A typical day in London

Well, it's been over a month since we moved here and we've been getting settled in and sorted out very slowly. We did find a fabulous flat and are scheduled to move in just in time for Christmas! Until then, we are in our temporary housing and most of our belongings are in storage. We're still learning the lay of the land, so to speak, and I'm remembering how incredibly spoiled we are in America to have everything so easily at our fingertips, practically as soon as we wish for it.

Here, on the other hand, things are not so easy and days can be filled with trying to accomplish a simple task. Although I hate to dispel any notions of glamorous afternoons filled with long-lunches, culture and social activities followed by pub & party-filled nights, I have to tell it like it is. For instance, yesterday I went to the drycleaners. They were going to charge $ 9 to clean a sweater that costed me $12 in Vietnam so I decided to hand wash it. I went to the local market to look for some Woolite or comparable hand-washing liquid. They didn't have any but referred me to Costcutter around the corner. They didn't have any either but some friendly customers sent me to another market down the street, around the corner from my house (meanwhile I've been going to the one 10-15 minutes away and didn't even know this one was here). They, of course, didn't have it so I went to the DIY shop ("do-it-yourself") down the road. All the while, I am pushing a stroller (or pram, as they say) down cobble-stone streets with one hand and trying to keep my Starbuck's ginger-bread latte from spilling in the other, while navigating the potholes and looking both ways while crossing the streets to keep us from getting hit from someone driving on the wrong side of the road (they drive on the left. remember?) - not an easy task. Needless to say, the DIY shop didn't have the soap but they did have a bucket, which I'd spent weeks earlier searching for.

Finally, I gave up and went back to the market to get some food. Trying to get through the crowded aisles with a stroller and a basket was just too much and when I saw the line, so I abandoned my basket and went home hungry, and without any soap-( Luckily, I found out that most grocery stores deliver -- a service I intend on fully utilizing once we get settled into our new place).

In the evening, Daniel had his INSEAD alumni Christmas party so we decided to hire a baby-sitter and go out for the first time here without Rome. It costed us $60 for three hours!! Yes, 10 pounds per hour is $20 US. And that's quite cheap since she was Eastern European. The party wasn't too far but the taxi to and from was $45 and it took about 20-25 minutes each way with traffic. All for two hours of socializing and 5 glasses of cheap champagne!! It was worth it, I guess, since I needed to get out.......and when we turned the corner from our house and saw the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben and the beautiful architecture and scenery along the river embankment, I remembered why we are here. Yes, we will have our challenges and difficulties, but the beauty, the culture and history of this place all comes along with that.

I'm hoping things get easier once we get into our new place and learn where everything is -- and once we get our belongings from storage. Until then, I promised myself I should walk around the corner and see the sights daily. It was raining just a few moments ago, but I think it has stopped and I see blue skies peeking through the clouds. I must go now and take advantage of the weather and my surroundings -- and continue my search for some Woolite!!!

Angels Singing at the Royal Albert Hall

Feeling very lonely and in need of a little social activity last Sunday afternoon, we called our friends Peter and Rasha. They invited us to a very special performance that evening at the Royal Albert Hall where Peter, and three-quarters of the audience, are part of the choir singing Hendel's Messiah. They had one extra ticket and said it wouldn't be a problem to get another. "What about the baby?" we asked. "Rome? Not a problem" they said. So we ventured onto the tube carrying him, pram and all, up and down the several flights of stairs as we changed trains to reach our destination (this is a two person job. I did it once myself and hope to never have to do it again!).

When we got there, we found out that the show was completely sold out and there were no babies allowed. Peter and Daniel went looking for a ticket anyway but there was not a scalper in sight as everyone actaully shows up for this big event - especially since most of the audience is actually performing. Next thing I knew, Peter came back telling us Daniel was in - somehow his mother, who also sings each year, snuck him in! Now we only had to get Rome in.
We made it past the first set of guards at the door who let us pass through but not without a suspicious glare.

Luckily, the two tickets we had were for the platform and not seats since Rasha's usual guest is a disabled woman who sits in her wheelchair while Rasha helps turn the pages of her book as she sings. She couldn't make it this year- hence the extra ticket. The guards inside were much more strict and let us know immediately that there were no babies allowed. Rasha was trying to convince them that we had special permission and that's why we had the platform seats for his stroller, etc., etc. They paused and looked at each other, then at Rome as if they were wondering if they should believe us and "who is this special baby and why was he granted special permission?". Suddenly Rome, as if on cue, shot them his huge double-dimple smile and reached out to grab the hand of the female guard. They immediately became disarmed, smiled right back and both agreed it would be o.k., as long as we took him out if he started to make noise.

So we took our seats and held our breath during the very long introduction as we hoped Rome wouldn't make a sound. Finally the music began but it was only a soloist and small orchestra. A pin drop would have been heard over this. As we grew more nervous, Rome got more excited and decided to "sing" along. Daniel immediately walked him out and didn't return until everyone was singing loudly. Rome was very good for the most part, watching everyone quietly, but when they stopped, he would smile ad coo, trying to be heard through the silence - out the door again. We took turns doing this for a while until he finally fell asleep.

After that we were able to take in the spectacular sights and sounds of the evening. On our left were all silver-haired and shiny-headed bald men clad in dark blue suits singing alto. Ahead and to our right were the alto-singing women wearing as many shades of blue as they had hair colors and across from us, the seats were filled with people all in red, singing high and mighty with their soprano notes. The entire room was filled with the sound of over two thousand voices all in tune. It was very powerful.

Right as Hendel's "Hallelujah" was about to begin an elderly man (in his 80s or possibly 90s) sitting in back of Peter collapsed and then a group of people jumped up, surrounded him and lifted him up as the entire room began the song. Our friend Rasha, a cardiologist, rushed over to help and they swiftly carried him out of the room. The singer's continued on with the hymn and it became louder and more intense, as the song was meant to be performed. The exciting and tragic events of the night, along with the emotions of the week and the entire month, seemed to be rising and bubbling up until it was so overwhelming, I burst into tears. Even Daniel got a little choked up and we looked at each other with an understanding of what just happened, and how the course of an evening, or of an entire life can change in an instant.

Rome slept through the entire incident, smiling so sweetly and content. I wondered what he was dreaming about as he lay in my arms. Maybe about drinking milk and playing with his new toys, or maybe that he was singing along with the angels that surrounded us at the Royal Albert Hall that night.