Hiking the Spanish Mountains

After Vigo, we flew back to Barcelona then drove 4 hours to a ski resort town in the Pyrenees mountains of Spain, in hopes of finding "the" Spanish day camp.  One that the the kids would like and is in a place where Jared and I would also have things to do.  And, by golly, I think we've struck gold.  But more on that later.  

On the last day of camp, which was Friday, parents were invited to join the counselors and kids on a hike.  Even thought I hadn't packed any athletic clothes for our 4, or is it 5, or is it 8 weeks vacation, I thought it would be fun and figured I'd be fine given the hike was planned for kids ages 4-12.  So, I put on my sportiest outfit and followed these Spaniards up the mountain.

For a city girl, Rocky is quite the little hiker.

Peanut is a little billy goat.  He's at the top waving his hat at us.

John (in red) and Peanut became instant friends over their Pokemon Go addiction.

Our reward at the top of the mountain, a dammed lake.  Cold and refreshing after a long climb up.
Bathing suits were optional for a few of these kids.  While I'm used to my relatives swimming in their skivvies and little cousins going totally commando, seeing Westerners do this still (pleasantly) surprises me.  

Our group heads down the mountain.

Thanks to my bike ride in Switzerland, I recognized the sounds of those bells in the distance.

Rocky picks wild raspberries.  My very picky daughter tasted this fruit for the first time in her life (she's 5!) and is now asking to have raspberries for dessert.  It only took a long hike to make her thirsty and hungry enough to try them.

I've never been to the mountains in the summer and realize what I've been missing my whole life.

Family photo op.  We're just missing Peanut who was way ahead of us. 

The hike took us about 4 hours and was really fun.  I trekked along with a couple of 4 year olds, and I could easily tell that it wasn't their first time doing this hike.  Peanut and Rocky were also quite agile and made the excursion look easy, even though they're totally new to hiking.  Jared and I didn't do too badly either.  Although, by dinner time, I was ready to turn in.  Peanut and Rocky were bouncing around like usual.  The way they were acting, you'd have no idea the day they had.

It was a great day and made me appreciate the beauty of nature even more.

How Anglo Mothers Stack Up Against French Mothers

Obviously, American children.

In the last 11 months, I've had a chance to observe my fellow French mommies and notice they love their children, but have a very different relationship with them.  Here's an article that compares some of the differences between French and Anglo (British and American) parenting.

Highlights from the article:

"Discipline versus encouragement, chastisement versus laissez-faire, a sharp shrill "ça suffit!" (that's enough!), versus the mollycoddling "now let's not do that, shall we?" reasoning of the so-called Anglo-Saxon – meaning British or American – mum. And above all, that essential Gallic parenting tool, la fessée, or smacked bottom, versus the British naughty step."

"In France, British expat parents are often dismayed at the stifling rigidity of French schools, in which learning by rote is more important than learning to reason, where creativity is strangled by conformity and where what a child has to say is less important than doing so with impeccable grammar and writing."

" ... French children are taught to be better behaved in public and social situations. Passengers on the Eurostar can often identify a child's nationality without hearing them speak. You can more or less bet the one running up and down the carriage screaming his head off will not be French."

"In France we see authority as a form of affection and believe that a child blossoms because of, not in spite of, that authority. The bottom line is my child can have his own opinion, but it's me who decides."

First Year of School Comes to an End

We will say goodbye to CE1 (2nd grade) for Peanut and Grande Section (Kindergarten) for Rocky on Friday, July 1st.  Their first school year in Paris has flown by thanks to all the two-week vacations in October, December, February, April, and now they have two months off for summer.  

But before we put the books away, I'd like to share a bit about Rocky and Peanut's end of year performances.  

Rocky had her mime performance a week ago on Tuesday.  This one was much more elaborate than the one in December with costumes, props, and small group performances.  In 6 months, these five and six year olds have physically and mentally changed so much.  Almost all of them have lost their baby fat and are more coordinated.  

Rocky was not shy about performing in front of the parents and staff.  (Actually, I think she really loves the attention.)  I like how her school gives the children opportunities perform and be comfortable in front of an audience at such a young age.     

Jared and I were very proud of Peanut in his first performing role as Monsieur Seguin in the play, Le Jugement du Loup.  Not only was it his first time on stage, it was all in French!  Peanut is very outgoing with friends, but on the flip side is shy speaking in front of the class, so I wasn't sure how he'd do.  But I was very impressed with Peanut and his entire class for projecting their voices and delivering a very good performance.  If any of them were nervous, I could not tell.

I have to share my own little "performance".  At 9:45 PM one night earlier this semester, Peanut comes out of bed and says, "mommy, I need a dragon costume for tomorrow."  I think every parent has been faced with this scenario, but you don't understand the pain until it happens to you.  In Paris, there is no such thing as Target or 24-Hour Wal-Mart.  The closest thing I have is a nearby grocery store that closed over an hour ago.  But, with the help of Google, some yellow painters tape my landlord left behind, and an empty Amazon box I had been meaning to throw away, I momGYVERed this baby up.

Things I've Learned in 5 Months as a Parisian

Here are some things I've learned, am learning, or getting used to in my 5 months as a Parisian:

Potato chips in France in baked ham, baked chicken, and some kind of grilled sausage flavor.

1.  Unusual potato chip flavors.

2.  The metric system.

3.  Celsius.

4.  France is formal and politeness is valued.  For example, it's important to acknowledge the shopkeeper with a "Bonjour Madame or Bonjour Monsieur".  Also, if you have a question or need help, it's not OK to just launch in when it's your turn.  Slow down, say hello and pardon me, then begin asking.  At school, not only do Peanut and Rocky address their teachers by their last name, so do we. Their teachers also call us by our last name.

5.  Small family owned businesses still exist.  We have a local bookstore run by dad, mom, and their daughter where we've purchased almost all of the kids' school supplies.  The owner knows me by name, that is, "Madame Slosberg" and in addition to email/phone/fax, slipping the supplies list or requests under their shop door is also welcomed.

6.  Everyone kisses hello and goodbye.  Women and women, women and men, men and men.  Jared is still trying to get used to the last one.  Here's how you do it:  Two kisses.  One on each cheek.  Right cheek, then left.  It always throws me off when someone starts kissing me on the "wrong" side.  I've had a couple of awkward close calls with this one French dad of Peanut's friend.

7.  Hangers are ridiculously expensive.  I'm talking over $3 a piece!  Gift tissue paper is too (about $1.10 per sheet).  A good baguette costs about $1.50.

8.  There are two sizes of egg cartons.  The first is made to carry 6 eggs and the second to carry 10 eggs.

Do You Have A Love Note Fairy?

A little love note writing fairy leaves me these messages all over place.  I find them on my grocery list, in my travel journal, on important documents, etc. and always make me smile.

Marcel Marceau: The Next Generation

French schools really teach mime to their students.  Sorry to disappoint, but there are no striped shirts or white face paint here.  Just black clothes, except for the Santa hats of course.  This dramatic art conveys emotion without speech through facial expressions and body language.  It teaches the children body awareness (of self and others).  Seeing 24 children, move, act, and play in an orderly fashion with very little noise was a sight in itself.  

May I present photos from Rocky's kindergarten class' spectacle de mime from Wednesday.

How French Kids Talk To Adults

My children can benefit from a lesson or two in manners from our neighbors' kids.  While I think Peanut and Rocky are pas mal (not bad), a solid B, our upstairs neighbors' and downstairs neighbors' children are on the honor roll.

Upstairs lives three beautiful French girls around the ages of 9, 11, and 13 years.  Their parents had a small holiday party for all the neighbors a week ago and they were the servers.  They enjoyed walking around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and asking guests if they wanted something to drink.  I talked to their mom, Sophie, about it and she says they like to help.  While Sophie was finishing up the salads, they waited in the kitchen (without mom needing to ask) so they could carry the bowls out to the buffet table.

At this same party, we met the neighbors who live under us who have an 8 year old boy and 4 year old girl.  After an awkward 15 minutes, Peanut and their son became instant friends over a mutual love of Pokemon and their daughter and Rocky, both with strong personalities, bonded over mutual admiration of each other's party dresses.  These two French siblings were very comfortable talking to adults.  The 8 year old boy made eye contact and greeted me and so did his sister.  When I asked for his name and how old he was (in French, by the way), he politely answered in a complete sentence and didn't automatically run off after answering.  Our interaction was short, but made a big impression on me.

I'm not sure if my parents actually taught me how to interact with adults or my dad just put the fear of God into me with a sideways glance, but I knew how to respectfully answer adults when spoken to.  Seeing our neighbors' children reminded me that I need to set the manners bar higher for Peanut and Rocky.

Conversation I Hoped to Never Have With My Kids

"Last night, some bad guys came here to Paris and shot some people.  Some people died."

Words I hoped to never say to my kids, but Jared and I thought we'd better tell Peanut and Rocky before they heard it from anyone else and give them an opportunity to ask questions.  The whole conversation lasted about 10 minutes during breakfast, but a few more questions popped up at lunch.  I can tell by looking at Peanut's face that he's still thinking hard about it.  He asks most of the questions.  Rocky listens and asks follow-up questions.

Some of their questions:

Where are the bad guys now?
Did a lot of people die?  How many?
Why?
What arrondissement?  But my friend lives in the 10th arrondissement.  Augustin.  Is he OK?
Is Olo (Peanut's best friend) alright?
How do we know our friends are OK?
Did anyone at school get hurt?
Do we know anyone that got hurt?
Is that how your dad (Jared's dad) died?
Why did the police shoot the bad guys?

Everything was happening while we were getting our kids ready for bed last night.  I wonder how this  morning's conversation will change the two innocent and naive kids we tucked into bed last night.

Excuse My French

During dinner tonight, I heard the kids have a full conversation in French for the first time.  They were quizzing each other on math problems and of course, trying to stump the other.  An argument was thrown in.  Some bedtime delay tactics too.  Basically, a normal evening for the Slosberg kids, just in French.

They laughed hysterically as I tried piecing together a sentence en français demanding them to go and put on their pajamas.

I know they're going to use their language skills against me one day very soon.

Cupcake Wars

"French mothers do not make cupcakes".  

This is how I was educated by the mom of Rocky's classmate when I suggested we make cupcakes for our children's joint classroom birthday celebration, instead of bringing in 3 individual cakes for each of the birthday kids.  There are 23 students in Rocky's class and just one teacher.  Wouldn't it be considerate to help her avoid having to cut and serve 3 cakes?!?  This mom also didn't want to have anything to do with my idea of bringing in juice boxes instead of 3 large bottles of juice to be poured into 23 cups and given to unsteady 5 year olds.  She made it very clear that she works all day, so she does not have time to bake cupcakes and besides, her daughter doesn't even appreciate cupcakes.  Um, I witnessed said daughter pigging out on her fourth cupcake at another friend's birthday party the week before.  Cupcake Wars ensues.

Peanut's First Day of 2nd Grade in Paris

Peanut, 7 years old, first day of second grade

Picking a seat next to his new friend

Ready to start class

Peanut is in CE1 (which is 2nd grade).  Time flies.  He's a little skinnier and taller, but Peanut still has the same sweet look on his face as when we took him to school for the first time at 18 months old.  Unlike Rocky's first day of kindergarten, they allowed parents to help the second graders bring their school supplies into the classroom.  This will be the only day we're allowed to go in, by the way.

Peanut is in an adaptation class for the first year.  It's a special class for kids who do not speak French.  While Peanut has had one year of French in Texas, it was strongly suggested we put him in this adaptation class.  Beside language acquisition, this class also gets the added benefit of learning French culture.  They've got them crammed in there like sardines though.

On the way home on the first day, Peanut said, "Daddy, it was so boring.  I'd rather do a thousand pages of homework than go to school."  (Uh-oh, this is concerning.)  After Jared probed a little, he learned it was because they didn't have a playscape.  In Peanut's mind, how can you call it a playground and have no playscape?  Around the second or third day, Peanut started looking forward to going to school.

Peanut has made a couple of friends and says he likes it about as much as his previous school.

Let's Help Them Buy a Cow

Discussing the loans

Reviewing the loans we've made

How do you teach young kids the meaning of giving back and helping others?  Jared and I have wondered about this since we had kids and found something that's worked pretty well.  Since September, as a family, we've been donating to an organization named Kiva that makes small loans to people around the world, even in some of the most remote places.

Once a month, Jared pulls 5 loan requests from Kiva's website.  Then, he and the kids grab my old globe that I've had since middle school and the three of them discuss who's asking for the loans, what the they're for, where these people live, what kind of jobs they have, and why they need the money.  The kids know it's their responsibility to come to an agreement on three loans to fund.

In 6 months, they've made 18 loans to people in Armenia, Honduras, Georgia, Cambodia, Lebanon, El Salvador, Bolivia, the Philippines, Kyrgyzstan, Nicaragua, Ecuador, Indonesia, Azerbaijan, the United States, Togo, and Vietnam.  Their loans have helped a small business owner buy supplies for a grocery store and another to replenish his fruits and vegetables stand.  Another helped a taxi driver, a person who manufactures doors and windows, and a family build an indoor bathroom for their home.  Farmers who raise cows, goats, and grow food are some of the kids' favorites to help.  They also got really excited and asked lots of questions about a tailor who needed the money to buy fabric and could really relate to the woman taking out a loan to pay for her child's primary school tuition in Vietnam.

Thanks to this monthly exercise, all four of us have learned a lot more geography.  What's also been great is the kids get to learn about professions in developing countries and by discussing which loans to make and why, practice decision making.  We're hoping as they get older that they'll also learn about money, lending, repayments, and defaults.

Mini Mardi Gras Parade

Bonne fête!

Peanut, Rocky, and their classmates celebrated Mardi Gras yesterday at their school with a parade of homemade floats.  Each child was given a box and told to "be creative" ... and wow, what a show!  This beautiful afternoon was filled with so much color, artistry, and pride.  The kids admired each other's floats as they cheered one another on while their float was being examined by a gushing group of volunteer parent judges.

First Day of School - First Grade and Pre-Kinder

First Day of School, August 26, 2014
Peanut starts 1st Grade (6.5 years old)
Rocky starts pre-kinder (a bit over 3.5 years old)

Today is the first day of school for Peanut and Rocky.

We decided to move them from Spanish immersion school to a French immersion school.  It's a tiny school, made up of about 40 students total starting at pre-K to middle school.  Their program is focused on academics and we felt that the kids would learn a lot and get very individualized attention because of the size, however, there was a lot of concern around Peanut starting such a rigorous program without knowing any French.  He passed the observation, so the kids were admitted.

Don't let their smiling faces fool you.  The kids were very anxious about their first day.  Rocky resisted going into her classroom and Peanut stood frozen as Jared and I said goodbye.  When they were out of sight, my game face vanished and true feelings were finally allowed to show.  I was more than a little anxious too.

In the car, I questioned whether or not we made the right decision.  Thinking back, I realized the kids have been in 3 different schools in the last 3 months in 3 different languages.  That's a lot!  By the afternoon, the Vietnamese side of me was glad we are stretching our kids' way beyond their comfort level, but the Americanized side of me was freaking out about throwing our kids into an environment where they don't understand a word while being asked to thrive.

I eagerly awaited for 3:00 PM when we could pick them up and see how their day went; simply so I would know what laid ahead.  I would be there to support my kids no matter what today's outcome.  Smiling faces at pick-up would mean a faster, less bumpy start, while distraught pleas would require more encouragement and support.

Jared calls me at 3:12 PM with some of the best news I've heard in a very long time.  The kids had a really good day.  I couldn't wait for them to get home so I could see them in person.  The kids I saw this afternoon were completely different kids than the ones I dropped off this morning.  I think this might work.

My kids (and children overall) are so adaptable and resilient.  It continues to amaze me and makes me so proud to have such flexible and great kids.  I know there will be many tougher moments in life, but we got through this one and it makes us, well, me, just a little bit stronger.

Last Day of Vietnamese School

The kids with their teacher, Co Van (Ms. Van)

Today is the children's last day in Vietnamese school.  Thanks to Co Van (Ms. Van), the other teachers, and administrators at the Little Rainbow School we completed one month of Vietnamese school.  They were incredibly patient and welcoming to us and our kids.  We'd show up late to school every day (around 9:00 AM), disrupted the class because the students would rush Jared, Peanut, and Rocky with very loud and repetitive "hello, hello, hello, hello", and then leave while Peanut was crying and of course, it meant Miss Copy Cat Rocky had to do the same.  (Co Van knew we were on vacation and didn't fault us for wanting to sleep in a bit.)  

It is true that Peanut adjusted to school but going from full-on tears to making distressed faces daily still isn't easy for a teacher (or parent).  Every day, Co Van and her teacher's assistants did their best to get our kids excited about the day.  They were incredible and worked really hard to make this Jewnamese family comfortable.

What have they learned?  Peanut and Rocky understand me a lot better when I speak Vietnamese or perhaps they're not tuning me out as much because they understand.  They've used a few phrases which they learned at school such as time for sleep, change your clothes, may I eat, may I have a kiss, you're so lovable, and I am sure they know some others which I haven't discovered yet.  Last night, I even heard Rocky singing to herself in Vietnamese while in bed.  

Another thing my kids learned over the month is the Vietnamese tradition of bowing and greeting your elders.  I hated doing it when I was a kid because I had to go up to every single adult with a greeting and bow upon my or their arrival and my departure.  If my parents took me to a party, it could mean going up to 60 people!  I'd spend half the party bowing hello and the other half bowing goodbye.  Sheesh.  However, adults ate-it-up and I was always known as such a polite young lady who knew the traditional ways.  Little did they know (cue evil laughter).  Even though the bowing got old, I learned the names of all the adults and they knew me, which meant at Lunar New Year time, I was the one that got the red envelopes full of money.  Also, it taught me patience, good manners, and how to act respectfully. 

I'd like to keep this tradition alive.  So, to all my friends and relatives, remind me to get my kids to bow to you if I forget.  It takes a village.

Goodbye party

These incredibly sweet and loving teachers threw our kids a goodbye party with a spread of white and red dragon fruit, lychees and rambutan, and cookies and lollipops.  

This fellow classmate's going to be trouble!  Check out how he holds his cookie.

August 2014
Little Rainbow School
Vung Tau, Vietnam
Peanut and Rocky ages 3.5 and 6.5 years old

We gave each of the kids boxes of crayons and donated additional boxes to the school as a way to say thank you.  From the "I'm so over it" expression coming from the girls in the front row, you can't tell that they were actually very excited to receive their gifts.  Peanut's friends are the rowdy boys in the back row.  In addition to a wonderful party, the teachers also gave our kids each their very own activity book - written entirely in Vietnamese.  Little did the teachers know that I too will be learning from my 3 year old's activity book to build upon the Vietnamese reading lessons I've had here.

P. S. - did you see the image above Peanut's head in the classroom photo?  It's a drawing of Uncle Ho as he's known here (Ho Chi Minh) embracing a young child.  His image is in every classroom and at other schools, there are posters over 10 feet tall hanging by the entrance. 

The Difference Between Preschool in Vietnam and the U.S.

-- VN: Students must eat everything in their bowl.  The clean plate club is strongly encouraged.  The teachers will force feed you, if necessary.
-- US:  Eat what you want, if you want.  Teachers keep a watchful eye, but never force feed, especially if you're not hungry.

-- VN:  You can have breakfast, lunch, snack, and an early dinner at school.  Meals are true local Vietnamese food such as crab noodle soup (Bún riêu cua) and purple yam soup (Canh khoai mỡ).  There's no fusion cuisine or chicken nuggets served here.  There's a cook that prepares all meals with fresh vegetables, fruit, and whole ingredients.
-- US:  Unless you're at a private school with a decent lunch program, your parents are packing your lunch or you're eating unhealthy, processed food.

-- VN:  Kids change clothes constantly.  Each kid goes through 3 outfits a day.  There are a couple of reasons for 1) kids sweat all day because it is so hot and humid and of course the schools are not air conditioned, so wardrobe changes keep the kids comfortable and 2) the Vietnamese believe in making sure the kids look clean and presentable at all times.  In Vietnam, my kids come home looking better than when I dropped them off.
-- US:  My kids come home looking like they've rolled around in dirt, rubbed paint all over their face and shirt, and used their shirts as napkins (which I'm sure they did).

-- VN:  You brush your teeth after meals at school.
-- US:  Nope.

-- VN: School is Monday to Saturday.
-- US:  School is Monday to Friday.

-- VN:  You bow to your teachers and your parents.
-- US:  You wave, hug, or just run in.

-- VN:  Pre-primary and even Primary school students take naps.
-- US:  Peanut's school did not offer naps starting in kindergarten while his Vietnamese brethren nap all the way through 5th grade.

-- VN:  There is no toilet paper in the bathroom.  You wash.
-- US:  Toilet paper and flushable wipes are a must.

The important similarity that both preschools in Vietnam and the U.S. have is the teachers love their students.  Although we had researched some other schools online, we were so lucky to stumble upon this one because of their loving and welcoming environment and as an added bonus, it's just across the street from our apartment.

In 6 Days, The Kids Speak Vietnamese

I am so happy Jared convinced me to go to Vietnam this summer in order to put the kids in a local school because in just 6 days, the kids are saying Vietnamese phrases without any prompting.  I've heard a word here and there since we've been here, but tonight, we were getting the kids ready for bed and Peanut says, "giờ đi ngủ", which means, "time to go to sleep".  Then Rocky says it.  It is incredibly special to hear Vietnamese come out of my kids' mouths.  I had kind of given up on the kids actually speaking it and convinced myself I would be happy if they could understand, but this has given me the inspiration I need to keep speaking to them in Vietnamese and encourage, who am I kidding, force them speak it too.

I'm proud to say that the children's teachers told me the kids understand a lot of Vietnamese.  (I think they were pretty surprised.)  It looks like Peanut and Rocky are starting to bridge that gap between understanding Vietnamese and speaking it.  Now it's my job to stay on top of it when we return to Texas in two weeks.

Be Careful What Massage You Ask For in Vietnam

OK, so it's not exactly what you think.  This blog is rated PG, maybe PG-13 at best, but this playful warning still stands.

And so the story goes ... 

To celebrate the kids' successful adaptation to Vietnamese school, I scheduled a massage at a resort at the hard to beat price of $22 for 75 minutes.  Their spa services menu included relaxation and Swedish massages, but I like deep tissue, so I went down the list and saw Thai massage.  I thought it was another level of strength offered, so I booked one for myself.  I even confirmed with the receptionist over the phone yesterday that it was a "stronger" massage.

I eagerly arrive this afternoon for my much-needed massage.  Never having a Thai massage before and honestly just thinking it was a Swedish massage with a little more muscle, I asked the massage therapist what a Thai massage was.  She responded that she doesn't use any oil and stretches out my arms.  OK, I thought ... I don't need oil and a good stretch sounds good.  Oh boy, I had no idea what the next 75 minutes would entail!

At first, my massage therapist started out by standing by my feet as I lay on my stomach and applying heavy pressure on my legs.  Then, the 95 pound woman whom I would get know intimately over the next 75 minutes, climbed onto the massage table.  I knew I was in trouble when I felt her stepping on my butt cheek as she lifted my leg off the table (top right photo).  Then she knelt on the back of my thighs and pulled my arms back (bottom right photo).  After that, she pushed on my back and I heard a huge crack!  Have you heard the sound of someone cracking crab legs?  Well, those sounds came from my back, then my knees, elbows, fingers, toes, hands, etc.

I literally laughed out loud several times at the crazy Cirque de Soleil positions my new best friend contorted my body into.  At one point, I was lying on my back as my massage therapist pushed my legs, which were folded in Indian style, so my knees touched my forehead.  Yes, I was in all of the positions in the above photos.

After about 50 minutes of cracking, twisting, grunts of surprise, and stretching, she lulled me into a relaxed state by massaging my head.  Once relaxed, I felt her put her right hand on my forehead and her left hand on the left side of my chin, then she quickly pushed her hands and all I heard was a huge crack.  Before I knew what happened, I heard a second crack as she turned my head the other way.  Neck was thoroughly cracked!  The sound was incredibly scary, but my neck felt great afterwards.

I have to say the strangest thing my massage therapist did was pull my hair.  She went back for a second round of head massaging, then stopped.  I wasn't sure if the massage was over or if she found a grey hair, then I felt this weird tugging and heard snapping sounds in my head.  I asked what she was doing and she matter-of-factly replied, hair tugging.  I guess there's a first time for everything.

I survived my first Thai massage and learned my lesson that you should Google what things are before signing up for them.  My body actually feels incredibly limber thanks to this afternoon's spa adventure, in fact, I'm writing this blog post while doing the splits.

Vietnamese School Update

Peanut was weeping when we left him and his sister at the Little Rainbow school this morning.

This afternoon, my stomach was in knots as Jared and I walked up the three flights of stairs to Peanut and Rocky's classroom, unsure of what I'd see.

To my relief, I saw a smiling Peanut playing with classmates!  He didn't even notice we had arrived.  Usually he's pulling us out the door, today, I had to call him several times before he'd come because he was engrossed playing hide-and-seek with some of the local boys.

Finally, I can breathe a big sigh of relief.  Vietnamese lessons ... here I come!

Last Days in Madrid

Kim and Jared at the Temple of Debod

Salmorejo (Spanish Chilled Tomato Soup)

Jared taking a peek at the Prado Museum guard telling us "No Photos!"
in front of an El Greco painting

We found Austin's famous Stubb's BBQ sauce and some throwback real sugar Pepsi
in a small store in Madrid

The kids loved their teacher, Paloma, who made us and the children
feel so welcomed and loved.

Taking a selfie at the Puerta de Alcala