Paris

Our bags are unpacked and stacked in the outside storage room. We've recovered from the fog-flu of jetlag. And Madi has already created a family slideshow of our trip (which is over an hour long!). As it is with many incredible experiences, our France vacation seems almost like a dream.

So even though it was over one month ago that we sat at the feet of the Winged Victory in the Louvre, ordered bread and buttery pastries from the Boulangerie on the corner of the Boulevard Magenta, and saw the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, I will take a few entries to record some of our experience. Perhaps then it will seem a little less dreamlike and serve to keep the memory of the joy alive.

Our First Parisian Evening:

After checking into our hotel, The Hotel Magenta (which to our surprise was much nicer than its name suggests), we decided to walk to Notre Dame. The streets were damp from an afternoon rain shower. As we walked through a strange ghetto-like section of Paris (lots of wig stores catering to various ethnicities), we began to worry that our expectations of Paris were not going to be met.

However, once we crossed to the River Seine, we were met with a breathtaking view of both Notre Dame and in the distance, the Eiffel Tower.  

This is perhaps, my favorite picture taken of the entire trip:

 

Do you see the Eiffel Tower over my husband's shoulder? 

Ahhhh, Paris.  

Surprise at the Louvre:

The next morning we took the Metro to the Louvre. Here's what I remember most vividly: after emerging from the Metro and crossing the street, we walked through a stone tunnel lined with columns and ornate doors. It was dark, cool, and beautiful. I looked up at the towering ceiling (Madi just happened to catch this moment in the picture below). The ceiling was adorned with carvings - a mixture of floral and leaf patterns - and I felt as though I was walking through a church.

Framed by the exit of this tunnel-walkway, I caught my first glimpse of the glass pyramid of the Louvre. 

I was surprised by my emotional reaction. I got a bit choked up as we walked toward the iconic structure. I think I was overwhelmed with gratitude (maybe a little exhaustion too). You see, for as many years as I took French (2 in high school, 3 in college), I never actually expected to visit France. It was too foreign. Too exotic. Too expensive. But here I was. With the people I love most in the world, sharing this incredible experience.

 

The entry line was thankfully short. We bought our tickets and started our lightening-fast tour of the Louvre. We had 6 items on our list: Mona Lisa, Virgin of the Rocks, Virgin and Child with St. Anne, Winged Victory, Venus, and Coronation of Napoleon. I know it was such a short list, but we were doing Paris in 24 hours.Yes, there were crowds. Yes, we got lost a couple times. But it was wonderful, nonetheless.

Elise and Mona...need I say more?

A Jewel:

After finding and viewing the 6 masterpieces, CJ, Tman, and Amelia had had enough of the Louvre. Madi and Elise, however, had seen something on the map they wanted to find. So my good husband took the three youngest outside, and my girls and I went to find Vermeer.

Vermeer was tucked away on the opposite side of the Louvre on the top floor. As with all the Vermeers I've seen, it was small, but worth the extra time to find. I will always remember standing in front of this painting with my daughters talking about the light and the detail of the strings and the pins on the pin cushion. Unlike other parts of the Louvre, this room was nearly vacant. It was quiet, except for our whispers. It was a jewel worth hunting for and a precious moment with my girls.

10 of 10: And Here We Go...

Somewhere on the roaring streets of Jakarta as I was on my way back from Block M having purchased housewarming gifts from Indonesia, it hit me. I'm going to France.

Tonight.

I had a little cry (mostly because I'm suffering from a large amount of anxiety about getting all 7 of us ready for this long trip). But I also cried out of gratitude. Gratitude for once again getting to do something I never imagined I get to do. And suddenly, the zooming motorcycles and plumes of exhaust seemed a bit more bearable.

I took French in High School, then completed four additional semesters of French at BYU. And I always dreamed to getting to use the language outside of the classroom. But that was a looooong time ago. And I don't remember much French.

I just hope there's a disco in Paris, because the only phrase I can remember well is: "Je voudrais aller a la disco tech." And of course, I've practiced how to ask for "pain du chocolate."  Between those two phrases, we are sure to have a grand time.

In preparation for our trip, the kids each chose a topic to study and give a presentation. Elise did the Arch de Triumphe. Madi did the Eiffel Tower. Truman chose Napoleon Bonaparte (though after doing some web searches he was mostly intrigued about some guy named "Napoleon Dynamite"), Amelia presented on Edouard Manet, and Madi also did Claude Monet.

We spent an hour one afternoon painting a la Monet style. It was delightful. I love the variety in colors of each painting and how each child connected their colors with times of day.

Looking forward to seeing the real thing:

9 of 10: Thoughts about teaching High School

I never thought I'd teach high school. It was a bit too scary for me. But here, at Jakarta International School, thousands of miles away from everything familiar, I truly found a home. 

 I found a place where the students exceeded my expectations, and I was challenged and rewarded every day. 

There were moments where I found myself saying, "I can't believe I'm getting paid to teach Romeo & Juliet and have this much fun!"

Here's a picture of my "crazy" (in the best possible sense of the word) class:

 Here they are displaying their true colors:

 Sameer, James, Sean, Richard, Rohaan, Rohan, Derrick, Akash, Tanvi, Ido, Elisa, Sabeeh, Tammy, Nitya, Anna, and Indah

How I will miss them.

During our last few minutes of class, I read my favorite quotes from "Book Thief," specifically the part when Death comes for Hans whose soul is light because he had given so much of himself away during life. We had one final discussion as a class about what it means to "leave pieces of yourself" with people and places throughout your life. 

Each of these kids took a piece of my heart with them this year. And I'm pretty sure most of them left a piece of themselves with me whether in an essay, laughter, an insightful comment, an honest short story, or just a smile.

Teaching high school?

What a joyful ride it has been.

8 of 10: Truman's Half Birthday and a "Catch You Later"

One night in May, Tman and I had the following conversation as I tucked him into bed:

Tman: It's May.
Me: Yes, I know.
Tman: So...it's been almost 5 months since my birthday.
Me: Yes?
Tman: So...when are we going to have my party?
Me (suddenly panicking): Your party? Is this your year to have a birthday party?

(To clarify, we only have friend-birthday parties every other year.)

Tman: Yes. Remember, Amelia had her party last year. (Then, probably sensing my panic, he added,) But it's okay. I don't need a party. I haven't had one since we moved here. Another year won't matter.

(Total. Mother. Guilt.)

Me: Of course we'll have a party!! (Said with mustered confidence as though I had secretly been planning a party all along). We'll do it on your Half Birthday!

And so, three weeks later, we celebrated Tman's 9th Birthday on his Nine and a Half Birthday. Tman, his friends, and our family played laser tag, swam, and ate pizza, cake, & and ice cream. This is the only picture I remembered to snap with my phone as the boys were waiting to go swimming. It's safe to say, it was a memorable day for my sweet boy who deserved every minute of the celebration.
 

Now a goodbye.

One of the difficulties of attending an international school is the amount of turnover each year. It is a transient group of people. Between faculty and students, about 25% leave each year. Tman's best friend, Tane (from New Zealand), is moving back home in a week. Yesterday they spent their last day together swimming and playing soccer.

The happy/sad thing is Tane's mom, Tina, was one of my best friends in the English department this year. Happy because she and I loved to talk about our "little men" together. Sad because that means my friend, Tina, is also moving. So as Tman said goodbye to Tane, I had to say "Catch you later" to Tina (because she refuses to say goodbye!)
 

I kept my composure until we pulled out of their driveway and started for home. I had to pull over in front of a stranger's house and have a good cry. I am going to miss these friends dearly. I let myself feel the sadness of saying goodbye. I embraced it. Because if there's one thing I've learned from a life of moving around, it's this:

If the goodbye is sad, then it means you did something right.

7 of 10: I digress

Dear husband,

Remember when you asked me if I wanted to go to Sydney? I think my first reaction was skepticism: "Are you serious?" But your encouragement "Let's do it!" worked. And a few short weeks later (after a near catastrophe passport dilemma at JIS), we found ourselves walking from Darling Harbor to Circular Quay on a beautiful morning.

Remember when we followed the sounds and smells that led us to the outdoor market at "The Rocks?"
The lines of business workers with their tell-tale sneakers and suits, extended past the shops and snaked into the nearby square. We thought, "It must be good if it's worth that wait." We ordered wraps - mine was a smoked pumpkin, spinach, and chickpeas with feta cheese.

We found a green park bench shaded by a towering cotton tree. Large, palm-sized leaves fell in the breeze. We looked up at the intersecting branches, a tent of green, yellow, and orange, and realized it had been almost two years since we had heard the sound of rustling autumn leaves.

Remember the other couple? Remember when the grey-haired woman asked if she and her husband could join us on the bench? We scooted to the edge to make room for them.

He was much frailer than she was. She guided him as he sat down. She took the hat from his head and placed it securely behind them propped between the bench and stone wall. They had one plate of food to share. He fumbled with the cellophane-wrapping of the plastic utensils until she gently took it from his hands, opened it, and handed him his fork.

They were happy. They smiled. They seemed to be delighted with the same things we were: the canaopy of leaves above us, the good food, the street musicians. And in a strange moment, a touch of melancholy mixed with a surge of hope as I thought, "That is us...that is us in just a few decades." 

There will come a day when we won't be able to walk three to five miles in a morning with ease, energy and speed. Perhaps you will be the physically stronger one. Perhaps I will. But I hope we will love each other enough to share a plate of food. To help each other with the cellophane wrapping. To spend a day together.

For all the beautiful sights we saw that day, dear husband, this one of the elderly couple comes into focus most frequently. Like favorite lines from a good book, I think about them again and again. And I am filled with gratitude that I have someone with whom I can share my life - for these fast glorious times, and for our future slower calmer times.

To borrow your own words of encouragement, "Let's do it!"

 

6 of 10: From School to Pool! Welcome Summer!

A new Abbe Family Tradition: 

Post-School PJ Pool Jump!

We rolled out of bed (with a non-alarm clock wake up!), danced to "School's Out" (yes, High School Musical) and Kenny Chesney's "Summertime," then headed to the pool in our PJs.

Ready, set, go...

 Welcome summer!

Welcome family time, plane rides, car trips, Paris, SLC, fireworks in Provo, soccer camps, family reunions, French Food! American Food! BYU bowling, late night chapter book reading, games of Frisbee on green lawns, snow cones, lemonade, popsicles, early morning runs in clean air, beach days with Grandma and Poppy, Mt. Rainier, pool swimming in St. George...bring it, bring it, bring it!!!  

5 of 10: Food!

A strange fact: I have as many pictures of food from our Sydney trip, as I do of the Sydney Opera House. And most of the pictures highlight salads.

After living in a developing country for two years, one of my favorite parts of being back in a first world country was getting to eat fresh food Worry Free! Worry Free - how marvelous! Meaning, I didn't have to worry if I was going to suffer a horrible bacteria infection that would consign me to the toilet in my hotel room for the duration of my visit. Or worse: I didn't have to worry that I would  be plagued by a parasite who would live in my system for weeks, if not months.

Yes, we eat salads and vegetables here in Jakarta. But the vegetables require a lengthy washing process. And I hardly ever dare eat a raw vegetable salad in a restaurant for the fears listed above. Even in my own home, I regularly experience a moment of "should I or shouldn't I?" before taking a bite of salad.

Oh the joy of the Sydney cuisine! Worry Free and delicious!

We discovered a small bistro Sunday afternoon whose display overflowed with salad choices. We drooled over the selections like kids in a candy store.

 

Our last night we dined in Manly - a beach town on the furthest peninsula of the bay. I had not yet eaten shrimp. And isn't "shrimp on the barbie" the quintessential Australian food? We asked a local at a bike shop for a recommendation. His directions led us to a tiny restaurant tucked away from the tourist crowd. Best shrimp I've had the pleasure of eating. 

 

One last picture. A Ben&Jerry's store sat on a street corner across from Manly Beach. My husband 

indulged in a decadent brownie Sundae with double scoop of mint ice cream. My choice: Cherry Garcia, of course! Yes, we were in Australia. But we couldn't resist a taste of good ol' American ice cream.

  I've always loved good food. But living in Jakarta has made me appreciate good, clean food. 

Wherever I live, I hope I never take Worry Free dining for granted.