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!

If These Walls Could Talk

If these walls could talk they would tell you many stories.  Stories about an a man and a woman, a boy and a girl, and a little dog, and their lives and their hopes and their dreams and the past four years.

They would tell you about the joy of June 15, 2007 when they turned the key, their very own key, in the lock of 5245 Lake Edge Drive and called it their home and their own.

They would tell you about the birth of a baby boy and his late night
feedings that turned into a lot of late night television watching.

They would point you towards a chair where the lady curled up on the phone with her dad and listened to him laying out the groundwork for Mia's Memorial Golf Tournament.

They would try to recreate the joyful exuberance of a man arriving home, champagne in hand, to celebrate a great promotion.

They would recount a little girl's first days of school and the little plaid jumper she wore and the little blue lunchbox she carried with her name fancily embroidered across the front.

They would groan at the memory of a little dog yap, yap, yapping at everyone and anyone who strolled past until her masters scolded her into silence.

These walls could get a little choked up re-telling of the days when a family returned home after burying a father, a grandfather, all too soon, all too unexpected.

But now the walls will be silent with stories of this family and this life.  And another will live within these walls.  And these walls will hold their stories.  And other walls will tell ours.

Good-bye 5245.

Good-Bye... Farewell... Until We Meet Again

It was just over 10 years ago that my husband came home to our little flat on East 13th Street in Erie, Pennsylvania and asked me how I felt about moving to North Carolina. I remember I was standing at the kitchen stove cooking dinner and I looked up at him and I said, "I'm tired of being cold".

That winter of 2000-2001, was a rough one.  We had record snowfall that winter at 149.1 inches.  That's a lot of snow.  That's a lot of cold. So much so, that one might actually consider a move south.  So, when the opportunity presented itself, we took it. 

Once Gene accepted his company's offer at a job at headquarters in Cary, I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride that I had absolutely no control of.  Sometimes exhilarating, sometimes frightening, it was a constant up and down of feelings and emotions, highs and lows, until the ride came to a stop here, in the Triangle.  As we exited the ride, we glanced at each other and promised, we'll give it a year.  If we can't make it work, back to Pennsylvania we go.  

We've been here just shy of 10 years now.

These past few weeks there have been many good-byes.  Good-bye to school teachers, and dance instructors, and Little Gym workers.  Good-bye to classmates, to fellow moms in the car pool lane. Good bye to the babysitter, and favorite waitresses, and hair dressers, and the receptionist at the dentist's office.  And just like all people are different, the good-byes are all different too.

A few weeks ago I said good-bye to a group of women I have come to love, love, love.  I speak of the lovely ladies of St. Mary Magdalene MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers).  Three years ago, when motherhood was bright, shiny, and new to me, I joined MOPS.  At the time, I was looking to get out of the house.  Maybe talk to some other ladies who could advise me on how to mother like a champ.  Women who could debate Pampers vs. Huggies with me.  But MOPS is/was so much more and I became so much more as a part of it. 

As a going away gift, many of the MOPS gals wrote me up a little something and then all their kind words were assembled in an album with their photos.  Reading it was like reading a high school year book after making its way round the class.  Lots of memories, lots of laughs, lots of references to wine!  Many prayers and wishes of luck on our journey.  And there were also lots of thoughts about me and what kind of person I am.  It really is an experience to see yourself through your friends eyes.  It's a good feeling, a very good feeling.

I truly enjoyed every posting in that book, but there was one that really hit me hard, in a very good way.  A fellow mom wrote, "It is time for you to touch the lives of those you will be living near in Hong Kong.  Who knows the experiences you will have and the people you will meet." (M.L.)

After I read those lines I had to put the book down as realization settled in.  I don't credit myself so very much that I feel like I am going to change people's lives in Hong Kong.  But in all this time, with all this planning going on, all the preparations, the decisions, the arrangements, the discussions, I failed to see that there are people in Hong Kong who are going to change my life! 

When I rolled into town 10 years ago, I never knew that here lived a woman named June who would be my next door neighbor.  She would make me jam at Christmas time and teach me how to knit.  I never knew that there were these wonderfully talented architects, who would establish Mia's Fund, which led way to Mia's Memorial Scholarship.  And I could have never imagined that there was a woman named Jessica who would become my very best friend.  A friend who totally gets me, who I never have to make excuses or apologies to because she just knows.  A friend who rocked the Prince concert with me.

There has been so much talk about the "experience" of Hong Kong, but I failed to realize that the heart of the experience will be with the people I will meet and interact with.  The people who will become my friends over the next three years.  These people whose faces I've never seen, whose names I have never spoken will be the ones who split a bottle of wine with me, encourage me to "just buy the sweater already!" and invite my kids over for a play date.  They will not replace my North Carolina friends.  Just as the heart grows when adding a child to the family, the same applies to friends. 

So to my North Carolina pals, in the words of the great Oprah, I say "until we meet again".  And to those in Hong Kong I have yet to friend, "I'm looking forward to it!".

Welcome to The Lily

I think we are at that point in our move that the relocation package fails to mention.  That part where you just kinda start to get loopy.  It's like you know it's just a matter of weeks before a crew is going to come in, pack up your earthly possessions and either ship it or store it.  But you are still trying to run a functional household with hand towels and salt shakers, stickers and legos, garbage cans and coffee pots, stuff that needs to be packed, but can't yet be parted with. In my futile efforts to start setting stuff aside, I just found myself wandering the upstairs hallway with a martini shaker in one hand and an umbrella in the other.  That's when I decided to put the barware and rain gear down and take a breather at my lap top and tell you about my other home.  The one Asia.  The one we don't live in yet.  The one called The Lily.

The real estate agent in Hong Kong lined up over 20 apartments for our viewing pleasure while we were there.  We went in with this strategy that we would compare the first to the second and X-out to one we liked less, and then the winner of that round would go up against the third place, and so on and so on and so on.  Good in theory, but unfortunately house hunting is not so black and white.  Some apartments were, shall we say, less than impressive.  But the amenities were awesome!  The first place we looked at, the same complex where the Milkshake Murder took place (google it), didn't exactly float my boat, but then it had a shuttle bus, a grocery store, indoor pool, outdoor pool, nice playroom....so it really messes up your mind.  You start to wish these apartments could be like Mr. Potatohead, where you can mix and match the pieces, customize it, make it your own.  And it's easy to get stars in the eyes when you see an apartment building with its very own spa on-site and video rental store.  But luckily, we were always able to step back, wipe the magic from our eyes, and re-focus on what we thought was important in an apartment.  So, after an day or being in and out of the realtor's van, up and down various elevators, in and out of vacant apartments, we set foot in The Lily.

The Lily is modern and funky and cool in a way I am not.  If it were to be my forever home, I could never!  But for 3 years, kind of fun.  The moment we walked over the thresh hold, I looked at Gene and whispered, "this is it!".  And this is why.  Check out the view!

It's not exactly a horrible thing to wake up to every morning, right?  Along with this incredible view, the apartment at the Lily has good sized bedrooms for the kids with decent closets and a lovely master suite for us.  I would like our bedroom to be a tad bit larger, but decided this cool free-standing bathtub was a fair trade.

And then there is my very favorite room in a home, the kitchen.  If you know me well you know I love, love, love to tool around the kitchen.  I love recipes. I love cooking.  I love baking.  Thanks to two grandmas who showed me the way, I just love being in the kitchen. Was I ever going to find a totally lumped out, gourmet kitchen in an apartment in Hong Kong?  No.  But all things considered, this one is pretty close.

The stove is electric, which I'm not a fan of, and the oven tiny, tiny, tiny by U.S. standards.  But trust me, we looked at a lot of apartments, thus a lot of kitchens, and this was by far and wide the BEST that we saw.  You can't see it in the pic, but there's actually a wine fridge in there.  Does that just scream Tomczak Friday Fun or what!

Another nice feature in this apartment is the study, which has a pocket door so it can be left open or closed off when necessary.  This is a real find for us.  Why, do you ask?  It all goes back to the 12 hour time difference.  You see, when Gene has a conference call with the U.S. at 8:00am EST, it will be 8:00pm in Hong Kong.  It's almost a relief that he can do it from home, just pulling that door shut for a little privacy.  I'm not oblivious to the fact that this job will take a lot, and I mean a lot, of Gene's time and attention.  But even if he's a busy bee, if he can buzz from our home, that's so much better.  Sometimes just being in the same space is enough.

I mentioned that some of the amenities at the apartment complexes were unbelievably fantastic. They are good at The Lily, but admittedly not the best of the best. After all, we saw placed with golf simulators, spas, racquetball courts, restaurants!  But during our stay we will be enjoying an exercise room

The kids can goof around in the outdoor play area

Or on rainy days, the indoor play room

And all year long, we can all enjoy this indoor heated pool.

It is very possible that I will be suffering from withdrawal at not having our grill for burgers and steaks and salmon and grilled veggies.  But if the cravings get too intense, we can rent out this BBQ area and grill to our hearts content.

The Lily also offers a daily shuttle bus that will run us into town and school buses for the kids will come right to the lobby door.  A really nice grocery store called Jason's is just down the road, but because sidewalks are not continuous and the cab drivers are craaaazzzyyyy! I probably will not be able to walk back and forth to the market. 

So that's it!  And though it still seems weird, foreign, unnatural not to have a sprawling carpet of green grass, flowers popping up in the spring, a garage to house our vehicles, and a mailbox at the curb, once all four Tomczaks get established under The Lily's roof, it will be home.

The Little Dragon

It is my most distinct honor

And my great pleasure

to introduce you

to Hong Kong International School's newest little "dragon".

  Way to go Reagan!

We are so proud of you!

First Impressions

We're home from Hong Kong.  Well, home in the sense that we are now on U.S. soil.  The next stop is Erie, PA to collect our children and our dog and than into the car for a 10+ hour drive to our house in North Carolina.  When we left for this Hong Kong trip, I had every intention of blogging about what I saw, where we went, my feelings, my observations, my musings.  But once we got there, and once my body finally adjusted, I still couldn't bring myself to write it all down.  There is this vortex of sights, sounds, realizations, emotions and fears just swirling in my head and I just can't sort it all out.  I can't summarize it and plop it down in my blog and make everyone understand.  How can I when I don't even yet understand?  After all, I'm the girl who spent an evening crying into a bowl of penne pasta at the realization that there is no Target in Hong Kong.

But what I can do right now is this.  I can tell you about my first impression of Hong Kong.  After all, that is the number one question that I've been getting, "What is it like?".

I've watched enough Sex and the City and Law & Order, the original one, to have an idea what it's like in a big city.  But seeing it and stepping into it are two totally different things.  The first thing that stands out -- the traffic.  Lots of cars, lots of luxury cars, BMW, Mercedes, Porsche, Lexus, Jags and even Rolls Royce, but lots of taxis too.  Lots and lots of little red taxis.  The steering wheel is, of course, on the wrong side of the car and the cars themselves, on the wrong side of the road.  As a Westerner, this makes crossing the street treacherous as we just had no idea which way to look.  Lighted crosswalks are a good thing.

But it's not just the sheer number of cars on the roads or the confusion about which side of the street they are driving on, it's the manner in which the drive.  It's insane!  If the Holly Springs police think that I am a viable candidate for multiple traffic tickets, I invite them to visit Hong Kong for a broader perspective.  All the drivers slam on the gas, brake at the last possible moment.  They squeeze into the tightest of spaces leaving just inches between their vehicles and large tour buses and garbage trucks.  They weave and merge so much that it leaves you clutching your seat belt strap and praying to God.  I'm quite certain that I'll be spending the next three years in the back of taxis with my eyes squeezed shut.  Sometimes it's better not to even look.

Eugene's office is right in the midst of this busy, downtown area called Wanchai and it really is like something you see in the movies.  Huge, huge buildings.  Lots of elevators and escalators.  They also have footbridges that connect the buildings, running above the busy streets below.  Like a maze of sorts, we were able to use these footbridges to walk from our hotel, to his office, to the bank across the street, to a coffee shop for a morning cup of joe.  Eug mastered them.  I was perpetually lost.  

Notable was the number of businesses in that area.  Actually, the number of businesses everywhere.  In our hometown of Erie and in the Triangle-area of North Carolina that we now call home, it's not unusual to see empty storefronts and buildings, places where someone's dream just never took root and died out leaving a shell of a structure just waiting for new tenants.  I didn't see a lot of that in Hong Kong.  Matter of fact, I'm not sure I saw any.  If there is space something is in it whether it's a bank, 7-11 store, boutiques, newspaper stands, cafes, everything you can possibly think of except for nail salons, I saw not one of those while we were there.  We were able to find many stores and businesses that we have here in the U.S.  I'm sure no one has ever had so much joy at the sight of a Clinique counter, finding a Toys R Us tucked up on the top floor of a mall, and a Stride Rite shoes selling the exact same sandals I bought my daughter just weeks ago.

And then there are the people.  The hundreds, the thousands of people everywhere.  And most of them are Asian, which means for the first time in our lives, we are a minority and it is a very odd experience.  I've never felt so white in my life.  When everyone around you is Asian, you can't just blend in, you stick out, you scream "foreigner", you reek of "I have no idea what I'm doing".  And just because you see another white person, don't assume they are an American.  Out of the mouths of people who looked like me I heard British and Australian accents, Russian, Polish, German and the like.  All kinds of different people, all kinds of races, all kinds of nationalities.

Of course with the Asian people comes Asian language.  Since English and Cantonese are the official languages of Hong Kong, I didn't sweat the language too much so I was truly surprised to see so many Chinese characters and hear Chinese spoken everywhere.  Without trying to offend, I have to say, the Chinese language is harsh to my ear.  Listening to the locals converse, I could never tell if they were happy or totally pissed off.   And it goes without saying that we had no idea what they were saying.  Kind of like being at grandma's house when she starts spoutin' off in Polish the things she wants to say, but really doesn't want you to hear.

So there's your overview.  I so wanted to spell everything out, make it seem like you were right there with us, taking in the city of Hong Kong.  But I realize now that that is what the next three years is all about.  That is the reason I started this blog in the first place.  I never meant to visit for a week and know it all and see it all and write it all.  I meant to go there and learn it, live it ,and write about it so that's what I'll do.

There is one thing that I did learn this past week during our visit.  If you ever think you are confident and sure of everything, come live in Hong Kong.  If you fancy yourself worldly and sophisticated, set up household there.  This past week has shown me I am none of these things.  I'm just a little Polish girl raised on the lower east side of Erie, PA trying to figure it all out.