Post #1: The Happy Family Hotel

Upon arriving in Lyon, we spent the first few days with the wonderful Bize family. They were amazingly generous in allowing us to camp out in a spare bedroom, even when they could have claimed to have no room in the inn. You see, they have already "adopted" several others (two of the people in the photograph live with the Bize family, but aren't immediate family.) Brother Bize recently started a real estate company called Happy Family Homes; we joked that they already have a Happy Family Hotel . On the day that we left, yet another family came to stay the night.

While we were so grateful to have a place to stay, the girls were pretty out of sorts, given the enormous changes, jet lag, and tight quarters. The following picture shows Talia's opinion about the whole situation:


Of course, there were a few moments when I wanted to cry as much as Talia. The all-time low hit when I turned my back for twenty seconds, only to discover that Talia had bitten into the ink cartridge of a fountain pen and was dripping bright blue ink spots all over the white living room carpet. Never in my life have I wanted to escape to a different continent so badly.

Fortunately, the story has a happy ending. For those who don't know, fountain pens in Europe are special. You might say they are filled with disappearing ink, as long as you know the secret. They sell these other special pens that magically erase the writing (and ink stains.) Well, this amazing marker managed to undo the damage remarkably well, leaving the carpet almost as good as new. I wiped my tears and felt comforted when Sister Bize showed me some spots where the carpet had been spray-painted white after her own children had spilled acrylic paint.

Before long, the Bize family hopes to downsize and move into a smaller place a little closer to the city. Perhaps they are somewhat exhausted from running a large "hotel" and would like to switch to a smaller "inn." To tell the truth, I'm kind of glad because I'm not certain that the "disappearing ink" will stay "disappeared" forever.

Thirty for Thirty

At long last, our family is connected to the world once more. Three cheers for a functioning Internet connection! :)

So this past week, I celebrated a milestone birthday of three happy decades. In honor of the event, I hope to post thirty blog posts over the next thirty days. By the end of the blogfest, the Wheeler adventures of settling into life in Lyon will doubtlessly be well-chronicled. Enjoy!

Still Alive and Kicking

For our first update from France, I'm going to steal the e-mail that Jason sent home because it's such a good description. I hope you enjoy.

Well, we've successfully survived our first two days here in Lyon, not to mention the full day of travel that it took just to get here. You should have seen us getting off of the little 24 seat plane that took us from Frankfurt to our final destination. Bleary-eyed, covered in crumbs from all of the snacks we had been using as pacifiers for Brooklyn and Talia, and smelling like we hadn't had showers for a couple days. Add all of that to us attempting to move two girls, a stroller (which neither girl wanted to sit in), 3 wheeled carry-ons, two backpacks, a camera bag, a diaper bag, and seven pieces of checked luggage, and it would have put stitches in your side. I was laughing too. Way down deep inside. I had to look pretty far to find it, but it was there. It literally took us an hour just to get from the plane to the rental car place, and we didn't even have to go through customs! (Thank Goodness... they probably shut down and ran for home when they saw us coming. Maybe the flight attendant called ahead and warned them.)


**Here's Jason with some of the luggage...

It took us two trips and three hours in our little blue Peugeot to get all of the luggage transfered from the airport to the home of the B*** family. The attendant at Alamo was kind enough to let us leave the pieces we couldn't fit in the car behind their desk between trips. I hate to admit we stopped at McDonalds for dinner, but at least the salad I ordered had several different kinds of very fancy (a.k.a. stinky) French cheeses. It was actually quite good. Brooklyn quickly caught on to the game of hide and go seek being played by a bunch of the kids in the play area. It wasn't long before she was standing in the corner with her eyes closed counting "un, deux, trois, quatre..."

Everybody here in Lyon has been so incredibly nice and helpful. They are all very patient with my broken English, and the B*** family has been so kind to take us in and help us out. We are not in our apartment yet, but have an appointment arranged for tomorrow evening at 5:30 to sign the contract, have the inspection, and get the keys. We're looking forward to starting to set up our own place.

Kara has had to jump into work with both feet: Yesterday they had a training meeting for a couple of hours, and today she had to help administer a test similar to the TOEFL to the incoming students. So while she was off winning the bread, Brooklyn, Talia, and I braved Lyon's public transit system, which incidentally is absolutely incredible, and went to the Parc de la Tete d'Or where we got to play at a playground and hang out with some giraffes and some African alligators. We had a nice time, but I think the girls were pretty tired of walking by the time we made it back to the bus. I'm not sure what would give me that idea, except maybe that I had one slung over the shoulder and was practically dragging the other through the grass.

Lyon appears to be a very nice city. It is in a picturesque location at the edge of a mountain range to the west and a plain to the east. It is a fairly large city, but not as big as Chicago or New York. So far the weather has been very nice, though I guess it is supposed to rain tomorrow. We haven't really had the chance to take any pictures yet, but we'll try to do so and get them posted on the blog.

We certainly miss everybody. We've had some wonderful moments these past couple days, but it has also been a big adjustment, and not always very easy. Brooklyn asked me yesterday when we were going to go back to Illinois, and if it weren't for having to do the plane flight all over again, I might have said "tomorrow". But we're really excited to be here and anticipate that things will get easier as we get into a regular routine. And for those who are able, we hope to have the chance to host you and show you around our new home sometime during the coming year.

A brief update: We're still not into our new home yet, but we are hopeful that we will get the keys after the final inspection today. We'll be without internet for a bit after that, but look forward to posting more once we're connected again.

"It's actually packed tighter than it looks"

So before departing for France, we had to survive what is commonly termed "THE MOVE." Now anyone who has recently transferred all of their belongings from one location to another knows that this is a stressful period of time where the amount of work remaining to be done somehow compounds exponentially the farther you get into the process. (The amount of items you own also seems to multiply as well.) For us, this meant that our storage unit was filled to the gills. It took incredible spatial reasoning talent and skills to load up our big box. Kudos and THANKS to my wonderful father and amazing hubby.

Here's what the storage unit looked like when we finally pulled away and headed for the airport:



Once we were loaded in the car, my father turned to me and said, "It's actually packed tighter than it looks."

Wow.

We're Leaving for France!

It's late, and I need to get a good night's sleep tonight, but I wanted to let everyone know our good news--we're leaving for France tomorrow!

The story of how our visas worked out at the last moment was really miraculous. After much sweat and a few tears, the essential document finally arrived at the consulate. We went up to Chicago on Thursday, and they processed all of our visas without hassle on the spot. Even more significantly, they didn't ask for Jason's FBI background check--a huge blessing since it didn't arrive in time. So even though it took a while for our prayers to be answered, we feel as if Heavenly Father has really been watching over our family.

So now, after a week of hard labor, we are all packed and ready to go. We're not exactly traveling light--seven checked bags (six at 50 pounds plus one at 22 pounds for Talia), three rolled duffels, two backpacks, a camera bag, a diaper bag, and a new double stroller. Oh, and lets not forget the toddler and preschooler. This will definitely be an adventure! All the rest of our belongings are packed away in a storage shed. We are SO grateful for the help we've had from friends and especially loving family in helping us make this adventuresome move. We never could have done it alone.

As everyone knows, moving is hard work. I expected it to be hard. I expected it to be challenging. What I didn't expect was to spend two hours this weekend fishing the change out of the car CD player that Talia deposited into her "piggy bank." All in all, we recovered 38 cents. :) It's a good thing she's got such a cute smile that rights all wrongs.

Wish us luck in France! I think we'll need it...

The clouds are breaking, and it's a rainbow sky!

As always, the sky is always darkest right before the dawn. While we haven't made much progress on our visa situation (yet), something even more significant and wonderful has happened--we've secured an apartment in Lyon!

The entire situation behind this housing is truly an amazing answer to prayers. Our realtor (a distant contact made through the LDS church in Lyon), had been keeping an eye out for us for several months. Unfortunately, every promising place that he'd found was already taken by the time he was able to look at it. A couple days ago, he called us in the United States to explain that he thought it would be best to simply wait and look for something after we arrived. Amazingly, he invited us to live at his home for a short time while we searched. I am amazed, humbled, and inspired by his trusting generosity, opening his home to a family that he's never even met. We awkwardly explained that we're quite a handful with two noisy and rambunctious children, yet he politely insisted, explaining that he'd already gotten his wife's permission.

Wow. I don't think it's possible to ever repay such kindness. One can only hope to some day pay it forward.

Before hanging up, this kind man agreed to look at one more place that Jason had found on a website. Even though he didn't expect it to be a particularly good match for our family, he scheduled an appointment for the next morning.

That evening we received another phone call. He'd visited the place, and it was perfect for us. While the apartment is not large, it's light, spacious enough, and recently remodeled. It's in a great part of town, close to a park, and close to the metro. Perhaps best of all, it comes equipped with an "American" kitchen, meaning that there's a fridge, oven, and cabinets! (Many times you have to move in your own kitchen appliances in France.)

Our realtor/friend explained that he considered it a miracle that the apartment was still on the market. It becomes available the day before we are supposed to arrive. He was so impressed by the place that he wrote out a check immediately to secure it for us, trusting that we would pay him back when we arrived.

You know, someday when we actually get to France, we will smile and laugh about the hurdle of our visas. While we may rip out our fingernails trying to claw our way through the bureaucracy, some day we will pass through. And when we do, we will be oh, so very grateful to have a home to come home too. In the big scheme of things, finding a safe, happy place to live will have the greatest effect on our French experience. Even more, we are already developing deep friendships based on generosity and trust as our gospel "family" in France reaches out to embrace us, even before we arrive.

I'm learning that while Heavenly Father may not answer prayers in the moment we want, he nevertheless answers our prayers--always. In this case, our family had to sink uncomfortably deep into the dark unknown before God yanked us out at the last minute, showing once again that He is truly at the helm. Thanks be to heaven for rainbow skies.

I'd be jealous if it weren't me...

Yesterday I had a realization. If one of my close friends or family members were taking off to France for the next ten months, I'd feel insanely jealous. The journey sounds so carefree and romantic, adventuresome yet somehow serene. Sidewalk cafes, twisting streets, crepes, and confiture--what isn't to love?

At the moment, however, I feel completely the opposite. I confess that there are often moments when I wish that it were anyone but me. I've been pretty silent in the blogosphere over the past couple of weeks, waiting, hoping, and praying for a ray of sunshine to break through the gloomy, overcast tidings so that I would have something positive to write about.

Well, unfortunately, the clouds keep building, and I've decided that I finally have to get everything off my chest. I suppose that will make the drama much more exciting when the situation finally does resolve itself--let's just pray that it's a happy ending...

So, as you may have guessed, preparations are not going well for France. We have slammed up against an immovable bureaucratic wall when it comes to securing visas. My university in Lyon was supposed to send paperwork to this other French agency, ANAEM, who in turn sends a file all the way back to the French consulate in the United States. The paperwork was extensive (and expensive by the time I paid for certified translations), yet I got it all together in a timely manner and sent everything imaginable to France months ago, not only for myself, but also for my family.

Well, the HR contact at the university in Lyon was confused when it came to the procedure for securing visas for my family members. So, she asked me to contact the French consulate in Chicago for clarification. Seems simple enough, right?

Wrong. I sent an e-mail. No answer. I sent another e-mail. No answer. I politely waited and sent more e-mails. No answer. Why, you are probably asking, did I not simply pick up the darn phone and call? Because, according to the consulate website, they are very busy and cannot answer phone calls. The best way to get a hold of them is via e-mail (NOT!).

In utter desperation, we finally schedule visa appointments for the entire family. (By the way, these appointments must be scheduled three weeks in advance via the internet.) At last the day arrives. I am sick, but I still manage to teach my English class for an hour, find a substitute for the second hour, jump into a car with Jason and the girls, fight downtown traffic, and sprint to their office on the 37th floor of a Michigan avenue skyscraper, arriving on time, albeit slightly out of breath and limping, thanks to a broken shoe.

What, you may ask, was the outcome of all this effort? Well, after three hours of driving and weeks of waiting, we got to to stand at a counter for five minutes and shout to a woman with a thick French accent through a thick pane of glass. It was quite a sight--Jason and I straining for answers, absent-mindedly hushing our cranky children who were doing their best to wreak havoc in the hot, crowded waiting room.

As we walked out, Jason and I paused for a moment and said, "Well, I don't think that could have gone any worse." Since they had not received my paperwork, the consulate was unable to do anything. They gave no helpful advice whatsoever to pass on to the contact in France, except to say that the people overseas should already know what they need to do. Oh, they also said that despite our family relationships, Jason and the girls would not be granted visas in connection with me (even though the consulate had originally said they would.) Rather, they must apply for the extensive (and expensive) visitor visas, which, by the way, can take an entire month to process.

Back to the drawing board, we frantically send a slew of e-mails to everyone we know in France, begging to find out the whereabouts of my paperwork and have it sent on. Unfortunately, by this time it's already the beginning of August. I've been doing a bit of reading about France lately in a book called Paris to the Moon. I've learned that in France, nearly everything closes down in the month of August. The entire country takes four or five weeks of vacation. Well, I think the book is right. It's been weeks now, and we haven't had even a single response. We call regularly--no answer. The silence is deafening, and my anxiety is rising.

In the meantime, we've been struggling to assemble all of the paperwork for the most extensive category of visitor visas. This requires proof of financial support for an entire year, which is kind of a stretch when you consider the dollar to euro exchange rate, but we're working on it. Jason and I have both picked up a couple of odd jobs recently to add a little extra padding to our bank accounts.

And then there's the criminal background check. Honestly, I think they'd be better off just looking Jason in the eye--he's obviously not a hardened criminal--and yet the paperwork must be official. We barked up the wrong tree at the county courthouse for a while before figuring out that it needed to be an FBI background check. Well, when we finally got on the FBI's site, lo and behold, they also require three to four weeks processing time. But wait, you have to get fingerprints first!

Of course, we learn this Friday evening and call the police office Saturday morning about fingerprinting. They tell us to call back on Monday so we can schedule an appointment. Jason calls back first thing on Monday and is told that they can't get him in until Tuesday. However, they also let him know that he could have called the university police who do the fingerprints for free, but they only schedule appointments on Sunday....

I feel my grip on sanity growing warily thin. As an outsider, I'd be jealous, but as an insider, I want out. It feels like we've passed that point of no return. We've acted in faith that this was the right decision and have closed a lot of doors behind us. Jason's turned down his assistantship, we've handed in our 60 day-notice for our townhome, we've even starting packing the house in boxes. Our plane tickets are purchased for September 8th, yet it will take an absolute miracle to get us on those flights. (Not that I'm all that eager to get there, seeing as to how we don't even have a place to live yet...)

I know that in two months I will look back and smile about how everything all worked out for the best, but at the moment the path is awfully dim. So let's pray for clouds with silver linings.