Today we had to go out to the police station to officially change over the registration of the Jeep to us. Since you can only have one car registered per person and the Montero is registered to Josh, I had to go along to sign the paperwork. We weren’t sure if we needed to have the Jeep present and we can’t put the baby’s carseat in the Jeep, so we had to caravan. A regular traveling circus. Technically I guess we could put the baby in it, but there’s something that felt really wrong about trying to install her rearfacing when there’s no back of the car behind her or a roof over her head. And then of course, no sides either . . . now remind me why I let my boy children ride in this car? It’s practically a motorcycle with no helmet.
Anyway, so back to driving. I was following Josh and Caleb and had the rest of the kids with me. I didn’t actually know where we were going, just that we were headed toward the airport (about 15 minutes away) and getting off the freeway at that exit. After exiting, we get to this huge roundabout with three potential offshoots. Josh enters the roundabout, but before I can get behind him, several trucks get inbetween us. I tell the kids to keep their eye on the Jeep so I know which road to take, but we end up losing him. I’m good though, because I know he doesn’t take the first road, the second one has 3 cars heading uphill and he’s not one of them, so I take the third option. I can’t see his car because there’s a bend in the road, but where else would he go?
Just as we’re exiting the roundabout, Carter looks back and yells, “Mom! Dad went back the way we came from!” Good grief. Like I’m supposed to be able to figure that one out. No big deal, I’ll just make a U-turn . . . except we’re on a divided highway with no way to turn around, cross over or do anything but drive straight. For miles and miles. Josh calls (thank God for cell phones) and we speak sweetly to each other and agree that it’s wonderful that I’m driving the wrong direction and how much fun this all is. Except not.
Eventually (5 miles later), I get to another huge roundabout, circle all the way around and then drive all the way back. Then we meet up with Josh (who was parked on the side of the road waiting for us) and then finally get to the police station where we meet the guy who we’re buying the car from. I don’t like driving without directions, but there really isn’t a good way to give directions here: “Go to the third patch of sand that is next to the white building that is next to the 100 other white buildings and then look for driveway that is next to more sand.”
It almost got really ugly when they needed my passport and my Oman visa number and I didn’t have my passport (since we now have residence cards, I don’t carry it with me), but Josh was able to call the embassy and have someone look up the number and then he worked it out by speaking Arabic. Crisis averted.
Then because we were so close to the big mall out that way, we decided to head there for dinner and a little shopping. Carter rode in the back of the Jeep so that he could watch and make sure I didn’t get left behind. He turned himself completely around and wouldn’t take his eyes off my car the entire drive. He was right to be concerned since I didn’t know how to get to the mall either.
After a few hours and a great dinner at the Noodle House, we headed back to Muscat. As we were exiting the parking garage I made sure to stick close to the Jeep so I could follow Josh to the freeway. It’s a good thing I did because if I had been left on my own, my natural directional instinct would have sent me in the exact opposite direction of home. I’m glad at least one of us knows where we’re going.