Just Life

October 3, 2011

Everybody’s life is a little extra bizarre and stressful from time to time. Last week was definitely one of those times for us. And although we certainly had weeks like that back in Ohio, some of the week’s events do seem particularly Genevan in character. Eric was out of town in Barcelona and Brussels for three days of last week. He’s been traveling about every other week – which makes his life a little bizarre and stressful all by itself. Back on the ranch, things were pretty calm until Thursday morning. Biking home from dropping the kids off at school, I suddenly noticed Drew biking up behind me. He had forgotten his P.E. clothes and was coming home to get them. Momentarily forgetting that driving is the slowest way to get around, I told him to go on back to school, and I would bring his clothes in the car on my way to Bible Study. Then I asked, “When do you need them?” The answer, “In about 25 minutes,” took too long to sink in. By the time I realized that I would never have the clothes back to school on time, he was gone. Not knowing what else to do, I biked home as fast as I could, found the clothes, threw them in the car, and took off, praying all the time that somehow the traffic would flow smoothly. It didn’t, and as I reached the school, the bus carrying the students to P.E. was headed down the street. I continued driving, discouraged and frustrated, when I saw another bus pulling out of the school driveway, coming toward me. The traffic was so slow that, as we passed, I could see Drew in the window right next to mine. I gestured wildly, and the girl behind him opened the window so I could toss the clothes through as we passed. An answer to prayer – though not the one I expected! Pulling forward, I found that, in an effort to avoid scraping the side of the bus, I was touching a fence set up around a construction zone. The sound of metal scraping the side of our rental car made me want to cry. Miraculously, however, the car had only the smallest possible ding in the side. Starting to feel like I was in the kids’ book, Fortunately and Unfortunately, I drove home (I had forgotten my shopping list and bags for hitting the cheaper supermarkets in France after Bible Study). To conclude that story, although I definitely earned some Supermom points with Drew, he was unable to find a place to change, and so the whole effort really seemed to be for naught.

                On Friday Lucas was hoping to have some friends over, but he had been dilatory about collecting phone numbers or emails for the moms, and so I wasn’t sure anyone was going to show up. The plan – on our end, anyway -- was that Emmanuel, Luc’s friend, would come around 6 and stay until 9. Lucas wanted to watch a movie, so it was going to be an easy play date for me. Imagine my surprise when, while walking my bike up the enormous hill on the way home from school, I received a call from Emmanuel’s mother, asking if she could drop him off right then and pick him up at 7. Lucas also mentioned that his other friend, Cheska, might be coming at 6, although I had had no contact with his mom, either. I prayed for calm as my super-planner self met the unexpected. Emmanuel, who is from Canada, is taller than me (at 11 years old), and he turned out to be a delightfully nice kid. He and Lucas played soccer, skateboarded, played table tennis, and then at 6, the doorbell rang, and there stood Cheska (mom from India, dad from Madagascar, lived in the Netherlands and Geneva – I include these details just because I think everybody here has such an interesting life history!). He turned out to be a great kid, too, and the three played more table tennis, ate my taco salad, and watched MacGyver. Cheska’s mom lost track of time and ended up coming to get him around 9:30. Not at all the evening we had planned, but really great, all the same. I felt like our first foray into having kids over was a success.

On Saturday, buoyed by the success of our previous weekend’s hiking excursion along the Rhone, I decided that the whole family should hike up the Saleve, which is a small mountain near Geneva. So we hopped on the bus headed downtown, in order to catch the Number 8 bus to Veyrier Douane (for those who, like me until a month ago, had no idea what a douane is, it’s a border crossing – something that has become a huge part of our life since moving here, as whatever direction we travel, we end up in France. I even accidentally biked to France last week.). One of the important things that we have learned about the bus is that, just because two stops have the same name, that does not mean they are in exactly the same place. So when we disembarked from the 2 bus in Rive, we were not surprised that we did not see the bus stop for Number 8. After we wandered around a bit, a passing bicyclist (who turned out to be a British professor at the University) took pity on us and guided us to our stop. We had, of course, missed our connection, and then narrowly missed boarding the wrong bus (just because they have the same number does not always mean they go to the same place). We did, however, finally arrive at the douane, crossed over, and began our hike.

I had read on the internet that one could walk from the duoane to the top of the mountain in about 90 minutes, then take the telepherique back down. This seemed like a great idea, and indeed, turned out to be true, as far as the information went. What the post I read neglected to mention (probably because any dummy should have known) was that, while the Saleve may be a relatively small mountain, it is still a MOUNTAIN. And, as any dummy should know, mountain paths generally go UP. Being from the rolling but non-mountainous state of Ohio, we did not really comprehend the meaning of this truth. After a Saturday morning spent hiking straight towards the sun, we now know the difference between a hill and a mountain. On the plus side, the scenery was lovely and it was a great feeling of accomplishment to make it to the top. My wonderful, gracious family was, astonishingly, not angry with me for suggesting the climb, although they said they’d rather not do it again. Ever.  We celebrated with dinner in the land of free pop refills (Ikea) and a trip to the electronics store, Interdiscount, where, within 15 minutes,  both Johanna and I succeeded in knocking over displays and we purchased a toaster that has slots too thin for any slice of bread known to man.

I told Eric that I often feel like I’m starring in “The Three Stooges Do Geneva,” and the feeling continued on Sunday. We had planned to drop our rental car off at the airport after church, because we were going to pick up our new car on Monday. We found the rental car place, and all was well until the attendant asked about the trunk cover. We had, of course, removed the trunk cover a month ago, put it in the garage, and not given it a thought since. We explained this to him, and told him we’d bring it back before 6 that night. In my mind, this was a great plan, because Drew and Johanna were going to have to take the bus to youth group that night, and we could go with them as far as the airport. So, at 5:11, we were back on the bus, carrying the trunk cover, which really did look suspiciously like a rocket launcher. We arrived at the airport, returned the cover, and put the kids on the Y bus toward church. They had with them detailed instructions for the trip home, but I was still nervous – they would have to change buses twice, and they’d never ridden alone before. They were game to try, however, and as there wasn’t much choice, we took a deep breath and prayed that they would be okay.

Youth group ended at 8:30 p.m. At 9, Drew called to say, “Mom, don’t worry. We’re running a little late, but we’ll be fine.” They had boarded the right bus, but heading the wrong way. So they rode all the way to the end of the line, waited for the driver to take his break, and then rode back to the airport, where they (finally) caught the 23 bus back home. They arrived just before 10, and Drew thought it was the most fun he’d had all week. Johanna wasn’t quite as enthusiastic, but she hadn’t been scared, she said, just hungry. With all the time they spent on buses that day, they could have made it across Switzerland.

Flexibility and patience have never been chief among my virtues.  If there is one lesson I need to learn more than any other, it is to release the illusion of control in my life. I would say that the past week, and this whole move experience, is proving to be an excellent school for learning the truth of Proverbs 19:21: “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” If I am a really good student, can I graduate soon?