July 2012 – robinchartier

A little princess?

Birthday presents have been pouring in this week for our 2 year old. And from the contents of the packages, everyone thinks she wants to be a princess. They would be right.

This floral tutu with a matching headband.

The cutest satellite dish ever.

And Tinkerbell with her very own wings!

And dolly Tink — twinsies.

More flowery dresses — never mind the mess of cherry juice on her face.

She may be girly on the outside, but underneath her skirts, she’s ready for a brawl (wearing the boys’ boxer briefs).

She’s also a cheerleader, but not the kind with pom-poms. Watching the US Olympic swimming finals with her brothers, cheering on the Americans. She’s quite a nice mix of flowery and brutish. I think we’ll keep her.

Al Bandar

So far, Bahrain has been quite unattractive in the looks department (I won’t say “ugly,” but that’s what I’m thinking). I’m not going to say I don’t like it here, but sights like these aren’t going to win any awards in the beauty department.

The Shias are mad so they burn tires and graffiti all over their own neighborhoods. It totally reminds me of the Oakland (or LA) riots. If you’re angry that you’re being screwed over by the ruling powers, why are you jacking up where you live?! Ooh, I really showed them by scribbling profanities all over my house . . .

My understanding is that the ruling class is the Sunni minority and the majority of the country is made up of Shia. They are poor and underrepresented in the government. Their attempt at a revolution failed last year, but they continue to protest in the evenings and on the weekends.

All that to say that aside from our trip out to the sandbar, I haven’t seen anything in Bahrain to rival what we saw daily in Muscat. But now I have a place to escape: Al Bandar Resort. I didn’t want to go, because it was way down on some other part of the island, but it turns out that “way down there” was only 20 minutes away. I guess this island is smaller than it seems.

It costs about $12 for adults and $7.50 for kids, but it’s worth it to be able to eat and drink by the pool during daylight hours. There’s a huge pool that wraps around like one you’d see in Vegas with a swim up bar (though alcohol is banned everywhere on the island during the month of Ramadan). Only 3 more weeks and I can stop talking about Ramadan.

I keep saying the water here is so warm, like a bathtub . . . I can’t explain it properly. All I can say is the ocean water in Bahrain and the pool water at the resort have ruined me for anywhere else. Normal people would probably find it too warm — I have never met a pool that was too warm. These temperatures are my sweet spot.

She loves the water, but she’s still really cautious and insists on holding on to Daddy’s hand (or Mommy’s or Calvin’s) while swimming.

Beyond the pool is a private beach and lagoon that is fed from the (very warm) ocean. Maybe someday we’ll come down here and spend the night in one of the huts along the water.

It was a perfect afternoon and evening of swimming, eating dinner poolside, and playing.

The boys spent hours hunting for crabs

Fisherman’s pose

Herding a crab — trying not to get pinched

Success!

Milady, your chariot awaits!

I bought a stroller this week since Camille is always wanting to get up and down and that’s easier to do from a stroller than the Ergo. I’m still using the Ergo regularly, but in places like the mall or when we’re doing a lot of walking on base, the stroller lets her hop in and out.

On our trip to check out the new LuLu’s (Super-Walmart-esque store) she started riding like she was on a parade float, waving to everyone we passed in the store.

I don’t know what she’s going to do in life, but it will probably involve an audience. She has been the center of attention from the day she was born (for better or worse).

Ah, Lucy. We miss your samosas . . . (these are the brand of wrappers that she would fill with seasoned vegetables and then fry until they were hot and crispy). Lucy is home in India right now, enjoying vacation with her family. The boys have asked if we’re going to find another Lucy. There will never be another Lucy, but I will hire some household help eventually. I have to find the energy to interview people first . . . ugh.

Dueling banjos

Today marks four weeks that we’ve been in Bahrain. Three of the Fridays we attended church services at two different places. We haven’t settled on one yet.

I’m sure it’s theologically incorrect to talk about church hunting or church shopping, as that implies that it’s about us and what we like, versus choosing an appropriate place to worship God, but it feels like shopping or house hunting. Decisions, decisions.

To this pastor’s kid, church is supposed to feel like home, but it never does at first (naturally). So I’m left wondering,”Is this the one? I really hate the paint color (the way they take offering) and I was really hoping for a place with bigger bedrooms (different style of worship), but the kitchen (preaching) is perfect. Maybe the rest will grow on me?” As a result, going to church these days feels less like worship and more like nitpicking. In Oman, since the only choice at The Church was between traditional or family service, we just showed up and it was what it was. And just like a real family, you love most everything about them and ignore the few things that bug you because that’s what you do with family.

But here we have to (get to?) pick our family, which isn’t any easier than picking a place to live. I thought the place we went today might be a good fit, except for one problem: it has a split personality. I know this isn’t a fluke because it happened both times we attended. The service begins with stereotypical non-denominational praise music. A little Chris Tomlin, some David Crowder, some light drums to accompany the guitar . . . white people music. After 3 or 4 songs someone prays and the musicians and singers sit down. Then an entire new crew takes the stage. A gospel choir and director. I’m suddenly transported to Shiloh Christian Fellowship (a reference which will only be meaningful to my immediate family), complete with gospel sway and lots of “Amens!”

I get that they are probably trying to appeal to a wide variety of worshipers, but it feels so divided. I wouldn’t mind nearly as much if the same musicians/vocalists incorporated both types of songs into a single set (presents a blended, unified worship team) or did a one week on/one week off music rotation. What I’d most like to see though, is a church that picks a style and owns it. I don’t even care what style it is (as long as it’s not a cappella hymns where they sing all the verses — totally not my thing).

We’re still homeless and churchless, but getting closer to finding where we fit . . .

I've watched more movies this week

Than I have in the last 5 years. Of course, I’m writing this in the middle of “Judy Moody and the Not So Bummer Summer” so I don’t know if that actually counts as “watching.”

Carter (under protest) and Caleb are both going to VBS this week. Carter initially said, “I don’t need to make any new friends!” and refused to go the first day, but after being left home alone in the hotel room he decided VBS was a better alternative. He has been a good sport since then, but told me he hasn’t made any new friends. When I suggested he say, “Hi, I’m Carter. What do you like to do?” he rolled his eyes at me and said with an exasperated sigh, “Mom, nobody talks like that!” Fair enough.

On the other hand, my little friend-maker insists that I meet the moms of all his new friends and is planning sleepovers and other play dates faster than I can keep their names straight.

My two who are too young and too old for VBS have settled into a daily routine. After drop-off, we hike over to the air conditioned Exchange — a building that houses the food court, shops, a gym, movie theater, etc. We cool off with a cappuccino (I know, it seems counter intuitive, but there’s never a bad time for a cappuccino), juice, fruit or some other snack. Then we head to the movie theater.

The first movie of the day is either G or PG and since we have had the theater to ourselves, Camille can run laps, climb in and out of all the seats, or sit and watch the movie. It’s lovely. For 60 cents l get 20 minutes of silence as she downs a bucket of popcorn. Throw in a 25 cent bottle of water and it’s the cheapest and easiest 90 minutes of entertainment around.

So far we’ve seen: The Rookie, Hotel for Dogs, part of The Hunger Games, and the above mentioned Judy Moody. Sitting through a movie is much less painful when I don’t have to worry about keeping her quiet.

By the time the movie ends, we’re ready to walk over to the chapel to pick up the VBS boys. Then a lunch date with dad rounds out the morning and we head back to the hotel for my favorite part of the day: nap time!