TV - reality!

D'you remember back in November I went to a meeting and ended up volunteering to take part in a TV programme?  And that in December I set forth with a borrowed camcorder and took wobbly footage of fair trade businesses around town?  And that was followed up by my own less than stellar performance on camera?

I then forgot about it all and got stuck into Christmas.  But, lo and behold, time has passed and tonight I went along to see the preview showing of WMHT's latest edition of Our Town.  (And I still feel unable to mention the name of the town, which is daft, I know but it's hard to break a more than three-year-old habit.)

Well you know, it wasn't too bad.  The editors had done a superb job of clipping and trimming hours of amateur footage into something really quite watchable, and, speaking for myself at least, they did a decent job of editing the interviews too.  Each segment lasted about three minutes, and some of us also reappeared for a few seconds at the end, summing up our thoughts about the town. 

There were sections about local history, parks and amenities, businesses, green initiatives, choirs and orchestras, parades and theatrical performances.. and much else besides (including, of course, fair trade).  Participants ranged in age from about 8 to 80.  The audience was left feeling lucky to live in a such a lovely community - exactly as the programme-makers intended.

I found it all fascinating and very enjoyable.  The whole show ran to 90 minutes, so to be honest maybe if I didn't live in Our Town I wouldn't have found it quite so gripping.  But that's the mysterious magic of TV isn't it - for some reason it's ridiculously exciting to see places and people you know appearing on a screen.

Gone today and hair tomorrow

Up early to bid farewell to the Man, who is off on some travels.  The Exile called for him at 6:30am and they headed down to JFK airport, thence onwards to a faraway land and an inconveniently different time zone.  As I write - and possibly even as you read this - they are still up in the air.   More on that anon.  He has taken the camera with him, and maybe he'll post some photos from his destination later in the week.

Though I feel a little gloomy without him, at least I have plenty of projects to keep me busy for the next few days.  First up was hosting a late birthday party for the Boy this afternoon.  Not a big deal.  Just a small bunch of boys hanging out together, with added crisps and cake. 

Just now I've been plaiting (braiding) the Girl's hair.  I am naturally curly-but-not-in-a good-way, and go to quite a lot of trouble to straighten my hair (though even after my best efforts, the least drizzle or humidity makes it frizz up like a crazy sheep).   My daughter, however, has dead straight (except when tangled in rats' nests of neglect) hair, and yet she yearns for waves.  So we've plaited it wet tonight so that it will be twirly tomorrow morning.  What contrary creatures we are.

Zoom through the seasons

With winter nowhere near finished, it'll be a while 'til Zoom Flume re-opens.  So tonight, at the Girl's suggestion, we made our own...

You've just got to love Lego.

Be careful what you wish for

A few weeks ago we had days and days of media build-up to an epic snowstorm that didn't quite happen.  Today's forecast talked about 3 inches of "wintry mix", probably turning to rain...

...but oh no.  We had snow.  And snow and snow and snow.  And more snow.  Well over a foot according to my yardstick by the time the day was out.  The Man cleared the driveway late morning, and three hours / three inches later I cleared it again.  And then once again a few hours after that, though even as I did so another half inch fell.  (It's not as mad as it sounds, by the way, clearing a drive while it's still snowing - you try shovelling more than a foots-worth in one go.)

It's all my fault, of course.  I was the one wishing for "a proper winter" and "snow worth writing home about".  Certainly had that - and I daresay you're sick of reading about it by now.  And just in case any of you in Springy Britain are suffering from snow-envy all I can say is, Come on over!  Bring a shovel and a container lorry and take as much as you want. 

Seriously, be our guest.  We are so done with snow.

But oh, go on then - since we've got it, we'll still manage to go out and have some fun in it.

Taking to the cleaners

So, having spent much of yesterday reading and thinking about Burma, today I set out and met someone from there.

In the last couple of weeks I've started noticing posters advertising an outfit called "Refugee Cleaners".  Studying one of the posters more closely, I learnt that the refugees in question are from Bhutan, Iraq - and Burma.   Apparently Albany is a designated resettlement city for people from these three countries.  But many have trouble finding employment because of their lack of English, so some of them have banded together to start their own cooperative cleaning company.

From time to time I write elsewhere for a (less personal) community blog.  "Refugee Cleaners" looked like an interesting subject, and maybe I could help publicize their efforts.  I got in touch and arranged to meet one of their number, alongside an American associate who is helping the group out.

Steah Htoo came to Albany with her husband and children two years ago, from a refugee camp in Thailand.  Her ethnic group, the Karenni, has long been persecuted by the Burmese army.  With no hope of safely returning to Burma, when a chance came to move to America this family seized it.  It has been hard, Steah Htoo said, trying to fit into an entirely new culture, but at least her English is fairly good, and she has got herself a housekeeping job at a local hotel.  She is a leading light for the Refugee Cleaners - teaching them how to clean well and helping out on the communications side of things. 

What I learnt today about Steah Htoo and the cleaning team impressed me very much: they face many challenges, but they are keen to support each other within their refugee community, and they are also determined to be active, self-sufficient and contributing members of society.  By putting themselves out there I think they are really proving that they deserve to be accepted in this "can do" country of America.  I wish them well.

Abroad thoughts from abroad

In 1997 I stepped sideways out of my life for six months and went to Burma to teach English in a Catholic convent.  Why?  Because two nuns I knew asked me, and I said yes. 

Today I dug out the diaries I wrote back then and I've been revisiting my experiences.  Strange times.  I lived in Lashio, in the northeast of Burma - a remote town in a remote country.  Most weeks I was the only Westerner around - which seemed kind of cool for a day or two, but ultimately left me feeling quite isolated.  And while it's surprisingly easy to get used to living by candlelight, with no running water, it turned out to be much harder to cope with being suddenly immersed in a religious life when, as I noted at the time, "I'm not a Catholic (not even a Christian, though I daren't tell anyone here - they'd all go into prayer overdrive for my lost soul)."

Of course, I had some wonderful experiences along the way, and met with great kindness and generosity at all times (which, given the poverty most people lived in, could sometimes be profoundly humbling).  I shared many laughs with my students, made many friends.  But I always felt different, always an outsider, always a long way from home. 

This retrospection has been brought on because I want to remind myself what it's like to try and adapt to living in an entirely different culture (a much bigger leap than, say, being a Briton in America).  More on this tomorrow...

Confessions of a socks maniac

It has been a pleasant enough day, though uneventful.  Both kids managed to arrange to see friends, and I went on a sock-shopping trip.  I seem to have to shop for socks an awful lot.  Whichever sort I buy, and whoever wears them, they don't last longer than about two washes before they're full of holes.  Is that true of British socks, too?  I can't remember. 

Maybe it's time I learnt how to knit my own.