Bella

You know how the Bradys had Alice? 

And how the Jeffersons had Florence? 

And remember Rosie from the Jetsons? 

And who could forget Mrs. Garrett and the Drummonds? 

Well, we, the Tomczaks, we have Bella.

This is not Bella.  This is Microsoft clip art.  I would like to post a picture of Bella, but it's a bit awkward to say, "Hey Bella, can you smile for the camera?  I want to put a snapshot of you up on my blog so people can see who is making our coffee and washing our socks".

Before you get  your panties in a bunch, from either excitement or disgust, let me just say that having a live-in "helper", as they are called here, is not some kind of grand statement on social standing.  It is common here.  Very common.  In fact all, the apartments we looked at, every last one, had a designated helper's bedroom.  And take a look around the grocery stores, check out who's standing at the bus stops, see who is attached to the hand of the small child you see at the beach and you'll most likely see a Filipino helper.

We "inherited" Bella from Gene's co-worker who had the last Hong Kong gig.  Once that family left, Bella was in need of employment, and, knowing how well-loved Bella was to the last family, we were happy to employ her. 

I am blogging about Bella being part of our household because I realize that as we go, there will be questions as to who is minding the children as Gene and I enjoy some of Hong Kong's sights and sounds.  Many of our friends and family have known about Bella from the beginning.  Some do not.  Now we are all on the same page.

I first met Bella back in May when we signed off on her work contract that would keep her residency in Hong Kong valid.  I asked her "Is there anything I should know?".  I thought she would tell me that her Sundays are off; that she doesn't do windows; that she prefers to cook with fresh chicken as opposed to frozen.  Instead, she said this.  "I am 49 years old.  I have 4 children.  I do this for them". 

In that moment I realized how alike we were.  Two mothers, from opposite sides of the world, living two very different lives, but propelled by the needs and hopes and dreams of their children, by the desire for them to have more, to do better, to be more. 

Two mothers, so very different, but so very much the same.

Wu Here!

As our son, Tripp, becomes more and more verbal, he's picked up some phrases he likes to use on a regular basis.  One of his favorites: "Wu Here!".  Translation: "We're Here!".  And yes, my son, indeed we are here, halfway around the world in Hong Kong.

Just so everyone is clear on the timeline, we closed on 5245 on June 15th, spent a few days in a Triangle hotel and managed to get a speeding ticket in Cary before we shoved off to Pennsylvania for just over three weeks.  Initially, I was a just a tad bit terrified at spending so much time in the city of my birth.  That's a long time to live under mom and dad's roof after living away from it for so long.  But our time in Erie couldn't have gone any better.  We went to the amusement park.  We went to the zoo.  We drove to Barcelona Harbor in New York and bought a smoked fish.  We picked strawberries and swam in swimming pools.  We took walks in the neighborhood I lived as a teenager and bought lots of scratch off lottery tickets from the corner store.  We did lots of visiting and had tons of fun.  And through it all I was constantly reminding myself, "enjoy it", knowing life would soon be very different.  But as much as we tell ourselves to relish that time, to tuck away in our memory bank the sticky sweet smell of strawberries smashed on the bottoms of our sandals, the grainy feel of Presque Isle sand between our toes, the delightful squeals of the kids jumping in the pool, you just can't.  You want to, but you just can't.  The memory is there, but the moment, gone.

We left Erie on Monday, July 11th and landed on the island of Hong Kong on Tuesday, July 12th at 7pm Hong Kong time, 7am back in the States.  In case you are wondering, our children were nothing but perfect on our journey.  Happy to ride in an airplane, chow down on bowls of ice cream, and screen movies of their choice from the comfort of their seats, the kids happily, and then sleepily, endured the trip to Hong Kong. 

I did have this idealistic vision of me snapping photos to chronicle our arrival.  Maybe pictures of us in the airport surrounded by luggage, which I would label "let the games begin!", but that obviously did not happen.  We got off the plane, exhausted, excited, eager, scared, apprehensive, worried, confused, happy, homesick and amazed, amongst other things.  We dragged two kids through the airport, to the shuttle service while pushing two carts loaded with no less than eight suitcases, while toting another half-dozen carry-ons on our shoulders and backs.  The sight of two passengers vans reserved for our transport to our new home was never such a wonderful, welcoming sight.

As we sped off towards The Lily, about a 45 minute drive, the same city lights and sounds that greeted me back in April, welcomed me again.  Reagan and Tripp had totally opposite reactions to their new surroundings.  Whispering "wow", Tripp was fascinated by the illuminated city, the speeding cars, the bridges and tunnels.  Reagan, became almost sick with nervousness, complaining her "tummy hurt" and whining and moaning for a good part of the ride.  Through the bustle of the city, to the quieter calm of the twisting and turning coastal roads that lead to The Lily we went.  And then, wu here!

Opening the door to 5/F in Tower 2 was like opening the door to a furniture showroom.  Our furniture had been delivered and invitingly arranged.  The kids, quite predictable, ran from room to room checking out their new beds, already jumping on couches, tunneling under tables.  I started making mental notes: Reagan's cheerleading photo there, Tripp's toy box here.  Tupperware would fit nicely in this drawer.  We are going to need to buy a large painting for that wall.  Geno was busy shaking hands, receiving keys, uttering multiple thank yous, accounting for luggage, and I'm sure, in the back of his mind, whispering silent prayers for all of us.  It's a huge leap of faith, a large undertaking, a big adventure, but a big change and as he's repeated to me over and over, he just wants us to be happy, to enjoy it.

If you follow me on Facebook, you might be aware of all the drama surrounding our dog Inca. Upon learning of this relocation, one of my first conditions was that Inca, our Yorkshire terrier, would make the journey as well.  Having adopted her just months after our wedding, that little canine has literally been through it all with me.  She kept me company on those lonely weekends where my newlywed husband poured over books, studying for his CPA.  She accompanied me on our first relocation from Erie, PA to Apex, NC.  She stayed awake with me on long nights with a terminally ill baby Mia, happily endured having her ears and tail yanked by a baby Reagan and a baby Tripp, and snuggles next to me in nightly slumber.  I could not fathom the idea of giving Inca away, or even having her stay with a friend or family member in our absence. I could never abandon her in her senior years.  And, truth be told, there is a good chance Inca will not return from Asia.  She is almost 13 years old after all. 

Anyways, months ago we employed a pet transport service in Hong Kong to guide us through the paperwork and procedures of making a dog an ex-pat.  It was all going so well until we got to the final round of paperwork.  It was just a simple form that a vet needed to sign off saying that she was travel ready.  The long and short of it is, no one, not me, not the vet in North Carolina or the vet in Pennsylvania, understood that also required was a sign off and government stamp from an official at the USDA.  What transpired was lots of phone calls, lots of faxes, costly overnight packages to Harrisburg, frustration at phone calls and emails not being returned, and prayers that completed forms would be in hand, in time.  And in the end, by some kind of miracle from heaven, signed, stamped, sealed forms in Inca's name arrived.

Did you know that dogs cannot fly more than 18 hours straight?  Because our flights from Erie to Cleveland, Cleveland to Newark, Newark to Hong Kong, exceeded her timeline, Inca had to fly out of Erie the day before us and be kenneled overnight in Newark.  With Inca out of our sight, we were flying on a hope and a prayer that she had indeed been loaded into the manifest cargo area of our plane to Hong Kong.  Once we got to our apartment, the only thing missing was Inca.  Would she actually make it?  Where was she?

I was in the kids rooms, starting to unpack when I heard shouts of "Inca, Inca, Inca".  I peaked out towards the front door and sure enough, there she was!  Stinky and scared and very thirsty from her long journey, but there she was!

So there you have it.  The story of our journey from the great United States of America to the land of Hong Kong.  Or at least chapter one of the story of our journey.  The most important thing so far?  Wu here!  All five of us.

Wu Here!