Bedouin living - kinda

We moved into 51 Wood Street in Manly 6 days ago!  This house is beautiful, and ultra modern: stainless steel countertops, automatic everything, and top-of-the line appliances that are lost on us.  The house itself is over 100 years old, but the interior is brand new.This house is way too grown up and nice for us, but somehow we convinced them to let us live here, and with a dog!  Perhaps they have questionable intelligence.    

Our airfreight arrived the afternoon we moved in and was to graduate us from living out of suitcases, which we’ve been doing since Dec 20^th, to camping, or Bedouin living.  Our airfreight consisted of kitchen items, minus large bowls, knives, and casserole dishes – I’m guessing those are still crossing the Pacific - work clothes for Mark, a few toys and books, the double BOB stroller, the boys’ bikes, and aerobeds. 

Mark and I have been looking forward to our aerobed since sleeping on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress at the temp apartment left us tossing and turning all night.  Mark bought a special adapter and converter to use on our US items that needed electricity; namely the aerobeds.  He didn’t voice it at the time, but it turns out Mark was a bit nervous about using the converter on the aerobed.  I was thinking, “No worries, it’ll just blow up, it just needs air, how hard can that be?”  Well after the plug sparked and the lights on the aerobed went dead, it did in fact BLOW up, and not the way we wanted it to.  It was 7pm and we knew we were in for more Bedouin living than was comfortable.  Yes, we had to sleep on the floor.  Even while travelling through Europe in the sketchiest of hostels I never had to sleep on the floor, it was more like sharing a mattress on the floor.  Nope, it was floor sleeping for us.  Now the challenge would be where to get an aerobed the next day since it was also Mark’s first day of work, and yours truly was still not ready to drive.  I’m a kept woman because I can’t drive my boys and self!  My fears about driving run beyond turning the windshield wipers on instead of the turn signals, I’m pretty sure I’m going to sideswipe a car.  That’ll be another post… 

The yard at 51 Wood is lush, manicured, full of plants and flowers that I have no idea about, and most importantly, well maintained.  When we found out the gardening and yard maintenance was included in our rent I’m pretty sure I saw Mark do the happy dance in his head.  Another thing that is maintained is the built in gas BBQ and the pool.  Happy dance again!  The pool has an automatic cover that rolls out and in by the turn of a knob.  The boys fight over opening and closing the pool, luckily, there are 2 functions: opening and closing, and 2 boys; I knew we didn’t have more kids for a reason.  Really, this house has so many buttons one can push the boys are going ballistic.  All of the blinds in the bedrooms roll up and down by the push of a button, and those buttons happen to be on remotes!  Imagine the utter elation of my boys, “Remotes in EACH room that make something work automatically?!”  It’s almost too much for them to handle, as they end up fighting over who can push the button.  There is also a garage, with a garage opener, again more fighting about who gets to open the garage.  Mark and I have never lived in a house together that has a garage; AGAIN, this house is too grown up for us.  There is also a storage space, which is where I saw my first scary spider so it is now called the spider room.

    

The appliances in our house are Miele.  There is a binder the owner compiled with the owner’s manuals for each appliance and we’ve been glued to each manual because the appliances are way smarter than us.  The manual we’ve been wedded to is the stove manual, or excuse me, the induction hob manual.  It’s a ceramic cooktop, which I wasn’t thrilled about because I prefer gas, and I couldn’t even turn it on, hence being wedded to the manual.  It turns out - after finding out the hard way  - that you need special pans for this “hob.”  Scene, it’s 6pm and the boys are melting, needing to eat and sleep.  I throw some water in one of my pots that has journeyed long and hard from CA, put it on the hob and try to turn on the stove only to find out all pots and pans have to be magnetic in order to work on this stove.  That night the boys ate avocado, garlic bread, hard-boiled eggs, and carrots with hummus.  Turns out, the owner provided some pots and pans that work on this stove but were tucked away in a drawer.  Guess I’ll put my pots and pans in the spider room.          

As I mentioned, our yard is lush with tall trees in ours and the neighboring yards.  Living in those trees are some crazy ass birds that make all kinds of noise.  We were awoken at 5:30am on our first morning - confused and pissed after having slept on the floor - by a kookaburra laughing his ass off, “Hey mofo’s welcome to Australia suckas!”  If you’ve never heard what a kookaburra sounds like, check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0ZbykXlg6Q

In addition to kookaburras laughing freely in our trees, there are white cockatoos flying around aimlessly screeching.  These are birds that are kept in cages as pets in the US, here they sit on a tree branch or fence post -  I feel as if I’m living in the rain forest! 

After having an informative walk-through with the owner, we found out the amazing history of this house.  The house was built around the turn of the century for the Mayor of Manly.  It changed hands many times over since then, but the woman who owns it now, our landlord Sharyn, bought it 12 years ago and turned it into a backpackers hostel.  There were 18 backpacker rooms throughout the house.  She didn’t go into too much detail, but rolled her eyes and said it had to be gutted after that and there was a major asbestos problem that needed to be addressed.  I didn’t inquire further although I wanted to.  It took her 3 years to renovate this house due to battles with the Manly city council and permit issues; she said she was either stupid, or the most persistent person ever.  She walked me through the house and told me what was original and what had been restored.  The glass windows around the front door are original and the window directly above the door reads Ashbourne, which was the name of the house.  

There are 3 other doors in the house with similar glass windows that she had commissioned to look just like the originals and said there is only one man in all of Australia who does that kind of work.  Again, I’m thinking, “And you’re letting US live here?!”  I just smiled and showed my deep appreciation for the beautiful craftsmanship, as I set my cup down on the box we are using for our dining room table.   

When Mark and I first looked at this house we had seen so many crappy houses that we were blown away by the cleanliness, modern features, location, and yard that we didn’t look at the fine details of the house.  Now that we’re living here we realize it’s far more amazing than we first saw.  Hopefully we can fill it with some furniture soon, as the Bedouin lifestyle is not for me.  Sometimes I think about our "stuff," in a container, on a ship, crossing the Pacific.  What stories our "stuff" will be able to tell about its journey!  Just like I wonder what stories this house has to tell about its journey of housing different decades of people.  Hmmmm...      

My feet are sunburned

Yesterday was probably the warmest, most beautiful day we've had yet.  We took the ferry to Manly to register Parker for Kindy.

Parker's new school is a 154 year old 3-story brick building.  Upon entrance it smells a bit musty and old like walking into an old person's house, but the character of the place grows on you and the smell goes away.  The principal met us in the front office and walked us through all the paperwork and then gave us a tour of the school.

The principal, Ms. Black, probably in her mid-40's, had dark hair, big blue eyes, and a warm smile.  Her energy comforted me; Parker could care less.  When you meet Aussie's here they act like they already know you, as if you've been friends before.  The first thing Ms. Black asked us was, "Where in the US are you from?"  Then she proceeded to tell us all about her trip to San Diego where she got on a cruise ship and went all the way through the Panama Canal and then to the Caribbean.  While she was chatting I absorbed the atmosphere around us.  She was the only person there, other than a janitor, and it was 8 days before school started.  And the fact that she was helping us with this process was astounding; where were the school secretaries?  This is a school of 600 students and the principal was so calm I wondered whether she'd been drinking.  At my old school in Corte Madera 8 days before school started you would see the principal sweating, red faced, and dropping f-bombs about the asshole parents she was dodging phone calls from.  Also, ALL the teachers would be running around like mad preparing their classrooms.  At Manly Village, it was the opposite, and it's not as if anything was ready for the first day of school; everything was a mess!  How is it that education in Australia is more advanced than in the US?  What are we doing wrong in the US?!  Maybe we need to drink more?

As we toured the school, stepping around copy machines, desks, and boxes the most note worthy thing were the wall-sized Smartboards in every classroom!  I almost broke down looking at these beautiful pieces of equipment.  A Smartboard is an interactive white board where you can project images from a computer and use your finger like a mouse, and it's also used as a dry erase white board.  They're awesome!  A 154 year old building with better technology than new schools in the US.  The classrooms, however messy and disorganized, were bright and full of everything a classroom should contain.  I was so excited for Parker at this point and realized I hadn't stopped smiling since we'd entered the school and the odd smell left my nose.  Parker on the other hand walked around stoic and quiet with his socks pulled up to his knees.  When absorbing anything new Parker is either quiet, or laughing.  After the tour and all the paperwork I asked him, "Parker, what do you think?!"  He said, "Good."  Oh my little deep feeler.

From the school, amped and excited, we walked across the street to have lunch outside at a little cafe.  The Bieber looking Italian dude with a thick accent asked us where we were from after giggling at my question for more napkins; nappys are diapers in Oz, napkins are called serviettes.  I thought it ironic that he was asking us where we were from when his English was slightly conversational at best.

We moved on from lunch and walked the less than 1km distance between Parker's school and our new house.  I imagined myself walking this same route everyday taking Parker to and fro school - oh wow the beach life.  We stopped outside our new house on 51 Wood Street (yes Dave, I said Wood) and gawked at the front of our new house since we don't have keys yet and can't go in.  Then we took some pictures of the beach from the street in front of our house.  The house is on a corner lot and is literally one block from Little Manly Cove beach.

We proceeded down the little hill and with jaws dropped stared at our neighborhood beach.  It's summer vacation so there were kids everywhere.  Teenagers in groups standing awkwardly together - the boys pushing each other around, the girls sucking in their stomachs and playing with their hair.  Little kids were everywhere playing in the sand and splashing in the barely lapping surf.

Mark dove right in the water and Parker followed.  Reid looked cautiously at the beach with trepidation written on his face.  I'm sure he was thinking, "What the hell is this?"  He creeped closer to the water as I urged him to stick his toes in the sand and let the water roll over his feet.  As his piggies touched the water he ran away yelling, "Mommy!"  I thought, whatever, he has time to get used to it.  Mark, Parker, and I threw the football around as Reid inched closer and closer to the surf.  Thirty minutes later he was lying on his tummy body surfing the tiny waves letting the water carry him up and back.  He even got friendly with some other tikes.  He took their watering can and started helping them build a mount of sand that I'm sure they thought was a magnificent castle.  It was a shame to tear them away from the beach but my translucent skin was starting to sizzle and we needed to catch the ferry back to the city.

It was the kind of day where you take a deep breath and say, wow, that rocked.  However next time, I'll remember to put sunscreen on my feet too - rookie move!   

        

Oz residents for one week!

Friday marked one week in Sydney.  As thrilling as it is to be here, it doesn’t come without challenges.  Some of those challenges include:

1. A visit to the doctor for both boys; Reid has pink eye, and Parker swollen lymph-nodes.  
2. Bloody toes for mom and dad - who builds an apartment with a 1 inch lip up to the bathrooms?!
3. Getting Parker to eat food that isn’t grown/made in America – although we’ve been lying to him telling him he’s eating the same strawberries he ate in America because, duh, all strawberries come from Toluca, CA (is there even a Toluca, CA?)
4. Seeing a total of 9 houses over 2 days; one house included a charming bong on the patio table, cigarette butts on the deck, dirty dishes in the sink, unmade beds and dirty laundry scattered about all for the bargain price of $6k a month! 
5. Our first experience with puke!  That’s right, our boys have NEVER thrown up before this week.  In the car on the way back to the city after looking at houses ALL day, Reid puked!  Thankfully it was not our rental car, but the rental car of the relocation woman we’re working with.  Sorry Deborah!    
6. Parker fell down the stairs at one of the houses we went to see – those of you that know me well, which is basically anyone reading this, know how I feel about people falling – it’s frickin hilarious!  The look on his face as he was rolling down the stairs said, “Oh fuck, I’m falling down the stairs!”  But it was an impressive fall, he rolled, and that’s what I reinforced as he was screaming afterward, “Hey Parker, you totally fell like a pro, you rolled!” 
7. Piloting the car was crazy!  We’re on the wrong side of the car AND street!  Thank goodness for the, “Oh shit,” handle.  The Harbor Bridge was closed for the first time ever this weekend so we had to navigate our way through the tunnel.  We went through the Harbor Tunnel a total of 3 times in order to make it to our destination – “Big Ben, Parliament!”  However Mark did an amazing job conducting the vehicle considering the elements. 

Now on to some of the awesomeness!

1. Australians are so nice!  They’re truly helpful and happy people.  We were illegally parked trying to figure out how to get to the Harbor Tunnel and a “City Ranger,” equates to a meter maid type guy, approached our vehicle, I rolled down my window and in my Yankee drawl said, “We’re lost.  We just moved here and are trying to figure out how to get to the tunnel.”  Instead of saying, “Move your car ma’am,” like they would in the US, he said, “No worries!  It can be tricky, let me help.”  He proceeded to give us more than detailed directions to the tunnel and then said, “Take your time, no worries.”  They say no worries a lot here.
2.  The weather rocks!  It’s summer baby!  Haven’t worn a sweater since we’ve been here. 
3. They like to drink and gamble.  From our apartment, which is in the CBD (downtown), we can here the partyers down below.  Happy drunks!
4. This city is beautiful, picturesque.  The energy is warm, comforting and safe.  I’m not looking over my shoulder worrying about my backpack being ripped off my person.  Any direction you walk there is a site to see: the Opera House, the Harbor Bridge, Darling Harbor.  The water views are endless and so beautiful.
5. There are thunder and lightning storms here!  Mark and I drank a bottle of wine on the balcony the other night and watched the electric show – it was awesome! 
6. They have NFL football on TV!  Bless the Aussies and their love of sports because we get to watch the Playoffs!  Ever since the Niners have started kicking major ass this season I’ve been terrified of the prospect of not being able to watch the Playoffs.  It’s been 10 years since we’ve been in the Playoffs and this just happens to be the year we move abroad.  But not to fear, Niner football will be in our living room! 

We almost didn't make it!

It was the day of our departure, January 4, 2012 at 10am.  Mark and I were packing and tidying with the whole day to plan and organize.  While packing his carry-on backpack Mark asks a very simple question, “Steph, where are the passports and do you want them in your backpack, or do you want me to take them?”  A wave of heat ran through my body.  I’ve never felt so desperate in my life, because in that instant I realized our passports were on a ship on their way to Australia.  I LOST my shit!  I had forgotten to pull out the passports when the movers came to pack our house.  The amazing thing is, they never crossed my mind before that moment!  I even had an email exchange with one of the relocation people about our Australian visas and she mentioned they should be in our passports and STILL, I never thought about where our passports were!  I pulled out operating manuals on items I gave to friends like our vacuum cleaner and tea kettle, but I forgot the fucking passports!  

Needless to say, a frenzy began.  Mark called United and they basically said, “You’re screwed dude.”  I got on the phone with the passport agency, and they basically said, “You’re screwed lady.”  In order to apply for new passports we needed our birth certificates.  And the kicker was that our birth certificates and everything of importance was in the same file in my desk on a ship to Australia!  I could have gotten the boys’ certificates that day, but mine would have taken a week, and Mark’s, well, that would have been close to impossible since he was born in some tiny, crazy town in South Africa called Nababeep!  At this point I went into our bedroom, climbed in bed, put the sheets over my head, curled up into the fetal position, and wailed.  It was not good!  

Then Mark got on the phone with the lawyers at Salesforce and they gave him some good info, basically, show up at the passport agency in San Francisco with new passport pictures and beg.  Mark made an emergency appt with the passport agency for 12:30, it was 11:40.  We had one hour to get new passport pictures taken, fill out all the necessary documents, and get to the city.  I rushed to put the car seats in the car we borrowed from my friend Elizabeth’s husband – since we had already sold both of our cars!  We then jumped in the car and realized we didn't have the car key.  Reid had been playing with the car key and we couldn’t find it!  It took us about 15 minutes to find the key – it felt like an hour – and then we zoomed off to the Kinko’s store in Sausalito to get passport pictures taken.  It was 11:45 when we pulled out of the driveway.  The picture taking process was relatively simple, except that we couldn't get Reid to look at the camera and I looked forlorn, depressed, and plain horrible in my picture.  At 12:17 we were back in the car ready to head to the city.  Elizabeth printed out all the necessary application documents, brought them to us in Sausalito as we were pulling out of the Kinko's parking lot.  Mark drove like a bat out of hell as I filled out the documents trying not to throw up.  


When we arrived at the passport agency Mark dropped me off while he parked the car and brought the boys in.  I rushed inside sweaty, not having showered that day, and desperate.  While going through the metal detector the security guard looked at me and said, "It's okay, everything will be okay."  I wanted to kill him, but instead I said, "Thanks," and started to weep.  My hands were shaking as I approached the appointment window.  We were 20 minutes late and I knew I needed to kiss this guy's ass, as he held the key to our future trip to Oz.  His name was Bruce.  He was a short, skinny elderly guy with long fingernails and a gray ponytail.  I explained the situation and he just shook his head and said, "Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost you?"  I said, "I don't care, please help us."  He nodded.  I shakily handed him a mountain of incomplete paperwork, our drivers licenses', and our itinerary - that's it.  Mark arrived and he sent us to another area to finish filling out the paperwork.  In all of the madness I thankfully remembered to bring the iPad to distract the boys from the chaos.  They were as happy as clams.  We stuck them underneath the counter we were writing on and they watched Caillou.  Oh Caillou, how I hate that bald kid, but at that moment he was my best friend.  


We brought the paperwork back to Bruce and he gave us a number and said, "When this number comes up go to the window it tells you to."  No emotion, no, "You guys are dumb," just a blank stare.  When our number appeared we quickly made our way over to the window where behind the glass sat Liu, a middle-aged Asian man who definitely held more of our Oz future in his hands.  We presented him with our pile and he was expressionless.  All I could think about was oh please Mark don't piss him off!  He explained the process was going to be expensive because he had to do background checks on all of us.  What this meant I will never know, but he typed away in his computer as our hearts pounded.  He began with my application.  After about 10 minutes he said, "Stephanie, your application is accepted and I can issue you a passport today by 3:30."  What a fucking relief, but we had to wait to see if the other applications were approved.  One by one, all of our applications were approved and we would all have passports by 3:30.  We only had to pay a nominal fee of $1396!  We handed him our credit card and took a huge sigh of relief.  It was 2:00.  We slowly left the passport agency, got some lunch, and anxiously awaited for 3:30.            


At 3:45 we had the passports in hand.  We raced home to finish packing, purging, and cleaning.  Eleanor, Elizabeth, and Bobbi came over to help us clean, pack, and play with the boys.  By 7pm we were on our way to the airport.  

When we arrived at the airport with our 18 pieces of luggage, 11 bags to check and 7 carry-ons we had one last hiccup in our way; our Australian visas were tied to our old passports.  The United check-in women were so kind and got on the horn with Australia and worked everything out for us.  We were in the clear with boarding passes in hand.  


The moral of the story is, be like Sandra Bullock in the movie "While you were Sleeping," and carry your passport with you at all times!