Oatmeal Intellect

Birthing and Dying

2009-07-01T21:14:00.001-07:00

There are many things in life that just seem to go together well - peanut butter and jelly, beaches and sand, birthdays and cake. These just feel like natural companions. Then there are other things in life which share absolutely nothing in common - spicy and sweet, the Rocky Mountains and the Sahara Desert, religion and atheism. Finally, there are other things in life that at first glance appear to have absolutely nothing in common but upon closer inspection, you learn they actually share more similarities than differences. It's this kind of discovery, stories of seeing the parallel in the perpendicular, that I want to share.

It had been just one month plus one day since I had given birth to my fourth child. The experience had been a difficult one for many reasons. It began with me going into labour several weeks after my 'due date' had come and gone. Neighbours, certain I must have had my baby by now, were beginning to drop by to meet our new arrival, figuring they had somehow missed the birth announcement. One neighbour in particular came by not just once, but twice, looking to cuddle our elusive infant. After her second visit, I broke down crying as I rubbed my swollen belly, more anxious now than ever to meet our baby. Still, it was out of my hands and all I could do was practice patience.

I did, of course, finally go into labour, and early one sunny morning, I found myself pacing the house, unable to sleep through the early contractions. Labour progressed and soon I found myself working hard to find comfort from the pain. The midwives arrived at our home and quietly began setting up their equipment while I sought solace in the warm water of our tub. As each contraction grew more and more intense, my efforts doubled as I went about the work of birthing. Soon I had that unmistakeable feeling that this little one was very close to being born. My hard work was almost done and sweet release was close at hand. Though I was exhausted beyond anything I had ever felt, I also learned I possessed more strength than I thought I had. At just the right time, unrushed, I surrendered to the powers that were bigger than life, and I pushed out my fourth child, my first daughter, my precious baby. My body grew quiet as I took in her face. She was perfect and I felt peace.

All this was freshly behind me now, as sat at the edge of my own mother's bed, holding my one-month old baby in one arm, and my mother's hand with the other. The aggressive leukemia had so thoroughly worked it's poison into every inch of my mother, leaving her too exhausted to open her eyes, swallow, or even breathe deeply. With her whole family gathered around her bedside, we spoke tender words to her throughout the entire night, letting her know she was fiercely loved and that her passing away would leave a deep hole in our hearts, but that she had our love and permission to 'go' now. Her body fought on despite our encouragement, so we patiently supported her as she went about the work of dying. At just the right time, unrushed, she surrendered to the powers that were bigger than life, and her body grew quiet. I took in her face and she looked perfect. Though I felt devastated, I also felt peace.

As I looked down, in one hand lay new life and in the other hand lay life ended. These are the two greatest opposites of life - the coming and the going, with as much time distancing the two as possible. But when you take a closer look, both of these transitions, the entrances and exits, can look very much the same. Both require patience, happening at their own time and pace, not to be rushed. Both require hard work, clearing the way to allow the body to do the work it innately knows how to do. The work of birth is not easy, and from what I can see, neither is the work of dying. Both require blood, sweat and tears, and eventually, at just the right time, both require a surrendering to that unknown, mysterious force that is bigger than life itself.

Back from Brazil

2009-05-05T15:44:00.000-07:00

We're back from Brazil now. If it weren't for the pictures and written accounts documenting our time spent there, it could all seem like a wonderfully imagined experience to me now. Thankfully for us, it was real, and we will have each other and the continued friendships we made with many good people in Brazil, to remind us of everything that was amazing about our time there.

I'm often asked if I'm sad to be back, and what I will miss the most about Brazil. It's a complicated and possibly lengthy reply...

First of all, I'm very glad to be back home. Here is where my life is, as imperfect and chaotic as it is. All things familiar surround me here, and it feels peaceful to be among those comforts. I wandered down to the beach today with my dog, Maggie. As I looked around the sheltered cove, smelled the sea weed and moist air, and watched the half-hearted waves kiss the shoreline, I fell in love with my West Coast all over again. I've visited with family and friends since returning home and have deeply enjoyed, with a new enthusiasm, rekindling those relationships. Being back on Vancouver Island is really being where I belong. It's nice to see other places, some that may even rival the beauties found here, as well as meet new people, creating friendships that will span a lifetime. But here is where I belong... my roots that welcome me back when the adventures abroad end.

As much as I love it here though, there is much I will miss about Brazil. With such warm weather inviting you outside in the evenings, you see many people on the streets visiting with each other, creating impromptu parties as they share a beer and a fabulous story they've experienced that day. They seem to have mastered much better than we in North America, the art of being with people and enjoying sharing time, rather than being tucked away in your own house with the door closed and no time to spare a few words. Because of this social mindset, it's very common to see hands waving to each other as people go about their day, and car horns tooting a friendly “hello” when passing someone they know. They've taken the time to invest in the relationships of their community. I remember feeling like 'one of them' when we began to know more people in our little town and could start to participate in this greeting ritual when we stumbled across our new friends on the streets.

I will sincerely miss the attitudes that Brazilians seem to have about body image. One glance down any beach there and you will likely see every female body type wearing a bikini regardless of age or size, out enjoying the warm sunshine. There is almost more skin on the beach than there is sand. The heavier women don't hide behind bulky towels or cover-ups, but instead unabashedly join their more slender counterparts as they all soak up some sun and enjoy the warm waves. What's more, no one else on the beach bats an eye, either. There's no snickering or rude comments whispered as a larger woman wanders along the shoreline, dressed only in her bikini. What you end up with is women with good self-esteem (and good tans) who are accepted at face value by their society. How amazing is that?!

Where we were in Brazil, there was cheap booze (and plenty of it), scantily clad men and women, and often sexy Samba music playing in the background like a heartbeat of the city. There was every reason for Florianopolis to be a modern-day “Sodom and Gomorrah”. Interestingly enough, that was not our experience. With so much readily available and affordable liquor, people simply enjoyed a drink as they socialized, but never really to the point of being drunk, or even tipsy. It was merely a casual social component that had no taboo anchors attached to it. With casual drinking being nothing of a forbidden fruit, there seemed to be no irrational desire to abuse it. Interesting...

Some of the most beautiful people live in Florianopolis, and combine them with very little clothing, you'd think they'd be an over-sexed, promiscuous culture. Instead, what they appear to have is a society that seems very sexually at peace. Skin, and it's abundant appearance, isn't over-sexualized and taken out of context. Instead of one peek of female cleavage turning an interested male inside out, it becomes so commonplace that it really doesn't warrant attention.

Florianopolis has every reason to be 'sin city', but instead, it's a family friendly, warm social city that we deeply enjoyed being a part of.

There is much more I will miss about Brazil, and many more lessons learned which I hope to incorporate in my life back here in Victoria. But for now, in response to the question posed above, yes, I'm so glad to be back but yes, I'll miss so much about Brazil it hurts.

-Heather McCue

April 20th, 2009

2009-04-22T15:25:00.000-07:00

We recently returned to Curitiba for a few days visit with Luciano. It was great seeing him again, and of course, the kids loved playing with Mel, his gentle but incredibly strong pit bull. While we were there, we were taken all around the city to various points of interest. The large park we visited one evening was bustling with all sorts of people out enjoying the evening air. The kids played on the monkey bars, that also doubled as a work-out station for those inclined. Walking over a little bridge we noticed an odd looking critter swimming in the river we were passing over. Watching more closely, we realized we were getting our first look at a ?. They are a creature that sort of look like a cross between a very small hippo, and a beaver. While the animal was cute and begged for a hug, we were informed that they were wild animals and to not get close to them.

He also took us to a large local craft fair the following day. About the time we thought we'd come near to the end of long line of tents selling all sorts of items, we were informed we weren't even half way done the first of two rows. It was an enormous market. We managed to pick up all sorts of trinkets that looked interesting, and a few others that we bought on impulse and have since regretted. Michael shook hands with a man performing as a statue. The man shifted his body position to give Michael a one-armed hug, and then of course froze there. Michael looked a bit alarmed at first, but eventually figured out how to wiggle his way out of that one. I'm pretty sure I'd have slapped the man, personally...

Luciano had planned to come with us on the next leg of our trip, to Foz do Iguazu. However, a last minute emergency at work required him to stay behind while we boarded the 9 hour bus ride. We hadn't done much planning for this trip, as Luciano was to be our go-to-guy, so we held our breath and hoped we'd be able to figure out how and where to go when we got there, without him.

It was a rather uneventful bus ride, and we landed in Foz after an all night trip. Not knowing the city, we hailed a taxi and made our way to the hotel that Luciano had booked for us. Even though we were there early, our rooms were ready and we were able to plunk down our backpacks and wash up a bit before heading out again. With only a few days to explore a city, you don't waste much time!

We climbed into the same taxi we had arrived by, and took off to the Itapu Dam for a tour. Though we were exhausted and admittedly, grumpy, it was quite a site to see. The amount of water it brings through is staggering, as is the electricity it generates for both Paraguay and Brazil. Thankfully, it was a bus tour so we didn't need to walk around too much. Though the warm sunshine coming through the bus window made it a challenge for me to stay awake for the driving portion of the tour.

After the tour was over, we made our way back to the hotel where I immediately collapsed onto the bed and passed out for a few hours. Rich, who apparently got more sleep the night before than I had, took all the kids who were interested on a walking adventure to find some groceries and a quick bite to eat.

By late afternoon, I was up on my feet again, and Rich suggested a quick jaunt into Paraguay might be fun. Everyone seemed keen on the idea so we called up our cab guy again and off we went across the Brazil/Paraguay border.

Entering Paraguay was quite interesting. I had assumed the bordering countries of Brazil would be more or less the same as Brazil, but I was wrong. Paraguay was a whole new crazy and chaotic world. Perhaps it was just the area of the city we were at, but the impression we got from the small piece of Paraguay we wandered around in, was that it was disorganized and somewhat desperate. Street vendors offered you their wares, but wouldn't take no for an answer. They then followed you around, offering you what sounded like different bargains (I speak even less Spanish than I do Portuguese), until they got tired of being ignored. There was barely any sidewalk to walk on as some of the more organized street vendors had set up shacks to display their wares, leaving a small sliver of walkway for you to pass by on. Of course they were offering all sorts of deals as you walked by, seeing we were not from around there. Even in the buildings that had established stores, they seemed desperate. Owners would beckon you to come into their store, hoping to sell you something, anything. Electronics are incredibly cheap in Paraguay, so I was struck by the idea of looking for a Garmin GPS watch. We asked a few places, but no one had one in stock, though they could set us up in a few days...

We looked for a place to have dinner, as it was getting to be that time of day, but every street looked as crazy and crowded as the next with no restaurants in sight. Police were trying to direct traffic through a traffic circle, a woman was trying to control some chickens she was keeping in a cardboard box, and we were getting pushed more and more into the street. Grasping each child's hand tightly, we crossed the street, located our ever vigilant taxi driver, hopped in, shut the doors, and headed straight back to our relatively orderly Brazil again. Paraguay was interesting to visit, but saying goodbye was easy.

The next day, we arranged to be picked up by our taxi driver in the morning, and to be taken across the border to Argentina to visit the Iguazu Falls from that side. We knew the day would be costly, what with the cab ride and the fees to get into the park, etc. But we hadn't anticipated it being as costly it became... It turns out the Brazilian officials take very seriously the 90 day tourist visa we had. Knowing we were going to be in Brazil for more than that period of time, we were told we'd need to leave the country before the 90 days were up, and simply apply for another 90 day visa. Very straight forward... However, it requires us remembering to leave the country BEFORE the 90 days are up, and by this time we were hitting upon approx. the 105th day. As we tried to leave Brazil for the day, the officials noticed the date discrepancy in our passports, and called us on it. Though the penalty could have been much worse (ie: uh... jail time!), it ended up costing us about $500 Canadian and a bit of time watching them play with paperwork. Not a great way to start the day but in the end, we got through the Argentine border and arrived at the falls.

Our cab driver joined us for the day as we hiked around the park taking in different viewpoints of the immense and breathtaking falls. One part of the Argentine hike takes you right up to the edge of “Devil's Throat”, the main and biggest waterfall of the area. Standing on the walkway beside such a water wonder, the mist was quite thick but a welcome wetness given how hot it was that day. The roar of the water crashing and tumbling over the cliffs edge was deafening but soothing all at the same time. The park was thick with butterflies, and the kids took turns luring them to land on their hands. After taking in Devil's Throat, we hiked around some of the smaller, lower falls and along the way were kept entertained by the little Caitu's that live in the park. These are creatures that look like a cross between a ring-tailed racoon and a long-snouted anteater. They are scavenger animals and at one point, we caught one with it's butt sticking out of a garbage can, rifling around for an empty potato chip bag.

There is a little train that takes you to some of the farther points of the park, and the soundtrack they had playing for you was from the movie, “The Mission”, which was filmed at that park location. We also heard more English spoken on the train than we had heard in a very long time. You can always tell when you're at a large tourist attraction...

After a long afternoon of walking around in the hot sun, it was time to head back to our hotel to put our feet up again. The kids were anxious to try out the weight room, as well as go swimming in the big pool. The weight room adventure didn't last long though... Matthew managed to get himself bucked off the treadmill, and Emily almost followed suit but I was right beside her and grabbed her arm to keep her upright. Jillian melted down when she couldn't reach the pedals of the exercise bike and there was only one weight training apparatus which caused all sorts of uproar, so it was a bust experience. To the pool, we went.

The next morning we took things a little more easy, letting the kids sleep in a bit and have a lazy start. By noon, we were ready to take on the Brazilian side of the Iguazu Falls, so again, we called up our taxi driver and off we went.

We had purchased some boat tour adventure tickets from the service desk at the hotel, which were expensive enough that we assumed also included park entrance fee's. Sadly, we were mistaken. Add to it the fact that, though the park took care of all our transportation needs, our taxi driver felt we needed him to accompany us again, this was beginning to look like another expensive day... But we were there for a once in a lifetime adventure, so we tried to push the cost aspect aside so we could focus on the experience at hand.

We went on a little safari to begin with which consisted of a open-air wagon being pulled by an electric jeep. Our tour guide did her spiel in Portuguese first, followed by English at each scheduled stop. We learned about some poisonous caterpillars that live on the trees. If you touch them you can get pretty sick, so we were told not to touch the trees. We also learned about various sorts of flora and fauna facts that were mostly quite interesting. She caught some of the waning kids attention when she mentioned that there are wild dogs in the forest, and hey, can you smell that?... I think one is near... Apparently they do live there, but I couldn't smell one at the time.

Eventually we ended up a boat dock where we suited up in life jackets, stowed away our electronic possessions in water tight containers, and jumped into a zodiac style boat. We cast off and began our journey against the river's flow, heading towards the large waterfalls. We stopped a few times as we got close to the falls, so we could take photos from a very unique perspective in the river. But we knew it was time to put the camera away when our videographer, who accompanied us on the trip, put his camera in a waterproof contraption, and put on his rain gear from head to toe.

As we got closer to the falls, our boat driver had to navigate the rapids, timing our accent up some of the narrow passages at the right time. I couldn't help but notice how much faith we were putting into our driver to get us both there and back safely, despite moving the wrong way over such angry waters...

We couldn't get right up to the Devil's Throat, as the river water levels were low enough that too many rocks were sticking up close to the water surface which would be a problem for our boat. Instead, he took us to a smaller waterfall, and proceeded to get us right into the falling water, drenching everyone in the boat. To ensure everyone had equal soaking, he went into the falls several times at several angles, getting everyone soaked to the bone. Rich panicked at one point when his eye glasses were ripped off his face by the force of the water. I took a quick glance by our feet and found them floating lazily in the bottom of our boat. I scooped them up before they floated under someone's foot, and Rich was careful to hold them in his hands until the dunkings were done.

We had hoped the tour would also take us to the Argentina waterfall side, however it was not to be. And with that, we began the careful journey of navigating our way back to the boat dock.

The following day was our final day in Foz, with a bus scheduled to take us back that evening around 7:30PM. We stuck around the hotel until we had to check out (luckily they could keep our backpacks behind the service desk until the evening time) and we then proceeded to wander around the touristy streets to do some shopping and get our last dose of Foz.

Matthew managed to find some wonderful rocks that he always enjoys collecting, including a rock decorated knife sheath, complete w/ knife. What kind of parent lets their son purchase a knife, I know... Rich and the other boys managed to purchase several soccer jerseys both for themselves as well as for friends/family. We still had time to kill, so four of the five kids got spontaneous hair cuts, and when we were shopped out and trimmed up, we took in one last sight... The Three Frontiers. It's a place where you can stand on Brazilian soil and look across the river to see both Argentina and Paraguay. A nice way to end our day in Foz.

We weren't particularly thrilled about the 13 hour bus ride back to Florianopolis, especially on the low budget bus we were booked in for. But we hoped we'd be asleep for most of the trip as it was a red-eye ride. No sooner had we begun to nod off after heading out, when we were stopped by the Federal Police for a road check. The driver flipped on the interior lights and the Police boarded our bus. Starting at the back, they eyed everyone up, asking to look inside a few people's bags and see documentation for newly purchased and still in the box items. It seems that the cheap electronics in Paraguay is a huge draw for some people to purchase a bunch of items, and then flip them for a profit (and without paying the proper taxes) in Brazil. Between that and a small drug bust earlier in the evening at their road check, they were out get the bad guys. All in all, it was a pretty quiet and respectful check. Their guns were visible but holstered, and they asked people directly but politely for their co-operation. When they were satisfied all was in order on our bus, they let us go on our way. The lights dimmed again and we all managed to step aboard the sleep-train once more, when lightening struck twice and we were stopped yet again for another road check, only this time by the Military Police... a group of officers more renowned for being bribable cowboys than law enforcers. Three officers boarded our bus after not only unholstering their guns, but cocking them at the ready, as well. They posted one man at the back, one in the middle and one in the front and systematically went through every single persons bag and/or purse. To finish it off, they had most of the adult males stand up in the middle of the aisle with their hands clasped behind their heads, and they did an extremely thorough frisking from top to bottom. Rich's eyes almost bulged out a bit when they hit the lower-mid-region... Oh, how I wish I had a camera close by when this happened! Not surprisingly, they found nothing of interest and allowed us to head on our way again. By this time we were wide awake and eager to see what the next stop may bring.

Thankfully, it was a quiet rest of the ride, minus some flowing bodily fluids from a fellow passenger, but thankfully from no one in our family.

We're back in Florianopolis for the remaining week we have in Brazil, now. We're madly trying to find homes for the two adopted street dogs we took in while we've been here. We have literally gone door to door on our street asking people if they are interested in taking them in. We have some leads, but nothing in cement yet. This issue was made even more complex by the surprising find Rich and I made on a walk last evening. We were wandering down a narrow dirt road, when we looked over and saw four little puppy faces looking at us. They were all huddled quietly together, looking bewildered. We wrapped three of them in my jacket and Rich took the remaining one, and we took them to our house. Our neighbour works with dogs as a groomer, and knew enough to put together some electrolyte water, as there were very dehydrated dogs. She also gave us some puppy kibble to mash up w/ some cream. She figured the abandoned pups are about 1 month old, give or take. So, now we're keeping them here, reliving our puppy days with Maggie, but magnified four times. Vera, the neighbour, figures she knows of one person who will take one, and of a pet store who will take in stray puppies if you get there early on Saturday morning. We'll de-worm them tonight and keep plumping them up until they head out. I haven't lost my faith in humanity quite yet, but I sure wish there was an effective way to pound responsible dog ownership into people. Dogs don't ask a lot from you. A warm place to sleep, some food to keep the hunger pains at bay, some clean water, and an occasional pat on the head. How hard is that to give? And if you don't feel you have it in you, consider that before you get a dog in the first place. I understand life happens and occasionally you have to find a new home for a dog, but there has to be a way to go about doing that without resorting to abandonment, which is the most popular option here, it would seem.

As an aside, we've taken up Brazilian Jui-Jitsu lately and have been enjoying kicking each others butts in class. If I could summarize this martial arts, I'd say it's like very strategic wrestling. No punching or hitting really... the goal is to 'strangle' your opponent or otherwise incapacitate them. Supposedly it's a great martial art to know if you're a woman, as it relies less on strength/weight, as it does technical manoeuvres to trap your opponent.

- Heather

March 28, 2009

2009-03-30T17:22:00.000-07:00

Being in Rio has been a mixture of beautiful sights, warm sunshine, sandy beaches and quaint markets. Despite being spoiled living in Victoria, BC, they aren't lying when they talk about the incomparable beauty of Rio. It's a palette of vibrant green mountains, soft brown beach lines, deep blue skies, and mosaic sidewalks. It's been a wonderful place to visit and we've very much enjoyed our week here, but Rio is also a very large city that seems to have more than it's fair share of crime and violence, making me feel on edge whenever we were out and about, which was a lot of the time. There are aggressive vendors, scary neighbourhoods that pop up when you least expect it, and the constant reminder ringing in your ears to carry only the necessary cash/valuables... enough to appease a robber, but not enough that you'd lose your shirt. All the tourist books we read and friends we talked to warned us of the crime problems that plague Rio. My fears have been unnaturally fed further since picking up a Brazilian novel called, “Elite Squad” by Luiz Eduardo Soares, Andre Batista, and Rodrigo Pimentel. It's a book that shares some of the 'adventures' of the BOCE police squad as they've dealt exclusively with crimes in the favelas. Not peaceful reading... But in spite of all these fears and warnings, we have not had a single problem with crime during our stay, and have not even seen any crime outside of the TV news.

When we first arrived off the airplane, we hopped a bus and located the little bachelor suite in Ipanema, which we were lucky enough to borrow from Livia, Chris's girlfriend, who was coming to Florianopolis for a visit. A bit of a house swap... We got some groceries and scouted around the neighbourhood a bit, but didn't do anything too exotic that first day.

The following day we decided to make our way to the Christ Redeemer statue, despite some low cloud which threatened to hamper visibility. At the base of the mountain, we hummed and hawed about whether we should go up to the top, as the spy-cam at the ticket booth showed a pretty fogged-in Christ Redeemer. A woman approached us and told us she would be happy to take us up the mountain in her tour van for less than what the 'official' train would cost us, plus she would show us some other sites as we ascended the mountain. With another look at the spy-cam, we could see that the clouds were intermittent, masking the enormous statue one moment and letting it go the next. We figured that after making such an effort to bus our way across town to the mountain base, combined with the likelihood that we'd be up the mountain long enough to catch good glimpses in between cloud cover of both the city below and the statue above, we would take the chance and go up the mountain.

We wound our way up and around, learning a bit about some of the smaller sites we would have missed had we taken the train. Our first stop was on a mountain peak beside the

Redeemer statue. From here we could see tremendous views of Rio, stretching out in all directions. It was also interesting to see the neighbouring peak and statue from a close but not immediate perspective. There was a sign posted asking us to not feed the monkeys. We would have happily obliged had we seen any monkeys, however we were told they often take to the hidden trees once the day starts heating up. Too bad, as that would have been exciting to see wild monkeys.

The next stop was the highest point a car could take us before needing to transfer to the 'official' tour van. From here, they regularly shuttle people up to the statue and back down to their original tour van or cab, to make arrivals more organized and mountain top travel less congested.

After that short shuttle, we found ourselves climbing the dozens of stairs required to get to the base of the Christ Redeemer statue. There are elevators, but the line up for them was pretty lengthy, so we opted for some exercise. It was all quite mystical taking in such an enormous work of art as clouds both hid and revealed it's magnitude. The overwhelming effort it would have taken to hoist up piece by piece, assemble and then erect the stone is mind boggling. It really does deserve the title of being one of the modern wonders of the world. The kids thought it was quite something, though I suspect they couldn't completely comprehend the entirety of what it was they were looking at. Quite frankly, I'm not sure I could, either. It's something that defies words, amazes the senses, and begs for some alone, quiet reflection time which cannot happen in a crowd of people or when you're trying to not lose your children in all the movement.

The next day we took in a favela tour. A favela is another word for the shanty towns that line the hills in and around Rio. It's interesting how homes

overlooking the city with ocean views are highly valued in North America and cost a great deal, but here in Rio, because of slave history and later, tradition, many of the 5-star ocean view neighbourhoods that overlook the city are favelas, put together into rather crude communities, and most run by one of three powerful drug lords. The tour was done very tastefully, setting out to eliminate myths, confirm realities, fund favela schools with tour fees, and patronize local handicraft makers, so we ethically felt good about signing up for this kind of tour. We also wanted to help the kids see how things are for other people in the world- to want less and share more. Unfortunately, there had been some very recent violent activity between some feuding drug lords, so one of the favelas was unavailable to tour. The police were there searching for some king-pins, and had all the entrances and exits closed off. Later than night, we saw there had been several killings there that day. Instead, we visited another smaller favela, one not tangled up in that particular brawl. We toured the school that our fee's helped fund, we saw the deep and almost underground neighbourhoods people had developed within the community, we briefly wandered around their main street and observed the regular life that carried on, and along the way heard many of the stories and facts that the tour guide had to share.

Jillian was quite bored by the end, but perked up when the tour guide shared stories about kids. Sadly, they weren't happy stories. One that particularly sticks out is the concept of 'fire cracker boys'. The drug lords hire young boys to be look-outs for either police activity entering the favela or for the arrival of their drugs. When either approach the favela boundary, the kids are to light off fire crackers as a signal to their bosses. Some shifts require kids being awake all night, while others require attentiveness all day, despite distractions that would be quite impossible for a 10 year old to resist. If, or when, the young child falls asleep or become distracted, letting something important slip by them, those boys are either tremendously beaten or killed. The kids on the “night” shift often need to use drugs to help keep them awake, sparking other more complicated problems and getting the kids more deeply involved in a future with the drug world. She also shared stories of some of the positive things the drug lords have done for their communities (ie: improving water conditions, offering some monetary compensation for loss of life, etc.), however she was quick to point out that these men are

n't 'good' men, but simply men who will sometimes do good things when it's convenient for them. A very complicated life, and one I am profoundly grateful to not have to be a part of. I hope our kids learned how lucky they are to lead a free, safe life in quiet Victoria. Their worries consist of whether they'll remember to do laundry in time to have a spare pair of clean underwear, or if they'll enjoy the warm meal prepared for their dinner. A distant life from that of a fire cracker boy...

We have greatly enjoyed the beaches around Rio, in between site seeing. Both the Ipanema and the Copacabana beaches are lovely and bustling. The surf is fairly strong, so we had to be vigilant to not let the kids get out too deep for fear they'd get sucked out, but they have learned from their previous scares so it wasn't difficult to remind them to keep close to the edge (though Matthew continues to straddle the 'safety' fence by regularly going to the outer limits of where he should...). There is never a vendor too far away who is eager to sell you towels, bikinis, shrimp kebobs, cold beverages, sweet treats, sarongs, earrings, henna tattoos, soccer jerseys, etc. I can't count the number of times we had to say, “Nao, obrigata”. However, it was nice to be catered to, even if we rarely purchased anything. Beach life is easy to get used to, and these beaches are some of the best around.

Another day we decided we would enjoy visiting the Sugar Loaf, which is a large, tall rock formation that is in the shape of how they used to ship sugar loaves.

When you arrive, you take a cable car several hundred feet up to the first of two look-outs. The cable car is made of glass, so you have a tremendous (and scary!) view of the mountain you're ascending, as well as the land you're leaving behind. At the first look-out, you can wander around a large walking area, getting a view of the city from every angle. It was there that they offered helicopter tours for those interested (or wealthy enough). We watched several helicopters land and take-off. Some of the kids were sad they couldn't 'support' that portion of the tourist industry, however, after Emily getting motion sick on the bus the previous day (and puking in her hat... ewww...), I'm not sure the steep down dive they did shortly after take off would have been wise, even if we were willing to fork out several hundred dollars to do it. It was here, also, that Jillian came upon a retired couple from Washington state who were finishing up a 3-week cruise before flying home later that day. They were missing their grandchildren, and Jillian was more than happy to stand in as a proxy, lapping up their love and attention, which spilled over to the other kids once the rest of us caught up with our five year-old leader. They were a nice couple who were very patient with all our kids, making them feel special and loved. We always love running into people like that.

The next cable car takes you to the mountain summit, which, from a distance doesn't appear to be able to hold much more than a few people at it's peak. However, once you're there, you see that it holds not only many people, but also several look-out tiers, a few gift shops, and a snack bar. We got to see some amazing views of Rio from atop, and 'get the lay of the land' so-do-speak... We also ran into a local teenage school group who had been studying some English, but were out for a field trip that day. They immediately took to the kids, especially Jillian, and tried to practice some of their English words. It was fun watching our shyer children get swept into a spontaneous social interaction with peers. Outwardly, 4/5's of our children did not appear very 'outgoing' but because I know them, I could see the efforts they made in participating in a conversation with someone when there is a language barrier. The school teenagers took photos of each other posing with several of our children. It took some encouragement for our two older boys to look interested when surrounded by slightly older and very pretty girls wanting their pictures taken with the “Canadians”. It was great to see such bright, happy, positive teenagers who, it turned out, don't come from a 'good' part of town. These were kids who seemed to be replacing what would be very easy to fall into for a future life, for something different, something better.

The descent down the mountain was equally thrilling, and I was grateful to touch solid ground again upon our arrival. My stomach does icky things when I see great drops so closeby, especially when my kids are involved. I felt a perceivable stress release once we stepped out of the cable car and away from sharp cliffs and moving objects that suspended us in mid-air. A great place to visit – an even greater place to get down from... Oh, and we did, finally, see some wild monkeys at the look-out in between the two cable car rides. There was no sign asking us not to feed them, so perhaps they got tired of stingy tourists at the Christ Redeemer site, and traded it in for some lovin' at the Sugar Loaf?

One night we visited a market down by the Copacabana beach. It was three long lines of individual tents set up by local vendors, selling everything from lingerie to drums to gems, and everything else in between. The prices were usually quite reasonable, and the kids were able to find some treasures they wanted to purchase with the birthday 'advance' they received from their Grandma and Grandpa McCue. We ran out of bills before the kids had settled up, so we plan to hit the “Hippie Market” Sunday afternoon. I would take the unique handicraft markets any day over the large, overpriced shopping malls here. Granted some of the shopping malls have free wifi and air conditioning, but still, I love the meatiness of a bustling market place where you can get a good deal, you can support local talent, and come out with some very lovely treasures.

Tonight, Rich has taken the kids to a club soccer game in Maracana Stadium. I elected to stay home with Jillian, as the game didn't start until 8:30PM, meaning it would likely end around 11:00PM, and after subway rides and metro buses, they wouldn't be home until around midnight. Jillian wouldn't last that long, and honestly, I was eager for some quiet time to myself after spending a week all together in a small bachelor suite. After a Curious George movie, several “Guess Who” games, and some hair do'ing, Jillian is now asleep and I will anxiously await the return of my soccer fans. Until then, though, I will do what I do best, which is worry about them coming home safely... Rich here, adding my $.02 to Heather's blog... It was a great game. They have a section of the 90,000 seat stadium set aside for families and the elderly, and even offered a “child find” service where you can register your children and have a identity bracelet put on them in case they get lost in the stadium. Given my track record of losing our children, I knew Heather would be relieved with this service, so we took advantage of it. The game ended with Flumanense winning 2-1 over Botafogo, and about 35,000 fans watching the game. There was much singing and chanting during the game, which continued on the way out of the stadium, all the way to the metro station, and then onto the train for almost the entire way home, complete with a percussion 'section' that banged on the roof of our cart to the rhythm of the song. It was a wonderful experience!

-Heather

March 23, 2009

2009-03-25T15:38:00.000-07:00

It's March 23rd! Happy Birthday to me!! ;o)

It's been an extended party, beginning a few nights ago with a celebration with our neighbour, Chris, and his mom, Margaret, who also shares a mid-March birthday. They came over so Rich and Chris could make delicious pizza's for everyone. Following dinner, Margaret and I both opened up gifts. Rich and the kids gave me a cloth wrap that doubles as a beach blanket and a cover up, as well as a bracelet and an IOU for a dress. Ryan had thoughtfully picked up three large chocolate bars... he knows me well... Chris gave me a little fishing boat souvenir that also holds photos, and in the photo holder he placed a postcard of an absolutely beautiful beach he wanted to take us to the following day. He also gave me a magnet that I've seen in many stores and have wanted to pick up, but hadn't yet. It's a rather round woman sunbathing on a beach towel... Something to remind me of the beaches in Brazil! Margaret gave me some beautiful dangly earrings made out of coconut, and a necklace made out of Brazilian seeds. It was very thoughtful of everyone and I enjoyed both the company and the kindness extended.

Early the next morning, we all piled into Chris's car to head out to the beach. Literally, we piled in, as he has a five seat compact car and there was eight of us. Because it was a hatch back, we put two kids into the 'trunk', three along the back bench, two in the front passenger bucket seat, and of course, one driver (safety first!). About an hour later, we arrived at the base of the trail where we were to begin our 45 minute hike over a mountain to the beach. After a few photo opportunities, we started up the jungle trail, but no sooner had we begun, when swarms and SWARMS of mosquitos descended on us. I've never seen so many hungry mosquitos in my life! To help reduce bites, we swatted our body constantly and moved quickly through the trail, but with a five-year old in tow, we couldn't make optimal 'out run the mosquito' speed. Chris being the helpful gentleman that he is, picked her up and tried to make time carrying her through the harder climbing spots. That helped us get up the mountain in a more timely fashion, and to the peak clearing where there was enough of a breeze to keep the mosquitos at bay for a time. That is when we met up with a stray dog who, evidently, had been longing for love. And not the 'pat on the head' kind of love... the reproductive kind. The dog mistook Michael's leg as a long lost lover and tried to mount it. Poor Michael did not appreciate the attention and tried to shoo him away. Instead, we had a companion for the majority of our hike, though thankfully, the humping ceased.

After a long hike, we made it over the mountain and ended up at a most breath taking beach. The kind of beach that you can only get to by boat or via a long hike, so it weeds a lot of the crowds out (though evidently not the surfers who were spending the weekend camping and surfing). It was a strong beach and we didn't wade out too far. But it was amazing to just be there amongst such natural beauty. A small group of us did some scouting around and found a quiet little lagoon not too far off. With no waves or tidal pulls, it was a no-brainer where we should do our swimming. Jillian appreciated being able to swim and do handstands, etc. with no fears of being knocked down or swept away. After about an hour of playing, it was time to head out as Chris had to work that afternoon. It was about the hottest time of the day by now, so we broke into a good sweat before we had even reached a ¼ of the hike up. And when we weren't in the scorching heat, we were in the shade of the jungle being swarmed by those jumbo mosquitos. A bit of a love/hate relationship with the elements... But all in all, a wonderful experience. Chris even took one for the team when he slipped hiking down the trail while holding Jillian in his arms. In order to not squish her as he fell, he did some fancy footwork and managed to land somewhat on his feet, after bouncing off a few other rocks first. A bit of a flesh wound for him, but overall, his ninja moves spared both of them much injury.

The following day we began our trek to Rio de Janeiro. It began with a bus ride to Curitiba, where we could get a cheaper flight to Rio than we could from Florianopolis. It was only a four hour bus ride, so after purposely booking seats at the front of the bus to help avoid motion sickness for a few of us (no names used to protect the innocent), we began the first leg of our trip. It was surprising when, at one of our pit stops, we were asked to give up our primo seats for some further back in the bus. Rich translated for me that someone was coming onto the bus who could really use the front seats. I was a bit ticked off, as we had sweet seats and were all together in a little pod. But most of my irritation melted away as two paraplegics were carried onto the bus and placed in the seats Ryan and Jillian gave up. I would take motion sickness over no use of my legs anytime. They only rode the bus for a short portion of the trip before getting off, so it really was no inconvenience. I was so busy concentrating on the tail gating bus driver we had that I barely even realize upon our arrival in Curitiba that no one had vomited the entire trip! Yeah for us for keeping our bodily fluids to ourselves!

We were picked up and then spent the evening at Luciano's house – the incredibly kind man who took care of us when we were in Sao Paulo when we first arrived in Brazil. He had BBQ'ed an amazing meal, made a mousse for dessert followed by a birthday cake, and imported some of his english speaking friends for us to get to know. It was a good night and the kids especially enjoyed his dog, “Mel”. Mel is a big bear of a dog, who also happens to be a pitbull. I tend to shy away from pitbulls, but by the time I left, I was giving Mel ear-noogy's and belly rubs. She was an enormous dog and you could see how powerful she was simply by looking at her, but especially when she jumped up on you. I will never own a pitbull, but if I did, I would hope for one like Mel.

After a good night sleep and a very tasty breakfast, we were on our way to the airport for our Rio flight. As we were checking in at the ticket booth, Rich realized he had brought along his Leatherman knife in his carry-on backpack by mistake. He didn't want to lose it so he made the quick decision to check Jillian's backpack and put his Leatherman in it, as you can take knives in checked luggage. Phew... crisis averted. Sadly, Ryan didn't realize he, too, had made the same mistake until we were going through security. After x-raying his backpack a few times, they asked him to remove the knife from his bag. They then asked him if was prepared to abandon it. With few other options, he reluctantly agreed. Sad lessons in life... What was odd though, was my bag made it through security carrying a razor blade... Hmmm....

And here we are now, hanging out it Rio. Let the games begin!

- Heather

March 19th, 2009

2009-03-19T11:54:00.001-07:00

There's been some interesting 'critter' news around here, lately.

The other morning, when George (the gardener) was trimming the hedges around the pool yard, he discovered a small bee's nest built within the branches. Considering the close proximity it was to where the kids play in the pool, George felt it was best to exterminate his discovery. After getting all the kids inside and closing the windows, he started to eye up the nest more closely. Rich went out to see if he could help... because what's better than watching one guy get stung when you can watch two... ;o)

They discussed various approaches they could take, finally settling on the most exciting... I mean effective method of elimination... fire. They fashioned a torch by using a broom stick and newspaper doused in alcohol, and with a quick touch of a lit match, the torch was set. Rich stood by with a water hose in the event the entire hedge caught fire while George carefully weaved the flaming stick through the hedge branches until reaching the bee's nest. Within a few moments, the nest was aflame. We were expecting a swarm of angry bee's to start darting around at any second, but oddly, there were really only a few. How anticlimactic for those of us watching from the safe side of the window. Rich used a bit of water to ensure the fire was out, and George reached in to pull out what was left of the nest. It was an interesting honeycomb type of nest, with little spaces where baby bee's were waiting to hatch. I suppose a nature lesson is better than a trip to ER for excessive bee stings.

We have found several geckos around the house for which we've been grateful as they eat mosquito's which have also been unusually abundant here lately. They are fairly fast critters that can be difficult to catch, despite the kids best efforts. However, Michael was successful the other day, but not without it's costs. As I was closing a window for the night, something dropped down from the window sill and landed on my hand. Not one to let unexpected critters linger long on my body, I quickly shook my hand. Whatever had landed on my hand then fell to my foot, which reacted in kind, sending the unidentified critter across the floor. When it landed, we all moved in for a closer look. It was a gecko (sorry, Buddy!), who seemed no worse for wear, if not a bit stunned, after doubling as a hacky-sack. Michael decided that while the gecko was getting his marbles set straight again, this was his big chance to finally catch one. He leapt forward to cup it in his hands, but it darted away, and then stopped a few feet away. Not wanting to use the same failed approach twice, this time Michael thought it would be good if he could just pin the gecko down by the tail. He leapt forward again, and this time successfully pinned the tail down with his fingers. Michael's moment of victory evaporated quickly as the gecko decided it would be better to part with his tail than his life, and tore away (literally) from the catch. Michael was quick enough to stop the escape and cupped the gecko with his hand (apparently having their tails ripped off can slow them down a bit), but all eyes were on the abandoned tail still twitching and writhing around on the tile floor. The kids now know a bit more about regeneration, but we're still not sure how a gecko tail can move like that when there's no gecko attached to it any longer.

Later than night, I was tucking the younger kids into bed. There is a large bean bag chair in their bedroom which seemed a bit in the way that night, so I picked it up to move it more tightly into the corner. As I adjusted it, I noticed a lot of movement on the bottom of the bag. It caught my eye enough to warrant a closer look. As I drew closer to the action, I realized I had stumbled upon a large ant colony that had very recently sought cover in the bedroom. With their location being disturbed, they scrambled every which way, many of them grabbing their pupae's. In horror, I threw open the window and chucked the bean bag chair outside. I yelled for Rich and together we wiped up as many ants as we could find. Ryan went outside to knock as many ants off the bean bag as he could, and we then found a new home for the item in the garage. We all felt a bit wriggly after that find.

On some of our comings and goings on our street, we've seen some interesting critter finds. We watched a horse get branded a few days ago. The man had a blow torch going nearby, and would heat up the brand until it was bright red hot, and then slap the horse a bit in the area he was to brand, followed closely by the hot brand itself. The horse flinched a bit for the first one, but upon subsequent ones (they apparently need to brand the same spot a few times to get it deep enough...), he seemed to be very stoic about it all. After watching a few “sizzles”, we started to feel a bit nauseous so we decided to move on and continue our walk home. Before we got too far, the horse was set free in a pasture near where we were walking. He ran all around but got close enough we could see his new tattoo. It looked like the branders had poured water over the area, as it was wet looking now, and the horse seemed understandably a bit unsettled. We all decided if we were horses, we'd prefer an ear tag over being branded.

Another time, Rich and I were walking down our road at sunset. Our trusty canine companion, Lucy, had come along to escort us safely. She is not a small dog, but not very big, either... maybe weighing in at around 30 lbs. As we made our way along the road, from off to the side, an owl screeched loudly at us all and then made a swooping dive at Lucy. Lucy fended the owl off, and set about to continue her trot, when for a second time, there was another loud screech followed by a taloned dive. By this time I was fearful we were under attack. I didn't think Lucy could be picked up by these fairly small owls, but I also wasn't 100% sure she couldn't. The owls kept a close eye on us for a while, but we kept waving our arms and making enough noise that I think they decided to move on to another prey. We were glad it was Lucy who came along with us and not To-to, as To-to is a whopping 10 lbs. soaking wet... perfect owl bait material.

That's most of the critter news for now.

-Heather

March 12, 2009

2009-03-12T18:28:00.000-07:00

We've had some really warm days lately, interspersed with some cooler ones. Unfortunately our timing isn't always great when we plan our activities to work with the weather.

Last week, we took a bus ride out to visit Morro de Cruz, which is a local mountain that, when you're at it's peak, provides you with an amazing view of the entire city and beyond. It was a breathtaking spot tarnished only by the fact that we could barely stand out in the sun but for a few minutes. One of the kids placed their face up to a mounted pair of binoculars to see the sites close up but pretty much burned a tattoo of the binocular eye rims on their face. We managed to pick the hottest day of the year to go to the top of a mountain. Whoops...

On a cooler day, we headed to Barra de Lagoa for some beach time. It was perfect weather that didn't leave you hiding in the shade of an umbrella. We enjoyed the calmer waves and warm water. Some of the kids took some more surfing lessons. But slowly yet steadily, dark clouds made their way down the hills towards us. No one else on the beach seemed to be packing up and leaving, so I figured they knew something we didn't. Maybe the clouds would bypass us somehow? Unfortunately not. Just as a premature dusk settled in, the heavens opened up and released the kind of rain that drenches you in moments. Thunder and lightening flashed and clapped all around and the lifeguards quickly whistled all the swimmers and surfers out of the water. Most of them came out, but there were a few die-hard surfers who refused to leave. After sufficient warning had been laid out, the lifeguard ran for shelter to let nature take it's course. We did a quick pack up and ran for shelter nearby. After several minutes of waiting with no let up in rain, we realized we were just going to have to get soaked going to the bus stop. So off we tramped, to huddle with the dozens of other beach goers in the tiny bus stop shelter. We thought that was cramped, but it was nothing compared to the body sandwich we enjoyed once we got onto the bus. I'll never complain about a 'full' bus in Canada, again! Literally, no one could move. It was wall to wall bodies which isn't too bad if you're surrounded by sweet smelling dry bodies, but no... we were all soaked, smelly and sandy bodies holding onto whatever bolted down handle we could reach. What made it fun despite all this was the singing performance by some of the beach vendors who had also caught the bus. It was some kind of light hearted choir that completely changed my mood. It served as a good reminder to relax and not let little things get you grumpy.

Matthew has turned into a Capoeira king. Several of the kids are continuing on with lessons, but Matthew seems to have a particular talent in this area. He can regularly be found asking Jillian to stand still as he kicks one leg over Jillian's head, clearing it by a few millimeters... So far so good...

We're preparing to take one of our stray dogs to get spayed next week. We made a trip to the municipal animal shelter who will do the operation for free, and got all the paper work in order. While we were there, we visited the kennels FILLED with dogs. There were easily 50 dogs in just the area we could see, and who knows how many more where we couldn't. And these were just the few lucky dogs who had been picked up as strays. There were all sorts of breeds, but mostly they were a mixture of several breeds together. Of course you'll never have that many dogs all getting along, so there were regular squirmishes between dogs as they established who was the boss. We saw one older female dog who particularly broke our hearts. She was pretty much skin and bone, was deaf, and had lost almost all her teeth. Someone told us that her owners had used her simply for breeding, over and over again, and then when she couldn't get pregnant anymore, they tossed her out on the street.

We found out the municipal animal shelter has opportunities for people to come and help out on Saturdays, so for the remainder of our time here, we will be spending our Saturdays there. It feels a bit 'less' to be helping out animals when there are people in the world who need food and shelter, but at the same time, you serve where you are in the capacity that is required. This is the best way to help out where we are. And truthfully, I can't help but want to do what I can for these lovely dogs who have been so betrayed by their humans.

On a positive note, Rich is getting much closer to having most of the critical work done that he needs to do while we're here. He's been working hard to finish this project for so long, breaking to play when he could. The rest of us have limped our way along with our weak language skills as we've gone out without him, hoping to cross paths with an English speaker to help us out with buses, directions, and such. As fun as it is to be lost and confused, we're all excited to have Rich join us more often soon...

-Heather

March 4th, 2009

2009-03-04T11:45:00.000-08:00

In the past, I've referred to the three dogs that we regularly find hanging around our front yard gate. Limpy (aka: To-to) the smallest of the three, was taken to the groomer a week ago to be cleaned up from top to bottom (and inside out), and has since been allowed to come into the yard. Here, she peacefully hangs out, free from the ongoing stresses that come from being a street dog. She has now come to expect regular feedings, shade from the heat, cover from the rain, and protection from the several of other stray dogs that roam nearby. She is showing her age, but not to an extreme. I guess we are an unexpected part of Limpy's retirement plan.

She did seem a bit lonely being apart from her trio pack. When we would spend the entire day away from the house, we were told she cried a large part of the time. So it seemed like a good idea to clean up her bigger buddies and invite them into the yard, as well.

Blondie (aka: Lucy) patiently awaited her grooming appointment, which wasn't able to be booked until the following week. However, Spotty suddenly seemed to disappear one day. Being street dogs, we weren't too worried, as they are free to come and go as the wind takes them. But it was a bit unusual because Spotty wasn't one to venture far from our gate.

The date of the grooming appointment came and Blondie had to go solo. She received a good cleaning, much like Limpy, and was then welcomed into the yard where she has been enjoying a reunion with her buddy. I walked the neighbourhood looking for Spotty, calling for her, knowing full well she neither knew our name for her, or the English commands I was demanding. It just seemed like the thing you do when you're missing a dog.

I couldn't find a sign of her anywhere, so we actively hoped that either she had found a new 'forever' home, or was on an extended adventure, bound to return shortly.

Well, this morning, as Rich and the balance of the kids were walking the street over to their Capeiora class, they found Spotty. Only, Spotty wasn't moving. In fact, she wasn't even breathing. It looked like she had laid down for a rest under the shade of a large green tree along the side of the road, and fell into a very deep sleep... one that cannot be awoken from. Some of the kids ran back home to let Jillian, Ryan and I know what had happened. In disbelief, we threw on our sandals and walked to where our little friend was laying motionless.

Sure enough, Spotty's eyes had a vacant emptiness about them, and the flies were beginning to swarm her quiet body. She couldn't have been lying there for very long – possibly from the day before at most. We gathered around her, wondering what had caused her to pass away, wishing she had come home sooner so she could have been able to come into the safety of our yard, and remembering her wagging tail and happy eyes.

Rich headed up to the Capeiro class to collect a wheel barrow and some gloves so we could pick her up and move her to a place where she could be buried, while Ryan went to get a shovel from our home. When Rich returned, he brought back one of the other students from class, to help out. With tender care, Rich picked up Spotty from her sheltered spot, and placed her into the wheel barrow. The other student took a moment to close his eyes and pause before carefully picked up the wheel barrow handles and together, we all made our way to where Ryan had been digging. As this gentleman pushed Spotty in the wheel barrow, he sang a most interesting and haunting song. I had no idea what words he was speaking, but the tune seemed like the perfect sound to respect the sadness we were all feeling.

Another student just arriving for class also joined our procession, and soon we approached Ryan and the deep hole he had been working on.

Rich, again, gingerly picked up Spotty and laid her into the hole. Anyone who wanted to was given a chance to say goodbye to Spotty. Jillian, Emily and I were crying, the gentleman was still singing his enchanting song, and when it was time, Ryan began to slowly fill the hole that now contained our Spotty.

Once she was appropriately buried, we started to make our way out of the park and back to the street. The gentleman who had been so helpful, kissed a sobbing Jillian on the head and placed a necklace he had been wearing around Jillian's neck. It was his way of showing the gift that Spotty was to her. Jillian was most grateful. The girls weren't interested in their Capeiroa class any longer, so Rich took the other kids to class while I took the girls home. We found several flowers we wanted to leave at Spotty's grave, Emily made a grave marker that simply said, “Spotty”, Jillian scooped up a small handful of kibble to spread over Spotty's grave, and I collected a bunch of rocks to decorate.

We headed back to the place where Spotty lay, and with our treasures and decorations, went about the business of grieving. When we were done, Spotty's place looked perfect, and the girls felt a bit better about Spotty's death.

We visited the site once more to show the others what we had done while they were at class. They seemed to agree Spotty had been buried well. It was a tremendously sad thing to lose Spotty, even though she wasn't 'ours'. But we took consolation in knowing she was no longer going to have to live the life of a street dog. She was at peace now.

In talking with Chris, our neighbour, it sounds like one way that people help 'control' the stray dog population is by leaving out poison for the dogs to consume. We do not know if this is what happened to Spotty, but a water container was found right by her body. Perhaps someone had put something into the water with the intent to eliminate her. The water container was dumped just in case. Or perhaps she had some disease that claimed her during the night. Or..... The list goes on. In the end, it doesn't really matter. Spotty has no worries now. Food, love, shelter... all requirements she doesn't need to seek out any longer. Now, she just rests.

-Heather

February 25, 2009

2009-02-25T05:29:00.000-08:00

Well, we made a valiant attempt to celebrate Carnaval with the rest of the citizens of Rio Vermelho, but somehow it just never worked out...

We were told Carnaval ran on Saturday night and again on Monday night. We had big plans to enjoy the Saturday night festivities, but the stomach flu overrode those plans. While I sat on the couch and listened to the heartbeat of the Samba drum from off in the distance, I hoped I didn't come down with the same bug that seemed to have beset so many of the family.

Sunday was quiet with no scheduled Carnaval activities that we knew of. Instead, we took the kids on the 5-hour mini-cruise that Rich and I had enjoyed for our anniversary the previous week. The kids seemed to enjoy the entire day, dipping in and out of the ocean, reluctantly dancing on the boat deck, and seeing new sites. Upon our return to dock, we remained at Canasveiras Beach to enjoy the calm warm water for the evening. Rich was able to get in a beach soccer game and was reminded of the level of difficulty that comes from playing on sand. We could hear some faint Samba drums in the background, but their whereabouts eluded us.

Monday arrived and we ensured we were ready for the Carnaval party, complete with masks, bug spray, etc. We had asked a few people what would be happening that night and we were assured there would be a parade starting sometime around 8:30PM. We made our way to the main road for about that time, but couldn't spot any sign of an impending parade. We asked about a half dozen different people about what was happening that night and where, and received about a half dozen different replies. “No, there's no parade tonight.” “Yes, the parade starts here.” “Yes, the parade starts way up there and doesn't make it down to here.” “There's no parade but a party at the church yard.” and so on... We were beginning to think no one knew anything for sure, despite their insistence. After walking several kilometers in search for the silent parade, we finally gave up. Emily was still a bit weak after suffering from the stomach flu, and Jillian was simply exhausted from the walking combined with the time of night. We caught a bus back to our road and wandered home, sad we couldn't find the Carnaval in our little town.

On Tuesday, we took a bus to the main downtown area on the Island to do some sight seeing and some shopping. All around us there were signs of the previous nights' party... litter, empty bottles, people sleeping on benches, quiet grand stands, deserted food booths, etc. This appeared to have been more party than we had been looking for, but it would have been fun to observe in any case. We also learned that today was an official holiday, so none of the shops were open, and the buses did not run very frequently. We decided since there were no places to shop at, and no regular buses to take us to the sights we wanted to see, that we may as well head back home. We were striking out all over the place...

That night we settled in at home with a movie and some ice cream... something to drown our sorrows in. After tucking the kids into bed, we could faintly make out the deep tones of a Samba drum in the distance. Not interested in yet another fruitless quest to find the Carnaval festivities, we enjoyed the sounds from inside the living room again. To think we were so close to a once in a life time (for us) event, but just not quite able to make it... Part of me wished we were in Rio de Janeiro so we could REALLY take in Carnaval. The parades on TV showed thousands of people in amazing costumes dancing around in the streets. But with a young family, it didn't seem like a good idea. I guess when you choose to live in a quiet town, you choose to live the quiet life. I'm okay with that, too.

- Heather

February 16, 2009

2009-02-16T05:32:00.000-08:00

An exciting weekend around here.

On Friday, Rich and I celebrated our 16^th wedding anniversary by taking a 5-hour mini cruise around the ocean to a few little Islands nearby. The ship was manned by a pirate and his female slave/fellow pirate (she switched in between these roles). As we embarked with several other mostly Argentine passengers, they cranked up the music and began the 5 hour party! There was music, dancing, acting, swimming, touring, visiting, etc. For reasons we can only conclude are from pity votes, Rich and I won a dance contest which we only entered under duress from the female pirate. I have inhibitions about dancing on a raised boat deck dressed only in a bikini... especially belly dancing (yes, I did shake what my momma' gave me... LOL).

The first of the three stops we made was to a quiet coved beach, for lunch. The water was warm and greeny-blue. There are often dolphins there, but the party must have scared them off... The next stop was at a historic island where there were forts and old buildings. It was beautiful, though Rich had to translate all the information the tour guide was sharing and that meant we both missed out on much of the information... Our final stop was not an actual 'stop', but we anchored down in a beautiful area nearby an island, and were told we had about 15 minutes to jump off the boat and swim around. Rich managed to get thrown off the boat by the head pirate, while I took a more cautious entry point from the rear of the boat, off a ladder. We swam around the bath-tub temperature waters, admiring the nearby island and hoping for a glimpse of a monkey. As we headed back to dock, they stepped up the party even more with louder music and bigger dances. By this time, everyone was 100% wrapped up in the mood and even those who had been reluctant to previously, were dancing around the deck. All in all, it was an unforgettable anniversary date and we loved our day together. The kids all survived at home with no major injuries, so that was nice to come home to.

Saturday, to end off our anniversary, Rich had me booked in at a salon for hair highlights, a manicure and a pedicure. I was pampered and poked for a good long time. Sadly, I got really warm at one point, and while she was cutting some cuticles on my fingers, I began to feel unwell. I started to get pale and I knew if something didn't change soon, I was either going to pass out or puke, neither of which were attractive options. Rich had thankfully stuck around to help translate, so I told him in earnest that I needed some help. They got the fan on me and took a break from the pampering, and before long I was as good as new. I was a bit embarrassed as I felt they must have thought I was some Canadian wimp who can't even stomach a manicure. But thankfully, they were very understanding and the rest of the morning went without a hitch.

Saturday evening, we had the opportunity to go to a Capeiora show of sorts. A bunch of more advanced students arrived at the local studio we've been taking classes at, grab some musical instruments, formed a circle, and created a beat for the two Capeiora dancers/martial arts in the middle to do their 'thang'. It was amazing to watch their body control and movements as they smoothly pushed, kicked and swung themselves around the small circle. We will not even begin to get that good while we're here, but it was nice to see how it's supposed to look, after watching our own choppy moves for a few weeks. The event was later in the evening, and we eventually left when both Emily and Jillian fell asleep on the floor beside me. Luckily we only had to carry them one street over.

On Sunday, it was a hot, beautiful day, so we headed off to the Ingleses in the late afternoon for a swim and some night life. The kids loved the calmer waters and even Jillian learned how to tread water a bit, as well as jump up with the slower waves to avoid the waves rolling right over her head. There was a parade of party boats out in the deeper water, complete with fireworks, dancing and music. As the sun began to set, we packed up off the beach and headed a street over to grab some dinner. Carnival is coming up next weekend, so there is a party mood all over the Island. We caught up with a band practising for carnival and followed along with the beat that was pounding through the pavement. We grabbed some ice cream, watched people for a bit, and then headed home on the 7:30pm bus. It was an awesome night. We can't wait until Carnival!

We now know how to extract be bicho de pe from feet. Emily learned her big toe was a bit sore and came to me to have a look. It looked like a callous/blister with a dark centre... something I wasn't familiar with. We called our wonderful neighbour, Kevin, who was both familiar with how bicho de pe's look like, as well as how to get them out. He came over shortly and confirmed that Emily did, in fact, have this little flea burrowed into her big toe, near her toe nail. He graciously set about extracting it, complete with the several dozen eggs that had been laid inside the skin. Emily was as brave as she could be. There were a few tears, but all in all, she did a good job of allowing Kevin to get the problem looked after. I would go into the details of how to get a bicho de pe out, but I'm afraid I'll make the weaker readers feel ill. Let it be known, though, that it involves cutting, squeezing and digging... 'nough said. We know this is very common here, and we are prepared to have it happen again, but we're REALLY hoping it's something we can avoid if possible. Everyone will be wearing flip-flops routinely outside from now on.

Today is going to be a quieter day. We're needing some quiet time after a busy weekend, plus I'm getting over a head cold. Rich took four of the five kids to our Capeoira class this morning (I bowed out due to a sinus headache), and we're looking forward to bathing a stray dog today, in hopes of pretty-ing her up so she can find a good forever home.

- Heather

February 8th, 2009

2009-02-08T05:50:00.001-08:00

We've been 'social' lately. The neighbours to our right, Graziela and Rodrigo, have been incredibly helpful as we've set up our internet, learned about good grocery stores, helped figure out home alarm systems, etc. We invited them over, along with their three year-old daughter, Maryanna, for dinner. It was our first time using the BBQ, so we hoped it would go okay. The BBQ's here are different. They're brick oven-like things that you put charcoal into as the heat source. But man, do they work well. You just place your meat through a spear, set it to cook over the charcoal and let it roast away, turning it every so often. Mmmm.... beef.... LOL. It was great getting to know them a bit better. Rodrigo spoke some English so he and I could talk a bit. Graziela doesn't speak as much English, and I would have loved to talk with her more, but body language filled in some of the gaps, as did Rich's translations.

We have also met another family two doors to our left. While the boys were in the backyard playing soccer, Michael was wearing a Manchester soccer jersey. Someone from the deck of the neighbours house yelled out something about, “Where's that jersey from?!”. The first thing that caught the boys attention was that someone had just spoken to them in English. Secondly, someone recognized a soccer jersey that wasn't from Brazil. Since then, we've learned that the mother is from Uruguay, the Dad is from England, and the two adult sons living there right now have lived in both Brazil and England. Their English is WONDERFUL! We have friends that we can all speak to, now! The sons, Kevin and Chris, both came to dinner and helped out with the BBQ, played some soccer with the kid, and shared wild surfing stories. We have enjoyed getting to know them better as we've gone to the beach together, had Chris come over to help Ryan learn some Photoshop tricks, and just chatted away with them both. They are very kind people who have found a special place in our hearts.

Last week, Chris was kind enough to drive Rich and the older boys around to look for bikes at second hand stores. They found two that would do the job, plus Chris and Kevin lent us one, so we now have three bikes to use. It has been very helpful when we have needed to get last minute things from the grocery store, pick up a garden hose from a hardware store up the street, etc.

Part of our purpose for coming to Brazil, other than to have fun, try to learn a new language, and have the kids see and appreciate another culture other than their own, was to find some kind of service project we could be a part of. It hasn't been easy finding one that would work with both our family dynamics, as well as our location. However, one may have fallen into our laps. There a many, MANY stray dogs in Brazil. Some have been pushed out of their homes when the owners have rented out their home, while some are products of unspayed or unneutred strays coupling up. In any event, there are many strays. We are dog lovers and it's been sad seeing so many dogs hungry, injured, or just plain lonely. We've combined both the need and the love, and turned it into a service project idea. On a small scale, we've taken three dogs under our wing and have been feeding and providing fresh water to them. Because of the potential for fleas and a few other undesirable conditions, we can't have the dogs come into the yard or home, but we feed them out on our road, love them up, and enjoy the trust they seem to be able put in us. There's Spotty (a black and white dog), Lucy/Blondie (a yellow dog whose name creates division in our family... some prefer 'Lucy' because she looks a bit like my sister, Jen's dog Lucy, while some prefer a more descriptive name to make distinction easier), and Limpy (who has since lost his limp, but the name remains). On a larger scale, we are going to try to get involved with a local established dog rescue organization. Chris is getting us more information on that in the near future. The kids are excited to be helping and making life better for some of the thrown away dogs in the community.

The beach has claimed yet another victim in our family. Thankfully, not in a sucking out current, but in a powerful wave that slammed Rich off his body-board. As the wave sent him twirling head over feet, it turned him on his side, pushed a wave right into his ear, and the other side of his head into the sand floor. He popped out of the water with a very sore ear and stumbled up to shore, walking like he'd had several too many. His balance was gone for a bit, and he feared he'd ruptured his ear drum, but a follow up visit to a doctor the next day seemed to indicate not a rupture, but a highly inflamed ear drum. He has since been taking it easy and staying dry. It seems to be feeling better with no signs on infection.

Speaking of infection... I had an exciting bus ride with Jillian the other day. I took all the kids to the Ingleses beach, as we needed something to do and we hadn't been to that beach in a long time. While we were there, dark clouds started to close in. It wasn't a big deal, as we were already wet, but after a while the rain pelting down on us began to hurt. Plus, there seemed to be some dark, smelly fall-out coming from a drain pipe into the beach water. That was our cue to head home. While we were en route, Jillian began to cry and tell me she felt like she was going to barf. With nothing around to help contain the anticipated explosion, I grabbed one of our beach towels. Sure enough, Jillian followed through on her threat and I quickly learned that towel positioning is critical when trying to contain vomit, but not until it was too late. Foul, lumpy 'stuff' was slipping through the folds of the towel and landing on my lap, the floor, my bag..... Ugh... And the bus ride had only just begun. Oddly, the young man sitting beside me stayed put, which meant I had limited space to try to organize chaos. It was futile, so I sat there with vomit all over both Jillian and myself until either he got off the bus, or we landed at our bus stop. Eventually he did get off, but not for an agonizingly long long time. Jillian stood up and we began mopping her off. Then I started on me, and then the seat. Ryan was good enough to collect all the towels we had brought, which I ended up needing all of. By the time we got to our bus stop, the very last stop on the line, we had cleaned up enough to be a little less offensive, and with a quick apology to the bus staff, we left to walk the last bit of road to home. An exciting day for all of us... And thankfully it didn't appear to be flu bug or any other kind of contagious thing. Perhaps some bad cheese we bought at the beach?

Today, it's a lazy Sunday. The sun is shining, the air is damp from a massive downpour during the night, and we're taking it easy in the cool of the house. Emily, Matthew and Jillian have gone on a mission to the local grocery store to get some cereal and some ice cream... interesting combination. Ryan and Michael tried to purchase a hachet at our local hardware store, but the store was not open quite yet. And I'll try to get out of my pajamas in time for some adventure to begin.

-Heather

January 23, 2009

2009-01-23T16:48:00.000-08:00

We're all feeling much better today. We slept away some of our residual fears from the Mozambique beach visit from last night, but we also visited a much calmer beach this morning and had a wonderful time. Lessons learned will remain, but we've replaced some of the acquired fears with some much more positive experiences. The Barra de Lagoa beach is meant for both swimming and surfing, while the wilder Mozambique beach nearby us is mostly for surfing... despite our best efforts to tame it.

Four of the five children have taken some surfing lessons now. We ended up splitting their classes up over two visits, as they quickly learned that surfing uses several less used muscles... ones that tire easily. They all did a great job of getting to their feet and riding out some of the beginner waves. We have some great photos and video we'll upload for everyone's viewing pleasure.

The three younger kids have signed up for craft classes at a nearby art store. The classes are quite a deal (16 hours of class for each child for R$40 or approx. $20 CDN) but the supplies you go through, which you are required to pay for, seem to add up quite quickly. Emily decorated a fired-clay vase using paints, ribbons and some plastic jewels, while Jillian and Matthew painted and decorated wooden boxes. Jillian probably used every decoration they had to offer, filling every square inch with some kind of paint, stamp, jewel, ribbon, glitter, or glue-on gizmo. We have eight classes in total to attend. Though they came out of it with some beautiful creations, hopefully their next classes won't be quite so costly...

With no car to use at our disposal, we use the bus as our main source of transportation. It has its benefits and drawbacks. The drawbacks consist mostly of waiting for late buses, trying to find where exactly a bus stop is (some are not marked by any signage that we can see), and filing seven people through the turnstall on a moving bus that you must pass through after paying your fare. The benefits vary depending on who you're travelling with. If you take Jillian as your companion, you are guaranteed some entertainment. She has no qualms sitting down beside a total stranger, looking up at them with her big round eyes, and after whispering to Mom or Dad asking for the words she's looking for in Portuguese, strike up a conversation. She has made more friends in her short five years than I have over my entire adult life. I envy her outgoing personality as I sit silently content to watch her work her charm. My comfort comes from watching the scenery pass by my window, enjoying NOT having to talk. This is not physically possible for Jillian. We're not sure where this trait comes from, but it's amazing to watch and does help us get to know many more people we otherwise would never have met.

We seem to finally be on top of the ant situation in our house. It felt like no matter what we did, we would get streams of little 'sugar' ants marching in the moment food hit the counter or floor. We would take out the garbage and ants would be dripping off the bag. We would put a dish in the sink and come back 10 minutes later to find ants swarming it. We would sweep regularly, wash dishes after each meal, put leftovers away right away, wipe counters, but we could never seem to get rid of the evil beasts. One day I had enough and took the kitchen garbage can outside to the garage. That was to be it's new permanent home. It's not as convenient, but it seems to have helped. Plus, we picked up a few ant traps and have set them up at high ant activity zones around the house. Combined, we seem to have reduced our ant population by a small portion, and my sanity seems to be intact.

We seem to have found several new critters around our neighbourhood to keep the kids on their toes. Emily has found a few geckos, Matthew has found a dead owl, the older boys found a cockroach, and there are, as always, the plethora of dogs that we meet regularly. Some seem more friendly to us, even escorting us up and down the road. Okay, perhaps they're just hoping for some scraps to eat, but at least they don't bark at us like they used to!

It's late and I should head to bed. Brasil continues to be a grand adventure. I'm so glad we're doing this.

-Heather

January 22, 2009

2009-01-22T18:59:00.000-08:00

Sleep isn't coming easy tonight. I am humbled by the power of nature, and churning in anxiety over the various possibilities of how our beach visit could have ended this evening.

We postponed our beach excursion this morning, hoping to wait out a stomach bug I seem to have picked up. We planned, instead, to stick around home for the balance of the day, and then head out to the beach after the sun's rays begin to ebb... sometime around 4:00PM.

When we arrived at the beach there were some wild looking waves pounding against the shores, but there were other people there already, playing in the surf and bobbing in the waves, so we felt comfortable that the water was safe.

Coming off of a confident surfing experience at a different beach, the kids plowed into the ocean, unmoved by the forces of nature crashing all around them. Matthew, in particular, grabbed a body board and headed out to some large swells, looking for the perfect wave that would send him shooting back to shore. While we found a more shallow area and stayed together, Matthew seemed to creep further and further away from us. Oblivious to both where he was and where he was going, he clung to his body board, pointed it towards shore, and waited for the powerful push of a wave. Being the fly-weight that he is though, he ended up just sliding up and down the waves, slipping further away from the shore rather than closer to it. I yelled repeatedly at him to come closer to us and to get to more shallow water, but my words were swallowed up in the chorus of the breaking waves. I would lose sight of him in between the swells, but no sooner would I begin to panic when I would suddenly spot his bright little pink head bobbing around. Eventually he saw my frantic hand gestures to come towards us, and when he managed to get back to shore, he started to make his way over to where we were at the beach.

Unfortunately, he didn't come all the way towards us, stopping instead about halfway between where he was and where we were. He got back into the water and made his way through the waves to the large swells again, ever eager for a perfect wave.

Though Matthew was having the time of his life, his mother was a nervous wreck watching him rise and sink in rough waters. Even his older brothers began to fear for him, and decided that Matthew, again oblivious to where he was or where he was going, was in danger. In what hindsight would call bad judgement, Ryan and Michael decided to go the the place where Matthew was to tell him he was in a dangerous place. It's easy to see the error of their thinking, now, but at the time, they were concerned for their brother and wanted to bring him to safety.

Matthew had a body board and was thus quite buoyant even in the large waves (so long as he stayed on the board), however, Ryan and Michael, as strong a swimmers as they are, were just two little specks in some powerful and large swells, being pulled and pushed with the yawn of the ocean. If it were just waves crashing, they would likely have had no problem, but with each push that the waves tried to send them towards the shore, there is an equally forceful sucking pull-back current that followed. The boys suddenly found themselves unable to move in any direction but out towards open ocean. Combine being pulled away from shore, with being banged around by large breaking waves, and they both began to panic.

Of course, Matthew had made it to shore by now and was wondering what was going on.

Meanwhile, I was still standing on the shallower sand bar, yelling to the boys to swim towards me, where it was easy to touch ground. Again, my words were insulated by the angry evening waves that rolled all around me. I screamed at them to make their way to me. Ryan was slowly making progress, and would alternate between swimming to me and floating on his back when he got tired. But Michael wasn't making progress and was screaming out for help. Ryan, in turn, began to panic for his brother and was screaming at me, in between waves, to let me know Michael was in deep trouble. Ryan was close enough to me now that I could be more easily heard, so I told him to swim sideways to me, rather than go for the shore. He again screamed for me to help Michael, so I swam into some of the deeper water but was quickly reminded that the waves were in charge and Michael needed to ride the waves to me. I screamed at the top of my lungs for him to swim towards me, sideways, rather than to try for shore. He cried back that he couldn't. In a voice I didn't recognize, I screamed back at him that he WAS to swim towards me RIGHT NOW! I could touch ground and he was GOING to come to me. Ryan eventually got there and we both watched with grave anxiety as Michael tried to make his way towards us. We shouted directions and encouragement, trying to get him to turn his panic energy into something more useful, like swimming to the shallower water.

We watched him roll around at the base of waves, get covered up in their breaks, all the while hoping beyond hope that his head would get closer to us rather than further away from us with the pull. His cries were filled with fear and I didn't know what else to do.

I don't know how long we were there like that. Likely not too long, but it felt like a tremendously lengthy period of time. And then, just like that, it was all over. Michael got just close enough to us that he touched down on the shallower sand bar, felt the sand at his feet and we were able to walk towards the shore. It was with great appreciation that we left the water, weak from fear but also from fighting the current.

So, I am deeply relieved we are all home together tonight. This could have ended in several other ways, most of which would have been devastating. But thankfully, it did not. And now I have the chore of trying to put my anxieties to rest, reminding myself that all is well.

The ocean is alive. Not just as a vessel for other sea creatures, but in a very poignant way. It gives and takes. It pushes and pulls. There is rhythm and timing, but also unpredictable power that can remind you of just how little and insignificant you really are in her vastness.

Much more has happened lately, mundane things that I will share in another entry on another day. But for tonight, I'm just grateful we're all in our beds, all accounted for, all a little bit smarter, and much more humble of our own limitations.

Heather

January 15th, 2009

2009-01-15T12:01:00.000-08:00

We've been having some quiet days out here in our little neck of the woods, feeling the heat and cooling off in the pool in the backyard. School work is getting done (most days!), home is being cleaned and maintained, groceries are getting delivered, etc. The glorious mundaneness of existing!

Emily needed a new swim suit so her and I, along with Michael, set out on the bus to 'downtown' Ingleses to see what trouble we could find. It would appear that you cannot find a one-piece swimsuit anywhere in the town (it doesn't help that I don't know the word for one, either...), so when in Rome! Emily is now the excited owner of a new bikini. It didn't take her long to get used to it and establish some serious bikini tan lines. Jillian was more than jealous at this new acquirement, and spoke often of how suddenly her swim suit was not fitting as it should. Much to her delight, while we were in downtown Floripa today running errands, we found a great deal on little girl bikini's. In an impulse moment, I tried a few on her and she selected her favourite. Before we knew it, she was walking out of the store with a bikini in a bag, and an enormous smile across her face.

Yesterday, we had a wonderful time playing at the beach nearby our home. This time it wasn't a deserted beach all to ourselves, but almost. After asking a local family if that part of the water was safe to swim in at that particular time (sometimes there are dangerous currents that can suck you out to sea... not the adventure we're looking for!), we jumped in and started fighting the waves. What great exercise! Flexing every muscle as you brace for the impact of the wave, jumping up to avoid getting washed away, or conversely, just letting go and allowing the wave to pound you down and then move you along as you resurface. As we enjoyed the ocean, we began to notice the waves getting bigger and stronger. Ryan and I had been trying to master the art of timing to learn when best to get into the swells so we could avoid both a wave pummelling or missing it altogether. With the larger waves, we began to draw closer to the edge of our comfort zone, straddling the line between 'stay and play' thrilling and 'time to get to calmer water' dangerous. We saw a beautiful wave approaching and opted for the 'stay and play'... I'd like to blame that decision on excessive sun exposure. The wave approached and we tried to get into position to ride out this breathtaking creation of Mother Nature. Sadly, and much too late, we discovered that we were neither in the right position, nor able to get into a better position in time. Natural consequences... The wave came crashing right down on us. I was swallowed up first, followed quickly by Ryan. We were churned and swirled and submerged for what felt like several minutes of black panic, though in reality, it was only a few moments. We both re-emerged, gasped for waterless air, looked behind to see if we were in the way for a second helping of what Mother Nature had just dished out, re-arranged our swim suits to fit in a publicly appropriate manner, and moved on to a calmer area of water. We may be slow, but we're not idiots. A memorable beach day to say the least. But we can't wait to go back!

I seem to be having an adverse reaction to the mosquito bites I get on my legs and ankles. At first they don't itch, they just look like a small red fleck on my leg/ankle. But give it a day, two at the most, and the area that is bitten begins to look like a swollen, blistered, weeping mess. I am the proud owner of 'cankles' that burn and pulse. I picked up some antihistamine with high hopes that it would help reduce the reaction, however it doesn't appear to have improved anything, nor has the calamine lotion. What eases the throbbing is just putting my feet up and taking it easy. So... that is what I will do for the remainder of the day.

-Heather

January 11th, 2009

2009-01-11T07:05:00.001-08:00

It's a quiet day for me today, as I am home with Matthew who is suffering from a sore tummy. It's nothing serious (though he's clearly uncomfortable), but he didn't feel up to the venture downtown that was planned. Rich has taken the other four kids with him as he tries to find both a store and the appropriate Portuguese words to ask for access to a specific disk he needs (which he left at home by mistake) to fix his laptop. I hope he can get what he needs, as a dead computer will put him behind in the work he needs to get done. Worst case scenario, we can get someone from back home to locate and mail off the disk he needs, but that wouldn't be a quick fix.

Yesterday was nice. We set out to see what little shops and stores lined the main street in our little town. It wasn't too sunny, but we soon learned it was still very warm! Many shops were closed, as it was Saturday, but there were a few open. We enjoyed an interesting lunch at a convenience store/restaurant along the way. Six of us ordered a hamburger (for old times sake....) while Jillian ordered a hot dog. What we got was tasty, but different. The hamburger bun filled the entire face of the large dinner plate it came on, and had also been fried on the outside a bit. Inside was some tasty sauce and a very flat but large in diameter hamburger patty wrapped up in a ton of cheese. Very naughty but also tasty! Jillian's hot dog was sliced down the middle length-wise, sleeping in a lot of tomato sauce, and nestled in with some carrots and corn. An odd choice to accompany a hot dog, but not unusual here.

After lunch, we stocked up at the local grocery store, as we have learned EVERYTHING closes up on Sunday (minus that American style grocery store we found last week “Angelino's”).

As we were coming home from the grocery store, we were wandering up our little dirt road. Emily, Matthew and Jillian wanted to run ahead, so we let them lead by about the length of three power poles. At that point, they were to stop and wait for us. Matthew and Emily took off like a shot with Jillian right at their heels. They passed the first pole... no problem. The older two widened the gap and were passing the second pole while Jillian was still a few yards behind. When out of a side yard, two dogs ran out and started growling and barking at little Jillian. With both her siblings ahead of her, and her parents and remaining siblings behind her, she was all alone with two angry dogs staring her down. We are grateful she didn't react by running away. Instead, she stood there screaming which may have been a part of why the dogs didn't actually harm her. The moment we saw the two dogs barking at Jillian, we all ran towards her which was enough to scare away the dogs. Apparently the dogs only feel brave when their prey is shorter than they are. Rich scooped up an extremely shaken up Jillian, and carried her the balance of the way home. We loved her up well, lauding her for not running away (there is a high probability the dogs would have given chase and attacked...), and talked about how it's likely best to stay right close to us on the streets from now on. There was no need to convince her of value this new rule... We're grateful no harm came to her.

Speaking of loving people up... I should go be with Matthew. He's still uncomfortable and could use some momma' cuddling.

-Heather

Jan. 9th, 2009

2009-01-09T06:43:00.000-08:00

We're all moved into our more permanent home now. It's beautiful, complete with a family sized swimming pool surrounded by a rock tiled decking and flowering greenery, a large green yard for running around in, a kitchen table we can all sit at after making a real meal in a real kitchen, and bedrooms that keep us very comfortable all night long. There's a grocery store about 1 km away who will deliver your groceries for you later in the day. That will be perfect for us, as we do not have a car, but will require many heavy items from the store.

We found some enormous snails last night. They would fill the palm of your hand. We have since learned they are not to be touched, however, Jillian seems no worse for wear after holding one up by the shell for a photo op last night. Butterflies come to kiss the flowers regularly, and jumbo-jet bumble bee's lumber by looking for whatever the butterflies have left behind. Bird chirps fill the air and the large blue sky wraps us all up in a paradise.

It was strange last night. It was our first night falling asleep out in the more rural part of Floripa. The downtown people and car noises were suddenly replaced by crickets chirping (turns out it was one cricket who could really carry his own... Rich first thought the sounds was a transformer about to blow outside...), dogs barking (and there were several canine choirs chiming in simultaneously!), and owls screeching. In between trying to swat an ever elusive mosquito away from my ear, I listened to the new noises. They brought a great deal of comfort to me, but surprisingly, they also brought a small hint of panic, all at the same time. The comfort came from knowing we were out closer to nature, away from crime and smog and concrete roads. The panic came from realizing we were further away from people, so many of whom have been so helpful and kind to us. What if someone tried to break in? We're not on the seventh floor of an apartment building now. Who would hear us if we needed help? Strange... I am confident the transition will bring with it more comfort and less panic as I feel more and more at home.

Today, the kids enjoyed a morning swim in the pool before breakfast. The neighbour came over to help us add chemicals to the pool to clean it (she has been incredibly good to us), and then we prepared to walk to the beach near by us. It was a great walk, taking about 20 minutes one way, Jilly-speed. To get there, we walk down a sandy trail lined with greenery and cactuses, pass over a wooden bridge, wade through a 'red river', walk through a small forest, over some extremely hot sand dunes, and suddenly you find yourself at the most amazing beach! It stretches for miles in both directions. The sand is, again, like the brown sugar I mentioned earlier. The waves are quite a good size, some of them perfect for surfing, and all of them big enough to knock you over. The older four kids pleaded to have a chance to swim and play in the surf, so once we could see it was safe enough, we gave them the green light. They fought waves, bounced around in the surf, and bobbed up and down with the yawn of the ocean for quite a while. Jillian was content to stay in the more shallow areas after being knocked down a few times.

I looked up and down the beautiful beach, noticing only a few souls a ways down. We pretty much had the area to ourselves. The water was warm and greeny-blue and foamy at the edges. It was the kind of scene you would see on a postcard. We're so lucky to be here.

This afternoon, we will break out the school work for a while, work on some Portuguese, and perhaps get some groceries. When it's a little less hot, we'll likely head back to our beach for some more fun before a late dinner, and hopefully a bit of Skype with friends and family.

All is well.

-Heather

January 4th, 2009

2009-01-05T04:08:00.000-08:00

Things are warming up a bit, again. The past few days the weather got a bit cool, plus there has been a killer wind that was kicking up sand into our eyes and against our bare legs. Between those combined forces, we were not feeling the heat. It's been unusual weather here, even to the locals. Hopefully the strong winds will have pushed the storm clouds far away and we'll go back to the warm weather we arrived to.

We drove by our soon-to-be home yesterday while we were out visiting Ebano's family, again. It was hard to see much, as there is a large wall around the perimeter of the property, but what we could see through a small hole in the wall looked wonderful. I'm anxious for more room. Our 300 sq. ft. home is fine, but it's also starting to grate on my nerves. There's no room to escape or to put our items away, so it's like living in perpetual clutter. Uncontrolled clutter tends to make me louca.

I've been going through a homesick phase. I've learned I am a creature of habit, living a carefully constructed life that I fill with the people and purposes I consciously choose to fill my days. That is how my life in Victoria is built. Here, I'm forced to extend myself and what was my comfort zone. I miss knowing what people around me are talking about. I miss walking into a restaurant and knowing what and how to order. I miss my familiar neighbourhood and familiar routines. I miss friendly smells. I miss knowing that if I'm in trouble, I know how to get help. I feel very unempowered right now, which is something I have fought long and hard to avoid in my life.

I'm certain this is just a part of the process of getting used to another way of life. And when I think about it, life here isn't so dissimilar to my life in Victoria. There are many other cultures out there with much starker differences. I will not wish away this experience, refusing to let go of my 'old ways'. I will, instead, embrace my homesick days, allow myself to grieve what I cannot do/understand/see right this instant, putting it all into a bigger perspective. Four months is too short to spend much time on 'missing' what was and what will be again. So today, I will allow myself to grieve, and tonight, I will sleep it all away, preparing to let in tomorrow however it comes.

-Heather

PS: We found an American style grocery store this afternoon after getting caught in a rain burst. Feeling a bit better...

January 1st, 2009

2009-01-01T13:23:00.000-08:00

It's been a busy few days. We arrived in Florianopolis after a lengthy bus ride combined with a few moments of excitement. Despite being juiced up with Gravol, Emily got motion sick and puked in a disposable plastic “travel bag” I was able to locate moments before the explosion. I had been feeling fine up to that point, but after the encounter, I spent the next several hours trying to keep it together myself and not follow Emily's lead.

After arriving, we toted our luggage the four blocks to our apartment building. Sadly, the map which told us it was four blocks away, was not a topographical one... it was up hill the whole way. Being overtired, shaky from the nausea, and pulling three suitcases and a backpack, I started to have some negative thoughts. Thankfully, those passed with some horizontal, motionless sleep. One good sign is that as we made our way to our apartment, three different people stopped and asked if we needed directions or help. It was reassuring to have people around who wanted to help, but this may also have been a sign of how rag-tag we looked after 3 days of travelling.

Our apartment, which we call home for the next 9 days, is about 300 square feet in total. We have a bathroom, a living area with kitchen, and a bedroom. They were good enough to give us mattresses to put on the ground for the kids, so we all have a soft place to sleep. We have joined some insect families who have been occupying the apartment previous to us. At first we were a bit squeamish about sharing our living space with critters, but since they seem to mean us no harm, we have found a peaceful way to co-exist. They party during the night and we take the day. I have also discovered that I now share my suitcase with a few of them, requiring me to shake out any item of clothing I select, before wearing.

We spent New Year's Eve day and evening with some of Ebano's family, who are renting a vacation home in Floripa for the holidays. They are staying in a beautiful area of Floripa called “Ingleses”, where there are some amazing beaches nearby. Literally, our kids swam in the pool of their home all morning and early afternoon. I had doused them all with 30 SPF sunscreen, and had even reapplied, but the sun's rays are very strong here and most of us have sunburns to at least a part of our bodies. Emily, Ryan and Michael have some small blisters sprouting on their noses and cheeks, as the double affect of the rays coming both from the sky and being reflected from the water were just too much. We now know that we don't go outside long in the afternoon, and that we need to get at least 60 SPF.

Ebano's family was so good to us. Though there was a language barrier for me and the kids, we were all able to communicate well enough, plus Rich was there to translate when needed. For lunch, they barbecued some deliciously herbed sausage and then brought it around to the kids in the pool. The kids looked a bit skeptical at first, as it looked raw, but one bite had them hooked. Each time a new tray of sausage was brought out, the kids jumped out of the pool to scarf down as many sausage bites as possible. We were all starting to feel quite full, when we learned that that was just an appetizer. It wasn't long after that we were beckoned into the house for the main event. We were F-U-L-L by then end of the meal.

We hung out at their home until around 4:00PM, when we headed to the beach. Wow... the sand was like brown sugar, the water was warm like the pool, and the waves were big but not overwhelming. There was a large sand dune bordering a part of the beach. At one point, someone rented a sand sled (much like a crazy carpet used for snow sledding), and you would go to the top of the sand dune, sit on the sled and then slide down the dune right into the water! All the kids tried it except Jillian, and all reported it was a blast. I thought it was ironic to have left a winter wonderland of snow sledding, and replaced it with sand sledding at a beach... all less than a week apart.

After the beach, we went back to their rental home, and relaxed, de-sanded, and the kids swam some more. About 10:00PM, dinner was served (Luc, you would fit right in!), and around 11:30PM, everyone jumped back into a car to head back to the beach for some New Year's Eve firework displays. I ended up staying home with Jilly, who was already asleep, and Emily who was exhausted and who fell asleep soon after everyone left. I enjoyed the quiet for about an hour, studying some Portuguese while watching an English movie with Portuguese subtitles.

When everyone got back home around 12:30AM, there was more food to be had! Some delicious chocolate mousse, some sweet cakes, and other treats. But we were so exhausted that we enjoyed a bit of it and then were ready for a ride back home to our apartment. Because of intense NYE traffic, combined with many road closures for a concert, we didn't get home until about 3:00AM, so it was nice to sleep in today. I just felt sorry for the friends who drove us, as they had to turn around and head right back into the traffic.

We were so grateful for the hospitality that was showed to our family. Ebano's family treated us like good friends, sharing all they had willingly. I wish I was more like them.

Today, we are having a quieter day, staying out of the sun as much as possible. Most all of the shops around here are closed for the holiday, so we wandered a few downtown streets w/o the mash of tons of people around. We found some free open wifi a few blocks from our apartment building, so I was able to check email, etc. while sitting on the steps of a building. I'll have to go back this afternoon to upload this blog entry. In keeping with our quiet day, Ryan is reading an Archie comic, Michael is watching a show on his iPod touch, the younger three are snacking while watching some cartoons on TV that are voiced over in Portuguese, and Rich and I are both typing away on our computers. Nothing crazy to report today.

-Heather

Dec. 29th, 2009

2009-01-01T06:48:00.000-08:00

Dec. 29Th, 2008

We're in Sao Paulo today. We arrived late last night when our final flight touched down. As far as flights go, it was wonderful! The plane was hardly full at all which gave us plenty of space to stretch out and move around. When you're going to be in a confined space for 10 hours, the more room you have, the better. We each took a row and could actually sleep horizontal when the feeling struck us.

We were fortunate enough to be picked up at the airport by friends of our friend, Ebano. There are a lot of us to pick up, and we come bearing a lot of luggage, but we managed to squeeze into two vehicles and then headed to our hotel for the night.

I wouldn't want to live permanently in the neighbourhood this hotel is located (it's downtown and in a busy and loud area), but it was clean and comfortable. The girls slept in one room, while the boys in another. I figured out how to work the toilet and shower, and for the most part, we all slept soundly.

Currently, it's almost 10:00AM and we're waiting for all of our crew to be up and dressed so we can get some breakfast. Then we'll head out to see some Sao Paulo sights with the same kind souls who picked us up last night. Until then, the kids are furiously studying Portuguese (aka: watching Portuguese cartoons on TV... they didn't realize Sponge Bob spoke Portuguese!), Rich is in the shower, and I'm wrapping up my blog for this morning.

Heather

I have some time on my hands before I pass out for the night. We're embarking on an all night, 10 hour bus ride from Sao Paulo to Floripa. We're all pretty exhausted, given that we're still trying to catch up to the six hour time difference. But it's been a wonderful day! Luciano has been an angel to us. He has taken us all around Sao Paulo, acting as our personal tour guide. He gave up his entire day for us, and put up with all our craziness. We have a new best friend. Thank you, Luciano.

Sao Paulo is an enormous city with almost the population of all of Canada... but in one mega city. We saw malls, subways, parks, grocery stores, restaurants, a water show, and a whole lot of people. It's so good to be totally immersed in the Portuguese culture and language. I think it will go a long way in helping the kids and I learn enough of the language to get us by. “Where is the bathroom?” and “Do you speak english?” only take you so far....

The other angel who has helped us out is Luciano's friend, though I cannot remember his name. In any event, he has helped with transportation and has been a kind friend, always speaking more english than initially admitting to. He took Ryan and Michael under his wing, teaching them some valuable slang, which at first alarmed me, but I was informed it was useful, non-vulgar slang, so tudo bien.

I hope the bus ride proves uneventful. I've armed the gaggers w/ Gravol, myself included. I have a couple in front of me who could benefit from a private bedroom, but there is no TV to watch, so that will have to suffice, I suppose. Floripa, here we come.

- Heather

2008-12-27T15:53:00.001-08:00

December 27th, 2008

2008-12-27T15:52:00.001-08:00

Well, we managed to get out the door! The lead up to leaving almost killed me... and subsequently my family. I kind of went OCD cleaning the house... wiping, dusting, vacuuming, straightening, sorting through, chucking out, boxing up, and so on. I was a machine that, if interrupted, could spontaneously lash out in a wild frenzy... In the end, the house got clean and the kids learned to let ticking time bombs simmer quietly on their own.

Our journey began when a few of our neighbours came by to see us off while we loaded our suitcases and backpacks into two vans. It was so nice to see family and friends as we headed out, knowing 'home' is where we belong.

First stop was the Victoria ferry terminal. In a rather obvious spectacle, all seven of us, toting a total of 9 suitcases and 7 backpacks, weaved our way to the ticket booth to purchase our ferry passes. As we waited our turn, a kind woman approached me and asked me if all these kids were ours. When I replied that they were, she handed me three ferry passes and wished me a Merry Christmas! She had over-purchased the number of tickets she needed, and looking at our train of people, felt compelled to turn her misfortune into an act of kindness. What a wonderful way to start this adventure... being reminded of the goodness of mankind.

When the ferry docked, we hopped aboard a Pacific Coast Line bus which took us to the Vancouver Airport. We were early for our flight, so the airport was rather quiet and our check-in was straightforward. The younger kids seemed most excited about going through the airport security and passing through the metal detector. “What about the metal on my pant zipper?”, “What about the metal on my button?”. They seemed reassured to hear that most people have metal on their pants and somehow can still keep their pants on and take a flight simultaneously. Again, security was a rather simple experience with everyone passing through without complication (aside from a minor backpack search for mom... “Sorry about the juice box, sir”).

With so little hold-ups and weather that co-operated, we arrived at our boarding gate with a few hours to spare. It was time to bust out the snacks and games... We also took the opportunity to give the kids a quick lecture on appropriate and inappropriate (read felony) jokes when you're in an airport or on a plane, and how the repercussions of ignoring our advice could dramatically alter their trip plans... forever...

And here we wait... Rich is reading a magazine, Ryan is watching a show in his iPod touch, Michael is reading an Archie comic, Matthew is snacking and playing on his Nintendo DS, Emily is snacking and watching the news on the airport TV, and Jillian is engaging every human being in our little area, sharing family secrets with perfect strangers, making friends and showing off her sticker earrings. I've managed to kill off an hour trying to write this blog entry, in between making sandwiches, fishing Jilly out from under some seats, and mediating a game of “Guess Who”. Life is good.

-Heather

Philosophy 290 Mid-term Essay

2008-10-20T15:04:00.000-07:00

Philosophy 290
Death and Dying

At the opening of Chapter II in The Death of Ivan Ilyich, Tolstoy characterizes Ivan's life as “simple” and “ordinary”, and goes on to suggest that because of this fact, Ivan's life was the “most terrible”. In this paper, I will refer to Michael de Montaigne to refute this position.

According to Montaigne in his essay, That To Study Philosophy is to Learn to Die, there are three things we should do in order to be able to extract meaning from life. First, we should live without regrets. Second, we should seek happiness in our day to day activities. And finally, as we transcend our fear of our inevitable death, we no longer need to distract ourselves from that inevitability and therefore are more able to embrace life's reality moment by moment. I will explore each of these points and contrast them with the “most terrible”, “simple” and “ordinary” life of Ivan Ilyich.

To the outside observer, Ivan appeared to carve out a comfortable life for himself, counting a middle-class home, a wife and children, and a respected career among his successes. He performed the way someone in his social and professional position should, trying to avoid unnecessary attention. Ivan's life initially appeared to be without obvious regrets. However, as the story unfolds, regrets abound.

Ivan strained to appear wealthy enough to merit the lifestyle which he felt he deserved. He regretted the marriage he had entered into rather casually, a decision that ended up cramping his life. He turned his nose up at local medical doctors when he began to have health challenges. Only those who had “celebrity” status were good enough for him. Ivan spent the balance of his life stretching for something always beyond his grasp, unsatisfied with his own lot in life. These regrets were a large part of the torment that he languished in as he prepared to die, climaxing in the moment when he finally understood he had misspent his entire lifetime, thus creating the ultimate regret and the most painful sting before death. Had Ivan “settled” for a more simple and ordinary life, seeking less for what he did not have and valuing more of what he did, much of the turmoil that infected his life and those connected to him could have been calmed as he lived and finally prepared to die.

According to Montaigne, “... I am at all hours as well prepared as I am ever like to be, and death, whenever he shall come, can bring nothing along with him I did not expect long before. We should always, as near as we can, be booted and spurred, and ready to go, and, above all things, take care, at that time, to have no business with any one but one's self.” If we live a life that is mindful, making conscious decisions rather than weakly plodding through, we can approach life and subsequently, death, with a conscious void of regret. This is, according to Montaigne, one of the tools through which we create meaning in life, and thus meaning in death.

Another look into Ivan's life and we see that he lived an existence full of preoccupations and muted bliss. He could have been lapping from the very bowl of the deepest pleasures life had to offer, but instead of recognizing and enjoying that moment, he busied his mind with the distracting chatter of anticipating what better thing might come next, or what better thing he may be missing out on that very moment. By not living in that one moment and recognizing the value of what lay right before him, the best of life slipped through his fingers as he reached out his hand to grope around for something more. When the current moment is all we really have in life, to mindlessly surrender that, our only true possession, is to invite meaningless into our lives.

Montaigne spoke about finding happiness by engaging in simple and ordinary day to day activities that we find meaningful. “I would always have a man to be doing, and, as much as in him lies, to extend and spin out the offices of life; and then let death take me planting my cabbages, indifferent to him, and still less of my garden's not being finished.” Joy can be found in the most mundane activities, if that activity is something we consider to hold intrinsic value. When we fill our days with ordinary but edifying tasks, however simple they may be, we slowly build up a life replete with meaning, culminating in a life well spend and a death we can approach with no regrets. No activity is wasted if it has personal value.

Finally, glancing back to Ivan, we learn that he lived life disconnected with the idea that he would most assuredly die. Death was always something abstract to him; something that happened to other people whom he read about in the paper while he, himself, enjoyed good health and vitality. As his health deteriorated enough that he began to recognize he was in fact mortal, even then he could not become truly personal with death. He rigourously tried to ignore it's reality until the pains of his dying overwhelmed him so that his temporality became a part of his every thought. It was at this point that he turned in death's direction and despised it vehemently. He wrestled with it's far reaching span, refusing to find peace in it's approach.

“...'Tis the condition of your creation; death is a part of you, and while you endeavor to evade it, you evade yourself.” (Montaigne). As Ivan went about mindlessly ignoring his own mortality, his life lost all meaning, for it is only under the canopy of recognizing our existence as fleeting, that the moments within that existence become valuable.

“The utility of living consists not in the length of days, but in the use of time; a man may have lived long, and yet lived but a little. Make use of time while it is present with you. It depends upon your will, and not upon the number of days, to have a sufficient length of life. Is it possible you can imagine never to arrive at the place toward which you are continually going?” (Montaigne). It would appear that Ivan lived a relatively long life, yet lived only a little. Others could have lived a fraction of Ivan's existence and yet lived more fully and mindfully. In an existence of dissatisfaction and irritation, he whittled away each year he had, ending with a slap of reality that though he had ignored his ultimate demise, it had methodically approached closer everyday since his first breath. Ivan spent his life avoiding and then fearing death, while according to Montaigne, a life of meaning is one that looks at death, becomes familiar with it's reality, and then transcends it's fears.

In conclusion, I would argue that is was not because Ivan's life was “simple” and “ordinary” that made it “most terrible”. Montaigne maps out ways to achieve a meaningful life which can be applied to a person in any circumstance, though possibly more easily applied to someone not caught up in complexity but mindfully basking in the mundane. I surmise that what made Ivan's life “most terrible” was his mindlessness and lack of perspective. In his haste to get on with living, and thus his coming closer to death, he set aside the weightier matters of life and replaced them with common distractions. As he stepped nearer his worst fear, one that he wouldn't even consider, he dug in his heels and at that moment, lost his footing. “Life in itself is neither good nor evil; it is the scene of good or evil, as you make it. And if you have lived a day, you have seen all: one day is equal and like to all other days. There is no other light, not other shade; this very sun, this moon, these very stars, this very order and disposition of things, is the same your ancestors enjoyed, and that shall also entertain your posterity.” (Montaigne). True, Ivan's life was simple and ordinary, but the scene he created on the stage of his existence was what caused it to be “most terrible”.

-Heather McCue

The Impact of Mass Media on Females

2008-08-20T16:56:00.001-07:00

Written Assignment #1: Sociology Class

From a very early age, young children, especially females, are heavily influenced by the mass media of their society. Even before the average young girl has learned how to read, she has already been heavily influenced by various forms of media such as television programs, television advertisements and symbols displayed in advertisements in her environment. She learns the socially acceptable norms of what she should look like, act like, and what career path, if any, would be most appropriate for her due to her sex. The impact of this gender socialization has both short and long term negative affects on the majority of females.

In considering the impact that television programs have on children, we first must look at how prevalent television viewing is in the average home to see how big a role this plays in socialization. According to research by Vandewater, Bickham, Lee, Cummings, Wartella and Rideout (2005:A), the television is on for approximately six hours a day in most American homes, making television viewing the activity that children spend the majority of their time doing, except for sleeping (2005:562). They found that 39% of children between the ages of 0 and 4, and 29% of children between the ages of 5 to 6 years old live in households where the television is on always or most of the time, even if no one was watching it (2005:573). They conclude that, among other things, television viewing plays a major role in the socialization of children's lives.

So what are children viewing as they log so many hours captivated by this form of media? According to research by Potts (2001), "...viewers are deluged with action-adventure cartoons that feature tough men, female characters appear only as sidekicks" (2001:2). She quotes Innesss who claims that "women are a minority in the Saturday morning cartoons, and those who do appear are sexualized and marginalized; viewing action-adventure cartoons, you would never deduce that women make up over half the world's population" (2001:2). Her research goes on to laud one program, despite the proliferation of shows such as "Dexter's Laboratory", "Johnny Bravo", "Hey, Arthur!", and other male-focused programs. Potts points out that "The Powerpuff Girls" is one attempt to turn the tides of traditional children's programming, as it "provides positive female media images that are not based on sex appeal" (2001:1), and "reinforces the notion that girls, just like boys, are capable of having strong and assertive personalities and can be anything they want to be" (2001:7). Programs like this are a good start in helping young girls identify non traditional roles they could pursue. Unfortunately these shows only make up a small fraction of their television viewing experience, leaving much programming still dedicated to the building up of males and marginalization of females.

Vanderwater, Park, Huang and Wartella (2005:B) did another study discussing television viewing in relation to parental controls. They learned that the most effective way to reduce television screen time for young children was to set time rules regarding usage rather than program rules. If both rules were combined, parents would have a large impact on both the reduction of television viewing time, as well as better control over the nature of the programs watched, thus reducing the affects of this form of media in the lives of their children.

Print-based media also plays a significant role in how young girls form opinions about themselves. Bedtime stories read to young children are often based on females needing a male for protection (Snow White), for escape to a better life (Cinderella), for financial stability (Rumpelstiltskin), or for personal fulfillment (The Little Mermaid). In an article written by Franzwa, she quotes Suelze who argues that "the image of woman in media as varied as toy catalogs, TV commercials, and children's books portraying women as nonworking housewives discourages women from entering nontraditional fields of employment" (1974:105). Even when families or individuals try to eliminate traditional gender socialization in the raising of children, "the culture (particularly through the mass media) continues to saturate all of us with traditional images" (1974:105).

As these same young girls reach teenage-hood, they often begin reading popular culture magazines which are inundated with articles and advertisements that tell girls how to look, what to wear, which diets to try, etc. In a study by Andersen and DiDomenico (1992), they surveyed the top 10 magazines read most by young men 18 to 24 years of age, as well as the top 10 magazines read most by young women of the same age. It was found that in the top 10 magazines for young men, there were 5 diet advertisements or articles, and 17 shape advertisements or articles. In the top 10 magazines for young women, there was a dramatic increase compared to the males in the number of diet advertisements or articles, rising from 5 to 56. The shape articles showed a much smaller increase, rising from 17 to 20. It is noteworthy that the differences between the ratio of the male and female diet advertisements/articles in the magazines correlate almost exactly with the ratio of males to females who suffer from eating disorders. Print-media sends significantly different messages to males than it does to females.

Durkin and Paxton (2002) also approached the topic of how media images affect female body image. Through experiment, they determined that after viewing images of idealized females, the girls in their study (one group in grade 7 and the other group in grade 10) experienced lower body satisfaction and overall mood. As well, they experienced higher levels of depression and anxiety, though more so in the older group of girls than the younger. Durkin and Paxton attributed the difference between the two group reactions to possibly stemming from the older girls feeling like they may have 'failed' to meet the expectation of the idealized female images they've been saturated with since childhood. "The most deleterious framework of unrealistic body shape expectations may be set in childhood and young adolescence, but the full impact on body satisfaction may not occur until later" (2002:1002). Overall, their findings suggest that the idealized female images found in media are powerful in creating concern over the middle adolescent girl's mental well-being.

It is clear that the various forms of media in North America help to shape and mould the female culture. Beginning with young girls, following them through adolescence and into adulthood, females are taught how they should look, feel and act. When females fail to live up to those impossible ideals, it often results in both physical and mental harm to themselves. Trying to counter this influence is difficult, as the media mindset touches so much of our everyday lives. But as media begins to more regularly portray images of healthy and realistic women, and as females begin to see more positive role models in their lives, hopefully this will begin to change the attitudes of society, one mind at a time.

By Heather McCue

References:

Andersen, Arnold E., and Lisa DiDomenico. 1992. “Diet Vs. Shape Content of Popular Male and Female Magazines: A Dose-Response Relationship to the Incidence of Eating Disorders?.” International Journal of Eating Disorders 11:283-287.

Durkin, Sarah J., and Susan J. Paxton. 2002. “Predictors of vulnerability to reduced body image satisfaction and psychological wellbeing in response to exposure to idealized female media images in adolescent girls..” Journal of Psychosomatic Research 53:995.

Franzwa, Helen H. 1974. “Working Women in Fact and Fiction.” Journal of Communication 24:104-109. http://tiny.cc/r0nMv

Potts, Donna L. 2001. “Channeling girl power: Positive female media images in "The Powerpuff Girls."..” Simile 1:N.PAG.

Vandewater, Elizabeth A, David S Bickham, et al. 2005. “When the Television Is Always On: Heavy Television Exposure and Young Children's Development.” American Behavioral Scientist 48:562-577. A

Vandewater, Elizabeth A, Seoung-Eun Park, Xuan Huang, and Ellen A Wartella. 2005. “"No -- You Can't Watch That": Parental Rules and Young Children's Media Use.” American Behavioral Scientist 48:608-623. B

The Meaning of Work: Motherhood

2008-08-20T16:54:00.000-07:00

Written Assignment #2: Sociology class

Most often when you are introduced to someone new, the conversation follows a typical pattern. First, there's an exchange of names and pleasantries, often followed next by the question, "So, what do you do for work?". Learning what people do for work is typically a way to evaluate how much prestige we should bestow upon that person, or conversely, if we should simply weed out this potential relationship because it offers us no personal gain or networking value (Boley, 2000). Typically, we will hold onto the business card of a lawyer or that of a CEO of a large company, than of a janitor or telemarketer. Because this mindset is so prevalent, studies have been conducted to illustrate that there really is an actual rating system of prestige that we, as a society, have given numerous occupations. A quick glance over the results shows that the higher the income and more specialized the career, the higher the prestige which is allotted to it (Gorder and Frank, 2007).

But does holding a lower prestige job really warrant such a negative label? Occupations near either ends of the prestige scale offer some of the very same extrinsic rewards. Though differing in quantity, both offer the worker an income, a means to contribute to a pension however large or small, as well as possible extended health benefits. Similarly, both have comparable intrinsic rewards including things like the opportunity to interact with other adults/peers, opportunities for workers to feel like they're contributing to both the economy and society, and the chance to build up their resume with more experience so they can one day climb another rung on the corporate ladder. Perhaps there is less difference between these types of jobs than we initially realize.

Then what of a job that offers no salary, no health benefits, no pension building opportunities, no resume enrichment? A job that, instead, is highly demanding yet often mundane and tedious. One that asks for your time and energy 24/7, and occasionally leaving you feeling isolated from the outside world with little opportunity for meaningful contact with adults/peers. How might that job rate on the prestige scale? Who would be clambering for such a position?
Parenthood is considered by many to be one of those types of careers- a non-standard job that is not even included on the prestige scale mentioned above. With such seemingly little payoff for investment in this occupation, why are people willingly taking on this work? What makes this work meaningful if, by all other measures, it falls short?

For the purpose of this paper, I will be focusing exclusively on stay-at-home parents who choose to leave behind wage labour and the career world, in exchange for raising their children full time. Because most often, the parent who stays home with the children is the mother (Downing, 200), I will further narrow the topic to stay-at-home mothers. Though it should be mentioned that the contributions that stay at home fathers make is recognized and appreciated, especially given the unique stigmas they encounter in that job (Doucet 2004).

Never a black and white issue, the decision to stay home to look after her children, if she even economically has this as a choice, can be a difficult one with many trade-offs to consider. Leaving behind a familiar master status, potential career advancement, valuable income, and often a sense of self-worth, can rest heavily on a woman as she weighs out the alternatives to a professional career (Daniel, 2006) (Dillaway and Pare, 2008). But for those who are in a position to make a choice, the benefits of staying home cannot be ignored.

First of all, the decision to stay at home can bring with it some less obvious financial savings as the various roles and jobs that a stay at home mother performs no longer need to be contracted out to others (Pediatrics, 2008). According to studies done by Stacey Rubin and H. Ray Wooten (2007), they found that there were personal benefits for the mother when she chose to stay home, such as the personal satisfaction knowing that she wasn't 'missing out' on her child's life or milestones. She felt very good about being around during her child's formative years and being able to influence her child in a way that would be difficult to do if she had been at work. Rubin and Wooten also found there were benefits to the family, too. They learned that the children benefited from having a parent's time, and couples benefited from having more time together. There was more opportunity to build memories, time to “hang out”, to participate in fun activities, and have both quantity time and quality time as they formed close relationships.

The consequences of having a parent, typically the mother, choose to stay home with her children can be both positive and negative. She may not be seen as a 'success' in the eyes of society by giving up career potential, income for her family, or more mind stimulating days. She may, on occasion, experience frustration with her decision to stay at home, experience feelings of failure due to a lack of any immediate appreciation for the tasks she has taken on, and face exhaustion from the constant demands on her time. But if we look at the bigger picture, we see that what she does have is the opportunity to largely raise and influence a part of a future generation, the children that she and her partner have chosen to raise. By virtue of her staying at home with them, she is the primary influence on her young children, helping to instill in them the ideals and morals that they, as a family, value most and that contribute to society at large. She is 'there' as a witness in her children's lives for the many things they do and accomplish in life. Mundane conversations of a child simply asking "Mom?" are, at the same time, priceless moments when she is there to reply "Yes?". It is really the little things like this that add up and over time, become paramount. Though there is such a thing as quality time, often times what matters more is quantity time - simply being there beside a child as they navigate through life (Snyder 2007).

Raising children is not easy, immediately gratifying, or a financially prosperous venture. The prestige granted to a woman who answers the question, "What do you do for work?" with a reply of, "I'm at home raising my children," may not match that of what a doctor would receive. But in the end, she makes her decision after considering what is best for her and her family. She knows that the meaning of her work cannot be measured in dollars and cents, but rather, in the satisfaction received from the warmth of a gentle hug from her child who pushes the hair away from her ear to whisper a deep secret about nothing in particular.

-Heather McCue

References:
2008. “STUDY: MOM'S MARKET VALUE AT $117,000..” Pediatrics 122:12.

Boley, Robert M. 2000. “The Power of Networking..” Assessment Journal 7:4.

Daniel, Lincia. 2006. “To go to work or stay at home? The mother of all parenting debates. (Cover story).” British Journal of Midwifery 14:494.

Dillaway, Heather, and Elizabeth Pare. 2008. “Locating Mothers.” Journal of Family Issues 29:437-464.

Doucet, Andrea. 2004. “"It's Almost Like I Have a Job, but I Don't Get Paid": Fathers at Home Reconfiguring Work, Care, and Masculinity..” Fathering: A Journal of Theory, Research, & Practice about Men as Fathers 2:277-303.

Downing, Jane. 2000. “Just a Feminist Mother.” Social Alternatives 19:57-62.

Goyder, John, and Krislyn Frank. 2007. “A Scale of Occupational Prestige in Canada, Based on NOC Major Groups.” Canadian Journal of Sociology/Cahiers canadiens de sociologie 32:63-83.

Rubin, Stacey E., and H. Ray Wooten. 2007. “Highly Educated Stay-at-Home Mothers: A Study of Commitment and Conflict..” Family Journal 15:336-345.

Snyder, Karrte Ann. 2007. “A Vocabulary of Motives: Understanding How Parents Define Quality Time..” Journal of Marriage & Family 69:320-340.

Missing My Mom

2008-06-22T06:55:00.000-07:00

Seven years ago today, I lost my mom to acute myeloid leukemia. It was a quick and aggressive battle that ended quietly early one morning as the sun gently crept up over the mountains and filled her bedroom with it's rays. Her last sigh escaped her lips and floated effortlessly into the air around us. Always one to want to be with her family, she was surrounded by her husband and children, all sending her off on her new adventure with our love and support.

In some ways, it feels like she's been gone a very long time. I guess seven years can be looked upon as a very long time. Over the course of the past few years, I find I'm not thinking about her everyday, anymore. The dull ache that I carried around w/ me regularly, has left me as my constant companion, instead returning only every now and again. I visit her grave less and feel less guilty about that. My love and appreciation for her has not diminished, of course, however life, being what it is, keeps moving onward and we're all along for this mortal ride that keeps us busy and distracted. In the days, weeks and years since her passing, I've been busy raising children, going back to school, running a small business, etc. All things that occupy the mind and calendar. So, somehow seven years have snuck by and I realize I haven't seen my mom's face, except for her pictures in my house, for a very long time. Realizing how long it has been, makes me realize how much I've healed. Though the hole remains, my soul has been busy mending.

However, in some ways it feels like she was just here. I think about how she was just recently my 'go-to' girl when I had concerns as I started raising my own family, and how willing she was to help me out when the responsibilities of motherhood got to be overwhelming at times. She was my advocate when I considered homeschooling, a part of my support for my homebirths, a person on “my” side and who loved me w/o borders. As I band together w/ my two younger sisters as they begin having their own families, I realize what they're missing out on, what I should be providing for them in her stead, and how much I wish she were still here for all of us. If I hear her voice as I watch old home movies, it's like hearing an old friend that you haven't seen for a while, but you could just pick up a conversation with where you left off. There are plenty of memories of her still alive and well that bounce around inside my head reminding me that she was just here, just a blink of an eye ago, she was snuggling my newborn against her cheek enjoying the smell of my daughters 'newness'. She was just here, sharing her thoughts and tears, not always as mother to daughter, but sometimes as woman to woman. We had stumbled into a new dimension in our relationship, meant to be enjoyed for years to come, but lasting only the last few years of her life. Better late than never, though.

I'm grateful that there is remembering and forgetting. I'm grateful that there is still pain and healing. It reminds me of where I've come from and overcome in my life, while still allowing me the opportunity to seek happiness and joy in the present and future.

I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything you were.

-Heather