea friends used to make for us in the settlement.

We arrived a little after 8pm, and as the boy's arrival time approached, Amina scanned the arrivals for Somali-looking passengers with the characteristic International Organisation for Migration (IOM) sticker and bag, while telling us stories of her arrival mishaps over her career with IRC (including planes delayed until 2am - made worse by her 1hr return commute - and a refugee that, instead of coming downstairs to the arrivals lounge, instead saw the McDonalds in the terminal and was finally found there, eating, 2hrs after her plane had landed!). As the boy's arrival time came and went, Amina set off to get security clearance to go upstairs to see if he could be found waiting there (perhaps in the McDonalds), and Brent and I sat down to ironically bump into another colleague of his, Kasra, who helped us vet apartments before we arrived. Amina returned with news that the plane had been delayed, and wouldn't be coming in until 9:25. Finally, at 9:45 we were standing at the bottom of the escalator when Amina said "he's the one". 6' tall and thinner than a rail, in layers of sweatshirts with too-short arms, and the zipped-off hood of an old parka over his head (such a common sight in the refugee camps), Abdul came down the escalator. He quickly told Amina that he had phoned his family upstairs because he was lost, so she called to let them know we had found him. He was from Dadaab - one of the largest refugee camps in Africa. His family was resettled last year but he was found to have TB, and had to complete treatment before being allowed to join his family. He looked about 15, but could have been anywhere from 13-20. His eyes were deeply sunken and he looked a mixture of terrified, tired, and he told Amina, very hungry. I can only imagine all the thoughts running through his head as he stepped out of the airport and into the cool night air, hemmed in by the glowing skyscrapers of downtown San Diego. It was a precious moment to be witness to, and a good reminder that our move to this city is small beans compared to some!

Speaking of our move - I think we`re finally ready to show some photographic evidence that I do have A domestic bone in my body! Here are some before and after photos of our place, and even Brent will admit that I was left to do most of it while he was at work.

Talk to you all again soon!

Love,

Jen and Brent

"Developed" Country Adjustments

Well folks, it had to come.

Moving always has its ups and downs. There's the excitement of a new and sometimes exotic place, mixed with the regret of leaving the familiarity and comfort of where you were. Writing from my relocations to Ghana or Uganda, or during my travels in Africa and Asia, there were significant cultural and logistical differences to "home" that required some adjusting to. Many of you heard about the bus rides with chickens and goats, the gastronomic adventures, and the forays with wild animals. There were power outages, lynch mobs and underpaid authority figures to reckon with, but over the past few years, Brent and I began to "get used" as the Ugandans would say, to how to live, and even thrive, under these new sets of rules. I dislike over generalisations, but there seem to be currents of similarity that unite high-context cultures, that differ from low-context cultures (for more info on what the heck I'm talking about, see http://www.via-web.de/273.html, or google "high context cultures"). While we have been back in wealthy, western, low-context North America for nearly a year, I think the reverse adjustment was buffeted by the overwhelming familiarity of home. Now that we're in a new place, I'm aware of differences I hadn't noticed as starkly in Victoria, and my need to adjust to them.

Now, some aspects of re-adjusting to living in North America are wonderful! Daily cappuccinos (if you can afford them); timely, reliable transport; gyms, parks and a multitude of other ways to stay active; shopping options galore (see photo of my new sunglasses), and the variety of affordable international cuisine being some of them. However, the following aspects of life in a "developed", wealthy, western country have been less easy to adjust to...

1) Can I have my money please?

We'd heard about the US mortgage crisis, but since we don't own property I didn't think it affected us. Then we tried to buy groceries the other day and our new debit card was denied. As it turns out, the state of the US economy has generated a colossal number of fraudulent cheque writers, and as a result, many US banks, including ours, now put every cheque deposited on hold anywhere from 10 days to 8 weeks! Ouch!

2) Ugandan pedestrian rules

In Uganda the rules of the road are simple: the right of way goes to the biggest vehicle. Now while I was initially quite impressed with San Diegan drivers for courteously allowing merging traffic into their lane, I was more taken aback when stepping out on a crosswalk nearly got me flattened! So we've concluded that it's just these weird walking folk (i.e. pedestrians) that have the last right of way.

3) Begging Mr. Fix-It

In high-context cultures waiting becomes a way of life, sometimes elevated to the duration of an art form. But returning back to relatively punctual North America, I found my expectations switching back to minutes rather than hours or hours rather than days. So when we alerted our property manager to our inability to get into our mailbox, and a rather major privacy issue in our shower (which was also a security issue, and a reason that I won't elaborate until tomorrow when it's fixed), I thought they would have it fixed the next day...maybe two days if they were busy. Not the close to TWO WEEKS we've been waiting! And where in Uganda we could have just paid someone to get it done, here that gets into liability issues. Until the manager called today promising it would be done tomorrow, I was ready to fight liability with liability and resort to the American mantra of - let's SUE!

4) The poor here

After her first visit to Canada my former Ghanaian boss said, "the poor in Canada are much poorer than the poor in Africa, because they are alone. If you are poor in Africa, people don't blame you for being poor. In Canada, society shuns you." Working next door to Our Place downtown, I witnessed Victoria's intertwined mental health, substance abuse and homelessness issues daily, so I'm not sure why it is hitting me so hard in San Diego. But it is. Brent and I ventured downtown for the first time this weekend, and juxtaposed against stunning architecture, the ever-present palm fronds, and boutique stores, was the frequent smell of urine, and more than a few people living off the refuse of the rich. It was amazing how close and stark the disparity is in the richest country on earth.

5) Health Care?

Undoubtedly intertwined with #4, I am now living in the land of health-care-for-purchase. It's a strange concept for a Canadian, as I realised staring at a billboard of a kid with his arm in a cast, asking whether your health insurance would pay for that. Huh? Not get a cast when you break an arm because your health insurance doesn't pay for it? What?! I felt like I'd walked into an Orwellian future where something we take for granted has been bought out by big business. In a way, that's what happened for Americans a long time ago. Brent and I sat down to choose his/our benefit package last night and calculated that for basic health, vision and dental (of which his employer still pays around 60%), we'll be looking at premiums of between $350 and $400 a month! The worst part is that if/when we need medical care, we'll still be responsible for up to 50% of the cost. And Canadians have no idea of what health care really costs. The majority of (minuscule) expenses we have for health care are still so heavily subsidized by the government that the equivalent here would involve adding a lot of zero's. If you can handle Michael Moore's one-sided documentaries, see Sicko.

Well this wasn't meant to be a gripe fest, I am really liking San Diego! But it's also good to realise that sometimes a "developing" country's idiosyncrasies can seem comforting, and a sunny, beautiful city in the wealthiest country in the world still has its issues ;-)

To end on a happy note, here are some photos of SD's Gaslamp District, Horton Mall (no relation to Timmy), and the San Diegan skyline (complete with airplane landing).

Take care,

Jen

Resettlement, Markets and Sickies

Greeting everyone,

We just received some wonderful news: Bagira, one of our very best friends in Kyaka II refugee camp is being resettled to Canada!

(He is in the white shirt in the photo -it's better not to show his face until he's resettled)

When I met Bagira, IMC's Community Educator Supervisor, I knew immediately (like when I first met John), that I was meeting an extraordinary human being. He was very bright, but also very humble, with a kind face and a gentle voice. He was involved with every community activity in Kyaka. In his native DRC he had worked for an NGO, and was deeply committed to improving the lives and situations of those around him. His fluency in English, French, Kiswahili, and Kinyarwanda put him in high demand as a translator for meetings and events throughout the settlement, so he was often rushing from one meeting to where he had been summoned across camp to help with another. He was a passionate supporter of women's equality (some concepts he could articulate better than I), and worked tirelessly for IMC's anti-gender based violence and HIV/AIDS campaigns. He also spent hours of his free time inventing and researching energy-saving alternatives to the environmentally degradative means by which the refugees had to cook in Kyaka. When we left, he was busy researching a system of using the methane from cow manure to generate electricity for refugee houses in the settlement!

Bagira's wife Jose, is my age, very intelligent; a sweet, independent soul. But she wasn't afraid to stand up for her rights, and took on the camp authorities more than once when they were not responding to security threats or life-threatening illnesses affecting her family. I had a lot of admiration and respect for Jose, and was overjoyed when she was successful in gaining the one scholarship offered in Kyaka to pursue post-secondary studies. They have four beautiful children to whom the world has not always been kind. I can't think of a better family to be offered a new life in Canada. I will keep you all posted as to where in Canada Bagira and his family will be resettled, and hopefully some of you will be able to meet them, as you did John :-)

Before we got that fabulous news, I was busy playing maid/caregiver/nurse to my sick husband!

Seriously though, poor Brent. He's been working non-stop for two weeks, and then on our first real weekend (a 3-day one!), spikes a fever and is confined to bed. His bed-riddenness also happens to coincide with our first blue-sky day all week. And in contrast to last weekend where we were made to schlep a futon, microwave, TV and a week's groceries around Hillcrest in 40 degree heat, Saturday's sunshine came at a balmy 19 degrees. So I went for a run in the park.

It's now Sunday, and he's feeling a bit better, so we're going to try to hit up the Farmer's Market again, and I'll try to snap a few tourist shots in the process. Unfortuantely, the weather has decided to empathise with a pang of missing Victoria last week, and has clouded over again to remind me of home - aww!

Till next time folks!

Love,

Jen and (slowly healing) Brent

Settling in to #9

Hello Again,

Well, the first one worked, and I even got e-mails saying people liked it! So, off we go with post #2:

Life here continues to be grand (with the one major exception of missing home so much), as we get more settled, and start familiarising ourselves with our new community. I realised yesterday morning that this is each of our 9th move to a new city or country (not including moves within cities and moves back home so many times), so we're reasonably used to the process of getting out and quickly finding the basics like friends, housing, work, groceries and sushi. We're now at the stage where we're progressing from a general awareness of where we live, where Brent works, where to get money, and some good places to get groceries, to learning which roads we prefer to take to town, which places are good for lunch, bus schedules, better places to get groceries, and even finding a few friends!

Two of our new friends Jan and Don, took us on Sunday morning to the Hillcrest Farmer's Market. It was a sweltering morning -the heat wave was giving the thermometers a last push upwards, but the fruit was shaded in tightly rowed stands, and the heat just made the fresh-picked strawberries, oranges and grapefruit that much more fragrant. My favourite though, were the peaches! Many of the farms had free samples, and the fresh slices of white peach were to die for. They were so ripe and I bought so many in my excitement that by the time we got them home half of them were squished beyond recognition - I'll have to remember a little restraint next time!

Brent has been working long hours this week as he continues to get more familiar with his office and his role within it, a process he is really enjoying, though I think he is feeling a bit bogged-down by the day-to-day admin tasks when he feels the need to be focusing on the strategic planning for which he was hired. Luckily, he seems to be liking the team that he is working with, so that makes everything easier.

Meanwhile, in addition to my newly acquired domestic duties (those who know me will be laughing, I know - but wait till I post photos of the inside of this apartment!) I have started looking into volunteer opportunities with a number of agencies in San Diego, though I am still hoping that my main volunteering will be in the IRC office. My other main endeavour over the coming months will be to learn Spanish! I have researched some language programs here, and will hopefully be starting a series of back-to-back courses to take me from Beginner through to Intermediate High over the next 3-4 months!

Well there's always more to write, but I will save that for tomorrow. The heat wave finally broke, so we're back to precious cool weather, and hopefully a good night's sleep!

Adios mes amis (sorry, the language courses need to at least begin before I can write it all en Espanol!)

Jen

The Virgin Post

Hello please?

Is anyone out there?

As the title might have led you to believe, this is in fact my very first attempt at this phenomenon known as "blogging" (who came up with that ridiculous name?). At the moment, it looks like I'm just writing an e-mail, but soon I hope that this will be transformed into something that looks like my friend Cat's blog (www.catincairo.blogspot.com) though not black (I preferred black, but Cat's is black and I don't want people to think I'm just copying her), and with a few less camels. Though we do have the zoo down the road...

So, yes, Brent and I are indeed writing from San Diego, California! Well, I'm writing... he's at work, which is a fairly common theme of late, hence another reason for me to start a blog! Now while you may not think that this is as exciting or exotic a locale as we've been in the past, San Diego is certainly a foreign setting to a Canadian (a somewhat unwelcome one), and a small-town Vermont boy (who tends to forget that he is actually a California native, and from a larger city than this!).

After a midnight arrival, we woke to be assaulted by the bright sunshine, prolific palm trees, planes zooming overhead (the airport is virtually downtown, so when you arrive you feel like you're living on a runway), and high-speed freeways zigzagging across town. However, there was no time to hide under the covers, Brent had to be at work in 48hrs, during which we had to rent a car, figure out the city, find a lawyer, and lease an apartment that we could move into in 72hrs when the moving truck would arrive from B.C.!

Amazingly, Brent made it to work, I found us an apartment and we signed the lease 15min before the movers arrived at our new address. One week later we had cell phones, gym memberships, a land line, cable, internet, half a dozen pieces of new furniture, a window-box garden, and a somewhat stocked pantry. Tomorrow is our two-week anniversary, and while I'm still not ready to post interior photos of our apartment, (they'll be coming once we can get the mountain of cardboard boxes out of the living room), I think we're settling in pretty well!

It helps to be living in the best neighbourhood in SD of course. Hillcrest, as our friendly bank teller put it, is the "Gay Mecca of San Diego" (caveat: this is not meant to have any reference to Islam!). While we have many gay friends (some of whom I hope are reading this), this is the first time either of us have lived in a neighbourhood where sexual preferences are roughly equal - what a refreshing change!

Finally, one of the transitions of moving to a new place is often to look to confirm previously-held generalisations (i.e. stereotypes). These often provide some shallow comfort in the adjustment process before one is ready to accept the extreme complexity of human beings, and admit that no generalisation is absolute to any group, be that a nation, culture, ethnicity, race, or sexuality. So knowing and expecting this, we have started recognising some of our stereotypes of living in southern California, and/or of living in a majority gay community:

Stereotype 1. Urban/Suburban Southern California has been built around the automobile.

The common response of San Diegans to learning that we don't have a car (yet) is to: a) laugh, or b) remind us that we are in San Diego.

Stereotype 2. Gay neighbourhoods (or a community home to an open majority of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and families) are: very friendly, ueber-trendy, reasonably well-off, health-conscious and politically progressive.

Hillcrest, by means of justification, is a mix of upscale condos, beautiful little character homes, and has more fancy wine bars, boutique stores, European cafes, and exotic restaurants than you can shake a stick at! And our neighbours have been extremely friendly! E.g. we went to a garage sale on the weekend where the owner offered us mimosas, then borrowed a friend's truck, drove us home (via another garage sale for us to pick up a microwave), and helped us carry our new purchases inside!

Stereotype 3. "Everyone" gets work done.

I am referring of course to the cosmetic variety... While standing in line at a drug store on our first morning, a young couple in front of me started discussing the woman's recent Botox injections. When who should walk over, but the guy's friend -Mr. Botox! Mr. B had just opened up a new Botox clinic and was offering it for much less than the $900 the woman had paid for hers! Much networking and future wrinkle-less scheming ensued. Unfortunately, in addition to a general prevalence of blonder hair, darker tans, rounder breasts, and smoother skin, we also find San Diegans who are a bit too addicted to their plastic (or toxin) FYI - it is very difficult to maintain eye contact with someone who's face looks like it's got saran-wrap stretched over half of it.

Stereotype 4. Californians are obsessed with little dogs.

Whether it's model-esque women teetering in heels, with over sized shades, and Gucci bags with little furry heads poking out of their thousand-dollar Burberry purses, or the plethora of little dogs outfitted to match their flamboyant owners parading through Hillcrest, San Diego is a heaven for pampered pint-sized pooches. In Hillcrest alone there are more doggy beauty parlors than gyms!

Stereotype 5. California loooooves yoga!

While I have yet to check out San Fransisco or LA's yoga scenes, San Diego (and Hillcrest in particular) seem plastered with yoga studios, yoga fashion, and eclectic Buddhist decor with not-so-enlightened price tags! Perhaps the astronomic expense to practice yoga is supposed to lead practitioners into Buddha's fasting-induced enlightenment?

Well that's all from me for now (sheesh this got long - I'll try to keep future posts a bit more modest in length) - time to go see if this posting stuff really works!

Till next time,

Jen

p.s. Now that I've told you so much about here, I better include some photos for those of you who haven't seen them on facebook yet...

p.p.s Ok, I tried with the photos, and no matter how many times I fix the spacing it never works out right on the preview screen - I give up!