Natural Disasters

It's nearing the end of August.  There's a fearsome hurricane forming in the Atlantic Ocean and a freakish earthquake recently shook the east coast of the USA.  Watching too much news coverage of these events has forced me into reminiscing/recalling/remembering the tumultuous disasters that we (me and the hubby) have been associated with.

The strongest tornado ever recorded happened in the OKC metro area on May 3, 1999.  My sister's house was completely wiped out.  As she frantically held the wrists of my nieces while crouched in the bathtub, my brother-in-law covered his girls with a mattress.  It's horrific to think what could have happened to them.  They lost their neighborhood, home, vehicles, photo albums, keep sakes, clothes and sense of security.  For the first 18 years of my life, I was fully aware that I lived in a severe weather prone area, but I never thought that it could truly affect me.  And it was with only one degree of separation that I was forever changed by this powerful, swirling wind.

The calm before the storm:
Brooke and the pups waiting for the hurricane to arrive

The hubby and I moved to Houston during the winter of 2007.  Category 3 Hurricane Ike bulls-eyed the city that following summer.  We lived far enough away from the coast that we were told by authorities to not evacuate and to just ride out the storm in our house.  Which we did.  Which was very scary. Which ended up being just fine.  Which resulted in 2 weeks without electricity.  The dogs and I were refugees with family in OKC while we waited for the power = a/c to bring relief from the Houston heat.  Meanwhile, the hubby flew to the Middle East for work.  He always misses the good stuff.

After Ike:  clean up of our once beautiful pergola

In Denver, we didn't encounter a per se defined natural disaster.  But, the amount of snow that we received our first (and only) October was overwhelming.  Feet and feet of the dreaded white stuff.  While shoveling the driveway, I wondered, "where am I supposed to put all of this?"  Denver is not for the fair-weathered or thin-blooded.   

Kyle and the pups play in the Denver snow

Kyle and Brooke at the top of Kok Tobe in Almaty,
a mountainous region of the count

Both Almaty, Kazakhstan, and Baku, Azerbaijan, are located in high seismic activity areas.  A fact that we did not share with our families until we were safely back in the USA.  We kept an earthquake preparedness bag next to the front door.  It was stocked with first aid supplies, flashlights, bottled water, etc.  But, of course, as life goes, being prepared really didn't help out Kyle when he was in the Almaty airport, waiting in the customs line, when the world trembled.  He looked around at his fellow passengers and figured that the local Kazaks would know what to do, so he followed them outside and stood around for a bit.  His plane later took off without much to-do.  Later, we found out that the quake that Kyle felt was the first of several magnitude 6.0+ to hit the area over the next few days.

Variety is the spice of life.  Apparently, for us, that includes a multitude of environmental occurrences.

Home Sick

I grew up in Oklahoma City, went to college in Stillwater, Oklahoma, started my professional career in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and didn't move out of the state until I had been married for 4 years.  Many moons later, we're living back in red dirt country again.  So, it may be odd that I am home sick for some place(s) else.

If home is where the heart is, I apparently have many homes.  I made my first "grown up" friend in Houston.  You know the kind - the first person who you are friends with not because you go to the same school or work at the same place or are related to.  We chose to be friends.  We clicked thanks to a passion for kickboxing, but found out that was only the beginning.  It's still one of my most rewarding friendships.  I miss our gym dates, lunch dates, pool dates and couple dates.

Denver was idyllic.  With all of the fresh air, mountain bike trails, un-ending scenery, I mean, our master bedroom had a mountain view for crying out loud.  It was almost perfect.  The dang snow just got in the way.  But out of all the places that we've lived, this neighborhood was absolutely storybook delightful.  All young, fit couples, walking dogs, starting families, living "the life".  Our next-door neighbors were a once-in-a-lifetime find.  With short, picket fences between the houses, there was no one else I'd rather see when standing on the back porch in my pajamas.  Or shoveling the driveway.  Or sharing a fantastic home cooked meal.  Neighbors who became cherished friends.

And of all of the least likely places to make lasting bonds, there was Baku, Azerbaijan.  All of us English-speakers were clumped together simply because of a shared language, but once you started shifting through the "Westerners" there were some true gems.  Strangely, it was because the country was so difficult to live in, that we drew closer together.  There was something reassuring in knowing that other people were struggling too.  Misery loves company, so we took our pity party out for cocktails and then to Germany and Thailand.  Traveling and indulging with these friends created lasting memories and filled my photo albums.

Lesli and Brooke before the Kenny Chesney concert in Houston

On many nights, my dreams are filled with all of these friends and the experiences we shared.  I wake up sad for the past.  We can always be friends, but the circumstances will never quite be the same.  I knew I was extremely fortunate at the time to be making such good friends, but it's only in retrospect that it can wholly be appreciated.

Tulips bloomed in our Denver backyard just before we moved

Brooke and Adriana enjoying Thailand

Diversity

I love diversity.  I think it's good for all of us.  I was thrilled that the 2 valedictorians at my niece's high school graduation were Vietnamese first generation Americans.  Not to do a disservice to my niece, she did graduate 7 out of 400+ kids, because I was certainly proud of her.  But to see those 2 atypical Americans on stage, made me proud of our country.

One of the best things about living internationally was the opportunity to have candid conversations with other nationalities.  Granted, most were either British or Australian, so they really aren't all that different from us Yankees.  But, I think about 50% of our conversations were about the subtle oddities in our cultures.  From the various pronunciations of herbs to which holidays were celebrated to how public education and healthcare worked, the diversity was what made everything interesting.  I was  like the Riddler when I starting hanging out with a close friend who is Russian Kazak.  I couldn't get the questions out fast enough.  And then I had the chance to quiz another amendable friend who is Russian Turkmen.  I was captivated with her her experiences of growing up in the USSR. 

And it's time for me to declare loud and proud my endorsement for the television show "Glee".  Don't be a hater.  It's the best thing to happen to teenage-themed television since they did away with the after school special.  The singing is great, the story lines, on occasion, can be witty, but most importantly, it strives to promote tolerance of diversity.  Makes me a happy camper.

And back to the real world, I admire diversity and its unique perspective because you just never know about people.  It's the abundance of one-of-a-kind experiences that make it worth asking about.

I "Tried"

My first triathlon...I came, I saw, I did not quite conquer but, I did have a great time.

I trained for 8 weeks, but I was still slightly concerned that I might drown during the 500 meter swim.  It was a pool swim with participants being put in every 15 seconds.  I have one race pace - slow and steady - which doesn't bode well for me when I only have seconds before the next swimmer is tapping on my ankles, wanting to pass me.  I was passed by 6 people during the swim and each time, it gave me more anxiety and left me gasping for air.  I actually had to doggie paddle for a few seconds just to get my bearings.  I would be embarrassed by my antics, but with burning lungs, it was the only thing I could think of to keep shear panic at bay. 

Thankfully, my legs were still strong for the bike ride around Lake Hefner.  The ride was mostly uneventful, but in retrospect, I probably could have pushed a little harder.  I was just enjoying the uncharacteristically cloudy morning and the 80 degree temperature that was accompanying it - in the midst of a severe drought and record-breaking temps, it was a welcome reprieve.

Lastly, the run.  Got that in the bag.  Except for that I'm still slow and steady.  Never been a hare and I wasn't about to start now.  Finding my groove came easy.  On my way out the chute, I passed the hubby, who was finishing up.  He was about 25 minutes ahead of me.  He didn't even train for the tri.  That's what happens when you have mental fortitude, which I struggle with.  Nonetheless, I crossed the finish line in 1:41.  A Gatorade and banana to refuel and then a few minutes sitting on the pavement.  Whew!  What a morning, and it was only 9 a.m.!

I'm proud of my accomplishment, even if it wasn't anything spectacular.  I will definitely tri again.