Posted in daily life
It’s all so old that it’s new again. What better way to spend time in the modern world then checking hair for nits (circa 300 BCE) while listening to downloaded podcasts of NPR’s Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me.
Posted in daily life
Posted in daily life
So Emily’s part of the RISE program, which stands for Redlands Independent Study Experience, or something like that. Each week she receives an assignment sheet detailing her tasks to be completed, and at noon each Monday spends up to an hour talking (via Skype) to a teacher who works within the RISE program (as she’s doing in this photo). Usually students participate in RISE for shorter terms (like being out for medical reasons for a few weeks) and are still local (so physically meet with their teacher once/week). Our biggest hurdles have been figuring out how to convert her written work to digital form for ease of e-mailing, since we have no easy access to a scanner. Many things she types onto her own laptop, but if it’s something that’s handwritten, such as workbook pages or tests that she’s completed, I take a picture (.jpg) of it with our digital camera, download that image to my own laptop, clean it up in Photoshop (resize, make sure it’s bright enough, etc.), convert it to a .pdf, combine all the .pdfs into one document, and email to California. It’s been taking 1-2 hours/day to manage it all (these conversions, plus answering questions, listening to all of the “discuss with your parents” topics, and communicating with California). When she returns to school on June 2, Emily immediately returns to her normal 8th grade classroom and will take her year-end final exams. And on that same day I will write a little note to the State of California thanking them for having public schools to which I can direct my tax dollars and send my children so I don’t have to home-school them anymore. Plus a gift from Argentina to Emily’s very nice and accomodating teacher in Redlands who’s never had to spend so much time figuring out trans-continental communication before!
Posted in daily life, education, family and friends
Posted in daily life
>
Posted in daily life
Seems we’re getting used to a daily routine here. I remember reading somewhere that most habits and routines (exercising, stopping nail biting, flossing, etc.) are more likely to “stick” after a period of 3 weeks. That is, if you can manage to do something for a steady 3 weeks, you reach some tipping point and you’re less likely to stop. Of course, there’s a world of 2-week quitters walking around out there…
So, we made it to through week 3 without leaving. At this point Julia’s the only one who complains, loudly and daily, about being here. She’ll be 10 on Friday and dearly wishes to be in California, or Vermont, with friends, to celebrate her birthday. She doesn’t like sharing a tiny room with her brother. She’s earned the unfortunate title of “Most Likely to be Bitten by Mosquitoes” and re-earns it daily. She’s increasingly frustrated at not being able to communicate – with any fluency – with her classmates. The names of objects and basic verbs are the first elements we learn in foreign languages, and these are inadequate when it comes to discussing nuanced, emotionally-laden, pre-adolescent topics on the playground. Chris and I joke about measuring these life experiences in “couch hours” (i.e., how many hours of psychotherapy on a couch will the person require later in life to recover from a given experience). Julia’s estimate? Immeasurable. Our estimate? I’m banking on zero, but ask us again in a few years.
Otherwise, activities of daily life continue. We don’t have a car here, so all outings require planning and time. We know our immediate neighborhood well. Eric and Julia even went solo on Sunday morning to get bread at the bakery (un kilo de pan, por favor). Fresh from the oven and pennies per serving. Within a 4-block radius we have the laundry place, the pharmacy, the fruit/vegetable store, the meat store, the chicken store (apart from big supermarkets, smaller shops specialize in either cow or chicken and never the twain shall meet), multiple bakeries and ice cream shops, and the cheese/cold cuts store. Cold cuts are fiambres in Spanish. Chris also learned recently that the word fiambre is slang for stiff, as in a cadaver. Yum. With a few more blocks, we can also get to the school supply store, the florist, the bookstore, the hardware store, the bank, the train and bus stations, and a dentist (a very nice woman whom Eric saw yesterday for a problem tooth).
It was dark when we walked home from the dentist, since the appointment had been for 6:30 pm. On the walk home we talked about why 6:30 pm is a totally normal time for Argentines to go to the dentist (the waiting room was packed when we left), the amount she charged us (70 pesos for an hour-long exam including a cleaning, a flouride treatment, a tiny x-ray, and a lesson on proper flossing techniques), why that still would be very expensive for Argentines, how much that would cost in US dollars (about $22), why that kind of appointment would have cost much more in the States, why we couldn’t afford to live here – in anything approaching the lifestyle to which we’ve become accustomed – if we weren’t paid in US dollars, and why if we got regular Argentine jobs here, we wouldn’t be paid in US dollars. It takes about 25 minutes to walk home from the dentist, long enough for meaningful conversations. Especially now that we know which houses have the really scary barking dogs that we have to avoid.
Posted in daily life
The only hassle of any significance has been an inconvenient hick-up in the University of Redlands email system that freezes, with some consistency, when I try to “reply” to an email. It works fine when I initiate a new email to someone, but many of my messages are replies, and two times out of five when I hit the “send” button, I get only a “Forbidden” warning. Prohibido. Verboten. Interdit. What’s even more annoying is that once I’ve angered the man-behind-the-curtain-email-reply-wizard, he won’t let me access our Redlands email server – and all internet traffic is slow – for four or five minutes. So, imagine your productivity flow being ground to a halt for 4-5 minutes at least twice an hour. It’s enough to make an international telecommuter want to scream.
(Yes, I’ve already talked to IT support at Redlands about this, but they don’t know what’s going on and it’s confusing enough when I explain that no, I’m not on the UR network and I’m actually not able to stop by their offices and have them take a look at my laptop. And yes, Chris experiences the identical problem when he’s using his Redlands account too from work. And yes, it happens if we’re using webmail over Firefox too.)
Typically I use these short, limbo intervals to work offline or to answer Emily’s homework questions. But by late in the day, when my mind and writing both begin to wander, I’ve been known to grab my PDA and play 4-5 minutes of Bubble Breaker. You know the type of game, with columns/rows of colored balls and when you click on clusters of the same color they disappear, and the larger the cluster, the more points you get. Just a quick 4-5 minute fix of mind-refreshing entertainment. Then it’s back to my day job: making maps, designing classes, writing labs, organizing meetings, coordinating 6-figure proposals to government agencies, all in the name of spatial literacy.
One day last week, Mari (the woman who does some cleaning and cooking for us a few hours/day) was sweeping nearby and said something to me about the paro (the nation-wide agricultural strike that’s affecting the food supply). It was about 6:30 pm and I was in the midst of my 89th forbidden-email interval that day. With guilt I quickly put aside Bubble Breaker and we had a great and informative conversation that helped me finally understand what was happening on the street. She helped break my ignorance bubble.
What a complex structure this thing called work, and what she must wonder about my job. I type, I talk into a microphone, I type some more, I periodically grumble and walk around the house for 5-minute-stretches, then I type some more. Meanwhile, she completes tasks that are immediate and tangible. Clothes are folded, dirt is removed, dishes are washed, food is prepared. For this we pay Mari 15 pesos/hr (about $4.80/hr). For my typing and talking I earn considerably more – and a description of my work means very little to Mari, or Elvi for that matter. Yesterday I used Marratech to teach an hour-long workshop on Census data to a small group of colleagues back in California and Elvi watched in amazement and I set up my webcam and put on my microphone/headset. Then she turned her attention back to the Bubble Breaker game that I had just taught her to play on my PDA.
Posted in daily life, technology
Posted in daily life
Posted in daily life