Urban Camping

Continuing on with our series, "The Glamorous Lifestyle of the Expatriate Family," you will recall, in our last installment we discussed air freight and sea shipments.  Air freight, of course, is the small shipment that you* thoughtfully packed in order to get you through until the sea shipment arrives.  Until then, you are - as my title suggests - camping.  But camping with running water, electricity, and household appliances.  And, in my case, a TV and an Xbox.  We've put away all the pots and pans, stocked up (a bit) on groceries, and come up with some simple but necessary arrangements to get us through until July 14th (or the 21st, but I would appreciate it if those of you who are so inclined would pray for the 14th) when the sea shipment arrives.

Mr. Logical and the boys have quickly gotten the living room set up ideally for ultimate father-son bonding:

When they're all gathered together in the glow of the flickering screen, stalking each other around some post-apocalyptic city ruin while armed with improbably enormous futuristic weapons and committing acts of unspeakable violence,  it's a heartwarming sight.  However - I know, call me a party pooper - what I'm really interested in is some trash cans and an ironing board.

"But MsCaroline," you are saying, "Why don't you just trot yourself out to the local E-Mart and buy yourself some trash cans?"

I'll tell you why:  because at this moment, somewhere in the Pacific ocean, a shipping container holding the Asia Vu family belongings in it is floating along, chock full of trash cans, recycling bins, ironing boards (ok, just one ironing board), clothes hangers, silverware, pillows, and a number of other household goods that I never fully appreciated when I had them at my disposal 24 hours a day.  And if I go out and buy some trash cans now, when that sea shipment arrives, we will be up to our ears in them.  Besides:  I'm cheap thrifty.  So there's the dilemma:  I really need these items in daily life, but I don't want to go out and buy them because I know they're on the way.  So, I am stubbornly refusing to go out and buy any.   In the meantime, however, living without them is extremely challenging.  What someone really needs to do is come up with a rental business for expatriate wives who are still on the learning curve.

You may ask why I am harping on about the trash cans.  Well, I'll tell you:  trash cans and recycling bins are something you never fully appreciate until your trash and recycling are lying about in random piles on the kitchen counter and the floor in spineless plastic shopping bags, spilling their contents every which way and causing you to wish that you could return to the evil days of the 1970s when no one except hippies knew about recycling and everything could be put in the trash with a clear conscience.  Even worse, there is no way to label anything, and, while I - as the only  person who is interested in keeping order in the kitchen - have a clear system (in my head) of what is what and where it belongs, my family does not, which leads to some pretty hilarious (by 'hilarious' I mean 'hostile') exchanges, wherein I grab an unmarked bag containing an empty plastic bottle, one soiled paper towel, and an empty wine bottle, and announce heatedly that this bag is for plastic only, not glass, and trash obviously goes over there in the small beige bin.  After this, everyone nods and goes right back to whatever they were doing before, only to repeat the entire scenario moments later, this time with a different bag containing a granola bar wrapper and an empty can. I'm determined, though, to spend some time brainstorming today and come up with a workable solution that will get us through until the shipment gets here.  I did, after all, remember to bring a lot of Tupperware;  you can always work with Tupperware.


*I did not.