Annual Letter - 2011

Over the past several years in the life of our family, things have seemed to move so quickly forward that an extended look back has not seemed a worthy use of time. Yet, this December, as Melia and I celebrated our 20th anniversary, we have both been intentionally more reflective, not only of the past year, but from where we have come in aggregate. These annual letters to friends and family have served as a guide as we contemplated not necessarily the road ahead, but the road behind.

20 years. It sounds like a long time, and truth is, it is. I cannot comment on the stories of other couples that have been together for more than two decades, but ours certainly has been one of trial and error. To celebrate our milestone, Melia and I went away without our boys to Crested Butte, Colorado for a few days to ski, but mostly to reminisce through 20 years of tears, laughter, confusion, and the odd moment of clarity. We shook our heads as we wondered out loud together how these two souls ever made it this far, still together. We truly do not really know the answer to that mystery but whatever the reasons be, we will take it.

Our life together has been centered around making it, creating a home and giving our two boys as much opportunity in whatever avenues they dream of. I must admit looking back has not been easy as our many mistakes come glaring through. But we are concluding that we are more than making it – we are in fact thriving as a family with our collective ups and downs. Our story is more than survival but one of home and family and all that it has the possibility to be.

The physical exhaustion of raising 2 little boys has given way this year to the mental exhaustion of helping 2 young adolescents navigate their emerging freedom and the myriad of choices they are arrayed with. Of course, this is more so with Tanner right now who is 15 years old and can clearly see the horizon of post-high school getting closer. We see it as well and there are days when we are not quite sure if we want to push that horizon further away or bring it on more rapidly. Tanner has grown into a strong, competitive, energetic, and creative young man. 2011 has proven to be one of his more difficult years in life for a number of reasons, but he has come through strong. We all know there are times when getting through is a victory all its own. This has been Tanner’s lesson this past year. Tanner continues to excel at long-boarding, soccer, snowboarding, and has now added drums and singing in a band to his outlets. He is learning that it is ok to excel at academics, but this is an area a bit outside his liking at the moment.

Konner will not admit it, but he loves school. He made a tough decision this year and chose a different Middle School than where most of his friends were going. The difficulty in parenting Konner will be to have him not spend too much time on assignments and projects from school. He has no problem having fun with his friends, playing soccer, skiing, skateboarding, as well as learning both drums and guitar. With Konner, we work to help him find balance. He is up early each day, ready to face whatever comes. He will be turning 12 in a month from now. He is in the 6th grade and already trying to figure out what high school he should go to in a few years.

Beyond our jobs, Melia and I found some time this year to get away. In July, Melia was able to come with me on a business trip to Indonesia where we were able to steal a few days away and take some surfing lessons in Bali. As mentioned earlier, we also spent a few days in Crested Butte where being together mattered more than the lack of ideal snow conditions for good skiing. Taking a peak ahead into 2012, getting away alone – if only for a day or two – will prove to be more important in the next chapters of our lives, I think.

2011 did have its share of adventure. Melia and the boys traveled to Joplin for the annual cousin camp in June where instead of the normal activities they spent the week cleaning up after the devastating tornado. I am not sure the boys appreciated the experience but they were able to serve in small ways people whose lives had literally been turned upside down by a brutal force of nature almost immediately after it happened.

While they were in Missouri, I traveled back to Kenya with The 1010 Project to introduce a new Executive Director to our partners. It was humbling to see both the growth of the work started 7 years ago as well as how heroic our friends and partners in Kenya continue to be. Honestly, I miss that work on the ground in some of the more difficult places in the world. 1010 continues to evolve and root itself amongst other international NGOs and I remain humbled by the people who work on behalf of its efforts.

In comparison to other years, 2011 feels like an uneventful year for our family. In truth, however, being home more and finding some time together amongst the daily madness are meaningful events in their own right. For me, it has meant less travel so I can coach Konner’s U12 soccer team or simply be around with Tanner as he attempts to navigate the road ahead, both literally as he learns to drive, and figuratively. For Melia and I, it means continuing to nurture our relationship even after 20+ years. We have so much to learn and so much room to grow, which is both daunting as well as exciting.

We are sure of one thing. We have not come this far alone. As we reflected, we thought of so many people who have taught us how to build a home and cared for us along the way. From our early days there was Charlie & Rhonda King, Steve & Rhonda Knight, and Dale & Michelle Marshall. In Houston, there was Tim & Terry Champagne and Gary & Mickie Marshall, both couples who are heroic to us. In Colorado, we owe much to Larry & Marta Williams as well as Tim & Elaine Dally. When we moved to England, Simon & Jane Ward reached out to us while we were in a very wounded state. And we cannot say enough about Mike and Wanda Farra. It has been said that “it takes a village” to raise children. Well, Melia and I were kids when we got married and that proverbial village has surrounded us and nurtured us through each stage, teaching and modeling for us simply how to be. We both sincerely hope that we have contributed as well.

Thank you to all who have been and continue to be a part of our story. Thank you for allowing us in whatever way to be a part of yours.

Many blessings in 2012 – Andrew, Melia, Tanner, and Konner Syed

The Annual Letter - 2010

December, 2010

It’s December 31st, 2010, and I am just now sitting down to write the annual letter. Call it writer’s block or whatever, but for some reason this entire year I have found it difficult to write about much of anything. That difficulty has now made its impact on our annual letter.

Certainly, 2010 has been another eventful year for our family. We have not moved, though I did go through a major job change. Melia is teaching 1st grade again. Tanner started his freshman year of high school. We traveled east over the summer to visit my extended family and learn some kite-boarding in the Atlantic Ocean. As always, there was lots of soccer. There were no significant injuries to report, though emotionally we all were given pause when I worked in Afghanistan in February. In fact, it was that experience that ultimately led, I believe, to the decisions that brought us to the outlook and place we find ourselves today.

Peering into the future is always a dangerous guess as you end up gambling on events that have yet to transpire. As someone who thrives on idealism, vision, and risk-taking, I have often found the temptation to look ahead too strong. I have never dwelt much in the past, rather it has been the future that has stolen my allegiance. But I am learning. I am learning and working to spend more time in the present. And I can pinpoint the exact moment in 2010 when that lesson started.

In February, I realized a dream of mine when I landed the opportunity to work in Afghanistan for Amnesty International. I was appointed as researcher on a mission to explore, understand and address the plight of Internally Displaced People (IDPs) who have been uprooted because of the ongoing conflict as well as deteriorating economic conditions. My heritage comes from the Persian/Arabic part of the world, so to work amongst people who knew my face was redemptive. I traveled all over the country and shared stories with very brave and enduring people. The hospitality extended me was overwhelming and humbling. I have been to every continent and in all my travels I honestly cannot think of another group of people with more strength, resilience, and heart.

Of course, this resilience comes from generations of conflict. From Genghis Khan and Alexander the Great to the Soviets and the Taliban, Afghanistan is a place that has been raped and pillaged by everyone else throughout history. Now, conflicting parties fight a war in their yard once again. Caught in the middle, most Afghans long for a peace they can only imagine. Daily life wraps seamlessly around military convoys, gunfire, the threat of kidnapping, IED’s, and suicide bombings. It was one of these bombings that literally got my attention at 6:30am on a Friday morning.

Roughly 300m from my guesthouse, a car bomb exploded, blowing me across my bed and shattering the front window of our dining hall. As I collected my thoughts, I also collected my grab-bag and ran out to our designated safe area to assess what was happening. For the next 3 hours, gunfire could be heard just outside the walls. We needed to stay put so for the next few hours I attempted to find ways of exercising out my adrenaline. We watched CNN to learn what was happening on the streets around our guesthouse. I called home to make sure all knew that I was ok. I called London to do the same with my colleagues. I contemplated those who face these dangers everyday. And I thought about all the communities and people I had interacted with around the world during the last several years in my work. As chaos rained outside, I realized that all I really had was that moment and I wanted more moments, as much as I could possibly control, to be spent with my family.

Human rights work can be personally devastating. To be exposed on a daily basis to the worst that humanity does to each other and itself has the potential to steal your very soul. Of course, there are heroic examples of people everyday combating conflict, poverty, oppression, disease, and disenfranchisement but too often than not there is the steady tide of despair that threatens to overwhelm. Our family lives with the strange tension of knowing peace and prosperity while much of humanity in which we share this place lives with only theoretical knowledge of such concepts. We work hard to not take it for granted, but it is indeed hard work. My moment in Afghanistan is in every essence minimal compared to what people endure there daily. That car-bomb killed 17 Indian doctors, killed by Taliban from Pakistan for simply being from India. As I stood at the bombsite 5 hours later, I was moved by the brutal force of raw violence that most of us only view as entertainment on our TVs, as well as the sheer irrationality of the whole ordeal. Again, these moments sped my mind to home and to the three other people I have chosen ultimate allegiance to.

So, I went home. Over the course of the next several months, I left my position as a Human Rights Researcher and Campaigner with Amnesty International and took a job in Corporate Environmental and Social Responsibility in the Denver area that keeps me home a lot more. I still travel, but I am home more often than not. I am coaching Konner’s soccer team. I am at most of Tanner’s games. And most importantly, Melia and I are taking small steps in renewing our relationship and the commitments we hold to this family we both have been gifted with.

In now our 20th year together as a family, we have found ways to survive. But this past year, we as a family are enjoying a renewal with a deeper appreciation for each other and for our identity together. There is no substitute for being home, being around, being together. Watching Tanner grow from a child into a young man, full of questions and energy and life is both taxing and exciting. Konner continues to challenge us with his propensity for risk-taking and adventure, a trait in him I both fear and am proud of. Both boys continue to excel at soccer, but now have added skateboarding and long-boarding to their athletic repertoire. But they are not the sum of their talents and activities. They are great kids simply and completely because of who they are.

Our year was full of some of the traditional events including Cousin Camp, Thanksgiving in Missouri, and a quiet Christmas here at home. But these events had an underlying theme of renewal for us. Time together playing texas hold’em, or in a car on a cross-country trip, or skiing together in our Colorado mountains – these everyday activities have an increased sense of importance for us these days. Maybe it is because we do peer into the future a bit and can see a day when our kids will be moving on. Or maybe it is more of a sense of gratefulness that despite all that goes on around us in this mad world, we are still here and still together. We are fully aware that this is no small thing. Indeed, my thoughts still wander to the corners of our globe where such things are not the in the landscape. But right now, I need to be home.

It snowed 5 inches here yesterday. Outside my window, the air is cold and the streets and yards are painted white. Tanner is on his way out the door to his friend Quinn’s house to snowboard and no doubt concoct some plan to build some sort of jump. Konner is eating lunch with his friend Eli in our kitchen, and he as well is headed out to go sledding. Melia is taking down Christmas decorations. Stig the dog is chewing his squeeze toy. And I am sitting on this couch trying to encapsulate all that these scenes mean to me on a page. I can’t.

This year much of the world recognized that it has been 30 years since John Lennon was killed. During that week, all I could think of were his lyrics, “All we are saying is give peace a chance.” The lords of war amongst us scoff at such idealism but the Christ of Christmas was called the Prince of Peace. It is not too much to ask, both in our homes and around our world. I hope this season and moreover the coming year for you and yours is one of peace, in your homes and yes, around our mad world.

As-Salaamu `Alaykum


Andrew, Melia, Tanner & Konner Syed

Catching Up....

Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve posted anything on our travel adventure blog. Sorry about that – but what that really means is that we have been busy with normal life. Life in another country can sound exotic, but we have our weekly routine of school, work and driving two boys around to their various activities. In this sense, life hasn’t changed at all.

It hasn’t been completely uneventful here, though. Over the Christmas break, we spent a few days with my cousin Nazrene and her family in Bristol, which is west of here and near Wales. We spent a day in Wales at an ancient castle, fighting the brutal cold but exploring a site that was constructed in the 1300s. The boys were most fascinated with the catapult machines that apparently still work.

We also drove out to Land’s End, as far West as you can go on this island. Rocky cliffs and stiff, cold wind mark the literal end of land here in England. Konner looked in the distance to the southwest and commented that this was as close to the USA he had been since leaving home last July. I think he was trying to see rocky mountain peaks beyond that horizon.

A key part of our break was spent in Halston, a small town where my Aunt Irene is buried. Just 30 years of age when she died, she was an important part of my childhood. I was just 13 when cancer took her, but I remember her clearly and vividly. It was important to me to take my boys to her place of rest and let them meet her, if you will. It was more emotional than I anticipated – after all that was almost 25 years ago – but it was the first time I had the opportunity to visit. To watch my boys gently lay flowers at her grave was quite moving.

We welcomed the New Year with fireworks, then like everyone else, ventured into an unknown 2009. It’s mid-March now, and some things have changed – the biggest news being that we will be moving back to Colorado in August.

There are lots of reasons we’re headed back, but mostly it’s about wanting to be back home. We are very fortunate in these days of economic uncertainty that Melia and I both have jobs. Melia has her teaching job waiting for her at Ryan Elementary and Amnesty International has agreed to let me work remotely with periodic trips to London and of course my various jaunts to other corners of the world as needed. So, it seems a good arrangement thus far, living where we want to live and doing the jobs that allow us to contribute to humanity as we feel we should.

We haven’t been completely immune to the economic ills of this world. When I took this job just one year ago, one British pound was equal to about $2.10. As I write this today, it is worth just $1.35, which means our income has basically lost over 1/3 of its value. Melia can earn more for her work in Colorado than here in the UK, so as financially it made sense for us a year ago to come here, now it makes more sense for us to head back. Funny how a year changes the world. Actually, it hasn’t been funny, but you know what I mean.

Mostly though, this is about home. Our boys have had a good year here thus far, but they want to run around Lafayette. Melia has earned her stripes in learning a completely new education system and teaching in not the easiest of schools here, and she deserves to be in a place of familiarity. And me, well I miss mountains, space, and a few good friends, so it seems the right thing for all of us.

But, we’re still here for the next four months. We have trips to France, Germany, Holland and either Spain or Italy planned. And if all goes well, we’ll be back at altitude around 1 August. We might not have any of our stuff with us, but we’ll be home.

Cheers – Andrew & family

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

A Christmas Letter - 2008

For the first time that I can remember, I really did not want to sit down and write this letter. Most years, I look forward to reflecting on the year that was and identifying some learning points to dwell in and share. Not this year, and I don’t know why.

Like most I’m sure, I can’t believe it is December, 2008. The place and space that our family finds itself in today is so radically different from a year ago, it is hard to know where to begin. The bottom line is that after 10 years of making Colorado home, we’ve moved. That’s big enough news in and of itself, but we’ve actually moved out of the country to London, England. This year has been about uprooting, moving, and the difficulty of leaving and finding all that is home.

It sounds romantic and amazing to move to Europe. Let us assure you, it is not. There are great things to do and see here, but life is lived everyday, and for us, the everyday has similar routines with now very different scenery. We get up, go to school and work, take kids to practice, wrestle with homework and bills, clean house, and generally stay fairly busy – just as we had done in Colorado. Yet, now we navigate these routines in very unfamiliar territories, and to be honest, it has not been a picnic.

It is ironic that as a child I moved some 30 times before I was 18. One would think that my children would not mind just 1 move, but they have. Our very special Konner especially has felt the pain of missing friends and familiarities the deepest, we think. Most every evening still, he expresses a longing to return home. As a dad, it is a difficult thing to negotiate. Tanner as well has transitioned slowly and has endured the hard lessons of being the new kid in school and on sports teams. For a 12 year-old, these are indeed hard lessons.

How do parents help their children through such times when they themselves are struggling to make sense of it all? We did not invite this radical change, but economic uncertainties forced a decision. In this, we are no different from countless of families in these challenging times. Literally thousands are losing not only houses, but places called home, and for kids, this is all the security they might know.

Home is definitely more than a structure with four walls and a ceiling. It is about family, obviously, but it is also about community. We miss this at times in our individualistic culture. The importance of community in living life is many times lost as we pursue career and opportunity. The transient nature of our society diminishes the role of community, but not its importance. For us, the greatest lost of 2008 has been a community called Lafayette. It is still there, certainly, and we might go back, but right now it feels a long way away.

Loss can mean gain, and we are no exception. We live just outside of London on the east side and have gained new friends, a new school and new scenery. During our first uncertain days here, some people from a local church expressed their faith truly and deeply in acts of generosity and listening and support. Our fridge and pantry were filled and sheets were brought to sleep on as we waited for our household goods to arrive by ship. For about 3 weeks in July and August our house was void of furniture and trinkets and it felt like a vacation. The holiday ended, though, when the truck arrived and the unpacking began. It was a strange day, unloading our family possessions into a new house in a new country. There was a sense of ‘uh-oh’ with the boys, as if they knew this meant we were staying.

Both boys are learning the knocks of English soccer. They have found a place on local teams and are realizing that their skill and commitment level to the world game might have been lacking back in the USA. Here, it’s religion and a very serious endeavour. Slowly, they are catching up.

Each day when the boys get up, they have to dress up in their school uniform. Konner dressed in slacks and a golf-type shirt and Tanner in slacks, shirt and tie, and blazer. To their credit, they have not complained about the new attire, but as soon as they get home, they change.

A benefit of this new life is that Melia teaches at the same school that Konner and Tanner attend. She would have to tell you first hand of her experience teaching in the UK, the differences and similarities, the strengths and weaknesses. She is still as committed as ever to teaching excellence and is finishing her Master’s Degree from the University of Colorado online as this year wraps up. There have been ups and downs in her experience in this new environment, to be fair. We are all hoping that the new year will see some ease in her workload.

I now work for Amnesty International in its London offices. I’ve been travelling quite a bit recently and may continue to do so in the new year. I’m still fascinated with the people I meet around the world who are marginalized and many times brutalized by the systems that exist around them. Poverty still troubles me, and the battle inside of me this year is for it not to defeat me. The world is not a beautiful place for most people. It is a fact that many of us forget all too often. This year, I've been to Kenya, Brazil and Romania and visited what seems the depths of human suffering. I've also worked from Geneva and New York at the United Nations at what feels like the heights of human idealism. I've yet to make sense of any of it. If you are reading this letter, please remember, you and I are the fortunate ones. We should not only be grateful, but active in bringing that good fortune to others. What else can we possibly be here for?

The 10/10 Project has continued on without me, which is a very surreal reality. At the end of last year, a documentary was made on our work in Kenya, which you can view if you like at www.oneplusonefilm.com. For me, it serves as sort of a legacy film, reminding me that good can be done and difference can be made, no matter how overwhelming the issues. This is important for our family as we have literally given all away and more to the rights of the poor and to teaching children. In fact, we might have given too much, which makes our days here in the UK a sort of needed recovery.

2008 has been a year of confusion and clarity all at the same time. We are working on rediscovering ourselves after years of emptying ourselves. Melia and I need to rebuild a relationship. Our home needs to find its joy again. Somehow, someway, we need to make this adventure of living here a healing process. We’ve haven’t figured it out just yet, but there is 2009. I cannot predict what will happen or where we will be a year from now, but hopefully, the important things will be good once again.

To all of you – peace,

Andrew, Melia, Tanner & Konner SYED

Watching History from Here...

I stayed up all night watching the US elections. Here in the UK, it was just after 4am when Barack Obama was projected by CNN as the next President of the United States. I lifted my weary head off the couch pillow and watched both John McCain and Barack Obama give great speeches. From across the Atlantic, in a country where I was born but is not my home, I was proud to be an American citizen.

Melia and I both have been Obama supporters. For the first time in our lives, we even made a few donations to the political campaign. By default, Tanner and Konner have been in the Obama camp as well. As they went to bed long before any results came in, I made sure they could appreciate the gravity of the history that was about to be made, no matter what the outcome. An African-American in the White House, or a female Vice-President. Wow. Either way, can we all stop for at least a moment and reflect on what a historic moment Nov 4, 2008 indeed was? This is what I tried to tell my 12 and 8 year old young boys as they drifted off to sleep on what for them was just another day.

It might not matter to you, but I wanted to tell you that the view from most on this side of the Atlantic is hopeful and positive. And I’m not only referring to Obama, though this is certainly the case. The best of the USA was on display last night. The world, deeply divided by conflict, poverty, terrorism, climate change and this economic crisis, still looks westward to a land of opportunity. As they watched a white man concede peacefully and a black man give a determined speech to thousands, what they see indeed reveals the truth. For all its faults, every four years, the USA reveals its true greatness, not in military might but in the power of people deciding themselves who will lead them. The irony is not lost on me that Kenya celebrates while just a year ago it could not do the same in its elections.

I have heard John McCain give two great speeches in the last few weeks. One was at the Al Smith dinner in New York, where Obama was also in attendance. It’s worth a watch on YouTube, in the midst of a heated campaign. The second was last night, in graceful concession. He is a great man. Our country still needs him.

I know he has been a divisive figure, but watching Jesse Jackson in tears last night was quite moving. We forget that Rev. Jackson was there with Martin Luther King, Jr. during the dangerous days of the Civil Rights Movement. He was there on that terrace when MLK, Jr. was shot in Memphis. That famous photograph is not only of Dr. King laying in his own blood, but of Rev. Jackson (and others) pointing towards the roof from whence the shot came. He was there on that fateful day in April, 1968. I wonder what he was thinking last night as Obama became President-elect?

A close friend of mine who did some inner-city work in Memphis, TN years ago tells me a story of an aged African-American woman who marched with Dr. King from Selma to Montgomery. She still speaks of the bricks thrown, the tear gas and the billy clubs used by police, and the amazing verbal hatred hurled at them most every step as they peacefully made their way after three attempts from Selma to Montgomery in 1965. She still works amongst the urban poor in Memphis. I wonder what she was thinking last night? No matter your politics, I sincerely hope you can appreciate the history.

Today, most of us will get up, get our kids ready for school, head to work, and continue to do our best to make this day a little better than yesterday. In that, it would be easy to assume that not much has changed. But change generally doesn’t happen in giant leaps, but in small steps. I don’t know if this election will actually result in anything pragmatic. That remains to be seen. I am obviously hopeful that it will. But I do know that any change I want to see must start with me. I voted, but more importantly, our family has chosen to serve, through teaching children, as Melia does heroically everyday, or through human rights campaigning which I find myself doing literally around the globe these days. We bring change by investing our time in our own children, exposing them to the realities of a harsh world as well as the possibilities that exist alongside those challenges. We bring change when we love our neighbors as ourselves, and when we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. This, I think could work in our neighborhoods, in our cities, and I dare say, it might work in foreign policy. Of course, this is my faulted idealism revealing itself. Trust me, after years of working in poverty and human rights, I’m just glad that idealism is still there. It's taken a real beating the last year or so.

This is not intended to be a political post, just some thoughts as our family watches an historic election from across the water. I hope you read it as such.

Blessing and Peace - Andrew

A Day in London with Tanner

Today was Tanner and my day to go out and be together. Every once and awhile, Andrew and I split the boys up so that he takes one and I take the other and we have a day with one of the boys. Today was mine and Tanner’s day. Konner stayed home with Andrew.

So at 10:00 am, Tanner and I set out for an outing into London. Chafford Hundred, where we live, is outside of London. We are in a small community in England but we have the access to the big city of London at our fingertips, if we have the time. There is a 30 minute train ride into the city and then from there are the underground tubes, Double Decker buses and/or walking. You cannot be in a hurry to get there or you will just be frustrated especially on the weekend. The trains and tubes do not run as often and sometimes there are delays due to railroad repairs. Tanner and I were relaxed, we had time and we only had 2 things on our agenda to see; a gallery and a museum. We made our plans simple so we could enjoy the day, be home by dinner and not be exhausted.

Recently, Andrew shared with us a story about a man who is from London who suffers from autism. His name is Stephen Wiltshire. When Steven was a child he was mute, but at age 7, someone uncovered his gift which unleashed his voice and his soul. He is considered a savant. He is the most amazing artist. He flew in a plane to get a good look at London for only 15 minutes, came down, and began drawing the panoramic view of London from a birds eye view. It took him 4 days to complete the mural size drawing. The picture astounded critiques when the detail of the buildings even had the correct number of windows on each building he drew. Breathtaking! Tanner was impressed with this story and could not quit talking about it. So on our day in London, Tanner and my first stop was the Steven Wiltshire Studio near Piccadilly Circus. I do believe, Tanner has a new favourite place in London now. We were inspired by Steven’s work and his accomplishments.

After leaving the studio, Tanner and I walked to Piccadilly Circus to visit Andrew and my favourite London museum that we visited on our honeymoon 17 years ago - which unfortunately has closed down. In its place was the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum (which our family had already been to in San Francisco). Of course Tanner insisted. So we went. It had a mirror maze that was truly eerie and haunting and could cause one to panic when one got so easily turned around and lost. We loved the bizarre and wacky objects but mostly we just enjoyed being together.

It was good to be with my twelve year old son. Tanner helped me to navigate the underground and train probably better than I could do on my own. I was glad that I had him with me.

We had lunch at McDonalds before getting on the train to come back home. I told Tanner, “I can’t believe we were in London all day and we did American stuff.” Ripley’s is an American museum and nothing is more American than McD’s. I still can’t believe I caved on lunch. Looking back though even McDonald’s is a cultural experience in London. The day was a huge success. Tanner and I had a fabulous day in London enjoying the transportation, the buildings, and the scenery but mostly it was great being with Tanner. He is such a great kid.

England Is Not A Vacation

I am sitting in the kitchen of Andrew’s cousin, Shameen. Shameen lives in this beautiful refurbished old castle with her husband Jim and their four children, Max, Tess, Nathan and Rowan. My boys are ecstatic. The house is perfect for playing hide-and-seek in the dark. When you think you have gotten to the end of the house, it keeps going. It is easy for all of us to be quietly enjoying our space in the house and not run into each other. Although, the kitchen can be the busiest and most popular area of the house.

Outside, the grass is green and the house is surrounded by a wood of trees and bushes and a little boy’s exploring heaven. It is often raining here and the cold goes straight to the bone. I wear my scarf and hat inside on occasions. Hot tea and hot chocolate are a must. The boys (all 3) and I have enjoyed sleeping in, leisurely morning breakfast and tea, and relaxing in our pjs until around noon. After a shower, we then slip outside to the car and go for a drive to breathe in the brisk air and let the Scottish scenery feed our souls. It feels like Colorado and it makes us miss it even more than before. The past 2 days, we had warmth and sunshine on our drive. A perfect backdrop to the magical scenery. This is exactly what I needed. I needed to get away and disappear in a novel without thinking about my job and the stresses in England. Sigh…Ahhhh….

Those of you who are jealous of someone who has moved to a different country need to look around at their own backyards and remember where you are and what you have. I love England as much as any. I have always been romanticized by the beauty, the royalty, the history, and the lush green rolling hills dotted with sheep and a steaming cup of tea with biscuits. This is the England I love and have visited often. The romanticized England is on vacation.

When we moved here, I was getting used to the language, the differences in how to ask or explain about something I needed. I was learning how to drive on the left side of the road. I was catching myself saying, “that is weird, or that is strange.” Until I caught myself being redundant and decided I should say, “that is different.” The other sounded cold and judgmental. I feel comfortable now going in to the stores to buy groceries or paying for gas. I have even compared prices with different stores and know which store I should go to get the items I am looking for. I have the routine down and feel comfortable navigating my way to soccer practice, games, and weekly agendas.

Life is routine, that is what it comes down to. I like the routine. It is dependable and mindless. But routine, and mindlessness is not vacationing. England is our place or residence right now and we do not drink in the scenery or live the life of a queen. My coworker, Kelley, said the other day, that we need to remember to stop and smell the roses – she had just given me a bouquet of flowers with 2 small red roses. It was good advice. I had forgot to smell the roses. I have been living the life of duty and obligation.

On the weekends, our family does our weekly chores of cleaning house, doing laundry, going to soccer practices and games, occasionally making it to church, and getting ourselves ready for the school/work week just in time to live out the week and then start it all over again. Maybe your family has this same routine. Ours is not different really we just happen to live in a different place.

This school year has stretched me more than I can remember. It is not the curriculum that I am teaching since it is quite similar to the one back home. It is not the kids really since kids are the same wherever you go. It is not the staff since there are good people to work with wherever you go. It is the planning for 30 kids with amazing expectations and fewer resources. But even then I cannot put my finger on it. I don’t know what it is really. I feel like I am under a microscope but no one has said if what I am doing is right or wrong or even in the ballpark. I just keep plugging along in hope of feedback and praise or even critique. I just wonder what people think. I have been more of a police officer than a teacher which has been disappointing since my heart is in teaching. I want to do a good job and so I keep on.

Outside of school, the boys and I are an American accent haven. We love each other and take all our frustrations out on the people closest and most important in our lives – each other. I guess the culture does play into our frustration and mostly the boys miss their friends. They hate being “the kid from America.” They just want to blend in and mess around with school friends that they have known since kindergarten. This loneliness would be the same if we had moved to Washington DC. It might be more acute here but then maybe not. We are enjoying the experiences that we have. We do not diminish the amazing opportunities that our children and we are experiencing. But we also miss home. It is not a vacation but we don’t feel like it is home either. So in some ways we are caught in between.

Nothing is harder on a mother than watching your children hurt, struggle, and cry. I’m trying to be tuned in to the difficulties that my children are facing and separate the anger from the sadness and the hurt from the joy. It is a strange place for our family to be. I do not regret the move but I know it is harder and more difficult than I would have imagined. Life is funny really. If we were back home, things would be changing as well. Nothing stays the same. I guess it is how you deal with the changes and how well you take the time to smell the roses. There are flowers in everyone’s life. You just have to stop, breathe it in and exhale.

Photo updates

So, we have succeeded in getting swamped with everyday life, so we haven't been posting a blog at all. We have a week off now, which we are spending in Creetown, Scotland. So we are updating our photos. Scroll down if you like to see what we've been up to over the last several weeks. We'll be uploading photos daily to catch up on life in the UK.

Cheers - the Syed's

British Football

As most know regarding us, we are a soccer family. Bored with baseball, not quite tall enough for basketball and not ready yet for football (the American kind)- we love soccer. So, our boys play and have for years. And today was a great day.

It rained all day, but they don't cancel games here for rain. Of course, if they did, there never would be any games. Konner played first at 11am, then Tanner at 2pm, so we were out in the sop all day long. Konner's team played a typical 0-0 draw. Tanner's game was much different. It mercifully ended after two extra-periods at 7-6. Unfortunately, Tanner's team lost, but that was not the story of his game.

The story was, well, Tanner. His team is relatively new and they have had a rough start of the season. To be honest, the team is not very good. And as the 'American' kid, Tanner hasn't gotten any breaks. But today he decided that he would go out and play as hard as possible, no matter what the outcome. I had told him before the game to just be himself, lead by example, and play determined. In the rain, that is what he did.

He was everywhere on that field. While his team jogged, he sprinted. He didn't score, but was responsible directly for three goals that he set other teammates up on. He covered the best player on the other team. He dribbled and passed through walls and ran and worked as hard as I've ever seen him. In short, what he did was earn the respect of his teammates, the other team, his coach, and most every parent on the sideline. Even though the result was not a win, Tanner had won respect as a kid who can play. In fact, several parents told Melia and I that the wished every player played like Tanner - they'd do a lot better. T came off the field smiling, because he knew what he had done.

The day needs a bit of context. When Tanner first arrived here in the UK, he tried out for a different team and was cut after 3 weeks because he "wasn't good enough." Truth is, he hadn't been given a fair shot. This obviously shook his confidence and added to his frustration of being the 'new' kid, but he still wanted to play. So we found another club for him to try out for and they reluctantly took him in. It was a rough introduction to the insanity that is British football, but I think he's earned his spot now.

What Tanner did today was more about life than soccer. He learned that respect is something you earn, and that there is generally no substitute for hustle and hard work. He also learned something about leadership. Tanner has at times been the class-clown (or team-clown) in the past, but now he is on a team of players who need a leader. After today, they are talking of making T captain, and in British football, that is a big deal.

I know I'm a proud dad, but I'm proud of being a proud dad.

It's 7:30 at night, and he is already asleep. It was that kind of day.

-Andrew

Life Must Be Normal Because.....

...we're busy. School. Soccer. Work. I'm traveling. Melia has parent-teacher conferences. Trying to fit it all in. Needing to be in eight places at one time. The banks are crashing. It seems that life in the UK might not be that much different than the US. Outside of the fact that our surroundings are different, everything else seems to be settling in to the random chaotic normalcy that defined our lives in Colorado. Strange that this is good news.

We're developing a troubling evening ritual in our house. After we're all home, dinner has been eaten in stages and we have half an hour to exhale - we crash in the living room and watch The Simpsons. We've never really watched The Simpsons before, but for some reason there we are, each evening - watching, laughing, cringing... Maybe it's because it is such a uniquely American show in a sea of uniquely bad British TV. Don't know. In fact, I don't know why I'm writing about it.

There are other normal things going on. We don't have time to get the laundry done. Dishes get stacked up. Kids hate chores. Melia still has the hardest job(s) in the world (mom, wife, teacher). And I'm traveling. In fact, I've been to Kenya, am headed to Brazil, will be in NY and then Romania, all in 6 weeks. I love to travel, but even this spins me around a bit.

Anyways, there is a bit of happiness in our house. Both boys have found some friends, which after the last two posts is promising. They still have that issue that everyone in school hates - no one to sit with at lunch - but they do have some emerging relationships.

In a few weeks, school will be out for a week (fall break) and we'll take a week off to go explore. I don't know where we'll go. We've talked about Germany, or Scotland, or maybe Spain to see the sun. The boys keep suggesting Colorado.

- Andrew

The World at 12

Our boys are beginning now their second full-week of school. Konner has had a better week, even daring to invite a new friend over for a play-date. Nathan came over on Saturday for a few hours and he and Konner seemed to have a good time. In fact, tonight, Konner has been invited over for dinner. I hope he eats!

Tanner had a rough week. Apparently, bullies are not only an American phenomenon. A couple of boys decided to make Tanner the object of their cowardice, taunting him most of the week, and effectively making sure that anyone who tried to hang out with Tanner felt their wrath as well. I was in Kenya when Melia called me about a particularly rough day Tanner had. He spent the night in tears, frustrated, angry, and very homesick. But like his younger brother, he courageously got up the next day and went back to school – enduring even more ridiculous taunts from foolish boys.

As I lay in my hotel room in Nairobi, all I wanted to do was corner these two boys myself and teach them the lessons all bullies need to learn. It might not be very politically correct, nor very “christian”, but we’ve always taught both our boys to not accept the bullying that life brings. Sometimes there are times to push back a bit, and that’s what I felt like doing in that moment. Problem was, I couldn’t. I was on another continent. This was Tanner’s fight to wage.

The taunting continued, and Tanner’s inner rage deepened. This is where things become a bit dangerous, because there are limits to patience. Melia and I know that Tanner, being a predominantly fun-loving, social kid, has his limits and he tends to erupt – even if only for a moment. We did not want things to get to that point. So Tanner maturely asked his mom to come to the school with him and help him tell the principal about what had been happening. That’s what they did the very next day, and not by coincidence, there were no bullies to be found the next three days. They had been dealt with, appropriately.

It is an unwritten boy rule that you don’t tattle on others, but in this case, Tanner did the right thing. An apology letter came from the two boys and things seem to be moving in the right direction now. Tanner continues to be himself, which is all I ask of him. As parents, we continue to painfully watch our two boys navigate some of the cruel nuances of real life. I must say, they are passing each test with flying colors.

If Tanner’s school problems were not enough to deal with, he found out that the soccer team he initially made was too full, so they cut him. So we made the effort of finding another team for him to get in on, which luckily we did. He’s had two games so far and is doing well, but school and soccer aren’t the issues. Finding routine, building friendships and gaining a bit of comfort are what’s needed for our boys. Each day it feels like we get just a step closer.

I am so proud of these two boys. I don’t know what else to say. As parents, we can’t protect them from reality, only help them navigate it. I don’t know if we do a good job. Often times in this move, I’ve felt guilty for uprooting them from their life in Colorado. But they have continued to be brave boys, navigating change and the strange cruelties of life with courage.

For those of you who emailed Konner – thank you. He speaks of it often. If you want to email Tanner, his email is tannerdrew@gmail.com.

The World at 8

For those of you with more than one child, you know that you don't really have favorites. Somehow you are give capacity to love each one fully and completely. It can't be explained - it just is reality. Yet, there are times it seems when your heart really goes out to one of your kids because you recognize that he might be having a particularly difficult go of things. Such is the case this week with our youngest - Konner.

For those of you who know Konner, you know he is a great kid. He has a unique personality that endears people to him. He is not outspoken, generally. Most consider him shy, but he really can be talkative. He is slow to allow people into his 'circle of friends' as we call it, but if you are in, you are in. Loyalty is and will be a strength of his. Right now, though, it is causing him difficulty in connecting with new people in his life.

Konner started school this week. He bravely woke up early Tuesday morning, put on his school uniform and got ready to go. I took him up to his new class and he bravely walked in, sat down, and began his day. I, of course, couldn't stay, but I knew it would be a hard day and week for him. Konner misses his friends in Colorado - and he hasn't figured out just yet that he can make new friends while still honoring the friendships he has forged over his 8 years.

Konner's circle of friends in Colorado is tight, and they are loyal to each other. Melia and I have commented several times about the unique group that Konner has run with. Ely, Tristan and Emilio, Marcos and others have been Konner's loyal friends not just for one school year as is often the case in elementary school, but since he started Pioneer elementary school in Lafayette. He misses them fiercely and is reluctant to move forward. It's hard as a parent, because we know all too well the struggle of being a little kid in a new environment. In Britian, it might be particularly hard, because even though it is a new school year, they choose to keep classes together here throughout their primary years. So, the class that Konner has joined has been together since what we consider preschool. That's a challenge for the new American kid.

Moving is hard. Especially on kids. As much as we have tried to make this move smooth for our boys, the hard work still remains. A new school. New faces and names to learn. New risks to take. Ultimately, it is a good thing that will make us all stronger, but the effort remains. Forgive me, but I'd rather my 8 year old not have to make that effort just yet.

I was laying in bed with Konner the other night and asked him what he wanted to do this weekend for fun. Last weekend we went to Stonehenge. The beach, maybe this weekend? A castle or some old fort from hundreds of years ago? No - he wanted only to go to Colorado.

He is a brave young boy. Every day he has gotten up without complaint, put on that uniform, and headed off to school to meet the challenges head on. I am so proud of him. I wish I could make it easier for him, but mostly what I can do is honor his courage, acknowledge the struggle, and love him for who he is. Not a shy kid, but a great kid who will bless someone here with a great friendship.

I'm glad I'm in his inner circle - it's not easy to get into.

In my work, I come across the stories of other 8 year old boys in the world who face much greater fears. Child soldiers, traffikking, slavery - they're all out there in this ugly world. But right now, my heart is for Konner, who faces everyday the real fear of being foreign in a new place. Sometimes, life is an adventure. Other times, you just want to be home.

If you read this, say a prayer for Konner, who we affectionately call 'Kon'. He'd appreciate it, and so would I. If you want to drop him a line, his email is konnerdaniel@gmail.com. If your name happens to be Ely, Tristan, Emilio, Noah, Marcos, CJ, or any other 3rd grader at Pioneer Elementary School, I know he would love to hear from you.

-Konner's dad

On a different note - some of you have inquired about photos. I promise, they are coming soon.

Laundry

“Mom, why is the dryer in the dining room?”

“That is a good question, Konner.”

I have not seen a house yet that does not have the washing machine in the kitchen. I’m sure there are some but I haven’t seen them yet. Our washing machine sits right next to the dishwasher, which by the way we are lucky to have both a washer and a dishwasher.

All the European washing machines that I have seen in the stores are front loaders. They are more economic and use much less water and…fit next to the dishwasher in the kitchen.

Doing laundry takes twice as much time because you can only get half the load. The average washer is so small. It will do about 3 pairs of jeans, one towel and maybe a few shirts and some underwear with socks. That would be quite a load actually.

The washing machine has different setting just like ours but some of the settings last 90 minutes. So I mostly choose the fast, daily use setting that only takes 30 minutes.

After washing the clothes, it is time to put the clothes in the dryer. We are very fortunate to have a dryer. Many people do not have dryers. They have these accordion folding racks to pull out and hang clothes on. One guy I talked to described his dryer as more like a wringing machine. The spinning would pull the water out of the clothes and leave it at the bottom in the removable tray. After it has spun a while, you empty the tray of water, put the tray back and then keep it spinning. It does not really dry the clothes but it pulls or wrings the water out.

We are lucky. We have a modern dryer that really dries. But the dryer holds less than the washer really…if you want things to dry completely. Jeans are almost impossible. I dry the jeans for about 20-30 minutes and then I hang them on the accordion folding rack to dry the rest of the way. If I don’t pull the jeans out early, they will be so wrinkled and not completely dried either. Cotton shirts take awhile as well. Sometimes, I will dry the clothes for 30 minutes and then take out the items that are completely dried. This will lighten the load and I can give the cotton shirts another 30 minutes.

I have been here for over a month and I am starting to figure out how to wash and clothes more successfully. The biggest mistake is putting too many clothes in the washer and making the loads too full. Once I started making smaller loads, laundry actually got done quicker. This is because of the drying process. Plus the clothes are not as wrinkled this way.

The other problem is that there is no long tube running from the dryer to go outside. So the hot humid air that would normally travel outside when you dry your clothes. Instead the air is right there in the dinning room. So we have learned that you must keep the window open while doing laundry. At first, I would shut the dining room door so the humidity would not seep into the rest of the house but the window was not giving the air enough relief. So papers sitting on the table would be a bit soggy or warped from the humid room. It would be great if you wanted to have a sauna.

Yes, the dryer is in the dining room. It is so small and light; I can pick it up and take it upstairs to the bedroom if I wanted. That is where it started. But there was little space for it there. I’m thinking of putting a tablecloth over it to make it look like a serving table in the dining room.

I’m learning the tricks to get through the laundry process. But for the most part, I think we are the lucky ones here. It could be worse. We could have no dryer or the wringer dryer. So I am thankful for what we have.

Now, I am all the more thoughtful about throwing that one day, half worn shirt into the dirty laundry hamper. I think I could wear it one more time. I don’t think it is that dirty after all. I wonder if I can teach my boys to do the same.

How Long Does Foreign Feel Foreign?

When does foreign, strange, and chaos feel like home, familiarity and orderly? I consciously noticed the other day while I was driving that I knew where I was going and did not have to think and concentrate quite so hard. When I crossed the street, I knew which direction to look and it I recognized the pattern of the traffic and why I should look this way or that. I know where to find the bread and milk at the grocery store and I didn’t get lost on my way to church (well I turned around once). Things around me are feeling familiar. I am beginning to be part of this community. I have lived in this place just over a month and our belongings have been here just over one week. School will start in one week and the routine of life and work will begin.

I like it here. There is beauty here. There is a Gorge that takes my breath away on an early morning run. The lake glistens when the morning sun reflects on the surface. And a huge gliding bird sweeps across the lake to find its breakfast. There is green everywhere. Bushes, shrubs, wild flowers and trees are along every walk way. It is a different kind of beauty than we shared in Colorado but still a glimpse of the hand of God in nature.

It did not rain today… yet. The sun is breathing life into my spirit and my bones. I think it will be a good day.
-Melia

NHS (stands for National Health Service)

It is Sunday evening. What a long day. This morning we started the day by taking the train into London. The boys and I were excited. We don’t make the commute into London everyday like Andrew does. Andrew slept on the train. He was not so excited about making the connections on the tubes and then looking for the football (soccer) field to meet his colleagues. He committed to playing on the Amnesty International football team. Today was a tournament set up for different non-profit organizations to play against each other in soccer.

The four of us got to the field in time for Andrew to change into the Amnesty uniform. Because Andrew would be playing many games possibly, the boys and I were prepared to go exploring between games to see some sights while in the big city. We waited for the team to show up first and to watch the first game. The games were quick and played on short fields. We watched the first two teams play to get a sense of the new rules and the change of pace.

The game was over and it was now time for Andrew’s team to play. Andrew was in position. The ball went up the field and back again. Andrew was running well but the ball was still on the opposite field. The ball came to Andrew and he made his first touch on the ball. The touch was not as good as liked so he pushed forward to make another attack on the ball. I took a picture right at this moment. His first touch. The next thing I knew after the click of the camera, Andrew was on the ground. I wondered what could have happened. No one was there. No one could have hit him. He lay on the ground grabbing his leg. Then he was on his back and holding his head. I was so confused. Where did the hit come from? There were a group of teammates surrounding him and then helping him off the field. It was a terrible tragedy.

As soon as I came over to him, he blurted out, “I ruptured my Achilles tendon.”

Now Andrew would know this because he had done it before only it was the other heel and it was 4 years ago. It was deja vu. Last time on a basketball court this time on the soccer field. Unfortunaltely we all knew what this meant. All 4 of us knew. We know what this means. A caste, surgery, another cast, 6 weeks of crutches and then rehab and 6 more weeks of rehab and partial caste. 6 months of no running or sports. A year before complete and full recovery. For Andrew, misery. For the boys and I, hovering and taking on extra chores.

Just like that, one moment and pop. He’s out.

It was a bit surreal and we were a bit dumbfounded.

There were questions and thinking. And who knows where a hospital is? and where do we go? and how do you use the medical system? and how do we get home?

We called a taxi to pick us up and take us back to the train station. We thought it was best to go back home and regroup. We knew some friends in the church would know where to go. We took the train back home and made some calls. Tanner dug out the crutches that we happened to bring in the container shipped over. Thankfully our friends were home and knew where to send us. The boys were thrilled to stay with their new friends instead of spending the rest of their day and night at a hospital. I drove Andrew to the hospital while he navigated.

When we got to the hospital we were sent down a long corridor to another room to check in to be seen by a nurse and have our first evaluation. We realized that hospitals are the same everywhere…no one wants to be there. Things are sterile and uncarpeted. There are many sitting areas, televisions, and vending machines. We waited 2 and half hours to be seen for 4 minutes. The nurse agreed with Andrew’s diagnosis that he did have a ruptured Achilles tendon and then sent him to another area of the hospital to get on a list and be seen by a different nurse and then hopefully seen by an orthopedic doctor.

The wait this time was more reasonable but still after an hour we were sore from sitting. We were starting to pace the floor when Andrew was called back to be seen again. This new nurse did the same thing and agreed with Andrew’s diagnosis and agreed that he should be seen by the doctor and would need a caste.

Another half hour wait, Andrew went back with the doctor. This time a doctor gave his advice that was the same as Andrew’s. They scheduled surgery for Wednesday. They gave him a full leg caste, took an X-ray, and sent us home. After 4 and half hours of waiting, we were in the car and heading back to pick up the kids.

Honestly, this was not much more time than what we would have waited in the states. But the good thing, is that this was free. We will not be billed for the surgery or the caste or the X-ray or the diagnosis. Andrew’s colleagues suggested calling an ambulance to come pick him up from the field and take him to the hospital. We were quick to refuse. We know what ambulance means in the states….$$$$$. But even if we had taken the ambulance, it would no have cost us a thing.

I kept saying how weird that medical attention was free. Then Andrew said, “Maybe our country is weird in this situation.”

Hmmmm. Maybe it is strange that in the US, you have to pay to see a doctor or get emergency attention. Maybe the US is the weird one. I did not expect to see the inside of a hospital so soon. But every one was nice and took great care in helping Andrew.

Crutches here we come.

-Melia

Stuff

Our stuff comes tomorrow. That's all I have to say. We're all very excited.

20 years....

It's 2008. I just turned 38. I remember turning 28. It meant I was closer to 30 than 25. That's why that was significant. I won't tell you what I am closer to now. I don't want to say it out loud.

It was 20 years ago that I graduated high-school. The only reason I remembered this is because a week ago I tripped over a web-site solely dedicated to the 20 year class reunion of Eisenhower High School, class of 1988. Apparently, I was on their "missing" list. Having run away from Lawton, Oklahoma all those years ago, I was quite proud to be on that list. When I graduated, all I wanted was escape - and escape I did. I think I've been back once in 20 years.

That being said, this time I was intrigued. Maybe it was time to not be "missing" any longer. So I signed up. I began to look for a few classmates and see if I could catch up.

In high school, I was a not-so-fast runner on a very fast track team. One of my friends actually went on to win a gold medal in the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. With the Olympics going on now, I was thinking of him, and sure enough, he had signed up on the site as well. I dropped him an email and hoped somehow we could reconnect. I heard from him today, and I have to say I couldn't be happier.

It's a long way from Lawton to London, in more ways than just geography. I was a scared and lonely and insecure kid from a rough town. I often wonder if I'm still that same scared, lonely, insecure kid trying to survive and change a rough world. 20 years seems like enough time to evaluate, to take stock, to come to terms with what I've become, what I've done, what I've not done, and most importantly, who I am and will be.

What I seem to recognize most about where I find myself in life is the fact that I have the most amazing family. Melia. What can I say about her? My boys, Tanner & Konner are everything. These three are my gold medal, if you will. This family represents everything that can be represented in the long journey from Lawton to London.

This move overseas has been difficult for me. Stepping down from the organization I scratched out to start and moving from Colorado has been harder than I imagined. But I've made a decision that our time here in England will be about family. We honestly don't know if we'll be here forever, or something else, but we've decided to reclaim the most important part of our lives. Tanner is 12. We have 6 more years with him at home. Konner is 8, and not getting younger. This time is short, and we are going to be selfish with it. We miss our friends, but so far we're having a good time together.

I don't know why hearing a voice from the distant past brought these feelings to the surface, but they have. 20 years. I've failed a lot during that time. But my wife and kids love me, and I'm learning to live satisfied with that success.

Rain

It's raining out. Hard. Colorado doesn't get these kinds of rains, except in the high altitudes when your camping. Thunder. Distant lightening. Our boys are in their beds, looking out of the windows at unfamiliar weather. Not often do Colorado kids go to sleep with the sound of thunder and rain outside their windows.

Everything here is different. TV is different. Food and currency and words and cars and rain. It rains here. Different is not all bad. But it is different. Watching my two boys navigate this change is both fascinating and frustrating all at once. As a dad, I want to negate the differences and make it home for them as soon as possible. I want to ease their sense of distance from familiar things. But I can't. They have to navigate the change for themselves.

Yesterday, I had a meeting at the Institute of Development Studies in Brighton. Brighton is on the coast, so I took the family, dropped them off at the beach, went to my meeting, then met them all again later in the day. It was great to watch the boys play in the water, jump the waves, body surf. This was no California coast, but there they were, two boys swimming in the English Channel. Melia and I watched them play and I think for a moment realized that they'd be ok. They'd learn to be kids in this new place. We'd find our places to play.

Of course, on the drive home, they both wanted to know when and where we could go skiing.

Sometime next week, our household goods will finally arrive. I'm sure I'll have deep thoughts about the meaninglessness of stuff, but right now all I want - all we want - is our familiar stuff. Our big couch. Our square bookcase. What we are really looking for is familiarity. Some of that arrives in a shipping container, someday next week.

As for now, it's still raining out.

- Andrew

Ox Tongue ---- yes, that's right

Konner and I had found samples to try at the grocery store a few days earlier just like you would find at Sam’s. We went by the deli twice to snag the olive dish. It was delicious. We tried different cheeses that we had not tried before.

On this particular day, there were more samples. Konner pointed them out to me and from his height he had eyed them and reminded me of our recent treasures from the Sainsbury. There were 2 different kinds of meat with cute little toothpicks sticking out of each small chunk. I handed one to Konner and took one for myself. Tanner took his own. One looked like a large hotdog. I didn’t try the hotdog looking thing but the boys did. They didn’t like it. The other piece of meat looked like a piece of pastrami. I put the whole thing in my mouth before looking at the little sign that tells you what you are eating…Ox Tongue…it read. I never told the boys but I swallowed quickly and tried to keep it down without throwing up. I was nauseated most of the day after that.

I did tell the boys later after we came home. Tanner never tried the Ox Tongue and he constantly reminds of our tasting adventure. He especially start laughing and reminding us during meal times.

Today I went for a run. I have run the past 3 days in a row. My first day out I was afraid to go far in fear of not finding my way back. Each day I have gotten a little bit more brave and have ventured out past my initial comfort zone. Today I ran with a map in my hand just in case I got lost. It gave me the confidence to go farther than I had before. I found a fabulous place to run. There are so many trails to take that connect to every neighborhood in this community. It is amazing. It is actually easier to get to places through the walking/biking trails then it is to drive.

There is an old quarry that used to mine chalk that was used for making cement. Now it is reserved as a nature area to have picnics, go for walks, ride bikes or observe wildlife. As I jogged through the underbrush, next to the random lakes (more like ponds) and crossed the valley to the other side of the gorge, I could not believe I was in a city. It was so isolated from manmade buildings. It was a beautiful way to start the day.

I took the boys back to that spot later in the day. We must have passed 20 minutes just watching a swan dive its head in the water to find food while it’s little babies swam around hunting for food as well. It was serene.

There are hidden jewels in this place called Chafford Hundred. I like it.

- Melia