Chalmers for the tie...

The year of the Jayhawk.

First the Orange Bowl, then the National Championship. 2008 has been a great, great year for the faithful.

March in the Midwest

As most people were heading south for Spring Break, Chris and I headed north for a trip to Kansas City to visit family and enjoy the fresh weather.

We stayed at the Brunner "House of Fun" and discovered our love of family fooseball. The weather was great and we were able to catch up with KC friends, Chris's parents, Grandma Ruth, and Chris's sister Katherine and her husband Craig. We spent an afternoon in the NElson Atkins Art Museum, and if you haven't eaten in the restarant then you are missing out.

Summers and Mae interactive art piece.

Family Peek - a - Boo

Little miss no teeth with aunt Katherine & Summers.

Summers and Mae both spent more time than they would have liked practicing for their upcoming cello recital with Chris serving as the conductor/drill sargent.

A great week increasing our feelings of longing to return home. 6 plus months down and only a few more to go...

Don't cry for me.....

I had no idea Buenos Aires was SOOOOO far away. I mean it’s still in America, albeit South America, but still on our side right? Well, now I know there are four sides: left, right, up and down, not just two.

It all started with a trip back to Lincoln for a couple of days in late February and then down south with two good friends, Dr. Sandy and Dr James Gallentine. (perfect for my favorite Fletch line, Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr.) I do not check bags. I am a carry on only passenger, you pack it you carry it. Packing for this adventure was a little tricky, Lincoln and BA in Feb, hummm? I love a challenge and I take a little too much pride in being a ‘smart’ packer. At liftoff in Lincoln the temperature was -22 degrees F wind chill, upon touchdown in in BA the local temp was 93 degrees F. I’m no expert, but that is close to a 100 degree differential. See my dilemma…
After the grueling 11 hour gratis flight in coach I arrived in the land of tango in search of Sandy and James. Our airport reunion went smoothly and we headed into the city. Sandy is a trip planner extraordinaire, guide books, blog print outs and hand written notes on the back of scratch paper fueled our trip. James and I were pretty much on cruise.

We stayed in the BELMONT neighborhood, the Dr.’s at the Four Seasons, the third wheel at the One Season around the corner. Since I was traveling by myself I didn’t want to spend much time in, or money on, my room (after all I am Mrs. Thrifty). Now looking back on it, I definitely, absolutely, without a doubt, did not spend TOO much. It was a small economy room, on the 6th floor, street side, on a very popular street for clubbing. Which is good...because I club.

Buenos Aires is four hours ahead of central time. We had some grandiose plans of waking up early and running, unfortunately I kept waking up around 10 or 11 in the morning. The city was beautiful, in my mind it was most similar to Paris. Beautiful buildings, beautiful people, great food tons of history and an air of elitism.

We visited a few of the ‘touristy’ spots but mostly just walked the streets and soaked it all in. On the first day we walked down to the central square in front of the Pink House (also known as the “don’t cry for me Argentina” house) to observe a group called the mothers of the unknown. Around 20 years ago many people who were in opposition to the government disappeared in the middle of the night never to be heard from again. These mothers have been marching in front of the Pink House – their white house, said to be pink because they would mix the white paint with blood – in protest of their missing sons every Thursday for over 20 years.

Our only firm plans revolved around our dinners. Sandy had a list of the MUST GO restaurants obtained from blogs and personal recommendations. An early dinner seating would be around 8 or 9, so when our body clocks hit 6pm it was 10pm in Argentina. We felt very cool to eat with the trendy, hot locals that dinned until 1:30am on a Thursday night. No biggie…one night we even stayed up until 3am. And even then there were people on the street, having a coffee or ice cream. And not the creepy late night crowd,they were normal looking couples in their 50s and clean, well coiffed teenagers. It was the exact opposite of El Salvador where everything closes down, and boards up when the sun goes down, a virtual ghost town.

On Saturday morning we met up at the crack of 10:30 to make our way to a clay court Professional Tennis tournament. The tennis was great, we didn’t know the players, but the atmosphere was something else. Our seats were up in the bleachers, and I can’t even tell you who won. I can tell you that sandy was a little shocked when the crowd started cheering for a guy who won the fan raffle and was chose to go down on the court. They were chanting GORDO! GORDO! GORDO! Which she thought was a little offensive, but not here. The same in El Sal, gordita is a term of endearment and not used as an insult. Flaca is considered an insult, it means you are not healthy. And what did he care, he was the winner!

Sandy and I managed to return from a shopping trip with the two worst souveniars possible for “carry on” only passengers. Sandy found a lampshade that she couldn’t live with out and I bought three 1-gallon leaded glass antique spritzer water bottles. The Iowaian in me couldn’t resist all those cool glass bottles with the Argentine bottler pressed into the glass. I knew that Chris would say NO, so I decided to only buy three.

On our last night together we attended a midnight Tango show. Oh yes…tango. All the hype, spot on. James coined the name for their future boat, Tango Off Spring. After the show the dancers came out into the crowd, and Sandy was one of the lucky ones to be chosen to dance. While James and I were practically crawling under the table to avoid being “picked”, Sandy popped right up and became so engrossed that she lost one of her shoes. It is a beautiful dance, especially when the dancers are dark, mysterious, and foreign.

I spent my last day walking thru the antiques neighborhood, browsing in store fronts, watching street performers and drinking freshly squeezed orange juice. The people of Buenos Aires are mostly decendents of native argentine indians, Spainards, Italians and French. During the late 1990’s their economny crashed and many of the families sold off their possessions to antique dealers. I’m not an antiquer, most of it just looked old and guilded to me. Overall a great trip that I would recommend to anyone looking for a 11 hour flight.

Road Trip

The morning after the Promotion Ceremony, Don, Judy, Katherine, Chris and I piled into an SUV for a Road Trip to Antigua Guatemala. We had great directions, a beautiful day, and 3.5 hours of driving ahead of us.

The roads of Guat (pronounced Whhhhought)are not the safest place to travel, but we took all precautions and started on our journey. Chris and I understand that crime is high in this region, but we refuse to hole up in our apartment in hopes of avoiding an unfortunate event. We can’t really blend in, but we can leave our money, watches and rings at home when we go out. We don’t travel with things we can’t live without. If you are approached you are instructed by the force protection agents to hand over whatever you have or whatever they want. Do not put up a fight. Many people told us that we shouldn't’t drive to Antigua, they of course were the ones who had never done it. The people who had driven didn’t even think twice, their advice... be smart and have fun.

Chris has developed a habit of putting his hand up, shaking his head, saying ‘no gracias’ and whether in auto or on foot. There are vendors and pan handlers every where you go. This habit has carried over into all situations where we are unsure how to proceed. People are always trying to get your attention, trying to get you to stop walking, stop driving and buy their goods. The best course of action is to act like you know what you are doing and that you are suppose to be there in that exact parking lot even if you don’t have the right official invitation. If you stop to ask a question, there’s going to be problems…

Recently when driving on the road to the Cumalapa airport a person standing in the middle of the Pan American Highway (standard – usually in the process of herding a rouge cow or selling an endangered iguana) tried to flag Chris over. To which he said “no gracias” to himself and pressed down on the accelerator. About 500 meters ahead there was a police checkpoint where they issued him a speeding ticket, (bizarre in so many ways… for starters, half the cars on the road are operating with MAYBE one light, not just one tail light, but one TOTAL on the whole car! No problem) at this point his ‘no gracias’ did not work. Turns out the threatening street character trying to flag him down was with the fuzz and radioed ahead his PNC colleagues.

Out of necessity, Chris and I have become very comfortable behind the wheel in this Wild-Wild West Country. So much that it may be a little difficult to return to the civility of the Nebraska straight a ways. We have been driving here for over 7 months and continue to shake our heads at what appears to be a fatalistic mentality. On the way to Antigua I think I counted 13 white knuckled “Oh MY GOD” ‘s from out Yankee kin, who were not accustomed to the Darwin driving methods of Central America.

You name it, people froggering across the Highway, tanker passing tanker going up a hill on a curve – right before an oncoming tanker comes into view, and our favorite, the GIANT stick trucks toppling to one side with their overloaded cargo. Actually, I think I just stopped keeping track at 13. It’s not right, but Chris and I kind of chuckled at how unresponsive we have become to the madness of the roadways. I am just thankful that Chris is an excellent driver, excellent driver, and that we will be able to return to the peaceful roads of Eastern Nebraska.

Upon arriving into Antigua we checked into a five star hotel, Vista Real. Not as popular as neighboring Santa Domingo Convent, but 10 times as nice. There are only 5 suites in the entire hotel, and when I say suite, I mean sweet. I think Katherine's room was bigger than my first apartment. Within 4 minutes of dropping our bags down we were served cold beers, crisp linens and knock your socks off tapas on Don and Judy’s private patio. We could have spent the entire weekend lounging in the decadence of Vista Real, but we managed to break free and see a little of the town as well.

It was Don, Judy and Katherine's first trip to Antigua and they loved it. We spent the days alternating between eating, walking the streets, browsing in galleries, eating, exploring museums, eating, napping, and eating. The temperatures were a perfect 75 degrees Fahrenheit for Chris and I to act as Guias to our favorite haunts, after a nap of course.

Teniete Coronel

On February 8th Chris was promoted from a Major to a Lutenent Cornel in the US Air Force. Chris’s parents and sister made the trip down to El Salvador to be present for the ceremony. The promotion ceremony was attended by approximately 50-60 friends and presided over by the Cornel and Ambassador.

Chris’s commanding officer served as the MC and began the ceremony by telling a story about the first time she met Chris…. “I called up Chris while he was still in Nebraska to talk to him about the position. I remember thinking after I hung up the phone…What are we getting ourselves into…but we were desperate.”

After getting a few laughs from the crowd she went on to recount many of the accolades and accomplishments of Chris’s 20 years of service leading up to today. As Chris’s biggest fan, I was especially proud to hear all his praises sung in front of his friends, colleagues, family members and Embassy dignitaries.

She said that Chris was such a humble guy… (yes, I actually laughed out loud, but they were not joking). Chris’s easy going personality is not what you would expect from a decorated war veteran with 3 tours in Iraq and Afganistan. Many in attendance had no idea he was among one of the bravest, honorable and select few A-10 fighter pilots providing close, slow moving air support to the soldiers on the ground. Many in attendance had no idea that Chris’s father was a retired two-star General, or that the Nebraska Attorney General was a personal friend and traveled down to help pin on his oak leaf clusters. She made her point by saying that Chris was a good, God fearing, earnest man, raised in the heartland of America, who works his tail off without telling everyone how cool he is. The MC joked that she wouldn’t be surprised if President Bush was waiting in the next room.

After Chris’s father, the Ambassador, the Cornel, AG Brunning, and I pinned on his new rank he spoke to the crowd. He hadn’t been feeling well and I bet his dad that he couldn’t make it thru the speech without mentioning the bug. He didn’t say five words before the gig was up, “Thank you for coming… except the small paracite in my stomach…har har har”. Chris spoke about the one-man theory, his quest to be the same man regardless of the environment; work, home, pool, chuch, in the car…etc. It was very well received and our good friend commented that Chris Stokes is best unscripted. He cracked some (actually funny) jokes on the fly and won over the admiring crowd.

The second best event of the day was the party following the ceremony at pool. There were margaritas, mariachis, and a fabulous balloon arch. At the risk of being a corny cheese ball, I have to say that I am so honored to share my life with my unassuming husband. He is an inspiration to me and I look forward to the day when we pin on the star.