Chapter 26: Cabbage, Cabbage Everywhere...and ALMOST all of it for me!

Today was a school holiday, so the staff met for a short meeting and then went our separate ways. Mom's and my way included lunch at the principal's house (SCORE!), mostly because I rudely invited myself over to their house the day before...but my time here is short and I want to visit people as much as I can...and I REALLY missed their cooking. SO, we went to their house, not caring who invited who, and after we toured the changes since our last supper (not that kind of supper...notice the lack of capitalization) together (the house is still under construction...livable, but not completed) we sat down to (I don't actually have a parenthetical reference...I just thought I should chop up the sentence as much as possible) lunch. We dined on two of my top 5 Middle Eastern dishes, Malfoof (cabbage rolls...which doesn't sound exciting, but trust me, it is) and tabbouleh ('nough said). I can see it in your electronic eyes, you're wild to know the other three items, so I'll drop some knowledge on you. The following are, in no particular order (which is why the numbers are all mixed up) Gwynedd's Top 5 Middle Eastern Meals/Dishes/Delights/Yumtastickness!! (they're so good, they deserve two exclamation points)

4. Makluba (very involved dish, but essentially comes down to chicken, rice, many spices, cauliflower, many other vegetables, and yogurt...oh no, I'm drooling something fierce)
1. Hummus (but it only makes the top 5 if it's from Abu Shukri...everything else is good, but not worthy of this list, the highest of culinary honors)
3. Malfoof (leaves of giant green cabbages, rolled around rice, meat, spices, then cooked and served with fresh lemon juice)
2. Kanafeh (I believe I've described it before...basically the best dessert ever...except for creme brulee...maybe better...no, I really love creme brulee)
5. (funny how this still came out at the end...funny interesting, not funny haha) Tabbouleh (everyone has a different style for this salad...for example, when I make it, it comes out looking like soup)

And there you have it, the list of greatness and wonder. Use this knowledge well my friends...it might one day save the world...or your gastronomic adventures. But now back to our regularly scheduled program of "The Gwynedd Show"!
With two of the top five dishes present on the table, you'd think that I'd be first in my chair, banging my fork on the table, chanting something catchy and classy...like "FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!", but such was not the case. J, the principal's delightful 2 year-old daughter, had me beat by at least 15 seconds, which may not sound like much, but it wasn't that far from the living room to the table...and my legs are considerably longer than hers. I attribute the speed to her passion for food. J loves food more than almost anything. If asked to choose between her parents or food, I'm pretty sure she'd pick her parents, but it would be close. She loves food so much that she sprinted to the table, even though she had just had lunch at her grandmother's house. And while I can safely say I ate more than J (I had seconds...okay, that's not true, I had fifths), it wasn't much more, which leads to an important question, where does it all go? Maybe she has the world's fastest metabolism or a tapeworm or a personal baby trainer...or some combination of the three. Whatever it is, it's working. After lunch, Mom and I headed to the mall to complete many pressing errands, but because it is dinner time, and I'm slightly peckish (maybe I'm developing J's metabolism!), I'm going to sign off and save the story for another day. Farewell, dear reader, until we meet again.

Chapter 25: Cupid will NOT be defeated...

...and I'm back in the game! Apparently, I only feel called to post when I'm basking in the glow of yon Holy Land. As the chapter title implies (or at least implies to me), today is Valentine's Day and I have felt more than my fair share of love today. I hadn't seen anyone from the school in over six months (too long) and all but jumped on the teachers as I greeted them today. Luckily, they had the same reaction to my presence, so our equal and opposite forces balanced out the loving/dangerous physics equations of hugs, and no one was hurt...that badly.

Hmmmmmm...I've been sitting here for the past five minutes, trying to think of something worthwhile to write and...nothing. Since it's my first day back, I'm not going to push it. Just know that I will have my eyes peeled tomorrow for a fitting story/image to post. Very exciting, very exciting indeed. Oh, and, keep on runnin' player, 'cause I got my good shoes on and I got 'em tied up tight (just in case you didn't get the musical reference in the title)! Until tomorrow.

Chapter 24: The 28 Steps to Great Dental Health

Some people say you can have too much of a good thing, and it's true. I always thought my "good thing" was candy or ketchup or mac and cheese or ketchup or video games or movies or...ketchup. I never considered brushing my teeth as a possible over doing it scenario...until now.
I have the world's greatest dentist and I can prove this...with FACTS. I am 24 years old and have never had a cavity...ever. In the past (the past includes everything up to February 17, 2010), I did not take the best care of my teeth...sporadic brushing (thank you "Clueless" for that vocabulary gem), lack of flossing, sometimes (often) no brushing at all. My performance was lackluster. But, when I was serious about brushing I would do the 7 Steps, and my teeth would turn into shining beacons of hope (I just realized I use that phrase a lot...I may be over doing it...or over dramatizing...or both) for myself, and possibly for my dentist. Now, you may be asking "What are these 7 Steps? And why are you capitalizing the 'S'? Are they from the Bible? Is there a holy way to brush your teeth, to be used only in the Holy Land?" (I find it highly unlikely that any of you asked the last question) Or maybe you are an independent self sufficient woman...or man (but the independent woman thing works better, because Destiny's Child never sang about independent gentlemen throwing their hands up at them) and you have already looked up the 7 Steps on the interwebs (okay, so I just googled "7 Steps" and got nowhere near what I wanted, so you have to be really proactive and put in "7 Steps Dental"...and then you hit the jackpot). The 7 Steps to Great Dental Health is an extremely effective way of brushing your teeth and it can change your life. I direct your attention to my dentist's website (www.7dentalsteps.com) for more information (it's informative and entertaining...the cartoons are pretty sweet too). Basically, the 7 Steps (oh man, I almost forgot to capitalize the s) are preventative dentistry...if you do them, the cavities will not come. (I have never written so much about teeth in my entire life). Why am I writing so much about these steps? What are these steps? Will I ever write an entry that is as amusing as it is informative? (probably not)
The reason for all the teeth-talk is that my dentist gave Mom and I tons of toothbrushes, toothpaste, dental floss, Stim-U-Dents, and other cool stuff for the kids at school. We then passed the buck to the school nurse who said that before we taught the kids the Steps, we had to have the support of the staff...and so began the Great Dental Challenge (that's the most exciting name I could come up with)! After about a week of brushing their teeth with the 7 Steps, all the teachers were convinced that this was the way to go...seriously, nearly every staff member came up to me to talk about their teeth, because for some unknown reason (Mom) I had been labeled as the poster child for dental health (if my dentist were dead, he would have rolled over in his grave upon hearing that).
(Break for delicious dinner of yummy chicken, rice, yogurt, corn and Grapefruit Fizzys...oh yeah!)
And I'm back...
So, the teachers stood as a untied front behind the mighty 7 Steps and the science teacher and I were chosen to explain and exhibit...no, that's not the right word...display...show...dang it. The science teacher discussed the importance of brushing your teeth and described the 7 Steps to the kids in Arabic. I (shoot...all I can think of is enacted...enabled...effervesced...well, the last one certainly doesn't work) put on the show, going through the Steps in front of the kids and giving them a close up (if they wanted it) of each part of the process. After that, I took 2-3 kids at a time and had them go through the 7 Steps on their own teeth with my help. I was channeling my dentist the whole time. I had on rubber gloves, corrected their brushing so that it was a steady circular motion, I even had trouble understanding them when my hands were in their mouths helping them floss...but that may have been the English-Arabic language barrier. All I needed was KING 98.1 FM gently playing in the background...and maybe some "Where's Waldo?" books in the lobby, I mean my office. This meant that I did the 7 Steps at school today...but I did them four times. Once for each class. FOUR times...for a total of 28 Steps. My dentist told me that once a day is sufficient for great dental hygiene and if you're really on your game you can add in one or two more times of just straight brushing (1 step, not 7) after meals. Doing the 7 Steps more than once a day is unnecessary...and doing it 4 times in the space of 3 hours is plain ill advised (by me, I can't speak for my dentist). In the beginning, I was excited, fresh, and ready to share the life changing experience of totally awesome teeth. After the 5th step, for the third time, I was walking through the hallways muttering to myself "I don't WANNA floss my teeth!"...this would be disturbing all on its own, but add to your mental image of me a mouth full of purply-bluish toothpaste froth. A plaque revealing q-tip thingy (I would explain more, but I'm tired and really want to watch some JAG, and I'm pretty sure no one has read this far anyway, except Dad) was included in the dental hygiene packs. You break the tip of the Q-tip and dye saturates the cotton, then you spread it on your teeth, wait 10 seconds, gently rinse with water and then look in a mirror. Any new plaque (by the way, plaque is a soft, sticky film that forms on your teeth every day...it's bacteria poop) is revealed as bright pink and old plaque shows up as a lovely lavender (but dark lavender) on your teeth and gums. It comes off with brushing, but it turns all the foam in your mouth a lovely purply-blue, as stated above.
By the fourth reveal step, any plaque was long gone and the only pink thing the kids could find in my mouth was my gums, which they delightedly told me were very pink indeed. (They were a little disappointed to find out that gums are supposed to be pink) I just realized I never told you that actual steps that make up the 7 Steps.
1. Lather up all your teeth with toothpaste.
2. Stim-U-Dent in between all your teeth
3. Thoroughly brush all of your teeth (this step should take about 2 minutes)
4. Floss your teeth (with the toothpaste still on)
5. Rinse...finally.
6. Thoroughly brush your teeth again using a small amount of toothpaste and a soft bristle toothbrush.
7. Rinse again.
(Again, I highly recommend visiting www.7dentalsteps.com, I basically brush my teeth so that I can imagine they are as happy as the teeth cartoons on the website...and good breath...of course.)
So multiply those by four and you have my day today. The end result is that my teeth certainly feel clean...maybe too clean. Right now, more than 7 hours after my last brushing, my mouth still feels like its foaming, as though the toothpaste somehow seeped into my gums and teeth and made me a mutant...whose only super power is to foam at the mouth and not have rabies. It's like my teeth are actively repelling any food or drink that may try to get stuck. And my gums feel tender. Maybe this was too much information, but I want to be clear with everyone...you CAN brush you teeth too many times in one day. Stick with the 7 Steps, but only do them once...unless you want to join my new Justice League of Hygiene. Alright, so that's enough for now. I think I will go wash my face, NOT brush my teeth, watch some JAG, knit a hat or blanket (not all tonight), and go to bed.

Chapter 23: Burn, Baby, Burn...

Alright, so my posting is not as regular as before, but I'm settling in...once I'm fully settled, I'll be back on my A-game. One reason I haven't posted this week is because Mom and I are working out every day when we get home from school. For the past three days (I'm including today) we have gotten home at 5 or later (due to language lessons, all the female teachers visiting S's house, and a visit to the giant mall for various items). But why I haven't written isn't important...the exercising, that's what's important. After rowing competitively for eight years and then doing next to nothing in the exercise department for about a year and a half, I'm back in the game!...and I'm forcing Mom to play too. We using balance balls, which somehow make workouts feel more like playtime (I think it's because I harbor a secret hope that one day Mom and I will duct tape handles onto the balls and have a demolition derby around the apartment...or maybe I just like bouncing). We use workout DVDs, which are quite helpful and provide us with many opportunities to comment on/lament over our current situation (please read: we often tell the leader lady to go to Jericho...but in a more colorful manner...hint hint...wink wink...nudge nudge...I think that's it, unless someone else can think of another hinting type motion/movement). But now, I'm crazy hungry (I know, abrupt subject change) and I have to occupy myself until dinner and all this typing and writing takes too much thinkings. Maybe I'll go watch some JAG and knit a hat...yeah, that sounds nice.

Chapter 22: I AM INVINCIBLE!

Indeed, ladies and gentlemen of the blog, I feel like I could climb every mountain and ford every stream (however, I refrain from following rainbows to find my dream), and it's all due to my (well, Mom and my) victory over the blinking DSL light. For those of you who don't know, Mom and I are back in the Holy Land. We were in the States for about 2 and a half months, hanging out with family, visiting Claire (my sister...if anyone reading actually needed that clarification, who are you?) in Costa Rica (which is NOT an island), resting in Old Man Rzegocki's (Walter's) man cave (where we spent the majority of one day watching the entire BBC "Pride & Prejudice" miniseries on Blu-ray), and playing with Vivian. She has a habit of looking up at one and saying, "I hold you" when she wants you to pick her up and I have come to the conclusion that she is either messing up the words she wants to use or (and we all know an italicized or means I like the second option better) she's offering a deal that if I hold her now, she will in turn metaphorically hold me, support me when I am older. But she's offered that deal to so many people, she'll have to win Mega Millions multiple times to follow through on her end. Basically, she's awesome. Let's see...what else did we/I do...hmmmmmmmmmm...cool stuff. OH! I went to Austin to visit Caitlandia (super duper fun) and Kristin came to Seattle for the first time (also super duper fun times) and many other exciting times were had. But I can't think of them now and those that I can think of are not as engaging as I might hope. So, the moral of the ramble is that Mom and I were in the States, but are now back in yon Holy Land (we will have been here a week this Friday).
I'm sure you're all saying "She's been there almost a week and hasn't written any posts...SCANDALOUS!"(you're all saying this in the self-centered part of my brain...the one where everyone's world revolves around my shining countenance). But I have a very good excuse, our internet connection was on the fritz and by on the fritz, I mean gone, missing, broken, no good, non existent, super sucky. At the beginning of the week, I called our service provider trying to figure out what was wrong. The technical support guy and I tried many exciting things to fix our problem...but each time they failed...and each time, I sank deeper and deeper into the depths of despair (despite what Morilla Cuthbert had said). It was clear that the problem was beyond our capabilities and we would need outside help from...a technichian! My ever helpful friend at technical support scheduled me for an appointment on Wednesday between 10 and 12, making a notation in my file that I had requested someone with English skills as my Hebrew is limited to hello and thank you. Wednesday came and Mom and I stayed home to meet the technician. 10 o'clock...no technician. 12 o'clock...no technician. At 12:30, I steeled myself and called the company who was supposedly sending our repair man. I had to steel myself because the answering service is in Hebrew (I think they also had Russian and Arabic as options, but I'm not sure) and as I mentioned, my Hebrew is severely lacking. The only number I can identify with confidence is 2 (shtein...or shteim...something like that), so I blindly press buttons, hoping against hope that I am being connected with a human being and not adding seven new phone lines to our account. After half an hour on hold, I finally made it to a person and informed him of my situation. He attempted to help me, calling the technician to no avail, but in the end he said the best he could do was leave a message. I politely informed him not to worry, that I would be calling back in another hour or two if no one had arrived, then I thanked him and hung up. 2:30...still no repair man. Another round of "Guess the Operator Number!" is begun and 40 minutes later, I have a human being on the phone. But the result is the same. Time passes (in one day I watched all of the Futurama movies, finished a baby blanket, and started rewatching the first season of "Burn Notice"), I keep checking in with our service provider, polite yet insistent. At 5:15, while I'm on the phone with the technical support people yet again, I get a call on my local cell phone from...the repair guy! In my excitement to nail him down and get him to our apartment, I shoved the other phone at Mom (the one with the technical support people) who took it willingly, but with a rather bewildered expression. WIth a combination of broken English and Arabic, I was able to direct him to the right place and he got to work. Mom, on the other hand, was having some difficulty finishing the conversation that I had started on the other line. Over an hour and multiple calls on multiple cell phones later, our DSL light had ceased it's sassy winking behavior and returned to it's regular beacon of hope solidity. I yelped for joy and profusely thanked the repair guy, who had called me on the phone to confirm that our service was now running. After many hours and many phone calls and many minutes spent on hold, we had finally triumphed. I celebrated by watching movie trailers on Apple Trailers...it was delightful. And now that I have reached an acceptable conclusion and length, I will leave you and go watch some more Burn Notice...it's strangely addictive.

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.