One Year

Over the weekend we passed our one year anniversary as residents of Macau. Last year, on July 31st, we packed eight suitcases and three car seats into a shuttle van and lugged them to the airport, then got on a plane or two, lugged those suitcases and car seats out of an airport and onto a ferry, then into two taxis, and arrived at our hotel on the Macau Cotai Strip at about 4:00 a.m. two days after we left Utah (the 14 hour time difference helped).

We had been in Macau before - we spent about six weeks there earlier that summer. We knew what we were in for. I'm going to risk being melodramatic and say that as we spent our last few summer nights in our grassy Murray backyard, it felt like we had cancer or something, like we knew we were saying some tough goodbyes to a lot of things about life as we knew it. I know that's melodramatic, but goodbyes are hard, even goodbyes to items like a suburban life and big grocery stores and clean level sidewalks. We knew where we were headed, and lots of aspects of it were going to be tough.

Parts of the transition here have been tough, but for the most part we've adapted. It's taken a year, but I feel comfortable in our life, most of the time. That still doesn't make it easy when I have to help a kid use a squat pot or carry a stroller up a flight of stairs or when a one-way traffic lane is blocked because there aren't any shoulders, but it's now expected and doesn't get me all bent out of shape. That is just what is, and that is normal right now and okay.
There are things about this life that I'm going to have to adapt out of now when the time comes. I enjoy coming to the grocery store and seeing the same faces. Jozie and Haven each get a little cart now and do some of their own shopping, since the carts are so small and accessible. The workers smile at us and try to catch Claire's eye. Going to six stores in one afternoon used to be a pain, but it's kind of fun to go from shop to shop and gather the things we need for the week.

Shopping isn't the only thing we've adapted to. Someday I'll miss the heavy rain (when I'm not stuck in it) and the sound of it pounding the tin roof above our apartment's terrace. I'll miss seeing the ocean and watching interesting boats as they head into and out of the Pearl River. I'll miss the huge variety in people here - it's so enriching and amazing to learn from the experiences of all of these people and to enjoy them! I know I'll even miss the local people and watching them burn paper on street corners for their ancestors or play checkers in the park or (maybe I'll miss this) try to get a shot of Claire and her golden hair.

This has been a good year. It has been a tough year, but we're coming out stronger and having gained so so much. I'm glad we have the opportunity to be here.