Portland

Kindra, my brother Gavin, his fiancee Caitlynne, and I on our drive to Portland.

Hello, fellow companions of the human race!  It’s been a (long) while since our last post, I (Austin) hope to give you a catch up on our journeys, especially while my lovely, definitively pregnant better half swims laps at the Rose Bowl (yes, we are in Pasadena now). 

Since arriving in Amehrrica nearly two months ago, our lives have been crazy.  Seriously, we bounced back and forth between a good number of family and friends in the first few weeks, making an appearance at the always epic McRobbie reunion, which celebrated my Grandpa Mac’s 95th birthday and the 65th wedding anniversary of him and his ever youthful ninety year old wife, my Grandma Mary.  We also in elegant fashion surprised Kindra’s mom Kathy, and step dad Mike, all at a synagogue party for Mike’s mom’s seventy fifth birthday.  The back story of that second surprise is pretty great; Kindra and I showed up at the WRONG synagogue to surprise her step-gma, and so there we were, Friday evening at 7 pm, at a synagogue in Fountain Valley with no family to be seen.  Texts to the family to discreetly discover their location proved unfruitful (they didn’t know we were back in the states, let alone prego!).  Kindra was on the verge of throwing in the towel and revealing the plan via a phone call, but I intervened and instead sent a “911 text” to them saying Kindra was really sick in India (where they thought we were!).  They called back, and I bemoaned Kindra’s food poisoning, all while asking where they were; the Westminster synagogue!  We hung up without too much explanation, and gunned our borrowed pick up truck ten minutes up the freeway, to utterly shock Kindra’s family; Kindra’s mom was on the verge of tears and ready to hold a prayer circle for Kindra’s “deathly sickness.”  Classic adventure on our road back to American living. 

Visits to Kindra’s dad’s family and my mom’s family were way more mellowed out, although by family visit number four I was beyond feeling the effects of severe reverse culture shock. (Don’t ever get divorced, by the way, or, if you do, don’t allow your kids to marry someone else who has divorced parents; four families to balance is what we have to do and it is crazy.)  At one point in the second week of our return, I had a full out bawling on the floor emotional breakdown from opening my dad’s refrigerator; I couldn’t even make lunch!  So many choices; in Nepal, we didn’t even have a fridge for half the time, let alone consistent electricity!

Other significant culture “shocks” for us: big cars, orderly driven freeways, packed to the gills with random ish grocery stores, overly friendly waiters, dogs with poop picked up, everyone being pretty opinionated and liking to talk a lot and be super outgoing, etc.  Yeah, it’s been an adjustment.  Sure, America has a NUMBER of awesome traits, and a lot of stuff we are thankful for: fast internet, Trader Joe’s, conveniences galore, and perfect weather (in socal).  We simply just don’t feel as American, at least in the first month or so.  I guess a year and a half overseas can change us quite a bit. 

So, you’re probably wondering, now what?  You guys are “pregnant and barefoot,” get some medical insurance, a smart phone, and a job already.  Well, we have the medical insurance part, if California’s perhaps horrendous Medical counts.  Job….coming soon?  After some stressful soul searching in Santa Barbara and Oregon, we decided that we are moving to Portland!  Yes Portland, Oregon; the land of hipsters, trees, and less drought and expensive rent than SoCal.  So in the next two weeks, we will be packing our few belongings into a gratefully borrowed pick up truck (Sig and Christina, you guys rock!), and heading into frontier land.  There we hope to find jobs, and more importantly, a lasting nest for the little loved one growing forcefully in Kindra’s belly. 

Stay tuned for more ramblings of late twenty something hippies trying to find their way in a fast paced world!