Sri Lankan Guest of Honor

I recently had the privilege of being invited to attend a debate competition held at the Sri Lankan International School here in Riyadh and act as an official judge. I went with the activities director from my school. We left our campus first thing in the morning and arrived at the Sri Lankan school about 30 minutes later. The school has about 700 students ranging from grades K-12 and is segregated into a boys section and a girls section. As our driver pulled up to the front of the boys school, we noticed a stream of female students and teachers walking over from the girls school. This debate, it turns out, was to be the main event in a multi-act annual literary festival and was to be attended by all students from Grade 3 and up.

My colleague and I were greeted at the door by the school’s superintendent and brought directly to his office where we chatted about his school and their recent athletic and academic awards. Competition, ceremony and recognition, he explained to us, are extremely important to their school community. The event was also to be attended by the Sri Lankan ambassador, the guest of honor. When the ambassador arrived, he was greeted to warm applause and presented with a flower necklace. Having received no information prior to the event and not having a ton of experience with official debate rules, I was a little nervous to see what a big deal this event was to be.

The acts began at about 9:30 in the morning and did not conclude until after 1:00. Students performed cultural dances and musical numbers, comedy acts and sketches, all with a focus on showcasing their understanding of and the nuances of the English language as well as their own native tongues. It seemed that each grade level had some sort of performance so that in effect, the entire school was represented in the fair.

The venue was what had once been the paved plot between two of the school buildings that had been covered with a corrugated metal roof and made into a gymnasium. An elevated wooden stage was constructed in the front and rows of chairs with an aisle dividing the boys section from the girls section filled two thirds of the floor. I got to sit in the front row of the girls section with the other female teachers and occasionally looked back to smile at the tiny little 3rd grade girls whispering and giggling in the row behind mine - all of them wearing in cultural dress and adorned with flowers and even lipstick on a few.

When it was time for the main event, my colleague and I were each handed a manila folder with an official scoring sheet and the lead English teacher explained to us the format. Each team was made up of four students - mixed grades - one girl on each team. There was a team captain whose job it was to go first, then a rebuttal given by the opposing captain, then the first team’s second member, followed by the opposing team’s second member, and so on and so forth until a final closing argument at the end. There was strict 4 minute speaking time for each member. The students had only been assigned the topic the week before and had just a few days to research, prepare their arguments and collect supporting evidence. The topic was “Global Warming is Not a Crisis.” Points were to be awarded for criteria such as as argument, presentation, clarity, delivery, rebuttal, and spontaneity (being able to think on the spot).

The debate began and my partner and rapidly scribbled notes into our folders. Every single student spoke with a passion and fervor that I have not seen in some time. Their command of English vocabulary, clarity of argument and confidence, eye contact and body language was exceptional - all of this, mind you, performed in their second or third language! The performance was beyond impressive and my partner and I could barely keep up with scoring, so enthralled were we in the debate.

When the debate had concluded, the student audience cheered and chanted their favored house name (this school runs on the house system, so imagine Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff). Students held homemade signs and banners touting the colors of the two house names. As my partner and I were going over our notes, I heard my name called over the speaker - I was being asked to say a few words about the performance without revealing the winner. Cue internal screaming! I was NOT prepared for this in the least and was already sweating trying to figure out the complex scoring rubric. Mercifully, the high school principal noticed my discomfort and bought me a few more minutes while I hastily scratched some speaking points onto the pack of my scoring folder. Then, with what I hope was not a noticeably shaky voice, I congratulated both teams on the amount of preparation and commitment they showed today, the confidence and passion with which they spoke and the generosity of the school for entrusting me with the honor of judging such a high profile event. The audience clapped and I happily sat back down.

Rejoining my colleague, we realized we had quite the task ahead of us. Without a true grading scale we just had to decide on a number for each student on each criteria (1-5, 1-7, 1-10) etc. Though we were in agreement that there was a clear winner. We finished up our scoring and with much pomp and ceremony, our folders were collected by the principal and handed to the two-person accounting department seated on the sidelines whose job it was to tally and verify our scores. The anticipation in the gym was palpable. The high school principal fed off of this excitement and really drew out the announcing of the winners. We were not prepared for what happened next. Screams. Literal screams of joy, surprise, outrage and various other emotions filled the gym. Out of nowhere a giant flag of the winning house produced itself from the crowd and was being waved up and down the aisles. High-fives, embraces, claps on the back were awarded to the winning team while the losing team crumbled into a heap of tears and sobbing as they attempted to comfort one another.

The winning team, we had judged, was the team who argued that global warming was in fact, NOT a crisis. And while I personally disagree with that statement, I could not deny that their team had collected more evidence, better evidence, and had presented their claims in a more effective way.
As the celebration continued, the principal and superintendent escorted my colleague and I back to the administration offices where we enjoyed a little banquet together consisting of salads and fried spring rolls and a delicious fluffy vanilla cake with pink icing. And as if this wasn’t enough, we were then presented with award plaques commemorating the date of the event and our participation as judges. The treatment we received was just over the top and incredibly kind and generous and I was so impressed with the prestige and formality with which this event was held, as well as the incredible school spirit around the entire competition.

I look forward to our continuing partnership with this school, especially when we will welcome them to our campus in February for a community-building day.

Winter Break: Turkey and Greece

After a long first semester this year full of ups and downs and stresses, triumphs, and milestones, this past few weeks finally yielded a long Winter Break. We had two weeks off for the winter holiday this year and we really wanted to try to get to see some family for Christmas. The trip to the US is too expensive and too prohibitive for us traveling with a one year old, so Shannon’s family graciously agreed to meet us somewhere in Europe for the holiday. After some discussion, we ended up settling on meeting up in Greece. It was supposed to be one of the warmer options in Europe during winter, and cheaper options, and it afforded everyone in the family with a reasonably priced plane ticket and direct flights.

While booking, Shannon and I discovered that we would have to make a layover somewhere so we decided to make that layover Istanbul. Instead of a few hours we opted for about four or five days in Turkey. What a good decision that was. We left a few days after our break started and got a direct flight to Istanbul. When we arrived, it was immediately clear that the city was one of the most unique and beautiful we had been to. It is such a blend of Asian, European, Christian, Greek, Muslim, Ottoman, and many other cultural influences. Mosques next to churches next to restaurants next to shops and such a unique blend of eclectic influences made Istanbul, in my estimation, a true melting pot. In my perspective, Istanbul was able to take all of the culture that encompassed it and blend it together to create something wholly unique and special.

The food was amazing. We live in the Middle East so we are quite familiar with some of the flavors
of the region including grape leaves, kebab, zataar, various teas and coffees and such, but each of these had its own variation that made it uniquely Turkish. I think we ate some variation of kebab for nearly every meal we had. We also made sure to load up on Turkish delight, baklava, and various other sweets along the way.

We stayed in an apartment in the Sisli area, which was close to a lot of cool restaurants and walking areas, but far enough away from the old town district that we didn’t have to contend much with traffic or loud noises. The apartment we stayed in was perfect for the baby as the owner lives in the US and has children of her own. So everything was soft surfaced, carpeted, minimal corner exposure, and all of the other things important to people in our walk of life. It even came with a crib, high chair, and a toy chest that H really loved. His newly developed walking skills were put to the test as he ran up and down the hallways throughout the week. Nights were filled with the quiet comforts of an early bedtime for the baby and some Netflix on the couch for us.

On our first full day in Istanbul, we arranged for a private walking tour of some of the main sights.
We saw the Hippodrome, various Greek spoils of war, the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern, and the Hagia Sophia. Each place had a huge line, which we were able to conveniently jump in front of due to the baby being with us, and some light, cold rain. Harris especially loved the Blue Mosque where he walked around on the carpet and wandered from person to person admiring the architecture. After seeing those sights, we stopped for a Turkish coffee and then went to the Grand Bazaar, which was utterly overwhelming. We didn’t even see a fraction of the entirety of the place but the various colors, smells, sounds, and shimmering lights of lamps and goods was incredible. We made sure to buy way too much Turkish delight, some pomegranate tea, and went back to the apartment for some afternoon naps.

The next day was Christmas morning, so we took it slow to start. Shannon had arranged for a fancy Christmas lunch at the Four Seasons but we ended up scrapping that plan to go and do our own city exploring. We ended up going to a few restaurants and walking around the city for a few hours. Harris made a few friends along the way. It’s amazing how friendly and kind everyone was. The younger adult Turkish men were especially friendly with Harris, which was somewhat unexpected. He managed to bring out the cooing playful side in various bartenders, waiters, and passers by.

Our last full day was occupied by some more city wandering. We tried to visit the old town area again and continue our exploring put we were put off by some rain and cold and ended up mostly staying inside that day. All in all, we had very high expectations for Turkey and they were all exceeded. The people were friendly. The food was amazing. Travel was easy and affordable. But most importantly the culture was something to truly behold.


After we were done with our trip to Turkey, we made our way to Athens. When we got there, we took a taxi to our apartment. We had booked a giant penthouse suite in Athens that was big enough to accommodate us, Shannon’s parents, her sisters, and her sister’s boyfriend. So 7 adults and one baby total. The place was pretty big and had huge windows providing a fantastic panorama of the city. There was ample space for everyone and it was close to a variety of amenities we needed. The only problem is that everything was sharp rocks, slate, glass, and cold. So the place would have been ideal for an aesthetically minded traveler, but traveling with a baby, and having just recently left the most perfectly baby friendly place possible left Shannon and I, a little disappointed with the apartment. We settled in and did a little exploring the first day, including a nice trip to a restaurant that we had a nice lunch at.

The next day, the rest of the squad arrived. It was fantastic to have Harris be able to see and play with some of his family members, and obviously it was great for us to spend time with them as well. He was showered with love, and Christmas gifts and toys (thank goodness) and we spent the rest of the day in the apartment.

The next morning, we went out to a tour that we arranged to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon. The weather was a little chilly and wet but we went out resolute to take on the day in our winter gear. We started at the museum and got the intro from our guide. Then Harris decided it was going to soon be time for his nap so we pivoted to the Acropolis visit hoping to see it before I had to leave early. Alas reader, we did not. We got about halfway up the hill when he decided he was done for the day and I went back to the apartment to get him settled. The rest of the family was able to venture up to the top and take some great photos though and explored the museum as well. There were nothing but rave reviews about our tour guide, and I resolved to check it out on my own in due time. That evening, we went out to a fantastic restaurant with a view of the Acropolis and took in some more Greek culture. My in-laws were kind enough to stay home with the baby while we ate.

That night and the next day were a little tough as Harris decided that these were the three to four days
that he wanted to pop out 4 new teeth. So there’s that. There was some crying, poor sleeping, and some general moody baby behavior. On one hand I feel a little bad that his carrying on kind of threw a wrench in the relaxed mood of the family hang-out. On the other hand, we would have gone out of our minds without the family support we got, so I guess these are just the things you deal with when you go on vacation with a baby.

The following day, the in-laws ventured out to the town of Nafplion for a tour of the port city, the streets, restaurants and sights. We decided to stay back because of the unpredictable nature of Harris’ mood at the time. However, we were able to make it up to the Acropolis on our own since he was feeling much better that day. We heard the tour guide for that day, and Nafplion as a whole were fantastic.

That night was New Year’s Eve and Shannon’s parents were gracious in staying home with the baby while we went out to eat with the sisters and Mike. We enjoyed another nice night out but due to our previous nights’ poor sleep we came back early and rang in the New Year with aforementioned teething, sleep deprived baby.

The rest of our trip was filled with some lazy days around the apartment, playing with Harris, family time, some more fantastic meals, and exploring the city of Athens. Our winter break was cold, wet, and full of trials, but was adventurous and we had a fantastic time. I am grateful for the opportunity to have had some time off of work, some time with family, and to have explored the great cities of Istanbul and Athens.

Christmas Sprint

It's that time of year again. We are bogged down with grading, exams, lesson planning, supervision duty, and all of the usual stresses. But alas, we're also on the time-frame where we can look forward to our upcoming Winter Break. Along the way our house is filled with the smell of spiced pumpkin scones and hot chocolate. Christmas music fills the house and movies follow at night. We're also at a fun age where Harris can get in on the action. He was a largely passive participant in our Christmas celebrations last year due to developmental restrictions. This year, he's old enough to enjoy it and we are doing everything we can to make sure we do so. I even made his stroller into a sleigh, complete with the traditional eight reindeer and Rudolph leading the way. He has even been chased around by neighborhood kids while we were on a walk, and he was called "Baby Santa." So there's that. The compound had a Christmas festival and tree lighting ceremony (kind of lame, but the effort is still applaudable), and I am sneaking in every opportunity I can to wear my Christmas tie to work.

Now I am sitting here listening to Christmas music, awaiting the pending doom of 86 essays headed for my desk tomorrow after exams conclude, and my self-imposed exile until I finish grading them. But soon, on the horizon, is time with family again, and a few trips to explore some more cool places. Here's to getting through it, and getting to the fun stuff on the other side of that pile of papers.

Florence

Having endured what may have been the longest, most excruciating quarter of school since we were both beginning teachers, Justin and I limped, crawled and hobbled our way to fall break. We had originally planned to spend our week in Lebanon exploring Beirut and Byblos but we decided to cancel after watching the protests grow over the past couple of weeks. Fortunately we found some last minute flights to Rome and found ourselves in Florence for the break. Interesting fact - in Italy, Florence is not even called Florence, it's called Firenze. 

Maybe its nerves or anxiety, but for whatever reason none of us ever seem to sleep well the night before a trip and this time was even worse. The three of us each managed about 3 hours of sleep. Then we had to leave the house at 4:30 in the morning to catch an early flight. This made the perfect recipe for a really rough flight for the little man. Justin and I basically spent the duration of our two flights walking up and down the aisles with Harris and trying to get him to sleep. Finally after sheer exhaustion he fell asleep on my shoulder as I was pacing the back of the plane. And if you’ve ever known the dilemma of deciding whether or not to risk setting down a baby you just got to sleep so that he might be more comfortable and so that you may regain feeling in your arms and neck, you will understand the drama and suspense of the maneuver. Imagine the scene in Indiana Jones “Raiders of the Lost Ark” where Indiana snatches the golden idol and leaves a bag of sand in its place as to not trigger the booby trap. Justin basically got kicked out of his seat so that Harris could sprawl across the row and sleep soundly. 

Rather than dealing with checking into a hotel and out the next morning, we bravely opted to go straight from Rome to Florence via train. While this would add another 3 or so hours to our already arduous day of travel, we reasoned that it would be better to just get all the travel over with and then once we arrived at our apartment in Florence we would be settled. On the 2 ½ hour ride to Florence, Justin and I enjoyed a craft beer from the refreshments car and once again took turns wrangling Harris who, turns out, hates sitting still on trains almost as much as he hates sitting still on planes. Coincidentally, Harris reached a new level of independence and strong headedness at exactly the same time as our trip was scheduled. Neat. Unable to really fully walk on his own, yet also feeling too grown to just sit in a lap like a baby, he alternated climbing up our fronts by using our rib cages as footholds, then attempting to repel backwards with the gusto of a base jumper. Failure to execute his attempted back dive would result in furious wailing and much to our chagrin, even some biting. I was amused to learn that due to Harris’ current dental arrangement, bite marks closely resemble that of a little rat’s. And by the end of the train ride, Justin’s shoulder looked like he had been attacked by an angry little rat. Justin was understandably less amused.

Finally we arrived in Florence and checked into our apartment, which was about a 30 minute walk outside of downtown in a quiet residential area. Justin dashed out in the rain to find us a margherita pizza for dinner while I bathed and fed Harris and tucked him in. The next morning I located a moka pot and boiled us some espressos on the stove. After we were able to pull ourselves together we walked back into town and found a little panini shop called I Fratellini that served simple, fresh, delicious sandwiches of mozzarella, prosciutto, tomato and arugula, and mini glasses of wine. There are no tables, just a small stand-up bar that can only fit about two people side by side. We paused to eat our sandwiches, little flakes of crusty bread falling all over us. We then took another sandwich and a small bottle of wine to go for a picnic once we got to Pisa - our big excursion of the day.

We decided that we would jump on another train (because we are masochists, I guess?) to get up to Pisa for some sightseeing. Once again, Harris voiced and mimed his displeasure in rail travel. It rained the whole way over but after arriving at the train station we decided it was raining light enough that we could probably manage walking the 30 or so minutes it would take to get to the leaning tower. The town of Pisa was quiet and sleepy, maybe because it was a Sunday. After winding around some lovely cobblestoned streets, there it was - the leaning tower of Pisa! We hurriedly snapped our family photos - you can see how thrilled Harris looks in them! Then suddenly, the skies opened up and it dumped cold rain. A forceful wind also came up out of nowhere, which actually blew peoples’ umbrellas inside out and sent the sightseers scurrying for cover under any possible ledge around the church. We sheltered in the lobby of a museum and looked in vain for a cab or a way to call an Uber. As soon as the rain slackened to a reasonable level, we decided to just make a run for it and speed walked all the way back to the train station and headed back to Florence.

Our next adventure took us to the Castello Trebbio, a Tuscan castle built in 1185 by the Pozzi family - rivals to the Medicis. We booked a small group tour but it wound up being only the three of us. We learned about the history of the Pozzi family, the conspiracy they planned against the Medicis and the bloody revenge feud that it resulted in. We got to visit the cellars and of course, no castle is complete without its very own dungeon! We learned about the Chianti region and the functionality of the little straw baskets you traditionally see around bottles of Chianti wine. The tour then brought us to the kitchen where we had a private pasta making lesson - well I had a private lesson. Justin was in and out of the kitchen keeping Harris occupied. I learned how to make a well in the flour for the egg and how to slowly incorporate the egg until the dough is formed. I learned how to tell when the dough is ready - when you poke it and it no longer springs back. I also learned how to make some pasta sauces; how the ingredients should be added one at a time - to properly honor the taste and flavor of each one; how you should transfer the sauce to a fresh pan if you’ve left it simmering for too long and the bottom is scorched - so as not to scrape the burn tomatoes into the sauce. And I learned how it is a misconception that you can use bad or cheap wine for cooking, because this will only result in bad tasting sauce. And finally, I learned that when making sauce you always need two bottles of good wine - one for the sauce, and once for the cook. 

Once I had kneaded the dough and sliced it into fine noodles and the sauce was happily simmering, we were brought into a dining room that had a huge crackling fireplace in the corner. We were seated at a round table and given a wine tasting. Then we got to eat the pasta and sauce that I had made. Even Harris got to pull up to the table and was given a small plate of plain pasta noodles. But why eat freshly homemade pasta when you can instead just gnaw on the edge of medieval dining table? I’m afraid to admit that I think our son may have damaged a piece of antiquity by marking it with his little rat teeth, but perhaps it will just blend in with the other nicks and scratches… For dessert we enjoyed crunchy biscotti cookies dunked in honey-sweet vino santo. Then on our way out, we bought two bottles of wine to enjoy over the next couple of days. 

Having taken our obligatory momento photographs and completed our pasta and wine experience, we relaxed on our final day in Florence. We had a slow, easy morning and for the third time this week visited a local panetteria that had delicious sweets and cappuccinos. A favorite treat of mine was a multi-layered, crunchy cookie dusted in powdered sugar that resembles an oyster. I found out later these are called sfogliatelle - which means “lobster tail” so I wasn’t far off. We took a pleasant walk into town following the Arno river all the way down and ducked into a craft brewery for a couple of beers and some delicious fried mozzarella sticks.

To make the journey home a little more manageable, we decided to head back to Rome a day before our flight. We stayed in a cute little boutique hotel and managed to find a gelato shop right around the corner. We spent our final evening savoring our last bottle of special castle wine.

The Embassy Awaits

In each of the past few years that we've lived in Saudi, and also in the time we lived in Ecuador, we have been occasionally invited to various events at the US Embassy. These are usually a lot of fun, pretty casual, and also different from our every day routines. Last week, Shannon, who teaches the parent of a high ranking official at one of the embassies in Saudi (not the US Embassy),was invited to go to an independence day celebration with her spouse.

Interested in the opportunity to break up the monotony of our last few weeks, we jumped at the chance. After some hemming and hawing, we found a babysitter who we felt comfortable with and got him all set up for the night. Our only two other date nights since the baby was born were both covered by family members. So this felt a little weird at first. But we got over it and got ourselves ready for the night. We got somewhat dressed up and met up with another couple of teachers who had also been invited.

When we arrived at the embassy, we quickly realized that our kind of dressed up look, which can mostly be described as 'business casual' was simply not going to cut it. We walked up to a red carpet and people donning tuxedos and ballroom gowns. We, the teachers, among the dignitaries, ambassadors, business moguls, and other important folk, stood out.

It was a little uncomfortable to be honest but we enjoyed ourselves. We had some delicious food, had some time out of the house, and got to immerse ourselves in what seemed like the clandestine gathering of various Bond villains. I believe I heard multiple conversations about keeping untraceable money in offshore accounts. All in all it was a fun night, and an opportunity that doesn't come across too often.

Do I stay or do I go now?

The time is here for us to take another trip for Fall Break. We have worked hard and held our noses to the grindstone for a while now. So this year, in an effort to continue to explore more of the Middle East, we booked trips to Beirut for our break. We did research on all of the local foods to eat, restaurants to visit, and neighborhoods to check out. We went through the process of finding an apartment for rent that would be close to the sights we wanted to see, but that was still baby friendly. 

Well, now we’ve got a choice to make. Following a path of many countries around the world recently, and of countries in the region specifically, the people of Lebanon have risen up and decided that for a variety of reasons, they no longer want the government structures, systems, and people who are in charge to be in power any longer. Protests began over the last weekend and quickly escalated. As recently as last night, there were reports of 1.5 million people protesting. The streets are full of protesters exercising their rights and fighting for political change.Admittedly, I have to say, it looks like the protesters are having a great time. Spirits are high in the streets, and some protests have even featured DJs and turned into all out parties.  

While we have been lucky to have not been directly put in the middle of too many political movements, we do acknowledge and appreciate the rights of citizens to seek better lives for themselves. But...we’ve been put in an admittedly weird position. Our flights are booked, our apartment paid for, and tours are arranged. In two days, everything could blow over and be fine. Or it could continue to escalate and turn into a scene that we don’t want to be involved in. The risks of going range from not having access to restaurants and grocery stores due to protesting, or as severe as return flights being cancelled. The risks if we cancel include the fact that we will lose a lot of money that we’ve already paid, and we would risk the opportunity to see a really amazing country and city. So now we’ve got about four days to decide if we are going to rebook a trip to somewhere else, or try to ride it out and go for it. Yet another in a long line of unique experiences to living overseas. We aren’t planning our trip with weather or activities in mind. We’re trying to predict and account for the will of the people, the concessions of a government, and the whims of fate. 

Dubai

I was recently reviewing the most recent posts we've made since we've lived in Saudi Arabia and I thought back to our experiences in Ecuador, and the posts from that time. I thought to myself how most of my posts since arriving in Saudi have been mostly about going to other places. I regret that and I feel that this fact is a bit reductive. In reality, our lives are full and complex. They are more than our vacations and our travels. But honestly, so many of the things that make up our day to day lives do not focus on adventures that I would state as particularly noteworthy to readers of this blog. The truth of the matter is that we work for a very high performing school, with very high standards in terms of our efforts professionally. Accordingly, nearly every night, after the baby is bathed, fed, and put to sleep, we both stay up and work. Every weekend, we both work. We have not had the opportunities to enjoy the fruits of "free time." This is not exclusively due to the demands of our job, as we did have a baby by choice and that was the best choice we've ever made. However, this does explain the absence of stories feature llama pugilism, volcano hikes, trips to the Amazon, and local villages and markets. We have explored Riyadh and Saudi as a whole a bit, and we hope do to so more in the coming months. In the meantime, awareness of that fact, and stories of the limited time we do have to do things of note will have to suffice, and posts about various trips will probably serve as the only stories of note; unless a groundswell of support for teething, diaper, and nap time stories comes flooding in.

All of that being said and acknowledged, I did get to take a pretty cool trip recently, for work. There was a leadership conference in Dubai last week that I was told about and recommended to attend. Given that we are provided with a generous professional development fund yearly, and that I had never been to Dubai, I talked it over with Shannon and booked it. We are at a point with the baby that we are really trying to figure out some routines and habits that will help facilitate his sleeping through the night. It is a team effort every evening, so I certainly felt bad leaving for a weekend without reinforcements available to Shannon. But she thought it would be a great idea for me to go, so I did.

I left straight from school on a Thursday afternoon and arrived at the airport rather quickly. I sped through the security line and immigration and found myself in the lounge at the Riyadh airport with a quickness. This being the first time I have traveled alone and without a baby since, well having a baby, I was kind of surprised by how quick this all took. I guess the days of breezing through airports are gone for me for a while. But I enjoyed it last week nonetheless. After a smooth flight, we landed in Dubai around 9:00pm. By the time I got to my hotel, got dinner, and unpacked, it was getting rather late. I took all of the room service, laundry, and spa service pamphlets off the bed, and I turned off the lights to go to sleep. My thumb caught on something that I presumed was another pamphlet or something but it felt peculiar. I turned on a light to find a woman's bra locked around my hand. I quickly threw it to the floor and called the hotel front desk. While the presence of a piece of clothing is no problem, the implication this sparked, that the bed had not been cleaned, was clear in my mind. I told them I was fine for the night but that I'd like to have the room cleaned the next day.

When that next day came, I went to my courses and classes all day. We started at 7 and went until 5. I stopped by the front desk during lunch and was given a new key and a promise that my things would be moved from one room to a new room for my inconvenience. After my classes, I asked where my room was, and I was told that I would have to go to the other tower where the Royal Executive Suite was, which was my new room. Upon entering my new room, I found a sprawling space, with jacuzzi tubs, tvs in the mirrors, and a massage chair the size of a dentist's, or of a cockpit in an F-16. It was glorious. I sent Shannon some photos of my new digs (which in hindsight was probably a bad idea since the previous night's sleep was awful due to a sick baby).

After that, I fought my greatest urge to sit in the dentist chair of luxury and go to bed early, and I shared an Uber to a local spot where a colleague and I stopped to see the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building. It was amazing to stare up at it from the foot. I couldn't shake the story of Jack and the Beanstalk as the building climbed higher and higher beyond clouds, birds, and seemingly possibility. Feeling sufficiently satisfied at my adventuring, we went back to the hotel where I had dinner and an early bedtime.

The next day we attended courses all day until 4. At that point, I left from the hotel and went to the airport where I killed some time until my flight. I was eager and anxious to get home to Shannon and the baby. I was graced with the luck of an empty row and eager to try to sneak in an hour of sleep on the two hour flight. But after boarding and rolling out to the runway, our captain told us that someone in the front of the plane had been behaving badly and was violating plane safety regulations. I still have no idea what happened, but I like to imagine he was vigorously dancing and could not be convinced to sit. We went back to the gate and for some inexplicable reason, we stayed there for about two hours. We eventually left and after our flight landed, our two hour flight had turned into a four hour journey.

After clearing customs, I called my ride I had arranged only to be informed he decided to leave and didn't want to pick me up. I ordered an Uber and when he called me and found out I didn't speak Arabic, he hung up on me, and then started doing laps around the pickup area, refusing to cancel the pickup. So I had to cancel the pickup and get another ride, eat the cancellation charge, and I was in a mood. After getting in a new ride, a guy tried to charge me double the rate, so I told him to pull over. He slowed down and as I opened the door he sped up again. We went back and forth arguing until he agreed to the original rate. I was not a guy to be messed with on that way home. I eventually had him drop me off at the front of the compound, not wanting him to come in, and walked myself the last ten minutes home at 1:30am. It was a crazy trip home, but a good trip to a new place nonetheless.

Summer in Europe

When we make our way back to the Middle East in the summer, we like stopping somewhere about halfway to help break up the trip and take some of the punch out of the serious jet lag that comes from flying west to east. What’s especially cool is that we can usually manage to do this by finding a 5-6 day layover somewhere, which adds virtually no expense to the airline tickets.

This year we decided to stop in Ireland for one of these extra long layovers, splitting our time between Dublin and Wicklow. 

Our first hotel was on Merion Street in downtown Dublin, just a few blocks from the hustle and bustle. We began our own walking tour with a visit just across the street to St. Stephen’s Green - a beautifully landscaped park with rose gardens, curving walking paths and duck ponds (which curiously seemed to be overrun with seagulls). We visited the statue of Oscar Wilde in a neighboring park and then made our way down to the Guinness Storehouse - a 5-story circular building that provides the history of Guinness, the brewing process, Guinness advertising campaigns throughout the decades, and of course a sampling. The 5th floor and final stop on the tour is a sky lounge with 360 degree views of Dublin and a complimentary pint. Justin and I took turns feeding Harris some applesauce as we enjoyed the view.

The next stop was to a random pub for lunch. This turned out to be a horseracing bar where they were taking live bets and watching the races. There were only older men in the pub but nobody seemed in the least bothered that we were there or that we had a baby with us. We had a chicken sandwich and a corned beef sandwich as Harris discovered he was a fan of horseracing and bet 20 puffs on his favorite pony - Poppin Corks. Good ole Corks did not win, but no one tried collecting on his puffs. 

We then walked past St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin Castle and strolled around the Trinity College campus. There were a fair amount of cobblestone streets - much to Harris’ delight. Finally, we had an early dinner at The Ginger Man pub where I had a delicious Guinness pie (think Shepherd's pie but with a darker, thicker Guinness gravy). 

The next part of our trip took us about an hour and a half south to Wicklow - known as “the Gardens of Ireland.” We had reservations at an old hotel called the Glendalough that was previously a Monk settlement in the 6th century. The remains of a medieval cemetery and church were sitting just behind the hotel. From the back of the hotel you could pick up on of several walking trails ranging in distance from 3 to 10 kilometers. We took a different trail each of the 3 days we were here and had a lovely time strolling through the green hills and stopping to rest at one of the 3 lakes along the way. The weather couldn’t have been nicer, with temperatures in the low 70s, no rain, and a nice breeze. On our last day we took the longest trail to a rock quarry of an old abandoned mining village which was pretty cool and we managed to take Harris in the stroller almost all of the way and he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the ride and the scenery.

Something interesting we found was that there was a surprisingly high number of Russian and

Ukrainians working at the hotels and restaurants we visited. One wouldn’t necessarily expect to hear a Russian accent when staying in a medieval bed and breakfast in the countryside of Ireland. However, our local driver explained to us that as Ireland becomes an even more popular tourist destination, the country simply does not have enough locals to staff the high demand in hotels and tourist locations and so that it is not uncommon for Ukrainians and Russians to obtain work visas and come and work for the holiday season. 

Another interesting thing we learned from John, our driver was that the native Irish language, or as we may call it, Gaelic/Celtic was only spoken by about 10% of the population about 10 years ago. So the country made a concerted effort to preserve the language and it was again taught in public schools from the primary grades. So that now, the population who speaks Irish has doubled to about 20% and in another 5 years could be back up to half the population. However, he explained that some of the older generation were complaining that the Irish students are learning in school is not “proper” in terms of formal grammar, due to the whole language approach that has been used to teach school children. John joked that now his grandchildren sometimes speak to him in Irish, knowing that he cannot understand and that they get quite the kick out of this.

After having a flight canceled last minute, we made our connecting flight to London, where we had a day and a night to spend before making the last leg of our journey back to Riyadh. We stayed at a basic airport hotel since we had an early morning flight and made the most of our one day visit with a trip down to Buckingham Palace, the London Eye, Big Ben and Parliament, and Westminster which were all conveniently located within a 1 square mile radius. We walked across Westminster Bridge over the Thames River which was incredibly crowded with street performers and onlookers playing shell games. We managed to visit all of these sites within 2 hours and made it back to our hotel for an early dinner and glasses of red wine from the hotel bar sipped slowly and appreciatively - our final adult beverage before returning to Riyadh.

Our original itinerary was supposed to be a direct flight from London to Riyadh, taking about 6 hours. However, the airline made changes to our flight a few weeks prior and we would first have to make a stopover in Jeddah. While this in and of itself would not have been a huge deal, the reason for this added stopover was that the Hajj season had just begun and hundreds of Muslims were making their obligatory pilgrimage to Mecca. Needless to say, the 3 of us really stood out on this flight. Some people wait their whole lives to be able to make the pilgrimage to Mecca and so for many of the passengers, they were elderly and this was perhaps their first time ever on a plane. The male pilgrims all dress in what look like white cotton towels - one wrapped around their waist and another slung over their shoulders almost like a shawl. Their chests are bare underneath. The women wear traditional black abayas. And because of the cleansing rituals that are required during this trip, the lines to get into the bathroom were long and constant throughout the 6 hour flight, which was problematic at times with a baby needing constant changing but we made it work. There was a real collective sense of community on the plane. As we came within 30 minutes of reaching Jeddah - the final stop before Mecca, several men stood up and led the passengers in a chanting sort of prayer, asking God to accept their offerings and bless their pilgrimage. Men on both sides of us were reading aloud from pocket-sized Qurans and if you’ve never hear the Quran recited before, it does have a lovely melodic sound to it that I found quite enjoyable and Harris was also quite intrigued to observe all the interesting happenings around him.

We arrived in Jeddah around 10 pm and virtually the entire plane deboarded, leaving the 3 of us to

have the entire cabin to ourselves for the remaining hour flight to Riyadh. The flight attendants passed the time by playing with Harris and passing him back and forth and after nearly 9 hours on an airplane, Justin and I were more than willing to hand him over for a bit. Finally we landed back in RIyadh and made it back to our villa which was just as we had left it in June. And after months of travel and exploring and adventures, it did feel good to be back in our own space.

Summer in the States

True to our past five years, we’ve gone a little while without a blog post in the summer. I think this time around we preferred to enjoy the time in the summer before sitting down to record it all, so I’ll do my best to include everything with as much accuracy as possible despite the lengthy break in between posts. 

After school let out, we stuck around for an extra day or two to get our stuff packed and get our house ready for no habitation for two months. This included stuff like making sure windows were fully sealed to protect from sandstorms, cleaning up a bit, and moving all of the house plants to one room of the house so we could leave some shades open for sunlight. 

The baby had traveled before this summer. He had gone on some shorter flights like during our trip to Egypt and Prague, but never anything as long or daunting as our trip to NY promised to be. We were in for fourteen hours on a plane. Even though it was direct, and we didn’t have to manage layovers or dragging extra baggage through airports, it still loomed large in front of us as a major challenge. In addition to all of that, we’d have to contend with the fact that he had just settled into a pretty consistent routine including bedtime. We were about to throw that for a loop with some serious jet-lag. 

The morning of the flight, we left for the airport around 3:00am. Things went as smoothly as anything can go when you wake up at 2:00am for the day. When we got on the plane, we were pretty comfortable because we had booked a whole row to ourselves. To make things even better, Shannon had researched and purchased an inflatable footrest cube thing that when inflated, perfectly filled the space where your legs go. It created a perfectly level platform with the seat, extending the seat to the seat back in front and created a bed for the baby. This was perhaps the best $20 we ever spent.

Since it was a Saudia flight, there was a square of space near the back of the plane meant for prayer for those who needed to pray along the flight. It was right in the center of the plane and was probably about 7 feet by 7 feet roughly. When people weren’t praying, it was a great place to stand with the baby. He did a great job of sleeping for much of the flight, but 14 hours is still 14 hours. We had to occupy him by taking turns walking up and down the aisles and by hanging in this space a few times. Another family even took their three kids to the area and had a picnic. I highly approve and encourage all airlines to create a similar space for the sanity of their flock of passengers. 

When we landed, we went straight to the rental car area at JFK Airport and sleep deprived and eager to be done traveling, I was nearly hypnotized/tricked into every conceivable add-on, insurance, toll pass, bell, whistle, and ribbon. It would have nearly doubled our rental car purchase. Luckily, my much saner and clear-minded wife corrected that before we were on our way. 

We drove to Shannon’s sisters’ apartment and let out a big sigh of relief. Here we were, finally. It was Harris’s first time being in the US. He is too young to know the difference, but it was nice to have this tiny American citizen set foot on a place he could always call home. When we got to the apartment, there were New York bagels waiting for us and we spent some time with the family. Luckily, by the time we got there, it was early afternoon, and probably only an hour or two earlier (local time) than Harris usually goes to bed. So we gave him his bath, fed him, and put him to bed. The length of the trip, and the serendipitous timing of the flight ended up working out. The tired baby slept through the night, woke up the next morning, and never had to struggle with jet-lag. 

We spent our next few days in New York walking around the local parks, watching movies with the sisters, and frequenting a favorite deli of ours. We had some unique to New York experiences along the way, like the probably mentally ill and certainly homeless man satiating some of his carnal pleasures by himself on the street one sunny afternoon, and the experience of having to move the car for street cleaning, only to realize that I had to drive around in circles for about three and a half hours to find a new parking spot. All in all our time in New York was relaxing and allowed us to recharge after the long journey. 

Then we drove down to New Jersey to see my family. This was something I was eager to do since my family was not able to come to Riyadh to visit the baby when he was born. This was the first time anyone in my family was going to be able to meet him. Due to the heavy concentration of my family, all living within about 20 minutes of each other, it was perfect. We stopped at our hotel, loaded up on some supplies and then went to my mom’s house to catch up where we were met by my grandmother as well. So baby Harris got to meet his grandma, and great grandma at the same time. It was pretty cool having four generations of family in the room at the same time. 

 

One of those first days, I went to my niece’s school and picked her up early. We went and got some subs and drove up to her first baseball game. She and I hung out, ate snacks, yelled at the opposing team’s players, ate more snacks, cheered for the Phillies, and had a great time. I was glad and grateful for being able to spend some time with her. I miss having the ability to do that throughout the year. 

After one or two nights in a hotel, we made our way to the beach house that we rented for two weeks.

Due to the fact that most of my childhood friends and all of my family live very close together, most of our trips to New Jersey involve us spending about 40% of each and every day in the car going to visit people. This year, with the baby in tow, we wanted to make sure we spent as much time with people as possible, and made it easier on ourselves with the baby. So our plan was to rent the apartment and have people come visit us. We had the top floor of a duplex that served us perfectly. We had enough space to set the baby up in his own room while we hung out in a large living room area. Our friends Justin and Megan came to meet us the night we got there and brought some food. We shared some food and drink and spent some time with their kids as well catching up. 

The following days were a bit of a blur. We spent days on the beach, and on the boardwalk. I grew up going to the beach nearly every day in the summer, so I really enjoyed taking him to the beach. He sat in the sand, ate some sand, played, went in the ocean, and did the whole thing and loved it. Days were spent on the beach, or having family visit. My sister even took him to the zoo for the first time. He was especially interested in the buffalo and lions. During the rest of those two weeks, Harris was able to meet many of my best friends, my aunts, my cousins, my sister, my uncle, and a whole slew of other family members. One weekend, Shannon’s sisters even made it down from New York to spend a few days with us. It was really special for me and Shannon. My uncle made the drive up from Washington D.C. to meet the baby and brought us a steaming plate of my Aunt Donna’s famous blueberry muffins, which Harris of course wanted to try. One of the things we miss the most about living in the states is our time with family. He was 8 months old before any of his family on my side even met him. But we enjoyed our visits quite a bit. They were the highlight of my summer. Evenings were spent with more visits, grilling swordfish from the fish market a block away, and hanging out in the backyard. It was everything I wanted from my time there.  

When our time in New Jersey was coming to an end, we checked out of the beach house and drove to a local vineyard with Megan, Justin, their kids, and Shannon’s sister Meagan. They all were doing a 5k race through the vineyard. It was great. The weather was beautiful and there was food and wine for anyone interested in partaking. I stayed with the kids and cheered them on as they raced. It was a really nice way to close the chapter on our summer in New Jersey. After the race we drove back up to New York and crashed with Shannon’s sisters again. The next day, we made our way to Florida. 

Our flight was relatively uneventful. We were greeted by Shannon’s parents. They had fully prepared for the arrival of their grandson. They had a crib, high chair, and some toys there waiting for him, which was helpful for us since we didn’t have to continue to lug that stuff around with us. We spent the next three weeks doing some online summer courses for professional development, hanging around and relaxing, and of course doing our summer errands. We got some things out of the way like dentist appointment and got Harris a Social Security card. We went out and bought some things we can’t really get in Riyadh. But mostly, we spent time playing with Harris and hanging out with my in-laws. 

Shannon ran another 5k race on the 4th of July, which was pretty great too. This time I joined her. We dressed up in all of the America stuff we could find, drove downtown, and ran the race through the cobblestone streets of Winter Park. At the end of the race, there were coolers and coolers of free watermelon for each contestant so Shannon and I each ate our fill. When we got home, we prepped for a BBQ that we hosted at Shannon’s parents’ house. Shannon’s sisters and one of their boyfriends came down for that as well so we were able to spend some time with them again. For clarity’s sake, one sister had the one boyfriend. He joined us for the weekend as well. 

The day after the 4th of July, we rented out a small cabana at a local river. This is one of our favorite things to do every summer. The place is called Wekiva Island. It is not an island at all, but a pretty cool hangout spot along a river that leads to some natural springs. It’s a great place to grill some food, or order from the food truck, swim, canoe, paddle board, and hang out. One must always proceed with caution in Florida as these rivers sometimes have alligators, but if you are vigilant, and you aren’t the slowest swimmer, you’re usually okay. They even have a bar with lots of craft beer for those who want that. In this particular case, we rented a small cabana for 8 people. But we were called the next day with apologies for overbooking. It turns out we couldn’t have that cabana. But to make up for it, we were going to be set up with a indoor/outdoor space with a private dock, waiter, indoor (and air conditioned) space, private bathrooms, and enough space for 60+ people. Also to make up for our inconvenience we were given a $100 gift card to cover any incidental purchases for the day. It was fantastic. We listened to music, went swimming, read books, played with the baby, and it was all free!

In addition to a few more beach trips, and some more time with friends, we also took Harris to Disney World for the first time with our friends Meg and Bethany. This being Florida, it was roughly 200 degrees outside, but we were able to go later in the afternoon when it was cooler, and we only stayed for a few hours. We mostly did inside stuff for the benefit of air conditioning. It was cool to see him on some of the iconic Disney rides. 

All in all, our summer in the US was fantastic. It was everything I wanted and needed it to be. We were able to introduce Harris to a lot of the people who mean the world to us. He met his family, made a connection to his home country, and got to go on many adventures. We were able to catch up with people, and see and do a lot of our favorite things as well. As our time in the US was coming to an end, we set our sights on another transatlantic flight and a trip to Ireland and England. But I’ll save that for another post. 

Mommy Musings

Here is a brief selection of some of my recent musings on new motherhood. Enjoy!

Murphy’s Law for the Morning Rush The operating of a baby’s bodily functions seem to have a direct correlation to how late his parents are running in the morning. It's as if the subtle rise of rush and anxiety in the morning is physically released into the air, hanging like an ether of dread, to ingested by said baby, and then immediately expelled in the most forceful and inconvenient matter possible. Not once has a blowout occurred while I’ve been casually lounging around the house. It is a scientific fact that 100% of baby blowouts occur as you are stepping foot out of the front door, arms leaden with bags and baby, with 3 minutes to get to work on time. And 85% of the time one or both parents will require a change of clothes as well. I don’t create the data, I just report on it. Of All the Things I Never Thought I’d Hear My Husband Ever Say to Me… “JUST SMUSH IT DOWN THE DRAIN!!” ranks as #1 on the list. For context, please read previous post. Rockin’ the Mom-Bod I recently did the closet-shuffle where I bagged up all of my maternity clothes to put into storage and simultaneously brought out my pre-baby wardrobe to see what fits and what I can start wearing again. I had dumped a bag of dresses on my bed that I was trying on one at a time and sorting into three neat piles: Fits Now, Will Maybe Fit Later, and Ha-Ha Will Never Fit Again. It was during this process that my housekeeper noticed the pile of dresses on the bed. “Madame give away?” she asked me. Oh, no, I explained. I’m just trying them on right now. She then frowned and said, “They are very small, madam. Maybe not fit. Madame bigger since baby.” She then turned to said baby who was sitting happily on my bed, chewing his fist as he likes to do and said to him in baby-talk: “Yes! Madam much, much bigger since baby! Baby make madam bigger!” She then happily walked out and left me to my piles of shattered delusions. I mean, she’s not wrong, but dang! Nothing like a little friendly body-shaming to snap you back into reality! Mom Shaming is a Real Thing and it Starts Before the Baby’s Even Born I mean wow, the way people think it’s acceptable to comment on everything from your body to your breastfeeding to your choices about childbirth and child rearing and sleep habits and nighttime routines and weaning and everything else. Sheesh! The worst part is I don’t even think people really realize they’re doing it at the time. We’ve just become so accustomed to inserting ourselves into the choices women make about their own bodies and their families it seems normal. I Am Afraid of Nothing and Everything All at Once I don’t know if it’s a normal mom-thing to randomly picture your baby in situations of great danger, only to then fantasize about how you would heroically rescue them from said danger? Or if this is the work of an overactive imagination. Or if I’m just an utter weirdo. But I have imagined swimming with my baby in a river, my baby being snatched by an alligator, and then me underwater-wrestling my baby from the gator’s jaws, blinding the alligator, snapping his jaws in half, and then emerging from the water with me and baby unscathed. What sort of sick sh*t is that?! I don’t know, but in my fantasy brain I’m like, “Oh yeah, I could totally destroy an alligator to rescue my baby….” Another scenario I have imagined is being in an Argo-style embassy hostage situation where I stick my baby inside my shirt, kangaroo-style, and then army crawl around the embassy, dodging bullets and kidnappers, to find ourselves both safely outside the building where we run to the safety of black SUVs, likely driven by Daniel Craig, Liam Neeson, and MI6. My baby and I are both heroes. We are interviewed for Nightline TV. But these bizarre fantasies also come from the same brain that mistook my husband coming up the stairs at 1:00 in the morning for Voldemort who had come to put the Avada Kedavra curse on the Boy Who Lived and just being frozen like a deer in headlights. (To be fair, he was shuffling up the stairs in a very creepy manner…) *Editor's note, totally normal walking up the stairs. Also I have avoided walking down the stairs at night because I’m afraid I’m going to see Teddy Perkins from Atlanta or Georgina from Get Out staring at me through the kitchen window. I have zero qualms about plucking a booger right out of my baby’s nose with my fingers, yet I also occasionally have to poke his back while he’s sleeping to make sure he’s still breathing. So….I don’t know. I guess maybe it's a maternal instinct to protect that manifests itself in weird ways. I wonder what Freud would make of my reptilian-mother-ID?