TCK

Birthdays

girl in floral dress playing mini bedroom toy — ^{Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com}

I had a birthday recently and decided to take myself to go see “Barbie”. I was hoping for some fun escapism. Well… it was entertaining but it was also a story of a major existential crisis. So I’m conflicted. Not sure I liked it. But Ryan Gosling was excellent as Ken.

I can be conflicted about birthdays in general. Some good, some bad. Some have associations I don’t care for. Some happy occasions.

My mother writes about the menu for my second birthday: hunks of cheese, slices of bananas with peanut butter dabs all on a toothpick, tiny buns filled with ground spam, graham crackers with honey butter, and then cupcakes with a candle on each, coffee and Koolade.
Sounds like an exotic ‘50s meal, doesn’t it?

My fifth birthday was memorable because the family had just survived a plane crash and landed at our final destination two weeks late – on my birthday. Another memorable one was in Lagos, Nigeria when my mother and I marked the occasion by opening a small tinned chocolate cake. They probably don’t make such a thing anymore…

In 1999, the last year of the millennium, I spent my birthday in France.
We stayed with friends in the suburbs who had a house and small yard and a son our son, Noah’s age. They were about a ten minute walk from the train in a nice little village with a pretty chateau. The first day was spent getting our new visas organized and trying to do some shopping. On Saturday we wandered around the left bank and then the four adults went out to dinner at a very nice kind of ‘new’ French restaurant. It was my birthday so we had champagne and wine and great food. Sunday was the boat ride on the Seine with the boys and then a walk through the Tuileries garden where there just happened to be some rides and of course Noah had to go on them.

We rented a car and on Tuesday left for Metz and the eclipse. Metz is a very pretty town right on the river. We scoped out the area on Tuesday and early Wednesday morning we headed out with the telescope, video camera and other cameras. We set up our camp in the middle of the Esplanade which is a nice park right by the river. The town had organized a big festival around the eclipse and so there were parades, music, etc. going on all day long. It was cloudy. During the first half of the eclipse we were able to see it off and on. But about 20 minutes before total eclipse it started to rain. We could tell when the total was, though, because it was completely dark. It was really cool. All the flowers closed up and all the lights came on and it was really night. Then during the second half it cleared up a bit and we were able to see more. Noah kept looking at the “moon” through his glasses. Nicholas got some good shots through his telescope. And I got a new umbrella. When we got back to Paris our friends who had gone 25 minutes north of Paris on the train said they had seen the whole thing perfectly.

From Metz we drove into Lorraine and the Vosges area. We stopped at the Haut Konningburg castle which is a huge restored castle on top of a mountain in the middle of the forest. You can see forever from it. It is really cool with a moat and drawbridge and inner yard. It would be very hard to penetrate it.

From there we wound our way around down to La Bresse which is in the heart of a big ski area and lots of mountains and forest. Really beautiful. Our hotel was very nice with a good restaurant. We drove all around the area and went hiking around a glacial pool where Noah spent the better part of an hour throwing rocks into it.

On Sunday (the day before Noah’s birthday) we took the boys to the Bois de Bologne to the big amusement park there and I think they went on about 20 rides. They had a lot of fun.

Our last day in Paris we had lunch up at Montmartre with all the tourists in town. It was kind of fun.

Artificial Post

person reaching out to a robot — Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

There has been a lot of talk about Artificial Intelligence lately. I’m sure it has been in use for a long time but it is now going more mainstream. I spoke to a woman recently who said she uses it regularly to make her work emails better. So I looked into it a bit and discovered it is being used all over the place. AI self published books on Amazon. So I thought – why not AI blog? I asked it to write a paragraph on third culture kids. Then I asked it to write a short story about it. And a poem.

They are actually pretty good in a mainstream, very positive, very Disney kind of way. The poem actually made me laugh –
“Oh, Third Culture Kid, a soul so bright,
You’re a constellation in the night,
Your journey shapes a tale to tell,
Of how diverse hearts together swell.”

Obviously not my style but interesting. I can see why it is popular. Why it will rule the world. Why we will become the robots. Is it the end of civilization as we know it? What do you think?

Write a paragraph about Third Culture Kids

Third Culture Kids (TCKs) are a unique and fascinating group of individuals who have spent a significant part of their developmental years living in cultures different from their parents’ or their passport country’s culture. As a result of this cross-cultural upbringing, TCKs often acquire a distinct identity that combines elements from multiple cultures, creating a “third culture” of their own. These global nomads are skilled at navigating diverse environments, adapting quickly to new situations, and embracing diversity with an open mind. While their upbringing offers enriching experiences and a broader worldview, it can also bring challenges in terms of forming lasting connections and a sense of belonging. Nevertheless, the resilience and cultural competence that TCKs develop make them invaluable assets in our increasingly interconnected and globalized world.

Write a short story about this

Title: Roots of the World

Once upon a time, in a small, bustling town, there lived a young girl named Maya. Her parents were diplomats, and as a result, she had spent her childhood traveling from one country to another. Maya had grown accustomed to saying goodbye to friends and embracing new cultures with each move, and she had become what was known as a Third Culture Kid.

At the age of ten, Maya found herself in a picturesque village nestled among the Swiss Alps. As she explored her new surroundings, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder and excitement. The village was filled with colorful houses, friendly faces, and enchanting traditions she had never experienced before.

Despite her natural adaptability, Maya sometimes felt a sense of longing for a place she could call her own—a place where her roots could grow deep. Nevertheless, she embraced each day, eager to learn about the world from different perspectives.

One day, while wandering through the local market, Maya stumbled upon a quaint antique shop run by an elderly woman named Agnes. Intrigued by the unique artifacts on display, Maya struck up a conversation with Agnes. They quickly discovered that they both had a shared love for adventure and exploration.

As the weeks passed, Maya and Agnes developed a deep bond, akin to a grandmother and granddaughter. Agnes had lived her entire life in the village and was enchanted by Maya’s stories of far-off lands and diverse cultures. She saw in Maya the spirit of a true adventurer, someone who cherished the beauty of each unique place she encountered.

One snowy winter evening, as they sat by the crackling fireplace, Agnes shared a heartfelt story about her own youthful dreams of traveling the world. Fate had tied her to the village, but she found immense joy in living vicariously through Maya’s adventures.

Moved by Agnes’ story, Maya realized that she didn’t need to have a single, fixed place to call home. She understood that her experiences and the connections she made with people around the world had become the roots that anchored her to the essence of humanity.

As the years passed, Maya continued to explore new countries, gaining wisdom and insight along the way. She would visit Agnes whenever she returned to the Swiss village, and their friendship remained as strong as ever. Maya cherished her upbringing as a Third Culture Kid, embracing her unique identity with pride.

In time, Maya became a renowned journalist, using her understanding of diverse cultures to bridge gaps and promote understanding worldwide. She wrote about the beauty of unity in diversity and the importance of embracing one’s own roots while celebrating the roots of others.

Maya’s story resonated with people from all walks of life, inspiring them to be more accepting, empathetic, and curious about the world around them. And as she continued her journey, she knew that her heart was connected to all the places she had been, for they were the roots of the world that made her who she was—a true Third Culture Kid.

Write a poem about this

In a world of wanderers, a soul takes flight,
A Third Culture Kid, in the vibrant night,
With roots that span the globe’s embrace,
In each new land, a sacred space.

From distant shores to mountains grand,
They roam with wonder, hand in hand,
Their heartstrings tied to many lands,
A tapestry woven by diverse hands.

Through bustling streets and tranquil dells,
They gather stories that their heart tells,
From desert dunes to oceans blue,
They find the beauty in what’s new.

They bear no burden of fixed abode,
For in their heart, the world’s bestowed,
A mosaic of cultures, rich and deep,
A treasure trove they’ll forever keep.

In every smile, a tale unfolds,
Of friendships formed and dreams that hold,
A legacy built on bonds so rare,
In lands they’ve loved, they’ve left their care.

They know that home’s not just one place,
But rather, a feeling they embrace,
In every corner of this earth,
They find a sense of joy and mirth.

For in their soul, they’ve come to see,
The unity in humanity,
A bridge between the worlds they stand,
A beacon shining through the land.

Oh, Third Culture Kid, a soul so bright,
You’re a constellation in the night,
Your journey shapes a tale to tell,
Of how diverse hearts together swell.

Embrace your roots, both near and far,
For in their dance, you’ll find your star,
In every culture’s tender grace,
You’ll weave a world, a boundless space.

Facebook Remembers

Nine year ago I spent an idyllic week in a villa on Lake Como in Italy. It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. It was transformational. This week Facebook keeps digging up photos of that week to show me in my “memories”. How thoughtful of them. (??) Anyway, I ended up picking out a few.

We had been to our school reunion in Lugano, Switzerland and five of us decided to extend the trip by renting a villa in Lezzeno, right on the lake. We took the bus to Bellagio. We rented a boat and cruised up and down the lake hovering at George Clooney’s place and the Villa D’Este hotel where people pay $1,500 to stay. We swung by the Villa del Balbianello where they filmed Star Wars. And watched sea planes land outside Richard Branson’s villa. We rode up the Funivia to Pigra and took in the view. A local chef fed us dinner. It was perfect.

I even made an attempt to copy that last photo in needlepoint form. The flowers surrounding the villa really impressed me.

An unforgettable time.

Fair Isle, Shetlands

Fair Isle from the ship.

Arrived at Fair Isle in the morning. A lot of rocking and rolling on the boat overnight. Big swells. Up at 6:45, breakfast at 7 am and then to the zodiacs at 8:15. When it was my turn to board the zodiac there was a huge swell and I ended up to my knees in water. The attempt was aborted and I had to go back and wait for the next boat. I managed to get to land but had to wait for a dry pair of boots.

Since I had such a traumatic experience and had a late start waiting for dry boots, everybody was taking care of me and I ended up in a car that took me to the museum. For most people it was an hour walk. So I had a bit different experience but it was very interesting nonetheless. The woman driving was originally from the Netherlands but lived in England for many years and moved to Fair Isle about 16 years ago.

The museum was in a one room stone building and run by a Fair Isle native who said her family moved to the island in the 1600’s. Since there is no wood on the island much of the furniture was made from or was actually recycled from shipwrecks. There have been a lot of shipwrecks over the past 200 years.

The island has about 70 inhabitants and is known for its knitted woolen sweaters and hats. Sheep were everywhere. It also has a large puffin colony. From the museum we went to the town hall where knitters and artists had displayed their items for sale.

The landscape was stunning.

Rounding up Scotland

Random snaps of Aberdeen (click for larger view)

The sculpture garden

Dunnater Castle outside Stonehaven. Built 1400-1600. In use until 1718. I had to hike down a million steps and then up half a million steps to get there.

Falls of Feugh

Inside the Cairngorms National Park. Braemer is home to the Scottish Highland Games.

Linn of Dee

Muir of Dennet Nature Reserve

It was raining on the gates to Balmoral Castle.

Bye bye

Dundee and Alyth, Scotland

See London to Dundee if you need background.

After 10 hours sleep, I woke to a rainy day in Dundee. Still dragging a bit, I went off to see the Victoria & Albert museum down by the river Tay. Architecturally it was a beautiful, interesting place with a large open interior.

I learned that Scotland exported ceramics including Asian themed plates to Asia in the 1880’s. Also the Scottish Imp, made by Chrysler in the 1970’s had tartan seat covers.

But the best part was the cafe. I had a delicious pea mint soup and a scone. All while enjoying a view of the river. After lunch it was pouring rain so I went back to bed. I lucked out the following day. It was sunny and perfect for exploring. Dundee is a city of about 150,000 with several good museums, three shopping centers, and a university all in the center. It is very walkable and the people are friendly and helpful. In the morning I was out before anything opened so walked around and found a lot of public art.

Dundee is home to DC Thompson and Co. comic book publishers so several comic book characters were featured around town as well as prominent figures like Queen Victoria who visited Dundee in 1844. My next stop was the McManus Art Gallery.

I really enjoyed the museum. It had art and artifacts from around the world as well as Victorian and Edwardian paintings. There were sections on natural history, history of Dundee and the history of the building itself. The inside of the building was very cool

I headed to the other side of town to see the Contemporary Art Museum near the University of Dundee. It was small and there was one in depth exhibit on a lighthouse on the Algerian coast. I bought some postcards in the gift shop and the guy who checked me out was from Wisconsin. Lots of people working, studying and visiting from other countries.

Another big attraction in Dundee was the Discovery ship. There was a museum dedicated to it and you could board the ship. Since it cost 17 pounds, and I was pretty museumed out, I decided to skip it. The ship was built in Dundee in 1901 and its first mission was to carry Robert Scott and Ernest Shackleton on their successful trip to the Antarctic.

On Wednesday I stowed my roller bag at the Premier Inn hotel and caught a local bus to Alyth. The driver didn’t announce any stops so I was a little nervous I would miss my stop but after about 45 minutes we arrived at Market Square, Alyth. I found the guesthouse where I had reservations to stay but I got the times wrong. It was 3 pm and check in was not till 4.

I walked down the road to see the Alyth War Memorial and was taking it all in when it started to pour. I managed to find a bus shelter but not until after I was soaked to the bone. Back at the guesthouse I spent several hours trying to dry out.

See My Morning Walk for more on Alyth.

London to Dundee

I arrived in London at about 8 am after an eight hour plane ride and a six hour time difference. There was a bright moon over the Atlantic. I took the Heathrow Express train from the airport to Paddington Station. Instead of messing with the Tube, I just hopped a taxi on to King’s Cross.

I enjoyed watching the masses of people posing for pictures at Harry Potter’s Platform 9 and 3/4. The line was very long. My train didn’t leave until 2 so I had plenty of time to watch them.

Trains are so much more enjoyable than planes. I had a six hour ride from London to Dundee. I met a woman who told me she had been a guest at the coronation the previous day. They had to be there early and by the time it was over they had been there six hours with nothing to eat or drink or access to toilets. It was kind of grueling but she thought it was very exciting. She saw all kinds of celebrities. She was most excited to see Kenneth Branagh. The railway gave each of us a Coronation Chocolate.

I was in first class and the guy in front of me was enjoying a free beer when the ticket lady came by. Not only did he have the wrong ticket but it was a coach class wrong ticket. She was very nice and tried to convert the ticket so he would only have to pay the difference instead of buying a whole new ticket but his credit card never did go through. Lucky for him he wasn’t going far.

The bright yellow crop growing everywhere is rapeseed which is made into oil. I was told it has an unpleasant odor.

We all took pictures of the Angel of the North. Located at Gateshead, the sculpture was finished in 1998 by Antony Gormley. it is the largest angel in the world. It is 66 ft. tall and has a wingspan of 177 ft. And it can withstand winds of over 100 mph.

There were lots of interesting buildings in Newcastle. Hard to capture them on a train. Immediately past Newcastle we ran into fog.

It was foggy off and on from there but lifted at intervals.

I checked into my hotel in Dundee, had a quick supper, drank a bunch of beer, watched the end of the Coronation Concert with Lionel Richie and Katie Perry and others. And then I passed out. I was up for 32 hours and then I was not. I’m just taking I easy today!

Travel Time

condor airplane on grey concrete airport — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I figure I’ve been in about 80 airports around the world. That’s a lot of time spent in airports. I started out at 7 months and just kept going. As a typical TCK, I learned to fly before I walked. By the time I was 11 months old I had been in a car, on a train, on a plane, on a boat and up a funicular. All those “at what age” questions in my baby book were full in no time.

I know some people feel at home in airports, or love being in airports. I hate them. For the most part, they are just boring. I have spent hours zoned out, jet lagged, and sleep deprived on hard benches waiting for the weather to clear or the congestion to ease up or to make up for a lost connection.

Some of my life’s most terrifying experiences happened at airports. When I was 5, my family was in a plane crash in Denver, Colorado. When I was 14, I almost missed my flight from Miami to Bogota. When I was 18, I ended up being wait-listed on a midnight flight from Geneva to Nairobi, not knowing if I would be stranded.

It seems that whenever I was in these kinds of situations, I never had much money and I never had needed contact information. I just got on airplanes and expected everything to go okay and didn’t worry about it. Had I missed that flight to Bogota, all I had was my parent’s address in Bogota. No phone number, no other contact info. I suppose I could have called my brother but I’m not even sure I had his contact info. After all I was 14 years old.

But I was lucky. There were times when things didn’t go that well, but somehow I always managed to get where I was going. Over the years, I learned there were times when you really could depend on the kindness of strangers.

Travel has become more difficult, more crowded, more expensive, more stressful. But I keep doing it. My next trip is to the Arctic via Scotland. Wish me luck!

Cooking in the Snow

a man in black jacket lighting up a cooking fire — Photo by Koen Swiers on Pexels.com

No, that’s not me…

It’s snowing again. What else is new. I saw a movie years ago, I don’t remember the name of it or really much about it except it was about some nuclear war in the future. What I remember about it was the nuclear winter. It looked like it was snowing all the time. (It might have been The Day After) When I moved to Moscow I used to say I lived in the nuclear winter because it snowed constantly. That light steady snow that never accumulated much but just kept coming down. This winter feels like that. Constant snow.

I’m typing my mother’s letters she wrote to her family from Burma in the early 50’s. I’m almost done with 1953. She helped to edit the Rangoon International Cookbook put together by women, both expats and Burmese… and Indian and Chinese, American, English, French, Australian…In the Forward it says:

“There is a Thank You written invisibly to every contributor and source of treasured recipes, named and nameless. But here we wish to record our special thanks to Mrs. Sung San, honored with Burma’s martyr-hero, and beloved herself as Daw Khan Kai for her service to her people. In the midst of new and heavy responsibilities as Chairman of the Social Planning Commission for the Union of Burma, she has found time to give us her entire delicious “company menu”, with the recipes for the nine distinctive Burmese dishes therein.” (She was Aung San Suu Kyi’s mother)

One recipe contributed by my mother is an old favorite of mine. There were no lemons in Burma but she substituted limes and that worked fine.

Lemon Sponge Pudding

Combine:

3/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. grated lemon peel
1 1/2 Tbsp. soft butter
3 Tbsp. flour
2 egg yolks, beaten

Add: 1/4 cup lemon juice
1 cup milk

(Mixture may have curdled appearance, but no matter)

Beat: 2 egg whites until stiff and fold into mixture.

Pour into buttered 1.5 quart casserole.
Place in pan of hot water
Bake at 325°F uncovered 40-45 min or until set (1 hr).

Serve warm or chilled. I like it warm!

The cook book was published by the Woman’s Society of Christian Service of the Methodist English Church, Rangoon, Burma 1954

About this time my father was traveling around Burma visiting schools to potentially help with agricultural education. He writes:

“I returned last Friday evening from my trip up country. We had a very enjoyable trip for that area is comparatively free from insurgent activity. We were able to drive about 150 miles away from Mandalay without a guard. That has been impossible until recently. On Sunday we were in Maymyo (by car) and the following Wed. the insurgents blew up the train and killed 14 between Mandalay and Maymyo. Day before yesterday the insurgents blew up the guard train and the regular train following behind between here and Moulmein. They then attached the train and killed several and robbed all the passengers. On our trip we were royally received everywhere we went. These people genuinely seem to like to have us visit their schools. At several schools we were presented bouquets of flowers and at practically every school we had to have tea or food. All the schools are clamoring for agricultural teachers so my program should continue to grow. They have never had teachers of agriculture in the schools before and the ones I turn out this year will determine how effective my program is for I’m the only one in Burma doing this work.

The Honorable Vice President of the U.S. is visiting here this week. There was some comment in the papers before his arrival that the Communists were going to demonstrate to protest his visit here but nothing has come off. There was a short meeting on Tuesday of the Embassy and TCA personnel to meet Mr. Nixon. So, when I get home you can shake the hand that shook the hand of the Vice President.”

So, interesting times…

Cheers

Footprints in the snow and other thoughts

More snow today. I’m getting tired of it. I drove across town yesterday to meet my cousin for lunch. It honestly felt like I was crossing a minefield. I was dodging potholes all the way. Some of them were very large. I feel lucky and surprised when I find a street that is fairly smooth.

I bought my train ticket from London to Dundee online but somehow I must have screwed it up because it turns out I have two train tickets from London to Dundee on the same train, three seats apart. There are so many different ways to buy tickets I guess I went back and didn’t realize I doubled up. Now I have to go back and try to figure out how to get a refund and hope I still end up with one ticket. I am obsessing over every detail of this trip. I was fine until I realized that I arrive the morning after Coronation Day. I’m sure London will be a zoo.

Today’s featured postcards at PostcardBuzz are of Guatemala. The postcards are paired with a couple photos I took when I was was there in the 1960’s. Here is more about that trip:

My first plane trip in many years was in the first class section on a PanAm flight from Mexico City to Guatemala City when I was twelve. We were the only ones in first class so I got to be kind of chummy with the flight attendant. Toward the end of the flight he asked me how I liked the flight and how I felt about it. I thought that was kind of odd and didn’t know what he was talking about. Apparently my parents had briefed him on me and my troubles with flying, and so he had made a special effort to distract me. (We had been in a plane crash when I was 5 years old.)

In Guatemala, we rented a car and drove up the mountain to Lake Atitlan. Volcanoes surrounded the city and the lake itself was a collapsed volcanic cone. On the way up the mountain, we saw people lying by the side of the road. We didn’t know if they were dead, passed out or taking a nap. It was very odd. We later found out that the previous day was payday and they had done their celebrating and not quite made it home. Apparently it was a familiar site in the countryside. We also went to Chichicastenango and to Antigua. This was major earthquake country. Antigua was the original capital of Guatemala but in 1776 there was such a bad earthquake they moved the capital to where it is today – Guatemala City. Antigua was surrounded by three volcanoes.

There was a new part of Antigua and an old part. The old part was all ruins. It was an eerie place. It was once a major city that tumbled down and was left there like a memorial. We stopped at a small restaurant and ate our meal in the yard. There was a group of musicians that wandered from table to table. We could see laundry hanging at the end of the lawn.

From there, we continued to El Salvador. One night in San Salvador we were staying in a high-rise hotel and I was sleeping on a cot. The building started to sway and my cot started moving across the room. All I could do was laugh at the crazy “ride”, as earthquakes were so common at home in Mexico City. In retrospect I guess we were lucky the building didn’t come down…

(excerpt from Expat Alien, My Global Adventures)

I continue to work on my mother’s letters. In one of them she describes a meal they had at a Chinese restaurant in Rangoon (1953).

The dinner was held at one of the Chinese restaurants, and consisted of about a dozen courses of perfectly delicious food. The one good thing about Chinese food is that it is served steaming hot, so that one may be sure that most germs have been thoroughly cooked. There was shrimp and vegetables, duck served with head and tail on and covered with big mushrooms and nuts in gravy, then a whole baby pig with head and tail of which we ate only the skin which was very crisp and chewy at that course, a whole fish with delicious sauce with vegetables, then the pig came back all cut up, soup with abalone, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, etc. served in a big gourd, fried rice, dishes of Chinese vegetables, tea with real flowers in it and cookies, then lychees for the final course served in ice water. I probably have forgotten some courses, for it is very hard to remember back. I liked most of dishes, and at least tasted all except a noodle dish (which I forgot to mention above). I’m not fond of Chinese or Burmese noodles! The fish and soup were my favorite dishes – always are of Chinese food.

March first. Winter is almost over?? So I never knew this but today is National Pig Day in the USA. Apparently National Pig Day is “to accord the pig its rightful, though generally unrecognized, place” as one of the most intelligent domesticated animals. Of course anybody who has seen the movie Babe already knows that about pigs… Happy Pig Day!