Jeff knows how much I miss being outside with Elena. When we were in Seattle this past summer, I took Elena out in her bassinet everyday and walked around our neighborhood, which has numerous walking trails, and a couple of parks and a library that I used as "destinations" or the halfway point of our walks.
Now that Elena is crawling, I would love to have a park to go to, just to sit on a blanket and let her explore the grass and give her some different stimulation than just our living room or that of the other moms houses we go to.
After a few days in the 80s, a sandstorm came through and ever since then it has only been in the high 60s, low 70s. I've been wanting to take advantage of this weather since once it heats up we can no longer spend any time outdoors. At this time last year, it was already very hot, so I feel like this weather is not going to last.
Anyway, the other day Jeff took us to a park that he discovered. I didn't know that when I took Elena to visit a friend last week, he spent the morning driving all around the area. As small as the island is, and as much exploration as I did back before the baby was born, there are many nooks and crannies and I still haven't seen every inch of this place yet.
This park actually has the framework for a great park, but it has sadly been neglected and therefore, is very sad. There is a paved walking trail, playground equipment, and is by the water. There is a lot of sand though, so on the windy day we were there we walked with the wind and made the best of it. It's oddly unpopulated though, but I guess no interest in this park is why it hasn't been kept up.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
It's come to this...
The definition of "public park" in Bahrain is vastly different from any idea of a public park that I normally have. The few places to walk outside are dirt paths alongside busy streets. So awhile back, I discovered a huge, empty parking lot that belongs to a new amusement park being constructed right now. The amusement park was not yet open, so the parking lot was always empty. In fact, the entrance was barricaded with a guard standing by, but we would park at the gas station across the way and push the stroller over and the guard would let us enter by foot and the three of us would have this parking lot to ourselves-- with the exception of the workers, who thought we were crazy since I know they'd never seen a family in there walking for recreation.
The other day, we decided to walk around there again, since the weather has been comfortable enough to walk out in the open without any shade, but it was a different guard and he was strict! He wouldn't let us in, no matter what.
We were bummed and drove home, since the only other place to walk would have been the mall, but it was the weekend and the mall would be shoulder-to-shoulder crowded. On the way home Jeff said, "Can you believe we're disappointed we can't walk around a parking lot?"
Um no, actually I can't, gee how our perspective (and standards) have changed!
The other day, we decided to walk around there again, since the weather has been comfortable enough to walk out in the open without any shade, but it was a different guard and he was strict! He wouldn't let us in, no matter what.
We were bummed and drove home, since the only other place to walk would have been the mall, but it was the weekend and the mall would be shoulder-to-shoulder crowded. On the way home Jeff said, "Can you believe we're disappointed we can't walk around a parking lot?"
Um no, actually I can't, gee how our perspective (and standards) have changed!
That's the reason?
The pediatricians here advocate giving infants Vitamin D supplements, but Elena's American pediatrician does not. Says they're not necessary. So when the dr's here couldn't really give a satisfactory answer to my question of why (I know, how obnoxious of me, who am I to say what's satisfactory in a medical answer?) I decided against giving the supplements.
The other day, this subject came up with my mom friends and one of them, whose husband is Bahraini, said the reason why children here need to supplement is because they do not spent any time in the sun. The culture keeps kids indoors, so they don't get exposure to sunlight for their bodies to make Vitamin D. Really? I know she's not an expert, but this seems like a plausible reason.
The other day, this subject came up with my mom friends and one of them, whose husband is Bahraini, said the reason why children here need to supplement is because they do not spent any time in the sun. The culture keeps kids indoors, so they don't get exposure to sunlight for their bodies to make Vitamin D. Really? I know she's not an expert, but this seems like a plausible reason.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
"But this was the best part!"
Elena said, after we breezed through the wildlife park in 45 minutes. (Ok, so it's a small park, we weren't expecting much.) We sat under the tent in the refreshment area to chill before we headed back home. If we don't strap Elena in the car seat, she will turn around in the seat and face backwards, grinning at the new perspective. So here Jeff is pushing her in the stroller while she squealed and yelped like some crazed charioteer. 
They don't have a caretaker for run-on sentences here...
We went to the Al-Areen Wildlife Park the other day. It is about a half hour drive south from where we live. It was stinky. It was brown. We saw many different types of goats, some flamingos, lots 'o birds, porcupines, and big turtles. It also had a section for native grasses and such. This is where I learned about Duranta, which I didn't know was a hedge plant that could be shaped for hedges.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
From here on out... the Blazing Sun!
It's been hovering in the 40s and 50s the past two months. People told me it would get cold in Bahrain, but I didn't believe them. And 40-50 degrees is not that bad to me... unless you don't have central heating in the house. And no insulation. And your house is made of concrete. Which is what I've been living through since, oh, around Christmastime. We live in a huge house with no heat! Jeff bought these oil-filled heaters which are great, if you are sitting right next to them. Without built-in fans they are pretty much useless in this place with, I don't know exactly how tall they are, 12' ceilings?
So pretty much overnight it went from wearing a sweatshirt weather to wearing a tank top weather. Today it hit 82 degrees. And I don't think it's going to cool back down. If I remember correctly, upon my arrival to the Eastern province of Saudi Arabia one year ago, it was already in the 80s.
I think it's time to ditch the heaters.
So pretty much overnight it went from wearing a sweatshirt weather to wearing a tank top weather. Today it hit 82 degrees. And I don't think it's going to cool back down. If I remember correctly, upon my arrival to the Eastern province of Saudi Arabia one year ago, it was already in the 80s.
I think it's time to ditch the heaters.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Coming to the M.E.
Jeff has always been defensive about our move to the Middle East. When people would say, "Gee, Pauline's a good sport about moving to the Middle East," he would always respond that it wasn't so bad, and then list out the 3 good things that we found here, and leave off the 3000 bad things we found here.
Almost all the other ex-pats I've met are happy here. Let me explain why.
Most ex-pats have a housing allowance that covers the rent and furniture for a 4-bedroom, 4-bath, at least 2000 sq ft house. Most of them get a free car while they are working here. If you sit back and think about it, where do most of your bills fall? In the housing and transportation categories. So with those out of the way, there's not much left to have to cover. Many people's incomes triple or even quadruple from what they would be making back home. For example, I know for a fact that the Brazilians have quadrupled their incomes and can freely drive around in a nice car without worrying about getting carjacked at a red light. It's paradise to them.
Most ex-pats stay in their field of expertise and the move to the Middle East is simply an enhancement to their career. No one moves over here to start over. And then there's us. I could not in good conscience stand in the way of my husband following his dream. I mean, everyone gives up on their dreams. I know that sounds cynical, but for most people, that's the truth. Many people have told me so, once they learn about our situation. So we are not typical ex-pats. Our house and furniture and cars are not covered by the company. His income dropped dramatically from his former career. We are here as a means to an end.
For me, this is temporary living. In no way am I preparing to stay here for years, like many of the other ex-pats I know. Jeff is constantly trying to be glass half full... and on my good days, I can be that way, too. But on my bad days, I have to tell him... let's get real. The Brazilians-- 3rd world country to another 3rd world country, but at least one without the murders and muggings. The South Africans-- dangerous political situation, corruption, fear for personal safety. The Western Europeans-- tripled and quadrupled their salaries, makes it easy to overlook the bad stuff. The Aussies and Kiwis-- ditto. So out of the scores of people I've met since moving here, I've only met two other Americans. One hates it here, and is only here because her husband's family is here. The other likes it here because she says it's a really easy life, but also her husband's family is here, too. The only other Americans here are military and they are here because they have to be!
The other day I was at a mom & baby group and we got to talking about America. I didn't know that these two other women, a South African and a Colombian, had briefly lived in the US a few years ago. Both of them confided that if they were able to get a permanent home in the US, that would be the #1 place both of them would choose to live. One of them said, "If I were you and had a home in America, I wouldn't be here!"
Of course I had to come home and repeat this conversation to Jeff verbatim. It just proves what I've known as soon as I moved here... no matter how unpopular America is, no matter how botched the government is, everyone still wants to live there!
I'm feeling homesick now and my morale is low. I'm coming up on my one-year anniversary of moving here but it has already been 1. 5 years since Jeff started with the company and I had agreed to commit to 2 years. Now Jeff's company has radically changed things and made it so that Jeff cannot achieve his goals for 4 years. I'm tired of the constant battling with his company and can't forsee having the endurance to continue for another 3 years.
Almost all the other ex-pats I've met are happy here. Let me explain why.
Most ex-pats have a housing allowance that covers the rent and furniture for a 4-bedroom, 4-bath, at least 2000 sq ft house. Most of them get a free car while they are working here. If you sit back and think about it, where do most of your bills fall? In the housing and transportation categories. So with those out of the way, there's not much left to have to cover. Many people's incomes triple or even quadruple from what they would be making back home. For example, I know for a fact that the Brazilians have quadrupled their incomes and can freely drive around in a nice car without worrying about getting carjacked at a red light. It's paradise to them.
Most ex-pats stay in their field of expertise and the move to the Middle East is simply an enhancement to their career. No one moves over here to start over. And then there's us. I could not in good conscience stand in the way of my husband following his dream. I mean, everyone gives up on their dreams. I know that sounds cynical, but for most people, that's the truth. Many people have told me so, once they learn about our situation. So we are not typical ex-pats. Our house and furniture and cars are not covered by the company. His income dropped dramatically from his former career. We are here as a means to an end.
For me, this is temporary living. In no way am I preparing to stay here for years, like many of the other ex-pats I know. Jeff is constantly trying to be glass half full... and on my good days, I can be that way, too. But on my bad days, I have to tell him... let's get real. The Brazilians-- 3rd world country to another 3rd world country, but at least one without the murders and muggings. The South Africans-- dangerous political situation, corruption, fear for personal safety. The Western Europeans-- tripled and quadrupled their salaries, makes it easy to overlook the bad stuff. The Aussies and Kiwis-- ditto. So out of the scores of people I've met since moving here, I've only met two other Americans. One hates it here, and is only here because her husband's family is here. The other likes it here because she says it's a really easy life, but also her husband's family is here, too. The only other Americans here are military and they are here because they have to be!
The other day I was at a mom & baby group and we got to talking about America. I didn't know that these two other women, a South African and a Colombian, had briefly lived in the US a few years ago. Both of them confided that if they were able to get a permanent home in the US, that would be the #1 place both of them would choose to live. One of them said, "If I were you and had a home in America, I wouldn't be here!"
Of course I had to come home and repeat this conversation to Jeff verbatim. It just proves what I've known as soon as I moved here... no matter how unpopular America is, no matter how botched the government is, everyone still wants to live there!
I'm feeling homesick now and my morale is low. I'm coming up on my one-year anniversary of moving here but it has already been 1. 5 years since Jeff started with the company and I had agreed to commit to 2 years. Now Jeff's company has radically changed things and made it so that Jeff cannot achieve his goals for 4 years. I'm tired of the constant battling with his company and can't forsee having the endurance to continue for another 3 years.
Nobody told me about this!
So I didn't know anything about babies before Elena was born. I didn't pay attention to baby-proofing because I thought it was so far away, for sure I had one to one and a half years before she would be getting into trouble.
I didn't know about crawling.
Elena has been crawling for one month now and at first, wasn't much of a problem because she moved slowly and I could divert her from any tricky situations.
But now, I turn away for 30 seconds and she has wriggled her hands into the dirt of the potted plants and smeared them on her pajamas. Now, she holds onto the couch cushion and pulls herself up to grab the t.v. remote controls and changes the settings. Now, her favorite game is going to the entertainment center and unearthing the jumble of electrical cords from under the pile of pillows we've placed on top of them, in our naive attempt of "out of sight, out of mind."
It's like once she's discovered crawling, she doesn't want to stop moving!
And forget baby-proofing in Bahrain; I don't think they've ever heard of this before. There's a sad little selection of products in the corner of the store to satisfy ex-pats, but that's about it. They cost about five times as much as they would in the States, so I'm not buying them as a matter of principle. I'm talkin', one doorway baby gate with a layer of dust on it gathered since 2005, and another one delivered to the island so long ago that it has lost its box and just sits there, propped against the wall, so forlorn without packaging.
I was reading something the other day and it mentioned professional baby-proofers! Please! That's the other extreme-- paying someone to come into your house to do this?? Only in America...
Friday, February 1, 2008
The Kiss Hello
It's no secret that I hate potlucks, the way they are forced upon you at the office by the suburban ladies who like to wear thick-gauge, holiday sweaters. It's no secret that I hate people who throw parties at their house but oh, by the way, everyone's bringing a dish, can you bring the salad? Why throw a party if you can't afford to host? Invite fewer people. And if you're simply too cheap to host, well then I don't want to be your friend anyway.
Allow me to give some context. When Jeff and I moved into this brand-new compound, we were one of two families occupying the premises for many months. Our neighbors were a lovely, childless, British couple and we often went to their house for dinner and parties because they loved to entertain. I went away with Elena in August, returned to Bahrain in October, and by then all 40 units were rented out and I came back to a barrage of new neighbors, all with multiple, mostly school-aged children. I simply could not keep track of these greasy, snot-nosed kids because there were so many of them and they all looked alike since each had at least two or three siblings. Let me note that 90% of these families are either Brits or Kiwis, and I'm not noting this because I'm prejudiced but because it will explain a little bit about why I don't have anything in common with them, why I find it hard to understand their English, and why these white faces initially thought I was the maid pushing Elena around in her stroller and wouldn't respond to my hellos. (Because they use Asian maids.)
Anyway, we live on a narrow street and it is now overflowing with screaming children. They play outside all day without supervision, do not get out of the way when a car approaches, they kick plastic 5-gallon buckets down the brick road, they bully my 6-year-old Hungarian neighbor girl about her English (I politely confronted the bullies to have them stop, but really just wanted to smash the ringleader's face in), but most irritatingly, they leave their bicycles in front of my garage and my front door. Oh, they're not singling me out-- there are at least 30 different bicycles in this compound and they drop them wherever they happen to be. So many times I have the urge to drive right over the bikes, but of course I don't. I get out of my car and pick up the bike and move it off to the side. And it just keeps happening, because I have no idea whose bikes these belong to and really have better things to do than to wait at my window to witness the live bike-dropping.
Well these neighbors all get on famously now, are chums, really, and there is a neighborhood get-together each Friday (the Middle East's Sunday) afternoon where everyone brings a dish. I've never attended. And just like Jerry Seinfeld when he objected to kissing hello to each of his lady neighbors, I have become a pariah.
What was my point? Oh yeah, tomorrow this German family is having a party to celebrate the birth of their 3rd child. Fliers were handed out. Everyone's excited. They ask me, are you going? I make up excuses, backed into the corner. The problem with making up excuses to your neighbors is that they can all see your car in the garage and the lights on in your house. You can't exactly lie.
Want to know what we, the guests, are being asked to do?
Allow me to give some context. When Jeff and I moved into this brand-new compound, we were one of two families occupying the premises for many months. Our neighbors were a lovely, childless, British couple and we often went to their house for dinner and parties because they loved to entertain. I went away with Elena in August, returned to Bahrain in October, and by then all 40 units were rented out and I came back to a barrage of new neighbors, all with multiple, mostly school-aged children. I simply could not keep track of these greasy, snot-nosed kids because there were so many of them and they all looked alike since each had at least two or three siblings. Let me note that 90% of these families are either Brits or Kiwis, and I'm not noting this because I'm prejudiced but because it will explain a little bit about why I don't have anything in common with them, why I find it hard to understand their English, and why these white faces initially thought I was the maid pushing Elena around in her stroller and wouldn't respond to my hellos. (Because they use Asian maids.)
Anyway, we live on a narrow street and it is now overflowing with screaming children. They play outside all day without supervision, do not get out of the way when a car approaches, they kick plastic 5-gallon buckets down the brick road, they bully my 6-year-old Hungarian neighbor girl about her English (I politely confronted the bullies to have them stop, but really just wanted to smash the ringleader's face in), but most irritatingly, they leave their bicycles in front of my garage and my front door. Oh, they're not singling me out-- there are at least 30 different bicycles in this compound and they drop them wherever they happen to be. So many times I have the urge to drive right over the bikes, but of course I don't. I get out of my car and pick up the bike and move it off to the side. And it just keeps happening, because I have no idea whose bikes these belong to and really have better things to do than to wait at my window to witness the live bike-dropping.
Well these neighbors all get on famously now, are chums, really, and there is a neighborhood get-together each Friday (the Middle East's Sunday) afternoon where everyone brings a dish. I've never attended. And just like Jerry Seinfeld when he objected to kissing hello to each of his lady neighbors, I have become a pariah.
What was my point? Oh yeah, tomorrow this German family is having a party to celebrate the birth of their 3rd child. Fliers were handed out. Everyone's excited. They ask me, are you going? I make up excuses, backed into the corner. The problem with making up excuses to your neighbors is that they can all see your car in the garage and the lights on in your house. You can't exactly lie.
Want to know what we, the guests, are being asked to do?
- Bring a gift for either the baby or the mom- gee thanks for letting me choose
- Bring a dish to share with everyone- it has to be Italian because it's an Italian-theme party
- Bring something to drink
- Bring your own glass in which to drink the drink that you brought
- Contribute 1BD ($2.65) toward the cake
- We have to call this other neighbor to tell her what dish we are bringing so there are no "duplicates"
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