Author: Robin Chartier

If you’re Facebook friends with me, you may have seen the other day when I posted that twice now the boys have had people ask if Micah was for sale when they were out walking him.

In case you missed it, the short version is that Calvin was walking the dog around the dirt lot by our house when a guy pulled up in a sedan and asked if Micah was for sale and offered 100BD for him. Calvin said no and kept walking, even when the guy kept asking. Then this past week, Carter was walking the dog in the same area and a guy in a van stopped, also wanting to buy the dog and when Carter told him “No,” persisted, “Why? Do you like him?”

Knowing what I know about here, it set off all of my mom alerts: First of all, our dog is not cute. He’s a scrawny houndish thing that wouldn’t win any awards for either beauty or obedience. Second, dogs are unclean — no “good” Muslim is going to have a dog in their house. Third, in this male-centric culture, trafficking and prostitution of young boys is much more prevalent than girls and is a problem in Bahrain in particular. It also pinged my radar because both times it happened when a boy was by himself around the corner from our house. It has never happened to me (like I said in a previous post, most people avoid me like the plague when I walk the dog) and it has never happened when they walk the dog in pairs (99.5% of the time).

But before I jumped to conclusions, I wanted to run it by some people who are local, who would know if there was something cultural that I was missing in the exchanges between these strangers and my boys. The answer came back today: “These are very bad men who are looking to kidnap boys.” Okay then . . . where is my ticket back to Muscat?

***I’m under no illusions that my kids are “safe” anywhere, but in general children are well regarded and safe in the Middle East. One of the things we have loved about our travels in the region is that everywhere we’ve been, people have loved our children, been friendly to them, and accepted them. I had heard rumors of child trafficking (boys) here, but it’s disgusting to see that is really is right here. It’s disgusting that it’s anywhere, but I think you know what I mean.

I’m thankful for the very clear warning that I was given and that I now have the information to make different choices in the future. I’m also able to have direct talks with the boys and give them further instructions on how to be alert and aware of their personal safety. And of course, prayers are always welcome.

I give up. I hate it here in this country full of bad drivers and %$@! pedophiles. Bahrain broke me. 

I’ve fallen asleep before 10 the past two nights and still needed a nap yesterday. :yawn: I can’t figure out why I’m so tired until I realize that as I’m rescuing a shoe from the dog’s mouth, Camille is trying to brush her teeth with diaper rash cream. Or as I’m distracted by the dog getting into the trash, Camille takes advantage and turns the bidet into her personal bathtub — fully clothed. It’s a never ending circle of dumb and dumber . . . if the dog isn’t chewing on it, Camille is scribbling on it. If I didn’t have Josie around to clean while I’m in charge of inmate supervision (obviously not doing a very good job of it) I would weep.

Ok, then. In between naps and sleep what have we been doing?

Two of the boys were playing at a friend’s house over the weekend so we took the other two for ice cream.  

Really big ice creams since they were buy one, get one with coupons from our Entertainer book. (Yes, they have those here too!) 

Meelie had dark chocolate and raspberry with fresh raspberries (mama’s choice) and Calvin had coffee/vanilla with cookie dough (I advised Heath Bar as a mix in, but he ignored my expertise). 

He liked it anyway.

Today Camille and I headed to the local grocery store. We saw another accident on the way — can you see the kids bouncing around inside the car without carseats or seat belts? Thankfully, they looked to be unharmed. Right after I took this, the car started smoking/steaming — not pretty.

Since Josh was gone over Carter’s birthday, we’re having a make-up birthday breakfast for dinner tonight. Pancakes, whipped cream, bacon, etc. 

She’s “helping.”

 

I bought peaches at the store and made some peach sauce to go on the pancakes (sugar, vanilla, cinnamon).

A little doggie massage . . .

Now two of the boys are home from school and working on homework (oh gosh, it is painful!). Then we’re off to brave the traffic to pick Calvin up from basketball practice. After dinner we’ll probably walk the dog and herd everyone to bed. Have to get lots of rest so I can get up and do it all over again tomorrow . . .

I’ve been having a hard time lately. I even muttered the words, “I hate this place” a few times this week.  That is so not me. I know that the root of my unhappiness has nothing to do with Bahrain since I firmly believe “wherever you go, there you are,” but I’ve been having location envy this week. Looking at pictures of my family on vacation in Carmel Valley made me wish I were there, harvesting organic vegetables at Earthbound Farms, going to the base chapel made me miss my 29 Palms church family, and being surrounded by nothing but dirt and concrete made me dream of the beautiful beaches and mountains of Oman.

But I will keep saying that things are fine here and keep telling myself that I will grow to love it here. Fake it till you make it, right?

One of the things that doesn’t make it easy to love it here is all my pent up road rage. You would not believe the amount of jackassery that happens on the roads here. A lot of it has to do with the Saudi influence and their mentality of entitlement. There were irritations on the roads in Oman, we joked that we couldn’t go anywhere without either laying on the horn or slamming on our brakes, but in Oman it was general incompetence that was the source of the bad driving. Infinitely more aggravating is the “me first” virtual middle fingers that are offered every city block. Like the guy who as we were sitting in a traffic back-up 20 cars deep, hopped the curb, drove one car length on the sidewalk and then hopped back down to cut in front of the car in front of him. Really?! That one car was holding you back, but you don’t mind the 19 others ahead of you?

Or the people who think it’s cool to pull up at the stoplight in the right lane and then make a U-Turn in front of everyone turning left because they don’t want to wait in the line of cars that is in the left hand turn lane. Or the morons who think the traffic lights don’t apply to them because they’re tired of waiting so they drive into and block the intersection, effectively keeping anyone from going anywhere. Or the people who park in the lane of traffic and don’t care that it holds up traffic behind them. (They really do park and leave!) The polite ones use their flashers at least.

Like this guy — he parked and left so everyone else has to wait for oncoming traffic to clear so we can swing wide around him.  

Another lazy parallel parker. At least he gave it a half-hearted attempt.

I don’t know why those drivers couldn’t have just parked on the sidewalk like everyone else. :eye roll:

See — traffic is green for those people driving left to right in front of me, but they have to weave in and out of the people who are completely blocking the intersection. :sigh:

And this winner, trying to squeeze in, practically kissing the car next to him. 

This?

Is what these guys are arguing about. I wouldn’t be happy about someone ripping the bumper off my BMW either.  

Lady pulls out, on her cell phone, nowhere to go, but blocking everyone. Yep, sounds about right.

Enjoy your civilized roads while I work on containing my rage . . . 

We were awakened by a phone call at 7am today. The one morning that we finally get to sleep in and BAM! Foiled by the phone. You would think that an early morning phone call would be important, right? Well it was to this little girl who wanted to know if Caleb could come over to play. Really?!

It’s a good thing Josh answered the phone because he was able to have a civilized conversation with the girl, whereas I would have yelled something like “wrong number!” and rolled over to go back to sleep.

She was requesting that he come over at 4am on Saturday since that’s when she gets up (Oh my! Her poor parents!), but when Josh said that was too early, she suggested 7am instead. Josh said that was still too early and asked what her parents thought about those plans. It turns out she hadn’t talked to them yet, so Josh suggested that she work it out with them first and then call back.

While all that talking was going on the dog woke up and wanted to go out. He came back in, leaped onto the bed and woke up Camille and then my day had to start for real. Thanks a lot, anonymous third grade girl. You really rocked my weekend.