I finally got around to putting our photos online. Well, not all of them. Actually only a few. We've got our vacations through Jordan and Egypt online now. To check out our online photo album click on the link below or click on the link to your right ------>
Two Bulls Flickr Photo Albums
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
Just a Reminder to Vote!
We have a baby doctor appointment coming up a week from Wednesday, on the 8th. I was tallying the votes from the our post about what you wanted, and I am going to post them in a couple of days, but I wanted to give you a chance to vote (if you hadn't already) before I posted the results. Remember, every vote doesn't really count. The decision is already pretty final, but at least you get to guess.
Your choices still are:
A) A Boy
B) A Girl
C) Twins
D) Don't Care
Click on the comments link below and let us hear your opinion.
Your choices still are:
A) A Boy
B) A Girl
C) Twins
D) Don't Care
Click on the comments link below and let us hear your opinion.
Our Visas Are Extended!
We are done!! We managed to lose every single battle and still win the war! These are pictures of all the new stamps we have now in our passports, because we are finally legal tourists. We went to 12 places, encountered close to 20 steps and spent close to 170 dollars in late fees, blood tests, bribes, and transportation. (Just kidding about the bribes. wink wink)
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Barabbas Movie Review
B is still gone for the weekend, so I am taking this time to catch up on all the movies that we have that B doesn’t like. It’s been a guy movie weekend. I came across Barabbas for 8 bucks at Wal-Mart before we left the States. It has Anthony Quinn and Jack Palance in it, so I figured it had to be a good movie.It’s the story of what happens to Barabbas after he is released in the place of Christ and the struggles of guilt and faith he has. He is the typical “gotta see it to believe it kind of guy.” It’s got some great quotes. One thing that came into perspective for me was throughout the rest of his life every time he meets a believer they know who he is. They are always wanting to know about Christ’s death and resurrection. Because he was an eye-witness, he was there.
In my walk with the LORD I’ve lost the awe of the events and the excitement that was going on after the resurrection and the type of life that the believers lived. They we listening to the stories first hand.
At one point in the story, one of the gladiators is pumped because Peter is in Rome. The Peter that walked with Christ. I can’t imagine what it was like. I’ve heard good story tellers, but it’s always been in third person. You know, Jesus and Peter were walking …….
But when Peter or John talked, it was Jesus and I were talking and he said….. What a concept! First hand narration.
All that to say it’s a good movie. Don’t let the “made in 1962” freak you out.
Friday, February 24, 2006
100th Post Video!
This is the 100th post on Two Bulls! For this most monumentous event the first one hundred visitors will recieve a free 4GB iPod Nano thanks to our friends at Apple.
Haha, just kidding, but I know that some of you guys may have hopped on the wagon late and maybe missed some of our videos, so I've composed a highlight reel. I've left out some of the good parts in all the videos to entice you to go look back through our archives and watch them again.
Enjoy and may we see many more videos and visa renewals before the 200th post.
100th Post Video
Haha, just kidding, but I know that some of you guys may have hopped on the wagon late and maybe missed some of our videos, so I've composed a highlight reel. I've left out some of the good parts in all the videos to entice you to go look back through our archives and watch them again.
Enjoy and may we see many more videos and visa renewals before the 200th post.
100th Post Video
No Time Alone in Arab Culture
Arab culture doesn't allow time alone. It's not part of the culture. They've always been around other people. Being alone means there is something wrong.
Today B went to a conference for three days. I decided to stay home and relax. After B left this morning, I decided that I would do absolutely nothing all day and not talk with anyone. As soon as I said that, the phone rang. I ignored it, then the mobile, then the doorbell, then the phone again, then the door. I finally had to pull the phone out of the wall and turn the mobile on silent.
I've had more calls today then any other day this week. I haven't answered any of them, so if you've been trying to get ahold of me. Tough! You can wait till tomorrow.
Today B went to a conference for three days. I decided to stay home and relax. After B left this morning, I decided that I would do absolutely nothing all day and not talk with anyone. As soon as I said that, the phone rang. I ignored it, then the mobile, then the doorbell, then the phone again, then the door. I finally had to pull the phone out of the wall and turn the mobile on silent.
I've had more calls today then any other day this week. I haven't answered any of them, so if you've been trying to get ahold of me. Tough! You can wait till tomorrow.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!
I am sure during your Christmas holidays you've seen the film "The Christmas Story." You know, "You'll shoot your eye out! You'll shoot your eye out!" There is a part in the movie where the dogs grab the Christmas Turkey and ruin Christmas dinner, so the family has to go out for dinner and the only place that is open is a Chinese food joint. The waiters are all singing Christmas Carols with really bad Chinese accents. Deck the Harrs with Borrs of Rorry! Fa Ra Ra Ra Ra, Ra Ra Ra Ra!
Tonight I can personally say that I have lived out that moment. We went to Applebee's to eat tonight. This was for my hard days work with the Ministry of Tourism and a bargain to keep B from buying a RPG launcher and putting several new, large doors in the police station. (That was a joke. We love your country, Mr. Government Official. We would never do anything to harm anyone. Please don't put us in jail.)
In the States when someone has a birthday at a restuarant like Applebee's the waiters get together, clap and sing some birthday song. No exceptions here, except the accents are different. I can't remember all of it, but I will try to reproduce what I can.
O-tay
Spesial whawn we sing fawr you
Special whawn we sing fawr fuwfree.
Soundoff
Habby
Soundoff
Birfday
Soundoff
Habby Birfday to you!
B and I were rolling! Silly songs at Applebee's. This is the life.
Tonight I can personally say that I have lived out that moment. We went to Applebee's to eat tonight. This was for my hard days work with the Ministry of Tourism and a bargain to keep B from buying a RPG launcher and putting several new, large doors in the police station. (That was a joke. We love your country, Mr. Government Official. We would never do anything to harm anyone. Please don't put us in jail.)
In the States when someone has a birthday at a restuarant like Applebee's the waiters get together, clap and sing some birthday song. No exceptions here, except the accents are different. I can't remember all of it, but I will try to reproduce what I can.
O-tay
Spesial whawn we sing fawr you
Special whawn we sing fawr fuwfree.
Soundoff
Habby
Soundoff
Birfday
Soundoff
Habby Birfday to you!
B and I were rolling! Silly songs at Applebee's. This is the life.
The Ministry of Tourism Strikes Again
Today was the day. Today was the day of victory! I took my test after school and headed to the clinic to pick up our test results. They had changed where you pick up your results, so we had to search until we found it. Once, we found it there were no problems. We get our results and head off to the police station. Once at the police station we see the same guy as always. He looks at it and says, "You are late." Well, yeah, of course we're late; when we started this process over a week ago we were on time.
He told me that I had to go to this other police station to pay my fines and had to be back there by 2pm. It was 1:10pm when he told me this. I run out the door and grab a taxi and head off to this other police station. We get to this neighborhood and hit major traffic and get lost. We end up driving up and down the streets asking for the police station. We finally find it, and guess what? It is closed.....
Not kidding.....
Stop laughing! It's not funny.
So tomorrow B leaves for a conference and will be gone till Sunday evening, meaning that I can't go back to that police station to take care of her passport till Monday, because she needs her passport with her to check in to the hotel. Those three days will cost us another 20 dollars in late fees.
I am beyond yelling and getting mad. All of this is getting so ridiculous that all I can do is laugh. That is either a sign of me adapting to culture or going completely crazy.
So once again, we wait. The good news is by the time the baby comes we will can all go together and get all of our visas worked out, because I am sure we will still be running around looking for something else we need to get square with the Ministry.
He told me that I had to go to this other police station to pay my fines and had to be back there by 2pm. It was 1:10pm when he told me this. I run out the door and grab a taxi and head off to this other police station. We get to this neighborhood and hit major traffic and get lost. We end up driving up and down the streets asking for the police station. We finally find it, and guess what? It is closed.....
Not kidding.....
Stop laughing! It's not funny.
So tomorrow B leaves for a conference and will be gone till Sunday evening, meaning that I can't go back to that police station to take care of her passport till Monday, because she needs her passport with her to check in to the hotel. Those three days will cost us another 20 dollars in late fees.
I am beyond yelling and getting mad. All of this is getting so ridiculous that all I can do is laugh. That is either a sign of me adapting to culture or going completely crazy.
So once again, we wait. The good news is by the time the baby comes we will can all go together and get all of our visas worked out, because I am sure we will still be running around looking for something else we need to get square with the Ministry.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Nothing Good Happens Before Noon
I know that all of you that keep up with the blog day by day were wondering if I ended up going to coffee with that guy at 11pm. I, in fact, didn't. He never called. I stayed up till midnight waiting on him then I laid awake till one or two trying to remember if I agreed to meet him somewhere and if I just stood him up.
So this morning stunk. I don't really remember most of it. I rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm at 6. I then remember B telling me to get out of bed at 7:30. That is the time that I am suppose to leave to make it to class on time.
I rolled out of bed around 7:45 and threw on some clothes and drug myself out the door. I stopped by the dukaan (little store, like a third world version of Food Plaza or 7Eleven) and grabbed a Pepsi and a Snickers. That's life.
I grabbed a cab and the only thing I remember thinking as I got in and saw the long beard/short thobed driver was, "Great! I love getting blasted with Qu'ranic verses first thing in the morning." A long bearded guy with a short thobe (the traditional Muslim garb. They keep it short, because “that is what Mohammad did”) is a great sign of a fundamental Muslim. These guys are very traditional and usually not fans of "the unclean unbelievers."
This guy was actually really great though. I learned alot from him. We talked about the weather and his family and my family. Finally, I had enough caffeine from the Pepsi in me to actually converse on a deeper level and I asked him about what he thought of the Muhammad Cartoons and the Muslims burning the embassies all over the world. I was really expecting him to get angry and go off on the West, but he didn't. He was really upset that his brothers would do something like that to people they didn't know because of what someone else did.
He told me that we need to take each person for what that one person is. He said many Muslims are good people, but many of them have bad hearts and aren't seeking God. He told me that Christians and Jews were the same way. Many of them have good hearts, but many of them don't. You have to take it on an individual case. You have to get to know a person before you can say whether they are good or bad.
Ha! I wasn't expecting that from his mouth. Ha! I wasn't expecting anything good to come out of anyone this morning.
That one conversation put me in a good mood all day (it's a good thing too, because class stunk!) I don't really know why though. All I can say is that the Holy Spirit can use whatever to teach me lessons that I need to learn, I just wish it wasn't before noon!
So this morning stunk. I don't really remember most of it. I rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm at 6. I then remember B telling me to get out of bed at 7:30. That is the time that I am suppose to leave to make it to class on time.
I rolled out of bed around 7:45 and threw on some clothes and drug myself out the door. I stopped by the dukaan (little store, like a third world version of Food Plaza or 7Eleven) and grabbed a Pepsi and a Snickers. That's life.
I grabbed a cab and the only thing I remember thinking as I got in and saw the long beard/short thobed driver was, "Great! I love getting blasted with Qu'ranic verses first thing in the morning." A long bearded guy with a short thobe (the traditional Muslim garb. They keep it short, because “that is what Mohammad did”) is a great sign of a fundamental Muslim. These guys are very traditional and usually not fans of "the unclean unbelievers."
This guy was actually really great though. I learned alot from him. We talked about the weather and his family and my family. Finally, I had enough caffeine from the Pepsi in me to actually converse on a deeper level and I asked him about what he thought of the Muhammad Cartoons and the Muslims burning the embassies all over the world. I was really expecting him to get angry and go off on the West, but he didn't. He was really upset that his brothers would do something like that to people they didn't know because of what someone else did.
He told me that we need to take each person for what that one person is. He said many Muslims are good people, but many of them have bad hearts and aren't seeking God. He told me that Christians and Jews were the same way. Many of them have good hearts, but many of them don't. You have to take it on an individual case. You have to get to know a person before you can say whether they are good or bad.
Ha! I wasn't expecting that from his mouth. Ha! I wasn't expecting anything good to come out of anyone this morning.
That one conversation put me in a good mood all day (it's a good thing too, because class stunk!) I don't really know why though. All I can say is that the Holy Spirit can use whatever to teach me lessons that I need to learn, I just wish it wasn't before noon!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Really Bad Language Blooper
I learned this today from a friend. He made this mistake and not me. Praise the LORD!
In English, when we call a place or go by a place and aren't sure if they are open we say, "you open?" In Arabic, this is the form of the verb "to open" is called the "Ism Maf9uul" You use this for questions like that, except for the "are you open" question.
If you call up a restuarant and ask, "are you open?" Somehow in the translation it means, "are you sexually arosed!" I am not kidding! You mess this one up and you could be in deep, deep doo-doo.
Instead of using the Ism Maf9uul, you use the Ism Faa9al, which makes it literally mean, "are you the ones who are opening?"
The difference between getting punched and getting a answer is this.
If you say "maftuuhiin" you get punched.
If you say "faatihiin" you get the answer you were looking for.
Just thought I should warn you.
In English, when we call a place or go by a place and aren't sure if they are open we say, "you open?" In Arabic, this is the form of the verb "to open" is called the "Ism Maf9uul" You use this for questions like that, except for the "are you open" question.
If you call up a restuarant and ask, "are you open?" Somehow in the translation it means, "are you sexually arosed!" I am not kidding! You mess this one up and you could be in deep, deep doo-doo.
Instead of using the Ism Maf9uul, you use the Ism Faa9al, which makes it literally mean, "are you the ones who are opening?"
The difference between getting punched and getting a answer is this.
If you say "maftuuhiin" you get punched.
If you say "faatihiin" you get the answer you were looking for.
Just thought I should warn you.
Another Goofy Visit
So, the goof ups in language keep coming. I promise one of these days I will have really good things to say. I will tell of the joys of having a visa and continue in the praise of how the culture and I fit like a duck to water and everything will be wonderful.
But when that day comes you might as well delete this site from your favorites, because then there will be nothing to write about and you won't be able to laugh until you cry and think, "Geez, I am glad I didn't do that."
So I am in the process of meeting a new friend....
We met when he gave me a ride to the grocery store. He was really nice and gave me his number. (Isn’t that great? I go out and meet guys and try to get their numbers! I sound like a junior high girl.) I called him today to see if we could meet up for coffee/tea. He said that would be great, so we agreed to meet at 8pm.
B had been sick all day. I've noticed that on every post one of us is sick. One of these days, you know, the day when we fit in like a duck; we will be healthy and not sick, but then you won't have anything interesting to read about, would you? But B was sick, so the house was dirty, especially the living room where we hover around the heater to stay warm.
I met this guy at 8 and we hop in his car and he says, "Okay, where to?" I didn't care so I asked him to choose. He then said, "but I don't know where you live?" In Arab culture that means, "We going to your house, right?" Yah, I was freaking out! The house was trashed, B was sick, what the heck! We were two blocks from the house and by the time B picked up the phone we were in the driveway to our apartment building. I did everything to stall. I dropped the keys, I gave him a tour of the hallway, I did everything. We come in the door and the living room is clean. B is the best. She is great. I love her so much. Now on to the visit.....
Oh, wait a second the phone is ringing.
*Talking*
Okay, gotta go downstairs Mama wants to talk to me.
Be right back.
.....
........
(insert Jeopardy Music or Elevator Music Here)
...........
.......
Okay, remind me to tell you what just happened when I am done with this story.
Now, on to the visit...
Because we weren't expecting to be here at the house, we didn't have anything ready. We only had some fruit cocktail juice stuff. We served him some juice and we talked for about an hour and then he had to get back to work. He said we need to come to his house and drink coffee with his family and B can meet his wife. That is great, but I don't know if he was speaking of later on tonight or the "in the future, one of these days type of thing."
He gets off at 11! So basically we are sitting on the couch waiting till 11 to see if he calls and if so we are headed to drink some caffeine-loaded coffee and visit till probably 1 or 2, then on to school early tomorrow morning. Unbelievable! If the Arabic language doesn't kill me, the Arab culture will, and whatever is left; I am sure the lack of sleep will polish off. :)
*****
Okay, Mama just called me downstairs because she couldn't figure out her new camera. It's all in English. She couldn't turn it on or off. I love Mama, she is a sweetheart. The good that came out of that was that I can feel like I am good at something. I got to go fix a problem and I had enough Arabic to understand her. Yah!
See how the LORD works? He gives little boosts of confidence when you need it.
But when that day comes you might as well delete this site from your favorites, because then there will be nothing to write about and you won't be able to laugh until you cry and think, "Geez, I am glad I didn't do that."
So I am in the process of meeting a new friend....
We met when he gave me a ride to the grocery store. He was really nice and gave me his number. (Isn’t that great? I go out and meet guys and try to get their numbers! I sound like a junior high girl.) I called him today to see if we could meet up for coffee/tea. He said that would be great, so we agreed to meet at 8pm.
B had been sick all day. I've noticed that on every post one of us is sick. One of these days, you know, the day when we fit in like a duck; we will be healthy and not sick, but then you won't have anything interesting to read about, would you? But B was sick, so the house was dirty, especially the living room where we hover around the heater to stay warm.
I met this guy at 8 and we hop in his car and he says, "Okay, where to?" I didn't care so I asked him to choose. He then said, "but I don't know where you live?" In Arab culture that means, "We going to your house, right?" Yah, I was freaking out! The house was trashed, B was sick, what the heck! We were two blocks from the house and by the time B picked up the phone we were in the driveway to our apartment building. I did everything to stall. I dropped the keys, I gave him a tour of the hallway, I did everything. We come in the door and the living room is clean. B is the best. She is great. I love her so much. Now on to the visit.....
Oh, wait a second the phone is ringing.
*Talking*
Okay, gotta go downstairs Mama wants to talk to me.
Be right back.
.....
........
(insert Jeopardy Music or Elevator Music Here)
...........
.......
Okay, remind me to tell you what just happened when I am done with this story.
Now, on to the visit...
Because we weren't expecting to be here at the house, we didn't have anything ready. We only had some fruit cocktail juice stuff. We served him some juice and we talked for about an hour and then he had to get back to work. He said we need to come to his house and drink coffee with his family and B can meet his wife. That is great, but I don't know if he was speaking of later on tonight or the "in the future, one of these days type of thing."
He gets off at 11! So basically we are sitting on the couch waiting till 11 to see if he calls and if so we are headed to drink some caffeine-loaded coffee and visit till probably 1 or 2, then on to school early tomorrow morning. Unbelievable! If the Arabic language doesn't kill me, the Arab culture will, and whatever is left; I am sure the lack of sleep will polish off. :)
*****
Okay, Mama just called me downstairs because she couldn't figure out her new camera. It's all in English. She couldn't turn it on or off. I love Mama, she is a sweetheart. The good that came out of that was that I can feel like I am good at something. I got to go fix a problem and I had enough Arabic to understand her. Yah!
See how the LORD works? He gives little boosts of confidence when you need it.
Monday, February 20, 2006
The Ministry of Tourism is the Devil
Good news today: We picked up our blood tests from the hospital and we don't have any diseases!
Bad news today: The guy at the police station wouldn't take it because it’s not from the government clinic, even though its the same test. He said it could have been forged, so we had to go to the clinic and fight the crowds and nastiness to get blood drawn yet again. Now both my arms are sore and bruised. Yah, for blood tests!
Good news today: The clinic wasn't very packed. We were in and out in 20 minutes.
Bad news today: We had to go to that stupid clinic in the first place! On top of that, the results won't be ready until Thursday! 4 more days of overdue visa fees!
Good news today: I may be going to Lebanon for the weekend.
Bad news today: I am leaving on Thursday, so I will return and have to go through all of this again. I could have just skipped this whole headache and just paid the fine that I am going to have to pay anyways and saved the 30 bucks for the blood tests and just started over on Sunday when I returned under a new visa.
This is getting flippin' ridiculous.
From now on we are just going straight to the nasty clinic and fight the crowds and dodge the diseases and get the stupid test.
Bad news today: The guy at the police station wouldn't take it because it’s not from the government clinic, even though its the same test. He said it could have been forged, so we had to go to the clinic and fight the crowds and nastiness to get blood drawn yet again. Now both my arms are sore and bruised. Yah, for blood tests!
Good news today: The clinic wasn't very packed. We were in and out in 20 minutes.
Bad news today: We had to go to that stupid clinic in the first place! On top of that, the results won't be ready until Thursday! 4 more days of overdue visa fees!
Good news today: I may be going to Lebanon for the weekend.
Bad news today: I am leaving on Thursday, so I will return and have to go through all of this again. I could have just skipped this whole headache and just paid the fine that I am going to have to pay anyways and saved the 30 bucks for the blood tests and just started over on Sunday when I returned under a new visa.
This is getting flippin' ridiculous.
From now on we are just going straight to the nasty clinic and fight the crowds and dodge the diseases and get the stupid test.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Kid in the Grocery Store Video
I don't know why, but I've been sent several funny kid videos. The laughing babies was one, but this one scares me to death. If my kid acts like this, only one word comes to mind: ADOPTION.
Enjoy
Kid in the Grocery Store Video
Enjoy
Kid in the Grocery Store Video
My Day of Rest
Today is Sunday. ilhumdulillah! The day of rest. Well one of them. Today I got alot done. I got up around 9 and spent the morning with the LORD. Then I sat around. After a bit of that I made smoothies for B and I. Yeah, that's right, smoothies. Don't knock it till you try it.
Then I sat around again. I didn't think about Arabic and I didn't speak it. In fact I didn't think. I completely vegged out. Then I got up and ate dinner and then I finished my sitting project. It gave me some time to prioritize the week.
Coming Up This Week:
Monday - After school hopefully we will have our final showdown with the Ministry of Tourism and hopefully will have our visa extensions by tomorrow.
Tuesday-Thursday – Will be completely consumed by the Arabic bear. Go into my corner and study, then come out and go back to school and get behind again.
Three Day Weekend! B has a women's retreat from Friday till Sunday, so I will be bachin' it. My and a buddy found some cheap flights to Beirut, so we may spend the weekend on the Mediterranean sippin' fruit cocktails, but more than likely I will be sitting on the couch, or for those of you who know me best, probably sleeping 16 hours a night and taking 4 hour naps.
That’s all I got for today.
Tune in tomorrow for the Sudden Death bought with the Ministry of Tourism.
Then I sat around again. I didn't think about Arabic and I didn't speak it. In fact I didn't think. I completely vegged out. Then I got up and ate dinner and then I finished my sitting project. It gave me some time to prioritize the week.
Coming Up This Week:
Monday - After school hopefully we will have our final showdown with the Ministry of Tourism and hopefully will have our visa extensions by tomorrow.
Tuesday-Thursday – Will be completely consumed by the Arabic bear. Go into my corner and study, then come out and go back to school and get behind again.
Three Day Weekend! B has a women's retreat from Friday till Sunday, so I will be bachin' it. My and a buddy found some cheap flights to Beirut, so we may spend the weekend on the Mediterranean sippin' fruit cocktails, but more than likely I will be sitting on the couch, or for those of you who know me best, probably sleeping 16 hours a night and taking 4 hour naps.
That’s all I got for today.
Tune in tomorrow for the Sudden Death bought with the Ministry of Tourism.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Laughing Babies Video
This is a video we recieved earlier this week. Its a video off of America's Funniest Home Videos. I hope we have a happy baby like these, but only one at a time.
Enjoy it.
Laughing Babies Video
Enjoy it.
Laughing Babies Video
Hubbli-Bubbli Mayham
Let me introduce those of you not familiar with Arab culture to the Hubbli-Bubbli, also known as, the Hooka, or Argiila. It is basically a water bong where you smoke fruit flavored tobacco. It is all the rage over the Middle East. Normally you can go into any "shbaab" hangout, "shbaab" means young persons, and you will see tables of 16 to 20 somethings around the tables drinking tea or coffee each one with his or her own argiila pipe.The smell is actually quite pleasant. It is very similar to walking into a very hazy fruit orchard. Usually all of this happens in outdoor coffee shops, but do to the weather all the windows are shut and everyone is indoors, hence a huge haze. But at least when you breath death in it smells very nice.
Anyway the story...
A buddy and I went to hang out. Usually on Thursday and Friday nights are packed and it’s a good time to meet new people or old acquaintances. We ate, drank fruit cocktails and mingled. I DIDN'T SMOKE THE ARGIILA! That was for you Mom. Anyways, I get home and smell like a fruit orchard and go to bed. This morning I wake up and everything in my lungs and sinuses had solidified. I felt like I had a rock for a head. (keep your snide comments to yourself!) I couldn't sleep anymore. I had to get up and find some medicine and then wash out my hair and drink hot liquids, so Bethany is in school learning more Arabic and I am sitting on the couch draining my sinuses from the second hand fruit intake from last night.
I don't have a clue what I am going to do. I guess no more Hooka Bars for me till it warms up.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
And The Saga Continues....
For those of you losing sleep over this series of unfortunate events concerning our visa extension, I want you to know that if you are seeking a happy and resolved story by the end of this post stop reading here. Go back to work, or studying, or whatever you were doing before and continue with your happy lives for the happiness you seek in the resolve of our issues will not be found here. Search on.
Today, I feel worse than yesterday. :)
Before I go any further I want you to know that I am actually in a good mood while writing this. No yelling or swearing has come from me while thinking back on today.
On with the story...
We get up and head to school. Once we arrive we notice that the rain that was in our neighborhood had turned to specks of ice near the school. We left school early to get a run on this visa process, because it’s Thursday. The normal unpredictability of government business triples on Thursdays.
We returned to the same police station that left me standing outside a locked door yesterday. The door was opened today, so we went in a greeted the guy. He took our passports and told us to that we were a day late in renewing our visas. (Remember, this is the same guy who left early yesterday and made us late!) Because of this tragedy, we were required to go down the hall passing two doors labeled "bomb squad" to the last door on the right. We paid our fine and then returned to the original guy. He began processing our visas and then said, "Where do you live?" I told him and then he said, "no, you must go to a different police station to take care of this." He then handed us our passports back and escorted us out. This wouldn't be a problem except that our friends that live three blocks from us in the same neighborhood always get their visas extended in this same building! So we walk back out into the cold and get a taxi.
We were required to go back to the same station that said that my sick, pregnant wife needed to be present for this whole thing. I knew we wouldn't get any where with them until we get a new blood test. Here is the problem. Usually the blood test from the government clinic takes three days to process as well as is filthy and crowded with thousands of Philipinos and Egyptians getting their blood tests too. This process could take anywhere from an hour to three or four hours. The guy that took my blood last time was smoking while he was pulling the blood out! We were not going back there. So...
We called B's baby doctor to see what he thought. He told us to come up to the hospital and he would give us the test and give us the results today. This is awesome! The Bullions for three!!!! We shoot, we score!!!!
The only problem is that the police station is already closed so I won't be able to be there until Sunday, so I will pay a fine for the next three days and then get it taken care of. Maybe. This is all depending on the cop at the police station.
:) So hug your family and thank the LORD that you don't have to extend you American citizenship.
Stay tuned for "The Ministry of Tourism vs. The Bullions, Sudden Death."
So far the score is:
The Ministry: 3
The Bullions: 1
Today, I feel worse than yesterday. :)
Before I go any further I want you to know that I am actually in a good mood while writing this. No yelling or swearing has come from me while thinking back on today.
On with the story...
We get up and head to school. Once we arrive we notice that the rain that was in our neighborhood had turned to specks of ice near the school. We left school early to get a run on this visa process, because it’s Thursday. The normal unpredictability of government business triples on Thursdays.
We returned to the same police station that left me standing outside a locked door yesterday. The door was opened today, so we went in a greeted the guy. He took our passports and told us to that we were a day late in renewing our visas. (Remember, this is the same guy who left early yesterday and made us late!) Because of this tragedy, we were required to go down the hall passing two doors labeled "bomb squad" to the last door on the right. We paid our fine and then returned to the original guy. He began processing our visas and then said, "Where do you live?" I told him and then he said, "no, you must go to a different police station to take care of this." He then handed us our passports back and escorted us out. This wouldn't be a problem except that our friends that live three blocks from us in the same neighborhood always get their visas extended in this same building! So we walk back out into the cold and get a taxi.
We were required to go back to the same station that said that my sick, pregnant wife needed to be present for this whole thing. I knew we wouldn't get any where with them until we get a new blood test. Here is the problem. Usually the blood test from the government clinic takes three days to process as well as is filthy and crowded with thousands of Philipinos and Egyptians getting their blood tests too. This process could take anywhere from an hour to three or four hours. The guy that took my blood last time was smoking while he was pulling the blood out! We were not going back there. So...
We called B's baby doctor to see what he thought. He told us to come up to the hospital and he would give us the test and give us the results today. This is awesome! The Bullions for three!!!! We shoot, we score!!!!
The only problem is that the police station is already closed so I won't be able to be there until Sunday, so I will pay a fine for the next three days and then get it taken care of. Maybe. This is all depending on the cop at the police station.
:) So hug your family and thank the LORD that you don't have to extend you American citizenship.
Stay tuned for "The Ministry of Tourism vs. The Bullions, Sudden Death."
So far the score is:
The Ministry: 3
The Bullions: 1
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
The Culture Shock Continues.....
The culture shock and, at times, outward rage towards this culture continues from last night. Before you read this understand that it is coming from one who is venting. I am just blowing off steam.
Once upon a time, in a country far, far away, there were two foreigners. These two foreigners loved their host country and thought good thoughts about it all the time. Until one day the evil, evil minister of tourism required them to renew their visas.
Okay, now that you have the background. B and I are both sick. A little head cold in these damp, freezing conditions can last for quite a while. Both of us missed school today and didn't feel good, but because today was the last day to take care of this visa thing before we got deported or fined, I got dressed and headed out the door to the police station. Two things happened on the way to the station. One, I noticed that while it was sunny outside the wind was chilling to the bone. I should have worn more. Two, I noticed off to the west some dark rain clouds. I thought, "oh, that will be nice, some more rain. Good thing I will be back home before that hits."
I arrive at the station frozen and sniffling. I walk into the office that I usually go to and sit down. The guy comes in and I hand him our passports. He then says, "Who is this? This your girlfriend?" He is referring to my pregnant wife's passport. I told him that she wasn't my girlfriend, but my wife. He then asks why she isn't here. I told him that she was pregnant and sick so she couldn't make it. He then proceeded to tell me that she has to be present for this to happen, but he had to take a break from that to allow the guy behind him with 8 passports to get all of his stuff taken care of. That's right. One guy with 8 passports. So Joe Arab is getting his family taken care of without them being there, but me...no way! My sick, pregnant wife has to walk through the cold to be present for this!
I went off on him. I told him, "She is my wife, not my girlfriend. I am the head of that house and she falls under my authority, so I can get her visa renewed and if you want I will bring her sick body up here if you want her to throw up on your desk!" He smiled a little uneasily and then we went on from there.
He then wanted our blood tests so I gave them the ones that we got when we entered the country. He then told me that they were no good because they were old. I told him that the last time I was here he told me to hold on to it because it was good for a year. You know what he said, "Well, yes, but only if you do not leave the country!" Well, then how is it good for a year if you require me to leave the country every six months!!! On top of that, no one else has had to get a blood test.
So I am ticked. I get my passport and my "girlfriend's" passport and head out the door. The rain that wasn't going to come till I got done had hit. I decided to head over to another place that was less strict that alot of the other foreigners use. I grabbed a cab and headed over there.
Once there I read all the signs in Arabic and finally find the right office, but it's shut and locked. I ask the guy next to it and he says, "He will be back later. Go ahead and wait." So I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, another guy comes and asks the same questions I did and the guy tell him that the officer I needed left for the day and would be back tomorrow. Inshallah! So I asked him again, and then he tells me, "Well the guy went home and won't be back today!" I could have been there for hours and no one would have told me!
I walk back outside with no other options but to go home and go through this process again tomorrow, but by then we will be overdue and have to pay a fine as well as go to yet another station to sit and listen to more excuses why I have to go to some where else.
So I arrive home, mad, wet, and cold only to find that we've run out of gas. No gas means no heat. So I am writing this post still wet, still cold and still mad. I love this country!!!
Once upon a time, in a country far, far away, there were two foreigners. These two foreigners loved their host country and thought good thoughts about it all the time. Until one day the evil, evil minister of tourism required them to renew their visas.
Okay, now that you have the background. B and I are both sick. A little head cold in these damp, freezing conditions can last for quite a while. Both of us missed school today and didn't feel good, but because today was the last day to take care of this visa thing before we got deported or fined, I got dressed and headed out the door to the police station. Two things happened on the way to the station. One, I noticed that while it was sunny outside the wind was chilling to the bone. I should have worn more. Two, I noticed off to the west some dark rain clouds. I thought, "oh, that will be nice, some more rain. Good thing I will be back home before that hits."
I arrive at the station frozen and sniffling. I walk into the office that I usually go to and sit down. The guy comes in and I hand him our passports. He then says, "Who is this? This your girlfriend?" He is referring to my pregnant wife's passport. I told him that she wasn't my girlfriend, but my wife. He then asks why she isn't here. I told him that she was pregnant and sick so she couldn't make it. He then proceeded to tell me that she has to be present for this to happen, but he had to take a break from that to allow the guy behind him with 8 passports to get all of his stuff taken care of. That's right. One guy with 8 passports. So Joe Arab is getting his family taken care of without them being there, but me...no way! My sick, pregnant wife has to walk through the cold to be present for this!
I went off on him. I told him, "She is my wife, not my girlfriend. I am the head of that house and she falls under my authority, so I can get her visa renewed and if you want I will bring her sick body up here if you want her to throw up on your desk!" He smiled a little uneasily and then we went on from there.
He then wanted our blood tests so I gave them the ones that we got when we entered the country. He then told me that they were no good because they were old. I told him that the last time I was here he told me to hold on to it because it was good for a year. You know what he said, "Well, yes, but only if you do not leave the country!" Well, then how is it good for a year if you require me to leave the country every six months!!! On top of that, no one else has had to get a blood test.
So I am ticked. I get my passport and my "girlfriend's" passport and head out the door. The rain that wasn't going to come till I got done had hit. I decided to head over to another place that was less strict that alot of the other foreigners use. I grabbed a cab and headed over there.
Once there I read all the signs in Arabic and finally find the right office, but it's shut and locked. I ask the guy next to it and he says, "He will be back later. Go ahead and wait." So I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, another guy comes and asks the same questions I did and the guy tell him that the officer I needed left for the day and would be back tomorrow. Inshallah! So I asked him again, and then he tells me, "Well the guy went home and won't be back today!" I could have been there for hours and no one would have told me!
I walk back outside with no other options but to go home and go through this process again tomorrow, but by then we will be overdue and have to pay a fine as well as go to yet another station to sit and listen to more excuses why I have to go to some where else.
So I arrive home, mad, wet, and cold only to find that we've run out of gas. No gas means no heat. So I am writing this post still wet, still cold and still mad. I love this country!!!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Culture Shock Is Like Being Pregnant
I am in culture shock. I am discouraged. I've been locked up in my house trying desperately to keep up with the amount of schoolwork that has been given to me. I had a test last Saturday. I studied a ton for it. I was prepared.
Monday rolls around and I get the results. 61. That’s right. 61. I was devastated. I am still stumbling backwards from that blow. I know, I know tests don't mean a thing. That's what I keep telling myself.
Then we have grammar. Let me tell you, I am much better at speaking than grammar. I was flippin' clueless. I just sat there looking like an idiot, fighting back tears and just praying for the bell to ring. I run home and look back on it and think, "oh, no biggie, its okay."
Well, tonight when my buddy and his wife came over. Guess what!?! I couldn't communicate. All those hours from the last three weeks didn't pay off. Nothing. I couldn't say anything. Unbelievable!
So how does this have anything to do with being pregnant?
B is pregnant, and I am learning that sometimes I have to pick my words very carefully, because what she hears carries alot of weight on how she feels sometimes. She tends to take things more personally. So hopefully this experience will make be a better husband to her.
Yeah, that how I've been. All these language/cultural blows I've taken I have taken them as attacks on me as a person. I am easily upset by comments made about my accent, or if I use present instead of past tense. The little things seem like slaps in the face.
So tonight I am looking back and laughing at myself. I am acting like a pregnant lady. Tomorrow I will be looking back and saying the same thing probably, but at least tonight I can look back and laugh and pray tomorrow is better. :)
If you are planning on learning a language, go for it. Just be ready to "be pregnant" emotionally.
Monday rolls around and I get the results. 61. That’s right. 61. I was devastated. I am still stumbling backwards from that blow. I know, I know tests don't mean a thing. That's what I keep telling myself.
Then we have grammar. Let me tell you, I am much better at speaking than grammar. I was flippin' clueless. I just sat there looking like an idiot, fighting back tears and just praying for the bell to ring. I run home and look back on it and think, "oh, no biggie, its okay."
Well, tonight when my buddy and his wife came over. Guess what!?! I couldn't communicate. All those hours from the last three weeks didn't pay off. Nothing. I couldn't say anything. Unbelievable!
So how does this have anything to do with being pregnant?
B is pregnant, and I am learning that sometimes I have to pick my words very carefully, because what she hears carries alot of weight on how she feels sometimes. She tends to take things more personally. So hopefully this experience will make be a better husband to her.
Yeah, that how I've been. All these language/cultural blows I've taken I have taken them as attacks on me as a person. I am easily upset by comments made about my accent, or if I use present instead of past tense. The little things seem like slaps in the face.
So tonight I am looking back and laughing at myself. I am acting like a pregnant lady. Tomorrow I will be looking back and saying the same thing probably, but at least tonight I can look back and laugh and pray tomorrow is better. :)
If you are planning on learning a language, go for it. Just be ready to "be pregnant" emotionally.
The Mohammad Cartoons
Have you been following this? The Muslims are burning embassies and causing some real problems worldwide. Nothing here, but still it has been crazy to read the news.
What do I think about this? It's been twofold really and I will not be expressing either of these to any of my Muslim friends.
Firstly, I think, "suck it up you weenies!" So what if Mohammad got made fun of. You guys preach the corruption of the Bible from your schools and no one has ever found anything that supports it. You trash Western leaders from your mosques. Grow up you big babies. If you can't take it don't dish it out.
Secondly, this very much shows the difference in origins of the followers. The followers of Muhammad were submissive to the authorities above them when they were a minority. After they had control submission to authority and free speech were not allowed. If you speak out, then you get killed. This has always been the Muslim mind set. You don't love your enemies or submit, you kill and submit until you have the chance to take over.
Followers of Christ aren't like that. They are to love and even bigger and harder than that is to submit. "Blessed are you when you are persecuted. Blessed are you when they curse you for doing good." Ring any bells?
But, I am warning you. The Islamic community will push this and push this. It is quickly coming to the point where free speech and political freedom is okay as long as it doesn't interfere with the Islamic agenda. You better stand up against this or your kids and grandkids will have to go to "public" schools that teach the Islamic agenda. Not because the government is controlled by Muslims, but because they are trying to be politically correct.
What do I think about this? It's been twofold really and I will not be expressing either of these to any of my Muslim friends.
Firstly, I think, "suck it up you weenies!" So what if Mohammad got made fun of. You guys preach the corruption of the Bible from your schools and no one has ever found anything that supports it. You trash Western leaders from your mosques. Grow up you big babies. If you can't take it don't dish it out.
Secondly, this very much shows the difference in origins of the followers. The followers of Muhammad were submissive to the authorities above them when they were a minority. After they had control submission to authority and free speech were not allowed. If you speak out, then you get killed. This has always been the Muslim mind set. You don't love your enemies or submit, you kill and submit until you have the chance to take over.
Followers of Christ aren't like that. They are to love and even bigger and harder than that is to submit. "Blessed are you when you are persecuted. Blessed are you when they curse you for doing good." Ring any bells?
But, I am warning you. The Islamic community will push this and push this. It is quickly coming to the point where free speech and political freedom is okay as long as it doesn't interfere with the Islamic agenda. You better stand up against this or your kids and grandkids will have to go to "public" schools that teach the Islamic agenda. Not because the government is controlled by Muslims, but because they are trying to be politically correct.
Cultural Hoopla
Arab relationships are completely different than anything I've ever experienced before. It's like dating a really moody girl that can't make up her mind to dump you or not. It can be very on again, off again. I've been trying to get ahold of a buddy of mine for several weeks. Its been hit and miss. I've texted him and no response. If I saw him on the street we would talk, but it was always really hurried. I'd call him and see what he would be up too, but he would say tomorrow would be better to talk. When tomorrow came I wouldn't be able to get ahold of him. Unbelievable!
So today I wasn't feeling well, but I messaged him to see what he was up too. We then get a call from a friend in the states who says she will have to call us back around 6:30. At six I get a call from my buddy and he says that he and his wife are on the way over to see us! We are completely running around crazy trying to clean the living room, when the doorbell rings and in walks MaMa. She is wanting to talk about getting our hot water heater fixed and about the weather and all sorts of other stuff. Then there is a knock on the door and guess what? It's my buddy and his wife. So they sit down and talk with MaMa and then the phone call comes, so Bethany runs in to take that call and I am in the living room with the Arabs.
What's the problem? Well, in Arab culture, the person in front of you is always the most important. If the phone rings, its not important. If you were on your way out to visit someone else, don't worry about it. If you feel like crap, suck it up. But this call was really important, so B had to take it. So I had to serve coffee and small talk and try to make many apologies and other niceties when you completely screw up culturally.
I love it! It’s been a Valentine's to remember. So we messed up that visit, better luck next time.
So today I wasn't feeling well, but I messaged him to see what he was up too. We then get a call from a friend in the states who says she will have to call us back around 6:30. At six I get a call from my buddy and he says that he and his wife are on the way over to see us! We are completely running around crazy trying to clean the living room, when the doorbell rings and in walks MaMa. She is wanting to talk about getting our hot water heater fixed and about the weather and all sorts of other stuff. Then there is a knock on the door and guess what? It's my buddy and his wife. So they sit down and talk with MaMa and then the phone call comes, so Bethany runs in to take that call and I am in the living room with the Arabs.
What's the problem? Well, in Arab culture, the person in front of you is always the most important. If the phone rings, its not important. If you were on your way out to visit someone else, don't worry about it. If you feel like crap, suck it up. But this call was really important, so B had to take it. So I had to serve coffee and small talk and try to make many apologies and other niceties when you completely screw up culturally.
I love it! It’s been a Valentine's to remember. So we messed up that visit, better luck next time.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
It's Snow...Sort of
Here is proof that it snows in the Middle East. I must apologize though. Nature wasn't cooperating and the snow wasn't sticking. So when you see the video and you think, "What? That is just fat rain." YOUR WRONG, IT'S SNOW!!!! It's snow I tell you!
The Fat Rain/Weak Snow Video
The Fat Rain/Weak Snow Video
Kbiir fi Sinn
The best thing about being in kindergarten is "show and tell." You always got to bring something fun from home and share your little heart out about how cool it was.Well, guess what?!?! I am back in kindergarten linguistically speaking. So we had "show and tell." Everybody meet Hasan wa Basit. Hasan meet everybody. Hasan is a dish-dash wearin', Arabic speakin' camel. Bethany bought him in Bahrain and pulled him out for "show & tell." Hasan even has glasses, because he is "kbiir fi sinn."
You know in English we ask, "How old are you?" In Spanish it is, "How many years do you have?" In Arabic, if someone is old they are, "kbiir fi sinn." This literally means, "big in tooth." How do you tell how old a camel is? By his teeth. The teeth of the camel never stop growing, so when he is old, he is big in tooth, as well. I guess, it ran over to apply to humans also.
So Hasan has to wear glasses to see, therefore he is "kbiir fi sinn."
So check your teeth, you may be older than you think.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Xutbeh, Xutbeh, Get Your Xutbeh!
Today was all around a strange day. It started off with a call saying that school was cancelled today because of the snow, so we jump up and look outside and guess what!?! No snow on the ground. It was snowing and it snowed for maybe 20 minutes and then it stopped, but nothing was sticking. The elevation here is so different from east to west that here we didn't get any snow, but on the other side of the city it had snowed quite a bit.
We finished today with a Xutbeh. You may be asking, "What is a Xutbeh?" Well, I am glad you asked. A Xutbeh is an Islamic engagement party. Normally, it is completely gender separated, but this one was for a Christian couple with alot of Muslim friends. We had traditional Christian Arabs there and next to them were traditional Muslim Arabs. It was weird. After the exchanging of the rings and the gold*(see note below.) Then the dancing begins. Normally, this being a gender separated function we would never see the women, but this being a moderate Christian/Muslim function we were all together. Culturally a no-no.
Now, you know me. I don't dance. White man's syndrome flows through my veins and runs in my family. On top of that B is pregnant, so she was forbidden to dance, so I was set. I just stood in the back and was a wallflower. I took part in the groom's dance but then went back to holding up my wall. Until...
One of our Arab friends came and dragged me, literally grabbed my hand and by force dragged me, out onto the dance floor. She is a family friend and we know the family real well, so this was okay. What was not okay was my lack of dancing skills. I keep telling her, "I have no clue how to dance Arab style, what am I suppose to be doing?" Well I looked up half-way through the song and she had disappeared and she had grabbed this Muslim girl and matched her up with me and said, "Teach him how to dance!" So I look up and I am dancing with a covered lady!! I am going to get fired! Eventually, I was able to get out of it, but needless to say, everything I learned about being culturally appropriate was completely waded up and thrown out the window. Freaked me out something awful, and on top off all of that, my pregnant wife was sitting and watching me dancing with another women while being culturally inappropriate.
What a day!
*Gold - In Arab culture the groom gives the bride gold bracelets as a wedding gift. The gold is hers to keep. No matter what, meaning if her divorces her, that gold is hers as security. You can go out into the desert and see Bedouin women living in tents with 10 huge gold bracelets up their arms. That is their financial investment given by their husbands.
We finished today with a Xutbeh. You may be asking, "What is a Xutbeh?" Well, I am glad you asked. A Xutbeh is an Islamic engagement party. Normally, it is completely gender separated, but this one was for a Christian couple with alot of Muslim friends. We had traditional Christian Arabs there and next to them were traditional Muslim Arabs. It was weird. After the exchanging of the rings and the gold*(see note below.) Then the dancing begins. Normally, this being a gender separated function we would never see the women, but this being a moderate Christian/Muslim function we were all together. Culturally a no-no.
Now, you know me. I don't dance. White man's syndrome flows through my veins and runs in my family. On top of that B is pregnant, so she was forbidden to dance, so I was set. I just stood in the back and was a wallflower. I took part in the groom's dance but then went back to holding up my wall. Until...
One of our Arab friends came and dragged me, literally grabbed my hand and by force dragged me, out onto the dance floor. She is a family friend and we know the family real well, so this was okay. What was not okay was my lack of dancing skills. I keep telling her, "I have no clue how to dance Arab style, what am I suppose to be doing?" Well I looked up half-way through the song and she had disappeared and she had grabbed this Muslim girl and matched her up with me and said, "Teach him how to dance!" So I look up and I am dancing with a covered lady!! I am going to get fired! Eventually, I was able to get out of it, but needless to say, everything I learned about being culturally appropriate was completely waded up and thrown out the window. Freaked me out something awful, and on top off all of that, my pregnant wife was sitting and watching me dancing with another women while being culturally inappropriate.
What a day!
*Gold - In Arab culture the groom gives the bride gold bracelets as a wedding gift. The gold is hers to keep. No matter what, meaning if her divorces her, that gold is hers as security. You can go out into the desert and see Bedouin women living in tents with 10 huge gold bracelets up their arms. That is their financial investment given by their husbands.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
The Baby Doctor
Today we made it to our 4th month baby doctor visit. This is supposedly the earliest point in Baby Bull's life where we can tell if he is a he or if she is a she.
Well, the kid is alot like me, I guess. Last appointment we couldn't take the proper measurements because BB was asleep and wouldn't move. Once we were able to wake BB we could tell that BB was not a morning person and hated to be woken up.
This appointment was much the same. BB had grown quite a bit, but was now sitting Indian style and was obviously very comfortable, because BB could not be persuaded to move. So for all of you that were dying to know what BB is, you will just have to wait with the rest of us impatient ones, because the kid happens to be modest and extremely shy.
For those of you that haven't cast your vote about what BB is, please see the post below and let us know what you think or want. We've had some great responses so far.
Mama, our Jordanian grandma, says that BB is a boy because Bethany hasn't gained any weight in her face. Others have wanted BB to be a boy so we can arrange the marriage with their girl that they don't have yet. Still others have had some even better reasons, so go to the post below and give us your vote.
In a week or so we will post the results of the 2006 "Baby Bull Gender Polls," so stay tuned!
Well, the kid is alot like me, I guess. Last appointment we couldn't take the proper measurements because BB was asleep and wouldn't move. Once we were able to wake BB we could tell that BB was not a morning person and hated to be woken up.
This appointment was much the same. BB had grown quite a bit, but was now sitting Indian style and was obviously very comfortable, because BB could not be persuaded to move. So for all of you that were dying to know what BB is, you will just have to wait with the rest of us impatient ones, because the kid happens to be modest and extremely shy.
For those of you that haven't cast your vote about what BB is, please see the post below and let us know what you think or want. We've had some great responses so far.
Mama, our Jordanian grandma, says that BB is a boy because Bethany hasn't gained any weight in her face. Others have wanted BB to be a boy so we can arrange the marriage with their girl that they don't have yet. Still others have had some even better reasons, so go to the post below and give us your vote.
In a week or so we will post the results of the 2006 "Baby Bull Gender Polls," so stay tuned!
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Cast Your Vote!
Cast Your Vote!
We have our 4 month baby check-up this week. I am really anxious and excited. This is the infamous check-up where we find out if Baby Bull is a boy or a girl. We’ve been tossing back and forth names and what colors to do what in, but after tomorrow we may have a better idea.
Here is the deal. Bethany wants BB to be a boy. I am torn between the two. KD, my little sister, thinks BB is a boy. What do you think/want? Comment and let us know. If you are like me and are just happy to have a kid, then comment and tell us that. You choices are:
1) A Boy
2) A Girl
3) All of the Above (Yikes)
4) Don’t Care
We aren’t going to tell you what BB is unless we get some feedback from this post. So vote and bring your friends.
We have our 4 month baby check-up this week. I am really anxious and excited. This is the infamous check-up where we find out if Baby Bull is a boy or a girl. We’ve been tossing back and forth names and what colors to do what in, but after tomorrow we may have a better idea.
Here is the deal. Bethany wants BB to be a boy. I am torn between the two. KD, my little sister, thinks BB is a boy. What do you think/want? Comment and let us know. If you are like me and are just happy to have a kid, then comment and tell us that. You choices are:
1) A Boy
2) A Girl
3) All of the Above (Yikes)
4) Don’t Care
We aren’t going to tell you what BB is unless we get some feedback from this post. So vote and bring your friends.
Yet Another Language Blooper
Yet Another Language Blooper.
Today in my Topical Discussion class we were talking about our home countries/states/and cities. We answered questions like, “It is an agricultural district or industrious?” Well I was sharing about how a lot of people in Texas have land and some of them own cattle. My grandpa, in fact, was very much a cowboy.
So that is what I thought I said. Apparently, judging by my teacher’s expression I didn’t say that. The word in Arabic for cowboy is “raa9ii baqar,” meaning, “Sheppard of the cows.” I guess the “raa9ii” part of my sentence got lost somewhere and instead of saying that my grandfather was a big-time cowboy, I said my grandfather was a big-time cow!
Well, Grandpa, I am really sorry. That hasn’t happened before and I don’t plan on it again. You actually come up quite often when they find out I am from Texas. I always get to tell the story about how I really do know a real, live cowboy, just like on TV. :)
Today in my Topical Discussion class we were talking about our home countries/states/and cities. We answered questions like, “It is an agricultural district or industrious?” Well I was sharing about how a lot of people in Texas have land and some of them own cattle. My grandpa, in fact, was very much a cowboy.
So that is what I thought I said. Apparently, judging by my teacher’s expression I didn’t say that. The word in Arabic for cowboy is “raa9ii baqar,” meaning, “Sheppard of the cows.” I guess the “raa9ii” part of my sentence got lost somewhere and instead of saying that my grandfather was a big-time cowboy, I said my grandfather was a big-time cow!
Well, Grandpa, I am really sorry. That hasn’t happened before and I don’t plan on it again. You actually come up quite often when they find out I am from Texas. I always get to tell the story about how I really do know a real, live cowboy, just like on TV. :)
Desert Dwellers Don't Have Water Words
We've all been there, our first geography class, the place where you learn all the words for all these strangely shaped pieces of land or water. You know what I am talking about. All those words that sound funny and you can never remember how to spell. For instance, a peninsula is a piece of land that sticks out into a body of water but is attached on only one side, i.e. Italy.
Well, imagine you grew up in the heart of Saudi Arabia. When you were sitting around the fires at night thousands of years ago making up the Arabic language do you think you would have ever thought about what to name a "peninsula?" More than likely you had probably never even seen one. So what do you do after you've made this language and then all of a sudden you find bodies of land that stick out into the water on all sides, except one?
Well, this is what made me laugh today. Arabic does have a word for peninsula, but first let me tell you the Arabic word for island, "jazeera." You may recognize this word from Al-Jazeera, the Arab version of CNN, which is strangely enough based out of Qatar, which is a peninsula and not an island.
The Arabic word for peninsula is, "Shibih Jazeera." Literally translated it means, "It looks like an island." So picture the Bedouins coming to a peninsula a thousand years ago for the first time.
It could look like this (except totally in Arabic):
Abdullah: Hey, what is this?
Saud: I don't know. Shibih Jazeera.
A: What?
S: Shibih Jazeera!
A: Yeah, Shibih Jazeera, but not on one side.
S: They'll never believe this back home.
A: How are we going to tell them about this?
S: Lets just tell them, Shibih Jazeera.
A: Sounds good to me!
So they get back to the tents and gather everyone around the fire and say, "we found a piece of land and Shibih Jazeera." Everybody goes, "yeah? What is it though?" So Abdullah and Saud say, "I don't know, shibih jazeera," so from then on, it stuck.
So for the lack of a better word, "peninsula" in Arabic, "looks like an island."
Well, imagine you grew up in the heart of Saudi Arabia. When you were sitting around the fires at night thousands of years ago making up the Arabic language do you think you would have ever thought about what to name a "peninsula?" More than likely you had probably never even seen one. So what do you do after you've made this language and then all of a sudden you find bodies of land that stick out into the water on all sides, except one?
Well, this is what made me laugh today. Arabic does have a word for peninsula, but first let me tell you the Arabic word for island, "jazeera." You may recognize this word from Al-Jazeera, the Arab version of CNN, which is strangely enough based out of Qatar, which is a peninsula and not an island.
The Arabic word for peninsula is, "Shibih Jazeera." Literally translated it means, "It looks like an island." So picture the Bedouins coming to a peninsula a thousand years ago for the first time.
It could look like this (except totally in Arabic):
Abdullah: Hey, what is this?
Saud: I don't know. Shibih Jazeera.
A: What?
S: Shibih Jazeera!
A: Yeah, Shibih Jazeera, but not on one side.
S: They'll never believe this back home.
A: How are we going to tell them about this?
S: Lets just tell them, Shibih Jazeera.
A: Sounds good to me!
So they get back to the tents and gather everyone around the fire and say, "we found a piece of land and Shibih Jazeera." Everybody goes, "yeah? What is it though?" So Abdullah and Saud say, "I don't know, shibih jazeera," so from then on, it stuck.
So for the lack of a better word, "peninsula" in Arabic, "looks like an island."
Monday, February 06, 2006
Be The Tree
Psalms 1:3, Jeremiah 17:8, Ezekiel 47:1-12
Being completely drowned in Arabic these past weeks, the LORD has really shown me several passages in the Book that have really brought me a great deal of comfort.
The Book brings the picture of a tree planted by the stream. It's roots go deep and when the drought come it survives. Not only survives but it thrives. Its leaves do not wither. In fact the tree is so well rooted by the stream and fed by the life it brings that it even produces fruit!
My favorite picture of this is in Exekiel 47. After the Lord builds his temple for his glory to reside, a stream of water flows out into the desert towards the Dead Sea. The river grows and grows until it is so huge Ezekiel can't cross it anymore.
In the Book, Ezekiel says that where the river enters the sea the salt water becomes fresh. Fish live there and trees grow along the edge and produce fruit every month. Their fruit provides food and their leaves provide healing.
Wow! I want to be that. I want that to happen. I want the River of God to flow out into the desert, a "Dead Sea," and I want to be one of those trees. I want to be a tree that is used to bring life in a desert place. I want to produce fruit every month. I want to be used to provide healing. I want to see the dead, salty earth not only become wet with Spirit of the LORD, but to change the dead, stale water into living springs of water.
Sorry for the gushy devo. I just get excited when the Book talks about deserts becoming places of life. I guess that is my heart. If you didn't know that already. :)
So when in doubt, be the tree.
Being completely drowned in Arabic these past weeks, the LORD has really shown me several passages in the Book that have really brought me a great deal of comfort.
The Book brings the picture of a tree planted by the stream. It's roots go deep and when the drought come it survives. Not only survives but it thrives. Its leaves do not wither. In fact the tree is so well rooted by the stream and fed by the life it brings that it even produces fruit!
My favorite picture of this is in Exekiel 47. After the Lord builds his temple for his glory to reside, a stream of water flows out into the desert towards the Dead Sea. The river grows and grows until it is so huge Ezekiel can't cross it anymore.
In the Book, Ezekiel says that where the river enters the sea the salt water becomes fresh. Fish live there and trees grow along the edge and produce fruit every month. Their fruit provides food and their leaves provide healing.
Wow! I want to be that. I want that to happen. I want the River of God to flow out into the desert, a "Dead Sea," and I want to be one of those trees. I want to be a tree that is used to bring life in a desert place. I want to produce fruit every month. I want to be used to provide healing. I want to see the dead, salty earth not only become wet with Spirit of the LORD, but to change the dead, stale water into living springs of water.
Sorry for the gushy devo. I just get excited when the Book talks about deserts becoming places of life. I guess that is my heart. If you didn't know that already. :)
So when in doubt, be the tree.
Me Making Fun of Bad Dressers
You may have two reactions to this post. Some of you may get the mental picture of this and laugh until you are sick. Others of you may think I am being too hard on them. :)
Cross cultural dressing is a dangerous thing when you may not understand the culture you are trying to adapt to. I would also to point out that I know that the locals have done the same thing to me. They have thought and at times said, “What is with you?” So just as I am making fun of these guys, I know that this is happening to me. I know that me trying to adapt to this culture has made some Arabs go, "What are you doing stupid? Go back to your own country!" So it all evens out in the end. Adapting cross culturaly can bring on some embarrassing fashion moments.
So I was sitting in one of the many malls we have here waiting for the movie theater to let us in to see "The Brothers Grimm," which is a good movie by the way, when three guys walked by me. They were probably around 16ish years old, so part of this can be blamed on age I guess, but they were completely "punked out."
All three of them had on real baggy pants, sagging way down. Two of them had real bushy hair with baseball caps on. One of them had his Yankees cap turned off center with the bill flattened. The kicker of this whole thing is that the third one had his real baggy pants, and oversized T-shirt that had some far-off American logo on it and get this... a huge belt buckle. I am talking about one like you get when you win the National Bull Riding Championship. It was huge!
The funny thing about this is our innate sense of not wanting to be like anyone else, but we still desperately want to fit in. These kids had Yankees products, mixed with skater apparel, and to top it off, a cowboy belt buckle. These kids are supporting a team they probably don't care about, dressing like skaters when I can confidently say that they probably haven't even seen a skateboard before, and a belt buckle from a culture that I can guarantee that they have never experienced.
Why, because it came across the airwaves and landed on their TVs. I love self expression! You can express yourself however you want, but I will express myself however I want and my form of expression will be to make fun or you expressing yourself.
Have a great day!
Cross cultural dressing is a dangerous thing when you may not understand the culture you are trying to adapt to. I would also to point out that I know that the locals have done the same thing to me. They have thought and at times said, “What is with you?” So just as I am making fun of these guys, I know that this is happening to me. I know that me trying to adapt to this culture has made some Arabs go, "What are you doing stupid? Go back to your own country!" So it all evens out in the end. Adapting cross culturaly can bring on some embarrassing fashion moments.
So I was sitting in one of the many malls we have here waiting for the movie theater to let us in to see "The Brothers Grimm," which is a good movie by the way, when three guys walked by me. They were probably around 16ish years old, so part of this can be blamed on age I guess, but they were completely "punked out."
All three of them had on real baggy pants, sagging way down. Two of them had real bushy hair with baseball caps on. One of them had his Yankees cap turned off center with the bill flattened. The kicker of this whole thing is that the third one had his real baggy pants, and oversized T-shirt that had some far-off American logo on it and get this... a huge belt buckle. I am talking about one like you get when you win the National Bull Riding Championship. It was huge!
The funny thing about this is our innate sense of not wanting to be like anyone else, but we still desperately want to fit in. These kids had Yankees products, mixed with skater apparel, and to top it off, a cowboy belt buckle. These kids are supporting a team they probably don't care about, dressing like skaters when I can confidently say that they probably haven't even seen a skateboard before, and a belt buckle from a culture that I can guarantee that they have never experienced.
Why, because it came across the airwaves and landed on their TVs. I love self expression! You can express yourself however you want, but I will express myself however I want and my form of expression will be to make fun or you expressing yourself.
Have a great day!
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Happy Groundhog's Day
I don't have a clue on how to say "groundhog" in Arabic, but I can guarantee that little booger didn't see his shadow here. I am pretty sure that he skipped the whole thing. He stayed in his little, furry bed away from all the freezing, cold rain and wind. I don't know what that means though. Is it six more weeks of winter if he sees his shadow? Someone comment and set me straight on the rules and guidelines of proper groundhog interpretation.
ADSL and Peter Rabbit
You see the strangest things in the Middle East. Usually they are funny things on the menus at restaurants, or seeing your name misspelled on some official document that is important for you to stay in country, or teenage guys walking around wearing shirts that says, "World's greatest Grandma."
Well today it was me getting our Internet upgraded. For those of you that think we are suffering, we are officially on wireless now. But I was sitting at this desk trying to explain to the guy that its okay to get an upgrade on our internet even though the phone line wasn't in our name, but our landlord's name, y'all've heard me talk about Mama, right? Well anyway, I kept telling him, of course Mama knows that we have the internet. We are getting an upgrade to hi-speed, not getting a new account. How do you think we got the internet originally? Well, while he was off running around trying to act busy. I sat there and surveyed my surroundings, and lo and behold on the trash can next to me is none other than Peter Rabbit. You know, the rabbit that went into Farmer McGregor's garden and lost his new coat. Anyways, he apparently has stickers and there is a pretty big one of him on this trash can in the phone company's office.
Just thought you should know.
Well today it was me getting our Internet upgraded. For those of you that think we are suffering, we are officially on wireless now. But I was sitting at this desk trying to explain to the guy that its okay to get an upgrade on our internet even though the phone line wasn't in our name, but our landlord's name, y'all've heard me talk about Mama, right? Well anyway, I kept telling him, of course Mama knows that we have the internet. We are getting an upgrade to hi-speed, not getting a new account. How do you think we got the internet originally? Well, while he was off running around trying to act busy. I sat there and surveyed my surroundings, and lo and behold on the trash can next to me is none other than Peter Rabbit. You know, the rabbit that went into Farmer McGregor's garden and lost his new coat. Anyways, he apparently has stickers and there is a pretty big one of him on this trash can in the phone company's office.
Just thought you should know.
Yes, Road Rage is a Cultural Thing
So we've all been there, driving too fast down the interstate when some idiot cuts you off and you have to slam on your brakes to avoid ramming your car into his. Or worse, we've all been the idiot once or twice as well. What usually happens? When I cut someone off they usually pull up next to me, yell something that I can't hear but when lip reading I can clearly see they aren't wishing me a safe farewell, and then, almost without a doubt, I get "the bird." That’s how it goes in America.
Here it doesn't work that way. Today, my taxi driver cut off a guy downtown and he nearly hit us. The guy managed to speed past us and then slam on his brakes, throwing his car in park, and got out to approach our taxi where he and the taxi driver were obliviously going to have words. I was half expecting them to duke it out, but that doesn't happen in this culture. Apparently in this culture they yell and argue over who was wrong until enough traffic is backed up behind them that the roaring of people's horns makes it impossible to hear what the other guy is saying. Than you both return to your cars and drive off.
So today was no different. The guy hopes out and comes over to the taxi window and went off about how stupid my driver was and yada-yada. Then he started walking off and my driver said something that made him even more upset, so he came back and they argued some more until the traffic was backed up enough that his friend from the passenger side came over and pulled him away.
Needless to say, we were late to school. But for those of you that know me that is a normal thing.
Here it doesn't work that way. Today, my taxi driver cut off a guy downtown and he nearly hit us. The guy managed to speed past us and then slam on his brakes, throwing his car in park, and got out to approach our taxi where he and the taxi driver were obliviously going to have words. I was half expecting them to duke it out, but that doesn't happen in this culture. Apparently in this culture they yell and argue over who was wrong until enough traffic is backed up behind them that the roaring of people's horns makes it impossible to hear what the other guy is saying. Than you both return to your cars and drive off.
So today was no different. The guy hopes out and comes over to the taxi window and went off about how stupid my driver was and yada-yada. Then he started walking off and my driver said something that made him even more upset, so he came back and they argued some more until the traffic was backed up enough that his friend from the passenger side came over and pulled him away.
Needless to say, we were late to school. But for those of you that know me that is a normal thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)