A melding pot

meld 1 (mld) v. meld·ed, meld·ing, melds v.tr. To declare or display (a card or combination of cards in a hand) for inclusion in one's score in various card games, such as pinochle. v.intr. To present a meld. n. A combination of cards to be declared for a score. [Probably German melden, to announce, from Middle High German, from Old High German meldn.]

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meld 2 (mld) v. meld·ed, meld·ing, melds v.tr. To cause to merge: "a professional position that seemed to meld all his training" (Art Jahnke). v.intr. To become merged. n. A blend or merger: "a meld of diverse ethnic stocks" (Kenneth L. Woodward).

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/meld

In the space of two weeks, our family has grown from a concoction of the Longs (which was confusing enough as a single entity) and then add in the Money's.... to now the Smith's... and as of yesterday the 2nd August 2012... the Balu's...


If we are to observe the great theorists opinions on the success of species, we have to acknowledge diversity. And honestly baby, if diversity is high on your priorities, we have it taken care of.


We have the great thinkers, the steady movers, the cautious (yet fun) individuals who ruminate on decisions and their plethora of outcomes, slowly dissecting and transecting the multitude of potential reactions (and in-actions), asking opinions, sitting on great secrets, slowly planning and rethinking, and then suddenly being daringly triumphant... Getting exactly the desired outcome due to years of observation and planning.


Then we have the quick movers, the "have to do or all is lost" movers and shakers, the ones who swoop in like gannets, diving head first, all or nothing resting on the single reaction or response, "Going Large" ... "Hollywood or bust"... in fact, being very "American" in the impulsiveness.. as well as in my personal opinion, acting on very appropriate (intimate and not blatantly obvious) cues and nuances that persuade or lead the "perceived impulsiveness".


And then on one side you have the emotional observers, asking every question under the sun, interpreting, categorising, summarising,interviewing, comparing notes, and yes,  even crying, versus the other pragmatic and logical (and slightly less emotional) observers who offer up old simple truths delivered in the form of well known cliches,  of "this is the time" and "it was bound to happen"...They are the controlled emotion, the private emotion, the sensible emotion, polar opposites of the first type of emotion displayed, the overly emotive emotional. Yet all can  of course profess and offer undying support and  encouragement for all..


So that is the emotional state (basically narrowed down for ease of navigation) of the family over these past two weeks. Of course  this is (as every other piece of information basically is in life) an opinion from one of the overly emotional observers.


What transpired in actuality was more of a careful dance of planes, trains and automobiles... Jordan arrived on Thursday the 12th of July at 12h30pm in Atlanta. He then stayed at the airport for five hours to wait for Kate to arrive... She thought he was arriving on Saturday the 14th... So big surprise for her. I ambushed them on Friday morning at 7am... and there are the dopey eyed photos of them as I roused them out of bed. Nothing says "welcome to America" than being ambushed by Bern, her camera, and her two screaming kids)... After a pretty rushed (yet fun) weekend the two love birds rushed off to Jordans other home, AKA La Verne California.

What is it exactly about La Verne that makes Jordan feel at home? I think a major thing that keeps him  coming back is the comraderie he experienced with his friends during the "most free" time of his life. He escaped the clutches of the Pretoria Boys' aerie and flew the coop, just two months before his standard nine exams, to arrive mid year in one of Southern California's most sensible  little towns...He got to ride a bicycle to school, assimilate into the culture of hoodies and jeans (not bashers and pinstripe blazers)... And I think for the first time in his rather serious life, he got to be a kid. He played in the drum line at school. He grew his hair long and fuzzy. He got to chat to all the single ladies. Become a hard working, 4am barista at Starbucks, as well as had natural and free relationships with the people around him, that didnt occur because they were all stuck in School House (the boarding house he was in at Pretoria Boys). http://www.boyshigh.com/index.php?page=briefhistory

My mom worked night shift at Foothills Presbytarian Hospital and I know that meant Jordan, age
17, was at home alone on those nights she was a couple of miles away at work. Home was a one bedroom apartment in a gated apartment complex. More like duplexes, not as scummy as the apartments I have seen here in Atlanta. The one bedroom apartments in 2007 in California also cost more than my mortgage on my 3 bedroom house with just under 1acre garden costs in Georgia in 2012 by about $400 per month... So he wasnt left in the lurch. He was as safe as anyone could be if you think about it.

But what I think is significant, is this kiddo had been in such a controlled and regulated environment at School House. To be alone at night must have been quite a relief. Because I know (and I have felt this too) that you can be totally alone in a crowd, just it takes effort to block out their noises and shenanigans etc, and to tune into your own personal reverie...But when you are truly alone, and you can sit on the couch, drink a cup of tea whilst you put your feet on the coffee table, and only hear the echo's of your singular voice echoing off the pale cream stucco walls, that you attain a certain level of perfection, the kind that really nourishes the real you, yourself. Who you are. Where you are going. And where you need to be.

So like I mentioned before, Jord would take off before 4am to be the barista at the Starbucks... then he would go to high school.... He even went to prom... From this side on the east coast, it looked like a movie. He was attaining all the 'milestones' set by movies like American Pie... (because as I have learnt, most American life is accurately portrayed in the movies...especially the terrible comedies...)... It was like he picked up momentum. Fueled by a desire to have every 'normal' childhood experience, condensed into the period of like 20 months.

So whilst he was there he met and made some pivotal friends, the quintessential California family. Moms ironically from Kaapstad... Dad is of Spanish descent... They fit into the picture the same way a beautiful palm tree clings to the landscape in a coastal photo. Like they were innate, like they always had been a part of his existence. Like apple pie and ice cream... And a grande mocha frapp....

So I think wherever Jord goes on his serious side, Kyrgystan, Afghanisan, Germany, Virginia, Texas, he is California dreaming, of the summer sunshine, and that main street in La Verne where if you drive and keep your eyes open, you will find someone you know, or someone you know who knows someone you know, and you can all hook up, have fun, light hearted, spontaneous... just a high time and a brief reprieve from "The Everything Else" that pays for his vacations...

Meanwhile, back in Georgia, a very scared Sukhi and Auntie Anti arrived here from England. Sukhi was scared for a couple of reasons. I think he told Antoinette that he was anxious to meet my children, and I think that was one aspect of his anxiety that he could at least share with her, and use her silken words to caress or quell any lingering fronds of dis-ease... So I met them on a Thursday night at about 9pm. I had my hair done on the other side of town and I was actually alone (major feat in my life)... And I slipped into my parents house for some lasagne and some face to face conversation versus facetime.

Sukhi is the most congenial of sorts. He is an absolute doll. He has these large expressive eyes and a beautiful flashy smile that he uses in tandem with the eyes, and a series of brow furrows to put you at ease... and to most importantly, make you laugh. He is funny, witty, and absolutely devoted to my sister.

His devotion also meant he traveled en route with a giant princess cut engagement ring, and underneath all the fun and games, he had a serious question to pose to my parents. So I was given the task of subterfuge and on Friday night I whisked my almost narcoleptic and fedup sister to five different shops in 'search of a bikini'... what actually happened at home was Sukhi had "The Talk" with my parents... And she returned home, unawares of the shenanigans... exhausted, with a new blue bikini. tee hee.

On Saturday we set out for Tybee Island GA. My mom drove Ant and Sukhi... And Kurtis drove myself and the girls. We did not travel in convoy as we liked to keep driving at different paces.

Tybee was not exactly what I imagined. Now the condo that I had helped my dad reserve was on the higher end of the prices for the area. I chose the area due to its close proximity to Savannah Georgia (I wanted to take photos of the plantation houses, which in fact never happened as I was far too busy being a beach bum, due to the insufferable heat and humidity)... As well as that my neighbours at home all vouch for the area. It was also approx 320 miles from home, so a 5 1/2 hour drive, on open highway. Unlike the drive to Panama City or the Gulf of Mexico on those windy little roads...

So we arrived and we were instantly gridlocked in tourist traffic. I had been told that Tybee was sleepy. What I saw was hoards of cars, pedestrians, etc, no parking, paid parking, parking meters, surfer dudes, junk surf shops, bars bars bars, and oh my stomach absolutely fell, the condo had been described to me as beach front. Just I didnt know it overlooked the main parking area for the beach. I saw a parking area in the photos.. Just I thought that was the condo's private parking area... So on Saturday and Sunday the place was slamming, hot and busy and frenetic. By Monday (thank God)... it was blissful, quiet, etc... And the rest of the week continued in a more blissful manner... with Friday night being busy again...

The houses around the beach were called "Shotgun" houses for the most part. Shotgun means if you opened up the front door you could see the whole way through the house, like they are narrow and long. Many of them were raised up on cinder blocks, I assume to avoid flooding. Some were ratty and derelict. Some were pristine and snooty. All were haphazardly sandwiched together in a colourful beach tapestry, the sand dotting and decorating every corner and every surface. Rusted pipes. An unused jacuzzi and pump parts leaning against a fence.

Yet our condo was lovely on the inside. In the garage area, the metal door had been rusted by the elements. When we parked and traipsed up to our first floor condo, we were very apprehensive. We entered through the patio door.  There were large square tiles on the floor, two perpendicular sliding glass doors, which then opened onto a large L shaped balcony. They put four unusually high rocking chairs on the patio... as well as a six person glass table with chairs.. and a wicker basket for all of our beach toys, goggles, etc. Inside was an open plan kitchen, living room and diningroom. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Directly from the kitchen sink you looked out over a travertine island (we decided it wasnt marble), across the hardwood floor, onto the balcony, and then to the ocean where you frequently had these huge container ships pass by... Just in front of the balcony, healthy strong palm trees swayed in the ocean breeze.

Sukhi had at this point, given the ring to my mom. Antoinette had been "rummaging" through the bags. This had made him nervous....

Shannon had also seen pictures of the ring on his iphone and asked if it was for Antoinette. Sukhi said it was and that Shannon was not to tell... And Shannon then asked "what was in it for her?" (not to tell)... ha ha... extortion... a game for the whole family to play...

On Monday night, Jord and Kate arrived at about 1am from California... So the next morning everything was a lively mass of more bodies clamoured about in the kitchen, more bodies bustling for the beach, and more bodies wearing bling.

My brother had proposed to Kate on Laguna beach in California... And she had said "Absolutely"... Which leads us to the next question? Who is Kate?

I had felt jilted because I was supposed to have two days with my new sister in law to be before they went to Cali, but since Jord arrived early, I didnt get to have her to myself... boo hoo....

Kate is 22 and actually went to the same primary school as Jordan... And that is where the whole story began... But separate her from Jord and you have this articulate, intelligent, soft and beautiful person, a very sensitive person, she almost reminds me of a little butterfly. But a butterfly with boxing gloves. She can stand up for herself. The main thing that overwhelms me is that even though she had so much going on in her life, she gave it up, to go and move back to England to work nights... to basically be on my brothers beck and call for when he goes back to Germany from Afghanistan. Shes basically put herself in a position where Jord is the protagonist and she is the supporting role, simply because "She knows she will get to her goal, even if it takes 10 years"... I dont see a huge overwhelming "eid" in her... For someone this beautiful and this capable, you expect to see selfishness or unbridled ambition... But instead she is genteel, genuine and absolutely beautiful inside AND out...

My dad then arrived on Tuesday night, also at about 1am... So beside the fact that we rode jetskis, walked on the beach, and on the pier. Beside the fact that we swam in the sea, someone was stung by jellyfish, and that we ate too much food...Besides the fact that there were pink sunsets, crashing waves, an airspace full of pelicans, gulls, and the blackest night sky punctuated by a waxing crescent moon... The main themes of this holiday were acceptance, change, flexibility, and everybody just trying their best to be courteous, gracious, and to all get along.

Such a glorious way to meet and get acquainted with a new sister AND a new brother...

PS: Ants proposal? Thursday August 2nd 2012... At some time Sukhi (who was acting rather odd that day) took her out to Liberty Island. And I dont know what was said, exactly what the interchange contained, or how it was done, or where... But instagram had a photo of a freshly manicured hand, and a flawless blue/white diamond, and a giggling gerty, effervescent with surprise spoke to us in a sing songy voice via skype... And poor Sukh just looked so relieved.

So on behalf of my dad and I, we would like to say we have proof we CAN keep a secret... :)