Heightened Unease about Security

Everyone in our household will be a bit sluggish today as we had a good night's sleep interrupted.

I'm not really sure what time it was - I'd ballpark it around 4:30 a.m.ish - but our reliable guard dog got excited and started barking and growling.

At our apartment, this meant either a dog was in the hallway, some kids were running past our door or someone was at the door. And all of that would have been fine here as well, if she were barking and growling at the front door. After all, that leads to the street where anyone who got home late could be.

But Tiffy was growling at our backdoor, which leads to our walled-in backyard with spikes on top of the walls and where you need to know the secret handshake to enter.

Our initial reaction was to settle her down and get back to sleep; it was early, we were tired, and Tiffy sounding her alarm was nothing new to us. Nothing new to us in the States at least. It was new to us here. Especially at night.

So a couple of minutes passed and Natalie asked if I still was awake. Yeah. Should we (me) check the back door? Yeah, I think so. Peek through the blinds and couldn't see anything.

House is locked, right? Yeah. Maybe we (me) should lock the panic room just in case. The "panic room," by the way, is nothing more than an extra set of iron-rod gates that divide the house in half. My general feeling is that if someone managed to get through the gated community's security measures, past some of the other surprises the State Department provides and into our house, which requires getting through at least one more set of iron-rod gates and locked doors, and beat the security system (beginning to sound like Ocean's 11), I don't think another set of iron-rod gates will slow them down that much.

But it is early in the morning, we're both more than a little perturbed by Tiffy's outburst, so I more than willingly oblige. And it was a good thing I did, too, because it revealed a chink in our home's armor.

Another crucial part of the intricate security system is changing the locks between every resident. In changing our panic gate locks, it appears they didn't do such a good job in realigning the lock. The dead bolt hit the door as opposed to going through the hole in the door. Oops. Guess what it is getting fixed today.

So instead of easing the situation a little, trying to lock the panic gate probably only upset us a little bit more (at least it did me). The air condition would turn off, and it would be silent and I would listen for any sound. Then the air conditioner would kick back on, and I could hardly hear anything at all above the racket.

Eventually I heard Tiffy let out one of her big sighs, and I knew she no longer was upset about whatever she thought she heard in the backyard. And that finally let me try to get comfortable and fall back asleep. Which I eventually managed to do, though for had to be only a short period of time.

I have no idea what she thought she heard. Perhaps there was a critter lurking about. Maybe it was the Chupacabra. Maybe she heard something on the street behind us. In all likelihood, she was just having a bad dream.

<--- (Was this in our backyard? Consider it an unsolved mystery.)

But she did manage to draw our attention to a flaw in our fortress, and we only paid for it with a few hours of sleep. Nothing a large cup of coffee can't fix, so I walked to the nearest convenient store and indulged myself. (Ha...I bet you were anticipating another welcome kit rant. Not this time.)

Expanding on the Welcome Kit

Based on a few comments and some of the search terms leading people to this blog, I guess there is some interest in the vaunted welcome kits. So I'll indulge.

That black chest is the bulk of the welcome kit in all of its glory. As mentioned in one of the comments by Something edited this way comes, there appears to be a movement toward disposable welcome kits; this seems entirely wasteful to me, but it probably is just a drop in the bucket compared to our nation's budgetary problems. Our welcome kit is of the nondisposable nature, which means we have to account for everything in it when we return it and everything needs to be in decent shape, or we have to pay some sort of penalty.

Given some of the items we received, I'd be curious as to what is in the disposable kits. We do have some pots and pans; granted they aren't the highest of quality, but they are reusable. We also have table settings for four and some Pyrex storage containers. All reusable.

The welcome kit also includes a microwave and television (obviously are not brand new), which I'm assuming those are in the disposable kits but probably are not to be disposed.

As Jen points out in another comment, much of what we receive in the welcome kit is not exactly top-of-the-line quality. So if there is something you can't live with out, say for example, comfortable, non-terry cloth towels, then you might as well bring your own and not rely on the State Department's towels.

Here is a little peak into our welcome kit to give you an idea of what we aren't using. Hangers, towels, wash cloths, bed spreads and a few kitchen items mostly such as a salt-and-pepper grinder (cheap enough just to buy some at the store), flatware (brought a set of our own), and a butter dish. That was one of the "What the F!@$" moments when going through the box. You mean we can have this all-important, can't-live-without butter dish, but you couldn't spring for a toaster or coffee maker?!?

We got a pie pan, which is another interesting inclusion considering we don't have a rolling pin to roll out the dough, or a pastry blender to make the dough. But I'm sure there are better cooks out there that I've figured this one out as I often fall flat when it comes to being a pastry chef.

And oh, how could I forget that they also provided a sugar bowl. You know, for in case if I want to add sugar TO MY COFFEE!!!! Argh! Where is my coffee pot?!? (Obviously, I'm not getting my regular dose of morning caffeine.)

Hope that helps for all of you first-time-diplomats-to-be as you start packing for your new adventures.

Air Freight Nightmares

Before I delve too deep into our lessons learned about packing air freight, let me first call your attention to a new page to EF'M. It has a permanent link in the left column with the disclaimers, but it essentially is a list of hated, and thus replaced, State acronyms and phrases. Instead of typing out "air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the use of UAB)" every time, I'll just link back to this page.

Moving on, we failed miserably in packing our air freight. Which is doubly embarrassing considering we drove to post meaning we should have had amble space for bringing necessities to Hermosillo.

Part of the problem stems from the fact that we made too many assumptions about the welcome kit. For example, we left behind our toaster and coffee maker thinking those would have to be in a welcome kit. I'm also wishing we would have brought a cookie sheet or two as well become some frozen food just doesn't microwave well.

Alas, we are toaster, coffee and baked goods-less for the next month or so. In fact, our kitchen is quite bare and makes cooking a dreadful, unfulfilling task. I didn't realize how much I love my gadgets and seasonings until I've been asked to cook without them.

"But you guys had 450 pounds and a car load. What did you pack?" you might ask. And a good question. Also by not knowing our welcome kit, we've doubled (and tripled) up on some items. For example, our government-issued bed came with bedding. So did we. Two sets of bedding, actually. But wanting to use government bedding is understandable, I suppose.

The welcome kit also came with towels. So did we. Almost our entire linen closet made it here, actually. This was part of the problem with our pack-out plan. Natalie was in charge of the air freight while I kept an eye on everything else. And we didn't really do a good job of prioritizing our possessions.

That, and Natalie really likes clothes. And she brought everything except her dead-of-winter wardrobe. The good news is that she has her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey I haven't seen her wear ever. And at least two bath robes, including the heavy one, which is so necessary in the desert in the summer. She also really likes hangers. I'd estimate that we packed about 30 pounds of hangers. (The welcome kit also had about 20 of those.)

I shouldn't pick on her too much, though, because I probably went a little over board on the clothes as well. I brought all of my dress pants because it is important to be dressed while sweeping sand and doing dishes.

We also had to take care of Tiffy by packing a 50 pound bag of dog food in our air freight even though we were driving with about 30 pounds or so in the car. Better safe than sorry, I suppose, but I highly doubt we'll be opening another 50-pound bag of dog food before our ground/surface/sea freight arrives.

There are a few success stories, however. We had our desktop computer and printer sent in the air freight. For anyone else shipping a printer, it is a good idea to remove the ink cartridges before it is sealed because I guess those tend to leak when jostled about.

I also smuggled one frying pan, spatula and pizza cutter without Natalie knowing. When I told her, she was a bit annoyed, until we started using it. The welcome kit does come with some pots and pans, but I would hate to rely on these for much more than boiling water. They are on the thin side, and I couldn't imagine trying to cook anything like a chicken breast on it because the outside would get crispy well before the inside would be done.

The major lessons learned are this. You don't need nearly as much clothes as you think you do. You'll have a washer and dryer after all. And get to know your welcome kit. I wouldn't ask the post what is in it, because it is a pretty long list. Rather, ask specific questions, such as, "Is there a coffee maker in the welcome kit?" That should not take the people working at the post quite as long to determine.

Good luck to those of you who have pack-out day on the horizon, and please learn from our mistakes.