Tag: Muscat

sick

Early this morning we were awakened by the sweet sounds of vomit being spewed from somewhere down the hall. Josh raced out of the room to help the unknown victim (although odds were on Caleb since he had thrown up the night before and Calvin, while feverish, hadn’t displayed any signs of puking) and I heard a loud thud and a small voice ask, “are you OK?”

So I dash out of bed and see Josh lying on the tile at the end of the hallway. He slipped in the vomit in the hallway (as Caleb had almost made it to the bathroom before throwing up) and landed hard, slamming his foot into the doorjamb, cracking a toenail in the process.

The commotion woke Carter, who immediately wanted to know if he could go open his Lego and chocolate advent calendars (really?!), and the baby who had been sleeping next to me. By the time Caleb and Josh showered off I had gotten the baby back to sleep, but then I was wide awake.

So much for a relaxing weekend spent sleeping in . . .

winter concert

The other night we all went to see Calvin perform at the middle school band and choir concert.

Calvin is in beginning band — they won’t be ready to perform until spring. Judging by the sounds I hear coming from his saxophone as he practices, that’s a wonderful Christmas gift to us all. The advanced band played Lady Gaga’s Poker Face and Taio Cruz’s Dynamite, along with a few other typical band pieces. They sounded way better than anything I ever heard from our middle school band.

Stretching her legs during intermission . . .
There’s my singer!

Hmm . . . don’t the shorter kids usually stand in the front row? In this case there were several tall boys in the front row completely blocking the kids behind them. I got a lot of awesome pictures of Tall Boy standing right in front of Calvin. Too bad I don’t know Tall Boy’s parents. I could have been their official photographer for the event.

7th & 8th grade combined choir

They sang a few songs that had nothing to do with holidays or winter, but they sounded nice. I spent most of my time zoomed in with my camera trying to time the swaying bodies to get a shot of . . .

this smiling guy. 

Christmas Joy

At our house there is very little emphasis on gifts at Christmas. And really, that’s more about the fact that I’m a bad gift giver and receiver than for any deep spiritual reason. Some years we have skipped gifts completely and bought “presents” for each other and for extended family via websites like Samaritan’s Purse, giving the boys each a fixed amount to spend in secret. Then on Christmas day we enjoy seeing that Caleb decided to buy milk for a baby for Camille, Carter bought fishing equipment for a family to give to Calvin, and Calvin sent money to teach kids how to read. Independently they each chose to send soccer balls so kids could play soccer (football) just like they love to. I loved it when someone gave me a knitting gift in the form of a sheep that would provide wool for a fellow knitter. Hopefully they’re knitting up warm socks and hats as I write this.

This year we had the opportunity to volunteer as a family for Christmas Joy, an annual Christmas party for 500 women or men in need here in Oman. The sexes alternate years so this year it was a party for women. Throughout the fall different groups at church collected items to be given away at the party. The AWANA kids donated hair accessories, the Women’s fellowship group donated bath towels, etc.

Two nights before the party we all got together to pack the gift bags, assembly line style. The boys helped fill and move the bags and Camille did her part by remaining happy on my back.

The night of the event, 500 women were invited to attend to play games, sing, dance, eat, and receive gifts. I was so proud of each of my boys as I watched them serve according to their own gifts. Calvin helped greet the women and play games with them, Carter was organizing and helping hand out the gift bags, and Caleb helped collect food tickets and pass out meals.

The line of volunteers all wearing red — there were so many people there to help. 

Carter getting the bags ready to hand out. 

The women lining up to receive their christmas gift at the end — a bag filled with a new purse, bath towel, toiletries, perfume and hair accessories.

This year we will have a gift for each of the kids under the tree (unless I let them open them at the start of vacation — see, totally not a gift person), but when they are older and thinking back on our Christmases, I hope they remember these experiences are more important than LEGO sets.

I’m happy I can’t see the future

because I would most certainly screw things up if given the chance. This morning I was thinking about how we “should have been” back in the US by now, our year in Egypt completed, and on to our next duty station. Instead I’m driving around Muscat trying to find black dress pants for Calvin’s middle school choir concert tonight, baking a dessert for Carter’s classroom party, planning a trip to Dubai over Christmas vacation, and we still have another lovely 6 months stretched out in front of us before we move on to the next place. (Enshalla)

But if I could have seen the future a year ago I would have been completely traumatized by the idea of being uprooted, going back to the US, then back overseas, the decision to put the kids in school . . . if you had given me the choice up front, I wouldn’t have chosen this path. Even the promise of a good result wouldn’t have been worth it to me back then.

But we have seen amazing things come from our crazy year. Being back at my parents’ house, while frustrating at the time because we had no idea what would happen next, was a wonderful two months where we were completely embraced and loved by them, by people at their church, people from our church, and complete strangers who went out of their way to help us out. And to be home for my sister’s wedding was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I will always be thankful for the revolutionaries who generated my plane ticket home — even though I left the country kicking and screaming on the inside.

And our opportunity to come to Oman? If it had been up to me I would have chosen to return to Egypt, curfews and all. And that would have been the wrong choice. Even though there are plenty of times when I miss our life there, I know we are in the right place for us. Really, if we were moved to Egypt tomorrow, I’d have a long, long list of things I would miss about Oman.

Tomorrow marks exactly 6 months until the last day of school and June 13th is the beginning of our next “unknown.” We know we’ll be moving, but we don’t know where. And the fact that I can’t pick the place (or even the country) is a good thing. Wherever we’re assigned, I know God will provide. I’ll just hold on and try to enjoy the ride.


MWF Christmas lunch

A year ago the family and I were partying with a camel at Maadi House in Egypt.
This December 12th I was at a beautiful mansion on the Arabian Sea with our Muscat Women’s Fellowship group. We met at the house of American missionaries (he was a doctor and she was a teacher) who originally came to Oman with their three young children back in the 1950s. The story of their relationship with Oman and their relationship with the Sultan is incredible. After they retired from their decades of work here, the Sultan gave them this property and built them a home right on the water. He also granted them Omani citizenship. They were gracious enough to let us meet and have lunch at their home.

Can you imagine waking up to this every morning? 

In the early years they used to have to sleep on the roof at night under wet towels. It was so hot the towels would dry out and they’d have to re-wet them in the middle of the night to be able to fall back to sleep.

A guy fishing in the cove — he had a spear and a mask and would paddle along the surface with his face in the water looking for his catch.

Last year was camels, this year it’s goats.

Mountain (of) goats?

Even in December it’s so hot that the goats all retreat to the shade in the middle of the day. Mom and Dad, this is why you’ll be glad you’re not coming in April. January will be plenty warm.