Wednesday, June 8

We have a little bit of a plan for today. Today we planned breakfast in, possibly meeting embassy family at the hotel's sushi buffet, and maybe a run to the airport to do a little gift-shop shopping.

I was up on the early shift with Grace, who ate and fell back asleep. Since I was awake, I worked a bit, which really meant IM-ing a little with the fellas back home, and looking over some of the stuff that had been handed over from the client's other design group. They're making the site's interactive map, and took some of my suggestions, and twisted them a little bit into something better than before, but still not as neat as possible. I chatted a bit with my temporary replacement about this.

After the gals woke up, we had a little breakfast in, a quick bath for Grace, and showers. We were getting a little primped for lunch. We'd planned to meet with the other families and go early to the hotel's sushi buffet. We weren't going early for the sushi, but because the embassy family was going to be there, too. Claire had connected with the mom of the family, who is blogging about her experiences as a new resident of the Marshall Islands.

We headed to the restaurant about 11:30, to make sure we could get enough table space. We knocked on the other adopting mother's door on the way past, but she didn't answer. We figured she might be napping or out for a stroll, as those things both make her son happy, but have no regular schedule. We found the restaurant empty except for us and the staff. They happily put a couple tables together, enough for the adopting families, next to another two-top, in case the embassy family was up for joining us. We got a couple of iced teas and chatted a little with the waitstaff, who we're kind of getting to know, before it got too busy.

A little after noon the restaurant started filling with sushi patrons. Around 12:30, Claire decided to join in the crowd and get some sushi. While she was in the line, we each noticed Andrew from the embassy was also in line. Shortly after Claire returned with a plate of food, I went and made a sandwich and got some pasta salad and fruit.

As we were eating and discussing our disappointment that the other families hadn't shown or called or anything, a friendly woman appeared and introduced herself as Andrew's wife. She sat for a few minutes chatting about our stay and things about the island and so on. After a few, she lamented that Andrew's boss had decided to join them at the last moment, so she felt they had to sit with him instead. The gals exchanged contact information and promised to chat later, by phone or other electronic means, and pledged we'd get together before our time ended on the island. After she left, Andrew stopped by to tell us how cute Grace was, and also apologize for their surprise companion, and was otherwise just as friendly as always.

As we were finishing our second plates of buffet food, the other adopting mother from the hotel found us and sat for a while. She had been picked-up earlier by the other adopting mother, from the other hotel. They had breakfast at the other hotel and then they went looking at some gift shops and time got away from them. By this time, the embassy family, and boss, had finished and departed. We said “no worries,” and filled her in on the casual conversations we'd had with them.

While we were chatting, Lauren, whom we'd been introduced to at the RRE restaurant, dropped by, too. She works for the MOE (Ministry of Education), and is also a bit of a local artist. We got the low-down on a few good places to eat, and some suggestions for finding a little local art (we're hoping to find stuff like the painting Grace stares at) and places to maybe find some children's books. It seems there are those kind of children's books in Marshallese, the kind with the pictures of boats and whatever the Marshallese word for boat would be. Apparently, though, they're mostly distributed only through the schools, and aren't available for purchase otherwise. In the U.S., of course, we have more than the schools offer, in part because many parents want to start teaching their kiddos before they start going to school. All manner of reasons, largely around money, make it not the case in the Marshall Islands.

The gals exchange contact info and made a plan to get in touch later and Lauren would show us some of her artwork and maybe she can help us find some of the other people or places she was talking about. She'll be here until July, she said; “so will we,” I joked. And then she's off for some summer-long adventure elsewhere, before returning to do more of the same of what she's been doing now, but later, in the fall.

After Lauren rejoined her friends, who were recovering from eating sushi, the gals made a plan to get together at 5PM to head to one of the just recommended Chinese restaurants and then continue to the airport for a dash through the gift shops there. Normally I'm not a fan of gift-shop shopping, but it seems that one of the shops at the airport is about the only place you can locally pick up a Marshallese-English dictionary. I realize they're probably not big sellers, but I would have thought the hotels would have them in their shops, or shops near the hotels, or the one called “Tourist Trap.” I guess, technically the Tourist Trap does have one copy that we saw, but it's all torn up and a little funky, like it'd been left outside for a few rains. We have a thick one at home, but that isn't doing us any good here.

After lunch we decided to take run by the hospital to try to get a copy of Grace's medical records. We've heard from the other families that it can be an ordeal of running around to places not where they're indicated, and since we had time and a happy baby, we thought that was as good of a time as any. We've been near the hospital a few times, since it's next to the Diabetes Wellness Center, but haven't had reason (knock on wood) to go to the hospital itself.

The reception and records window is just inside the main doors, u-turning to the right as you enter. Claire queued up and made her way to the little window. She expressed her desires and was told that the person that does that wasn't in, and that we should come back tomorrow.

Shut-down, and with nothing else needing to be done, we returned to the hotel room. Claire did a little poking around on-line and did some stuff with her beads. I fed Grace and then we lay down for a short little nap.

Just as I was shaking the sleep from my noodle, we got a knock on the door. It was the other mother from downstairs, coming as her boy was in good spirits, and it was the appointed 5PM time. We threw ourselves together and all climbed in the car, setting out for the Chinese restaurant we believed to be called “Special Restaurant.” We knew it to be across from the Stonehouse, where we'd eaten last night.

When we got there, though, there weren't the pair of restaurants, as we'd been led to believe, and where we thought “Special” would be, was simply “Chinese Restaurant.” Confusingly, though, the Chinese Restaurant sign was at the edge of the little parking lot, and the one door on the front of the building was under a sign for the hotel/apartment building that the rest of the structure must have housed. I took a brief stroll down the driveway beside the building, where I saw another unmarked door, but also encountered a woman sitting beside a pole listening to something on headphones. She smiled and took out one of her earbuds. I asked if she knew which door was for the restaurant, and she pointed to the front of the building. I gave her a quick “thanks” and returned to where the gals were waiting by the car.

The restaurant at first looked a little like a tiny cafe. There were bout four four-top tables in the middle of a very clean tile room with pictures of food tacked to the walls, along which were refrigerators and glass-topped coolers. We were enthusiastically greeted by a happy Chinese-looking woman, in what we thought might be Chinese, or at least Chinese-accented Marshallese. She and a young Marshallese gal peeked in a door and waved us over.

We were brought into a room with a big table in the middle, surrounded by a half-dozen chairs. It was a very clean room, also tile, with some stereotypical Chinese kind of scroll work wallpaper, and a giant clock that was about an hour off. Hover in one corner was a flat-screen television, that was turned off, and beneath that a little glass-fronted cabinet that looked like a little refrigerator, that contained some wine glasses and tea cups.

We each grabbed a chair around the table. The table was a thick, smooth marble table, with a lazy-Susan atop it, made of the same marble material. The Marshallese gal was evidently our server, as she handed out some really thick menus, and then left. After a few moments she returned and waited for us to order. Claire and I asked for iced tea, and the other mother a Sprite. The gal left and came back with a can of Sprite, but then said the tea was Chinese tea. I wasn't sure what she meant, so she went back out to the other room, and showed us a bottle of something, labeled only in what I guess was Chinese, as if to say “this.” We thought to play safe, and also asked for Sprite. She brought a couple more cans and left again. Claire suggested that the Chinese tea was probably both kind of Nestea like, and also probably green tea, which isn't quite the same as what we would have been expecting anyway.

We flipped through the giant menu a few times, and the gal returned again. I ordered the Kung Pao Chicken, the other mother played it safe with vegetable fried rice, and Claire finally chose the steamed garlic prawns. We chatted a little bit, commenting on how this was probably the cleanest room we'd seen on the island. It was kind of nice to have a little room to our own, given that we have occasionally noisy infants, and all of our other American quirks. Not that we have a problem with our quirks, but we recognize that they aren't the same quirks that others have, and it was a little relaxing to be separated from any other guests.

After a little while the waitress returned with the rice, and then the chicken, and then the plate full of prawns. The Chinese woman helped, and came in and fawned over the children for a bit. We played along, although we really didn't understand her Chinese or Chinese-accented Marshallese or English. We picked out a few things, like when she seemed to inquire “Marshallese?” about the children, which is a curiously common inquiry. She also guessed “boy” and “girl” correctly. And she said something about Grace's hair, which we didn't understand, but grokked from her playing with it while she repeated her phrase. She also had a delightfully happy belly laugh going the whole time.

We set in to eating our food. One thing I noticed is they didn't bring in any white rice with our dishes. I guess we made an assumption that it would be an included accompaniment, as it is both at home, and has been with nearly every other dish we've ordered here, except some breakfast dishes, or when another starch is instead included. We all shared our food choices with everyone, although it seemed everyone was most happy with their selection.

The prawns were a little different, because they were complete prawns. Claire took to cutting off all of their heads, and then spent a lot of time digging them out of their little prawn shells and pulling off their little prawn legs. The other mother passed on the prawns entirely, if I recall.

I took a little of the fried rice to help gather all of the saucy Kung Pao goodness, and other than a scoop or two each of the moms took, ate all of the Chicken and veggies myself. I also had a few prawns, but had a little easier time peeling them than it looked like Claire did. Of course, after seeing her efforts, I gave in and just tore them apart using my fingers, foregoing the fork all together.

Another thing that was a little odd was that there were no knives, spoons, chopsticks, or napkins. We were just given a plate and fork each. They did have a pop-up box of tissues, a little sturdier than your typical nose-blower, but not nearly as sturdy as a weak napkin would have been. We must have used a dozen of the tissues, making them seem inefficient as an attempt to be more environmentally friendly than napkins, or proving us to be bigger slobs than we would have otherwise thought.

The food was good, and except for the unexpected lack of rice and utensils, the experience was very enjoyable. The clean and escapism of the room almost seemed surreal. I'd definitely consider the Chinese tea, although I might want to try to have a chat about it first, or maybe get some hot tea instead. I'll also be sure to order a side of rice, as it makes a nice way to soak and temper the spicy sauce.

After delivering the food we weren't visited again. After we waited for what we thought was plenty of time, and deciding we weren't in any kind of dessert mood, we gathered our things and made our way to the outer room. There, in the corner next to the entry, was a cash register. Our waitress scurried under the counter and presented the bill. I paid while the Chinese woman again fawned over the kids.

We continued our adventure, heading to the airport to see what kind of stuff would be there. There are three or four little handicraft shops at the airport. The airport, in case my first assessment was lacking, is pretty small. It's all open-air, with a large “waiting” area in the middle, surrounded by little shops, a couple restrooms, and the Continental counter. Along the wall opposite the entry from the street are the doors to and from the tarmac, where we'd come in when we arrived.

We visited each of the shops, the girls looking at the various crafts and jewelry. It seemed only one of the shops sold any books, and we got the dictionary and a couple folklore books. After about an hour, we set out for home.

Just as we reached where the Chinese Restaurant was, the kids both started getting a little fussy. It was approaching quiet or bedtime, diaper, and probably dinnertime for both, but we'd been out so long that we were ill prepared or suited for making those things right in the car. We pressed on, and made it back to the hotel just as the kids hit the ends of their respective ropes.

The moms took their kids to their rooms, and I grabbed the other mother's water jug, which was in the trunk and also on our list of errands to run. I walked down the street to the Best Hardware store and filled the jug with fresh, clean water. I brought it back and delivered it to the other mom's room. Her boy had been changed and fed and had laid down for a first pass at sleeping for the night. Apparently, although he's a couple months older than Grace, he still only sleeps in two-hour long stretches, if he makes it that long. He's been a little ill, and hasn't quite made all of the adjustments to his new family, seemingly missing his larger group from his birthmother's home.

I returned to our room, and was sent to grab a bottle forgotten in the car. I returned again and found Grace was tucked in already. She must have been tired out from our later than normal adventure. She, by comparison to the boy downstairs, seems to have adjusted more quickly, and sleeps in three or four-hour long stretches overnight. We contribute this to perhaps a different setting with her birthmother, also that she hasn't been really ill yet (except for that initial bout of congestion), and is a few months younger.

We settled in for a couple episodes of Modern Family, and turned in, also nicely tired from a day traversing the island.