Culture Shock

Legitimately in Paradise!

Ugh.  How is it that I passionately recommit to writing more often, even vowing to post three times weekly in November, yet I haven't blogged in nearly two months?  Life keeps getting in the way.  My poor kid has had three ear infections in the past three months (he ended up in the ER last week; but he's all right now) and I was quite preoccupied with my first-ever passport-required vacation.

To Jamaica.

Which is what I'm sharing with you today.

Way back in February of this year, my husband asked if I'd mind him spending Valentine's Day with my dad at a car show.  I DID mind, a bit, but since every attempt we've ever made to "be romantic and go out to dinner" on V-Day has not gone well, I told him to go.  They had a good time, and a few weeks later, Ross got a phone call that he'd won a trip to Jamaica via a contest sponsored by a local radio station.

Postcard-perfect.

Yeah, right.  Most of us have heard that too-good-to-be-true line, only to learn that you've got to invest in a time share or travel club.  No thank you.  Well, it turns out the prize was legit, and I needed to get my passport.  We had to use our tickets and reservations before a certain time, so we elected to go just before my birthday in November.  My parents would watch our son for the five days we were gone, and we'd return home on Veterans' Day, thus enabling my husband to use just 2 vacation days.  We're so clever.

I spent several months envisioning myself in a chaise lounge chair at the pool or on the beach, glistening with sweat and sunscreen, quietly baking myself to a warm golden brown.  I made several attempts to lose enough weight to match the vision I'd had of myself, to no avail.  I'm still at my "default" weight - the weight my body seems to like best regardless of how much or how little I eat or exercise (unless I am seriously counting calories).  I lamented to my husband that, even though I was determined to wear a two-piece suit, I would not be happy in it.

I needn't have worried.  At the family-friendly resort, there was every body type represented: boyishly skinny, morbidly obese, pregnant, curvy, scarred, pale, bronze - and every single person what there to enjoy himself or herself.  I was almost shocked.  Where I had spent my entire life avoiding situations that would require anything other than at least a tank top and skirt, suddenly I was free to accept my body and have fun using it.  I couldn't believe how freeing it was to realize that - honestly - people were very likely NOT looking at my body to find fault with it.  (Truth is, that's probably the case a lot more often than we think.  Not EVERYONE is  ALWAYS looking at our bodies to try to rip them apart or judge us, despite what we might feel.)  I wasn't trying to be sexy or trashy; I just wanted to be brave.  For me, wearing a 2-piece suit was not about making a statement about modesty (suuuuuuch a hot topic is Christian circles these days...), or about being pro-plus size, or really anything other than letting go of shame.  Even at my "skinniest", I was able to find plenty of faults with my appearance.  Should I suddenly drop 45 pounds overnight, I am fairly certain there will be freckles, lines, split ends, cracked nails, an a myriad of other things for me to condemn.  So what good does it do to hate myself for my weight or my figure?  Should I hide because I haven't been able to drop the baby weight?  Should I spend my days in the shade because I have a pooch where I carried my son?  Because my arms aren't toned?  Because my thighs touch?  Because I prefer cookie butter to celery?

(Okay, eating healthy is a whole 'nother story - but my point here is that I have to accept my body and all its flaws, love it for what it can do and had done, and move forward to take care of it - whatever that means to me.)

At any rate, I didn't just wear a two-piece and feel confident.  I also swam in the ocean.  Big deal, you might say - your family does a beach vacation every year.  Well, for me it IS a big deal.  I don't know how to swim, and I've always been afraid of the water.  I avoid public pools and almost drowned in high school gym class, assuming that I could just hop right into the deep end and be fine.  Yet, in the dazzlingly blue water of the Caribbean sea, with the security of my husband nearby, I slowly plodded along with a graceless doggy paddle.  But I was swimming.  I wasn't touching the seabed.  Strands of seaweed wrapped around my arms and legs, and saltwater lapped at my lips.  The brilliant midday sun shone on the gentle waves, and I yelled out, "I'm a mermaid!"

Saltwater tastes awful!

So, that was pretty far from the truth, I guess, but I had a revelation that day.  A few, actually.  First: I can totally see why people are obsessed with beach vacations.  The sun, sand, and sea combine for a trinity of peaceful beauty that you really can't find anywhere else.  The ocean can be both calming and chaotic, and that's a huge part of its appeal.  So much raw, unfeeling beauty that can soothe you or steal you away.  The second revelation I had was that it's okay to face your fears little by little.  I don't know about you, but whenever I hear the phrase "face your fears", I automatically imagine St. George and the dragon.  Or Prince Philip and Maleficent.  You know, the sword and shield, the valiant hero, the fire-breathing lizard.  The all-or-nothing, now-or-never final showdown.  But that's simply not how overcoming fear always works.  I had to first decide to take steps toward the ocean.  Then I had to take them.  Then I had to trust my husband that I would be safe.  Then I had to believe that.  Then, I had to trust myself.

And I'm so glad I did.  

Those brilliant and life-changing realizations aside, the trip itself was pretty wonderful.  Although I broke down emotionally our first day there (I hate flying, missed my baby, and hadn't eaten or rested enough), things picked up quickly, and we enjoyed amazing food, beautiful weather - even the afternoon and evening rain was beautiful, met a fun couple from Canada, avoided serious sunburn, and had some much-needed romantic time away from our beloved baby.

Sunset on the water.

Something I struggled with, however - and my former college roomie pals can attest to this - was the vastly different culture I experienced upon first arriving in Jamaica.  Chaos, noise, disorder - maybe you imagined things to be much more mellow as Jamaica is the homeplace of reggae, Bob Marley, and the glorification of marijuana.  Maybe that's the case for day-to-day living here, for some of the people, and once we arrived at the resort, that spirit of relaxation did seem to take over.  But the hustling at the airport, the terrifying two-lane roads (drivers use the left side and passing in no-passing zones is expected) - these things really jarred me.  I'm an introvert, an introvert bordering on anxious, sometimes, and I was left feeling shaken and exhausted by our first few hours on the island.  There was also the assumption, either because we were Americans or because we were simply foreigners, that we were in Jamaica to party and get high.  Weed is legal there, up to a certain amount, so it would not have been wrong for us to partake.

I think Ross was convinced he'd NEVER get
me to the beach.

However, Ross and I are not "party people". I'm pretty sure that we are the textbook definition of "not party people".  We rarely drink, although sometimes we enjoy a glass of red wine with our Netflix, pajamas, and pizza dates.  See?  I told you.  We're boring.  We don't even do "Netflix and chill".  We do "Netflix and fall asleep halfway through the movie". We politely but emphatically replied to every person inquiring about our plans that we were there to enjoy the beach and work on our (nonexistent) tans.  As alcohol was part of the all-inclusive nature of the resort, we did have a drink with dinner most nights, but that was it.  I can honestly say that, as a freshly-minted 34-year-old, I've never been drunk in my life and I'm okay with that.  I've also never been high.  Yeah - I was mostly the goody-two-shoes in high school...and college...and I think I actually still am, so never mind.  It's just who I am.

The alligator won, BTW...

We stayed at the Grand Palladium and it truly was beautiful.  There were three buffet restaurants and five ethnic restaurants, and the food was pretty amazing.  Something that struck us as interesting in the ethnic restaurants was that we as Americans really have a skewed image of portion sizes.  When Ross and I ordered appetizers, they were exactly that.  A few bites of a delicious and well-prepared food item, presented artfully.  In America it's a cinch to order an appetizer that spoils your whole meal because you're too full to eat your entree!  Determined not to be close-minded, culinarily speaking, I tried several different foods at the buffets: ginger-seafood soup (with whole prawns still floating in the pot), jerk chicken (yes, it's very good), and braised kidney. 

#bodyacceptance

The kidney ended up in my napkin, TBH.

Ross proudly announced that we'd checked two items off his "marriage bucket list".  We swam in the ocean, and we played mini-golf.  I know it's hard to believe, but we had not, until last week, even enjoyed mini-golf as a married couple.  Granted, the "course" on the island was pretty pitiful and there were no real challenges, but we did it and Ross did end up with a hole-in-one.  At one point, I think I missed the ball three times, then finally kicked it into the hole.  

My grandfather would be so ashamed.

I really missed Ronen, more than I thought I would.  There were a lot of children at the resort, everywhere from a few months old to school-age kids.  There were provisions made for children, including a day-care center and special entertainment just for them.  In hindsight, I think Ronen would have enjoyed certain aspects of the trip, but I don't know if it would have been worth the trouble to get him his passport and work our schedule around his.  Especially since he's not walking yet and has recently been plagued with ear infections.  Maybe next time.

On a more light-hearted note, I wanted to share some things I learned - specifically as a petite/plus-sized, curly-haired, pale female traveling to a Caribbean island.  Here are my tips:

Yes, I found an island cat.
Two, actually,

1. Your hair will not obey you.  If you straighten it, it will curl.  If you curl it, it will frizz.  You will NOT have "mermaid hair".  Don't bother with products.  Throw it in a messy bun and be at peace with your world.

2. Shapewear will be useless.  It is so humid that the spandex will literally melt to your flesh.  Just be pudgy and be free, sister.  Embrace your curves.

3. You might think maxi dresses would be your savior, but unless you bring ones cut from actual, breathable material, you're dead wrong, lady.

4. BABY POWDER BABY POWDER BABY POWDER.  If your thighs touch in any way, you MUST PROTECT THEM FROM THEMSELVES or you will have heat rash for weeks after you return.  Trust me on this one.

5. If you're not going to the clubs, leave the clubwear at home.  Sexy strappy platforms are great for, like, full-body photo ops and that's pretty much it.

6. Protect your lips SWEET MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS SACRED PROTECT YOUR LIPS!  Ross and I were pretty careful with sunscreen but I forgot my lips and now, a week later, they are still stiff, sore, and peeling.  Ouch, ouch.

"Caribbean Blue" is a REAL color!

7. Don't be bullied into buying anything you don't want.  The hotel employees were pretty persistent when it came to pushing spa packages and whatnot.  Couples are better targets, so Ross and I frequently split up when walking past them, and met up again at our destination.  Also, those photographers aren't just being nice - they are employees, too, and that great shot they got of you in the ocean (without your awareness, by the way), will cost you $50.  Ross and I avoided this by looking unhappy with each other whenever he came around.  It was our private joke.  We looked like the angriest couple at the resort in order to avoid harassment.  You have to do what you have to do.


8. Your swimsuit should be designed for swimming, if you will be swimming.  Two-piece, one-piece, whatever.  Just make sure you can actually move in it without a wardrobe malfunction, unless you just plan on lying around looking pretty.  Which is fine, too, really.

In spite of our antics, we actually DID and DO
enjoy each others' company...

9.  Leggings for the plane.  I saw women traipsing through the airport in fancy scarves and stiletto boots and that's cool and everything, but I'm all leggings and flip-flops and glasses and a jacket and crosswords.  I didn't have anyone to impress.  Oh, and if you need compression stockings for travel, DO IT.  For your health.  Seriously.  

10.  Be open to trying new things.  Which might include accepting and actually loving your own body for the first time ever.  Island magic!

The Much-Anticipated Disney Post!

It's been a few months, but I still wanted to share about the incredibly wonderful Disney vacation Ross and I enjoyed in October.  I posted all the pictures on Facebook, but several of my friends and family just aren't into that.  So, I'm adding some of them here.  It's hard to capture in words and pictures how awesome it was, but I'll try!

Ross and I hadn't been on a bona-fide vacation since our honeymoon to Texas in 2010.  We'd had a few weekend getaways, but nothing that was really spectacular.  After having a few very emotional months (both my mother and his grandmother passed away in 2013) we really wanted to do something special for ourselves last year.  So, we planned to head to Disney during the week of Ross's birthday.  He'd been there before, but I never had.  As the date of our departure approached, I turned into one of those little kids in the commercials I grew up with.  "I CAN'T SLEEP!"  We took the advice of several friends and carefully planned out our meals in advance, but were willing to "play it by ear" for most everything else.  I just wanted to explore the Happiest Place on Earth!

The weather was beautiful.  Other than a few sprinkles that Tuesday morning, we experienced pleasantly hot temperatures, usually in the mid-eighties or above.  (What a shock when we came back home to 40 degrees and cloudy skies!)

Birthday boy!

From the moment we boarded the bus - er, Magical Express - to head to the park, I could hardly believe I was there.  It's true - the staff at Disney is wonderfully welcoming, kind, and friendly.  Nearly every employee acknowledged Ross's "birthday boy" pin and was sure to wish him a special day.  We stayed at the charmingly kitschy Pop Century Resort, which was decorated with cutouts and loads of memorabilia from the 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's.  (We stayed in the 80's portion of the complex, like, totally.) 

Geek gathering grounds...

I'm the short one, in case you can't tell.

Our first stop was Hollywood Studios, where we saw the Muppets in 3-D, Ross created his own Star Wars-inspired droid, and I hopped on a speeder bike.  Thanks to my college friend Dave, who works pyrotechnics for the parks, we got front-row seating at the Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacular - and I ended up onstage as a volunteer!  That was very, very cool.  Ross's birthday meal was enjoyed at the supremely geeky Sci-Fi Diner, in which patrons are seated inside convertible cars facing a movie screen, drive-in style.  Clips from tacky, B-movies are shown, as well as advertisements from the 50's and 60's.  The meal was incredible.  I can say that about every scrap of food we ate in the parks!  Even the "fast food" was pretty special.  I ordered the salmon sandwich, which happened to be pretty much the size of my head, and Ross got a burger and the most delicious caramel apple pie milkshake I could ever imagine.  Plus dessert!  We were so full from that meal that we decided we'd probably be splitting our meals for the rest of the trip.  The meal plan is set up for you to do that, if you wish, and we figured it would be better to risk feeling a little hungry rather than being unable to move after eating!  (We certainly never went hungry, by the way!)

Nope. No Time Lords here...

Nothing like a man in a vest...

The next day, we headed to Epcot.  Ross achieved the rank of Junior Ranger when we visited Canada, and I fangirled all over myself when we saw that almost half of the gift shop in England consisted of Doctor Who merchandise.  We really enjoyed the street performers in France and Italy - mimes and musicians who were certainly more imaginative than what we Americans often assume!

LJS will never live up to this.

Reppin' the T.A.R.D.I.S.

Dave, Katie and their cute little girls!

When we had originally booked our reservations, we didn't realize that the International Food & Wine Festival was slated to occur when we were there.  I hadn't thought much of it, since Ross and I aren't big drinkers, but the more I read about it, the more interested I got.  Authentically-prepared traditional dishes from all over the world were being served in temporary booths, along with the regional foods offered in the permanent displays.  Over the course of the week, we tried fish 'n' chips and pale ale in a London pub, garlicky escargot and creamy-smooth caramel gelato in France, tempura and sushi in Japan, filet mignon with truffle sauce in Canada, kimchi dogs in Korea, mint tea and lamb shanks in Morocco, plus lots of other great food in the more traditionally American restaurants.  I would have to say that Epcot was my favorite place, since I love learning about history, other cultures, and - yep - ethnic foods.  We ended up there on three out of the five days we were in Disney!  The fireworks display on the lake, "Illuminations of Earth", was moving and very beautiful.  We ended up seeing that twice, as well; once on our own and once with Dave's lovely family.

Newlyweds!

She-Ra, eat your heart out.

On day three, we finally set off for the Magic Kingdom.  When you're surrounded by castles and fairy tale characters, it's easy to feel like a little kid, wanting nothing more than to put on your own crown and pretend to be a princess.  Which, as you can see in the picture, I did, of course.  Getting to meet one of my favorite princesses, Ariel, was a real treat.  We talked hair - what a surprise!  Something else that was very special, though, was that our newlywed friends Colleen and Adam, whose wedding we had to miss due to our vacation, were spending that day in Disney, and we were able to join them for lunch!  Talk about magical!  We decided on the relatively new "Be Our Guest" restaurant.  With its Beauty and the Beast themed décor and food, it was perfect for the French-speaking Colleen and myself.  And the boys?  They just wanted the roast beef sandwiches.  (Which, naturally, were fantastic.) 


He wears a fez now. 
Fezzes are cool.

Days for and five saw our return to Epcot, after a quick stop back at Hollywood Studios to ride the Toy Story arcade game (Ross kicked my butt when it came to high scores).  In Epcot, I was encouraged by the skywriting (see below) we saw over the park, though I know some people were probably irritated or offended.  I thought it was cool.  We finished our rounds at the Food & Wine Festival and met up with yet another old buddy - my former Starbucks co-worker, Jen! 


Unexpected and neat.  :-)

When we finally had to pack up our bags and say "bye-bye" to that famous mouse, I admit, I was ready to go home, but already thinking about returning to the park with our future children.  I was so impressed at how kid-friendly the park really is, with bathrooms on every corner, stroller "parking lots" and lots of kid-approved food that isn't all junk.  We'd like to come back when our kids are over three - which is great, because it will take us that long to save up again! 

So, not the next King of England. 
No biggie.   Still the king of my heart!

All in all, we had a real blast.  It was so much fun being there as a couple because our decisions were our own - not based on who had to potty, who was thirsty, and who wanted to see Princess Aurora RIGHT NOW.  We'll have that adventure a few years down the road.

In conclusion, here are my tips for folks who are considering a trip to Disney anytime soon. I'm certainly no travel guru, but I learned a few things that week!

1. Take advantage of the meal plan.  The portions are large; you can split meals with family.  If you're not hungry, you can "save" meals to eat later, or grab "to-go" food instead of eating at sit-down restaurants.  That being said, if there's a place you'd really like to try, book your dining reservation in advance!  We're talking like 3 months in advance. No joke; when we tried to make changes a few weeks before our trip, there were no reservations available in the entire park!

2. Wear comfortable shoes.  That seems like a no-brainer, but I brought shoes that I thought were comfortable, only to learn that they weren't really appropriate for 12 hours of walking in the hot sun.

3. Pick a time of year that the park will be less crowded.  According to our inside man, Dave, the park is practically devoid of life from the week after Thanksgiving until right before Christmas.  Our October visit was pretty nice, too.

4. Let the park employees take your picture!  Yes, it's expensive, but you don't have to buy any shots you don't like, plus your whole group actually gets to be in them, rather than taking awkward selfies in front of Cinderella's castle (trust me, they won't work very well).



Hulk SMASH the
 competition!

5. Do stop at Downtown Disney - without the kids.  It's more of an adult-friendly shopping area.  But if the kids insist...you can drop them off at the gigantic Lego store that is there.  That's where Ross and I spent most of our time, since we're pretty much 30-something children anyway.  It's where I met my new boyfriend.  He's big and green.

6. Take advantage of Magic Bands (they serve as room keys, identification, tokens, and allow purchases to be made) and Fast Passes.  I can't stress this enough!  Ross and I joked that the seemingly limitless capabilities of the Magic Bands made them Disney's version of the Mark of the Beast, but they were extremely helpful in navigating the parks and allowed us to focus on fun, not where our key cards had been left, or where our credit cards were.  Fast Passes allow quick access to certain rides during certain times.  Consider getting the MyDisneyExperience app for your phone as well, which allows you to make and cancel reservations, gives to real-time wait times in all the parks, lets you know about special events, and allows you to book up to three Fast Passes per guest per day in advance.  It also serves as GPS when you're within the park.

6. There's no shame in dressing like your favorite character.  No matter how old you are!

Sometimes, vacation selfies are okay.


(Please note that all photographs published in this post are the sole property of the author.  You may share the link to the page but you may NOT REPOST any individual pictures without permission.  Thank you for your consideration.)

Eye of the Beholder

Last week, Ross and I spent a day in Washington, D.C. I had been there four times previously, but never as a sightseer.  Once, I went for a debate tournament and ended up in the hospital with a severe allergic reaction (thanks, dude at Ben & Jerry's who didn't clean the scoop between uses).  Another time, I went as the wardrobe mistress for Songs for a New World, which Clarion University had the honor of performing at the Kennedy Center.  Another time, my sister and I joined the March for Life, held in a particuarly bitter January (we did end up with our pictures in a news article).  And once, I was just passing through, catchinhg a connecting flight back to Pittsburgh.  I got to fly over the Potomac at sunset.  It was beautiful.

But this time, Ross and I were the touristy sort.  I shamelessly flashed my camera everywhere, including places it was prohibited (I got three clean shots before being shut down but the polite but stern security guard).  I was surprised, though, at how many of the Smithsonian Institute Museums actually DO allow photography.  It was a sightseer's dream come true.

There was a particularly cool exhibit about the government's influence on America's eating habits, including rationing and government-sponsored food campaigns.  One was about eating more carp.  It was awesome.  I also noticed no apologies issued for America's over-consumption of simple carbohydrates, but then, you can't have it all.  To my delight, there was a small patch, much like a Boy or Girl Scout badge, that advertized "Heinz's Ketchup".  How charming!  Representin' the Steel City, baby!

In addition, Ross and I meandered over to the public archives to do a little digging about our respective family histories.  I've always been  fascinated about my unusual maiden name, and why it was so hard to trace my lineage back to my family's native Belgium.  Well, I found out why when I saw a copy of my great-grand-uncle's marriage certificate.  Louise Paulette married a Geroges Henri TILLIETTE on June 8, 1890.  The spelling of my family's name had, in fact, been changed when they came to America!  I was enraptured!  Finally, I might be able to trace my history further back than Ellis Island records indicate!  Still, there are some "holes" in my history that are proving more difficult than delightful.  For example, there's no record of Georges Henri actually coming to America, nor his brother Joseph, who was my great-grandfather.  In addition, there were three seperate women named Pauline in the family tree, making things even more twisted.  I learned more about both my grandfathers' service records, and that there is no birth record of my mother, my aunt, or myself.  Still, those records are being updated all the time, and since there aren't a lot of people searching for Thielets and Kuskils, I don't imagine they're being worked on too hastily.

We ate a quick but delicious lunch at Taqeria Nacional, a tiny Mexican joint wedged behind and incredibly classy seafood house.  We joyfully clutched our greasy bag of delicious tacos and our bottle of Mexican Coca-Cola and squeezed past the huge sea of "regulars" - almost all middle-class power-suited whites - and sat down against the building across the street.  With Ross's huge backpack and our scrubby jeans, people must have thought we were homeless.  I didn't care.  My fish taco was awesome. 

As fun as everything was, the best part, for me, came when we stopped at a Sheetz in Maryland.  There was a trio of noisy pre-teen girls jabbering about a boy or something, in front of us as we waited for my sandwich (turkey on wheat with veggies, no dressing) and Ross's smoothie (epic strawberry banana masterpiece).  The employee called out Ross's drink, and the littlest girl looked towards us, saying, "Is this yours?" Immediately, we had all their attention.  "Are you really in the army?" one girl asked, indicating Ross's shirt.  "No," I apologized, feeling his muscles. "But he looks like he could be, doesn't he?" "Are you boyfriend-girlfriend?" the other girl asked.  "We're married," Ross replied, showing them his wedding ring.  "We're from Pittsburgh," I offered.  "Oooh, I bet you're Steelers fans!  I'm sorry about that last game, but you guys have the whole season to make it up!"  I laughed.  Were these the girls who had irritated me only minutes before because they were being too noisy?  How unfair of me.  The ringleader of the group turned to me. "You're really pretty!" she said.  I melted.  Me?  Pretty?  A few moments before, in the car, I had been mercilessly picking at a pimple on my chin, complaining to Ross that I still had to lose the few pounds I had put on during my pregnancy.  I was in a shapeless black dress and dumpy sweater.  But this little girl thought I was pretty?

"Thank you, sweetie," I said humbly.  Ross came back from paying for our food, and the girls beamed.  "I wish you a happy marriage!" one said.

"God bless you girls," I said, silently thanking the Lord that he had arranged for that chance meeting.

"God bless you, too!" they replied proudly.