Is Your Passport Valid?

Once, my coaching buddy raced around Athens between basketball games to find an American Embassy when he realized his passport expired and he would be stuck in Greece. I would never let my passport lapse especially in our present political climate. I have feared my French husband will be denied entry into the United States, but I never dreamed that I wouldn’t be allowed out of the country.

On January 10, the ticket control attendant at the gate stopped me from boarding my flight to Amsterdam at the St.Paul/Minneapolis airport.[tagline_box backgroundcolor=”” shadow=”no” shadowopacity=”0.1″ border=”1px” bordercolor=”” highlightposition=”none” content_alignment=”left” link=”” linktarget=”_self” button_size=”small” button_shape=”square” button_type=”flat” buttoncolor=”” button=”” title=”” description=”« A problem? Me? I am American, » I said pointing to my husband. « He’s the foreigner. » « He can go, » the airline attendant barked. « You must stay. Your passport is expiring April 3. » « I know. I will go to the American consulate when I get back to Switzerland. » « M’am I’m sorry, you are not authorized to leave the country. » « But I don’t live here. » « You cannot fly internationally on an US passport if it is within 90 days of expiration. »” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””][/tagline_box] The hostess called her supervisor, who called his manager, who called the next higher up in the chain of command. They reiterated the rule and stared at the computer screen.

«But I live in Switzerland,» I pleaded showing my residency permit. More mumbling, more phone calls, more computer gazing.

With a last warning, they finally let me board the plane.

I am a well-seasoned traveler, but rules can change quickly especially these days with heightened security. After having lived in 4 different countries, I fear losing my identity papers because I know the rigors involved in establishing legality as an alien. How could I be unaware of this 3-month stipulation?

To avoid making the same mistake, here are some tips concerning your passport. (For more information go to this page.)

International travel is denied if you passport is within 3 months before expiration. Other countries may deny entry if your passport expires within 6 months. Entry into any of the 26 European countries in the Schengen area requires a minimum of 3 months

US passport photographs are very specific – expats would find it easier and cheaper to take passport photos while in the states at the local DMV or Walgreens than overseas.

Beware, you cannot wear glasses in the photo and you must not smile. Please don’t argue with the photographer (like the lady in front of me at Walgreens did) and demand a retake because you don’t like the way you look. This isn’t a Glamour cover shoot; it’s a passport. Forget vanity. Think safety. Face recognition software works better identifying non-smiling, glasses free photographs.

An adult US passport costs – $140 (or $110 for renewal) but it is valid for 10 years. It packs a lot of punch for your dollar. That little blue book allows Americans free access to over 100 different countries as compared to passports for many Middle Eastern and African countries whose citizens can only enter 30 some countries without visas.

Once back home safely, I filled in the paperwork online, then went to consulate in Geneva and filed for a new passport, which arrived by mail two weeks later. As I admired my new blue book, I marveled at my fortune being born in Illinois instead of Uzbekistan.

All in all it was surprisingly simple especially compared to renewing my American driver’s license, which entailed procuring my French marriage license, finding a valid translator, and five trips to the DMV, but that is another story. Stay tuned.

For more information on traveling, working, and living abroad check this official site.

We Are All Immigrants

Our President’s executive order suspending refugee resettlement and issuing a travel ban and entry into US of people from 7 predominately Muslim countries – Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Yemen – was deeply unsettling and a violation of core American values.

The United States of America was founded by people who fled their own homelands in pursuit of religious freedom and economic opportunity.

Research your own ancestry. You may be surprised to discover the genetic origins of « skeletons » in your closet. With the exception of the Native Americans, we all came from elsewhere or worse yet were stripped from our homelands and sold into slavery. Don’t believe me. Check the records of genealogy registries like Ancestry.com. Different nationalities and ethnicities have been mixed for generations.

We all share a history of sacrifices. In 1902 my Norwegian great grandmother, Eugenie and her young daughter, set sail for America to join my great grandfather, Johan Rosholt, who arrived earlier. A fortnight after landing on Ellis Island, her daughter succumbed to illness. Three months later Eugenie died giving birth to my grandma, Martha. Johan sunk into deep depression; Martha became a ward of the state, and at the age of four was adopted by a Norwegian couple. Years later, Martha married Gustav Olson, another Norwegian emigrant, who died at age 47. He left behind my grandma, two sons and a daughter, my mom.

On my paternal side, the McKinzie lineage can be traced back to Scotland to the Mackenzie Clan of Kintail. In 1655 Collin McKenzie settled in Maryland as one America’s first founding families.

My paternal grandfather, son of a tenet farmer, coached into his 80s contributing his salary to help others receive the college education he so greatly valued. Every step of his long career, he defended human rights as a staunch Republican supporter of Ronald Reagan, his former football player and lifelong friend. My grandmother never complained about her inauspicious debut or hard life, instead she spread good cheer with a welcoming smile and twinkling blue eyes.

The survival spirit of my ancestors flows through my veins. Like for so many Americans, the Ellis Island immigrant story remains etched in my family history, like a badge of courage.

In the past, emigrants hailed from predominately white European countries. Our present day refugees come from farther south nearer the equator line where due to climate skin colors can be darker.

Our stories as descendants of refugees, immigrants and slaves are one’s of perseverance and resiliency surviving the hardships of poverty and surmounting the evils of bondage.

Our people were not born on easy street with silver spoons in their mouth. The European, Asian and African immigrants, refugees and former slaves served in the military, paid taxes, and honored our flag. They worked hard at low paying jobs laying roads, planting fields and building schools. They suffered human losses greater than we can imagine.

Before we mandate measures with such far-reaching consequences as travel bans, we must be sure to have our « alternate facts » straight too.

« The list of countries banned makes no sense, » said Hasni Abidi, a Swiss specialist of the Arab world. According to the New-York based Soufan Group, ISIS recruits primarily from Tunisia, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Russia, and Jordan, countries not listed in the ban and with close ties to the US for most of them.

Chechen brothers committed the Boston Marathon attack, a man of Afghan origin (born in USA) committed the Orlando shoot out, and Pakistanis opened fire in San Bernardino.

Within days of taking office, in a violation of our most fundamental rights on which our country was founded, our President’s nationalistic rhetoric and actions have already alarmed and estranged our strongest allies.

Before we go imposing orders, building walls, and creating more barriers, keep in mind our nation was founded on the principals of religious freedom and built on the backs of « foreigners » slaves, refugees and immigrants.

[embedyt] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HtBZvl7dIu4[/embedyt]

Women’s Rights Are Human Rights

The inauguration day of our 45^th President was a day of despair that I spent wrapped up in a blanket shivering from illness and shuddering from the political tsunami. The stark contrast between Obama’s gracious farewell speech to the campaign of the new president-elect whose words offended everyone with his disparaging comments about women, minorities and immigrants made me cringe.

But a day later on January 21st, my spirits lifted when millions of women (and men) took to the streets in America’s largest protest ever. Wearing pink hats and carrying signs, protesters peacefully chanted slogans and mocked Trump’s sexist demeanor and discriminatory rhetoric.

I did not have the strength to join the peaceful demonstrators marching across the Mont Blanc Bridge in Geneva; I was on the phone crying with my sisters as I battled pneumonia again. Like so many other women and minorities, I am worn out. Weary from this nonsense. Why must we continue to fight the same battles we won decades ago?

My only consolation was in knowing that we are not alone. The movement spread to 670 places nationwide and overseas ranging from Berlin, London, Stockholm, Sydney and others. Spurred by Facebook event messages, thousands paraded down the Parisian boulevards protesting the sexist, homophobic, xenophobic and racist ideology Trump defended during his campaign.

Around the globe, demonstrators objected against all aspects of intolerance. In South American countries, gender violence topped the list. In Tokyo, the right to education was a major issue and in other parts of the world health care reform was the priority.

The demonstrations stemmed from Trump’s campaign fueled by audacious claims and divisive rhetoric. He dismissed allegations of sexual assault and his lewd comments, like “grab them by the pussy” as “locker room talk.”

I grew up on the sideline listening to demeaning locker room talk. The ultimate affront to emasculate a male was to call him, “a pussy” insinuating that he was a pansy, a sissy, a girl.

In the past women were insulted daily, treated as second class citizens and obliged to fight for the right to vote, to participate in sports, to earn higher education, to hold office, and to lead companies.

Today I did not have the strength to join my sisters and take to the streets, but tomorrow I will rise. I will return to the gym, encouraging my international athletes to keep fighting in face of defeat. To take that energy, that strength, that power back to their homelands and to use their gifts to make a better world.

From our streets to our offices to our playing fields discrimination remains insidious and girls are still reminded in so many subtle and not so subtle ways that they don’t count.

I cannot change public policy, but I can make a difference. Everyday. I can use my voice, my example, my courage to inspire other girls and minorities to reach for the stars, to believe that they count just as much as their white brothers and that their contribution is equally valuable.

We must all continue to make our voices heard.

Surviving Winter Depression

As winter winds rage outside my window, I watch the trees bow low and the snow swirl like mini sand storms. January is a tough month. Not only does the bitter cold make my bones ache, but the let down after the holiday frenzy leaves me feeling frazzled and empty. Throw a nasty virus into the mix leading to burning lungs, a pounding head and gunk-stuffed nose and the month becomes unbearable. Add to that an election result that filled so many with anxiety and a sense of doom that the January blues seem insurmountable.

I have been down and out every January for the past decade. Here are some ways I have devised to survive and thrive during the season’s darkest hours.

Scrap the to-do list. Check out mentally. Give into your body and rest.
Read a book or a magazine or anything to take you outside of yourself.
Drink lots of lemon water.
Do something mindless. Zone out watching a favorite team or Netflix series.
Call an old friend.
Walk even if it is only around the house the tiniest bit of exercise can lift your spirits.
Make a gratitude list.
Turn off the news.
Light a candle. Build a fire. Burn a log.
Meditate or pray.

Then remind yourself – this too will pass. There are brighter days ahead. Before long spring will be tap dancing at your doorstep. Daffodils will soon be waltzing in the wind. While trees turn green overnight, flower gardens will burst into a riot of color. When your health falters, bad weather hits and the sad, dark days of January bring you down – rest, reach out and remember gratitude.

Slow Down to Savor the Holiday Season

After a tumultuous year, pause to take stock, and reflect on the true meaning of the season. Holidays are loaded with sugar and sentiment and sometimes sadness for losses are felt so much more greatly at Christmas time. Don’t let the holiday frenzy take hold make time for kindness. You never know what burden that impatient, grumpy, long-faced lady in the line in front of you carries in her heart.

Do not let the twinkle of lights, sprinkle of snowflakes, and razzmatazz glitter blind you to the season’s true blessing.

Take a deep breath. Remember in the big scheme of things does it really matter if the cookies burn, the packages arrive late, the cards never get mailed? The true beauty in the holiday is in its’ imperfections…the crooked tree, the lumpy potatoes, the mismatched socks.

For as much time as you spend shopping, baking, buying, be sure to also pause to express gratitude to people working behind the scenes to pull off the holiday extravaganza… the postman, sales clerk, special aunts, and selfless moms.

As people journey across the miles to gather with loved ones, be mindful of the snowplow drivers, airline pilots, policewomen, firemen and other folks who remain on the job. And doctors and nurses, like our daughter and niece, who forfeit holidays to remain on standby to care for sick kids.

Personally, I want to thank my readers for your loyal following. A writer’s mission can only be fulfilled by sharing ideas with others; you give my words meaning. I appreciate the time you take to reflect, comment, tweet, share and repost my musings.

Whether you are celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or any other special tradition -I wish you a merry, peace-filled gathering. Regardless of how or with whom you celebrate in your mixed, blended, adopted, foster, same-sex, cross-generational, cross-cultural or whatever other combo makes up your family tapestry, seize the moment and savor it. There is no such thing as a perfect holiday in a one-size-fit-all family.

Regardless of which deity you worship or not, what makes the holiday “holy” is not pretty packages, bright lights, fantastic foods – it is the fellowship. This holiday season cherish your time together and give thanks for one another.

The true value of the season is measured by our human connections.

Our lives are richer because of each other.

A gift to you from us, another French favorite – candied slow cook leg of lamb.

Idiosyncrasies in American Behavior Healthwise

Americans are OCD about germs. You’ll see hand sterilizers in dormitories, Clorox wipes in homes, and face masks in health clinics. They wash hands obsessively, shower daily, and do laundry compulsively. Yet after living abroad for decades, I cannot help but notice some idiosyncrasies in this behavior.

In Switzerland, guests remove shoes at the door and bring slippers to dinner parties. Even kids comply without question. The no shoe rule applies in some doctors’ offices. My children’s orthodontist provided blue, plastic booties for everyone in his office. Imagine sitting in a crowded waiting room wearing mini shower caps on your feet?

In Europe no one dares enter a sports club or steps on a gym floor without changing to a clean set of sneakers. In my school, kids flunked PE if they failed to leave their shoes on shelves in the corridor before entering the changing room.

Nowhere is the difference in standards more blatant than at health clubs. In France changing stalls are like magic boxes. You enter the stall from the outside fully clothed and abracadabra you step out on the other side in a swimsuit and flip-flops.

One of the biggest absurdities I saw even in the ultra health conscious, St. Paul- Minneapolis area was that people walk into the club wearing their sweats, t-shirts and tennis shoes. They pump iron, ride the bikes, run on treadmills, attend fitness class, and then dash right back out the door in the same sweaty attire to shop at Target.

Even more alarming, they step in the sauna straight from the gym in workout gear while I soak in my swimsuit, the odd man out so to speak. One young woman plopped down in the sauna fully clad in her jeans, sweater, and boots. It gets cold in Minnesota, but really.

Most Americans are modest about their bodies except for that one girl wearing Gucci workout shorts and a halter-top. She turned her backside toward the mirror and snapped a selfie of her booty’s reflection.

But for the most part, the puritan ethic is deeply ingrained. No one undresses openly in public even within the safe confines of the same sex changing rooms. If women do change clothes, they hide behind shower curtains or underneath giant towels.

Bodies of all ages and stages of decline are more exposed on French beaches than in America’s fitness club changing rooms.

As an old athlete, I grew up in the days when the communal shower stall was the status quo. I became even more liberated living in Europe where people sit on towels buck naked in mixed saunas and women go topless on the public beaches

When did the Yankees become so uptight about their bodies?

Loosen up, America. Let it all hang out. It is good for the girls to air out now and then. Nobody cares what you look like; people are too busy sneaking peaks at their iPhones.

Besides you can always wash your hands on the way out.

Thought we needed a lighter look at life this week to brighten our mood.
Now if you really want to lift the spirits try this classic family recipe (Boeuf Bourguignon) from our favorite French Chef.