Summer Alphabet: A, B, C

It is an annual tradition to pause and reflect on the season of summer holiday. Though this is the year of a seemingly perpetual winter holiday for us, there are subtle shifts of life. Teaching online to not teaching online seemed to signify the beginning of summer, rather than a paperwork drop-off and a long jaunt across the ocean. Another shift passed earlier this month, when our kid-inspired-adventure-filled days were traded for kids-stuck-to-computers days and we were not bound for the other side of the globe.  

In years past, I have written the entirety of the summer alphabet in one post. This year, I am posting in chunks. For several reasons; the foremost being that writing in length has become difficult for me. In a time of such tumultuous emotions and constant, unnerving unknown - it has been hard for me to focus and to put words to it all. Instead of facing the difficulty, the stories swirl in my head and stay there. Yet, Zach and I have made a commitment to continue focusing on the things that make us us. Writing is an immense part of how I process life - that has always been the case, in good and in bad. Therefore, start small...like a chunky ABC look at our summer that was quite epic for the times. 

Annual Pumpkin Planting

It began as a pursuit to provide small pumpkins for kindergarteners and has morphed into a 'well, how many can we get' experiment. The plot has incrementally grown and the species of seeds purchased expanded. Our annual trip to Kentucky was a month earlier which allowed for me to join the annual pumpkin planting on the farm. Over 1500 seeds were put into the ground, each with a hope of giant vines and robust pumpkins of every shape, size, and color to burst forth into the world. 

I can report that the hopes of a bountiful crop came to fruition for mom sent pictures of the recent harvest and it seems over 1200 pumpkins were picked. 

There is something absolutely delightful in seeing the growth cycle of a seed.

Blazing Bike Trails

For the first time in summer shenanigans, four bikes were ours to see the world. We blazed many new paths from the Trolley Trail to the Vernonia-Banks Trail to the Sellwood Riverfront Trail with a side dash of over the Tillicum Bridge. We even had the joy of having friends ride with us - we finished that adventure with milkshakes! 

Cat Antics

While cats prowling around the abode is not uncommon, this summer set up a new level of adoption of us humans - especially for the neighbor's cat, Sherby. Stealth and skittish were the modes of past reconnaissances, bold and begging for pets was the new normal before eyeing something of interest or walking off in cat-style disdain. We suspect the increased interest in our yard is due to Addysen becoming a modern-day Disney princess who turned our backyard into a marvelous bird sanctuary. 

We have been the receivers of headless animal offerings over the months, a true sign of our acceptance in their hunting grounds. However, a couple weeks ago, Kaden and Addysen joined forces to thwart a hunt in progress, which I am sure has now caused a ripple of cat disdain. Nonetheless, they made the decision to intervene when baby squirrels were found on the ground and Sherby was moments from pouncing. The action invoked was Addysen swooping Sherby into her arms and walking away to administer many love pats. 

Photo Journal: Downtown Portland Muralscape

Today I took a walk through downtown Portland - the place that has been thrashed in the media, around the world, for absolute mayhem and burning. However, I did not walk seeking action and a story to push, but more so to experience a place I truly enjoy in a very unique time in history. Pandemic plus protests plus smoke laden skies. 

Downtown Portland is empty.

Downtown Portland is bare - of buzz, of bustle, of brio. 

I walked for blocks without meeting or seeing a single person. 

The roads were barren landscapes of asphalt. 

It was surreal. 

However, there was a glimpse of Portland and its artsy soul. 

Murals. Dozens of mural have morphed bland spaces into beautiful memorials for moments and people. I know they will rarely be showcased for it does not fit the narrative being pushed, so I took photos of many of them to remember a place that the world believes to be devastated and drained. 

Life Updated

We technically began our summer holiday on July 4, after many hours in front of our tablets handling an overload of bad English, bouts of tears over a lost semester, a few therapy sessions, and a handful of begging students trying to explain their lack of presence during the semester in bad English. In the wee hours of the night, we laid down our pens, rubbed our eyes, and audibly sighed for the completion of such a weird season.  

What next? 

We made the decision to have a bit of normalcy amidst non-normal times by taking on our role of Asian nannies in the To-Banker household. It was good for the soul. 

Yet, it has had the feel of a dual existence - by day, fun and delight; by night, decisions, conversations, processing about our life on the other side of the world. The Banker curse is strong with this situation, for there are layers upon layers of bureaucratic mess. A recap, because even I need it:

In February and March, our school told us not to return for safety. We complied. 

End of March, the borders closed on a 24-hour notice. 

In May, our FAO informed us that the school was not offering a contract, primarily due to us being out of the country (which they told us to be.) However, our positions and flat are being held for us.

In this conversation, he mentions the school has a new president and that it has been decreed that the school cannot be associated with the main UESTC campus in Chengdu. We have been in China long enough to know that an unexpected new president usually involves corruption and a government probe. 

In July, the school invokes a hiring freeze until the end of the year. Due to us not being offered contracts in June, this means we are considered new hires so nothing can be done until the end of the year.

The school states firmly that our flat and belongings will stay as is until we can return, but not sure if they can offer the return process.

While most teachers were walloped with refugee status but granted contracts, our school decided to bestow refugee status and administratively implode towards joblessness.

We are in a state of perpetual limbo. 

It is maddening. It is heart wrenching. It is tear-inducing. It is frazzling. There are thousands around the globe just like us, baffled that paperwork can be tossed aside so flippantly without realizing the ramifications for thousands of lives. 

Oh, more madness? My Chinese bank account is to be frozen because the passport number attached to it has expired. Can my boss fix it? Can I fix it online? No, I must appear in-person at the bank because borders being closed does not change the in-person policy. 

Oh, and the reimbursement for our travel cannot be fulfilled because our receipts are in the United States. Scanned copies are not acceptable because the financial office requires hard copies. Again, closed borders are not an adequate reason.

So, we throw up our hands. We massage our temples. We put palm to face. We wait. We hope. We look for jobs - for something to do and to generate some income. We process all the could bes and what ifs. 

If someone asks how we are doing, it could be a response of tears or smiling glee. There is such a fine line between the two these days.