Danke

 

Time is such a weird phenomenon. Halfway into our four weeks in Lisbon, Micah and I were already sad our time was coming to an end. Lisbon was all we had hoped for in a city for the kids and ourselves. The older I get, the more I think 30 or 40 years is nothing, so two weeks begins to feel like it has already passed because before you know it, it is gone.

As Micah already wrote about, we left Lisbon for Munich via Paris. I had a lot of mixed feelings about Germany. For a long time I had no interest in visiting because, as a Jew, I thought I would struggle with letting the history be part of the fabric but not the whole story.

The first day was a day full of questions going on in my head. Was that a building where Jews lived and were forced out? Did they walk this square or own shops near the Glockenspiel? Did they ever come back after the war and feel comfortable?

The worst seemed to be when we went to a biergarten to watch the World Cup and the sportscaster was yelling in German. I realized in most of America, the only German we hear spoken has been yelled in a WWII documentary or movie. The irony is, Jamie is in a German Immersion program at his elementary school. We love it and he loves it, as any language learned is a bonus, but we also have Jewish friends who felt uncomfortable sending their kids through the program and I totally sympathize with that.

That being said, I had the most amazing time in Munich – once I accepted why I felt conflicted and allowed it the space it deserved while recognizing that the present Germany has a lot to offer. We had four full days in the city and we really didn’t waste a minute, because if there was a minute to spare we were drinking in a biergarten of course!

The first day we met up at the Viktualienmarkt with new friends from the World Schoolers group who had two boys Jamie and Emmett’s age. The open market in Munich is a mix of a typical produce market and a biergarten. It ended up being a daily ritual to go pick out fruit and get a beer. We then moved on to a playground and eventually to the Augustiner Keller Biergarten.

This picture was actually taken at the biergarten at Weinerplatz. But we smiled like this at all biergartens we went to.

This place is the absolute best – not only because it was playing the World Cup but it also had an awesome playground for the kids. Micah is obsessed with why we don’t have biergartens in America*. It quickly became part of our daily routine, to meet up with our new friends and go there.

*Hey, quick Micah editorial here: Seriously, how are biergartens not widely available in the States? It SUCKS being a parent and not having easy places to go to drink socially with friends without having to get a babysitter. A few small places have started to pop up in Atlanta, but nothing on the scale of a place like Augustiner Keller. The kids played at their playground for hours, and we were completely free to drink and engage in adult conversation. It was heaven, and seems like it’d be a financial windfall. I demand answers!

The next morning I went solo to visit Dachau, the first concentration camp established by the Nazis, about 20 minutes outside of Munich. I won’t bore you with the details – if you’ve read enough about WWII the camp is exactly what you can conjure in your mind.

I found being there to be more of a philosophical reckoning. For most of my friends, our grandparents were of this generation. My grandmother fled Poland around WWI and Micah’s grandfathers both served the US in WWII. It’s only 70+ years ago that evil spread and became so commonplace across Europe, with a mixture of fear and propaganda keeping the general population in line.

We say “never again,” but genocide still happens. Dictators still rule. People are still fleeing for a better life. Populaces still vote based on fear or the hope for a better financial future, which often leads to enigmatic leadership.

With that said, a large majority of people are good people. If we will take anything away from this trip, it is how amazing strangers have been to us and our kids. We have met the nicest old people, who have given our kids large chocolate bars for no reason. We have made friends with strangers on trains, families at parks and coffee shop owners. It can be hard to reconcile the seemingly cyclical nature of evil in history with the innate good nature of people. Visiting Dachau was hard, but it felt important to see, reflect and pay respect to all the lives lost.

Outside of that, the last two days in Germany played out much like our first – market, park, biergarten. We couldn’t have been happier. Micah will tell you that ironically, given our history, Germany is the one country that seems to have its stuff together, while the US seems to be in a bit of a free fall. If we were to move abroad, it’d be near the top of his list.

As we left, I realized that paying homage to what was and being grateful for what is makes life not only easier but more enjoyable. It’s something I will try to take with me as we continue our travels and, eventually, come home.

FOMO

In general, I do not have FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). I may have had a slight case of it in college, and maybe into my early twenties, but since the Real Housewives series came onto the scene I’ve matured, I could stay home and be happy most of the time. Luckily I have Micah, though his raging FOMO has mellowed over the years into “this would be really fun, let’s go.”

Sometimes I’m game, others I’m a grudging participant. Micah plans most of our vacations, and usually there are one or two things that in theory sound awesome, like biking 60 kilometers around the Sea of Galilee or staying in a cheap hotel that boasts a “private bathroom”, but end up much less enticing than expected. They may turn into laughs after the fact, but are not so fun when they are happening. Stories for another day.

As noted in my last post, the entire month of June there are festivals around Lisbon for the celebration of Santa Antonio, for which one of the biggest celebrations is on June 12th in the neighborhood of Alfama. We had been warned that this particular celebration can get very crowded, and as it gets later, a little wild. June 13th is a national holiday so everyone can party to their heart’s content. Not this Hart.

I had no interest in this particular celebration due to what people had told us. If I were 18 and sans kids this might sound like good fun. Micah really wanted to go to the celebration on the early side, see the parade and then go home. It’s hard to say no when I’m sure I’m the only ninny in the group and the boys would have a blast. We set out at 8pm and the streets going into the neighborhood were pretty quiet. We were able to get dinner at a little stand and then started to walk more into the neighborhood. As time wore on, the streets started to narrow and became more packed.

Sardines are a huge part of this festival. A Portuguese beer company was giving out sardine hats – imagine a Santa Clause hat but in a sardine shape, with the tail at the top. People were swarming in these, as well as wigs of what I’m assuming is the hairline of the fishmonger who slings the sardines (Micah says it’s a monk’s hairline. I’m sure he’s right, but a fishmonger is just funnier to me). The boys were having a blast, and so was I for a bit. As we tried to start making our way to the parade, every street we turned on was packed with more sardines and weird fishmongers. Drunk sardines and fishmongers everywhere. It was like Mardi Gras in a fish tank.

Micah would have kept pushing on to make the parade, which I assumed was even more packed. I was starting to feel trapped, and I didn’t care what it took to get out of the crowd. It seemed like everywhere we turned dead ended into another crowded street. I don’t hyperventilate but I get a little wild eyed. I’m like a caged animal you slowly want to back away from.

I was happy for Micah to take the boys and I’d go home, but the crowd was too intense for him to go solo. We made our way slowly out of the winding streets before I had a nuclear meltdown. I feel badly that we didn’t make the parade; I’m sure that everyone would have enjoyed it but the upside is that I didn’t make the world news as the lady who went ape on a fishmongering monk.

Micah has also been very jazzed up about the World Cup, which Portugal is in and America is not. Their first game was last night against Spain, and Lisbon shut down the main square by the water and set up large screens to project the game. Micah has been dreaming of this moment since we started planning our trip, watching the World Cup in a country that is playing and is soccer crazy. After our debacle with the festival, I wan’t so sure I wanted any part of an unorganized crowd.

Trying to plan for the best outcome, I went to yoga while the boys made their way to the square, with the intention that I would meet them after my class. The crowds were so loud that when Portugal scored a goal, we paused class to celebrate.

The boys ended up going to dinner because it was too hard to see the screen on the square. I joined them and watched the game go from 2-1 to 2-3 Spain in the lead. With 20 minutes left in the game we decided to give the square another try. The boys were waving Portugal flags, and we could see enough of the game to get the gist of what was going on.

With 6 minutes left in the game and the score still 2-3, Ronaldo, Portugal’s best player (and arguably the best in the world) earned a free kick. The entire crowd held their collective breath and Ronaldo took his shot. He made an amazing goal to tie the score. The crowd went wild, myself included. I can’t describe it more than an explosion of the happiness of 5,000 people. Micah and I held both boys up and jumped up and down with the crowd. It was a rush and so much fun to be part of that moment.

I did my best to ignore my anxiety over how the crowd would disperse once the game was over. I like to leave concerts two songs before the end which is so dumb because that is when the best songs are played. Luckily, the crowd was fairly tame for how many people were there and we walked home with no issues.

My mind hasn’t changed on FOMO. I still don’t dwell on missing events that may or may not have been fun. I push myself to go to things that the kids or Micah will enjoy but I’m admittedly not the best participant all the time. When I was in college, I’d sometimes go home from a party way before all of my friends. It was easy when all I had to worry about was myself. When my family has to leave the fun because I have had my fill, it makes it harder and unfair all around.

I’m hoping this trip will help find a better balance between being okay with missing out on things that really don’t interest me and pushing through some of the anxiety to enjoy events that will be memorable. It’s a hard line to balance because if you don’t know what you have missed, do you miss it?

Quiet Please

I’m a certified introvert. I don’t like loud noises, crowds and ruckus. This is quite hard when living with three loud people, and when I say loud all three sound like they have an amplifier attached to their vocal cords. This is an everyday battle for me but at home I do have options. I get 25 minutes of quiet in the car each way to work (except when I scream at the bubba next to me on the road), 75 minutes of yoga most days, and a lovely relaxing night most evenings. I have it all worked out that 90% of the time I can find balance.

It has been relatively hard this first week to find that equilibrium. I have really tried to find the positive in the chaos. Emmett is my literal shadow. He wakes himself up, gets dressed and comes in our room stating he is ready to go with me to get coffee. I love this time with him and I know it will be something he remembers if nothing else from this trip. The people at the coffee shop now know to wait to for him to say “Obrigado” (thank you in Portuguese). He has also taken to walking with me when I choose to walk vs taking the bus (whereas Jamie will take the easy way out with Micah). I’ve learned quite a lot from his constant chatter about how to play the game Four Corners.

With Jamie, he and I have been playing “Punch Buggy” as we explore the city together, except our version is played when you see a taxi cab or a building with colorful tiles. As you can imagine, it’s jarring when I’m quietly walking along and I get a whack alongside someone screaming “PUNCH BUGGY”. It always makes me laugh, especially when I play back and he whines that I’ve smacked him too hard (If I had a feather, I couldn’t have touched him any lighter).

The perfect spot for a nap.

We’ve also had some interesting moments this week being strangers in a strange land. Micah had a whose on first Uber driver. The driver arrived to pick us up, but was on the other side of a divided highway. Micah ran across to tell him that where we were, and then chaos ensued.

Mistake one was that Micah got in the car to help guide him. Micah got a nice hour ride around the city three times, while the boys and I sat out in the rain at a bus stop waiting. Each time I called, Micah ensured me that this time the driver understood him and he was on his way back. What should have have taken 10 minutes turned into 60.

Yesterday while at the park, I was putting sanitizer on the hands of the boys before we ate lunch. A old lady draped in a black cloak walked up to me with her hands out. I assumed she too wanted hand sanitizer. She patiently waited while I put some in her hand, then gave me a quizzical look and rubbed her hands together. She started speaking to me in Portuguese pointing at my bag. I took the sanitizer back out and tried to give her more assuming she was telling me her hands were extremely dirty. She emphatically shook her head and started to tip her head back and gulp. Micah had to politely tell me she was begging for money to get something to eat. Ah, right.

Suffice to say, I was really needing some alone time to recharge. Yesterday I took the bus into the city for my first yoga class since we’ve been abroad. I didn’t realize how much I missed it and needed that time to myself. I have an amazing yoga community in Atlanta, with teachers who inspire me, and it can be hard to match that when traveling. It was nice to find a little of that, if not exactly the same, in Lisbon. The class was just what I needed. By the time I met up with the boys at a neighborhood party for San Antonio (the patron saint of Lisbon), I was ready to enjoy the festivities.

Brene Brown says you don’t need to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness. Happiness is right in front of you if you’re paying attention and practicing gratitude. Yoga helps me clear my mind and the chaos that goes on inside. If I can’t clear the traffic jam, I can’t even see the simple things that bring joy, like my four-year old’s excitement to have his few minutes with me as we walk for coffee. And for finding that clarity, at least for a little while, I say Obrigado.

What Kind of Day is Today?

Our best statue impression

If you asked me before we left for our sabbatical what I thought the trip was going to be like, I don’t know if I could have told you what I expected. I thought our kids were on a fairly good behavior streak at home and, in general, fun to be around. I didn’t take into consideration the toll a lack of schedules, adapting to being around each other 24/7 and exhaustion would take. Thus far in our four days in Lisbon, every day has been a crapshoot.

We’ve had amazing times exploring with new friends, which Micah touched on in his last post, and meltdowns where complete strangers cried back at Emmett. Imagine an adult lady stranger doing a dramatic cry back at your child – this has happened multiple times and has somehow made me feel better that I, too, do this to him when he’s over-dramatizing a slight by his brother. That’s validation, right?

Today was a good day. I woke up and walked to get coffee. There’s something about a city in the morning, quiet but humming, breezy but not cold and a little sleepy. I was born to live in a walkable city. There is nothing I love more than to walk alone, take in the buildings and people and have a little time to think. The coffee shop isn’t far but it allows me a little time to myself in the morning.  I’m sorry Starbucks but I have met my coffee shop soul mate. They have filtered coffee (which is hard to find abroad) and every cup has a special message just for me…

The boys woke up ready to explore and we had a fun day planned for them. The last time Micah and I were in Lisbon, we did a food tour with an amazing guide, Célia. We decided to engage her in a family-friendly food tour so we could learn more about our neighborhood, including local markets and restaurants. The boys, Jamie especially, were game to try new things – which is all you can ask of a six and four year-old. Our first stop was a coffee roaster, and to my surprise both boys not only loved the beans but loved the coffee sans any accoutrements. I’m sure I ruined gifted them with this love whilst pregnant.

Celia was great with the boys, thinking ahead of what would keep them occupied and gave them a mini Rubix cube to play with and cherries to eat. It was love at first bite/twist. We made our way to the waterfront to eat at a restaurant and watch our fish be freshly grilled. Both boys tried the fish (cuttlefish and scabbard), but true to their mama’s weird eating habits they mostly chowed down on broccoli and raw onions.

As a treat for trying the fish, we indulged the boys in a round of gelato. My phone rang on the way to our next stop and “Ashford Park” flashed on the screen. Ashford Park is Jamie’s elementary school and where Emmett is on the waitlist for Pre-K. I quickly answered to good news – EMMETT IS IN! The boys all of a sudden became best of friends, whooping and hugging, and Jamie began his big-brother duties in telling Emmett all he can expect next year. This is a relief – and about a $10K bonus for next year. The rest of the tour was just as amazing, as we tried goose barnacles (which are really good and a delicacy in Portugal, and apparently super-dangerous to gather), local wines and delicious pastries. I must have out-eaten my family because they were all ready for dinner a few hours later while I was still in a food coma.

Ashford Park FTW!

As I look back on the past few days, there is nothing that can describe the moments of pure joy we have had watching the boys discover new things and watching the window to their world widen. I too am realizing that when left to my own devices, I am more capable than I have been inclined to give myself credit for. I’ve had no fear venturing out on my own, and I’ve done most of the grocery shopping either alone or with Emmett. I haven’t hesitated to speak to the locals, who are friendly and speak English, which makes it a lot less daunting.

We are loving our neighborhood, which is a block from a trendy area of restaurants and shops. There is a lot to do here. On Saturday night, after dinner, we stopped on our way home and listened to a live band that was playing outside. Then on Sunday, the street turned into a farmers market full of produce, handmade jewelry and vintage sunglasses. Meanwhile all around us are beautiful, purple jacaranda trees that line streets filled with 19th-century row houses with hand-painted tiles.

I think we’re in love.

Open Harts…A Beginning

I have a confession to make… it took me years to like the Indigo Girls. I know this could be considered blasphemy in many of my girl circles (no pun intended for my circle sisters), but even through my teenage angst years something about the melody in the music made it hard for me to listen to them on repeat. I was more Belinda Carlisle and less Ani Defranco. Eventually, as things that get repeated over and over do, the Indigo Girls grew on me.

Recently, I was listening to Closer to Fine and I realized a few things. We all go through this search to find who we are, and there are a million ways to explore that. Some of us ignore the call of being different, some of us seek it and others fall off the path at the curve. This year I’ve been somewhere between seeking a different path and falling off the curve. It’s a fine line.

A year ago I left my reliable job of a decade to try to re-sort my priorities. I had loved my work, but I felt like I was sucking at being a mom and wife.  I took a job with less hours, got certified to teach yoga, and found my way back to a little sanity. My job is only eight hours less a week but it is amazing what great coworkers in a relaxed environment can do for your psyche. Oh and a little thing called Fridays off. That too.

In my year of resetting, I’ve pushed my boundaries in a lot of areas.  I’ve always had a lot of anxiety – it is my natural wavelength. For a long time I believed anxiety is what drove me and without it, I’d just be lazy.  I had a third-grade teacher, Mr. Harrison, who used to sing to our class “Lazy Bones” when he didn’t like the work we did.  He would also once in a while throw a chair in anger. This is my anxiety, always warning me about the dangers of being lazy, whilst throwing a punch every once in a while to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Staying on the straight and narrow was never a question until I met my husband Micah. He is a quintessential dreamer – not in the head in the clouds way,  but in the “Why do we have to conform?” way, the “I don’t want to live a certain way just because that’s what you are supposed to do” way. It certainly sounds good in theory. Who doesn’t want to live a carefree life, tilling the earth, backpacking through the wilderness… insert total stereotype of a privileged lady exploring the ends of the earth (maybe minus the high heels).

A few years ago Micah wanted to travel the world for two years…WITH KIDS.  I smiled, sweated on the inside, then did a jig when I got a new position at work that would be silly to turn down. As the years passed, that dream turned into a sabbatical for our ten-year anniversary. Mind you neither of us are tenured professors, so the idea of a sabbatical seemed ludicrous to me. It’s not that I didn’t want to travel the world, who wouldn’t, but how would we ever make that work without us both leaving our jobs permanently? I obviously forgot who I married. Micah has a knack for crazy ideas working out in his favor. As we were both preparing to leave our jobs to take the summer off to travel, Micah got a new job offer. He was effectively able to get the time off and have a job to come back to. This made it much more palatable for me; even if my future after the trip is a big question mark. Small details.

So, on to the true purpose of this blog! I am hoping to take you with us inside our family’s travels around Europe this summer and all the shenanigans that ensue. There will be some soul searching (hopefully not because I’ve lost it on a child in public), a lot of boundary pushing and I’m sure a nice dose of anxiety-calming pranyama (breath control). Being that it took me weeks to write this first blog post, I’m hoping to be similar to your favorite author who you wait for their next novel with baited breath vs. the television series you used to like but has overstayed its welcome (ahem…Silicon Valley). Our first stop is Lisbon for a month. I’m hoping those Portuguese lessons Micah’s been taking are helpful because I’m ready to play the mute American by his side. Stay tuned.