Month: August 2016

The third week

This week passed quickly, relatively speaking. I guess when you sleep in until 10 or 11am there’s not a lot of time left in each day. We have blackout shades in all the bedrooms and they work a little too well. Poor Nanny gets up at whatever time and cleans the downstairs and then waits for us all to wake up so she can straighten up our bedrooms. (*** Josh is not on the lazy family summer schedule. He gets up and out around 6am or something like that. I’m not sure since I’m always sound asleep.) Not like there’s a lot for her to do these days. It’s pretty empty in here aside from a few pieces of furniture in each room. No explosion of toys and clothes to manage yet.

We are hitting our stride in these days of limbo. Wake up, eat brunch, watch Olympics — we have amazing coverage, and hang out inside the house (because it’s blistering outside) until Josh gets home. Then Josh and I go to the gym together, come home, eat dinner and more Olympics until we make the kids go to bed sometime before 11pm.

Add in some yelling to get off the computers, and some yelling to go to bed, and a million requests for junk food snacks from the mini-mart/cold store that is in our compound and that about sums up our days.

Thank God for IKEA. It’s been my only real entertainment outside of the Olympics. Yes, it’s money spent, but killing several hours trying out different pieces of furniture and picking up a few things for the house is priceless. We’ve been 3 times already. The key to success is only taking one child along instead of all 4. 
The face painting in the IKEA photo is because we went to a Lebanese restaurant for lunch last weekend and the sweet Filipina face painting lady was happy to decorate Camille. She tried to keep it on her body as long as possible.
Solving the problem of my kitchen with no counterspace. Thanks IKEA! Now when Nanny wants to help me cook I shouldn’t feel like we’re fighting over the same few inches of cutting board. I’m hoping that it makes it easier for me to have someone else in the kitchen. 

What I’d like her to do all day

versus what she actually does. 
(Pringles and lollipop from our neighborhood cold store that she bought with her Tooth Fairy money)

This is our Abu Dhabi. The walk around the corner to our mall and grocery store. So thankful that we can walk to resupply our perpetually empty refrigerator or I really would go crazy. 
Josh and I drive past the Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque on our way to work out every day. 
It is a huge, gorgeous building that is even more impressive in person. It reminds me of the Mormon Temple in Oakland, our own Disneyland castle (just bigger). 

Yesterday we went for our first set of meetings at the kids’ new school. Camille was in tears and didn’t want to go (even though the appointments were just for the boys) and we couldn’t figure out why (except that she always cries about new things). We finally understood when she whispered 10 minutes into the tour, “There aren’t any snakes here.” Poor girl thought because the school mascot is a sand viper that there’d be snakes and pictures of snakes all over the place and her snake phobia was on high alert. 
One of the very nice counselors gave her a coloring sheet which kept her occupied the rest of the morning while we talked about class schedules, sports and high school senior stuff. Only 10 days until Calvin starts his last year of High School. 

My car supposedly left Bahrain yesterday and should be here in a few days. That doesn’t mean that I’ll get it in a few days, but at least we’re one step closer.

A thin line between peace and apathy

Let me start by saying that I’m feeling better than I was at the end of last week, but I know I still have ups and downs ahead of me. Moving is hard. I forgot how hard it was last time, and the time before that . . . really, every time. These international moves are making our cross country moves feel like a piece of cake. Or maybe because I was younger then and had more energy/more flexibility and my sense of adventure hadn’t been satisfied yet so it felt more tolerable. Or I’m just remembering it better than it actually was.

I remember one time I called my dad crying when we arrived in Fort Sill, Oklahoma. He told me to always keep my expectations low and I burst into tears all over again because I had, and it was even worse than that (a toll road to nowhere ending in pawn shops and strip joints was not an awesome introduction, but we grew to love it anyway).

I’ve always said I’d be willing to move wherever the job takes us and wherever Josh wants to go, but I’m not so sure about that these days. That shack in Iraq isn’t looking so appealing right now and I’m not feeling too resilient. The way to survive a life that I can’t control is to say that I’ll be OK with whatever happens. No need to get frustrated or mad because “God is in control.” Except that same inshallah attitude can easily slip into, “why bother getting out of bed? Nothing I do makes a difference anyway . . .”

I’m trying to make the days matter, but we are still in limbo. I’m so thankful that we didn’t have to go house hunting, but there have been some drawbacks to moving right into our home here. First off, I don’t have a purpose. When we arrived in Bahrain Josh started working right away, and my job was to find our house. We landed and I had a task to accomplish. It was a frustrating task, and it wasn’t easy, but it was a goal to achieve — something to work toward.

The other difference is that when you arrive and land in a hotel, you don’t expect to be able to get settled right away. It’s still part of the transition. Here I expected to move into our house and start operating as normal. But nothing is normal. I don’t have my stuff and I have loaner kitchen equipment so when I go to cook I’m trying to slice onions with a very dull knife on a flimsy cutting board and then I realize that I only have salt and pepper in the cupboard because I forgot to buy any seasoning or garlic at the store and where is my tzatziki seasoning that makes everything taste magical?

Over the weekend we bought a decent cutting board and a sharp knife (the pains of military moves — we always end up buying things we already own while waiting for our shipment to arrive) and I’m working on restocking my pantry so I can go back to cooking via inspiration from my cupboards. FYI, cornmeal is nowhere to be found and “corn flour” is actually corn starch. Thankful for Amazon to fill in the gaps. Baby steps.

shadow

It’s a good thing that our house is big because there have been a lot of people in it this week. If I didn’t have spaces to escape to I might start feeling claustrophobic. Starting with an endless stream of maintenance workers, trailing up and down the stairs to the roof and back. They are finally installing the new compressor today so my AC will work downstairs. The crew has been here all morning and will be back again after lunch. Please be done already and go away.

The dog has become glued to my side once again. He has overcome his fear of the unknown new house and parks himself at my feet, at the foot of my bed, on the bed, and nose to knee as I walk up the stairs. Where I go, he goes. I should have named him Ruth. I had a few days of freedom as he was scared to come upstairs and slept with the kids instead of in my room, but now he’s back to opening all the doors in the house and tracking me down like he’s Prince Charming and I’m the maiden in distress. I’ve tried locking him out, but the wifi in my bedroom doesn’t work through the closed door and my desire to fall asleep to the sweet sounds of Judge Judy in my ear trumps my distaste of the dog in my bed. At least he has learned to wait until I fall asleep to gently climb up on the bed and get as close to me as possible without waking me up. 
The kids are here 24/7. I’m happy they aren’t in school and I’m happy to have them around, but it drives me crazy to see them on electronics all day and all night long. But what else do I have to offer them? 2 of them have bikes (cheapies that we bought at a Walmart-esque store), but a few laps around the compound and they are beet red and dripping with sweat. I tell them to take the dog for a walk, but he’s been walked so many times that he keeps trying to make a break for home (and back to his first love). I suggested the pool today, but they pointed out that it’s brown outside — a sandy, dusty haze has settled on us. It’s probably not great to be breathing all that in when 3 of the 4 have nasty colds already. They have some books, but heaven forbid they actually read for fun. Normally, I’d assign them cleaning jobs around the house, but because we have hired live-in house help, there’s nothing left to do. And when I tell them to do things, she sweeps in and does as much of it as possible herself (which I understand, because it’s her job, but . . . ) 
taking their bikes to the grocery store
Just because you started riding a bike two days ago, does not mean I’m going to buy you Tour jerseys
It’s been a week since Nanny (not her name) moved in and she is quiet, unobtrusive and a great cleaner/help, but it does feel a bit like I’m becoming irrelevant in my own house. We are in a special situation because she’s new to the country and new to the housemaid thing and she has a sister who lives in the neighborhood and is overseeing her work. She wants her to do everything so that she has the proper training for the future when she may work for someone who will expect her to do everything. But it makes me feel a bit ridiculous to have someone hovering and wanting to help with whatever I’m cooking every time I’m in the kitchen or washing my knife after I cut an apple. 
We went to the grocery store together and Nanny’s sister made her push the cart for me and when we finished and had bagged all the groceries I started handing some of the bags to the boys to help carry as we walked home. The sister took all the bags and said, “No madame, we will carry.” No matter how much I protested that I could carry at least one bag, it wasn’t happening. So to anyone walking or driving by, I looked like the typical expat — white woman strolling along, unencumbered, with two black women following behind, loaded down like pack mules. I don’t even know what to do with that image. I was dying inside. 
So yeah, that’s my life these days. Sit around my too cold house supervising maintenance workers and reading FB and world news while the dog watches over me and my staff of servants does all the work around the house. Then Josh comes home and we go to the gym and work out together for an hour which is terrible (the working out part, not the together part) and then go home, eat dinner and then yell at the kids to go to bed for the next 2 hours because they aren’t tired because all they did was sit around all day with their faces in screens. 

The Lebanese restaurant near our house — Carter thinks we need to make this a weekly trip. 

The fresh bread and all the mezze were the best!

Where we are when we aren’t at home — our compound is only a few hundred yards away. Restaurants, grocery store, Starbucks and Cold Stone, a little bit of everything. It’s how I’m surviving. 

The last supper

It was a week of lasts: last time at church, last swim at the British Club, last time on base, last breakfast in the hotel. . . everywhere we turned we were faced with another ending. 
Except the heat — the heat is never ending.

Last visit to the British Club to swim and have dinner. Yes, there’s a British Club in AD, but we can’t afford to be members. It’s crazy expensive. (The cost for one person is more than 3xs what we pay for our family membership here.)

One last time hanging out with Josie. They’ve been missing each other all week and sending messages to each other. 

Carter, giving me duckface with his post surgery puffy lip. 

Yes, she’s sad about leaving Bahrain

Friends stopped by our hotel for one last goodbye. They’ve been here a year longer than we have and Caleb and Kobe have been friends since we arrived and they were in the same class at school. This past year Camille and Talia have been kindergarten besties too. We will miss them. 

And then it was time for our final dinner. Josh and I have a favorite Japanese restaurant that we started going to about 6 months ago. On Saturday nights they have all you can eat sushi, sashimi, and other amazing Japanese dishes. The kids have been begging to go with us, but it’s not cheap. We decided that we would take them for Caleb’s birthday and to celebrate the end of a great 4 years.
They all love sushi. Sashimi is my favorite (and Josh’s), but the kids preferred their raw fish with rice and seaweed. Other favorites were the ginger beef, tempura prawns, kimchi beef, fried chicken with ginger sauce . . . I could list the entire menu. No bad choices. 
She ordered a coke on the sly and was so pleased when the waiter brought it to her. 
She also had to use the restroom at one point and I asked if she had to go right then because I didn’t want to try to get out from where I was sitting at the table. The hostess overheard and offered to take her for me. That is typical of staff here — they carry kids around the restaurant, give them special attention, and spoil them any chance they get. 

We laughed all night. 

They asked us if we were coming for a special occasion when we made our reservation (since we were bringing the kids this time) and when they found out it was Caleb’s birthday, they offered to bring him a cake — amazing chocolate mousse on top of dark chocolate cake. Everything else they make is top notch, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by how good it was. 
Caleb said his terrible birth day earlier in the week was fully redeemed by our dinner out. 

We are ready to start our next adventure together! 

Bye, bye Bahrain . . .