The Heusens

There were a few interesting things that happened during our trip to Bloomington.

First, we observed daycare facilities. I felt like I was flying blind because I have no idea what to look for in a day care. Fortunately, we realized really quickly that there are clear winners and losers. The first daycare place we visited was terrible. The director forgot about our appointment (which I'd only confirmed twice in the last three days) and wasn't there. The rooms were dirty and there was baby food smeared on the floors in some rooms. The caretakers walked in socks (I guess this is standard in infant care rooms) but some were in bare feet. It grossed me out because the floors were really dirty to begin with.

I consider myself to be a pretty chill mom. I let Saya play with just about anything, put most things in her mouth, and let other people hold her. When an airline stewardess handed Saya a cup filled with peanuts to play with, did I freak out about potential allergies? No. But I do like to think that, despite the lack of cleanliness and order in my home, I have some basic standards.

In the toddler room, a little girl (maybe 2-3 years old) was wearing one of those snowsuit jumpers...with nothing on underneath. OK, cool. The jumper was pulled down around her mid-thigh, exposing her private parts to the entire room. Ok, cool. But then...this girl started playing with herself. I'm not talking an absent-minded brush with her private areas. I am talking about full-on digging around. A major excavation was taking place. She was All. Up. In. There. Then: hands in mouth, hands on other kids, hands on everything around the room.

Kris and I watched this little play unfold. We were confused. The daycare supervisors seemed completely oblivious. It was kind of impossible not to notice what was going on. I guess I was glad they didn't yell "BAD!!! DIRTY GIRL!!!" at her or something like that. But sheesh...call me crazy, call me old-fashioned...but um, maybe, just maybe, you might want to encourage her to at least wash her hands?

Finally, one of the supervisors seemed to notice our horror. She scooped up the little girl and gave her some kisses (the whole time, I'm thinking ewwww, wash her hands first!) and then tried to lovingly talk her into putting on some underwear. I thought "THIS is daycare?!"

I was thinking it was time to seriously re-norm my expectations, but fortunately, the next daycare we observed was completely different - clean, and totally awesome. We fell in love with the director, and the facilities are amazing. Now we're just crossing our fingers that Saya will be placed there - right now, we're 12th on the wait list.

We also got a sneak preview of "Life as an Asian" in Bloomington. I guess I just had no concept of what it would be like living in an area with so few Asians. People are nice - we didn't encounter any blatant racism - but there is a clear lack of exposure to diversity, and some of the comments we heard were kind of unsettling. I mean, people seem to be benignly ignorant, or just curious. But the comments made me feel like an "other" for the first time in my life.

In Bloomington, Asians are the smallest minority group (2 percent of the population) - in fact, there are more Native Americans in Bloomington than Asians. Also, most of the Asians are international graduate students and professors from Asia, rather than Asian Americans. For the most part, there isn't really an understanding of Asian America, or a community there. I've been thinking a lot about the comments I heard last week, and thinking about potential responses. When we move there, I want to be very conscious about celebrating Saya's diversity and bringing awareness to the community. And I want to find healthy, positive ways of making people aware of the comments they make, rather than feeling like I have to just sit back and take it.

At the end of my first trip to Bloomington last year, I got a pedicure at the Indianapolis airport. I was chatting away with the pedicurist, and voiced my concerns about the lack of diversity in Indiana. I told her I was afraid to move somewhere where so few people look like me. Her response? "We have PLENTY of you people." Well! I had no idea what to say. "Oops, I didn't realize y'all met your quota?!" I dunno. It's just one of those comments that's difficult to respond to. You don't want to be rude, because maybe she didn't understand how her words came across. But you also don't really want to let it slide, either.

This trip, we experienced several more weird comments. The sheer number of comments over the four day trip left me a little unsettled.

Incident 1
While viewing a rental property, the manager tells us about a great daycare facility and how one of the caretakers is "the nicest Indian woman"...so nice, in fact, that he wishes he could adopt her. We weren't really sure why her ethnicity was relevant here. Would he have bothered to mention her ethnicity if she were white? Don't think so.

Incident 2
While visiting the daycare facility described above, I comment that I'm pleasantly surprised by the diversity in the infant room (four of the eight babies are racial or ethnic minorities). I'm told proudly by the caretakers that one baby is "Mandarin-American" (funny - I didn't know that was an ethnicity). Another caretaker is "surprised" that one of the other little boys doesn't think I'm his mommy - because he gets excited every time he sees "an Asian lady walking by". And, guess what? As a matter of fact, I look just like his mommy! Go figure. To prove the breadth of diversity, one of the caretakers mentions that she's half Jewish, but sure is glad that she (and I quote) "doesn't have a huge messed-up nose." Hmmm.

Incident 3
While visiting a different daycare, a caretaker asks us about Saya's name. I told her that it is a Japanese name and was about to explain the meaning when she gleefully announced "I can tell that you're from Japan!" I weakly responded in a small whisper that I'm not actually from Japan.

Incident 4
While at my new colleague's house for dinner (incidentally, she and her husband are both Asian-American), she recounts how neighbors don't realize that she's Asian, because she is a native English-speaker. Which might explain why one of her neighbors loudly complained to her about their other Asian-immigrant neighbors, saying "I don't know why these ASIANS cut their lawn so short. These ASIANS are just so obsessed with cutting their lawns!"

Incident 5
On our last day in Bloomington, the managers at our B&B asked us if we'd found a place to rent. We told them we'd found a place but weren't totally thrilled with it. One manager asked us if we'd looked at apartments, and I told her no, because I didn't want to be in undergraduate housing. This is what she said: "Well, actually, there are a few apartments with those - and I don't know the right term for them, but - those ASIANS, you know? And they tend to be more quiet." I was like, "Oh..."


Watch out, Bloomington. Yellow Peril is comin' to getcha.
And EDUCATE you.
And REGULATE you.

In a quiet, unobtrusive kind of way, of course...

Posted by Ashlyn at 2:57 PM | Permalink | Comments

Let me tell you a little bit about our trip to Bloomington. It was complete CRAZY.

Thursday night, we arrived in Indianapolis after five hours of flying (plus a two-hour layover in Denver), grabbed our rental car, and drove 70 minutes in MINUS five degree weather to our B&B in Bloomington. Needless to say, Saya just about had it.

At 2 a.m., we checked in to the Scholar's Inn, a very cute, early 20th-century house. We stayed in the Annie Fellows Johnson Suite:


What wasn't so cute about this room is that it was separated from the kitchen by an old wooden (read: not soundproof) door. So when the manager started preparing breakfast at 6:30 a.m. (3:30 a.m. by our clocks), we heard everything. Between that and Saya waking up about four times, I think I maybe slept two hours.

We'd set up appointments to see a dozen rental properties, observe three day care facilities, have three separate meetings in our hiring departments, and managed to schedule three social dinners. It was a whirlwind of a trip.

The rental market in Bloomington is surprisingly terrible. I'm totally used to the California rental market, where things pop up on Craigslist and get rented within a matter of weeks. I'd thought we could go out to Bloomington sometime in May to secure housing, but I was wrong. Apparently all the rentals are done on the academic cycle (August to August), and they're rented out - mostly to students - within a matter of weeks in January. I was completely shocked when roughly half of the initial appointments I'd set were canceled because they were rented in the week before our trip.

The rental stock is weird. Because the housing in Bloomington is so affordable, most professors buy...so the rentals are usually student housing. What's so weird to me is that a lot of the student housing is in these gorgeous old turn-of-the-century limestone cottages. They are absolutely beautiful on the outside. Then you walk in...and realize that EVERYTHING is original. And landlords do not want to spend a penny on the interiors, because they'll be ruined by students.

For example, there are original clawfoot bathtubs that are completely blackened on the inside...from, oh, just A HUNDRED freaking years of use. And the kitchens haven't been updated (older kitchens tend to be miniscule - and some of these had original pedestal sinks in the kitchen - I'm talking sinks that are the same size as my bathroom sink). The floors were original and had large cracks between the floorboards, or were incredibly uneven. Lots of these places were populated by freshman boys. And the landlords seemed kind of surprised that we wanted to see these places. But how was I supposed to know that the house described as a "beautiful 3-bdrm, 2 bath limestone cottage" was a total dump? I don't know the areas. All the streets in Bloomington look nice, and the university doesn't provide much support for househunting. It's very laissez-faire over there, I guess because they figure anyone can buy. The only guidance I got was from one faculty member, who told me not to live in a particular area because I "might have to lock my front door" as if that were some sort of huge imposition. Isn't that kind of cute?

We saw a bunch of places that were old, old, old. We were told we could rent a nice, newer home if we were willing to move into a subdivision a few miles from the campus. But our goal was to walk to campus and to the downtown area. I mean, a move to Bloomington is enough culture shock to me, so I want to be as close to public amenities and shopping/restaurants as possible. I didn't think I could handle moving to a subdivision on top of everything else. The problem is that the housing next to the campus was all constructed in the early 1900s. And the only updated houses aren't rental properties.

We ended up looking at some Downtown lofts. New construction, and beautifully done - but with no storage space at all, and no parking! And the prices they were charging were outrageous. Apparently the lofts tend to get rented to rich students from the East Coast...but can you believe that people pay $2,500 per month for a three bedroom loft with no storage, and no parking...in INDIANA? I had to put my foot down. I felt indignant.

By Friday afternoon, I was totally burnt out and thinking that we should just buy a place. We could buy a home and pay less on the mortgage than for rent at some of these places. I was moping around saying "But the whole reason why I'm moving out here is because I thought I could actually afford to live somewhere nice!" I was even more inspired when I went to a new colleague's house for dinner. It was absolutely gorgeous. But she told us she bought her house over the course of a single weekend, when she and her husband saw 38 different houses and just committed to one.

We ended up driving around for two hours with a really nice realtor. She showed us a lot of different areas and where all the good elementary schools are located. Ultimately, I decided that, even though it's cheaper to buy in some areas, I couldn't commit to buy a house in one day. I was afraid I'd regret being locked in without knowing the area or where to live. Even my colleague with the gorgeous house said that she wouldn't re-choose the house she'd purchased, because she would have noticed negative things about it if she'd taken more time. So I decided not to stress myself out and opted instead to delay my housing gratification for yet another year.

So we signed a lease on our best rental option. It's a one-story ranch style house on a gorgeous tree-lined street, in a neighborhood filled with professors. It's within walking distance to campus and downtown. It's 1,700 square feet and has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a bonus room, attached garage, large fenced backyard, washer, dryer, and dishwasher (none of which we currently have) and is really nicely laid out. And we're only paying $100 per month more than for our current one-bedroom apartment in Northern California.

Here it is, in all its glory:


Sounds perfect, right?

But did I mention...the inside is horridly, disgustingly, horrifically ugly? Sigh.

Posted by Ashlyn at 9:19 PM | Permalink | Comments

Tonight we had Nicole over for dinner. At some point, she commented that she could not possibly imagine me without Kris.

I can imagine myself without Kris. You know how, in The Little Mermaid, Ursula turns mer-people into little pathetic-looking sea worms? Well, that's pretty much how I would be without Kris. (Sorry, hopefully you understand the reference...I tried hard to find an image but got sick of googling things like "poor unfortunate soul" and "sea witch punishment" and "Ursula worm.")

Without Kris, I would not have fantastic dinners like the one we had tonight. We ate cheddar soup with garlicky garlic bread, with brownies from Marsha.

I really love this cheddar soup. It's filling, makes enough for leftovers, is really flavorful, has a bit of a kick, and is particularly satisfying on a cold night. And the leftovers are really good leftovers. Leftovers you can't wait to dig into the next day. Not the kind of leftovers you feel like you have to plow through so you don't feel guilty about wasting food.

Maytag Cheddar Soup
courtesy of The New American Cheese, by Laura Werlin
Serves 4-6

Ingredients
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
6 scallions, chopped
3 stalks celery, diced
2 carrots, diced
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
5 cups good-quality unsalted chicken stock
1 large russet potato, peeled and diced
1 cup milk or half-and-half
1/2 pound cheddar, preferably white, coarsely grated
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Salt (depending on the saltiness of the cheese - I like to add a few sprinkles of Maldon sea salt)

In a large pot, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the scallions, celery, and carrots and cook until limp, about 10 minutes. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables, stir, and cook for 3 minutes. Add the chicken stock, 1 cup at a time, stirring constantly. Add the potatoes. Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are soft, 20 to 30 minutes. At this point, you can puree the soup in a blender (or use an immersion blender) or you can leave it chunky. A puree will result in a thicker soup (I prefer to puree mine), while the non-pureed version provides a variety of textures. Both taste good. Whisk in the milk, cheese, Tabasco, and Worcestershire. Taste, and add salt if needed. Serve immediately.

Posted by Ashlyn at 12:25 AM | Permalink | Comments

I'd love to think that you care about my lengthy posting delay and that you missed my daily rantings. In case you do care, I apologize! Profusely! Busy was taken to a new level in the last two weeks.

Here is what happened:

A trip to the Milk Pail. If you live in the Peninsula and haven't been here, you are missing a phenomenal experience. Bake your own croissants and get gourmet imported cheese for $2.

Saya and I went to L.A./San Diego for four days last weekend. In L.A.:

I had two important, long meetings with people from the mortgage bank I'm working with for my research. We ironed out some important contract issues.

We visited Kris' mom and grandma.

We had a birthday dinner for my dad at Taleo Grill in Irvine. I had a delicious dish of caramelized carnitas. We gave my dad a webcam so he can videochat with Saya.

In San Diego:

I ran the Kathy Loper 10k Super Run last Saturday. I finished in 1 hour, 10 minutes...exactly when I thought I'd finish. I kept pace and ran the entire time. And I am not ashamed to say that I finished in 918th place (out of 1027). But I am ashamed to say that my almost-59-year-old dad, who did not train at all, finished before me! To be fair, my dad is, like, the most athletic person I know. But still. And I am so proud of my mom for walking the 5k and pushing Saya in her stroller!

I felt really good throughout the whole run. But then, the second I stopped, my body decided it wanted a "break" so I spent the weekend hobbling around like a broken woman. (Was my dad sore at all? Of course not!)

I took my battered body to a victory brunch at Cafe 976 in Pacific Beach. I really wanted to go there because I am a sucker for restaurants inside of little houses. But this place didn't bring out my sandwich until after my mom was done with hers. So maybe don't bother. It's a good thing I run, because I'm really chill about stuff like that nowadays. I think it's the endorphins.

I hung out with Miguel and Juliana in our hot tub and saw our family friends Laura, Nazy and Rosy. There was an awkward incident involving Saya smacking her lips upon seeing Juliana's bikini cleavage. Heh.

That night, Saya and I were privileged guests at Jenn's house where we met up with Daphna and Mike, who are moving to Virginia for their awesome new jobs (Daphna will be an Assistant Professor at the University of Virginia)! We had amazing food: guacamole and chips, steak, sausages, jalapeno burgers, and two different salads. And ice cream and brownies for dessert. It was awesome. The best part of the evening was the most amazing conversation. At some points I was near tears, I was laughing so hard. Thanks Jenn, Daphna, and Mike for a great evening!

Sunday brought brunch with Miguel and Juliana at the Broken Yolk Cafe in Carlsbad, where I devoured five pieces of French toast with strawberries, whipped cream, and six slices of bacon. Oh yeah, and a Grande White Mocha from Starbucks. Yesssss.

After a long drive back to L.A., we hopped on a plane and were back in Northern California...for all of two days. I had work, work, work and more work, lunch with Chienyo (where he totally diagnosed my knee issues - yay!), cleaning, six loads of laundry, tax return filing, and packing...and then, we boarded a plane to Bloomington on Wednesday. It was time to figure out housing and day care for next year, and to meet with our departments to discuss administrative stuff (office space, and lab space for Kris). We left our home early on Wednesday and finally arrived in Bloomington at 2 a.m. on Thursday morning.

Did I mention that it was 5 degrees below zero in Bloomington? And that the previous week had seen the biggest snowstorm in over a decade, prompting one of only two school closures in the last twenty years? That's why I freaked out the previous week and had this delivered to our doorstep in the nick of time to bring along on our trip:


This infant snow bunting cost $60. Was it worth it to use for one day on the trip? Yes. Was it cute? Yes. Did Saya hate it? Yes.

We returned home last night, completely exhausted. I realized I've averaged around five hours of sleep per night for the last two weeks. I feel like I'm on the verge of getting sick (although this did NOT stop me from going to dim sum with Marsha, Eileen and Demetra today to honor the last day of Chinese New Year).

The trip to Bloomington deserves its own post. Man, do I have stories for you...

Posted by Ashlyn at 9:17 PM | Permalink | Comments