Yank on a Hot Tin Roof

Summer is here in blazing force on the island. The pre-Ramadan buzz is stirring. Sales starting for the feasting...I mean fasting...a-hem. Everything from dates to pillows to rice cookers on sale to pull in the masses for the evening "Ramadan timings". This referring to the altered schedules of the businesses during Ramadan. I am learning the ins and outs of produce shopping from my new housemaid and babysitter, Chitra. "This place sells bad melons, don't buy from them. This rice is too expensive, buy Tilda in the bag. " Apparently she can knock and tell if it is mushy.I came in prancing with my bargain melon. She unloads it from the bag and takes pause. I got screwed, I could tell by her face. Sure enough we cut it open and I managed to carve out a 1/2 kilo of decent melon out of the 5 kilos I bought. Those outside vendors sold me a cooked watermelon!!! Next lesson is Biryani Chicken and some sort of chicken wing dish. She knows I like to cook and she is gonna get jiggy in the kitchen with me Sri Lankan style.

Have I mentioned it is hot? It is a wave of unnatural heat that hits you, like someone turned a forced air furnace on right outside your door. You're vehicle is a torture device for about 15 minutes unless you were smart enough to run it a while before mounting. It is nice to be home though, and have the family together. A lot of the fun stuff we enjoy is hindered by the heat and Brigid's cast. So, August 3rd is the big day. She is getting tired of the plastic wrapped arm and the kiddie pool.

This is a weird time for the military families. New families pile in, recent friends move away, and most who are mid-tour bail like rats from a sinking ship for the summer. Those who stay try to welcome the newcomers. That is what we do best. "Welcome to the suck, do you need friends?!" This is a unique group of spouses. Joint military branches of every rank, NCIS,Embassy,Contractor,and Govt. employees from various agencies. We are purely social and support. We don't have dues, don't do fundraisers, don't do scholarships, and we even have a few men. Just like with the OSC they rarely show their faces. That many women tends to scare the average lad.

I have kept the book club afloat now that we are all back on the island. It is always a fun evening with some smart, funny ladies w/ a dash of nerdiness that only another bookworm can cherish. My intent is to stay til the end of the tour. That 23 hour flight is tough with three kids. I can't just put the headphones on and go to sleep or read. I have to be on alert all the time. I think the only real interest I have in traveling in this part of the world is to Jordan and Jerusalem. The Dead Sea, the lost city of Petra,the Holy Lands. I hope I get to see them, because once I leave here, I won't be back. So, time to bide and save some money and get the kids back on track academically. It was a rough year in that regard and I am ready to make up for lost time. So, wish me luck as we creep through the summer seeking shade and water. I seriously do not know how this place was inhabited prior to air conditioning.

Hells Bells it is HOT HOT HOT!

You will be happy to hear that we are safely home in Bahrain with my beloved. Keeping in the spirit of "never a dull moment" my little Brigid broke her arm to smithereens 2 days before our departure. She was too swollen to cast, but cleared to fly. The assailant? Monkey bars of course. Isn't it always monkey bars or perhaps a rogue tree now and again? She arrived with her soft cast, checked in at the clinic, saw the ortho out in town, and had surgery. Sounds simple. It wasn't of course. Anyone who knows insurance companies knows that is never the case. So, after showing a small glimpse of my momma grizzly, I greased the red tape. If I haven't learned anything else from my sweet husband, it is that you walk in and leave no doubt that you are calling the shots (sprinkled with a little Yankee girl charm of course). It was more like Yoda,"there is no try, only do". So, they did and I retracted my claws and all was well.

I came home to our big house, so blissfully happy. Bob even went to the store! The next day reality hits. There hadn't been a maid there in about 3 weeks. With a near empty house, that doesn't really seem a problem,right? That is until you factor in a sandstorm that not only made the outside look like Hogan's goat, but made you able to write your name in the floor of several bathrooms and George's room. The sand is so fine, not like the North Carolinian variety. Think confectioners sugar, not the type you dip your spoon in for tea time. In two of the bathrooms I ended up removing all perishable paper products and hosing the whole bloody room down with the butt sprayer. Quite effective, actually. We have also entered the season of hot water and hotter water. The tanks for the water supply are on the roof. so....As you can imagine, the water heats up in 112 degree weather.

Things have changed here. There are check points to come home over the bridge. There are tanks and barbed wire around the Central Market area and areas we are told not to go (areas I used to frequent). There is a huge open air produce market right in front of my housing area, probably due to the Central Market being in the center of the trouble. There are also more Bahraini flags around, patriots showing support for the King. Bahrain is still Bahrain, however. Turkish grills and fabric souqs and lots of overripe fruit.

I am back with my baby, my kids are back in school, and I just hired a new lass to clean the house twice a week. Now we are off to France for an 8 day blissful retreat to the Luberon Valley. No work, no Arab driver's trying to kill me and mine, no tanks and check points, and PORK on probably every menu! Then back to the heat of the Bahraini summer and Ramadan closely approaching. Now, don't think I am complaining. I have been giddy ever since I stepped through that big tacky glass and iron gate! I love my bed, my floor, my cookware, my crappy cable that never works! We are actually having a pretty good time. The only real complaint is that my Yankee blood must again adjust to 110-120 degree temperatures. Maybe this is God's way of melting off that 15 lbs. I gained in Colorado.

The Yank,the Virginian, the Tarheel, and the Jap are displaced

It has been a busy and confusing 2 months. I went home in February to Cleveland with my children for a three week visit. The purpose was to get a uterine biopsy. Thanks be to God it was negative. I home-schooled the kids, which went about as well as you can expect. We managed. Mid-March I attempted to fly back to Virginia to hop the MAC flight and return home. Bob called me at the gate of Cleveland Hopkins, 10 minutes before boarding, and told me I couldn't come home.The civil unrest in Bahrain had escalated overnight, and the Saudi and UAE troops were headed over the causeway in defense of the Bahraini Monarchy. Families that were in Bahrain could voluntarily evacuate, but those who were already stateside had no choice in the matter. We had to stay put until the voluntary departure and the state of emergency status was rescinded.

Since then, the govt has flown me to Colorado (near the other half of our family) to get settled and to wait this out. Getting a clean, safe, furnished home and a good school was the priority. This being more touristy, we managed to find a monthly furnished house in the historic district. I can see the school from my front porch, the girls have their own beds, I have full service kitchen, and I am able to inspect and work on our rental properties that are right down the street. The school has been a GodsendMy kids had missed what amounted to 3 1/2 weeks, since the Bahrain School was shut down during the protests. The teachers and staff and students treated my girls like a shiny new toy, and welcomed them with open arms.We have an opportunity to bond with some extended family as well. So, for now, we are content.

Being separated from Bob has been tough. Especially on him, I believe. It is different when he is the one who is gone. He can focus on work without coming home to a big empty house. No toys, no empty high chair, no empty beds. This time we are the ones who had to leave, and it has been rough on all of us. Daddy's birthday was a hard day. These little trials that come along with military life do have a positive side. You learn to roll with the punches. You also learn to appreciate the precious family ties that get strained at the time. It is these separations that make the time together so very sweet. We try not to waste them.

People find it crazy that I used to be a cop. It seems like a lifetime ago. It sounds exciting doesn't it? I can tell you that between spending 9-11 jetlagged in Japan, 4 deployments, 2 countries, 3 states, and 5 kids, the adventure didn't start til I quit my job and married my Marine. For every heartache, there has been love and laughs and adventure. My girls will look back on our Durango detour and have a story to tell their kids. The fact that the three were born in three different places just goes to show that life is never boring if you take the King's coin.

The New Year, phew...

Well, the holiday season is over and the kids are back in school. I was ashamed about how happy I was to see that bus pull up! Honestly, I find that I need a vacation after their vacation. Having Bob home was awesome, and Robs flying in made everything perfect. However, that many people home ALL DAY, eating ALL day, dirtying dishes and floors, and laundry!!! ah! Get out of my house!!!! haha...I mean our house! I know what you are thinking. "shut up you lazy slattern, you have a maid twice a week!" I know I know I know. Between sand storms and the revolving refrigerator door and piles of laundry, 9 hours a week sounds like a lot of help, but it isn't getting me out of working my arse off. So...phew. We had a quiet family Christmas and New Years. We took the lad around to the different tourist sites and shops. It was nice. I missed my family back home a lot and can't wait for the reunion this summer.

So now we concentrate on France. I am so excited about that. Clara is learning French in school from an awesome parent volunteer, and we are starting to narrow down our itinerary for day trips. I am just looking forward to GREEN and colored landscapes dotted with flowers and grapes and orchards. I miss creatures, too. Other than birds and stray domestic animals, all we have are bugs and rats. No rats around here, but the more urban areas attract them for obvious reasons. Restaurant dumpsters are the best spoils. So exploring the color splashed Luberon Valley and the fields of flowers and villages that inspired Vincent Van Gogh sounds like heaven right about now. I want to shop for fabrics and antiques and lavender toiletries and eat lovely non-curried food. I want to go where the wine and produce are local, not shipped in from Saudi Arabia. I also want to dress smartly and not fret over how much skin I am showing.I want to be FABULOUS in France with my little girls frolicking through the sunflowers, and by God I am going to do it!!! So welcome 2011, hold on to your beret.

A poem for my military girlfriends XOXOX

I wrote a little poem for all my military girls who have spent a Christmas without their sweetheart. Mine will be here this year, but I know not everyone's will. I love you all.Stay strong. Have a wonderful holiday.For all my other friends, remember the sacrifices your military families make and thank the Lord that your husband will be right next to you stuffing stockings this year!


Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the base
There were daddies gone missing
with mom in his place
The stockings were hung, the care package sent
to a barracks, a warehouse or a dusty old tent

The kiddies were sleeping, like they always do
The spirit of Christmas is hers to pursue
She bakes for the classroom, she shops all alone
She makes Christmas special, she waits by the phone

or she packs up the car, heads out on her own
with kids and the dog she is headed for home
To share her burden with family so dear
She drives through the snow praying all roads stay clear

And what to her wondering eyes should appear?
Her sweetheart on skype to calm all her fears
A gift under the tree that he sent while she drove
Knowing the love that he took when he chose

So she smiles Christmas morning as the gifts get unwrapped
The ham's in the oven, the wine bottle tapped
But she feels to her core the empty chair in her sight
Merry Christmas my love, may you have a safe night.

on Christmas

We are getting the house ready for Christmas. This is always a time of reflection for me. I had a good childhood. Christmas was special. My mom didn't work when I was little. My dad was low seniority at FORD. We suffered our strikes and lay offs and had our fat periods when the overtime was plentiful. He usually didn't take a lot on in the way of overtime. He worked hard for his family, but he didn't want to make it all in vain by being one of those men that put in 60 hours a week and never saw his family. Christmas was about family and kids and God. We weren't spoiled, but they made sure they budgeted a nice showing under the tree. One year we all came down to brand new bicycles. Not, however, spoiled to the extent that I spoil my own. Sometimes I think I do that because of the moving and the separation from Grandparents and feeling some pathetic need to make up for it with lots of presents. Especially if daddy is deployed which has happened with three of our 10 Christmases together.

The last three Christmases have been rough. No daddy, daddy sitting in ICU with Grandma who stroked out in our living room on Dec.22, and no daddy again. This Christmas we will be together, crossing our fingers that our eldest boy makes it on that rotator. Did I overspend? Oh yes. Is that what it is all about? no. We teach our children about Christ's birth. We light the advent candles. We read to them and we have the nativity scene and the advent calendar. We take them to church, we pray with them. We do try to teach them the true meaning while also feeding into the commercial mayhem.Being in a Muslim country is just a reminder that we need to remember what it is all about.

A lot of people who are Christians can tell you the moment they "came to Christ". The stories can be moving and inspirational and sometimes peppered with tragedy. Honestly, I can't tell you the moment. I was brought to Christ from the cradle. I always believed. My parents have swayed back and forth with the church attendance like many of us do.They never swayed in their faith, at least not so that I noticed. We always knew, though, about God and his sacrifice. My parents were raised in West Virginia in those kind of churches you read about. Hopping up and down, can I get an AMEN,speaking in tongues? In adulthood my dad went back to his ethnic roots and joined the Roman Catholic church. My mom stayed protestant. I converted to Episcopalian when I married Bob.The truth is that worship styles are different and the cross on the altar may be different. However, the messages have all been about the same.The principles all solid.

Someone heard "the call" at the foot of my grandmother's grave. A person that my grandmother had ministered to by word and deed her whole life. As she stood there at my grandmother's funeral, she knew that her time was up. The little angel that had prodded and encouraged her was gone and she had to act.She approached the minister and told him that she wanted to be baptized. She wanted to show Brizie that she was listening and that she had finally gotten through. So my aunt and mom ran up to the house and got some spare clothes and everyone stayed and lingered. The preacher said that some might feel it was inappropriate to have the baptism right there in the creek near Brizie's grave, but he knows it is what she would have wanted. We all knew it, too. So the funeral goers sang and rejoiced and they brought my grandmother's old friend into the church family. She came to Christ right there in that muddy creek, right where Brizie knew she belonged. It was moving. It is like that for some people, the epiphany.

All I know is that faith was a gift given to me as a small child.It was a gift from my dear mother and her mother. It is a gift I will re-gift to my own. It is why we put up the tree and get the gifts and bake the cookies and color the eggs. I listen to my husband telling my kids stories from the bible and it makes me proud of him.I have watched him pray over his sick mother. He came to my child bed with his Eucharistic minister kit and gave me communion and read to me while I recovered. I think Brizie would have approved of my sweetheart.

So here in Bahrain, my children continue to learn about Christmas. Closer to his birthplace then they may ever be again.

Culture Shock... from my home to yours.

Moving is always an adventure. There are always adjustments. You learn to adapt. Unlike traveling, which is a temporary condition, your changes are long term, involving years instead of days.It was OK that in England you couldn't get warm water, only cold and hot, because each has it's own faucet. It was temporary and kind of charming in that scalding your hands kind of way. Driving, shopping,cooking,the toilet scene...you just never really know what you are in store for until you are in it.

Japan was yen,left side driving, crazy toilets that were a little better than a hole in the floor or technical,mechanical wonders for toilet seats with 15 settings (depending on where you are). Oh, and pushing...that's right, pushing. It is okay to gently nudge the back of someone when moving through a crowd. I found it annoying at first, but then realized that everyone around me was doing it to each other. It was just the thing they do, nothing personal and no aggressive intent. They liked to touch my kids too, Japanese, Thais,and Arabs alike. They feel compelled to touch my kids. A little weird, but I try not to be too neurotic. They just love babies.

There are perks too. Japanese have vending machines everywhere. City, tourist site,shopping areas,rice pattys on the side of the road... there stands a vending machine for your convenience. Vending machines full of delightful drinks both hot and cold. The amazing part is that there is no litter. None. They just wouldn't dream of tossing their trash on the ground. And let us not forget the beer vending machines. Can you imagine that little treasure as a teenager? Good Japanese beer cold and waiting right there in public places. Japanese have the right idea.

Bahrain is a whole different ball game. They litter like fiends. They do have one thing down right. Food delivery is everywhere. From nice Thai and Indian places to McDonalds and Dairy Queen. They all deliver. The driving is a different story. Like pushing in Japan, smashing the shit out of someone's car seems to be an acceptable means of getting your way behind the wheel. Signs, pavement markings,traffic signals, seat belts, and child restraints are all suggestions...for the weak. Everything is Insha'Allah, God's will. Therefore, if you do crash, it was all in the master plan and no one's fault.If your kid goes through the windshield? God's Will. That would be great if us Yanks had a separate set of roadways to drive on, but we don't. So, on your toes behind the wheel at all times. Never drink and drive. You need your wits about you.

Separation of Church and state? Not happening in Bahrain. If you are seen eating or drinking in public during in Ramadan before the sun sets, you can be arrested. Even if you are not Muslim this applies.More likely you are probably going to just be publicly bitched out for being an insensitive Western infidel. Unlike our small towns of America that are under attack for Nativity Scenes in public places and the ACLU working to ban church bells, Bahrain is a Muslim nation. If you forget, wait a couple of hours and the Mosques will start ringing out the call to prayer on every other corner. The American kids at our American DODEA school don't get Easter Sunday off, but The Prophet's birthday instead. Mine get Easter Sunday off, because mine will be in church with their parents that day, but it will be an absence from school.

Now...about the toilets. It is great in the homes. There are more toilets than bedrooms most of the time.None of that weak,water saving flushers either. Whabammy! Good, solid, hope-you-didn't-drop-an-earring-all-drains-lead-to-the-ocean-Finding-Nemo flush! All heads are including either a bidet or a sprayer. You know those sprayers that you find on American kitchen sinks? yes...and high powered. You gotta watch yourself in the summer. The water tanks are exposed on the roof and there is only hot water and hotter water in the summer. No such thing as a cold shower or a cold cycle in the laundry, so keep that in mind before you open up with the sprayer on your behind.The showers aren't enclosed most of the time, either. You are just OUT THERE. The bathroom ends up soaked including that fresh roll of toilet paper you just put out. There are no outlets. Too dangerous with 220V. I found it kind of liberating, though, after a while. I can clean the walls and the floor at the same time as I wash my hair. Just make sure you have a good, solid bath mat. Dangerous business once the wash is over.

Public toilets are a whole other thing. That spraying can get out of hand. Most big places have toilet paper. However, the old school method is the sprayer. So you can walk into a stall and have it soaked down from some over zealous washer. Mix the water on the floor with whatever horrid matter is on the floor of a public toilet and you get the willies even walking in there. One of these days, I am just going to take that sprayer and open fire on the person washing their hands. "That's for wrecking the head jackass!psshhhhhhh." If you are really unlucky, no TP or merely a box of 59 Cent tissues. So you learn to take wipes and TP in your purse.

Grocery shopping is always a little scary at first. Going from English to Metric, Dollars to Dinar, dealing with labels that you can't read. I bought generic pledge the other day. Wait, no I didn't, I bought air freshener! It was next to the pledge, same can shape, I just grabbed it. The sneaky buggers tricked me. So, now I have another air freshener and no furniture polish. That's OK though, It actually humored me a little when I started spraying it on the table and it immediately evaporated. Took me a second to figure it out and I had to chuckle at myself. It plainly said air freshener on the can amidst all the Arabic writing.

Negotiating. Nothing is negotiable in Japan. Fixed prices with none of the "screw the gringo" type behavior. Bahrain, everything is negotiable. Negotiating is not my forte. I stink at it, they smell my weakness. You have to do it, though. They really are charging you more than a local to see if you will pay it. They expect a little haggling. One of the great lines from the movie A Christmas Story is "my old man loved to bargain like an Arab trader". I never fully understood that line until now.

It may sound like I am complaining. I am and I am not. I know from experience that some of these funny little cultural differences will be looked back on with laughter and fondness. It is the craziness that makes it an adventure. You learn to roll with it.