Rubbish

Americans take waste disposal very seriously.

First you have to wrap your head around the terminology. Rubbish goes in the 'trash can', which subsequently goes to the 'garbage' and if you are really lucky you might have a 'dumpster' for extra capacity. (I think trash and garbage maybe fairly interchangeable terms, still working on deciphering that nuance.)

Fast and ready made food is the norm. Everything comes in a packet or a tray, with layers of plastic and foil. Even disposable cooking containers are included in your 'take home to cook' meal. So you would think a family of seven, with ravenous teenage boys would be well able to keep up. Sadly no.

Each house along our street has a massive bin on wheels (about twice the capacity of our wheely bin in Wellington) and this gets collected twice a week. I feel embarrassed when I put my bin out, only half full once a week.  In Wellington I had to sneak my excess rubbish into the bins of my neighbours, but in Powell I am seriously considering acquiring trash just to put into my bin.

I cant even blame recycling. While there is a center I can take our cardboard and plastic, a couple of blocks away. If I save the planet - I am in danger of being even further away from my goal.

What's wrong with us? At first I thought it was just because we were new, and hadn't yet got to the throw out stage of the consumer cycle, but all that packaging material from the new things we did buy seemed to be endless. Now sadly all gone. Maybe we aren't doing enough home improvements, or lawn maintenance. We are surely shirking our consumer responsibilities. I fear there is only a limited time before we will be shunned.

If an abundant life is a full bin..... we are not yet living it.

Our beautiful big bin.

Afternoon Thunderstorms!

One of the peculiarities of the hot dry weather is the lightning. Most days in the mid afternoon, black clouds gather, fork lightning sparks across the sky, and thunder cracks overhead. It all happens in an instant and then it is over as quickly as it appeared.

As equally surprising is the reaction of the locals. There is a puzzling mix of calm and panic when lightning appears. 'Time to head back to the shore, you dont want to be in the water when that lightning strikes.' or 'you may want to move off the field and back into your car, just till it passes'.

Having grown up on a steady diet of american horror movies. I use my knowledge gleaned from 'Poltergeist' to time the intervals between the lightning bolts and the thunder, to determine how far away the storm is and if it is moving towards me. I have my doubts about if this really works, but it does give me a quick thrill.

Sometimes the thunder and lightning is accompanied by a downpour of rain. It can be ferocious! Inevitably I have left the windows down on the car, and have to make a mercy dash to close them. I dont mind, its hot and the big thick drops are refreshingly cool. While I wait out the rain I have a few precious moments of solitude.

My first thought is, I wonder if I can get away with not watering the lawn tonight?

The sky blackens as the storm approaches.

Driving Miss Daisy

I had a nightmare last night that I was driving on the wrong side of the road trying frantically not to get killed. Fortunately despite the panic of recognizing I was on the left, cars seemed to compensate for my error and pass me courteously with a smile and a wave.

Of course this is actually my everyday reality.

I love driving, and I love driving in the States. The roads are big, the cars are big and air conditioning and cruise control are standard. I also love the digital compass and temperature readings especially since I can set it to celsius.

I am getting American driving down to a fine art. I look natural cruising down the road in the work pickup with my extra large soda in my oversized cup holder. Balancing the extraction of a packet of dill flavoured sunflower seeds with the necessary occasional friendly wave. I probably need a cowboy hat to really make the picture perfect but I cant bring myself to buy one, that right of passage needs to be bestowed not usurped.

There are still the annoyances of a lifetime of driving on the opposite side of the road though. In a hurry I often jump into a vehicle set to drive, only to find there is no steering wheel in front of me. When I am backing I always twist my body the wrong way to see. The worst is when I am in the passenger seat and constantly looking at the rear view mirror expecting to see something.

So far I have managed to avoid a major mishap. I check my position on the road constantly, look for vehicles in front of me for cues on speed and courtesy, and if in doubt move really really slowly. I may drive like a Nana, but at least I am alive.

Friends Corvette outside our place.

You are a number

In my preparation to work here I knew I would have to get a social security number. Obviously the IRS would need something to match me to my taxes. (Their moto: Tax first... ask questions later). But I was unprepared for everyone else that would want that number.

Phone companies, utilities, driver license place, and of course you need a social security number if you want to have a bank account.

It became pretty apparent that I needed to get one of these as soon as possible. After I got my green card, it says I can now apply for a social security number. So we drive to the nearest office in Cody. It is on the 2nd floor of a unassuming brick building on the main street. One thing to mention here is that there are no ground floors in America. So the 2nd floor is actually only one floor up from the street level. This has me mightly confused for awhile especially as we take the elevator.

The little office's most prominent feature is the huge man in impressive uniform standing guard. He sizes me up and lets me know the procedure. 'Fill out the form - take a number', to another guy he lays down the law 'Is that a leather-man sir? - its against federal legislation to have knife in this office'.

I fill out the form, minus the social security number, the first thing the lady says to me is 'Sir you haven't filled out your social security number' - I explain that this is why I have come.... she gives a gasp. After some frantic typing on the computer and some anxious pauses, blood finally returns to her face. 'I need to ask you some questions, have you ever had a job?, have you got a drivers license?, do you have a bank account?, have you done any study?, have you applied for welfare?'. I answer dutifully 'no' to each of these questions till it dawns on me that there is no way I can get any of those things unless I have a social security number. Is she mocking me?

While I wait, I read the pamphlet on how retirement payments work: My contributions now will fund todays elderly. When I am old, there wont be enough young people working to fund me, so prepare to fend for yourself. It is good to see that some things work the same in both countries.

Finally she hands me a receipt and tells me my card with number will come in the post in 2 weeks. She cant give me the number yet, its generated somewhere else, I will have to wait.

I take the one flight of stairs down to exit the building. I know that searching for the ground floor button in the elevator will just frustrate me.

The next day my father in law calls to tell me my social security number has come in the mail.  This leaves me wondering. Have I been wrong, is the US government super efficient, or will I soon have two social security numbers?

School Begins

Its 6.10am this is a big day, the first day of school and the boys are ecstatic.

They are all in the car at 7.30 chomping at the bit. Its the first time that the children are waiting for the parents. It makes no difference to be early, they cant enter school till exactly 7.50 and school starts at 8. Its going to be a long day - the middle school boys each have 10 periods, 40 mins each, swapping from class to class. School lets out at 3.15 but then football practice (everyday) till 6pm.

The buildings are massive brick edifices. Not much to look at from the outside, very square with small windows, not even a hint of colour. Inside they open like a tartis to large halls with rows of orange lockers, common areas and a massive gym. All designed as a refuge for the bitter winter which is to come.

Each grade has a different lunch break and the kids are excited about cafeteria food. Monday is Pizza. You can also come for breakfast, its almost a one stop shop.

5 grades in Elementary school, 3 in Middle, and 4 in High school. We are closest to the High School, then the Middle School and the Elementary School is the furthest away. The big boy has seminary so he is away at 7am, he returns exhausted and flops into bed. The other boys can take a shuttle bus between the schools so there is only one pick up and drop off. They like the adventure.

Monday night we are bombarded by paperwork. Each child has several layers of forms to get through. Indemnity from accident, contracts for conduct, agreements for academic achievement.

Its going to be a big year.

Parkside Elementary School. The kids are not allowed on the playground without supervision by the teachers.

Beds a plenty.

One of the strange oddities of our donated abundance is that we have ended up with 3 queen sized beds. I am not sure what happened. We did need beds, but for some reason, more have turned up than we indicated we could use. These are good beds too, seemingly brand new. Its like there are all these queen beds in Powell desperate for a home, and they knew that the Cherian's wouldn't turn them away.

Since we have little else in the way of furniture we certainly have the room but it does seem a bit 'over kill'.

Maybe we should join all three together in one room and sleep as a family in a row. Like they did in the old days.

I am not sure I want the boys especially the older boys to get use to sleeping in a big bed. Once they go large they may never be content to be in single beds again.

Perhaps I have just got it all wrong and actually queen size is the default bed size here, just like extra large is the default drink size. I should just suck it up and enjoy!

Living the American Dream

People have been asking me for ages what I am planning to do in the States. I've been offering up all manner of off the wall answers including working at McDonalds and working on isle 13 at Walmart. Lately I have been resorting to the truth... I have no idea! Not many people know what to do with that. Especially here, there is alway a plan, and often several of them at the same time. The only reason you wouldn't have a plan is if you have loss your hope or just plain hopeless.

Its the American dream to have a plan, and living in this land it is expected that you have a reasonable shoot at achieving whatever plan you have. Education is accessible, food affordable, and safety pretty much assured.

At the basis of the American Dream is the simple ethos that if you work hard you can live abundantly. And so people work hard, really hard. I hear them outside my window early in the morning getting up for work, then late at night coming back from their second or third job. This level of intensity extends to everything, school, sports, extracurricular activities, even church. And accompanying the hive of activity - there is the abundance!

We are living off that abundance, our house is furnished with good quality hand me downs generously donated, our recreation is facilitated by others willingness to share their toys. But in the background of peoples mind is the haunting question, what are they up too, how are they going to sustain this.

So the question of work is never to far away. I figured we would wait until the kids go back to school, have the house to ourselves for a bit and then Lyndi and I would look at the options. No need to rush these things.

However one of our new neighbourhood friends who own a small business cleaning carpets and who do fire and flood restoration work, needed to terminate ( I love that word) one of their employees suddenly. So they payed me a visit.

The next morning I got up early.... saw some of my neighbours for the first time, as we headed out to work together.

Living the dream baby, living the dream.

Its the people that you meet.....

Powell is very friendly. People wave when their driving, stop in the street to talk, and walk round the neighbourhood chatting.

Its amazing the New Zealand connections we have found here. There is a part Samoan family from Hamilton, a woman who works at the pool from Christchurch, a student activities coordinator from the College who spent a year honeymoon touring and working in New Zealand, and despite Rugby not being a sport here, everyone seems to know about the All Blacks! (my older boys are gutted they are missing out on the RWC... fortunately their grandfather has the rugby channel)

Many people have asked me about Christchurch.

Powell people are also meticulous with their yards. It might be a desert thing, trying to escape the brown, sprinklers buzz away at dusk, and a rolling green of immaculate lawn spans property to property. The grass is thick and lush, and parts of the town like the college, church and school grounds look like perfect green carpet that has been laid out to greet the weary Wyoming traveller. Despite the invitation, no one rests, instead an army of retired men push or ride mowers and pluck out any emerging weeds. This is serious business, not for the novice.

Our lawn is somewhat lacking. The owner overseas when the previous tenant left, came back to find an unwatered lawn burnt to a crisp in the hot dry sun. Our foremost responsibility in renting the house is to restore the section, and with it its reputation in the neighbourhood. Sprinklers mended and adjusted, fertilizer spread, pump primed. Each night a ritual repeated to ensure water gets to the badly parched ground. My efforts rewarded, cucumber and zucchini from the neighbour who appreciates my attempts to repair the rift that marked our boundaries. Success: after a couple of weeks I have a pretty good rug.

Our landlord Abdel is from Morocco. The moment I heard his name, I knew we would be living in his house. Who would have thought the first Moroccan I would ever meet would be here. Having come to the US to study, he has stayed on and made his life here now working as a researcher for the University of Wyoming. I think he may be the only muslim person in Powell!

Our house, the lawn doesn't look too bad from this distance, but notice the brown in front. 

All those Medical Dramas Come to Life

Tonight we tested the Health Care system!

Number 2 son had a spectacular crash off a neighbours bike and poured 'blood into the streets'.
We rushed him to the local hospital ER department. He is fine. Lots of dents, and a few stitches but no broken bones. It might put a slight dampener on his middle (intermediate) school football career due to start on Monday. Then again he might have some impressive scars to show off.

You have to be impressed by US Hospitals. Even in this tiny town their facilities were first class. I certainly didn't see a national crisis, and I have to admit that the environment oozed with competency. You feel very safe in there. I might not feel so wonderful when I get the bill..... and that might be the part of the crisis (national and personal) that I am missing.

Funnily enough. The attending physician had spent some time in New Zealand in 1987 working with Green-Peace and was the ship doctor on a trip to Antarctica. She arrived soon after the Rainbow Warrior bombing and helped with transporting it to its final resting place in Northland.

Its a small world people!

Getting Started!

So I have been in the States now for almost three weeks. Having visited many times before, most things are not new to me. But coming to live for a year is a unique opportunity to study these strange creatures we call Americans in their natural environment.

For our headquarters we have chosen Powell, Wyoming, population 5630 in a State of approximately 563,000 (the least populated State in the US). With a land mass equivalent to New Zealand. It is as different from Wellington and New Zealand as you can possibly get. Wyoming is desert bordering the rocky mountains, its elevation is high and so in the Summer it can get to 45 degrees and in the winter it can get to -45 degrees. It is extremely dry but in the mountains it snows heavily and the run off in the summer is massive. The area relies heavily on irrigation to farm the land and wherever the water does not touch it is a barren wasteland.

Powell is in the North West corner of the state in what is called the Big Horn basin. It is completely flat but in the distance surrounding it are the Big Horn and Beartooth Mountains. Past the Beartooths to the west are the rocky mountains that separate Wyoming from neighbouring Idaho, and which include the US national park jewels, Yellowstone and Grand Tetons.

Yellowstone is worth a special mention. It is a huge caldera (inverse volcano), which the Rocky Mountains run through. It is the equivalent of Rotorua and Taupo, with geysers, boiling mud and hot water rivers. It big difference is that it is home to America's BIG wildlife - buffalo, elk, wolves, moose and bears! People come in their droves from all over the US and the world to see it, making the entrance towns of Jackson Hole and Cody (half hour to the south of Powell) major tourist meccas.

Powell is largely a farming community, but it does host a significant junior university, Northwest College. So young people from all over the region come here to study. So there is a varied mix of farmers, labourers, academics, and students. Being in the mountain west the people are mostly conservative, republican and religious. They enjoy the outdoors, with hunting, hiking, boating, and four wheeling in the Summer, and skiing, and snow mobiling in the Winter. Much of the land in Wyoming is unusable for much so the Government owns much of the barren parts and opens it to the public for recreation. Because the state is large and towns are small there is a lot of driving to get to anywhere else. The closest big city is Billings, Montana one and a half hours drive to the northeast.

So we have come Lyndi and I with our five boys (14 - 6) to experience small town America and to be close to Lyndi's parents who retired here from Seattle 9 years ago. Its going to be an adventure, I hope I do a good job of taking you along for the ride.

Wikipedia about Powell

Powell fields with the distinctive 'Heart Mountain' in the background.