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January 6, 2006

December 17-January 6

Well folks, we finally discovered something that Christian likes more than super sweet carbonated beverages and partially hydrogenated snacks. While attending a showing of the “critically acclaimed” 3-D Imax movie, “Santa Versus the Snowman, Amy leaned over to offer him some root beer or popcorn and he didn’t even acknowledge her and continued to stare at the array of various objects floating before him. About thirty seconds after the movie ended, when he had come to again, he asked us for some ice cream and we knew we had our little boy back. The movie impacted him in other ways as well. Days later, when a hired Kris Kringle waltzed around our local grocery store (at 8 o’ clock at night!) handing out candy to good girls and boys, we asked Christian who the stranger was. He replied without hesitation, “It’s Santa-guy!”

Santa’s elves stayed up late on Christmas Eve, putting the finishing touches on Henry’s brand new plastic car and wrapping the last few family gifts. The stockings hung on our pub mirror with care were filled by you-know-who, and afterwards Amy and I pulled out the ol’ air mattress and camped out at the foot of our pre-lit polymer Christmas “tree.”

Despite the absence of snow falling, snow on the ground, or air temperatures cold enough for snow, we made due. On Christmas morning, we put on our favorite Christmas album, and watched the mad undoing of all the hard work we—-er, Santa’s elves had put into wrapping gifts. The flagship present was the aforementioned toy car. Christian commandeered it for the first few hours of Christmas morning, driving it Flintstone-style up to an imaginary gas pump and saying, “Fill it with special,” an exact replica of what mommy and daddy tell the attendants here in Dubai when we gas up the car! When Christian was finally distracted with his new tricycle, Henry took the wheel as it were. But, in his usual bid to do it his way, he kept entering the car in classic Dukes-of-Hazard style on the side of the car with the door that doesn’t open. After a few tries, including a slide out of the car through the door that does open, he figured it out and got in the car like a civilized person.

We debated whether it was too early to give Henry the toy car, seeing as he has taken a few steps, but much prefers to crawl; but it turned out to not be premature at all. In fact, in these last few days, he has started to walk more than just a few steps. And he actually pulls himself up so that he can walk. We are convinced this is a direct result of our keen and perceptive parenting, although Henry is probably equally confident of his independence in the matter. Either way, he’s walking now, so it’s a whole new world all over again.

After dutifully carting all the cardboard, paper, and plastic to the recycling bins, we left to accept a second invitation to a holiday dinner that we were not willing to cook ourselves. Amy has finally made the determination that cooking a huge meal for a family of four is not her idea of a holiday. At dinner, I spilled a few green beans onto the floor and emphatically apologized in an attempt to show Christian what he should do in similar situations. Christian said, “It’s okay, daddy. Just don’t do it again. And we’ll laugh at you while you clean it up.” This same host keeps a Hindi-speaking parakeet in their home and its loud squawk scares the living daylights out of Henry. Slow exposure really is the solution to these kind of fears, however: by the time Christmas dinner was over, Henry was communicating with the bird through a series of his own clicks: an anthropologist in the making.

* * * *

We spent the days after Christmas Day the way I’m sure many of you did—finishing off the fudge, trying to get the mental energy to return to the office, and watching the boys explore their new toys. Perhaps the one difference was that we were, at the same time, getting psyched about our trip to Jordan. We have some friends living in Amman, whom we’ve wanted to see for some time, and Amy wanted Rich to see some of the sites she had just come back from three weeks prior. So, three hours after picking up another friend, Naomi--who came to Dubai to visit us--we were back at the airport catching a flight to Amman on January 31st.

We went straight from the Cinnabon in Queen Alia International Airport to the Dead Sea. Now, Jordan is in the Middle East for sure; but it does not boast scorching daytime temps like Dubai. Our friend in Amman picked us up at the airport wearing a mid-length pea coat and a sweater on underneath. So I thought a quick gander at the saltiest body of water on earth would be sufficient. But Amy encouraged us to at least take a dip. We suited up and braved the corrosive, chilly waters. It ended up being surprisingly warm, and immersing ourselves in such strange liquid was quite an experience. Besides the salt, the Dead Sea is so chock-full of minerals, that you can’t quite call the water ‘water.’ It’s more like mineral water—it has a slightly oily feel to it and it beads up on your skin. The salinity really does make for an amazing swimming experience, too. You literally cannot stay in a vertical position in the water. You could get quite a workout trying to keep your various body parts from floating. As I was not interested in getting a workout, I let the magical waters push my body to the surface and just splashed around. Our visit to the Dead Sea, not only the saltiest but also the lowest place on earth, was representative of our underachiever life philosophy. Now when anybody tells us they’ve climbed to the top of Mt. Everest, we have an equally impressive feat to report!

Rather than walking a few hundred meters to a taxi stand, we accepted the offer of a waitress at the seaside restaurant to get a ride from her friend at half-price. Her friend turned out to be a somewhat amorous vegetable transporter. We hopped into the passenger seats of his van which had an enormous bouquet of yellow, silk roses on the dashboard; an equally large lace-fringed, red pillow with the words, “I love you” embroidered on the center glued to the ceiling of the van; and about two dozen crates of tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, and a rather intimidating banana stalk in the rear of the van! We greeted him and he said, “No English,” pointed to the pillow, and said, “I love you” with a big smile on his face.

Halfway through our trip, he detoured onto an unpaved side road. All three of us simultaneously thought, “We are going to die at the hands of a vegetable farmer in the middle of the Jordanian desert.” When I turned and looked at him in fearful confusion, he pointed to the main road and said, “Police,” and we realized this crusty old Jordanian eggplant farmer knew where all the speed traps and checkpoints are and how to avoid them, too. Back on the road, we were safely returned to Amman and thanked Nasser for the friend-of-waitress discount.

We had a festive taco dinner at our friend’s home that night and played “Set” and “Catchphrase” to ring in the new year. The tiny alleyway in front of our friend’s apartment building was jammed with honking traffic from 11:55 PM through 1 AM. We were a bit surprised to see so many celebrants of the Christian new year, especially considering the Arabic new year isn’t for another month. By no means, however, did we turn down the firework shows over Amman city suburbs.

On our second day in Jordan, Amy stayed back in Amman while Naomi and I joined some of our other friends to go to Petra. Petra is the site of an ancient city carved out of rocky canyon walls not unlike Bryce Canyon. You may not know it, but many of you have seen Petra: it’s pictured the final scenes of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Anyway, it’s as gorgeous as it is fascinating as it is tiring. The monastery is at the top of an 800-step staircase, parts of which are treacherously narrow. Some steps later and you are at the summit overlooking Jordanian farms, the Jordan River and part of the Dead Sea.

Our final day in Jordan was the high point of the trip. We went to two millenia-old churches, each of which had spectacular mosaics that have only recently been discovered underneath the centuries-old tile floors. The first mosaic has gained some notoriety as the Madaba Mosaic Map. It’s a rather sophisticated map (for its time) of the middle eastern world, including Jerusalem, the Mediterranean Sea, and Mount Sinai. It is truly a beautiful piece of art as well as historically interesting. We also went to Mount Nebo, the site where Moses looked out over ancient Palestine before he “vanished.” From the top of the mount, Jericho (the most ancient city in the world still in existence) can be seen. In the distance, Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives are barely visible. The church atop Mount Nebo also has an impressive ancient mosaic, and Pope John Paul II came here to pray only five years before us.

We ended the day touring the area of the Jordan River close to the Dead Sea. Here, historians have designated possible sites for the ascension of Elijah and the baptism of Jesus. Only ten years ago, these sites were inside a military-protected zone and tourists were not allowed in. This day, we hopped on a tour bus and breezed pass a single checkpoint. The tour also takes visitors to a place where the river still flows, nearby the baptismal site which has long since dried up. Tourists are invited to fill water bottles, touch the water, or even get baptized, under the watchful eye of an armed Jordanian soldier, of course. A Russian man and his son changed into swimming trunks and meandered into brown water. They made sure to close their mouths while dunking themselves three times each. (Baptism is supposed to be a an outward symbol of cleansing, but baptism in the Jordan River, I can tell you, could hardly represent becoming clean!)

Jordan was amazing, and we still have yet to go scuba diving in Aqaba, visit the Roman ruins in Jerash, or camp out Bedouin style in Wadi Rum! So I’m sure we’ll go back to Jordan soon. Additionally, we spoke to a friend who currently lives in Damascus. By her description (as well as several others who have confirmed it), Syria is even more interesting. So now we have that to add to our list of places to visit.

We returned from Jordan and started to look forward to a five-day weekend commemorating Eid al-Adha and Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. After only a day and a half back in the office, the ruler of Dubai, Sheikh Maktoum, passed away. The local government declared three days of mourning during which government offices would be closed, radio and television would broadcast only mourning chants, and entertainment and merriment would be avoided at all costs. Lucky us: this closure was tacked onto our five-day break, making it ten-day weekend!

To celebrate, Amy, Christian and I went with Naomi on a desert safari. After a thrilling ride in a 4×4 on the red sand dunes outside the city, we stopped at a Bedouin camp to eat a traditional dinner (grilled chicken, lamb chops, rice, and hummus), ride on camels, and dress in local garb. It was a lot of fun and Christian impressed everyone with his good behavior. Each time we told him to behave, he said, “I’n are being-have.” As a reward, we let Christian get a temporary “tattoo” of a beetle on his forearm, which he proudly showed to Henry the next morning.

We miss you all and hope you have a wonderful new year. May we all visit the gym at least half as many times as we intend to this year.
Movie Quote: “I run twenty miles a day. Would you believe it? Twenty miles a day. Okay, how about two miles a day? Would you believe two miles a day? How about two push-ups and a deep breath?” Maxwell Smart, in “Get Smart Again.”

January 27, 2006

January 7 - January 27

Happy Arabic New Year to you all! Since we are officially starting the New Year here on Monday, I thought I would begin by working on one of my New Year’s resolutions: writing a family blog. The nice thing about having two new years in January three weeks apart is that by the time the second one comes around, you can scratch off all of the resolutions you now realize you never had any intention of keeping, and you can get a bit more realistic. For example, my earlier resolution of working out at the gym everyday has been replaced by a program of daily deep breathing with an occasional pushup. No sense setting yourself up for failure has always been my motto.

Okay, so other than Rich becoming the designated jerk of the month in the local tabloid here, (a fact that he is a perhaps just a little too proud of), we are doing really well. Amy has started a new semester teaching American Literature at the American University here, and has already broken the bad news to her students that the readings on the syllabus are not merely “suggestions,” as they had heretofore supposed. Christian and Henry have seen more of their daddy this month, and Rich and I had a chance to take up a new hobby: mosaic making. It’s basically using a really big pair of pliers to crush up a perfectly good ceramic tile into thousands of tiny pieces, and then gluing them back together again on top of a piece of wood. Okay, it’s not quite that lame, but for a craft-challenged individual like myself, I have much vested in making fun of projects that I will either never finish or never even start. It looks like this project will take at least a good third of my lifetime to finish, after which it will find a nice home in either the mudroom or the back of the garage. Rich’s piece, on the other hand, is coming along quite nicely. At least he can’t cross-stitch better than I can, or should I say at least he can’t cross-stitch at all?

Henry is making some great verbal progress. His newest addition to his two word-vocabulary is “yeah,” spelled, “yeeaah.” He has realized that it is an appropriate response after anyone’s voice goes up at the end of a sentence. The problem is he has no idea what the question is, so it’s hard for him to know when “yeah” is actually a valid response: Henry, do you want to eat bugs? “Yeeaah.” Henry, is that a rhinoceros? “Yeeaah.” Henry, do you want us to beat you within an inch of your life? “Yeeaah.” He also knows uh-oh and uh-uh (meaning no), and he always shakes his head back and forth for emphasis on that one just to make sure we know he doesn’t want whatever it is he’s being offered. Henry is also becoming master shape-sorter and pan banger. His favorites toys are old batteries, broken flashlights (well, they didn’t used to be broken), and a variety of recyclable garbage (you know, old milk cartons, crushed up boxes of breakfast cereal, empty cans of cream of mushroom soup, etc.). If he lives to be three, he’s going to have one heck of an immune system.

Henry has also officially become the newest member of the biped family, as he now prefers walking to crawling and has the scrapes to show for it. One of his favorite activities is taking all the cushions off of the couches in the living room (with a lot of help from his older brother, of course), scattering them around the room, and then flinging himself over the back of the sofa onto the metal springs below. I’m not sure why this seems like so much fun or even a good idea, but I guess that’s the workings of the male toddler mind.

Speaking of the older brother, Christian is becoming very helpful when it comes to Henry. He feeds Henry all the stuff he doesn’t like on his own dinner plate (which is almost everything that is on there), and he loves to turn out the lights and turn on the musical bear in Henry’s crib (courtesy Alicia and Garry) when Henry is going to sleep. I think it gives Christian great satisfaction to see and/or force Henry to do all the things that he doesn’t want to do. He’s going to make a damn fine parent one of these days.

Christian is also learning a lot about the adult world. He has started to catch on to mommy and daddy’s tricks to evade his requests. For example, in order to discourage him from asking us to get all the adult games down for him to rummage through and make a mess with, we used to tell him that those games were boring. Now, whenever he wants to play with them, he tells us that he wants to play the boring game re re bad. He is developing quite a collection of bedtime stories and loves to be read to. Even though he is very good at keeping the variety coming in general, he often gets stuck on those annoying books you bought at that garage sale because they were only 25 cents, and demands to read those night and day. A good example is the Muffin family books where Maxi and his little sister Minni get into scrapes that Mommi and Poppi help them out of using good old fashioned Christian values with a less than subtle emphasis on traditional gender roles. While Poppi only looks at Maxi’s messy room, delivers a sarcastic response, throws up his hands, and walks away, Mommi is the one who, while putting away Maxi’s shirts she just ironed, is stuck with actually doing something about the pigsty. It’s times like this that I realize 25 cents was an outrageous price to pay for a book that merely mimics the reality of own family dynamic. The bright spot of this book is listening to Christian come up with variants on Maxi’s name since he can’t really say the letter X. (My favorite is Masksi—it’s like ski mask, only backwards.)

Christian is learning a lot in primary class on Sundays as well. When we asked him who made his body on the way home from church last week, he thought about it for a minute, and then said, “somebody else.” His obsession with motorbikes continues to be fed by a month-long fair at the nearby park complete with motorized motorbikes and a tire-lined mototrack. He keeps telling us that when he grows up he is going to put a helmet and gloves on and ride his motorbike, and we keep saying, “over our dead bodies.” Henry responds with, “Yeeah.” He is also becoming a brave little zip-line rider and waterslide patron.

Okay, that’s about it for all of us. Hope you all are doing well. Our movie quote is in response to Iran’s latest crazy kook and his kookish ideas and claims.

“Well, you have got to be the toughest, talkin’ blowhard I ever heard.” “Support Your Local Sheriff”