In this, our 13th annual holiday letter, we report on our journeys abroad and hope to reconnect with family and friends with whom we have far too little chance to talk. As always there is too much to tell in a short letter, but please check out www.conorandryan.blogspot.com or look us up on Facebook for photos and updates on the boys.
This year was a slow one for us. We merely attended the Shanghai World Expo, met our second Clinton (and our second Secretary of State), vacationed in Beijing, hiked the Sierra Nevada mountains, hosted numerous guests in Shanghai and moved the family across the globe to Barbados. But when I suggested to Kate we didn't do much, she just guffawed and reminded me to slow down and gain perspective - an easy task with our new posting in Barbados. While Shanghai was developed, dirty and aggressive, Barbados is slow paced, polite and clean. Folks say please and thank you, stop in the middle of the road to chat with passers by, and the epitome of a good time is hours of talking over fried foods at the local rum shop, not wondering at all what ever happened to the server. I've taken Kate's advice and already adopted Bajan attitudes for service and time by waiting until mid January to start writing our annual Christmas letter. She claims I may be missing the point.
The highlight of my work year was back in China, where the Chinese government finally agreed to arrest and deport a kidnapper I'd been after, with the child returned to his father in the U.S. I'll miss the American Citizen Services work in China, but am also enjoying my new job is as a political officer/analyst working on the US relationship with 7 Eastern Caribbean nations (Antigua, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, St. Kitts, Saint Lucia, St. Vincent) and supervising 4 other officers. I've already been to Antigua, and have a trip planned to St. Kitts. It should be a great three years covering crazy small-island politics and beating back the influence of cash-rich authoritarians on cash-poor island nations. Now if I can just keep out of Wikileaks in 2011 . . .
Ryan is now 2 ½ and retains his obsession with cars. He just came into my office to tell me Top Gear was on: “Daddy, Gear show on. Race cars!” I'm getting misty-eyed just thinking about it. He also regularly bests his brother, and at times his father, in wrestling, with his patented headbutt to the nose move now banned in three countries. Paradoxically, he's an incredibly loving little boy, as capable of a random “I miss you, Daddy” with a sweet hug as he is of screaming “Attack!” as he blindsides me in the patellar tendon. He's also smart as a whip, and quite the lovable little character, some bizarre combination of Kate's sweetness, my analytical bent and the ruthlessness of a ninja with a grudge.
Conor is in 3rd grade, attending school where one would imagine sons of sheiks are sent. The campus is a national landmark, a historic plantation, and the school is funded by the billionaire owner of the Ottawa Senators. There is something disturbingly appropriate about the children being taught in “chattel houses” formerly used by the plantation's indentured workers, but the Principal swears the instruments of torture hanging about are merely for history study. Needless to say, it is a well-behaved student body. Conor continues his Stanford online math study, and has added a history course to get some American history experience. His math talent is translating to computers, with his recent A+ computer report card noting: “Conor was quick to find ways around our installed software.” I'm leaning towards proud, with a slight tinge of “uh oh.” Conor is really taking advantage of his second Caribbean tour, taking cricket in school, enjoying the beach (including surfing and sailing lessons) and generally taking advantage of all that Barbados has to offer.
Kate is enjoying Barbados so much I fear no future assignment will measure up. My luck can't hold, and there is a decent chance that some bitter soul in personnel who just got back from Ulaanbaatar will make it her mission to teach us a thing or two about winter for our next assignment. In the meantime, Kate has been hitting the beach regularly, enjoying our lovely, quirky house and doing her usual amazing job making sure the boys grow up happy and healthy. Life oversees takes more than the usual amount of management, and Kate has been handling the frustratingly slow pace of things in Barbados with aplomb. Sadly, she has quickly reverted to her natural driving habits upon return from China. For a time, I hoped the aggressively efficient Kate that emerged to survive on Chinese roads would be permanent, but sadly she's back to strict speed limits, lengthy blinkering and lots of safety cushion, much to my chagrin. To make up for her regained conservatism, I have bought and regularly ride a sportbike, which I have only crashed once so far. Luckily, I prepare for a motorcycle ride like a medieval knight prepared for battle, except I wear slightly more gear. My little spill resulted in no injuries, thanks to the geniuses who invented Kevlar. I did suffer a massively bruised ego, however, and continue my wait for DuPont to develop ego-protective padding.
We are taking reservations for visitors to Barbados, offering a nice spare bedroom and ocean views from the roof terrace. We encourage everyone not to wait until the year three “oh crap, they are leaving for Siberia soon, we'd better go visit along with 30 other people” thought strikes you. However, due to limited supplies of almost everything on this island, and massive 100+% import duties on whatever does make it here, we may require guests to carry certain essentials in their luggage, like motorcycle oil, chocolate and hydrogen peroxide, for delivery upon arrival.
As I reflect on the year and my misconception of its lack of activity, I am reminded of the dangers of letting time speed by without noticing. It is far too easy to be jaded by our globetrotting lifestyle, seeing so many amazing things that they become normal and zoom past us with a yawn. I was reading The Sound and The Fury and was struck by this quote: “Clocks slay time . . . time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.” Apart from the irony of Faulkner, who says things in four pages that Hemingway could say in four words, talking about the clicking away of wasted time, I particularly enjoyed the Caribbean sense of the richness of each moment, of the need to experience the present, without letting time tick away relentlessly towards old age.
We leave 2010 hoping to continue to make new friends while maintaining with old as we move across the globe. Until then, we hope our letter brings us a bit closer and helps us overcome the distance our Foreign Service lifestyle creates between us.
With Love, From Greg, Kate, Conor and Ryan
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