Round The Ball: Lent – 2009

House hunting has been all about pounding the pavement, making phone calls, arranging “viewings,” and pestering the “estate agents.”  In London, an agent (much like a real estate agent in the U.S.) advertises flat-rentals for the owner, so you engage with the agent at every step up until the lease is signed.  There are literally hundreds of estate agent offices in every neighborhood – sometimes on every corner.  And there are at least 10 websites to check for listings . . . from the London version of Craig’s List to sites like www.loot.com and www.gumtree.com.

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My daily routine for the past week has been as follows.  Late at night, while our kids are sleeping away in their beds right next to ours, I scour the web for new listings in our area.  In the morning after 9 a.m. I begin calling estate agents and asking if they’re available for any viewings.  Then I commence the 1 hour train commute from where we’re staying to our new neighborhood: Tower Hamlets in the East End.  Every other day, Pam and the kids have come in with me too.

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When I get to the neighborhood, I walk through the streets, looking for rental signs and stopping into estate agent offices.  I’ve managed to see about 3 or 4 flats per day.  Some are just too small, some are too large.  Some have a really lousy floor-plan.  Some are really promising but the kitchen’s too small.  Interestingly enough, none of them are really in fantastic shape.  It strikes me that Londoners don’t clean voraciously on their way out of a flat the way we do in the U.S.  So it’s always surprising to me to be shown a filthy dirty flat and expected to pay so much for it.

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I love the neighborhood we’re looking in.  It’s just so perfect for us right now . . . sort of a dream come true for both me and Pam.  As you walk down Whitechapel Road or Canon Street, you are overwhelmed with the sights, sounds and smells of Muslim Bengali life.  Aromas of spiced-curried lentils waft through the air.  Older Bengali men in traditional dress stand around and chat.  Muslim women in their head-coverings push fancy British double-strollers.  A large outdoor street-market rumbles with barter and trade.  If you take the right steps, you’d swear you were in Bangladesh.  It’s just absolutely fascinating.  You’re not going to like this, but you just have to come see for yourself to really take in what it’s like here.  (And we’re on the lookout for a 3 bedroom flat so we have guest space when you come!)

Wednesday was really a great day for us.  The kids did incredibly well as we crossed town from the Middletons’ (in the West End) to our soon-to-be neighborhood in the East End.  That involved 3 subway changes in as many stations, plus a ten minute walk on both ends of the journey . . . but getting through town was an exciting part of the adventure!

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We went straight to the Hayes’ flat in Shadwell . . . they’re the InnerCHANGE folks we’ll be team with from here on out.  It was really exciting to step off the train, smell the curry scents wafting through the air, see the muslim men standing around talking on the sidewalk, and then be greeted by the smiling Deanna Hayes at her doorstep!

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 Our afternoon involved walking through the neighborhood with Deanna (our kids stayed behind with the Hayes’ girls and John) and viewing a few apartments that are up for rent.  We stepped onto Mile End road here in East London, near the Whitechapel Tube (subway) station, and we might as well have been in Bangladesh.  The streets were filled with so many south-Asian men and women in their traditional dress.  A large street-market bustled with commerce.  And shiny red double-decker London buses zipped by the busy High Street.

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It’s a really different feeling walking down streets you know will soon be your home, soon become familiar.  Every sight, sound and smell becomes an invitation . .  . a footpath to wander down into the future.

Our kids really were doing great yesterday – their first day in London – even on an abbreviated night’s sleep and major jet-lag.  Jesse, however, had a slightly major melt-down when we attempted to put him down for a nap in the afternoon – and an even more explosive melt-down when we attempted to wake him up from said nap.  (I will always savor the irony of fighting going to sleep and then fighting waking up all in the same afternoon.)

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The meltdown hadn’t mellowed even though we had moved our kids and the Middleton family out the door and down the street to the park.  While Luci played happily on the slides and swings, Jesse sat in the stroller and roared his frustration at the world.  “I want to go home!” was about all he could get out between sobs and screaming fits.  I wasn’t sure what home he was talking about . . . San Francisco?  Grandma & Grandpa’s?  The Middletons?  That’s when I realized, in my own confusion, just how frustrated and disoriented Jesse probably felt.

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We finally gave up on the playground idea and Pam conceded to take him home while I stayed with Luci on the playground.  Midway through the u-turn back towards the house, though, Jesse began screaming for Dad and Luci.  Not content to return to our hosts’ home with Mommy alone, Jesse wanted all of us to go together.

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Turns out, “home” wasn’t any house at all — it was the four of us sticking together during a tough transition.  When Luci and I joined he and Pam for the walk back, Jesse immediately calmed down and had a pleasant evening (and slept a GREAT 12 hours that night.)  There’s a strangely bonding thing happening to our little foursome: we’re the only thing we’ve got in many ways . . . and without a home to dwell in, our “home” has become the power of simply being together.  Jesse taught me that in a new way.

hey folks . . . we had a great flight . . . the kids slept pretty well (though the morning came awfully fast!), and we got through immigration, got our baggage fine, etc.  Thank you for praying.

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It was such a huge gift to see Tom Middleton, CRM-UK staff, and his 5 year-old daughter Janae smiling and waving to us at the airport outside of customs.  Ian Hamilton, director of CRM-UK was on hand as well with an extra car for our abundant luggage.  Yeah, it’s only England — not a very “foreign” land to many . . . but the presence of a couple of smiling, friendly faces right there when we were at our weariest (towing two kids, a stroller & two carts full of luggage at 3:30 a.m. on the East Coast) was, well, it was just beautiful.   Jesse and Janae made instant friends and haven’t stopped playing together since.  Pam went shopping with Tom’s wife Karin and made a new friend herself.  A new life in the Old World begins . . .

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More later . . .

As I write, we are sitting in the Boston International Terminal, waiting to board Virgin Atlantic Flight #12, departing at 8 p.m. East Coast time. I don’t know why I bought an overnight flight. It seemed like a good idea at the time . . . take off at bed-time and land at 7:30 a.m. in London, right? Well, I was forgetting about the fact that our kids are REALLY excited about finally getting to London. Would YOU want to sleep on the airplane if you were finally headed towards that spot your folks’ have been talking about for over a year? Oh, and that 7:30 a.m. landing in London is great, except it’s 2:30 a.m. Boston time – so we’re really only getting a half-night of sleep, if that. Yikes!

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We ended up checking 8 bags. (Okay, two of those are a car seat and a porta-crib, but still . . . I’m sorta disgusted with how much stuff we’re bringing. I keep telling myself that it’s okay because we’re moving there and all. Still . . .

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Extra screening at the airport when you’re flying one-way to London . . . that means an additional line, all our carry-ons getting ransacked, and the kiddo’s wondering why dad was getting the pat-down.

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We’re doing well though . . . excited. The adventure finally begins. Pam and I are stealing glances at each other, wishing it was just the two of us on an international flight – but also glad to be along for the ride with each other. We’ve really turned out to be a good team on all this work this summer. I’m grateful for it.