by Eva Fannon (USA) | Mar 11, 2016 | 2016, Eva Fannon, Kids, Nature, North America, Travel, USA, Vacationing, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Horseshoe Bend, part of Glen Canyon NP in Arizona.
Are you working on planning a summer vacation with your family? Are you interested in exploring amazing places? What if I told you that you could find just the right place for your family and that you could make it affordable? It’s right here…in your own backyard…it’s a National Park. (more…)
Eva Fannon is a working mom who lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her hubby and two girls. She was born and raised on the east coast and followed her husband out west when he got a job offer that he couldn't refuse. Eva has always been a planner, so it took her a while to accept that no matter how much you plan and prepare, being a mom means a new and different state of "normal".
Despite the craziness on most weekday mornings (getting a family of four out the door in time for work and school is no easy task!), she wouldn't trade being a mother for anything in the world. She and her husband are working on introducing the girls to the things they love - travel, the great outdoors, and enjoying time with family and friends. Eva can be found on Twitter @evafannon.
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by Ecoziva (Brazil) | Nov 13, 2015 | 2015, Brazil, Family, Life, Milestones, Siblings, South America, Time, Travel, World Motherhood
When I was born, my half-sister was already married and had three kids. As far back as I can remember she has lived in the same house, in a middle-sized town in northeastern Indiana, in the United States, and for most of my life our contact was via postal service. (more…)
Eco, from the greek oikos means home; Ziva has many meanings and roots, including Hebrew (brilliance, light), Slovenian (goddess of life) and Sanskrit (blessing). In Brazil, where EcoZiva has lived for most of her life, giving birth is often termed “giving the light”; thus, she thought, a mother is “home to light” during the nine months of pregnancy, and so the penname EcoZiva came to be for World Moms Blog.
Born in the USA in a multi-ethnic extended family, EcoZiva is married and the mother of two boys (aged 12 and three) and a five-year-old girl and a three yearboy. She is trained as a biologist and presently an university researcher/professor, but also a volunteer at the local environmental movement.
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by Kirsten Doyle (Canada) | Nov 2, 2015 | Canada, Family, International, Me-Time, Travel
In less than a week, I am going to travel to South Africa to see assorted friends and family members. I will escape the dreary November weather and get an extra month of summer in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. I will spend lazy days with my mom and my brother, hang out with the woman who has been my best friend since we were ten, and meet someone who, until now, has been my friend in the online world only.
It will be fantastic. I haven’t seen the folks “back home” for almost four years, and as small as the world has become thanks to the wonders of technology, there’s just nothing quite like being in the same room as a parent, a sibling, a friend. In any case, I am desperate for the break. Events of the summer have well and truly hammered me, and I am exhausted. I have worked myself into a state of near-collapse, and I am looking forward to just stopping.
There’s just one thing. I am not taking my husband or kids with me. I recognize that this month away will be good not only for me, but for the kids from a life-learning perspective. But the thought that I will kiss my family goodbye and then turn and walk away from them makes my heart twist.
I haven’t even started packing yet, and already I am tearing up as I think of them going to bed on the night of my departure without their goodnight kiss from Mommy.
The thing is, I am not used to going anywhere without my husband and kids. Although I have been to South Africa by myself twice since the kids were born, both trips were prompted by deaths in the family. This is the first time I am going away by myself for an extended period, for the sole purpose of having fun. No one has died. I do not have to attend a funeral or pick up ashes from a crematorium. I don’t have to visit a lawyer to hear a will read, or deal with the bizarre amount of admin generated by the death of a family member.
Like most moms, I have succeeded in turning the concept of guilt into an art form. I feel guilty when I sneak out of the house for a quick solo trip to the convenience store, never mind getting onto a plane to travel to the other side of the world. But for the sake of my own sanity, I have had to put a lid on the guilt – otherwise I wouldn’t even get as far as the boarding gate.
I have to constantly remind myself that the boys will be OK – and I know they will be. I have been preparing them for my departure without making too big a deal of it. I have promised them that I will bring them a really cool gift from Africa. I am making a countdown calendar for my autism boy. Teachers at both of their schools have promised to look out for them and make extra allowances for them. We have started planning fun activities to do together after I get back.
It is not lost on me that I am fortunate to have such a supportive husband. I don’t feel that I need his permission for this trip, but I do know that many moms wanting to undertake a similar venture would face resistance, or even downright refusal.
My husband wants me to go, and he wants me to have a good time. I suspect that he and the kids are looking forward to spending some “boy time” together.
There will be a tricky moment at the airport when I will have to fight the urge to cry in public. After my husband and children have said their goodbyes and left, I will have to duck into a stall in the washroom to let some tears flow. And then I will board the plane and fly to South Africa to spend time in the land of my birth, with loved ones I haven’t seen for a long time.
When I come back to my adopted country, the Canada I am so proud to be a citizen of, I will be refreshed and rested, ready to take on real life, and excited to be in the warm embrace of my husband and sons.
Would your family be supportive of you taking a long trip without them? What strategies have you used to help your kids, both before and during your travel?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Kirsten Doyle of Canada. Photo credit to the author.
Kirsten Doyle was born in South Africa. After completing university, she drifted for a while and finally washed up in Canada in 2000. She is Mom to two boys who have reached the stage of eating everything in sight (but still remaining skinny).
Kirsten was a computer programmer for a while before migrating into I.T. project management. Eventually she tossed in the corporate life entirely in order to be a self-employed writer and editor. She is now living her best life writing about mental health and addictions, and posting videos to two YouTube channels.
When Kirsten is not wrestling with her kids or writing up a storm, she can be seen on Toronto's streets putting many miles onto her running shoes. Every year, she runs a half-marathon to benefit children with autism, inspired by her older son who lives life on the autism spectrum.
Final piece of information: Kirsten is lucky enough to be married to the funniest guy in the world.
Connect with her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
Be sure to check out her YouTube channels at My Gen X Life and Word Salad With Coffee!
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by juliegd | Oct 26, 2015 | Expat Life, Portugal, Travel
I have loved Portugal for nearly my whole life. I first came here as a little girl for summer holidays with my parents. I can still remember the dry heat of the Portuguese summer, the ice-cream from the beach stalls that was never quite frozen, and the delicious pastries in the cafés. I’ve been coming back to the same city, the same coastline ever since.
The result is that, although I’ve only been actually living in Portugal for over a year, I sort of feel like a local. Take me anywhere in Portugal today and I’ll probably find the place imprinted somewhere in my memory, even though I thought I’d never been there before. I can go to the same ice-cream parlour I went to over 20 years ago and order the same flavour. There are family photos of little me sitting at the top of the farmer’s market steps just like my son does today. No wonder Portugal feels like home.
And then sometimes it is jarringly obvious that I’m not from around here. My Portuguese accent is from Brazil; sometimes I even still have problems understanding the local pronunciation. In the summer, most shop-owners think I’m an English tourist on a week’s holiday. I don’t vote, I’m not up-to-date with Portuguese politics and have no idea what’s on Portuguese TV.
But my most glaring lapse is that I don’t have any Portuguese friends.
It’s not by choice. The local expat community welcomed me with open arms and I simply haven’t had to look elsewhere. In Brazil, you could basically count all the foreigners in the city on one hand. Outside of the big cities, people would look at you funny if you spoke English. Waiters at restaurants would often confuse England with America, London with Miami.
Here, playgroup alone includes mums from Sweden, Germany, the UK and Holland. On Saturdays the organic market is full of French and German people. There are English, American and German schools up and down the coast and nobody blinks an eyelid when you say your child is bilingual.
On the one hand, it’s lovely to be part of such an eclectic international mix of people. In some ways I feel more at ease with other nomads like myself, who know what I’m talking about when I mention living out of boxes or moving every couple of years. But I worry that I’m missing out on the real Portugal. Did I really move here just to buy Waitrose tea at the supermarket and chat about the weather with other Brits?
Of course it’s lovely that I can buy peanut butter and proper English tea bags at the supermarket, but shouldn’t I be experimenting with local ingredients?
At the playground it sometimes feels that there is a bit of a “them and us” mentality between expat and local parents. Of course it’s difficult to mix when you’re not sure if the expats speak Portuguese (many of them don’t). Different attitudes to parenting don’t help: most Portuguese parents look aghast when I let my son splash through puddles without shoes or climb the slide – I in turn can’t believe they take their children to the park in such beautiful clothing (the washing! the ironing!). I wish it weren’t so. I don’t want my son growing up in Portugal but not a part of Portugal.
Since I’ve had no luck sidling up to Portuguese mums in the park, I’m trying to find other ways to connect with my community. A couple of weeks ago I bought a bus pass – what better way to get to know the neighbourhood than via the bus route? Plus, there’s always a friendly pensioner looking to chat about the weather.
Are you an expat or a local in your country? If you’re from abroad do you find it easy to mix with the locals?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Julie of Portugal. Photo credit to the author.
Julie, her husband and baby boy are currently living in Portugal, having spent the previous three years in the southeast of Brazil.
She considers herself a bit of an obsessive reader, and even more so since discovering she was pregnant. All that information has to go somewhere, which is why Julie started her blog, happy mama = happy baby, where she documents all the quirky parenting ideas she has collected so far.
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by Purnima Ramakrishnan | Oct 14, 2015 | 2015, India, Purnima, The Alchemist, Travel, World Moms Blog, World Motherhood
Today, I am going to tell the story of Lalit Galle whom I met in the Cinnamon Islands in Sri Lanka. He is a cinnamon peeler.
Entry to Cinnamon Islands
So, this last May, we went as a family for a vacation to Sri Lanka. It is a beautiful; tropical country and nice place to spend some leisure. There are all kinds of things to do, and it was a great time for us as a family, because we all got to do something. One such memorable trip was a River Cruise across Madu River.
Cruising on Madu River
There are a lot of tiny islands strewn around in the Madu river. The Cinnamon Island is a large island with a lot of (you guessed it right) cinnamon trees. Its bark is used as a spice in tea, coffee, gravies, and pies. So, it is here that I met Mr. Lalit Galle, who works on the cinnamon inlands. While shaving away the bark from the stick of cinnamon, he explained that his salary is just 20,000 Sri Lankan rupees (142 USD) per month.
A beautiful traditional river house on the banks of Madu River
He continued to shave the cinnamon strips while explaining about the cost of living and that this meager salary is not sufficient for his sustenance. He needs at least 40,000 Sri Lankan rupees to get by. He has two children, a 9 year old daughter and a 2 year old son. His wife and children stay in another Island, Bentota, where he travels to every weekend. He stays for just a day with his family and leaves to return back to the Cinnamon Island where he is employed.
Yes, that is definitely tough to be away from his family.
Mr. Lalit Galle shaving his cinnamon stick
He explained that his wife does some odd jobs around Bentota Island to make ends meet while her parents and her in-laws take care of the kids during the day.
Mr. Lalit Galle shaving his cinnamon stick
As I left, he told me that, one day he dreams to be able to live together as a family with his wife and children.
Mr. Lalit Galle proudly displaying his cinnamon stick
So, why am I telling you all this story of Lalit?
Life has its ups and downs. And since a few days ago I was feeling down. I assure you all, it was nothing serious, just a phase. But here I was swamped in my own tiny little world, and letting things get me down. Lalit’s story made me realize how important it was to be thankful to hug my family.
#WorldMom Purnima and Mr. Lalit Galle at the Cinnamon Islands
Lalit Galle dream in life was to live as a family with his wife and children.
Yes, everyone has their troubles, their miseries, their ups and downs in life, and we must muddle through. Feelings and emotions cannot change. But then, we just need to move forward, and work it all out, somehow.
As we rowed away, bidding goodbye to Mr. Lalit and the Cinnamon Islands, with the vibrant aroma of cinnamon becoming lighter and lighter, I said a little prayer for Mr. Lalit.
Has anyone else’s life affected the way you think in your life?
This is an original post from our World Mom and Senior Editor in India, Purnima Ramakrishnan. She wrote this on her vacation to Sri Lanka in May 2015.
Her contributions to World Moms Blog can be found here. She also rambles at The Alchemist’s Blog.
by Orana Velarde | Oct 1, 2015 | 2015, Culture, Indonesia, Travel, World Interviews
Sit back and take a trip with us to the Pacific, where World Mom, Orana Velarde, reports on the majestic Balinese culture…
Every place in the world has icons that represent it, an image recreated in all sorts of knickknacks and souvenirs for visitors to take home; usually a part of the culture that has much more meaning than can be inferred from a multicolored T-Shirt or fridge magnet. When visiting Paris, it is the Eiffel Tower. But since our family moved to the island of Bali, we have become acquainted with the cultural icons and mythical ceremonial creatures, Barong and Rangda, that ti s known for.
Barong is the king of all the spirits that strive for good on the island and looks like a mix between a dog and a lion covered with long thick hair and fiery eyes adorned with sparkly mirrors. His ultimate enemy is the evil widow witch, Rangda, with whom he fights to restore balance to the universe. She is embodied as an old disfigured woman with a long evil tongue, huge beady eyes and clawed fingers.
The most common representation of the Barong and his enemy Rangda is the Barong dance, in which dancers dress as the creatures to tell the story of the vengeful widow (Rangda) whom fueled by fury sets out to destroy the entire village that defied her. The village emissary fights her with good magic and turns into the Barong, saving the soldiers and the villagers from Rangda’s evil wrath.
For the sake of mass tourism, there are Barong dances held every night in the artist town of Ubud, but the original Calonarang ceremony and dance is only held in village temples and accompanied by spiritual trances and ritual offerings. These can last hours and late into the night, with a procession to the village graveyard and lots of Gamelan music.
It is believed that once you are at the ceremony you cannot leave, because the spirits are roaming the village and you wouldn’t want to run into them.
Just like there are tourist-centered Barong dances, there is also a mass production of Barong and Rangda masks for tourists to buy and for hotels and other cultural places to use as decoration. But the masks and costumes that are worn to animate the Barong and the Rangda are ceremonially crafted and hold all kinds of special connotations. The barong masks can only be made from the wood of the Pule Tree and permission must be asked of the spirits before the tree is cut down.
Most temples grow their own Pule tree so that when it is large enough, they can use it to make Barong masks that will belong to the temple.Out of one tree, depending on the size, two or three Barong masks can be crafted; these will be the Barong of that temple as if they were brothers. Once every Balinese year (210 days) they must come back to the temple for a Calonarang ceremony. When not in use, the ceremonial masks are wrapped in cloth and put away in baskets to keep the magic contained.
A few months ago my husband was invited to a real Barong dance (shown below) in a village about an hour away from our home. He told me it was one of the most surreal experiences he had ever had. The dancers were in trance and the masks and costumes of Barong and Rangda were impressively powerful. The ceremony lasted all night and ended almost at dawn.
And my kiddos love finding Barong masks all over the island. They like it even more when they find an entire Barong costume in a holding podium so they can climb inside it.
Barong and Rangda have become symbols for the island of Bali, just like the Eiffel tower for Paris and Macchu Picchu for Peru. If you are ever in Bali you should definitely see a Barong dance, but if you by chance get invited to a Calonarang Ceremony, be prepared for the experience of a lifetime.
What is your city, town or region known for where you live? What graces the local souvenirs?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by World Mom, Orana Velarde in Bali, Indonesia.
Photo credits to the author.
