Winter Vacation and Katherine Recipe for Happiness

I had big ideas to make a fabulous blog about our recent trip to the US. Everyone who is likely to read this, probably saw us on our travels, so I decided to make a video instead. It is attached here to the blog. Besides horrible swine flu for me, Chris and Katherine, we had a great time.



We got back to Caracas on January 10th and were greeted with rumors of rolling blackouts, more water shortages, and the devaluation of the Venezuelan currency. Oh well, another day in Caracas. So far, we have not been affected much by these doings and have been back to normal life here as we know it.

Katherine has started a new book in her reading class and it is called George's Marvelous Medicine. It seems that George has a mean and terrible grandmother. He plans to make a magic medicine that will change her into a sweet, loving and happy grandmother that he desires. Katherine's assignment tonight was to make a shopping list of ten ingredients that SHE would use to make a medicine for her grandmother.

Here is her list, and below that is her reasoning (copied directly from her homework):
1. 16 tons of chocolate
2. 16 black rats
3. Carrots (lots)
4. A bride's dress
5. Makeup
6. Flowers
7. Botox
8. Hair Dye
9. Soap
10. Bleach

Katherine's Reasoning:
1. Chocolate to make her fat and jolly.
2. The black rats are for getting all of the bad stuff out of her body and make her good.
3. Carrots to make her eyesight better.
4. A brides dress to make her merry.
5. Make up to make her look pretty.
6. Flowers to make her smell good.
7. Botox to make her skin look pretty.
8. Hair Dye to make her hair more colorful.
9. Soap to make her clean.
10. Bleach to make her teeth whiter.

I sit stunned beyond all belief. So much for world peace.

Death of a Blackberry

In a lot of ways my life was a lot easier when I was a full time practicing physician.  I had a full time nanny who cleaned my house, did my laundry, grocery shopped, and basically acted as a wife without the fringe benefits.  I also had Blackberry or IPhone permanently attached to my hip which controlled my day to day activites and kept me in touch with the outside world. 

I also had an entire team of people at my work life who wound me up and kept me going in the right direction.  I did not have to remember the little details of my day to day activities - my fabulous staff and the miracle of handheld electronic gadgets connected to my clothes did all of that for me.  Thank you thank you Terri, Rhona, Kelly, Sandra and I could go on and on....

BEEP - my hip would go.  Press a button.  Oh, I have surgery tomorrow at 7:30 at St. Johns.  It is for Ms. Smith and we are doing a hysterectomy.  BEEP.  Oh, I am on call tomorrow.  BEEP.  I have scheduled the afternoon off for vacation so I can go to Katherine's class Christmas party.  And so on, and so on.

When I moved to Venezuela my gadgets went away.   I have a cell phone here, but for the first time in 10 years it is not attached to my clothing.  I spent the first two months in Caracas fogetting it at home as I was not used to having to look for it, find it, and put it in my purse.  My cell phone now gets lost IN MY PURSE I am not above calling myself to find it in the deepest recesses of my handbag. 

Upon moving to Venezuela, I also suddenly had no real agenda.  How fabulous. What a life.  I have to wake up, do a little work on the computer for my consulting site, get the kids up, feed them, dress them, and get them to the bus.  At around 2:30 the driver takes me back to school to pick up the kids.

From 7:30 - 2:30 my time is my own.  How on earth do I fill it?  Do I just sit around eating bon-bons all day?  At first it was easy.  I work out every morning - and that takes a couple of hours.  I had serious unpacking and decorating of my new home to do.  I had to learn my way around the school and markets of our area. 

Within a few months, I became settled in my surroundings, my excursions dried up and I began to look for more things to do.  I stared working out with some friends in the mornings after the kids were off at school.  I became a room mother for both kids, started volunteering in the clinic at the kids school, joined the British and International Group, and got active in our church. 

I was not in the habit of carrying around a calender, or writing anything down on paper, so I began to "forget" things, meetings, play dates, commitments.  I realized how completely dependent I was on my electronica.  I had to break down and buy a calender to keep track of everything!  I actually have to carry around a pen to graphically notate all meetings and events.  My respect for my "stay and home" Mom friends continues to blossom.

What is Art?

Frustrated by boring beige walls, and inspired by Jackson and Luke Gaido's fabulous creations that serve as art in their parents dining room, we decided to take matters into our own hands.

I had looked in art galleries around Caracas for art to hang on the walls in our apartment, but could not find just the 'right' thing.  I also balked at some of the very high prices.  

I found an art supply store in Caracas and bought three canvases  I thought would be a good size to hang on the wall space I wanted.  I then picked out a few large tubes of acrylic paint I thought would look good with the furnishings and rug we have now.

I decided to paint each canvas a base coat of a different color, and then allow the kids to finger paint over the base in a contrasting color.

I got up early on Saturday morning and started painting canvases.  Chris joined me after his workout and helped me while he surfed the web and drank coffee.  We let the base coats dry and made breakfasts for the kids.

After the base coats were dry, we brought in the kids.  The only instructions we gave were to keep the paint on the canvas and not the table and we let them go to town.  They smeared the paint on their hands and created their masterpieces.  After they were done, I went behind them and added dark brown "low lights" to give the pictures a common theme.

We watched them dry and were amazed by how fabulous they turned out.  We let them dry overnight and got up early and hung them.

I know abstract art is not for everybody, and heck, before this project it was not really for us either, but we love them.  I will have them and cherish them forever.  They mean something wonderful to us — and isn't that was art is all about?

We are now taking orders.

Only in Venezuela

Here are my children's beautiful school pictures from this year.

Madeline had a terrible cold and an awful runny nose for a week before the photos were taken.  Due to the constant irritation and wetness, she had developed a horrible red, crusty rash on her upper lip.  She looked, at the time, like she had a confluent cold sore from her upper lip to her nose.

I had to keep it covered with vaseline to keep it from getting worse — and that made it shiny enough to be seen from space.  So, understandably, I was shocked when I got the pictures today.  The lesion was magically gone.

Madeline was airbrushed.  Retouched.  She is five years old.  They had airbrushed away the crusty scab and left behind a smooth, beautiful doll.  When I questioned other parents, they stated that yes, their children were all airbrushed as well.  The photographer will even go as far as putting teeth back where they used to be if the new ones have not grown in yet.  Katherine is airbrushed too — her freckles are gone.  I like her freckles.  They are part of her personality and a testament to all of the time she spends in the pool.  I would have liked them there - I wish they would have asked me.

High School Oopsical

Caracas has plenty of entertainment options and often gets "big name" players here.  Just two weeks ago the Jonas Brother's were here and played to a completely sold out arena.  We saw advertisements for "High School Musical" Summer Celebration, and thought it would be fun to take the kids.  The HSM tour had been here 2 years ago and everyone said it was wonderful.  Our group bought 17 tickets at $350 BsF a piece.  We were up in the bleachers — the floor seats were around $500 BsF each.  We all met at our apartment, the kids brimming with excitement.  Madeline and her buddy Hana each dressed up in their own Disney sanctioned HSM costumes (Hana the cheerleader, and Madeline as Sharpay).  We loaded up everyone into the vans and took off with cars full of squealing children to head for the show.  Fortunately, my husband was thoughtful enough to fortify us with enough adult beverages to endure the trip.    The show was to begin at 7:30 so we left at 5:15 in anticipation of the traffic.  We arrived at the theater at 7:00 and proceeded to the Will Call office.  It seems that they had run out of the paper to print tickets so we had to wait a few minutes.  We finally got our tickets and proceeded into the arena.

I had been to the High School Musical show in Houston a couple of years ago — so when I saw the stage I was surprised by the difference.  The original show boasted a huge moving stage with levels and a large video screen.   As shown above, the stage here was a simple black platform, a back drop and two blowup "East High" mascots.  Hmmm.  I wondered if something was up.  The concert started exactly at 7:30 - half of the locals were not even in their seats yet.  Two people dressed as cheerleaders came out and started speaking spanish.  First they introduced Kelsey - I knew it was not going to be the real Kelsey as she just had a baby and is way over 30, but I figured the rest of the crew was not doing much so why not tour Latin America?  Then they introduced Sharpay and even though I could not distinguish facial features from our seat (see above picture) I knew it was not the "real Sharpay."  The rest of the 'actors' came out for a production number and with binoculars I was able to tell that most of the kids looked a lot like the original actors, but were not the real ones.  The second number was "Get Your Head in the Game" — near the end of the song, there was a commotion near stage left.  It seems that an angry parent had rushed the stage.  All of a sudden the lights went on in the theater and the music stopped.  The actors all ran off of the stage.  It was about 7:45.  

Our party sat in shock trying to figure out what was going on.  We then saw a man jump up on the stage and start gesticulating obscenities towards the back of the stage and to the crowd.  The people in the VIP section started screaming and yelling and booing.  People on the floor began to leave in droves.  We did not want to leave as we thought we were safer where we were, not to mention that we had little clue what was going on.  We slowly figured out that the people on the floor were outraged that the show was being performed by look-a-likes and not by the real performers.  We had a few "little kids" in our party and after about 30 minutes of waiting to see what was going on, they began to get cranky and hungry.  We loaded up the first van with Chris, Tara and some of the little kids to go home while the rest of us decided to stay and see the show (if it ever restarted).

About 45 minutes into the wait a few people came on stage and began reading statements that (in translation) went something like "At no time did we ever say that the original movie actors would be performing......"  The floor seats that were left went wild with screaming and more of them began to leave in droves.  The man said that the performers would restart in 20 minutes for anyone who would like to see the show.

So we decided to wait.

And we waited, and waited, and waited.

There were no bulletins, or updates.  Just an empty stage and people without a clue what the heck was going on.  After about an hour after the man left the stage, he came back and said that the show would start in 5 minutes, but the people in the front few rows had to "push back" for security reasons.  Well, that was met with some disappointment as well.  The crews brought in more barriers for in front of the sage and a row of security officers were placed along the front of them to keep the actors safe from the 12 die hard children who were left in the front  and determined to stay for the show — bedtimes be damned.  The people finally moved back and the show "re"-started.  The actors lip synced and danced their feet off.  From where we were sitting, you could not tell the difference — and actually the "Troy" character may have been a better dancer than the original one (no offense to Zac Efron of whom I am a HUGE fan).  The kids had a ball after all and we were home at around midnight.

Only in Venezuela?

Life Goes On

I am sure everyone has seen the video of Curaco - if not, the link is just below - so enjoy.  I really do not have a lot to add to the video.  As you can see, we had a fabulous time.  It is a beautiful island in the caribbean located just north of Venezuela and Colombia.  It was settled by the Dutch and many people there speak english. 


Well, if pressed, I can suggest that if you want to feel good about yourself, go on an exotic beach vacation with a lot of people who don't exercise, eat as much as they want, and insist on wearing a bikini.  On the news front, the male bikini bottom seems to have given way to the modified bike short in neon or pastel colors.  The only man in the world who looks good in these is Daniel Craig.  


We arrived home in Caracas on Friday evening and on Saturday decided to hike up the El Avila National Park.  The Avilla is the mountain that separates Caracas from the Caribbean - most of it in an uninhabited national park.  We headed up the trailhead with several local families and encountered some of the steepest climbing I have ever attempted.  We were armed with our hydrations packs and determined to make it to our destination.  About half way up the Avila is a path that runs parallel to the Caracas Valley Floor - we found a hut, bathroom and rest station there.  From there we continued up the valley to a beautiful stream and waterfall.   Lots of families were there taking advantage of the cool water, having picnics, and swimming.  


The following week, the kids were out of school on Thurdsay due to parent/teacher conferences, so my friend Tara and I decided to take the kids up the Teliferico (cable car) to the top of the Avila and see the Caribbean Ocean and the old abandoned hotel on the top.  The ride takes about 20 minutes and provides a spectacular view of Caracas.  


At the top is a musem of sorts, with booths selling fruits, local crafts, and food.  There is also an ice skating rink - but it was closed and full of water.  There was music and some dancing as well at a little park on the top provided by a local DJ.  It was very cloudy at the top that day so we did not get to see much of the views from the top.  We were lucky enough to get a tour of the old Hotel - very swank 60's sort of place.  You cold almost see the ghost of Dean Martin on stage with a cigarette and a silver microphone.   The kids enjoyed it and I loved seeing the hotel I have stared at every day from my bedroom window.  Unfortunately, the tour was entirely in rapid fire Venezuelan spanish - so I could only grab onto about every third word.  I Googled the Hotel Humboldt when I got home but was surprised by the lack of information on the internet - I did find a recent article on the web that has some great pictures of the Hotel.  

Narratives by Katherine's Class

Click on the title for the link:  enjoy!



Wonderful Work

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Campo Way Club

Shock and Awe.

When we decided to move to Caracas, my first worry was for my children's education. They had had a tough year before we left, as Ike had left its mark on their home, school and community.

On our look/see visit last Spring I was able to tour the school, view the classrooms, facilities and meet the staff. I was impresssed and the school came with the recommendation of all of the Chevron families I had met. My sister in-law also did some research (she has taught in Europe and has friends on the international teaching circuit) and found out that the school was highly ranked among international schools.

The girls matriculated in August and I have been very impressed. They love school are enthusiastic, happy and seem to be learning well. At the beginning of school, I began hearing about the Camp Way Club.

The children's school is named Escuela Campo Alegre and in order to join the Campo Way Club you must demonstrate the following: Be Responsible, Be Respectful, Be Safe, and Do Your Best. When I heard that, I thought, well that is nice, but good luck enforcing it.

I attended a meeting of room mothers recently (YES, I am a room mother now) and was interested to hear the other moms talking about their children not making the Campo Way Club. Their children were devastated. I was aghast. A child did not make the Campo Way Club??? What does this mean? How does this happen?

It seems that at the end of each calander month a Campo Way Party is held in each classroom for the children who have earned the right to be there. It is a HUGE deal for the children to be included/excluded. The children are rewared for following the Campo Way with treats, music, dancing. Katherine has never been a discipline problem so I never gave it much thought.

At the beginning of the month, all kids are in the club. If you get three strikes that month you are not allowed in the club or to the party that month. Katherine got her first strike of the year today. She was very upset.

In her folder was a piece of paper. It looked like this:

Katherine had to fill it in herself, sign it and give it to me. I tried to scan and I hope you can read it.  I could not wait to get home and show it to my husband.

Imagine, a concept of teaching children to be responsible and not involving the parents - other than to let them know what is going on at school??? 

Katherine is not traumatized or less of a person because she got a strike, but is darn sure she is not going to forget her folder again so she does not miss out on the party. Peer pressure and postive reinforcement at its best - we think.

I remain impressed by this school.

Any thoughts??

VIDEO FROM CURACAO

Angel Falls and Canaima National Park

For the video of our trip - please CLICK HERE

I really hope I can do this place justice. 

Last weekend my family made the journey to Angel Falls and Canaima National Park.  This excursion was on our Latin American Bucket List - along with Curacao, Galapagos and Machu Pichu.

This trip has now made my top ten of the greatest things I have ever done in my life.  Experiencing it with my husband and children made it even more spectacular. 

From the time I flew into Canaima I was in pure and total awe.  I kept looking at my husband and we would send the mental message of "Wow, how awesome is this?  How lucky are we?  I love you for our life together."

We made plans for the trip several weeks ago.  We knew that it was still the rainy season and travel up the Carrao River would be good - it is impassable in the dry season.  Some of our friends had gone and recommended the Waku Lodge and the trip in general.  We travelled with our good friends Sean and Rhonda Kelly, and their kids Amanda, Ryan and Megan. 


Day 1


The day finally arrived.  The kids were off of school on Monday so this gave us a chance to go over a three day weekend.  Chris was flying back from Houston the morning we left.  I had to get the girls to the airport by 6:00am.  We woke up at 0400, got dressed, and waited for our Pacheo driver to take us to the airport.  We got to the airport as the sun was rising and were relieved when Daddy called us that he had made it on time and would meet us at the domestic terminal.  The airport in Caracas is one of the distinct reminders that we are in a third world country.  Lots of crowds, shoving, shouting, and waiting.  We made it through check-in and then through security.  Our plane left for Puerto Ordaz - a one hour jet ride away and landed without incident.  Our next plane was full so we had to wait a couple of hours for it to bring the other passangers to Canaima, drop them off, then turn around to get our party of 9 people. 


We happily boarded our plane and headed for Canaima around noon.  We flew over a large lake and then started seein the large plateaus and mountains out of the window.  The landscape looked like something out of Lord of the Rings.  The flight was only 35 minutes and we landed in a lush green valley surrounded by giant plateaus.  The "airport" was a grass covered hut with no walls, windows, or doors.  A large jeep with Waku Lodge printed on the side picked us up and drove 5 minutes to the nearby lodge. 

We were not sure what exactly to expect at Waku Lodge.  I was mentally prepared for huts and bugs - but instead, was greeted by manicured lawns, beautiful natural architecture, and lovely private rooms. 

Standing on the property, I noticed a dull roar in the background - it sounded almost like traffic in a big city, but there are no cars.  What is that noise?  I walked toward the sound and found the lake the Lodge sits on a beautiful small lake - the Canaima Lagoon.  Directly across from our beach are two "small" waterfalls.  The roar was the rush of water sweeping over the falls and into the lagoon.  It was breathtaking. 

We were immediately ushered to the dining area - a very large thatched and a gorgeous dining room.  After a beautiful lunch were thinly sliced grilled eggplant slices were wrapped around goat cheese and nut mounds (among other delicious offerings) we went to our rooms to get ready for the first tour.  Our rooms were spacious and consisted of single beds.  There was a private bath with hot water and a small sink.  The decor was beautiful and beyond our expectations. 

We met on the beach and our guide Jose had us load into long, narrrow canoes called Curiara for a tour around the Canaima lagoon directly in front of the hotel.  This surprised me as I did not realize that we were going to another tour besides the one to Angel Falls.

The boat took us to see the Hacha and Golondrina and Ucaima falls.  The water was low enough for us to walk behind the waterfalls for one of the most spectacular experiences I have ever had. 

After leaving Ucaima we hiked into the jungle and went to explore the Sappo and Sapittio falls.  The hike was beautiufl and took less than one hour.  We were able to walk underneath the Sappo falls as well and then hiked down to the base of the Sapitto where a lagoon awaited.  The kids had a wonderful time swimming and playing in the water with their Dad and friends.

After hiking back to the canoes, we headed back to the lodge.  We were happy, exhausted adn filfthy.  After showers and a glass of wine (for the adults)- we headed out to dinner.  After dinner we sat outside and looked at the sky unpolluted by surrounding lights and were entertained by shooting stars.  The kids ran all over the resort like they owned it, playing tag, hide and seek, and stargazing.

We were promised a knock on our door at 0400 to get up for the Angel Falls trip the next day - so we headed off to bed.

Day 2


As promised - the knock came, and we dragged ourselves out of bed.  At 4:45 we met in the main area for coffee and crackers and then loaded into jeeps.  The jeeps took us around the lagoon and through the village where the people who work at the camp live.

Just past the village was Ucaima Port just above the Canaima Lagoon Falls - there our canoes awaited.  The canoes are about 30 feet long and made from a hollowed out log of at least 60 inches in diameter.  Around the log is a second layer that makes the helm, stern and outside of the boat.  The front and back were where the guides sat and drove the boat and negotiated the shallow area and rapids.

About 45 minutes into the journey, we pulled off onto the beach and unloaded at La Sabana de Mayupa.    The Mayupa rapids are too dangerous to try to fjord by boat.  A tractor pulled us about 3 miles to the other side of the rapids.  We loaded back into the canoes and continued our journey.  When we reached Orchid Island we stopped for breakfast.  There is a camp there where people can sleep in hammocks closer to the falls than we were.

After leaving the island, we again headed upriver.  The vegetation and landscape began to change dramatically.  Areas of the river became very shallow and we got to experience how skilled our river boat drivers really are.  We saw other canoes where the passengers had to disembark and push the boats past rapids or shallow areas, but our guides never did.  It could also be because many of our passengers were small children who did not weigh very much.  The mesas and mountains also became more and more beautiful.  Finally, we began to see the Angel Falls.  Our collective mouths dropped open at the sight.  It was stunning.

We pulled up to a small island and began the hike up to the base of the falls.  The land below the jutting cliffs is rainforest and climbs steeply to the base of the falls.  The ground is littered with giant roots of trees that snake along the ground - sometimes several feet thick.  Large boulders are scattered amongst the paths as well.  The hike took us well over the hour prescribed - especially since we had a hardy 5 year old making the trip.

There is a small pool at the base of the falls.   After hiking through the rainforest, almost everyone strips off their clothes and dives in.  Be warned, the water is COLD!  My kids tolerated it the best they could but did not swim very long.  Madeline found a nice warm boulder, curled up on it, and refused to move. It was now 100pm and time to head back.  We had to hike down the same path and at that point Madeline had had just about enough.  She was struggling to climb down the boulders, still wet and cold from the swim and just lost it.  Jose - our fabulous guide - scooped her up without asking and piggybacked her down the mountain.

Jose is one of the local tribe of indigenous people to the area.  He is a professional guide and was able to take his 10 year old son with us on the journey.  He is able to speak English, Japanese, and Italian - not to discount Spanish and his native dialect.  He and his son hiked the entire way barefoot.  Even though he has seen these sights thousands of times, I got the feeling he truly enjoyed seeing the falls and loved his job.  If you ever go - ask for him, and tip well.

When we got back to base camp at the river, lunch was waiting.  A crew had barbecued chicken and there was rice and salad.  It was delicious and we were starving.  We got back in the boats and headed home the way we came.  The sun was setting instead of rising and we got a view of the mountains that was completely different than the morning.  The sun set during the last 30 minutes of our boatride and the moonlight guided us home.

We showered and went to have a glass of wine before dinner.  We chatted with other people at the lodge and met some interesting people.  Dinner again was wonderful.  Suddenly, the owner of the lodge announced that they had entertainment for us.  The local school choir was to perform.  A small group of children gathered in the front of the dining room and prepared to sing.

I looked up to be polite.  These were obviously native indian children whose parents likely worked at the lodge or the other lodges near ours.  They must have lived in the village we had passed on the way in.  They were scrubbed clean and had on nice school uniforms.  They called themselves the Coro Infantil de Kanaima.  They likely ranged in age from 6 - 16.  The taped music started and they began to sing.

I was blown away.  Tears filled my eyes.  They belted out the most beautiful live music I have heard in years.  We were all stunned.  After the performance, they walked around selling music discs of their music for 20 Bolivares (about $4) and we bought one.  I have used one of the songs as part of the soundtrack of the video I am making of the trip.  You will know which one it is when you hear it.

The next morning we got up and had coffee on the grounds.  There were parrots and monkeys in cages around the lodge and we took the kids to see them and buy souviners and T-shirts.  After breakfast, we went back to the airport and had a safe trip home.

The link to the video is to follow.  

Venezuela: Oil and The Economy

A great synopsis of the current political situation in Venezuela.  Fairly long, but very interesting and informative.

 http://downloads.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/radio/worldbiz/worldbiz_20091006-0106a.mp3

It's A New Day

My latest video. Nothing fancy. Just us, doing our regular thing. Enjoy.

Dining Out in Caracas

Ok - I feel a little weird writing about dining experiences in Caracas because my (truly) fabulous sister-in-law Erin is the Goddess of all things Food (and BTW has a blog about it - http://euonym-me.blogspot.com).

We have been to a few restaurants in Caracas, and, are getting used to the local customs. One of the very first things that I noticed was there was the lack of a children's menu at any restaurant we went to. That made me wonder, until I looked around, and realized there were no children at the restaurant. Except mine. There really weren't many people at the restaurant either, and it was 6:30 pm. This became a theme of almost every restaurant we have been to here.

Hmmm. Where are all the hungry children?

I did some investigation and found out that Venezuela basically has two social classes - those with money, usually lots and lots of money - who can afford to go to restaurants, and those without money - who stay home. A wealthy Venazlano with children has a live-in-nanny by default. Childcare is always available and never an issue. Our family lives on gringo time and we rarely eat dinner after 6:30 pm. Most Venezlano children are fed about the same time (by the nanny) and are put to bed at the usual time (by the nanny). Their parents, however, don't dine until at least 9pm and dinners can stretch well into the wee hours of the morning.

I have also learned to be patient when dining in Caracas. Everything takes much longer than you anticipated, especially for an American. Lunches routinely take 2 hours. Dinner is much longer. No one is in a hurry. Not the patrons, not the waiters, and certainly not the kitchen.

When you walk into a restaurant, you are greeted by a host or hostess who asks you if you would like fumar o no fumar. No fumar (smoking) please. You are seated immediately and asked for your drink of choice.

It is a dead giveaway that you are American when you ask for wine (one of the first Spanish phrases I learned - vino "vee-no"). True Venezlanos drink whiskey (pronounced whee-key).

At lunch or dinner, large bottles of Johnny Walker adorn the tables of most locals. Whiskey is served neat or over ice. Even the women drink it. Most restaurants also have a shrine in prominent display of Johnny Walker bottles that were never finished, each adorned with the card or name of the owner scrawled on a napkin and taped to the side of the bottle - awaiting the owner's return.

Your waiter will wait until you completely finish your first drink before attempting to approach your table again - and then, it is to ask you if you would like another drink. We have always had to tell the waiter we were ready to order - that is, if we could find him. It seems that the locals value their privacy.

Waiters do not wait near the table ready to be of service if needed - they congregate far away from the patrons and pass through the dining area every 30 minutes or so. Once we order, the food can take 25 - 45 mintues to arrive - even at lunch.

The food in Caracas is fabulous and worth the wait. The city is multi-ethnic has an extraordinary range of cuisines to offer. There are spanish, french, italian, mediterranean, japanese, and chinese resturants everywhere. The local specialities are mostly meat, meat and more meat with a few arepas thrown in.

An arepa is a bread made from corn that is unleavened, flat and round. It can be grilled, baked or fried. In Venezuela it is a stable to most meals, or can be sliced and filled with eggs and cheese for breakfast or sliced meat for lunch. It pushes the limit of sandwich construction as a stand-in for bread, but is a local favorite.

If you want a quick lunch (about an hour) there are plenty of Panaderias (bakeries) where you can order sandwiches on fresh baked bread or croissants. There are also stands and carts for quick meals (but I will not go near those).

All good things come to those who wait.

Buen Provencho!

Baby Talk

I am trying really hard to learn Spanish.

It is one of my goals I set for myself before I moved down here.

I was off to a great start. Chris and I had purchased Rosetta Stone in an effort to 'bone up' before we moved here. I started it, but kept getting sidetracked by the drama of the move so did not get very far. I have tried to continue it here - and it is going OK, but is is woefully insufficient in teaching me the things I needed to know as soon as I moved here.

Things like I Want, I Need, I Go....... forget conjugation, I just need to go and pick up my kids at school and go to the grocery store.

Once I mastered that, I started learning things around the house and kitchen to help me with the maid - cuarto (room), cama (bed), llavar (to wash), limpiar (to clean), and of course please and thank you.

Spanish is beautiful because there is no confusion in spelling like with English. Each vowel only has one sound - ahh, eh, ee, oh, oo. Thats it, really simple. No long and short vowels, no shwa. If you can roll your rrrrrrs then you can say anything in Spanish. You just have to remember that j = h as our maid is Julia (hoo - lee - ah), g = h like general (hen - ne - ral), h = is silent like hache (ah - chey), v = b like vendaje (ben - dah - hey), and z = s like zapatos (sah - pot - toes). Piece of cake.

Many words with the same meaning are spelled exactly the same as english - but sound completely different in spanish.

For example, take the word universal - easy right - it is spelled the same, but here is sounds like oo-KNEE-bear-sal. Now if you are a native Venezlano you will say it in less than .3 seconds and drop the last syllable.

You hear a word. oo-KNEE-bear-sal. You tilt your head to the side, squench up your nose, and let your mind roll the syllables around like your first taste of Far Niete on the palate. You detect notes of familiarity, start to make a mental connection, and then, "I've got it!" Universal. However, by the time you realize what they have said is a word that you know, they have moved onto the next paragraph.

Right when we first moved here I was bursting with my exuberence to practice my spanish, in an attempt to tell my maid that my "hair was falling out on the floor" I said, "mi pellotas en el piso." She blinked a few times, smiled, and walked away. That translates to "my balls are in the floor" - so I got pelo (hair) and pelotas (balls) mixed up. Whatever.

My friend R said to ask people to speak to you in spanish as if you were two years old. Hmmm. That is about where my vocabulary is, so it makes sense. I'll have to try it.

Adios.

Girl's Trip

My consulting business is going well and I have carte blanche to spend my earnings on whatever I would like.

It took me no time at all to figure out what I wanted to do with it.

Designer Jeans? — No. Purse? — No. Shoes - no no no. I honestly have all of the material things that I really want.

Last summer I took my girls on a cross country road trip while Chris was hard at work in Venezuela. I adored every minute I spent with those girls and think it was one of the greatest things I have ever done in my life. I realize that I have this bubble of time when they still like me and crave my company - AND are old enough to remember the journey as "the best of times." Travel is always my splurge on myself or my family.

So, another trip is in order. When I thought about where to take them, I realized that I have a much smaller window of time than I did last year. We are going to Hawaii for Chris' mother's 70th birthday as soon as we arrive back in the states, and Katherine starts Camp Mystic in July. We went west last summer — so why not east this time. Way east — like Florida.

I want to take them to Disney World. Again.

I know that most adults cringe at the thought of a trip to Disney World and ONLY go when so that their kids can have the memory. After battling heat, crowds, and long lines, they check it off of their lists, pat themselves on the back for being good parents, and swear never again.

Not me.

I LOVE IT. I love every minute of it. I love it as much (if not more) than my kids. I love the rides. I love the food. I love the hotels. We are staying at a very nice hotel on the monorail and to me it is worth every penny for the convenience. I understand that it is not for everyone, and that most sane people would rather spend their money elsewhere on a more relaxing vacation.

I just cannot help it. When I am there, I am happy the entire time. I feel like I worked hard for the privilege and have earned every minute. My kids are giddy, cooperative, and sleep like the dead every night. I love love love to watch their faces light up at the spectacular sites. We do it up and do it right. We see the shows, eat at the fabulous restaurants, watch the fireworks and ride their favorite rides over and over. We sit down with the maps and plot out our attack of the parks — making sure we hit whatever attractions interest them.

And, for at least a month before we leave, I am guaranteed perfect behavior under threat of the trip being cancelled.

So June 23 - 27 we are heading to Orlando for the greatest vacation on earth. Call me crazy.

My Favorite Photo Ever

That plate, in the middle, is me.

Good to be loved.

Boom Boom Pow

I remember thinking, just a day or two ago, "Wow, life is good here, so much easier than I thought. I hardly have anything interesting to talk about." Yeah, right.

It was time for my semi-annual neck-throwing-out party. My first tennis lesson was Thursday. I met a bunch of ladies from the British and International Group (BIG) at a recreation area called La Cinta near our kids school. I have never had a formal tennis lesson in my life and had never even tried to volley before. I started hitting balls with some ladies and was impressed by my innate athletic abilities. I was actually hitting the balls with the raquet and making it over the net. Never mind that it did not land in the right square or anything. The coach arrived after about an hour of hitting around with the ladies. I was feeling pretty good - I couldn't wait to impress him with my newly discovered skill.

Two of my friends shared the lesson with me. Both had had lessons and played some before. We started with grips, how to hold a raquet, and then, the backhand. He had us get in a line and would hit the balls to us and critique us on our backhand. R would hit, "Good!" he would say, and then she would move back for C who would hit, "Good!" he would say, and then she would move back for me. I would hit, "OK" he would say, hands on hips, "We need to talk" and then lecture me on how I was facing the wrong direction, holding the racquet wrong, hitting the ball incorrectly, etc... "Good", "Good", "OK - lets talk" went on for 30 brutal minutes of backhand. When it would be my turn to hit, I was a wreck, sweating, heart pounding, trying to remember all of the instructions I had been given. Bend my knees, front foot at a 45 degree angle, arm out - but not too far, hit gently (don't whack it - that will come later), make it look easy.... Yeah, RIGHT. Then there was some comment about looking good does not mean you actually do well. Story of my life, dude. I was not expecting to get life lessons as well as tennis.

After backhand he launched into a discussion on how he became a tennis coach, how he had lived in Boston, then Paris and had actually attended the Sorbonne. Don't get me wrong, he was a really nice guy, but somehow life had lead him from one of the best universities in the world to a hot, small, public tennis court in Caracas where he was teaching oil executive wives how to hit balls. C'est la vie.

On Friday my good friend K, who lives in the apartment complex directly above mine told me that her complex had been robbed the night before. A group of men pulled up in a van and held a gun to the vigelante's head and told him to let people in as usual. As the owners came home, they were met by gunman and then brought up to their apartments and robbed of jewelry and money. This happened for about three hours. Three apartments were robbed and their inhabitants tied up and locked in the concierge's apartment. No one was seriously hurt. My friend K was home when this happened and had no idea what was going on. Her building only has 12 apartments. The incident has definitely had us thinking about what we would do if/when this happens to us. We have alarm systems - but the police are just not equipt to deal with robberies. Crime here is rampant and getting worse. Luckily - the robbers in this case seemed to be 'professionals' and were not interested in hurting people - but did threaten with guns. GULP. We have two safes in our house. Both are broken and will not open. Imagine me trying to explain that to an angry Chavista in Spanglish without getting killed. Gulp, gulp. About the time she told me this, my neck started throbbing and I realized I had pinched another nerve - likely from tennis.

Saturday was miserable for me, my neck was killing me and I could hardly turned my head. We had promised the kids we would take them to the Saturday morning sports at the school. Most of the families at ECA live in apartments and very few are fortunate enough to have a pool or any kind of grounds to play on. This has led to many parents taking their kids back to ECA on Saturday morning to play soccer, swim, or just hang out and let the kids play. I tried to swim a few laps with the kids, but the whole 'can't turn my head thing' was getting in the way. My pain was getting much worse, and the kids were tired and hungry. We stopped off for lunch on the way home and go to the apartment around 1:30. I took a bunch of Celebrex and headed off for a nap. Madeline snuggled up with me.

At around 3:30 I was awakenend by a terrible noise. A storm was whipping through Caracas. As we are located on a high hill above Caracas, this storm happened to be eye level with my apartment. Thunder and lightening were my new neighbors and the wind was howling through my windows. It was almost like when you are flying next to a storm on an airplane. Two walls of my bedroom are windows - so I felt like we were part of nature. Madeline woke up from the noise and we held each other and watched the show. As storms do here, it moved very quickly and the whole thing was over in under an hour. When things quieted down, Madeline hopped off of the bed in search of her sister. I curled up with a book, unable to go back to sleep. Suddenly, I felt the bed shaking.

Earthquake.

It only took me a second or two to figure out what I was feeling. Oh My God. It. Is. An. EARTHQUAKE.

I am Cajun and I am no stranger to natural disasters. I spent 90% of my life living within 50 miles of the Gulf of Mexico - so I know all about the wrath of nature. Whisper the word hurricane, and most Cajuns smile and mentally go through their refrigerators and try to remember if they have enough beer, cream cheese, Pick-a-Peppa, and fixins for a big gumbo. Since we have the lazy luxury of an early warning system, most natural disasters start with a party, and are a great way to catch up with family you have not seen in a while. We spend the evenings watching the weather channel, playing bouree, and telling stories of hurricanes past. Even if your entire house is wiped out, you at least have a good story to go with it.

That being said, I am completely freaked out by earthquakes. When I figured out what it was, I sprang into action, neck pain forgotten, screaming for Chris. He was calmly explaining to the girls what was happening while directing them to a safe location while I was running willy-nilly throughout the house. Growing up outside of San Franciso, he is a pro at earthquakes. We went outside and met lots of our neighbors - luckily we did not have any major damage or loose power and the whole thing was over in seconds.

Not so Mayberry anymore.

Stepford, Venezuela

My kids are thriving here.

They have settled in her almost too well. We are having the same ups and downs we would have in any school in the U.S., and they are extremely happy.

Even though Madeline is one of the only kids in her class who speaks English as her first language, even though Katherine is repeating the third grade, they are extremely happy. They can't wait to go to school, love riding the bus, and relish homework. They both take it SO seriously.

We started after school activities this week - Katherine is doing swimming and Community Choir and Madeline is doing swimming and dance. They both swim very well - but have never learned formal strokes yet. It is good to see them with coaches being taught proper technique.

I have a busy week as well. Monday was the British and International Group (BIG) coffee at the British Ambassador's Residence. Very very posh. I wore my best "wife of the oil man" dress and snuck in a camera. The house was gorgeous, but I felt a little gauche trying to get a picture of me with the portrait of the Queen.

This morning we took the kids to the school for the informal "sports morning" that is organized by the kids. Katherine ran all over the soccer field with her friends, while Madeline and Hana (her best buddy, seatmate on schoolbus, and neighbor) swam in the pool. After we left school, we went and had lunch at the El Tolon Mall in Las Mercedes, then went home for a nap.

This all sounds very Mayberry - but it is the truth.

Life is good here.

Oh - and I figured out how to make S'More's in the oven. Martha Stewart - here I come.

Feliz Cumpleanos

So I was warned.

Venezlano birthday parties are over the top. Incredible. The stuff movies are made of.

We got our first invitation shortly after school started. The invitation was "My Little Pony" - one of the kinds we find at Wal-Mart and fill in the blanks. I thought that the caliber of the invitations would be an indication of the caliber of the party. I mean, come on, I had survived many a Seigel Fest - how elaborate could it be?

The party was posted to start at 3:00 - school ends at 2:00 on Wednesdays. I was also warned by ALL of my American friends that the start time is relative. DO NOT get there until at least an hour has past. Why would you put the start time at 3:00 when you really will not start until 4:00? This practice makes me itchy and scratchy. My husband and I are routinely the losers that show up on time (maybe even 5 minutes early for any occasion - in fact, I have even made him drive around the block because I was sick of being the first person there AGAIN). We left as late as I could stand it - 3:20 and headed out to parts unknown. Of course, we got lost. My wonderful and patient driver, Eric, asked many people for directions, called the hostess and even called Chevron and no one could find the place. The directions we were given was the name of the neighborhood and the name of the apartment building - no one really uses street names and God forbid an address here.

In desperation, I called my personal savior, Karen Mazur (my brilliant and excellent ex-pat friend who has lived here for over 4 years and is fluent and knows absolutely everything) who was able to direct Eric to the party. This had us arrive a fashionable 1 hour late. My pulse was racing and I thought I was going to have a heart attack, but arrived in style.

We walked up the stairs to the apartment building. It was huge, beautiful and set into a large hill in Valle Arriba. From the street level I could see a large, blow up slide/bouncy thing and knew we had found the party. The vigelante let us in as we were well dressed and holding a present. As we made our way up the stairs, I began to see how the party was unfolding. Most of the nice apartment buildings in Caracas have "Party Rooms" on the first floor - no one will live there due to security so they find other uses for the space. In front of the party room was a green space and we could see that not only was there a bouncy castle/slide, but a tequeno maker, popcorn machine, face painters, slide, swings, and ice cream cart. I was greeted by a tuxedo-uniformed server (I am NOT kidding) who offered me an assortment of hors devours. Madeline immediately took off to join the melee of kids, and Katherine and I slunk off to find a quiet space to do some homework. The mother's of the kids were all sitting at a table together speaking Spanish. The DJ started and the music got loud, so I released Katherine to play with the other kids as the noise was too great to do anything productive school-work wise.

The other mothers invited me to the table and I did meet some very nice ladies. I also got to meet K - who is from the US and super nice and fun. We admired the extensive decorations in the party room - tables draped in pink and purple and chairs in the contrasting fabrics with bows in the back. Six foot tall felt flowers adorned the cake table and ballon arrangements dotted the room. K assured me that "this was nothing" compared to the other parties she had seen in pre-school the year before. Soon after our conversation the magician arrived to entertain the children for an hour. After he was done the face painters became party MC's and led the children into party games and the pinata. By the time the pinata was ruptured - candy and toys spilling out into the lawn - I had to call my children home. Julia was cooking her first dinner, and we still had to pick up Chris from the office. We picked up our party favor on the way out - hand decorated crown and wings combo for Madeline - worth at least three times than the gift we brought.

On the way home, full of candy, ice cream, and exhausted, Katherine remarked, "Mom, we could NEVER have afforded a party like that." "You are absolutely right," I replied. The birthday girl was precious, and her parents genuinely nice people. We were very lucky to have been invited.

Katherine's Birthday Party Video

Good Morning Caracas

OK.

I am here. I am settled. I am unpacked.

I can go to school and the grocery store without having a panic attack. I like my driver, and my housekeeper. I am making friends. I am safe. I can do this for the next three years and survive unscathed. I am in my happy bubble and can stay here for the next few years. I will be unscathed, unharmed, and unchanged.

Chris and I got invited to dinner last weekend. It was a birthday dinner for Chris' boss. Four couples were invited to a restaurant in the Las Mercedes area. One of the couples we know very well, as they live below us and our kids are good friends. The two other couples were golf buddies of the birthday boy and were in their 60's. Chris and I had never met the older couples before.

Our table was outside and the setting was beautiful. We mingled in the courtyard with Procecco and appetizers, making small talk and waiting for the birthday couple to arrive. When the time came for us to be seated, we all slowly walked to the table. We did, as people do, who are being polite but don't know each other very well. We slowly approached the table, trying figure out where we were going to sit. Chris and I gave each other the silent communication of permission to sit apart and as so to keep the other couples together. I sat between Chris' boss and a wonderful lady named S, and across from our other friends. Chris sat next to a woman named M, a real Venezlano grand dame who had married an American years ago and across from E my fabulous new friend (and wife of Chris' boss).

S and I fell into instant friendship and conversation. S grew up in England, and at the age of 17 started University. While there, she met a young Venezuelan man named Carlos and fell head over heels in love. They eloped and moved to Caracas and she has been here for 40 years. She was 60 years old, gorgeous, flamboyant, bilingual and the mother of three engineers, all successful and living in South America. For three hours I sat transfixed and listened to her tell her life's story.

Her parents did not approve of her match with a young South American man, so she did the sensible thing. Run away to Venezuela and get married anyway. She and Carlos came here with very little. They both worked, and were saving for a small apartment. A huge earthquake hit Caracas shortly thereafter and certain parts of town had drops in value - they bought an apartment that was right next to a couple of collapsed buildings - as the price was right. They started having children. Carlos was working for an international company and had put together a deal to open a biscuit (cookie) factory in Venezuela - but the board of directors disapproved of his idea. They decided to open the factory themselves - and the rest is history. She is still making chocolate biscuits for Bimbo here in Caracas. At the age of 40 she was successful, happily married, and raising children. Her husband developed a slowly progressive disease that destroyed his muscle function and took him from active husband and father to vegetable over the next 11 years. She nursed him during that time and continued to help out at the company and raise her children. At the time of his death nine years ago, most of their friends had slowly drifted away and she found herself alone. She took up golf and stayed in Venezuela as it had been her home for 30 years. A few months ago she befriended a widower who she is not dating and very happy with. They are going to England to meet her 87 year old mother in a few months.

As I listened to her, I kept thinking, Wow. She has had quite a life. She is a fighter. She knows how to live.

I am in my little ex-pat bubble and can easily stay here for the next three years - I can comfortably not learn Spanish, make no friends outside of my culture, not travel, yearn for home, work out, play on the internet, and wait out the next three years.

The more I listened to her, the more I kept thinking. Hell No. I am going to live here. Live Big.

Whenever I have made big life changing decisions before I was always "stepping up" in my life. Geology for Medicine, a surgical speciality, private practice for academics, and now what for Venezuela?

I left behind a career - sure I can go back but it will never be the same - for WHAT?? I thought the answer would find me. I thought I would be instantly enriched. I though my path would be clear. Sure, it would be easy to live in the bubble. The bubble was mostly created for our safety and I get that, but the bubble can isolate you from life if you let it. I see it happening around me.

Not me. I am here to LIVE. For safety's sake I have to stay in the bubble, but I can push it, mold it, and let it take me to places I have never been before, or would never have been if I did not make myself. It seems like I have to find life here - outside of my husband, his career, and the kids needs.

Get ready Caracas. Here I come.

Juego Pollo

Driving in Caracas.

I am determined to get a video of this as it is almost impossible to describe. Driving in Caracas is a true adventure. Caracas is in a valley that runs directly East-West. On the North and South sides of the city are hills and mountains. It seems that the roads that are located on those hills follow the natural drainage patterns that nature established years ago. The developers of these hillside neighborhoods also forgot to put in any artificial drainage systems to handle the torrential downpours that drench this metropolis on a weekly basis during the 5 month rainy season.

My hilltop apartment complex has a serpentine road that leads us down to the valley - and as the road winds it way down the hill, it is joined by other roads to create a main artery that ends up at the Autopista in the valley. It seems that signage is missing at most of the intersections of merging traffic and each juncture becomes a game of chicken. When in Rome, I guess. I seem to grab my chair, squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath each time we do this - and I am quite sure that Eric, my driver, finds this quite amusing. Thankfully, my kids are oblivious in the back seat with their IPODS, just singing away.

We brought the kids home last week during one of the downpours. Seriously, Galveston has nothing on a Caracas rainstorm. It is as if God vomits water onto the city. So here we are, winding our way back up the hill as sheets of water are running DOWN the hills along the roads. There were actually WAVES running down the roads. The visual dynamic was incredible. It felt as if our minivan would get swept away at any minute. Quite thrilling actually. Of course we made it home no problem - I certainly would have wrote sooner with a much better story if we had not. Will try to capture the experience soon.

New School, New House, Birthdays

I have learned alot in the last week.

My kids are resiliant, easy to please, and pretty much only need a pool and someone roughly their age to ensure their happiness. They are fortunatley too young to care about race, socieoeconomic status, or nationality.

School stared this week, unfortunately, the first Venezuelan virus hit our home this week as well. Katherine had to miss the first day of school today due to fever, nausea, and stomach pain. Madeline made it to orientation and is doing pretty well so far. I have a touch of it but not nearly as bad as Katherine.

Katherine totally rallied this morning and dragged herself out of bed for her first day of school on the second day of school. To make it more confusing, it was Madeline's first day of school as well. Both girls did great! No tears, just kicked me out of the room as soon as they could.

Our party last weekend was great. We had several Chevron families over - most of whom had recently flown in over the past day or so, and one new American Embassy family. It was fun and the kids had a great time. I did not think to grab the camera! The kids swam and ran around the apartment in little age divided groups.

Our apartment is nearly unpacked and decorated. I love it and am very happy here. I might have a contact at the US Embassy for a very part time position as a OBGYN consultant. We shall see how it works out. I also volunteered to help out in the school infirmary from time to time when they are short.

We are settling into our new routines now and I will keep you posted on how it goes.

Happy Birthday to Katherine tomorrow!!!!

Good Bye Galveston, Hello Caracas

In true Haver style, we spent our last night out with our friends and my parents at Dibella's

Restaurant in Galveston. It was wonderful, we had the back room and God bless our ONE waitress. She had her hands full with about 25 people including children. The wine flowed f

reely, the food was delicious, but being surrounded by some of the people we love most in the world was priceless. After dinner, we headed to the Gaido's for more company and wine. Some time around midnight, we decided to head home for some much needed sleep.

We were leaving at midnight the next day, so we slept in as much as possible. I spent the morning unpacking, repacking and trying to make each bag as close to 50# as possible. I called Continental to clarify their baggage policies. OK, so you can't take more bags than is allowed (2 per Economy Class ticket), but you pay a hefty fee if they are between 50 and 70 pounds. However, if you have a first class ticket (Chris gets to fly first class), and we did, you can take 3 bags on that ticket up to 70# free of charge. I began to work every possible algorhythm in my mind on how to get all of our luggage within the required weight, and pay as little out of pocket as possible.

We showered, dressed, loaded up the car, hugged my parents, and headed out. We had plenty of time as our flight did not leave until midnight, so we stopped at Pappasito's in Clear Lake for one last meal of good Mexican food, which Chris assures me is sorely lacking in Caracas. Dinner was wonderful and I happened to see two of my former patients who worked there. As an

other fluke, Todd and Laura Flores were there with their girls having dinner on the way home from Camp Mystic.

We arrived at the airport and parked our rental cars. Luckily, there were empty baggage carts right next to our cars so we were able to load them up. Chris had 4 bags and I had 3 plus the carry-on. When we were checking in they weighed our luggage. 5 of the 7 checked bags were over 50#. I was offered a first class upgrade for $199. In a stroke of genius, I talked Chris into upgrading one of the three coach tickets to allow us to not pay the $100 charge. He he. I have yet to fly coach to Caracas. Madeline and I snuggled in first class, while Chris and Katherine had a whole row in coach.

Once the bags were on their way, we headed to the rental car center to drop off the cars and take the bus back to the terminal. We had a couple of hours to kill, so we made good use of the President's Club before our flight left. Madeline thought we were walking into a hotel it was so nice. We boarded the plane at 11:30 and at midnight, took off for Caracas.

We landed at 5:30 am and made it through customs with minimal trouble. A "pacheco" driver greeted us with Chevron Security and brought us to our car. A second car was there to carry our luggage. The drive took over an hour due to traffic and the girls slept most of the way home. Madeline commented on the barrios she saw near the airport - "Mommy, where is all the pretty stuff, why do people live there??" When they woke up, we were home.

They loved the apartment. We showed them around. It is pretty empty as our stuff from home has not arrived yet. It is fun to imagine what it will look like when it is full of our beautiful furniture. At 10 am our regular driver arrived to take us to the grocery store. His name is Eric and he speaks NO English. He is so nice, likes the kids, and smiles a lot. The kids started practicing their Spanish with him. We started with the basics, Hola and Gracias. Madeline said she was too shy to talk Spanish - but by the time we left the grocery store loaded down with staples for a week, she was talking Spanish to any one that would listen. She was saying gracias over and over again, just with variations like gassy-ass, goss-see-oss, and grathias. People in the store were giggling..... Katherine (the pro) in style was flawless in her pronunciation of "Hola Senor Eric". It is so cute. After groceries we went to the neighborhood sushi (pronounced sue-chee here) for food. YUMMY. So glad to find something so good and so close.

Today we awoke to two large birds staring at us outside of our window. Kind of like a cross between a buzzard and a raven. They enjoyed posing for photos, then flew away. We then got out the guide book and decided to take the kids on an adventure. Chris picked El Hatillo - an old colonial settlement in the southern suburbs of Caracas. The guidebook and my parents who went there 27 years ago described it as quaint, full of beautiful old buildings, little shops, and lots of Curacan's out for lunch and shopping. Caracas French Quarter here we come. There was a slight miscommunication with Eric who took us to the wrong side of town, but we got that straightend out and 1.5 hours later ended up in El Hatillo. So now I'm thinking more 5th ward than French Quarter..... I was hesitant to get out of the van. We braved it and started walking around. We found an out of the way Spanish restaurant that served Tapas and we decided to give it a go. Not a thing healthy on the menu, but the food was pretty good. We walked around the square and found that, much like the French Quarter, the inside of the buildings may not reflect what is on the inside. We did find some beautiful furniture stores with hand made carved wooden furniture, as well as antique and art shops.

We got home and I learned how to work the iMovie function on my new Apple computer and Wow is all I have to say. Posted in this edit is my first stab at a movie. Welcome to Caracas.

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Venezuela
Protests likely after attack by pro-government activists on television station headquarters in Caracas
Created: August 04, 2009 06:22 GMTUpdated: August 04, 2009 08:12 GMT More than 30 armed activists of the Union Patriotica Venezolana (UPV) – a political party supportive of President Hugo Chávez – on 3 August attacked the headquarters of Globovision, the country's largest private television station, in the capital Caracas. The assailants threatened employees with firearms and threw tear gas canisters; a police officer and a number of security guards were injured in the attack.Comment and Analysis Political rallies are common in Venezuela, and the latest incident could potentially trigger anti-government demonstrations by opposition groups in the capital and other cities. Such gatherings can result in unrest between rival activists and the security forces, and personnel risk incidental exposure to violence in the event of such disturbances. Localised traffic disruption should also be anticipated in the vicinity of these events. While overall travel risks for Venezuela are rated as MEDIUM, the risks associated with travel to Caracas are rated as HIGH.The incident is indicative of the government's hostile attitude to private media organisations, after many of the latter backed the 2002 coup that temporarily removed Chávez from office. A decision by the authorities in 2007 to deny the RCTV television channel a licence to broadcast triggered widespread demonstrations, though the protest campaign failed to reverse the government's decision and eventually ran out of momentum, highlighting significant levels of support for the president's political agenda.The attack on Globovision's headquarters follows government statements accusing the channel of dishonest reporting, and a crackdown by the authorities on the media. The National Assembly on 30 July began discussions on proposed new legislation that would impose a sentence of up to two years in prison for any article or report considered to threaten ‘the social peace' and national security, a sanction applicable to the authors of such reports and executives of the media outlet publishing them. The government on the following day closed 32 radio and two television stations, describing their operations as illegal. The opposition regards the measures as unconstitutional and a blatant attempt by Chávez to consolidate his power.Travel AdviceAvoid demonstrations, rallies and picket lines due to a credible risk of clashes between demonstrators and the security forces. Do not attempt to cross picket lines or roadblocks as this may prompt a hostile reaction.

Sonoma Summer

The last few days in Sonoma were a whirlwind of trips to San Franciso and the outlets in Petaluma, bocce ball, dinners, hikes, and hanging out by the pool at Grammy and Pappy's house. We are so lucky to have such wonderful family that lives in such a geographically desirable area - and thank goodness I don't have to pay to live there. It is always a healthy dose of reality when we visit as to how much it costs to try to live there. Shout out to my incredible brother and sister inlaw's who are making it work.

On Sunday during our last week Jim and Rosemary took us to San Francisco for a matinee of Beach Blanket Babylon. I had never been, but had heard about it for years. To make things better, one of the major performers lives in Sonoma. Rosemary taught him in grade school and Jim coached him in JV football. He still goes to their gym and Jim sees him from time to time. Jim called him and he arranged for tickets for us in the VIP section. Before the show, we went to Capp's Corner for lunch - the most inexpensive and delicious meal I have had in California. It was an amazing show. I included a link for the curious: http://www.beachblanketbabylon.com/
It is a musical comedy, performed live, and "zany" is the best adjective I can use to describe it. It also is updated constantly and includes lost of parodies and commentary on current news events. It is the funniest Palin/Clinton impersonations I have ever seen and the Barbara Striesand may me want to wet my pants I was laughing so hard. After the show, some of the cast came to meet us at the front door. It was really special and exciting.

The next day, Grammy and Pappy took the kids to the park to play bocce ball and I went for a run through Sonoma. The kids loved the game and were able to pick it up easily and played very well. That night we went to Franceine and Bill's for dinner. What a gorgeous setting. They live near Glen Ellen and Jack London Park up on a hill. They have beautiful decks where we hung out and ate barbecued salmon. The girls loved playing with their dog and on the hammocks. Madeline only fell out twice.

The next day we headed out to Vallejo for the Six Flags/Marine World Adventure. Stephannie met us there. We had a great time riding the rides and the elephant and seeing the dolphin and killer whale show. Now, for those of you who have been to Sea World in San Antonio, this is NO SHAMU SHOW. This guy's name is Sukah (pronounced sue-kah, not suck-a). He jumps around a little bit and poses some, and gets people wet with his tail. Madeline kept asking where the girls were that were going to dive off of his back (like in San Antonio). She was very disappointed. This show was not as Disney-fied as San Antonio, but was a B- none the less.

The girls and I headed straight to Napa to visit Tony, Caroline and the kids. They just bought a beautiful new house and we were so excited to see it (and them). We headed out to Taylor's Refresher for dinner. The setting was beautiful and the burgers/salads were Delicious. We walked over to Oxbow for ice cream after dinner and hung out for a few minutes before heading back to Sonoma. As we were driving back to Sonoma at dusk, we came up over the head of the valley. The clouds were beginning to spill over the ridge that separates Sonoma from the coast. The clouds were pink in the sunset and it was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. To quote Domini, it was like driving into a painting. I was going about 60 and there was no shoulder, so of course I thought the logical thing to do was stick my iPhone out of the window and try to take a picture while driving. Lets just say it was not one my most brilliant ideas. It is a miracle my phone, my car and my children made it. I did not know why I did not think 60 mph winds would not try to whip the phone right out of my hand, and that I would swerve in my efforts to hold on to the phone, and my kids would scream their heads off when the car almost jerked off the road. So much for my beautiful, serene moment.

The next day we met Julia, Domini, and Stephannie for some shopping in the outlets in Petaluma and had a wonderful time. That night we headed to Marin for a final farewell dinner with the Haver clan.

Yesterday, Jim and Rosemary drove us to Sacramento to the airport and I managed to get my kids and 250 pounds of luggage to Houston. We had five huge bags, each weighing 50 pounds each. The kids were excellent. We got off the plane and headed to the luggage carousel. We rented 2 luggage carts, each manned by my 8 and 5 year old kids and I hauled each bag off of the rounder and onto a cart. When I got them all on, I pushed a cart, and Katherine pushed another. Shout out to all of the sweet and kind men who helped the damsel's in distress yesterday! And thank goodness I am halfway cute and my kids are gorgeous and we looked so pitiful. You see, I had to rent a car to get home and we had to ride a bus from the airport to the car rental place. I had to get my kids, myself, and all of that luggage onto the bus, off the bus, and into a rental car - hence, accepting the kindness of strangers. But we did it! We got home last night!!!

We leave for Caracas in 6 days. Gulp. It is really happening.