For the past few weeks, Bubba has been on temporary assignment to the Embassy in Tel Aviv, and I have been visiting him on the weekends. What a fantastic city…..a proper city, with walkable streets, numerous restaurants, walk signs on the corners…..I could go on and on. The best part of Tel Aviv, however, is that it is a beach town, and Bubba’s hotel was one block away from the sand and water!

Now, I understand that the European culture is much more free-thinking than American culture, but there are limits. At least Scott and I think so. Here is a list of the best (or worst in our opinion) things we saw while hanging out on Israel’s beaches:

1. Naked babies - We don’t know what it is with naked babies. I can understand having a naked little baby, not wanting to waste a diaper or whatnot. But we saw 4 and 5 year old kids, running naked everywhere! Ok, there are bathing suits for that age, c’mon. There is no seemingly reasonable explanation as to why a 4 or 5 year old isn’t wearing a bathing suit. I remember going to Marshalls for the annual bathing suit buy when I was that age. It’s just gross.

2. Beach tennis - The Israelis play a game of beach “tennis” that they call Matkot. You use a wooden paddle and hit a squash ball back and forth. If you go out on the beach at any given time, the water line will be filled with players standing back to back in games of Matkot. You just can’t escape the “thok thok” sound as seasoned pros slam the ball at their opponents. You even see young boys learning the game and practicing their arm motions with their game-crazed fathers. But the worst part of  is that you can’t walk along the water down the beach without taking your life into your own hands. I didn’t actually see anyone get beaned by the fast-moving balls, but I was pretty sure if it was going to happen to anyone, it was going to happen to me.

3. Fat Guys in Loose Speedos - Again, showing off man parts on a family beach does not seem like our idea of a good time. So many men wore Speedos, which are understandably a European tradition. However, most men, especially those with more body to love, wore loose-fitting speedos, meaning any slight movement of the body also meant the visible movement of other things…….things that I don’t really want to see on wrinkly men with beer guts.

4. The Old Guy in a Thong - There was an older gentlemen entering the water before us. Bubba commented, “Oh, if that guy was younger, he would totally look like your dad.” Then we saw the thong. And for the rest of the time swimming, I could only think of the fact that he looked like Dad and was wearing a thong. EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW.

5. Guys Swimming in Underwear - Ok, don’t you know that if you wear cotton briefs into the water, they will become see-through and form-fitting? Even you, man with the old-man’s saggy butt? Double EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW.

6. Fat Ladies in Bikinis - I’m sorry, but if you are chunky, don’t wear a bikini. It’s nasty. I’m aware that I dont look good showing off my stomach, so you should be aware of that too. Please, they make bathing suits that flatter any body type. Why don’t you pick up one of those?

7. The Ice Cream Gaucho - There were many men dressed in ponchos and large sombreros carrying ice cream boxes on their shoulders and ringing bells. I understand the need for ice cream, I just don’t understand the need for ice cream from a guy with a giant sombrero. In Israel.

8. Dumb Homeless Men - Hey you, yeah you. Homeless man. You live in Israel! Begging to a Jewish guy and then asking him if he is German is really bad business practice. What’s even worse is telling him you like Germans because of their military prowess. C’mon, are you sure you really want the money? Because you just lost a customer.

Israel is a really fantastic country and Tel Aviv is a great city. But, I think the European influence may have rubbed off just a tad too much! Let’s hear it for more clothed women and bathing trunks for men in 2009!

So its Ramadan. And Bubba is gone. What’s a girl to do? I don’t want to cook for only myself, as making 4 peoples worth of food for only one person seems silly; I can’t order, as most of the restaurants don’t start cooking or deliver until after sundown (after 7pm) and I want to eat early; and they don’t have Lean Cuisines in the supermarkets that will provide me with one serving size-worth of lowfat goodness.

Therefore, when people want to invite me for dinner (i.e. free food I don’t have to cook), I jump on it immediately! This led me to my very first Ramadan Iftar with my friends, the guards at the back gate. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Ramadan is the Muslim holy month, where Muslims fast from everything (food, water, cigarettes) during daylight hours. The first meal of the day, held after sunset is called “iftar”, from the word “futoor” which means breakfast. 

This iftar was fairly mundane, happening in the control room at the back gate. The guard contractor provides meals for all the guys, however, many of them bring them special dishes from home. So, provided we had chicken halves bbqed on a bed of french fries and bedouin bread. Abu Jad brought in kufta in tomatoes + rice, which was awesome. And Amiina prepared a fatoush (bread salad) that featured pomegranate seeds. It was fantastic!

It was really very fun to watch the guys chow down after not having eaten. They are very used to eating without utensils, often using bread and their fingers to create spoons or forks. It was impressive to see them tearing into the chicken. Ever try to eat a leg of chicken using bread to pry off the meat? Its a talent.

The other night, I was able to attend my first traditional wedding since being here in Jordan.  I didn’t actually get to see the ceremony (most guests don’t), but I was able to go to the party, which I went to with another American couple and many of the local guards from the Embassy, whom I have come friends with since I started my new job.

The wedding was of one of the guards, Muna, to her second husband, Saleh. The party itself took place near a refugee camp between Amman and Zarqa, in a very small wedding hall built above several closed storefronts. There was a tunnel that cars could pass through leading into a small parking lot/courtyard. I was originally told that this area would not be safe, but we decided to brave it anyway, and with the full assurances of our guard company, we never felt unsafe the whole time we were there.

The wedding started with the very loud procession of the cars carrying the bride/groom and family. The bride and groom were driving a fancy convertible, adorned with flowers on the back and front. They must have set off the alarm system because the burglar alarm was honking madly and the lights were flashing. Once they drove into the tunnel, the noise from the car honking and the drum band and bugler were intense. The cars drove into the courtyard and parked around the back of a small decorated gazebo. The drummers and bugler kept playing, singing songs that one of our party, Fathi, told me meant good tidings that the marriage would be long and fruitful. At one point, I swear they broke in to Hark the Herald Angels Sing, but it might have just been my imagination.

The couple stepped into the gazebo, where they stood for a good 15 minutes while people took pictures and sang, danced and ululated. They also shot fireworks off behind one of the parked cars and lit sparklers, which was spectacular but also made me feel a bit like I might spontaneously combust next to all of the ignitable substances. The bride looked beautiful, totally unlike what she looks like at work, but absolutely amazing nonetheless. She was not smiling, however, and my companion Fathi told me it might be related to the fact that she had been married before, yet her new husband seemed to be penalizing her for her not being a virgin. I found this unfortunate, but it is quite common in this area.

After they stood in the gazebo, they processed slowly to the hall, where there were several small tables. The crew from the Embassy commandeered a table right next to the roped-off catwalk that had been created on the floor with rosepetals serving as the red carpet. The ropes were made of yellow scarves and each anchor had yet another sparkler on it. The bride and groom walked down the walkway with the sparklers blazing to the dance floor. Muna sat in a chair while her new husband circled her head with an urn of incense. Then they switched seats and did the same thing. Then they walked up to the stage, where two chairs were laid out like thrones.

The music began and they started their first dance. Fathi said it was modern music (i.e. not good in his eyes) and was probably due to Muna’s love of hip-hop music! In any case, they danced, and then a guy with a large circular piece of fabric came dancing around them. It was very similar in appearance to a whirling dervish, twisting in and out and around of the couple. Then, a guy dressed in a black horse costume rode in and circled the couple. My arabic teacher said that the symbolism of the black horse relates back to medieval times, when knights would ride in and the man would have to defend the woman. Very interesting.

The rest of the wedding was very normal. Dancing, cake, soda, etc. There is no actual food at a wedding, just cake. The men did a dance simlar to the “hora” that we do at weddings, called the debkah. Some of the guards, who are usually very reserved when I see them at work, had footwork that was to die for! They were jumping SO high, it was unbelievable.

I am glad that I got to experience this, as it is a rare one for me, since Bubba doesn’t work directly with Jordanians, so it very hard for us to get these opportunities. They don’t take pictures very often in this culture, so I didn’t bring my camera. But I will remember this experience always.

Bubba has developed a love for scuba diving that has taken him to Aqaba, the city on the Red Sea, for some reef cruising. He has had the fun without me, but this past weekend, I decided that it was time to get some sun on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

Aqaba is not really the resort town that it believes itself to be. There isn’t much of a coastline, and even the private beaches of the two fanciest hotels are mere slivers of beach. Apparently, the beach at the Royal Dive Club is nice, and is where one of the spouses spent the day, sipping margaritas. The skyline is nice too……with hotels and houses dotting the coastline, with giant rock mountains in the background. The Gulf of Aqaba is so small, you can even see the Israeli town of Eilat across the water.

In fact, one of the guys on the ship (there were other people besides our small party) was a diving instructor from Eilat who made the unfortunate decision to go diving in his tighty-whiteys. Yeah, it was gross. And see-through. BLECH.

So, we got on the boat with our friends Tom, Kate and Frank. Kate and Frank were certifying, Tom was just along for the ride, and Scott was simply doing fun dives to get his log book full. I sat on the boat, listening to music, swimming in the ocean and trying not to get too overheated in the baking 120 degree weather. Tom was a little bored, as was I, so I probably won’t choose this option again should I choose to go with Bubba to Aqaba. I will probably choose the beach-margarita path.

After a full day of diving, we went back to our budget but very nice hotel, and got ready for dinner. The restaurant we chose was the Floka Seafood Restaurant, right on the main drag. It was decent……at least probably the freshest seafood you can get in Jordan. They even had a fish display where you could choose your fish. But the best part of the evening was when a guy riding a camel came walking down the SIDEWALK right by our dinner table, asking if anyone wanted a ride. It was a nice looking camel, but he could have used the street for pete’s sake!

The next morning, the worn out and bored spouses rode home while the divers went on a few more dives. They got to look inside a ship that was purposefully sunk off the coast to create more reef. They seemed to have a good time, and I definitely had a tired Bubba on my hands when he got home.

The worst part is that I seem to have contracted some sort of upper respiratory infection. Probably from the dehydration and heat…….or maybe from the Israeli in the tighty-whiteys. Who knows.

“Rabbana yab ‘ath al-lawz li ‘lli ma lahu asnan”
Loosely translated: The Lord sends almonds to those without teeth

Last weekend, dinner club went out for dinner instead of cooking. Accompanied by the lead staffer of Obama’s campaign, we went to Al Milh Wa Zad restaurant, an Iraqi restaurant in the Um Uthaina neighborhood. The restaurant’s name literally means “the salt and the food,” which, according to my arabic teacher, is a phrase that is said when one wants to express the goodness and bounty of one’s food. And the food sure was bountiful!

We went to this restaurant specifically for a dish called Masgouf, a bbqed/roasted fish, that is flattened and cooked vertically from the fire. It is a true delicacy of Iraq, as many Iraqis are used to eating Masgouf direct from the Tigris River, while sitting near the banks enjoying the evening with family and friends. We were told that these Masgouf did not come from the Tigris, which is good since currently the Tigris is a victim of the spoils of war.

The restaurant is set back at the end of a strip mall. The front porch features a small wooden bridge over two pools of fish swimming around, waiting to be caught for dinner. One, in an apparent attempt at freedom, had flung himself up on the pavement and was slowly hyperventilating to his death right as we walked in. It was quite a sight to see our dinner trying to swim his way to the parking lot. Fortunately, we were able to send some of our men to pick out the fish we would eat, and they happened to pick the fish with a bit less of a freedom-complex.

The dinner started with hoobz (bread, similar to pita), hummous, baba ghanouj, and some interesting yogurt and spice salads. There were 12 of us, so we ordered 6 masgouf, one for every 2 people. Wow, was this a mistake. Masgouf is usually made out of carp, also fish of the infamous gefilte variety, which is a very large fish to  begin with. Each fish was 2 kilos each, a kilo a piece! Usual preparation for the fish is to split it down the middle, remove any crazy organs,  and then serve it completely opened on a large platter. The server removes the spine at the table, and voila, masgouf. We had a hard time finishing 12 kilos of fish!

Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. The masgouf was good; it tasted like fried chicken. But I was a little dissapointed that it was just fish. There was no tasty sauce or rice or veggies to make it taste any different.

All in all, our first “Dinner Club Eats Out” was a success. Hopefully there will be more tasty stories to come.

Well, for the first time ever, I actually enjoyed playing in an Amman Symphony concert. Really, I’m not joking!

Last Wednesday, I played in “Opera Under The Stars,” a concert by the Amman Symphony Orchestra and the Choir of Holy Spirit University in Lebanon. It took place at the Roman Ampitheater in downtown, an amazing setting for this event. The choir brought 3 soloists, who each sang an aria and then completed the concert with the trio from La Traviata. We got more “bravo’s” and applause then we have ever gotten for a concert. Considering we only rehearsed for 3 days prior to the concert, it was quite a feat!

But no concert is without its interesting moments. Here is my list of highlights:

• Stupid Kids –the concert started late because an entire busload of kids had to make their way up the steep Roman Ampitheater stairs, rather noisily. The teachers weren’t even trying to keep them orderly, just letting them run rampant. What is it with Arab culture and disciplining your children? Come on, a quick swat now and then will not hurt anything. But it might teach them to be respectful.
• The Wind – As is always the case when performing in an outdoor venue, there are elements that are beyond your control. Such as an easterly breeze. It wouldn’t have been such a problem because they provided us with large rubber bands (that looked like giant scrunchies) and pairs of clothespins. Great idea, except for the procedures to turn the page. First, remove the clothespins. Then take the music out from the scrunchie, then turn the page, put it back in the scrunchie and then reattach the clothespins. Imagine trying to do that in the span of one 4-beat measure of music. Once, there was such a large gust of wind that even the scrunchies couldn’t hold the pages……and there was a snowstorm of music and frantic musicians as they tried to collect it all. And this was in the middle of a piece!
• The random clapping — Apparently not everyone read the feature about me in the Dardashah. C’mon don’t clap in the middle of the piece. At least wait until we are finished.
• Flashdance – Can I just say that the Lebanese youth love the 80’s? If you could see the big hair that made its appearance in the choir, as Mario put it “It’s like Flashdance!” We were just looking for the legwarmers…….

For all the good things that happened, there was one bad thing. After the concert, 4 of the choristers and their bus driver were shot in an apparent criminal act. It did bring a damper to the evening and we are all hoping that the chorus members are ok. What a way to end such an otherwise fantastic evening.

“‘anza wa law Tarat.”
Loosely translated: Still a goat, even if she flies!

They tried, they really tried. But no matter how hard they worked, the Embassy just could not pull off a 4th like I am used to. Even those years when I had to work and just joined my mom on Riverside Drive for the fireworks, it was more “magical” than it was this year, stuck at the Embassy, trying desperately to enjoy the dunk tank and chewy beef hotdogs in kaiser rolls.

But again, they really tried. The kids seemed to have a blast, running from the water balloon toss to the pool to the dunk tank to the shawerma line. But for the adults, there wasn’t much to do but grab a beer at the Marine House and watch the kids running around. Oh, and gossiping. Standing around is always condusive to gossiping.

I exaggerate a bit though. It really was not such a bad time. Even considering that Bubba got called into work by a guy who just happened to stop by the office on his way to taking his kid to the big inflatable slide and saw that the server needed fixing. Nice guy, ended up getting Bubba 5 hours of overtime and the tail end of a fantastic dinner party.

After the community party at the Embassy, we made our way to Dan and Duffy’s for some good food and good company. We were hoping with their wraparound balcony that we would at least catch 1 or 2 fireworks displays (from the weddings of course), but alas.

One of my favorite memories as a kid was getting into my footie-pajamas around 8:30 and looking out the window for the fireworks. Mom would say, its not time until you hear the windows boom (this was due to the cannons from the symphony’s version of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture that they were playing across the river). Once the booms started, we would pack all in our red flyer wagon and ride down to the corner, where we would watch the fireworks over the James River, oohing and ahing the whole time. It was great, to be out in the buggy humidity of a Richmond summer, watching the fireworks over the river with the whole neighborhood.

While the whole day was fun for me (not for Bubba who had to work), it certainly was no river fireworks and footie pajamas.

About two weeks ago, Bubba and I succumbed to yet another dog, a gorgeous masked husky, who we named Maya. She had been found abandoned on the side of the road and had spent a month cooped up in a small kennel awaiting a new home. She was thin and wretched, but she had a heart of gold. She would smile at you with her big bear of a head and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her.

We spent one night with her before taking her back to the Humane Center for a routine spay. After the spay, unsupervised in the Humane Center, she ripped open her stitches and did damage to her internal organs. Everything was supposedly fixed. After a week in the ICU, we were finally able to take her home on Thursday. This evening, after a fun afternoon chasing the ball, she died in the yard, probably due to her internal injuries.

Maybe it was fate’s way of saying that three dogs is too many, or maybe it is God’s will that we be the home she remembers before dying. We only knew you a short time, our dear girl, but you affected us more than you would know. We hope you are feeling better now, and know that we love you.

They say memories are golden
well maybe that is true.
I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you.

A million times I needed you,
a million times I cried.
If love alone could have saved you
you never would have died.

In life I loved you dearly,
In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place
no one could ever fill.

If tears could build a stairway
and heartache make a lane,
I’d walk the path to heaven
and bring you back again.

Our family chain is broken,
and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one,
the chain will link again.

So, I think I mentioned before that in December of last year, we adopted a mangy husky from the local humane center. I haven’t really introduced her as a member of our family yet. The truth is, we weren’t really sure she was going to be permanent, but it looks like we are stuck with her. Her name is Sasha.

The first time we met her, she looked awful. She looked like this:

She had no fur on her face, on her legs and on her rear section, and the bald sections were scaly and bloody.  We had to rush her across the border to Israel to get emergency vet treatment when one of her sores started bleeding and wouldn’t stop. After many medications later, she looked like this:

You can see the bald spot on her butt and where she didn’t have any fur on her tail. She was quite mangy.

After a time, after a bath one night, we brushed her and all of her old fur came off. After months of treatment and good quality food, she had grown a short layer of “baby fur,” very downy and soft. She looked bald, like this:

Shortly after she lost all of her hair, it gradually started to grow back. It won’t fully grow back until the winter, when she really needs it. But for the time being, she looks like this:

We really want to thank Dr. David Cohen and the staff of the Vets 4 Pets veterinary clinic in Herzylia Pituach, Israel.  We never could have done it without their selflessness, perserverance, kindness and knowledge.

Now, we are proud to introduce Traveling Dog #2 to our family. She is like the crazy little sister that no one wants! Or she is really akin to the kid in your elementary school that ate glue. Today, we had a doggie play date, and while all the other dogs were chasing their balls, Sasha was in the corner…..eating dirt.

“Law bidha tishti laghayyamat.”
Loosely translated: If it was going to rain it would have clouded over

Today, I joined my friend Sarah for some girl time in Jebel Amman. Jebel Amman is one of the more historic neighborhoods, with old buildings, churches, narrow streets, and lots of personality. We walked around Souk JARA (an outdoor Friday market), grabbed coffee in an English-language bookstore, and ate chinese food while watching movies. While at the bookstore, I picked up two fantastic books of Arab proverbs, which feature some of the funniest and most mind-boggling sayings, the English equivalents of which leave a lot to the imagination. Keep it tuned here for more proverbs like the ones above.

Anyway, Sarah, who has lived here for many years (4 maybe more) and I got to talking about what it’s like to be in Jordan. The question that I get asked the most by my friends and family is, “How are you doing over there?” And the answer is always “great” or “fantastic.” Everyone wants to believe that we are just loving it over here and having a great time every moment of every day, as if we are on a big, glorified vacation.

Fortunately, I am married to the world’s most positive man. He is a fantastic husband, caring, sensitive, sweet, but he means the most to me because he is eternally positive. He always sees the good side of everything, making it easy for him to reply,  “Everything is great!”

But sometimes things aren’t great. Sometimes things are just ok. Sometimes, we step out on our porch and feel lucky that we are in such an interesting place, with so many neat opportunities for us to explore. But sometimes, we step out on our porch and its hot, and we are tired, and another day in this place makes us long for home.

This trip hasn’t always been roses……Within the first 3 months we had been here, I had the respiratory flu twice and the stomach flu twice. I’ve had food poisoning 7 times, I’ve been dehydrated twice, I have had a bacteria, fungus on my head, and the flu 5 times in one month. And I’m not the only one. My friend upstairs, Stephanie, has been sicker since she got here than she has every been. We could blame the food, the water, our lifestyles…….but the fact remains that most spouses report that their families were so sick the first 6 months of their first tour. A new country takes getting used to. Its not a vacation, one where you spend two weeks and then can recover in the comfort of your own home. This is our home.

The thing is, we love it here. Jordan is an amazing experience, putting us smack in the middle of a very holy and ancient region, with lots of stories and things to learn. It’s a very positive place for both Bubba and I in terms of us growing up, taking more responsibility, and developing our relationship.

But not every day is as fantastic as you think…..

Sometimes it’s just ok.