As I was reading and filling out the forms at the Social Security Office around 2 weeks after we arrived I realised what it was that Sting was singing about all those years ago....the only box that 'fitted' me was that of a Legal Alien. 'In Law, an alien is a person in a country who is not a citizen in that country'. I never actually had seen the term written down before.
Just like getting a drivers license it is very necessary to have your social security number and alien status because without it, and your drivers licence you can't get any of your utilities connected, rent a house, get your rubbish collected or buy a car, to name but a few things, I'm sure there must be more. It's catch 22 wherever you turn until you finally have both pieces of paper in the palm of your sweaty hand.
On good advice we waited 2 weeks after we arrived to schedule our appointment, enough time we were told for Immigration to do their thing and get you 'into the system'. But hey, they're probably busy and when we'd filled in our forms, made our way to the interview window we were told "computer says no". Not on the system = no social security number and therefore none of the above necessities in life. We are given a temporary letter to say that we have applied, but it doesn't really help much and told that the system will keep on being checked and our numbers sent out to us...it could take anything from between 3 days to 3 weeks. Thankfully we have a cool landlord who just kept everything connected for us at the house until the numbers came through.
I say numbers, but in fact 1 week later my social security number arrives but Ian's doesn't. At least I can set up everything we need, except the delivery of the cars, they're both in Ian's name. When another week had gone by we both tried calling the SS office but that has an even more time consuming and annoying automated system than the bank and unfortunately you can't sit and press zero until you get a human being and it didn't recognise frustrated yells either. There was nothing for it but to go in person but that meant Ian having to find a couple of hours in the day and then he had to return to the UK for a week so more time went by.
Last week he managed to get there, turns out that his number was dispatched on the same day as mine where it went to nobody knows. He had to re-apply and eight weeks and 2 days after arriving we are still waiting for his elusive number. We are still waiting for our cars too which are somewhere in the US waiting for us as they were ordered in July (there's a tax incentive if you buy before you fly.)
Eight weeks after arriving in the US it still hasn't arrived....maybe it'll come today then again maybe it won't.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Monday, 28 September 2009
The Driving Test
In order to 'Drive Thru Our Lives' here we had to take a driving test and I will tell you that the very thought struck terror into me. It's been a few years, OK a good few since I took my driving test in England...and I failed first time round.
A drivers license is very necessary here because obviously it enables you to drive, it also acts as your photo-id which you have to carry everywhere with you and present fairly regularly, I was very nervous carrying my passport around all the time knowing my propensity to lose things and I don't lose any old things, just important things. It also enables you to own a car - if you also have a social security number...but that's another story.
We had the date set and around about 100 pages of North Carolina Highway Code to revise and just the sight of all those pages were overwhelming and we just didn't feel confident enough so we postponed it for a week. The day approached and Ian thought about postponing it again but by this time I just wanted it over and done with - if I failed I'd just have to take it again the following week.
The day came and we made our way to the test centre. We presented our paperwork and waited to called by our assigned examiner. Mine was Miss Frosty and I don't think it helped her mood when I pulled out an anti-bac wipe to clean the binocular like eye test machine - I'm not THAT fussy or an OCD case but it did look very greasy where hundreds of other foreheads had probably rested to take the eye test. Next was the computerised multiple choice theory test in which you had to get 20/25 correct to take the driving part of the test. Thanks to Jo (a Brit friend in New Jersey) I was well prepared for this as she'd told me about a website where you could practice questions. The test wasn't hard but some of the terminology was very different to the DVLA version and I can't now remember all the examples but...'defensive driving' was one. Should you practice defensive driving? Ian and I both thought that this would be a bad thing but apparently defensive driving is a good thing! I got one wrong and passed on another because I just didn't understand the question and it was onto the 'driving' test.
Ian took his first and passed, so there was no pressure was there? Me and Miss Frosty make our way to Ian's hire car and in my head I keep repeating to myself, speed limit (I'd been practicing for days at trying to stick to it!), 3 point turn and emergency stop. After checking the car for road worthiness we were off. One thing I had noticed was that there is usually a speed limit sign at least every 200yards along every road - but not this one! I hazard a guess that it's 45 and breath a sigh of relief when I do eventually see a sign. Around this time Miss Frosty thawed and became quite chatty which I didn't think was very helpful and made me wonder if it was a distraction technique!
So ten minutes in and I've observed and stuck to the speed limit, turned left and right, carefully 3 point turned and I'm thinking, 'just an emergency stop to go, just an emergency stop to go.' When Miss Frosty says 'stop' I did THE best emergency stop I've ever done...only she didn't quite want it to happen then because she actually wanted me to just stop and then show her how good I am at reversing. Ooops! Thankfully she saw the funny side, I reverse, we drive on and then she lets me do my emergency stop. Not quite as good as the first but it was good enough.
Back to the test centre to be told I had passed, have my mug shot taken and to hear that my license will be in the post in a few days. Celebration time! - Ian and I actually had lunch together, on our own, which I don't think has ever happened during the last 5 years!!
A drivers license is very necessary here because obviously it enables you to drive, it also acts as your photo-id which you have to carry everywhere with you and present fairly regularly, I was very nervous carrying my passport around all the time knowing my propensity to lose things and I don't lose any old things, just important things. It also enables you to own a car - if you also have a social security number...but that's another story.
We had the date set and around about 100 pages of North Carolina Highway Code to revise and just the sight of all those pages were overwhelming and we just didn't feel confident enough so we postponed it for a week. The day approached and Ian thought about postponing it again but by this time I just wanted it over and done with - if I failed I'd just have to take it again the following week.
The day came and we made our way to the test centre. We presented our paperwork and waited to called by our assigned examiner. Mine was Miss Frosty and I don't think it helped her mood when I pulled out an anti-bac wipe to clean the binocular like eye test machine - I'm not THAT fussy or an OCD case but it did look very greasy where hundreds of other foreheads had probably rested to take the eye test. Next was the computerised multiple choice theory test in which you had to get 20/25 correct to take the driving part of the test. Thanks to Jo (a Brit friend in New Jersey) I was well prepared for this as she'd told me about a website where you could practice questions. The test wasn't hard but some of the terminology was very different to the DVLA version and I can't now remember all the examples but...'defensive driving' was one. Should you practice defensive driving? Ian and I both thought that this would be a bad thing but apparently defensive driving is a good thing! I got one wrong and passed on another because I just didn't understand the question and it was onto the 'driving' test.
Ian took his first and passed, so there was no pressure was there? Me and Miss Frosty make our way to Ian's hire car and in my head I keep repeating to myself, speed limit (I'd been practicing for days at trying to stick to it!), 3 point turn and emergency stop. After checking the car for road worthiness we were off. One thing I had noticed was that there is usually a speed limit sign at least every 200yards along every road - but not this one! I hazard a guess that it's 45 and breath a sigh of relief when I do eventually see a sign. Around this time Miss Frosty thawed and became quite chatty which I didn't think was very helpful and made me wonder if it was a distraction technique!
So ten minutes in and I've observed and stuck to the speed limit, turned left and right, carefully 3 point turned and I'm thinking, 'just an emergency stop to go, just an emergency stop to go.' When Miss Frosty says 'stop' I did THE best emergency stop I've ever done...only she didn't quite want it to happen then because she actually wanted me to just stop and then show her how good I am at reversing. Ooops! Thankfully she saw the funny side, I reverse, we drive on and then she lets me do my emergency stop. Not quite as good as the first but it was good enough.
Back to the test centre to be told I had passed, have my mug shot taken and to hear that my license will be in the post in a few days. Celebration time! - Ian and I actually had lunch together, on our own, which I don't think has ever happened during the last 5 years!!
Friday, 25 September 2009
Friday, 18 September 2009
Our First Week Home Alone
"Hey Emma, glad to hear you have settled in now and life is getting back to normal. Ian's away again, so that's got to be kind of normal!" (FB comment from a friend in India!)
So yes, Ian's had to do his first (of many in the future) stints away. We'd only moved into the house for one week before he had to bid us farewell and fly back to the UK. By the way I have actually stopped saying I am from the UK and now say England because twice this week people have introduced me as being from the Ukraine.
In England I knew our house, I knew our neighbours and our friends were close by. In India I had 3 guards rotating the house 24hours (unless they were sleeping! http://madrasmater.blogspot.com/2009/01/twas-night-before-christmas.html ) and a driver who always assured me that he was only ever 10 minutes away if I needed him. I felt safe. It's not quite the same here at the moment, we have no close neighbours, and well I won't go on. What we do have is a new and very super duper alarm system and we do live in an area with a very low crime rate...and it just takes time to settle into a new home get used to its noises and creeks - I haven't slept much, but probably more than I think.
So, if anything can go wrong it will - when your husband leaves the country...
Day 1 - 2am in the morning and the new super duper alarm system begins to bleep constantly. It wakes me up. I lie in bed. I cannot move. In my sleepy head fog I run through all the scenarios, as you do, and I try my hardest to remember all the instructions the alarm guy had given us and convince myself that an intermittent bleep is NOT something to worry about. I get up and go to the control panel, press a button but it doesn't stop. I look for a phone number, see one, call it, to be told it is no longer a number in use - 'oh help me'. Then my eye falls on another button that is lit up and I gingerly press it. Thank goodness, because it tells me the problem, stops the bleeping but doesn't actually put my mind at rest. There now follows a very wakeful night. In the morning I talk to Ian and he says 'why didn't you just call the telephone number on the window stickers? and through gritted teeth I reply because no-one had told me it were there and that was where I should look!
Day 3 - And I'm Driving Thru My Life and I have to Drive Thru the ATM on the way back from school to get cash to pay for Ellie's birthday party deposit. Ellie & Luke are kicking off big time in the back of the car, through the screaming (them and me)I manage to take the money and the receipt but leave the card behind...which I discover when I'm in the supermarket later trying to buy stuff for dinner. I try to use my English credit card but after a certain number of transactions abroad you have to call to re-verify your card - and I've left my cell phone in the car. Thankfully my UK debit card works fine and we're eventually on our way. When I got home I spent a very unproductive 2 hours trying to call the bank to stop my atm stranded card via, joy of joys - an automated service - and if you thought UK automated call centres were frustrating - think again! The options available were just not what I wanted. At least the 'voice recognition system' eventually (about an hour eventually) recognised my shouts of I WANT TO TALK TO SOMEBODY. So an hour to talk to somebody and a week to wait for a new card and I have about $2 in my purse and no husband around to sub me. So, the next morning I paid a visit to our 'branch' and the wonderful staff at Bank of America issue me with a temporary debit card there and then - they are, apparently one of the only banks in the world to do this.
Day 5 - 3am and a phone rings and wakes me up. In a very similar fog to the one of a few nights before, I pick up the home phone by the bed - no-one there. Perhaps I'm dreaming. But I can still hear noise and voices and I pinch myself so I know I'm awake. Panic, no terror if I'm honest - and I can hear rustling and muffled voices. SH**! I know I turned on the security system, what's going on? And then I hear Ian's voice, mumbling but his voice nonetheless and he's talking to someone. I leap out of bed and out into the hallway....and from the cupboard where he has temporarily wired up our UK Vonage phone I can hear him talking....from, it transpires the same phone which is now in his pocket that he called our Vonage phone a few hours earlier and has accidentally managed to activate, call the answerphone and spook the living daylights out of me! He thinks it's quite funny...I think I aged considerably overnight...over the last week in fact.
So yes, Ian's had to do his first (of many in the future) stints away. We'd only moved into the house for one week before he had to bid us farewell and fly back to the UK. By the way I have actually stopped saying I am from the UK and now say England because twice this week people have introduced me as being from the Ukraine.
In England I knew our house, I knew our neighbours and our friends were close by. In India I had 3 guards rotating the house 24hours (unless they were sleeping! http://madrasmater.blogspot.com/2009/01/twas-night-before-christmas.html ) and a driver who always assured me that he was only ever 10 minutes away if I needed him. I felt safe. It's not quite the same here at the moment, we have no close neighbours, and well I won't go on. What we do have is a new and very super duper alarm system and we do live in an area with a very low crime rate...and it just takes time to settle into a new home get used to its noises and creeks - I haven't slept much, but probably more than I think.
So, if anything can go wrong it will - when your husband leaves the country...
Day 1 - 2am in the morning and the new super duper alarm system begins to bleep constantly. It wakes me up. I lie in bed. I cannot move. In my sleepy head fog I run through all the scenarios, as you do, and I try my hardest to remember all the instructions the alarm guy had given us and convince myself that an intermittent bleep is NOT something to worry about. I get up and go to the control panel, press a button but it doesn't stop. I look for a phone number, see one, call it, to be told it is no longer a number in use - 'oh help me'. Then my eye falls on another button that is lit up and I gingerly press it. Thank goodness, because it tells me the problem, stops the bleeping but doesn't actually put my mind at rest. There now follows a very wakeful night. In the morning I talk to Ian and he says 'why didn't you just call the telephone number on the window stickers? and through gritted teeth I reply because no-one had told me it were there and that was where I should look!
Day 3 - And I'm Driving Thru My Life and I have to Drive Thru the ATM on the way back from school to get cash to pay for Ellie's birthday party deposit. Ellie & Luke are kicking off big time in the back of the car, through the screaming (them and me)I manage to take the money and the receipt but leave the card behind...which I discover when I'm in the supermarket later trying to buy stuff for dinner. I try to use my English credit card but after a certain number of transactions abroad you have to call to re-verify your card - and I've left my cell phone in the car. Thankfully my UK debit card works fine and we're eventually on our way. When I got home I spent a very unproductive 2 hours trying to call the bank to stop my atm stranded card via, joy of joys - an automated service - and if you thought UK automated call centres were frustrating - think again! The options available were just not what I wanted. At least the 'voice recognition system' eventually (about an hour eventually) recognised my shouts of I WANT TO TALK TO SOMEBODY. So an hour to talk to somebody and a week to wait for a new card and I have about $2 in my purse and no husband around to sub me. So, the next morning I paid a visit to our 'branch' and the wonderful staff at Bank of America issue me with a temporary debit card there and then - they are, apparently one of the only banks in the world to do this.
Day 5 - 3am and a phone rings and wakes me up. In a very similar fog to the one of a few nights before, I pick up the home phone by the bed - no-one there. Perhaps I'm dreaming. But I can still hear noise and voices and I pinch myself so I know I'm awake. Panic, no terror if I'm honest - and I can hear rustling and muffled voices. SH**! I know I turned on the security system, what's going on? And then I hear Ian's voice, mumbling but his voice nonetheless and he's talking to someone. I leap out of bed and out into the hallway....and from the cupboard where he has temporarily wired up our UK Vonage phone I can hear him talking....from, it transpires the same phone which is now in his pocket that he called our Vonage phone a few hours earlier and has accidentally managed to activate, call the answerphone and spook the living daylights out of me! He thinks it's quite funny...I think I aged considerably overnight...over the last week in fact.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Arachnophobia?
Come and stay with us in creepy crawly North Carolina and we'll cure you!
This large critter was waiting to welcome us at the front door when we arrived to move in. At least it's not red, I was always told that anything red = danger. Haven't seen a Black Widow...yet...or a snake...yet - but have been told to be watchful. {{shudder}}
This large critter was waiting to welcome us at the front door when we arrived to move in. At least it's not red, I was always told that anything red = danger. Haven't seen a Black Widow...yet...or a snake...yet - but have been told to be watchful. {{shudder}}
It's Fun To Play at the YMCA!
I think it would be very fair to say that back home the YMCA has a rather different 'image' to the one it has here. When our re-location agent suggested that membership of the 'Y' could open all sorts of opportunities...I couldn't help but silently snigger at the very thought, the only memories I could conjure up were obviously Village People and a rather seedy 'hostel' next door to Sainsbury's in Surbiton in the 80's - I wonder if it's still there?
Different here, so different. Every 'Y', and there seems to be at least one in most towns of a significant size is an almost state-of-the-art fitness and leisure centre with every conceivable type of fitness class, swimming pools - and get this - a FREE creche, and loads of kids activities, playgrounds and swimming lessons. Only downside is that all their pools are outside and they all close after Labour Day, 1st week of September - even though the temperature is still in the 80's most days. There is one 'Y' close to Ellie's school that is having a 'bubble' erected so that the pool can be used during the cooler months.
We joined up and one day, a couple of weeks ago after school ,when it was baking hot and a cool off was becoming very necessary as was escaping the dark poky temporary apartment I took the kids for a play, the kids pool wasn't open for another half an hour, it didn't matter and oh how they played...
Different here, so different. Every 'Y', and there seems to be at least one in most towns of a significant size is an almost state-of-the-art fitness and leisure centre with every conceivable type of fitness class, swimming pools - and get this - a FREE creche, and loads of kids activities, playgrounds and swimming lessons. Only downside is that all their pools are outside and they all close after Labour Day, 1st week of September - even though the temperature is still in the 80's most days. There is one 'Y' close to Ellie's school that is having a 'bubble' erected so that the pool can be used during the cooler months.
We joined up and one day, a couple of weeks ago after school ,when it was baking hot and a cool off was becoming very necessary as was escaping the dark poky temporary apartment I took the kids for a play, the kids pool wasn't open for another half an hour, it didn't matter and oh how they played...
Monday, 14 September 2009
The Sea Shipment Cometh
Remind Anyone of Anywhere?
Finally, finally all was arranged and we moved in to the house that will be our home for the next3 years....yeah I know, heard that one before but this time around they'll have to take me kicking and screaming because this family needs a little stability and routine for a while. About 3 years a while.
Day 1 of moving in and the Artic lorry (and a half) rolled up to the house. I'd like to tell you that we really don't have all that much stuff and it was the exhuberant Indian packers that managed to bulk everything out - to the extreme, but I don't think you'd believe me anyway so I won't try and blag it. So far so good, the three unloading guys were worth their weight and never (that I saw) raised an eyebrow when one of us told them to take one thing somewhere to be told by the other to take it somewhere else - we thought we had the A Team on our side
Day 2 of moving in and the Z Team arrived to unpack us, I say this because their idea of unpacking was to open boxes, unwrap the exhuberant handy work of the Indian packers and dump the contents on the floor wherever there was a spare piece of carpet...and leave it there. Much frustration! The Z team consisted of a mother and daughter who spent a great deal of their time on their phones to friends bemoaning the fact they had a 'big job on here', Grrrrr! The daughter was ill and unfit for work and didn't really do much, but wouldn't go home because that meant they'd both have to leave...and not get paid. I gave her painkillers but they didn't improve the situation and eventually at around 3.30pm they asked if we'd mind if they left. Mind? We were doing a better job ourselves. Don't get me wrong, I was very sympathetic for her plight - but should she have really come to work for the (half) day? The Mother half of the team told us that her and her husband would return the following day to finish off...It didn't happen.
If we thought we had the A team on the first day then we had the AAA team on the Saturday morning, so fast and efficient were these two Mexican guys that I never even saw them. By the time I'd got the kids up, dressed and breakfasted in the apartment and made our way over to the house at 10.00am - they were done and long gone, Ian felt he'd run a marathon trying to keep up with them. Yeah right! You're not that fit! I think he forgot to turn the air-con on!
All in all, a very similar experience to 'Moving In In India' except the lorry was much smaller and had to make several trips to and fro and there was a a very efficient team of about 1000 men!! http://madrasmater.blogspot.com/2008/10/we-have-our-stuff.html
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Toilet, Bathroom or Potty?
As many of you know Ellie is almost 5, going on 15.
She has an endearing habit (not) of shouting at the top of her voice 'I NEED THE TOILET'.
After receiving several strange side looks in restaurants and supermarkets when she declares her need I decided that we had better work on our phrasing so last weekend just as she had screeched out her need for all to hear we had a little chat - it went something like this...
Me: Ellie, I think that perhaps it would be more polite while we're here in America if, instead of hollering at the top of your voice that you'd like to use the toilet we quietly ask instead if we can go to the 'bathroom.'
Ellie: Why? A toilet is a toilet Mummy and it doesn't have a bath in it at a restaurant.
Me: I know, but Americans don't seem to use the word 'toilet' and prefer to say bathroom.
Ellie: OK Mummy, I will definitely try to remember to call it a bathroom.
So far so good.
This morning whilst trying my hardest to get both Ellie and Luke to eat up their breakfast so we can get out of the door to school and perhaps not be playing the eternal game of Beat the Clock, Traffic and Red Lights, she shouts her loudest 'I NEED THE TOILET' ever...
Me: Ellie. Please. We've discussed this. We do not shout. We do not call it a toilet. We ask quietly if we can go to the bathroom.
Ellie: At school the teacher says we must ask if we need to 'go potty', but potties are for babies aren't they?
Me: Yes they are but perhaps the other children at school understand that better. At home and when we are out we will say 'bathroom' OK?
Ellie: OK I'll try to remember. But Mummy, there are no Americans here with us at the moment to hear me so it doesn't really matter does it?
I think this could be a long battle.
She has an endearing habit (not) of shouting at the top of her voice 'I NEED THE TOILET'.
After receiving several strange side looks in restaurants and supermarkets when she declares her need I decided that we had better work on our phrasing so last weekend just as she had screeched out her need for all to hear we had a little chat - it went something like this...
Me: Ellie, I think that perhaps it would be more polite while we're here in America if, instead of hollering at the top of your voice that you'd like to use the toilet we quietly ask instead if we can go to the 'bathroom.'
Ellie: Why? A toilet is a toilet Mummy and it doesn't have a bath in it at a restaurant.
Me: I know, but Americans don't seem to use the word 'toilet' and prefer to say bathroom.
Ellie: OK Mummy, I will definitely try to remember to call it a bathroom.
So far so good.
This morning whilst trying my hardest to get both Ellie and Luke to eat up their breakfast so we can get out of the door to school and perhaps not be playing the eternal game of Beat the Clock, Traffic and Red Lights, she shouts her loudest 'I NEED THE TOILET' ever...
Me: Ellie. Please. We've discussed this. We do not shout. We do not call it a toilet. We ask quietly if we can go to the bathroom.
Ellie: At school the teacher says we must ask if we need to 'go potty', but potties are for babies aren't they?
Me: Yes they are but perhaps the other children at school understand that better. At home and when we are out we will say 'bathroom' OK?
Ellie: OK I'll try to remember. But Mummy, there are no Americans here with us at the moment to hear me so it doesn't really matter does it?
I think this could be a long battle.
The House That Greg Built
95 days8,208,000 seconds
136,800 minutes
2280 hours
13 weeks
....since our lives were packed back up into boxes and the contents shipped out of India. We have stayed in two hotels, 2 holiday cottages (1 twice), 1 villa and spent numerous nights in the spare beds of good friends and 1 apartment, travelled on 4 aeroplanes, driven 4 different cars and lived out of 6 suitcases.
Tomorrow - I hardly dare say it in case I tempt fate - we finally move into our new home which we hope will be ours for the next 3 years...and I LOVE IT!
It's brand new and has been built by a colleague of Ian's who has been unable to sell it like so many people in the current climate. He heard we were coming here and let us know he was willing to rent it to us, we saw it, fell in love with it, looked at at least 15 other equally nice houses but this one ticked all the right boxes and although it is further from school for me we decided to take it.
So tomorrow the removals company will finally arrive with all our stuff 'n' boxes. It will be like Christmas for Ellie and Luke seeing all their toys again and having a rather large playroom in which to unpack and rediscover them. As for me, I am so looking forward to our lovely bed and my own kitchen knives and utensils - sad really!
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