Showing posts with label Mom and The KIDS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom and The KIDS. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Momma and her Boyees

A little before her Christmas galavant to St. George (minus dragons), Wendy was feeling enormous parental guilt at abandoning her spawn, and leaving her husband to work, babysit, feed, clothe, clean, and change the diapers (oh, wait: no diapers), and so she decided to treat them to a day at the zoo, followed by steamers at Starbucks, which has evolved into something of a personal coping strategy, and thus it is a great honour to share in the ritual.

Ahem. Back on track. Number 1 elected to stay home, being far too old for zoos, and far too cool for anything not deep-fried. He stayed in his room, silent (but deadly), mooning over some girl, no doubt, far away in Castelnuovo di Farfa, who was no doubt mooning over him, but probably in Italian.

I, on the other hand, was not mooning anybody, but was hard at work earning a living in my office, and maybe watching an episode of Prison Break online. Maybe.

Here's what Wenders got up to. I've posted this under her account so she can edit at will, with the proviso she not remove any mooning jokes or the stuff about steamers.


"Oh that ain't the half of it! Oh no, sistah! She was all like, 'oh no you ditint!' And I was like, "Oh yes I ditit!' And she was all like, "Get ouch mah face!" And I was like, "That's yo face? I thought it was yo momma's toupee!' Hee-hee! Girl, I was all up in her bizness, uh-huh!"



"Tyger, tyger, burning bright
"In the forests of the night,
"What immortal hand or eye 
"Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

"Kgkgkgkgkgkgkguh-kuh-kuh-ngaw. Huh? Sorry. What? You say something? Geez, I musta dozed off for a minute there."



". . . and we have a message we'd like to share with you: 'Nanananabooboo! Plllssllsplspllst!'"



"Hey Doris!"
"Yeah, Merv?"
"You got any uh dat cream left ovah?"
"I dunno, why?"
"My keistah is faschliggudah! That's why!"
"Oh my goodness. Honey, I don't think the cream's gonna cut it this time. Maybe you should go and see my son, the doctah!"



More monkeys, fairly evolved. Makes one almost believe old Chucky D. Well, wholesale, that is.



Nice work on these next two. Look out, ec. Wendy's gonna be all up in yo bizness!




"Ziss precociouss 'jungstehr'--ha ha, zat'ss a liddle choke I made zere (oh, zat's anuzzehr vun: tee-hee, zese are my pesst chokess, all epic-glottiss, you cood ssay!)--vass performing vhut vee call in medicine ein 'autotracheotomy.' Ass you can ssee, he missus zuh sroat, und inssted punckchuhrs hiss left chick. Now all zat happens iss vhen he breazs, he vhistles like a liddle faun viss a pan floot!"



"And then the alien plant thingy says, 'Feed me, Seymour!'"




Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Oh, Birthday Brother!



My Jo turned 5 today!!!



I can hardly stand that he is not a wee, fluffy-headed bundle of heaven any more. I miss those days, but look forward each day to witnessing his joy for life. His excitement and love make my day, every day!



Even though he speaks the truth without guile ("Mommy, I like your chubby!"), he also often expresses his love to me and plants a big kiss on my cheek.



He is 5 going on 10, and the large gap between him and "the brothers" is not always enjoyable, but I would never have missed the opportunity to be his mommy and witness to the stages and phases he is going through, and seen the love his older brothers have for him.



Happy Birthday, my Jo! Thanks for another reason to celebrate!

Friday, April 4, 2008

Armless, or better, Armful, or better, Signs that it's time to head back to the gym for toning exercises

Weekly cute: perhaps as part of his oedipal fixation, or maybe as a compensation for his refusal to nurse properly as an infant, Jonah has developed a tactile fetish for what he calls "chubby": "Dad, I love your chubby," he'll say, while patting my, ahem, svelte and rock-hard abdomen.

But as I said, he is an oedipal soul at present, so this fetish has as its apex the squeezing of Wendy's upper arm. The other day, by her account (and I should tell you she has instructed me to share this story), Jonah was in the middle of his squeeze fest when he made this comment:

"Mom, I love your arms. They're just like play dough."

Ay caramba.


We should also say that our other two kids are cute, it's just that they rarely do anything expressly cute, since they are of course manly men. But, we did get a few calls last weekend from girls calling Christopher to inform him that some girl named Alex S likes him.

Christopher's response: turn several shades of red, stammer, and hang up. Also, avoid the phone for the next two days, but never be very far away when it was answered, and without exception ask the respondent who, what, and what else.


Report cards are in (well, Riley's is. Christopher "never got [his]"). Uh-huh. Anyway, Riley is at year level or better in all but two of his subjects, to which he is a newcomer, and his Arabic teach anticipates him being at year level by year's end: in Spanish, where the expectations are higher, he'll almost be there. We may have an heir-apparent.

Peace out.

April Fool

So on the morning of April 1st, all the boys discovered what looked like giant flies or rat droppings in the mouths of their tubes of toothpaste. And thus, disgustingly, began the month of April.

Turns out they were raisins, not some horrifying manufacturer's defect. To quote Christopher, "Ach. I brushed my teeth with raisin juice."

Had Jon not been running late, he would have noticed that the cereal bags had been switched in all the boxes, so that eaters expecting chocolate-flavoured Wheetos were instead favoured with something resembling twigs and bark fragments. Nummy.

As it was, it wasn't until the next morning that he discovered that the milk had gone off . . . pink. Christopher's little addition, apparently. Oy veh!

What happened at your places last week? Anything funny?


Shout-outs:

all: Riley thanks you. He really is coming along with the ghee-tar.

kr: will call you tonight. We're interested, price being right.

barnwellians: good times. Watch this space: maybe we'll get operatic sometime just for you.

ec: it would never work between us.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Momma's Boy

Jonah is full-on Oedipal. We've taken to calling him "Oed" (Ed) for short.



Alright, so he hasn't tried to off Jon, yet, and as long as Wendy's not in the room, they get along pretty well. But he is a momma's boy. But then, considering his momma, we can't really blame him.

And it helps that he's an equal-opportunity mb:

Friday, March 21, 2008

Isn't it Easter?

Okay, I (Wendy) am back and confused...
This morning as we were speeding down the road, out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a big sign in a flower shop window that said "Happy Mothers Day". I thought to myself, "Wow. They're on the ball." (Seeing as Easter is not observed by most people here, Mothers day would be the next... holiday?)
Then I was in the grocery store and there was a huge display with bouquets of roses and a banner that said "Happy Mothers Day" right as you walk in.
As I worked my way through the store I noticed a special display of Arabic treats and a sign all in Arabic. I had never seen these treats for sale there before so, figured since they are celebrating Mohammed's birthday (yesterday) it must have been brought in special for that event. Which by the way is observed as a day off for some.
Then I noticed that Christmas tunes were playing over the speaker. What the?
As I was leaving I noticed in the store beside the grocery store a (few) Easter items.
So I ask... which holiday do I celebrate? What a party!
Speaking of party, my parents came for a visit.! A much anticipated visit. They swung through on their way out of Africa, where my father has a humanitarian project he oversees.
We showed them around our town and the kids school, introduced them to Maneesh (which they liked), even had Tabouleh, Hummus, Fatoosh, and Uhmwahlee. Took a couple of road trips. One to Abu Dhabi. Saw The Palace, rode in a water taxi on the Persian Gulf, laughed at camels, over-ate at Fuddruckers, and saw the amazing Sheikh Zayad Grand Mosque. Where my mom and I donned Abayas.
They were impressed by our beautiful pool, which we had to ourselves in the a.m. And witnessed the attention a blonde, blue eyed, small westerner got... Jonah gets a lot of attention AND treats from the Arabs. A box of cookies, 2 bags of chips, several hair ruffles, and the occasional kiss. Riley and Christopher are chopped liver I guess.
In Dubai, we drove as far as we could on the Palm (man made island in the shape of a palm tree), drove around the construction at the bottom of the Burj (tallest building in the world which will always be under construction in case any one dares to build a higher one then they will be able to go higher and higher and so on), walked around Mall of the Emirates (where the indoor ski hill is), had dinner with the Stewarts (wonderful friends from Red Deer), where we left them tearfully and they stayed until they caught their flight early the next morning. It was sooo very wonderful to have them to ourselves and we felt the void when they were gone. Jonah was the most disappointed to say goodbye (no one to listen to his incessant chattering an more). The next morning I asked him what he liked about having Grandma and Grandpa here and he replied.."they are happy and fun" That sums them up to the tee! What a blessing to have great relatives!
Over and Out to Lunch, Wendy
P.S. I will have Jon post some pictures later.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Number Three turns Four

Birthday boy (yes, 5 weeks ago--we're doing our best). Ay caramba. Kid puts the kosher in precocious. Alright, that doesn't work here. He puts the halal in halitosis. No, that doesn't work either. Let's just say he puts the "Holy crap!" in our lives in general.



So his birthday requests--in the absence of friends his age--were simple: he wanted Cheese Muneesh (Geez Louise, we calls it: folded naan bread with melted cheese, melted cheese curds, and cream cheese--excellent for weight loss: kidney stones, anyone?) and chocolate milk for lunch. Cheesy kid.





Our South African fan club--well, Jonah's fan club, anyway--was over-generous, as always. When we drop the eldest off to pick up our second, we always have to roll down Jonah's window so he can say hi to Charlie, the Papillon (the one with the snout).



And later he opened his presents from us: this may well be the last glimpse we get of little baby Jo-Jo. Notice that he thinks he has to be facing the camera at all times. We don't know where he gets this stuff.



"It's in a bag!"

Yes, Boboji, it's in a bag, like everything else around here.

And this was his second request: a quad run at the mall next to our complex. He's anxious to show off his mad skeelz to Grandpa Knievel in two weeks.



We have edited, for the sake of the grandmothers twain, the fiery crash stage left. The scars are not permanent. And you should have seen the other guy.

Weekly Cute: together with “the brothers,” Jonah has discovered Weird Al, and our lives will never be the same. Cute, but also obnoxious: Jonah now suspects very vocally that we think he’s “white and nerdy,” and is trying very hard not to be “a Acadian idiot.”

We are also treated to strange and new renditions of “O Candida” on a regular basis. And he very loudly proclaimed that the chandelier above our table at the restaurant the other night was “church lights,” and that he hates crying babies, especially girl ones. J and J enjoy more and more sophisticated conversations, much to Wendy's delight and astonishment. Like we said: precious in precocious, with occasional bouts of Calvinism (and we don't mean the fatalist religious reformer: we mean the kid with the pet tiger named for the Restoration philosopher).

In other cute, Riley no longer looks away during kissing scenes on movies. And Christopher continues on his path to ladykillerhood, but is serendipitously clueless about it, which as I understand it is the key to ladykillerness to begin with.

Oh, and Christopher also had a birthday: Wii bowling tournament with a few good friends, representing South Africa, Canada, India, and, well, Canada (10 points to the first person to spot the Indian). He's done a smashing job of picking friends thus far. We're waiting for the other shoe to drop.



Eleven years old. Oy veh!

(Ahem. Masha'allah.)

Friday, November 16, 2007

Wendys' Say.

Hello,
it's just me and the kids tonight. Jon is away in Bahrain this weekend. We've had fun staying up late, making waffles in the a.m. and trying to catch up on conference. It took all day to watch 1 session because downloading it was VERY slow. Short spurts of it kinda worked out good though.
Sorry to all you enduring wicked November weather at home. It is like summer here and we are enjoying it. Todays' high was 32. With a light breeze. I can hardly anticipate Christmas though cause it sure doesn't feel like it. Though we have seen Christmas trees in the stores and heard"What Child Is This" chiming in the back ground.
I met a lady at the grocery store this week, rather shocked me. She was covered in her abia and as she passed me said "hello.." I thought she'd mistaken me for someone else. -You have to understand they do not speak unless they are among their own and especially not out loud. She breezed past me and continued..."boy you can find all the candy you want but not what you need..." We were the only ones in the isle. My jaw about hit the floor. The comment was very true. So I ventured to ask her a question about bulgar. She sashied (SP?) over to the bulk section bidding me to follow. She laughed and said "the prices have raised but the incomes do not match" Shocked again. She pointed out what I needed. Later I ran into her again and she asked me about the promotion fish Barracuda. Can't say I've ever had it. She muttered something happily and even cursed a bit. Come to find out she is from Florida. I am still laughing about how out of the usual it was. And rather comforting. The abias' can be intimidating but the few that I have locked eyes with have had a warm and friendliness about them. But never say a word.
I will stop so as not to embarrass my husband any more with my spelling and grammar. I am well and actually really enjoying it here. It has been great for our family. I have gained insights that I am afraid I might have missed or at least have been slower to catch if we hadn't come.
The kids are busy with exams. Rugby in Abu Dhabi tomorrow. We will be going an American Thanksgiving there on Thursday and anticipating a trip to Oman the beginning of next month. Fun times!
-Wendy

Friday, November 9, 2007

Kids' Turn" Q&A continued

Next time I'll post a video of the cutest of the kids on a variety of issues. Tried tonight, but blogspot infarcted (which answers the question "who infarcted?"). Wasn't me. Sorry.


And now for a word from the brothers, who are still awake.

Gramma P asks: Boys, have you tried any new foods? If so, what do like and what not?

C: I tried "cheese nuiche" (which of course we now call "cheese louise"), which is a thick Arabian bread with nice soft cheese in the middle and all over the outside. It's really good.

R: Uh, yeah. We had South African bread at our friends' house. Tasted like inside-out french toast. It was very good.


Who are your friends? where do they come from in South Africa?


C&R: Can't name them because we don't have their permission, but they are from Praetoria, and have lived in Russia before this. The parents are from Port Elizabeth. Down the English! Up the Boers!

We also have friends from the US, Canada, Scotland, Ireland, England, Holland, New Zealand, and India.

What is your favourite new experience?

C: Water-colors. Our adopted South African aunt gave me a set last week.

R: Rugby.

What are you learning in school that is different than in Canada?

C: History and geography.

R: The sciences are separated even in "years" 7-9. That's fun. Math is called "maths.

And from earth mother:

Riley: who've you got a crush on?

Nobody.

What is church like for you?

Different. There are only 25 or so of us every Friday, and I'm the only youth. So I attend the adult class.

What activities do the young men do?

Don't know. They are all in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, but I plan on doing some Saturday activities with them.

Is there a scouting program?

Yes, but we haven't found them yet. Not church-related.

Chrispy: What's your favourite foreign food?

Bovril: a South African sausage that you eat like a hot dog. It's longer, and kinda looks nasty, but it's way tastier.

Do you guys have a cafeteria at school?

No. But they're planning one.

Jojo: . . . is in bed. In brief, Savannah, he needs to go to school, for all our sakes (especially Wendy's).

As for hot chocolate and the seventies, double-click on that picture to blow it up, turn it on its axis by 90 degrees, and then report back.



Mom's turn: Earth mother asks W about her social life and the public perception of the pasty white folk. Here is her response:

All the women I've met (and some of them are the breadwinners) have been very friendly. I have made friends with a couple of the Abu Dhabi women, both firecrackers for unbloggable reasons. I have also made friends with the boys' friends' mother, Sally, whom I admire for her courage and realism and charity. They came over for a Wii night last week and we had a blast. There are several women's clubs in town, and I have met a few of the Canadian women, who have invited me to join them. Other encounters have also been positive. But everyone's very busy here, so it's a slow integration.

Public perception: well, that depends. Older women and men tend to look down their noses, no matter how modestly I'm dressed. Younger and immigrant men ogle, so I just don't make eye contact. But younger women, even those in full veil, have invariably been friendly. They think we're odd, of course: I was driving home from getting my license, and people gave us funny looks because Jon was in the passenger's seat.

Mostly I just drag my sometimes sexy husband/chauffeur out to buy towels and pumpkin filling. He loves it. We haven't been to Ikea in four weeks. Program complete.

Casanostra a' la Greengrass

At long last, in a stunning 1 min 11 sec shot, a tour of our home. It's dark outside, and the lights are all off in the bathrooms, and I didn't show you the back "yard," but you'll get the general. Remember that the camera adds back the 10 pounds I've lost, and the angle doesn't help. No comments about the cheeks.



So that's that. New topic:

Service with a Smile

The underlings (and I'm one) around here are generally very assiduous. Yes, sometimes they are motivated by the desire for a tip, but in general they are simply conscientious. Examples: we had our first oil change this week, at a chain of gas stations called "Adnoc." The bays are spotless, as is the equipment. There is zero grease transfer, and they blow the dust out the engine and clean up any spilled oil off the engine block before they close the trunk. Always polite, of course--"Yes sir!" or "81 dirhams, please." not "Hey man. That'll be 50 bucks."--and always deferential.

Car washes are available everywhere, but when they say car wash they mean the whole enchilada. You go through the wash itself (at Adnoc), which is a scientifically calibrated precision deal, and then you drive over to a vacuum bay, where up to 6 men in impeccable uniforms descend upon the vehicle like a swarm of bees, only without the buzzing and the stinging, but with buffing cloths, air hoses, special cleaning solutions, and vacuum nozzles and give it the once over outside . . . and in. They actually polish inside the windows and the dash, etc. They insist on this. Won't take no for an answer. Then they'll check tire pressure and send you along all for under $10.

You can also get your car washed while you shop--valet style, if you're trusting, or via portable wash station: a "trolley" loaded with soapy water, rinse water, and towels. This makes homeless twenty-somethings with beards spitting on your windshield look even more pathetic than it is (though of course I sympathize). And, again, withe the uniforms and consistently cheery dispositions.

At grocery stores, especially the smaller ones, you should never expect to bag, haul, or load your own groceries. Somebody inevitably shows up who's willing to carry them halfway to Dubai, if that's where you parked. Do they expect a tip? No. Would they like one? Not always, actually. There have been times when I've perceived that they didn't want one, thank you very much: a human dignity thing. But they are always very gracious and grateful if you offer. Good folk all around.

News

Wendy is now a legal driver. Yikes. Actually, I insisted she drive home from the dmv (in the mrv) and she accepted gamely without too much cajoling. She's a Cahoon, after all: dive in first, get instructions later. Did just fine. Will wander out in gradually wider circles and at gradually more manic times of the day in the future. She is woman, hear her roar.

Boys had their first actual rugby games last Saturday: two-day tournament, but they have boycotted Sabbath games and haven't looked back. Anyway, Riley got a couple of minutes on the field (it was "sevens," meaning teams of seven playing for seven minutes) despite the fact that his team was mis-managed, poorly coached, and stacked with newcomers at the last minute. Christopher played the whole game for his team and finally got into it. At one point he was bottom man in a massive ruck--every bit as rough as it sounds, named as it is for the clawing movement of cleated feet. Kids were stepping on his head and kneeling on his solar plexus, but he hopped right up and got back in the game. I was very proud.

I'm finally almost caught up at work sort of. No more all-nighters or wake-up juice. Getting too old for this.

Q&A

We finally have some good questions. From my mater familias, the following:

Is your night-time schedule the same as always, or has that changed?

Good q. This is a night-time culture, like the Spanish: siesta mid-afternoon, out late shopping. During the summer months and into Ramadan, things are often open later than midnight, with government office open until 9 or 10, depending. We hear kids out in the complex after 11, but we generally still get the chilluns off to sleep by 10. It doesn't always happen, but we're trying to maintain some modicum of reasonableness.

What is the regular food shopping like, and are you having or choosing to change the way you eat?

I think we talked about groceries once, but you can generally find what you need, though not always what you want. This is a sugar-crazy culture (and it shows in the kids' behavior), so sugary cereals and snacks are cheap and ubiquitous. Ground beef is minced, and of course pork must be hunted out like the dog it is. So we don't bother. Breads are tasty, but all refined. So we try to be careful: lots of fruit and veggies, protein-rich entrees, and keeping a lid on eating out. But it ain't easy. Exercise is mandatory.

Does the weather change things for you? does it get dark early enough, etc?


Being almost equatorial means that daylight hours do change with the seasons. Right now we get sunrise at around 6:30 a.m. and sunset at shortly after 6:00. We're down to a chilly 31 degrees right now during the day, and a positively frigid 23 overnight. It will get cool, apparently, but, I mean, c'mon.

Do you know how you're handling Christmas this year? What will you do and not do?


No. But Wendy has some ideas: ski trip in Dubai, or maybe if we can find a cheap overseas flight to Indonesia or Singapore, we'll give that a go. I'm actually working Christmas day, so that's a bummer. But the kids are off for a bit around Christmas, so we'll do something. As for Christmas trappings, apparently that happens here, and the Emiratis kinda get into it. We were in a grocery store last night and I kept hearing "What Child is This?" Another time the muslim grocery clerk was whistling "Jingle Bells." So that's weird. But hey: who doesn't love a good party? or a reason to shop?


And these from "granola," who can only be Savannah, considering that her children are the only non-immunized hippie kids we know:

[W]ould our unimmunized [sic] kids be ok cruising the exotic aisles of ikea with you?

Do you mean while you and Adam go off on an Omani holiday? Or were you planning to be at Ikea with us? Cuz if it's the first . . . . Actually, I don't know. Check with your local health authority and the Foreign Affairs travel office. Then report back. Other inquiring hippies want to know.

More above: just realized the other questions are for the kids.

Next time: whatever.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Kids' Turn: Q&A



(Proof that Riley does his homework . . . in my office. No good rickum snarum . . . .)

Ashley asked, "Which do you prefer, football or rugby?"

"I have to say football. One thing that's better about rugby, though, is that it's a faster game. But football's rougher, and I liked that more." (Kid's got aggression issues.)



Grandma Penny asked, "Ruggers is such a British word. Will you be speaking with British accents the next time I see you?"

"Noe, nawt at awl. Soe vehry sawry." Actually, they've friends from all over the globe, but they hang with the South Africans. Riley has started saying "Yaw" for "Yes."



And we've run out of questions. So Jonah wants to say, "Hi, Matthew (Smith, I think)! I love the Rugby Club! I love you, grammas and grampas!"


More questions, please. As things become normal for us, it's hard to imagine what you'd want to hear about. But next week the kids will report on Halloween in the UAEen.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Kids' Turn: Ruggers



The boys started rugby this last week. Their introduction involved a special invitation to watch the South Africa/Fiji game at the Al Ain Rugby Club last Sunday, and then attending their first practice on Tuesday. They've both picked it up very quickly. Here are their comments on what's cool about rugby.

Riley: Tackling's cool: sometimes you fight the tackle to gain ground, and sometimes you have to take a dive by pushing sideways backwards into the tackle so you can "present the ball" to your teammates behind. One teammate will push off the tackler while trying heroically not to step on your head, and another guy picks up the presented ball, rounds the pileup, and presses forward.

Christopher: I like the shape of the ball, and I like to tackle. Some of the hits are harder than in "American football," and you have no pads. A goal is called a "try," and it's worth 5 points. That's cool, too.

Jonah: is again in bed. He's too young for formal practice, but he wishes he could play with "the brothers," so they teach him what they learn, like Riley did with football. Actually, they played a bit during our trip to the rugby club, and Jonah got quite a bit of attention when he was spotted hunching on the line of scrimmage ready to explode into action. Kid needs an outlet.

Special request: for next week's post, we'd like to hear from you. What are some of the questions you have? Can we answer them? We'll try. But please ask good, succinct, specific questions: not "What's life like in the UAE?" but "Are bidets or toilet paper the hygienic accoutrement of choice?" We look forward to hearing from you, and will answer as many questions as we can. If we don;t answer yours, it's either because it was dumb or we just don't love you as much as we love the others.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Kids' Turn:"Strange days are these (Mama)/Strange days indeed"




This week's question: "What's the strangest thing about living here?"

Jonah (who is sleeping soundly, a'hamd'Allah, but answered the question earlier, sort of): the way people dress.

But he hasn't said anything about this before now, so that is a surprise to us.

Chrispy: The swears . . . and the call to prayer.

I don't think he means that he swears at the call to prayer. And no, I haven't taken to swearing . . . at least not any more than I used to. He means that it's strange to hear kids swear at school, and he's trying very hard not to pick up the habit. In fact, swearing is a kind of call to prayer for him, he tells me: he says a little prayer in his heart whenever he almost swears. Dang good kid. Has a good mom.

Rilo: How you're not supposed to display affection publicly, but all the men touch noses and hold hands. What's up with that?

Ah, yes: homosociality. There are limits to PDoAs between the genders (though we have seen several younger couples, in full Arab dress, holding hands--a next gen thing, I think)--as in no overt interaction before marriage or if not related, but the men are very affectionate with each other. In Italy, men would walk arm-in-arm, and I remember all the homophobes in my mission wigging out over this. Well, this makes that fairly pallid. But I am assured it is simply an expression of friendship, not the manifestation of some latent same-sex attraction, or an outlet for repressed heterosexual desire. After all, there are no gays (for very long) in Iran, so . . . .

No, it is musketeery at its heart. Touching noses, too, which must be terribly greasy, but makes as much sense as the whole cheek thing (obligatory 3 passes--anymore than that and you've broken their version of men's room etiquette. But touching noses happens slowly and carefully.

Mom's minute: segregated waiting rooms. Seriously. We went to the hospital the other day (a glorified clinic) and Jon had to wait in one room and I had to wait in the other. Sucky thing is his had newspapers and a tv; mine had nothing, and it smelled like pee. Most of the people are very understanding that westerners don't dig this arrangement, and the security guard kept offering me papers to read.

Oh, and there're security guards--most of them useless--everywhere! Security guards have security guards!

My ha'pence: It's amazing how after only 6 weeks 40 C doesn't feel hot. We're in trouble if we ever have to go somewhere wintry again. Also, further to Wendy's observation: I got permission from said guard to sit with her in the women's waiting room, and just before we were called back (for the third time), a muslim woman walked in and seemed quite distressed that I was there--like gasping and fretting and behaving like she was in anaphylactic shock. So I offered to leave the room and she said "La, la," which means "No, no," not "I'm humming contentedly to myself because you are such a hot, western god of a man." She gestured for me to remain seated, I think, so I did. And she immediately launched into a new round of cataclysmic sighs and paroxysms.

In other words, in addition to being ware of road surprises, one must always understand that overtly disappointing or confronting people is taboo, so body language and onomatopoeia are more reliable than actual language in deciphering the message. In other other words, if a muslim woman says it is okay for you to remain where you are, but is doing the funky chicken while imitating a stroke patient experiencing myocardial infarction and an aneurism while suffering a severe asthma attack and insulin shock, well, she probably doesn't really mean it. Words to the wise. But don't worry about it. You can stay where you are. No, really. (Infidel.)

Friday, September 21, 2007

Kids' turn: School's a real pain in the AAESS





Q. How's school? What's your favourite subject? Meet any cute girls? Made any great new friends?

Christopher: Great besides the Arabic teacher. 2. No, I haven't met any girls. 3. Yes. I met three new friends named Jesse, Sam and Ashley who's a boy not a girl. Played ruggers last week. Believe it or not, this Canadian kid was accused of unnecessary roughness. I din't know two things: a) if you get tackled and then accidentally step on the kid's crotch, people get upset; b) grabbing heads is not allowed. Panzies.

Parents' note: Ashley is a sweet kid. From India. Very polite. We hope some of that rubs off . . . .

Jonah: (While we wait for Riley.) I do school with my mom while the brothers are at their school. We draw, print, play, and swim. We are working on numbers and letters, including letter-sounds. My letters are getting pretty good, and I can recognize most of them no problem. I can also tell the difference between English and Arabic street signs, and sometimes I read things. Here is the alphabet:

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz

Also, today I ripped half of my toenail off throwing one of my patented tantrums. It happened right before church. Ouch.

Riley: School's great. Our mean history teacher quit after a week. I could do without art. Other than that, it's all good. All of my teachers are Brits (except the Arabic teacher), and they say some funny things, like "one, two, free" and "rubbish" and "bee-ography." Favourite subject is lunch break. Kidding. It's science. We've done some cool things, like playing with fire, melting metals at high temps, and putting potassium in water. Girls: plead the fifth. Friends: Talbot Turner from Sihth Ihfricuh, Marvin from Germany (das ist gut!), Jack from Britain, Micah from parts unknown, and Jacob from Holland. Met a few Canucks, too.

Mom's two bits: School's great. I've enjoyed meeting Christopher's friend and hearing stories about their experiences. I think the international flavour of the school is really great for our kids. Jonah and I watch Little Einstein. We've learned about "adagio" and "allegro" and some of the famous composers. Jonah has shown an interest in the piano lately. Riley is signed up for guitar lessons, and Christopher for piano lessons at the school. I'm very happy that they can continue with their musical training. We're still hoping they pick up British accents.

In other news, after hearing about snow in Alberta, I'm REAL glad we're here.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Kids' Turn

Posed two questions to each of the kids: 1) What has been the most difficult adjustment? 2) What's the coolest thing about being here?

Riley
1) "Missing home." Riley has some pretty great friends in Raymond. But he's making more now that school has started.
2) "The accents." (See Jonah 2 below)



Christopher
1) Ditto. "The hardest thing was leaving my friends and family in Canada."
2) "We have the church piano at our house, and I've learned how to play some cool hymns."

Jonah
1) "The floor." We had to sleep on thin mattresses while we waited for our beds to arrive.
2) "Roundabouts" (traffic circles). Pronounced by the Indian cabbies "rownd-uh-bote." They're everywhere. Hence the name of our blog.