I’ve written before about my daily bike commute, but I thought I’d write again. I no longer get to ride in and out of Central London due to the fact that the house we rent is about 25 miles out. I could ride, but it is mostly highway and not a very pleasant ride. That being said, today I got up early and took my bike in on the train because I needed to run some errands around London. And bike is the only way to go.
At 7am this morning, I found myself riding down mostly empty London streets, past Hyde Park corner (where the soap box is), right by Buckingham Palace down the long road towards Trafalgar Square, then up to Piccadilly Circus and through Covent Garden on my way to work. It was a surreal ride, past all these great London sites just before the morning rush. I wish I could have taken it all in, but I was too pissed off at the Passport office to enjoy anything (that’s another story).
It is great to finally have Melia and the boys here. We are getting to know our community a bit, where the stores are, the parks and trails and certain hide-a-ways that every community has. We bought a car the other day – a Honda Accord – because with kids who want to play sports, we still need a car. The previous owner had put a total of 2000 miles on it the year before. He couldn’t believe me when I told him that last year I probably drove 15,000 miles. Anyways, our car gives us the freedom to take off on the weekends. I’ll be buying a ski rack for it soon so we can drive to Switzerland this winter. Yes, I brought my skis to England.
Despite our adventures – we miss home. I think we find ourselves still looking in the rear-view mirror a bit, hoping to see the Front Range. I’ve been here, albeit on and off, for almost 5 months now and I am feeling it more than Melia and the boys. I really miss the familiarity of what we know. I’ve traveled enough and understand enough about culture shock to know what I’m going through, but the bottom line is that I crave any communication I can get from our friends and family in Colorado and the USA. Every email or comment is like gold.
The problem with moving is the reality not only of starting a new chapter of life somewhere else, but realizing that the chapters of other peoples lives continue on without you. That is a difficult reality. I find myself wanting to turn back the pages.
That being said, I did for a second this morning appreciate this adventure. I’ve had some great moments in life on my bike. I was riding one year in Yosemite National Park when two bears crossed my path, just 25 yards in front of me. That was an epic moment. I’ve ridden along the Pacific Coast highway and I’ve ridden right into a herd of deer coming around a bend at Walker ranch in Colorado. Did I mention that this morning I rode my bike on an almost empty round-a-bout directly in front of Buckingham Palace? That is not a bad moment in life.
About Us
- Andrew Syed
- Humanitarian worker / Human Rights activist / Campaigner / Researcher / Member-at-large of humanity / Citizen of the world
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Driving in England
Today, I did it on my own…
The boys and I needed to go to the grocery store which is walking distance but farther than the Tesco (little convenient-like store just 5 minutes away.) We wanted to go to Sainsbury (a large grocery store chain like King Soopers or Safeway) which is a 15 minute walk. I discovered a short cut today during a run but the boys were not excited about my new discovery and were not up for walking. So they coaxed me into driving the new used blue Honda Accord fully automatic car that we just bought yesterday. I did go for a spin the night before with Andrew in the passenger side giving me advice at every round-a-bout.
But now I was on my own. Tanner sat up front to give me a warning when I was too close to the curb. It is so strange having the steering wheel on the other side of the car. Mostly, the scary part is trying not to get lost. I knew where the store was located. I assumed there was more than one entrance to the store parking lot. But as I quickly discovered, there is only one way in and one way out and I had missed it.
The good thing about roundabouts is that they allow you to change directions 180 degrees without having to make a U-turn. So that became helpful at the next roundabout which was just up away. Roundabouts are everywhere so there is no problem finding one to make that U-turn.
Tanner was a good help and navigator. He coached me from running into the side of the curb which I had done the night before when I was driving with Andrew. Shortly after my rub on the curb we could smell the burned rubber from the tires. Tanner also helped me with the confidence to keep trying.
I know driving is a mental game that I will need to get over. I felt so proud of my accomplishment today by driving less than a mile to Sainsbury, parking and coming home on the left side of the road all by myself (with the help of Tanner). But quite honestly half of my fear of driving is just trying to keep from getting lost. I wanted to shop at a different store after our checking out at the grocery store but I gave up and went home when I realized that I could see the store from our house almost but I had not idea how to get there. There is no direct way to anything. After one wrong turn, I quickly gave up and went back home.
Walking can seem easier at times.
The boys and I needed to go to the grocery store which is walking distance but farther than the Tesco (little convenient-like store just 5 minutes away.) We wanted to go to Sainsbury (a large grocery store chain like King Soopers or Safeway) which is a 15 minute walk. I discovered a short cut today during a run but the boys were not excited about my new discovery and were not up for walking. So they coaxed me into driving the new used blue Honda Accord fully automatic car that we just bought yesterday. I did go for a spin the night before with Andrew in the passenger side giving me advice at every round-a-bout.
But now I was on my own. Tanner sat up front to give me a warning when I was too close to the curb. It is so strange having the steering wheel on the other side of the car. Mostly, the scary part is trying not to get lost. I knew where the store was located. I assumed there was more than one entrance to the store parking lot. But as I quickly discovered, there is only one way in and one way out and I had missed it.
The good thing about roundabouts is that they allow you to change directions 180 degrees without having to make a U-turn. So that became helpful at the next roundabout which was just up away. Roundabouts are everywhere so there is no problem finding one to make that U-turn.
Tanner was a good help and navigator. He coached me from running into the side of the curb which I had done the night before when I was driving with Andrew. Shortly after my rub on the curb we could smell the burned rubber from the tires. Tanner also helped me with the confidence to keep trying.
I know driving is a mental game that I will need to get over. I felt so proud of my accomplishment today by driving less than a mile to Sainsbury, parking and coming home on the left side of the road all by myself (with the help of Tanner). But quite honestly half of my fear of driving is just trying to keep from getting lost. I wanted to shop at a different store after our checking out at the grocery store but I gave up and went home when I realized that I could see the store from our house almost but I had not idea how to get there. There is no direct way to anything. After one wrong turn, I quickly gave up and went back home.
Walking can seem easier at times.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Different, but not really....
It is hard to believe that we have been here just over one week. Sometimes I feel like we are just vacationing and visiting a new town and other times I am consciously thinking that this is our new home and this is our new grocery store and I need to remember where things are. I hate that feeling of learning a new grocery store and learning where everything is especially when you don’t even know what items transfer.
Tanner and I picked up what looked like hamburger meat for tacos but then looked again and realized we had put minced lamb in our shopping cart. Tanner said there is no way he will eat a sheep. So we put it back and found minced beef instead.
I found a pre-made mix for pancakes. It seemed the same as our pancake mixes at home. You just add egg and water, fry in a pan and there you go. I have since learned that pancakes taste more like Yorkshire pudding. I had tasted Yorkshire pudding over 10 years ago at Andrew’s grandmother’s home. They are delicious but they have a distinct taste. Yorkshire pudding is very good as a side dish with beef and vegetables but not what I was looking for in pancakes. I had to ask one of the sales clerks where the syrup was in the store. I had looked in the breakfast isle and other places that seemed reasonable. The lady led me to the baking isle where the flour was sitting on the shelf. It was a good thing that she was there to point it out because I was looking right at it and did not recognize it. When I think of syrup, I think of a large tall clear plastic container so you can see the dark color of maple in the bottle. This was a small can the size of a can of green beans only a little fatter and shorter. The lid was just like a paint can that has to be pried off with a screwdriver and hammered back on when finished. I took the small can and wondered what the syrup looked like since the container was opaque. The syrup was golden (not brown but almost yellow) so thick and viscous that it sat in a blob on our plates for a few seconds before it changed its shape, similar to how toothpaste or silly putty might run on a plate. The syrup was so rich and thick that it only took a few drops to consume the pancakes. The boys tasted, gasped and almost spit it out. It was not the best baking experience so far; maybe because we have such high expectations with our Bisquick pancake mix and our Aunt Jamima Maple Syrup. I’ll have to work on this one.
Sometimes I feel like I am in just another American city. The mall has some of the same advertisements at least for movies I have watched. Some of the names of the stores are the same and of course there is Starbucks. Even in the stores I don’t know there are products that I know and have heard. But then all of a sudden I hear someone speak with their thick British accent and I realize that we are living in a different country. I usually understand what most people are saying but sometimes I get confused.
Tanner was invited to go to a camp with the church youth group. I was reading the list of things that he should bring. First I took a mental note when I read sun cream. We would say sunscreen but it made since - sun cream. So I thought to myself, “when someone says sun cream now I will know what they mean.” I was feeling proud of myself. The next thing on the list said, “you can bring willies if you like.” I had not heard of willies but seeing that it was listed right after sun cream, I assumed it meant swimming suit. It seemed like a good deduction.
Later that day we were visiting with a family we had met at the church. We were talking about how much it rains in England. We were commenting on the perfect sunny day and the beauty of summer. I admitted that we may not have the kind of clothes necessary for England – like boots. She said, “Don’t you have wiliies?” I must have given myself away with my furrowed brows and questioning look. “You know boots that come up to your knees for the rain? Willies? What would you call them? Galoshes?” I started laughing. “Willies? I thought that meant swimming suit. I just read that word today.” When I explained why I thought it meant swimming suit, they laughed too.
The other day I was setting up a bank account. The lady explained a few things but I wanted to clarify. I said, “ So you are saying that the card will come to me in the mail.” She said, “Yes, it will come in the post.” I realized she had corrected me without saying it in the same way that you might correct a three year old that says something wrong. You would just repeat the statement to the three year old using the proper way of saying it. “Mental note to self: They say post not mail.”
The differences are there but for the most part we are all the same. It is true wherever I go. People are people. I can see that this will be an opportunity for our family to love someone new, to cry and laugh with new friends. It will be a time to live life with new friends we have not even met. Yet all the time, we remember and think about our old friends who are not old but just have longer history with the Syed, Paquin, Earhart family. The funny thing is that these new friends will only know the Syed’s while others in our history more easily call us Paquin’s while my family may still think of me as an Earhart. Yet we are still just us – Andrew, Melia, Tanner and Konner
Tanner and I picked up what looked like hamburger meat for tacos but then looked again and realized we had put minced lamb in our shopping cart. Tanner said there is no way he will eat a sheep. So we put it back and found minced beef instead.
I found a pre-made mix for pancakes. It seemed the same as our pancake mixes at home. You just add egg and water, fry in a pan and there you go. I have since learned that pancakes taste more like Yorkshire pudding. I had tasted Yorkshire pudding over 10 years ago at Andrew’s grandmother’s home. They are delicious but they have a distinct taste. Yorkshire pudding is very good as a side dish with beef and vegetables but not what I was looking for in pancakes. I had to ask one of the sales clerks where the syrup was in the store. I had looked in the breakfast isle and other places that seemed reasonable. The lady led me to the baking isle where the flour was sitting on the shelf. It was a good thing that she was there to point it out because I was looking right at it and did not recognize it. When I think of syrup, I think of a large tall clear plastic container so you can see the dark color of maple in the bottle. This was a small can the size of a can of green beans only a little fatter and shorter. The lid was just like a paint can that has to be pried off with a screwdriver and hammered back on when finished. I took the small can and wondered what the syrup looked like since the container was opaque. The syrup was golden (not brown but almost yellow) so thick and viscous that it sat in a blob on our plates for a few seconds before it changed its shape, similar to how toothpaste or silly putty might run on a plate. The syrup was so rich and thick that it only took a few drops to consume the pancakes. The boys tasted, gasped and almost spit it out. It was not the best baking experience so far; maybe because we have such high expectations with our Bisquick pancake mix and our Aunt Jamima Maple Syrup. I’ll have to work on this one.
Sometimes I feel like I am in just another American city. The mall has some of the same advertisements at least for movies I have watched. Some of the names of the stores are the same and of course there is Starbucks. Even in the stores I don’t know there are products that I know and have heard. But then all of a sudden I hear someone speak with their thick British accent and I realize that we are living in a different country. I usually understand what most people are saying but sometimes I get confused.
Tanner was invited to go to a camp with the church youth group. I was reading the list of things that he should bring. First I took a mental note when I read sun cream. We would say sunscreen but it made since - sun cream. So I thought to myself, “when someone says sun cream now I will know what they mean.” I was feeling proud of myself. The next thing on the list said, “you can bring willies if you like.” I had not heard of willies but seeing that it was listed right after sun cream, I assumed it meant swimming suit. It seemed like a good deduction.
Later that day we were visiting with a family we had met at the church. We were talking about how much it rains in England. We were commenting on the perfect sunny day and the beauty of summer. I admitted that we may not have the kind of clothes necessary for England – like boots. She said, “Don’t you have wiliies?” I must have given myself away with my furrowed brows and questioning look. “You know boots that come up to your knees for the rain? Willies? What would you call them? Galoshes?” I started laughing. “Willies? I thought that meant swimming suit. I just read that word today.” When I explained why I thought it meant swimming suit, they laughed too.
The other day I was setting up a bank account. The lady explained a few things but I wanted to clarify. I said, “ So you are saying that the card will come to me in the mail.” She said, “Yes, it will come in the post.” I realized she had corrected me without saying it in the same way that you might correct a three year old that says something wrong. You would just repeat the statement to the three year old using the proper way of saying it. “Mental note to self: They say post not mail.”
The differences are there but for the most part we are all the same. It is true wherever I go. People are people. I can see that this will be an opportunity for our family to love someone new, to cry and laugh with new friends. It will be a time to live life with new friends we have not even met. Yet all the time, we remember and think about our old friends who are not old but just have longer history with the Syed, Paquin, Earhart family. The funny thing is that these new friends will only know the Syed’s while others in our history more easily call us Paquin’s while my family may still think of me as an Earhart. Yet we are still just us – Andrew, Melia, Tanner and Konner
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Art of Things Falling Into Place
There is nothing worse than not being in control. And in life, we are never in control. Consider the path of the past few months in our family. When I accepted this new job in London, it sort of lined up a host of things that needed to happen - most or all of which were completely out of our control. Here is a list, in order of how I think of them:
- Our house needed to sell, or get rented out
- We needed to sell our vehicles
- Melia needed to get a job in London
- Melia needed to be able to complete her final class of her MA from the UK
- We needed to get a house here in the UK
- We needed to get the boys enrolled in a new school here
- We needed a plan of what to do with our household goods
The major things, of course, centered around Melia finding a job and our house in Lafayette being taken care of in some manner. So, here is an update:
- We have tenants for our house in Lafayette (thanks to Craigslist). They move in July 1, and have signed a 2 year lease. Yep.
- Melia's final class of her MA is probably the only class that is flexible enough to be done from distance, and her professor has agreed.
- My beloved Xterra sold, literally one day before I was to get on a plane to come to London last time. It sucked, but it had to be done.
- Amnesty Int'l agreed to pay for a container to ship our household goods here to London, and ship them back if and when we move back in the future.
- And...., after a major disappointment, MELIA GOT A TEACHING JOB HERE! Just three days ago, I had decided to look for a house without knowing where Melia would be teaching. I spent the entire weekend driving all over SE England looking at houses. This Saturday, I was just going to take the plunge. On Tuesday, Melia got a call that an interview had been set up. On Wednesday she was interviewed via phone (she is in Mexico right now), and Thursday, a job was offered and accepted.
So, just a couple more things completely out of our control to go. Finding a house (now we have a community to focus in, though), and getting the boys properly enrolled in school for the fall (preferably Melia's new school).
I'm humbled and frightened by the events of the past few months. A tipping point of sorts has been crossed and we are now closer to finding a home in London than living in Lafayette, if that makes sense? Just3 weeks before my family arrives here. Since March, we've lived seperate lives, so their coming here is not just coming to England, but a reuniting of our family after months of disjointedness. It is what we all are looking forward to the most.
This Saturday, I hope to find a house that we might eventually call home.
- Our house needed to sell, or get rented out
- We needed to sell our vehicles
- Melia needed to get a job in London
- Melia needed to be able to complete her final class of her MA from the UK
- We needed to get a house here in the UK
- We needed to get the boys enrolled in a new school here
- We needed a plan of what to do with our household goods
The major things, of course, centered around Melia finding a job and our house in Lafayette being taken care of in some manner. So, here is an update:
- We have tenants for our house in Lafayette (thanks to Craigslist). They move in July 1, and have signed a 2 year lease. Yep.
- Melia's final class of her MA is probably the only class that is flexible enough to be done from distance, and her professor has agreed.
- My beloved Xterra sold, literally one day before I was to get on a plane to come to London last time. It sucked, but it had to be done.
- Amnesty Int'l agreed to pay for a container to ship our household goods here to London, and ship them back if and when we move back in the future.
- And...., after a major disappointment, MELIA GOT A TEACHING JOB HERE! Just three days ago, I had decided to look for a house without knowing where Melia would be teaching. I spent the entire weekend driving all over SE England looking at houses. This Saturday, I was just going to take the plunge. On Tuesday, Melia got a call that an interview had been set up. On Wednesday she was interviewed via phone (she is in Mexico right now), and Thursday, a job was offered and accepted.
So, just a couple more things completely out of our control to go. Finding a house (now we have a community to focus in, though), and getting the boys properly enrolled in school for the fall (preferably Melia's new school).
I'm humbled and frightened by the events of the past few months. A tipping point of sorts has been crossed and we are now closer to finding a home in London than living in Lafayette, if that makes sense? Just3 weeks before my family arrives here. Since March, we've lived seperate lives, so their coming here is not just coming to England, but a reuniting of our family after months of disjointedness. It is what we all are looking forward to the most.
This Saturday, I hope to find a house that we might eventually call home.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
My London Commute
On my last journey here from the USA, I packed my bicycle on the plane with me, determined to save money (20-30 British Sterling per week) and time (it has taken me 1 ½ hours to make the 10 mile commute from my dad’s place to work via bus/train/bus). So far, it has proved a worthwhile effort in hauling my beloved Specialized across the Atlantic. The net gain is the money, and now it only takes me about 40 minutes ride time door-to-door. But, the gain is not the whole story. The real story is the adventure of dodging double-decker buses and black taxi-cabs in one of the world’s busiest cities.
My first day riding to work was exhilarating and frightening. I can’t really remember being so UNrelaxed on a ride. First of all, I’m riding on the left hand side of the road, which throws off all my natural instincts in avoiding life-altering collisions. Second, there are vehicles of all shapes everywhere, making up rules as they go. I arrived at work on that first day happy to be alive and wondering if I had what it takes to get home that evening. I’m writing here, so I must have.
My follow-up rides in and out of Central London have been characterized by a lot more confidence, which is beginning to scare me. Riding in Colorado teaches one to stay right, make eye contact with drivers, give right of way to vehicles, and stay in the bike lane when there is one. In London, you stay left unless a huge rectangle-shaped double decker is there instead, don’t worry about eye contact because your too busy observing what the big red rectangle on wheels will do, act as if you are a large vehicle and demand the right of way, and if there is a bike lane, get in it before a bus does.
A few lessons I’ve learned so far:
- Clip in fast / Clip out faster
- Look over your shoulder on the left, not the right… oops, I mean the other way… I think. Shit. Welcome to my ride.
- Don’t draft behind a bus (seems like a good draft, but inhaling the exhaust isn’t fun)
- Roundabouts are not cycle friendly, so avoid them if at all possible
- Businessmen in suits on folding bikes look funny, but they can pound it
- Don’t look at the sights along the way because you’ll run into something big and red
- The sights really are more amazing on a bike
- Bus lanes are awesome as long as a bus isn’t in it
- If you are unsure about where to go, follow other bikes
- Don’t listen to your ipod on this ride….. way too much going on
- In London, bikes are faster than trains, tubes and buses…..
- Commuting is not racing, but deep down we know it is, so don't get dropped by the businessman in a suit on a folding bike
All in all, I am enjoying my daily rides. We have showers at Amnesty, so I arrive at work not only alive, but awake and ready for the day. I arrive back at my dad’s in the evening feeling much better than if I would have sat on a train and bus for 90 minutes. On a serious note, I’m much less depressed about being here as well. I'm sleeping better. Something about working out….., and look, I have time to blog.
What I really want, though, is a pair of glasses with a camera embedded in them. Then you could really appreciate my daily survival trek.
By the way, on my way to work, I cross London Bridge with a view of Tower Bridge. I pass right by St. Paul’s Cathedral and its huge dome. And I deftly avoid intimate encounters with many, many big red rectangles with wheels.
I’ll get that camera sometime. Then watch for me on YouTube. It will be legend.
My first day riding to work was exhilarating and frightening. I can’t really remember being so UNrelaxed on a ride. First of all, I’m riding on the left hand side of the road, which throws off all my natural instincts in avoiding life-altering collisions. Second, there are vehicles of all shapes everywhere, making up rules as they go. I arrived at work on that first day happy to be alive and wondering if I had what it takes to get home that evening. I’m writing here, so I must have.
My follow-up rides in and out of Central London have been characterized by a lot more confidence, which is beginning to scare me. Riding in Colorado teaches one to stay right, make eye contact with drivers, give right of way to vehicles, and stay in the bike lane when there is one. In London, you stay left unless a huge rectangle-shaped double decker is there instead, don’t worry about eye contact because your too busy observing what the big red rectangle on wheels will do, act as if you are a large vehicle and demand the right of way, and if there is a bike lane, get in it before a bus does.
A few lessons I’ve learned so far:
- Clip in fast / Clip out faster
- Look over your shoulder on the left, not the right… oops, I mean the other way… I think. Shit. Welcome to my ride.
- Don’t draft behind a bus (seems like a good draft, but inhaling the exhaust isn’t fun)
- Roundabouts are not cycle friendly, so avoid them if at all possible
- Businessmen in suits on folding bikes look funny, but they can pound it
- Don’t look at the sights along the way because you’ll run into something big and red
- The sights really are more amazing on a bike
- Bus lanes are awesome as long as a bus isn’t in it
- If you are unsure about where to go, follow other bikes
- Don’t listen to your ipod on this ride….. way too much going on
- In London, bikes are faster than trains, tubes and buses…..
- Commuting is not racing, but deep down we know it is, so don't get dropped by the businessman in a suit on a folding bike
All in all, I am enjoying my daily rides. We have showers at Amnesty, so I arrive at work not only alive, but awake and ready for the day. I arrive back at my dad’s in the evening feeling much better than if I would have sat on a train and bus for 90 minutes. On a serious note, I’m much less depressed about being here as well. I'm sleeping better. Something about working out….., and look, I have time to blog.
What I really want, though, is a pair of glasses with a camera embedded in them. Then you could really appreciate my daily survival trek.
By the way, on my way to work, I cross London Bridge with a view of Tower Bridge. I pass right by St. Paul’s Cathedral and its huge dome. And I deftly avoid intimate encounters with many, many big red rectangles with wheels.
I’ll get that camera sometime. Then watch for me on YouTube. It will be legend.
Monday, June 9, 2008
No such thing as good-bye
I have prided myself on the perceived strength of not giving into pressure, but I find myself buckling under the constant request of dear friends to open a family blog which may or may not detail the adventures of our family. As I’m sure all of you know, we are in the midst of a move to Europe, to the UK to be specific. I fell into a job with Amnesty International and now we are on our way. The past several months have been full of tension and uncertainty, and strangely enough, peace. As I sit here at Denver International with a one-way ticket in my hand, I am pondering a decade of experience in the first place our family collectively has been able to call home. Leaving Lafayette, Colorado is a leaving home, and I’m not quite sure I’m handling it well.
It’s June 8, and I won’t see my kids or wife until July 15, which is hard enough. I’ve traveled enough in the past to know how to navigate days and weeks apart, but today is different. My kids sense it. I feel it deeply. It is no small thing that the ticket I hold is one-way. We are uprooting and moving and we are all experiencing the loss. Dear friends have told us repeatedly about the adventure that awaits us. Living abroad with children certainly can be an amazing experience, but all things being equal, I wanted to stay. I have reveled in the fact that my kids have gone to the same schools and grown up with the same friends their entire lives. Now that all is changing.
I should shut up with the whining, though. Change is hard, to be sure, but an amazing opportunity does await us. London is one of the world’s great cities and we will be within shouting distance of Paris, Rome, Berlin, Madrid and all the living history one could want. We are a soccer family, and Europe is where soccer (football) calls home. And somewhere in Germany is the giant sandbox, a memory from my youth that soon I will impart to my kids. You’ll have to wait to hear that story.
So we’re off. In a few weeks our goods will be packed and put on a boat headed northeast. Melia and the boys will land in London in July and we’ll head to a place yet unknown that if all goes well, we’ll begin to call home. We’ll figure out school for the boys, church for our family, and of course the local soccer club. Hopefully we’ll find people who we will begin to call friends. What we want is to find community, a place where we can be ourselves.
Today has been hard because it has been full of good-byes for me. There is a surreal finality in the air. I think I’m ready, though. I am tired of the Atlantic commute every 3 or 4 weeks. We are all ready to be in on place. But good-bye’s are difficult. That’s ok. If life is good, they should always be difficult.
So instead, I say, “see you later.” We’ll be back in Colorado sooner or later. We love it too much to stay away. We also own two properties there so we have to come back and deal with those details. We have no idea if this move is permanent or temporary, or what those two words even mean. But we do know that amongst real community, there is no such thing as goodbye. Also, we fully expect everyone of you who said you’d come and visit England to actually do so.
The hugs and hand-shakes meant more over the past week than usual. To all of you, thank you for that. Thank you for loving our eclectic family, for walking with us through every valley and peak, for being our community where we have felt freedom to be ourselves. Thank you for blessing us in this seemingly crazy move. Thank you for helping us raise our children and for sharing your children with us. Thank you for being our friends.
We promise to keep this blog posted with the latest happenings of the Syed family. We might even post some photos at times. Please, keep in touch with us as well. We are not the only ones living an adventure.
Viva la vida,
Andrew Syed – from DIA airport on a cloudy day in Colorado….
P.S. Get a passport and download skype. It is a small planet....
It’s June 8, and I won’t see my kids or wife until July 15, which is hard enough. I’ve traveled enough in the past to know how to navigate days and weeks apart, but today is different. My kids sense it. I feel it deeply. It is no small thing that the ticket I hold is one-way. We are uprooting and moving and we are all experiencing the loss. Dear friends have told us repeatedly about the adventure that awaits us. Living abroad with children certainly can be an amazing experience, but all things being equal, I wanted to stay. I have reveled in the fact that my kids have gone to the same schools and grown up with the same friends their entire lives. Now that all is changing.
I should shut up with the whining, though. Change is hard, to be sure, but an amazing opportunity does await us. London is one of the world’s great cities and we will be within shouting distance of Paris, Rome, Berlin, Madrid and all the living history one could want. We are a soccer family, and Europe is where soccer (football) calls home. And somewhere in Germany is the giant sandbox, a memory from my youth that soon I will impart to my kids. You’ll have to wait to hear that story.
So we’re off. In a few weeks our goods will be packed and put on a boat headed northeast. Melia and the boys will land in London in July and we’ll head to a place yet unknown that if all goes well, we’ll begin to call home. We’ll figure out school for the boys, church for our family, and of course the local soccer club. Hopefully we’ll find people who we will begin to call friends. What we want is to find community, a place where we can be ourselves.
Today has been hard because it has been full of good-byes for me. There is a surreal finality in the air. I think I’m ready, though. I am tired of the Atlantic commute every 3 or 4 weeks. We are all ready to be in on place. But good-bye’s are difficult. That’s ok. If life is good, they should always be difficult.
So instead, I say, “see you later.” We’ll be back in Colorado sooner or later. We love it too much to stay away. We also own two properties there so we have to come back and deal with those details. We have no idea if this move is permanent or temporary, or what those two words even mean. But we do know that amongst real community, there is no such thing as goodbye. Also, we fully expect everyone of you who said you’d come and visit England to actually do so.
The hugs and hand-shakes meant more over the past week than usual. To all of you, thank you for that. Thank you for loving our eclectic family, for walking with us through every valley and peak, for being our community where we have felt freedom to be ourselves. Thank you for blessing us in this seemingly crazy move. Thank you for helping us raise our children and for sharing your children with us. Thank you for being our friends.
We promise to keep this blog posted with the latest happenings of the Syed family. We might even post some photos at times. Please, keep in touch with us as well. We are not the only ones living an adventure.
Viva la vida,
Andrew Syed – from DIA airport on a cloudy day in Colorado….
P.S. Get a passport and download skype. It is a small planet....
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