Call to Prayer

Until we moved here I the only thing I knew for certain about Islamic prayer was that believers faced a certain direction and knelt on the ground when praying. I'm still not an expert by any means but I have learned that it's very, very structured - and it really matters that, while living in Saudi Arabia, we know exactly when prayer time is.

In Islamic daily life there are five calls to prayer. I carry a schedule in my purse of exactly what time the prayers start each day. It changes weekly, as it is based on what time the sunrise and sunset is for the week. This is the same for all Muslims, regardless of what country they live in. Generally, it is the believer's responsibility to take the opportunity to pray. If you are near a mosque you will hear the call to prayer over an outside loud speaker, just as a reminder but you are certainly not obligated to stop whatever you are doing. However Saudi Arabia, as in many things, takes it a step further, completely blurring the line between culture and religion. Perhaps you could even say there is no line at all.

Prayer time here is mandated. They do not actually stand over anyone to make sure that one prays. However, stores, restaurants, libraries, post offices, businesses, government buildings and any other public places completely close down during prayer time, sometimes even shuttering the doors ten minutes before. Apparently the Mutawwa, the religious police (yes, that is really what they are called, and it is a very apt description) , actually stroll around watching for anyone that is conducting business during the time when all should be praying. It doesn't matter if the shoppers are Muslim, or if the clerks are Muslim, or if the owners of the business are Muslim: everyone MUST stop conducting business during prayer time. There are serious punishments if a storekeeper is caught committing this grave offense.

We have no idea how long each prayer time lasts. Some seem to be around 30 minutes; others closer to an hour and a half. If you are caught downtown in between errands when prayer time starts, there is little to do except sit in your car and wait. Trust me when I say that if you have a couple of monkeys in the back seat, it can be miserable.

Aramco gives us a handy little card to keep in our wallets so we can plan life around the prayer times. Here are the times for this week:

4:39am sunrise
11:26am lunch
2:27pm
4:48pm sunset
6:18 evening

That may not seem too bad, but there are some additional things you need to consider. To begin with, you need to know that all of this only matters OFF the compound. Here inside the walls, you can hear the call to prayer but absolutely nothing grinds to a halt (well, except the bulk foods counter in the grocery store - I still can't figure that one out!). Thankfully we do not live close enough to a mosque to hear the call, which as I said above, starts at sunset. We do hear it when we go about our business though - it's a very loud singing.

Secondly, it takes about 20 minutes to get into town. If I hire a driver and go in the morning, it works out decently - I have to be home by 11:15 for lunchtime anyway. But if we all need to go into town we obviously wait for Steve comes home from work. He walks in the door at 4:15; leaving immediately gets us downtown minutes before the 4:48 prayer time. If we leave at 4:45 (the approx. start of prayer time), we get there around the time the stores are starting to open but we only have an hour to accomplish anything before the next prayer starts. Waiting until after the 6:18 time means you start shopping around 7pm and the boys normally go to bed at 7:30.

We have found a couple ways around the frustration and mess. We try to avoid going downtown during the week unless absolutely necessary. We have figured out a certain McDonald's locks it's front doors during prayer time, but the drive-thru will serve us. Chili's restaurant, which is right across from the Safeway supermarket, will let you in if you are a westerner. If you order your food in the food court at the mall before the start of prayer time, you can sit and eat it while you are waiting for the stores to reopen. Sometimes Safeway will let us continue shopping, but you can't check out until the end of prayer time.

It's a pain in the neck, to put it politely, but living in any foreign country has it's challenges. Thankfully organization and planning ahead are a couple of my strengths. And for all the times we blow it and have to sit and wait, we've learned to keep some entertainment and granola bars in the car for the monkeys.

Our First Cub Scout Campout

They finally did it! Steve and boys somehow managed to get me camping. I haven't gone camping since I was a child, and the longer time goes on - the less I liked the idea. Even given quality equipment, it just sounds like an enormous amount of work, organization and details. I'm fine with the organization and details - just not all the work!

All that being said, I knew that the boys would absolutely love it and family camping would make some wonderful memories in their childhood. I decided that it's something I can give them as a gift. And hopefully I'll grow to enjoy it too. Hopefully.

Our first opportunity came last weekend with the Cub Scout Fall Family Camp Out. It was held at Half Moon Bay - the beach where the sailboat racing took place. To be completely honest with you, I disliked nearly every single minute of it (I wanted to say "hated" but that's a very strong word). One hundred and twenty boys running amok, lots of sand everywhere, a very long walk to the bathrooms, cheap air mattresses that didn't work well, a cheap tent that was wet inside in the morning (I was sleeping next to the tent wall)- I could continue but I'm sure you don't want to read the griping.

So, on the positive side, the weather was perfect and the sunrise was out of this world. The boys had a FANTASTIC time. Steve made a lovely breakfast - we had beef bacon, hashbrowns, coffee and eggs. Isn't he amazing? Here's a picture of the sun rising low in the sky, and if you look carefully on the lower left you can see Steve bending over while cooking.


The camp out was very well organized and I was appreciative of the work that went into it. There were activities planned all day with awards ceremonies, campfires, and skits into the evening. Thankfully lights out was enforced at 10pm so we had a reasonable (?) night sleep when 120 boys woke simultaneously at 5am with the sunrise. No, I'm not kidding.

And I actually learned some things. I learned to call dibs on the middle of the tent, so that I won't wake up with a wet pillow. I learned that even though you think the boys can just sleep in their clothes for one night, it's a bad, bad idea: they will be FILTHY (and possibly wet) and you won't want them to get into the sleeping bag that way. I learned that after future beach campouts, it's a good idea to hose them off before putting them in the tub at home, lest the tub clog up from all the sand. I learned to bring a mug for my coffee. And most of all, I learned that sometimes doing things you detest (oops, there's another strong word) can still bring you pleasure when you watch those you love having a great time.

I promised my family to give camping a second chance - the next time being with just maybe us and another family or two. It can only get better.

Misc. photos of everyday life

More pictures? Everyone loves to see pictures, right? Here are some miscellaneous ones of the last month or so that don't fit neatly into any particular posting. Some pictures need no explanation, for others...there is no explanation!



This one of these two unknown guys at Carrefore, a French chain similar to Meijers / Fred Meyers, was already on the brand new SD card just I bought at Carrefore. Nice. (By the way, if you recognize them, you might want to tell them that it's just courtesy when trying out a camera to delete any pictures you take before putting the card back in the packaging.) What a hoot!

The Sticker

It started out just like any other trip to the clinic in Dhahran: the boys and I sitting on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room, surrounded by covered Saudi moms and their children. With appointments for flu shots and typhoid immunizations, we had already mistakenly gone to the primary care building instead of the specialty building. The boys were a bit crabby not just because they knew they were there for the shots, but because there was the potential to not make it back to school in time for some activities they were looking forward to that afternoon. Despite all my best efforts to get there early, get in and then get out...we still had to wait. Wait on the plastic chairs to be called in for the height/weight/temperature readings, then wait again on the chairs to be called into the doctor's room to discuss the immunizations and any other concerns, then wait again on the chairs to be called back for the actual immunizations. Impatient boys are not good at waiting - their mother is even worse. Thankfully, or perhaps with a bit of foreboding, I had given them permission to bring their DS games along. This kept most of the griping at bay.

On the hard plastic chairs in front of us was an Arab family with two young boys. The boys looked to be about ages four and six, judging from the wiggling and complaining going on. They did not bring anything along to do, and started looking longingly at the video games my boys held in their hands. The younger one spoke first. "What is that?" he asked no one in particular, speaking remarkably good English. His mother quickly told him it was a DS. Almost immediately the older boy and my two began conversing about what games they had, many of which were in common. Already bored with this topic, the younger boy showed me the Winnie the Pooh sticker on his shirt.

It really wasn't anything special at first glance. Even at the second glance, it was still just a sticker. Actually it was far from an ordinary sticker.

He launched into a monologue, none of which I understood. The translation included something about earning the sticker by doing a job at preschool that morning. Being very careful, he took the sticker off his shirt in order to give me closer view. I leaned forward to look but he expected much more from me: he wanted me to hold his treasure. As I gently examined it, I told him it was wonderful and he must be very proud of it. Then he wanted me to keep it. Of course I insisted that he keep it but he would hear nothing of it. Feeling very honored, I pressed in firmly on the back of my hand and thanked him profusely. Shortly after this exchange, the family was called in to see the doctor. The small boy beamed at me as we said goodbye.

Within minutes another mother and child took their place on the plastic chairs. The small girl, around the age of five, was crying incessantly at an unbelievably loud volume. They had just come back from the room where you get your vital signs taken. I looked at the sticker on my hand. Without a thought, I leaned forward to interrupt her relentless sobs.

"Would you like to have this sticker?" I asked the distraught child. Her long curls bobbed up and down as she silently nodded. Even with her tear streaked face she was very cute. "What do you say?" her mother prompted her. A small sweet voice said thank you, as her eyes held mine for just a brief moment.

It was truly astounding how quickly the crying stopped. One might argue that it was the embarrassment of a stranger talking to her that ebbed the flow. Or perhaps the distraction took her mind off the horrifying prior events.

If you ask me though, it was the magic of the Winnie the Pooh sticker. The sticker had lost its stickiness by that point, but not its ability to bridge cultural divides and bring smiles in even impossibly frustrating situations.

Where can I get more of those stickers?

Michael Jackson is our Neighbor?

Oh my gosh! I just read on CNN.com that Michael Jackson lives in Bahrain - MY Bahrain! Here is the link:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/11/17/jackson.court.ap/index.html

I remember when he was acquitted of molestation charges in 2003, and remember hearing that he "fled" the US and moved to the middle east. I probably read then that it was Bahrain, but it didn't mean anything to me and I forgot exactly where he was. But now it obviously hits home.

We go to Bahrain at least once a month, sometimes twice. From our house, depending on the backup at the border, it can as little as 45 min. to get there.

I know that you could easily look Bahrain up on Wikipedia to learn more about it, but you probably won't. So I'll summarize for you...Bahrain is a very small island nation: it's only 253 square miles. It's 80% Muslim, 10% Christian, and 10% other religions. It has a King, a prime minister and declared independence from Britain in 1971. It's connected to Saudi Arabia only by a causeway - crossing the causeway can take anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours (unfortunately we've done both). You must go through immigration, customs and various other booths for both the Saudi & Bahrain sides - much like driving across the border into Canada -- but definitely more chaotic and stressful, and infinitely less efficient.

We enjoy going to Bahrain to shop and escape, so to speak, from Saudi Arabia. Wikipedia describes Bahrain, "...as the "Middle East lite" because it combines modern infrastructure with a Gulf identity and, unlike other countries in the region, its prosperity is not solely a reflection of the size of its oil wealth but is also related to the creation of an indigenous middle class."

In addition to the better shopping and entertainment (current, uncensored movies), we also enjoy ordering adult beverages with our meals. We can imbibe on the island, but would be expelled from Saudi if we were caught bringing any of those beverages across the border. I also am allowed to drive in Bahrain, but I decline the privilege. It's almost as crazy on the roads as it is here and there is no way I want that stress.

I hate cliches, but can't resist one right now...what a small world! I doubt that we will ever run into Mr. Jackson, but it still creeps me out nonetheless.

Welcome Grace Leigh!

I'm an Aunt again! That's right.. my brother, Dean, had another daughter! I'm so very proud and excited that I can't seem to type anything this morning that doesn't have an exclamation point at the end! OK, deep breath...

Her name is Grace Leigh Keck, and she was born yesterday (Nov. 17) . She weighs exactly 8 pounds and is 19.5 inches long. Yep, Dean is going to have another tall, beautiful girl. Here is a picture of a very proud Casey holding her new little sister:


It's killing me to be so far away from my brand new niece, just as it did when Casey was born. (When Jodi was born, we were within 2.5 hours driving time, so I got to meet her right away) I'm sure we will get to see them this summer - in fact, Dean and Kathleen are now most certainly guaranteed to have a houseful of Greens sometime between July 1 and August 29.

Of my two boys, Jake has shown the most interest at the news. "A new cousin..." he said slowly. "Someone younger than me again. YES!" (to get the full effect of the statement, imagine him pumping his fist in the air as he made it).

Obviously we didn't have any daughters, so my wonderful little brother has very graciously supplied me now with three nieces (and we also have three beautiful nieces from Steve's family too, all of whom are grown or nearly grown - where does the time go?). Dean's oldest daughter Jodi (who is going to be 12 yrs. old in January) lives in Virginia Beach. We were able to see her a couple times a year when we were in Maryland - but I haven't seen her now for several years. I tried to see her this past summer when the boys and I were on the East Coast, but we couldn't hook up and it broke my heart. It's been difficult to maintain a relationship long distance, and I've got to figure out a better way.


I could gush on forever, but I do have a million things to do this morning so I'll spare you. Just know, I'll be smiling all day!

Boo!

Did you all have a good Halloween? Here's a short description of ours...The boys begged to be something "scary" this year. After asking them what they had in mind (their definition may be different than mine), I realized that I can't keep them small and control the costumes forever... so I relented to a certain degree. Michael ended up being Indian Jones and Jake decided to capitalize on Mom's compromise and chose to be a vampire with "blood" running out of his mouth.

Being our first year here we weren't sure what to expect. There was going to be a parade at school, followed by parties - just like anywhere else.

Here is Julia and Snow White, aka Amanda, looking a bit grumpy because she couldn't participate in the parade.



Note the Teva sandals peeking out of Jake's costume...what else would a vampire wear on his feet but sandals when it's 90 degrees outside?



The parade was at school on Wednesday morning (our version of Friday). Then we waited for the actual Halloween day, of course. There was an email sent out - you will get a kick out of it! It read:

The 2008 Dhahran Community October Event will be held on Friday October 31st from 5-7pm for those who choose to participate, please keep your front house light illuminated to welcome visitors. Those houses with lights out are understood to not be participating in this activity.

Apparently the practice of not referring to Christian holidays by their name includes Halloween as well! On a side note, we also received information about a "seasonal visitor" who will be coming in December bringing gifts to the first 250 kids who sign up to come see him. Sheesh!

We ended up going outside our immediate neighborhood to an equally busy area on the other side of the school, where some friends were getting together to trick-or-treat and have pizza afterwards. We didn't have school the next day (I'm convinced they planned a professional development day on Nov. 1 on purpose!). It was lots of fun - crazy, wild, crowded fun. Many more cars than I was comfortable with were driving up and down the streets in the dark, which were already packed with sugared-up kids. I have never lived in such a popular trick-or-treat area. I'm assuming that the rest of the compound brought their kids into our area because more people were participating. We gave out only one piece per kid and ran out of candy within an hour. Without being able to describe how much we started with, I know that last statement is meaningless - the best I can do is tell you that our candy was in a five gallon bucket, and everyone mocked me initially for having way too much! Here is a picture of a particularly well decorated front yard (for here) , and an example of the crowds on the streets.



On a completely different note, Steve was able to take a couple pictures of the completely covered Saudi women, while he was taking pictures of costumes. That's a big, big no-no, so this will be my only chance to show you what they look like. Realize that it's very dark out, but you can see just their eyes showing.