It was our day off.  We decided to go to the movies.  The kids and the adults.  Except, it had to be two different movies, because not everyone is into Veggie Tales… So, we split up.  I enjoyed the humor (and at times the very unimaginative lack of it) of the asparagus, cucumber and the tomato, but most I enjoyed watching my kids having fun on their very special “night out”.  It was an all-out evening – they have been really good on this tour, behaving like little pros, so I decided to splurge.  After the movies we would go to a nice shopping mall right next to the theatre, where we would buy a DS game they both “really, really” like and have some ice-cream (I also had to “kill” two hours before Matt & Denny’s movie would end.)

Before we even left for the movies, I had called the mall to inquire about any children’s areas (most malls throughout America have indoor play areas or old fashion carousels. Some even offer a drop-off service.   There is almost always at least an arcade, or the traditional standby – a McDonalds with a play-place) The customer service person who answered the phone at the mall told me that their mall is for shopping (!)  

Well, perhaps she was having a bad day and didn’t want to talk on the phone (however, I thought, she should find a different line of work, if she doesn’t like answering phones)

It was already 7PM when we got to the mall.  Blais was getting tired and I decided I would get a cart with two seats and a nice big basket to put all the coats in.  But, when I got to the customer service desk there was only a security guard talking on a telephone.  I waited a few minutes and then decided to interrupt him – the boys were getting restless, Blais was running around and I was running out of patience.  “I would like a double cart, please”, trying to be polite. “Sorry, I am just watching the phones, the customer service people are on break.  Can you come back in 20 minutes?”

Ha, ha, ha.  Very funny.  “No thanks” I said and left, hoping to find another service desk with more carts.  

We walked by some very nice shops… Coach, Louis Vuitton, Salvatore Ferragamo, DKNY… I glanced over the windows, wanting really badly to step in and check out the latest fashions – I especially like to check out the workmanship on designer items, and how many are made in China – but of course didn’t.  Instead I strolled by only imagining walking in and having the dolled up sales girl being extra nice to my boys as I browse the racks of clothes. 

The next customer service desk was in this beautifully designed area, right in front of Lord & Taylor.  “Hi, I would like a double cart, please” I said to the woman behind the desk who immediatelly gave me the classic “one-up” look and said in the most unexcited voice “I don’t have any double.  The desk down below does. You can go there”  

“I just came from there and there was only a security guard servicing the desk”

“Well, I don’t have any doubles” 

“Could I have a single, then?”

“You have to leave your driver’s licence and it has to be back by 9PM”

What did I do to her, I thought?  I was dressed nicely, had my make up on, my boys didn’t look too shabby either.  And even if we did look shabby aren’t the days of class discriminating behind us? 

I leaned in and said in the nicest voice I could pull up, trying really hard not to show my frustration: “This is not really a child friendly mall, is it?”

She said in an equally quiet, forced tone: “No. This mall is for adults.”

“But adults have children, don’t they?”

“They leave them at home”

In retrospective, I can’t believe I actually ended up getting the cart – that meant I had to encounter her once again at the returning of the cart procedure before 9 PM.  

About an hour later, the boys and I were having some delicious ice-cream seated nicely on good-looking and pretty comfortable garden benches in a different part of the mall.  I watched them as all three of them ate so politely and so carefully, they would put many “adults” to shame with their manners.  Why did we became such “child unfriendly” society?  I remembered a story a friend of mine, a missionary priest in Africa, shared with me – about people sitting together around a fire and talking.  Each person was involved in the conversation and every old person was regarded with same respect as every little child was.  Everyone listened when even the little ones spoke, and with interest. 

At the time I was confused by his statement that “first world countries were uncivilized” — now I think I am beginning to understand.

Update: Within 12 hours of posting this entry, I received an e-mail from the mall’s Customer Service Manager who wrote: “We do not conduct business in this manner, and we plan on counseling our associates involved.  I apologize for the reactions and attitudes you received.”  I really appreciated her fast and pro-active response.

Despite all of the technology and all these people working hard to make it really easy for me to write my “diary” (they even let me forever abandon the word “blog” and continue with my more romantic version) I have fallen behind once again. On the other hand, there is Sharon, (a great girl who became a friend of our family through our music) who very lovingly and gently pointed out that she has my diary page bookmarked, but she knows that I must be very, very busy – so busy I don’t write!

Excuses, excuses, excuses…I don’t like excuses, so I decided to put Sharon’s picture on my Google calendar to pop up every few days and remind me with a gentle smile: Web diary! So, finally I’m writing. We are driving down the Penna Turnpike on a georgeous, sunny Thursday towards Allentown. I feel great, energized by the concerts and the effect they leave on those who attend, great crowds, stories that would blow you away – like the one of the young exchange student from Zagreb, Croatia who has been staying with a family in Versailles, Ohio (near Russia, OH where we had a concert). She was a bit disappointed with the scene in Versailles (a small town) because when you grow up outside of America, you think the entire country is like Los Angeles, New York, Chicago and Miami. No one ever talks about the corn fields of the midwest! The host family understood the young girl, who is a very sweet girl, and enjoyed taking her to see Chicago, New York and few other places. She was very grateful and very, very happy, but, she said there still was one thing she wanted to do while she was in America. She knew that Tajci lived in the States and mentioned it to her host family that if she could see and meet Tajci, all of her wishes would have come true. What are the odds? It’s a big, big country. But, the host family knew exactly who the girl was talking about – the mother had been to one of Tajci’s (aka Tatiana) concerts before and knew her story and her music well. The very next Sunday there was a flier in their Church Bulletin about Tajci’s concert in Russia, OH…

I have to admit that that day, when we drove into the little town of Russia I wondered: how in the world do we end up in these tiny little places and who on earth would show up for a concert? There was no “town” in sight. That night we had one of the most amazing dinner ever – all made from scratch, even the New York Cheesecake and Chocolate Mousse Pie – we thought perhaps it’s because there is no store around… It was an amazing night! After the concert I met Matea – the young girl from my home town. She was beaming with excitement and disbelief. I just regret I didn’t know she was there before the concert – because I would have sung a special song for her! (Not to use it as an excuse, but I didn’t think I’d be able to finish this entry – as I was writing we were getting the news about the attack of the US Embassy in Belgrade. Matthew was getting the phone calls and couldn’t believe that I was determined to stay focused on writing my “blog” I mean “diary”… or an update for Sharon

Well, I texted my mother and since she didn’t text or call right back, I know that I shouldn’t be concerned. Kosovo has always been a very touchy subject in old Yugoslavia and in the most recent years… we just need to pray that it doesn’t escalate into another violent Balkan crisis.)