Too Sensitive to Criticize

I used to hate being criticized. Heck, who does? Even if the criticism wasn’t adress personally to me, let’s say to my country from somebody abroad (Indonesians or foreigners), my first reaction would be, “Well, your country is bad too!”, stomped my foot, pout, and cross my hands against my chest; instead of acknowledging the facts and accepted it.

It took a question like this to made me stop and think, “Why are [some]Indonesians so sensitive (and couldn’t take criticism)? Is it because you guys were oppressed too long under Suharto?” I do remember, back then, if you dare criticize him or his family or even somebody in his cabinet, either you’d vanish from the surface of the earth or some other consequences with the same level of threat. So yeah… probably our skin got too thin to be criticized.

Having moved to a different country with more openness, which in this case happens to be United States (yeah… yeah… I could hear those cynicals saying, “Sure… praise the US… hate your country… etc etc”), I was ‘forced’ to adapt better to criticism. My face still got red, but I don’t stomp my foot and pout anymore. I mean, if somebody told me I made a mistake or point out my weakness, that would mean that person does care and it’s for my own betterment.

It saddens me to see how unacceptable some people back home are to criticisms. I made a comment on a friend’s status in Facebook -”… nggak heran Indonesia dilabeli ‘negara teroris’ or ‘no wonder Indonesia is labeled as terrorist country…”- which had turned into a circle of stomping foot and pouting. From that short statement only, one could understand that was not the one that come up out of nowhere and be the first to call her that. It was an observation. Instead of seeing it as a healthy way of looking at problems, they foresee the criticism as mengorek luka lama or to pick on old wounds.

It is a fact that Indonesia is being called by the international media as a terrorist country. It is hurtful to me too. So what? Somebody started to bombarded me with, “Do you know that the country you live in has this and that not to mention this and that [and the list goes on].” Yeah… again… so what? The US does have terrorism too. It’s a public knowledge. Is it really that taboo to mention something that’s a public knowledge to Indonesians? These guys got so angry, sensitive like PMS women and started calling me names. ‘Pathetic‘ was among ‘the bitch who forgot about her home country’.

Is it because it’s a very delicate mater, religious, or more spesifically, Islam? Ayaan Hirsi Ali in her book ‘Infidel: My Life’  is right then, the major problem with Islam and its followers is THEY DON’T THINK THERE IS A PROBLEM.  I was going to quote the famous Ms. Rima Fauzi, but I couldn’t search that particular post in her website. Similar post written by Fitri Mohan is here.

A wise man once said to me, “If you can’t take criticism, go live in a cave. Or better yet, gro a thicker skin!”

President’s Speech vs Cub Scout Master’s Promo

Interesting fact #1: Some parents did not allow their kids to go to our school two days ago (Tue, 9/8/09) because Presiden Obama was giving speech to all American school children.

Interesting fact #2: School authority was actually forewarning parents via email if they do not wish to have their children listen to the Presiden’s speech. Below is an example of what was emailed to us parents from school, without disclosing anybody’s name:

We have received a few inquiries from parents about President Obama’s speech to school children scheduled for Tuesday morning, September 8 and how the district is planning to address this event.

The speech, estimated to be approximately 15 minutes in length, will be taped. Then, like other materials teachers may use in a classroom, it will be previewed and a determination will be made to show it as appropriate.  Parents who request that their children not watch this address may do so. The students will have an alternate activity for the time the speech is aired. We are not planning to use any discussion materials provided by outside entities. Those decisions will be made by classroom teachers.

The information we have received has indicated the President’s speech will focus on three main ideas: encourage students to set high goals for themselves, work hard, and accept responsibility for their learning.

If you have specific questions, please contact your building principal.
Thank you.

Sincerely,

xxxx xxxxxx

 

Like hubby said, it’s probably a political thing and the school just want to be ’safe’ not to step on anybody’s toe. He thinks it’s a sad testament to the awful polarity of today’s society.

Which will take us to the interesting fact #3: The day after the speech, just yesterday, my kids told us that there were Cub Scouts Master talking to them during lunch, promoting their organization and to lure the kids into joining them. My son was beaming, “It’s really cool! We will be making cars, roasting marshmallows, go camping, and sleep in a tent! I want to be a Cub Scout!”

How ironic is that -to use hubby’s words- we find ourselves feeling obligated to allow parents to ‘opt out’ of their children’s participation in listening to this country’s highest elected official, but not reciprocating this option for an organization that so openly discriminates against atheist/agnotic children (example here and here).

The school was trying very hard to address certain group’s feeling abouttowards the speech; but failed to address our (atheist/agnostic people) feeling towards this whole Cub Scouts/Boy Scouts/Girl Scouts thing. Were we just to assume that all the kids are religious (Christian)? Why wouldn’t the school forewarn us like they did to the Presiden’t speech? Maybe I don’t want my atheist/agnostic kids to listen to their promo and want to ‘opt out’ my kids from it.

But before we abruptly say ‘no’ to our innocent kids, hubby did a research about Cub Scouts and the like. And we were right, they are an elite religious/military-like club and definitely will not accept our non-religious children. Luckily, our kids are smart enough to know the difference and were OK not to join.

How ironic…

Demanding People are Insecure?

Didn’t your parents teach you how to say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank You’ when you ask for something to anybody?
Did you know that if you ask somebody a favor nicely, you’re more than likely to get it?
Weren’t you educated to be polite to everybody, no matter who they are?
Is this about self-absorbed and a need for instant gratification,  ’acting up’ and demand your way around?
Is being demanding and nasty your way to leash your anger on to others?
Do you know that by showing your rage, anger, tears, attack, whine, self-pity, etc to demand your needs would mean you’re a manipulative person?
Do you know that your ridiculously demanding behavior shows that you’re an insecure person?

“I pity the fool!” – Mr. T 

**To fellow receptionists/customer services: “Hang in there!”

“The Ball was IN, you Cheater!”

I’ve always thought that tennis is a gentleman’s sport. Where the spectators need to ‘behave’ and not acting too rowdy like football, baseball or soccer. When you watch the US Open or the Wimbledon, you’d see the female spectators were dressed ever so elegantly. Big fancy sun hat, fashion shades, cute dres… tres chic!

But, having gone to some tournaments for our daughter, Davi, I quickly learned that it’s not always the case. I saw a lot of poor sportmanship from those young athletes. See, junior tennis has an interesting rule that -IMHO- contributes to their cheating behavior. I was dishearted because we, as parents, and the tennis academy our daughter is in, are always pushing the kids to be honest, fair and to be a good sport. My daughter always serves from behind the serve line, not even an inch of her foot crosses the line. She never announced purposely that a returned ball is out when it’s actually in; she’s taught that getting a point that way is disgraceful. The way junior tennis players were taught was, if you’re not sure whether the returned ball from your opponent is in or out, you should declare it as in. Of course, not everybody’s following the rule.

That was the case when Davi had her first tennis tournament in Omaha, NE. In the final, she was playing against a girl who’s two years older and much bigger than her. Let’s call her Morgan. Oh wait… that was her real name. Anyway, the snobbish attitude didn’t bother Davi too much, but the number of time she cheated, frustrated Davi. Nine out of ten, Morgan would yelled ‘OUT’ when Davi’s return was clearly inside the lines. Even the ‘line official’ was frustrated with that and sternly said,” Was that in or out? You want to declare it as out? Okay, but WATCH YOUR LINE BETTER next time.” But Morgan kept doing it. As her point went up, Davi’s confident went down. I saw the frustration on her face, like she’s trying hard not to cry. I could understand her pain, because not only it’s her first tennis tournament, but she’s playing older and bigger girls.

On the event website, anybody would be able to click on a participant’s name to see their history or records. We noticed that Morgan had played some tournaments before and definitely had some experience. But when we asked her parents, they told us it was her first ever. Why’d they lie?

Jonathan Casper from North Carolina State University wrote a report entitled You Can’t be Serious, that Ball was IN: An Investigation of Junior Tennis Cheating Behavior:

 Cheating in youth tennis is a prominent issue. There are many opportunities to make a bad call or call the score in one’s favor without an outside spectator being able to overrule because the players make the line calls and report the score themselves,. When faced with a game or match point a player can call a ball out that was obviously in. The opponent can question the call, argue, and disagree, but the call will stand under the rules of play. The opponent is rendered helpless against cheating due to the rules and the lack of an official.

Casper also wrote that cheating in junior tennis is a result of three influences: coach, parental, and personal. While there hasn’t been any direct link to cheating, parental pressure could influence cheating. He wrote, according to Robert Giltinan, a junior coach for the Australian National Tennis Association:

The parents are putting a lot of pressure on them (junior players) from a much younger age now because of all the money in the game. I think every match they play is really important and a lot of the time they are not playing for themselves, they’re playing for their parents.

 

How sad…

I’ve always been afraid to be one of those ‘hardcore parents’. Our son joined the city’s program of Tee Ball and it was not a competitive program at all. But oh my, there’s this dad who’s always shadowing his son, shouting at him, “COME ON, BILLY, RUN FASTER. YOU GOT TO PUSH IT! NO, NO, NOT THAT BASE, YOU’VE GOT TO GO BACK TO SECOND BASE! ” It was a program for 6 and 7 year olds, for crying out loud. Let them have fun. Let the coach/instructor takes care of the ‘teaching’ part. Just sit down on your folding lawn chair and enjoy your beer, I’d rather not see your butt crack from your super low rise jeans.

Back to tennis. All I care about is that Davi is still having fun playing this sport. As long as she loves doing it, I don’t mind paying for it, drive her back and forth to practice, even out of town to go to tournaments. I’d wait for 2 hours by the hot and no-moving-air court instead of the air con visitor area. Got roasted under the sun waiting for her tennis match. There is a difference between being supportive and pushy. The first one was based on love and putting the kid first, while the later one was based on your ambition thus putting you first.

Love, Deuce, and Butt Cramp

Blame it on the Wii Tennis. Since we got it about two years ago (gosh… has it really been that long?), my daughter Davi and I have been hooked ever since. We got really good and reached a ‘pro’ rank, that’s when Davi decided to take our ‘game’ outdoor. Being untrained properly, lack of knowledge on how to do the scoring, but yet her fondness of tennis kept growing, we decided to have Davi take a tennis lesson through the local Park and Recs program. We then took it to the next level, with her enrollment to Ames Tennis Academy. She’s been doing great since.

When I take her practice, I like to watch. I don’t drop her off then do errands. Though it’s a 90 minute practice, I enjoyed watching her every minute of it. I prefer to watch right on the court instead of through the glassy windows from the air-con waiting room. That way I could hear the sound of the hard-hitted ball being whacked by the racquet better. I could see better what Davi was doing, right or wrong. I could hear better the coaches’ suggestion to improve her technique. I also loved ’listening’ to her during practice, some stuff she’d like to say to herself like “Oh come on!” when she missed returning a ball or just a simple and quiet “Ugh” when she hit really hard.

I got into it so much, I sometimes feel intensed when she couldn’t hit a ball, or couldn’t serve right. I honestly thought she could do better. Well, it looked easy enough. That’s why I wanted to learn to play tennis. Plus, it’d be fun to be able to play tennis properly with my daughter. I’d like to be able to rally with her, instead of just a hit and miss -I serve, it’s out; she serves, I couldn’t return.

I enrolled to park and Recs program and it was done all night for 10 days, Monday through Thursday, started at 6:30 pm for an hour, outdoor. The weather’s been very hot and humid lately, and as much as I dreaded to go to practice after a long day at work, I managed to just miss a day -when Davi was sick and hubby had to go to an after hour meeting. Although at first I didn’t want to go, I ended up having a good time despite the bodyache, sore shoulders, and thighs cramp.

I owe Davi an apology. For all those time I groaned when she missed hitting a ball, I couldn’t do it any better. There’s something funky about this hand-eye coordination business, because I suck! I could see the ball, knew where it’s going, I placed my racquet at the right place and time (or so I thought), but when I swung my racquet, I did not hit the ball. It went straight through my racquet as though there’s a hole in it.

On the very first day of practice, there were 7 of us. Couple of days later, there’s another guy joined. We were asked why we took this lesson, what’s our goal after it’s done. I honestly told them that I just wanted to be able to play tennis with my daughter and to understand more about this sport. I wasn’t hoping to be a technically-advanced player or to be an athlete. Just to be able to play, is all.

To my surprise, I wasn’t horrible at all. One of the coaches, who’s also my daughter’s coach, said, “Now I know where Davi got her talent from.” He said that even though my technique wasn’t perfect, I did have a good posture and basics. Among the seven, I was right in the middle ability-wise. There were two younger girls who played tennis at high school and college, and one guy who took private tennis lesson at the academy where my daughter is. There’s this one Vietnamese guy, whose name is Lam, “It’s spelled el-ey-em. LAM. Not el-ey-em-be, LAMB. No em, I’m not going to baaa.” I actually called him ‘Engergizer Bunny’ or ‘Mr. Stretchypants’ because of two things: he has tons of energy, always hyper and talks a lot while goofily plays tennis; and he always HAS to stretch for a certain length of time. I mean, the others do the ‘warming up’ but Lam does ‘the stretch’ very seriously.

Growing up in Indonesia, a badminton-lover country, I had a difficult time adjusting to tennis. In badminton, which I played a little bit, we take turns in serving; while in tennis you serve the whole time in one game. Although both badminton and tennis recognize forehand and backhand, I got mixed up in the way we hit the ball. In badminton, you hit the ball mid air; while in tennis, you wait after one bounce. That’s how I got mixed up sometimes. When I saw my opponent return the ball kind of high, instead of stepping back and let it bounce once, I hit it mid air and ended up hitting it too hard, thus out of line.

My favorite routine was ‘volley’; where you get close to the net and try to return the ball just by ‘a touch’. Kind of like ‘netting’ in badminton. My least favorite one? To serve. I know it’s crucial, but I just detest it. It’s not easy to try to hit the ball from behind the service line, diagonally across the net, in the service box.

Now, the hardest part for me is trying to keep up with the scoring system, especially when we played double. The moving of left and right, behind the line or further in, was a bit too much for my brain. Added to it was the concept of love, 15, 30, 40 and deuce. OMG… whoever invented deuce, must’ve smoked weed at that time.

But I did have fun. Regardless how many times I feel like I was going to have a cardiac arrest, suffering from butt cramps, neck strain, or pulled muscles… I’m still glad I did it.

Now where’s my Wii remote… I mean my racquet… off to the court. Love, Deuce, ouch… butt cramp!

Age Denial?

This hottie tagged me on Facebook to share stories about ‘age’. She hilariously wrote (in Bahasa Indonesia) how she always feels like a 21 year old, and always tell people that she is twenty-one. If a close friend was nearby and gave her the dirty look about claiming twenty-one, she would correct it to 24. Still not her real age, I don’t think. Nobody knows how old she really is, but it doesn’t matter. I know her only from her blog, but I truly think she’s awesome. Not only she has the good look, but also very talented. That’s why I think she can get away with this.

While jokingly she admitted that she’s living in denial, she did ask if there’s any ‘mature’ person who’d feel the same. If by that, she meant to ask: is there any 30++ year old people who feel young at heart and act like one, my answer would be ‘a lot’. But I don’t know how many of those ‘a lot’ who would ‘lie’ (jokingly or not) about their age. 

Mine is totally the opposite. I’ve always told people my real age, never once hesitated. I enjoyed seeing their eyes gotten bigger exclaimed, “BUT YOU DON’T LOOK 35!” Liking the next comment even more, “Are you sure you’re not 25?” I am not exactly sure what makes people say that. But since appearance is the first thing you’d see, I’m guessing it’s my look? I don’t wear heavy make ups or ’pimp’ my hair. No lipsticks, just lip balm during the winter season. No eye shadows, only eyeliner. My hair is long sand straight, I don’t make it ‘poofy’; only occasionally when I feel like doing something ‘different’, I’d curl the tip of my hair a little bit.

One of my coworkers said one day that the reason why I look young(er) was because I’m Asian. I asked her if she was serious, and cluelessly she said that she was, but not anymore after that question. “I just think if you start wearing [heavy] make ups since middle school, whether you’re white, black or Asian, you’d look older than your actual age.”

My other guess why people would not believe me when I tell them that I’m in my mid 30s, probably because I’m a goofball. ‘Dork’ is my nickname -lovingly given by hubby and now the nurses and doctors at work are also calling me that, great- and I don’t hesitate being silly around my kids’ and their friends.

I do feel young at heart. I really think that people who are able to laugh a lot, who takes life not too seriously and not afraid to look silly; are the coolest people on Earth. Not necessarily going around telling people that your age is ten years younger than the actual one. But since nobody gets hurt, I don’t think it’s a crime. 

“It’s not denial. I’m just very selective about the reality I accept.” -Calvin (6), from Calvin and Hobbes.

Pic’s from here.

Drama of the Year 2008 (Vacation Gone Wild) – Part 4 a

It was already late in the afternoon when we left Los Angeles for Las Vegas. I felt confident in doing this, road trip from LA to IA. We have everything ready for the kids in terms of the car ride: booster seats, something to keep them busy (Nintendo DS with bunch of games, books, an instant digital camera that can also take video, and games), and some snacks. By the time we’re on Interstate 15, the sun was starting to set. We enjoyed the beautiful scenery through the Mojave Desert. The transition between the mountainous area to the desert area were amazing, galloping next to us. I glanced to my side view mirror, there’s this amazing sight of the big orange sun surrounded by silhouettes of the mountain and the clouds, perfectly framed in the mirror. I quickly grabbed my camera and snapped a picture of it. Carte Blanche thought this picture is sentimental. Awww…

 

leaving sunset behind

 

It was already pushing nine o’clock at night when we entered Vegas. After we check in to our hotel, we went out to the Strip. It was Friday night and the Strip was packed. The kids were wowed by the sea of people, the lights, the gigantic stuctures such as Luxor’s pyramid and the tall Statue of Liberty lady, and the cool cars roaming around especially the Hummer limo. It was hard to find parking in Vegas, the easiest way would be to go to hotels or shopping malls; in one of their ramps.

And so we did, after almost 45 minutes trapped in traffic and driving around the Strip, we ended up at the Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino’s parking ramp. We had to walk through the Miracle Mile Shops (inside PH’s Resort & Casino) in order to get out to the Strip. We walked around the Strip a bit, sightseeing, then stumbled upon Dante’s question, “I’m starving. Can we go eat?” Great. Late at night. At the Strip. Car’s parked few blocks away. Where to find a good place to eat? We were standing by the Harley Davidson Cafe at that time and could easily go in to eat like the other tourists do. But our family is pretty adventurous so when I saw the sign for Tamba Lounge for Indian cuisine, wesaid, “Heck yeah, that’s better.”

We were in luck that night since they’re doing ‘one night only’ buffet-style dinner. The restaurant was full with Indian families, which was a good sign. The room was warm and smelled so good, I was almost drooling. After we paid at the cashier, we were seated at a booth. The waiter took our drinks’ order, and then we’re off to attack the buffet. So much food, so many choices, and so hard to put everything I like into one plate. The kids’ favorite, of course, was the chicken tandoori; although they did try other vegetarian dish as well with no complain.

yummie chicken tandoori

Clearly satisfied with Tamba, we also experienced Lotus of Siam which was claimed as the best Thai restaurant in North America. Don’t judge a book by its cover is definitely applied to this restaurant. Located at an unassuming strip mall just east of the Strip (feels like in the middle of nowhere), the restaurant itself is just plain simple. Tons of reviews from any kind of magazines were posted on the wall, all praising the chef and owner, Saipin Chutima. Do order from the a la carte menu, skip the buffet, to see why this restaurant is the best there is.

 

    

 

When you’re in Vegas, you must see some shows. My only recommendation  would be to watch any Cirque du Soleil’s shows. This time, we went to see ‘KA‘. I fell in love with this entertainment company ever since I watched ‘Mystere’ (Treasure Island hotel, Vegas) almost 5 years ago, Saltimbanco (Paris) a year after that, then one of their smaller scale of musical shows when they were in Des Moines, IA, just six months after that. The show KA is housed at the MGM Grand, with magnificent stage and settings. The shop next to it was a fun place to look around. They have cool collection of hats and masks, beside other stuff. Walking in to the theatre was like entering a different world. Too bad that picture taking has always been forbidden in their main shows like this one, but I did sneakily took a couple of pics using my iPhone. The show was awesome, from the beginning to the end, with a spectacular ending that still gives me goose bumps everytime I think about it.

hats silliness

The next night, we went to see Nathan Burton Comedy Magic at the Flamingo. The kids seemed to like it, especially our son. I personally think it was kind of lame and pretty boring. I wouldn’t go back for a second time. After watching the show, we walked to the Bellagio to watch the water dance. Now that was cool!

At this time, hubby’s cold and sinus had went down into his lungs and he was suffering from the upper respiratory infection. He had fever on/off and started to cough. We were beginning to get skeptical about our long road trip plan. He’s not feeling well enough to drive, and my name wasn’t on the rental contract so if something bad might happen when I drive, we wouldn’t be covered.

‘Wasted’ 2 full days to wait for him to feel better. Ate out a lot, then went to see ‘Balto’ in 3D. In preparation for the trip to much colder place, we need to get some more warm clothing. Thanks to iPhone, we were able to pinpoint the nearest Target store from our hotel. Surprisingly, they don’t sell anything warmer than a wind breaker. We were planning to go up north to Salt Lake City and were looking for winter coats, mittens, and hats. They don’t have it, probably because they rarely have snow. So we ended up buying layered-clothing; sweaters and lightweight jackets.

Unfortunately, hubby’s not getting any better. From the sound of it, he’s either had bronchitis or pneumonia. He was coughing so hard, he hurt his back. He felt like shit. Impossible to drive long distance. He asked if we’d be upset to cancel the trip and just fly back home from Vegas after we go to see the Grand Canyon. The kids were kind of bummed, but I guess they’re used to it by now. So we booked yet another plane tickets from Vegas to Des Moines. Hubby was doing the bookings late at night again, coughing, and feeling feverish. Later on, this very moment will play a crucial part for yet another near-disaster experience.

On our way to Williams, AZ, we planned to make a stop at the Hoover Dam. What we didn’t plan was to stop at a hotel/casino in Boulder City for a heli ride! Hubby saw a sign for one and decided to ‘what-the-hell-never-done-it-why-not’ .  So we parked our car, register at the booth, hopped on a scale to be weigh, sign a consent form, then wait about 15-20 minutes. A minivan came by to pick us up to the heli pad, which is on top of a hill. Once we’re there, we waited for the pilot sign that it’s safe to approach and board the heli. Then I started to feel like backing up. Stomach felt knotted, legs were heavy. Silly old me agreed to be seated at the front, with Mr. Pilot, while hubby and the kids seat at the back.

davi's hanging on tight to dad

The heli started to leave the ground, then I noticed that I was surrounded by clear glass for the windows and the door. Felt like nothing was holding me but my seat. I found myself holding on so tight to the seat, especially when the heli started to fly up. My heart was pounding so fast, freaking out. The heli went up and down, sideways, and U-turn; it felt like being on a roller coaster on it’s waaay high up in the sky. We flew over the Lake Mead and Hoover Dam, also above the roads. It was so cool to see this little cars underneath us, also the swirly roads. Despite the fact that I was freaking out, I was managed to take some pictures and videos.

I passed the heli ride without peeing my pants. We then drove to the Hoover Dam to check it out. The four of us did the tour, which was very interesting and informative. We even took the elevator to go underneath the earth, exploring the tunnels and check out the cofferdam and the power plant. Done with the touring, we went outside to see the dam and oh my… the concrete work was impressive. To avoid cracking and crumbling, the dam was built in a series of interlocking trapezoidal columns. We also noticed that there was a construction going on over the dam, to built the Hoover Dam Bypass to provide much more highway capasity. See the pics here.

Done with the dam, we continued our journey to Williams, AZ to pay a visit to the Grand Canyon.

{To avoid a long and boring post, I decided to break this last part in half: Part 4 a for Vegas’ story and Part 4 b for Grand Canyon and closings}

Drama of the Year 2008 (Vacation Gone Wild) – Part 3

“WHY ARE YOU CURSING?”
“You’re not going to believe it. Come sit and watch this.”

At first I don’t understand, not going to believe what? As he turned the TV volume up,  I noticed that CNN was reporting live from Bangkok’s international airport, Suvarnabhumi. Apparently the political unrest was getting worse and the protesters shut down the airport. SHIT. We’re supposed to fly there tomorrow morning. I felt my knees were weakened by the news, I plopped down to the bed. The camera then panned left and right to show people (visitors) who were sitting on the floor of the airport with their luggages on their side. Stranded. Couldn’t get in or out of the airport. I bet they felt like Viktor Navorski (played by Tom Hanks) in the movie ‘The Terminal’. I let out a long, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“We have to cancel out trip tomorrow.”
“All of them?”
“Diny…”
“Sorry.”

Then it’s the same nightmare all over again. Frantic calls to the airline people. Was put on hold for ages. Argumentation with the rep about getting some money back because this was not our fault. Adviced to file a ‘dispute’ which will take time to be resolved; in the mean time we just have to say goodbye to some thousand dollars (airline tickets, hotel reservation, tour groups, etc) and hopefully will get a little portion of it back. Long distance call to Indonesia to tell my mom and brother that the trip was cancelled. Again.

An emergency family meeting was called in. Hubby explained what happened to the kids, that we’re not going to Asia thus not able to see grandma Rose and uncle Putra. The kids were not too disappointed at this point. Probably due to the fact that they’re not at home in Iowa anymore, therefore having flew in an airplane twice yesterday and to be physically in a hotel in LA was already like ‘the’ vacation for them. Besides, my daughter was not feeling very well. She was too congested to process this information.

So now, the question was: should we go back home to Iowa like a bunch of losers just because our major trip just got cancelled? Or should we raise up and make the best of it like an adventurous family that we are? I was broken hearted for the second time, and hubby felt so bad about it. He was trying to make it out for me. Keep in mind, later on, with what’s going to happen even more, I wish he hadn’t.

Some options he gave us: (1) Fly back to Iowa the next morning for USD 1,600, (2) Stay for another 10 days in LA or around and then fly home to Iowa for only USD 600, or (3) rent a car and take a road trip from Los Angeles to Iowa; stopping at big cities or main tourist attraction such as national parks.

At first, the kids and I opted for option #2. We would like to go to Disneyland, but hubby didn’t. “Could you guys go some other time without me?” After further discussion, we all agreed to take option #3. After all, we’re an adventorous family *snicker; look where it got us now* Plus, we’ve never taken a road trip across USA as a family. My husband and I did it eight years ago, driving from Iowa to Colorado. But this time, it’ll be longer thus more places to see. We looked on the map and planned the route. From LA, we were going to drive to the state of Nevada to visit Las Vegas and check out Hoover Dam. From there, we’d hop to the state of Arizona to witness the awesomeness of Grand Canyon, then drive up north to Salt Lake City, UT. Working our way east,  we’d continue our road trip to the state of Wyoming to meet the Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park. Continued to South Dakota state to be amazed by the Badlands National Park, then to good ol’ Iowa.

Of course, I have to be concern about a number of things for this road trip to success. Firstly, what kind of car should we rent that would fit into our budget yet will do the job? Dollar Rent A Car gave us a sweet deal. We originally purchased the package for the mid-size SUV which comes with Jeep Liberty. But when the agent realize we’d be travelling long distance with a possibility of driving up to the mountains/national parks, she told us to go to a certain part of the big the parking area where the rental cars were parked, and pick a better car. Besides, our luggage won’t fit in that card.

After circling the area around, we didn’t think that the other cars were better than Jeep Liberty. Then a big SUV approached, and a guy in a nice suit asked if we’d need a help. We explained what’s going on and he said, “Wait here, I’ll see what I can do.” Ten minutes after that, he came back driving a Chevy Aspen. “I think this is the best one for your trip. It’s new and was just under inspection recently.” I looked at the midnight blue-colored big ass SUV and I could’ve sworn I heard an angelic choir with a light shined through the cludy clouds. All four of us got in and instantly a unison “Whoaaaa…” was heard. It was like riding in a living room. Mind you, I drive a clown car, a Scion XA; while hubby drives a hybrid Toyota Highlander. As much as we hate to ride on this gigantic gas guzzler, it’s probably good for the safety. Thus, a trip to a nearby Walmart to purchase two car seat boosters.

I worry too much. After I worried about the type of car we should be driving, I also worry about what the kids are going to do in that long car ride. We didn’t bring a lot of books or games. Hubby came up with an idea to get them ‘the ultimate entertainment system’ for a long car ride. Books? Heck no!  Those are so yesterday, though I would personally like it. I’m talking about the portable game. We Google’d a nerby game store (thanks to the iPhone map system) and bought two Nintendo DS with the chargers and some used games. We got a, “Thanks, Mom and Dad! You guys are the best parents in the whole wide world!” from the kids. Even after we told them that it’s part of their Holiday present, they were still excited.

Then I got all fidgety about the fact that we’d be traveling north to a colder area, Salt Lake City. Since all I packed was short sleeve shirts, shorts, and sandals (well d’uh, I thought we were going to Thailand and Indonesia), with only a pair of jeans and sweater we were wearing when we left Iowa, I told hubby that we’d need to get more warmer clothes. But he said we should wait until we got to Las Vegas.

Done with the planning, we finally decide to relax and really act like we’re on vacation. We drove to the Hollywood Boulevard that second night (Nov 27th) we’re in Los Angeles. I’ve always thought that Hollywood Boulevard would be so extravagant and glamorousI was almost disappointed when I got there. Just a long road (boulevard) with pretty lights and neons on, with some cool buildings like the Mann’s Chinese Theatre. This place is well known for the hand/foot prints of big names in Hollywood. Along the sidewalk of Hollywood Boulevard, you could also see celebrities’ stars. I guess the Disney’s Studio Store and Soda Fountain was pretty neat as well. The ceiling of the Studio Store, the front area (above the ticket booth) was intricately red. We were ‘lured’ to go in to the Soda Fountain, to try the ice cream which recipe was dated back to 100 years ago. Sure was yummie!

We saw a lot of people in costumes. My daughter asked why those people were doing that, it’s not even Halloween. I told her that they’re dressing up as characters from Hollywood movies to attract people to take pictures with them, by paying a couple of bucks. We then went to see the Hollywood Wax Museum, the Guinness World Record Museum, and the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum. The Wax Museum has a scarry section which I wouldn’t recommend for kids under 12 years old. I almost crapped my pants myself! Scarry displays from a various horror movies were shown, and also scarry characters from the horror movie. I like to watch horror and scarry movies, but not too fancy about getting to close to the wax version of Freddy Krueger (A Nightmare on Elm Street) or Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th).

See more photos here.

Sure started to feel like a vacation. As I was starting to feel relax, hubby’s cold had turned into an upper respiratory infection. He started to complain his chest’s hurting. Is this s a sign for another vacation disaster? Find out in ‘Vacation Gone Wild part 4′, the final part.

… to be continued…

Drama of the Year 2008 (Vacation Gone Wild) – Part 2

Getting there is half the fun.

Three o’clock in the morning came too soon that day (Nov 25). As I zipped up the last luggage, hubby came in and said, “It’s time to go. Let’s wake the kids up.” Oh man… I haven’t been able to have a shut eye at all, and it’s time to go already? Good thing I dressed the kids in track pants, long sleeve shirts, and socks for them to sleep on. Once they’re awake, all they need to do was put their shoes on and get going. I was expecting some fuss, not wanting to get up, need more sleep, etc, from them; but there wasn’t any. They were actually in a happy mood when I woke them up. That’s why I couldn’t say ‘no’ when they asked if it’s okay to bring their pillows along.

Quarter to four in the morning, in our Toyota Highlander, on Interstate 35, I wondered if we were insane. After what had happened, with the cancellation and all, was it best for us to just cancel everything and not keep on trying? Is it like a bad signal that we’re supposed to follow and avoid going to SE Asia all together?

Four o’clock. We finally arrived at the Des Moines International Airport. Since it’s freakingly cold outside (somewhere in teens), hubby said he’d drop us off (and the luggages) at the front door, then he’d park the car and take the shuttle back to the airport *My hero!!*

When we checked in with Delta Airlines, they said that the four of us will be seated separately on the flight from Atlanta to Los Angeles! They’re talking rows and rows away, not only a few chairs. My heart sank. When we asked if there’s anything they could do since we have two little kids, they replied, “I’m sorry, it’s a full flight. You can try to have the people at the Atlanta gate to help you, but nothing we can do here.”  *What a great service*

That’s why I couldn’t sleep at all on the flight from Des Moines (IA) to Atlanta (GA). Not only because it was a small plane and unbelievably uncomfortable, but mainly worrying about having my children scattered around in an airplane for 3 1/2 hours on the next flight.

When we finally got to Atlanta, we had to hurry to the next gate. Hubby directly went to the check-in counter and told the rep our situation. Again, they were reluctant to help and basically told us that there’s nothing they could do about it and for us to ‘beg’ other passengers to switch seats.

Hubby and I nervously walked into the plane; we kept the kids not knowing what’s going on because there’s no reason to scare them. We told our 7 y.o. Davi and 6 y.0. Dante to just sit on their assigned seats and play with their game Boy/read a book. Hubby was seated 2 rows right behind Dante, so that’s good, he could keep an eye on Dante and who’s seating next to him. Mean while, I was seated all the way at the back and couldn’t even see Davi, Dante, or hubby. I couldn’t sit at all. I was standing up and all jittery. Delta’s flight attendant wasn’t helpful whatsoever. There was one lady who said that she’d check on us from time to time, but that means no shit to me.

Finally, I saw an African-American young girl walking towards me and kept looking at the seat next to me. She’s probably in her early 20s, and behind her was her parents. I asked the girl politely if she’d mind switching seats with my seven year old daughter and briefly explained the situation. She snottily said, “No thanks. I’m sitting here with my parents.” She didn’t even look at me or trying to see where my daughter was seated. Neither did her parents. I knew they heard me alright, but her mom just glanced at me and shoke her head. No sympathy at all. Instead, they sat down and ate their fried chicken they’ve brought along.

Time passed, and the plane was almost full. Somebody who’s supposed to sit next to Dante was finally showed up. She was about 40ish y.o. with a very short hair, dressed masculine, and a tattoo on her hand. A dyke, I thought. They’re usually nice people. Boy, was I wrong. When hubby told her our situation, she looked at him like, “And why would I care?” Her reaction when hubby asked her a favor? She didn’t say anything but shaking her head and continued to store her bag in the overhead bin and find her seat.

Finally, with only a few minutes to spare before taking off, I just grabbed a flight attendant who’s nearby and with [almost] teary eyes I asked her if she would at least check if there’s any two of 2 seats close together so we could be with our kids. A lady overheard us and said to me, “There’s an empty seat next to me. I’d switch with you.” OMG! I thanked her over and over again and quickly grabbed Davi and her stuff to switch around. When we walked passed the black family, I purposely said loudly to Davi, “Wow, what an awesome lady, huh? She’s so nice to help a little girl like you. UNLIKE SOME OTHER PEOPLE.” Davi whispered, “Mommy, why are you talking so loud? I can hear you just fine.”

Good things come to those who wait. Shortly after I got Davi settled in next to me, the flight attendant found two empty seats at the very back of the plane; which was unfavorable because you wouldn’t be able to recline your seats back. Dante and Dad moved there.

I don’t know why we would want to fly to Asia, because both hubby and I were bitching on how long the flight from Atlanta to L.A. took (it was close to 4 hours). Kids seemed to be enjoying themselves, reading books, playing with their Game Boy, watching cartoons, etc. The adults were really struggling *maybe the lack of sleep made us cranky*

Do I see the light at the end of the tunnel yet? I wish. While hubby’s getting our luggages at the bagage claim area, I called the hotel to find out if they have shuttle buses. When they asked my name, they said it was cancelled because we were a no-show last night. Are you fuckin’ kidding me? The hotel rep told us to just go ahead and come in and they’ll help us out. At that time, I was about ready to kill him because he’s the one who booked it. But then, it was that chaotic midnight when we both stayed up all night preparing everything, so I decided to let him live. For now.

We got to the Embassy Suites LAX North, talked to the front desk rep, and after they check with the Manager they let us stay one night for free because it was an ‘honest mistake’. Now, that is SERVICE!
Our suite was quite big for a one bedroom (we originally booked the two bedroom suite, but not available at that time). We were happy with the one bedroom because there’s a pull-out bed in the living room. The staff was so nice and the breakfast was amazing.

We were scheduled to fly out to Seoul (South Korea) then Bangkok (Thailand) the next morning. Davi started to feel sicky that night; sore throat, headache, and mild fever. Great. The concierge only has sinus medication for adults, so I had to go out of the hotel and walk a little bit to a store to get something for her. Unfortunately, they only had Sudafed PE and it clearly said ‘for children under 12 year old, please contact your doctor’. Since it was already night time, our doctor’s office back home was already closed. Next option was to call the ‘First Nurse’ back home for suggestion. Whoever that nurse was, who answered the phone, was not very helpful at all. All she could come up with was for me to contact the nearest pharmaceutial because that particular medicine was not in her stinkin’ data base. Not wanting to overmeds her, all we could do was to make sure she’s well rested and to have her drink plenty of OJ (orange juice).

As I was packing for tomorrow’s long haul flight to Asia, I heard hubby cursed, “Fuck! Oh shit! Hunny, c’mere… you’re not going to believe this!”

… to be continued…

Drama of the Year 2008 (Vacation Gone Wild) – Part 1

What was given as a Mother’s Day present -kids, husband, and father-in-law joined me to fly to Indonesia November this year- had turned out to be a nightmare.

[Early November]

Started with the ’scare’ with the Bali bomber execution news. Feared that Jakarta might be full of demonstration protesting that decission, and possibly bomb threats in public places; my husband got worried and ’erased’ the trip to Indonesia from our SE Asia family vacation plan. We were going to continue to fly into Bangkok, Thailand, have my Mom and brother join us there, then to Siem Reap, Cambodia.

Was I sad? Of course. Was I frustrated? You betcha. Did I pout? Just for a short while. I knew he was doing this for our family’s safety. Although I wasn’t mopping, I did not give up that easy.

I explained that ‘travel warnings’ usually sound scarrier than what really is happening there. By no means I meant to say that these experts did not know what they’re talking about. But having lived there for so long, I felt  frustrated everytime ‘travel warnings’ for Jakarta were posted on the net while nothing scary was really taking place. Heck, my friends and I were clubbing like crazy during that ‘warning’. 

I also informed him about these comments that were left on this posting; which basically the same thing, that the warnings were scarrier than what’s really happening in Jakarta. My mom and sister emailed me from time to time that things were  ’so far, so good’ approaching the execution day. My brother told me that some morons were creating a hoax through cell phones’ text/SMS about false bomb threats in malls.

[Around Nov 18]

After the Bali bombers were shot to death, hubby learned that Jakarta was actually OK to visit. So the itinerary then changed to Bangkok-Chiang Mai-Jakarta, with my Mom and brother still coming to Thailand. I was as happy as a lark. We were going to fly out from Des Moines (IA) to Los Angeles (CA) day before Thanksgiving. Los Angeles to Seoul (South Korea), then finally Bangkok, scheduled to land there on Nov 28th. My Mom and brother were going to fly out from Jakarta to Bangkok on the 29th.

Everybody at work was excited for me, they knew that I had waited to go back home for a long time. And not to mention the drama… oh they love it! Not everybody in the clinic had to travel half way across the world to go home. Listening to my effort just to get there, is half the fun, they said.

[Nov 22]

After working half day, I came home to hear that hubby [again] cancelled our trip. Bangkok, the city we’d be flying into, was having some political unrests. “They’re talking about a possibility of military coup d’etat, curfews, and airport lock down. We really shouldn’t be there.” Oh for shit sake, give me a break. Ignorantly, I asked, “Can’t we just not fly into Thailand at all?” Hubby replied, ”Unfortunately, we had lost some money from the first cancellation. There was some penalty that we had to pay in order to move  flights around. Ours from the US and your mom’s and brother’s from Indonesia. I don’t know if we can afford buying new-destination tickets. The airline company will let us change the destinations at all. The dates, yes, with penalty.” We lost the down payments for the hotel in Bangkok, the villa in Chiang Mai, and the apartment in Jakarta.

Crushed once again, I called my mom and brother to tell them that everything was cancelled. My mom was bummed not to be able to see her grandkids, and my daughter cried that she wasn’t going to see her grandma. I told myself, once again, better be safe than sorry… it’s to keep our family safe.

[Nov 24]

I wasn’t sure if it was his guilty feeling or what, hubby apparently kept on trying to make it work. Mid afternoon that Monday, he called me at work and asked,” Have you told your manager that you’re not going at all?” I said, “Yes.” Which means I had withdrawn my request for time off work and that I declared that I do not need a coverage for my absence. “Well, if I still can get us to go, would your manager OK it?” It was not a problem. My manager understood and okayed it. So I went home that day, surprised, and still thinking that we’re leaving on the day before Thanksgiving. Just like the original plan. Or so I thought.

Got home with the kids and everything, hubby welcomed me with a question, “Can you pack tonight so we can leave early tomorrow morning at 3:00?” Holy shit! So that night, while hubby’s working on last minute bookings for hotels and domestic flights, I called my boss and asked her permission to leave early. I called my mom again that we’re back on. Packing’s always hard for me, I tend to overpacked every time we’re on vacation. Took our dog to a friend to take care of while we’re gone. Did a last minute trip to Target to get stuff like travel-size toiletteries, kids’ books and games for the flight, snacks, etc. We did not sleep at all. We got everything ready just half an hour before we need to leave the house at 3:00 am.

…to be continued…