The letter U all over again

I often think about two things my first grade teacher, Ms. Riley, told me many years ago.

1. Usually your first guess is the correct answer.
2. Everyone is special in their own way.

As a white girl in my first grade class, I was in the minority. Most of my classmates were multiracial. We lived in Seoul, Korea where I was constantly stared at and commented on – from my height to my weight to the size of my nose to the color of my eyes.

Ms. Riley was African-American. She always wore bright colors and always smelled nice. I remember looking at her eyeshadow during class and wondering how she put it on. Or how she took it off, for that matter. I loved hearing about the stories of her growing up. I liked how she encouraged me to talk in class after my kindergarten teacher told me I talked too much. Ms. Riley told me I could be a writer if I wanted to be one. She told me it was okay to be different – in fact, it was much better to be different.

We learned about Martin Luther King, Jr and one of our projects was to finish his “I have a dream” line. I remember all my classmates working away on their posters, adding clouds and stars and hearts. Even back then, I was more interested in words than pictures but I couldn’t think of anything to write. I remember Ms. Riley sitting with me and telling me stories about Dr. King.

And then one day, my parents put us in the car and we drove past my elementary school. My mom and dad told me to look out the window as we drove past. Do you see something? Can you see it? And there it was – my name in print. The very first time.

Later that year we put on a play for Martin Luther King, Jr Day. Ms. Riley assigned each of us to a letter in his name. I got the letter “U”. When it was my turn, all I had to do was take a step forward and say, “U is for unique.” But that play, that moment, has stayed with me ever since.

In my final term at university, I took an African American Politics course. It was on Thursday nights from 6pm-10pm. It would complete my Political Science minor and I would be finished with my degree. I couldn’t wait.

On the last night of class, I had to write various essays on the civil rights movement. The last question was on whether or not America would ever have a black president.

I finished the exam, returned to my apartment where Scott proposed. Soon after, I moved to a different country.

Last week, I saw a black man become the next American president, four years after that essay and nearly 20 years after my first byline.

Naturally I was happy because I had voted for him, though it was not because of the color of his skin. I was thrilled to have seen, albeit from an ocean away, an incredible voter turnout for probably the most unique election there will be in my lifetime. I was excited that the international view of the US would hopefully change for the better.

But mostly, I was proud to see that the American Dream does still exist. And that a first grader, all those years ago, had a dream which might actually come true some day.

Cheer up a British soldier

I have talked a lot about how much I enjoy receiving mail. I think there is nothing better than receiving a care package from back home filled with all the things I love and miss.

When we were in the US last month, we packed a box for my dad which included his favorite snacks, magazines and dvds. This package, which took a little bit of thought and a couple hours out of my day to pack and send, really cheered my dad up.

Filling the box with beef jerky and past copies of The Economist reminded me of the first Gulf War, when we used to pack care packages and write letters to soldiers when I was in elementary school. I remember telling my teacher that I didn’t know what to write to them. Mrs. Hickman told me to talk about what I was learning in school and how grateful I was to be going to school, because of course the soldiers were to thank for that.

I wasn’t so grateful and instead wrote letters to my dad (who was also serving in the Gulf War). I told him all about what was going on with the family and what tv shows I was currently watching. Most of my letters ended with, “Ok, gotta go. Math class is almost over.”

I was thinking about this last Monday on my way to work. It is almost Veterans Day (or Remembrance Day as it is known in England) and the red poppies have started appearing on coats, hats, posters; white-haired men with sloping shoulders stand outside my station, holding little red buckets, asking for donations in exchange for a red poppy of my own.

I thought about the Christmas presents I need to buy and whether or not we’d put up a real tree this year. I made a mental note to mail my cards by December 10th since I missed the deadline last year. And then I thought about the soldiers, how so many will be deployed over the holidays and just how easy it is to forget about them.

Last year I contacted the one charity I could find in the UK that sent care packages to British soldiers overseas. After receiving a less than helpful response asking for a monetary donation instead of my time, I gave up.

So last week I decided to really do something this year. I asked friends and coworkers if they knew of any British soldiers currently deployed. I researched organizations and groups on facebook. I randomly sent out messages to soldiers. And one by one, they responded. Some are overseas but are returning before Christmas. Some are back home and won’t be going back until the new year. All of them are grateful and touched and willing to help in any way they can.

Just reading their appreciative emails made me tear up. Many wrote about their American counterparts receiving care packages from their hometowns, youth groups, churches, etc and how the British soldiers mostly just get mail from their loved ones.

One soldier wrote me a long message about how he’s been in Afghanistan three times and will be going for a fourth tour next year. Luckily he’ll be home this Christmas but his friend won’t and could I contact his friend?

I have spent the past week compiling a mailing list for British soldiers and I’m not really sure how big this project will get. I am in the process of writing up a list of all the things I think they might like. I know I can’t send a care package to every soldier but I intend to send a few care packages to each platoon with snacks, magazines, dvds, and PG tips tea, to name a few. And maybe I’ll throw in some Santa hats for good measure.

But I want every soldier to receive a card and this is where I hope you will come in. I’ve told a few friends about this and I have gotten the following questions/comments:

If you don’t know of any British soldiers, why not just send cards to American soldiers?
Because I know there are many, many organizations doing this very thing in the US – from book clubs to boy scout troops. And while I am American, I live in England and I want to do something to help a bit closer to home, my home for now.

I don’t agree with the war.
And I’m pretty sure lots of these soldiers don’t either. But these soldiers are just doing their jobs and sending a Christmas card to a soldier doesn’t mean you are supporting the war. You’re offering a little bit of holiday cheer to a soldier who has made sacrifices for you and me, no matter what you might think.

With the recent financial situation, I can’t really afford to get involved.
I really hate asking people to get involved in things. I have been dragged along to Mary Kay/Avon parties and asked to support friends and family in charity events. I know that it is awkward to ask for help. If you can’t help this year, I totally understand.  But if you’re planning on sending me a card this year, please take that card, write a message to a soldier and pass it on to me for this project. I will be more touched about that than I would be if I received the card personally.

What would I write in this card?
It’s entirely up to you. My message will go something like this – thank you, thank you, thank you.

I’ll probably leave off the bit about math class being almost over.

If you’d like to write a Christmas card, please email me for more information at cheerupasoldier@gmail.com

Do you see what I see?

I am already sick of talking about the upcoming US election and it’s only January. You’d think living outside the US would ease the situation. Then you remember that people outside the US are actually more knowledgeable about US politics than most Americans are.

When Europeans ask me about the candidates and then proceed to share their thoughts, I need to be “on” so I don’t make a complete fool out of myself. I really can’t end every political debate conversation by sticking out my tongue and saying, “Well, I get to vote and you don’t, so there!”

I’m tired of talking politics with everyone from the supermarket cashier to the cab driver. But if someone wants to talk about how much Mike Huckabee looks like President Logan from 24, I’m all for that. Anyone…anyone?

Holy politics, Batman!

Scott has “jokingly” said his goal is to change my sister into a liberal by the time she goes back home to the US. His plan consists mainly of flipping between BBC and Fox News and making us listen to the two very different takes on the same news story.

We watch a lot of news.

So while we were watching the BBC news on Sunday morning, a panel of journalists were discussing British politics and they mentioned a government advisor named Adam West.

Lisa cocked her head and said, “Adam West…Adam West? Batman?”

Scott closed his eyes and let out an agitated sigh.”No.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Lisa said, defensively. “We have Arnold Schwarzenegger in office.”

Scott replied, “That’s your country, not mine.”

Turns out the journalists were actually talking about the security advisor, Admiral West…but I bet Batman would do a good job too.

Political Ponderings by Caitlin

During the week of our wedding, a popular saying among Scott and his friends was “Best goddamn country in the world!” If they had a tasty burger at an American restaurant, they said in unison, “Best goddamn burger in the whole world!” in fake American accents. If a gas guzzling SUV cut us off on the highway, inevitably one of them would shout, “Hooahh! Best goddamn country in the world!”

They meant it all in good fun. They were teasing me mostly about stereotypical American attitudes where Americans think everything they do and have is the best. I laughed along with them.

I also laugh along with the Italian girl I work with who is obsessed with American cowboys and has dreams of working on a cattle ranch. Whenever I return from the US, she yells, “Yeehaw!” and asks if I found a cowboy for her. I explain over and over again that I don’t even know any true American cowboys. The US is not just one big Western movie and we don’t all wear cowboy hats…even though she swears we do!

But lately it’s been getting to me. Not necessarily “the best goddamn country” comments but just the constant jokes about Americans being stupid, ignorant, insular, up themselves, etc. Other questions I often get: why are Americans complaining about gas prices when petrol in the UK costs $8/gallon? If they are so concerned about gas prices, why do they drive such huge cars? How come everyone tries to sue each other in America? Why is it called the World Series when only Americans play in it?

And although I am not a big fan of Bush, I am getting tired of everyone telling me how they feel about Bush.

I suppose it’s only going to get worse as the US Elections get under way. I am already being bombarded with questions about Obama and whether I think Hillary Clinton can win. And what I think about Bush and my thoughts on the war…and what about the “blue on blue” action where the US soldiers killed a British soldier???

When I prepared to study in London in 2004, during our orientation, we were told that we should all know a bit about our own politics since the Brits will know a lot and will most likely engage you in political conversations in pubs, night clubs, restaurants, etc. The woman from the Study Abroad department actually said, “Make sure you know who the vice president is.” And I laughed to myself…but now I know why she said that! So many Americans do not know who our leaders are…nevermind who is Britain’s Prime Minister and whether Czechoslovakia still exists. Several of my friends who are well-educated just can’t seem to grasp that London is a city in England, and not the whole country.

My American friend here was telling friends from home how she was moving to England and one friend said, “England. Is that where they wear berets?”
I have even had a friend say, “They speak English in England, right?”

I am also reminded of the time when we were living in Alabama years ago and my sister told her fellow classmates that she had just moved to Montgomery after living in Germany. From that day on, they called her the “German Girl.” They just could not understand how a person could live in another country for a period of time and not actually be from that country.

So why don’t Americans know much about the world outside the US? This seems to be the most asked question here. Is it because the media only reports on national news? Is it because schools focus too much on American history and geography and not on the rest of the world? Is it because America is so big that there is enough to cover within our own country? Is it because most Americans just don’t care?

I wouldn’t normally set out to make any political statements in my blog. Afterall, this is meant to be light-hearted and fun. Scott is usually the one who always works politics and current events into his entries!

But after a heated discussion at work about school shootings in America, no separation of church and state, and the difference between Mennonite and Amish communities (and as one of my coworkers put it–oh yeah, what about those polygamists in Utah?)…I rode the train home, fuming.

I feel like in most situations I can certainly hold my own (thank God I did a minor in Political Science). But there have been plenty of times when I just have to put up my hands and say, “You know, you’re right. More Americans should travel outside the US. Yep, we really should have better gun control. Yes, I wish we got quality news coverage on US television.”

But there are also times when I have to put my foot down. Some things I have heard are shocking, sweeping generalizations about Americans. We are not all Boobus Americanus. We aren’t all living our lives without giving any thought to what we drive, how much energy we use, what we consume, how we pay our low-wage workers, ignoring the class divide (or how we reinforce it), and whether we truly treat all people equally.

Every country has its problems. England is no picnic either. I know America, as a whole, has quite a few big issues which will no doubt be highlighted in the coming year by our own politicians. But if Americans want to shout, “Hooah! Best goddamn country in the world!”…then so be it. And if Brits want to praise their own country…go right ahead.

As long as everyone remembers there are other countries out there and they are pretty good too. You just have to want to learn about them. And honestly, with everything that is going on these days, it can’t hurt to know a little bit more about the world we now live in.

Now back to celeb gossip…

Bureaucracy…it’s everywhere!

I had two simple tasks that I needed to accomplish where my car insurance provider is concerned:

1) Get a chip in the windscreen fixed
2) Get Caitlin added to my insurance policy as a named driver

How hard can it be? I hear you ask. The answer: a lot harder than you would think. I have so far managed to achieve neither of the above tasks.

We have this company called Autoglass who perpetually advertise on the radio so you hear them everywhere you drive. They cheerfully state that they can fix any windscreen chip and that all you have to do is call 0800 something something something – you won’t even have to contact your insurer, because they will do all that for you and “in most cases” (remember that) you won’t have to pay any excess (American: deductible) or lose your no-claims bonus. Their ad then goes on to tell you what may happen if you do not get your chip fixed before the overnight frosts become daily – namely your chip will turn into a crack which will then mean that the windscreen (which is up to 60% of your cars structural strength apparently) will be useless in preventing you and your family from dying horrible deaths in the event of a road traffic collision.

Better get my chip fixed, I thought. I picked up the phone and dialled: 0800 something something something.

After being subjected to the most awful hold music for about 7 minutes, the following exchange was had:

Abrupt sounding woman: Hello

Me: Yes, hi – I have a chip in my windscreen and your radio ads say you can sort it all out for me with just the one call.

Her: Who is your insurance company

Me: Admiral (who happen to be one of the biggest in the country)

Her: We don’t have a direct agreement with them

Me: So what does that mean?

Her: You have to pay for it up-front

Me: So how much would that be?

Her: Well…if we come out to you it will be a lot more than if you come to us. If you come to us it will be cheaper.

Me: Ok.

Her: So what do you want to do?

Me: Well, how much is it?

Her: It’s more expensive if we come out to you.

Me: Yes, I got that. How much is it?

Her: Well, it depends where you are.

Me: I live in Hatfield, Hertfordshire.

Her: So do you want us to come out to you?

Me: I don’t know. How much will it be?

Her: Well…it will be cheaper if you come to us.

Me: Well, can you tell me how much it will be to come to you or for you to come to me and then I can make a decision.

Her: Where do you live.

Me: I live in Hatfield, Hertfordshire.

Her: We have a centre in Watford, is that any good. Or in Hertford.

Me: How much is it?

Her: Well, if you want us to come out to you it will be £79.99 but if you come to us it will be £54.99.

Me: Right. I’ll tell you what, let me call my insurance company and see if they even cover this before I make an appointment.

Her: Ok, so you don’t want to book in.

Me: No thank you, not right now.

Her: Right.

Me: Thank you for your help.

Her: Right.

Me: Bye then.

Dial tone…….

I then called my insurance company. I won’t type out that conversation but suffice to say that it was just as laborious. Net result: If I want to claim for the chip in my windscreen, I will have to pay an excess of £80…right.

The windscreen still has a chip.

Task 2: Get Cait on the insurance so that I can actually take her on the roads rather than round in a circle in an industrial park.

Easy, right? Wrong.

Apparently they can’t insure her on an American licence (remember – one of the biggest insurers in the country) They won’t consider it until she has a UK provisional licence (learner’s permit). Oh, I’m sure that if I really wanted to, I could get her insured on the US licence, I mean plenty of Yanks are driving around over here without a UK licence (they get to do that for 12 months) But I assume that would mean taking out a whole policy just for her which would no doubt cost about £2000 seeing as she has no UK experience. So the long and short of it is that we now have to get Cait a UK licence…ASAP.

That in itself is a task and a half as the only suitable proof accepted by the DVLA is a passport. Unfortunately, Cait’s passport still has her maiden name in it until we get back from the States next month and send it off to be changed. In addition to this, because she has been in the UK for less than 2 years, we must go in person to a DVLA office and get one of their employees to look over the application and sign it.

So, the result of all that spent time and effort is a big fat nothing. But at least we can rest easy in the knowledge that anyone who isn’t with Admiral, got their chip repaired for free.

Trains, planes and terrorism

We woke up this morning to the beeping of my mobile phone and a text from mum who was due to fly down from Newcastle and spend the weekend with us. “Have you seen the news?” As it was 7:15am and I had only just woken up and didn’t want to clamber out of bed just yet, I pulled up BBC news on my mobile phone (isn’t technology great?) She wouldn’t have texted so early if it hadn’t been something big, and as I’m sure everyone knows by now, it’s big. Twenty-one young British muslims arrested in and around London suspected of plotting what would have been the worlds biggest ever terrorist attack. According to the news up to 20 aircraft could have been simultaneously blown up while in mid-flight over the Atlantic between the UK and the USA.

Cait and I spent fifteen minutes or so watching Sky news and Fox news before I set off for work. Having lived the transatlantic lifestyle for the last 8 years and Cait having been so close when the 7/7 attacks happened in London last year, these things hit pretty close to home. It makes you wonder what kind of world we live in when 21 young men, considerably younger than me, are willing to kill themselves and hundreds of innocent people in such a calculated and horrific way.

As we watched events unfold throughout the day it became clear that mum’s flight wasn’t going to get out. In fact, all Easyjet flights into London airports were cancelled today so this afternoon was spent frantically trying to book her a train ticket. In the end we managed it and although it was a little more expensive than the flight, and 2 hours longer, mum will now arrive at lunchtime tomorrow and leave Sunday evening. Easyjet have also said she will get a full refund – which anyone who watches the TV show Airline will tell you is a feat in itself.

So it looks like for the next few days, maybe weeks, no carry-on luggage will be allowed on any flight and that includes any liquids such as drinks, hair gel, contact lens solution etc. Even babies’ milk must be tested by the parents in front of the security personnel at the airport. It would seem we’ve all had a stark reminder that this “war on terror” continues with no end in sight and according to Fox News we should all be very afraid. I, for one, will sleep even sounder tonight than I did last night knowing that this plot was thwarted. Flying is once again, that bit safer. Somewhere tonight, twenty-one dangerously misguided boys are sitting in police cells wondering where it all went wrong.

And what of yesterday’s news? That seems to have dropped of the radar today. But while many Brits lose sleep tonight over something that almost happened, thousands of innocent children and families in the Middle East are losing sleep, and maybe their lives, over something that is happening. As I said, what a world.