Ex Patria

Late

I'm late today. Things happen – the Internet was out all day, we had no water all day, and that turkey had to be digested somehow.

The nutmeg maple cream pie was to die for. The Bruxelles sprouts were actually better today than yesterday. The pumpkin cream cheese was a hit with my guests but I didn't care much for it. I really like the subtle flavors of real cheese cake and I don't really care that much for pumpkin in sweet dishes. I thought I should make a pumpkin thing for my American husband and guests but I should have stuck with actual straight-forward cream cheese and left it at that.

We really enjoyed our guests, a couple we only met a week ago. That was something to be grateful for.

I'm grateful for my husband, my kids, my family.

And I'm grateful that I have the bestest friend in the world. Thank you for being in my life. (You know who you are.)

Olives

This morning, Jacob had his usual snack. This snack consists often of a yoghurt, some fruit (tangerines are a favorite at the moment), and whatever else the fridge contains that day. He's a very good eater.

Our nanny speaks Armenian with Jacob (and a mixture of Armenian, Russian and English to the others). I usually don't pay much attention, although I have this strange gift of understanding the meaning of languages even though I don't speak them. I can't for the life of me reproduce what I hear, nor tell what the individual words mean. It also doesn't make learning a language any easier. But it's unusual enough that I often get baffled reactions like "but you understand, so you speak Armenian!" No, I don't. But I can decipher according to situation, references and non-verbal cues really, really well. Anyway.

This morning, I overheard Karine asking Jacob whether he wanted some "zeytun". And that word I recognized instantly. I turned around, and against better knowledge, said delightedly, "Oh, but that's a Turkish word!"

I do that, again and again, even though I know it annoys the hell out of her. As she put it one day, it makes her heart rip. I'm really sorry for that, but having grown up in Turkey, it's a real treat for me to hear Turkish words. To my ear, they just sound so beautiful. And it is the exact same word in Turkish. Zeytun. Olive.

Karine protested, of course, that it was an Armenian word, and that the Turks must have stolen it. I was dubious about that – not because I normally defend the Turks in every which way (only sometimes) but my inner linguist didn't think it sounded Armenian at all. Not really Turkish either. I said to her, placating, that it must be an Arabic word. She was somewhat mollified. Arabs aren't nearly as bad as Turks.

So, of course I had to go and look it up:

Olive is a loan from Latin oliva "olive; olive tree", which itself was loaned from Greek (eláa or elaía, from older elaíva "olive; olive tree"; furthermore élaion "olive oil"). The word's ultimate origin is probably an Eastern Mediterranean language not known today.

In the languages of the Iberic peninsula, the Latin name was superseded by an Arabic loan: Spanish aceituna and Portuguese azeitona both come from Arabic al-zeytun "the olive"; in Spanisch, oliva refers to the tree, not to the fruit. See also capers for more examples of Arabic loans in Iberic languages.

The Arabic term is cognate to Hebrew zayith "olive" and might derive from a Common Semitic root signifying "to be prominent".

Due to the enormous importance of olives for both the Greek and the Roman cultures, their name entered nearly every European language via Latin oleum "oil" as generic word for liquid fats.

Cool.

Smitten

I'm so smitten. If you are one to enjoy food, if you are always looking for a special recipe but don't subscribe to Gourmet magazine, if you want to have fail-proof step-by-step directions with gorgeous pictures, then let me introduce you to Smitten Kitchen. Oh, my goodness. The photography alone is wont to make me jealous that someone can be so talented. And the recipes are just delicious.

Now, I can't reproduce one tenth of what Deb is writing about – partly for lack of time, partly for lack of eaters (kids can be so picky), partly for lack of ingredients. Some things can be hard to get in Armenia.

But tomorrow, we will have the chestnuts and Brussels sprouts in brown butter, the pumpkin cheesecake, and, if I don't run out of steam, also the nutmeg maple cream pie. Just click those links and resist, I dare you. (Carlos?)

Of course, we will also have the traditional turkey that is slowly thawing in the fridge and that will – diverting from tradition here – not be prepared a la Martha but a la Contessa this year. Mashed potatoes, of course, and some green bean dish that I haven't quite decided on yet. (I can't abide Green Bean casserole, I find this one of the yuckiest things ever!) Peas and French fries for the boys who hate both green beans and mashed potatoes, goodness knows why. Those kids do not have my eating genes.

Anyway. Check out Deb's site. I will go now and check on that cheesecake.

Short gas update

In case you are wondering: we did get the gas back. The low pressure wasn't low pressure at all. All that unproductive hissing was air. So our Heating Guy (he has a name but is generally referred to as "Heating Guy" and he lives next door) let the air out and things were swell. The heating is working fabulously, so far, and so is the stove.

Knock on wood.

Medienkritik

Well. 20 days into the experiment and I'm still here, that's the good news. The bad news it, it's not going quite as I had envisioned it: I feel I'm writing too much about daily stuff with the boys that nobody but my family and friends ought to be interested in. But, you know, I'm keeping at it, even though the November blues has hit me badly, so there's that.

I found an interesting blog today, called "Davids Medienkritik" (David's media criticism) which deals with anti-Americanism in the German media. It's interesting because a. there is a disturbing trend in the German media and b. it's so much a trend that an anti-American bias is commonplace these days and hardly remarkable. This is, of course, not a good tendency at all, so I'm glad I found these guys to sensitize me a little and make me think.

However, the comment sections of some of the posts are just appalling. There is some good stuff but sometimes, it's just sheer vitriol about the "other" side, and nothing but prejudices without any facts backing them up. I'm big on facts. I'm also wary of facts (aka statistics) but I'm more wary of people how shout at the top of their lungs and repeat old stereotypes without applying a bit of own creative thinking.

Arguments from both sides of which I'm particularly tired:

"We helped rebuild German so they should be grateful and not critique us."

"Americans don't know anything about Europe."

"Europeans are much more sophisticated/educated than Americans."

"Germans are sourpusses and deserve to be ignored."

Um.

I'm not even going into any of these in detail because that would cause me to froth at the mouth. Let me say this: We need each other. Probably Germany needs the US more but the US also needs us. We really ought to grow up and try to be civil with each.

Heh, I did my part. I went so far as to marry one. I can recommend it! We are building our own Trans-Atlantic bridge here, and we find that we can learn lots of interesting things from each other. And my best friend is an American Jew. Take that!

What do you think you could learn from Germany? (Or in the very rare case that you are German, what do you think we can learn from the US?)

Hick!

I'm trying to set up a new homepage for us. Eventually, I want to have everything under one roof: homepage, blogs, photos, info on chronic non-specific diarrhea in toddlers, etc. It will take a while because real life keeps interfering, and the hiccups.

After a tedious trial at coding the entire thing myself, more or less, I have now installed Joomla! and hope that I can make something with that. Of course, I don't really know how it works. However, I managed the install and now I'm playing around with templates and all that. This means, of course, that I'm spending endless hours on this venture without actually producing any presentable results. Well, that's what I would like to do, anyhow. But, as I said, our Internet connection has the hiccups. Bad hiccups.

All day long the Internet's been on and off, more off than on, actually. It's annoying me to the point of screaming madness.

Also I'm tired because Alan kept me up all night with an ear ache (that had mysteriously disappeared when he woke up this morning).

So. I said I would post every day. I didn't say you'd like to read it every day.

Good night.

What comes next?

There had been a small chance that we would stay in Armenia after the end of the Doug's current project. A so-called follow-on project was in the discussion. Last night we found that this follow-on project will not happen, or it will not happen in the immediate future.

For us, this means that we are about six months away from moving out of Armenia, and yet again into the unknown.

Well, we assume that at that point it will not be an "unknown" anymore but as for now, we don't know. Most likely, there will be another project, or there will be a string on short-term work for Doug. Last time, he went to Kosovo, Albania, Laos and other places before we found the project in Armenia.

We've been dreaming of taking a sabbatical, an extended home leave of sorts. Three months, maybe four. We could do this in Germany, in my parent's town or in the US. Both options have their plusses and minuses: Germany has in-built babysitting and is quite a bit cheaper. We could take our car there, for instance. The rent would be lower, we'd have a kindergarten/preschool in town, and we know the area and have friends and acquaintances there. It would be very nice.

In the US, there are other plusses: Ben & Jerry's, of course; being close to other friends and family; better possibilities for Doug to find a position for afterwards.

We don't know. It's a very sketchy plan because if there is a seamless transition into another project in Egypt, Kazakhstan, Ukraine, Zimbabwe… we're on our way. That's the nature of the business. That's our life.

(Well, maybe not Zimbabwe.)

No Gas, Day Three

I'm being unfair here. The gas is back on. Of course, it did not come back on at the promised hour of 8 pm yesterday but it's back since this morning at 11 am or so.

The only problem is that the pressure is so low that neither the stove* nor the heating are satisfied with it. They just sort of cough around a bit and then politely decline. No, thanks they say. Not up to working standards quite yet. We'll wait this one out.

Me, I'm not happy. I want my heat back on. Tonight we are going out to the annual Marine Corps Ball at the Marriott and I'm wearing my red dramatic shoulder-free dress. Only, I'm thinking I should reconsider and wear a ski suit – if only I had one. I was already wondering if people would notice winter boot under the dress. And now I wonder if the Marriott has heat…

I really should live in the tropics.

Husband? Get thee a job in the tropics. Wife is cold.

 

*Did I mention the stove is a gas stove? No? Well, it is. We ordered out for pizza and pasta today. And tomorrow? Probably again.

Cold

It's cold.

Oh, not what you think. It's a balmy 7 degrees Celsius outside – that's what? 45F? So, not too cold for November in the northern hemisphere. However, we have no heat. No, this time it's not the fault of the ancient heating system we have, this time it's because the gas company has shut the gas off to do some major repairs. Yes, in November. Yes, half the city. Yes, everybody is cold because everybody heats with gas. No, our house isn't well insulated and yes, it cools down really fast.

You are thinking the same as I did, right? Why not do this giant overhaul in, say, June? Or even September?

The latest rumor I've heard in respect to all the major repairs that are going on everywhere is that the government was found out. The money, so it's said, had come in from abroad (I'm not clear whether they were donations by the Diaspora or maybe donor money), and it had been sitting in the bank for three years. That fact was discovered and an ultimatum was delivered: Spend the money or give it back. So, they are spending it.

Yes, I know, that's vague. I have this info from Armenian friends who claim it's true but can't give details. Given that Armenian politics and the perception thereof are full of conspiracy theories, this has to be taken with a grain of salt. However, it would explain so much.

Here's a cute fact: the gas company sent people out to warn the tenants and landlords, and apologize to them. I find that heartwarming and I'm not being funny.

Here's a not so cute fact: I thermoregulate really badly. I have low blood pressure (normal values are 80/60) and I don't tolerate the cold so well. So imagine me, in a cold house. I'm wearing the big turtleneck sweater that normally leaves me in sweats. I drape myself around the little electrical radiator that we have put up in the boys' room (yes, right across the warning: DO NOT COVER). I wear socks in bed. I drink a lot of hot tea. I am miserable.

I know, I'm a wimp. Go ahead and laugh at me while I shiver.

And you know what? Somehow, I'm thinking that tonight, the gas will not come back as promised. It's just this superstitious belief I have about repairs and deadlines. And about cold.

No oil, no money, no headlines

Bangladesh is poor. It has no oil. It has no real strategic value. So, we don't care.

Or so it seems.

A category 4 cyclone is heading directly towards Bangladesh. It's expected to make landfall around 3 am on Friday, November 16. As it approaches land, cyclone Sidr is only gaining strength. The low-lying floodplains of Bangladesh are in severe danger - hundreds of thousands of people are in the path of a catastrophic storm. This will be much worse than Katrina. Much.

Yet, we hear little. Andrew Sullivan does his best to advertise, so does Chris Mooney from The Intersection, as well as the Daily Green. But where is the MSM? Where are the nightly news? The running reports? The updates every ten minutes? Why are the satellite images not staring at us from every screen?

It makes me sick to my stomach how the world is divided into "important" and "unimportant". So 200,000 Bangladeshis die? What's it to us?

Caring about it makes us human. Not caring makes us, well… you decide.

 

Photograph: U.S. Navy