A whole year?

Shiny priceless candy girls in Spain

Some amusing search strings that referred to this or Chloe's blog:

• "shiny dress"
• candy packages sent to spain (Chloe's)
• visa priceless
• maren dresses phone number
• bar girls in spain (Chloe's)

I see you, too

Chloe's new house has a Web cam and she told me I should buy one. I don't often chat online and I've never been interested in being visible when I'm using the computer. But I chatted with her and it was great to be able to see her, her new watch, her new purse, the room where she's sitting, and then her host parents.

I had a gift certificate to Office Depot so what the hell. It couldn't be easier to set up and yeah, it's fun. I held the cats up to the camera one by one, brought Scout in (she weighed about 13 pounds when Chloe left, and she's about 70 pounds now), showed her outside the window here, held up a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese (which will still be here when she gets home), then called Steve and told him to run home and they got to see each other. The only thing he does on the computer is check various ski reports, and only because I made it easy by creating shortcuts on the desktop for him, but he thought this was pretty cool and remarked throughout the evening about how amazing it is that a cheap piece of hardware makes it possible for him to see his daughter, in real time, thousands of miles away.

Today I was chatting with her at about midnight their time. She's home alone and I see her on the phone. She said she just called Maren to tell her to get online (of course, she could have asked me to call Maren, a mile away, to get online, but this is all still new). So I called Maren and told her to come over here so they could see each other while they chatted. The smiles and squeals of delight from both of them when they saw each other for the first time in almost five months made buying the camera worthwhile.

I am not my government

Let's say you're from Hastaloovia and you're living in my neighborhood for a while on a cultural exchange. You ask me if I've ever been to Hastaloovia and I say no, I'm sorry, but I really hate Hastaloovia. I don't like its foreign policy, its immorality, its quest for Hastaloovian hegemony. And then I say, "But, don't get me wrong. I think you're okay." Whew - you can cross that concern off your list.

Obviously, in addition to being more than a little rude, I'm quite opinionated, especially where Hastaloovia is concerned. You rightly ask me if I've ever been to Hastaloovia, the country you call home: "No, but--" so you wonder how I can form such a negative opinion about a place that I've never visited. I can because, like bigots everywhere, I've equated you and your fellow Hastaloovians with the policies of your government, policies that I don't really know anything about, other than what I read in my hometown newspaper and hear about from radio chat-show hosts. And, like bigots everywhere, instead of visiting all sides of the issues, I take shortcuts and allow others to form my opinions for me. But you, reasonable person that you are, realize this and try to not paint the rest of my country with the broad brush of ignorance that I'm wielding.

You tell me that you (and many of your fellow Hastaloovian citizens) don't agree with all of your government's policies any more than I agree with everything my government has to say (an opinion I've happily shared with you on many occasions). If you weren't so polite, you might even be tempted to tell me that you used to hate my country, too. That is, until you came here and lived with, not abstract opinions, but real people, people who, you learned, are not so different than you.

And, we can hope, after living with you for a while, I'll come to discover that Hastaloovia is more than its government's policies. I'll realize that I've been intellectually lazy by forming opinions based on other people's ignorance. And the people who run these exchange programs, and those of us who sent our kids thousands of miles away, will smile instead of saying, "We told you so."

If it's too good to be true, it is

Our kids have always known to be careful on the Internet. I'm not so much concerned with what they'll see, because they can handle that, but with what might worm it's way into my operating system. They know not to download anything without asking me first, not to click on links in spam, to uncheck all the little boxes that say "I'd like nothing more than to receive many messages about all of the fabulous products offered by you and your nine gazillion partners," or fill out forms asking for personal information just because they're asked to before they can play online solitaire.

Yesterday Chloe sent me an e-mail message saying that a relative sent her an invitation for free text messaging on her cell phone. If you get anything from www.sms.ac, run. If you get e-mail from someone inviting you to join a free text-messaging service, delete it. That she and her cell phone are on different continents separated by a fairly substantial body of water until July apparently wasn't a deterrent to signing up for the service. She read everything carefully and couldn't see a downside. After all, Gmail is free from Google, and it's a fantastic product, so sometimes free is almost free.

I checked her phone and there was a text message from the company, telling her to log on to their Web site and enter the activation code they'd just sent. This, of course, means they have her cell phone number. So, before jumping down Chloe's throat, I did a little Googling on the company name to make sure that I was, in fact, right and that it was too good to be true. The first hit informed me that it was a major scam. Sending messages is free, but any message you receive through them costs $1 each. And they - wait for it - send you a message at least every day. Buried in the fine print is this: You may receive messages from SMS.ac or other users at any time. Also, any free message you send costs the receiver 50 cents. To opt out costs money because you have to do it from your phone, and they don't always honor your request. The charges are added to your cell phone bill. If you've seen incredibly annoying commercials on TV for cell phone ringtones and games for really cheap, look at the fine print on the bottom of the screen: for example, downloading one ringtone means you agree to a contract of $1.99 a week, to be added to your regular cell phone bill.

I was less than pleased, and even less pleased with the 35-year-old relative who sent a 16 year old a telephone scam and should damn well know better. How could Chloe fall for this? Probably because she's not under my constant supervision and therefore somewhat removed from my innate cynicism. Which, in most cases, is a good thing to be removed from. And because a relative who is no stranger to technology sent it to her (but, did I mention, should have damn well known better). And because people don't realize that their cell phones are computers that can get viruses and be hacked. And because these schemes are relatively new.

I called Verizon to see if there was anything they could do. They hadn't heard about it, but she said the best thing would be to change the phone number. All of our phones had the same prefix, and the kids' phone numbers were only one digit different. Not a big deal, but much easier to remember. Now Chloe's is a completely different number. Chloe feels bad but now she can warn other people her age and it will carry more weight with them because it won't be coming from a cynical parent. I'm still less than pleased with the relative, though.

She's baaack

Alicia's back for a couple of days and Steve's so excited to have a purpose in the early morning again. Tonight we had family over for dinner because no one got to say goodbye when she moved. After dinner Steve poked his head out of the kitchen and said he was going to get started on the dishes now because he had to "get waffles in that girl in the morning." My brother laughed and said I needed to get him a chew toy to fill the daughter void.

Steve asked Alicia if her new family made her lunch (yes) and if the lunches were good (yes). Then he asked for specifics and jokingly said that they probably didn't give her special treats (like candy bars - because every kid needs a candy bar in her lunch, whether she wants one or not) like he did. She started to say something and my aunt, laughing, interupted with, "You'd better say 'no.'" Alicia shook her head and said, no, they didn't ever give her those good things. Again, it takes a certain kind of intellect, especially in one's third language and when speaking with relatively unfamiliar people, to catch on to sarcastic subtleties like that. It still surprises me when she gets those jokes.

Fat lot of good it does now

This florist has a different name on their reader board every day. Every time we drive by, Chloe is disgusted: "Oh, yeah. Like anyone has ever spelled her name Sairruh. They have a free rose for Xeneosharia, but not Chloe?"

I've driven by this sign several times a day for years. Looking at it now it just occurred to me that it would have been a good idea to put their phone number on it.

What's that word?

Everyone said it would happen and it is: when Chloe and I talk now, she has to search for the correct English words more often. The time she's been there, certainly, is a factor, but it's also probably because she's not speaking English as much. She doesn't have anyone at home to speak English with, and we don't talk on the phone every day. When people told her that she'd forget some of her English, she thought they were just being optimistic and trying to make her feel good. Now she knows they weren't politely lying and she'll be one of them after she gets back: telling potential exchange students to not worry because they'll learn the language. And, after about a month in their host countries, the new exchange students will be convinced that they'll never become fluent and that she was lying to help ease their anxiety.

What's that noise?

A few weeks before she moved, Alicia was watching TV with a cat in her lap. I asked if Lucy was purring. "What?" You know, purring, making a noise like pttttttt pttttttt [does that look like purring?]. She bent her head down and listened closely: "You mean that noise?" She'd never heard a cat purr before. The other night she had the same cat in her lap and after a while got closer to listen: "She's doing it!"

I can't conceive a world where I wouldn't know that cats purr or know what a weed was because I had no experience with a yard or garden. Which is another reason why these exchanges are so cool.

Cooking

My last post generated some comments on ingredient availability. Even people who have traveled a lot may not have cooked much in other countries. A trip to the local shop in search of specific foods and ingredients is where you'll discover how different things can be.

Sugar is sugar, right? White, brown, and powdered. Wrong. In Scotland there were many varieties within each category of sugar: demerara is a coarse, light brown sugar, castor sugar is white sugar (of which there were many more sizes beyond fine and regular), and powdered sugar is icing sugar. Sometimes: there don't seem to be any standard naming conventions for food items, but instead are decided on by the manufacturers. Many shortbread recipes call for corn flour, which is what we call corn starch. I also couldn't find sour cream; the closest thing was called something else and was runny. Both Chloe and Alicia said our milk and Spanish milk taste completely different, too (I believe "disgusting" was mentioned), which could substantially alter the flavor of some dishes.

Chocolate chip cookies are a staple, right? Nope. After much searching, a 4-oz. bag of chocolate bits was all I could find in Inverness. In Asia or less developed countries I wouldn't expect to find what we consider to be common items, but I was surprised to not find them in Europe because so many of our recipes are borrowed from there.

So, if you want to treat your host family to your favorite taste from home and that happens to be chocolate chip cookies, bring the chips from home or plan on chopping up candy bars (which taste way better in the UK, at least). And don't be surprised if they don't share your enthusiasm for your lovingly crafted treat because it's probably not something they're used to eating.

Or, maybe I am

I don't believe I'm especially stupid, so why did it not occur to me until this afternoon to send Chloe American measuring cups and spoons? She wants to make scones for her host family so I spent some time trying to convert the recipe. There are lots of conversions tables available, but they don't usually cover everything, and most of them don't agree with each other. I had to have brought measuring cups when we went to Scotland because I don't remember converting the chocolate chip cookie recipe, but I don't remember packing them.

Tonight I was telling Steve that it's not always easy to convert measurements between European and American because they weigh dry ingredients (in metric, of course) rather than measuring them by volume and before I was through with my sentence he interrupted with, "Send a measuring cup to Chloe." Fabulous idea. It took him fourteen seconds and it took me four-and-a-half months.

Today was a day for errands, which were mostly for Chloe and Alicia. I looked for measuring cups for dry ingredients that had both metric and American scales when, after most of the afternoon and the purchase of spoons and a glass cup with different useful scales marked on it, I had my second revelation: she doesn't need to convert these recipes, she just needs a means to measure them as written. So I'm keeping the $8 glass cup and sending Chloe a $2 complete American measuring set. Now I'm wondering, what other painfully obvious things have I missed?