Santa's a Criminal and a Stalker; or, Traditions on This Rock

GTMO TRADITIONS
We started the holiday season as usual by dragging our feet before dragging the decorations out. Boy 2 complained about not wanting to put up a tree. However, a few boxes of ornaments came out of storage, and he got into the spirit. Heck, even Rodney got in on the holiday fun.

And doesn't he look handsome? I'm thinking about making hats for all holidays. Rodney in a green bowler for St. Patrick's Day, Rodney in a bonnet for Easter---the possibilities are endless.

We are celebrating our 4th Christmas here, so we've had experiences that have become traditions. We always go to the parade, which is small and quaint and always a hit. (Or in some cases, we get hit). Boy 2 wanted to sit this one out because he wanted candy. That's my boy, motivated by sugar! This was the best parade yet, with lots of groups on island represented. There were floats pulled by trucks, trucks decorated, and lots of improvising with what you get here (Remember: you get what you get, and you don't throw a fit). My favorite float was from IOM, or the International Organization for Migration, which was a float of Cuban migrants entitled "The Migrant Express." It definitely made me smile. Unfortunately, my camera battery died before the parade started, so you'll just have to trust me that it was very creative. The happy Cuban migrants waving and saying, "Merrrry Chrrriiiistmas, everybody!" in thick accents made it even that much better.

And how appropriate that our refugees get to participate in a holiday parade which celebrates the birth of a Son of refugees.

One thing that unfortunately hasn't changed is the mail service. It is still slow, unreliable, and packages often come in looking like they've been dragged behind a truck, run over a few times, and taped back together.

I was a little sad this summer when our then-9 year old blurted out, "Mom, there is no Santa, right?" Instead of confirming his info, I questioned him. "Exactly why do you think this?" He said, "I have 2 reasons, actually. First, he is supposedly a man who goes in your house to put toys under the tree. That's basically breaking and entering. Second, 'he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake'---that means he's a stalker, and that's just creepy." I couldn't help but laugh. And not believing in Santa does make our lives easier when we have to explain why the presents haven't shown up---the presents we ordered before Thanksgiving, BTW. It's just part of life for living overseas and using the military postal service. 

The packages are drifting in, and at this rate, we will get to celebrate Christmas through Epiphany. 

NEW TRADITIONS 

We told Boy 2 last year that if we were here another year, we would put up a special GTMO tree. Honestly, I never dreamed we'd be here for yet ANOTHER GTMO Christmas, but it's Year 4 and here we are. A GTMO tree has to match the location, and our new one does perfectly. 

Confession: It is really difficult to get into the holiday spirit when it's hotter than seven Hells outside. I am weary of eternal summer. I'm tired of sweat, I'm tired of muggy heat, and I'm really, really tired of the never-ending hordes of mosquitoes and no-seeums.  I dream of a white Christmas, and if not a white one, one that requires coats and hats and gloves and best of all, scarves. I will one day have these things again, but in the land of eternal summer, we get shorts, flip-flops, and lots and lots of DEET. 

But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I spent 3 nights non-stop with friends. It was lovely. Whether it's a poker game, a night-before-Christmas meal, or a Christmas day feast, celebrating GTMO-style means you are never short of friends who make you feel a little less homesick and a whole lot more loved.  They helped make our GTMO house our (temporary) home, and we are eternally grateful for the wonderful friendships we've made here. 

With that---Merry Day-After-Christmas from Fantasy Island/Hotel California/Gilligan's Island/La Isla Bonita!

Gratitude; or, Wine, not Whine

Today's weather in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba: 86º and windy

One of the pleasant surprises of living here is the number of friends and family who write or call and say, "If there is ANYTHING you need, anything, we will send it to you"---and they mean it.

It is rather overwhelming and humbling.

And it is a difficult question to ponder. Do I need anything? Yes and no.

After several months here, you learn to live without many creature comforts readily available in the US. I have managed to whittle my toiletries down to the bare basics. I once had 4 drawers and three cabinets full of hair and face stuff---most of it I never even used. It all fits in a shoe box now. We live somewhere with daily heat and humidity and with only one hair salon that does very, very basic hairstyles, so I have had ONE haircut in 14 months. Yes, one.  Since I quit getting those oh-so-attractive spiral perms in the 80s, I haven't spent more than 10 minutes in the morning fixing my hair, so this has really not crimped my (lack of) style in any way.

Can someone send me good hair genes? Or a hair stylist that can work with my bad hair?

You can't get some basic clothing items here. At first, I was delusional. If I tell myself I really don't need clothes I can't get here, then I can live without them. But who am I kidding? And when it's things like work shoes or a good bra, it's almost impossible to order the items online---some things you need to see in person or try on. I'm sitting and looking at a pair of shoes I'll probably never take the time off work to stand in line at the post office and fill out the customs form to return (after I find a box they will fit in), even if I paid quite a bit for them. Because time is money, too, and I am not a patient person most days.

So can someone send me a shoe store where I can try on shoes? Or patience to stand in line at the post office, which is only open 6-7 hours a day, five days a week?

How about large jalapeños, Texas pink grapefruit, or real milk? Fresh chicken or Sherry? Round steak? Brisket? A pork butt roast? None of those are available here (or if so, only 1-2 times since we've been here).

Or a bookstore? Or even a book section that has more than 20 titles that aren't mostly religious/inspirational titles?

Internet that doesn't take 24 hours to download a one hour television show I can't get on cable here (and only if the internet doesn't time out before it downloads)?

Pearl Light beer? A purse that isn't $100+? Something (or someone) that will kill the ever-present mold in my bathroom?

When people ask if they can get us anything, I am grateful, but have a hard time coming up with anything that isn't petty. The things we really want are things that can't be sent through the mail. We have managed to improvise pretty well here, and we have learned to do without what can't be improvised.

I will say I was completely ecstatic last week to get a bottle of Dr. Bronner's Lavendar Castille Soap in the mail (I've missed the Moral ABCs!). I've gotten some amazing and thoughtful care packages from friends and family since I've been here: Zero bars, great-smelling bubble bath, Turkish coffee, German chocolates, Café du Monde beignet mix, HEB brand borracho beans, Christmas cards from former students or college roommates, great novels, BACON!, grits, holiday decorations, plant bulbs and seeds, clothes for the kids, running gear, and more.

I am thankful for having so many thoughtful people in my life. If I don't get back to you when you've asked if I need something, please don't think it's because I'm not listening or that I don't appreciate the thought. I say this in all sincerity---just go enjoy a good home cooked meal with fresh ingredients, or a night out at a Chinese/Korean/Mexican/Italian restaurant, or spend an hour at a book store perusing the aisles without buying anything, or try on some shoes.  Know you can live without any of it, but enjoy every moment for me of all the small things I once took for granted.

One more thing---please don't think I'm wallowing in self-pity. I can quickly name things (other than thoughtful friends) to be thankful for. While the deep south has been experiencing Snowmageddon 2014, we've enjoyed gorgeous, sunny weather. We didn't have a run on (super homogenized) milk and bread! For the first time in my life, I've seen almost every Oscar nominated movie---for free, outdoors under the beautiful Cuban sky. My husband has the most killer flip-flop tan I've ever seen in my life. Even after stressful, bad, rotten, no-good weeks at work (we do have some of those here, too),  I can vent and then count on laughs over a glass or three of wine with some true-blue friends I know we'll stay in touch with long after Gitmo is in our past.

Dives, Goals, and Map Pins; or, A Trifecta of GTMO Firsts

Today's weather in GTMO: high of 85º, partly cloudy, but mostly sunny

Some more GTMO firsts: 

I got to dive two new places this weekend as part of my final two classes for my Advanced Open Water certification. It only took 4 months from beginning to end to get the certification, thanks to sickness (ear infection), bad weather and poor diving conditions, and crazy weekend conflicts. 

The whole point of getting an advanced certification here is it opens up several dive locations that are restricted by the base to divers with a basic open certification. It was actually good to get a refresher on some skills---it was 21 years ago I got my original dive certification, and around 10 years ago that I took a refresher class (complete with a dive in Lake Travis, Austin----DIS-GUS-TING). 

I loved both dives. I did my deep dive (89') at The Slot. From the top is the best views of GTMO, in my opinion (the lighthouse and mountains in the background). You go down some steep stairs and through a little channel, then hang onto a rope for dear life as the current rips you towards an open space. Once there, we went to a wall that is very deep (hundreds---maybe thousands?---of feet deep in spots) and goes all the way to Honduras. It's kind of cool to think that it's part of the same wall that I dove on my honeymoon almost 21 years ago. 

Cable Beach was the first place we swam when we moved here, and I really loved the bright coral and fish during my first dive there. It was shallow---only 30' for most of the dive---and the visibility was much better. I finished my Navigation class there. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I was much more nervous doing the compass work than doing the night dive. I am geographically impaired. I really, honestly have a hard time using a compass. Seriously---what sort of dummy can't figure out a compass? 

That would be me. . . 

And another first. I'm playing soccer, but instead of women's league, it's more like skills practice and pick-up games. Tonight I played co-ed---first time doing that since I was pregnant with boy #2 way back in 2005. Not only did my team win our fun game, but I scored a goal. Gooooool! Yes, I'm bragging. I'm the oldest (or next to oldest) person at every game, so I can brag a little. 

Lastly, the Map of Lost Mail has another pin to add, and the first of 2014. 

We are STILL getting a trickling in of Christmas presents. We got this very sad looking box last week: 

I'm not sure why it was rewrapped and resealed. Was it falling apart? Did someone get curious and decided to open it and take a peek? 

What I didn't realize until I started opening it was the sticker from yet another exciting destination for my Map of Lost Mail. Can you spot it? 

My mail has now been to Catania, Sicily! If you don't know anything about Catania, it is the second largest town in Sicily and sits in the shadows of Mt. Etna. No, I haven't been there---I just looked it up online. It is really gorgeous, if the Internet is to be believed. 

And now, here's my latest version of my mail map: Oman, Italy, Sicily, Spain, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. I haven't been to any of these places and would like to visit most. (I've never talked to anyone about visiting Oman, but if you have been and liked it, convince me to visit so I can say I want to go to all of these places). 

The Latest Version of the Map of Lost Mail

Rainy Days and Mondays; or, The Map of Lost Mail is here!!

After many months of a drought, and restrictions on all water usage resulting in a yard that is an oh-so-attractive shade of dirt brown (because that's all there is---dirt), I'm happy to see rain the last few days. In fact, it's sort of like our rainy season here (okay, it's actually called hurricane season, but that tends to freak people out).

Pedro the Yard Chicken stopped by to pose in the dirt. 

We do have our "hurricane kit" all ready to go---lots of gallons of water, flashlights and batteries, canned and boxed goods. I have to admit, though, that the most exciting offering for hurricane kits is this product, which I believe is essential to any household facing the uncertainty of the season that is upon us:

It's kind of beautiful, isn't it? 

You don't realize how sunny and beautiful it is living in eternal summer until you have a few rain soaked days thrown in. You also haven't lived until your internet goes out every time it rains. At least we have power this time.

It wasn't all bad today; I did manage to FINALLY get a long-awaited package.

Living on a military base overseas means that your mail is sent to either an APO (Army & Air Force Post Office) or, in the case of the Navy, an FPO (Fleet Post Office). Our mail first goes to a sorting facility---at one time it was in New York, but now it's Chicago---and then goes to our tiny local post office, which doesn't have any actual mail boxes for its customers. When you send mail to me, it goes to the post office, and then someone from work has to pick it up and deliver it to my office mail box. The entire base works this way. The mail is only flown in two days a week now, so mail delivery day is exciting business around here.  Sometimes we get packages, which is for many of us, our connection to life's many necessities you can't find here, and if the sender happens to be my mom, the package is packed with Zero candy bars.

I don't know if you are familiar with Zero bars, but you should be. Hershey describes them as a "unique combination of caramel, peanut and almond nougat covered with delicious white fudge." You may know them as the white candy bar in the ugly silver wrapper. Don't let the ugly wrapper fool you. The Zero bar is, along with purple speckled butterbeans, bacon, and red Skittles, one of life's perfect foods.

A long-awaited package makes even the most dreary, rainy Monday seem a little nicer.

While visiting Mississippi in July, the first thing we did was find some sporting goods stores so we could buy the kids baseball gloves that fit. Our oldest had outgrown his little league glove, which we could have passed down to the youngest, except Boy #1 is a leftie and Boy #2 isn't. So onward we went, hitting several stores in Hattiesburg until we found two nice gloves that will hopefully serve the kids well for softball and baseball season.

Somehow in the frenzy of packing, the gloves got left at my parents, but never fear---my mom went down to the local P.O. a couple of days later and sent them (along with some Zero bars) via Priority Mail to Cuba.

I should also mention that Priority Mail still takes 3-4 weeks to get here from the States. I can't really tell if it's worth paying more to send anything that method, because once the mail hits the sorting facility in Chicago, it can't be traced.

And that can be a problem.

Gloves left Mississippi on July 19. Gloves hit the sorting facility in Chicago on July 21.

Gloves got to Cuba on September 9.

Gloves took a detour along the way

to APO 09833.

Not FPO 09593.

This would be Sharm El Sheik, Egypt.

Oops.

I have started a map to mark all the exotic and interesting places my mail has accidentally traveled while I'm stuck here in Hotel California land ("You can check any time you like, but you can never leave").

It's actually a positive thing that we've had such misfortune, since I managed to spend most of my high school World History classes doodling on my Trapper Keeper and daydreaming about Rick Springfield. Now I have motivation to break out a map and play Where In the World was My Lost Mail. If we've managed to have mail go to Muscat, Oman; Madrid, Spain;  Livorno, Italy; and Sharm El Sheik, Egypt in only 10 months, we'll have many, many more interesting locations for our Map of Lost Mail before we leave Cuba.

And in case you are wondering, Zero bars that have traveled through three countries and are a little melted still taste delicious.

Befuddling, Excruciating, and Maddening; or, No Regrets

It's hard going through the passages of life so far away from your loved ones.

It's not just death I'm talking about. I have dealt with death and grieving since I've been here, but I am talking about the not-so-depressing, just everyday things that most people take for granted when they live near their long-time friends and family. Things like birthdays and anniversary parties, get-togethers with the girlfriends, and spur-of-the-moment phone calls for advice.

My husband is an AF Brat, lived in Europe for a large part of his childhood. He didn't experience monthly or every-two-month visits to the grandparents, yearly family reunions, and summers with the cousins, and he turned out relatively normal. But the thought never occurred to me as a child that I'd be one of those people who sees my parents only once or twice a year. It is what my life has become. It's the one downside to living so far away.

It doesn't mean that you can't still be close to friends and family when you live out of the country. There are emails and letters (and care packages---oh, how I love care packages!). There are the occasional phone calls---although calling here is a real pain. When calling on our calling card (to avoid exorbitant prices), our family members call a 1-800 number, enter a PIN, then our international phone number. All in all, it's like 28 numbers. At least we aren't in the days of rotary dial phones.

It doesn't work, but it's still cool. 

This is the one thing I miss while in the Commissary (well, other than actually having a well-stocked store---Why have we been out of plain yogurt for almost a month?? Why don't we have food coloring AT ALL? Why are the eggs two weeks out of date? How are we almost out of all school supplies? Okay, rant is over): I miss calling my grandmother from the grocery store. I used to call my grandmother at least once or twice a month to ask her how to make something. It would go something like this: "Grammaw, if I'm buying fresh turnip greens, WHAT do I do with these things?" She'd give me a quick run-down on how to pick good ones, how to clean them, and how to prepare and cook them (and when my grandfather was alive, he'd chime in, too).

Our mail doesn't appear to be coming at all---we used to have three mail flights per week, and then it was cut down to two. I haven't gotten mail in over two weeks. Our +4 zip just changed for the second time since I've been here, so I'm hoping that the mail's just a little slow and that it didn't end up in Oman or Europe again.

Just because sometimes life here is slower, with 25 mph speed limits and only once-a-week shipments of groceries (or even mail) on the barge, it doesn't mean life is necessarily slower. Because of the pace of everything, I feel like I do more work than ever. Our painfully slow internet and communication issues make me very impatient and I feel like I'm spinning my wheels, since I'm a "work smarter, not harder" kinda gal. There are days that I have to refrain from banging my head on the wall in frustration because I find taking 15 minutes to check email absolutely excruciating. And don't get me started on the inefficiencies of working for the World's Biggest Bureaucracy---it's maddening what it takes just to get much-needed items, such as book glue (no, not the same as Elmer's or a hot glue gun) so I can do my job the right way.  I know Those People in Washington could care less about how budget sequestration is affecting my ability to salvage damaged books in my little library. I have had my mini-breakdown over our insufficient resources, and once I let go, I really do enjoy my job.

I can truly say that for the first time in my life, I am able to say I'm a "work hard, play harder" person, as well. It's what I've wanted to attain for a long time. I can finally see tangible rewards---not in material items, but even better. I can go to the beach for sea glass hunting, swimming, or diving almost any day. I spend afternoons with my husband and kids. The weather here is fantastic. Less choices for goods and restaurants, less distance for work commutes, and a wardrobe for one season altogether mean more savings in the bank. I spend more time cooking (which I mostly enjoy) and we spend more time sitting around the dinner table as a family. I have time to take art classes and pottery classes, which give me great joy. My oldest gave up cello, but he's spending lots of time playing the guitar (he's now up to 3 of them, 2 electric and an acoustic) and the bass, and I don't believe he'd be practicing so much if he had all the distractions that teens have in the States. My youngest has a spectacular farmer's tan, thanks to spending hours outside instead of in front of a computer or television.

Pie. Yum. H helped me make this apple pie from scratch. 

There are many hardships to living here---some emotional, others a matter of inconvenience---but as we are slowly coming upon our one year anniversary, I can say without any hesitation that we have no regrets.

Oh, and Happy Birthday today to my Daddy. (I know you actually read this---and I thank you for everything, including shaping me into the independent, determined, and stubborn person who does crazy things like uprooting my family on a month's notice and moving to an isolated military base in a Communist country. I really thought it through beforehand and carefully weighed the decision, as you taught me. Thanks for showing me how hard work pays off, and how you must always take pride in your work, even if it's something small like mowing a yard or washing a car. Thanks for not taking it easy on me because I'm a girl. Girls can do anything boys can do--and better. You taught me that. I love you!).