Aurora Shooting Memorial

The shooting in Aurora, CO last Friday has shaken my country, my state and my community.  As a teacher in Aurora Public Schools - indeed, at a school minutes from the scene - this tragedy has hit home particularly hard for me. 

Today I visited the Aurora shooting memorial.  Sadly, I've seen many memorials in my life, from Columbine High School to Washington, DC to Rwanda, Sudan and Kosovo.  Never have I experienced a memorial scene with such fresh grieving and abundant tears.  The fact that I ran into students and colleagues there made this moment even more haunting.  

What an unspeakable tragedy.  What a time to be thankful for our lives.

 

 

I am rarely a political blogger, but I feel the need. 

Fuck the gun lobby. 

Under no circumstances should any civilian man, woman or child be able to purchase a semi automatic weapon. EVER.  

Politicians of all parties: I don't care about your chances of getting re-elected.  Their blood is on your hands. 

Fix this. 

May they rest in peace. 

Kosovo? Let's Go!

When I found out that my best friend Allison was moving to Kosovo to teach, my response was: "When should I book my flight?"

After au revoir-ing my family in France, I hopped a plane directly to Kosovo.  Just kidding! That would have been too easy!  I actually hopped a delayed flight to Serbia, transferred to a regional jet, made a "technical stop" in a field to refuel, and arrived in Macedonia to get picked up by Allison.  Just kidding! That would have been too easy!  Allison actually got held up, so she sent a sketchy middle aged taxi driver man with a sign to fetch me at the airport in Macedonia and drive me two hours to Kosovo.  Don't worry, he wasn't a human trafficker.  I asked.  

Oh yeah, and my luggage decided to stay in Serbia.  Ugg. 

After some hugs and reuniting, Allison and I got down to the first order of business: SHOPPING!

My budget was 4 or 6 euros, which was a real challenge at this store. 

And although I wanted to wear cowboy boots (the only shoes I had with me) all the time, I ended up buying multiple new Balkans outfits and shoes for a grand total of about $3.

Second order of business: SEE WHERE ALLISON WORKS.

The American School of Kosovo is a very unique experience.  The keys to the classrooms are straight out of the Secret Garden.  The desks are pretty much all left handed.  They even participate in a recycling program that turns plastic bottle caps into wheelchairs.  I know, I wish I'd thought of it first too. 

My favorite part of the school is the lunch room.  Sorry, did I say lunch room?  I meant nightclub.  For real, the lunch room doubles as a club at night.  

This is where the children eat lunch. 

Outside of the school is this remarkable "Reborn" statue, which represents the hope for Kosovo's future. 

Third order of business: UNLIMITED WINE.

I was fortunate to arrive on the last day of school...aka, teachers go nuts day.  Allison arranged a dinner with her school staff to celebrate [my arrival] the beginning of summer.  

This restaurant, Renaissance, provides not only delicious Balkan cuisine, but unlimited red wine, white wine and the local spirit roki.  That's right: unlimited.  

Once the watermelon started soaking in the roki shots, I had a feeling that things were going downhill fast. 

There might have been Cuban dancing, candy cigarettes (yes, Mom, candy - as in made of gum), inappropriate group voting, magic tricks, card games and Smirnoff icing (so rude).

 

  There are a couple of hazy parts in my memory (Thanks Ben for using my camera to document!), but I'm pretty sure it was one of the best nights of my life.  A+ Kosovo.

Helen, The Ropes! HELEN!!

Sometimes I roll my eyes when I encounter other Americans abroad.  Whether it's bringing a rollie suitcase when traveling the hill towns of Italy, or subscribing to the belief that shouting louder and slower makes English easier to understand, but let's face it: travel brings out the crazy.

I had a real eye roll towards the end of our France trip.  We encountered another boat of Americans.  And this was no birthday-bash-reunion-lovey-dovey-women-are-great crew.  This crew had mandatory, practiced nautical jobs and matching professional grade boating gloves to facilitate those jobs. 

We didn't just see them coming.  We heard them.  "Helen, the ropes! HELEN!!" "Helen, you HAVE TO BE READY!" "Helen! Where are your gloves?"  Poor Helen.  She just wasn't cut out for boating the canal. 

Then came the hand signals.  Mr. Skipper Up Front silently and decisively demonstrated multiple hand signals to alert Mr. Captain At The Wheel of the status of the front of the boat.  Which is very necessary on a 35 foot houseboat. 

I was appalled. How had we survived without hand signals?  I'm just an idiot abroad, I guess. 

So, I established some hand signals.  

Please feel free to steal these for your next travel excursion.  We found them extremely helpful. 

1. Check out the lock master.  He's hot!

2. Check out those people, they are IDIOTS!

3. Shhh! Be careful, I think they speak English!

4. Move the boat forward. 

5. Reverse! We are about to/already have hit something!

6. My guess is that those people are French. 

7. My guess is they're German. 

8. My guess is they're American.

9. It's anyone's guess where those people are from. 

I always knew I was meant to be on a boat. 

Joyeux Anniversaire, Maman!

The dream of a houseboat in France was always my mother's.  It finally came to fruition as a way to celebrate her 60th birthday in style.  In fact, both she and Gaby turned 60 within a week of each other (Gaby's was, unfortunately, pre-houseboat).  Clearly, this called for a celebration. 

June 13, 2012 was the most beautiful day I have ever seen. 

Dramatic clouds. 

Bridges reflected in water.

Spontaneous champagne.

Barbecues and candles. 

Old friends that have become family.

*        *       *       *      *

This sunset will never leave me.  It was God's birthday gift to an incredible woman. 

Meandering Down The River? I Think Not.

Upon our return to Europe, a reunion with our German BFFs Gaby and Nicola was obviously in order.  It was birthday season, after all! (More on that later).

When I heard that my mother, sister, Gaby, Nicola and I were going to rent a houseboat in France, I thought: Sweet! We will float down a river and I can relax on deck and read - plus get an incredible tan! (side note: I got an incredible foot tan).

Nope.  Let me tell you. I was not properly informed of the amount of physical labor it takes to maneuver a boat for 7 days. 

Canals in France were built using locks.  And if you want to navigate said canals, one must jump off the moving boat upon entering the lock, climb up a ladder, and tie up the boat until the water has raised/lowered the boat.  Then untie the boat, push open the gates and leap back onto the boat.  This is quite a laborious process.  Lucky for us, we passed through no fewer than 73 locks during our trip.  

That's right: 73 locks. I'm kind of a lock master now. 

 Did we have to go through a extensive training on driving, docking and controlling an expensive boat?  Don't be dumb! After about 15 minutes of pointing and rattling off directions in French, these lovely gents waved us off with their stamp of approval.

In their defense, it is pretty impossible to tell 5 women what to do for more than 15 minutes. 

My mother named us "Les Femmes Epoustouflantes", meaning bright, strong women.  Which fit, because we tended to have plenty of chiefs and not enough Indians (if you know what I mean...).

None of the other boats knew what to do with these 5 epoustouflantes. 

What nationality were these women?  Clearly not French, though that was the language spoken. 

Why are they drinking so much wine?

And where is the man to captain the boat?

With too many memories to count, I will leave you with a visual of our week as Les Femmes Epoustouflantes. 

Paris In The Summertime

Here I am - back from Eurotrip 2012! I mean, I leave Colorado alone for a few weeks and the whole place is on fire!

I could go on and on about how blessed I am to have amazing friends and incredible stories - and I will.  But, my real takeaway from this trip is simple: my life is super fun.  Seriously!  And stay tuned as I roll out all the fun and frolicking of Eurotrip 2012. 

First up: Paris!  Now you might think that Paris in the summertime would be sunny and warm everyday.  Lies.  I am pretty determined that France is cold and rainy year round.  The theme of Emily-Didn't-Bring-Enough-Warm-Clothes really resounded repeatedly throughout the trip. 

In addition to Katie, Jeff and my mother, I got to spend the weekend with my dear friend Jo.  She flew over from England just to appreciate my neon Nike running shoes.  She wasn't disappointed. 

Our time together was perfect.  A beautiful city, a beautiful friendship.  And maybe one too many bottles of wine.  Whoops!

You know it is true friendship when you're still obsessed with each other after 11 years.  

While in Paris we watched the French Open with the locals (on an orange carpet).  And like all tourists, we visited a taxidermy shop owned by an acquaintance of my sister.  

Five days in Paris is never enough (although my wallet might disagree).

  Until next time, old friend...