Simplicity in Eritrea

I lived with my parents in Asmara in 2003. It was perhaps the most unique, out of character family experience we've had to date. I'm writing this on Father's Day, and I remember thinking at that time that my dad is "big in the big things", and that I want to be, too. This is because my dad dealt with a barrage of fairly serious, intractable bureaucracy the entire time they were in Eritrea. And did well.

There were many things about our lives in Eritrea that I'd like to remember and build on. Eritrea is not an easy place for most Eritreans to live, while I'm not going to talk politics here, I did want to acknowledge this with one story: A colleague of mine at the archives disappeared for a few days. He returned looking gaunt and tired. He had been in the countryside; his niece was gravely ill. She set herself on fire after she heard that her brother had been killed in the 1998 border war (which followed the tentative and hopeful peace of 1991-1998). However she, like many others, had only heard about her loved one's death in 2003, when the names of the war dead were posted on cafe windows. She would have lived-- her burns were not untreatable-- but she set herself on fire on a weekend, when there were no hospitals open.

There's no easy way to segway from that story-- and the many others like it-- to "Eritrea was awesome", but I wanted to hold a tension between forced simplicity and simplicity that is chosen. They are very different. What made Eritrea a blessing was that it was a piece of my life, not my whole life.

Our lives in Eritrea did not involve a lot of choice. Some days I'd spend the morning looking around (like a mouse) for cheese: had it arrived from Holland? If it had, we'd buy as much as we possibly could. If not, well, spinach again! Even a life of perfect simplicity cannot be without cheese, I think. Unfortunately, there was no ice-cream in Eritrea (and I didn't know how to make sorbet, nor did we have a freezer), otherwise I'd probably say the same for ice-cream. Apparently one can do without it, if one has to.

I would bicycle about 30-45 minutes to either the university or the archives in the morning (often with my dad) then bicycle 30-45 minutes back for lunch. If I felt brave, I'd do it again in the afternoon. Or I'd wander around the city or visit the family of an Eritrean academic. At night, I'd read or watch movies. There was very little internet, and the university library was stocked mainly with classics and some big journals. My time in Eritrea allowed me to read broadly and deeply-- I read all the great anti-colonial writers, for myself and not for anyone's approval. And while I can't quote them much, their ideas seeped deeply into me, informing my ideas about the world and my understanding of history. I read every current issue (and many back issues) of Scientific American, Nature, Science, and The Economist cover to cover, and I think that shaped me, also.

I'd like to reclaim some of that focus, the beauty of our two brief trips to untouristy Eritrean coral reefs near Massawa, effortless superwoman fitness, and a very healthy diet during the week (followed by a huge buffet every Saturday morning). Day-to-day life in Eritrea was very good to me, despite being close- at least physically- to people experiencing the very worst things, which makes me very hopeful that life anywhere can be very good.

Realizing a Dream

So, for our big news-- those who know us have likely heard about our plans ad nauseum, but for those of you who haven't: We're moving to South Africa! Our hope is to arrive in Cape Town in December. We'll leave Boston in mid-October, visit Eug's dad in Arizona, hang out with Lia (and Anna and Sarah and Yesica and Ray and Angie?), and then take a boat from Genoa to Cape Town.

We have a tree?!

Closer to Great-granny and great grandpa

We've been considering a move to South Africa ever since I moved back to the U.S. five years ago to marry Eug. The five years of waiting have been important. I remember someone told me once that if I wasn't content here then I wouldn't be content anywhere. That was helpful and not helpful: helpful in that it was probably true.  Unhelpful in that, feeling guilty about the restlessness I felt, I probably faked contentment for a while. And then real contentment slipped up on me.

So our upcoming move is bittersweet: We're very happy in Boston, we love our friends and our church. But the past few years felt like preparation for something. Over the past couple of years, we've begun to feel the timing on the move was right: doors (physical and metaphorical) opened in South Africa, and doors here (Eug's job, my job having a clear timeline) seemed ready to close. We were also financially ready.  Which I'm not saying to discourage people from taking leaps of faith, but for us, it would have been impossible to pay off US debt with South African rand, so getting financially ready felt like a spiritual discipline.

The physical door that opened...

By the time we return, it'll have been about eleven years that I've lived outside SA: in the UK, USA, and Eritrea, with visits to many other exciting places. Eug will have lived in Massachusetts for about 12 years (1997-present, with two years in Japan).

Noah already has his SA rugby gear (or wait, I guess he outgrew it...)

We're not totally sure what our overarching purpose will be in South Africa (or if we need one-- perhaps being and growing is enough), but it seems like a big deal just to be saying yes to returning when a lot of people have been leaving. That's not to say the move is a sacrifice- far from it- but that it's ok if the transition is not totally smooth. Or maybe I'm just giving myself permission to grumble at SARS and SA Home Affairs.

Preparation
Getting rid of stuff
We've already moved twice since Noah was born, but this move will be much more radical in getting rid of stuff, because of the cost of shipping. I liked what Baker did over at ManvsDebt to keep tabs on their family's stuff. I may try something like that on Concrete Gardener, if only to have a strong sense of why we're keeping what we're keeping.

Figuring out paperwork
We've entered a season of passports and visas as we get residence (temporary then permanent) for Eug, South African citizenship for Noah, and for me, getting U.S. citizenship and applying to retain South African citizenship. We're also figuring tax laws and money transfer. It's complicated, but we'll be well-poised to share what we've learned, should anyone need support in their own move. Our experience as a tri-continental family is that immigration status has been a fairly constant annoyance but never something that threatened to split up our family for any length of time.

The Logistics of Working from a Different Location
When we arrive in SA, our house will still be rented out and so we're still deciding where we'll stay (or travel) in the month before it becomes available. But as we travel and settle in SA, we'll be figuring out stuff like internet and working remotely. Eug already has practice at this: He's worked for his Boston clients while in South Africa, Korea, and Mexico. It'll be new for me, I'll be doing some work for my U.S. employer, while starting a PhD and doing some work in South Africa. And, uh, taking care of Noah.

As we prepare for our move and I continue the blog from South Africa, I'd love to hear from you (by e-mail concretegardenerblog (at) gmail (dot) com-- or via the comments section, whatever you're more comfortable with) what's been most helpful about the blog, and what's been less helpful, and what you'd like more of.

Thanks for all your support, either here in Boston, in South Africa, or from afar. We're so excited to see what's in store for us next.

Doing without a Cell Phone

One of the changes we made when we were trying to cut costs (on our second run of Lazarus at the Gate) was ending our cell phone service. I read a post over at Rowdy Kittens about ditching her cell phone, and it made me think of our journey to doing the same.

We don't have any phone contracts whatsoever. Eliminating our cell contract cut about $100/month from our budget. We talk to family and friends using skype and google talk, and Eug uses his Google number for most things. He uses a pay-as-you-go cell for when he's out and about. I have a work cell which makes me accessible in emergencies.

There are still some costs involved in being reachable, but we immediately save at least $1200/year of what we had assumed to be a necessary part of our budgets.

For me, the challenge that remains is to reconnect and have occasional long conversations by phone, which I used to really like as a means of catching up with people. I'd like to be available and present in other people's lives, so I need to be more deliberately reaching out, because I'm not easily reachable for a chat by phone.

Internet has totally transformed our need for cell phones, and it's one good example of a place where cutting a monthly bill allowed us to be more generous and pay off debt.