Swept clean

From a 23 March, 2009, Ana's birthday, a week ago.

I admit that this is more written for my own benefit. I never want to forget what a bad day this has been. The next time I go out the door without kissing them goodbye, that I get frustrated getting their teeth brushed, that I grumble picking up the toys from the living room for the xth time in the same evening. I never want to forget Trey’s bewildered face, Ryan’s blown kiss, or the tears running so fast down Ana’s face, or those down my own for that matter. Or how Ryan’s lip quivered for a just a second as she sat in the tub last night and wrapped her head around the fact that I wasn’t going to be on the plane with her.

A heart-wrenching day. The worst I have had in years, at the very least. From a few weeks away, it all seemed so manageable, so much the right choice.

This afternoon, just minutes after they took off, I opened the door to the apartment, to an abyss six floors above ground. The place might have looked the same if the three of them were in the kids’ bedroom napping-- some lego blocks in the living room, the toy stroller with Ryan’s latest doll (named Trey, or as Ana and I call him, 3.2) partly covered by the blinds where it came to rest just a couple of hours earlier. The remaining grapes from the bunch they devoured after breakfast, now sitting unwanted at the table. The bedsheets wadded from when they each got up with the same routine of any normal day.

Then there is the closet. No clothes sticking out the top of semi-closed drawers, no dresses on the hangers, no stuffed animal and unmatched sock blocking the sliding mirror door from moving along its tracks. So hollow, except for the clothes unwanted or unable to fit in the suitcases, set aside to be donated. The permanence of the change sinks in. A small stack of bedtime story books sit on a single shelf, the rest barren. The same books that were so valuable to us for different reasons even just last night; for myself and Ana, for curling up with them with limited distractions before they drift off; for Ryan, for the adventures and images, as well as the chance to stay awake just a few more minutes.

No sounds: no Cinderella videos, no giggles, no one running to me —or doing the best they can—because the thing they want the most at that moment is my hug and kiss and attention.

No smells: for better or worse on this one, but I think more of Ana’s cooking, Ryan’s hair, Trey’s skin. Nothing.

Just a sterile apartment swept clean of love. Suddenly I realize how undecorated the walls are, how wonderfully the high chair sat like a throne at the end of the dining room table. I can almost see him sitting there, his waves, his looks. I feel like I just need to go pick him up to set him there to make the chair complete.

I can’t imagine going through this for three months, much less nine, missing both kids’ birthdays, not celebrating my own with them, Christmas. I stick by the decision that in the long run it will be for the better—better job, hopefully better income. In the short term, I am getting this education without the worry that my family is not getting the basics covered, or that Ana is feeling idle, or worse resentful. But I can tell you right now that it sucks. I have been slapped awake. On the good side, this is an opportunity few get to really feel how fortunate they are. And the images from today are more poignant than any for quite sometime. But the sadness is dreadful. As I mentioned, it makes for the worst day I have had in a really long time. I have been lucky not to lose someone really close to me, and there are plenty of circumstances that people are facing at any given moment far worse than this, but unlike most other circumstances, this has the bitterness of being self-induced, that jagged little pill. Albeit a response to outside forces, but right now other alternatives feel like they would have been better. I hope that my mind changes soon, and stays that way.

The big decision

Written 17 February 2009

Photos are gratuitous kids shots.

Wow, things have a way of drawing themselves out, and time slips past quickly. Like the speed at which the ground beneath you flows as you keep your eye on some distant object on the horizon that stands immobile.

That immobile object could be any of a number of new acquaintances, be it the Australian immigration service, the internet service crews here, or the construction across the street from our apartment. A solid six weeks have gone by, but the only change I have yet noticed is that I finally got my visa a couple of weeks ago, although I am still waiting on physician identification numbers and the like to come rolling in.

My hope is that the nine months will pass as quickly as the first few weeks. That I can keep my eyes on something slow, say, my learning, and the days of 2009 will be little more than painted lines on the highway.

Ana is headed back to the States, as most of you know. Trey and Ryan will of course go, as well. Despite living frugally over the past several months to accumulate some savings for the move, Sydney was more expensive than we had estimated. Additional delays in getting documents finalized meant that starting work could not happen for a then-undetermined amount of time. When there began to be a zero sum on the horizon, that no money would be in the account after a very close and estimable amount of time, decisions had to be made—find a way to cut expenses or increase, even obtain, income. Even breaking even when the paychecks started was questionable.

The stress was heavy. From my standpoint, the assurance of provisions for wife and kids was dwindling, and any answers on the horizon required preparations. If Ana was going to work here in Australia, the visa limited her to twenty hours weekly. That not only halves the income she could earn, but it limited her options of potential jobs. Many more are available for those willing and able to work full time. Furthermore, those jobs that accept part-timers are rarely lucrative to the level she could and has earned in the states. A final back-breaking point was that time at work for her would be time the two kids had to be in someone else’s care, and childcare here in Sydney is exorbitant, exacerbated by the recent shutdown of the largest childcare chain in Australia due to financial mismanagement. Decreased supply with stable demand means both high costs and increased length to wait lists. The childcare facility on the hospital grounds has a list now two years long.

At the point I could not ensure security, I came home, dropped my bag, and told Ana that the only answer might be for her to try to get her position back in Louisville. The look on her face and the excitement in her voice at the mere prospect was a strong argument in favor of that decision. She got right on it, and her phone call back to Cogent was met with equal excitement. It took a while to confirm her return with the executive office, but it was done, and her first day back will be the first of April.

Ryan will be back in school, and Trey will stay home with Lola, who thankfully is going to stay with them. Things for them will return to something similar to what it was less than a year ago. Sans Dad.

It is a tough but worthwhile decision. The security is a great lift of my shoulders. Ana will clearly be happier, and I can see that nine months of not working has been a task. I hope that it won’t matter that much to the kids in the long run, and that the difference made in the job I have, the place we live in the future, the opportunities provided them will outweigh the change to family structure they have the next couple of weeks.

As for myself, there are days when I look at the good differences the upcoming months hold—the time I can dedicated to reading and learning, more opportunities to exercise, ease of travel to go see Australia, maybe even other countries while here. It turns out Trey and Ryan aren’t as impressed with the harbor bridge as they are with jumping castles and dessert.

There are other days where the obvious losses seem greater. But the decisions are made, and we will have to see how it goes. Fortunately, all of it is transient.

The irony is that an increase in understanding of the system has led to less taxation. They give large rebates to those who work in the hospitals, splitting the tax deduction with the business, so my taxes will be half what it would be with other jobs here. They also give returns through a program that compensates you for coming to the big city with much higher standard of living as a result of a given job. And let me tell you, the cost of living here is higher than Louisville, Kentucky! But the rebates have made it more affordable. The job has started, so there is the assurance of income. Now making ends meet is doable. Estimates look like Ana’s end is doable with her income. It is nice to have that stress off, but the fact that going into debt didn’t come to fruition somehow makes the circumstances seem less real. But it all has worked out in the end, for now. So on the bad days, I'll just keep my eye on the horizon and let the painted stripes fly past. On the good days, I'll look a little closer and post the photos that I take.

Home found

Written 10 January 2009

Day five in Sydney, the first Saturday. A chance to kick back? Hardly. We have gotten to celebrate reaching a couple of goals, on time I might add. Yesterday we got our apartment. Today I am resting more assured that we will have all the necessities when we move in on Monday. There is still a good deal to do tomorrow, however.


Photo 1: balcony view south, towards downtown. Some buildings just east of downtown are in the distance.

Each tour of the neighborhoods had made us decrease our radius from the hospital considered suitable for living. Before my trip to Sydney at the end of November Ana had made an excellent list of houses and a couple of apartments within a maximum of an anticipated ten minute drive. In retrospect, that seems like a drive from a county away. First, ten minutes estimated on a Google map ain’t ten minutes big-city style. My guess is that the main thoroughfare past the hospital was not expected to handle the daily traffic it takes these days. While this area is nothing like Manhattan, it is far more congested than, say, North Dallas. Maybe the best comparison would be Austin. The roads here are fairly narrow and the undulations of the terrain lead to winding roads. When people are packed together, they have little room for others of different pace or knowledge of the area. You better have a plan when you hit the roads, keep your mind on it, and execute.


Photo 2: the view west, directly across the street. The nearest building the Royal North Shore Hospitals dialysis center. Middleground: the new research center and medical school library. Brown building in distance: the inpatient hospital, i.e., workplace. Commute time: four minutes, with traffic.

Another factor in shrinking the search was expense. Everything costs a good deal here. And the more we have hassled with making purchases to get settled in, the more we think about having to sell or give it away in just a few months. The beauty of it is that it keeps the contrast between need and want fairly clear. We aren’t going to rough it, but I also don’t think we will be hanging any Rembrandts on the walls. Or perhaps anything more than family photos, for that matter.

Photo 3: balcony view north. High-rises in distance is Chatswood, the upscale district of the city, proported best schools, etc. In between, the offices of two of the city's television stations, the main highway northward.

Maybe we will decorate by fate, searching only for huge bargains, or be okay with putting up nothing whatsoever. Point being that we finally decided on a place right across the street from the hospital complex. There are several apartment towers that oppose the huge grounds of the hospital. Our place will be lined up just a few hundred yards from the inpatient and surgical building, the hospital proper. Call should be pretty good. Additionally, the train station is even closer, due south about 200 meters. And the station is not just a platform and a ticket window. The tracks mainly travel above ground throughout the city, but it is very much a Metro layout and system. As a result, the “station” is placed amongst high-rise buildings and covered with a layer of commerce. An open-air plaza is right over the tracks, and the perimeter is lined with restaurants of quite a range. Of course, Mickey D’s is there, but there are a couple other fast food places indicative of the ethnic diversity of the city, a fresh fruit market, a very good restaurant with low lighting in the evenings, good wine it seems, and great coffee also served at a walk up counter. There is a pharmacy, a newsstand, and a grocery store. With everything so close and convenient, it is worth a little more to be in this area.


Photo 4: the view from the south balcony looking westward. Train tracks below and out of view (the train is electric, nearly silent). About 3 miles away: Tasman Sea.

Searches for a new home, new technology

Written 8 January 2009

Okay, I was just wrapping up the last blog, discussing some of it with Ana, when we realized that I should make an entry for today. So while I will post this a couple of days after the previous, realize that it took place on our second full day in Australia, amidst apartment hunting in the big city. Now it is the same big city that I was saying that I wouldn’t enjoy as much, but I also said that I was keeping an open mind and meant that I would unabashedly embrace the good things.

Our great revelation was compounded by two factors. First, while many blessings have befallen Aotearoa, the internet has hardly recognized the place. In fact, some study that a coworker quoted me listed New Zealand as having the poorest internet structure of any developed nation. Any. How did they let Ireland or Portugal slip past them? Even the way you get internet there is different. It is not just a matter of downloading or uploading speed. Only the big companies, such as the hospital where I worked, had unlimited access and high speed. And by high speed, I mean relative to dial up. You will see what I mean in a minute. The rest of us outside of the corporate world purchase quantities of download per month. For example, we bought a middle-of-the-road program allowing three gigabytes of download at high speed for NZ$40 per month. More downloads would cost more, and the same download quantity at higher speed would cost more. A lot more.

And for clarification, 3 Gb is enough to handle all our emails, web brousing, facebooking, and iTunes downloads, almost. We still ran over a little a couple of months. But we couldn’t venture into videos much and had to avoid sites that kept spooling information to you, updating their information every few seconds. We also couldn’t pull up Youtube videos of Sesame Street and the like for Ryan.

The second factor in this compounding process that I alluded to is that nothing progresses like technology. Six months in New Zealand has let other lands carry on at breakneck speed.

Zoom in to the four of us strolling (actually three of us strolling and one in a tike-toting backpack) along the sidewalk in a high-rise section of North Sydney after seeing the last of the open viewings of apartments that we had listed for the day. We stopped into a computer store to get some opinions on internet connections, companies, the quality available, etc. The very pleasant Chinese fellow, the presumed owner, was happy to talk to us about it and gave us a brochure from one of the many providers in the area, one with which he was apparently associated, since a blank on the brochures application page for the provider representative had already been filled in with his name. The plan provided 50 Gb of warp-speed downloading of 20 Mbps for AU$50 (about US$30). “So what plan did you have in New Zealand?” he asked. We responded that we got 3 Gb of high speed download for NZ$40. “Thirty gigabytes?” he questioned, as though his Mandarin ears had misinterpreted my American accent. The look he gave when he counted the fingers I held up to correct him told us what we needed to know. Things were about to get a whole lot better.

Bill Gates. NOT a Kiwi.

Sydney Wildlife World

One of the first places that we made weekend excursions to was the Sydney Wildlife World. Despite how it is normally in the states, this place is located on the harbor right near downtown. It is wonderful to have such a menagerie for the kids to see just a short walk from the train station. Additionally, it was an air-conditioned facility, making it a great refuge during the hottest days of summer. We bought annual passes for entrance to both the wildlife park and the aquarium, wonderfully located next door to each other. The next posting will be about the aquarium.

The great assortment of wildlife, so different from North America, makes for some great photos. I only put five here, but I should add more in another posting. I have also put them on an album on my Facebook page.

Photo 1: Would any Ausie wildlife park be complete without the koala. One of the symbols of Australia, the mascot for the national airline.

They are less slothlike than I thought, but not by a whole lot. They apparently conserve energy, since they reap their energy from eucalyptus only. This is one of their survival skills, living off a food source that no other animals really compete for.

Look closely at this koala's tummy.

Photo 2: This mother is toting her little one around. Both spend a lot of time napping.

Photo 3: Ana meets with one of them. Actually all four of us were allowed to mill around with four koalas in a small area. Most napped. One was designated as the petable one for the day. Unfortunately, today's koala was the grumpiest of them, according to one of the guides. Note his social interaction in the photo.

Photo 4: Maybe even more Australian than the koala is the kangaroo. They had one adult and a few adolescents in a large enclosure, no girls so that there was no competitive behavior. Here the oldest is the boldest, feeding close to the path for the people.

They are scrawnier than I expected.

Photo 5: Equally exclusive to Australia, but less known, is the cassowary, touted as the world's most dangerous bird, according to the Guiness Book of World Records. Note the pleasant look on this fella's face. In the same family as the ostrich and emu, he is a little smaller but has sharp talons and a powerful kick, admittedly in defense of self or nests.

And that horn! So attractive.

There are three different breeds, differentiated by the pattern of the red waddle.

Sydney Aquarium

The Sydney Aquarium has some of the same benefits of the Wildlife World-- location, convenience, air conditioning-- so it was a good place to hole up when we first moved here. As expected Ryan got a huge kick out of it, though I wasn't far down the excitement scale.

The loggerhead sea turtle

This boy was in the big tank with numerous fish, sharks, manta rays, and others. But he holds his own. Big old boy.









This smaller tank was no doubt organized to elicit screeches from every child from ages two to eight. Clownfish and friends: "NEEEMO!"















When you run into Ryan, and she goes on about dugongs, this is what she is talking about. The southern world's relative to the manatee. I think he smiled for this photo.
















The cuttlefish. I wrote a middle school paper on mollusks (very enthralling read, I am sure) and became a big fan of the octopus, and to a lesser extent, the squid. I intentionally skipped over their other relative, the cuttlefish, since there wasn't much in the encyclopedia about them. Since then I have learned some incredible stuff about them. The abilities of the smaller ones to dupe the larger ones is, well, inspiring. It throws off the survival of the physically fittest, but maybe they are advancing in other ways faster.

Jellyfish. Just a photo that came out nicely. I think the middle one of these posed, as well.

No, these are not the poisonous fellas found up near the Great Barrier Reef.

The market and Palmie

One more blog posting that from a couple of weeks ago. We rented a car for the weekend, and while we could have used it to venture much farther out, we decided just to make closer, more convenient trips, since there was plenty still to see more proximally. So Saturday included a day trip to Palm Beach. Like other Palm Beaches, this is also known for the nicer homes. It is a weekend getaway for the more affluent but includes a very nice publicly accessible beach. One of the current popular television shows is base here, at least in storyline.

The first photo is just snapped climbing out of the car. Not much doctoring required here. Just a lovely sunny beach away from town. Objects may be closer than they appear. There were more people than this photo lets on. What it also doesn't show is the strength of riptide. The incoming waves were pretty tough, but the undertow was like standing in an intermittent, fast-flowing, river.

The second photo is of the same coast line, a little further south as we took side roads and turnouts on the way back to the city. One of the beauties of Australian culture is utilitarianism. Take Ana's hat, for example. During the week, an ordinary flower pot holder.


This third photo is of the weekend market at the Rocks, a district just north of downtown. In fact, it is just a very short walk from one to the other, the difference being that the buildings become shorter, a good bit older, and a little more historically significant as you near the harbour (spelling as when in Rome). By the time you are at the north end of the market, as we were here in this photo, you are in the shadow of the Harbour Bridge. All the goodies that you would hope

to find in a market are here. Nothing that you need, a lot that you might want.


Finally we decided on something that we might want, a caricature of the kids. More for marking history than historically accurate, the drawing was whipped out in just a few minutes as one of the last efforts of the day. Ana likes it, and I hope others do as well. It includes a squiggle representing the Sydney Opera House, and a bridge in the background-- both great landmarks just a stones throw from this point. But Ryan looks to be about fourteen in the photo, and Trey, who just is on the verge of mastering running, holds a skateboard. But it was fun to get it, and I was surprised how well both of them held still for the artist.