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.