Singapore galore!

Travel. Sights. Sounds. Food. Fun - some of the best things in life.
Explore new places, shake off the old mold, do the extraordinary - something daring. Aah! but between work, parenting and other responsibilities I can barely get much in edge wise. Time flies, suddenly I'm older, less energetic and then I think I deserve a party for arriving home from work. But just when I settled into the mundane an opportunity knocked on my door with a bunch of goodies - a business class air ticket, a 4 star hotel and yeah! I was set for a 17 hour flight to South East Asia with an 8 hour lay over in Frankfurt.
Highlights: I ate my first crab, munched on a red baby octopus, tasted the yummiest dumplings ever. 3 times I nearly missed my flight, I got hit on, I lost my phone and all in the space of 5 days.

Red baby Octopus

Chili crab

Hubby took care of the kids while I traveled to a different country, a different continent. Of course I suffered small panic attacks along the way. As the plane prepared for take off my heart was stuck to the door of my house, wriggling and begging to stay. I had not been separated from my family for more than a few hours in the past 2 years. "Take deep breaths Mary, it's going to be alright" I had to be my own shrink.
It took until the eve of my travel to grudgingly tell the kids I would be away. Little Miss A didn't seem to mind on condition that I returned. My boy had a shopping list ready. When on the morning of my flight, my little girl hugged me tight and said "O mummy, I missed you!" I knew I was in big trouble, I hadn't left yet. My husband had his work cut out for him and I had mine too.
On trips, he does the paper work, marks the gates of departure while I focus on the kids. Alas! I ended up in the wrong lounge, and located the right check-in counter just in time to board. While the masses hurdled their way through to economy, I walked majestically to the counter, showed my business class ticket and was ushered in with a smile - never felt so good. That was just the beginning of my boarding adventures.

Frankfurt am main

Frankfurt bridge

Locks of Love

So, here is one travel tip: To capture the essence of a city take a bus tour, you will see the big picture, learn the history of the area and identify hot spots to return to when or if you have the time.

Marina bay

Lantern festival

China town

Since catching up with my colleagues we were constantly running to check-in counters - almost always the last to board. I will blame that on the comfort of the business lounge. The second you walk through the doors, the world outside ceases to exist; comfy couches, champagne, wines, delicious food... you forget you have places to go, once you stretch out that's it!
So we nearly missed our flight back and had to run for miles to the departure gate, on the way we remembered we hadn't even checked through security. Liquids out, computers, pat downs ... in a sweat we whizzed past people leisurely walking through the airport "excuse me! excuse me!" my heart rate tripled, I was near breathless and I thought such drama was left for the movies.

I had a window seat. My neighbor, a blond guy with a stern face. He didn't smile or make eye contact, I suspect he was German. I thought "O well, one less job for me. I can sit quietly and mind my own business". He was very resourceful though, since this was my first business class flight I didn't know how to work the gadgets. I watched for his moves and followed along a few seconds behind; ear phones, remote, tray - open side compartment. Adjust the seat, raise the legs; press the remote with the figures. I became a pro. Flights without looking over my shoulder or asking a wriggly kid to sit still sure felt strange. Good strange!

Long flights can feel like being locked in a bed room with a stranger. The seats are separate but you fall asleep next to each other. Mannerisms pop up unexpectedly, like the guy who begun to file his nails on the table cloth or the one who was constantly nibbling at his finger nails.You wake up next to each other, freshen up, have breakfast together, lunch together...well we can only pray the flight is not any longer otherwise you get to know each other in an odd sort of way.
On the flight out of Dulles, my phone slipped out of my pocket, I couldn't find it when we landed. I had the cabin crew searching, literally dismantling the seat but there was no phone. The doors were closing, I had to leave. I got to my hotel room in Singapore, pulled out my toilet bag to prepare for the night and oops! there it was - my phone.

I thoroughly enjoyed the trip :-). The work? Intense and educative but not as fun as the in-betweens.

No more diapers!!

Diapers are life savers!

They are handy for newborns, for new mothers and for the elderly when the center can't hold anymore.
Wrap them up, tuck them in the trash and viola! It's as though they never existed.
Concerns with hand washing soiled nappies ceases.

They may weigh heavy on the pocket but that is contrasted against house keeping chores i.e mopping and vacuum cleaning carpets. Let alone the discomfort of odd glances from visitors.
While I pondered over expenses on diapers, pull ups and wipes, I was reminded of my relatives in Soroti whose babies run free. The soil and the grass serve to clear all evidence. A bath in a basin of cold water caters for extreme cases. Natural events such as these do not interrupt the course of life.

The time came when my little carrier learned the joys of a bathroom, toilet facilities were put to good use - a cause to celebrate the end to diapers in our home (for now at least).
I look back and thank God for how far we have come.

She raised her head to a push up position. I said "that's my girl!"
She investigated her world with  mesmerized  curiosity.
Diaper size: New born


Her little back firmed up, she sat. The angels on the ceiling lost her attention; the horizontal view captivated her visual perception.

She discovered her knees facilitated movement; the wonders of the world were within her grasp.
Before long she was gliding around on all fours.

Diaper size:  3 - 6 months

Crawling hindered speed so she placed her little feet on the ground and wobbled to master the art of walking. She trotted, lost balance and slumped on her butt with  bewildered expression.

After months of nestling at moms breast she switched to the bottle. Rubber tips got chewed off, replaced and chewed off again.
Finally we graduated to sippy cups, uncork the champagne it is time to celebrate! No more delicate little rubber thingies; sock, boil, rinse...repeat
Diaper size:  6 - 8 months....

She imitated speech; one word here "Daadi" two words there "Daadi go" she studied lip movement, she picked up a few more words. A miracle unfolded each day and each day my heart skipped a beat. She grasped and formulated words appropriately. Her vocabulary improved. Her 3 word sentences evolved to five word sentences by evening. In breathless excitement my heart flattered inside my chest. After a rib cracking giggle with her brother she exclaimed "Mummy, I laughed heartily!" She won the cup that day! The sentences were complete and complex - totally loved it. Like Godiva chocolates bursting in my mouth, her growth left me helplessly content, the taste of sweet wine and chocolate lingering on my hearts palate.
Diaper size: Toddler.

Potty training; on again, off again. She got the hung of it but with the excitement of life  she forgot and sometimes it was too late. But as her 3rd birthday approached, she took the big leap. Done with day time diapers, night diapers had to go too. She took on the challenge and we have been pamper free ever since.
It is a wonderful feeling.

Crossing diapers and wipes off the shopping list gives me a fantastic thrill!

Movers remorse: Red line vs Orange line

It's been 3 weeks since we moved.
I can literally jog to the Shady grove metro, ok jog is a strong word, but it is a 10 minute walk. Compared to my 30 minute bus ride to Vienna metro, this is a piece of cake. I get to office in half the time.

Shady Grove metro is unbelievably run down. The trains work, praise God! but the place is an old mess. I'm told New York has some really lousy stations but S.G takes the cup. I thought is was built in the 18th century but it was opened in 1984. The Vienna metro was opened in 1986 but it got a make over last year so right now I suffer from withdrawal symptoms. The comparison doesn't help.

Why didn't anybody tell me that everybody and their dog live in Maryland? There should be a sign post inscribed with the words"ALL ROADS LEAD TO MARYLAND!" For all the 11 stops no one gets off until we get to Shady Grove. With the Orange line, I knew loads of people would get off at Court house, Clarendon and Ballston, then there would be space for the rest of us to sit. But now eh! you wait paka you give up. As if that is not enough, there is only one escalator leading off the tracks. We all clog at the escalator like a swam of bees attempting to pollinate a single flower. It's not funny! People cut in and even push. So far passengers on the red line are rude and impatient, they don't say much but their actions speak loud. Even though Virginians were quick to speak when their feathers were ruffled, I still think the Orange line has a more courteous, organized and gracious lot.

Did I mention that the trains are tattered? Well, the red line trains are tattered beyond! On occasion I have hopped on to some decent ones but mostly they need a serious makeover. Once, I looked around and thanked God I didn't suffer from OCD otherwise walking to work would be a viable option. The cart walls were a blackish grey, with stains from eons ago. Evidently they are cleaned but I couldn't get past the stains. Your careful not to move around or hold anything lest you catch some crazy bug.
And why wasn't I told how unreliable the red line is? On my third day the train stopped at friendship heights and passengers were asked to disembark. They walked off like it was no big deal. The captain announced that someone was sick on board. Hmm strange! One passenger is sick and 1000 people are asked to get off? Wouldn't it have been easier to get the sick person off instead? In the two years I used the Orange line, only once were we asked to off load the train and that was because one of the cart doors couldn't close.

I may be suffering movers remorse - a version of buyer's remorse.

Did I tell you Maryland has friendly neighbors? Aha! It does. Once people are off the stress of the commute they turn into decent folks again. Our lawn has been mowed, we have been welcomed to the neighborhood. The little kids smile and talk freely.
Who said I was complaining?

Massage phobia; On again, off again

After a few odd encounters, I vowed not to visit another massage therapist. Ahhh but alas! My feet led me down that path yet again. With strains from moving house and a sudden urge to get fit I jogged along the trails in our neighborhood  and that's where my woes begun. My muscles locked in knots, my neck and back tensed up like a tight fist; clamped like the lean meat of our Teso chicken in whose flesh one could lose a tooth. Only a massage could knead them loose however, I chose not to solicit in-house services.

I located the spa recommended by a friend but whose services I only now considered. Submerged in a busy shopping mall, one would need to be looking for it to find it: "SPA WORLD!" Its wall had pictures of fountains, steam baths and swimming pools - my nerves sensed the calming effect already.

A nice young male receptionist opened brochures of possibilities:
7 sauna options,  poultice rooms, a swimming pool, a bade pool; Basher wall, dream bath, bench jet, wave jet... , a gym, Shiatsu massage; 30 minutes, 90 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours ... A two hour massage? really?. Body scrub, foot scrub... I thought, "err...lets keep it simple!" This Ugandan girl can only do so much, let alone wrap her mind around this wealth of activities. I was welcome to stay for 24 hours at no extra charge - how cool?!

A cue begun to form behind me, so I stood aside to reexamine the brochures. Eventually I stepped up and declared my preferences. I was handed a key to a locker with space enough for one pair of shoes. I later found out the key would not unlock until one had payed their dues. One could attempt an escape without shoes but I doubt many people ever considered the option.
Then I was handed an orange uniform similar to Kazinda's prison outfit.

In the ladies locker room I considered this endeavor a possible mistake on my part. Ladies walked "freely"! Whatever had they done with the orange uniforms? Probably didn't like them either. I sheepishly traced my way to my second locker, which thankfully was in a corner. I wore my orange uniform and headed to the bade pool. The notice on the door could be summarized in one word "strip!". Oh well, enough of that.

A little Asian lady dressed in white led me to a dark room. Its walls whispered soft  instrumental music. When she begun to walk and skate all over your back I concluded East Asians were rightly blessed with the massage art, I was silently thankful for her brief stature. She attempted to separated my neck from my head, my shoulders had snippets of life disassociated from their sockets. I thought my legs would be handed to me. *Note: Do not under estimate energy that comes in small packages!

Alarm bells sounded when she complimented my body. Was this my cue to make a speedy exit? The theory that massage therapists are payed to compliment their customers is quickly crystallizing in my mind.
Memories of my first massage at Fang fang hotel came rushing back. The lady's gaze was transfixed. She asked why I married so young. Uncomfortable with compliments from a female stranger, I begun to panic but I realized it was harmless, not that I returned to find out.

As I grow older, I realize the need to embrace these compliments, one day I will look for them and they may not be found.
Besides, the benefits of renewed energy and fluid muscles out weigh the risks, the trick is in visiting a different spa each time ;-)

Parenting! You just never know

When that cute bundle is placed in your arms it’s indescribable. Dreams of a bright future flood your mind. But unlike Mary the mother of Jesus you never know what will happen the next day, the next month or the next year. Are you raising the next Beethoven, Kony, Einstein, Amin or Chimamanda?  Will you light candles until you are grey or cry your heart out when the candles are snuffed out too soon?

Each day presents a unique set of circumstances.

When the police car with red and blue flash lights  pulled up to the side walk and the officer walked up to me, I silently wished he was a mirage. He shook my hand and introduced himself.  He pulled out a pen and paper from his side pocket and proceeded to ask a series of questions: “Where does he usually play?” “Is there a neighborhood kid he likes to play with?” “How was he dressed?” "Can you show me where you live?" I wanted to pee in my pants. My son was missing. He left school without permission. Then the officer made a profound statement, he said “I’m sure he is not in any kind of trouble. Kids do silly things all the time. I know. I’m a father of four”. I could have hugged him at that point but it would complicate matters. The reassurance from the officer turned father helped my sanity, he was familiar with parenting.
He suggested we search together. He opened the back door of the police car and invited me to get in. This was not what I envisioned when I subscribed to motherhood but I'm sure the parents of  Kiprotich, Inzikuru, Obama, Trayvon or Snowden would say something similar.

 I sat quietly, a little overwhelmed with my surroundings as you may imagine. The officer and I were separated by a bullet proof glass shield. The back doors had no handles inside just a plain flat surface - the door could only be opened from the outside. I was trapped. Trapped in a police car. Trapped in a whirl wind of thoughts, emotions and questions. Where could my son be? Was I a good mother? What role did I play in orchestrating this unique set of circumstances? Was I training my child to follow instructions and stay safe? Was I providing a safe nurturing environment for him? Did I miss-communicate that morning? Was I building the right relationships in the neighborhood? 

Constantly faced with decisions and choices, a parent's life is filled with ups, downs and merry go rounds; Caution, discipline, instruct, medicate, exhort, enroll in extra classes, buy the tools to improve skills. Walk with, talk with, play with, pray with.
Listen, wait and hope that someday in the future the labor was not in vain.

A committed parent  faces forward determined to tackle every straight and curved ball that swerves their way. I have learned the most important thing is to look up! Up to the father of heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows. Every good and perfect gift (your children) come from Him. The plans He has for them are good. He says He will come to them and fulfill His good promise to bring them back to safety. He has plans to prosper them and not to harm them, plans to give them a hope and a future.
Call on Him and come and pray to Him and He will listen to you. Seek Him and you will find Him when you seek Him with all your heart. He will be found by you and bring you back to the place from which He carried you.

In the busyness of life and parenting, do not be discouraged. Remember, these little gifts are really God's and He will show you how to take care of them.