tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41386395714644557292024-03-05T00:18:40.115-06:00Scenes from a Spunky SoulUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-22080006293823034992015-12-27T22:34:00.000-06:002015-12-27T22:34:39.777-06:00TGBKA: Christmas 2015Despite how "behind" I always feel, we seem to make the event lovely and memorable. Christmas Day was glorious! We started when we felt like it (read: the kids let the parents sleep in!!!), we ate cake for breakfast (it <i>is</i> Jesus' birthday you know), we sipped on coffee (because <i>nothing</i> of substance happens in our house until a cup is downed), and we opened our presents. Before we got started in the kitchen, we played some board games as a family. Then Sweet Baboo took The Elder to Walking District while The Wee and I got the place ready for guests. Here is the day in photos:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee got the very hat she was eyeballing! Her sister distracted her while I made the purchase. It was a team effort!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4oGsRkWtjbJ7hiy2CgTJYwtfHvj8ZULMShAGF4bh_0dPE2s83fWtYEBHssZhpDMuBF81ynjjMKIPF9yJqGL6bhhVURQb5TqDHVDnf1QCbcpnFLtZ0p9z7ddd4svxWHHsU7siWnAQj4OI/s640/blogger-image-1186235029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4oGsRkWtjbJ7hiy2CgTJYwtfHvj8ZULMShAGF4bh_0dPE2s83fWtYEBHssZhpDMuBF81ynjjMKIPF9yJqGL6bhhVURQb5TqDHVDnf1QCbcpnFLtZ0p9z7ddd4svxWHHsU7siWnAQj4OI/s400/blogger-image-1186235029.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand warmers are all the rage this year. At least, in our house they are!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because... are your hands <i>really</i> warm if you're not shoving them in odd spots inside your stuffed animals?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet Baboo got a little stool to sit on when he comes home and needs to take off his boots. </td></tr>
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This was a big deal. In Korean homes, you do not enter until your shoes are removed. In our lease, we have agreed to not wear shoes that have been worn outside in the house. But when Sweet Baboo comes home, with his arms full of Army stuff, and boots laced up to his shins, the removal process has been tedious. We got him a stool to make the process a bit easier, and he was thrilled!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big dilemma this year was Mal vs Evie.</td></tr>
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When the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3440298/" target="_blank">Descendents movie</a> came out earlier this year, The Elder and I were <i>hooked</i>. I'm so glad that I have an excuse for watching cheesy Disney movies; but if you've known me long enough you'll know that my love for Disney movies, television shows, soundtracks, theme parks, etc. runs deep. (When Sweet Baboo and I were dating, I had over 150 Disney soundtracks on cd... and those were filed next to their DVD or VHS movies in my room. It's amazing he found me "adult" enough to date!) </div>
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When Disney started merchandising the movie, The Elder was deep in her own quandary. The dolls were $25 each, and earning enough money to get just one doll would take her a month. Doubling down on that effort seemed to take an eternity to a 10 year old! I advised her to put the dolls on her Christmas list, and she wasn't getting that she could ask for <i>both.</i> Rather, every time we went to the Post Exchange (PX) she would stare at both dolls and say, "Mal or Evie? Evie or Mal? Which one should I ask for?" Sweet Baboo and I loved that she was absolutely tormented over this. She didn't feel like she could ask for both. And when she opened both dolls, her first words were "but that was a <i>lot</i> of money!" We chuckled and told her that we had saved <i>our</i> dollars to get them <i>both </i>for her. She was very thankful and loved the gifts.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got the coolest gift by far! Who wouldn't want a Christmas Bunny hat/scarf/gloves combo?</td></tr>
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And I rocked that crazy thing to the mail room the next day. It was most definitely appreciated!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee got a Mickey Mouse Tool Set. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She immediately went to work around the apartment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLfvpWu-gvQPhl631uqG1VLOpIrsURFv5ZKYAnpHKtSV7UaS3ADL4XpkTyIXildNMg2jVH4qe9fWPFlXsDUnRdEGv261yoI-5D-AoVBUWkDeX4eTs_Iu782DDzh9KksQY5fy9YGwYF2lY/s640/blogger-image-127933715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLfvpWu-gvQPhl631uqG1VLOpIrsURFv5ZKYAnpHKtSV7UaS3ADL4XpkTyIXildNMg2jVH4qe9fWPFlXsDUnRdEGv261yoI-5D-AoVBUWkDeX4eTs_Iu782DDzh9KksQY5fy9YGwYF2lY/s400/blogger-image-127933715.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the year that The Elder wanted clothes and jewelry as much as she wanted toys. Our little girl is becoming a little lady.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ufdaxANssOoLtMFJf5FZARpx3v-Ld9IDN0hvLPdYAIDVTdCvILjbvaOE0U6FjDqYIKa3ET5U43SqRbvXlWiybMWbBIkCd3sP7lyugaaEfDBNLaStdOz5eI1SXA9elnGJ_eV_De9u7dyR/s640/blogger-image-1226705537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ufdaxANssOoLtMFJf5FZARpx3v-Ld9IDN0hvLPdYAIDVTdCvILjbvaOE0U6FjDqYIKa3ET5U43SqRbvXlWiybMWbBIkCd3sP7lyugaaEfDBNLaStdOz5eI1SXA9elnGJ_eV_De9u7dyR/s400/blogger-image-1226705537.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She is so excited that she gets to wear dangly ear rings. And her daddy got her a pretty purple jewel inside of a white gold heart necklace. </td></tr>
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Then, Sweet Baboo took The Elder to Walking District in search of the fleece lined pants that he was in deep desire of owning, but I was incapable of getting for him. To our surprise, Walking District was a-buzz of activity on Christmas Day! The Wee and I stayed behind to get food cooking.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqmpNooIWH7aX3JnnB8FzykbTTq3uvS7uVCiUepwu_BJkVfFD-vrRJopyK2W7QcMFhADsBo5RwZxArzvEOfEf9qV8ozRLoikKKFRIV7zKmkrYpAzg0Nz_bMRYvnlMcVhgYD1SNODEcUqB2/s640/blogger-image-725239067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqmpNooIWH7aX3JnnB8FzykbTTq3uvS7uVCiUepwu_BJkVfFD-vrRJopyK2W7QcMFhADsBo5RwZxArzvEOfEf9qV8ozRLoikKKFRIV7zKmkrYpAzg0Nz_bMRYvnlMcVhgYD1SNODEcUqB2/s400/blogger-image-725239067.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was treated to fairy dancing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgR70JEekLhPLz5Y3bcxEAk38Pic5FNbjezQaMVgxaYYV0zN8nZ32CTY7mxZ1c1-SFEHTSF8JQ4aMWIk68lybCLg-rK8f8xQBGG3108je7nTn7hkHcd4QUWJ5laVGePht9b1880RnZN06/s640/blogger-image-242545982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgR70JEekLhPLz5Y3bcxEAk38Pic5FNbjezQaMVgxaYYV0zN8nZ32CTY7mxZ1c1-SFEHTSF8JQ4aMWIk68lybCLg-rK8f8xQBGG3108je7nTn7hkHcd4QUWJ5laVGePht9b1880RnZN06/s400/blogger-image-242545982.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I almost burned down the apartment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGuNshfPqw4wxpVHpsBNrKaKJqXvkrF4ywbFsRJFKv5Fe5y2HxsCzxyaB2XvMmiH0iYLDWecLkNJVUh6o9mjATTuXUJIVXI4PXZlxMJVXGOI9bYmlauKwOzMisBBuGUpXMtc2eFjIAeAfi/s640/blogger-image-946984739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGuNshfPqw4wxpVHpsBNrKaKJqXvkrF4ywbFsRJFKv5Fe5y2HxsCzxyaB2XvMmiH0iYLDWecLkNJVUh6o9mjATTuXUJIVXI4PXZlxMJVXGOI9bYmlauKwOzMisBBuGUpXMtc2eFjIAeAfi/s400/blogger-image-946984739.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lounge was peaceful</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7E2Grq6xBHfXuWjch9Cfd-d4sdzztweEAMDwkkEaamJfRogz1D-FoXokAL9J74XXzm_WgRWR-rZl33J624hfYCagf7TkrcUDaKXf7i4UqD4AfQwt2N8EpyTqX7znEiLTc770in__k7zj/s640/blogger-image-1752894259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7E2Grq6xBHfXuWjch9Cfd-d4sdzztweEAMDwkkEaamJfRogz1D-FoXokAL9J74XXzm_WgRWR-rZl33J624hfYCagf7TkrcUDaKXf7i4UqD4AfQwt2N8EpyTqX7znEiLTc770in__k7zj/s640/blogger-image-1752894259.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We learned Life lessons (like pay the $100K for college so you can get paid more in the game).</td></tr>
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For the record: I stomped the family at Life. My net worth at the end was $4.9 million. Sweet Baboo ended up with just under $4 million. Of course, we both paid the $100K for college at the beginning. The girls didn't spend the $100K, and ended up with just under $1 million and $1.2 million. Later that night, I played Life against some of the Soldiers. We all went to college in the game, and I still won. #winningatthegamecalledlife<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHZOP0h5nxz2SG86mvBjQnhuYMNvrjArxUwRhRkHlb7OIiYqF5q4Dt_DFEdoGRWl9QBGCsPC5ciwhrOasKE9SGamvK_LPwzW2-pwGaLIcVJ1ijlr0AnYw2dNO58DCX4WZD02cn2tfJaUH/s640/blogger-image-317049463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHZOP0h5nxz2SG86mvBjQnhuYMNvrjArxUwRhRkHlb7OIiYqF5q4Dt_DFEdoGRWl9QBGCsPC5ciwhrOasKE9SGamvK_LPwzW2-pwGaLIcVJ1ijlr0AnYw2dNO58DCX4WZD02cn2tfJaUH/s400/blogger-image-317049463.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a great crew over!</td></tr>
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Some people were excited to come over when we gave them the invite. Others thought they wanted to stay in their barracks room and sulk... while drinking. We respected both decisions, but made sure the drinking sulkers knew they could come over if they changed their minds. We had some mind-changers, and I'm glad to have brightened the Christmas day for many geo-bachelors.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI7EeC2JvJy79m8IAi5YPycIsmJKFtzYIsKLgxygrwdnEylLzli1xtMAOVBKhLjys4dYsk31sVp5BhTK2F6tz-YZ3ixMLszctcTBSE4b5oxY9gD45F6cQ__PmN8hh7fyl9tkK_BROxieg/s640/blogger-image-1054444559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI7EeC2JvJy79m8IAi5YPycIsmJKFtzYIsKLgxygrwdnEylLzli1xtMAOVBKhLjys4dYsk31sVp5BhTK2F6tz-YZ3ixMLszctcTBSE4b5oxY9gD45F6cQ__PmN8hh7fyl9tkK_BROxieg/s400/blogger-image-1054444559.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wii-U was played by many</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1XcEYmdFqigjoeWjErwG2nTl5LHvhQYww6SFJb-iKC4pPCKchfeH3w9ij04d_IsNl8c-i_Nt9-UoJQZKaMOPl_Lrx6rNlq1HtkdTBpD5XC2IFyinuGga5wSXmN-HP2XAeAbpFYyQ8OJ4/s640/blogger-image--2002471958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1XcEYmdFqigjoeWjErwG2nTl5LHvhQYww6SFJb-iKC4pPCKchfeH3w9ij04d_IsNl8c-i_Nt9-UoJQZKaMOPl_Lrx6rNlq1HtkdTBpD5XC2IFyinuGga5wSXmN-HP2XAeAbpFYyQ8OJ4/s400/blogger-image--2002471958.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silly hats were modeled. Just because.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI7EeC2JvJy79m8IAi5YPycIsmJKFtzYIsKLgxygrwdnEylLzli1xtMAOVBKhLjys4dYsk31sVp5BhTK2F6tz-YZ3ixMLszctcTBSE4b5oxY9gD45F6cQ__PmN8hh7fyl9tkK_BROxieg/s640/blogger-image-1054444559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2nhNmK0GlBA5zSotbsDT6jr3sDfN6epBzu731CtgWBL2hrogQGowqob6beEMDMrqAK7dQxmuin6w2spkM7XYAsW832hkVfIWRuinNUToPu_PLnbZ8icWgMJRZgwejchsrLfoadsDwNoc/s640/blogger-image-1528179278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2nhNmK0GlBA5zSotbsDT6jr3sDfN6epBzu731CtgWBL2hrogQGowqob6beEMDMrqAK7dQxmuin6w2spkM7XYAsW832hkVfIWRuinNUToPu_PLnbZ8icWgMJRZgwejchsrLfoadsDwNoc/s400/blogger-image-1528179278.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And passed around to other models.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztbN0_aD5NrZodxU2q_xMg2k-eQ5OWoewA8h7IYDqpOFs5d5Gz6p-8pTWCr8-bXXAaMm4uqBlXI8CbBTNg5x5rw96BEoeauUyRGI-ooYz75a3JAHVHS_hyXh9ZGGvqZyOP1zKZShsi6fS/s640/blogger-image-321630200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztbN0_aD5NrZodxU2q_xMg2k-eQ5OWoewA8h7IYDqpOFs5d5Gz6p-8pTWCr8-bXXAaMm4uqBlXI8CbBTNg5x5rw96BEoeauUyRGI-ooYz75a3JAHVHS_hyXh9ZGGvqZyOP1zKZShsi6fS/s400/blogger-image-321630200.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soju was consumed, games were played, and laughter abounded. </td></tr>
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I say this every year, but it's absolutely true: This was the <i>BEST</i> Christmas ever.<br /><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-46095259512225741892015-12-25T22:03:00.003-06:002015-12-25T22:11:39.709-06:00TGBKA: Christmas Eve 2015Two days before Christmas Eve, I was at the Battalion HQ speaking with the BC about the upcoming winter formal. The units are on half-day schedule, and I have been running around trying to not interrupt their hectic attempt to get everything done so they can head home and get some much-needed rest. But I have had things to do, and needed to get answers before they could get their rest. So I made my rounds.<br />
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The first person I needed to speak with was the Company 1SG, but he wasn't at the company. Then I wanted to get Sweet Baboo's boss' attention, but he wasn't at his office. Almost ready to give up, I headed into the BC's office to ask about vector files and found success! Upon leaving his office, however, I literally bumped into 1SG as he was leaving CSM's office. He mentioned that the companies in the battalion were coming together in a last-minute effort to provide some jackets and food for a foster home in Area 1. He had a list of children who were in desperate need of a jacket that fit them, and was running out of the CSM's office to go shopping. I asked him if the FRG could use some of the funds we had raised in our gift-wrapping efforts to purchase the food. We decided that we would gather resources, seek out Soldiers who wanted to participate, and chat the next day.</div>
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By yesterday, Sweet Baboo had found two guys in his office who wanted to donate time and money to the effort. I found three Soldiers from the company who wanted to do the same. 1SG was teaming up with another company in the battalion to gather the rest of the goodies. We agreed to meet today (Christmas Eve) to take everything to the children. Here are the photos from the event:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOECSMaUaMOIRn9IV99h_FpdKjgCIPywqjr5XIBh_DCgNeYF0AbtXBfVWnslznxpoun8eZzOTDggW3pQQPX4rF72LfZuZozG8jYxtp5BdzoCAL9DUSr88fjlH_mJ8vMTW0K6_pDNgziWdZ/s640/blogger-image-1001081006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOECSMaUaMOIRn9IV99h_FpdKjgCIPywqjr5XIBh_DCgNeYF0AbtXBfVWnslznxpoun8eZzOTDggW3pQQPX4rF72LfZuZozG8jYxtp5BdzoCAL9DUSr88fjlH_mJ8vMTW0K6_pDNgziWdZ/s400/blogger-image-1001081006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were able to get fifty pounds of rice, 20 pounds of fresh meat, 10 pounds of beans, and other foods. We also got jackets, a tv, a PS3, and a couple of video games!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtcxT3Y1Tl1cR-Ua6HRLeeJn4BZgUl0cbc-xcK3rs4pFcmveB8jZPorJkef7c-cn5tex8Qt1GhsU5oNF18usXVAYgOizeCw0B6cwCjYLKjKe_EW-2lbbdL0nkjXRwVOa2MMhowoF4XKDD/s640/blogger-image--900508406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtcxT3Y1Tl1cR-Ua6HRLeeJn4BZgUl0cbc-xcK3rs4pFcmveB8jZPorJkef7c-cn5tex8Qt1GhsU5oNF18usXVAYgOizeCw0B6cwCjYLKjKe_EW-2lbbdL0nkjXRwVOa2MMhowoF4XKDD/s400/blogger-image--900508406.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before we could give out the gifts, we were treated to a little concert inside of a church.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_25M3AfucvcKPQ-I_O0-CGDTG9FN4ecuWIeDI6cE2RoStG_QIgiRoGJxA8hS-jvnWyymxGP8LjoU_gB694qz8WEcjx2YMpdU9U72n0DXQVWSsefrU9L_v98m1EvWJfuRclW2zQG9xFC-/s640/blogger-image--1088878471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_25M3AfucvcKPQ-I_O0-CGDTG9FN4ecuWIeDI6cE2RoStG_QIgiRoGJxA8hS-jvnWyymxGP8LjoU_gB694qz8WEcjx2YMpdU9U72n0DXQVWSsefrU9L_v98m1EvWJfuRclW2zQG9xFC-/s400/blogger-image--1088878471.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This young man is about to go to university, and gave a spectacular opera-style performance!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKC4Fo0Wtgk_vogsQYEnxRgkVui8Nq-9c3KHkGiu5CpxccoxG8vV4qEHxF3ERdacrS3C8Gp9pyfA3oYpwRd2jipQBijKvRE2oWiN5u0vLwqE2UNxWSKaLyHmfEyLUyXYu4eo2tiMvFUyr/s640/blogger-image-1679491884.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKC4Fo0Wtgk_vogsQYEnxRgkVui8Nq-9c3KHkGiu5CpxccoxG8vV4qEHxF3ERdacrS3C8Gp9pyfA3oYpwRd2jipQBijKvRE2oWiN5u0vLwqE2UNxWSKaLyHmfEyLUyXYu4eo2tiMvFUyr/s400/blogger-image-1679491884.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then the two 1SGs were invited to the front to talk, and they asked myself and another woman to join them. I was unprepared to talk, just to give.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRuxmg9e961UXMJB_PjpEG-PzoV1PxHnjmWdB4N9zuUCMjhuwoSU1Qz2QDXPxD9yOoR3jMmDiLdaALb-jTAbGOYkgpY-2z__MyB1cQV0963851sZmQNxSZpYbo3muceqOJn12S9V8nEw-/s640/blogger-image-361255200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRuxmg9e961UXMJB_PjpEG-PzoV1PxHnjmWdB4N9zuUCMjhuwoSU1Qz2QDXPxD9yOoR3jMmDiLdaALb-jTAbGOYkgpY-2z__MyB1cQV0963851sZmQNxSZpYbo3muceqOJn12S9V8nEw-/s400/blogger-image-361255200.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then, we got to bring in PILES of jackets! It was wonderful!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji3_6anPGHYw2tHXCrOMgGm-3yRbwqaOLbw9-jOrCviL1UWKvsSzAhpUqWoypUG3eDs8jEzIl2SlahmZ-YneJaCopa5lg3sLQ-sKrR_QbUbV4hU5s-BZp21npLkFEmCGW1oEj3M3F8-E7X/s640/blogger-image--1627812558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji3_6anPGHYw2tHXCrOMgGm-3yRbwqaOLbw9-jOrCviL1UWKvsSzAhpUqWoypUG3eDs8jEzIl2SlahmZ-YneJaCopa5lg3sLQ-sKrR_QbUbV4hU5s-BZp21npLkFEmCGW1oEj3M3F8-E7X/s400/blogger-image--1627812558.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And donate this getup for the children to enjoy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseVw16CiEthVdOopglYOVlWU5R8cNpMzqapVxmyra1NA2L6p7uIWBOLVwPrAXFyzw96q4yHGirwCCbPPpHBCx6MhMvWTVLGB2GpUe7NE2s0iM9qeEVUaT1_JwDZCdkAzRotg9oa1qFxLh/s640/blogger-image-486907908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseVw16CiEthVdOopglYOVlWU5R8cNpMzqapVxmyra1NA2L6p7uIWBOLVwPrAXFyzw96q4yHGirwCCbPPpHBCx6MhMvWTVLGB2GpUe7NE2s0iM9qeEVUaT1_JwDZCdkAzRotg9oa1qFxLh/s400/blogger-image-486907908.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FqbIeaJugyiupupuQR7_s6PTU-SRnS1RXsXcY8f-BF3TQZVj_Cs-G76xMeEtTd4Qzd5v29MwAJ68rGgYB8g6Rza7RozFtMnjDrESldzXnqvYM8Kn28kVLYt8ddy4d5jOKnECdywiF45A/s640/blogger-image-1776213039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FqbIeaJugyiupupuQR7_s6PTU-SRnS1RXsXcY8f-BF3TQZVj_Cs-G76xMeEtTd4Qzd5v29MwAJ68rGgYB8g6Rza7RozFtMnjDrESldzXnqvYM8Kn28kVLYt8ddy4d5jOKnECdywiF45A/s400/blogger-image-1776213039.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figuring out which jacket would fit each child was a bit of work, and it was quite chaotic...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeN_omubi5NPj6YOLNVCvk71RUNHFTFnJDK_Aab32afcl3m_3gV96OFKpItE6x78UAhZ2Lj6XcVnDUKQBxjfAf_bk9hG4YrMEDmWruO3MjTU5jcAo0M5qH9747GdwY-iJ7DOnLuBI6pQA/s640/blogger-image-608904193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeN_omubi5NPj6YOLNVCvk71RUNHFTFnJDK_Aab32afcl3m_3gV96OFKpItE6x78UAhZ2Lj6XcVnDUKQBxjfAf_bk9hG4YrMEDmWruO3MjTU5jcAo0M5qH9747GdwY-iJ7DOnLuBI6pQA/s400/blogger-image-608904193.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but the children were quite happy with their gifts.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMoE5WaZC8sKW_m_i0aPFtNMKrP-Zit3rtgZvrO2vRm5tvV89U5jsyZ3fNOT1iV_m6TST3ymu1jqbTUDefhBBmJ405yFrDSgNDdIhm8aWlm2CqaAB2buBZs-7wM7oC2ybdMvfozaEG3CE/s640/blogger-image-1711023565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMoE5WaZC8sKW_m_i0aPFtNMKrP-Zit3rtgZvrO2vRm5tvV89U5jsyZ3fNOT1iV_m6TST3ymu1jqbTUDefhBBmJ405yFrDSgNDdIhm8aWlm2CqaAB2buBZs-7wM7oC2ybdMvfozaEG3CE/s400/blogger-image-1711023565.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We grabbed a quick group photo before we left.</td></tr>
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We left to head to the Mitchell's Club on Camp Red Cloud, but that ended up being a miserable experience. I actually let that experience put a damper on my night for a quick stint. I cried, and said "My Christmas Eve is now ruined." And I regret saying those outloud because the kids hear it. And typing this now, I realize how silly I was for letting that creep into my heart for a minute, and how foolish I was for letting the girls see it. Because while I will only give any money to the Mitchell's Club in dire extreme situations, I didn't have to <i>choose</i> to let their poor planning and terrible customer service ruin a single moment in my world. </div>
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We recovered quite quickly, and headed over to Hoolala Chicken (a restaurant just outside of our apartment complex) for a stellar Christmas Eve Dinner. Then, we headed home.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxAlpFx55NEsMYUBCVE4dp6qrkAp9g4mjsXyYtKROxYBoj-2VG6Lzu1RHNBlMB4iVOllc3aoZOzJNgFWTpKdfmvcy6nt9guGJ3xldlI7qJrqB8XXDkXMfqd5GYpytIcvrqhoB_NkMXWEC/s640/blogger-image-855223047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxAlpFx55NEsMYUBCVE4dp6qrkAp9g4mjsXyYtKROxYBoj-2VG6Lzu1RHNBlMB4iVOllc3aoZOzJNgFWTpKdfmvcy6nt9guGJ3xldlI7qJrqB8XXDkXMfqd5GYpytIcvrqhoB_NkMXWEC/s400/blogger-image-855223047.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When we got home we realized that we haven't wrapped the first present to go under our tree!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNv-bBcEPe58semi-yRr4P2uG95g-QhSyMtqHCJQXKo01BDzjQBcIHwiM3GC6qstQdENfHRL7gHcxsDRbgEkaDDkytuuvd1648r8tXh8j5UsBQIXL9m2aLEqE__C74KNLnIeR-wjDA6Fr/s640/blogger-image-494818899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNv-bBcEPe58semi-yRr4P2uG95g-QhSyMtqHCJQXKo01BDzjQBcIHwiM3GC6qstQdENfHRL7gHcxsDRbgEkaDDkytuuvd1648r8tXh8j5UsBQIXL9m2aLEqE__C74KNLnIeR-wjDA6Fr/s400/blogger-image-494818899.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So I put on my Santa's Helper hat and got to work.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdHX7QTPngd3wbIoVeJd0N9_y7gmhZxYfdHzLN5dB2rnWOsJ2JbYbgP3b1XHsJ-Fjsh9EeX0AYePioGYGiJHdnZeCjow0dY1UxhHLcCJKvSpDdNxeVbYok6lNpnX8s0ojePbxzNvsz83A/s640/blogger-image--255055810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdHX7QTPngd3wbIoVeJd0N9_y7gmhZxYfdHzLN5dB2rnWOsJ2JbYbgP3b1XHsJ-Fjsh9EeX0AYePioGYGiJHdnZeCjow0dY1UxhHLcCJKvSpDdNxeVbYok6lNpnX8s0ojePbxzNvsz83A/s400/blogger-image--255055810.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We put the presents under the tree and Sweet Baboo headed to bed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
When he headed to bed, I was just to excited to even think about sleeping. So I sat on the couch and looked at our tree. I couldn't help but have that moment where you see everything in front of you as a huge blessing. We weren't supposed to be in Korea for Christmas. We were supposed to be CONUS, fighting the heartache that Sweet Baboo was here without us. </div>
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And despite all of the struggles, all of the difficulties, and all of the odds that were against us so far in the short 10 years we have been married, I am amazed that I'm still in a fantastic marriage with an amazing man who loves his family dearly. I looked at the tree and noticed that the girls had hung their Christmas Lists on the tree for Santa to double-check. I went over to check it out and see how we did...</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRpcfmZp5l6Bce5GWhDXPcjrRAyEoXBpIcFThL2FW3_Cyv2lN9oOlkYwXkkObDCLyruLSgC9uwsPLAUuh7B-kmfBuFBUQZj-8zLABhQ9gAPPUtQnjOX7ctTIjOizT8GNbT942xBi0K5Dhb/s640/blogger-image-1774983639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRpcfmZp5l6Bce5GWhDXPcjrRAyEoXBpIcFThL2FW3_Cyv2lN9oOlkYwXkkObDCLyruLSgC9uwsPLAUuh7B-kmfBuFBUQZj-8zLABhQ9gAPPUtQnjOX7ctTIjOizT8GNbT942xBi0K5Dhb/s400/blogger-image-1774983639.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Elder's Christmas List</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjbx-SrjywISY3YiIfzAXr_8UoWi9cAf6RGtix4Bm2y-I6rrlQEw_juQYYLMDKEIL4oHHHPWQ2LZQwGDCJ3YeqkTqiIfRQqzDF1oZ3EJw_jjFuNnJ6rpeNwYm6Ey77-b91fSQuNjbHXJ6/s640/blogger-image-667677575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjbx-SrjywISY3YiIfzAXr_8UoWi9cAf6RGtix4Bm2y-I6rrlQEw_juQYYLMDKEIL4oHHHPWQ2LZQwGDCJ3YeqkTqiIfRQqzDF1oZ3EJw_jjFuNnJ6rpeNwYm6Ey77-b91fSQuNjbHXJ6/s400/blogger-image-667677575.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee's Christmas List.</td></tr>
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As usual, they didn't get everything on the list... but we hit the high notes. I had a few more things to take care of before heading to bed, and was more than happy to do so. There was not one bit of tired in me at that point. As I went into the laundry room to tend to the turkey, The Elder woke up. She had been in bed, awake, waiting to go potty. </div>
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The way we keep the girls from sneaking out of bed while we're prepping for Christmas morning is by telling them that if they see Santa, then Santa keeps the presents. Poor thing was waiting until the noise in the house died down before she moved to go to the bathroom. I let her out of her room, and as she scurried to the bathroom she glanced at the tree. On her way out, I called her over to the couch to sit with me and snuggle. The moment was precious. We looked at the tree, and all of the gifts beneath it, making comments on what we saw, and guessing what was inside all of the little packages. The Elder asked if we could wake up The Wee and Sweet Baboo so we could open presents right then. I looked at the clock: 0240. I'll admit to thinking about it for a few moments, but decided that we should get some sleep. She wanted to sleep near the tree, so we made a bed for her on the couch:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGscPluZQ2qSjSOIUwIXHKifALvVtXqIy566O6FkXVNZHd1wFdsJTIdjxu_kaNiWUjtFP3WOvKB32G68YOu3r4rJoaJ1zK4zouZvwF_MusE7qUJ6uxqPu-1_YZpqoqFhRY7WwiLCGFfib/s640/blogger-image--1350438450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGscPluZQ2qSjSOIUwIXHKifALvVtXqIy566O6FkXVNZHd1wFdsJTIdjxu_kaNiWUjtFP3WOvKB32G68YOu3r4rJoaJ1zK4zouZvwF_MusE7qUJ6uxqPu-1_YZpqoqFhRY7WwiLCGFfib/s400/blogger-image--1350438450.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She had the best view in the apartment that night.</td></tr>
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We had an amazing Christmas season, and the grande finale was yet to come!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-7153916901427789612015-12-24T00:12:00.000-06:002015-12-25T21:32:47.067-06:00TGBKA: Unit Adopt an Orphan Event, the Big Day!In my <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.kr/2015/12/tgbka-it-all-started-on-day-3-in-korea.html" target="_blank">previous post,</a> I discussed all of the many projects I have already taken on in Korea. And I honestly couldn't feel more appreciated! For a person who deeply appreciates <a href="http://www.5lovelanguages.com/" target="_blank">words of affirmation</a>, I thrive on positive feedback. I also thrive on thoughtful and constructive criticism, so the words don't have to be all about how amazing I am. Words are powerful, and the use of them (or the neglect to use them, or even the fake use of them) is noticed. But I digress. I keep hearing how much I am appreciated here, and it only makes me want to work harder to keep the praise coming.<br />
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One of my projects came to an end this past weekend and my heart is kind of sad about it. Earlier this month we went to the orphanage to meet the orphans the units in Area 1 adopted. This past Sunday, we got to spend the afternoon as a big group on post with our orphans. Here is how the day went in photos:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6r8mOhiOsBamOPv9AU-x0VPH0xxD1ZeUCy0kYU1kQeHNxo0Pge16zrEqoBxTX01ejvZJy7AWRRjKTWulAjTUK1gpCX1SZoRNfB_ZmdIF78I8TlVgNl7Rmf-Dk1JfFwOAq-y9T2I8AmCU/s640/blogger-image-1393975958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6r8mOhiOsBamOPv9AU-x0VPH0xxD1ZeUCy0kYU1kQeHNxo0Pge16zrEqoBxTX01ejvZJy7AWRRjKTWulAjTUK1gpCX1SZoRNfB_ZmdIF78I8TlVgNl7Rmf-Dk1JfFwOAq-y9T2I8AmCU/s400/blogger-image-1393975958.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole gang from B Co that showed up to show Ae Jin some love.</td></tr>
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When most of the people here are either single Soldiers, or they are geo-bachelors, the time can drag on. I loved seeing so many faces want to take time out of their weekend to come support this wonderful event, especially since it was completely out of their own pockets. What a fantastic group of Soldiers I get to work with!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3JSjqKHz0gYYHuyLSExzlBmV9AVjLgAG_6wzJUTQdnYdk9wsICbXYCufBW6uP31teCGReIIl5d5LeRoZJ8snygAbELFAwS3pbvzBWHF12plpi10ZRkXlkGJrMmzILxoSGjZAJZRbmdfSv/s640/blogger-image-1700455907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3JSjqKHz0gYYHuyLSExzlBmV9AVjLgAG_6wzJUTQdnYdk9wsICbXYCufBW6uP31teCGReIIl5d5LeRoZJ8snygAbELFAwS3pbvzBWHF12plpi10ZRkXlkGJrMmzILxoSGjZAJZRbmdfSv/s400/blogger-image-1700455907.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before we got to spend time with the orphans, they put on a little talent show for us!</td></tr>
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The little girl in pink is 19 years old. I'll let that sink in for you... every orphan at Noah Rehabilitation Center has an incapacity that keeps them from being adopted, and later in life they will probably not leave NRC.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtM2QFieu0-cznBm-j-BfDObTuuojXE6W9nfGiedAUpHbUIpPXavHLSvN3EVb2hXz-cqbGMdaVVC-3NbEDj0tshCTu152CWjDttYLUt5WbVDpVMUcekmhNItoHItQfG-Xomd1tk-F8L7X/s640/blogger-image-904413549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtM2QFieu0-cznBm-j-BfDObTuuojXE6W9nfGiedAUpHbUIpPXavHLSvN3EVb2hXz-cqbGMdaVVC-3NbEDj0tshCTu152CWjDttYLUt5WbVDpVMUcekmhNItoHItQfG-Xomd1tk-F8L7X/s400/blogger-image-904413549.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When Ae Jin came out, we got first hugs!</td></tr>
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She spotted us from the stage before we saw her. I noticed her because she was wearing a red jacket (surprise, surprise... the <i>red</i>), and she was waving with all of her might at us. My heart jumped for joy at her excitement!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCCgrBh5DcF9Lxv3I7BmvaholcM5T-lCylTzbHBn4pa-xRskdzU9QM7tTVYJyBF8jWnYE1XXRZkj86F-utZssf_er_FL9d4sthnGd66iAzdZjslrUi8gqAy4wbYp_9VruBYR3IJB7mjrb/s640/blogger-image-434302701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCCgrBh5DcF9Lxv3I7BmvaholcM5T-lCylTzbHBn4pa-xRskdzU9QM7tTVYJyBF8jWnYE1XXRZkj86F-utZssf_er_FL9d4sthnGd66iAzdZjslrUi8gqAy4wbYp_9VruBYR3IJB7mjrb/s400/blogger-image-434302701.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before they opened the buffet line, two orphans were asked to cut the cake. Ae Jin was one of them!</td></tr>
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They were given a small sword and told to smile for the camera, turn, and cut.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHxi0Wvi0sGlkT9FrUIXYPo0a9597j6pDtF4uZTf1fzk9NYe-7_SoH7iu24wt-l9LGUngRPXEMzUGi8qH6HOkD3Fj7wjXOAjgVb2FZ48CQQWBehHyI4JlzC4b_5iDAmJt3tyV2ZkkaYxU/s640/blogger-image--2065794375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHxi0Wvi0sGlkT9FrUIXYPo0a9597j6pDtF4uZTf1fzk9NYe-7_SoH7iu24wt-l9LGUngRPXEMzUGi8qH6HOkD3Fj7wjXOAjgVb2FZ48CQQWBehHyI4JlzC4b_5iDAmJt3tyV2ZkkaYxU/s400/blogger-image--2065794375.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After dinner, we had to wait for everybody else to finish their food.</td></tr>
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We were the second table to get to go through the food line, so we finished our meal relatively quickly. In waiting, cell phones were brought out and games were played. At one point The Wee showed Ae Jin the <a href="http://www.elfyourself.com/" target="_blank">Elf Yourself App</a> on her daddy's phone. That brought many laughs (we each took a selfie to contribute to the craziness).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGmaFUHSWiOUFUbBU2GeabihCIcsRw0XjsiuB-jitXw5HItHu8ifLJlZtxiuxyJPDqNb3EYjMlc8lc5kE_780K7D0CgcfhlKW3RM7jJ8pRzawa4uJoO_aFu9HeH1-X3ZtUYggYrp8faCk/s640/blogger-image--538172744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGmaFUHSWiOUFUbBU2GeabihCIcsRw0XjsiuB-jitXw5HItHu8ifLJlZtxiuxyJPDqNb3EYjMlc8lc5kE_780K7D0CgcfhlKW3RM7jJ8pRzawa4uJoO_aFu9HeH1-X3ZtUYggYrp8faCk/s400/blogger-image--538172744.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We finally got a half decent (at it's best) cup of coffee.</td></tr>
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The military does not move without a half decent cup of joe first. So when we were dining at a facility on post that didn't immediately have coffee on hand after a meal, Sweet Baboo and I were a little freaked. But one brave soul went into the kitchen and asked what was up. He was offered a single cup of coffee, and made the mistake of walking by our table. Sweet Baboo and I jumped up and immediately interrogated him as to the whereabouts of the source of the caffeine fountain. Eventually, we were able to order a cup. Glorious.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel1SNEYxddF36Cdyjx-QrPeQ0fiGQzo2bZl_PxUIWoe8oQkGW4Ffabw8HeZzgaePIx3xwr3oFt32LhwyuxJQ7UmKsb6pzcbg_4yyoSKDoCcYLJ-Tc21MAZ9BSynDFebHsysIAk0wvYFF7/s640/blogger-image-697599047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel1SNEYxddF36Cdyjx-QrPeQ0fiGQzo2bZl_PxUIWoe8oQkGW4Ffabw8HeZzgaePIx3xwr3oFt32LhwyuxJQ7UmKsb6pzcbg_4yyoSKDoCcYLJ-Tc21MAZ9BSynDFebHsysIAk0wvYFF7/s400/blogger-image-697599047.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We taught Ae Jin about hand slaps...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhmKdVjKVDptOr0kwQJAXlyg4q6sRYax7hyphenhyphenf_kgApUbbzspvWJKBtJfkFnLNugo3t0035hrh6rfwAO-ejOGJJgKsS0idwLIvZHmJca4rHCJGK4U52lVT8DWUtmzMNHyvlKH4_zq8P5bi7/s640/blogger-image-141563880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhmKdVjKVDptOr0kwQJAXlyg4q6sRYax7hyphenhyphenf_kgApUbbzspvWJKBtJfkFnLNugo3t0035hrh6rfwAO-ejOGJJgKsS0idwLIvZHmJca4rHCJGK4U52lVT8DWUtmzMNHyvlKH4_zq8P5bi7/s400/blogger-image-141563880.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...because nothing breaks down cultural differences like hitting each other.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl4p03pqOxog3QQJDw6v40mxosdq2pW5jynOxPIFKLRK6Mhp7cKt0wa8Tus3QANCT_xvXUXuupEcWTR11f4xKU_i8PHKpiZwjOx6IRwHFFSjSHunWM_hww4yiFr4ZpG7YKzpy9kBmEhX6/s640/blogger-image-793338336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl4p03pqOxog3QQJDw6v40mxosdq2pW5jynOxPIFKLRK6Mhp7cKt0wa8Tus3QANCT_xvXUXuupEcWTR11f4xKU_i8PHKpiZwjOx6IRwHFFSjSHunWM_hww4yiFr4ZpG7YKzpy9kBmEhX6/s400/blogger-image-793338336.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She understood it was a game, and loved playing it! </td></tr>
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She even made her way around the room and taught some of her friends from the orphanage the new game. We may have started something that the orphanage isn't going to appreciate, but fun sure was had!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFWmc8jdRjOojofQiXT6utgOFiMO3qXsPP8dBApSv3bPgNTjSGFENyYOdx4ytPfy2fe8YTfl751mOHlKDcykeqr34CPSPMhYKApGNiBbPvZK5d_XQ5RpkGxEkdXlsRWBjnFXdxZC6yyqP/s640/blogger-image-562334829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFWmc8jdRjOojofQiXT6utgOFiMO3qXsPP8dBApSv3bPgNTjSGFENyYOdx4ytPfy2fe8YTfl751mOHlKDcykeqr34CPSPMhYKApGNiBbPvZK5d_XQ5RpkGxEkdXlsRWBjnFXdxZC6yyqP/s400/blogger-image-562334829.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a magic show... and The Elder levitated!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The show was only about 30 minutes, and some of his tricks were easily figured out, but I'll admit to being stumped by a few of them. The Wee was seriously concerned about the safety of her big sister, and The Elder was visibly relieved when she got off the bench.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJhUdtb3kR1DU5etK7YExTnLImYvpcEkziXM-cHqqTtgVPYtagcRqHXpwvqLYtpMkBK6_8hSYNKvtwTlj0qdCoryyVzuqvNtHwaIC50nzNrWLc-a5VQn97eBK7bvnwu-WARdI_vV8zl5O/s640/blogger-image-177563694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJhUdtb3kR1DU5etK7YExTnLImYvpcEkziXM-cHqqTtgVPYtagcRqHXpwvqLYtpMkBK6_8hSYNKvtwTlj0qdCoryyVzuqvNtHwaIC50nzNrWLc-a5VQn97eBK7bvnwu-WARdI_vV8zl5O/s400/blogger-image-177563694.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of selfies were taken</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSWma2Pa5d6bqrt5JhWq81CNwD6mbajYUw4fOySuE-zIgsYlJ11Q445rhbSUnzMAhK1j5bmZzPFOxJ-c5Qbt7iEqHsghLit6yuF3n005hJRWi-UeLeoMnZWFVaZS5pvsV5NTlEtDCAy-g/s640/blogger-image-1983705226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSWma2Pa5d6bqrt5JhWq81CNwD6mbajYUw4fOySuE-zIgsYlJ11Q445rhbSUnzMAhK1j5bmZzPFOxJ-c5Qbt7iEqHsghLit6yuF3n005hJRWi-UeLeoMnZWFVaZS5pvsV5NTlEtDCAy-g/s400/blogger-image-1983705226.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And lots of photos from "back home" were shared.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Have you ever had that moment when you realized that your children had more in common (generationally) with your coworkers than you do? Yeah, these guys were a hoot to watch! And Sweet Baboo and I realized that we are officially the "seasoned" couple.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQxjvSKfMTotxLtoBdXzVUw4jY1yk5KEm8lwUzwymRF7OF3a0ogu1aFYAx3H_Vq1JQBhgjnCxLc52ZVVP72Vi315PzM3fgIebBrF0Xu2cD8dBMadWOCQIBNnMhYY_69eK551vkNxCUVSi/s640/blogger-image-1481113376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQxjvSKfMTotxLtoBdXzVUw4jY1yk5KEm8lwUzwymRF7OF3a0ogu1aFYAx3H_Vq1JQBhgjnCxLc52ZVVP72Vi315PzM3fgIebBrF0Xu2cD8dBMadWOCQIBNnMhYY_69eK551vkNxCUVSi/s400/blogger-image-1481113376.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We gathered around Santa for a photo op!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Poor Ae Jin had to wait close to two hours before she was allowed to open her gifts. We weren't allowed to let her have them until after we saw Santa. But then we got a framed photo to give to her, one to take back to the company, and I got to keep one. The guys were able to sweet-talk themselves into getting a print (and some of them even got a frame as well!)<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AzUHoKX9y0PnETP3n-vmT8OLCQ1F2Df8DA4KP2Gn7wdRIfUlO0rCpk8GvC-ML7B7p6_hUSFarJIaudcQoSFIbwRrLUsfS7eHjkWlgih8Ml-zVJuP_0bUztGHHTXpNo4n98lzTbKAjUZN/s640/blogger-image--578803940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AzUHoKX9y0PnETP3n-vmT8OLCQ1F2Df8DA4KP2Gn7wdRIfUlO0rCpk8GvC-ML7B7p6_hUSFarJIaudcQoSFIbwRrLUsfS7eHjkWlgih8Ml-zVJuP_0bUztGHHTXpNo4n98lzTbKAjUZN/s400/blogger-image--578803940.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presents were opened!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ae Jin's list was so short that she basically knew what she was getting right away. She asked for a music album, some comic books, and that was it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEihPW1aEtHWANGR7AuiW_sB4IIVxMkB9wwQQut92jlTyd9rg4frUveIFZqsdZctwV3qvPkMNDq9Nbphv0WtkO10yO_bfgmMqrwbx-cvOPel1Iij64fsHtHNNPgO1g6dgELKaJlzr76rNA/s640/blogger-image-786706724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEihPW1aEtHWANGR7AuiW_sB4IIVxMkB9wwQQut92jlTyd9rg4frUveIFZqsdZctwV3qvPkMNDq9Nbphv0WtkO10yO_bfgmMqrwbx-cvOPel1Iij64fsHtHNNPgO1g6dgELKaJlzr76rNA/s400/blogger-image-786706724.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She got gifts she wasn't expecting, and she loved it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ah, boy bands. An international love of teenaged girls worldwide! So tossing a poster of a girl's favorite boy band into the pile of presents is almost always a win.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFkz4RufXLXYVY9ixw-hnatF4yv7WGeKaXEFBTZ2swPNAP0NfaGf0Il2YyOv43mUwLeCbh3uUmpoP1j0sBG2-H8gvT1ntENADrr2EVoq3dXdpaYSXidJZtefKtzXcKLmhXnBsqPzI2Dfc/s640/blogger-image--2020460400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFkz4RufXLXYVY9ixw-hnatF4yv7WGeKaXEFBTZ2swPNAP0NfaGf0Il2YyOv43mUwLeCbh3uUmpoP1j0sBG2-H8gvT1ntENADrr2EVoq3dXdpaYSXidJZtefKtzXcKLmhXnBsqPzI2Dfc/s400/blogger-image--2020460400.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More group photos were taken.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswPwUq0LiXJ-FcGFP_bmVQSq8-awQ1ZVGCPho8_7p1UqRME67dDwrLIf72v2NX7uvOcUpaTlFMmz6w1WrrAVeJPYpM3pJVNo5Wvc4qIYHSsGK5xTVQhVUdbI8JFl9BbPWsDLSgo3o9ZKS/s640/blogger-image--1354764705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswPwUq0LiXJ-FcGFP_bmVQSq8-awQ1ZVGCPho8_7p1UqRME67dDwrLIf72v2NX7uvOcUpaTlFMmz6w1WrrAVeJPYpM3pJVNo5Wvc4qIYHSsGK5xTVQhVUdbI8JFl9BbPWsDLSgo3o9ZKS/s400/blogger-image--1354764705.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More presents were opened (and appreciated)...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdPh7ypkm5AVhefBMDnhNh7jlaigbuSFxTlZzV4DXsrzc7yp4CM5ovfzL2EB6lLnmVlSm5aDhX88T_BlCzLfeVw2bxKRneCUfN0jrCLyEMSirhxF6b0AXu3W80KNUScW8U8XRN6h7aH8a/s640/blogger-image--1087840772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdPh7ypkm5AVhefBMDnhNh7jlaigbuSFxTlZzV4DXsrzc7yp4CM5ovfzL2EB6lLnmVlSm5aDhX88T_BlCzLfeVw2bxKRneCUfN0jrCLyEMSirhxF6b0AXu3W80KNUScW8U8XRN6h7aH8a/s400/blogger-image--1087840772.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and loved!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The comic books were not easy to find; she had the first year's books 1-4, but wanted any of the books between 5-10. I could only find book 5, and book 1 from the second year. I was so nervous that I would be disappointing her by not getting 6-10.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCU7B7OIx-ckhBcxP2D_C2fy0DKdI-AA8kUoZqQb4Tkl52yjFLByvf7D9T6NJ067h4NenDUvSabjBj7loz0hNGke5VsHNPdJ-dAJErstBBfWVqbaQux6XaLwZ0FOALB-LaDxGV3Y2bgHKt/s640/blogger-image-391098319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCU7B7OIx-ckhBcxP2D_C2fy0DKdI-AA8kUoZqQb4Tkl52yjFLByvf7D9T6NJ067h4NenDUvSabjBj7loz0hNGke5VsHNPdJ-dAJErstBBfWVqbaQux6XaLwZ0FOALB-LaDxGV3Y2bgHKt/s400/blogger-image-391098319.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She didn't even have the slightest hint of disappointment. She had all hugs for The Elder.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm pretty sure she thought The Elder was responsible for picking up the books. And I don't even care. I was seriously choked up by the response to the presents. All of my anxiety over not coming through <i>to my standards</i> melted away and I was reminded of just how simply Ae Jin lives. She loved getting any one of the gifts, but was very thankful for every one of them!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBPinb9F-ozBBDjyqN-hA8L4r32IM9anzDsSQqgZ2a3bI5Ht9IARhFx6pLcyNh8XiEeaQT1b44SRMVPu4r_sD5G7DlQEIaDRGP5PPu9cqSVwcCgdQnFAbCfPbCLTsDQxUI7S2oGp0a9Op/s640/blogger-image--1254591536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBPinb9F-ozBBDjyqN-hA8L4r32IM9anzDsSQqgZ2a3bI5Ht9IARhFx6pLcyNh8XiEeaQT1b44SRMVPu4r_sD5G7DlQEIaDRGP5PPu9cqSVwcCgdQnFAbCfPbCLTsDQxUI7S2oGp0a9Op/s400/blogger-image--1254591536.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We snuck in a quick family photo with Santa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Though I love the one with the entire group better. In fact, it may be the one I keep with the other annual Santa photos rather than this one.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_swqMHc_GLoCDJIM0LNSTMznnyvZSdj4ij8A1f26UJT5WJBHEiK-1DXzxFGV4RNmQyUuV1N1nCtK-cy4xZFideNM21n2XRJeF_YknM6ki7wSpWPkDFaaLWHp0wwZL9H61XTJ1gY6eFnW-/s640/blogger-image-239355071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_swqMHc_GLoCDJIM0LNSTMznnyvZSdj4ij8A1f26UJT5WJBHEiK-1DXzxFGV4RNmQyUuV1N1nCtK-cy4xZFideNM21n2XRJeF_YknM6ki7wSpWPkDFaaLWHp0wwZL9H61XTJ1gY6eFnW-/s400/blogger-image-239355071.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking of boy bands, we decided that the guys who joined us were forming one...</td></tr>
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They don't sing. You don't want them to dance. But boy do they look like an international sensation! We had Korea, America, and American Samoa represented. And they were seriously posing like they needed to be put on a poster somewhere.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge76lAjQjdLp99_XZ0WjYLLLwfgbNrAA4-j51bLq7xB-mPuLCZS-ttnySYoafxknpbnmiUq29OgQVzS9gOJ6N6nYKEWCCLSqBYFKrym3aZyFzej0dTt0Tu0_jvH0-LxIyKRL6RW5F436NO/s640/blogger-image-1399410317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge76lAjQjdLp99_XZ0WjYLLLwfgbNrAA4-j51bLq7xB-mPuLCZS-ttnySYoafxknpbnmiUq29OgQVzS9gOJ6N6nYKEWCCLSqBYFKrym3aZyFzej0dTt0Tu0_jvH0-LxIyKRL6RW5F436NO/s400/blogger-image-1399410317.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And they snuck in a group photo with Santa as well.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On the way home, Sweet Baboo mentioned to me that he didn't want that to be the last we saw of Ae Jin. In fact, since we weren't able to get <i>everything</i> off of her very short Christmas list, he wants to keep searching for the other books and take them to her (one per month) so we can develop a relationship. The girls excitedly agreed.<br />
<br />
The following day, I bumped into one of the Soldiers who also attended the lunch with us. He said that some of the guys in the barracks saw the framed photo that we got to take home, and were bummed that they didn't get to go. They were asking if I could set up more time to go to the orphanage so they could give time and talent as well.<br />
<br />
The whole situation warmed my heart and made me feel like I am already making a difference here. First, I know that the Soldiers who are here without their families are going home to a very quiet room. They are missing the giggles (or cries) of their children, they lack the routine of having to provide by day and getting to participate in family life by night. Many of them spend their spare time drinking and partying; that just <i>has</i> to get old at some point... right?<br />
<br />
Some of the single Soldiers have approached me and asked if the FRG can include them, and my answer is "of course!" They have excitedly pointed out some service projects that they would love to participate in (serving food at the soup kitchen, handing out jackets to children in foster homes, gathering stuff for unwed mothers who have been ousted by their families, etc.). Their desire to serve this area beyond their call of duty in the uniform gets me all choked up and ready to hug each of them. I hear some in leadership positions complaining that these very Soldiers are lacking motivation and desire to do more than the bare minimum, I kind of wonder if living beyond the next "night out on the town" may be just what they need. I intend to find out!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-18043166948931562772015-12-17T09:08:00.000-06:002015-12-17T09:08:54.236-06:00TGBKA: It All Started on Day 3 in Korea...It was bound to happen. In fact, I know of a group of friends who were throwing down bets on how long it would take <i>before</i> it would happen. And to be honest, I kind of feel like I deserve that pot of dough because I even shocked <i>myself</i> when I accepted a volunteer leadership position less than a week after arriving in Korea. Here's how it all went down:<br />
<br />
Upon first entering Camp Casey, we were greeted with a bombardment of signage on post. Each one had lovely morsels of information about the goings on that would occur over the next couple of months. Not wanting to miss a single thing, I (slightly) annoyed Sweet Baboo as I took iPhone photographs of every sign that grabbed my attention. Then I hounded him for further information with every step deeper into the installation. I swear that at one point, he was about ready to do an about-face (turn around... for you non-military speaking folk out there) and send me back to the airport. But he did the best he could with what little energy he had for my unabating need to get involved with the local community. And then he introduced me to his immediate boss.<br />
<br />
Within the first five minutes of the conversation, I had produced my enthusiasm, my starry-eyed love for adventure, and my photographs of every. single. banner. and asked how we could make this happen. Sweet Baboo's boss, we'll call him Mr. Amused, got equally excited and told me that I had his full backing on anything I wanted to sign up for in the name of the office. Sweet Baboo groaned.<br />
<br />
It's not that Sweet Baboo <i>minds</i>, per se, that I get involved. It's that my need to be involved is so strong, my love of giving back to the community in which I live is so deep, my admiration of those who have a story to tell and are willing to take the time to tell it is so unwavering that I sometimes (read: every single time) get tunnel vision and forget that other things in life exist. Like eating. And sleeping. And, well... everything. Life's too short (if you ask me) to miss a single thing this world has to offer you, and I <i>only get 2 years</i> to experience <u>this</u> community. So I want to get started now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7N9gHpXNmWaEwKEgGSm4YaXaoeGOUebmz1giaT0ZyYd9ddrh0GToE1YvgaAm8g3lO9qPu46WITEVSxCufx9JR0WRLdPsFI5wtOS_hE2Qt00Poq8GdgdSRHwIAE8jjOA5nBdBwWW_0-lZ/s1600/12371195_10206909667814069_7539567879864133458_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7N9gHpXNmWaEwKEgGSm4YaXaoeGOUebmz1giaT0ZyYd9ddrh0GToE1YvgaAm8g3lO9qPu46WITEVSxCufx9JR0WRLdPsFI5wtOS_hE2Qt00Poq8GdgdSRHwIAE8jjOA5nBdBwWW_0-lZ/s400/12371195_10206909667814069_7539567879864133458_o.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These banners are the first thing you see when you walk on Camp Casey. And I was salivating when I saw the magazine they publish monthly!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The first thing on the agenda: Area 1 Christmas Tree Decoration Contest. Sweet Baboo and I had already discussed the <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/11/tgbka-its-electric-boogie-woogie-woogie.html" target="_blank">electricity situation</a> here, and I had packed enough Christmas lights to make Clark Griswold question my sanity. I didn't have a plan in mind just yet, but I wanted to figure out if Sweet Baboo's company had signed up, and if not could we do so? I asked Mr. Amused. He was disinterested until he read that the winner of the contest won $500 (goes to the unit funds) and Commander's Cup points (don't ask me... I don't pay much attention to those. But I do know that there are some Commanders out there who care.) Mr. Amused asked the CO of their company if we could sign up; a dope deal was made, and I was given the green light.<br />
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The next hurdle was to come up with a theme for the tree. I didn't bring any of our breakable ornaments from the States. I opted to have them go into storage. We usually have two trees: one "memory tree" with fragile ornaments that are chosen specifically based on the big things that happened that year, and one "medal tree" that holds all of the finisher's medals and winning medals from the entire family's athletic life. I left the "memory tree" behind, and only brought the medal tree and ornaments. And I didn't want to sacrifice our own tree at home in the name of setting up a tree at the post's club. So I decided to go with a theme. And this is what we came up with:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyBtgV6fJdCE1612_aHa4ELHRe-CS9IeyHfmML5kYMrmRNm3iAvVe3Uo4VwygGs6dkVbYu4gNkNV2CasiuFMlqqVNyEcUP_I-n7fXODZ74yns2HDlRj597V2IUWyLmpNGG-AHj5GVtQzv/s1600/IMG_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyBtgV6fJdCE1612_aHa4ELHRe-CS9IeyHfmML5kYMrmRNm3iAvVe3Uo4VwygGs6dkVbYu4gNkNV2CasiuFMlqqVNyEcUP_I-n7fXODZ74yns2HDlRj597V2IUWyLmpNGG-AHj5GVtQzv/s400/IMG_0626.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">General Frosty T. Snowman complete with snowflake lights on, around, and under the tree. (That's a Christmas light present down there, too!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwANb0Qvu_hF4AgP6aBfYTl4-x8HskN9iKACudRCwCLzWvI-ZlE_jkzsNOCfXcNq37rNp6cxR30uGV1RpoeI9aBS0jPSY2Ijyuunr-MNseROu9kL9E507Dv8DQhPyEhTveV9_9kVJK5SP/s1600/12362697_10206909990102126_8504277615045922799_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwANb0Qvu_hF4AgP6aBfYTl4-x8HskN9iKACudRCwCLzWvI-ZlE_jkzsNOCfXcNq37rNp6cxR30uGV1RpoeI9aBS0jPSY2Ijyuunr-MNseROu9kL9E507Dv8DQhPyEhTveV9_9kVJK5SP/s400/12362697_10206909990102126_8504277615045922799_o.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did my best to keep General Snowman from looking too creepy. I'll admit, his face haunts me. But check out his rank: he's a 1-Snowflake General!</td></tr>
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Did you know that Koreans (at least the ones I spoke with... and I spoke with a <i>lot</i>) do not know what <a href="http://www.trendytree.com/deco-poly-mesh-burlap-and-paper/orange-and-black-stripe-deco-poly-mesh-ribbon-21-netting.html" target="_blank">mesh ribbon</a> is? I searched over two dozen stores between here and Seoul and could not find a single employee who knew what the heck I was trying to purchase. So we went with lace. It didn't form as well as I had hoped, but it is what it is.<br />
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As soon as the CO met me, I mean <i>literally five minutes after meeting me</i>, he asked me to be his FRG Leader. Sweet Baboo was nowhere to be found (he was at his office, working). I was wandering the Company HQ, trying to get my NEO packet completed (more on that later), and he asked me to fill the position. When I hesitated, he asked the girls to talk me into it. So after discussing it with Sweet Baboo over dinner that night, we decided that I should absolutely take the honor that his CO offered me.<br />
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And in taking that role on, I took the (unspoken) permission from Sweet Baboo to find half a dozen more projects to get involved in. I found out about <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/12/tgbka-cultural-week.html" target="_blank">these two cultural events</a> because I was "in the know" now that I was an FRG Leader. And I had the full backing from the CO to get his company as involved as I wanted with the happenings on post. So I signed us up for four shifts of gift wrapping at the Camp Casey PX.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTvB8zB4GrHLB0lN2xgBvV8FuPrkK8mMhMB0InbqxcFY5SWH4RNvWnRHXcUMuEmu_kkgSh93MInQuUpmBBxo2DB-A_3Nvpm_WsGl_XsLUqHr5S135949GLlNqKrfqYeX5wwGVbpFaSTwW/s1600/12341378_10206905049458613_5521135565174186696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTvB8zB4GrHLB0lN2xgBvV8FuPrkK8mMhMB0InbqxcFY5SWH4RNvWnRHXcUMuEmu_kkgSh93MInQuUpmBBxo2DB-A_3Nvpm_WsGl_XsLUqHr5S135949GLlNqKrfqYeX5wwGVbpFaSTwW/s400/12341378_10206905049458613_5521135565174186696_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We take gift-wrapping quite seriously!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatG2iqvbKFYpm0pFaRjosc1FitIpxQCyQsNn9h3iqtDREfQHEA1DpnxaW4SjkUDCJ_bGZGpSlywin1y90TzSC9K_u9K24tFDl1T_WzRNWRSGfsyUsMIo4Obh2oY1DBvUF0gQ83PmTy9yL/s1600/IMG_0607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatG2iqvbKFYpm0pFaRjosc1FitIpxQCyQsNn9h3iqtDREfQHEA1DpnxaW4SjkUDCJ_bGZGpSlywin1y90TzSC9K_u9K24tFDl1T_WzRNWRSGfsyUsMIo4Obh2oY1DBvUF0gQ83PmTy9yL/s400/IMG_0607.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wouldn't you want these awesome elves to wrap your Christmas presents?</td></tr>
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This is a fundraiser for our FRG funds. In taking over, I was able to find out that the company didn't even have a bank account, let alone any funds for activities. So I needed to get us involved in earning some funds (until I make my way around post and ask the typical organizations to donate money to us).<br />
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I got on the battalion FRG Steering Committee. I found out about upcoming training exercises, official Korean holidays that would affect Sweet Baboo's schedule, and upcoming potlucks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDt5gWks_0ftluiqs2DJ_WlrPEQwj7yBaf64ulGR2J-eVkm06aU6_9BxgEWqBdAKwDHATXJa3StS6sT759vOAye8zbfgoTjotw4bntA61HXDAPBe2nCwWX6-EnvUGBT29EW3W7x0hTWMB/s1600/IMG_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDt5gWks_0ftluiqs2DJ_WlrPEQwj7yBaf64ulGR2J-eVkm06aU6_9BxgEWqBdAKwDHATXJa3StS6sT759vOAye8zbfgoTjotw4bntA61HXDAPBe2nCwWX6-EnvUGBT29EW3W7x0hTWMB/s400/IMG_0591.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There aren't many families here, but the ones who are happen to have adorable children!</td></tr>
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I joined the battalion Spring Ball Steering Committee, where I sit around with a bunch of higher ups (and a couple of awesome wives) and help to plan the spring ball! I'm super excited about this one!<br />
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I helped to decorate Sweet Baboo's office for their Christmas party. Again: way too many lights and an exponential electricity bill make for a poor Spunky Soul. So I shared the bounty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichc0Fwbn7xwAN2Sxk5XmXJ1AP-Dz3s6b_cBO3IM2-SvTzWl2Smi6rCRzRJktCJXzwHQY3Y9l7V8WviA2HbW20fK828iV1YxgYtfYEzaIgSojpdLRnYHv0gb8_vVT-3cx5upuh3QMkaOFA/s1600/12357147_10206910046703541_4670860330856736445_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichc0Fwbn7xwAN2Sxk5XmXJ1AP-Dz3s6b_cBO3IM2-SvTzWl2Smi6rCRzRJktCJXzwHQY3Y9l7V8WviA2HbW20fK828iV1YxgYtfYEzaIgSojpdLRnYHv0gb8_vVT-3cx5upuh3QMkaOFA/s400/12357147_10206910046703541_4670860330856736445_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This Christmas is brought to you by your Chain of Command. Keeping it festive!</td></tr>
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But the best project I have signed the unit up for so far is the Unit Adopt an Orphan event. It has seriously touched my heart. Any interested unit can sign up to treat a local orphan to an American Christmas dinner, and a night of entertainment (on post). The unit is expected to purchase their orphan a gift, and pay for the orphan's dinner the night of the event. In an effort to "break the ice", there is a "meet and greet" at the orphanage the week before. The girls and I attended the meet and greet, along with a Soldier from the unit, and a KATUSA (Korean Soldier who is attached to a US unit). The KATUSA was our translator.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabzfhve5e6fPESGsybju2XIRbk8-zd6ZHxojX1N6odPokZ20HIqxQeg2ophp_T1W5-XqcqG0N3MnHBtejYg8UNInur2Vr3uC70x9MNT4ZYNC2Ap2u947Yt9l4xUsTUTcET3qDrylIuQT8/s1600/IMG_0622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabzfhve5e6fPESGsybju2XIRbk8-zd6ZHxojX1N6odPokZ20HIqxQeg2ophp_T1W5-XqcqG0N3MnHBtejYg8UNInur2Vr3uC70x9MNT4ZYNC2Ap2u947Yt9l4xUsTUTcET3qDrylIuQT8/s400/IMG_0622.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group of volunteers who represented their units in the meet-and-greets!</td></tr>
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We went to Noah Rehabilitation Center. This particular orphanage specializes in taking in children who are disabled in some way. They say the children are rarely ever adopted, and some children never leave (even when they grow to be adults). <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIxM2zs7whdhkTPHDTjcDtat9aV-8aKlQDuijeoQ4x2p4DGc1lqsEqkllF3excwyiWQzUsDxUDR8V5STv960DLkCTZZsy8pU20CFaDZQ0V7y9CWg2rRF-wr3tgRIWJff3oVbVWAg9OKAm/s1600/12348156_10206905049818622_5497408048445085648_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIxM2zs7whdhkTPHDTjcDtat9aV-8aKlQDuijeoQ4x2p4DGc1lqsEqkllF3excwyiWQzUsDxUDR8V5STv960DLkCTZZsy8pU20CFaDZQ0V7y9CWg2rRF-wr3tgRIWJff3oVbVWAg9OKAm/s400/12348156_10206905049818622_5497408048445085648_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSftVbrxoATF6AnKsxWU68PpGUufOGdA_f1cyluuVW1Z0pVOp10Z6U0LJ0n3w0OnSlOoUi8uSCCEpir9S1KMtr0b3Qv0T0xzM3qpMPIwnMvrwJVOD9KAkLZZSYBbF_NQsdHmIUIFkNWHsU/s1600/12347586_10206905051418662_6214076570162128085_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSftVbrxoATF6AnKsxWU68PpGUufOGdA_f1cyluuVW1Z0pVOp10Z6U0LJ0n3w0OnSlOoUi8uSCCEpir9S1KMtr0b3Qv0T0xzM3qpMPIwnMvrwJVOD9KAkLZZSYBbF_NQsdHmIUIFkNWHsU/s400/12347586_10206905051418662_6214076570162128085_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Ae Jin! </td></tr>
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Ae Jin was very shy at first. I could tell that she wasn't quite comfortable with having five strangers sitting with her, asking her lots of questions. But after about ten minutes, (and one big hug from The Elder), she warmed up to us. Ae Jin is 20 years old, and we are told that she may never leave NRC. She loves to dance, and was even on the orphanage's competition team! They won Nationals last year, which is a very big deal for them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTieUY2GhRQ_j8hCFjbKJa02xasLHGOQglzWn3eFi3b3q0ySLbotKf8yYpqEbVbN3LDOjSc_dpN-SH4nyAf76iRz_LWgTIofKM9W9kwKNnsJg5gu3bX_JHBFMS6_aMrMyjYYzgxs8NjdRY/s1600/12373319_10206905052458688_7205424658984830948_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTieUY2GhRQ_j8hCFjbKJa02xasLHGOQglzWn3eFi3b3q0ySLbotKf8yYpqEbVbN3LDOjSc_dpN-SH4nyAf76iRz_LWgTIofKM9W9kwKNnsJg5gu3bX_JHBFMS6_aMrMyjYYzgxs8NjdRY/s400/12373319_10206905052458688_7205424658984830948_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am very glad that our KATUSA came with us. He was able to find out which band she liked best so we could shop for her Christmas presents!</td></tr>
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Ae Jin's only request for Christmas was a Korean comic book. I'm not sure of the name of the one she particularly wanted, but I took a photo of the cover:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6JHgNALB5Ik3DECrQU7EwgK4hcbnsgBsnPGMUvmo6_TVsoZ__4q7l3mqGG3JSmAXsg3MULFXcxQhbYfbDEhH6_BNKzFC7zdUY6U9qeS4KD2dlAuNfzXEIwoI9IQlm613S-lUcbjf8KVM/s1600/12391075_10206905050458638_992315051693945317_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6JHgNALB5Ik3DECrQU7EwgK4hcbnsgBsnPGMUvmo6_TVsoZ__4q7l3mqGG3JSmAXsg3MULFXcxQhbYfbDEhH6_BNKzFC7zdUY6U9qeS4KD2dlAuNfzXEIwoI9IQlm613S-lUcbjf8KVM/s400/12391075_10206905050458638_992315051693945317_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
She got very excited when she spoke of her love of reading this book. And it's a <i>book</i>. I had school books that were thinner than this thing! She has the first four books in the series, I'm hoping we raise enough money to get her the final six, though she has only asked for the 5th one.<br />
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Our time with her was short, but this visit was only supposed to be for us to break the ice. As we left, Ae Jin gave each of the girls several more hugs, and even gifted me with one! I was touched, and honored that she warmed up to us. She is a very sweet young lady, and I can only hope that she is as excited about Sunday as we are.<br />
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As we left, we snapped a few more photos of the orphanage, and headed back to the bus:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprJwhTrDvY9wlp6eKRdN9pUbNQ_Gts7NvZ2biOzuTh79Z2_vZFt9Hk-d6xGOcqCtf4jlzngCZle_pMpkHdZHM3TOMYrIiwAEyd8yF-nrnL2u9WPu5dN5INvX5iZhalii7xdj0QzpGIGFS/s1600/11205072_10206905052258683_6460102266417033103_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprJwhTrDvY9wlp6eKRdN9pUbNQ_Gts7NvZ2biOzuTh79Z2_vZFt9Hk-d6xGOcqCtf4jlzngCZle_pMpkHdZHM3TOMYrIiwAEyd8yF-nrnL2u9WPu5dN5INvX5iZhalii7xdj0QzpGIGFS/s400/11205072_10206905052258683_6460102266417033103_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dogs in the woods right next to the orphanage!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9mixSaTsr7AJDbrIvSz4FDwEwvnavCZ07h5mSmAHhp-pN5aDCY3rtOVH1NJRHaHaIMeE7Vf-PKCw3_0EpOY9LrX-bGV6gdbf7VtlYOXabchKIjNPvaF43eby3Dnw-QD127vbrJSH9SaEz/s1600/12360345_10206905051618667_8996585520836183325_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9mixSaTsr7AJDbrIvSz4FDwEwvnavCZ07h5mSmAHhp-pN5aDCY3rtOVH1NJRHaHaIMeE7Vf-PKCw3_0EpOY9LrX-bGV6gdbf7VtlYOXabchKIjNPvaF43eby3Dnw-QD127vbrJSH9SaEz/s400/12360345_10206905051618667_8996585520836183325_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls and me with our KATUSA. He was a wonderful help!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CrCtzeQoh5WwEcxoExT4yikDrnTRS6BZ1xeq5GuOIEtYzQ0kUP1yujoXtBsX1_D2-PCkp-aSaMUJ9vCBitq05ZwnM5ItOLvBnTOO8cPtP-9hJlWCJkJL0eyLSl1vzqyVtsLcT9kB-Zyx/s1600/10338276_10206905049938625_4638852744441609576_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CrCtzeQoh5WwEcxoExT4yikDrnTRS6BZ1xeq5GuOIEtYzQ0kUP1yujoXtBsX1_D2-PCkp-aSaMUJ9vCBitq05ZwnM5ItOLvBnTOO8cPtP-9hJlWCJkJL0eyLSl1vzqyVtsLcT9kB-Zyx/s400/10338276_10206905049938625_4638852744441609576_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was really taken after we got off of the bus and headed to the orphanage. We basically had to hike a mountain to get there. Not really. But it was really steep.</td></tr>
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So that's it so far! Today was our 1-month anniversary on Pen, and I'm not slowing down any. Though I guess I should stop long enough to finish my Christmas shopping. More importantly, I hope to have a million photos of the actual Christmas dinner with Ae Jin to share this weekend!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-11183332445709238392015-12-16T09:04:00.000-06:002015-12-16T09:04:30.337-06:00TGBKA: A Cultural WeekOn my 32nd birthday, Sweet Baboo had some business to tend to in our Nation's Capital. His parents offered to watch our darling children for the week so I could join him, and I was able to enjoy a (relatively) cheap trip to DC with little stress. Prior to and during that trip, protestors from the international movement <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupy_Wall_Street" target="_blank">Occupy Wall Street</a> had taken up residence in the areas I had planned to explore while Sweet Baboo was at work; as a result, I was given strict orders to "avoid infiltrating, questioning, occupying, photographing, or otherwise acknowledging the existence of" those involved with the movement. Basically, all fun was taken away from me.<br />
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On one particular night, Sweet Baboo knew that he would be working exceptionally later than normal, and I told him that I had plans to "get lost via the subway, explore more, and eventually find my way back to the hotel". I'm an adventurous girl, and I'm a resourceful girl. Sweet Baboo knows that I'll honor his requests, and he generally has very few. On this particular night he had two: continue to leave the Occupy protestors alone (that struggle was real!) and be back on the subway (and know where I was supposed to be going) before the sun kissed the horizon. I was only successful at one of those directives; I got sidetracked at the Capitol Building.<br />
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I was walking toward the nearest subway entrance, I swear! But suddenly, I heard the most heavenly music coming from a few blocks away. My curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to beg for forgiveness as I followed the lovely melodies. By the time I found the source of the songs, I realized that I was watching Army Soldiers in dress uniform playing music for a crowd on the lawn of the Capitol Building. I stood on the outside of the fence staring, freezing, wishing I could find a way to be one of the insiders who got to sit on the lawn and listen. There was no real difference between my geographical location and theirs other than the fact that I had to view the scene with a big gate in the way. I looked around and saw a police officer who told me how to get access to the lawn: clear security. No special invitation needed!<br />
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It. Was. Magnificent! I was moved to tears, I was dancing in my seat, I was doing more than listening to the music... I was <i>experiencing</i> it! And as I begged for forgiveness from Sweet Baboo for disrespecting his simple wishes that evening, I also begged one more thing from him: every year for my birthday, I wanted to seek out the closest Army Band holiday concert and attend it. So we have. And every year around my birthday I am moved to tears, and I dance in my seat, and I laugh heartily because the emotions I experience when listening to Christmas music coming from their instruments cannot be contained.<br />
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This year, for my 35th birthday, we were treated to an exceptionally special treat: the 8th Army Band played alongside the ROKA Band (Republic of Korea's Army Band). They played traditional American Christmas music, and they played traditional Korean dance music. They had some music that was all instrumental, and other songs that had the most amazing vocals to accompany the instruments. There was one point where I had tears streaming down my face, but I was dancing in my seat and laughing out loud. My sweet children didn't know what to do... but Sweet Baboo beamed as he realized that he had absolutely <i>made</i> my birthday a special one by ensuring we attend this amazing event.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmy6ZQjmTe3gizgnNLhteWUZTCcQqTxKaNDmUXlCo3svkAmfjHMiHiQc6U_Tkwk7tgtnzXsrIwkmFCFBOqCI__lAIE8W1ejjl3YVP9-t3sUJ3Aulw1NpNBu_4U75ynhFVh4-8avS-lZHU/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmy6ZQjmTe3gizgnNLhteWUZTCcQqTxKaNDmUXlCo3svkAmfjHMiHiQc6U_Tkwk7tgtnzXsrIwkmFCFBOqCI__lAIE8W1ejjl3YVP9-t3sUJ3Aulw1NpNBu_4U75ynhFVh4-8avS-lZHU/s400/3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This concert was free for those who attended, and we got some amazing seats!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCBo62a-VkQLNVRGe4RNKhpzaJZKyvbPSVteR-BOQWKqgLjRXFGaZtGqQ9lbydSwQYktImlvK12XI5zWwGFv1iCQj6eiuGLiRoNmMrlsjpfV_OHO818YQ39C36e_S-OgtrQrN79lrRYjG/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCBo62a-VkQLNVRGe4RNKhpzaJZKyvbPSVteR-BOQWKqgLjRXFGaZtGqQ9lbydSwQYktImlvK12XI5zWwGFv1iCQj6eiuGLiRoNmMrlsjpfV_OHO818YQ39C36e_S-OgtrQrN79lrRYjG/s400/1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every year that I get to spend with this amazing man is a great year for me!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7Y4IFi1UuAOwZX3_C_KK6tYV3xKDAwrrlDNZ0n4dcvwh3j1Fk2WSD96VwGnKsALHFO45YjRIdQtMM17fmA4e4P-9BWvemYbhHwCZl6lXY2X2C6-SdkBXCeDDZYQ-AdBHjcCj1BgPF8X2/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7Y4IFi1UuAOwZX3_C_KK6tYV3xKDAwrrlDNZ0n4dcvwh3j1Fk2WSD96VwGnKsALHFO45YjRIdQtMM17fmA4e4P-9BWvemYbhHwCZl6lXY2X2C6-SdkBXCeDDZYQ-AdBHjcCj1BgPF8X2/s400/2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet Elder, who loved every minute of the concert as well!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXj_I1VSTsf0nCuhoIsJX0a4kpx7U3x1E5InXAIBTZiiaTnRYB-ff7BcHJHq5yrgHaKIDp71ZRALSitFNHGHdc1SICBPYpcYIfjQUu-HrqQ-7xGmASp6BIBHhmNDvaLemwwFpXj9f4CTNr/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXj_I1VSTsf0nCuhoIsJX0a4kpx7U3x1E5InXAIBTZiiaTnRYB-ff7BcHJHq5yrgHaKIDp71ZRALSitFNHGHdc1SICBPYpcYIfjQUu-HrqQ-7xGmASp6BIBHhmNDvaLemwwFpXj9f4CTNr/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was pretty bashful about photographing and videoing the performance until I saw the CSM behind me using her iPad to take videos. Then it was game-on!</td></tr>
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After the 8th Army Band and the ROKA Band finished their set, we were treated to a performance by the Uijeongbu City Children's Choir. They were fantastic!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2_oCUhocrAPe0tPzEqEp8R6e9sC0gnng4swX4L-fL1AnimAz7Ugacmvqe00jWsofbSERRho6pqV1KPoMxp1GjVkWNDRGmj6UDIz0_ta9758jUHbQ2oaiLKSSGQC1AexOwzARoa6SQqn4/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2_oCUhocrAPe0tPzEqEp8R6e9sC0gnng4swX4L-fL1AnimAz7Ugacmvqe00jWsofbSERRho6pqV1KPoMxp1GjVkWNDRGmj6UDIz0_ta9758jUHbQ2oaiLKSSGQC1AexOwzARoa6SQqn4/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They performed very old timey American songs like "Sugartime". The choreography was just as cute as their costumes (which you can't really appreciate in this photo).</td></tr>
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Finally we got to see a performance by Son Sonnet, a Korean pop star. She sang a cover of Whitney Houston's "I Have Nothing", and was on point in her performance. She sang other songs as well, and I was again moved to tears. I have some of her songs in my wish list on iTunes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezsTRO8AlIOKfHiQCUItduj7ilfuMgXP0uzN3FkB-BF-qqJILZHN7tOPE9UdAmA6JmcZuuYqNNE-AVAsUWwfruye_0tXQrJ5iipCBFdEoyN-BBr3xDYBiyDwAMxwXskE0hb3kSDqxNBPp/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezsTRO8AlIOKfHiQCUItduj7ilfuMgXP0uzN3FkB-BF-qqJILZHN7tOPE9UdAmA6JmcZuuYqNNE-AVAsUWwfruye_0tXQrJ5iipCBFdEoyN-BBr3xDYBiyDwAMxwXskE0hb3kSDqxNBPp/s400/6.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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As an encore, Son Sonnet came back on stage with the 8th Army Band and the ROKA Band and together they performed "Let It Go" from Disney's Frozen. Sweet Baboo leaned over to me at one point and said, "You know a song has become the anthem to an <i>entire</i> generation when a Korean pop star is capable of getting Soldiers from two armies to sing along with her. Especially when that song comes from a Disney movie!" It was true, too. She stopped singing into the mic at one point, looked out to the audience, and <i>every Soldier that I could see was singing along!</i> Some were even <b>shouting</b> along at the top of their lungs. It was amazing!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi87NuPL8vvlFWJFk5YJgmXG88Ojmh28_-DXKTfoBjZUyrfiiLhLXAvnxeL4UGObvitQOBIKlgsFNqrSQ7RyEqwTd9JcV6RgpzwPelhxrYE5QlrndYYSKJjnNp3g2QCCck_9OcLAYZmMwNl/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi87NuPL8vvlFWJFk5YJgmXG88Ojmh28_-DXKTfoBjZUyrfiiLhLXAvnxeL4UGObvitQOBIKlgsFNqrSQ7RyEqwTd9JcV6RgpzwPelhxrYE5QlrndYYSKJjnNp3g2QCCck_9OcLAYZmMwNl/s400/7.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Its rare to get the four of us in the same photo. This was the perfect end to a wonderful birthday... or so I thought!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5EMepRdsM4DmxYYiCaggpL3lhyDT6otdQzWgzIAQoj38lIMXFrougF_mKN1NVGrA4-nLa1AQGU-G7m2B12cBF4SyPNsUSrcA1R68OiDUXrqyGQAt6vW5CuNE5eU-MB-_6cPC38gSXfX6/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5EMepRdsM4DmxYYiCaggpL3lhyDT6otdQzWgzIAQoj38lIMXFrougF_mKN1NVGrA4-nLa1AQGU-G7m2B12cBF4SyPNsUSrcA1R68OiDUXrqyGQAt6vW5CuNE5eU-MB-_6cPC38gSXfX6/s400/8.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are many cultural differences between the US Army and the ROK Army. But they both have women in their ranks, and this particular Soldier was a badass. I had to ask her for a selfie with me. She was more than happy to oblige!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfpCOdOCENS7Qbz-CguAxmKEEC4117aQLYTV_ZmmhYNPu7SVJctVFrpnKZhUcEJCuXZ_IwMgQrxkbCSlcl65htYuQOwj_7rd8pmqma5O5UxhtAefURvPK5Kal27q4BFcaBIQdyrrxEhCo/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfpCOdOCENS7Qbz-CguAxmKEEC4117aQLYTV_ZmmhYNPu7SVJctVFrpnKZhUcEJCuXZ_IwMgQrxkbCSlcl65htYuQOwj_7rd8pmqma5O5UxhtAefURvPK5Kal27q4BFcaBIQdyrrxEhCo/s400/9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't get a selfie with The Wee in the concert hall, so we opted to get one with Frosty.</td></tr>
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I didn't think the week could get any better. But then we woke up the next day to prove me wrong. After spending a morning doing some school work, we put the books away and headed to <a href="http://www.shinsegae.co.kr/english/services/biz_part/distribute_biz_1.asp" target="_blank">Shinsegae Department Store</a> to participate in Uijeongbu's Culture and Book Festival. We had to rsvp to this event so we could have seats, and had no idea of what to expect. It was humbling, encouraging, and motivating at the same time!<br />
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When we arrived, we were handed headsets because the entire festival was to be in Korean. Not all of the festival was going to be translated for us, but the two speakers would have translators so we could know what was being said. This made me think of all of the times I have heard people in America say "You're in America, speak English!" I was grateful that the Koreans haven't taken that stance with us, but have gone out of their way to accommodate us and ensure we are able to enjoy the festivities as well.<br />
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The festival was basically performances on a stage as the audience sat in theater-style seats. The first act was musical, and the girls and I enjoyed listening to more live music. None of us recognized the tunes, but that didn't stop us from wanting to dance in the aisles. Then, the band leader stood up and asked (in Korean) if any children wanted to come on stage to try out the instruments. A wonderful woman sitting next to me (who happens to work on post) translated the man's question to us and the girls excitedly volunteered. They were the first on stage, but started a long line of excited kids who wanted to "blow that horn".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpUWJ0ua984bnmQyvk7ox7zYU0vlG7EtpVbYz08CcR9p5x_tQM4MBYtNi4pQPxJZglTy0RIYpwWEueknF_0Hc4aDKNCiRgTVLI7eYJw8UMbhE_PyQ4dqBOAJZhMObF-Q2mUfUzoPGf8rq/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpUWJ0ua984bnmQyvk7ox7zYU0vlG7EtpVbYz08CcR9p5x_tQM4MBYtNi4pQPxJZglTy0RIYpwWEueknF_0Hc4aDKNCiRgTVLI7eYJw8UMbhE_PyQ4dqBOAJZhMObF-Q2mUfUzoPGf8rq/s400/16.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stage wasn't huge, but the performances on it were fantastic!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qi0IDqQe67C_mDViVlWfaCDFEZe-JVpj926TLLdEJh3qba8IyN89C_XSwtSimnhDdjF7apfEQXhYR0X1bBw-T1knXeNuMT6sw7Y4D4ho1l-_Zy3QaU4btke9zEqqbsQt3JGdSu6sdaNH/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qi0IDqQe67C_mDViVlWfaCDFEZe-JVpj926TLLdEJh3qba8IyN89C_XSwtSimnhDdjF7apfEQXhYR0X1bBw-T1knXeNuMT6sw7Y4D4ho1l-_Zy3QaU4btke9zEqqbsQt3JGdSu6sdaNH/s400/10.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls were excited to try out the instruments!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVSivwlMGmlfLntKQ33FAOqn4u7D4_1txYQeyqSmV2GJyBL_0IsYzzYIFIC2oddH41maGD29Wok3KZNbpVRU-_Y-d3d9KV-lqsCDOwIeLqnv46mD7JjA7jL4ov31PplHNGDcDWqicQiJt/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVSivwlMGmlfLntKQ33FAOqn4u7D4_1txYQeyqSmV2GJyBL_0IsYzzYIFIC2oddH41maGD29Wok3KZNbpVRU-_Y-d3d9KV-lqsCDOwIeLqnv46mD7JjA7jL4ov31PplHNGDcDWqicQiJt/s400/11.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Usually The Wee is very bashful with strangers, but she overcame her nerves and tried to understand the musician!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhr42zM03FcHwVH1iMPmlxjxHsjhIiG8BeDMaoAYVft9xD-dQWaGkJDiq5UaWJYDSj492WJhb7W143ZSHLFTArvwWd68YwH_HFIslL_AEeXg9jOlV-RGZKOQdfTUeGN4VKKE-tnMT5o8c/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhr42zM03FcHwVH1iMPmlxjxHsjhIiG8BeDMaoAYVft9xD-dQWaGkJDiq5UaWJYDSj492WJhb7W143ZSHLFTArvwWd68YwH_HFIslL_AEeXg9jOlV-RGZKOQdfTUeGN4VKKE-tnMT5o8c/s400/12.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course, he was giving instructions in Korean so there was a language barrier...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH25vXEYE3ZjJ2VG_8NiYEH2KM-3ui4ANIwePF5eWTcA-zDHf_tt8EmK5JjPyD0b2g_fk7J6bRRlIui2CU9if6Mo0HOPVyw2zxknejvyQy_le0FE77YQj-8ZpPblspitNQRYyma-1VPMr5/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH25vXEYE3ZjJ2VG_8NiYEH2KM-3ui4ANIwePF5eWTcA-zDHf_tt8EmK5JjPyD0b2g_fk7J6bRRlIui2CU9if6Mo0HOPVyw2zxknejvyQy_le0FE77YQj-8ZpPblspitNQRYyma-1VPMr5/s400/13.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But in the end they figured things out!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCnwJLKWawDX2no-YU2mjQ0FFyqsSvlParO5OmENWigtkNsx0hdVRDZTAsbcGb66z7uc3IY8ytGdmU8ZErXp2NGyMiBz8c1upkPA1ftq5d7z-r3toWBwnRKW9lC-aBB9kAt1OSq0cMbga/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCnwJLKWawDX2no-YU2mjQ0FFyqsSvlParO5OmENWigtkNsx0hdVRDZTAsbcGb66z7uc3IY8ytGdmU8ZErXp2NGyMiBz8c1upkPA1ftq5d7z-r3toWBwnRKW9lC-aBB9kAt1OSq0cMbga/s400/14.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Elder took to the trombone like a fish to water. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6mZsZZYlOfzt2DnTIDG_HnCF3T7dZY1NPgF6KOqlWnd-6YC7ELZnXuCUenQjbqDH04WEdvViVC_9DkOPg4KbXdpBrSMMcBmfH-kYCUJy6l_phP3Yy9voftA0w6gLyMUJAFLaG7C-5AW6u/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6mZsZZYlOfzt2DnTIDG_HnCF3T7dZY1NPgF6KOqlWnd-6YC7ELZnXuCUenQjbqDH04WEdvViVC_9DkOPg4KbXdpBrSMMcBmfH-kYCUJy6l_phP3Yy9voftA0w6gLyMUJAFLaG7C-5AW6u/s400/15.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She loved trying it out, but didn't ask if she could do it more... at home... in our apartment complex... (thank you, Lord!)</td></tr>
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After the musical part of the festival was over, a guest speaker took to the stage to talk about his expertise: translating American movies to Korean. He is the only person in South Korea who performs this job, and he takes it quite seriously. His movies include Shrek and Saving Private Ryan (along with literally thousands of others). He talked about how he chooses which movies to translate, and the difficulties he sometimes has with translating English idioms into Korean sayings that make sense, but are equally enticing. I found his talk fascinating; the girls were (understandably) bored. But they endured!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGAiBv9mWouaDxSm3S-1lVmW30j7qprjl-NhH_yLOKRUYC6U-1pCvXkEqtjMSjhPX0xLgQuK-G3IP9xQXXnzcpsJBXWwzh7coSQqm8axgiXZENPWkQHRsBYdxI3Rsc2qk-FURDzs_Fw668/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGAiBv9mWouaDxSm3S-1lVmW30j7qprjl-NhH_yLOKRUYC6U-1pCvXkEqtjMSjhPX0xLgQuK-G3IP9xQXXnzcpsJBXWwzh7coSQqm8axgiXZENPWkQHRsBYdxI3Rsc2qk-FURDzs_Fw668/s400/17.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Book/Movie talk portion was fantastic!</td></tr>
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During the opening lines of his speech, the speaker took a few minutes to honor the American Armed Forces in Korea. He said that without American Soldiers, South Korea would not enjoy the freedoms they do today. Then he turned to the girls and me and asked the audience to thank us for a moment. They stopped what they were doing, put their things in their laps, and applauded us loudly and with excitement. The translation was lagging behind real-time events, so the girls and I didn't know what was happening at first. But then I heard what the speaker said (via the translation) and was humbled. He specifically said, "We have only one American family at this festival today, and I can see that they are happy to be here. Won't you take a moment to honor them as they support an American Soldier who works to keep us free?" I am still not sure I deserve the praise we received from the audience that day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRu6CbLZnkVkd4nZBrUv0PuETJXg3uD3iYhXuNn878dAxqQp8PKd9yRtbfdiCkGh6p60idBslyl4hpeJFbYuKhR5SrvdYaEYUoO1HNvMjZoJDcUkgyErI5D0rMh4RSV8YmIdYg6QNLhnlk/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRu6CbLZnkVkd4nZBrUv0PuETJXg3uD3iYhXuNn878dAxqQp8PKd9yRtbfdiCkGh6p60idBslyl4hpeJFbYuKhR5SrvdYaEYUoO1HNvMjZoJDcUkgyErI5D0rMh4RSV8YmIdYg6QNLhnlk/s400/18.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shortly after I took this photo, he gave an announcement for everybody to stop photographing/videoing his speech (including the media). It has something to do with his contracts, etc. etc. This is all I have of his portion.</td></tr>
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After the guest speaker finished, the Mayor of Uijeongbu sat in the seats right in front of us. He turned around and shook the girls' and my hands and welcomed us to Korea. He personally thanked us for supporting an American Soldier, and for being at the Culture Festival. Then he took the stage. In <i>his</i> opening remarks, he pointed us out (he came late to the festival, and I'm not sure he realized we were already pointed out) to the rest of the audience and asked that they offer us their "most sincere thanks" for being honored guests in Uijeongbu. The audience was more than happy to oblige once again, and the girls and I were humbled once again.<br />
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The mayor spoke of the importance of reading. He discussed how other cultures regarded reading so highly that they would wake at 1:00 am to get a head start on their reading. He said that he would not have been able to pursue his higher education (he has a Ph.D) had he not started his love of reading as a child. Then he offered encouragement to those who were "still looking for their love of reading": keep looking. You will one day find that love, and will not regret the time you spend reading. Then he sat in front of us again and shook our hands once more.<br />
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Finally, a dance group took to the stage to offer us some final entertainment. This was The Elder's favorite part, and at one point she literally danced in the aisles. It was glorious! I'll let the photos speak for themselves here:<br />
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At the end of the festival, the girls and I were asked if we wanted a photo on the stage. I loved the idea!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a great time!</td></tr>
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The media came to interview us, and ask how we liked the event. The girls were a little shy, but did excitedly say that they would love to come to another event if they planned it again. I was asked if we minded being the only American family in the audience and answered honestly: absolutely not! I thanked the organizers for taking the time to hire translators so we could understand the guest speaker and the Mayor, and thanked the Shinsegae General Manager for hosting the event. We left, but not without a couple more photos:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjztlXu_hA0ZnF7KV738tqppasxBOLpPfhn9JKNmC1x87FPuP0Ca_hS2ckXDtXysKvH_LBw9iZUiJKGRmd59x-t3fYss6HwDgC_qg0DRJwNtgDri19n-pox0w0pKxe49WbL_DylRFSct_kB/s1600/32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjztlXu_hA0ZnF7KV738tqppasxBOLpPfhn9JKNmC1x87FPuP0Ca_hS2ckXDtXysKvH_LBw9iZUiJKGRmd59x-t3fYss6HwDgC_qg0DRJwNtgDri19n-pox0w0pKxe49WbL_DylRFSct_kB/s400/32.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That is a Christmas tree made out of books!</td></tr>
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We took the train back to our local station and started to walk back to the apartment. We were happy, we were humbled, and we were honored to have received such a warm and genuine welcome from the city of Uijeongbu. My goodness, our adventures absolutely ROK!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR9dEKYISxZ5iLMecK9w5lz5u6IB2E1IOvuZaBB07TfZyl-Xd884n4KFRS5mJlyc7vMyl6FHbI4eDwj7dMTDWk6DilibB3P26UP9wbx-LwORR5twZF12_m_dVGBgbM40bS2VQrNQ-x2Ro/s1600/36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR9dEKYISxZ5iLMecK9w5lz5u6IB2E1IOvuZaBB07TfZyl-Xd884n4KFRS5mJlyc7vMyl6FHbI4eDwj7dMTDWk6DilibB3P26UP9wbx-LwORR5twZF12_m_dVGBgbM40bS2VQrNQ-x2Ro/s400/36.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading back home, the girls love this sidewalk because they can follow the zig zags. </td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-47324893292735849552015-12-06T07:06:00.000-06:002015-12-06T07:08:17.569-06:00TGBKA: Camera Dump, Take 1: Our First Day HereHere I sit, not quite a month after getting here, and I am just now sorting through the photographs that I have on Lux, my camera. (For those who don't know... or have forgotten... my camera's name is Lux because that's Latin for "light"). As a professional photographer, I am slightly ashamed that I have so many to sort through; but such is life when you have so much going on. So this post will be short on words, but have some photographs from my trusty camera (rather than my iPhone) to show you what I see every day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfjyScOl9poituPGCEEZzm7fJamEtq95EY1rIKtje8b0hryT6r51u7LSk6dsKJQmPuUvQOMcUsQ3uLJNT4xv1jVgFFOgefk1t4tK5PDSSepppMXqzz2oOzpWuyNEzGd8KMCFGs_kulcCv/s1600/_MG_7323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfjyScOl9poituPGCEEZzm7fJamEtq95EY1rIKtje8b0hryT6r51u7LSk6dsKJQmPuUvQOMcUsQ3uLJNT4xv1jVgFFOgefk1t4tK5PDSSepppMXqzz2oOzpWuyNEzGd8KMCFGs_kulcCv/s400/_MG_7323.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our "Lounge". Our apartment's balcony is enclosed (with windows that open). We have turned that area into a sitting room where we sip wine/bourbon and talk about our day together. As we do so, we see this. </td></tr>
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You can actually see Camp Red Cloud in the above photo. In fact, I can see Sweet Baboo's office from The Lounge. A creepy wife would spy on her Sweet Baboo...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwiPbMOPu9IjgYFHIET2k-E5gfurJuCMDIJw6YWNfyZ-S1nAsy0fxpKqoipP2d0e0pVIKA20442Pt5R_RpOMnTByoaol7rxOM62LI0wlc7LSs2kK7tTG4L6hogtZw9AGlDdu-q9SUWF9a/s1600/_MG_7324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwiPbMOPu9IjgYFHIET2k-E5gfurJuCMDIJw6YWNfyZ-S1nAsy0fxpKqoipP2d0e0pVIKA20442Pt5R_RpOMnTByoaol7rxOM62LI0wlc7LSs2kK7tTG4L6hogtZw9AGlDdu-q9SUWF9a/s400/_MG_7324.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lounge's view from a different angle. I love the feel of city life, even though we are considered to be in the "bumpkin area" of Korea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3A2Dw1Q88vJtQEOF8YSLR3eI4DtvS9wrfyXKWEMTAxZhOiO9IFPoSj19vMwDquNgPc1kPUZqZS6Fnv8kbH4jGvER8pMWm93_uiKRtOFOMZp00NCtTkn06c3l6xxbGc_wWcrqqO5MiqUZ/s1600/_MG_7326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3A2Dw1Q88vJtQEOF8YSLR3eI4DtvS9wrfyXKWEMTAxZhOiO9IFPoSj19vMwDquNgPc1kPUZqZS6Fnv8kbH4jGvER8pMWm93_uiKRtOFOMZp00NCtTkn06c3l6xxbGc_wWcrqqO5MiqUZ/s400/_MG_7326.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo is literally fifty steps outside of our building. To my family's left is a group of restaurants and little marts that cater specifically to those of us who live in this complex.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhzRsQ0bdg2gL2AFbaGD3OjLrAwthUs9JIp6Xg1iv2un9Q7hFNT__AaX5u04OT_-9PMfGdeNeT17f4RFrlN5qQuvV_ke92nVb9OQ_wxz2eNqcxkeryOdtnhNh5kIb5bP1N75Frt3ESrIp/s1600/_MG_7327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhzRsQ0bdg2gL2AFbaGD3OjLrAwthUs9JIp6Xg1iv2un9Q7hFNT__AaX5u04OT_-9PMfGdeNeT17f4RFrlN5qQuvV_ke92nVb9OQ_wxz2eNqcxkeryOdtnhNh5kIb5bP1N75Frt3ESrIp/s400/_MG_7327.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are walking down the sidewalk next to the wall that separates our apartment complex from the city.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfGlexT0iJnMih-_nteiCn7vnvH8rb3TPsDbCuTNrghKHckGrX8FlM_QSmT4qoZ3Vb7cyw1FToS8tKT9Ra19J-AisTQ72ch8eLGtsRodaL7F91Hdr5BrHfHLeJGirWZ5ZrBrHdZDnaIQv/s1600/_MG_7329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfGlexT0iJnMih-_nteiCn7vnvH8rb3TPsDbCuTNrghKHckGrX8FlM_QSmT4qoZ3Vb7cyw1FToS8tKT9Ra19J-AisTQ72ch8eLGtsRodaL7F91Hdr5BrHfHLeJGirWZ5ZrBrHdZDnaIQv/s400/_MG_7329.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our way to Camp Red Cloud. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYUkTlZbOKe0T3Gf9yedxdZDsGmaduhpv3k54sFrTauyvpbiI9mKAgOFHya5vr0FFs5ue57GeE7AfWmdIXdGL1WBI4-KEuP6PPm3hvtfH0lCVLIu1hgyShyRk32Vtv0vm69MoY7ydZmr0/s1600/_MG_7331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYUkTlZbOKe0T3Gf9yedxdZDsGmaduhpv3k54sFrTauyvpbiI9mKAgOFHya5vr0FFs5ue57GeE7AfWmdIXdGL1WBI4-KEuP6PPm3hvtfH0lCVLIu1hgyShyRk32Vtv0vm69MoY7ydZmr0/s400/_MG_7331.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Camp Red Cloud. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwkdBtWw1OtHSLkgmOWdkoAOEyDlHDd3TsrjQDwFnbF65baUY6faSJh670Ru4DZBV4Jebt2Ut9nZ7QqYs6II35iHV_3Zpq0oV6ZNwjTzjccuLLfHN_e19DyEXXsRR8zpVOC9IowNWBSAm/s1600/_MG_7332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwkdBtWw1OtHSLkgmOWdkoAOEyDlHDd3TsrjQDwFnbF65baUY6faSJh670Ru4DZBV4Jebt2Ut9nZ7QqYs6II35iHV_3Zpq0oV6ZNwjTzjccuLLfHN_e19DyEXXsRR8zpVOC9IowNWBSAm/s400/_MG_7332.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I simply can't get that kid to take me seriously when I take photos. She is going to love the wedding slideshow I create for her!</td></tr>
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So that's it! I know it isn't much... but I was tired. I do have more, but I'm trying my best to keep it all organized. More to come!<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-16026473273283679952015-11-28T20:55:00.000-06:002015-11-28T21:01:26.064-06:00TGBKA: HAIL AND FAREWELLAh, the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hail_and_Farewell" target="_blank">Hail and Farewell</a>. Traditionally, this event is reserved for unit leadership positions. It is literally the event when a unit Hails the incoming Commander, and bids Farewell to the outgoing Commander. It is different than the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Change_of_command_(military)" target="_blank">Change of Command Ceremony</a>, which happens during the duty day. The Hail and Farewell is usually a Dining In event (no family members or outsiders are invited), but there are times when a Dining Out (where family members and other specific guests are welcome to join) is scheduled. The Department of the Army actually published a <a href="http://www.apd.army.mil/pdffiles/p600_60.pdf" target="_blank">Guide to Protocol and Etiquette for Official Entertainment</a>, which is something I'm just nerdy enough to find fascinating.<br />
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But there are times when a unit finds it necessary to have a Hail and Farewell for every Soldier that comes and goes. And that is where Sweet Baboo's office comes in. Every Soldier who comes into his office gets Hailed. Every Soldier who leaves honorably gets Farewelled. Then we eat, we drink, and we spend a lot of time laughing.<br />
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Being the new girl on the block, I didn't know the gentleman who was being Farewelled. But I know <i>of</i> him. I have heard his name many times; Sweet Baboo spoke of him often. And when the girls and I arrived in Korea, he was the Handy Helper who drove us home and helped us get situated after a long day of traveling. He is a good Soldier, and I'm sad that we won't get to see him much longer.<br />
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Here are a few of my favorite photos from the evening:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK3mBNJy2rNu-qlnDyo-uYRAG6BDqbDrtgARGeRGSYRG_C_qpqy2v825jjF7vQ38hfVKqVHqVwpFnlWoFg5NLwpmM7Rr07vhsIcYWlvL7ShNFLBdDRxN-KdaZSflbd8iQHYhh8wkPyotr/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK3mBNJy2rNu-qlnDyo-uYRAG6BDqbDrtgARGeRGSYRG_C_qpqy2v825jjF7vQ38hfVKqVHqVwpFnlWoFg5NLwpmM7Rr07vhsIcYWlvL7ShNFLBdDRxN-KdaZSflbd8iQHYhh8wkPyotr/s400/12.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a lot of eating, and even more drinking!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBwk7PMPlnql5bPW-MjIIqHG0R-BPTspGy9lrGmv7uQDqGAubBUeJOKaVot3Reu7u0UwwF7ce52EqMW6rnIiqTNodIpMF3FoOGsbxftG_k2kMFjl-zPTygjIgjppfh55FO-cEZ6C034JK/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBwk7PMPlnql5bPW-MjIIqHG0R-BPTspGy9lrGmv7uQDqGAubBUeJOKaVot3Reu7u0UwwF7ce52EqMW6rnIiqTNodIpMF3FoOGsbxftG_k2kMFjl-zPTygjIgjppfh55FO-cEZ6C034JK/s400/9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only about a third of us stayed behind at the restaurant to keep eating. The others went out for karaoke.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gA6qmJL7mxJ4S2rSwrLMNnoVDjbJrYfmsyObOS7q-EDc1-POPYm67xmKMEyzvKkfkLGzaZjfequ_o7XGWo8Wehqb1x3OsJogN1RR1avqSxcxC3zrA7rdWm5CG55mhRxLMfo7CUHc89Ag/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gA6qmJL7mxJ4S2rSwrLMNnoVDjbJrYfmsyObOS7q-EDc1-POPYm67xmKMEyzvKkfkLGzaZjfequ_o7XGWo8Wehqb1x3OsJogN1RR1avqSxcxC3zrA7rdWm5CG55mhRxLMfo7CUHc89Ag/s400/1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They mixed eggs with kimchi. We loved the result!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpT04ghh3U3MnpeN59NpwCE0B6tHoQ64kIjtBBQjzUKRTV9G7RJJDxqm6Twixx9vICsDVZqXoS_k5Z1h8s3OjkM1P1vEjMHJ4AzuwdsLlmaEIvFE5fGhoo5q4j6JcRxwuMNCPfFYbtsYw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpT04ghh3U3MnpeN59NpwCE0B6tHoQ64kIjtBBQjzUKRTV9G7RJJDxqm6Twixx9vICsDVZqXoS_k5Z1h8s3OjkM1P1vEjMHJ4AzuwdsLlmaEIvFE5fGhoo5q4j6JcRxwuMNCPfFYbtsYw/s400/2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The meat comes out raw and frozen. As with Angry Face, we are supposed to cook it ourselves.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwrwgj9Q7e_mH66EfWpVnJrW1RoElPUjriqNyEJ-Weav3QrHxMVyZ-Q3l4Z85bh_pc2InbmgcxVi4g49gYiuLQ_0hMqtMWGAaM92lW9o05tRERRRVcfS-O91k17IzqAqfbXmJMd6B1b1m/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwrwgj9Q7e_mH66EfWpVnJrW1RoElPUjriqNyEJ-Weav3QrHxMVyZ-Q3l4Z85bh_pc2InbmgcxVi4g49gYiuLQ_0hMqtMWGAaM92lW9o05tRERRRVcfS-O91k17IzqAqfbXmJMd6B1b1m/s400/3.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls love dining out so far! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf08ulOcrfJmQtGOLj1kU7Te7GrsV2maGS7qx_hYqwFpawiqWi0e_VjxOf8guXb4xHMI87cL_olyJ7efFUfna8Gak382d_W0rLVYhgXi0hD8a1kRD73H8iR6-TEYo6fyto6-CzuFviFRP/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf08ulOcrfJmQtGOLj1kU7Te7GrsV2maGS7qx_hYqwFpawiqWi0e_VjxOf8guXb4xHMI87cL_olyJ7efFUfna8Gak382d_W0rLVYhgXi0hD8a1kRD73H8iR6-TEYo6fyto6-CzuFviFRP/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob came over to teach us how to cook the meats. He works in Sweet Baboo's office.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwh3f3ZFPFA5efZN8lECItbB2gIN5GuzrPwUpmheN_EoqM8ZLWqg_CNZD18Ag5n_fiBwOm78GfWteOirbiwHG5SbaBgLyscRtWXJwb-r6-J5ZeMIO2YmtoqCmfw5o6R4evhjtdw8F_dsF/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwh3f3ZFPFA5efZN8lECItbB2gIN5GuzrPwUpmheN_EoqM8ZLWqg_CNZD18Ag5n_fiBwOm78GfWteOirbiwHG5SbaBgLyscRtWXJwb-r6-J5ZeMIO2YmtoqCmfw5o6R4evhjtdw8F_dsF/s400/5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But it didn't take long for The Elder to take over and cook an amazing meal for us!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lqg-vDC_EwlAWlJkEfwfr118KnU5W1DwtF01z_o_CeZ1tsjlqWqrSNKLEZlWW5q_cll31WJEYU5XRriSJXWhy-IeeyKOf3wXAk5iMVJNr_MNGflA4omeGca4omd7wVpMnI4YFsGXHLLG/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lqg-vDC_EwlAWlJkEfwfr118KnU5W1DwtF01z_o_CeZ1tsjlqWqrSNKLEZlWW5q_cll31WJEYU5XRriSJXWhy-IeeyKOf3wXAk5iMVJNr_MNGflA4omeGca4omd7wVpMnI4YFsGXHLLG/s400/6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm pretty sure I ate the lion's share of those eggs. It was truly a fight for the meat, though. The Elder did a fantastic job!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FwxtpO5LKYrrK_HJCxg5EDFlkG0MVNcXENCrpdFYP9_C8B65-g-JCDxBx7Fr1oxdjA4VuUOQMQyt5w6w1AGXVJdYCmmkEXfFmWzYjqF6AWdWQkSf1NRnslGhAq9Fg_mY-SY9ADjwL5fl/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FwxtpO5LKYrrK_HJCxg5EDFlkG0MVNcXENCrpdFYP9_C8B65-g-JCDxBx7Fr1oxdjA4VuUOQMQyt5w6w1AGXVJdYCmmkEXfFmWzYjqF6AWdWQkSf1NRnslGhAq9Fg_mY-SY9ADjwL5fl/s400/7.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the side dishes was chunks of tofu with kimchi. A local showed me how to layer them. I rather enjoyed the flavor!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQyrUQTJcDrfNYFt8U_S1Yl30kD7bEBq6KYnJ-8kAan4d56buEqFHWZjGJOl2bLUTeyt6j77nnBwCepmp2sfo2jiSmJZZw-U5hQ44q6JtTKlkXFwR2R-Fc3QYLdW2ubw7OL5XHKX9IweM/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQyrUQTJcDrfNYFt8U_S1Yl30kD7bEBq6KYnJ-8kAan4d56buEqFHWZjGJOl2bLUTeyt6j77nnBwCepmp2sfo2jiSmJZZw-U5hQ44q6JtTKlkXFwR2R-Fc3QYLdW2ubw7OL5XHKX9IweM/s400/8.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friends in Alabama would shake their heads if they say the beer I drank that night. It's no craft beer, that's for sure!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThhVffvih3qLeRgAZPA2I2edlIaZjC3uZT3G1U15XTFC-gaHA6EtVY7nEcc8BhGFWr19Bff32tLfxP07mcAiKrlNyYNu1JYxk-O-EfEd1bdrvg_2Zop_rtMmZK4ELUTvImlnLZHagDqpL/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThhVffvih3qLeRgAZPA2I2edlIaZjC3uZT3G1U15XTFC-gaHA6EtVY7nEcc8BhGFWr19Bff32tLfxP07mcAiKrlNyYNu1JYxk-O-EfEd1bdrvg_2Zop_rtMmZK4ELUTvImlnLZHagDqpL/s400/11.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things got pretty silly towards the end of the night...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYX2hZWZ2j9sHSsb06zC4-UEpJ0cMDBB9RBRa1ZbbBnrbPAoiKSwejviDPnN3zTAvhQZCdS_SxSK3V3FsBZGcB_W6fR3JCjLPtmZ6iJGXuHVWthSnlFMuQEZe7I0AOJnDj0qvWX1QKQ6R/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYX2hZWZ2j9sHSsb06zC4-UEpJ0cMDBB9RBRa1ZbbBnrbPAoiKSwejviDPnN3zTAvhQZCdS_SxSK3V3FsBZGcB_W6fR3JCjLPtmZ6iJGXuHVWthSnlFMuQEZe7I0AOJnDj0qvWX1QKQ6R/s400/10.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love participating in these events! They are a great way to let the hair down and enjoy each other outside of work.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIY0D4sAufZLKJZWKUzEz_-TaHVKm3H9PSnqKh0QYU4nBPSmskt4-AkNGMZdIwFzqz-0NrY0nL_IWRqDiuGl87nrr1DrG3219yNfEOegVyDxg1W8x11aeG4h3b5HPYTu8RIcAUJDmIkHmV/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIY0D4sAufZLKJZWKUzEz_-TaHVKm3H9PSnqKh0QYU4nBPSmskt4-AkNGMZdIwFzqz-0NrY0nL_IWRqDiuGl87nrr1DrG3219yNfEOegVyDxg1W8x11aeG4h3b5HPYTu8RIcAUJDmIkHmV/s400/13.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls have accepted one of the incoming Soldiers as one of their own. We quickly left one Korean BBQ restaurant to go to another one... right across the street. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg87xYSpuuEM9gysV0SAB-liWOhWxxLqYmyXhNnpnCnzbyhv8dSISXM_YishZNO6inAZKc1ad4WPrCm5mrqpZSwwO-H4AOwQ47wsVWC5EV2cu4dwTMSuNRPmtHAoGE5frYM272FVMO5v_g/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg87xYSpuuEM9gysV0SAB-liWOhWxxLqYmyXhNnpnCnzbyhv8dSISXM_YishZNO6inAZKc1ad4WPrCm5mrqpZSwwO-H4AOwQ47wsVWC5EV2cu4dwTMSuNRPmtHAoGE5frYM272FVMO5v_g/s400/14.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We went back to Angry Face!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispp9bOu9OLLPeEd_FAafIE6_kmgYlW82nbjeZLs46RTftOXnS3FWJwKiJW7l-5nF_LEcviZUTyXhKkz5lP_BVB88LC6DHp8Shmlzp5KWIhkzquPswvMaLG7pFZV1Ayn2ziukbmkbiLF-2/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispp9bOu9OLLPeEd_FAafIE6_kmgYlW82nbjeZLs46RTftOXnS3FWJwKiJW7l-5nF_LEcviZUTyXhKkz5lP_BVB88LC6DHp8Shmlzp5KWIhkzquPswvMaLG7pFZV1Ayn2ziukbmkbiLF-2/s400/15.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this time Sweet Baboo stayed long enough to eat the food. How romantic.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyFpiuQgIWisgv0q7BC8rvGWMQNSM-TdSBV7-opdX4LHhxGUEDPeKqDlWsERywn0c0AxwWoa3zBG2qUM0ltsBM9qZR5RMtix8r_GOgb3JFAcjknfnfaMu92UgfFlyO-4kaUTNeyGuHO5h/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyFpiuQgIWisgv0q7BC8rvGWMQNSM-TdSBV7-opdX4LHhxGUEDPeKqDlWsERywn0c0AxwWoa3zBG2qUM0ltsBM9qZR5RMtix8r_GOgb3JFAcjknfnfaMu92UgfFlyO-4kaUTNeyGuHO5h/s400/16.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These guys are pretty legit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1lDV9DtqXVnnX67jjYujysRy45apVRgBo2jC0PWCrc4ZsV50jSNgreaJZggmheEEpkNS-zDYpA2jI8qvIs0LsMnWuKsYDkMcSXpGIH8RMC8vXef6kvQQXZAuEFl9Tq6JrqPnIlzs8qls/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1lDV9DtqXVnnX67jjYujysRy45apVRgBo2jC0PWCrc4ZsV50jSNgreaJZggmheEEpkNS-zDYpA2jI8qvIs0LsMnWuKsYDkMcSXpGIH8RMC8vXef6kvQQXZAuEFl9Tq6JrqPnIlzs8qls/s400/17.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But these ladies rock my world!</td></tr>
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Remember, this event happened <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.kr/2015/11/tgbka-feeding-army-for-thanksgiving.html" target="_blank">the night before I cooked for an Army.</a> We got home, went to sleep, woke up, and got started on the big feast! What. A. Weekend!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-47959242254153234732015-11-28T07:54:00.000-06:002015-12-06T06:53:14.925-06:00TGBKA: FEEDING AN ARMY FOR THANKSGIVING!Ah, the holidays. In many duty stations single Soldiers go back to visit siblings and parents, feasting and cherishing the fleeting moments they share before duty calls again. Married Soldiers tend to either go home as well, or stay behind and enjoy the home they're making at their current duty station. Overseas is tougher. The trip home isn't a simple road trip; the flight isn't a couple of hundred dollars. When you're stationed overseas just being able to take head back home is rare, and if you're granted the opportunity the trip is very difficult, and very expensive. Every year, regardless of whether we are stationed CONUS (Continental United States) or OCONUS (Outside of the Continental United States), I plan a feast for the holidays and send Sweet Baboo in to the office in search of any Soldier who may potentially be sad and lonely.<br />
<br />
This year, Thanksgiving fell precisely 10 days after the girls and I arrived in Korea. As soon as Sweet Baboo and I were granted the Command Sponsorship, we did the math and realized we would be together for Thanksgiving. And then he realized that none of his Soldiers were planning to make the trip back to the States. And I realized that I would potentially be one of the only wives affiliated with his unit, so I couldn't get lazy this year.<br />
<br />
Our travels halfway around the world would be no excuse to not host dinner. Lack of cooking tools would be no excuse to skip the feast. Not knowing how to use Korean appliances would not be good enough to not use those appliances. I would have to step it up this year because I was going to be here this year. And if another Soldier were granted Command Sponsorship when Sweet Baboo was here without me, I would hope that his wife would do the very same thing.<br />
<br />
So I prepared for the feast weeks ago. When I separated our household goods, I set aside the things I <i>couldn't do without</i> on Thanksgiving to pack in our checked bags. I had things like carving knives, pink Himalayan salt, and my bamboo carving board checked so we would definitely have them. Then I put the items that I would <i>prefer to have</i> in our express shipment. I had things like my serving dishes, my roasting pan, my stoneware pie pans, and my recipe notebooks. The express shipment wasn't supposed to show up until the week before Christmas, but it showed up a month early and we rejoiced!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Cr9_7R6H2PMVbpjLt3bMpVyTYsVLiUWXkJfFovdfGTSD01zdRjpcPHiannBk3WDNQzfFF46kB5Gta2S5nG1uRg2NoHhurX3-fW-uUv7ySU5lfJdus-g_5ZGPOSStu3nnQrX7O8e8DBry/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Cr9_7R6H2PMVbpjLt3bMpVyTYsVLiUWXkJfFovdfGTSD01zdRjpcPHiannBk3WDNQzfFF46kB5Gta2S5nG1uRg2NoHhurX3-fW-uUv7ySU5lfJdus-g_5ZGPOSStu3nnQrX7O8e8DBry/s400/13.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first wave of Soldiers that showed up. Another half dozen showed up later, making our tiny apartment full of life!</td></tr>
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The first SNAFU (It's an old Army acronym. It stands for "Situation: Normal. All F*&#ed Up.") I came across was my cookware. Most of my normal stuff didn't fit. And I'm kind of set in my ways when it comes to my cookware. I make the same dish in the same piece every year. We have one of the biggest kitchens in our town (as far as apartments go), but coming from the glorious kitchen I had in Alabama this is itty bitty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMjrJqCN4LluQUR74Ln5zrLGJgC10zsqcMozjVXx2dtfL6jDefzCK5jQD032TRYA9o1sq8FySVTszdDmRsBB_KfKSIQg0IxxSnW3MXq6Z7OE9dRO-b4m8nSPWUfWKssmz3slYqHMrCiU8/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMjrJqCN4LluQUR74Ln5zrLGJgC10zsqcMozjVXx2dtfL6jDefzCK5jQD032TRYA9o1sq8FySVTszdDmRsBB_KfKSIQg0IxxSnW3MXq6Z7OE9dRO-b4m8nSPWUfWKssmz3slYqHMrCiU8/s400/10.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See my cute little kitchen? It looked bigger in the videos Sweet Baboo showed me when I was CONUS.</td></tr>
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The oven looks pretty decent-sized, right? Check this out!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dhnC-i4GH8Xp9jzGJbB_xRK60CZJ1vsB4-x4CjavApEwMhhzOPjb-xOf39FSd6vSqS_y3ozFPOSN_FB9NuPMlEex2XqA8pDXoyhvAmjl5uM21ldHAxBSqlHlwIGxMgGf8qlkaVCY3ts6/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dhnC-i4GH8Xp9jzGJbB_xRK60CZJ1vsB4-x4CjavApEwMhhzOPjb-xOf39FSd6vSqS_y3ozFPOSN_FB9NuPMlEex2XqA8pDXoyhvAmjl5uM21ldHAxBSqlHlwIGxMgGf8qlkaVCY3ts6/s400/18.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My super awesome <a href="https://www.pamperedchef.com/shop/Cookware/Cookware/Roasting+Pan+with+Rack/2872" target="_blank">Pampered Chef Roasting Pan</a> is too big.</td></tr>
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The roasting pan is too big?! How will we cook our turkey? With this monstrous thing we are able to pull our turkey out of the freezer and plop it right into the oven every year. Sweet Baboo has perfected his technique so the bird comes out tender and juicy every time. But if the pan won't even fit, how will the bird get cooked?!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnfSCt4CDyaHxDYCTqwbC5XwGIkB5e3P59aB2C9HSpDq_yzGpyxZH3FgalmKWbrQlqWiDXalUDMFVVsM6Fw6N3G97H23IDf044hyZuceE2j85oYQVhXULCVts1QgllMhgBSyrttQCb1SX/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnfSCt4CDyaHxDYCTqwbC5XwGIkB5e3P59aB2C9HSpDq_yzGpyxZH3FgalmKWbrQlqWiDXalUDMFVVsM6Fw6N3G97H23IDf044hyZuceE2j85oYQVhXULCVts1QgllMhgBSyrttQCb1SX/s400/17.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My <a href="https://www.pamperedchef.com/shop/Bakeware/Stoneware/Large+Bar+Pan/1445" target="_blank">Pampered Chef Large Bar Pan</a> didn't fit.</td></tr>
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This bad boy holds all of my yeast rolls. I have this amazing recipe that is nothing short of a labor of love, and when the time comes for those things to get cooked I stick a dozen and a half in at a time on this large bar pan. But it doesn't fit!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdUdj6No7vCD7hC3PqjZUGzAN2AMp5XxbfuyicUTjf42sEUSp_cyDlOuQkIIbFmJpbwHT7r9hVjqgeDd5EV8sXcQZsFXWy1jSSsNThYBd-20JbymrxOOjfsGvesAwOUUmLgnlQJ54mJYW/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdUdj6No7vCD7hC3PqjZUGzAN2AMp5XxbfuyicUTjf42sEUSp_cyDlOuQkIIbFmJpbwHT7r9hVjqgeDd5EV8sXcQZsFXWy1jSSsNThYBd-20JbymrxOOjfsGvesAwOUUmLgnlQJ54mJYW/s400/16.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My <a href="https://www.pamperedchef.com/shop/Bakeware/Stoneware/Rectangular+Baker/1430" target="_blank">Pampered Chef Rectangular Baker </a>didn't fit.</td></tr>
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Say hello to my green bean casserole holder. Now say goodbye because it doesn't fit in my oven. And at this point I'm about to start crying because my entire game plan for the meal is completely shot. It was bad enough that I was having to plan to cook each dish separately because of how small the oven was, but now almost a quarter of my recipes go into dishes that are too large to even fit in my oven!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodzYdbv3thzhyphenhyphenVA2oONKBh7e6WQfe-guk9LFy0LBMRYmcpAMJoS3d_QQoNQ0SGUTtzG1ZOh_pTcbGlhknQ3QkgvjtTwOmI0msBpN1B0Iw71qXdgzNgBgtZ3M7C_uNK-XvRoA6L3j1C_lK/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodzYdbv3thzhyphenhyphenVA2oONKBh7e6WQfe-guk9LFy0LBMRYmcpAMJoS3d_QQoNQ0SGUTtzG1ZOh_pTcbGlhknQ3QkgvjtTwOmI0msBpN1B0Iw71qXdgzNgBgtZ3M7C_uNK-XvRoA6L3j1C_lK/s400/15.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My <a href="https://www.pamperedchef.com/shop/Bakeware/Stoneware/Square+Baker/1339" target="_blank">Pampered Chef Square Baker </a>fits!</td></tr>
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~Sigh of relief~<br />
<br />
The dish I use for the second round of rolls fits. I usually have a large number of rolls go in for the first round, and that is generally enough for the first helping of food. But when everybody sits down to eat this little puppy goes in with about 10-12 rolls so there are warm rolls ready for round 2 of the feast. It's good enough to keep the rolls coming.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynw8JzAM5jsa5HNnFQQscRLbkXbJjz87pCV79teJTwBIGoSQjlQiZixCsKFFg9CL-hKFexA9ev-LiTPmyA2lzD1D9SUh9QHIU9X_3HCH1JufgURfbE7H_99y7Roth04FsZOoh6KiZts4i/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynw8JzAM5jsa5HNnFQQscRLbkXbJjz87pCV79teJTwBIGoSQjlQiZixCsKFFg9CL-hKFexA9ev-LiTPmyA2lzD1D9SUh9QHIU9X_3HCH1JufgURfbE7H_99y7Roth04FsZOoh6KiZts4i/s400/14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank goodness my Pampered Chef Stone Pie Pans fit!</td></tr>
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My apple pie and my pumpkin pie are anticipated in my home for weeks. When the costumes come off after a long night of trick-or-treating, my family starts salivating at the thought of my pies in the coming weeks. Sometimes I surprise them with "warm up" versions... just to knock the dust off the old recipes before the big day. But this year we didn't have time to do any dress rehearsal baking. With the big move, I had to get it right the first time and hope that my years of preparing the recipes would take over. Thankfully, my oven was large enough to handle the pie pans!<br />
<br />
So Sweet Baboo and I started discussing ways to overcome my oven's shortcomings. His fix: this year we do a ham on Thanksgiving. So we bought a ham. And it fit into my square baker. And the girls and I swallowed our sadness over the loss of having turkey.<br />
<br />
Three days went by and the girls and I discussed our feelings about the ham: we didn't like it. Not one bit. Ham is for Easter. Ham is for sandwiches... sliced thin with lots of cheese mixed in. Ham was not for Thanksgiving. When you do school crafts, you don't color a pig; you color a turkey. When retail establishments create artwork to signify Thanksgiving, they use a turkey not a pig. When the President of the United States <a href="http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/thanksgiving-2015-president-barack-obama-pardons-turkeys-white-house-ceremony-1530667" target="_blank">pardons an animal every year,</a> he doesn't pardon a pig... he pardons a turkey! So we started looking for other solutions.<br />
<br />
Then my sweet Mother in Law heard of our plight. I told her that the PX (Post Exchange) had a roaster for sale, but it was a bit out of our budget. She immediately sent the money so we could go get it. She literally saved Thanksgiving! But more on that in a bit.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">Edit: I forgot to tell you how our food made it from the Commissary to the house for us to cook! I'm pretty proud of this, so the fact that I forgot it is quite shocking to me. I shoved close to 80 pounds of Thanksgiving food (plus a few extra for our general consumption) into my ruck and hiked them back to our home. But I didn't take it straight home, we had a couple of other errands to hit up along the way. So I rucked the food for approximately 3.5 miles on hilly ground so I could feed the troops. We didn't have our car yet, and I wasn't going to let that get in the way, so I went old-fashioned... I walked it home! Again: I'm quite proud of this.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFrAFCTScsnRA23_RLUaIqpI3Z1gJBwockrE54i7rnSpBbqJYqlI_h7Byn3AkuET_p3yyQJaAloYMq7DtXbye7Jdq5-ppp7N34q538CWKucvLPwBxkWLFobIatshqNd-wHpoNULHjG8p_/s1600/12295334_10206848400842433_1954140862049100718_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFrAFCTScsnRA23_RLUaIqpI3Z1gJBwockrE54i7rnSpBbqJYqlI_h7Byn3AkuET_p3yyQJaAloYMq7DtXbye7Jdq5-ppp7N34q538CWKucvLPwBxkWLFobIatshqNd-wHpoNULHjG8p_/s400/12295334_10206848400842433_1954140862049100718_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't want to crush the precious cereal, so some things had to hang on the outside of the ruck.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXFgwkM5bDotqn9RXjo75kscuw2LaSK2fMiqC2xNm8t3ztk7dd7tTCNikh61wUK5CzXSb3VhlMOcDxyKAy_pgnmJb6q3BXw_dKg7M5sYXAaDsp6bEPcvSq5hv1G-q_ujVf53xzaUXXr9n/s1600/12345553_10206848400762431_5662804488166653256_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXFgwkM5bDotqn9RXjo75kscuw2LaSK2fMiqC2xNm8t3ztk7dd7tTCNikh61wUK5CzXSb3VhlMOcDxyKAy_pgnmJb6q3BXw_dKg7M5sYXAaDsp6bEPcvSq5hv1G-q_ujVf53xzaUXXr9n/s400/12345553_10206848400762431_5662804488166653256_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got an 18 pound turkey, 10 pounds of flour, 8 pounds of sugar, canned food, butter and lots more into this bag. And then I put it on my back and hauled it home!</td></tr>
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</span><br />
The day before Thanksgiving is Pie Making Day in our house. We clear the calendar of all things except for two things: make sure we have everything for the Big Feast, and <i>make the pies!</i> First on the docket was the pumpkin pie. This is where I hit my second SNAFU: no rolling pin. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and I'd have to agree. I improvised:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23Qc2ugDCY9VzVTW9grIUiREKgYO-oz3Yhyphenhyphen8rdnaH8PZEhIZHIda6cpfOOh76pfTVgWPgGOSs6IsCZRB9M2phj8HakPdtSNrrFXzlxIsDq2gkH3aVnmDZ1lfV0vG3rPUqCHin7LBfl710/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23Qc2ugDCY9VzVTW9grIUiREKgYO-oz3Yhyphenhyphen8rdnaH8PZEhIZHIda6cpfOOh76pfTVgWPgGOSs6IsCZRB9M2phj8HakPdtSNrrFXzlxIsDq2gkH3aVnmDZ1lfV0vG3rPUqCHin7LBfl710/s400/5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you forget to pack your rolling pin, slap some electrician's tape on the edge of your aluminum foil and use that!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTVnc1Vf6Kwsck80_Hr0QcHx8L1e-1mz22hvIeevhH6bElYZCctMB6jISZTq8iWIkiDmW4ufxcb8v1SnHqWDUGlIKNtQBhotIvoVRxzdtrHkg7U_W6f4dYkLQE2G94y3puZtu30ySQW9P/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTVnc1Vf6Kwsck80_Hr0QcHx8L1e-1mz22hvIeevhH6bElYZCctMB6jISZTq8iWIkiDmW4ufxcb8v1SnHqWDUGlIKNtQBhotIvoVRxzdtrHkg7U_W6f4dYkLQE2G94y3puZtu30ySQW9P/s400/1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crust was a bit thicker than I usually make, but it definitely did the trick!</td></tr>
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With the crust made, we mixed up the rest of the ingredients and tossed pie #1 in the oven. SNAFU #3 was pretty quickly solved: converting our Fahrenheit recipes to a Celsius oven. A quick Google search got us through that problem.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKykKhogfJJqqXO5OBL9l2-UTQFg_vAkEH2_UHgvd0r9tT0G7rOPf1axKDCqCn5WCgRNBoZjYksyVeyQpo_Kz49DltX2Haqe0KBMA5UIw3M-neaLgyYZwr7urP6Qxop-AqtqnjHLrInokr/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKykKhogfJJqqXO5OBL9l2-UTQFg_vAkEH2_UHgvd0r9tT0G7rOPf1axKDCqCn5WCgRNBoZjYksyVeyQpo_Kz49DltX2Haqe0KBMA5UIw3M-neaLgyYZwr7urP6Qxop-AqtqnjHLrInokr/s400/8.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful pumpkin pie that miraculously fits in our wee oven.</td></tr>
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<div>
This pie usually takes close to 90 minutes to bake (it's a deep-dish pie), so we got to prepping the apple pie filling next. But first, the girls love to squish the leftover dough and play with it while I get the area set up for pie #2.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-8wlMXYAOudpPniV3M7cjqHZsLh9KUSK1KtSUYpOar3SHrmJ2Vi3x_DyLWasKcXJpvZDTI306bk0F3QjbFgrrhU-_QUzvic7bi5Nh3u4cN9ChZ-WJthkjnKkOpgqoJHYSx4Kw3bJAwvS/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-8wlMXYAOudpPniV3M7cjqHZsLh9KUSK1KtSUYpOar3SHrmJ2Vi3x_DyLWasKcXJpvZDTI306bk0F3QjbFgrrhU-_QUzvic7bi5Nh3u4cN9ChZ-WJthkjnKkOpgqoJHYSx4Kw3bJAwvS/s400/3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They usually get cookie cutters and other fun "tools" to play with as well, but we're living simply without all of our household goods these days.</td></tr>
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The apple pie that I make is low on sugar, ridiculously full of apples, and very rustic. I don't peel the apples, I don't cut out the "ugly spots", and there may be times when I cut too close to the core and it makes it into the pie. It is what it is; I don't fuss too much over the look of the apples.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGKs1zd9-Ayeek3JlpRwVrYt2dLCrg8FdHjRwdoLphSkXRKQGcrP-RRdFscNXjw2b-9zens6DnaTb4f28m_vQmH0K3nwN_q24eZwgnK-P8tQak89JwmDhtq4zxfiMfgPqczyhhFWoNOl5/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGKs1zd9-Ayeek3JlpRwVrYt2dLCrg8FdHjRwdoLphSkXRKQGcrP-RRdFscNXjw2b-9zens6DnaTb4f28m_vQmH0K3nwN_q24eZwgnK-P8tQak89JwmDhtq4zxfiMfgPqczyhhFWoNOl5/s400/4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These apples be triflin'. (Get it? They're in a Trifle Bowl.)</td></tr>
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I don't normally let the apples sit in the Trifle Bowl for too long, but we had SNAFU #4 pop up: the oven doesn't work. After 90 minutes of "cooking", I grabbed the pumpkin pie out of the oven only to find it cool to the touch and very soupy. Ours is a gas stove; we have to turn on the gas via a pipe that runs from the apartment to the oven each time we want to use the stove. It doesn't stay on all of the time. I checked to make sure that didn't get closed off accidentally; it hadn't. I checked to make sure the oven knob didn't get turned off accidentally. It hadn't. So I relit the oven, set the timer for another thirty minutes, and went about my business.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglS_wxuFqzX4r_WIELCSw6VCnwWOIAD-i8zmDUpPvN088e1g8nm8D5D6R7CGzCjrH-bOM-E_2CgW-IQzVg4EAiZzZxd9dTrr7T4KXN_CZa4dVBEJQqsUOllQTOAHq831mfvkIwEdQMaHkA/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglS_wxuFqzX4r_WIELCSw6VCnwWOIAD-i8zmDUpPvN088e1g8nm8D5D6R7CGzCjrH-bOM-E_2CgW-IQzVg4EAiZzZxd9dTrr7T4KXN_CZa4dVBEJQqsUOllQTOAHq831mfvkIwEdQMaHkA/s400/7.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls enjoy watching Korean television because it's so different from what they're used to. But sometimes they enjoy the comfort that comes with computer games they know. PBS Kids is great!</td></tr>
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When the timer buzzed again, the pie looked a little more done, but it wasn't quite there. And the oven wasn't very hot. So I turned off the oven and relit it again. I put the timer on for another hour and figured my calculations for the temperature differences was a bit off. I started cleaning the apartment for the guests the next day.<br />
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Sweet Baboo called to tell me that the car had made it in country, and he was leaving work a little early to go pick it up. This was exciting because we weren't supposed to get it until 8 December, and the walks from the apartment to post were starting to get pretty cold in the morning for SB. He told me that there was a Hail and Farewell scheduled for dinner that evening, and asked if we wanted to go. I said that we would love to join, and hung up to go finish cleaning.<br />
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By the third time I went to pull the pumpkin pie, I had had enough with the dang pie! It had barely cooked any more than a hour prior, and I had already dumped 3 hours into that thing! Determined to figure this thing out I shut off the gas, turned it back on, relit the oven, and literally stood in my kitchen watching the oven to see what was happening. That was the longest five minutes of my life. The oven would light every time; but about five minutes later the fire would go out and the oven would cool off. I relit the oven right when the fire went out and the oven stayed lit for about three minutes before it would go out.<br />
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Frustrated, I texted our realtor to see if she could send a technician out to look into this problem for me. Our landlord does not speak English, and we do not speak Korean. Our realtor does more than just finds us an apartment and leaves us be until we need a new apartment. She acts as our translator for our landlord, she reads our Korean mail for us so we may know what they say, and she pays our bills for us (we obviously need to give her the won to do so) so we don't have to open a Korean bank account. Basically, she's amazing! I actually woke up one night fretting that she would have the need to change jobs one day while we were still living in Korea, and the thought freaked me out! That's how much we rely on her.<br />
<br />
She called me to tell me that a technician could come to the apartment at 10am the next morning. But we were planning for everybody to come over at noon to eat! So she called the technician back to see if he could do an after-hours call for us. He couldn't. He was already scheduled for two hours after normal business hours at other homes. But we weren't ready to give up just yet.<br />
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While Lucy was making calls, I was texting the two Soldiers that Sweet Baboo had introduced me to trying to figure out what to do next. Apparently, the barracks has ovens in their common areas. Granted, there is only one oven per building, but one of Sweet Baboo's Soldiers thought that we had enough Soldiers in the office who live in different buildings that we could probably make the cooking work on post if we needed to. That was a good backup plan. But then Lucy called back to tell me that they had a "loaner oven" that I could use until our apartment oven was fixed. I jumped on it! She texted me saying, "We're going to save Thanksgiving!" I was just as excited!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhBJPgvhFZziNctdvmyvFmYEI2EzSfwHFMD9k7OHCAReCDJfOebHNGP0lXMndkSCxGHT3M4kOLF5cWzOlsMf81b_zRiQ67iLrK_qAUi99E_eKoAhvfrBfxo6SL2DCVCdZGJpDW9OX44E5/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhBJPgvhFZziNctdvmyvFmYEI2EzSfwHFMD9k7OHCAReCDJfOebHNGP0lXMndkSCxGHT3M4kOLF5cWzOlsMf81b_zRiQ67iLrK_qAUi99E_eKoAhvfrBfxo6SL2DCVCdZGJpDW9OX44E5/s400/9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We quickly moved to Table-Top Cooking.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The loaner oven came in about an hour after we should have been at the <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.kr/2015/11/tgbka-hail-and-farewell.html" target="_blank">Hail and Farewell</a>, so we plopped it on the table and headed out to participate in this time-honored Army tradition (more on that later). We got home late (really, do H&Fs ever end early?) and went right to bed, vowing to get an early start the next morning.<br />
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The first thing that went into the loaner oven was the apple pie. The pumpkin pie was trashed because it never fully cooked, and there were 4 raw eggs in the batter. I didn't think I should greet Sweet Baboo's office with food poisoning on a plate, so we decided to err on the side of caution and trash it. SNAFU #5 slapped me right in the face: I didn't get any kind of manual for the convection oven, and there was nothing online. The oven is Korean, and I couldn't understand what half of the icons meant. I winged it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8ui0jXuxt-fySDYD712lpq5FWMfZknjg9qQutHgOzeEf-gtAk6f0lze0oegjnrs3Rk6hUFcLz4wf4GLJGllCCfgytLtkmzTckZoRXMmnpMbYvwf8hi_qQEXqw6hl8b8B6RZMYnwF-7bS/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8ui0jXuxt-fySDYD712lpq5FWMfZknjg9qQutHgOzeEf-gtAk6f0lze0oegjnrs3Rk6hUFcLz4wf4GLJGllCCfgytLtkmzTckZoRXMmnpMbYvwf8hi_qQEXqw6hl8b8B6RZMYnwF-7bS/s400/6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My glorious apple pie! The crust was a bit thicker than normal, but we still fight over slices!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With the first recipe successfully cooling off in the living room, I moved the next recipe (the ham) into the convection oven. Then I prepped the bird for the roaster and got that started.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdO2XBnowEiHlvY7uLOtc32rB7VQ7fG4oNrgREYzl2QAOuchn-GeLuy4_qa7b6LfviPr_VtbUHN7DHkDT8l_ReQ95l9ktNCGv_-HWsNldKOMvSXTL7ciP25CHNFh4IlFBxygowESI9ImZz/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdO2XBnowEiHlvY7uLOtc32rB7VQ7fG4oNrgREYzl2QAOuchn-GeLuy4_qa7b6LfviPr_VtbUHN7DHkDT8l_ReQ95l9ktNCGv_-HWsNldKOMvSXTL7ciP25CHNFh4IlFBxygowESI9ImZz/s400/12.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ham was still cooked and served at Thanksgiving. We didn't want the little pig to feel left out!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sweet Baboo was so excited to have a car in Korea that he volunteered to go pick up his Soldiers from post as I was cooking. They live a little over a mile away from our apartment, but I'm glad he went. One Soldier was severely hung over, and the other was still drunk from the Hail and Farewell. I offered to make coffee, and when I was turned down I started to delegate (if they didn't want coffee, they could be helpful... right?) I was running about an hour behind schedule because we were having to cook everything one at a time. Still Drunk and Severely Hungover were happy to pitch in, and Sweet Baboo left to run more errands... in the car of course!<br />
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Nobody showed up on time to feast, and I was perfectly fine with that. I had a sneaking suspicion that part of it had to do with the festivities of the Hail and Farewell the night before, and the other part of it had to do with a rumor that we started just before everybody left the H&F: lunch wasn't happening before 1:30. But in the end, we had a fantastic turnout and some very happy Soldiers. And I was happy to have provided a warm place for people to go and be fed. Their other option was the D-FAC (Dining Facility), or random restaurant out in town. Since Koreans do not celebrate Thanksgiving, the restaurants would not have served traditional Thanksgiving foods. Here are some photos of some of the moments during the day:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTtScOfmIO9b_rISp93MXKVdxSM9MI6MyGO5zx7f1vDydRE0EcN4Ze1E8fkI-dpqIDjiUHU00QrdyFpHuKzTU_Qm7fi4pcDiTmQM9OqoqgsVLDoEP7P-MVxWqxf-5QJgFfq3rhTQeQmk1/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTtScOfmIO9b_rISp93MXKVdxSM9MI6MyGO5zx7f1vDydRE0EcN4Ze1E8fkI-dpqIDjiUHU00QrdyFpHuKzTU_Qm7fi4pcDiTmQM9OqoqgsVLDoEP7P-MVxWqxf-5QJgFfq3rhTQeQmk1/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody who came over ended up pitching in. This fellah was our official Meat Carver. He did great!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WFAQQurQZvyHsmG-gYnZn-rN5DgHPhRZOnZ05WlW9s8LjvLdN5GKRx_RQy6O3zFH5owv9z2vUGcWodPNQzNY2tJdaceNZXesi1UCNuTIJQF2jsxRQIPp5d8c8Zxpr_MYSoKXqlMwg5x3/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WFAQQurQZvyHsmG-gYnZn-rN5DgHPhRZOnZ05WlW9s8LjvLdN5GKRx_RQy6O3zFH5owv9z2vUGcWodPNQzNY2tJdaceNZXesi1UCNuTIJQF2jsxRQIPp5d8c8Zxpr_MYSoKXqlMwg5x3/s400/5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I eventually got Sweet Baboo to stop driving places long enough to wash the dishes for me. He always does a great job helping me put on events!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3XEZcdEmi6PacIdlSJXStNi2IZ1ISUtU6-7_5Xl6HXfeTnFFRnRtN0sZ5PpwVfW10Nl7LxH-pcEVb0PLVQOkbdSU6ZvJNzmeqhlnNI9ikpRikwL9bwF1gjTu4qyg7CNoi747WFeHBelF/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3XEZcdEmi6PacIdlSJXStNi2IZ1ISUtU6-7_5Xl6HXfeTnFFRnRtN0sZ5PpwVfW10Nl7LxH-pcEVb0PLVQOkbdSU6ZvJNzmeqhlnNI9ikpRikwL9bwF1gjTu4qyg7CNoi747WFeHBelF/s400/3.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Soldiers spent time writing emails to family while they waited for the feast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HEol3mFMcCg99XdYLTQjenFDqeHSMsI_z4dR5Uf3agytuRnN8j2-TMowhtl5jHmdoSAHO_M1KrH_cLVfsnmqkviJ6ITv5ApmBA_-dikQrTJG0nMSLYLOn0P2U_f9mDDG-dpcOioGxir2/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HEol3mFMcCg99XdYLTQjenFDqeHSMsI_z4dR5Uf3agytuRnN8j2-TMowhtl5jHmdoSAHO_M1KrH_cLVfsnmqkviJ6ITv5ApmBA_-dikQrTJG0nMSLYLOn0P2U_f9mDDG-dpcOioGxir2/s400/4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Others spent time on Facetime, enjoying the technology of the day to help overcome the miles that separated them from family.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnHXA2REsfnLyE9iJBSq8VKDk1Ow2I8gY70R7QxvUjETIJGUnsZIYMoCyI2Bdr8aoZuBnARqDz6n169QY-H_mkIRtCgyzKQQH7-SU5BcNR9cPoALGpDdkS99_Tmr8RvcLaZWt1rQadX50/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnHXA2REsfnLyE9iJBSq8VKDk1Ow2I8gY70R7QxvUjETIJGUnsZIYMoCyI2Bdr8aoZuBnARqDz6n169QY-H_mkIRtCgyzKQQH7-SU5BcNR9cPoALGpDdkS99_Tmr8RvcLaZWt1rQadX50/s400/8.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Board games were brought out and played.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx66Zs4udDuUXXu4uovUgj2_wLzl3SDbi-z_s_JiUkgpCWAsssBLVSBWRyqW4dxnfTkdXt8yASGO40Ju54Np4WkI1fCf53QZrNxuZfh3pwGNCSHZMvDywC9EQqCgUu9yBsLCP9u4OJ16n/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx66Zs4udDuUXXu4uovUgj2_wLzl3SDbi-z_s_JiUkgpCWAsssBLVSBWRyqW4dxnfTkdXt8yASGO40Ju54Np4WkI1fCf53QZrNxuZfh3pwGNCSHZMvDywC9EQqCgUu9yBsLCP9u4OJ16n/s400/19.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Friends were made.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpj274wjzHCtA2latWBlmii6-rD7mmh3Jn1EuaLxCfSiEQFeQ1QrhDINcYl-16me8kZnQTHBm9OOsxeIQmnqLJ7Ak_N1qY1q6muPRM8qPELZzlSadcJZc1f_QfPOpBBb_vWw7_DaITwrSg/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpj274wjzHCtA2latWBlmii6-rD7mmh3Jn1EuaLxCfSiEQFeQ1QrhDINcYl-16me8kZnQTHBm9OOsxeIQmnqLJ7Ak_N1qY1q6muPRM8qPELZzlSadcJZc1f_QfPOpBBb_vWw7_DaITwrSg/s400/6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearly, selfies were taken!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaX1TI8wVQAHLQtorPhd8_efilRgeahfXqBy546AYd4bf8X8XLKrjuWBFzF0Wo-BDZnt8wdZeSnTlXxQ-mA1cU03u2T6KJIueZMETfz2f3_GvhGszMzIykCqcWpB2tNaw2E1mkK6n0d1e/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaX1TI8wVQAHLQtorPhd8_efilRgeahfXqBy546AYd4bf8X8XLKrjuWBFzF0Wo-BDZnt8wdZeSnTlXxQ-mA1cU03u2T6KJIueZMETfz2f3_GvhGszMzIykCqcWpB2tNaw2E1mkK6n0d1e/s400/12.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American Deviled Eggs and Korean Grapes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzLyLh0M9A8EPVL6nDH9Itz4I17FeWANRKhLrffcKZynw1BO8NUKgXkrIme8Wjgz0jqugxxiBeXd5sYWrTdcGHhlDmsEwwK3yaql6Joz5EHPRw0G_b_U0H19tprrHq0-NZoANur3EI0F8/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzLyLh0M9A8EPVL6nDH9Itz4I17FeWANRKhLrffcKZynw1BO8NUKgXkrIme8Wjgz0jqugxxiBeXd5sYWrTdcGHhlDmsEwwK3yaql6Joz5EHPRw0G_b_U0H19tprrHq0-NZoANur3EI0F8/s400/10.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Army-issued table wasn't big enough for all of the food. Some of it had to sit next to the television in the living room!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFON4_h36y51pHL5hsM3jxUVimLBfoYsSk4gGvGhHoMfwA9xOP0Eg_hwXfbvMiYGAP-pX0OCLf5Q2Bwoj0JffosQ-ADUE-hx9BUVDnDLWxGk1B364nZ4ci_bw-dIHjmlTOXym9M4DTl9bz/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFON4_h36y51pHL5hsM3jxUVimLBfoYsSk4gGvGhHoMfwA9xOP0Eg_hwXfbvMiYGAP-pX0OCLf5Q2Bwoj0JffosQ-ADUE-hx9BUVDnDLWxGk1B364nZ4ci_bw-dIHjmlTOXym9M4DTl9bz/s400/11.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The turkey was the biggest hit this year! The only leftover was one wing. We have plenty of ham leftover, but you'll hear no complaining about that here!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyelcjF7y5Nl_oWKq8dzrXS3qW2-teFeJa8HsPtkE3ntBJ49P_icEft1VaGjDqjs4JSImBidubR7rclQ1YoP1GUsumgOI2gk3k8B62SMUYFAzEjDuybqxrIuTF9HtBw19tCQccXKgoZce/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyelcjF7y5Nl_oWKq8dzrXS3qW2-teFeJa8HsPtkE3ntBJ49P_icEft1VaGjDqjs4JSImBidubR7rclQ1YoP1GUsumgOI2gk3k8B62SMUYFAzEjDuybqxrIuTF9HtBw19tCQccXKgoZce/s400/15.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the Soldiers didn't have a way to contribute food. So they brought booze. Old Fashioneds were made, and enjoyed by many!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAfO6Tv9Z4tXF6Um_cFdM0QQNOCcOH2-3kVZ2dK7uRQs7oF5aUaH3QkLhVweucL448BXOSBrrP_WI-q8HhQTa8RJ3IhsLNBAbTymL62g19FJmvaOWsOIv6J4KvBz5VxdjzaaJj3d1nyQL/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAfO6Tv9Z4tXF6Um_cFdM0QQNOCcOH2-3kVZ2dK7uRQs7oF5aUaH3QkLhVweucL448BXOSBrrP_WI-q8HhQTa8RJ3IhsLNBAbTymL62g19FJmvaOWsOIv6J4KvBz5VxdjzaaJj3d1nyQL/s400/14.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Soldiers bought enough food for Round 2, and came over to prepare it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHci8GRkTBHd_vUmeOt1Dq78unHr_uPcej16QZhmUBs-488rKPoKW14XpJ_VSFiNiIMKeAMSGM8zfwDQu3F_wo83vVscAKH-oOBTN4QqpSYKXRB2BbcRUdcyDGO6HZqPr0_jRijlSoPs0o/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHci8GRkTBHd_vUmeOt1Dq78unHr_uPcej16QZhmUBs-488rKPoKW14XpJ_VSFiNiIMKeAMSGM8zfwDQu3F_wo83vVscAKH-oOBTN4QqpSYKXRB2BbcRUdcyDGO6HZqPr0_jRijlSoPs0o/s400/16.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a rush to eat the food on the table so more food could be put out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaR_g6PwnaEjbDgvZzuzO2pUb5mZI_V7Hr0bqvFjDWK40fQs7hOs0ImCh_fVaJBTVDtvLPdWSwLlSme-rLzt8qZLxMb6MtJ9US2fmirC6Z9LVdenmIjAKS43WbUsP4aklgiriwRv0KexH/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaR_g6PwnaEjbDgvZzuzO2pUb5mZI_V7Hr0bqvFjDWK40fQs7hOs0ImCh_fVaJBTVDtvLPdWSwLlSme-rLzt8qZLxMb6MtJ9US2fmirC6Z9LVdenmIjAKS43WbUsP4aklgiriwRv0KexH/s400/17.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And everybody ate enough to be put into a food coma.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uPjA4opEd4IV9cVn-IKejtaTYnCq2LSH7E2mAxfhxi5BS1PX3IS6D2bQUKiQ0LA_45vQJFBQ5MQ40Lt7qc2K1mUkCHQ4NNb7z3I51WQAjYb8whEFWQ-r0_okQVVLy3wYcXnifbRN80DD/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uPjA4opEd4IV9cVn-IKejtaTYnCq2LSH7E2mAxfhxi5BS1PX3IS6D2bQUKiQ0LA_45vQJFBQ5MQ40Lt7qc2K1mUkCHQ4NNb7z3I51WQAjYb8whEFWQ-r0_okQVVLy3wYcXnifbRN80DD/s400/18.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was already talk of doing it again in December for Christmas. We're planning it as we speak!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbrcDW6aafl9ssBjj_uj2i17c6MfB1dImbw53Di5I3Hj2rlOgJfhZ-NYAIYUb7SDT8Kj7k0wGvvw2U3yMEd6gLEbG5jbbScGLoA2nq_FI-MgPyLjn92c4bcC0xAaDYEpKLPXMsbiE_6-A/s1600/20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbrcDW6aafl9ssBjj_uj2i17c6MfB1dImbw53Di5I3Hj2rlOgJfhZ-NYAIYUb7SDT8Kj7k0wGvvw2U3yMEd6gLEbG5jbbScGLoA2nq_FI-MgPyLjn92c4bcC0xAaDYEpKLPXMsbiE_6-A/s400/20.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One good thing about hosting Soldiers: if you don't have enough chairs for everybody, nobody complains. They are just happy to be sitting on heated floors!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5g-69SFIitJWusOl2hq3XmFsuSBkIYhNJsXjl7c6acap8fXmyqpACnxDiRkM_msK3xIhGSgDS8yDSH0FkKrvufPM1nFmTv1PqbT4uLDTb6Ig3YP1YcRwWIzJkRo1bYwGs24dmXycs5rX/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5g-69SFIitJWusOl2hq3XmFsuSBkIYhNJsXjl7c6acap8fXmyqpACnxDiRkM_msK3xIhGSgDS8yDSH0FkKrvufPM1nFmTv1PqbT4uLDTb6Ig3YP1YcRwWIzJkRo1bYwGs24dmXycs5rX/s400/21.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In fact, very few people sat in chairs. The heated floors are just that glorious!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYig7lPNYYulN7Jd-wWk4pA9mSCYH5cGiB8aaUlaoZ-PoL5BhiiYTQth8ek9Eb5jNGN_dK9GWx5G3o2uJ1garZePsY5RqGAgfiD0CMV5imdDUJPeXE81wR9HBPEzTjdHBrm_317N0UZ4x/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYig7lPNYYulN7Jd-wWk4pA9mSCYH5cGiB8aaUlaoZ-PoL5BhiiYTQth8ek9Eb5jNGN_dK9GWx5G3o2uJ1garZePsY5RqGAgfiD0CMV5imdDUJPeXE81wR9HBPEzTjdHBrm_317N0UZ4x/s400/22.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Korean culture: leave your shoes at the door. Shoes are for outside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlOQPvBbAmUpiUj_T-UmYOmo1a1V2lUMB25nbB08Gmls6lUNU0S7YBHY1UeUVZF6KrGaFhklGK6hUw6l4_M-FM3s9RiVss-UWjKx5psLPiuP-EITiMYKkVxG8r_tybxIhkibYUxVVsdyr/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlOQPvBbAmUpiUj_T-UmYOmo1a1V2lUMB25nbB08Gmls6lUNU0S7YBHY1UeUVZF6KrGaFhklGK6hUw6l4_M-FM3s9RiVss-UWjKx5psLPiuP-EITiMYKkVxG8r_tybxIhkibYUxVVsdyr/s400/23.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spunky Thanksgiving Tradition: Sweet Baboo plays horsey for the girls. He may be getting too old for this game. Or the girls may be getting too big. Or both.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One of the locals gave a gift to Sweet Baboo for Thanksgiving. They may not celebrate the holiday, but they do understand that it is an honored holiday for Americans. And they give a token of their appreciation to the Soldiers they honor as a way to show respect.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgB3FVT1RG1txanDzIgA2BFa-TDaWYXY5Zu9Ks_Bs5cpX01FLKJ6hes9XGW0wwGYieRRccTHT8bk0qZh9C5eYstCI2pFr34jdDEz3IDxMbOAMUk5o5uxhzrqm7ChF126N3Y3jrOeMl-Fn/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgB3FVT1RG1txanDzIgA2BFa-TDaWYXY5Zu9Ks_Bs5cpX01FLKJ6hes9XGW0wwGYieRRccTHT8bk0qZh9C5eYstCI2pFr34jdDEz3IDxMbOAMUk5o5uxhzrqm7ChF126N3Y3jrOeMl-Fn/s400/11.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bottom says "Thank You U.S. Army for Saving Korea". We were deeply touched by this gift.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After everybody had gone home, the girls wanted to go out on a walk. We rather enjoy our daily walks, and couldn't let this magnificent day pass without one. So we went to our favorite ice cream shop for another heavenly cup of ice cream with hot coffee on top. It really was a glorious Thanksgiving!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUzhKJ5TvTJrStFL8E1mDoUWsMWVhNfWH4vXaEucMFYJUBU257pm_uKA38lzG8vpuOm-cF7pXkRJHcS-VTDatvCPFznO6MaCVkBOU4l0MAyXBXiDorMM8G5xVPu2iCUkgh7X5xuTO1nyl/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUzhKJ5TvTJrStFL8E1mDoUWsMWVhNfWH4vXaEucMFYJUBU257pm_uKA38lzG8vpuOm-cF7pXkRJHcS-VTDatvCPFznO6MaCVkBOU4l0MAyXBXiDorMM8G5xVPu2iCUkgh7X5xuTO1nyl/s400/13.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is quickly becoming my favorite treat.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-60719220444113982012015-11-26T06:14:00.000-06:002015-11-26T06:14:05.977-06:00TGBKA: THE FOOD!When we were <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.kr/2015/11/tgbka-day-60-slow-plane-ride-to-korea.html" target="_blank">flying from the States to Korea</a>, the girls and I decided that we were going to get started on trying Korean food right then and there. In hindsight, that could have been a miserable decision should our systems decide to reject the food; glad we have tummies of steel! When we landed, I mentioned to Sweet Baboo that we basically feasted during our flight. He responded by saying, "So you're not hungry?" The second I said, "Nope. I think we're all pretty full!" I regretted it. I was instantly hungry. But I do not like putting people out, and I felt like my famous 15 checked bags and 5 carry on bags were putting people out enough. So I remained silent about my hunger.<br />
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As a great family friend of ours drove the girls and me to our apartment, the hunger and exhaustion started to kick my butt. I tried my best to stay awake, but hunger submitted and exhaustion overtook me. I can only hope my snoring didn't make Family Friend snicker too much as she escorted us to our new home.<br />
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When we got to the apartment we unloaded all bags on the curb and hugged Family Friend with as much genuine thanksgiving that my exhausted and confused body could bestow at the time. I remember little about that night, but the girls have filled in a few blanks for me. I do remember being very concerned about leaving some of our boxes and bags on the curb as we went up to the apartment with the first load. Sweet Baboo and his Handy Helper assured me that our stuff was perfectly safe. In fact Handy Helper said, "You could leave it there for a week and it wouldn't budge!" That was seriously reassuring.<br />
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After getting the first load upstairs, my body quit. All functional movement and communication simply gave out. I found the Army-issued couch, told the kids to not leave the apartment (while Sweet Baboo and Handy Helper were on their way down to finish grabbing the rest of our load) and collapsed in a horizontal position for the first time in over 20 hours. It. Was. Glorious.<br />
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I remember hearing Sweet Baboo reenter the apartment and ask the girls if they were hungry. I vaguely remember hearing Sweet Baboo whisper in my ear that he was taking the girls downstairs so they could pick up something to eat. And I remember smelling fried chicken some time after that... though I don't know how long it took. I remember thinking, "Oh great. The very last thing I need right now is greasy fried chicken on my tummy..." but then tasting the chicken and subsequently thinking, "Holy crap! How in the world did they get it this crispy and juicy without being greasy?!" Seriously... the American South could really take some pointers from South Korea for fried chicken magic.<br />
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I could only muster enough energy to eat one small thigh before I decided that horizontal was the position for me. I don't remember getting up from the table, but I do remember hugging the wall (directly behind the table... seriously, it's a step and a half away) when Sweet Baboo was trying his best to wake me long enough to make my way to bed. All I could think of was "This is the most comfortable wall I've hugged in quite some time. I could probably sleep a couple hours with this wall. Just leave me alone." He didn't leave me alone. And I was (eventually) glad he didn't. Because you can't hug a wall in the horizontal position, and getting horizontal was my ultimate goal.<br />
<br />
The next morning, for the first time in years, all I wanted was a good cup of coffee. My body was rested, stretched, and ready to take on the transition to Korea... my mind, however, was rising up a militia to overthrow my body unless certain demands were met. And the first demand was copious amounts of caffeine. Sweet Baboo has been living the Geo-Bachelor lifestyle (more on that later) for months, so he didn't have any coffee in the apartment. I asked to head out in search of a coffee shop. He tried to explain to me that my mission was futile for at least another five more hours, but I insisted. This is what I found:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBsUubK724IznaSZuxldpyQoB8OjclCdMGGamuaFqInmzz8yxsyQqwlpdo413Bj4gruS9R61RBzKaXm0ntFcXRUWl-Rwp6AV0C4TrNGc5hRWAWXgUkn5WsDSx_UiXpOGlZx2Xd3ij2GSb/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBsUubK724IznaSZuxldpyQoB8OjclCdMGGamuaFqInmzz8yxsyQqwlpdo413Bj4gruS9R61RBzKaXm0ntFcXRUWl-Rwp6AV0C4TrNGc5hRWAWXgUkn5WsDSx_UiXpOGlZx2Xd3ij2GSb/s400/6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This coffee shop is 25 steps outside our apartment complex. Exciting, right? WRONG! Check out their hours (next photo).</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhF5dizwOqfDYDFqq3tPnr7YghZQMifxl7d_wWktsTI9tVjy8750wGHpGGG6eTyj__m5wbCVeMm3Q9-d-wnZBzq3HfmfHhUOb47XFIAbIjcVcfF902NlS5D40gZhyU4TlyEWyO68ncmwHJ/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhF5dizwOqfDYDFqq3tPnr7YghZQMifxl7d_wWktsTI9tVjy8750wGHpGGG6eTyj__m5wbCVeMm3Q9-d-wnZBzq3HfmfHhUOb47XFIAbIjcVcfF902NlS5D40gZhyU4TlyEWyO68ncmwHJ/s400/7.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THEY DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 11:30AM! </td></tr>
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I am not really the type of person who can't function without their coffee... in fact, I usually take until 2pm to <i>finish my first cup of the day!</i> That's usually because I set the cup down as I'm doing my morning awesomeness and forget where I set it. But on my first morning in Korea, I was ready to go nuclear if I didn't get coffee right away.<br />
<br />
So we went to the store that we now refer to as the Gas and Sip. I'm not sure why we call it the Gas and Sip; you can't buy gas from there (as far as I can see). And the name of the store is written in English as GS 25... but Sweet Baboo calls it the Gas and Sip, Handy Helper calls it the Gas and Sip, and we now call it the Gas and Sip. They had this little gem on their shelves, and I was happy for the moment:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRHpyHBUBin52BBvrQ8ZWAPL9dQWpZG4N58-UVSpMf-TE-7Q0xHTSS2kDienJ_ovcDRoz2VVcn82SNu0l-mqHwkfWjq3oVgWap07-pqZcKrMMpyd8bqICseQGNxphSR_xUEKDfLHxh0Qr/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRHpyHBUBin52BBvrQ8ZWAPL9dQWpZG4N58-UVSpMf-TE-7Q0xHTSS2kDienJ_ovcDRoz2VVcn82SNu0l-mqHwkfWjq3oVgWap07-pqZcKrMMpyd8bqICseQGNxphSR_xUEKDfLHxh0Qr/s400/10.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Using my powers of deduction, I assumed this to be a caramel latte. I was correct, and it was delicious!</td></tr>
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We also stopped by a lovely little bakery that is just down the street from our complex, and had some rather delicious doughnuts. I was starting to worry that everything tasted so yummy because I was jetlagged and ready to eat anything at that point. We have since gone by the same bakery for other goods and they were even more delicious than I remembered from that first morning!<br />
<br />
Later, we stopped by another little mart near our complex and picked up more coffee for me, and little snacky treats for the girls. We had to get used to the stores feeling small and cramped, and very cluttered. There are so many things to see and try to figure out, and most things are not written in English at all. You learn to go off of the photos on the packages. We grabbed a bag of little oranges and more coffee for me from here:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL4kabiI2tDQcBZ85rb_nRILW20Zgpb_Y-UTVLYs1-DfP3iSsukQCtA2yGWX9vr-4miRrkPbhDO5Gwcj2KQw-bDUZ4Wm-luNVsERsehFa10Y_Nr53NOxANRCPH5OTpuznq3ziqSetLg_U/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL4kabiI2tDQcBZ85rb_nRILW20Zgpb_Y-UTVLYs1-DfP3iSsukQCtA2yGWX9vr-4miRrkPbhDO5Gwcj2KQw-bDUZ4Wm-luNVsERsehFa10Y_Nr53NOxANRCPH5OTpuznq3ziqSetLg_U/s400/9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love seeing all of the produce on the porch of this store. It almost feels like a farmer's market!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cJMTxOB09XsWT15gKYLkVxqiahmJ7vYrBnsme4STXgxAkwJn4hNj3qvBU4hZlX6nGoKA_R1GeA1SG-1JA1H-mNs2uXwDbozJ5EqsPt4z_QiJb-9MJsoWIcbac83etig_lz2ayxvWd9h6/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cJMTxOB09XsWT15gKYLkVxqiahmJ7vYrBnsme4STXgxAkwJn4hNj3qvBU4hZlX6nGoKA_R1GeA1SG-1JA1H-mNs2uXwDbozJ5EqsPt4z_QiJb-9MJsoWIcbac83etig_lz2ayxvWd9h6/s400/8.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the same store, but on the inside. </td></tr>
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That evening, Sweet Baboo wanted to treat the girls and me to a dinner at a restaurant that he and Handy Helper refer to as "Angry Face". Guess why...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb7k960lUz9mNdDOfuvdlwAUgSOj83wowJzCCgjR966_jNMxMj1qoYrXQaELWTt8yKvBNBheDp3NwrXWL_oaGaDoal0lf3TbeQ9TcfJckQAAQmuRRfktIOZ4GeOV_2G8_ciysuwP5Ubm8/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb7k960lUz9mNdDOfuvdlwAUgSOj83wowJzCCgjR966_jNMxMj1qoYrXQaELWTt8yKvBNBheDp3NwrXWL_oaGaDoal0lf3TbeQ9TcfJckQAAQmuRRfktIOZ4GeOV_2G8_ciysuwP5Ubm8/s400/5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love the logo! I fear I'll never fully be able to mimic the look though.</td></tr>
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As soon as we had ordered and they brought out the food, The Elder started to get painfully tired. We looked over and she was swallowing tears and doing her very best to hide her pain. Sweet Baboo generously offered to take her back to the apartment and let me stay with The Wee to enjoy Angry Face. But as Sweet Baboo and The Elder started putting on jackets, The Wee said that she was very tired and ready for bed. So Handy Helper and I stayed behind and enjoyed the dinner. They ordered spicy pork:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAftSSCXuUej7fLPe6vsqj46Ddw5btUAoxVLzCv7bhW0XxFQZdw9z4sUJEPTaxf_3SjnoW1bnSEMLO0LEwobm253hQrsneazo4R5zbihBcKqbRkRaJvx08D-d4LhFpgm3EsWre_VzAdCmt/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAftSSCXuUej7fLPe6vsqj46Ddw5btUAoxVLzCv7bhW0XxFQZdw9z4sUJEPTaxf_3SjnoW1bnSEMLO0LEwobm253hQrsneazo4R5zbihBcKqbRkRaJvx08D-d4LhFpgm3EsWre_VzAdCmt/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The green salad tasted like molten lava. The miso soup was on point! I didn't touch the red pepper sauce (red), but really enjoyed the salty garlic flavored yellow goop with my pork!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1TpRUSI0w_e6mst05CYY2NsHl3URSuQr_3vACCqymqZGGIkTYuUBa4p0l13T9gA1O21qwFJKCwjRYIC9Z-0pGIYXYfjvk4uZwJyHlmTEM5YhXtIM3VVbtENHMunJfG-duN0m8OuO_fEs/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1TpRUSI0w_e6mst05CYY2NsHl3URSuQr_3vACCqymqZGGIkTYuUBa4p0l13T9gA1O21qwFJKCwjRYIC9Z-0pGIYXYfjvk4uZwJyHlmTEM5YhXtIM3VVbtENHMunJfG-duN0m8OuO_fEs/s400/2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They bring the meat out to you raw and it gets cooked at the table.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmR-KeMZtYtzLBKBt3dTadzHlg6-82Ue0FD3MvNAAIPZvjYAm114cOqn6Bb2wfUK3BIaufxfJvpwsY1yTIT7ayePPuyV8mLpFVLiIq3g3Rww-3x37kHeeiKEQs1d6SlgNDVDj1gjV6JLd/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmR-KeMZtYtzLBKBt3dTadzHlg6-82Ue0FD3MvNAAIPZvjYAm114cOqn6Bb2wfUK3BIaufxfJvpwsY1yTIT7ayePPuyV8mLpFVLiIq3g3Rww-3x37kHeeiKEQs1d6SlgNDVDj1gjV6JLd/s400/3.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Customers generally cook the food themselves, but on this night the restaurant sent somebody to our table to cook for us. It was quite a treat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheC5tYaf-WbfjA1fa7ITg5GGFnbxJ5tOEL9XbjKxAJQCwz3qcmKRoqljQJC_2uzJYVfjAQKUfRD6Vt77pkGoHcO8Ib3Ndz7DjRSi8-Zy11TMEUSx2L8iPWEU7JVR21kkrIcDF8_pNWrJ9s/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheC5tYaf-WbfjA1fa7ITg5GGFnbxJ5tOEL9XbjKxAJQCwz3qcmKRoqljQJC_2uzJYVfjAQKUfRD6Vt77pkGoHcO8Ib3Ndz7DjRSi8-Zy11TMEUSx2L8iPWEU7JVR21kkrIcDF8_pNWrJ9s/s400/4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The garlic slices were perfect!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The spicy pork was very tasty, but when eaten with the molten lava salad my face felt like it was on fire! We packed up some food to take back to Sweet Baboo and headed back to the apartment. I was tired and headed for bed; Sweet Baboo and Handy Helper stayed up and talked for a bit.<br />
<br />
The next day, Sweet Baboo took us to a noodle place in our apartment complex and ordered for all of us. It was during that meal that we decided to stop letting him guide our dining experiences. We shall forever refer to that particular bowl of noodles as "Surface of the Sun Noodles".<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejpFo49cztFXuuCwoISobVYk50zUtLvcvKraq8EsXdcYc-039tMOuo2rGjoYBgPykaV3grErSJF_-EHcX1zpb5IjITbbe_SLler4fSfAYGoifdg1qZEYRaFHDvVV1jt0rTacmJ0aXeIRZ/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejpFo49cztFXuuCwoISobVYk50zUtLvcvKraq8EsXdcYc-039tMOuo2rGjoYBgPykaV3grErSJF_-EHcX1zpb5IjITbbe_SLler4fSfAYGoifdg1qZEYRaFHDvVV1jt0rTacmJ0aXeIRZ/s400/13.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They don't look deadly, but these noodles will melt your face off!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlMpwrc-Z_K1um5-Ibc0EjvyZ34RDuU6jOPnzl8BMvMmsGHmPT0s_GPSMdggpG8n6A5RUwesOxs3LHVpqykFvKSjtqy2r_gztqbGBedzLwjLsvUO30ciU3JR3OuCsbb35dt6nYtab2ujTB/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlMpwrc-Z_K1um5-Ibc0EjvyZ34RDuU6jOPnzl8BMvMmsGHmPT0s_GPSMdggpG8n6A5RUwesOxs3LHVpqykFvKSjtqy2r_gztqbGBedzLwjLsvUO30ciU3JR3OuCsbb35dt6nYtab2ujTB/s400/12.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They really tried to eat the Surface of the Sun Noodles. We found something else for them instead.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Later that day we decided to venture over to the train station to figure that out. On our way I noticed a lovely little restaurant and asked if we could pop in for a bite to eat. Sweet Baboo was intrigued and let me do the ordering. With a lot of pointing and gesturing I fumbled my way through the experience. I'm not sure I got what I intended to order, but I'm okay with that. We got a bowl of AWESOMESAUCE, and we now call the soup "SpunkySoul's Success Soup". Here is what it looks like:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_9yQPOVJ1L3DRac9jycjJodHqULARHxB28hPrsXJIiDr90mow2SsljuJSJQTntM5-fOtl1Y8HvChExnGQPN2MxK2NlYacQ-Sjki-Z11zbmFcT1jslT-m_hYc8_fjPcaWD4hXUEFMb-NS/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_9yQPOVJ1L3DRac9jycjJodHqULARHxB28hPrsXJIiDr90mow2SsljuJSJQTntM5-fOtl1Y8HvChExnGQPN2MxK2NlYacQ-Sjki-Z11zbmFcT1jslT-m_hYc8_fjPcaWD4hXUEFMb-NS/s400/14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you order a bowl of soup, you get all kinds of sides as well. The soup is still cooking when it comes to the table, and it is literally boiling in the bowl. Waiting for it to cool (and the food to finish cooking) is highly recommended.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When the soup arrived to our table, a couple of customers who had just walked in sat at the table next to us and they guided us through seasoning and eating our soup. Not one word was understood, but we enjoyed gesturing and reading the body language and facial expressions on each other to gain understanding. I think my favorite part was watching the girls get involved in the action as they tried to communicate as well. It was an amazing experience!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2uaHXFumQ4Ryf9pGlHySdOMhPx2E270MYIGgUShe2px0R2VUlt6IZOYBqNSLv4A5KioCUp9_uf3yFYVzM37sLSOOL9F71TQCZFw_rgvKOgOdNWZBm1A8pqHz_IEo-ksxKtUKRruqFbHL/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2uaHXFumQ4Ryf9pGlHySdOMhPx2E270MYIGgUShe2px0R2VUlt6IZOYBqNSLv4A5KioCUp9_uf3yFYVzM37sLSOOL9F71TQCZFw_rgvKOgOdNWZBm1A8pqHz_IEo-ksxKtUKRruqFbHL/s400/23.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the soup finishes cooking, and stops boiling, you add a couple of scoops of the seasoning that's on the table. It becomes more creamy and looks like this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VV4eZyo5RQPSUhRTCWzsZxtAW-foyBWtut9bA1nZ8X42BwpiD8jCrO7WDP5oLxrkd-YF0Ru77_-V_UNhRwKf6SzT5YomvGiTYNI8dBn1NQ7V5l7naklpv5KOB2NRLOoi6PFeMVUFCNtT/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VV4eZyo5RQPSUhRTCWzsZxtAW-foyBWtut9bA1nZ8X42BwpiD8jCrO7WDP5oLxrkd-YF0Ru77_-V_UNhRwKf6SzT5YomvGiTYNI8dBn1NQ7V5l7naklpv5KOB2NRLOoi6PFeMVUFCNtT/s400/15.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A couple of guys in Sweet Baboo's office (who are Korean) told me that this is "hangover soup". And this hunk of yummy is clear noodles with "parts of the pig" bundled inside... tied up with the pig's intestine. It's magnificent!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiTbwlIbfly2yh0iSlTlu94nRAd5wUh7kzblRRTA7V-HodHn02Es0ig1jtxGBG0dHKL_jWxH1A8t4UQPCg4i1WoXBbqf_qqplXb0u3Iw5iy5bLRuQ2XSNFxgpi7Yb9N7fMF2y22FWyF_T/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiTbwlIbfly2yh0iSlTlu94nRAd5wUh7kzblRRTA7V-HodHn02Es0ig1jtxGBG0dHKL_jWxH1A8t4UQPCg4i1WoXBbqf_qqplXb0u3Iw5iy5bLRuQ2XSNFxgpi7Yb9N7fMF2y22FWyF_T/s400/16.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are no salt and pepper shakers on the table. Rather, they have this community bowl of salted prawns for you to use to salt your soup. It adds a lot of flavor!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We have loved SpunkySoul's Success Soup so much that we have gone back again, and the girls have requested it a third time! At 6,000 won per bowl, it's quite cheap (especially since the girls can split a bowl and be full after!).<br />
<br />
We have had other great food experiences so far... but those will have to go in another post. We're too busy learning a little more every day, and I need to get better at posting our experiences before heading to bed. It's good to have goals...<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-5989105456779879322015-11-23T19:54:00.001-06:002015-11-23T19:54:14.204-06:00TGBKA: IT'S ELECTRIC (BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE)As I mentioned earlier in this blog, I spent the last 70 or so days preparing <i><a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.kr/2015/11/tgbka-day-60-slow-plane-ride-to-korea.html" target="_blank">to get to Korea</a></i>, and spent little to no time preparing <i>to live in Korea.</i> I got passports, shipped a car, endured three different pack outs, packed 15 bags to check on the airplane and 5 bags to carry on, and on and on and on. So when I got to Korea you would think I let out this great big sigh of relief that all of that work was over... right? Wrong.<br />
<br />
The first thing I noticed when I got to our new apartment was that I couldn't plug anything in. My Apple Watch was dead (traveling around the world will do that)... I couldn't plug it in. My iPhone was dead... couldn't plug it in. I wanted to fire up the laptop so I could write a few things about my flight... nope. I knew that there was a big difference between the American outlets that I was used to and the Korean ones I was about to live with, but I hadn't done any SpunkyResearch to know what I was truly in for. And to be honest, I'm still kind of confused.<br />
<br />
We have little plugs that Sweet Baboo calls "adapters". As far as I know, these little things are simply the middle man between my American plugs and our apartment's Korean outlets. I don't think there is any translation between the power the apartment sends to the device, and the amount of power the device needs. I need to research that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALb3tPwglRGmBCTlDq-wMQ7r2YN8NP4mYh24Z6tZgJ9uP982_e7h34erAkmUWThUSK8EYLXJbi0xxqPeerGJP4H5bsjDxfx5akaSz0-_gnWskeOFt7-355qhM5NBgdzBkmtFKUd_zzDes/s1600/12243144_10206778334570820_1142543730024184812_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALb3tPwglRGmBCTlDq-wMQ7r2YN8NP4mYh24Z6tZgJ9uP982_e7h34erAkmUWThUSK8EYLXJbi0xxqPeerGJP4H5bsjDxfx5akaSz0-_gnWskeOFt7-355qhM5NBgdzBkmtFKUd_zzDes/s400/12243144_10206778334570820_1142543730024184812_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute little guys, right? I remember getting a few of these in some product packages I opened back in the States. Wish I held onto them...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQLxvHIC2Vu_r9SLHKXX7j-VsdJiHFLK98nHyBz9uVDB6yb7YELIb_eDhV68jY1nVMwViq0iV-Ckc0nq2-DTpbwwp7Tl5u_aj9UVpP4IJbZncm265fGE_1YXcda7nACsNTUndCJGrszRs/s1600/12279118_10206778333850802_8295965958766453387_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQLxvHIC2Vu_r9SLHKXX7j-VsdJiHFLK98nHyBz9uVDB6yb7YELIb_eDhV68jY1nVMwViq0iV-Ckc0nq2-DTpbwwp7Tl5u_aj9UVpP4IJbZncm265fGE_1YXcda7nACsNTUndCJGrszRs/s400/12279118_10206778333850802_8295965958766453387_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At around 500 won, they aren't terribly expensive... until you look around at how many things you need to plug in!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But then there are these "transformers". No, Optimus Prime isn't living in our apartment (but seriously, how awesome would that be?!). My powers of amazing deduction tell me that these devices <i>do</i> translate the differences in power. But I don't know how. Sweet Baboo keeps tossing around numbers like 220 and 110... he tells me that [<i>this]</i> thing doesn't need the transformer, but {<i>that}</i> thing does. He says that we'll need "a few more transformers" for the things that I have coming in our HHG shipment... but which ones will we need? There's the 1KVA Down Transformers (approximately $30 each), the 2KVA Down Transformers (around $45 each), or the big 3KVA Down Transformers (I think I saw it for $60). But what's the difference between these? I don't know... it's all in Korean! I need to do research on that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXKqiEX4kW3NckyKUWEBCQfgju_2YBgg3O9DpGZxwFMsWldEuFnzpBkXw6Y3N0r2LMuxq3L9NAQl0ewZqi1b3wjVJE-GLEHSmr8544avaYYI85hDUSCDXP0N2nlrNQu6fIBjIush3BwVt/s1600/12243211_10206778329890703_6610421561077922333_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXKqiEX4kW3NckyKUWEBCQfgju_2YBgg3O9DpGZxwFMsWldEuFnzpBkXw6Y3N0r2LMuxq3L9NAQl0ewZqi1b3wjVJE-GLEHSmr8544avaYYI85hDUSCDXP0N2nlrNQu6fIBjIush3BwVt/s400/12243211_10206778329890703_6610421561077922333_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These fellahs aren't terribly small. There is no such thing as decorating when these are involved. They remind me of old Army equipment!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lOFK-KaKAeOPHwQsRzSPGqbQWhmTq96cnbuRnruDPBLzm8ff5Y_xaTh8I5SeN38ukq-HqzuNBYg7ugYbcXk4XEDMm5IoeZY1SZoW6sWZwEoHcr195rtROpSz4TL-_toHU7aCiJr73tFp/s1600/11234964_10206778329810701_8020850033115646159_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lOFK-KaKAeOPHwQsRzSPGqbQWhmTq96cnbuRnruDPBLzm8ff5Y_xaTh8I5SeN38ukq-HqzuNBYg7ugYbcXk4XEDMm5IoeZY1SZoW6sWZwEoHcr195rtROpSz4TL-_toHU7aCiJr73tFp/s400/11234964_10206778329810701_8020850033115646159_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who wants to translate this for me?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA4MebJew9X7JA5VgebzRjOuoUzzj3Sp0f0mm0kF6T7I2Hz0uHbnr3lqzzsACRQlgwgcycrxFiW2GX9GaOAnPzmcx6Dz7GNgXcKd6R8UpO1TSQN5QyWk1N6SCze9eoDiSGfCYe75ia60aV/s1600/12289518_10206778329610696_7840417873906713673_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA4MebJew9X7JA5VgebzRjOuoUzzj3Sp0f0mm0kF6T7I2Hz0uHbnr3lqzzsACRQlgwgcycrxFiW2GX9GaOAnPzmcx6Dz7GNgXcKd6R8UpO1TSQN5QyWk1N6SCze9eoDiSGfCYe75ia60aV/s400/12289518_10206778329610696_7840417873906713673_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or this? I'd love to know what the knob means!</td></tr>
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But I do know that the bigger the box, the more power they pull. And that costs more money. You see, electricity is billed differently here than in America. The bill literally gets exponentially more expensive based on the amount of electricity used. It's like this: There is a basic fee that you pay based on how much electricity you use. The basic fee goes up in increments of 100kWh of usage.<br />
<br />
< 100 kWh 410 won<br />
101 - 200 kWh 910 won<br />
201 - 300 kWh 1,600 won<br />
301 - 400 kWh 3,850 won<br />
401 - 500 kWh 7,300 won<br />
> 500 kWh 12,940 won<br />
<br />
That's just the basic fee to use the electricity in that bracket. <i>Everybody</i> pays that basic fee. But the Koreans have devised a way to reward those who work diligently to conserve energy. They tax each bracket, and the taxes stack.<br />
<br />
< 100 kWh 61 won<br />
101 - 200 kWh 126 won<br />
201 - 300 kWh 188 won<br />
301 - 400 kWh 281 won<br />
401 - 500 kWh 418 won<br />
> 500 kWh 710 won<br />
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<br /></div>
So if we had a month of 300kWh, here is how our bill should look (according to my understanding of this system):<br />
<br />
1,600 won: Basic Fee<br />
6,100 won: (first bracket tax: 100kWh x 61 won)<br />
25,200 won: (second bracket tax: 200kWh x 126 won)<br />
56,400 won: (third bracket tax: 300kWh x 188 won)<br />
------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
89,300 won: (sub total)<br />
<br />
That's a subtotal because there are two other taxes that I still haven't figured out. One is a 10% VAT tax, and the other is the 3.7% Electricity Industrial Fund. So let's add those together:<br />
<br />
89,300 won: (subtotal)<br />
8,930 won: (10% VAT)<br />
3,304 won: (3.7% Electricity Industrial Fund)<br />
----------------------------------------------------------<br />
101,534 won (still a subtotal)<br />
<br />
We aren't done paying for electricity yet! That part of our bill will be the portion we have the most control over. I can turn off the lights in my apartment, I can unplug electronics that we don't use often. But there is another portion to our bill that I have no control over. There are two more sections to my bill that I am expected to pay. I will pay fees for the community electricity and the elevator electricity. These are split up equally among everybody in my apartment tower. I don't much mind paying these fees... I do use the elevators, and appreciate that the stairwells are relatively warm and comfortable when I come in from the cold.<br />
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I'm sure I'm missing a lot here, but this is what I have figured out. I'm sure my eyes will pop out of my head when I get our first bill. Everybody I have spoken with has agreed: electricity is expensive in Korea. And I should do everything I can to reduce our usage of it if I want to be able to spend our money on anything else. Like food. Which is another blog for another day. (Spoiler alert: Yum!)<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-65267614004891276222015-11-17T19:58:00.000-06:002015-11-20T20:02:09.645-06:00TGBKA Day 60: THE SLOW PLANE RIDE TO KOREA (DALLAS FORT WORTH TOINCHEON)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Our flight was delayed by fifteen minutes when we got to the gate. Thank God! Otherwise, we would have had to reenact a scene from one of those romantic movies where the passenger arrives at the gate just moments after the airport employee closes the door to the plane. And we all know (from watching those cheesy romantic movies) that once the doors are shut, there is no reopening them. Can you imagine me running in slow motion to the gate, begging... PLEADING... that they make one exception? Federal laws be damned... </span><i style="text-align: left;">I need to make that flight</i><span style="text-align: left;">! We didn't need to beg... the flight was delayed.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbJvwxV4l8WRX4acgI64f2s4YFPtaTgM6AJRQtsut8XzJgXY-hH6OVwv6WIimB7ALclmOVdFV-tOK_rPssEoT05kMRKGCJrs5W5S6MNuQpaKUVvZlG8faVgSGoacPhkJuqzoMqwDrYvaL/s1600/12235140_10206741149601219_2017183299019940080_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbJvwxV4l8WRX4acgI64f2s4YFPtaTgM6AJRQtsut8XzJgXY-hH6OVwv6WIimB7ALclmOVdFV-tOK_rPssEoT05kMRKGCJrs5W5S6MNuQpaKUVvZlG8faVgSGoacPhkJuqzoMqwDrYvaL/s400/12235140_10206741149601219_2017183299019940080_n.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing in line after we realized our flight was delayed. Looks like we're making it to Korea today after all!</td></tr>
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I put up a status on Facebook asking my friends to bet on how many of my 15 checked bags would make it to Korea with my flight. The layover was too short, in my opinion, for my bags to get unloaded, transported, and loaded on the flight. Several of my friends agreed. Spoiler alert: ALL 15 BAGS MADE IT! At first, my narcissistic self thought the flight was delayed due to the bags that were still being loaded. But after the third delay notice (we ended up being delayed by a full hour) we were told that there was a chair of some sort that was blocking the aisle in Business Class. Thank God for random chairs in Business Class! The girls and I found a little corner at the gate and did some minor yoga. </div>
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When we finally boarded the flight, we got to our seats and settled in for a long day. We were in a row of 5 seats between the aisles, and the girls and I were in the three center seats. There was a poor soul on either side of us that separated us from the aisle. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pXbwXeiyuskXyDqgksHTccU59rtJFztwc-gNXn4gbO823OAnNFj3PFGtb1IS0rPnuNEZ055zQD2ZSW7pXOMZRnwOQV8DfBewafT6KY2t8c457YRpIDHQeL1_BMz4loDRTi7qbF9I0_43/s640/blogger-image-2134682736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pXbwXeiyuskXyDqgksHTccU59rtJFztwc-gNXn4gbO823OAnNFj3PFGtb1IS0rPnuNEZ055zQD2ZSW7pXOMZRnwOQV8DfBewafT6KY2t8c457YRpIDHQeL1_BMz4loDRTi7qbF9I0_43/s640/blogger-image-2134682736.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ear plugs on, seat belts buckled, let's get this flight started!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYA2VngxT6Y2ETkPk6E5zLflJAq4BWB63xJroKw2BqmJKgYEZy2g7fjyHXHr-3usn_D8LDYbwGACZ_CzCf4NRkFdLSgEiJrdeoQk1sD8o4KXOpYK-mNn4StMmkgWsEsLsgmLg8I_Te4lix/s640/blogger-image--410549516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYA2VngxT6Y2ETkPk6E5zLflJAq4BWB63xJroKw2BqmJKgYEZy2g7fjyHXHr-3usn_D8LDYbwGACZ_CzCf4NRkFdLSgEiJrdeoQk1sD8o4KXOpYK-mNn4StMmkgWsEsLsgmLg8I_Te4lix/s400/blogger-image--410549516.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If only she knew what she was so excited for: a whole lot of "no, you can't go run laps up and down the aisles".</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I thought about asking the strangers if they wanted to sit in the middle (little bladders and short attention spans meant we would be bothering them a lot) but for whatever reason I didn't. I wish I had done so... I think the strangers slept the entire flight (except for when we woke them for emergency potty breaks), and we didn't really get to our carry on bags to get all of the entertainment and goodies I had thoughtfully packed. I was able to get our iPads the one time I was bold enough to ask the gentleman for help. Sometimes I'm just too polite for my own comfort.<br />
<br />
The first thing the girls noticed about this plane was the personal televisions. They buckled their seat belts (safety first!) and started playing with the buttons to figure the thing out. The Elder saw that they offered Minions as one of the movies, and the Wee found Despicable Me 2. I sighed a breath of relief when we saw at least 2 movies that they would enjoy. The Wee's touch screen wasn't very sensitive, so she had to basically pound on it to get it to work. Poor fellah in the seat in front of her. He understood.<br />
<br />
We bounced between watching movies and watching the plane's flight path. We talked about the rotation of the Earth, and that we would basically be "chasing the sun" during the whole flight even though we began our flight on Monday morning and would end our flight on Tuesday evening. The girls loved to watch the world move from darkness to light as our flight progressed.<br />
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We discussed the International Date Line, and celebrated when we made the jump from Monday to Tuesday without a sunset. We chatted about the different culture we were about to experience; the food would look and taste different, the city would smell different, the people would have different cultural norms. This last discussion was my "oh crap" idea because I was so focused on <i>getting us to</i> Korea that I forgot to <i>prepare the girls for</i> Korea. Every meal we were offered on the flight had an American option and a Korean option. We decided to get adventurous on the flight and try the Korean option every time. One of us had to order the Korean option, and if the other two didn't think it looked good they could go American. But <br />
we all had to try the Korean option. Here's what we ended up with:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-Bfupv16FTTCPIx_ua0s78Gath_I_MUkGn3ZmfHgxdeqG6plXO_WCaOi4IVeOsq4shAOikOOmc6fSs1-InXBIiYjSWdXaayTxJTF-yN18VIS6vMNSXiqjzTzrWD58StGCzgn45tJ_BgE/s640/blogger-image--627570708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-Bfupv16FTTCPIx_ua0s78Gath_I_MUkGn3ZmfHgxdeqG6plXO_WCaOi4IVeOsq4shAOikOOmc6fSs1-InXBIiYjSWdXaayTxJTF-yN18VIS6vMNSXiqjzTzrWD58StGCzgn45tJ_BgE/s400/blogger-image--627570708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snack. Looks like wine is an international treat. I was very happy to oblige. The girls got apple juice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkh_ta444_Pep1ssuRWrXWSWspwV1_czpxon0bPizOe3-NTUXrL1n6KhcvPbQbWvRU3XSaskQOwpsD_UfRp1AKDKlVE_XrGUoUkdHSounaJms2hAIusTmiNdWD0-0CNyzNTniud8ey-XB/s640/blogger-image-890189910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkh_ta444_Pep1ssuRWrXWSWspwV1_czpxon0bPizOe3-NTUXrL1n6KhcvPbQbWvRU3XSaskQOwpsD_UfRp1AKDKlVE_XrGUoUkdHSounaJms2hAIusTmiNdWD0-0CNyzNTniud8ey-XB/s400/blogger-image-890189910.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meal #1: American Option. The girls chickened out and got the chicken and rice.</td></tr>
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The American chicken and rice was quite tasty. I'll admit: I kind of wished I had ordered it. But I wanted to try the Korean option, and we did make a deal. So I grabbed it, watched the Korean gentleman sitting next to the Elder as he doctored it up for his taste, and followed suit.<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffmj0mo-WzW2_2f1BQiFgv1kfoafv9qDoTxoV95YvqdHTp-U9lmydp-AInT9_-wDrStGRHNoSLlbZla5bX2GQyqdu6O8nA7SUm9CYSNC-6K21vHVRWvca49lZ3PR1QPoPRn5iOUd9MPZE/s1600/12237978_10206763099829961_2833887454792173667_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffmj0mo-WzW2_2f1BQiFgv1kfoafv9qDoTxoV95YvqdHTp-U9lmydp-AInT9_-wDrStGRHNoSLlbZla5bX2GQyqdu6O8nA7SUm9CYSNC-6K21vHVRWvca49lZ3PR1QPoPRn5iOUd9MPZE/s400/12237978_10206763099829961_2833887454792173667_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't want to share a bite with the girls. It was excellent!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkGa7Oznn3BuaRroBSZctBZuj0WEU4lUmn2u_uhbn74SjnzO1jkbCpbnHlPxE6Lnl7hNWTYlpRCLCMgnBC02UGhwM7zGBIWuQCS7CXQdn9HV03Dmk9Vc0Mo7LG-4b19pYNMVAeAc1_Tyu/s640/blogger-image--896312954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkGa7Oznn3BuaRroBSZctBZuj0WEU4lUmn2u_uhbn74SjnzO1jkbCpbnHlPxE6Lnl7hNWTYlpRCLCMgnBC02UGhwM7zGBIWuQCS7CXQdn9HV03Dmk9Vc0Mo7LG-4b19pYNMVAeAc1_Tyu/s400/blogger-image--896312954.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">They did try the kimchi, but weren't quite ready for the spice. I was happy to eat it for them!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJACjJBE2EJ7nZAiZdD8F3A59NniHDH9n-A-Tew1d8lxEaIakCbudRQLhBnddBYnirVppuBiilmmyZKjfDl8T_g4Ytti7LlIVtkceE9lO_ECL4rMpqGGpFe0cbm06xX996Mve57uyxfP2v/s640/blogger-image-688399385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJACjJBE2EJ7nZAiZdD8F3A59NniHDH9n-A-Tew1d8lxEaIakCbudRQLhBnddBYnirVppuBiilmmyZKjfDl8T_g4Ytti7LlIVtkceE9lO_ECL4rMpqGGpFe0cbm06xX996Mve57uyxfP2v/s400/blogger-image-688399385.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meal 2: Noodles and ice cream. Thank goodness for that ice cream! I neglected to read the "spicy" warning on label. We all ordered this, waving off the safe turkey and cheese sandwich. We all regretted that move. Eating this was like licking a campfire.</td></tr>
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NAP TIME!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2UBCq16d0X6kjxrHdgKIOzYurb69cKKPECuLSAt7nvG2NqqC7VXM81dcyKDCGwbMNSDCccGNAW6_r2a0iYi8_4s4laylH8VUSAK7jtN61JZGz3IjBpG6R_feNq0r-mrElzQImB5sxWcE/s640/blogger-image--401169700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2UBCq16d0X6kjxrHdgKIOzYurb69cKKPECuLSAt7nvG2NqqC7VXM81dcyKDCGwbMNSDCccGNAW6_r2a0iYi8_4s4laylH8VUSAK7jtN61JZGz3IjBpG6R_feNq0r-mrElzQImB5sxWcE/s320/blogger-image--401169700.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They'll punish me for this one day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoF7VQTiWZ_JbTEajqDieIOin-G39nQQpWkjId0p_Y0qUrXccZ4yyd8ryzsxghDPoC3MBpFEy8xcTX4Liq7Bnz8xgKLg1dZMRAf0vtpK21uM-Ag8esI5e6CRJ5_uqPhXlEN65dmW9Q3YGn/s640/blogger-image-1216980456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoF7VQTiWZ_JbTEajqDieIOin-G39nQQpWkjId0p_Y0qUrXccZ4yyd8ryzsxghDPoC3MBpFEy8xcTX4Liq7Bnz8xgKLg1dZMRAf0vtpK21uM-Ag8esI5e6CRJ5_uqPhXlEN65dmW9Q3YGn/s320/blogger-image-1216980456.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I'm sure the punishment will be severe!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoF7VQTiWZ_JbTEajqDieIOin-G39nQQpWkjId0p_Y0qUrXccZ4yyd8ryzsxghDPoC3MBpFEy8xcTX4Liq7Bnz8xgKLg1dZMRAf0vtpK21uM-Ag8esI5e6CRJ5_uqPhXlEN65dmW9Q3YGn/s640/blogger-image-1216980456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcxrL4SWIQEuA5oVgs5mV6aeb-koXOlZzEhfPd_RViRLcTQIRJylA3Tuu4ObF3DUqlL_GOgkV2BZt5ODw5pSYdxJHqMFIq32ERNjcz8-v3XJxRW1mJ-VG8F_UngxE_qXT-DJY-odvKnrk/s640/blogger-image-1782144638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcxrL4SWIQEuA5oVgs5mV6aeb-koXOlZzEhfPd_RViRLcTQIRJylA3Tuu4ObF3DUqlL_GOgkV2BZt5ODw5pSYdxJHqMFIq32ERNjcz8-v3XJxRW1mJ-VG8F_UngxE_qXT-DJY-odvKnrk/s400/blogger-image-1782144638.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The iPads were a big success!</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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We were doing super well until about an hour before we hit the International Date Line. Suddenly, my legs were tingly from lack of movement, my hips ached, my back was tight... and the girls were ready to start bouncing off the walls from inactivity. We woke up our Seat Neighbors and walked to the back of the plane. The girls decided to ask every question known to man to the flight attendants, and I did some stretches. That got us settled down some, and we made our way back to the seats.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x58fFVSponrKH15pV1HHF9Z_GaCrv_ShbQ3w6dPoH2E12K0GX-ErsT0DEqx9sO-ygiadsz6BJQJvMqgZcGcM5o1rkd-K4NEsFr4pUqRE6ljXh2ZCoHzT9f8ofNiofvpx-Pz47BOEAclN/s1600/12244788_10206763325475602_805996437202241830_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x58fFVSponrKH15pV1HHF9Z_GaCrv_ShbQ3w6dPoH2E12K0GX-ErsT0DEqx9sO-ygiadsz6BJQJvMqgZcGcM5o1rkd-K4NEsFr4pUqRE6ljXh2ZCoHzT9f8ofNiofvpx-Pz47BOEAclN/s400/12244788_10206763325475602_805996437202241830_o.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The eyes were getting heavy...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJBQ-9-gqH74tN9Fz0VsFUGhY44gywL7-mp1yGW5PWttGwHA-Qwn2HB1nPghzxG8A3FQlAvrH34p5b7xGMOUiUw-n1Qlf88HZJXFqdfCvgcueW1MHE5UiekQVhpBh4ZJwm70NIKSfDqJf/s1600/12241073_10206763325435601_4114427707651809647_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJBQ-9-gqH74tN9Fz0VsFUGhY44gywL7-mp1yGW5PWttGwHA-Qwn2HB1nPghzxG8A3FQlAvrH34p5b7xGMOUiUw-n1Qlf88HZJXFqdfCvgcueW1MHE5UiekQVhpBh4ZJwm70NIKSfDqJf/s400/12241073_10206763325435601_4114427707651809647_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and power naps were had.</td></tr>
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We eventually landed. As our plane made it's way to the gate, I coached the girls on what we would do next. We had no layover, but the people around us did. Rather than rushing to get off the plane (and clogging up the system for those who had tight schedules like we had in Texas), we decided to intentionally be the last people off the plane. We took our time, and made sure we didn't leave anything behind. And we meandered our way to Sweet Baboo.<br />
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My biggest challenge was just ahead: picking up my 15 checked bags, and carrying it (along with our 5 carry-on bags) through customs with two kids.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCH0TNs6vWXa3fM5y9IGUxl99zUy44Yo2l4RgeEfruAyzcXYrA7nAp6X16QHAguMUhC27hm7IRZ-wG7pH6HkPFRxsVrJcaMhAi0qpZLaCSK07Ced_IKItZRsRjA0GCrVY-JjY0qhsMMN1Q/s640/blogger-image--2082269032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCH0TNs6vWXa3fM5y9IGUxl99zUy44Yo2l4RgeEfruAyzcXYrA7nAp6X16QHAguMUhC27hm7IRZ-wG7pH6HkPFRxsVrJcaMhAi0qpZLaCSK07Ced_IKItZRsRjA0GCrVY-JjY0qhsMMN1Q/s400/blogger-image--2082269032.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ALL OF THE BAGS ARRIVED ON TIME! And my big helpers were amazing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When we got to customs, one guy did help with one of the carts. That last 30 yards was a beast, and I was more than grateful for the help. But as soon as we went through the doors, the girls saw their daddy, and the customs agent needed to stay in customs, so I was left with three heavy carts and the chaos of greeting an old friend, a new one, and MY SWEET BABOO! Life was good.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-2592305921622751052015-11-16T17:47:00.000-06:002015-11-20T17:49:42.621-06:00TGBKA Day 60: THE SLOW PLANE RIDE TO KOREA (PENSACOLA TO DALLAS FORT WORTH)<div class="MsoNormal">
We woke up at 0330 in Florida. My amazing inlaws were up before we were; they were dressed and ready to help with the insanity that was about to ensue. I was running around like a crazy lady, gathering up the final items to put in our luggage (put in the pajamas, pull out the jackets, pack up the charging cords for the five million i-devices we own, etc.) and the girls were giddy with exhausted excitement. The Elder popped out of bed like a Jack in the Box and was off in an instant. The Wee, on the other hand, woke slowly with the desire to discuss in detail every plane trip she has been on and inquire about how this one would differ. We all tried to put a little something on our tummies since we weren’t sure what would be open at the terminal and we knew our layover would be very stressful; but really, how hungry can a person be at 0330?</div>
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We got to the airport with our 15 checked bags, our 5 carry on bags, my 2 inlaws, my 2 babies, and not quite enough caffeine in my system. I was ready: I had all of our dependent ID cards inside our passports, I had Sweet Baboo’s orders taking <i>him</i> to Korea, our first set of amended orders authorizing the Command Sponsorship (but denying us travel until Sweet Baboo got us an apartment), and the final amended orders authorizing us to travel. I had our confirmed travel itinerary, and the boarding passes I had printed up the night before. I even made notes when I checked in on what the weather would be like when we arrived in Dallas Ft. Worth airport (in case we had to take a tiny plane that wouldn’t dock directly at the gate and we would have to huff it in the weather outside), and the weather in Korea (so we could be prepared for the trip to our friend’s house).<o:p></o:p></div>
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I approached the ticket counter with our load and smiled internally when other passengers couldn’t hold their shocked looks from showing. The employees at the ticket counter were nothing short of amazing. They listened to my quick explanation: we’re travelling on official orders, I have called American Airlines three times in the last two weeks to verify our checked baggage allotment, I have 5 bags per person, etc. They were encouraging and thoughtful. And they allowed me to check the bags in the order <i>I</i> wanted to check them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That last point is very important. When traveling with 15 bags, I find it to be rather important to keep a list of the bags (itemized to coordinate with the numbers on each bag: 1 of 15, 2 of 15, 3 of 15, etc.). I wanted to make sure the bags were labeled in the order I numbered them. For the most part, it was successful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The four of us were a well-oiled machine! Mom pointed out the next numbered bag for me to lift and put on the scale. Gentleman Employee weighed the luggage for me and didn’t lose his patience when I wanted to write the weight down on my list. Lady employee stuck her fancy stickers on the luggage and Gentleman Employee moved the piece to the conveyor belt behind him. Rinse, repeat… 14 more times. It was glorious!<o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it to security with not a single hiccup, and it was suddenly time to give hugs and kisses to Mom and Pops. With the excitement of moving forward to get the trip started, I never remember to vocalize the super mushy, overly sentimental words that I have in my heart for my family. Sometimes, “I love you and appreciate you dearly” just has to be enough… even though my heart says it’s just the beginning. Mom and Pops understood, and we got in line to clear security.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Elder is 9 and the Wee is 5. I decided that they could handle holding their own tickets and passports while we waited in line. They did splendidly! We watched the passengers ahead of us as they waited for the TSA employee to beckon them. Then we discussed what we saw happen next: the passenger handed over his ticket <i>and</i> his passport, waited, and moved to the conveyor belt to put his stuff through the x-ray. The line wasn’t long, but there were enough people ahead of us for the girls to fully understand the flow of things when it was our turn. When Mr. TSA called us forward, the girls were giddy and giggly as they handed over their documents. His comments were kind and encouraging to the girls, and we left with high spirits that this would be an excellent day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After clearing the x-ray area, the Wee got sidetracked by the full body scan machine. We didn’t have to go through it, and she was very interested in what was happening inside. I let her watch one passenger clear that area before I guided her to the window that separated us from Mom and Pops. We posed for one last photo, blew some kisses, and headed to our terminal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHs8-LM4m9wSFqgGHyRlEHKQLKtG8b30ik9TYYnoG7SaGYktzcDvbKEzPit1NG22avjuooOxKzupFMOhAH3EXcHTzwPdDAf7YljlguFLBDL0TpaFZ2FAIf7tI-2w8edM9P-7MsezvAA3tU/s1600/12241784_1072959469382072_5727442611073718720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHs8-LM4m9wSFqgGHyRlEHKQLKtG8b30ik9TYYnoG7SaGYktzcDvbKEzPit1NG22avjuooOxKzupFMOhAH3EXcHTzwPdDAf7YljlguFLBDL0TpaFZ2FAIf7tI-2w8edM9P-7MsezvAA3tU/s400/12241784_1072959469382072_5727442611073718720_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Photo courtesy of Mom. If you look hard enough, you can see her beautiful reflection in the glass. Thanks, Mom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We got to the gate 2 full hours before we were scheduled to take off. We found a cozy spot next to the window so we could watch the sun rise and keep an eye on our plane, and sat silently for a spell. A little boy with a prosthetic leg sat in the chair behind the Wee, and the Elder asked his family if they were going to Korea as well. The little boy was no older than the Wee, and his sister was even younger than he. The family was going to Hawaii, and I saw a very temporary, very mild look of envy on the Elder’s face when she got the news. She wants to surf again, and meet Bethany Hamilton (Soul Surfer), so Hawaii is on her “Duty Station Desires Before Daddy Retires” list.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Wee was not quiet when she asked me if I saw “the little boy with the ‘thing’ on his leg”. I was not quiet when I responded with, “Yes I did! Did you introduce yourself? Maybe he would like a friend to talk with before the flight.” The Wee bashfully shook her head and got really quiet. I softened my voice a little, but was still loud enough for the little boy to hear when I said, “Do you know what that thing is on his leg?” And then the Wee, the Elder, and I had a discussion about prosthetic limbs and how absolutely cool they are. I don’t know if the boy was bashful, or tired, or embarrassed, but I didn’t want him to think that we thought any less of him because he was different. He got the message.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At one point, I looked down at our boarding passes and realized that we would be departing our first flight just as our connecting flight was starting to board. I took those boarding passes to the gate crew and asked what could be done about it. I was told that the terminals and gates were subject to change several times during our initial flight so planning our escape route now was not going to work. But he put in a request for one of those motorized vehicles to meet us at the gate and take us to our next gate quicker. But when we had to gate-check two of our carry on bags I knew the layover would be crazy. And it was.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_iKF3WMTfM6EyKXavlyXYCJmo8wg80BC6Iyo9uI_9hb_Xr8_VbD2jTeNXAoSv6gYZcI9aOEawAz361-xoRortW3SgoVka79UdM2Fdx01TOgOGbobgyRvZOHZvyeQaTH9hDqPV79f8ICb/s1600/12241494_10206740559746473_8353526469525761672_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_iKF3WMTfM6EyKXavlyXYCJmo8wg80BC6Iyo9uI_9hb_Xr8_VbD2jTeNXAoSv6gYZcI9aOEawAz361-xoRortW3SgoVka79UdM2Fdx01TOgOGbobgyRvZOHZvyeQaTH9hDqPV79f8ICb/s400/12241494_10206740559746473_8353526469525761672_n.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Our reactions when we saw the time table ahead of us. Me: visibly stressed. Elder: shocked and she doesn't know why. Wee: completely oblivious</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We bounce-landed, which got the girls’ attentions. We giggled at the sensation the bounce gave us, and the girls were eager to move to our next plane. But DFW is a large airport, and after landing we still had a ten minute taxi to the gate. Suddenly, I had the song “God Blessed Texas” in my head and couldn’t keep myself from singing it to the girls to distract them. The other passengers weren’t amused when the girls sang the chorus for the hundredth time in under five minutes. Then out of nowhere, the Wee giggled loudly and exclaimed for all of the plane to hear, “Mommy! I just farted!” We couldn’t get to the gate quickly enough.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oVsxjqZnhVvEvXfr_Agja3568pJb9DplIem6vfmrKv3ZuNy-Z95I5r37WtvULJbzj00Q16zfUNbCDjNhQA8Z0BuX7PslWsUbXvwXWCSQSH4oKGJJ_L_SzHt6Cz9BfUpukGKfN1chkFFX/s1600/12219326_10206740994637345_1875658762529894522_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oVsxjqZnhVvEvXfr_Agja3568pJb9DplIem6vfmrKv3ZuNy-Z95I5r37WtvULJbzj00Q16zfUNbCDjNhQA8Z0BuX7PslWsUbXvwXWCSQSH4oKGJJ_L_SzHt6Cz9BfUpukGKfN1chkFFX/s400/12219326_10206740994637345_1875658762529894522_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Bounce landings are better than crash landings!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I coached the girls on how the next twenty minutes would go: when they turn off the fasten seat belts sign, they were to stay in their seats while I moved to the aisle to get our bags down from the overhead compartment. Then they would load up with their respective bags and we would head out to get our gate-checked bags. I warned them that the gate-checked bags would take us a few minutes and that they would need to be patient.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When we got off the plane, we stood in line to get our bags. A lady who worked for the airport walked by and I grabbed her attention. I explained to her that we were waiting for our gate-checked bags but our next flight was already boarding according to our next boarding passes. She told us to follow her to the front of the line. She told us to grab our gate-checked bags and then just stared at us. I asked her if she were able to radio for a cart to come get us from the gate and drive us to the next one. She stared at us. I asked her if she could help me… she stared at me. The staring was maddening. I finally said, "Look. I don't have time for you to stand there and stare at me. Are you going to help me or not?" She started in on what looked like a SpunkySoul length explanation, and I just didn't have that kind of time. So I politely cut her off: "Excuse me, ma'am... yes or no?" She said no and we moved on.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I looked down at the girls and all I had to say was this: "Girls, be the Jammer. See that pack? Bust right through it. We're heading for the Skylink. Wee, you lead the way. Elder, follow right behind her. I'll bring up the rear. Get us through!" The twinkle in their eyes was unmistakable. It's as if they had trained for this moment over the past two years. And boy, did they get us through the pack! I was the slow one... lugging the heavy bags and trying to keep up. </div>
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By the time we made it to the Skylink, we had forgotten the actual gate we needed to get to. There were two stops for the terminal we needed, so we made a game plan: get off at the first stop and re-check our gate. If it's the wrong one, haul ass to the correct gate. As we were making our game plan, an amazing human being was listening. He was in a wheel chair and had a young airport employee assisting him through the airport. He looked up at his "handler" and said, "You ready to haul ass with them?" I looked over at them, and they both nodded at each other. His handler asked me where we were headed, looked at my boarding pass, and said to me, "We'll help you." I was so relieved to have somebody there that cared!</div>
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The Universe was ready for us to get to Korea. Awesome Handler Dude parted the packs of people with Wheelchair Dude. Wheelchair Dude shouted things like "Coming through. You really need to move out of our way!" The girls were giggling and trying their best to keep up. I was thanking every deity we have ever studied in our homeschool adventures for what we were experiencing. In no time, we found ourselves at the end of the very long line of people who were preparing to board our flight. I caught my breath, counted the kids and the carry on bags (to make sure we didn't have any slackers in our convoy) and turned to Wheel Chair Dude. "You're a lifesaver! Thank you so much. Wait. Are you going to be late for your flight?" He offered the biggest smile that could possibly fit on his face and replied with, "Nope. I have a 90 minute layover." I thanked his handler and looked up at the information screen. Flight delayed.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-4653937028860951992015-11-08T16:05:00.000-06:002015-11-20T16:11:31.312-06:00TGBKA Day 45: 17 PAGES AND NOT ONE F-BOMB DROPPED...<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I'm really hoping this will be my final installment on The
Passport Lady. Honestly, I kind of feel like this blog has been one big whine-fest
about her, and I am quite tired of dealing with her. I'm tired of talking about
her. I'm tired of even thinking about her. But I have had a couple dozen people
ask for an update so here we go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">First, I wanted to let some time lapse between when I had had
enough and when I wrote about it on here. My fuse is long; I can put up with a
lot of nonsense. But when things get absolutely stupid, I can't take it
anymore. And things got that stupid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On Day 28, I was running through my PCS checklist as usual. I
couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the no-fee passports simply were not
going to make it back to me in time, so I emailed Passport Lady. I explained to
her that the 6-8 week process time happened right when we were going to leave
our current duty station for a short vacation. I asked her what would happen to
our original documents that I needed to submit in the application process, and
our no-fee passports, should we need to leave before the passports arrive. I
informed her that I had already applied for our tourist passports, and we were
authorized to travel on them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She wrote me back the next day telling me that we couldn't leave
the country before the passports arrive. She also told me to not worry; I would
simply have to change my flights to accommodate the situation. Seriously. She
said that. I asked her several times, over several email interactions, why I
couldn't leave. She would never answer my question. Instead I was told several
times, over several email interactions, that she couldn't tell me when I could
expect the passports to arrive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At one point, she asked me for a copy of my power of attorney from
Sweet Baboo. I told her that I had already submitted that, and let her know
that I knew it wouldn't suffice for our purposes. I also explained to her that
I had a digital copy of the 3053, but that the State Department wouldn't take
it for a permanent passport. As a result, I got a tourist passport on a temporary
basis with a strict deadline. I need to file the proper paperwork when we get
to Korea because of our extenuating circumstances. She responded by asking if I
could get Sweet Baboo to send over an original power of attorney that
authorized me to get passports for the girls. Frustrated at the stupidity of
that question (the 3053 is essentially just that... and I had told her several
times that we were not able to get original documents from Sweet Baboo in
enough time), I wrote to the Post Commander. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now before you get all judgmental on me, I don't run to the CO
every time I have an issue. I literally waited until an Active Duty Major, a
Retired CWO-4, a Retired LTC, an Active Duty CWO-2, the wife of a Retired COL,
and the wife of a CSM told me that the CO needed to hear my story before I ever
considered going to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Colonel is a lovely man. I never felt foolish or whiny for
bringing this situation to his attention. I didn't feel like his brain was
elsewhere when I was speaking to him. I felt like he was listening with both
ears, and considering all avenues to help me with my problem. Mine was a 20-minute
appointment on his schedule, so when I left his office 75 minutes after we
started talking I felt bad. He asked two gentlemen to accompany me to
the Passport Office to clear up any miscommunication and get things moving. The
two gentlemen were very supportive of my plight, and they assured me that I was
not the first to have problems with Passport Lady. When I asked if I was the
first to bring it to the CO's attention, they couldn't answer that question. I
dropped it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When we arrived at her office, Passport Lady was especially
colorful in her attitude. Luckily for me, she made my stories to the COL and my
two new buddies seem like I was <i>under </i>describing the
situation. Had I not had my two new buds with me, I'm quite sure a few f-bombs
would have been dropped... along with a few throat-punches. But I had two
people who were there to support me, and who spoke for the COL, so I just
needed to look at one of them and ask for help when she got foolish. And
foolish she got!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At one point, she asked me where my common sense was (as she was
literally waving her head in my face). She all but shouted to me that she would
forward my documents directly to my apartment in Korea if they arrived after we
left. When I asked if she had our forwarding address she said no (with no further response). I asked her
if she would prefer that I email the address, or write it down... she stared at
me. My buddies had to remind her <i>several times</i> that she <u>had
to answer my questions.</u> She continued to dodge my questions outwardly
by asking about the shirt I was wearing, “That is a really pretty shirt! Why
are your thumbs poking out of holes in the end?” and telling me that I was her
top priority. Again, she told me that she didn’t know when everything would be
finalized. Buddy #1 firmly stated that she needed to stop dodging my questions
and do things to be helpful. She slammed down the paper for me to write down
our forwarding address, stormed around her office, and continued to outwardly
refuse to be helpful unless we forced her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As Buddy #1 started talking to her, she got up and walked out of
the office without saying a word to him. She returned with a gentleman who
waved at us to follow him. We all crammed into his little office and he asked that
we fill him in on what was going on. Buddy #1 started describing what he had
just witnessed and Passport Lady cut him off. New Fellah asked her to not
interrupt so Buddy #1 could finish his story. She literally told him, "No.
I won't. I could lose my job over this, and I want to make sure the right story
is told." They went back and forth for several moments before New Fellah
finally asked Passport Lady to leave his office. Shockingly, she refused to
leave. Another few moments of going back and forth passed before she
reluctantly exited the office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was confused as to who the heck New Fellah was, and why we were
in his office. I didn’t dare ask because Passport Lady was doing a fantastic
job of proving my points to everybody in the room. But New Fellah obviously had
no authority over Passport Lady (otherwise she wouldn’t have been so outwardly
rude to him, and she would not have refused his requests). But we were in his
office, discussing Passport Lady at <u>her</u> request, so he had to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">somebody</i>… right? To this day I’m still
confused. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Even after Passport Lady insulted me by asking where my common
sense was, she still proceeded to prove her lack of competencies at her job.
New Fellah told me that according to law, they could not forward my documents directly
to my apartment in Korea when they came back from the State Department. I had
two options, though:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1. The Passport Office can forward all documents and the no-fee
passports to the Passport Office in Korea when they arrive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2. Have a friend pick up the documents and ship them to my
apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Never mind the logic in this. A friend can send everything to me
directly, but the Passport Office can’t? But I suddenly had to decide which of
my friends I wanted to subject to the abuse and blatant disrespect of the
Passport Lady. One person came to mind… she is still on Active Duty and takes
crap from nobody. But the idea of subjecting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">any</i> friend of mine (regardless of how strong-minded, and full of
authority they are) to this unnecessary step just seemed like superfluous
abuse. And after some thought, I really didn’t think Passport Lady needed to
have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">anything</i> to do with my
application or personal documents any more. So on Day 45 I wrote another letter to the
COL. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Y’all, it was 17 pages. Single spaced. In 10 point font. I had a
lot to say, and I wanted to make sure he had the opportunity to know the <u>entire</u>
story. I copied emails, gave details of in-person communications, and offered
my opinions. Because of the length of the letter, and the knowledge that the COL
is a very busy man with many things on his plate, I gave a BLUF (Bottom Line Up
Front). I’ll copy it and paste it for you here:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red;">I have zero trust in
[Passport Lady’s] capabilities to perform her job as it pertains to our
situation. She has told me several times that she is not a Subject Matter
Expert, and her knowledge of how to perform the duties within the scope of her
job proves this to be true. I would like to request that another qualified
employee follows up and finalizes the paperwork needed to obtain no-fee
passports for my children and myself. If the need arises, I would be happy to
work with the passport office in [our next duty station in Korea] (or any
surrounding passport office in that area). I would also encourage you to
evaluate [Passport Lady’s] behavior in her job, along with her reputation on
Redstone Arsenal, and decide if she is the best fit for the position she fills.</span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Truly, if Passport Lady’s attitude and lack of effectiveness
in her job can be fixed with some training, I would be pleased if her superiors
would simply train her. I know that payroll is an expensive line in the budget,
and having a high employee turnover means you spend more time searching for
qualified employees than you do letting them do their job. So if I hear that
Passport Lady is in the same job in 2 years, but is doing a much better job
because of proper training and counseling, I’ll be happy. I wasn’t out to get
her fired (unless her superiors had done everything they could before I had my
experiences with her)… I was simply trying to ensure the Leadership knew how
difficult the task of getting no-fee passports was, and I wanted to allow them
the opportunity to fix the situation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After sending the 17-page email (with not one single f-bomb…
I’m seriously proud of that) I realized how much I just wanted to get to Korea
and finish this process there. I did not want to have Passport Lady’s office
handle our no-fee applications at all, regardless of whether she was involved
or not. So when the COL emailed me back to inform me that Passport Lady’s
supervisor was briefed on the situation, and to expect an email from him, I had
made up my mind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The gentleman who emailed me back was not New Fellah, though
New Fellah was assigned my case. It doesn’t fall into his current job
description, but he is qualified to assist me with my application because he
was trained in the process by the State Department. When I gave him a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very</i> brief backstory on where I thought
we were in the process, I neglected to put anything in about Passport Lady
except to say that she is to have absolutely nothing to do with our
applications. I asked a few questions and got very prompt and helpful answers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my questions was this: Can I just put the process on
hold for a week and pick everything up where we left off when we get to Korea?
I’m more than happy to head over to the Embassy <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">with my husband in tow</i> so that he can personally sign all documents
and we can get past this catastrophe. (For the record, I did not refer to the
situation as a catastrophe to New Fellah… though I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> thinking about it as I typed my letter). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His initial response
to this idea was to tell me that we would have to start the process all over if
we were to do that. In all honesty, I was perfectly happy to follow that path!
I just needed to know one thing: would the State Department send our
applications and original documents to us in Korea so we could start all over,
or could we just put in a reference number somewhere so they knew which
employee was holding our originals when they got our documents. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day after I asked about the documents as they pertained
to starting over in Korea, I got a call from New Fellah. He was shocked to hear
that the State Department wouldn’t make us start all over in Korea. They saw in
our file that we had extenuating circumstances for our tourist passports, and
connected the dots that those were the same extenuating circumstances for our
no-fees. But rather than trying to rush to get us temporary no-fee passports
before we were supposed to leave, they said to just head to the Embassy and use
the reference numbers. They would be happy to receive a digital copy of the
3053 <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">if it came from the Embassy
directly.</i> We would simply have to make sure the applicable reference
numbers were attached. New Fellah kept saying over and over again that he had
never heard of this type of exception to policy happening. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I asked him for the reference numbers, he told me that
he didn’t know them. He would have to seek out Passport Lady to find out what
they were. He mentioned that if she didn’t have them in her files, she would
have to call the State Department to get them. I apologized to New Fellah as I
cut him off, then firmly (yet kindly) reminded him that Passport Lady does not
have the authority to speak on our behalf to the State Department, nor is she
to have any further access to our applications. If she has the appropriate
reference numbers in an email from the State Department, New Fellah could ask
that she give them to her. But if she says she doesn’t have anything, New
Fellah would have to make the call. He respected my stance on the situation and
we hung up. Thirty minutes later, I received an email with the reference
numbers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
New Fellah was a pleasure to work with; his professionalism
shined through as he was asked to step away from his typical duties to fill in
for Passport Lady. He was thorough in his responses, and he listened to me when
I had questions or comments. I hope my request to finish everything in Korea
didn’t come off as mistrust for <i>his</i> abilities; I had other things that I was
dealing with (pack out, kids in Florida, etc.) that needed my attention more.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-45989397700488796962015-10-23T12:42:00.001-05:002015-10-23T12:43:31.571-05:00TGBKA Day 36: Coping MechanismsSweet Baboo has learned the signs for when I need to cope. First, I get <i>super</i> involved. I sign up for every volunteer position I can get my hands on, and dive in head first with helping out. The calendar gets so full that I actually have to schedule sleep and showers in there... or else I'll forget both. I will make my way through my days with a determined twinkle in my eyes, and a pep in my step. I generally get this way when <u>I feel like something major is happening, and I have absolutely no control</u>. It's my way to feeling like I'm in control of <i>something</i>. And I get sidetracked with the awesomeness of giving back to my community in some way. Win!<br />
<br />
I got super involved when Sweet Baboo got orders to Korea without us. I signed up for almost every volunteer opportunity I could find, and filled our calendar from July (when Sweet Baboo left) until January (when we were hoping he could take his mid-tour leave). I became a member of various Boards of Directors, Committees, and Executive Committees. I reached out to my friends who are Race Directors and verified that I could remain their Volunteer Coordinator, Packet Pickup Coordinator, and other various jobs. I was completely out of control, and I was absolutely in love with the full calendar we had!<br />
<br />
Thank God for friends who understand priorities. As soon as I got word that we got our Exception to Policy I was elated! When I got our orders, and read the 60 day deadline, my heart sank. I hated feeling like I was letting my friends down by leaving. Thankfully Sweet Baboo knew that my heart wasn't torn; he understood that I was simply disappointed that I would not be able to fill the spots that I had volunteered for. And with each phone call/meeting/email that I sent out explaining the situation, the response was unanimous: "SpunkySoul, go! Do <i>not</i> worry about this position. We will fill it. You deserve to be with Sweet Baboo, so stop what you're doing and make that happen!" Okay, those aren't direct quotes... but those were the sentiments of every person I was working for. And my heart swelled.<br />
<br />
My second coping mechanism is to organize. I cannot operate in a chaotic world without at least the most basic form of order in place. But even the most basic form of order can only hold me over until I can dig in and get things super organized. I have watched many movies where cowboys herd cows from one place to another, and I seriously cringe until every cow is in the new place. There's a reason why I'm no cowgirl: rather than branding the cows and prepping them for slaughter, I'd spend my days training the cows to walk in ranks with straight lines. That way I could keep an eye on each of them, making sure none wandered off. Nobody would eat steak because I would be too busy training their steak to stay in their ranks. Another reason why I so loved the order and discipline that came with being a Soldier!<br />
<br />
After reading <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/They-Learn-Cynthia-Ulrich-Tobias/dp/1561794147" target="_blank">The Way They Learn</a></i>, I have come to realize that I am a concrete sequential thinker. I do have abstract tendencies, and there are times when I have to intentionally make things random before I can organize them, but when Sweet Baboo and I read that book we laughed so hard our sides hurt when we read the description of the concrete sequential thinker:<br />
<br />
"When presented with an abstract idea, Concrete Sequentials have a special talent for seeing the practical side of an issue" (p. 30).<br />
<br />
"CS parents almost always have high expectations when it comes to their children's behavior and academic success" (p. 32).<br />
<br />
"They are usually very organized, specific, and conscientious. They may ask repeatedly for clarification or more detailed instructions because of their need to be sure they are doing things right" (p. 34).<br />
<br />
Seriously people... it's like the author wrote the entire chapter with me in mind. So when I start to feel like my world is becoming chaotic, the first thing I do is sit down and think out ways to organize it. You remember my <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-setting.html" target="_blank">notebook</a>? That's just the beginning! In fact, that's only the <i>concrete</i> <i>evidence</i> of my sequential thinking. And that's only what I take the time to sit down and write out. If you only knew the storm of organizing that brews in my brain you'd dig yourselves a cellar, stock it well, and camp out indefinitely.<br />
<br />
For the first time since we got married (10 years ago), I am going through every single room to organize our stuff. Long story short, Sweet Baboo kept getting deployed, or going to long schools away from home (or long TDYs). I didn't like the idea of sorting through his stuff and deciding what could stay and what needed to go without his being there. So when we moved into our tiny town home our idea of "merging" our lives was to open the boxes with the super important stuff in it and <i>shove</i> the boxes we didn't have an immediate need to open in the garage. That method got us through two duty stations and five houses. When we moved to RSA we made the conscious effort to get rid of stuff.<br />
<br />
Guys... it was bad. For an entire year (our second year here) we had friends and neighbors stop by the house and ask if we were moving already. You can always tell who is about to PCS because theirs is the fullest garbage can at the curb, and they're making several trips to the "donation hole". Theirs is the house that is selling stuff. So when 3 out of 4 weeks per month had piles and piles of trash sitting at the curb, the neighbors started to think we were moving. But we weren't. We were simply donating what we had an abundance of (Army uniforms, furniture, etc.) and tossing what couldn't get donated (why did we keep every bill we paid from the first four years of our marriage???). We were in purge mode, but it seemed like every step forward in the organization efforts made us take several steps back. Inevitably, we would have to get a whole new set of uniforms (Sweet Baboo is about to purchase his fourth style of combat uniform in the 15 years of service he has!) or we would get involved in a new hobby (Goodbye golf clubs... and shoes... and cleaning gear. Hello triathlon swag!).<br />
<br />
When Sweet Baboo went to Korea, he gave me carte blanche authority to get rid of anything I felt like, so long as I was respectful of the sentimental things he wished to keep. I know him well enough now (as opposed to in our first year of marriage) to make such decisions, but that doesn't stop me from taking a million photos and posting them on our <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/10/tgbka-staying-organized.html" target="_blank">organization page</a> to <i>make sure</i> I can get rid of stuff. I'm so blessed to have a husband who <i>gets</i> that I <u>need</u> his participation in these matters. So when he says "I don't care", he isn't being uninvolved... he truly doesn't care.<br />
<br />
In the past two days, I have accomplished the biggest feat yet: our garage. We have had a clean garage several times since we have moved here, but it was never organized. Everything was in "organized" piles... but the boxes needed to be gone through. I'll admit that I will probably not get the chance to go through <i>every</i> box before we move to Korea; but the boxes I won't be able to go through with the fine-tooth comb that I'd like to use are the ones with his (and my) official military records and documents. I have big plans to organize those documents, so they'll go to Korea and be a big project for me to undertake.<br />
<br />
The Wee wanted to help. Here was her idea of "helping":<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKzV-QQKEF-CH0eyTB8MqYhHdCpGwHAzPpx1bjk_N-XjkutxjZptmFno-nuLFMi32Uz9Bp0fRy49LwWGOnRn2Bvjw5yf8-ISRfOPNR8pSJ3baAPIsYsneDin4TcdPQ2dnTULwHyAjEGZE/s1600/IMG_4796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKzV-QQKEF-CH0eyTB8MqYhHdCpGwHAzPpx1bjk_N-XjkutxjZptmFno-nuLFMi32Uz9Bp0fRy49LwWGOnRn2Bvjw5yf8-ISRfOPNR8pSJ3baAPIsYsneDin4TcdPQ2dnTULwHyAjEGZE/s400/IMG_4796.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her daddy taught her that sometimes it's more help when you "help by not helping". She opted to evoke the HBNH mentality today.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-VN4trFJziMGVRwe04S5q-jBmkIhWbcjo0kx2exJgN6W8SgA1rpezWF9OO8ou8LD5arO7QuE7fQq5b38fyX64SS6UJzYkzuUOC7gmEuQoHO9M8ZYX6tyAdlx-Xf1Ns5-_LkGgY-wq8sq/s1600/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-VN4trFJziMGVRwe04S5q-jBmkIhWbcjo0kx2exJgN6W8SgA1rpezWF9OO8ou8LD5arO7QuE7fQq5b38fyX64SS6UJzYkzuUOC7gmEuQoHO9M8ZYX6tyAdlx-Xf1Ns5-_LkGgY-wq8sq/s400/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We will miss our lovely yard!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here's what I started with:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YvvJFAGWZc8mCw6rgyatfAFinGhH6_YXX1p26dh4qHvPt5x73I87uOiDRykbz7h85qvxVwK5-crtQPujGtRUDdzZ-VlEL6Hu0m91csXmqDS50f7JgOmKRpmv_6JfaLsCMRZj0BwMO0jd/s1600/IMG_4798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YvvJFAGWZc8mCw6rgyatfAFinGhH6_YXX1p26dh4qHvPt5x73I87uOiDRykbz7h85qvxVwK5-crtQPujGtRUDdzZ-VlEL6Hu0m91csXmqDS50f7JgOmKRpmv_6JfaLsCMRZj0BwMO0jd/s400/IMG_4798.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So. Much. Stuff.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlLbONTiJNJ4YE7qUjQe7SvQoZrF5w9o7qPrP67WmykBmWdm-gx9TIa2RyB8EgidSgR0iIoiYeywmGazdPU3mtHocTcHs5IS6AvkFVPq6DfBhvzOihxdoC_BpDPDZPhWuT_9rJkqqomqd/s1600/IMG_4797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlLbONTiJNJ4YE7qUjQe7SvQoZrF5w9o7qPrP67WmykBmWdm-gx9TIa2RyB8EgidSgR0iIoiYeywmGazdPU3mtHocTcHs5IS6AvkFVPq6DfBhvzOihxdoC_BpDPDZPhWuT_9rJkqqomqd/s400/IMG_4797.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why don't we throw anything away?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5aVw83dlnh_M3w-b_8wWuPsPcMVjhnqRGQg0VblZFUv2WQX3i0tRwQdWbZ-ZIxBYlNHqhYbDZehOng3ajWOxvWMSMPZaR4kpWTtJMlxbOy_bkP8wtYcS2bo40iYrxIWu8nBR3yd7ZAqq/s1600/IMG_4799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5aVw83dlnh_M3w-b_8wWuPsPcMVjhnqRGQg0VblZFUv2WQX3i0tRwQdWbZ-ZIxBYlNHqhYbDZehOng3ajWOxvWMSMPZaR4kpWTtJMlxbOy_bkP8wtYcS2bo40iYrxIWu8nBR3yd7ZAqq/s400/IMG_4799.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids have decided that the shelves are their personal grocery store... but they don't put anything back on the shelves!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibto-yyvfKtGkk0aw3MmdHBRq6PhIP015A30bvrY5cDKVphjFgI40W9VpVQiuHq-XZF6vrsrqR6xGEu959qqkU2Yxtv5BXpsdJhXD91VnwW4qTD04AP19Xert3tsPcGjCzjcqKsqh4HUjE/s1600/IMG_4800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibto-yyvfKtGkk0aw3MmdHBRq6PhIP015A30bvrY5cDKVphjFgI40W9VpVQiuHq-XZF6vrsrqR6xGEu959qqkU2Yxtv5BXpsdJhXD91VnwW4qTD04AP19Xert3tsPcGjCzjcqKsqh4HUjE/s400/IMG_4800.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just do my best to avoid this section as much as possible. And this was taken after hours of clearing already!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I can't spend all of my time organizing. For some reason the sweet children desire entertainment, and food, and education, and... and... and... So here's what I balanced cleaning with:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-zi2PoQrrDcHSo_yaDXKujsL74l-1DBvSMMgoEkVKHWekyrYZpDru-6oL6FwFbNhmiC9f8wixokGjn1blaJLnQLlEHeYlJiZAeApJjM2wPTENurDBybek_p_ERdzUjx-dFkbMfGD2hzP/s1600/IMG_4840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-zi2PoQrrDcHSo_yaDXKujsL74l-1DBvSMMgoEkVKHWekyrYZpDru-6oL6FwFbNhmiC9f8wixokGjn1blaJLnQLlEHeYlJiZAeApJjM2wPTENurDBybek_p_ERdzUjx-dFkbMfGD2hzP/s400/IMG_4840.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee is joining her big sister in the roller derby fun! She's rocking it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKixDUlzmYkLPnhRo0OfqYovNkD_Gbm_VWBfrNyAq6g-F9XKVGAJ1rv8Ip9KyywPhmPmLtoe7UPBLAwO8P2tRb7wQLLg6bTRip63ZNkECWXfTqMG-t3ie-rFzWdWSyG4Regb0KUaQK6nOM/s1600/IMG_4850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKixDUlzmYkLPnhRo0OfqYovNkD_Gbm_VWBfrNyAq6g-F9XKVGAJ1rv8Ip9KyywPhmPmLtoe7UPBLAwO8P2tRb7wQLLg6bTRip63ZNkECWXfTqMG-t3ie-rFzWdWSyG4Regb0KUaQK6nOM/s400/IMG_4850.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Elder needed to get some blood work done, and endured the procedure like a champ!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fJaPqf6lFnYwT9DgIeQQvzKTKYmlTELldoOXT1R55BW-obsJHOiLWNqjRz6AWA0-wFJRe27OnJGmMjrAHfVYkVdm9yWNXtxCJEej5NYDFJxM8koIlL53Y6YoZWl_ouw66sMJNuVKi9Ez/s1600/IMG_4868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fJaPqf6lFnYwT9DgIeQQvzKTKYmlTELldoOXT1R55BW-obsJHOiLWNqjRz6AWA0-wFJRe27OnJGmMjrAHfVYkVdm9yWNXtxCJEej5NYDFJxM8koIlL53Y6YoZWl_ouw66sMJNuVKi9Ez/s400/IMG_4868.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sometimes wonder about these girls. Do they realize they're doing the scooter thing wrong?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After several posts to sell things, and an overflowing garbage can (again), and several trips to the donation hole, this is where I'm at for the garage now:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsEogLoAylfSg3CHb8mbnMR59DRig_cKAT0QzX6kkrQ5JKgUxOuLTjlYcsC2yyHwwj6C1lzGs3hYWEeyCoTlQ-VMNWg2d6R8hSc7Qx3y-Iipqkmc30-gnj6ogfDCHDK4pQwtuQDQ_k3hX/s1600/IMG_4879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsEogLoAylfSg3CHb8mbnMR59DRig_cKAT0QzX6kkrQ5JKgUxOuLTjlYcsC2yyHwwj6C1lzGs3hYWEeyCoTlQ-VMNWg2d6R8hSc7Qx3y-Iipqkmc30-gnj6ogfDCHDK4pQwtuQDQ_k3hX/s400/IMG_4879.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It doesn't look like much of a change, but things on this side of the garage will go to Korea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalfba8yfsaJIsRJRD6WFFw6WF2cYKcIJg9U60DPBxLYjQP2LkyxflnySwKX0AV1a8tCO-C2MsEqumbD7EbeLN5wLbl6qWPyoq53QP0phO39s7fsBBpybMTm8kxAyNSuMQ8oKdi8gdrPRw/s1600/IMG_4880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalfba8yfsaJIsRJRD6WFFw6WF2cYKcIJg9U60DPBxLYjQP2LkyxflnySwKX0AV1a8tCO-C2MsEqumbD7EbeLN5wLbl6qWPyoq53QP0phO39s7fsBBpybMTm8kxAyNSuMQ8oKdi8gdrPRw/s400/IMG_4880.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And things on this side of the garage are either being sold or are going to non-temp storage. Except for the elliptical and the inversion table. Those are going to Korea!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I probably have another four or so hours in the garage to do. See those boxes in the back? Yeah... I want to go through those as well. I'd rather get rid of as much excess weight as possible. 13,500 pounds, remember? <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/10/tgbka-day-27-weight-allowances.html" target="_blank">Or is it 6,750? Or 3,375?</a> With all of this confusion, I can't afford to bring anything extra!<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-77816770703185769362015-10-17T01:00:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:00:27.917-05:00TGBKA, Days 22 - 29: More Passport FunRemember <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/10/tgbka-day-6-passport-lady-take-3.html" target="_blank">Day 6, my no-fee passport apppointment</a>? That was the day Sweet Baboo and I decided to file for our tourist passports. I didn't trust that our no-fee passport applications would get back to me in time, or that they were even filled out properly. So I spent Day 7 getting Sweet Baboo to get me the proper paperwork from him (he needed to send me the <a href="http://www.state.gov/documents/organization/212243.pdf" target="_blank">DS-3053</a>: Statement of Consent since he wouldn't be there to give consent in person). $524.50 later (including expedite fees for each of our passports), we were able to file the applications at the post office quickly and with relatively few headaches.<br />
<br />
I say relatively few because at least those headaches were absolutely excusable, or my own fault. First, I had to go to two post offices (on opposite sides of town) because the first one wasn't doing passports that day. Apparently, the employee who does them at that location fell ill. Okay, no problem. I went to the other passport office. When I made it to the other passport office, there was no line... no waiting! I walked right up, and the lady looked over my paperwork. I had everything... except for a printout of Sweet Baboo's military ID card. That needed to accompany the DS-3053. Of course, the post office didn't have any printers that I could use (he emailed me a scanned copy of his ID card for a different PCS duty of mine) so I had to head over to the local Staples to pay for copies. It was quicker than driving the 20 minutes back home (and then the 20 more minutes back to the post office) to print it out. When I got back to the post office there was, of course, a long line of people wanting to get passports.<br />
<br />
When I finally got to the front of the line, the passport lady looked over all of our documents again and told me that one of my documents wouldn't be accepted. It was the court decree for my legal name change. You see in 2012, for reasons I'll discuss in a different blog post, I legally changed my name. I didn't get divorced; I didn't remarry. I just had had enough of my legal name and asked the probate judge to legally change it. He did, and something inside of me got brighter that day. But I digress. I had the court decree, but had to hand it over to Passport Lady on post for my official no-fee passports. She assured me that a photocopy of the same document would be acceptable for the tourist passports, and even made the copies for me. Post Office Passport Lady didn't think the photocopy version would fly. She made a phone call to the State Department and came back saying that they would, in fact, accept it. So we sent all of the paperwork in.<br />
<br />
On Day 22, I got a letter from the Department of State saying this:<br />
<br />
"Please submit a certified copy of the court ordered name change. Photocopies and notarized copies of these documents are not accepted for passport services."<br />
<br />
Well dang.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lrC5GyrO1hqRqfqn4ucnPbXRVPsZwO2_H_Po_jND5ga4i0tgpI4Uy4qAmbmn-I-AeemcVehZMwoLpGJQYpYEXVocXl5Tjje8AeWyGOZtdgCAyxDo8gROciEEgL5DEK_jHR6Ls7TbLe13/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lrC5GyrO1hqRqfqn4ucnPbXRVPsZwO2_H_Po_jND5ga4i0tgpI4Uy4qAmbmn-I-AeemcVehZMwoLpGJQYpYEXVocXl5Tjje8AeWyGOZtdgCAyxDo8gROciEEgL5DEK_jHR6Ls7TbLe13/s400/IMG_4675.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post-yoga: Welcome to my Namaste Hair. But this has (unfortunately) been my "yoga or not look" for the past 20 days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was a 1-800 number on the letter for me to use should I have any questions. I got the letter after 6pm on Friday before a federal holiday. I was <i>just sure</i> that I wouldn't get anywhere with the issue until the following Tuesday. I should have made the call right away. Turns out the State Department takes calls at all hours of the day or night! On Day 26 I called the 800 number and explained the situation. The nice fellah at the other end of the line told me that only original certified copies are accepted. I told him that the original is with my application for the no-fee passport... couldn't he just walk over to that department and check it out? He chuckled, but not in a condescending manner. He explained that "that department" is in a completely different state... so the walk would take a while. He recommended that since I'm still in the county that I got the name changed, I head over to the probate judge's office and ask for another certified copy and send it in. So I did.<br />
<br />
Man, is our probate judge's office <i>amazing!</i> I think I'm going to spend my Sunday making something tasty and equally amazing to take back up to that office to give to the employees there. They were kind, informative, understanding, and one employee had a hug to give me when I told her that I was overly stressed, excessively caffeinated, and severely under rested. Within five minutes I had <i>two</i> fresh certified copies of my court decree, and a smile on my face. I wished the entire office a wonderfully blessed rest of their week, and headed out the door. Fabulous! I went directly home and mailed one of the certified copies to the Department of State. And then I waited.<br />
<br />
So today... Day 29... I watched with excitement when our mail carrier approached the door with two priority mail envelopes. I just sent out my certified copy of the court decree two days ago, so I knew my passport wasn't in one of those envelopes. They had to the be envelopes for the girls. They were! But no passports were inside. Instead, I got two (almost) identical letters telling me that I needed to send <i>the original</i> DS-3053 that Sweet Baboo filled out. He scanned and emailed the forms to me because he wouldn't be able to get them in the mail, and in my hands in enough time for me to get them in the applications and on the way to the State Department with enough time for them to process the applications and send the passports back to me before we had to leave for Korea. (Whew! Run-on sentence, anybody?). The letters got to me at 5:03pm my time. I decided to call the 800 number anyway. Amazingly, I didn't get a message telling me to call back during business hours! Rather, I got a very friendly woman (Susan) on the phone who spent the next 40 minutes helping me with the girls' applications as well as mine. Then she went through the system and "linked" our applications so that they would all be processed together.<br />
<br />
She made notes in the system about the situation, asked several questions that were pertinent and relevant, and then asked if she could call me back in about ten minutes. Impressed to find a federal employee who cares and was willing to do more than just point me elsewhere, I was giddy with excitement. After we hung up, I was visualizing becoming BFFs with this sweet lady. We would have mimosas during Sunday brunch, we would take girls-only weekend getaways annually, we would do the things BFFs do. All because <i>for the first time since we got orders to Korea, I had a person who was going out of her way to ensure this would be the very last speed bump in the passport process for me</i>. I felt like I was the second grader on the playground who was getting picked on by other passport people, and Susan was my big sister who could beat them all up. People, PCS-ing is stressful. It is not for the faint of heart when you have your service member there to help. It's really no joke when you're the only person handling it all.<br />
<br />
Susan called back and recommended that I fill out the <a href="http://www.state.gov/documents/organization/217450.pdf" target="_blank">DS-5525</a> and overnight it to the State Department. This form is the Statement of Exigent/Special Family Circumstances.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I got off the phone with Susan feeling confident that once I turned in the DS-5525, we would be well on our way to passport-ownership. The post offices were closed, so I could put off filling out the form and sending it in until tomorrow morning. The girls had been so good this week as I navigated very frustrating waters, and our housing office was hosting a Resident Appreciation Week. Tonight was the last night of appreciating us, and they were celebrating by hosting a small fall festival. Pony rides, pumpkin painting, BBQ, bouncy house... the girls would get some good entertainment and I didn't have to cook dinner. Double win!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_c1pSQuVcdFWmTmq2mEpeB3U8Wkx03KiNGwUGT1BUfbYuLlungrLGfMvZwG3vmhx6Xpgf5w-YRLblpI1hRAXJETWgHCw9a0tlWCSnpqi4RaS4Kgix5rvaT3U__V4FGidffq_g7M9qZP0/s1600/IMG_4712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_c1pSQuVcdFWmTmq2mEpeB3U8Wkx03KiNGwUGT1BUfbYuLlungrLGfMvZwG3vmhx6Xpgf5w-YRLblpI1hRAXJETWgHCw9a0tlWCSnpqi4RaS4Kgix5rvaT3U__V4FGidffq_g7M9qZP0/s400/IMG_4712.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a beautiful evening for outdoor activities. I was glad to step away from the PCS craziness for a bit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80pZpnH6Q40z6bgFxz7EJxPZ1LbtucBjdX4Bs8kgY46KIllM27-YbK113CwNm2UrGOn4661e6IMY150VD6wMD_XHETrofK01xSUCQ2WaZxEcWUk4hv1bW6YWq1HjS0wrfUp04-Bvk4HXY/s1600/IMG_4714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80pZpnH6Q40z6bgFxz7EJxPZ1LbtucBjdX4Bs8kgY46KIllM27-YbK113CwNm2UrGOn4661e6IMY150VD6wMD_XHETrofK01xSUCQ2WaZxEcWUk4hv1bW6YWq1HjS0wrfUp04-Bvk4HXY/s400/IMG_4714.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee loved riding Mystery. He was a gentle horse who handled her clumsy mount and dismount gracefully.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUulOzUprbP9WFhr9Wy9qoa1D_nThkshwoKYFe3SdmM00572LTmEkhQC40u8eTwDF7FQVYz8pYBSVrMiJ5JkpkDK9_1CU9eBznx9J4x-ZBpXZ8W8dpGBomFrnPH9xASmtTBTbjKdUwsnh/s1600/IMG_4724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUulOzUprbP9WFhr9Wy9qoa1D_nThkshwoKYFe3SdmM00572LTmEkhQC40u8eTwDF7FQVYz8pYBSVrMiJ5JkpkDK9_1CU9eBznx9J4x-ZBpXZ8W8dpGBomFrnPH9xASmtTBTbjKdUwsnh/s400/IMG_4724.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Elder's horse seemed to be very happy to be there. Despite not wanting to walk any more.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeoLoeFZOyxxBq8ywJkbHgH0EhxP9vIvViRQ3WAwOmJ1SeUdrs-Hu3U2TYuT8JSpgpLv2Vltk4Jq9Fp38t0aGDZb0Sg4X4yjMO-4Dau6QPMjbLj77HhYG3ykGWn1Hc9bpueqR5DCMY2H0/s1600/IMG_4726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeoLoeFZOyxxBq8ywJkbHgH0EhxP9vIvViRQ3WAwOmJ1SeUdrs-Hu3U2TYuT8JSpgpLv2Vltk4Jq9Fp38t0aGDZb0Sg4X4yjMO-4Dau6QPMjbLj77HhYG3ykGWn1Hc9bpueqR5DCMY2H0/s400/IMG_4726.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eventually he got moving again. And the Elder enjoyed her ride as well.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCAjzDhmoGsvpKydxtXNZjlStkz2csh5XxVUvRh3Gqpb7VGRVMYjE0bchUKZZPPoKh4qzUZ-d53DEuutnx50VfiIHvqUH_5NGMS7uQX_ZdPGiV8HCfxiLAdesErH52q0gwGTJ9g6gBTJU/s1600/IMG_4729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCAjzDhmoGsvpKydxtXNZjlStkz2csh5XxVUvRh3Gqpb7VGRVMYjE0bchUKZZPPoKh4qzUZ-d53DEuutnx50VfiIHvqUH_5NGMS7uQX_ZdPGiV8HCfxiLAdesErH52q0gwGTJ9g6gBTJU/s400/IMG_4729.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The BBQ was lovely. The girls were debating whether the object in the air was a rocket, an airplane, a meteor, or a falling star.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yQvKj2mQZo55vdUPWfCbLlQeT5xtQkx66W3TTC7u_Gqu7VAI2uY1Gi0BGRfkdcZBQB8KT2FZzfpRZQrajSHaGTP6a0j0uumYABP2w5cnLYEkE-ub1N7FnPaZ-16w6AIw0C-uM7yJwUEp/s1600/IMG_4730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yQvKj2mQZo55vdUPWfCbLlQeT5xtQkx66W3TTC7u_Gqu7VAI2uY1Gi0BGRfkdcZBQB8KT2FZzfpRZQrajSHaGTP6a0j0uumYABP2w5cnLYEkE-ub1N7FnPaZ-16w6AIw0C-uM7yJwUEp/s400/IMG_4730.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee decided to not take any chances... she would "pray on her falling star" just in case.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEtviccWaN4RSMMOHKGweZRbhxHfv-KyzlqV1d5-WQljoMnNHj5qio8Ne9gZ6GqanVDIwSkVHxQ6TzXhJSZMJcTs-_0D_vn3PVCb4iQuoBHPvbSWefNzSlBMtHFaKveBGYr21ogKS_IPy/s1600/IMG_4732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEtviccWaN4RSMMOHKGweZRbhxHfv-KyzlqV1d5-WQljoMnNHj5qio8Ne9gZ6GqanVDIwSkVHxQ6TzXhJSZMJcTs-_0D_vn3PVCb4iQuoBHPvbSWefNzSlBMtHFaKveBGYr21ogKS_IPy/s400/IMG_4732.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bouncy house was a big hit... until the Wee got a big hit in her face. A fat lip later, we went home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Wanna know how I know that the State Department has people who tend the phone at all hours of the day? Because I got a phone call from Sharon at 9:04 pm! She called because she was trying to finish up our passports and wanted to know more about the exigent circumstances for the Wee. I explained the situation to her again, and added that the circumstances were the same for the Elder as well. She looked into both cases and ended up telling me that she would go ahead and process the passport applications without the Form 5525. The passports would be good for one year. My immediate thought: In one year, I'd have to fork out another $525 in fees to get the passports updated again. She assured me that I wouldn't have to pay another $525. The one year expiration date is given to allow me enough time to get to Korea, get Sweet Baboo to fill out the DS-3053, and send everything in all over again so we can get the 5 year passports. WHEW! Sharon was quickly moving to the State Department BFF list.<br />
<br />
She asked if I had any setbacks in my own passport and I told her that it should be rectified since I turned in a certified copy of the court decree days ago. She looked into it, asked me more questions, typed a bunch of stuff in the computer, and told me that they didn't have the certified copy just yet. Not wanting to lose hope, I told her that I would check back in next week to see if it had arrived. I heard more typing, then she asked if she could call me back. When she did, she gave me the great news: they would process my passport now.<br />
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Despite the overly frustrating <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/10/tgbka-day-29-deers.html" target="_blank">trip to the DEERS office</a>, today was a GLORIOUS day. I needed today.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-37315559210072179792015-10-16T23:39:00.001-05:002015-10-17T01:01:12.384-05:00TGBKA, Day 29: DEERS<h2 style="text-align: center;">
DEERS</h2>
When service members get married, or have children, those humans become dependents and will be entered into the DEERS system as such. DEERS stands for Defense Enrollment Eligibility Reporting System. DEERS is a database for service members, retirees, dependents, etc. who are entitled to Tricare and other services with the military. DEERS is so important that I cannot go make changes to my own record without having Sweet Baboo there with me, or having a special power of attorney authorizing me to do things within DEERS. The POA has to spell out the specific duties that I can do, and the employee who actually inputs the information cannot deviate from what the POA spells out.<br />
<br />
Earlier this calendar year, I lost my dependent ID card. In 10 years, I have never lost my ID card... I've temporarily forgotten where it was placed, but I had found it again before I had to leave the house. But in January I lost the card and despite having several friends tear my home apart looking for it, we could not find the card. I went to the DEERS office to get a new ID card (I live on post... I can't even go home after running errands without my ID card). I couldn't get a new card. Why? Because Sweet Baboo was TDY and the five POAs that I had in my binder weren't good enough. My general POA? Nope. The four special POAs that dealt with financial and medical decisions? Not even close. I needed a POA that specifically authorized me to get a new ID card. Sweet Baboo was in an Army school at the time that started when the sun came up, and didn't end until after the sun went down. Getting him to head over to the JAG office to snag me a POA was not feasible. I had to get an ID card that was good for 30 days, and return to the DEERS office <i>the day after Sweet Baboo returned from his school</i> to get a permanent ID card. DEERS is that important.<br />
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The ID cards are issued to dependents who are 10 or older. The Elder and the Wee have a running count down for their 10th birthday... they just can't wait to get their own ID card! When Sweet Baboo got orders to Korea, I asked him to get me the Special POA that authorizes me to get the Elder an ID card since he won't be around to take her in to get it when she turns 10. He did. And then he went to Korea. And we hunkered down for the year-long unaccompanied tour.<br />
<br />
But then we got orders to join him, and we got so excited! When military families are stationed overseas, <i>all </i>dependents need an ID card. It has something to do with the ration cards at the commissary, and the status with the Embassy, and getting on the airplane using Official Orders... etc. etc. Honestly, when we were stationed in Guam years ago I didn't pay much attention to <i>why</i> I needed to get the ID card for the Elder (the Wee hadn't joined the family yet), I just got the card for her. I was told that I needed to get the ID cards for the girls again for Korea so I asked Sweet Baboo to get me another POA for the Wee to get an ID card. He did.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0qqxED4CLMb1rrFSPCw5VAbw7lSv0ox-H5Kn__JuGZRQKcwyM15fME9o2wmMiVgBrGB-MknMqToiyitfFuHPVJS0nCSChaZN-1uYtQrXk2QmsA2g25IYhBdLLfT1tLRKTCD4_mNh-7pF/s1600/IMG_4708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0qqxED4CLMb1rrFSPCw5VAbw7lSv0ox-H5Kn__JuGZRQKcwyM15fME9o2wmMiVgBrGB-MknMqToiyitfFuHPVJS0nCSChaZN-1uYtQrXk2QmsA2g25IYhBdLLfT1tLRKTCD4_mNh-7pF/s400/IMG_4708.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wee stole my fake eyeglasses for the day. She wanted to wear them for her ID card. Denied.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Armed with two Special POAs to get ID cards, orders to Korea, and two adorable kids who were excited to get their cards early, I set out to the DEERS office to check this block off my to-do list. Before I could finish the first explanation of what I was doing in the office, the lady at the front desk cut me off and said that the girls were not authorized an ID card until they turned 10. Oh boy. The back and forth again. I explained that when we were stationed overseas before, I needed to get an ID card for the Elder. She didn't care. She said that it isn't done any more. We went back and forth for several minutes before I finally asked, "Are you the actual employee who works in the DEERS office, or are you the person who gets me the ticket to be in line to wait to go talk to the person who works in the DEERS office?" She assured me that she worked in the DEERS office. But I knew that I was right, and that I would be wasting my time if I left the office only to have to go back up there again in the future. So I dug in my heels and asked her to show me the regulation that said <i>only dependents who are 10 and older</i> are authorized an ID card. She stared hard at me, turned around, and asked another employee to come over and explain to me the only 10+ year olds could have an ID card.<br />
<br />
Employee 2 came over, listened to what I had to say, and said that I was right: dependents who are stationed overseas need to have ID cards. I couldn't help it. I looked at Employee 1 and smiled. I looked over at Employee 2 and asked if I could please get the ID card. Misunderstandings would soon abound! Employee 2 told me that they couldn't issue the overseas ID card to the kids because we are not overseas now. The only thing they could do was issue an ID card that was good for 5 days; that would "get us on the plane", and I could get the "permanent" one when we got to Korea. This posed a problem because our travel plans are such that the girls will be spending a couple of weeks with their grandparents (not in the area) just before we leave, and we won't be able to travel back to the DEERS office to get the ID cards before we got on the plane. Employee 1 kept telling me that I didn't need to worry about it, and I should just wait until I get to Korea to get the cards. I did lose my cool with her; I said that she needed to stop telling me to not worry about things. I needed people on this installation to do their jobs rather than spending so much energy getting out of doing their jobs. She stopped interjecting herself in the conversation. Eventually, Employee 2 went to the <i>actual</i> DEERS employees and asked what to do. At the end of it all, we left the building with ID cards for each of the girls. What an unnecessary hassle!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsoSoiNU55JPXORqcGz4bFJ7ABIQk-cr2bUoX-i3xcbW4zYZl6D7Q-TFkJCBk-J7qUws4rq9o4QIrDlqS5CLrd84rTc7nv_hqu0TBkKwm18ssFCDV5zCEKyr1ytdCefvT8ZrNIZYiTtt2/s1600/IMG_4728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsoSoiNU55JPXORqcGz4bFJ7ABIQk-cr2bUoX-i3xcbW4zYZl6D7Q-TFkJCBk-J7qUws4rq9o4QIrDlqS5CLrd84rTc7nv_hqu0TBkKwm18ssFCDV5zCEKyr1ytdCefvT8ZrNIZYiTtt2/s400/IMG_4728.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We weren't going to let the day end in frustration. Instead, we took selfies at the Resident Appreciation Festival on post. And this will be how I remember today: me and my girls!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-8642225983731191092015-10-16T23:23:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:02:35.111-05:00TGBKA, Day 27: Weight Allowances<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Weight Allowances</b></h2>
Man, when it rains it really does pour! The Unaccompanied Baggage pack out was on Day 26, and if you'll remember from <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-setting.html" target="_blank">this post</a> I have been very nervous about the weight allowances and how to estimate how much my stuff weighs. According to our PPO Counselor, I was to have not more than 350 pounds of stuff for myself and 175 for each of the kids for the UB shipment. And you'll also remember from the same post that our PPO Counselor and I had a disagreement on how much of our HHG allowance that I could ship. She said 25%, I read the regulations and saw 50%. She highlighted 50% and handed it to me, still saying that I could only ship 25%. It has been a big mess, people!<br />
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On Day 27, Sweet Baboo got an email telling us that our UB shipment weighed 715 pounds. The emails said, "DPS has detected the possibility you may have exceeded your authorized JTR weight allowance of 600. Please contact your destination Transportation Office and request a reweigh of your shipment prior to delivery and/or for additional assistance."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tKz5VcSHVFtqC1xLuAouqJA6Tgiv2_gbr0RyqlmQyPCcTWrTremeKxxvFZH9xvm8FHmQ4_L3mDLxgPMGIQPfNMEp_VrpYSUmSshG-f6p81bRX3IEeUzBtbhqdheyhS2KNNRxexmEH9Ql/s1600/IMG_4664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tKz5VcSHVFtqC1xLuAouqJA6Tgiv2_gbr0RyqlmQyPCcTWrTremeKxxvFZH9xvm8FHmQ4_L3mDLxgPMGIQPfNMEp_VrpYSUmSshG-f6p81bRX3IEeUzBtbhqdheyhS2KNNRxexmEH9Ql/s400/IMG_4664.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Packing all of our UB goods into the truck!</td></tr>
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Did you read that math? The email said that I went over our 600 pound allowance, but according to the math the PPO Counselor gave me I should have had a 700 pound allowance. Sure... either way I went over. But when you're paying per pound for your stuff to get <i>flown</i> to Korea, 100 pounds is a big deal. I'd rather pay for 15 pounds over rather than 115.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SAbUGcTu8EwSJYmowtdEAN390j0jvVDvLO6B6c6_uOnj8leqftVR_IfXiKhiX20gvhnsbodNAkqyi5LCm7J2f2q7IkVIP_v0VRmStDWHgAePVy371XAf_9jKipkvz-JlSZvdAsUwPCZD/s1600/IMG_4666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SAbUGcTu8EwSJYmowtdEAN390j0jvVDvLO6B6c6_uOnj8leqftVR_IfXiKhiX20gvhnsbodNAkqyi5LCm7J2f2q7IkVIP_v0VRmStDWHgAePVy371XAf_9jKipkvz-JlSZvdAsUwPCZD/s400/IMG_4666.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once the goods are in the crate, there's no unpacking it to make it lighter!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVmt3ugnGHu9RYFl-JMkGQ5fU5uAih3TKwzAmVvPskJeLcKmlwhIH67PIpQbq4YkuL6PMJLme9wd_J__66lh6Y8RcKcdBmqsUxmKO3Ozz-3m8vqKZnFjXZ-M7fMHcMg9NmtLgUsJjLQsT/s1600/IMG_4667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVmt3ugnGHu9RYFl-JMkGQ5fU5uAih3TKwzAmVvPskJeLcKmlwhIH67PIpQbq4YkuL6PMJLme9wd_J__66lh6Y8RcKcdBmqsUxmKO3Ozz-3m8vqKZnFjXZ-M7fMHcMg9NmtLgUsJjLQsT/s400/IMG_4667.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crate gets sealed, and there is no going back.</td></tr>
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That afternoon I called my PPO Counselor. Her voicemail was as helpful as she was in person. I intended to write a separate blog post about my experience in the Personal Property Office, but was busy running around trying to get accurate information. So I'll BLUF you: She. Was. Awful. She spent the entire time giving me no information, getting frustrated with my questions, and telling me that I shouldn't call her if I have any other questions. (She gave me three handouts with phone numbers for Jacksonville, Florida should I have any questions or problems.) When I insisted that I read the packs of papers that she handed over to me to sign, she was visibly irritated. I'll admit, I scanned a few of them and signed them because I was starting to let her behavior affect my confidence in my understanding on what should be happening.<br />
<br />
To sum up her desire to help families get the information they need to ship their household goods to a new duty station, her voicemail says it all: "Hi, this is ______________. I'm unavailable at this time. If you need assistance you may call _______________ at ______________. Again, that's _______________. Have a blessed day." Does she encourage the caller to leave a message so she can get back with them? Nope. She passes the caller off to another person... by asking that person to call somebody else. She couldn't be bothered to be helpful when I was in her office... and that attitude is extended in her voicemail. But man, I'm glad she gave that name and number. Because the man I called next was <i style="font-weight: bold;">over the top</i> helpful!<br />
<br />
When Helpful PPO Counselor called me the today, he stopped what he was doing to look up our situation in the computer. According to him, here is how the math should work out:<br />
<br />
Sweet Baboo was given 600 pounds to ship his HHG back when the tour was supposed to be just him. When his orders were amended to authorize the girls and me to join him, we were authorized <i>an additional</i> 350 pounds for my UB shipment, 175 pounds for the Elder, and 175 for the Wee. That would allow for 700 pounds for the girls and me, <i>on top of</i> the 600 pounds that Sweet Baboo was authorized to pack (1,300 pounds total). His shipment ended up only being 250 pounds (he forgot a few things). I asked Helpful PPO Counselor if the remaining 350 pounds that he didn't use were use-lose, or if we could use some of that in the shipment that we're over on. He said that since our orders are amendments to his, and we <i>had to do the shipments in two separate shipments</i>, the weight allowances were not use-lose. So technically, I had up to 1,050 pounds to use on our UB shipment... not 700, not 600. He said that I should not be "over" on our weight allowance (since his shipment plus ours equals 965 pounds), and I shouldn't receive a statement of charges.<br />
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But that doesn't change my <u>overall</u> HHG weight allowance. Yes, we are authorized 13,500 pounds total (UB + HHG + NTS), but we can only take 50% of that 13,500 to Korea (UB + HHG). The other 50% has to either go to the trash, donation hole, sold, or NTS. What a relief! He looked it up, verified it for me, and when I told him that my original PPO Counselor quoted me 25% he said that she was wrong. (Sweet Baboo took time out of his duty day to head over to his PPO in Korea to ask why our PPO Counselor here would say 25% and they were at a loss as well). So after Sweet Baboo's 250 pound shipment in July, and our 715 pound UB shipment this week, we still have 5,785 pounds of HHG that we <i>can</i> ship to Korea. I think if I ship that much stuff, Sweet Baboo may have a few words to share with me about my definition of "packing light"... but it's nice to confidently know what my allowances are! Now we wait to see what the HHG shipment will weigh... and if we get a statement of charges.<br />
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During all of this, I was doing my best to research the regulations. But when my original PPO Counselor handed me the highlighted regulation (that told me I was authorized 50% of our total weight allowance), she also told me that she wasn't confident that she was handing me the most updated regulation (and informed me that it wasn't her job to keep me abreast of the most updated regulation). This caused me to ask what her purpose in the office was, but that didn't go over very well. My research did turn up <a href="http://www.transcom.mil/dtr/part-iv/dtr_part_iv_app_k_1.pdf" target="_blank">this document</a> dated October, 2014. It has so much information in it that I wish I had during the last four PCSs!<br />
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It lists weight allowances by rank:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOxSd500vZ6deT9MDBRJ0rtf0F0y78vkhrR_jchioUHlpD_0o1Z6wnGd3pJWGsbo-0wkJGUuRhMT0UjdafoAR-1ab2SF49h3YNktl8MWA82P0fl-H2_9Z_A1NYuSmaFnZHhDaArVzF4u_/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.11.48+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOxSd500vZ6deT9MDBRJ0rtf0F0y78vkhrR_jchioUHlpD_0o1Z6wnGd3pJWGsbo-0wkJGUuRhMT0UjdafoAR-1ab2SF49h3YNktl8MWA82P0fl-H2_9Z_A1NYuSmaFnZHhDaArVzF4u_/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.11.48+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because this was so hard for my original PPO Counselor to get to me at first!</td></tr>
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It discusses pro-gear:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDsNiZeavR39mbsbaV9Q9q8t-mRIPaq5wpAZSzxhWde3l23w3TGS1fV1aUP3Qj0LkMUuWWCsChv2csc1HjXBXzQPR8pOx_yMKQzAhnx7dk_1wavFRuRofITKz_gSXemRCxhWF2lwycjgTw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.14.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDsNiZeavR39mbsbaV9Q9q8t-mRIPaq5wpAZSzxhWde3l23w3TGS1fV1aUP3Qj0LkMUuWWCsChv2csc1HjXBXzQPR8pOx_yMKQzAhnx7dk_1wavFRuRofITKz_gSXemRCxhWF2lwycjgTw/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.14.44+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because my original PPO Counselor didn't tell me the weight limit for PBP&E.</td></tr>
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It discusses pro-gear for the spouse:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcu9CtnwW5VqE6TiT-A2yVxGxQd3ahk5kgNuKGzEDKiDeRo3hWNFD1dSarRL2vQpT_VAu31JMXa2TBtgcO6Amh2VegkC2Nk6ZTEHJxMOn28qS8WyM2oiyMuenOs2l-Z5lcmrBBlW61zn-Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.17.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcu9CtnwW5VqE6TiT-A2yVxGxQd3ahk5kgNuKGzEDKiDeRo3hWNFD1dSarRL2vQpT_VAu31JMXa2TBtgcO6Amh2VegkC2Nk6ZTEHJxMOn28qS8WyM2oiyMuenOs2l-Z5lcmrBBlW61zn-Y/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.17.46+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This will make a huge difference in our weight allowance... all of my studio equipment needs to be stored.</td></tr>
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It even discusses how to prepare for your appointment with the PPO Counselor:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw619UG51pDhojTA9DJQpi-t-KRk5sUok5eNYWTq_FndGyid7TzWRhYIzslx2e_zPNdDXYgMtVDwszUmKWdLwuf1u3LYx3sigzvpyJz_0GI82sNy7mHAoYYewi0tLtxgGhkLh32KOg0bW/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.20.19+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw619UG51pDhojTA9DJQpi-t-KRk5sUok5eNYWTq_FndGyid7TzWRhYIzslx2e_zPNdDXYgMtVDwszUmKWdLwuf1u3LYx3sigzvpyJz_0GI82sNy7mHAoYYewi0tLtxgGhkLh32KOg0bW/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-16+at+11.20.19+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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As a person who reads regulations so I can be fully informed, this document is 31 pages of <b>pure gold. </b>The information it contains would have been supremely helpful had I had it before my PPO appointment, or even if the PPO Counselor gave it to me <i>at</i> the appointment. I have phone calls to make next week, now... but I'm glad I know this info now rather than later! I'm just hoping the information it contains isn't outdated now that we're in the new fiscal year.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-86226733294516117142015-10-13T23:11:00.001-05:002015-10-17T01:03:12.846-05:00TGBKA: Staying Organized!I'm afraid I suffer from "not enough syndrome". It's not a greed thing.... rather, it's a substantial thing. I don't walk through life saying to myself, "I don't have enough money". Nor do I think, "I don't have enough stuff." But I sure do spend much of my life saying things like this to myself:<br />
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"I'm not efficient enough"<br />
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"This isn't organized enough"<br />
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"I'm not effective enough"<br />
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"I'm not enough enough"<br />
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Seriously... it's a wonder how Sweet Baboo puts up with me so gracefully. He has definitely grown wise with age because he has agreed to use this brilliant (if I do say so myself) tool:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3X-VPQK8ZgyAWI_FXu912P7hrB4drcvNPgfNVFuiUg_NGKhs_8QklFEmwnQ2ZdI70g5e_gVnq9_oOi60uzjeQF4Bk4iO0np2YbDnFl9gr8IaslfcyAozmxqhtWQ6PHMah2irGfs1rTbx/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.34.51+PM.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3X-VPQK8ZgyAWI_FXu912P7hrB4drcvNPgfNVFuiUg_NGKhs_8QklFEmwnQ2ZdI70g5e_gVnq9_oOi60uzjeQF4Bk4iO0np2YbDnFl9gr8IaslfcyAozmxqhtWQ6PHMah2irGfs1rTbx/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.34.51+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
It's a secret "group" on Facebook that is for only myself and him! This has saved so many conversations for us. Seriously! Sweet Baboo is 14 hours ahead of us. So when it's 10:00 in the morning here, and I have a random thought that I need his opinion/input/wisdom for, picking up the phone and calling him at midnight (his time) makes for a Cranky Baboo. Mainly because he has morning formation that the higher powers expect him to cheerfully participate in. So I put a post on the page, and patiently wait for him to respond.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0tXqoGYrvJBSsZezeoeq4ynolR6qHkXufGgWPXMqw4kOnwyMMGvb8l2GO3a4V0wtCdX_GG0_0GqHTQk1fN_lu2OZEdYI60ez7VqraM8V-wHlHEm-1gz3MbPHraUtYuyOrs_QpzbaOUnd/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.44.29+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0tXqoGYrvJBSsZezeoeq4ynolR6qHkXufGgWPXMqw4kOnwyMMGvb8l2GO3a4V0wtCdX_GG0_0GqHTQk1fN_lu2OZEdYI60ez7VqraM8V-wHlHEm-1gz3MbPHraUtYuyOrs_QpzbaOUnd/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.44.29+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My plea for participation may have something to do with his immediate acceptance of this idea.</td></tr>
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And guess what? We aren't using the private message function of Facebook to communicate as much. This is a huge bonus because I am not spending an insane amount of time scrolling back up through fifty bajillion messages to find one piece of information. The group allows us to have organized conversations about several topics at the same time with the reply option to each comment in the thread. For instance:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNOuqM94IKw_3-WjXsmB8taVooDdyvGFWmXJV9Ike3KIfx81FIDu34f2Igeu4iCVdgUe5GPrFXt32vU0iYyLpWkD1sJq3UDXGrtQPIdq_Gk5oN-KIrbvbVR3g_P1TtIouwKwm7OVeWS-P4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.49.44+PM-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNOuqM94IKw_3-WjXsmB8taVooDdyvGFWmXJV9Ike3KIfx81FIDu34f2Igeu4iCVdgUe5GPrFXt32vU0iYyLpWkD1sJq3UDXGrtQPIdq_Gk5oN-KIrbvbVR3g_P1TtIouwKwm7OVeWS-P4/s400/Screen+Shot+2015-10-13+at+10.49.44+PM-2.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most organized way to hold a conversation with a human who sprints through life with ADD. There are literally 11 conversations going on in this thread, and I left the thread feeling completely informed and not confused at all. GLORIOUS!</td></tr>
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I had our first pack out today, and I spent much of my weekend feeling like I was forgetting most of the important things. So I started a thread specifically for the express shipment. I took photos of each room and asked Sweet Baboo to let me know if he saw anything that I was forgetting. Then I went to our storage unit and asked him to let me know if he needed anything there. (Most of his professional equipment is there, and I can't shake the feeling that he didn't take enough of it with him). Each thought is completely different from any other in the thread; if we were to have had this conversation in the private messages function in Facebook most of the thoughts would have been missed or misunderstood. Responses are given directly to the individual thought, allowing for answers that need few (if any) clarification. It's delightful!<br />
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This group may not get shut down when we move to Korea. I love having the ability to put down my random thoughts in an area that is only for Sweet Baboo and myself (since it's a secret group, others won't be able to find it, or join it, unless we invite them to do so). When he's on a trip, I can keep up the communication with him about our household needs. It's great! I'm not feeling like our communication isn't efficient enough any more. Why did it take me this long to come up with this idea?<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-20193092839693030862015-10-13T10:32:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:03:49.755-05:00TGBKA, Day 26: Express Shipment Pack OutWe're here: the first pack out! I've been avoiding most things in preparation for this day, yet I still feel under prepared. I found this image on Facebook a couple of weeks ago, and it very completely details how my brain works:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwzgjUkCItZ1frxAoC4cH9R3ei-J-DBMqaaSJGhoRygKNP-9Rtxms78IlGzEhH24SK_WZzrZtslGkBHf7tHbSw_qjTzr3OoHhgQ5Ya5Z_EEGIWV_PO_9RuSDy0JqzY8ahw1czovq9h2Rr/s1600/11083877_708882342550035_3750872583609527970_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwzgjUkCItZ1frxAoC4cH9R3ei-J-DBMqaaSJGhoRygKNP-9Rtxms78IlGzEhH24SK_WZzrZtslGkBHf7tHbSw_qjTzr3OoHhgQ5Ya5Z_EEGIWV_PO_9RuSDy0JqzY8ahw1czovq9h2Rr/s400/11083877_708882342550035_3750872583609527970_n.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; text-align: start;">A visual for why a simple question seems to take an eternity for me to answer. </span></td></tr>
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So if my "thought", according to this visual, is "Express Shipment: What to Pack", then my "sub thoughts" would include things like<br />
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<ul>
<li>When will we get this shipment? (Estimated: December 17th)</li>
<li>What will we be able to live without until that shipment arrives? </li>
<li>How many pounds does an office chair weigh?</li>
<li>How will I get clothes to Korea if I want them before December 17th? </li>
<li>Just how many bags can I bring on the airplane per ticketed passenger? </li>
<li>Will that number be enough?</li>
<li>How many bags can I arrive in Korea with and still have Sweet Baboo excited to see us? (I tend to "over pack")</li>
<li>What pots and pans should I send now so I have them for Christmas?</li>
<li>How in the world will I cook Thanksgiving dinner without my kitchen?</li>
</ul>
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And the list goes on. All for me to make decisions on how to "spend" 750 pounds of my stuff for this shipment. Here's what I came up with: </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtwTl3oU7ojjyaWaKGglkk_pr61UjpaSxR8T2FKxOabuAfXGzOYb2JMvEZABFAGg0mk9QT2q4HVA8IfyVeLqFx3c1wQuoTiyrU0YCt8pwKX7HLTf30w0SwC9W5PDEN-h1K8knfC5U6NjB/s640/blogger-image-399509698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtwTl3oU7ojjyaWaKGglkk_pr61UjpaSxR8T2FKxOabuAfXGzOYb2JMvEZABFAGg0mk9QT2q4HVA8IfyVeLqFx3c1wQuoTiyrU0YCt8pwKX7HLTf30w0SwC9W5PDEN-h1K8knfC5U6NjB/s1600/blogger-image-399509698.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Towels, cooking tools, yoga mat, homeschool curriculum... you know, the basics.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhhR6RiPlaQ-brmYjfps5-0FHM7lGbaKVcbsmWVY4SJyNgnR7TPA_fvrqurqJqpDtQHDywnjksGCpH9DPMU1AODq4z7mJ4mHrZHflphmcLeo9rtNuZt7ofycO0VYrYwvZcof1tnK2Djay/s640/blogger-image-1800375708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhhR6RiPlaQ-brmYjfps5-0FHM7lGbaKVcbsmWVY4SJyNgnR7TPA_fvrqurqJqpDtQHDywnjksGCpH9DPMU1AODq4z7mJ4mHrZHflphmcLeo9rtNuZt7ofycO0VYrYwvZcof1tnK2Djay/s1600/blogger-image-1800375708.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desktop, television, office chair, Wacom tablet, Big Al (my teddy bear) and Dog (my cat pillow). The freezer stays.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNcHBV4ROgRVoPaPqTjHsLstWyTCTpSQbFZYYG9a6mKmCLmVaGQ_ha-0XsaybxzWKPCUPHJpubIz4EqPhc5bmr8rOmoK7f3DN4W0EiOCM8GnVojlONh9zd3OkD8dqmQ0bQHEMz-tBcPTmo/s640/blogger-image--731865585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNcHBV4ROgRVoPaPqTjHsLstWyTCTpSQbFZYYG9a6mKmCLmVaGQ_ha-0XsaybxzWKPCUPHJpubIz4EqPhc5bmr8rOmoK7f3DN4W0EiOCM8GnVojlONh9zd3OkD8dqmQ0bQHEMz-tBcPTmo/s640/blogger-image--731865585.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas tree, lights, ornaments, punch bowl... I sliced it down to this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAseLxBdhiWJYw-0XmuGw684zQ9axK9QNveKvaNixGzJflPRHYb9FfLKIp8q6qNpT6WTdlDQTJFCdZmJnkw0lStMswpzWd1T-j2hvODY2nTO2DD0h9LnJLIq5KHbsCQ-GnFa7eFhBC6Ym/s640/blogger-image-687875870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAseLxBdhiWJYw-0XmuGw684zQ9axK9QNveKvaNixGzJflPRHYb9FfLKIp8q6qNpT6WTdlDQTJFCdZmJnkw0lStMswpzWd1T-j2hvODY2nTO2DD0h9LnJLIq5KHbsCQ-GnFa7eFhBC6Ym/s640/blogger-image-687875870.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of the very few things that I'm packing, knowing full well that I'll only use it for 4 months in the entire tour. But I love these bowls that much!</td></tr>
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<div>
So here's hoping I didn't screw this decision up. And that when I get to Korea with 15 bags, each weighing under 100 pounds, I will still have an excited Sweet Baboo who will grin and load those suckers up in the tiny Korean vehicle to get us from the airport to our new apartment. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-75751159029719896622015-10-02T02:13:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:04:15.638-05:00TGBKA, Day 6: Passport Lady, Take 3!The day came for us to go back to the passport office to finalize the process of applying for our Official Passports. Now, I do my best to have "average expectations", but Sweet Baboo is constantly telling me that my expectations (of both myself and of others) is far too high. You be the judge here:<br />
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When we arrived, Passport Lady greeted my children (ages 5 and 9 years old) by saying, "Okay, you can't come back here making a lot of noise. I have a lot of paperwork to do and need it quiet so we can focus." Up to this point, the girls had <i>quite literally</i> said nothing. Not one word was spoken out of either of their mouths because they had nothing to say. I, on the other hand, was gently (and in my "I'm in a working office" voice) guiding them to where they needed to go. When she started the visit with that greeting, I looked at her with my obvious, "Are you f-ing kidding me? Did you really just speak at my kids that way?" facial expression and she jumped to explain herself: </div>
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Passport Lady: "There is a lot of paperwork, and I wanted to make sure they knew to keep it down."</div>
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Me: "I'm sure they'll be fine. I have good kids."</div>
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Passport Lady: "Do they have coloring books and toys to keep them occupied?"</div>
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Me: "Nope."</div>
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Passport Lady: "What? You didn't bring coloring books and toys?! Why not?"</div>
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Me: "I wasn't told to. Is it a requirement?"<br />
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Passport Lady: "Well how are they going to stay occupied?"</div>
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Me: "<i>I have good kids.</i> I'm sure they'll be fine."</div>
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Passport Lady: "It's going to be, like, 45 minutes! Fine."</div>
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*For the record, we were there for 2 hours and not once did I have to tell them to behave.* </div>
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We got started with the paperwork, and right away I had questions for her. She wanted to put in the application that we didn't already have passports. But I did. They were expired, but I had them. She said that since they are expired, I needed to put in that I don't have one. But we ended up turning in the passports that <i>I just said on the application that I don't have</i> as one of the official forms of identification.</div>
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Despite the several times I told her that The Elder and I had Official Passports (which were expired), and the The Wee never had an Official Passport, Passport Lady kept asking to see my <i>no-fee passports</i>. I would pick up mine and The Elder's passports and hand them to her, explaining that those were the no-fee ones. But they had blue jackets on them. Which apparently, in the eyes of Passport Lady, meant that they simply could not be no-fee passports. Despite the fact that the instructions for the no-fee passport was clearly printed in the correct spot at the back of the book. She still wouldn't listen.</div>
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She typed with her index fingers. And she looked for the keys as she typed. This slowed down the process substantially since I had to wait for her to ask me for the information, and she had to search for the keys to type it in. I'm surprised that with the über-technological way we live, employers don't have an expectation that the employees they hire have, and maintain, a minimum typing skills assessment if their main duties in the workplace require that they use a computer. At the risk of judging her by her age (she started it with the way she spoke to and about my children), I'm sure she has been working in that office since typewriters were a luxury. But that doesn't excuse her from being able to provide services efficiently and effectively. </div>
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At one point she stopped her painfully slow typing, turned to me, and said, "You're really lucky. I don't do this for anybody." F-bombs were being swallowed at this point. I didn't mind doing this paperwork at home. In fact, it would probably have been more efficient and it definitely would have been easier on the girls. They can handle boring errands, but they find ugliness very difficult to understand. The paperwork that she <i>so generously</i> filled out "for me" that day was online, via the State Department's website. It wasn't some super secret form. I just needed to know where to find it and I could have done it myself. But she <i>insisted</i> that she do it for me during our appointment. </div>
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When it came time to sign the applications for the girls, I was told to give a copy of the POA that Sweet Baboo gave me so I could sign for him. I thought this was odd; can a POA authorize me to get my kids a passport? My mind went through all of the ugly things I've watched wives to do their husbands with a POA in their hands: cleaned out bank accounts, changed names on vehicle titles, take out big loans, etc. Then my mind raced through every creepy Lifetime Original Movie where one parent goes behind the other parent's back and runs off with the kids. No forwarding address... no way to figure out where they went. A passport would allow me to do just that, on an international level. Wouldn't our State Department have safeguards in place to keep things like that from happening?</div>
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Turns out, they do. But Passport Lady either didn't know about them, or she didn't want to bother with them. Either way, I find it hard to believe that she is still employed at her job because she really offered me no actual assistance of value throughout the entire process. The DS-3053, <a href="http://www.state.gov/documents/organization/212243.pdf" target="_blank">Statement of Consent Application Form</a>, needs to be filled out and notarized by the <i>non-attending parent(s)</i> for a child under the age of 16 to get a passport. I learned that when I went to the post office to apply for our tourist passports. And for Sweet Baboo to get me the DS-3053, he had to hunt down a JAG Officer in the final hour of the duty day just before a Korean holiday. Then he had to scan and email it to me. But that happened for Day 8: Tourist Passports... because Passport Lady either didn't know that I needed it, or didn't care to bring it up. And when I did sign my name, she stopped and dramatically said, "<i>That</i> is your signature?"</div>
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Me: "Yes. Why?"</div>
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Passport Lady: "Really? That's how you sign your name?"</div>
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Me: "Do you want me to prove it? I have that same signature on three picture IDs."</div>
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Passport Lady: ~grunt~</div>
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After everything was signed, and I was just about to walk out of her office, I asked her how long the expedited process will take. She looked at me funny, and I reminded her that on Day 4 I mentioned possibly needing the passports to be expedited because 6-8 weeks would be cutting it really close. She said, "where's your memo signed by a 4-Star General?" Wait. What? Apparently, I need a General to approve applying for an expedited no-fee, and when I asked her about the expediting process two days earlier she failed to mention that. The list of information that I was lacking, despite my best efforts to gather it, was growing by the minute. </div>
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So needless to say, I am not even sure I'll be getting my no-fee passports in time. They will process in 6-8 weeks. That would put them to me between Day 48 and Day 62... if they are even approved. Stressed, I told Sweet Baboo what happened. We decided that I would file for our tourist passports, and spend the money to get them expedited. This should be fun...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-60121470463485423802015-09-30T16:41:00.002-05:002015-10-17T01:05:09.121-05:00The Great Big Korean Adventure, Day 5: Shipping my POV, Take 1As I've <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-setting.html" target="_blank">written</a> before, the Army authorizes us to ship a vehicle when the whole family participates in a PCS OCONUS. When the family has two vehicles, how does one decide which one to ship? When should we ship it? What should we do with the other vehicle? How are we going to get the shipped vehicle to port, and back to the house again? Or if we decide to ship the vehicle the day before we leave for Korea, where do we store the other vehicle and how do we get back from storing it so we can PCS? There are so many variables.<br />
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Thank God for the community of spouses that Sweet Baboo lovingly refers to as The Military Wife Mafia. Have a death in the family, and need to fly out ASAP to attend the funeral? Reach out to members of the MWM and they'll dog sit, check in on your house, and help you figure out the most cost effective way to get there. Have orders to a different country? Chances are, one of your MWM members currently lives there, have lived there recently, or has a friend who is currently there and can be your "boots on the ground" with current information and a helping hand. Need to drive 3.5 hours east to take your vehicle to port so you can ship it to your husband who is currently OCONUS and can't help? Boom! MWM members understand that stress and rearrange their schedules so they can drive a trailer-car so you don't have to hitchhike back, or pay for an airplane ticket.<br />
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My original plan:<br />
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1. Ship my beloved minivan. We have been through a lot in that thing: I didn't write about it here, but there was an "incident" with a deer at 1:30am while driving to my FIL's house in 2012 for a visit. The deer didn't make it. My van had a dent and a broken headlight. Last month I was on the interstate, driving to visit family in the hospital after surgery. A school bus driver and I didn't see each other as we merged into the same lane, at the same time. The school bus had a pretty nasty gouge down the side of it, my van had a few scuffs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDNdEsJRPhnTBruuTAgk1ew3pfR3vYzcmxP8Dp-9wFt76IYqSfSiv6kddJALJbfV5ujSGlnh21H5d_U-1dsusTfwuSAxfCt-l1T0paKtbeaOVHMyNc8kahR-Tfp7c7GFpPCCHQKrgpbLd/s640/blogger-image--686999422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDNdEsJRPhnTBruuTAgk1ew3pfR3vYzcmxP8Dp-9wFt76IYqSfSiv6kddJALJbfV5ujSGlnh21H5d_U-1dsusTfwuSAxfCt-l1T0paKtbeaOVHMyNc8kahR-Tfp7c7GFpPCCHQKrgpbLd/s400/blogger-image--686999422.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard to take a photo that shows the depth of the damage while standing on the side of the interstate. Bus: gouged. Van: pain transfer.</td></tr>
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I say that to say this: my van has done its job well for over five years now. These two incidents, being three years apart, could have been much worse. But I was able to walk away from both, and not worry about major mechanical issues after the fact. I never thought I'd say this, but well done Dodge! So with the dings that this van has endured, if it gets a few more in transit to Korea I won't cry a tear. My van is my tool... tools are only shiny at the store. I don't intentionally beat up my tools, but if they get scratched and dinged in the process of working for me, I accept it for what it is.<br />
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2. Store our beloved hatchback at my MIL's house. It's small, so it won't take up a whole lot of space in their driveway. FIL has driven it, and found it to be surprisingly comfortable. And it's "technically" Sweet Baboo's car (that I get to borrow when I don't feel like driving a tank around), so I thought I'd keep it looking nice by not having it endure the dings and damages that can come with shipping a vehicle OCONUS.<br />
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3. Spend the night in Atlanta (the nearest port to us) either the night before my appointment to ship the vehicle, or the night of our appointment. Depending on which night we spend in Atlanta, we would make an experience out of it. Visit the <a href="http://www.georgiaaquarium.org/" target="_blank">Georgia Aquarium</a>, go eat at <a href="http://www.thevarsity.com/index.php" target="_blank">The Varsity</a> (a restaurant I haven't been to since I was a Senior in high school... but I've thought of it every time I have thought of Atlanta), or maybe take a tour of the <a href="http://www.worldofcoca-cola.com/" target="_blank">World of Coca-Cola</a>.<br />
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4. Make this trip around Day 40 or Day 41 of this Great Adventure so I don't have to hunt down all of the paperwork in a hurry.<br />
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Then on Day 5 of this Great Adventure, Sweet Baboo calls and says, "Hey. You do plan on shipping the hatchback to me soon, right? I'll need that to get here ASAP so I don't have to figure out how to drive to the office without a vehicle when I move off post." Hm, well that threw everything on my calendar into a whirlwind of activity. We debated the benefits and setbacks that will come with shipping the van. We discussed the timeline of how things were going. We ended up with this plan:<br />
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1. Ship the hatchback. Everything in Korea is smaller, including the parking spots, and the lanes the vehicles have driven in. To date, Sweet Baboo had only seen one minivan in Uijeongbu ("wee jon boo"), and the driver looked angry to be in such a large vehicle. Minivan stays, hatchback goes.<br />
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2. MIL and FIL are perfectly happy to store the van for us, so that's a win.<br />
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3. Still spending the night in Atlanta, but my fellow MWM Member could only rearrange her schedule so much. I'm very grateful for her doing that much! But we won't have time to stop in at the aquarium or Coca-Cola museum. Perhaps I can at least treat her to lunch at The Varsity on our way out of town!<br />
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4. Make this trip on Day 18 and return on Day 19. Sweet Baboo may not have the hatchback right when he moves into our new apartment, but he will definitely get it 22 days earlier than I had originally planned. I tried to schedule it for Day 11 or Day 12, but getting the letter of authorization from our bank would take too long to schedule the shipment that soon. More on that below.<br />
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Care to know what kind of craziness goes into shipping a vehicle? Oh, the paperwork! I told you that I originally purchased a 1 1/2" binder. Then, immediately had to swap it out for a 2 1/2" binder. That one is already close to bursting at the seams, and I'm not finished adding to it. But that project will get looked at later. Gotta get my hatchback to Korea!<br />
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Step 1: Call the port you want to ship your vehicle from. You don't usually get to choose a port; it's usually chosen for you based on where you currently live and where you'll be shipping your vehicle.<br />
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Step 2: Gather all information you need to successfully send your vehicle OCONUS the first time you try. This is important because you usually have to drive hours to get to the port, so finding out that you're missing something <i>once you're there</i> is enough to make you want to start drinking at 10:00 in the morning.<br />
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Step 3: Realize that you are still paying on the loan for the vehicle you're wanting to ship. This adds an extra layer of "fun". Now you get to track down the Magical Wizard in your financial institution's corporate offices and find out what you need to do to get a letter of authorization to ship your vehicle out of the country. That's right folks; if you don't own your vehicle outright, you have to ask permission from the lien holder of your vehicle to ship it to your next duty station.<br />
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Step 4: Call your financial institution and ask for Magical Wizard. Get put on hold. Speak with Original Bank Employee who answered the phone, who tells you that she can't transfer you to Magical Wizard, but she's happy to provide me with all of the necessary information. Gather the list of documents you need to fax (Nope, not email. We're still in the 1980s people!) to Magical Wizard, and expect to hear back via fax in the next 3-5 business days. Said documents included, according to Original Bank Employee, orders authorizing shipment of a vehicle, information on the vehicle, proof of insurance, and contact information in case they needed to reach out to me.<br />
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Step 5: Ask Original Bank Employee if there was a way for the process to be expedited so we could take the vehicle to port sooner. Get put on hold again. Original Bank Employee returns to the phone with a "sorry, no" response. Ask Original Bank Employee if fax was the only way to communicate during this process. Explain that I have to borrow a friend's fax machine at work to send this information off, and email would be substantially easier for me. That way, I wouldn't have to ask my friend to hover over the fax machine for up to 3 days to see if my fax came in. Get put on hold again. Original Bank Employee comes back with a "sorry, fax is the only way" response. Ask Original Bank Employee if there was an email address or phone number to Magical Wizard that I could use to communicate directly in case I had any other questions. Again... hold. Response, "sorry, no".<br />
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Step 6: Gather all necessary documents (including a very detailed cover letter) and beg Fax Friend to fax your forms. Convince her that by not faxing them, she isn't going to be able to keep me here. I'll go either way. Hug her neck and give a great "squee!" as you head home to do a follow-up call.<br />
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Step 7: Call bank again and see if another bank employee would be able to transfer me to Magical Wizard. Get put on hold; response, "she isn't in her office right now". It was worth a try. Ask if there were some way to ensure Magical Wizard got the fax. Hold. "No".<br />
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Step 8: Go to your PCS calendar and count out 3-5 business days. Make a note to check in with Fax Friend to see if your faxes have arrived.<br />
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Step 9: Consider drinking. At 11:00 in the morning. But opt for water instead.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-48937970238181908242015-09-27T13:51:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:05:47.652-05:00The Great Big Korean Adventure, Day 4: Passport Lady, Take 2For those of you following along, Day 4 has already been a day full of <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-day-4.html" target="_blank">stress and disappointment. </a>Passport Lady was less than helpful when I went into the office, and I last left you with the teaser information about emails being sent between the two of us. Here was my attempt to change my vinegar to honey:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ms. [Passport Lady],</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;">I came into the Passport Office about an hour ago. I was a frazzled mess and very stressed out. I'm sorry that I projected that upon you. I was disappointed in myself to find that I had come in during your lunch time, and didn't want to interrupt your lunch any further. After stepping away from the situation, calming my stress down, and looking at that scene from the outside, I realize that the way I spoke with you was not the way I was intending. Please accept my apologies; I am very sorry for being short with you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Every time we PCS to a new duty station, we play the PCS Shuffle: we get told that we have an insane amount of things to accomplish in an impossible amount of time to do it. We show up to an office to check something off of our list, get told a handful of information and are sent on our way. When we return, having accomplished the handful of information we are generally told that we have still more to do before we can get helped. My husband is currently in Korea, so I am handling this entire process by myself. I am tired and overwhelmed already, and I have only been handling this move since Friday. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;">I was in the passport office about a month or so ago. I cannot recall who the person sitting at the front desk was, but she handed me the "Obtaining an Official Government Passport" paper that you referenced. She told me that I needed to work on the DD Form 156, bring in the expired passports, and just come back in. I asked about the other forms listed, and was told that we could take care of it in the office. I'll work on the other forms listed, but I do have the DD Form 156 filled out and ready to move forward.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">At this point, I have 60 days (starting last Thursday) to get to Korea. To say that I'm in a rush, and frantically trying to gather all of the pertinent information and documents in the most efficient way possible is an understatement. I am kind of running blind as I navigate these OCONUS PCS waters right now, and am trying to schedule my life according to how long things will take to complete. Since the passports will take a while, I would like to complete this ASAP. Can you please spell it all out for me? I would really appreciate it.</span></div>
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Just under an hour later, she wrote back. My desktop computer was at the Apple Store, getting looked at for a few annoying habits it picked up that I needed removed. Better to take care of it now, with an Apple Store just off post, than later when we're in Korea. With my desktop "in the shop", so to speak, I needed to find a place I could use to print the <a href="http://www.dtic.mil/whs/directives/forms/eforms/dd1056.pdf" target="_blank">DD-1056</a> and <a href="http://www.state.gov/documents/organization/212239.pdf" target="_blank">DS-11</a> forms that I was originally told would be taken care of when I came into the office with orders in hand. These forms are packets, so running to Staples to print them out would have been a last resort. The library on post was (in perfect unison with the way the day was going for me already) closed for yet <i>another</i> remodeling situation. And I vaguely remember Sweet Baboo's old boss telling me that if I needed anything to simply swing by and let them know. So I did. And when the last page of the final packet of papers popped out of Big Boss' printer, Passport Lady's email came through:<br />
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Thank-you for the sweet note. I know you are exhausted in this process which can be daunting at times....don't worry....I will help you all I can.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">So.....your husband is in S. Korea now.....and you & your 2 daughters are to PCS to join him...right?</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">OK...first thing...we need his orders stating you and the children are authorized to go. Then we start with who has what paperwork....do you (or the children) have a blue PP now? If not....we will need a birth certificate for each of you. then we will need the DD-1056 ( I can take care of that )....we will also need a DS-11 for each person who does not have a RED official passport now.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">If you want, we can do all this in my office one day when I do not have any appointments, we can knock it out in about 45 minutes...I take the pictures, and can do most of your paperwork.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="color: #e69138;">Let me know if this is OK with you?</span></span><br />
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Being, literally, a block and a half away from the Passport Office, I decided to pop in and see about getting an appointment. The first time I was in the Passport Office, I was led to believe that I didn't need an appointment. "When you get the forms together, just come on in and we'll take care of you." The wording on Passport Lady's email didn't say that I needed an appointment, but I didn't feel like I had the spare time to head on in to her office "...when [she does] not have any appointments...". Plus, she made herself perfectly clear earlier that day that she works by appointments <i>only</i>. And I really do not enjoy being on the phone. So rather than run the risk of playing voicemail tag, or being on hold, I opted to pop in to sort things out in person.<br />
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When I arrived, Passport Lady had a bucket of papers in her hands that she was taking to a set of large garbage cans in the lobby area. She was walking by as I came in. The very first thing she said to me was, "I didn't mean I could do it right now." She gave nervous look to me, and I took that as her attempts to be funny. I gave a nervous chuckle (she is the only person on post who can help me with this, so I opted to be as nice as humanly possible and just get the job done), and responded with, "Well, your email didn't specify when you don't have any appointments. So I came in to set one up." After she finished with the papers in her hand, she came over to me to discuss the next steps.<br />
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I showed her all of the passports I have between the girls and me. The Elder and I have both No-Fee Passports and Tourist Passports. The Wee only got the Tourist Passport. But all of the passports, regardless of the type of passports, had blue jackets. I felt it was important to let her know about this because Sweet Baboo and I thought it odd that our Official Passports didn't come in red jackets (like so many of our friends'. Plus, she had referred to the different colored jackets in her email to me, and I wanted to make sure that she understood that while I didn't have any red jacket passports, I did have Official Passports for 2/3 of us. More on that later.<br />
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After showing her the rest of my paperwork, and letting her know that I had just printed out the rest of the documents that I was told would be handled when I came in to get the photos taken, she told me to not worry about those forms; she would take care of them when I came in. I asked several times when I could come in, stressing to her that time was very short and I would probably need expedited passports to ensure everything came in on time. She pulled out her calendar and we made an appointment for the girls and me to come in on the morning of Day 6 of our PCS process. She told me that the appointment would last approximately 45 minutes, and to come ready for photos. I asked her if I needed to bring anything else for the appointment and was assured that I had everything I needed.<br />
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While I was there, I made an appointment to see a Household Goods (HHG) counselor so I could schedule my pack out dates. Even though I'm not moving during "PCS Season", I wanted to make sure I could lock in the appropriate dates for a smooth PCS. As luck would have it, there was an opening after lunch on Day 6. We could knock out the passports, grab a quick bite to eat, then come back to the same place and bang out HHG. Things were starting to look up.<br />
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The next day, on Day 5, the girls and I got started with "The Great Purging". Starting in the Triathlon Room, and moving to the Laundry Room, we grabbed big white trash bags and labeled them: DONATE and TRASH. The Triathlon Room has a wall of shelves built in, so we labeled them with HHG/UB, DONATE/SELL, and NTS. By the end of the day, we had taken 5 garbage bags of donations to the van, 3 bags of trash to the curb, and the Triathlon Room was tidy. For the first time in years, I can walk in that room without stubbing my toe, tripping, or having to kick things out of the way. PCS' are fantastic at making sure you don't become a packrat for too long... but more on that later.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-60265617887707872952015-09-26T13:14:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:06:22.276-05:00The Great Big Korean Adventure, Day 4: The Passport OfficeAh, the Passport Office on post. I remember the Passport Office at Fort Carson being super helpful, and very understanding with the difficulties that come with an OCONUS PCS with small children. He was an expert in his field, knowing exactly how the paperwork needed to be filled out under every circumstance. He explained every step, and even (gasp) gave us a checklist so we wouldn't forget to bring an important piece of information. I was amazed that he held all of the knowledge of what the State Department needed without looking up every detail. His response? "Ma'am, it's my job. The only thing I do for 40 hours a week is help people get their Official Passports. If I don't know the regulations, why would I continue to have a job?" I mistakenly assumed that our Passport Office would be the same way.<br />
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When Sweet Baboo was prepping for his PCS to Korea, I heard him grumbling about the Passport Office here. A chorus of other people chimed in with the grumblings. Through my rose colored glasses, I was simply <i>sure</i> of the fact that it couldn't be that bad. But it was. Oh, was it bad.<br />
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The week I sent all of our Command Sponsorship Exception to Policy paperwork to Sweet Baboo, I went to the Passport Office on post to gather information about getting our Official No-Fee Passports updated. I was given a sheet of paper and told that I had to wait until the CS got approved before I could move forward. At least I got the sheet of paper, right?<br />
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A few weeks later, on Day 4 (Monday), I went into the Passport Office with my super-organized PCS Notebook and all of the necessary documents. I was so proud of myself for having the forethought to stop by the place weeks earlier so I didn't waste my time or have to ping-pong back and forth to go fetch more paperwork. The girls dressed themselves, in their sparkliest outfits and were excited to check another block off our list. When we got there, however, our fire fizzled.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-30688273549542266722015-09-25T11:55:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:06:53.316-05:00The Great Big Korean Adventure, Days 2-4: Sweet Baboo Goes House HuntingSo while drinking a delicious glass of wine, we learned that Sweet Baboo would have to <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-setting.html" target="_blank">acquire our Korean home</a> before we could even leave the US. My anxiety instantly and exponentially spiked when I realized the potential consequences of this little detail.<br />
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In the beginning years of our marriage, Sweet Baboo and I made the decision to let me handle most things pertaining to how the house would be run, and he would deal with how his office would operate. I don't go to his office and tell him how to set up his desk; he doesn't tell me which kitchen is best suited for my work. Ever since we came to that agreement, house shopping and dwelling blissfully has been on cruise control. That isn't to say that he gets no say in how we set up the house; but he realizes that between his day-job and the many travels he tends to take, our home some times feels like a hotel room for him. So it is my job to pick the home.<br />
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Until the Army fires me from that job.<br />
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Thank the high heavens for Facetime! And for patient realtors who do not make their clients feel weird for doing a virtual walk through, live. And for awesome roller derby coaches who stay behind after practice so we can finish a walk through in one of the homes. And, most importantly, for husbands who realize the importance of letting their wives be as involved as humanly (and technologically) involved as possible.<br />
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But before the tours, we needed to decide what we could afford. Here's the kind of scary part: we get paid in US Dollars. But we will pay our rent in Korean Won. And our allowance won't immediately reflect the exchange rate changes. So we wanted to make sure we stayed pretty well below our OHA cap. I went <a href="http://www.defensetravel.dod.mil/site/ohaCalc.cfm" target="_blank">here</a> to find our budget.<br />
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Next, Sweet Baboo sent me a list of furniture that we would be able to borrow from the Army to furnish our new home. Remember that mess about potentially not being able to bring the 50% weight allowance? You can't be expected to sleep on the floor, so the Army keeps loaner furniture over there to save money on shipping our furniture. The furniture isn't top of the line, but it's something. And I'm grateful for the service.<br />
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Finally, I gave Sweet Baboo my "please, please, please, oh puhleeeeeese look for places with this..." list. It includes such items as "a kitchen that I can actually cook and enjoy cooking in", "a space large enough for us to do homeschool in", and (since I <i>do</i> want this to be an <u>adventure</u>) "as authentically Korean as possible". We don't get to live on post, so if we're going to live on the economy, I want to "live as the Koreans do". It's only temporary, right?<br />
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I did have a second list. It was my "but if you can make <i>this</i> happen, I'd be forever appreciative". This list had items like "if we're going to live in a high rise apartment, please put up <u>high</u> so we can enjoy the views!", "a view from the kitchen sink would be fantastic", "plenty of closet space so I don't have to fold much laundry", and "somewhere to put The Beast".<br />
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Sweet Baboo came through!<br />
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We have no pictures of the new home just yet. You'll have to wait until I can get there and pull out Lux. But until then, here's what I know:<br />
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* 19th floor<br />
* Beautiful view from the kitchen sink<br />
* Awesome kitchen sink (this was very important to Sweet Baboo)<br />
* 4 bedrooms, 2 baths<br />
* Hardwood floors throughout<br />
* A cafe and two small grocery stores in the building<br />
* Fantastic enclosed patio<br />
* Closets in every bedroom<br />
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I'm pretty excited, and I'm proud of my husband for jumping through hoops to make sure I'm as involved as I can be from the other side of the world. I married an amazing man, and worry that I don't tell him often enough how much I appreciate him.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4138639571464455729.post-64575746385947487562015-09-25T02:06:00.000-05:002015-10-17T01:07:18.838-05:00The Great Big Korean Adventure, Day 1: Setting up for a Proper PCS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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So, you have your wish list sorted out: Soldier has sought the wisdom of the elders in his MOS, Wife has asked around the "Army Wife Mafia" (as Sweet Baboo likes to call it), and both have come together at the Negotiation Table to sort through each person's desires. The kids want Hawaii, but the Soldier doubts he will get the billet because he lacks a certain school. Wife wants Europe, but Soldier is the wrong rank for the position. Soldier wants Korea because he had a fantastic time the first time he was there, and would love for the family to experience it with him. Plea bargains get tossed around, and finally the wish list is written out. With Korea at the top. And the Army gives the awesome family their wish: Soldier goes to Korea. But wait! We want to go as well! <a href="http://spunkysoulscenes.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-great-big-korean-adventure-back.html" target="_blank">That story has been written</a>. Let's move forward.<br />
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Every PCS has a lot of the same hurdles for each family to navigate (I'm looking at you, HHG and Housing!), but the hurdles look very different from one PCS to another. For instance, Sweet Baboo had close to 6 months to out process our duty station here, pack 230 pounds of professional and personal gear, and head out to his new job in Korea... and he had our "help". When we got the orders that allows the girls and myself to join him in Korea, we got 60 days to get there. 60 days! Seems like a lot, right? Here is what the first week of those 60 days looks like:<br />
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Day 1:<br />
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Purchase a 1.5" binder with lots of page protectors and tabbed dividers to organize all of the billion pages you'll have to keep track of. Set up the binder and label the super important sections. Print out no less than ten copies of the orders and have them at the ready to hand out to the dozen organizations/companies that will need them to help you move. Sit back, exhale dramatically for a moment as you try to convince yourself that your binder will be big enough. Then realize that you'll need at least 2.5" and even more page protectors. Things are about to get crazy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEYKgAuGudPsW8lpZM0exDFA2Avu30sOoVikmymwGoonW62wDsEnKoYVs9K-BdDM1KHTCjoNMxEYpnD11K3EjdNBJF0oJaJsNH_09ohPZD-7exQNiuxeiJBNy7fYlKyVYIRwu5xTXTYro/s1600/IMG_4354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEYKgAuGudPsW8lpZM0exDFA2Avu30sOoVikmymwGoonW62wDsEnKoYVs9K-BdDM1KHTCjoNMxEYpnD11K3EjdNBJF0oJaJsNH_09ohPZD-7exQNiuxeiJBNy7fYlKyVYIRwu5xTXTYro/s400/IMG_4354.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginnings of a smooth PCS: smoothie for energy, PCS binder to keep those documents together, iPad with a data plan to look stuff up (and for entertainment in waiting rooms), pen, highlighter (and the pencils are in my hair). Things are about to get real!</td></tr>
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Immediately fill out a calendar in pencil, and invest heavily in erasers. Because you're going to have to pick dates. And then you're going to have to change them. You're going to need to schedule your HHG (household goods) shipment (the "slow boat to Korea"). We're going OCONUS (Outside of the Continental United States) we we will also need to schedule our Unaccompanied Baggage (aka: Express Shipment... the airplane) and our Non-Temp Storage (things we can't take overseas, and need to be stored while we're over there). We are entitled to ship one POV (personally owned vehicle) at the government's expense, so we'll have to do research to figure out which one to ship, and what to do with the other one. When should we ship it?<br />
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There's an art to all of this, of course. I handle it by mapping out the dates and visualizing how life will be over the next 60 days. Backwards planning gets me started... but I always seem to have that all-important eraser handy for the changes. Because: math. You see, UB takes between 30 and 45 days to get to Korea. The purpose of this shipment is to send your "super important stuff" over as quickly as possible so you don't go without it for very long. These are things like your bed sheets, your towels, maybe a vacuum cleaner and mop, clothes for the next season (if you'll be making the move when the seasons will be making dramatic changes), etc. HHG takes the slow boat over, and can take anywhere from 3-6 months (I've heard some crazy stories on the timelines here) to arrive. So pack your decorations, your book shelves, and your furniture... but learn to eat standing up, and sit on the floor if you don't get all of the loaner furniture you want.<br />
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When dealing with HHG, you have to consider the math. Not just the timing... the weight. Each family has a weight allowance for what we are authorized to ship at government expense. If we go over that amount, we pay. The weight allowance is based off of Soldier's rank, and number of dependents. We get 13,500 pounds. Total. What I ship to Korea on the slow boat, on the airplane, and what goes into storage all needs to equal less than 13,500 (not including our vehicle). How the heck are we supposed to know how much our household goods weigh? Take a look around. Go from room to room and guess how much your stuff weighs. Yeah. It's pretty tough. The Personal Property Office tells you to average it out to be about 1,000 pounds per room in your house (obviously, your bathrooms will be less... your garage will be more).<br />
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But I have certain directives I have to follow with the weight allowances. For instance the UB is the most expensive form of moving my stuff, so I max out at 350 pounds for every dependent over 12, and 175 pounds for every dependent 11 and under. Since we're moving to Korea, shipping a lot of our HHG is still expensive on the government so we're capped at at 50% of our allowance. (My PPO counselor tried to tell me that I was capped out at 25%, but I asked her to reference the regulation that said 25% because the most updated JFTR that I read still stated 50%. That's a big difference, people! It's the difference between 6,750 pounds of my stuff, and 3,375 pounds.) And all of those weights, plus what Sweet Baboo has already shipped to Korea, has to add up to no more than 13,500 pounds. Whew!<br />
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So a divider in my binder goes specifically to "Pack It". There are subdividers that break up lists of "HHG", "UB", "NTS", and "Get It OUT!". As I'm going about my day, doing the dishes and whatnot, if I see something that I don't think I'll need in Korea I'll ask myself if I'll want to unpack it in two years. If the answer is no, I'll put it on a list in the "Get It OUT!" section of the book. Then, when the time comes to go through the house with a fine-tooth comb, I can pile the stuff together appropriately and know what is going where.<br />
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Then, I plan some more. Since the vast majority of our stuff (approximately 9,195 pounds' worth) is going to NTS, I'll probably schedule that pack-out last. It will have almost all of our furniture, most of our dishes, and lots of our clothes. I want my express shipment to get there ASAP because I don't want to sleep in a sleeping bag for longer than I have to. So that will be the very first thing I need to schedule. And so on... and so forth.<br />
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I haphazardly toss the date for taking the POV to port based on when I think I could step away from the craziness long enough to take a day-trip to Atlanta and back so we can get the vehicle on its way. Then I start an inventory in our deep freezer so we can eat the entire contents in the next 45 days. That way, I can defrost it, drain it, clean it, dry it out completely, and have it ready to store. I make a mental note to pull out all birth certificates, marriage certificates, passports, and other legal documents so they can be handy for this craziness. And then I sit down for the first time with a big glass of wine to read over the rest of the orders and make sure I'm not missing anything. And that's when I see it: we are not even <b>authorized to leave CONUS until Sweet Baboo has acquired housing for us.</b> But that's a blog post for another day. Day 2, to be exact.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sIZ-Vj2QVJzK_XDCuoHyqd_PYfAwpKYryIX0kl8kZMlX1vsWPPe4f1Mie42B3OPVyn9OTtjTA3CkIGKIsbT5nLgKGDC03hk2KiKFwIU5MvwJ3BJf81cJv698xXgu3iZ68KbusTbk5BeH/s1600/IMG_4355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sIZ-Vj2QVJzK_XDCuoHyqd_PYfAwpKYryIX0kl8kZMlX1vsWPPe4f1Mie42B3OPVyn9OTtjTA3CkIGKIsbT5nLgKGDC03hk2KiKFwIU5MvwJ3BJf81cJv698xXgu3iZ68KbusTbk5BeH/s400/IMG_4355.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's REALLY necessary in the PCS Planning Process: organizational skills, a great glass of wine, and the ability to step away and get some fresh air in your current duty station before you really start to miss it.</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0