A Difference in Cultures

Every time we move, we become part of a different culture.

No, we don’t become a part of our host culture; that’s not what I’m talking about. We adapt to some degree; that’s just a part of showing respect, and it is necessary. But the host culture isn’t the only new culture to which we are exposed.

Each embassy also has a different culture. Sure, they all fit under the umbrella of “American,” but there are nuances.

The U. S. Mission to Egypt was so large—it was the largest permanently staffed embassy in the world during our time there—that much of it felt impersonal. There were people there who cared, but overall it felt institutional. Although most employees who worked within the embassy compound at least recognized each other, it was not expected that everyone would know everyone else, especially with mission personnel divided among at least three large compounds. Subgroups and cliques formed; my primary social group became non-mission expats, though it included a few embassy wives whom I met through non-embassy activities such as Maadi Community Church or the Maadi Women’s Guild. Overall, my impression of the embassy was that it was a large, professional institution, with a professional culture that encouraged individuals to be friendly.

The U. S. Mission to Cambodia was much smaller and more personal. The employees, for the most part, worked on one mid-sized compound; most of them knew each other, or at least could provide a name and section (office) to go with each face. From what I recall, the Community Liaison Office was more active, and there were more “everyone’s invited” parties and gatherings hosted by individual mission members than there were in Cairo. Again, however, my primary social group became non-mission expats, once I was able to find them. My impression of the embassy was that it was a professional, but friendly, institution.

The U. S. Mission to Kosovo, from what I can tell, is even smaller and more personal than the Mission to Cambodia. Currently there are two compounds, but they’re within walking distance of each other, and most mission personnel live near each other, though there’s beginning to be more of a separation into two distinct residential areas. Everyone knows everyone else—they can tell you name, section, spouse, kids, pets, home state if not hometown, often previous posts, of just about everyone else. Everyone knows who’s departing—and who’s arriving—this summer. I lost count of how many people, upon being told that we were new to post, said, “Oh, you must be the Smiths*! Good to meet you!” I haven’t had the opportunity yet to meet any non-embassy people, but I have attended six social events (only two of them semi-official) organized by embassy personnel in the four weeks that we’ve been here, and we’re going to another one tomorrow. From what I’ve seen so far, the CLO is trying to be active and provide social events and outings, though I’m not sure how many people participate in those activities (we haven’t been able to participate in any of those yet, though I’m hoping to in future). Overall, my impression of the embassy is that it is a very friendly, yet still professional when it needs to be, community.

Part of any culture is the prevailing attitude toward children, and this aspect of culture also differs among embassies.

I didn’t really notice Embassy Cairo’s professional attitude toward children, as Alexa was born after I’d already begun spending most of my time with people unaffiliated with the embassy. I have no idea what, if any, official events occurred for children. Many embassy families hired nannies for the kids, but other families included a stay-at-home parent. Those stay-at-home moms were the mission members whom I tended to meet and socialize with, and most of them had school-age children, so they were free and clear during the school day. I can’t really characterize the embassy culture’s attitude toward children one way or the other.

Embassy Phnom Penh seemed a bit conflicted about embassy kids. On the one hand, there was a playground right there on the compound, and when I arrived there were kids’ story hours every month—or maybe every week?—in one of the conference rooms, and there were children’s Christmas and Easter parties at the ambassador’s residence, and the CLO occasionally organized weekend playgroups at Monkey Business. On the other hand, I never saw any children using the playground except when the embassy hosted a local orphanage, and the story hours were discontinued soon after our arrival—I think the person who organized them rotated out and no one else volunteered to organize them—and the weekend playgroups were rare and always on Sunday mornings, so we never went to them because we went to church. I think most embassy spouses worked, so most hired nannies for the kids. I went to a few of the monthly social gatherings for spouses who didn’t work, but I left Alexa with our housekeeper during those events, as that seemed to be the norm. So there was an official effort to be a child-friendly embassy, which I appreciated, though it seemed to me that children were an afterthought rather than a feature of embassy social life.

Then we arrived here.

If Embassy Phnom Penh was conflicted about embassy kids, Embassy Pristina is determined not to be.

This embassy is in transition. Children were not allowed to accompany their parents to post for a long time—I’m not sure how long—because of the potential for violence here. Not too long ago, it was deemed safe enough for children, and two years ago, the first children arrived at post. The first school-age children are scheduled to arrive this summer; apparently educational options had to be evaluated before the post could be opened completely.

As with any transition, opportunities co-exist with problems. Most parents here tell us that things are improving. Only one has made clear just how bad it was for children at post when he brought his family here two years ago. His words, as near as I can recall, were, “They cared more about pets than they did about kids.” I had assumed that a post where adult dependents were allowed but child dependents were not would consist of two types of families: those who were young and either single or married but childless for now, and those who were older and whose children were grown and gone. Apparently I was wrong; most families consisted of married couples who had chosen not to have children in favor of making it easier for both spouses to pursue their careers. Understandably, given the circumstances, the embassy culture was unsympathetic to children and their parents; I don’t know that it was hostile, though at least the one father thinks so, but children just didn’t enter into the thinking of most mission members.

That child-free culture has changed. Those who have been here for a year or more—we’re the first arrivals of the summer, so everyone else has been here significantly longer than we have—may not recognize how child-friendly this embassy is now, as they remember growing pains to which we were not exposed. My experience, however, as a recently-arrived mom, is that this embassy is incredibly focused on children, and this focus is a direct result of the problems experienced by the first wave of parents and their children. Not only does this embassy have a playground—and an indoor playroom as well—but it hosts weekly playgroups there. When the CLO sends emails about the events and outings they sponsor, they almost invariably specify that “Children are welcome!” When I declined an invitation to a social event hosted by the Deputy Chief of Mission because I didn’t have anyone to care for Alexa, I received a reply to bring her; childcare would be provided—and when Alexa refused to stay with the other children and the caregiver, she was welcomed to the adult gathering. Children have been present at almost every social event I’ve attended (one was a ladies’ night out; most attendees were moms, but the kids stayed home with Dad), and one was planned specifically to introduce us to the other parents and children at post. Alexa even was welcomed into all the offices we visited during our newcomers’ orientation briefing.

I’m certain the growing pains are not over. With older children arriving for the first time this summer, education will be a concern, and the activities that welcome new preschoolers won’t be appropriate for teens, tweens, or grade-schoolers. And stay-at-home mothers aren’t particularly common here yet—the response when it was discovered that I don’t have a paying job was “Oh, we can fix that!”—but there are a few of us, and maybe there will be a few more after this summer. The culture is still changing and probably will continue to change throughout our stay here. It will be a fascinating experience to watch and participate in this shaping of a culture that will impact families for years to come.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying an embassy culture that truly welcomes our entire family.

*Our last name isn’t really Smith, but we’d rather not put the real one on here.

Busy

We’ve been pretty busy around here. A lot of it for me has been around the house—unpacking, doing laundry, ironing, cleaning, organizing. But we’ve also been busier outside of the house than we typically are, and I’m beginning to think that we will continue to have fuller schedules here. The U. S. Mission to Kosovo seems to consist of a social bunch, and we intend to join in.

Our first Sunday here, we accompanied our sponsors to a cookout. It was a nice introduction to a few people, including our sponsors’ two children and one other little girl. We even met a man who grew up less than an hour away from my hometown. Jeff joked that we had our priorities right: We went to an embassy party before we went to the embassy.

The following week, I stayed busy at home while Jeff acclimated himself to the office. That Thursday, Alexa and I accompanied him for the newcomers’ orientation. It was my first visit to the embassy.

The embassy here is vastly different from the embassies in Egypt and Cambodia. In Egypt, the U. S. embassy was a compound surrounded by a thick wall, with local police on every corner and local guards just outside every entrance. The word “fortress” comes to mind. In Cambodia, the embassy had a wall, but it wasn’t the heavy-duty wall of Cairo—it served its purpose while being more attractive and less intimidating—and the grounds were more manicured and beautiful. Both of those embassies had office buildings inside the wall, though the character of the buildings differed in ways similar to those of the walls around them.

In Kosovo, however, the embassy has an entirely different feel. It has a wall, complete with guards, but it encloses a couple of city streets that look residential. The embassy is those houses, renovated for use as offices. So rather than entering the security perimeter and then having a choice of one or two office buildings to enter, in Kosovo, each office has a house. It gives the embassy the feel of a village, rather than an official compound.

Anyway, we spent our Thursday going around the embassy “village,” checking in with each office. Our first stop was breakfast at Uncle Sam’s, the “cafeteria” (more of a café, really), which has delicious food and friendly service. After that, we visited the Community Liaison Office, the med unit, the Regional Security Office, Human Resources, and CAPE (Cooperative Association of Pristina Employees—a group that employees can join in order to use their combined resources to perform functions that the government can’t or won’t perform, such as member-only gyms, libraries, or restaurants; discounts to internet service providers; or bulk orders of hard-to-obtain grocery or other items). We introduced Alexa to the playground, which was much to her liking.

After all our orientation activities were done, Jeff returned to his office and Alexa and I took a taxi home. The taxi took a different route than we’d taken on the way in, so I caught my first glimpse of downtown Pristina that day as well. I look forward to exploring it more fully on foot.

The following Saturday—last Saturday—morning, we followed our sponsors to Camp Bondsteel for our first visit to the PX. Everyone here calls it the commissary, and based on comments I’d overheard, I expected a full supermarket with an attached smaller PX, like what we had in Egypt. It wasn’t like that, however; it was reversed—a full PX, complete with electronics, clothing, books, and household goods, with a small grocery section attached. As small as the grocery section was, however, it was stocked with plenty of things that made my eyes light up, including creamer for my coffee (we’d been told it wasn’t available here), Cheerios for Alexa, and plenty of grill-worthy meats to go with the grill we purchased that day. After lunch there (we had a choice of Burger King or Taco Bell, neither of which are otherwise available), we headed back to Pristina.

That afternoon, we went to the home of the Deputy Chief of Mission (DCM) for the spring picnic. We met several new people and chatted with the ones we’d met previously. We enjoyed the hamburgers and hot dogs provided by the DCM and the sides and desserts provided by everyone else—and we made our contribution of chips and salsa purchased that morning, since I didn’t yet have the supplies needed to make a homemade contribution. (Our air freight had not yet arrived, so I was limited in my baking dishes as well as in ingredients. I’m still working out what ingredients are available here.)

While at the party, I became aware of a ladies’ night out scheduled for that evening—I’d been invited already by email, but I didn’t have internet access yet. Jeff agreed to care for Alexa, so I accepted the invitation to ride with a neighbor.

Accordingly, Saturday evening, I walked down the street to my neighbor’s house, and we drove downtown together. The venue for the night’s festivities was a Mexican restaurant, so margaritas and appetizers abounded. Maybe 10 of us were there, and everyone was friendly and welcoming. There was lots of laughter, accompanied by well wishes directed toward the one woman who’s leaving soon. It was a nice time, unfortunately cut short when the woman with whom I’d ridden received a phone call from her husband—he’d been called in to the office unexpectedly, and we needed to get back so she could care for her son while he went in.

Sunday morning we had hoped to attend church, but that didn’t work out.  We still haven’t located an English-speaking congregation to which we know we both have access—there’s a chapel service at a military base nearby, to which Jeff could go, but Alexa and I are not allowed on base. Instead, Alexa and I stayed home while Jeff made the drive back to Camp Bondsteel. He had set up our new television the night before, only to find some stuck pixels right in the middle of the screen. An exchange was in order.

Monday was supposed to be a typical “clean the house” day for me, but it turned into something else. We’d experienced a small leak in a filter in the garage. A couple of embassy plumbers had come to fix it as best they could, but they told Jeff that what they had done was temporary, and they needed to obtain better parts before they could do a permanent fix. On Monday, the need for the permanent fix became very apparent.

We woke up to the sound of water running in the garage. The leak was back and bigger. Jeff called it in, then went to work. To make a long story short, the plumbers came and looked, left to purchase a new filter, then came back and replaced the filter. They assured me that this filter was stronger, and they’d attached it very securely. I don’t doubt them, but they had underestimated the water pressure coming into this house—apparently we’re right off the water main, and the pressure is extreme. Not long after they left, my washing machine started making a funny noise, and I checked it to discover that there was no water. On my way up the stairs, I heard a waterfall in the garage. The new filter had fallen off completely, water was gushing out, and there was a good inch of water on the floor, despite Jeff having left the garage door partially open so water could run outside. I called Jeff, told him to get the plumbers back NOW, and followed his instructions for how to turn the water off.

Shortly after that, a couple of electricians came to fix some transformers. They turned off the pumps (needed to push the water all the way up to the top level … though maybe not with the excessive water pressure), then proceeded to deal with the transformers. As they were leaving, another plumber arrived to turn off the water—half an hour after the gush had started. If Jeff hadn’t told me how to turn it off already, it could have been very bad indeed.

Then the original two plumbers came back, looked, went to buy another filter and a valve to regulate the water pressure, then came back and fixed the problem. This repair seems to be holding, as we haven’t heard any running water (or waterfalls) in the garage since then.

Oh, and on Monday, I also hosted a couple of men from the internet company, who set up our home internet service. Later on Monday, I turned away two more men from the internet company who didn’t realize that the first two had come.

Then came Tuesday. Tuesday morning, Jeff stayed home while we accepted delivery of our Unaccompanied Air Baggage, which arrived much sooner than expected. He put together our mattress while I unpacked the kitchen goods and some of Alexa’s toys. She was incredibly excited to see “Daddy George” (a large Curious George doll) and Yow (a stuffed tiger), as well as her balance bike and several other toys.

Tuesday afternoon, Alexa and I went back to the DCM’s house for Spring Tea. I originally had declined the invitation because I don’t have a babysitter yet, but then I was told that child care would be provided and that Alexa was welcome. I took a chance and accepted the invitation, fearing that Alexa’s screaming would cause me to make a hasty departure. It turned out both better and worse than I feared: Alexa didn’t scream, and we didn’t have to leave early, but she also refused to stay with the young lady who’d been hired for childcare. She sat right beside her mama, in a chair left empty due to a last-minute cancellation, and she was quiet and well-behaved as she ate her fruit cup and cookies and drank her water (Mama had forgotten to bring her boxed milk). She even favored the DCM’s husband with a smile or two when he played with Daddy George, without whom Alexa had refused to leave the house. It was a nice time, and Alexa received several compliments on her behavior, for which I was grateful.

The following day was May Day, a local holiday. We relaxed at home all morning, then went to our sponsors’ house that afternoon for a “Meet the Parents (and Kids)” cookout. I met a few more ladies and several more men, Jeff socialized with people with whom he’d interacted primarily professionally, and Alexa found a safe haven—the “house” at the top of a slide—from which she could observe the other kids while considering whether or not she’ll ever acknowledge their existence. All in all, a good day.

Thursday and Friday were more busy days at home. And finally we come to this weekend—a long one, because tomorrow is a local holiday for Orthodox Easter. We had ideas about going out, visiting a local mall, trying a nearby restaurant. Jeff had ideas about inaugurating the basketball court. None of that has happened; it may or may not happen later today or tomorrow. Instead, we’re enjoying the opportunity to relax. Upload pictures to Facebook. Write and publish blogs. Order some things online we’ve been meaning to get around to ordering. Watch a Star Wars movie—mandatory for yesterday, May 4 (otherwise known as “Star Wars Day” – May the “Fourth” be with you).

We’re just enjoying a nice relaxing weekend in our new home. Finally.

Our Kosovan Townhouse

Home Sweet Home

One of the things about which we’ve been very excited is the housing in Kosovo. After talking with some folks who were here already, we quickly realized that we’d be assigned housing in one of two areas: downtown or a planned community just outside of town. The downtown housing offers the advantage of proximity—proximity to the embassy (most folks walk to work), proximity to shops and restaurants, proximity to a couple of reportedly nice parks (though you should stay on the paths in one of them, as all the land mines haven’t been removed yet). Downtown housing also is bigger. But it has its pitfalls, too: the floor plans are a little odd (some worse than others); at least one has a great yard, but others have no outdoor space at all; and although you’re close to everything, it’s also very hilly, with narrow roads, difficult parking, and fast drivers.

The other housing option, let’s call it the “community option,” also has pros and cons. The housing is pretty new, with all the modern amenities. Everyone has a small yard, plus the community areas: a playground, swimming pool, basketball court, and tennis court. It’s close to a good supermarket. Although it’s farther from the embassy, it’s still only a 10- or 15-minute drive if you time it right. There isn’t much traffic, and there are a couple of relatively flat areas (Pristina in general is pretty hilly) that are good for little kids riding bicycles. The housing is smaller, though, and although some stores and restaurants are within walking distance, most are farther away.

We went with the community option, and we’re thrilled with it. Our townhouse feels like an American home, albeit a rather tall one. It’s split level to the extreme, with a total of five levels, but each floor consists of the front or back of the house, not both—so it’s like a half basement and two floors, but the two floors are split into four levels with the stairs running through the middle of the house, if that makes sense. Maybe it will be clearer once you get the guided tour. Let’s start at the front door …

Foyer

When you enter our house, you come into a tiled foyer. On your right is a door to the garage—possibly big enough for a car, but a tight enough fit that we may just use it for storage. On your left is a built-in with cabinets and drawers for storing shoes, umbrellas, gloves, hats, scarves … and hooks on the wall above it for coats. Very practical!

Living Room

If you go straight through the foyer, the living room opens up to your left. It’s a bit small, but with some furniture rearrangement, we should be able to get our home media set up the way we want it. We have great furniture here—I think it’s all brand new (which concerns me with the cats), super comfortable, and pretty … who would have thought that I’d like a red sofa?! And the living room, like the other non-basement, non-bathroom rooms, has amazing natural light. Just as important in the living room, the Roman shades can block most of it out, making it an ideal setup for movie viewing.

Half Bath

If you pass by the living room, you’ll find a door on your right. That door leads to a small room that we believe was meant to be a laundry room, but it isn’t quite big enough for the full size washer and dryer provided by the embassy, so it’s empty for now … well, it’s holding a bunch of cardboard boxes until we figure out how we’re supposed to dispose of them here, but it’s theoretically empty anyway. If you pass through that room, there’s a nice half bath with dark brown tile throughout.

Basement

If you look left instead of right, you’ll see the stairs. There’s a short flight down to the basement, which is a good size. Down there we have the laundry facilities, the water heater, and the extra freezer/fridge that our sponsors requested for us from GSO (General Services Office), as the one in the kitchen is pretty darn small.

Great Room

Going up the stairs, the great room opens up to the right at the first landing—so we’re at the back of the house now. It was set up as a large dining room, with the kitchen open at the back of it. We rearranged by taking a leaf out of the table and re-orienting it so it goes across the width of the room rather than down the length of it, creating an open area at the end closest to the stairs. That’s going to be the playroom. We have a deck off the playroom, too, complete with some patio furniture—and we’ve already bought a small grill. I need to find some slipcovers for the patio cushions, as they’re still brand new, with tags on and plastic on the cushions, and I’d rather have a homey feel out there rather than the sheer practicality of plastic.

Kitchen--two views

The kitchen, open to the great room, is small but well-planned and pretty. The light hardwood floors give way to dark tile, which matches the dark wood cabinetry. The small fridge and freezer are hidden behind cabinet doors. There’s a small dishwasher—the perfect size to fill every day and run every night. Storage space is limited, but there’s a nice pull-out pantry that optimizes what space is available, and some of the larger drawers have liners that make me think they were meant for pots, pans, and bakeware. Jeff particularly likes the two wide cabinets with garage-style doors. We have a great convection oven, mounted at a convenient height, with a baking pan that slides right onto the rails like the rack does. And of course, a new house in a new country means a new type of cooktop—this time, completely electric. After this tour, short of cooking over an open fire in a fireplace or campfire, I’m not sure there will be a type of cooktop I haven’t used.

Scenes from the kids' bedrooms

If you round the landing and continue up the stairs, you come to the “kids’ bedroom” floor—in the front part of the house again. There’s a full bathroom and two bedrooms up there. The two bedrooms share a small balcony, which has a beautiful view. Currently, one bedroom is set up as Alexa’s room, and the other has a great desk in it, as well as the cats’ travel crates, water fountain, and food bowls. (We’ve put the litter box in the bathroom for fear of the litter scratching up the nice hardwood floor, but we may buy a large area rug and move it back into their room.) Unfortunately, the decision about which room to set up as the bedroom probably was made based solely on size, as the larger one has the bedroom furniture. That would be great, except that the smaller one—the cat room/office, currently—has the most adorable pink flower light fixture, and the Roman shades have a cute, girly, pinkish bird-birdhouse-flower design on it. Alexa has announced that she’d like for us to paint the walls pink to match the light fixture, and then that can be her room. I think it’ll be adorable. We’re in the process of gathering information to hire a painter for her room and possibly for ours, and we’ll switch out the furniture once the painting is done.

Scenes from the master suite

Rounding the stairs again—up and back to the rear of the house—you come to the top level, which is the master suite. We have a good size bedroom, though the furniture arrangement is pretty well dictated by the placement of the door, closet, balcony, radiators, and an odd little nook. The walk-in closet is large and nicely organized, with some tall and short hanging clothes space, some shelves, and some drawers. The master bath is entered through the closet. It’s really pretty—dark wood (we think it’s laminate) on the floor and textured cream and brown tile on the walls, a huge soaking tub, a comfortably-sized shower stall with a glass door. It’s a little strange that the toilet and sink are both square rather than rounded, but I think that’s just a more modern style. The house feels pretty traditional overall, but there are a few more modern design elements throughout that we probably wouldn’t have chosen for ourselves, though they aren’t unattractive or impractical by any means.

Our decision to request housing in this community was a good one for us, despite the smaller size. Alexa loves the playground and the flat areas where she can ride her balance bike safely. I love the modern amenities of this house and its warm, welcoming feel. Jeff loves having the patio and his new grill, and I’m sure he’ll get good use out of the community basketball court. The cats are enjoying the plethora of new scratching posts and pads we’ve purchased in an attempt to protect this nice, expensive, new furniture.

I think this will be a great place for us to live for the next two years … maybe even the next three.

Welcome to Kosovo!

Written Sunday, 21 April 2013

I am amazed at how warmly we have been welcomed to Kosovo.

The welcome began before we even arrived.

It’s normal for us to have communication from foreign service personnel before our arrival—we’re guaranteed that because of the sponsorship system and because we ask the CLO to add us to their email list before our arrival. But the first time we are face-to-face with someone saying “Welcome to this country” usually is at passport control, if the passport control officer is feeling friendly; otherwise it’s when we meet the expediter or our sponsor. This time it happened early.

Our last layover of the journey from Cambodia to Kosovo was in Frankfurt, Germany. When we boarded the plane, I was surprised to see that it was a little one—only four seats across. Alexa chose to sit between Mama and the window, with Daddy across the aisle. In order to buckle Alexa into the seat using the CARES harness, I needed to fit the strap around her seat, inside the closed tray table of the passenger behind her. As I was doing this, the man seated behind me offered his assistance, since the angle was a little awkward for me. Of course this interaction led to a casual conversation in which he asked how long we would be visiting Pristina. Upon hearing that we were moving there, a big smile broke out and he heartily said “Welcome! You are welcome in Kosovo! You are American, yes?” (I paraphrase, because I don’t recall the exact words—I was distracted by Alexa throughout the conversation—but that definitely was the sentiment.) The man proceeded to assure me, and Jeff once he realized we were together, that Americans are loved and welcomed in Kosovo. He appeared genuinely delighted that we were moving to his homeland, and his two travel companions seemed equally pleased.

That was the first in-person welcome we received, but it was far from the last. The personnel at the airport were friendly and welcoming. The other travelers smiled at Alexa and stared apparently in awe at Cleo and Isis, who were loudly voicing their displeasure at being confined to their travel crates for 24 hours while being moved from place to place with no evidence that “their” humans were anywhere close by. When given the opportunity to go ahead of us through doors and turnstiles—we were slow, with the stroller, Alexa, and three carts of luggage—not a single person took us up on it. They smiled, shook their heads, and gestured for us to go ahead; they were happy to wait.

When we exited the airport and reached the public access area, we were greeted by our sponsor and no less than three Kosovan men employed by the embassy—two of them drivers (one vehicle for the bags and another for the people). Our excessive and excessively heavy baggage was loaded in no time, the carts disappeared, and we all piled into the car for the trip to our new house.

During the drive, Jeff and our sponsor chatted. It turns out that they have a lot in common, from technological knowledge to movie preferences. While they talked, I focused on Alexa. She’s a great traveler, and she did well the entire trip, but she needed to know she had my attention right then—and it’s a good thing she had it. When I interrupted the conversation with “She’s about to throw up!”, the response was immediate: the car was pulled to the side of the road, our sponsor (also a parent of young children) leaped out and got Alexa unbuckled and out of the car, and the driver was handing over a packet of wipes by the time she threw up the little that was in her stomach. I even managed to catch it in my hand and keep it mostly off her clothes (I know, gross, but it was the instinctive response, it worked out well, and I’m sure other parents understand).

No worries, Alexa is fine. We discovered during our time in the States last December that Alexa seems to have a little bit of an issue with riding in a car, particularly if she’s been under stress—such as having almost all of her toys and familiar things disappear, saying good-bye to a distraught Ming Ming, and getting nowhere near enough sleep on a journey that even the most travel-hardened adults would dread. She threw up the one time and has been fine ever since.

After our little incident, we proceeded without further difficulty to our new house. I only need one word to describe it: home. Maybe not fully home, not yet, but it definitely will be. I won’t say too much about it now, because I’m sure I’ll do another post all about it, complete with pictures. The key thing is that it is very warm and welcoming, right down to most of the walls, which are a warm beige rather than the drive-me-batty white that adorns most embassy housing when we first move in.

We hadn’t been here long before the doorbell rang. Our office sponsor and his family live just down the street, and his wife and young son had come by to welcome us and bring us dinner: biscuits, a pasta dish that earned five yummies from Alexa, a Jell-O dessert, and chocolate chip M&M cookies. She also kindly took Jeff on a spur-of-the-moment trip to a nearby supermarket, as we discovered just before her arrival that the cat litter I’d ordered hasn’t made it here yet. Later that evening, after the work day—Jeff wisely decided not to go in Friday afternoon after all—our office sponsor showed up to welcome us as well.

On Saturday, we continued the settling in process. We spent the morning—a long morning, thanks to Alexa’s jet lag—unpacking, then met our other social sponsor (they’re a married couple who both work at the embassy). She drove us all to the supermarket and put up with my questions and my repeated expressions of awe at the sheer size of the place … it may not have everything we can get back home, and honestly not even some things we could get in Cambodia, but I haven’t been in a supermarket that large, with that many options, since the U. S. She offered to let me browse the entire store—they sell much more than groceries—but I focused on my list, not wanting to keep her in the store for the three hours it would have taken to explore it fully. It turned out to be good that I didn’t browse too much, as Alexa hit her limit halfway through and started insisting “We need to go home. Lexa doesn’t want to be at the store. Lexa wants Lexa’s mouthie!” All of that was code for “I need another nap NOW!”

When we arrived back home, Jeff and our sponsor sent me upstairs to get Alexa down for her second nap of the day—jet lag is a beast, especially for a preschooler—while they unloaded the groceries. After our sponsor went home, Jeff walked down to our office sponsor’s house to borrow their internet connection and ask a few questions. He came back with two menus for pizza delivery, which is one of the first things we seek out in any new home. The settling in process goes so much more easily if I have an  option other than cooking every night, especially until I figure out what’s available to cook at the new location and until I receive my own pots, pans, and baking dishes.

We spent the remainder of the day yesterday and this morning unpacking, though we did take a break to introduce Alexa to the nearby playground, which was a big hit. At this point, we’re completely unpacked and pretty close to as settled in to the house as we will be until our UAB arrives. Right now, Jeff is test driving a car that we’ve tentatively agreed to buy from a departing diplomat, as tuk tuks aren’t available here and taxis aren’t particularly cheap or convenient.

I may be misremembering, but I don’t think I felt as settled in either Cairo or Phnom Penh after living there for two or three weeks as I feel right now, after just two days in Pristina. I wouldn’t say that I have friends yet—it takes me a while to give anyone that title—but we’ve met two couples who have been very friendly, and I anticipate that we will be friends with both of them. Now we just need to find a solid church and develop some friendships from among its membership, and I need to make an effort to get to know a few more embassy folks, and Kosovo is gearing up to be a very enjoyable post.

Welcome to Kosovo, indeed.