Jack's Walk-Through Video Part 1: The Upstairs

Go along with Jack as he tours the upstairs of our home in Qatar.  If you are prone to motion-sickness, then you may want to have a Dramamine first.  Make sure you listen to his commentary for some educational insights, as well.

A Baker's Dozen of ZZzzzzz

Hannah near the end of a 13-hour sleep.  She went to bed at 9 PM and didn't wake up until 10 AM.

Ten days into our adventure, we're just about over the jet lag.  I don't think Hank (12 y.o.) even experienced much jet lag.  He slept a full night the first night we were here, but he also had days that he was very tired despite full nights of sleep.

Both the blessing and the issue then becomes the sun rising here at 4:30 AM.  As I write this at 5:45 AM, it looks like it's about 10 AM Texas time outside.  Qatar doesn't practice daylight savings time, but that also means that the sun is setting by 6:30.  The sunset brings a noticeable cool-down, especially when the humidity is low, so I'll take it the way it is...but seriously...4:30 AM?  For a night owl, that is down right obscene.

They Use Pull-Tabs Here.Reminds Me of High School...

Of course, we had to start a chain.  Isn't that a life requirement?  "I see tab.  I make chain."

Seldom Was Heard a Discouraging Word,And Nary a Chicken Nugget Reared Its Processed Head

Our first dinner at Souq Waqif was at a Persian (Iranian) restaurant called Isfahan.  This is an opulently decorated place with traditional foods.  They are used to and very kind to Western visitors.  We chose to go all-out and have our dinner on the floor.  Here are some photos.

The entryway, with ceiling and walls covered in small mosaics of mirrors. 
Hannah: "Very glamorous!"

The view from where we were sitting.

Our dinner area.  Hannah only tried to dance on the table once...

So guess what?  Iranian restaurants in a Qatari souq DON'T SERVE CHICKEN NUGGETS, HOTDOGS, or GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES.  That means the Small roustabouts are suddenly thrown into an "eat or starve" situation.  And no, Mammy, the kitchen staff would not have understood if I asked them to boil 4 pounds of noodles for Hank. :)  

We asked our waiter for traditional foods.  What you see here is the salad/starters portion of our meal.  That green stuff that looks like salad was actually fresh herbs--mint, basil, and maybe something else.  It came with cucumber sticks, olives, and radishes.  On the right were three vegetables--one was spinach, one was eggplant, and I'm not sure about the third.  They were cooked/mashed into spreads to put on the flatbread (or you could eat them plain).  We also had a traditional salad--small dices cucumber, tomato, and onion with a little salt and lemon juice...one of the freshest bestest things you ever put in your mouth.

After this (and not pictured), we had a mixed grill, which was skewers of chicken, lamb, and beef, as well as a stewed lamb and rice dish.  Everything was heavenly, and the boys actually ate quite a bit.  Hannah's drink (the green one) is fresh lemon juice blended with a little water, sugar, and fresh mint leaves (thus the color).  Hank's drink--closest to the camera--is fresh squeezed watermelon juice.  Heavenly!

The waitstaff, all Filipino women, fawned over Hannah all night...

In fact, people all over the souq fawned over Hannah.  One family took their photo with her.  It's the blond hair and general demeanor...but the pink cowboy boots probably contributed, too.  People were very sweet and respectful, some just gently touching her head (like a blessing) as she passed.  

This was all very sweet and interesting--it didn't disturb her at all.  In fact, she thought all the attention was downright well deserved.  By the end of the evening, her head had swelled to the point of commanding me: "Mama!  Go get me a lollipop!"

My reaction?  Of course...I rolled my eyes at her, told her to go her own freakin' lollipop, and then found a candy store and bought her one.  Sigh. 

It was, after all, an alternative way of keeping her quiet...

The Small Souq Invasion

We went to the main souq here.  A souq is like an old-fashioned mall...and Souq Waqif is this amazing maze of stores, from spices and cookware to fabrics to random stuff to animals.  The middle of the souq includes a number of excellent restaurants.  More on that in a moment.  And here's the wikipedia link for Souq Waqif, too.

Taking photos here is tricky--I cannot take photos, even as part of the background, of Muslim women or children.  I've been told that if I hold the camera up and wait a moment, any concerned parties will move away from the frame, but since the souq is one of the most traditional, and most Bedouin, areas of the city, I don't want to chance it.  That means my photos are limited to specific situations rather than the overall view of the market.

When we arrived, there was a camel pen next to the parking lot.

And when we left, it was nighttime.

The main things we did were eat dinner, walk through maybe 1/3 of the meandering pathways (this is really like an Arabic Diagon Alley for you Harry Potter fans).  The temperature here during the day is in the 110's, so spending time outdoors before sunset isn't much fun (unless a gigantic pool is involved).  Souq Waqif gets very busy at night.

As we approached the souq with the kids, John and I remembered our last trip here, in February.  We had taken a taxi from the hotel to the souq for a few last-minute soveniers, and our time was limited by the deadline for leaving to the airport.  We cut it very close to our deadline--in fact, back at the hotel, the airport bus was waiting for us and we had five minutes to get our stuff--but as we left, with only a small fraction of the things we'd hoped to buy, we kept saying, "That's okay--we'll be back here one way or another."  Now, only 5 months later, it's surreal to have that come true.

Petrol Station Happy Dance

We filled up the mid-sized SUV we’re driving (similar to a Nissan Pathfinder). The full-service 22 gallons it took to fill up the tank cost $8.79.

Of course, a normal 10-ounce package of thin sliced turkey lunchmeat at the grocery cost almost $7.

I checked the Magic 8 Ball, and it told me we will be gas-guzzling vegetarians...

Veggie Stands and Fruit Stalls

So now that the box has the basics covered…we will not starve or die of thirst in the desert…John wanted to show me a step closer to what folks here do for refreshment. Most of you already know that Qatar, as a Muslim country, is dry—alcoholic beverages are only sold in very limited places, and you have to have a license to purchase alcohol for your home. So for special events, at restaurants, or even for regular refreshment, the big thing here is fruit juice. I’m talking fresh-squeezed fruit juice. You see fruit juice “stalls” (very small stores) in strip malls everywhere.

John took us to one about 5 minutes from the house. For about $1.25 each, we got generous cups of juice that wasn’t squeezed until we ordered it. We got orange, banana/pineapple, and lemon. They added some sugar to the lemon (obviously ☺) but not to the others. Typically, they mix mint in with the lemon, too. More on that later.

These are rich and very very yummy.

Akin to juice stands are fruit and vegetable stalls. These are enclosed, air-conditioned mini-stores that sell only fresh fruits and veggies. The stalls are much less expensive than the grocery (Carrefour), and we have one close to the house.

The stall is about the size of a large walk-in closet, or for those of you who have been in my Franklin house, slightly smaller than my kitchen (just the kitchen, not the breakfast area). The tomatoes and bananas below came from that stall, along with some red apples and fantastic sweet carrots. Inside the stall were the owner plus two service-people, leaving room for no more than two customers. The English was limited, but everyone was very friendly. John sent me in with some cash (everything here is in cash) and waited in the car with the kids. I had to ask for amounts in kilos…I should have paid better attention when they offered the one lesson on the metric system in fifth grade 30 years ago.

A kilo is 2.2 pounds. I can’t remember, but I think I bought ½ kilos of everything (jet lag brain fog). Six bananas, 8 apples, 8 tomatoes, and 8 carrots cost, all together, $6.50. John says this is very affordable in comparison to other options.

The picture below is of my first tomatoes and bananas, as well as some walnuts and golden raisins purchased at a spice/nut/candy vendor in the main souq (more on that to come).

So What's in the Fridge?

In order to facilitate the priority list posted last, we had to get some food. When we have traveled to other places in the past, I always tell John that I want to go “where the normal people go.” In other words, I want to hang out at the Bryan, Texas Walmart Supercenter for that area. Perhaps this sounds strange to you, but I bet you know what I mean—escape the tourist stuff and see what the place is really like.

In Doha, doing this is complex. How do you define “normal” when the vast majority of the population is immigrant from varied regions of the world? So to start, “normal” for us here would mean the western and European (i.e., generally more wealthy) expats. Many of these expats work for oil companies and are paid rather handsomely, and food prices reflect both the expense of importation and the market’s willingness to pay.

So our first stop was the French Walmart of Doha, a giant store called “Carrefour.” You can take comfort in how “western” it looks on the outside and inside.  It's located in a Villagio mall...yes, similar to the one in Las Vegas (with the same ceilings painted to look like the sky and storefronts constructed to look like a village).

Both the fun and challenge of Carrefour is that the products are what you would expect in a French superstore. They are generally marked in English, but that type/font is much smaller than the French and Arabic labeling. This makes shopping an adventure, which would actually be fascinating…if one were well rested and not dragging three exhausted children along.

So here’s what the fridge looks like now:

That is a box of Chardonnay on the left (thank you, John!), then milk, then jalapenos, then Laughing Cow brand cream cheese spread (holy schnikies it is good on crackers), and club soda (paging Dr. Collins!).  Carrefour also carries the most lusciously delicious yogurt and little yogurt-sized containers of custard that I have ever eaten.  The labels do contain English, but especially at Carrefour, it is much smaller than the Arabic and French labeling.  At the other stores, the labeling in primarily Arabic but with English, too.

One thing John learned--here, milk comes in three types: regular milk like you would expect, Labneh (a type of buttermilk that people drink...when I looked it up online, "Labneh" was strained yogurt, but this comes in milk cartons...I'll have to study that more), and Long-Life milk (pasteurized and packed in such a way that it can be unrefrigerated before opening).  So you have to pay attention to what you're getting.

The grocery stores also come in a wide variety.  The big places for Westerners are Carrefour, Family Food, Lulu, and Giant.  I hear Family Food is the best for a balance of selection and price, but we haven't gone there yet. We have gone to two small (Franklin sized) "local" groceries, and I really liked them.  At one of those, I got two loaves of locally-baked bread, a package of minced lamb, two packages of crackers, and six small containers of yogurt for a grand total of $10.  At Carrefour, that would have been more like double, I think.

What you cannot see in the above photo, but what is equally important, is the pot of Ramen noodles on one of the lower shelves...

First Jump in the Pool

This is the first morning after arriving.  Because this family has priorities:

1. Swim
2. Eat
3. Sleep
4. Do all that other random crap like unpack

Photos from the Plane (Out of Story Order)

I should have posted these before the story about the lock and key...but I thought you might like to see what the three Small Kids looked like being spoiled in business class...

Hannah and dolls are buckled in.  No, that is not her glass of wine...that is John's!

The boys are ready for take-off.

Jack had to learn about popping his ears.  Hank's big brother advice:, "Don't try so hard, you look like you might die any second."

Saying Adios to Tejas.  See you again soon!

The boys having breakfast in their Qatar Airways pajamas (the legs on Jack's were about a foot too long). Can you say "spoiled"?

Hannah Gracie, in her Dora nightgown, sometime around breakfast.  They brought her full servings of anything off the menu she wanted (and they don't have plain or kid food in business class)...she ended up having Hagen Daas ice cream for breakfast...

Hannah Says the Pledge

We interrupt this retelling of strange and obnoxious events in order to present HGS, saying the Pledge of Allegiance in celebration of July 4, 2010.  She came to me this morning, all dressed in her stars and r/w/b (John is taking us all to work with him.), and did this spontaneously. 

15 Minutes After Arriving: First International Detainment

So we get to the house around 8 PM, and since we had all eaten a light "breakfast" on the plane around 3 PM Doha time, we were all starving.  And when we are all starving, none of us can think straight...so instead of making a coherent plan, we sit around being indecisive about where we want to eat and then getting off track and then someone gets in an argument and then people wander off and take off their shoes or fall asleep sitting up or go hide in the closet.  Thank God we are not stranded on an island, as none of us would survive.

After the typical too-hungry-to-think meandering discussion, we finally decided just to go to a Subway near the house.  Two factors influenced our decision: (1) the kids would recognize the food and (2) getting to Subway did not involve substantive Doha round-abouts (traffic circles).  More on the latter another day.

So the miracle of decision has dawned upon us.  I sit down to write a "we're here and safe" 30-second email to parentals and over loved ones.  As I click send, I hear a large door click shut, a lock turn, a key jingle, and Hannah announce, "I DID IT. I DID THE LOCK."

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Those dots were me pausing for a big heaving, eye-rolling sigh even remembering this whole scene.

So this house has locks on all the interior doors (bedrooms, bathrooms, etc.).  And those locks have real-life keys, all of which are (I think) unique.  Hannah has just incarcerated herself behind a solid wood door which does not have enough space at the bottom for sliding the keys out.  No other entry to the room exists, barring some Shawshank Redemption type tunnel, but we don't have a Marilyn Monroe picture on the wall, so there must not be one. And it's 8 PM at night.  And we've just uprooted our lives.  And we've just gotten off a plane.  But it *was* business class, so I dug deep into the pit of spoiled relaxation heaped upon by those Qatar Airways flight attendants, and I started pondering the jailbreak. I eyed the hinges, which are thankfully on our side of the door, and wondering if a kitchen/butter knife will remove the pins.

Almost immediately, Hannah got the key back in the lock.  This was probably the most important miracle of them all.  She starts turning (by the way...John is downstairs waiting for us to go to Subway) and I hear clicking.  My hopes go up, but despite the clicks, the clank door refuses to open.  Minutes pass, my level of panic rises a little pondering what the alternative Alcatraz strategy is going to look like, and John starts up the stairs.

I explain what's going on, and John starts trying to get Hannah to turn the lock the right way.  He is a little panicked, too.

Then at some point, we hear more jingling of keys.  It's Jack, gone to try the lock on his own door.  After all, if Hannah can do it, why not Jack?  That's when John gets...um...a little miffed, removes the keys from Jack's possession, and escorts him rather brusquely to the couch.  Jack does not appreciate this treatment and may have started contacting the ACLU if the internets had been working.

John goes back to Hannah's turning and clicking, and I go to Hank's door to find out exactly how the locks work.  Turns out (ha ha punny, not) that one turn of the key makes the lock go 1/2 way out, so you need two full key rotations and clicks going in the same direction in order to unlock the door.

Hannah completes this GRE-type interactive quiz and is thus freed from her inaugural Qatar imprisonment.

Meanwhile, Jack is still rather angry about the handling of his indiscretion and subsequent confinement to the couch-houskow.

Thus the Small family is reunited post-pen and we proceed back on plan to the car/Subway.  On the ride to dinner, Jack announces that's very upset and in fact feels rather "violated" at the treatment he received.  I think Hannah is proud of her mad lock and key skills.

Trip Log, Star Date June 29, 2010Or, Alternatively,From Snotty Bar Napkins to Free Pajamas

 Trolleys, travelers, and loved ones.

 First time in an airport for the little one.

*All times are approximate and are listed in HH:MM form.
**When necessary to communicate the rapid nature of events, seconds are added: HH:MM:SS.

5:45 PM: We’re supposed to be at the airport, but we’re not.

6:17 PM: Arrive at the airport. Hug P&B seven times each. Feeling of WTF ARE WE DOING sets in. Not in a bad way but in an Alice in Wonderland (Tim Burton version) way.

6:25 PM: Hug again. Say goodbye for real.

6:27 PM: Jack cannot pull his suitcase. Gets griped at a little. Gets frustrated. First family argument of the trip.

7:00 PM: Get through check in. Breathe major sigh of relief that no one balked over our two bags of toys or 284 corn tortillas.

7:07 PM: Argue over who gets to enter the escalator first. Second family argument of the trip…but ends quickly and peacefully. May not count as an argument after all.

7:10 PM: Arrive at the business class lounge.

7:15 PM: Fluster lady behind bar, as I let each child go pick his/her own (non-alcoholic) drink and I pick my (definitely alcoholic) drink.  Each drink came with a tiny paper bar napkin...this becomes important shortly.

7:17 PM: Raid snacks in lounge.

7:20 PM: Start trying to connect to internet in Business Class Lounge. Failure.

7:27 PM: Keep trying to connect to internet in Business Class Lounge. Failure.

7:40 PM: Hank gives up out of frustration. Nancy puts away Apple products, tries Acer/PC products.

7:48 PM: Nancy asks lady at front desk. No help.

7:55 PM: Nancy asks random stranger using a Mac. No help.

8:10 PM: Nancy opens cheap Acer laptop, avoiding Apple products.

8:15-8:20 PM: Nancy skypes with ½ parentals. No video and audio cutting in and out, but it’s better than nothing.

8:20-8:25 PM: Nancy skypes with other ½ of parentals. Still no video.

8:25:32 PM: Nancy starts crying (as in seriously balling) because she didn’t get to say a decent goodbye to her parents or sister.

8:25:57 PM: Small child starts crying because Mama is crying.

8:27 PM: Voice of goddess over loudspeaker says it’s time to load the plane.

8:29 PM: In line for plane. Sidenote: OMG. Did I mention that flying Business Class is like THE CAT’S MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWW?

8:31 PM: Nancy, still trying to wipe tears off face with tiny paper bar napkin, in line for boarding…my turn is next.

8:32:04 PM: Jack announces, in best PA System Voice: “MAMA. WHY IS YOUR SHIRT ON INSIDE OUT?”

8:32:06 PM: Nancy looks down and ponders direction of shirt.

8:32:08 PM: Jack says, again with the P.A.S.V: “YES! IT’S INSIDE OUT. THE TAG IS ON YOUR BACK AND THE SEAMS ARE SHOWING.”

8:32:10 PM: Nancy takes down ponytail to hide tag.

8:32:13 PM: Jack asks again: “WHY IS YOUR SHIRT INSIDE OUT?”

8:32:14 PM: Nancy gives Jack evil eye, which ceases all conversation.

8:34:02 PM: Small family boards plane.

Without devolving into more moment-by-moment review, let’s just say that the following proceeded to take place:

• arguments on a window view
• champagne for Mama
• discussion and decision over who is sitting next to Hannah
• a second glass of champagne and awkward flight attendant look for Mama
• excitement to the point of physical vibration
• free pajamas for all but Hannah (who had her Dora nightgown, after all).

All of us were treated like royalty, and I reminded the boys several times not to get too used to it, as all remaining trips will be in coach. Hannah had ice cream for breakfast, after she slept for 1 hour in her own chair and then tried to snuggle with me in my chair for an hour at which point my arm (under her head) went completely numb and I vacated my seat for another seat because sometimes feeling in your limbs does trump sleeping with your precious girl.

We arrived safely, made it through customs without arousing too much suspicion, and were in our new house by around 8 PM.  Here's the fabulous sign that greeted us on this end, made by a family of friends/colleagues.

Goodbye to 599 W. Decherd

The house got a reasonable cleaning. With my total body-mind-soul thanks to Auntie Trish, who reminded me that no one ever did buy a house because it lacked cobwebs and no one ever didn’t buy a house because it had a random cobweb, I cleaned the floors, cabinets, and bathrooms but didn’t obsess. The cleaning, which commenced Monday morning, was over by 2 PM, just in time for lunch with friends and then a fantastic swim party with the playgroup families. It was a perfect afternoon, even if I did cry at some random and some appropriate times.

This picture was taken very shortly after moving into the Franklin house.

And here is a picture about 10 minutes before we left it.

Just in Case You’ve Ever Been at the Airport…

…and wondered about those insane families with three carts of luggage? Yes, that was us.

Here's where we were when had all the pre-existing bags packed and yet had to go buy two more huge suitcases.

The new cases are the two black bags at the back.  On the left...the explosion of pink and plastic...that is Hannah's stuff and that is what had to go in the new suitcases.  Yes, in the middle of the picture...that is a tower 288 corn tortillas.  Yes, yes we did.

And here's what it all looked like when packed:

That, of course, is me in the fetal position, relieved to have the packing done.  At this point, we still had one big load to go to the storage shed (artwork you can see in the background), two huge loads for the dump, and all of the general cleaning to do.

Qatar Airways will allow up to two bags, at 70 lbs each, per passenger.  That is SEVEN HUNDRED POUNDS OF LUGGAGE for our family.  Thankfully, we were well within our allotment.

It's Like a Puzzle from the GRE Test...

Our living room at 6 PM yesterday.  You might not realize it, but this is actually pretty organized... On a side note, why is the picture flipped (mirror image)?  I took it with the camera on our MacBook.

A new question for the GRE quantitative reasoning section:

John, Nancy, and their three kids have already packed five suitcases (on the left) chock full to burstin' for a plane ride to the other side of the whirled.  However, they still have about 157.5 cubic feet of other junk (on the right) that they want to take, including 16 tubes of Sure Solid Deoderant, 4 large bags of Reese's minis, 12 bottles of children's medicines (generic ibuprofin, benadryl, etc.), six princess dress-up gowns, two pairs of Barbie shoes, three dolls with all clothes and accessories, two posters, Nancy's 48 pounds of makeup, and a wine rack.  How can John and Nancy fit the stuff on the right into the (already full) luggage on the left?

Goodbyes

The kind lady just came and took the bird away, and I am pretty much finished balling for about the 10th time in the past week, and for someone who doesn't cry easily, this is quite a tear-duct workout. 

Do you think it burns calories???

Here are pictures of pets we'll leave behind:

El Jefe, a.k.a. Birdbrain, Birdman, Peanut Head.

He's been with us over 15 years, and I will never forget the miracle of feeding him when he was just a little, featherless bundle of beak and big eyes and little chickadee fuzz.  It was huge, learning that we...along with some invaluable coaching, Gerber baby food, and Purina monkey chow, and a ketchup-type squirt bottle...could keep something so fragile and innocent alive. He is a sweet bird (well, to me and John he is...but we handfed him monkey chow and baby food, so he thinks we're his parents), but he doesn't talk.  He's a blue-head Pionus, an incredibly easy and low-maintenance type of parrot.

S

Sammy, brought to me on Valentine's Day from the La Grange Animal Shelter.
She has a crooked back leg, apparently broken and not professionally re-set when she was a kitten. She had another owner before us, who also rescued her from that shelter, but that owner died of cancer, and the family had to take the cat back to the same shelter again.  So she was rescued from the same shelter twice.  She is quiet and shy and very lady-like.

 

 Seamus, an elderly male, came from the Vernon animal shelter.  

When I was 6 months pregnant with Hannah, I informed John that since I couldn't have a vat, he was going to have to take me on a spring break trip of my choice.  I chose to load all of us in the car and drive 5.5 hours to Wichita Falls, spend the night, and then drive another 30 minutes north to the Vernon Animal Shelter.  The cat's name was originally "Tyler Lee," but can you really say Tyler Lee without a total hick accent?  I can't.  So the more dignified and Celtic name Seamus was bestowed upon him.  Driving home, just south of Ft. Worth, Seamus started yowling and kept yowling the 2.5 hours it took us to get home from that point.  Jack calls him "The Unsettable Alarm Clock," because he is a "talker" and would (especially at night) yowl and yodle.  He also fancied himself a herding cat, as he would run along side me as I walked, trying to herd me towards the food bowl when he wanted it filled.  When I didn't go the direction he wanted, he would sit and look disgusted at my stupidity and insolence.

Admiral Lord Nelson, a.k.a. Peety, Na-na, and (more recently) Angel Buckets.

The first puppy we have owned (as an adult), he was/is John's dream dog.  He is also rather gassy and droolly and likes to hump things (he's fixed).  But his jowls are the softest thing you ever touched, and his snoring is like magic for putting humans to sleep at night.

This leaves us with one remaining pet.  Pat and Bob (John's parents) have once again gone beyond the call of duty and have said they will baby sit her.

***

You might wonder why I make trips to places like La Grange and Vernon for cats.  It is because (1) I wanted Siamese-looking cats that were adult and de-clawed, (2) to adopt cats given up at shelters, and (3) of the existence of Petfinder.com.  Petfinder is like an online conglomeration of many, many shelter animals all over the US, so you can "shop" for the pet you want but still rescue one from shelter life/death.  Petfinder is a glorious temptation.  I don't go look there unless I can adopt... :)

Random Thoughts on Unraveling a Life

Four nights from tonight we'll be out of this house, after 8 years here and over 15 years in this area.
One week from right now, we'll be airborne.

Of course, it was our choice to (1) take on the adventure and (2) move out of our house (rather than keep our stuff here).  The house was getting too small.  The boys share one small bedroom, and the bickering was pretty bad.  Of course, one of my good friends--also with two boys of similar age--says the separate rooms doesn't solve the bickering. Instead, they just stand in the doorways to their separate rooms and bicker from there.  They've had their own spaces for the past several nights.  Hannah is sleeping with me, Hank is in her room, and Jack is in their original bedroom.  I think there is less bickering, but maybe they're just acting nice because they're afraid I might lose my last ounce of sanity.

So I've/we've been taking our lives apart one box and one pet and one garbage bag at a time.  The effects have been interesting...

I can't describe what it's like for the kids or for John.  The kids are on an extended version of Christmas Crack--every day is some adventure and so they're either jumping around, singing or they're exhausted.  I think I may interview each one of them tomorrow or get them to answer questions for their own blog postings... John will have to speak for himself!

For me, it's been a definite mixture of chaotic feelings.  First, it's the feeling of a serious challenge, trying to live up to my long standing wish to purge ourselves of the 75.6% of Walmart/Target that we own.  I mean, how much plastic should one family have?  Maybe the government should put a carbon limit on each family, in terms of how many plastic toys it can own.  I want to be successful at this purging challenge.  I want to live more simply without so much to care for and keep picked up.  I want to live without that feeling of "wanting" that I think may be part of the American psyche.  I want to come out of this purge feeling less suffocated by possessions.

Second, it makes me sick in the pit of my stomach.  I think about how much we've sold, taken to Goodwill, thrown away, and packed...I think about the animals and the wonderful people who have taken them...I think about our remaining possessions sitting in a hot storage shed for two years...I think about the Talking Head's song "Once in a Lifetime": "This is not my beautiful house.  This is not my beautiful wife."  I think waking up there, after a couple of weeks when the vacation feeling has worn off.  It will be surreal.

The night before the second garage sale:
Much less "small stuff," and what you don't see are the four twin beds, 

one queen bed, washer, dryer, chest freezer, and icebox that all found homes.  

At 6:55 AM, we had 6 cars waiting in line.  By 8 AM, most of it was gone.  

By 9 AM, my fantastic neighbor had found homes for the table/chairs 

and the sewing cabinet.  By 10 AM, the garage door was closed and 

everything that was left fit in three small boxes...

Third, it makes me nervous: about the loved ones we leave in Texas and New Mexico and elsewhere in the States, about the friendships that we'll put on hold (especially the kids) being okay when we get back, about the loose ends that I'm sure I've forgotten, about how the hell I'm going to fit all the remaining stuff we want to take into the suitcases, about whether or not my shampoo will explode in my suitcase.

Finally, of course I am so very excited and anxious (in a good way).  I'm anxious to get this last push over with.  I'm anxious to see John.  I'm anxious for the kids to see John and to see this magical crazy place we've been telling them about.  I'm anxious to feel the intense heat of their summer, to see if it's really as horrible as it sounds.  I'm super anxious to take the kids to Souq Waqif for adventures.  I'm anxious for them to start school (in mid-September!).  I'm anxious to be able to post blogs about something else other than packing boxes and feeling anxious.  I am supremely anxious to meet my new students and to hopefully form bonds with them.

This is leaving about 90% of what's in my brain unsaid.

The good news for today is that I closed up my office on campus (turned in computers, keys, etc.).
The good news for today is that I'm at the point where some old plastic dishes get used and then not washed but thrown away!
The good news for today is that I've completed our HEB stock-up trip (anti-persperant, because what they have there is apparently strange...kid medicines...mini-Reese's...still have to get corn tortillas!).

Tomorrow starts the "empty the room completely" phase.  My hope is it will be a productive day.

 A view of the current almost-empty state:
Our bedroom, except I've cleaned off most of the stuff from the table.

The bed is sitting on the floor.  Thankfully, the lady who wanted my bed, 

as well well as the lady who wanted the remaining set of twin beds,

were happy to wait one more week to come get them.

I can already tell you that I HATE HATE HATE packing table lamps.

Dune Bashing with the Kallianpur's

There's a pastime here in Qatar called Dune Bashing, which is exactly what it sounds like it would be. Driving 4 wheel drive vehicles recklessly across the desert, up and down dunes, and across the flats, all at high speed. And yes, it is as fun as it sounds. Many of the dunes are at least 10 stories tall, and very steep. Hank is gonna absolutely love it - better in some ways than roller-coasters maybe. Thibodeaux invited me along on a family trip to bash, and of course I went along. It was a blast. But hard to get photos of just what it's like, so instead I'm posting shots of Thibs and his really wonderful family. Unfortunately his bride Corrinne is back in Louisiana right now - though I feel like I know her. Her kids are a direct reflection that she is a wonderful lady (Lord knows that can't be Ravi's doing). Below is yours truly with Ravi (Thibodeaux), his son Neill (who's high school graduation I recently attended) and his daughter Naina. It's her fault there were no good action shots (I'm kidding Naina, don't be mad).

This is Prakash (who's name I am almost certainly misspelling), Ravi's rather elusive brother. In going through the pictures of the trip there are like 100 pics and he's in 2. Very wily that one. I'm pleased that I will get to meet his family, who hopefully (Ensha Allah) will come for a visit in July.

Yours truly with Gazi, our guide and driver. He was a riot.

And this is Ravi trying to throw me down a very high and very steep sand dune. Smarty Pants damn near sent us both sliding down the face (grin).

In the distance is the inland sea, as they call it. It's a thin strip of gulf that seperates a long bit of the border between Qatar and Saudi Arabia. There were several times we could look across and see Saudi. This piece of the desert is very pretty. Like some of my favorite places in Texas, the beauty and the harshness are inseperable elements.

That Bedouin Lifestyle

Nancy, the camel second from left is looking at you. Yes you. He wants to talk to you.

The Bedouin traditions are srsly cool. Srsly.

Lawrence of Arabia contemplating the vastness of the Sahara, or, some dude drinking an orange soda.

Note: Pictures courtesy of Ravi aka Thibodeaux Kallianpur, because my camera got all full of sand and broke.