Week 15: 7/10/05

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=200 BGCOLOR="#FFCC80" TEXT="#080000" background="67cc8b83.jpg"> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Random Things to Make You Giggle"><B>Random Things to Make You Giggle</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id77.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Hong Kong Disneyland"><B>Hong Kong Disneyland</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id35.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Our Parkview Apartment"><B>Our Parkview Apartment</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 1: 4/3/05"><B>Week 1: 4/3/05</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 2: 4/10/05"><B>Week 2: 4/10/05</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 3: 4/17/05"><B>Week 3: 4/17/05</B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 4: 4/24/05 "><B>Week 4: 4/24/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 5: 5/1/05 "><B>Week 5: 5/1/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id37.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 6: 5/8/05 "><B>Week 6: 5/8/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id39.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 7: 5/15/05 "><B>Week 7: 5/15/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id41.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 8: 5/22/05 "><B>Week 8: 5/22/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id42.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 9: 5/29/05 "><B>Week 9: 5/29/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id48.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 10: 6/5/05 "><B>Week 10: 6/5/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id51.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 11: 6/12/05 "><B>Week 11: 6/12/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id53.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 12: 6/19/05 "><B>Week 12: 6/19/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id55.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 13: 6/26/05 "><B>Week 13: 6/26/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id57.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 14: 7/3/05 "><B>Week 14: 7/3/05 </B></A></div> <div> <B><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="Symb075c00b700f00000cc00.png" HEIGHT="16" WIDTH="24" ALIGN="bottom" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0">Week 15: 7/10/05 </B></div> <div> <A HREF="id62.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 16: 7/17/05 "><B>Week 16: 7/17/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id64.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 17: 7/24/05 "><B>Week 17: 7/24/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id65.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 18: 7/31/05 "><B>Week 18: 7/31/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id67.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 19: 8/7/05 "><B>Week 19: 8/7/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id70.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 20: 8/14/05 "><B>Week 20: 8/14/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id71.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 21: 8/21/05 "><B>Week 21: 8/21/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id74.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 22: 8/28/05 "><B>Week 22: 8/28/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id76.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 23: 9/4/05 "><B>Week 23: 9/4/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id79.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 24: 9/11/05 "><B>Week 24: 9/11/05 </B></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id80.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Week 25: 9/18/05 "><B>Week 25: 9/18/05 </B></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" width="100%" BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Australian Sunrise" ><B>Welcome to Chase family planet!</B></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Australian Sunrise" > </FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >    |    </FONT> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Welcome to Chase family planet!">home</A></div> <div> <A HREF="id22.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Adventures in Asia">Adventures in Asia</A>   ·   <A HREF="id46.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Contact Us">Contact Us</A></div> <bR> <div> Week 15: 7/10/05 </div> <div> <B>Dear Fellow Adventurers,</B></div> <div>  </div> <div> Surprise, surprise! I'm catching up! Of course, I stayed up until 1:30 a.m. to do it so it might not be coherent, but hey, now we're only... well, a new week just started... so we're still two weeks behind. But getting there!<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> Does it seem like we've been a little short on adventures lately? Or that our adventures have mainly consisted of going to the grocery store, or folding laundry? I think that much of that has to do with Mike's prolonged absence. This week was the one that the lack of Daddy/Husband time really got to all of us. Michael, who is already working an 84 hour work week, six days a week not including a one-and-a-half hour commute each way, was asked to start working seven days a week. Of course this is not healthy, not for Michael, not for me, not for our children. So it's more like being in "survival mode" rather than "let's go get lost and have an adventure in a foreign county mode"! This week had a couple things going for it, and a couple things going against it. A couple hits and misses if you will (which is Mike's contribution to this week's missive).<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <B>Hit - Sports Class</B></div> <div>  </div> <div> We have enrolled Nathan in a sports class at the French International School down the hill that meets every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for one hour throughout the summer. I knew it was the class for my boy when I read the description in the brochure: <I>The sessions are taught by qualified coaches who will increase skills and have players dripping with sweat and excitement!</I> I didn't care so much about the "skills" but I like the "dripping with sweat" part! Nathan has energy to burn, and just needs to run to get it out. The class is called "multi-sports" and it's a little bit of every sport there is, like high school P.E. On his first day it was painfully obvious that neither Michael nor I are very athletic, and have passed on nothing useful for a growing boy. We don't have sports equipment in our garage that we pull out in our spare time to shoot some hoops or toss a ball. Poor Nathan was trying to kick a soccer ball (which the British coach called a football, confusing Nathan to no end) down the gym, and managed to kick himself in the head with the ball four times right in a row. Can that even be replicated by someone who <I>wants</I> to do that? However, when the coach brought out some tennis balls and had the kids throw the balls at a hoop, Nathan pegged the target every time. I think he has been developing this skill for the two years that Ben has been alive, as he enjoys pegging his little brother in the head with whatever is in reach. When the coach brought out some tennis racquets and set up a net, Nathan swung the racquet like a baseball bat, sending the ball flying with great speed across the gym at all the waiting mommies. He only let Nathan try three times, each time saying "It's not baseball Nathan!". But the area I can really brag about is Nathan's speed in running. My boy is <I>FAST</I>. They were taught how to crouch down, rise up, then take off for a race, and Nathan's at the finish line before the other kids have taken five steps. It's amazing. I remember running track for several years when I was a young child. I used to run through our living room back and forth as fast as I could, asking my parents over and over "did you see me that time, or was I so fast you couldn't see me?", prompting them to sign me up for track. I had totally forgotten about that until this week, when Nathan was doing the same exact thing. He loves this class, loves his coach, and hopefully it will give him some of the skills he'll need to hold his own on the playground at school.<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <B>Miss</B><B> - Strep Throat</B></div> <bR> <div> So I've officially seen the doctor more times in this calendar year than any other, not including all the prenatal check-ups while pregnant with Nathan and Benjamin. Monday afternoon after Nathan's class, I got run over by a truck. Or at least that's what it felt like. I felt a little light-headed, and suddenly fatigued. I tried to swallow and wondered why my throat was on fire. I looked in the mirror, and my tonsils were swollen, practically touching, covered in lovely white spots. Uh-oh. Tuesday morning we headed to the hospital for a walk-in visit, and I left with probable strep throat, antibiotics, fever reducers, a decongestant, and the sympathy of the doctor when I told him that no, we don't have a helper and no, my husband couldn't possibly take time off for me to lay in bed and get better. Personally, I think I brought it on myself, the stress of knowing that it will be weeks and weeks before my husband (and therefore I) get a day off was just too overwhelming. The antibiotics did the trick, and the white spots and fever slowly went away over the rest of the week.<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <B>Hit - Date Night</B></div> <bR> <div> At the end of the very long, long week I booked a babysitter for myself for Saturday night. I figured if Mike could make it home from work, he could come with, or I'd just cruise around by myself and revel in a few hours of solitude. It turned out Mike did make it home by 8:00 p.m. A restaurant at the Repulse Bay Hotel on the South side of Hong Kong Island has been advertising all you can eat Shabu Shabu for only $99 a person (which is about $13 US dollars) so we called them up and made a last minute reservation. Shabu Shabu is like the Hot Pot meal we described many weeks ago, where they put a boiling pot of broth on your table and you cook your own meat and veggies. They told us that they were having a special on hand rolled sushi, and would we like two for the price of one? Of course, we are not sushi fans, but we were being pressured, and Mike saw "California Roll" on the list and said we'd have two of those. In came the most gorgeous tray with large holes in it to hold these beautiful cones of seaweed wrap filled with nothing that I've ever seen in a California roll before. We are used to crab meat, avocado and cucumber, surrounded by white rice, the tamest "sushi" there is. These California rolls were anything but tame. Mike took a bite and started gagging, with tears streaming down his face he bagged me to save myself from a similar fate and not try them. So we left them sitting on the table, wilting in their rejection, gaining us a glare from the chef in the open kitchen who wondered why we didn't eat his stunningly beautiful creations. We did however polish off <I>twelve </I>plates of beef before we were both so full we couldn't take any more. Then we left the restaurant and walked hand in hand to the Repulse Bay beach, and looked at the giant statues of the various gods of the sea, which were a little frightening in the dark right on the water's edge. We walked to the end of a pier, and sat watching some fishermen in the South China Sea. After a totally insane week of hyper kids, a sick mom, and an absentee, overworked dad, it was a peaceful oasis in a beautiful locale. Of course we got eaten alive by all the mosquitoes, and the humid air made our shirts stick to our skin, but it was a much needed time out.<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <B>Miss - Museum</B></div> <bR> <div> Earlier in the day I had made plans to meet up with Robbi to go to the Hong Kong Heritage Museum in Sha Tin. I have read amazing reviews about how exceptionally child friendly the place is, and how it's the BEST museum in Hong Kong, not to be missed. I wasn't feeling sick enough to spend yet another day cooped up in the house, but with the perspective of hindsight I probably wasn't feeling well enough to take on this particular outing. I took a taxi to the MTR station, and was dropped off no where near where I had intended for the driver to take me, then took two lines to get to our meeting point. Together with Robbi we boarded the KCR East Railway which goes from the Kowloon Peninsula all the way up into China. That was not our destination, but it was exciting to be so close. Then we took another taxi to the museum. The good thing was that the museum was very inexpensive, about $1.30 US for me, and 65 cents for Nathan.<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <div> I think our fatal mistake was taking the boys into the children's area first. Everything was very hands on, they had a toy section filled with antique toys and newer toys that you could actually play with. We saw a Chinese version of chutes and ladders which I want to find in a toy store somewhere here. There were many interactive computer learning centers, a dress up area, and a Mai Po Wetlands area with an aquarium. The bad thing was that there was a school group there of perfect Chinese children, probably close to Nathan's age, that were absolutely silent, standing in perfect rows, doing exactly as their teacher and chaperones asked. My two children made more noise than the collective lot of 20 students. This was embarrassing, but I felt so detached, like I was watching someone else's children misbehave and could do nothing to stop it. The perfection of the Chinese kids only served to accentuate the wildness of my monkeys. We decided to leave the children's area to see the rest of the place, and we quickly collected three security types who followed us everywhere we went. If the kids made a peep, they were quickly shushed. If they ran, they were told to walk. It was hard for them to switch gears, since in the children's area, it was all about making noise and movement and touching, and suddenly they weren't allowed to do that. </div> <bR> <div> It had been raining most of the day, but during a brief sunny moment we snuck out into a inner courtyard to let the boys run and splash through puddles and get "it" out of their systems. The slightly creepy thing was that we were being watched by the security guards on all three levels, staring out at us in the courtyard. I felt a little bit like the end of the stage musical of <I>The Sound of Music</I>, when the VonTrapps are singing on stage and the Nazi's enter the theater and stand all around the audience, staring menacingly. We hit the museum gift shop and passed on the museum's snack shop which looked more like a fancy tea house than anything, and took a bus back to the train station. We tried to find a restaurant to feed Robbi and I and the boys, but everything was packed, nothing looked child friendly, and my reserves of energy had long since been depleted. We ended up at McDonald's, where the boys charmed a worker into giving them balloons on sticks. Of course, they became weapons, and back at the train station Robbi and I parted ways and I headed home with the boys and their sticks. On the packed and crowded afternoon train, we were shoved in like dirty clothing in my overflowing laundry basket, everyone smelling very ripe. Nathan screamed at everyone, bitter that there was no where to sit down. I had to switch trains twice, the whole time carrying Benjamin who was beyond tired and therefore vocally expressing his displeasure with all inhabitants of the earth. My arms were on fire from his weight, my patience was drained, and I still had to find a taxi to get home. I'm tired again just thinking about it! </div> <bR> <div> At the end of the day, my thought was that if the Hong Kong Heritage Museum is the best that the country has to offer, I don't need to see the rest! But considering I spent most of the time feeling like I was running through quicksand after my unruly kids, I have to say I didn't really see much of the museum, and I'd be willing to try it out again. At home, Ben went down for a nap, and I curled up with Nathan, and held him for 45 minutes while he expressed a wide range of angry emotions, and finally collapsed in tears, admitting that he's so sad about never seeing his dad that he just wants everyone else to hurt as much as he hurts. I cried right along with him, and we tried to talk about better outlets for expressing his sorrow and anger that do not involve running wild through museums and making death threats with balloon sticks to our fellow travelers on trains. </div> <bR> <div> <B>Hit - Remembering There is a Reason We Are Here...</B></div> <bR> <div> On Sunday we had a surprise visitor! The sister-in-law to my friend Cezanne who lives in Northern California arrived in Hong Kong for four weeks to take an intensive Chinese language course. Matthea came with us to brunch after church, and we marveled about the path that led us here to Hong Kong. As hard as this week has been, I was seriously contemplating jumping on a plane with the boys to go stay with my parents. What is the point of being here if we are miserable and never see Michael? But I think seeing Matthea helped so much, even though she didn't do a thing other than show up at the right place at the right time. Almost two years ago, right after Benjamin was born, we learned that Michael's job with American Musical Theater of San Jose was more than likely going to be eliminated. At the same time Disney called up with the job offer that for once was too good to refuse, especially in light of the possible job loss if we stayed in Northern California. On nearly the same day that the offer was made to Michael, we bumped into Cezanne and were introduced to Matthea who told us how she'd lived in Hong Kong for parts of her youth and had attended university there. She was about to head there for a wedding, and asked if we'd like her to pick up some material about the place, etc. A few weeks later, Cezanne handed us a bag filled with brochures and guidemaps and magazines, and a folder from the church that we are currently attending. I read every word of everything she gave us, and felt the first little butterfly wings in my belly of possible excitement about moving to L.A. for a year, followed by up to a year in Hong Kong. Mike took a business trip last summer and met some people which we emailed back and forth with for six months, ensuring that we'd arrive with friends already made, all because of the stack of papers Matthea brought back for us. So we took the plunge and ended up here, for less time than expected, but here none the less. And remarkably, at the lowest point of thinking we've made a mistake in dragging the whole family here (not like there were too many other choices!), in walks Matthea once again, forcing me to remember those little butterfly wings. So once again, it's time to pull up those bootstraps and get back in the saddle and ride this bucking bronco until the buzzer goes off in September and we leave Hong Kong. We are here for a reason, and if we survive this, then we'll survive anything. This is hard, but I'm nothing if not determined. </div> <bR> <div> So what do you say we try to add in some more adventures that don't involve matching socks and making macaroni and cheese? I'm in if you are!</div> <bR> <div> <B>Happy traveling!</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#00BF00" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <div> <B>Heather, Michael, Nathan, and Benjamin Chase</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <div> <TABLE BORDER="2" CELLPADDING="2" CELLSPACING="1" WIDTH="771" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" ALIGN="LEFT" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 479 WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="4440e680.jpg" border=0 width="270" height="360" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> A friend of ours was kind enough to send the boys some 4th of July USA tees, and I tried to get one decent photo of my darling children to send to her to say "Thanks".</div> <bR> <div> This photo wasn't it.</div> <bR> </tD> <tD VALIGN=CENTER><NOBR><div> <IMG SRC="44618590.jpg" border=0 width="280" height="345" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> Neither was this one.</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </NOBR></tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 340 ><NOBR><div> <IMG SRC="442680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> Here I got them to sit still and hold hands, </div> <div> but then they started shooting me.</div> <bR> </NOBR></tD> <tD VALIGN=CENTER><NOBR><div> <IMG SRC="448680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> And after this one, I just gave up.</div> <bR> <bR> </NOBR></tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 534 WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="44a680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> Nathan at his Multi-Sports class with Coach Andy.</div> <bR> <div> This class takes place at the French International School and the back wall of the gym that is covered with graffiti is actually a rock climbing wall.  Can you imagine getting to take rock climbing for your P.E. elective?</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </tD> <tD VALIGN=CENTER WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="44c0e680.jpg" border=0 width="270" height="360" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> The boys got a care package that contained some cool bath dye.  Benjamin, who up to this point has shown no fear, even willing to go down the tall twisty slide headfirst at 14 months, decided that pink water was the thing to change all that.  It was like trying to give a cat a bath!  So he got a sponge bath that night and the dye will have to wait for the odd time that they don't take a bath together...</div> <bR> </tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 341 WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="44e680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> The Children's room at the Hong Kong Heritage museum.  Kids can climb under the aquarium and feel like they're in the water.</div> <bR> </tD> <tD VALIGN=CENTER><NOBR><div> <IMG SRC="450680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> But Benjamin preferred to just watch his brother do it!</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> </NOBR></tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 414 WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="4520e680.jpg" border=0 width="270" height="360" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> The Japanese Restaurant at the Repulse Bay Hotel on the south side of Hong Kong Island.</div> <bR> </tD> <tD VALIGN=CENTER WIDTH="376"><div> <IMG SRC="454680e0.jpg" border=0 width="360" height="270" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> Hong Kong has a large number of Filipinos living here, primarily the domestic helpers.  On Sunday, they marched in protest over Philippine president Gloria Arroyo's exiled husband arriving in Hong Kong for a few days.  We had to take a very long route home to get past the protestors who blocked traffic by walking in a line for about half a mile.</div> </tD> </tR> </TABLE></div> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>