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).

Chapter 19: VICTORY!

Oh yes, that's right. Mom and I successfully named one of Nuush's kittens. By successfully I mean, we started calling the cat by the name we thought fit it, Wassim, the youngest son, told Lily about it, and when Lily heard us calling the cat, she said "Halas, it's finished. That is his name." (You're all dying to know what it is...aren't you?) So tonight, (don't worry, I'm getting there) after I helped Mom start dinner (awesome hamburgers, tomato-mozzarella-pecan salad...which doesn't sound so healthsome...and special potatoes), I went out to the front steps to hang out with my cat posse. I couldn't see them at first because a) it was dark and b) they're freaking cats, but seconds after I sat down they slipped out of the shadows and scampered up to me. There was little Alonzo, Kautuna the only sister (Kautuna means 'small drop' in Arabic), and....Shaq. Indeed, ladies and gentlemen of the...blog?, Mom and I dubbed the largest of the kittens, the one who still did not have a name (Alonzo is the smallest and most beloved of the kittens by Lilly and the boys...and Moin (Lilly's husband if I hadn't explained yet) and so they named him first, then Kautuna...and Shaq was left nameless for months until Mom and I stepped in), the most, how shall I say...badawesome (combination of bad ass and awesome...still needs some work) Shaq, Shaq Daddy, Diesel, the Big Aristotle, etc, etc, etc. It gives us great pleasure to call him by name, and to hear Lilly and the boys use it too (actually, it's definitely more fun to hear Lilly call for Shaq Daddy). Walter, we hope you approve our name choice, he is deserving, I promise!
So yeah, even though his name isn't Gwynedd Jr, or Kristin Jr., or, God forbid, Nemo, it is Shaq...almost the best name in the world...besides Grizz and DotCom of course.

Chapter 18: The Recap

Sooo...here's what's happened so far this week-
1. Monday was a sick day...Mom was sick and I was her crafty nurse (crafty because I finished knitting a blanket and worked on a needlepoint case for glasses...not the cool kind of crafty)
2. Tuesday we were back at school but we ate out for dinner and came home late (7:30...P.M.! I mean, that's late for normal people right...never mind, I don't want to discuss it) and I had only enough strength to watch the preview for Toy Story 3 (sorry, I just took time out to post the trailer on Claire's facebook page...because there's some spanish in it) aaaaaand the new episode of How I Met Your Mother...but then I was drained and had to go to bed.
3. Today - pretty normal day at school. We had hotdogs for lunch, that was awesome, but then I ate two of them and that was not nearly as awesome. I can't figure out what new craft project I should work on. I just finished a giant (well, not giant, but certainly the biggest project I've ever done) lap blanket (pictures to be posted at another time). It's still excessively hot and humid over here. I'm talking so hot and sweaty that I was literally blinded (very temporary of course) by sweat in my eyes when I was walking through the IKEA parking lot looking for our car. This was bad because 1) Mom wasn't walking with me, but instead waiting for me to come back to her to help move the rest of our stuff, 2) blindly stumbling through a parking lot in the Holy Land is like holding up a giant Wyle E. Coyote sized sign that says "Please run me over...or at least bump me around a bit", and 3) I was carrying the already assembled (we bought the floor model) bookcase for my office at school. I have taken to pinning up my hair (averaging about 15 bobby pins), BBC Jane Austen miniseries style...minus the corkscrew and sausage curls...pretty much any curls at all. Mom has taken to calling me Jane when I do this and the guards (okay, just one guard) at the checkpoint have taken to giving me the once over when we go through (they may just be comparing my passport picture with my actual face, but it does my self esteem good to think about it the other way). And now I am deeply thirsty. Did I mention my office is a modified porch (instead of being open it has giant landscape windows...that I once crushed a finger in...but great views, seriously) on the second floor that gets great light...which will be fantastic in the winter but essentially means I work on the surface of the sun. In the afternoons, when I write my lesson plans, it's so bright that I have to wear my sunglasses, just so I'm not blinded by the spiral notebook I write in. I've been drinking cups and cups of water all day and I'm still thirsty. Truly a dangerous situation. I should go fix that. Until tomorrow...

Chapter 17: Excitement on the...School Grounds

(High seas sounds so much better than School Grounds, but no such venue was available) Today's post is devoted to young Lucy, a girl/character I introduced a few posts ago. As I mentioned before, Lucy is rather petite, but what she lacks in stature she makes up in character...loads and loads of character. Lucy is a talker, a squealer (not in the I-testified-against-my-criminal-friends sense, but more wow that girl can squeal), a hugger, a teacher, a helper, and a director. She is an in-control type of gal, essentially the female Napoleon...but nicer. (On a side note, I recently looked up the definition for ellipsis "..." , because I'm teaching one of my students about punctuation, and I was disturbed to see just how shamefully I have abused and misused this grammatical tool...of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop.) And when she's got you in her sights, prepared to be dazzled, and a little bit dazed. We need two other people, besides myself and Lucy, to make this story complete, K and S, the Business and Academic Administrators respectively. I will leave a more in depth description of these two for later, for now all you need to know is that both are parents. And now we have all our dramatis personae (is that how it's supposed to look?)
(Oh, I just remembered! If you scroll down to the post about Palm Sunday you can see a picture of S, she's in the argyle sweater on the right...I am on the far left in case you were wondering)
So, it's lunch time at school and all of the kids are lining up at the two bathrooms to wash their hands and use the restroom (hopefully in reverse order from what I typed) before breaking bread together in their homerooms (today was felafel sandwiches made with love by Abu A and S and mint tea steeped with love by yours truly...I am indeed back in Lunchlady Land). S and K were working crowd control outside the bathrooms, letting one kid in at a time (perhaps I should explain, the bathrooms are single occupancy. Also, they are in the middle of the school...I just took some time out to sketch a floor plan of the pertinent part of school...the first floor of the upper school. It is not at all to scale, but at least it will give you an idea of what I'm talking about...now I just have to load it onto the computer...and here it is, I think)
Okay, so, the Xs mark the two bathrooms in question and the X that is underlined twice marks the specific bathroom that features in our story.
Lucy entered the bathroom, when it was her turn of course, with her customary style and sashays...and slammed the door. (this is not unusual...unfortunately for mine ears) Meanwhile, I am taking this time to deliver a tray of sandwiches, a pitcher of mint tea, and hot cups of tea (these are for the teachers, in their chosen mugs, and with the desired spoonfuls of sugar) to each classroom, which means that I am constantly criss-crossing the main hallway and aware of what is happening around the beehive that is the bathrooms. It was on my last trip back to the kitchen (I had just delivered the last cup of tea to the English teacher Miss G) when I became aware of trouble...with a capital T. The crowd had died down and S was trying to wrench open the door of the bathroom she was directing kids into and out of. Not only was she shaking the door, but she was speaking with great passion to whoever was inside. Strange yes, but then...K cruised by me wielding a giant squeegee (the kind they use to wash floors here)...curiouser and curiouser for K does not usually carry a squeegee with him for comfort during lunch hour. I couldn't hear any response from inside the bathroom to S's possible questions, mournful sobs from somewhere were drowning out any sound...but wait, the sobs were coming from inside the bathroom! And I knew that voice to be Lucy's! At this point, S turned to me with quiet desperation in her eyes and explained the situation as she saw it. When Lucy had slammed the door she had somehow locked herself in (we think the deadbolt that is near the top of the door jiggled and stuck...and Lucy was completely unable to reach it to let herself out). There was no other way in or out, the window for the bathroom is about one foot square and it has bars over it. S, with the fire of a mother in her eyes, told me to "Stay here (very strong finger point at the exact place she wants me to stand). I will go get her!" So I stayed put and was eventually rewarded when the door popped open (K had used the handle of the squeegee to slide the bolt over and unlock the door) and a very tearstained Lucy was revealed. It took a little while, but Lucy recovered from her traumatic ordeal (partially because of the attention, the tissues, the two huge stickers stars I had her choose from my stash...I also like to think my mint tea had a calming effect on her) and was her old self again, sprinting and squealing all the way down the football field.
This was not the only adventure of today, for I also bought, baked, and decorated a birthday cake in record time (with Mom's assistance, of course). But I think that one story is enough for today...and I want to watch the new episode of Bones. Honestly, what's a girl to do...except end her post and drink some spectacular juice?

Chapter 16: Compare and Contrast

But here's how it really happened (one of my favorite lines from Clue)
1) Went downstairs to check on the staff meeting
2) Drank some water
3) Worked on my secret project
4) Had my 3rd lesson with S
5) Drove S home
6) Hung out with S, her 3 boys, her sister, her aunt, and Mom. Had Coke, awesome salted seeds, and tea with sugar and sage. No juice was served.
7) Drove at moderately high speeds past the Canyon Mall, over Summer camp bridge and down the road to Cinematheque (which Hen told us was actually called White...this will make sense only to Dad)
8) Had a 3 hour tour of appetizers, dinner and desserts
9) Ran back to the guest house to grab some parting gifts for Joey and Hen, but mostly Hen
10) Led Joey and Hen towards the Begin north..by car...not wagon train
11) Came back to the guest house
12) Went directly to bed...collecting no money along the way
13) Slept through the night...no interruptions. I don't even think I moved...which is definitely not like me.
Mom and I are working hard on our secret project (we were given a directive by Claire many moons ago and are currently trying to do the foundation work necessary for it...all will be revealed in time)...and that sentence doesn't go anywhere. Today I walked our Lily's dog, Blackie. It was nice and also uncomfortable. I get the feeling women are not supposed to walk dogs in our neighborhood, certainly not enormous black dogs that come up to said lady's waist. Veiled women were crossing to the other side of the street, men and children were alternately cat calling are sending me dirty looks, even the wild dogs that hang out around the dumpster gave us a wide berth. However one teenage boy was happy to see us. He started talking to me in Arabic, I told him I wasn't nearly good enough for that yet, and then I asked if it was okay for me to be walking Blackie. He said, "for me it is okay, but for the people here...it is not okay" and then he called Blackie by name, gave him some cuddles and scratches and then rode his bike alongside us until we were out of the neighborhood. What a gentleman. On the way back, when I was sans escort, some little kids tried to mess with us, one in particular. But his attempts were so halfhearted, so lacking in inspiration, that both Blackie and I looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and disdain. Needless to say (and yet I say it anyway), I was happy to get back to the guest house and help Mom with dinner preparations (Special Potatoes take time, effort, and love...they don't just magically appear...they're not those kind of potatoes). I apologize for my low standards of whimsy and amusement today...I think it's because I need to take a shower. (uh oh, I can here Lily talking to the neighbor and I keep hearing the words "Blackie" "Americani" and "anjad?!?!" crop up...anjad means "really"...I did have permission to walk Blackie, but I got it from one of the boys, not their mother...granted the "boys" are 27, 22, and 18 and I got it from the oldest, but I think I'm in for talking to...)