Chapter 21: Papers Aplenty

So today Mom and I drove through a different checkpoint. It's a beautiful drive and was even more so tonight as it was twilight and the air was crystal clear and the light from the setting sun looked fantastic on the (it has taken me five minutes to try and find the right word to describe the clouds...and nothing) clouds. While it is the longest drive home, it is often the most relaxing, or at least refreshing, so we approached the two shacks and giant cement dividers that make up the checkpoint at peace with the world, all our chakras aligned. Usually we flash our passports at the guard of the day, he gives them a cursory inspection, smiles and then waves us on, telling us to be welcome and have nice days. Tonight, our guy was a just as courteous as ever, smiling, gentle, almost welcoming...I mean, minus the giant gun of course, but then, after looking at our passports, he asked us a question. While the question turned out to be both surprising and a bit confusing to Mom and I, I think we were more shocked that we had been asked anything at all. Don't get me wrong, we are used to be grilled and not just in military situations, at the post office, the bank, sometimes even the supermarket, but this checkpoint was a beacon of hope to us, a place where they seemed strangely uninterested in what I had eaten for lunch and actively worked to keep some of the mystery in our relationship alive (they were active because they didn't ask...never mind, I'm sure you can understand me, or at least cobble together something interesting for yourselves).
Anyway, the guard, we'll call him George (as in Curious), leaned over and asked, "Is this a rental car?" And now I can explain our resulting surprise and confusion. I don't think I have ever explained the car we drive over here. It is a forest green Diahatsu Applause, no idea what the year is, but it at least a decade old judging by our registration stickers on the windshield. I say forest green, but it is more than just that for the Applause, or our little habibtee (Arabic for sweetie for girls...I learned the hard way that when you call a boy sweetie it's habibee...I have yet to live that down), has been struck with some kind of vehicular leprosy (not like a leopard...but actually, it does have spots, kind of). It looks as though someone has diligently taken a blow torch and various acids to the paint job, stripping it away chip by chip. Something must be wrong with the composition of the paint because apparently it just started washing away before the sisters eyes (I should also mention that the Franciscans own the car and graciously allow us to use it). What we lack in paint, we make up with dents and scrapes. Apparently our car is invisible to the woman who lives across the street from us, or Madame Ding-Dong/Senora Crash, for she smacks into it quite often. In short (but not really that short), our car, while reliable and wonderful, is a Middle East hooptie (on the outside), and that is why we were surprise George asked if it was a rental. What sketchy rental agencies does he think we frequent? Despite our confusion, we answered that no it was not a rental car. This did not satisfy him completely and so we started to search for the current registration paper, despite the fact that our current registration sticker was clearly displayed on the windshield not two feet from his face. We were handicapped by our inability to read or understand Hebrew, so we just started shoving random papers from the glove box at him. At one time we had all the pertinent papers in a single pouch, but things fell apart for various reasons and the center could not hold (yeah, I'm classy like that). I pretty sure I gave him a napkin at one point. Anyway, we finally gave him the correct paper, he read it, and then mumble something like "Sistermphrmga", which we understood to mean, "this name is different from the passports". We looked at each other and returned our gaze to the maelstrom that had once been the glove box for inside was the letter written by one of the sisters saying Mom has permission to drive their car, the letter we believed would set us free. As I dove in, I heard Mom mutter under her breath, "If Lily ate it, I'll kill myself." If you remember, Lily is our landlord. I knew Mom's mutter was in fact referring to the destruction of our pouch of car papers at the jaws of Blackie, Lily's giant black dog (who is incredibly sweet and under the impression that everyone greets him with gifts...like scarves or keys or scarves....he's very partial to cashmere blends). I knew that she was more concerned that Blackie had ingested the all important letter, not that Lily had taken to scarfing down bits of paper.
Eventually, I found the required item, George read it, gave us a big smile, and told us to be welcome and have nice nights thanks. As we drove away, I gazed down at my lap, strewn with papers and passports and realized I was clutching something in my hand, ready to pass George another piece of paper in case the last one failed to satisfy him. When I looked at it I realized it was a prayer card with a picture of Divine Mercy Jesus (basically Jesus with two beams of light that look almost like heavenly traffic lights, not in a good way, one red and one blue...maybe he should called Policeman Jesus) and the phrase "I confide in you, O Jesus"...or something similar to that. Probably not the best card to hand over to the soldiers, no matter how nice or curious they might be.
So that's my story for today. And now I need to get ready for bed. It's nearly 8 o'clock afterall...

Chapter 20: The Zoo (part 2)

Part 2! Well, if we had been carrying signs that read "Zoo or bust" we would have busted. After sitting at the checkpoint for nearly an hour in a bus full of kids that were both excited and impatient, playing countless rounds of Slap Jack, searching for Hidden Pictures, and even reading from my 1st grade level Arabic workbook (I was really desperate...I was doing anything to keep my group of boys at the back of the bus engaged in useful things...things like not whaling on each other), we made it to the Biblical Zoo, only to be met with disappointment. The lady at the ticket counter refused to let us come in because she said "it's not fair to the children, they will all get sick". First of all, since when is the lady at the box office in charge of the universe...why does she get to decide who enjoys the zoo and who doesn't? Secondly, if you're not going to let people in when it rains, kindly close the gate. And finally, I (and the kids) WANTED TO SEE SOME BIBLICAL FREAKING ANIMALS! Whew, I just had to get that off my chest. After we were turned away from the zoo we tried to take the kids to some place called 'YummyYummy'...I don't know what it was and I never did find out because it turned out it was closed anyway. Of course, we had to fight through traffic all the way across town to find this out. We ended up at a place called 'Goodies', essentially McDonalds, complete with indoor play area. We all had burgers and fries and Coke...some kids wanted juice (I overheard two of the oldest boys discussing how you should drink juice when you're younger because it will make you strong...Coke does not make you strong and thus we should not drink it...clearly these are very thoughtful and concerned boys) and then the kids played and the faculty tried to prevent any deaths (the play area had tile floor and the windows clearly weren't water tight because water was streaming down the walls and onto the floor making it a death trap with just one person walking across it...with 30 kids and 10 adults, it was like the car crash ending in "The Pink Panther", but no blood, truly miraculous. Anyway, after more rounds of SlapJack and War (I would like to point out that the boys were using my deck of cards which were decorated with Victorian flower fairies...but no one seemed to mind) with the older boys and playtime/acrobatic safety catches for the younger kids/harried faculty (after my 10 min shift watching the mini climbing wall, I hid in a bathroom stall to regroup and refocus), we rounded everyone up and onto the bus and headed back to school. So that was our day at the zoo. Technically we made it to the grounds of the zoo, but never stepped inside. But who knows, maybe one of the tigers got out and was wandering around, waiting for an unsuspecting group of school children. Yeah, that's my story. In missing the zoo we also missed a horrific tiger mauling, so thank you zoo box office lady, you truly were looking out for our best interests.

Chapter 20: The Zoo (part 1)

Today we (the kids, most of the faculty, and I) are going to the zoo. In Arabic, a zoo is called a 'garden of animals'....pretty huh? Anyway, I have a busy morning, but I thought I'd set the scene. It is currently 51 degrees outside (by the way, this will all be in Fahrenheit because I do not understand Celsius) but it feels like 40, due to the rain and wind. We can expect a high of 60...maybe, and the rain is supposed to continue off and on for the rest of the day. A typical fall day...in Seattle, not in yon Holy Land. Soooo, I'll let you know how it all plays out. I'm super psyched - it's raining, I'm packing my own lunch (everyone is allowed to bring items that are forbidden at school usually...like chips and cola...not sonic death rays or stuff like that...who would eat that anyway?!), and I'm bringing lots of small candies to convince the two boys that make up my group that they don't want to misbehave and instead want to listen to everything Missy Gwynedd says...and perhaps learn something at the same time. However, chocolate is not a magical substance, nor can it cause miracles. I'm just hoping for two out of three. And now, get ready for....(to be continued in part 2).