our sea shipment arrived. sigh.

On Friday, we received our sea shipment. This is always a fairly monumental moment in our life because it means we can resume at least a normal home life even if outside our walls, we live in a very different place. We can fill our space with our things that make somebody else's apartment filled with ugly State Department furniture "our home".

We've been very, very lucky with our shipments. Over the course of 12.5 years, our stuff has been trucked to Washington, DC from SC; to Mexico (I guess by truck?); to Mozambique and back to DC and then to Brazil by ship (and by truck once it got to the port in Brazil); then by truck from Brasilia to Sao Paulo; by ship and truck to SC; and now by ship to Cartagena after which it was trucked to Bogota last week.

In all that movement, I can count on one hand everything that's been broken plus we had a VCR that mysteriously disappeared between DC and Guadalajara. As I said, we've been extraordinarily lucky because there was a lot of room for error.

Our luck changed with this move.

The guys started unloading around 4:15pm on Friday afternoon (after the 11am arrival got pushed back to 2pm which got pushed back to 4:15pm). One of the first boxes they brought in was crushed on the top so we opened it up and found this:

Anyone care for lopsided muffins or a misshapen cheesecake?

Then they started pulling out all these wet boxes. At this point, we have no idea where the water damage happened. It didn't rain in SC when they were loading the boxes into the truck, and the area at the port in Cartagena where the crates cleared customs is covered. Somewhere between A and Z, things got wet.

Fortunately and for whatever reason, the wet hadn't infiltrated too much of the contents even though boxes tore apart in our hands when we tried to pick them up. I use a lot of those big plastic totes, so thankfully, the plastic boxes protected most of the contents. Otherwise, I probably would have lost all my Christmas decorations, Mac's toys and a lot of other stuff.

As it was, we had one box that was completely destroyed and the contents were all moldy. And our older big box tv was moldy. Those items are currently sitting in our storage closet in the garage so I can inventory it for the claims form.
a pocketbook that has seen better days - that's mold all over it.
the wet box that reduced me to tears. Mac got that huge teddy bear as a baby shower present in Mozambique. He was only a little damp so we're going to take him to the cleaners and get him all spiffed up.
the wet tv packaging - thank goodness it wasn't our prized flat screen tv!

the wet box that housed my brand new little table for the sunroom. Fortunately, everything was protected by plastic since it was new.
an example of how much "wet" we're talking about - the photo's dark but the changes in color on the box are where it's wet
my brand-new microwave got a dent in it. I'm sort of scared to use it in case something inside got dented and it explodes!

all's well that ends well

1. Packout 2010 is over. In what was record time, the movers were out of the house at 2:30 this afternoon. I had pared down what we brought to SC because I wanted to live as minimally as possible so there wasn't a lot of "clutter stuff" to pack up, which sped things along enormously.

2. I called Time Warner Cable at 7:45am today, only to be told that the people who handle cancellations (called the Retention Department) don't come in until 8am. So I called back at 8:15am and talked with a woman who was full of attitude and low on expertise.

Her first suggestion was that I just pack up the converter and modem and mail them from wherever I was moving. I told her I was moving to Bogota, Colombia, which happens to be in South America. She said I could mail it back from there. I asked her if she was kidding me to which she quickly said "excuse me?". I asked her if she had any idea what it would cost to mail that heavy box back and no, that wasn't an option.

Her second suggestion was that since I said I would be at the house until 4:30 today, I could drop off the stuff at the local TWC office because they didn't close until 6:30pm. I was operating on principle at this point and absolutely refused to deliver this stuff anywhere since the guy was supposed to pick it up yesterday. So I might have stretched the truth and told her I was leaving for Bogota tomorrow and that I most certainly would not spend my last night here away from my family in order to deliver cable equipment. After all, I'd already lost my "next-to-last" night with family waiting for the guy who never came.

Her third suggestion involved actually checking the schedule to see the earliest that somebody could come out. That would be Monday. So I told her that the guy would find the equipment on the front porch in a plastic bag if it hadn't been stolen.

At this point, she told me she couldn't help me anymore, that Monday was the best she could do.

So I asked to speak to her supervisor.

She told me that the supervisors weren't in yet.

I asked when they'd be in. I told her that I realized she'd done everything in her power, but I obviously needed someone with more power.

She put me on hold.






It was a long hold.












Enter DORETHA.

If Doretha hasn't won the TWC Employee of the Year every year since she started working at TWC, then somebody isn't recognizing talent when they see it.

For starters, Doretha sounded older on the phone, not like the 19 year-olds with whom I had previously spoken. Doretha apologized genuinely for all my trouble (not like the aforementioned teenager apologies that sounded like they were reading off the script they'd been given in their TWC training class (which obviously isn't long enough). Doretha then called the local dispatch and came back on the phone to tell me that someone would be at my house in 15 minutes.

W-H-A-T????

I wasted more than a quarter of a day yesterday dealing with TWC and in 5 minutes, Doretha has taken care of business?

Put that woman up for Employee of the Millenium!

Doretha also stressed - repeatedly- to write down the serial numbers on a piece of paper and get the pick-up person to sign for receipt and to keep that document with me as proof in case the pick-up person ended up stealing the equipment and I guess re-selling?? Well the pick-up person (who arrived in record time) was dressed like the manager of the local office and not some unhappy worker who wanted to steal from TWC. He brought his own documentation so we signed each other's paper and away he went.

Just like that, the tension eased in my shoulders and I got back to enjoying my coffee, fattening blueberry scone, and delightful conversation with BFF on the front porch of the rental house.

Truly, all's well that ends well.

packout update #3 plus my venting

The moving men performed herculean tasks today and got the lion's share of the sea shipment done. They'll finish up tomorrow morning and then do the really bulky but quite minimal storage shipment.

So it was really a very stress-free day as far as packouts go.

And then Time Warner Cable reared its big fat incompetent head. I'll save you from all the gory details. I'll just share an email I just sent to them on their help email function a few minutes ago that sums up my trials and tribulations with the company as well as their very TWC-esque (read here unhelpful) response. When you read this, you should keep in mind that when the tech came, he didn't get my attention nor that of the three movers who were in and out of the house. I guess the big moving truck parked right out front of the house and the door left wide open threw him off.


Original Message Follows:
------------------------
First Name: Susan
Last Name: Story
Email Address: susanstory@yahoo.com
Street Address: 105 Barberry St
ZIP: 29483
Phone Number: 8437712284
Category: Downgrade/Cancellation
Comment: I was supposed to have my equipment picked up today but through a series of TWC bungles, the service was cut, the equipment wasn't picked up but I continued to wait for nearly the 12-hour "window" because when I called at 4:30pm to try and find out where I was in the queue, the incompetent agent didn't tell me the tech had already been to my house. Only when I called back at 8pm did I find out from Mary, the only knowledgeable and helpful agent I've ever spoken with at TWC, that the tech had already come and gone. She was in the process of preparing an equipment pick-up
request, but we got disconnected because of the cell service in my house (remember my service was already cut so I couldn't use my home phone). I tried to do a chat with Julian tonight but he couldn't help me. He told me to call the TWC number, but I explained that I had been on hold and/or waiting for TWC for over 4.5 hours already today and wouldn't wait more and asked that somebody call me directly. So in typical TWC fashion, my service rep Julian had me called but I've now been
waiting on hold for 52 minutes and 46 seconds. I have the modem and the cable box at my house at 105 Barberry St. in Summerville, SC 29483. I will be there tomorrow from 8am to 4:30pm with two professional moving trucks and 4 movers. After tomorrow, I move to Bogota, Colombia, so you can either send your tech there to pick up the equipment or I will leave it on the front porch. Your choice. Please just let me know what option you've chosen. My cell phone battery is dead and won't
be recharged until tomorrow. Tomorrow morning you can reach me on that cell at 843-670-1487. But please note, I will only be at the house from 8am to 4:30pm. I will not be able to wait any longer and waste more hours for TWC.

Why was I surprised when only a couple minutes later, I got this response:

Dear Valued Customer,

Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to assist you. We are unable to process downgrade and
cancellation requests via email. Please contact us at 1-877-566-4892, at your earliest convenience,
and one of our Specialists will be happy to assist you.

We sincerely regret any inconvenience this may cause you, and we look forward to assisting you in
the future.

Thank you for contacting Time Warner Cable Carolinas Region.

For the record, I've remained on hold for a bit longer. I'm up to 1 hour, 6 minutes and 46 seconds right now. But I'm going to bed now because it's another great packout day tomorrow.

But it promises to be a lot more entertaining for me because BFF is coming to help me and she's coming with treats, like Starbucks coffee and that decadent blueberry scone with about 500 fat grams because she said we could have a splurge day for the packout.

packout update #2

Well, these men ate their Wheaties before they left Columbia this morning.

It's 10:40 now, and they've already packed up the 600 pounds (which was way more weight than what I had stuff pulled out for so I had to keep adding, which is a much better problem to have than the other way around) and have loaded it into the tri-wall cartons on the truck. I hear them taping up the boxes now. According to their scales, we're at 590 pounds. I hope their scales match the scales at the airport!

Now we're on to the sea shipment (after they take a "little" break), which is happening not a moment too soon. Look at the living room now.
I'm having heart palpitations...

packout update #1

A guy from the moving crew just called and said they're about 15 minutes away, which puts them getting here about 8:30. Pretty good for the 8-10am window I was given yesterday.

I think the moving company is out of Columbia, a good 1.25 hour drive from here, depending on what part of Columbia they're in. This means the packers have been up for awhile and they'll have to drive back after they pack today and then back again tomorrow. This begs two questions in my mind:

1. Are they sleep-deprived with greater tendencies to break stuff, drive off the road with my shipment in the back of the truck, not be as energetic as necessary to get this done in two days?

2. Why couldn't the State Department's moving logistics people find a mover in the Charleston area who would accept the bid? There's a great moving company 10 minutes away from here that did our layette shipment to Mozambique when Mac was born. Were they not available or not consulted?

More later.

looking ahead...

It appears to be at least semi-official that Jimmy's next assignment after Afghanistan will be Bogota, Colombia. If all goes according to my plan (which is usually not the State Department's plan), Jimmy will return from Afghanistan by August 1 next year, he'll have a couple weeks of home leave, and we'll move by mid-August so that Mac can start school on time.

More details to follow as we know them.

a nice Sunday

With just 48 hours until departure, I am a big emotional mess. Today we enjoyed a really lovely church service - they're all really lovely at this church - where I just tried to soak up the mood and the music and the message, all of which are always so inspirational.

Then Mac and I treated ourselves to brunch at the Hilton. About a week ago, Mac announced that he would like to go for brunch one more time - Jimmy and I have clearly created a monster whose taste exceeds his parental budgetary constraints. But I figured why not? After all, how many "last Sundays" do we get in Sao Paulo?

So we went and had a real-life lesson in how different perceived socio-economic classes are treated differently. Every time we've gone to the Hilton, we've always been in the minivan that has the very distinctive blue consulate plates. And as soon as the car has hit the pavement of the entrance circle, valets have run out to meet us. Today, we pulled up in Jimmy's little beater car and nobody came running to meet us. We sat in the car for a few seconds. Nada. So Mac and I walked over to the valet stand where there were at least 4 valets standing there. And I told them in Portuguese that every other time we'd come in a consulate car, we'd had a huge welcoming committee, but today we're in a local-plated, very low-profile car and nobody comes. And that I thought that was an interesting little sociological study. Well of course, they apologized over and around themselves and told me that that wasn't the case, blah, blah, blah. But why, if that's not the case, did not one of these 4 gentlemen come over to get the keys from me? Were they seeing who drew the short straw and had to park the beater car when they were sure a Mercedes was going to come in right behind me? Rest assured that when we came out to pick up the car, we got service like I was the Queen of England (who is trying to cut back on the budget and drives a cheap car). And again, they apologized, but again, their behavior confirms that people who are perceived to be rich (and we're talking "perceived" wealth because we're certainly no richer driving the minivan than we are in the VW) get much better treatment in this country and probably any country for that matter.

Enough of my rant. We had a delightful and delicious brunch and our favorite Tatiana was our very pleasant server. Today I started with an assortment of salads that were all beautifully prepared and presented and then moved on to all this delicious hot food including this grilled steak that was so divine before finishing up with a trio of desserts - a cream puff, tiramisu, and a strawberry mille feuile. All yummy and all delicious and I'm sure not less than 4000 calories. But did I mention it was our last Sao Paulo Sunday, so who cares if I ate 4000 calories. Just so you know, Mac ate spaghetti which he declares is the best spaghetti in Sao Paulo and lots and lots and lots of ice cream.

I had promised Mac yesterday that we'd drive over the new bridge in Sao Paulo today (because I missed the turnoff for it yesterday). That stupid bridge is humongous and you'd think it would be easier to see how to get on it. But I spent 45 minutes driving up and down the Marginal trying to get on that bridge. About 35 minutes into this terrible effort, Mac told me he wanted to nap. When we finally approached the bridge start, I woke him up and told him to look because we were going over it and wouldn't you know that he was back asleep before we got off the bridge????

(As an aside, at some point during our Sunday afternoon drive, Mac asked me if Daddy's car was bullet-proof (this is not a conversation one ever has with their children in a place like Moncks Corner unless Daddy happens to drive the armored truck that takes money to the ATM machines). I told him no, Daddy's car was not bullet-proof and then he went on to tell me some of his friends who have bullet-proof cars (which is very common here). I asked him if the friend's car was heavy (meaning is the door heavy when you open it because they are awfully heavy and you definitely know you're opening an armored door). He misunderstood and said he wasn't sure because he hadn't tried to pick up the car!!)

Our evening ended at our church's despedida that they have every year to send off anybody who's leaving Sao Paulo. I'm just a big cry baby anyway, so this was just another opportunity for Kleenex to make more money. It was a very intimate and personal event - Mac and I had our own special time and were asked what we'd miss, what we wouldn't miss, where we were going, what we'd be doing, and any special prayer requests and then we were prayed for by someone who knows us. In our case, my dear friend Laura prayed for us and it was just so meaningful. And then everybody sang what I chose as our favorite hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul". I feel so blessed by our church family and our preacher and his family. They're going to be a tough act to follow.

the reality is sinking in

As we've prepared for this move, we didn't want Mac to get super-sad about it so we just focused on the positive happiness of moving: we'd be close to family and local friends again and Mac could play with most of his cousins any time he wanted and really that's about the only positive happiness I've seeing in this move right now.

Well Mac really took that denial thing and ran with it. I, on the one hand, have been crying at the drop of a hat. Somebody mentions airplanes or Afghanistan or summer vacation, and I pull out a wadded-up bunch of kleenexes to stop the inevitable rushing of tears that spill over my eyelids.

Mac, on the other hand, hasn't expressed the first hint of sadness. He's had last playdates with friends and while I'm practically hysterical thanking the mother, he's as cool as a cucumber about the whole thing.

Until today.

I picked him up from school as a surprise so he could play on the grassy field after school with his friends (and because we don't have any toys at home, so this is easy entertainment). He handed me his backpack and told me not to open one of the zippered compartments, which immediately made me ask "what do you have in there that's not supposed to be in there?" Turns out he took something from a center at school so I told him to march right back in there and put it back. His teacher and I started talking and I told her what he was doing. So she went over to talk to him and he told her (or more likely she suggested and he agreed) that he was taking it to have a reminder of her and his classmates. I'm not convinced that's the real reason he took it but that's the story I was told. She gave him this huge stuffed apple as a reminder (so if he was stealing, he got a BIG reward). I was trying to give them some space to work this out but Mac was so sad, crying and telling her he loved her. We walked away and for the first time, I saw and felt his sadness, which made me sad for doing this to him. He's got so many changes ahead of him: new house, new friends, new school, new church, all while Daddy's away. It's a tough sell for me and I had a choice in the matter, but it must seem incomprehensible to a 6 year-old. We will console ourselves by going to eat at a churrascaria tonight with friends. Surely this is nothing that some meat and grilled cheese can't cure....

the packout and the letter project

"They work hard for the money
so hard for it honey
They work hard for the money
so you better treat them right"
(The Fink moving team during their lunch break siesta on the balcony)

I'm sitting here in a near-empty apartment. The walls echo but I am sooooo glad everything is gone and I can scratch "the packout" off my "To Worry About" list.

Mac had a total meltdown when he got home and saw that his playroom was now just a vacant space. We are talking Grade A, lay on the floor and cry sort of meltdown. I felt so bad for the poor little guy and started thinking that maybe I should have devoted one of our 4 suitcases just to toys. I told him I'd call the moving people back and they could unload his toys for him to enjoy these last 2 weeks but he'd never see them again OR we could be apart from the toys for these last 2 weeks (plus some months later unbeknownst to him) and have them to play with again in SC. He snapped out of his hissy fit pretty quickly and decided 2 weeks apart was okay. Crisis averted.

We also completed his Kindergarten Letter Project tonight. His friend Edgar chose the letter "O" for Mac while Mac was out with pneumonia. Mac and I had a serious altercation about the letter project. It could be a poster, book, mobile, etc and Mac chose to do a poster. All he wanted on his poster was a big "O" in the middle and some words around the big "O" that started with that letter. I thought that sounded awfully boring. After all, you have but a second or two to make a great impression and to show your display's pop and sparkle and all that. I suggested he draw pictures of the o words or cut pictures out of magazines. No dice. He wanted boring. So he started yesterday on our one sheet of loaned poster paper (did I mention we were packing out? The Kindergarten Letter Project came at a really bad time in my life!). The initial result didn't go so well. A photo follows. The orange words and scratched-out mistakes were the original attempt. The rest is where the magic marker bled through from the finished product.

After we dried the tears caused by making mistakes on our one piece of paper, I convinced Mac that in order to have familial peace and harmony, he really needed to write his o words on other pieces of paper and we (okay, I, but this is really the only part I did in the whole project) would cut them out and tape them on after he did his big "O" in the middle. You will notice some pretty fancy cutwork there. Since we just had the one piece of poster paper, we just flipped that paper over and used the back side. It's not the pretty side, but the rough, brown finish gives some texture and background color to his spectacular display of "O" words. I told him he needed to put his name on it, so where did he put it? Yes, right in the middle of the big "O". You'll notice he's going by James now and not Mac. He told me the other day he wanted to be called James, but that's a topic for another day. He gets his penmanship skills from his moma - pretty nice handwriting, don't you think?

the noon report

These movers are definitely eating their Wheaties!

This morning they took out all the boxes that are going to State Department storage (weighed, inventoried and cross-checked against my inventory) and they finished packing all the SC stuff except for the playroom. It's a short countdown until everything material in our lives (except what fits in 4 suitcases and 2 carry-ons) is packed up and out of here.

I got a little nostalgic this morning watching it all being carted out, knowing that we won't see it for more than 14 months minimum. Not nostalgic for the "stuff" but for the memories behind the stuff, like who gave it to us or where we bought it on vacation. We don't have the greatest material possessions, but what we've got is packed with memories. It's tough to keep it out of sight when you like to be reminded of those memories.

the sticky note method prevails

I am a convert of the sticky note method. I will never do another move without a large pack of dual-colored sticky notes. This packout has been a breeze. A number of things helped, including the fact that Fink (the moving company) sent a lot more people than other companies have sent before and these movers stayed motivated all day long; I was super-organized and knew what was going where (remember I'd already had to make all those hard decisions to get the right sticky note on everything); and I decided that I couldn't let it bother me when the movers decided early on that I'm a neurotic American. Big whoop.

The packout was scheduled to take 3 full days, but I'm really thinking they can finish the packing in the morning, do their inventory in the afternoon (which by the way, I was so organized today that as they packed boxes, I was able to do my own box inventory in English with my own box numbers with different colors to denote storage and SC!) and get the boxes on the truck by lunchtime Wednesday at the very outside. Smooth sailing ahead, I tell you!

sticky note crisis averted

We inherited another worker after lunch and he obviously wasn't given the memo about only doing the pink stickies first. I just found him doing a box of green, so we had to nip that in the bud. We're all back on track now (although I hear discussion about the colors of stick notes going on right now. I don't think they like my enforcement.)

busy bees in Casa Grande

The packers have now been packing for 1 hour and 21 minutes and it's time to break for their one-hour lunch. But boy, are they making progress. I hope their momentum continues. Did we just get lucky and get good packers or is there something to this sticky note system???

quick update on packout

The movers are here. They came in for a walk-through and appeared to totally get the sticky note method! They are going to pack the air freight first and weigh it so we can maximize our 600 pounds (or is it 700 pounds? I need to check that). Then they're going to do all the pink stickies first followed by the green stickies. I think I got the bright bulbs in the box!!

a new approach to packouts

Today is the start of our packout of everything in the apartment. As I type, it's 9:13, and the moving company was supposed to be here at 9am, but said maybe 9:30 "with traffic", so I wait and I type.

It turns out I have been doing these moves all wrong over these last 11 years. I have not been properly organized, so this time, I've employed a tried-and-true (by others) method of using sticky notes to tell the movers where various things are going.

I thought using a system of green and red stickies would be smart. Green for "Go to South Carolina" and Red for "Stop and put it in storage in Maryland". But the store only had neon green and pink which are close enough to green and red, so I figured it would work. Our preacher here in Sao Paulo pointed out last night that I better hope and pray the movers aren't color-blind!

So there are approximately 800 sticky notes stuck on everything in this apartment. (And just to be safe, I wrote out South Carolina and Maryland on each note in case the movers forgot what green and pink mean). Time shall soon tell whether they get it or not.

In other exciting news, guess what I saw for the very first time yesterday on the grocery store shelves here in Sao Paulo? Tortilla chips! It figures since we only have 2 weeks left in the country, but boy, was I excited. To celebrate, Mac and I are having nachos for supper tonight. It really is all about the small things in life, right?

still organizing...

...but I've decided slow and steady will win this race....

a musing from someone who's organizing for a move

There are days like today when I think I'd never like to move again.

People who never move don't have to do things like get a knife and dig out the little stopper on the bottom of a bunch of salt and pepper shakers to empty out the contents so when they unpack boxes on the other end, salt and pepper don't go flying everywhere. This sounds very nice to me right now.