tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82560466656030740502024-03-19T15:02:04.749+03:00Todd Cummings FamilyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-173501283386042032011-01-20T18:59:00.002+03:002011-01-20T19:00:01.584+03:00A Taxi Ride in CairoI have written several times about riding a taxi in Cairo, but can not share enough about what a unique experience it is. Last night I had the opportunity to travel from my office here in Heliopolis through downtown Cairo over to Maadi. I went to spend the evening with the House family where we would have supper and a Family Home Evening. While that was the highlight, truly it was newsworthy to report on the trip itself.<br />There are several different type of taxis available to take in Cairo. There are newer taxis colored yellow that run off of a meter. These taxis tend to be owned by a company and a a little higher priced. Then there are white taxis with a sign on top indicating they are ready for business. These taxis are usually independently owned, but they are also metered, but not as high of a price as the yellows. Finally, there is the bottom end taxi that most of the folks use on a regular basis. These are a checkered black and white taxi and are usually about 20 years old. The cars have been built and rebuilt over the years, yet are still on the street running. Typically they are driven by old men hunched over the steering wheel with a cigarette hanging on their lower lip and the interior of the car shrouded in smoke and reverberating with the Quran being read from the radio. Yet, despite their differences, they share a common heritage of how they drive. Despite the age, color or car type, the taxi drivers in Cairo share a common personality trait: fearless.<br />My drive last night started under typical conditions. Dusk was approaching and so the light was decreasing. Traffic began to pick up because I left the office at the close of normal business operations. In discussing with the driver the best route, we decided to take the more picturesque route of Salah Salem. This street works it’s way from Heliopolis to Maadi fairly directly, and passes by some of the more notable sites found in Cairo.<br />It was a beautiful drive in terms of sites. I enjoyed the sites of the Tomb of the Unknown Solider directly across from the grandstands where Anwar Sadat was assassinated by members of the Islamic Brotherhood some thirty years ago. The Baron Palace was also a beautiful site, despite being closed down several years ago because of young teenagers participating in pagan rituals. Further down the road was the beautiful profile of the Citadel with the Mosque of Mohammed Ali lit up with the purples and whites of reflective lighting. An overlook of the City of the Dead is also one of the highlights of the drive. The avenue itself is also lined with large trees standing as modern pharonic sentinels over the bustling traffic, and provide a sense of peace and decorum amidst the automotive chaos on the streets below them.<br />All of these things are taken into account as I’m belted in securely and holding onto the crash handle above the door. My driver is smoking his cigarette from his left hand, while fiddling with the radio from his right hand. Meanwhile his eyes are darting back and forth between mirrors, cigarette, radio and me like a hawk soaring above its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce. The taxi itself must be the prey, because it the right lane or track is always open. He uses his feet to dance a jig between the brake and gas, at times accelerating or braking based on what he sees in front of him. He squeezes between cars like a warm knife through butter, finding holes that weren’t there a moment before. He usesthe resources at hand to indicate his passage: horns, lights, yells, hand gestures, it’s all there. To further complicate or perhaps enhance the pleasure of the ride, I find that we are driving without the lights on. Typically this is considered to save the battery (or perhaps gas). So we only turn them on when finding a utilitious reason – such as signaling to clear the way.<br />To try and express the utter fear and anxiety associated with driving dark at high rates of speed in heavy traffic is utterly impossible. Perhaps it should be categorized as an extreme sport since the adrenaline rises precipitously whenever one takes a taxi in Cairo. However, at the end of the day, despite all the misgivings, I found myself leaving the House family apartment wondering what my next taxi ride would have in store.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-88017194426811688812011-01-19T12:15:00.001+03:002011-01-19T12:16:23.264+03:00A Morning Walk in CairoThere’s something about mornings after a rain. The same holds true in any city that I’ve been in through my life. Certainly, it holds true in Cairo. I had the chance to walk to the office today, and a walk through Cairo on normal days is anything but routine, but on a day after a rain, it’s something special.<br />Normal Cairo air is dusty, dirty and has a heavy, grainy feel to it. One can almost feel the pollutants, the population, the dirt in the air. The smells are not as pronounced, but instead feel stifled, waiting to break free, but bound by the weight of the heat and dirt. However, on a day after rain, the sights, sounds and even the smells are all found in abundance, as if they have been waiting for this moment to shine forth in exaggerated fashion. Such was the case this morning.<br />The sun was a bright and shiny thing, without the oppressiveness of working through several layers, but was able to stand forth in its glory. Being January, the heat itself was not the monstrosity that it bursts forth in a few months, but is a relaxing warmth, that one feels in the soul more than the skin. Being in the light has obvious effects on people, and the normal smile and ‘Salamu aleykum’ had a special lift to it today, a little more emphasis as people truly felt the peace they were conveying to me as I walked past them. Much of the time, I didn’t even have to initiate the greeting, it was as if people were waiting for me, knowing that I was coming, and had that smile and light in their eyes waiting just for me as I walked past them. It put a little spring in my step, and made my day that much better.<br />The colors were warmer and brighter than I remember them being. The dust, dirt and clutter was a little more sparse. I wandered through the streets greeting the flower shop attendant and chatting just a bit about the beautiful smell of his flowers. He offered me one and had Catherine been around I would have taken it, but as I was by myself, the flower would not achieve full enjoyment. I thanked him and forced myself out of the deep smells of the purples, the reds, the blues, as those are how I recognize good flowers. I stopped by the fruit stand (one of several on my stroll) and chatted with the old Hajj about the beautiful day. As we exchanged pleasantries about where I was from and how I loved Cairo, he kept expressing the traditional, “You are welcome mister. You are welcome,” in English. One of his young workers, a dirty and disheveled young man also wandered over and tried practicing his limited English. However, it’s always comforting to realize that as bad as my Arabic is, someone’s English is a little worse. After a beautiful interchange, I excused myself to continue my path to work, and the Hajj rushed to offer me an orange, or an apple. Graciously, I thanked him and tried to give him some money which I had to do two or three times before he finally took it (a mere pound for a beautiful orange).<br />The other scenes greeting my eyes were those typical of a morning walk in most cities I’ve walked in before. Construction going on in almost every other building, with the construction workers filling sand into wheelbarrows or into bags and packing them on their shoulders. Then walking into the buildings to carry it up flights of stairs. Taxi drivers with their rags wiping down their cab so that it’s nice and clean for the next customer. Business men walking in their suits with their computer bag over their shoulder, oblivious to the car ready to run them over. Drivers in the road jockeying for position and greeting other drivers with a toot or a honk – and each car has a different horn customized for that driver – and emphasized with a fist or a wave. Car radios blaring out the sounds of a muezzin giving a Quranic recitation or the latest from Amr Mostafa or Sherif Hamdy or perhaps Heba Mokhtar. <br />Finally, I arrive at the office and greet the standard police officer who stands outside and helps park cars. Such a nice man, and so I give him my orange and the water bottle I took from the hotel room. Just seeing his smile and gratitude only makes the day that much brighter. <br />Ah, I love a walk in Egypt in the morning after a rain.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-51357467403742646362010-10-06T03:27:00.002+03:002010-10-06T03:31:18.417+03:00FOUND: Some pics from Germany<div>Todd had these pictures from his trip with Critter to Germany.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first two are of a castle in Marburg.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xu_wC8JlTlawGZ6Y8CKJfa6WO-OndYki-1hrnoBvUzhy1ffNZd9J0iJGiogTXr710GgLnN2rPJXMhzp3tN3ZmY3UUEUE5nnlJcQ7nZc1CPpR5jul4Ly8ZOgimj23Az8x88tDyIWIMaI/s1600/07012010(010).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xu_wC8JlTlawGZ6Y8CKJfa6WO-OndYki-1hrnoBvUzhy1ffNZd9J0iJGiogTXr710GgLnN2rPJXMhzp3tN3ZmY3UUEUE5nnlJcQ7nZc1CPpR5jul4Ly8ZOgimj23Az8x88tDyIWIMaI/s320/07012010(010).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524723792880658066" /></a><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xu_wC8JlTlawGZ6Y8CKJfa6WO-OndYki-1hrnoBvUzhy1ffNZd9J0iJGiogTXr710GgLnN2rPJXMhzp3tN3ZmY3UUEUE5nnlJcQ7nZc1CPpR5jul4Ly8ZOgimj23Az8x88tDyIWIMaI/s1600/07012010(010).jpg"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinbJ_Q0bMtcQwl4M1AbduEX1pIM2NEfoDAXiOExlN4HXUH4vGCDQjuzPR-y6fGFyHipoynfwonNj8sVB1fc45Gyzv_hzONdSI94eUgCgsaozQzdR8zFLUMBUzYDFC9wIcYXuww6_6ojQ/s1600/Crtt_Dad_Marburg+Castle.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinbJ_Q0bMtcQwl4M1AbduEX1pIM2NEfoDAXiOExlN4HXUH4vGCDQjuzPR-y6fGFyHipoynfwonNj8sVB1fc45Gyzv_hzONdSI94eUgCgsaozQzdR8zFLUMBUzYDFC9wIcYXuww6_6ojQ/s320/Crtt_Dad_Marburg+Castle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524723786590205122" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinbJ_Q0bMtcQwl4M1AbduEX1pIM2NEfoDAXiOExlN4HXUH4vGCDQjuzPR-y6fGFyHipoynfwonNj8sVB1fc45Gyzv_hzONdSI94eUgCgsaozQzdR8zFLUMBUzYDFC9wIcYXuww6_6ojQ/s1600/Crtt_Dad_Marburg+Castle.jpg"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-fZm9jxbSguoV5XgxglnELAOJTBMHDyPrBEFm_Wcyz8omeXpUrv7YQQDYoDJtx3p1RVrjhIMgLrap8eZe12slKBlkxo-XbbFg6G30sLQk3hy5mOS40Ss8F8cHtj6wub-6J7VTUF7JXA/s1600/06012010(012).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-fZm9jxbSguoV5XgxglnELAOJTBMHDyPrBEFm_Wcyz8omeXpUrv7YQQDYoDJtx3p1RVrjhIMgLrap8eZe12slKBlkxo-XbbFg6G30sLQk3hy5mOS40Ss8F8cHtj6wub-6J7VTUF7JXA/s320/06012010(012).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524723781956984978" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-56033748214305680122010-09-30T17:30:00.000+03:002010-09-30T17:30:01.134+03:00Coptic Christian Wedding<div>Todd and I were invited to attend a few weddings of his co-workers. They were all a lot of fun. We attended some weddings of Muslims who weren't as conservative. Those were usually held in big ball rooms in hotels. There was usually lots of amazing food, loud music, lots of dancing, and professional photography with video recorders on huge cranes to span the entire crowd. The weddings usually didn't start till 10 or 11 at night and they'd go all night. At least that's what we heard. We were usually home in bed long before the parties ended. </div><div><br /></div><div>We were able to attend a wedding of a more conservative couple too. It happened to be outdoor at a beautiful country club type place. The only thing different with that wedding was that it didn't have the dancing. It also started in the late afternoon which caused us to miss out on the great food. </div><div><br /></div><div>That story is we were promised by the bride that it would start promptly at like 3:00. (I can't remember the time it was supposed to start.) The culture in Egypt is that time really has no meaning. You start a party when it's ready to start. Times printed on an invitation really mean nothing. But this bride, who worked with Todd, was adamant that this wouldn't be "typical." It would start right on time. </div><div><br /></div><div>We found the location quicker than we expected so we had about 45 minutes or more to wander the grounds before the wedding. As the wedding time approached, we made our way to a table and wondered why there were so many chairs and tables but so few people. We began to worry for the bride because this wedding was scheduled on the same day as a World Cup game that Egypt was playing in. The wedding date was scheduled long before the World Cup game. We thought maybe everyone decided to skip the wedding to watch the game even though the wedding technically should be over before the game started.</div><div><br /></div><div>We sat down, made small talk with some of the bride's family who was there and a few guests that started trickling in . Sure enough, it was like 2 hours after the scheduled time before the wedding finally started. We'd left Petey at a friends house. We saw the couple make their grand entrance and we gave them our best wishes. Then just as they were starting to serve the food, Petey called and said her friends needed to leave so we needed to come pick her up. Todd is still bitter that he never got to try out the great food at that wedding. We heard later from the bride that most people left right after the food so they could get to a TV to watch the game.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another kind of wedding we attended was a Coptic Christian wedding. The following pictures are from that wedding.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the Coptic church where the wedding was held. Inside it had two levels--a main level and a balcony. Both levels were full. It was interesting that through the whole ceremony, people were getting up and walking to the front to get a better angle for pictures, people were talking, they were standing up and sitting down. Generally most people were quiet and were paying attention to what was happening but it didn't seem to be rude to talk or walk around during the ceremony. This picture was taken just after the wedding. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Rvy087JIZzn7i_HKJuwTfGlTEWvnpXnIlvWy6MzcWA5WpzbDSj4R8Wd_4WlycJn8ATo9lDX6yU4chDJvzBwiplWhDlKQOg_vVeL1Jqj8mCzYbify_34adtKDylcQBNgwNAGiKF-bT1g/s1600/09012010(016).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Rvy087JIZzn7i_HKJuwTfGlTEWvnpXnIlvWy6MzcWA5WpzbDSj4R8Wd_4WlycJn8ATo9lDX6yU4chDJvzBwiplWhDlKQOg_vVeL1Jqj8mCzYbify_34adtKDylcQBNgwNAGiKF-bT1g/s320/09012010(016).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521372340890429650" /></a><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Rvy087JIZzn7i_HKJuwTfGlTEWvnpXnIlvWy6MzcWA5WpzbDSj4R8Wd_4WlycJn8ATo9lDX6yU4chDJvzBwiplWhDlKQOg_vVeL1Jqj8mCzYbify_34adtKDylcQBNgwNAGiKF-bT1g/s1600/09012010(016).jpg"></a>A picture of the couple posing for the crowd.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqTMQTMMz-cPdX7qwg2QzRQDQa3K3Y6m0zjRNrPV0UqhP5gl-P-_nUY-7bgpkcNj7vIMSRzKfMYG2eDtHnrwOe_KQo_qV4YIL8aDWEr_PsmcWamfxclGbyh1bhd6AYfbRyiMUP2ub1sY/s1600/09012010(015).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqTMQTMMz-cPdX7qwg2QzRQDQa3K3Y6m0zjRNrPV0UqhP5gl-P-_nUY-7bgpkcNj7vIMSRzKfMYG2eDtHnrwOe_KQo_qV4YIL8aDWEr_PsmcWamfxclGbyh1bhd6AYfbRyiMUP2ub1sY/s320/09012010(015).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521372339186557650" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqTMQTMMz-cPdX7qwg2QzRQDQa3K3Y6m0zjRNrPV0UqhP5gl-P-_nUY-7bgpkcNj7vIMSRzKfMYG2eDtHnrwOe_KQo_qV4YIL8aDWEr_PsmcWamfxclGbyh1bhd6AYfbRyiMUP2ub1sY/s1600/09012010(015).jpg"></a>There were different parts of the wedding ceremony. Several people spoke but in a language I didn't understand so I'm not sure what was being said. But this guy with the microphone was a constant through the entire ceremony. He was constantly "singing" in the foreign language with no accompaniment. It was a cross between a recitation of something and singing a song that seemed to have no end. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1kB_i9M9zuaR7bm3m4lco_QijAxMAt4LNnSUFqKXowKHzBF7TxbXb9DCohnRbDMG6lSec2urvrErtxH-5aviD12IfsNEYMmlGwhMHn2qBpQSY1wAc_XfiywxJKp6jOG2liwDrF5ez24/s1600/09012010(009).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1kB_i9M9zuaR7bm3m4lco_QijAxMAt4LNnSUFqKXowKHzBF7TxbXb9DCohnRbDMG6lSec2urvrErtxH-5aviD12IfsNEYMmlGwhMHn2qBpQSY1wAc_XfiywxJKp6jOG2liwDrF5ez24/s320/09012010(009).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521372332434566194" /></a><br /></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-91406435969240547842010-09-26T17:30:00.000+03:002010-09-27T02:58:34.093+03:00Germany<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQta7fFAOex82HobftAbvgSbXzqCDGN7nwcU48ab0SmQmnKnMpqswJic6rLt1UWS7fO5ZiR-B_XbofCcOFi2jO98yiDb5xh_mXxyAd0inlhVfo6w_-n_HChtzBBJA0zCP9X9iXmVxrPpA/s1600/08012010(001).jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQta7fFAOex82HobftAbvgSbXzqCDGN7nwcU48ab0SmQmnKnMpqswJic6rLt1UWS7fO5ZiR-B_XbofCcOFi2jO98yiDb5xh_mXxyAd0inlhVfo6w_-n_HChtzBBJA0zCP9X9iXmVxrPpA/s320/08012010(001).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521370110966112866" /></a><br />Todd had to go to Germany on business in January. He still owed Critter a birthday date from the previous November. Petey got to go to Cairo from Jordan on her 13th birthday date (at that time we didn't know we'd be moving to Cairo). So now we've set a very bad precedent. <div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure why I don't have a photo of Todd and Critter together in Germany. This is a picture of Critter with two kids of Dr. Hussein who owns Skopos, the company Todd works for. Todd and Critter had a great time, took a tour of a castle, enjoyed good food and time together. </div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-55777552940117852362010-06-09T18:39:00.003+03:002010-06-09T18:39:00.596+03:00Skopos Holiday DinnerWe invited Todd's coworkers for a dinner between Christmas and New Years. They've been so kind and generous to us and several have had us in their home so we decided to return the hospitality. Todd wanted a traditional holiday-type meal so we went with a turkey dinner. We've been told that it's rude if you refuse food when you go into people's homes but evidently the respect is not mutual because they hardly ate any of it and we had tons of leftovers. Apparently American food just isn't as appetizing.<br /><br />I cooked 3 turkeys which was no small feat considering we have an oven that barely fit even one. This oven is similar to the one I had in Kuwait. This is one reason I'm anxious to get back to America where large ovens are the norm instead of the exception.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ8U50b6yq8beOk4PK31o69yPhztr4ehgyYrWyS566qOW6XjP61FOyxJHv3gRLWlteaqVmSrYEwO0cwKgEA3kdDkOSK9MxZgGcsJ4Ue5kDb1uPY_z6gNq_VgCB07TZMNRIJdvIK-T8Iuw/s1600/100_5923.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ8U50b6yq8beOk4PK31o69yPhztr4ehgyYrWyS566qOW6XjP61FOyxJHv3gRLWlteaqVmSrYEwO0cwKgEA3kdDkOSK9MxZgGcsJ4Ue5kDb1uPY_z6gNq_VgCB07TZMNRIJdvIK-T8Iuw/s320/100_5923.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479328172570070786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's our table of food.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIcxiRWnttdNgG23w8_oNfd1-2QcDym_xrXCJ0jKiRZyot8jvZT9WY0VofH0-I4hibAkx_9G7v26gTW4Yp1xNhcTcedDY1qHco7nGKr-19WDTywglh55fX2WaDc31RojF3d6oBVvwpTU/s1600/100_5931.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIcxiRWnttdNgG23w8_oNfd1-2QcDym_xrXCJ0jKiRZyot8jvZT9WY0VofH0-I4hibAkx_9G7v26gTW4Yp1xNhcTcedDY1qHco7nGKr-19WDTywglh55fX2WaDc31RojF3d6oBVvwpTU/s320/100_5931.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479331948477245826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We rented tables and chairs so people could sit down and enjoy the meal.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSWRWSAYBhfCVBmqz0K0D2TCxPsjRNeubWJVbGuXv3DCtQLRcAedGj2TjDKTTopOX2jJUOGsEKMCFnzwdBwA3WY21pe6h4uIwYsZYNovIXlqDg70g0KHb1n0Ob51AmFjUYAOJ5q5kMVsM/s1600/100_5928.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSWRWSAYBhfCVBmqz0K0D2TCxPsjRNeubWJVbGuXv3DCtQLRcAedGj2TjDKTTopOX2jJUOGsEKMCFnzwdBwA3WY21pe6h4uIwYsZYNovIXlqDg70g0KHb1n0Ob51AmFjUYAOJ5q5kMVsM/s320/100_5928.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479328186211026594" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But strangely most opted to eat like this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKdztGwPmdXtq0EBwrKZlpr2Ewi4rh6dkVNrwRrsLpmpma6yjuEdXgOpbcs6JxDBps0QcJbd5rT8N9DyNLxMMzdSoyXEt8KRA4UDgs4BgtDoRmoaG_08dmYBfJ1rFpd-YGzTgjZwVhCM/s1600/100_5927.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKdztGwPmdXtq0EBwrKZlpr2Ewi4rh6dkVNrwRrsLpmpma6yjuEdXgOpbcs6JxDBps0QcJbd5rT8N9DyNLxMMzdSoyXEt8KRA4UDgs4BgtDoRmoaG_08dmYBfJ1rFpd-YGzTgjZwVhCM/s320/100_5927.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479328183602775746" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And the kids just wanted to play. T found a new best friend and they pretended to eat having a tea party.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmzwdc5H2SKj1fgV3dV7Y82Mq8wEz_oWaTzW_SfWmY7in2xVHQJkoK7lAyqOOUyFRADyKBai0lf_BJ59iQVbHW_m8EdPPNo-A5HAK7hZMd7mjJdul3FGRZD9BkOQdnjQG6exdsYuNTaY/s1600/100_5933.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmzwdc5H2SKj1fgV3dV7Y82Mq8wEz_oWaTzW_SfWmY7in2xVHQJkoK7lAyqOOUyFRADyKBai0lf_BJ59iQVbHW_m8EdPPNo-A5HAK7hZMd7mjJdul3FGRZD9BkOQdnjQG6exdsYuNTaY/s320/100_5933.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479331955719273122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Most of them that night hardly ate anything but they were all very polite. One family is Coptic Christian and they happened to be fasting from meat and dairy the night of the party so I think they had a plateful of corn. Mmmm. There were a few who couldn't come that night so Todd invited them to come a few days later to eat the leftovers. They ate a bit more but to this day I still have turkey in my freezer.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-62859271297663313842010-06-08T09:22:00.000+03:002010-06-08T09:22:00.701+03:00FagnoonCairo has a fun place for kids called the Fagnoon Art Center. One day while the "regular school kids" were on their Christmas break we spent the day at this center. Several kids from our compound went. My kids never really gelled with the kids in our compound for various reasons. But it was fun to go be social with them for the day and it was nice of them to invite us to come along. They never really understood homeschool and I'm pretty sure they thought we were weird. Here are a few pics of the fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6uDXmIqLJCpIhFix6cX5gcTmSXYWp22cnnJULdCrD0_1me-YHQp9GHhPiWiMeq0xXlo2EgUYAKSFflHV-9Qhq1RcBDKjNc7tJCttrUwIKQOwqCe3Qc_Jqy0rhlx3kG22CyEbtDf6Odc/s1600/100_5765.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6uDXmIqLJCpIhFix6cX5gcTmSXYWp22cnnJULdCrD0_1me-YHQp9GHhPiWiMeq0xXlo2EgUYAKSFflHV-9Qhq1RcBDKjNc7tJCttrUwIKQOwqCe3Qc_Jqy0rhlx3kG22CyEbtDf6Odc/s320/100_5765.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475091032305421922" border="0" /></a> Cricket with a wood project<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSczlgfyANghmkRbzO0Sj5S0lgPZYOvhd3KzDuiGqyvg9ZR4JdZ59JiYk3LfPGdhbryGO1fevzThoO0YAYLukyymjI64Pz0kII6Vgs2HQvRl6ulJ2d-lRwDvG9VeKHo9c2qAj7UlH0Vk/s1600/100_5760.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSczlgfyANghmkRbzO0Sj5S0lgPZYOvhd3KzDuiGqyvg9ZR4JdZ59JiYk3LfPGdhbryGO1fevzThoO0YAYLukyymjI64Pz0kII6Vgs2HQvRl6ulJ2d-lRwDvG9VeKHo9c2qAj7UlH0Vk/s320/100_5760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475091025296855538" border="0" /></a> T on a pony ride<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w8ySjAAuoXFl8KRdNBb53HqBaSFP-FmVrMmXWutfQyLofQ1KsndCq1Ag7vlzzv1faq2_7-SKjWjx-YqVGBbJ9LxwKo9DTT1FUGIYCLrcU8rOv_9y-AgYQ2_RYOMEhksrLFaFsSnEub8/s1600/100_5757.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w8ySjAAuoXFl8KRdNBb53HqBaSFP-FmVrMmXWutfQyLofQ1KsndCq1Ag7vlzzv1faq2_7-SKjWjx-YqVGBbJ9LxwKo9DTT1FUGIYCLrcU8rOv_9y-AgYQ2_RYOMEhksrLFaFsSnEub8/s320/100_5757.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475091020221688418" border="0" /></a> It's not a fun place for kids unless there are pony rides. Here's Nic taking one.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U3TbtbnOUrcnvIQsaYeaD4Jf8cUf7W6GRsvgYNDRkcz2X7OCz1nmDR_SvSnktc1LMDImXEtOldikD5-W2QyG4sdGVb4raKkog356bGU_7M4vipLdCCepM0HwAzlYUWj1A5LmkvyuBJU/s1600/100_5754.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U3TbtbnOUrcnvIQsaYeaD4Jf8cUf7W6GRsvgYNDRkcz2X7OCz1nmDR_SvSnktc1LMDImXEtOldikD5-W2QyG4sdGVb4raKkog356bGU_7M4vipLdCCepM0HwAzlYUWj1A5LmkvyuBJU/s320/100_5754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475091014014835506" border="0" /></a> Batman and Critter showing off their metal art.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccokJ53M_20Nxul0ymojGs4vsuaPM7eN145yIM0NMWg5JaQYVc-dBVUuePs7YuB28YiqJQHek-wDmebg_GknQVuCJOXbvuUVQxL8I31dz0JH0NtsHcg3qU9YpqGj3ZoYQ8dyOJ2rBsGw/s1600/100_5753.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccokJ53M_20Nxul0ymojGs4vsuaPM7eN145yIM0NMWg5JaQYVc-dBVUuePs7YuB28YiqJQHek-wDmebg_GknQVuCJOXbvuUVQxL8I31dz0JH0NtsHcg3qU9YpqGj3ZoYQ8dyOJ2rBsGw/s320/100_5753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475091008656880770" border="0" /></a> Nic & Red paintingCatherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-13508678295532423292010-06-07T09:42:00.000+03:002010-06-07T09:42:00.908+03:00New Years EveFor those of you on fb reading these I'm not sure you've seen the disclaimer I have at the top of my blog. Basically I'm getting these onto my blog for history purposes so they'll seem outdated but I didn't get them on when they actually happened because of internet problems. So sorry if I'm a little behind the times.<br /><br />We celebrated at New Years Eve 2010 with the House family at our house. Here's our midnight pic. The Houses have been great friends while we've been here in Cairo. Not really sure where Nic gets her rapper-girl poses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlW6LQHHTq2CJRorx_jjSbkseaq6ejBvgJnQzTvFRczIKPqykYCR9MI2L2WJoeEC0P2lUSa94RYbGFAlpj7vnnUWyd-eRFTDEncYpW0TokdMnzrIC5myVCAcTijnxxGTIMBUynNjogOk/s1600/100_5945.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlW6LQHHTq2CJRorx_jjSbkseaq6ejBvgJnQzTvFRczIKPqykYCR9MI2L2WJoeEC0P2lUSa94RYbGFAlpj7vnnUWyd-eRFTDEncYpW0TokdMnzrIC5myVCAcTijnxxGTIMBUynNjogOk/s320/100_5945.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475096553824240674" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-43840556288428243392010-06-04T09:35:00.000+03:002010-06-04T09:35:00.806+03:00"How many pounds do you have?" (and other health and fitness stories)After a month or so of watching the kids play tennis, I decided it would be fun to get back into tennis so I signed up for lessons. I played tennis in high school. I was just a member of the team. But basically anyone who showed up for practice made the team so I certainly wasn't a standout. And then I played some intramural mixed doubles in college which was a lot of fun. I have hardly played since then--close to 20 years.<br /><br />The tennis coaches are Egyptian. They all speak English but in varying degrees. My lessons were twice a week with Coach Khalid. The best phrase from him was "In the deep! In the deep!" He learned the word "deep" from me. He asked me once what the word was for hitting the ball to the back of the court so I told him it was "deep." But instead of telling me to "hit it deep" he would tell me to "hit it <span style="font-style: italic;">in</span> the deep." Close enough.<br /><br />But that's not my favorite Arabic/English conversation with him. A couple of weeks ago before the lesson he said to me "How many pounds do you have?"<br /><br />Now, that could mean a lot of things. In a matter of a couple of seconds, several things went through my mind. The currency here is Egyptian Pounds so I wondered if he was asking me for money, or maybe he was asking how much money Todd makes, or how much money I had in my bag. I really wasn't sure because he's never asked for money before but it's very common here for people to ask for tips so then I thought maybe I was supposed to have been giving him tips this whole time. I didn't know.<br /><br />So I gave him a confused look and he said it again. "How many pounds do you have." But this time he was pointing up and down at me while he said it. Then the next set of thoughts raced through my mind in mere seconds. "Is he asking me how much I weigh? Is he REALLY asking me how much I WEIGH? Do people do that? That can't be what he's saying. There must be a mistake."<br /><br />So I decided to confirm what he was asking and I said "In kilos or pounds?" (They use the metric system here.) He said "In kilos. About 60 or 65?" So now I knew for sure he was indeed asking how much I weighed. Yikes! I don't tell anyone how much I weigh. Todd doesn't even know.<br /><br />So in my uncomfortableness and sheer shock at what I was being asked, I just laughed and thanked him for being so kind as to say 60 or 65 because that was definitely under what I really weighed and then I told him what I really weighed. Yes, I told him. I couldn't believe it came out but I couldn't think fast enough to come up with another answer other than just tell him the flat out truth.<br /><br />So if any of you want to know how much I weigh you'll have to come to Egypt and track down my tennis coach because I'll never tell unless you catch me off-guard in some twisted English/Arabic dialect.<br /><br />Another story--I was having my lessons twice a week both times with Khalid. However, schedules had to change and so for the last few weeks, one of my lessons each week I have a different coach--Omar.<br /><br />Petey tells me Omar is everyone's favorite tennis coach. He's funny, he doesn't get mad at them, etc. So she told me I was very lucky to have Omar as my coach. I saw it a bit differently. It's not that I didn't like him. It's just that I had a hard time taking it seriously with him. Sometimes we'd play a game and he would seriously get into it like he was in some world-class tournament. If he hit a shot I couldn't return he'd do the whole fist pump in the air and yell "YES!" and things of that nature. In my mind, I'm thinking "Dude! You're a twenty-something tennis coach. I'm a 40+ year old mother of 7 who hasn't played in 20 years and even then I wasn't very good. It's not that hard to put a shot past me." <br /><br />But in a way I think it was good for me because then my competitive side would come out and I would play harder so that he wouldn't have the satisfaction of beating a woman nearly twice his age. <br /><br />Last story--After a couple of months of tennis I started developing a pain in the heel of my foot. This was in addition to pain in my knees. I started taking Glucosamine Chondroitin and that took care of the knee problems. With the help of my collegiate track and field athlete friend in the branch, we diagnosed the pain in my foot as plantar fasciitis. It kept getting worse almost to the point that when I got out of bed every morning I could hardly walk. I researched treatments online and people who had it swore that by wearing this boot at night while you slept, your pain will go away. It keeps your foot flexed while you sleep. So I ordered one. Here's what it looks like.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvw-mvRObuPuylTr5PNOQ4GmYwaqLOfGR-7hatDhMmWDBeraaFmtvOlw-Cf0d1_VOZujvT-rNa__BMEwxLDvQjN0Ot7UGuAAjueQPEwPaUAj2x5c5xeHCrfghEuNiPw8ufK7-5Nruh44/s1600/100_6874.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvw-mvRObuPuylTr5PNOQ4GmYwaqLOfGR-7hatDhMmWDBeraaFmtvOlw-Cf0d1_VOZujvT-rNa__BMEwxLDvQjN0Ot7UGuAAjueQPEwPaUAj2x5c5xeHCrfghEuNiPw8ufK7-5Nruh44/s320/100_6874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478424610148667394" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Now I have to say I've rarely made it through the entire night with it on. About 3 or 4 in the morning I take it off so I can get some comfortable sleep. But even just wearing it for the first few hours of sleep my pain is almost completely gone after wearing it for about a month. Yeah! Now bring it on, Omar.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-8225062402527174142010-06-03T09:02:00.008+03:002010-06-03T09:57:16.475+03:00We're ok with averageWe joined a health club to help the kids get a little exercise while they're homeschooling. It's my understanding that in America there are homeschool co-op type groups that get together on occasion for group activities like pe-type stuff. The homeschool group here is so few in number and so spread out that we didn't get together on a regular basis.<br /><br />The club offered several activities and the kids got to choose what they wanted to do. Petey played tennis almost the entire school year. Critter started with tennis and ended playing baseball with a league in Maadi. Batman did tennis and baseball. Cricket did tennis, gymnastics, then softball. Red did tennis, gymnastics, and baseball. Nic did gymnastics.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvGsE3cXmV71epwC6UCmQU5awS9SOyqi3ZmrzIhHgvK9AeWiWI1ySRZbccg4PdJhPhXe7_wdfhi98gGClcU1WYhtuoFCAcfmImYkxI3XgGumLHRgBETCgW2E8Jj_T-iweFB-BZ3jpBGdc/s1600/100_6872.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvGsE3cXmV71epwC6UCmQU5awS9SOyqi3ZmrzIhHgvK9AeWiWI1ySRZbccg4PdJhPhXe7_wdfhi98gGClcU1WYhtuoFCAcfmImYkxI3XgGumLHRgBETCgW2E8Jj_T-iweFB-BZ3jpBGdc/s320/100_6872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478427165256997074" border="0" /></a> Nic<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cQ161McnY9Wh_4jb1FFHcREl_nsHxGa4b6qqoovTLzsJ2-RidPqFZ31mY7cYbC9UOtBWpa_Y4j20haRhH5AFRXVsxOLVzbyAHTwRBN07ctYH7fOmx5TRtSgibrXz9hpWleoucmTIC1Y/s1600/100_6741.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cQ161McnY9Wh_4jb1FFHcREl_nsHxGa4b6qqoovTLzsJ2-RidPqFZ31mY7cYbC9UOtBWpa_Y4j20haRhH5AFRXVsxOLVzbyAHTwRBN07ctYH7fOmx5TRtSgibrXz9hpWleoucmTIC1Y/s320/100_6741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478426111368800146" border="0" /></a> Batman playing catcher<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu12HoFMU8RF5FxEpUdT1cpsdr27JUp4boOxZgxiKs4h2Xl05G099D9Wd0kyWq-B6R92_OhQVAT32yW8S-rr5hTmpWI0ZRTRS3MGKTTbH9SWmHC8_EVZxZRcFLxIEdnDjX803LiiQ_WDk/s1600/100_6768.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu12HoFMU8RF5FxEpUdT1cpsdr27JUp4boOxZgxiKs4h2Xl05G099D9Wd0kyWq-B6R92_OhQVAT32yW8S-rr5hTmpWI0ZRTRS3MGKTTbH9SWmHC8_EVZxZRcFLxIEdnDjX803LiiQ_WDk/s320/100_6768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478426107233668754" border="0" /></a> Critter up to bat<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpmHW9xHg5cPr_-Dmv01IKP_6mFBVo8SZyAil2g7S7NSLu9VQ1WfYw2CNugUdH203y0hNSVVqhSEQZ4SVmB8mR2766e26yyheR3Xxfds9Q5a97nwt1_75IZwhA1O72iL6smIvM6pCzso/s1600/100_6636.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpmHW9xHg5cPr_-Dmv01IKP_6mFBVo8SZyAil2g7S7NSLu9VQ1WfYw2CNugUdH203y0hNSVVqhSEQZ4SVmB8mR2766e26yyheR3Xxfds9Q5a97nwt1_75IZwhA1O72iL6smIvM6pCzso/s320/100_6636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478426098634773378" border="0" /></a> Red ready to bat<br /><br />Can I just say how much we loved the baseball league here? I love my kids and of course I think they're fabulous in all things. But in reality, so far they haven't shown any inclinations of being athletic prodigies. My older kids played in baseball, basketball, and soccer leagues in UT. Some of the kids had more fun than others and different years were more fun than others. What I've realized is that for my kids they have more fun when it isn't as competitive. They love to win and always want to know the score even when they're in a league that doesn't keep score. But even though I always thought I signed up for the "non-competitive" leagues in UT, there was always the overwhelming drive by either coaches or parents to win and do whatever it takes to win. My kids just didn't have as much fun in that environment.<br /><br />Because of those experiences with the baseball league in UT, the kids were very wary about signing up for baseball here in Cairo. Batman only did it because his best friend from the branch was going to sign up. Critter only did it because Batman was going to and he wanted to stop tennis for a while but I told him he had to choose something. Cricket signed up because her friend from the branch was also going to play. Red hadn't had a bad experience yet because he was too young to play in UT so he was happy to sign up especially since his older brothers were going to play. We still couldn't convince Petey to sign up because of her experience in UT. However, the league here was so great that she regrets not signing up because it looked like lots of fun.<br /><br />There are far fewer athletic prodigies here in Cairo. There were a handful of great players but my kids fit right in with the majority of the team and the coaches and parents did such a great job at making fun the first priority and winning the second. They encouraged the kids and I really felt like they were teaching them how to play and the rules of the game before they were all worked up that somebody was striking out every time they batted. Parents of opposing teams were friends and cheered for each others kids. The kids were taught good sportsmanship and it was just plain fun. This will be one of the many regrets I have about not staying in Cairo for longer is that I'm afraid it will be difficult to find another league like this.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-27571652159545563842010-05-31T09:09:00.000+03:002010-05-31T09:17:02.434+03:00Branch Christmas PartyOur branch had a Christmas Party/Talent Show. It was lots fun with some amazing talent in such a small branch.<br /><br />Petey and Cricket played duet in the show.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDQGAi6cVfKPpLp-7MQWZO8aqDd6jRiimx9Bw5hrdO24lzy52mTWZw8-_sC82j2tfPEZ2-bG2V9QcsG7ro6CJXWV70RMolAckkbq4ZG7vAHNzhPT41X4tf4Tc__8nyUGeWvh6NRvvsBM/s1600/100_5747.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDQGAi6cVfKPpLp-7MQWZO8aqDd6jRiimx9Bw5hrdO24lzy52mTWZw8-_sC82j2tfPEZ2-bG2V9QcsG7ro6CJXWV70RMolAckkbq4ZG7vAHNzhPT41X4tf4Tc__8nyUGeWvh6NRvvsBM/s320/100_5747.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088990082840082" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's a picture of Critter with a special guest of the evening.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOURhC28LdvObWSdUrkdH3rCnenOavhlkHEvoUJDsq-eOxtB_4roGO9UVd5APPpXVKwUn8EEMRYend-DYYeRFpYKGRXPzSf8zhzK80zsTUXs-JRbTRP-5SH_v2sB_26ssAV-SwujvQUs/s1600/100_5726.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOURhC28LdvObWSdUrkdH3rCnenOavhlkHEvoUJDsq-eOxtB_4roGO9UVd5APPpXVKwUn8EEMRYend-DYYeRFpYKGRXPzSf8zhzK80zsTUXs-JRbTRP-5SH_v2sB_26ssAV-SwujvQUs/s320/100_5726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088983724674706" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We've discussed with the kids before that sometimes the real Santa can't make it to all the Christmas parties so he sometimes will send a helper in his place. However, not even my youngest kids were fooled into thinking this was even a helper. They all recognized him as Kevin, a Young Single Adult in the Branch.<br /><br />When he first came into the room, of course there was much squealing from the littlest kids. They started to crowd around him and he probably didn't have much experience being Santa's helper because he started handing them a candy cane, wishing them a Merry Christmas, and sending them on their way. Parents were scrambling for their cameras but most of the children had already been sent on their way before the caps were off the lenses. So Amiee House, the Primary President, stepped in and organized the chaos. She lined all the kids back up--even those who'd already received their treat--and reminded Kevin of the whole "sitting on Santa's lap, telling him what you want for Christmas, and letting the parents take photos" protocol.<br /><br />The evening was a lot of fun with skits, juggling, musical talents, lip syncing, and general Christmas spirit of friends together celebrating perhaps the most celebrated holiday in a foreign land where the holiday isn't celebrated at all.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-53933911311624021722010-05-28T14:06:00.000+03:002010-05-28T14:06:00.204+03:00Piano lessonsRanda was the kids' piano teacher this year in Cairo. The kids really progressed. This picture was taken at one of the recitals held in December. I took a picture of the kids with their teacher in April but for some reason it's not on the camera so this will have to do. Randa is Jordanian but is married to an American. She is also a professional artist. Very talented. We will miss Randa. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2dY3efXq7Fu7CY282fzv7FSYkih_s48uriEuOODmOhaORe3ToJ4qSYqPjkwpNjhaWTGhyphenhyphenrj1gdKYAjA7rLomMFtMatEeVT5iquWRqY2ayZUkdZBhefSS-wQ0kmTxUrWtVwvu4BJJR1w/s1600/100_5714.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2dY3efXq7Fu7CY282fzv7FSYkih_s48uriEuOODmOhaORe3ToJ4qSYqPjkwpNjhaWTGhyphenhyphenrj1gdKYAjA7rLomMFtMatEeVT5iquWRqY2ayZUkdZBhefSS-wQ0kmTxUrWtVwvu4BJJR1w/s320/100_5714.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474792485123871730" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-1628072379792453772010-05-27T13:59:00.000+03:002010-05-27T13:59:00.265+03:00Visit from RichardIn December Todd's business partner came for a visit. It was a business trip so there wasn't a lot of time for site-seeing. It was great having him here though.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYrO8G53JKz3hhXbFMGG7JiAVZJs-nha-BFdW4UgbMfgt2HnXfIIJurf4w2v1fi6falMoYmr6mXy4_jZKigCqhd6ijvHnAnRS82N34_wrCYlxJR8drDZVQdhdcHrikxtZ2V6FWH5gwNU/s1600/100_5679.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYrO8G53JKz3hhXbFMGG7JiAVZJs-nha-BFdW4UgbMfgt2HnXfIIJurf4w2v1fi6falMoYmr6mXy4_jZKigCqhd6ijvHnAnRS82N34_wrCYlxJR8drDZVQdhdcHrikxtZ2V6FWH5gwNU/s320/100_5679.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474790561929795346" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGpmFon3aLp34XdfsylDi-VuNbcfjq7E-5j6JQrbqhYcq8oPQfFQaNE2s6ZwbgBY4pORnXeApN0w_1CRokcCdTHTf381pe1EsiWNofAlEqE63xfyhi1XrlzDzgWuAe8qrnbRGKhBEOF8/s1600/100_5677.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGpmFon3aLp34XdfsylDi-VuNbcfjq7E-5j6JQrbqhYcq8oPQfFQaNE2s6ZwbgBY4pORnXeApN0w_1CRokcCdTHTf381pe1EsiWNofAlEqE63xfyhi1XrlzDzgWuAe8qrnbRGKhBEOF8/s320/100_5677.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474790560072834274" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-75847029843958621792010-05-26T13:50:00.000+03:002010-05-26T13:50:00.376+03:00T's birthday dateWe may be procrastinators but eventually we make good on promises. We have a tradition of taking the kids on a birthday date and sometimes the date comes well after their birthdays. But it does come. T got to enjoy a giant cookie on his birthday date. The cookie was as big as his head. He wasn't quite sure what to think.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJtFp6LRc6yaKDnrJxaAP6sF14B9APYz4GGNP_l1Lb_p6r-vMoGSX_MeOxw4vE-QJbxvZvnWYqpkTj31WkRBk3bxpCkfuAvT_PpnOLVNeZJ2rTXaqNqcRrKAcRHf18hYblt97ZaRDzN0/s1600/100_5669.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJtFp6LRc6yaKDnrJxaAP6sF14B9APYz4GGNP_l1Lb_p6r-vMoGSX_MeOxw4vE-QJbxvZvnWYqpkTj31WkRBk3bxpCkfuAvT_PpnOLVNeZJ2rTXaqNqcRrKAcRHf18hYblt97ZaRDzN0/s320/100_5669.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474787732497821826" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi70ZqxdLjtZBFQr0bme1pdOl9hGCYQwBLC1J7lZtCJBP2fkTvpBReGJnRTNbrghA5jGRbzdfcSw0HZq1Op0DLI0p7TDqot1868vJ3Qrjb22ob1n_gu8wHp8oYrzzsFBY1E4Wq-nXUJaSI/s1600/100_5670.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi70ZqxdLjtZBFQr0bme1pdOl9hGCYQwBLC1J7lZtCJBP2fkTvpBReGJnRTNbrghA5jGRbzdfcSw0HZq1Op0DLI0p7TDqot1868vJ3Qrjb22ob1n_gu8wHp8oYrzzsFBY1E4Wq-nXUJaSI/s320/100_5670.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474787734877117938" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-10397403960573193692010-05-24T13:45:00.000+03:002010-05-24T13:58:31.403+03:00Thanksgiving, Boy Scouts, and the SinaiOne of the most memorable Thanksgivings I think we'll have is the trip we took with the Boy Scouts into the Sinai desert over the Thanksgiving weekend 2009. It was incredible and incredibly cold. When they invited families of scouts to come along we thought it'd be a great opportunity to get in some camping while in Egypt. And what better place than Mt. Sinai and St. Catherine's?<br /><br />When we arrived to our first campsite in the early afternoon, I wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into. The sun was still up but we were in the shadow of the mountain. It wasn't even dark and already I was cold. I began to worry about how we'd manage the complaining from the kids because I knew we hadn't packed enough warm clothes. I was sure the nights would be unbearable. Amazingly though, I was the biggest complainer the whole weekend.<br /><br />We went on some amazing hikes. We were exhausted and dirty by the time we arrived back in Cairo but it was so worth it.<br /><br />Here we are in front of the rock Moses touched and water came out. This was the first day as we were hiking into camp so we're all still happy and clean. Standing next to Clara on the far right is Nacia. Nacia has been a huge part of our stay here in Cairo. Read her blog <a href="http://naysh.blogspot.com/">here</a>. She's in our branch and is so helpful and smart. She came for an internship. She has not had the typical tourist American experience. She's delved into true Egyptian life. When she heard about this trip, she asked if she could tag along. She was invaluable to us. She entertained our kids, showed the scouts some tricks, and was incredibly patient with our family. Throughout this year in Egypt she's been our tour guide, babysitter, and dear friend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77310vOz3W5F-6XI4SUIqwEGNz0LC1dYpG4YHS2wENUJAxsgWFvwuEBQT9Z5feyyeiNQGvsnOJ9DS-TkakcpUub_dQvAizWws-QMltvGBlzCYepv6QeFWS8vPMMN5hyphenhyphencclOv_jEfVAqc/s1600/Sinai+Scouts+09+038.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77310vOz3W5F-6XI4SUIqwEGNz0LC1dYpG4YHS2wENUJAxsgWFvwuEBQT9Z5feyyeiNQGvsnOJ9DS-TkakcpUub_dQvAizWws-QMltvGBlzCYepv6QeFWS8vPMMN5hyphenhyphencclOv_jEfVAqc/s320/Sinai+Scouts+09+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472241761112114466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We camped at the base of St. Catherine's the first couple of nights. Some of the group's gear, like water, was brought in by camels. The scouts were required to carry their own gear but they allowed the families to use the camels to carry some of there stuff. I was amazed at how much weight those camels could carry.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryZhkQxz9iFk2Tvh2y1d83dmPMxo5gypvPc0A-KPhKMTWqSRtnJVKjIXFwMUGa6ltl7IRPLvwn8FBhzMvCJhvlyq2E8WhalKvvVx2NSjWACSd7gRfxXmbpWKGBCmUBkFX_lwfwV-MmLU/s1600/100_5619.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryZhkQxz9iFk2Tvh2y1d83dmPMxo5gypvPc0A-KPhKMTWqSRtnJVKjIXFwMUGa6ltl7IRPLvwn8FBhzMvCJhvlyq2E8WhalKvvVx2NSjWACSd7gRfxXmbpWKGBCmUBkFX_lwfwV-MmLU/s320/100_5619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472271732740177538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here we are hiking up St. Catherine's. This was the terrain. Now imagine a family of 9 with not much camping experience and no toilets. Todd's going to correct me on this I know, so let me clarify. I have 3 girls with little camping experience. They've never really learned how to "squat." And notice there are no big trees or bushes to hide behind. Only big rocks. It was challenging but a true camping experience.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR55jXzm5hiUF5onXfKs215Vyw52ekxcTkErpy8SWgPyhjMINMZYt7jlBkmD9CBinliZj2cjgrSDrV_Rq6X8aV4_vT7SqaVII5mwcHQyxN5oj3WFUpPguC4oMwUkXzr1N4cj-7t9hsX_U/s1600/100_5603.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR55jXzm5hiUF5onXfKs215Vyw52ekxcTkErpy8SWgPyhjMINMZYt7jlBkmD9CBinliZj2cjgrSDrV_Rq6X8aV4_vT7SqaVII5mwcHQyxN5oj3WFUpPguC4oMwUkXzr1N4cj-7t9hsX_U/s320/100_5603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472241771065479138" border="0" /></a><br /><br />More of our St. Catherine's hike.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie6jF3EUHeP3BhMipnfSXJZFqofrjcAh2hwWUy7uQAoQrAVJnQTeoKGFOLm6N9p-yS3vziL2g2iXHzAe7sxnfbgH4axlSB_Lfyqvzhf9uoUjPQ36NNdqOqnouWgFeRRbLsvKmCPpMjQ2g/s1600/100_5605.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie6jF3EUHeP3BhMipnfSXJZFqofrjcAh2hwWUy7uQAoQrAVJnQTeoKGFOLm6N9p-yS3vziL2g2iXHzAe7sxnfbgH4axlSB_Lfyqvzhf9uoUjPQ36NNdqOqnouWgFeRRbLsvKmCPpMjQ2g/s320/100_5605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472241773810344002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The whole family made it to the saddle of St. Catherine's. Critter and Batman continued with the scouts up to the very top where they got to sign their name in a book that's placed there for those that summit. Nacia made it to the top too and signed her name and graciously dedicated her climb to our family--or something like that. Maybe someday I'll make it to the top and see what she really wrote.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqA7oDhJrLWAbZi6I4p4YmRKlLkd1jbYA2EoF55qu5CxDqr2nqc2x4mfp39NaqLf0LS-4N_enG4IECSOCSdK5D7tIA2WSdVoErCgwNf8TRgIz-rUEUKfkAPSvKS30ivTIZQwZj81KNvmQ/s1600/100_5609.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqA7oDhJrLWAbZi6I4p4YmRKlLkd1jbYA2EoF55qu5CxDqr2nqc2x4mfp39NaqLf0LS-4N_enG4IECSOCSdK5D7tIA2WSdVoErCgwNf8TRgIz-rUEUKfkAPSvKS30ivTIZQwZj81KNvmQ/s320/100_5609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472271728658041682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The first night one of the families who were much more prepared than I could even think about, provided a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone with turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, stuffing, corn, cranberries, and little pie tartlet thingies for dessert. It was a great first night--other than the temperature. For most other meals we provided for ourselves. However, a couple of nights they provided us MRE's. Here we are trying to figure out how to work the MRE. It didn't turn out so great the first time. One half was hot, the other cold. By the last night we figured out a better system. In fact, to this day, if you ask Red what one of his favorite foods is, he'll tell you Beef Teriyaki. That's because on the last night of this trip he had a Beef Teriyaki MRE and it did look pretty delicious. I'm sure part of the reason he loved it so much was by that last night he was getting pretty hungry for some hot food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw09SeM2nDk-H7PGziYA_NWEWyjByRwYYJtbEZ8cX5RznhyNGIh0R4lBxy72rZ6tIb49Q7ZNUArXntqchCGs9kZMpqgPWnXMn97oAk-4X_CF8LsVUotvWjsHPe9hEaXB244IQ3iTbCylg/s1600/100_5623.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw09SeM2nDk-H7PGziYA_NWEWyjByRwYYJtbEZ8cX5RznhyNGIh0R4lBxy72rZ6tIb49Q7ZNUArXntqchCGs9kZMpqgPWnXMn97oAk-4X_CF8LsVUotvWjsHPe9hEaXB244IQ3iTbCylg/s320/100_5623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472276237345911730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />T was a little nervous to be so close to the camel.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU97nfDDwktdqFymyOJsHre2TS92dJtQAISZWUIWhgb53FEcudINYkm4Gm1etks3q0kdP9dM5PkGPnoyBgnw7vW8WoiSIpOnyr8um5_kD5LrbKdsBDTzLrKEz6xPPnJR9bxbFZIA-xX0U/s1600/100_5628.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU97nfDDwktdqFymyOJsHre2TS92dJtQAISZWUIWhgb53FEcudINYkm4Gm1etks3q0kdP9dM5PkGPnoyBgnw7vW8WoiSIpOnyr8um5_kD5LrbKdsBDTzLrKEz6xPPnJR9bxbFZIA-xX0U/s320/100_5628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472276251546539618" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This was our campsite at the base of St. Catherine's. Notice the little stone shack. We had set up a 3-man tent on the flat area outside the shack with the thought the littlest kids may want to sleep in it. However, the first night everyone but Critter and Batman slept in it so we could keep each other warm. The second night we were told the shack was actually a bit warmer because it kept any wind from coming through. So the second night we all moved into that shack and we did sleep a bit more comfortably.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATjXd6ZDBQpiZM9M2cKpfjKGrRjU_ClUtOnLhYxoOrcxZczIq5kmReqFx3Z6nsz132uVufmoEEcovMOwwmhHq0__exz37uDNX1nIPHRbYfuCygC2s6oJYQxBH_Kuh4KXfFdcjqLYORcA/s1600/100_5627.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATjXd6ZDBQpiZM9M2cKpfjKGrRjU_ClUtOnLhYxoOrcxZczIq5kmReqFx3Z6nsz132uVufmoEEcovMOwwmhHq0__exz37uDNX1nIPHRbYfuCygC2s6oJYQxBH_Kuh4KXfFdcjqLYORcA/s320/100_5627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472276242414100514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next day we moved camp to Elijah's Basin--near the top of Mt. Sinai. Here's a picture of our tent with Sinai in the background. Elijah's Basin was even colder. It went down to freezing temperatures during the night. We battled the cold by putting all of us in the tent on this last night. Yes, all 9 of us in the 3 man tent. We didn't sleep comfortably but we were reasonably warm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mcEx569_LdTEmMDSTWGooe1sXqvkvKcgz6v7kn_FX5Iz61s3oDpvZsH_-qP2H6kugkRKm50JHewvmR86mdXV-aKAQIkst5xdz5RnACGpAIQlDvZL3eDcvYboYbahyphenhyphenyJiA0FAZ3fvpT4/s1600/100_5635.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mcEx569_LdTEmMDSTWGooe1sXqvkvKcgz6v7kn_FX5Iz61s3oDpvZsH_-qP2H6kugkRKm50JHewvmR86mdXV-aKAQIkst5xdz5RnACGpAIQlDvZL3eDcvYboYbahyphenhyphenyJiA0FAZ3fvpT4/s320/100_5635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474778149609378610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The original plan was to hike Sinai early in the morning of our last day. We arrived to Elijah's Basin earlier than planned so many decided to hike it the afternoon/evening we arrived. By that time though our family was pretty exhausted so we didn't go up. We decided to go with the original plan and wait til that next morning to see how we felt.<br /><br />Early the next morning, Nacia came to the outside of our tent and woke us up to see if anybody wanted to hike up with her to watch the sunrise. We sleepily looked around and there were no takers so told her to go ahead without us. But now we were awake. I looked at Todd and told him I'd maybe like to go since I'd never done it (Todd went to the top of Sinai when he was here as a BYU student.) Then Petey and Critter decided they wanted to go too. Todd agreed to stay back with the younger kids.<br /><br />We scrambled to find our shoes and coats so we could catch up to Nacia. Cricket decided she too wanted to go. So up we went. We were moving fast and Nacia was nowhere to be seen. The air was cold, our lungs were hurting, the sun was rising. We knew we wouldn't make it up to the top before the sunrise but still the views of the sunrise were spectacular. It's popular to do this hike for the sunrise so Sinai was pretty crowded with tourists--many of them praising the Lord and giving thanks to the Lord Almighty for providing them with this great mountain in Africa followed by shouts of "Amen."<br /><br />Part way up, Cricket asked where we were going. I explained we were on our way to the top of Sinai. What else would we be doing? She thought we were getting out of the tent to go find the bathroom. (Elijah's Basin had some outhouses.) She didn't want to go to the top of Sinai. By this time though she was far enough up that she decided to continue.<br /><br />Petey had to stop to catch her breath while Critter, Cricket and I trudged on to try to catch up to Nacia. We did stop just before the top when we realized we were missing the beautiful view of the sunrise in our quest to catch Nacia. So we stopped to catch our breath and enjoy the scenery. Petey caught up to us and we continued on up to the top after the sunrise. We hadn't been up there long when Batman showed up. He'd decided to come on up. The top isn't that big and there's really only one way up and down and we didn't see Nacia.<br /><br />We took this picture at the top of Sinai. Don't they look happy?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUmhkcM1xhbUyqsBqdheWONwb0OILY4qy5QjhC6LZn10M2J2FZsvMl2F3xu9hAYeuwWxp4dxcZB04_afImUVkZDayTkhnLzj7JRRw3f9yneYqx_YJ8_xOVwTiEdFrshsNxBFmK9R0pOA/s1600/100_5647.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUmhkcM1xhbUyqsBqdheWONwb0OILY4qy5QjhC6LZn10M2J2FZsvMl2F3xu9hAYeuwWxp4dxcZB04_afImUVkZDayTkhnLzj7JRRw3f9yneYqx_YJ8_xOVwTiEdFrshsNxBFmK9R0pOA/s320/100_5647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474778156268952802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So to conclude the long story, on our way down back to camp we met up with Nacia who was on her way up to find us. Turns out, when she woke us up to ask if we wanted to hike with her to see the sunrise, she only meant on one of the big rocks near our camp--she didn't mean Sinai. So she'd gone to a completely different place. When she came back to camp she was told that we had followed her up Sinai and felt bad so she came to find us. That's ok though. I'm so glad we did it and we can say we climbed to the top of Sinai.<br /><br />Here's T, Todd, and Red saying goodbye to the camels before we leave back to Cairo. Notice the Bedouin men in the background.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiet4YM1zwj6pBAD8vTTXqB0WkakYqR_bWvyYxsT689t754lEA5TZ1cHCghl82H3OWFpNE_O6GBz3yUHHBd_UBfftzKufDnSoaoQyjo8uMLRcvRrQlmHWH7s0CafFeY-wKT81Cq2kVSPnQ/s1600/100_5653.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiet4YM1zwj6pBAD8vTTXqB0WkakYqR_bWvyYxsT689t754lEA5TZ1cHCghl82H3OWFpNE_O6GBz3yUHHBd_UBfftzKufDnSoaoQyjo8uMLRcvRrQlmHWH7s0CafFeY-wKT81Cq2kVSPnQ/s320/100_5653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474779422476545842" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Nic showing us her sweatshirt after 4 days of camping.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKko4uMenOc8sU_GdNuYzFmec2dDy7bbLyt9hC-QsG6DIF7wqc2wlDGLTayfE9otC1WNIn-btObctFtJfAFf8DpN-QSrKXHwpbWlqSHDfNYwppFNT-jOEMZk-9txAbXTIm3ZhEpc51Fv0/s1600/100_5649.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKko4uMenOc8sU_GdNuYzFmec2dDy7bbLyt9hC-QsG6DIF7wqc2wlDGLTayfE9otC1WNIn-btObctFtJfAFf8DpN-QSrKXHwpbWlqSHDfNYwppFNT-jOEMZk-9txAbXTIm3ZhEpc51Fv0/s320/100_5649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474779413379828370" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The monastery at the bottom of Sinai was closed when we came down so we didn't get to see that. I guess that will be a reason to return to Egypt someday. Here's our final family picture with Sinai in the background. An amazing, unforgettable adventure over.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2H8hAlNs3XYHNGUtz6ljRLi2te0R89G35T9iNseltTmUHWdy9i983s8ZTixf2O-mcuLtQMcaazRocQ0vzHMa2o2bd6iz-HiDsqXXONwu2tGS3F87B7QFs6VzvetHAw5Fvsp5kwW_aCs/s1600/100_5648.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2H8hAlNs3XYHNGUtz6ljRLi2te0R89G35T9iNseltTmUHWdy9i983s8ZTixf2O-mcuLtQMcaazRocQ0vzHMa2o2bd6iz-HiDsqXXONwu2tGS3F87B7QFs6VzvetHAw5Fvsp5kwW_aCs/s320/100_5648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474778164821732898" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-82371714909874767332010-05-21T16:20:00.006+03:002010-05-21T22:00:57.425+03:00Ode to Catherine...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiQieZmP3geOS4-eAOCPKl8cRC1zgIZPNp3k1ycbnqy4A4F4ddNwjjvrT0lOwwR_bIBapfc-vvsfuBe26-HX26fseQtWZqlOHAjtPLXfGKFP08R2UIjbuhbczLL6AI0gVx-s9zwhKZTC1/s1600/23012010019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiQieZmP3geOS4-eAOCPKl8cRC1zgIZPNp3k1ycbnqy4A4F4ddNwjjvrT0lOwwR_bIBapfc-vvsfuBe26-HX26fseQtWZqlOHAjtPLXfGKFP08R2UIjbuhbczLL6AI0gVx-s9zwhKZTC1/s320/23012010019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473717151984903874" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">It was recently Catherine's 29<sup>th</sup> birthday, again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She has now celebrated three of those birthdays (I guess that’s 10%) of her birthdays outside of the United States. I am grateful to her for being not just willing, but embracing of our time outside of the United States. I know that I don’t fully appreciate the sacrifice that Catherine has made not just for me, but for our entire family to be here, and I want to highlight a few things in celebration of her birthday, that to me, epitomize just how incredible this woman is.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As many know, we made a decision in May of 2007 to move to the Middle East. At the time we decided, Catherine was 6 months pregnant with child number seven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We made the decision that she would fly over to the Middle East (not knowing which country we would be in) with the seven kids by herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>While her dad thankfully and wisely traveled with her (Thanks Dad!), she nonetheless was prepared to leave the country on her first international trip, to a Middle East country, with 7-kids, with 18 pieces of luggage, by herself. If that is not the sign of an amazing woman, I’m not sure how one is defined. However, in conjunction with that move, she also managed the whole sale of the house, selling and packing of household items, and all of the things associated with selling and moving – BY HERSELF.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She met and executed all of these things with a one-month-old baby and six other kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When she arrived in Kuwait, she immediately jumped into the middle of things, and was even driving in Kuwait City within 2-3 days of her arriving. Street signs are in Arabic, traffic laws are mere suggestions, and she doesn’t have a cell phone, but off she goes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She had to survive for 2 and half months without any of our possessions from the states because of delays in the international shipping. This meant she had to make it through Thanksgiving and Christmas, away from home for the first time, with none of her regular supplies and furnishings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She provided for our family in both instances with smashing success! Thanksgiving was actually one of our best ever, and Christmas had all the traditions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She made it through all of this with me being gone over 50% of my time. I even left just a few days after she arrived in the country. I’m not sure to this day how she managed that and why she just didn’t fly home. While in Kuwait she managed all the kids and their school issues, plus Church callings, plus all of the home issues including finding the best shopping places, keeping the kids in clothes, and keeping our family happy. She successfully managed all of this, most of it on her own.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We finally received our shipment from the States and found out we would be moving a few months later to Bahrain. So, less than 8 months after arriving in Kuwait, we find we are moving and have to start the whole process over again. She flies to Bahrain to register kids in school (alone I might add), we went over and looked at houses and basically got our hearts and minds set on Bahrain…. only to discover a few weeks before the move that we were instead going to Jordan. What a mind shift! Not only the actual mind shift, but the fact that we had to change schools, homes and the whole logistical arrangements that are accompanied with moving. But once again, my wife comes through like a superstar. Because our house wasn’t ready in Jordan, we waited as long as possible, until the end of June 2008, before moving the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, she comes with the family and lives in a 2-bedroom apartment for 2-weeks before flying back to the States. But wait, two days after arriving in Jordan guess who had to travel. Mmmmm, that would be me. So, she is alone in Jordan with 7-kids, not speaking the language, not knowing where to go, and I am out of the country. Then, the water runs out in the apartment. Can you believe this? In fact, Catherine wrote a whole blog about this and what does she do? She makes a joke out of it! Not a rant or a rave, not a yelling and tizzy fit, but she is cracking jokes and having fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately, she was going home, however, who was going later? Err, that would be me again. So, she goes ahead and flies back to the States with 7-kids, by herself (that would be two completely international flights now without me).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sure enough, she goes willingly and not complaining the whole way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, I follow her home a couple of weeks later to spend about a month there and we return together…to an unfinished house.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We moved into the house in August and enjoyed the rest of our time in the Middle East there, or not as the case may be. Every time I left, Catherine had another challenge. Maybe it was the water that ran out, the kerosene rant out, problems with the car, power going out, and the list went on and on. Yet once again, this amazing woman suffers through it all. Through a little bit of school on the list and dealing with two kids at home and it gets a little better. The capper of our time in Jordan is that every other week, I went to Egypt. So, for roughly the next nine months I spent every other week in a completely different country leaving my wife to fend for herself and seven children. What kind of husband does that? Not a very good one, that is for sure, and yet Catherine went through it all and came out smelling like a rose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To add to this, every time she went to the school, some of the programs and content was in Arabic, so she had to deal with that challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately, she had some kids that were starting to speak Arabic and they were able to help, because someone else wasn’t around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We did manage a few trips, but most of the time, I was busy working and so she was managing on her own. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once again, our major holidays were spent with Catherine heading things up, and we made fabulous memories and had a great time with her doing practically everything.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">While Jordan was truly enjoyable and we had a great time, we knew that even with her infinite patience and adaptability, it was simply not sustainable to have me travel every week, and so ultimately the decision was made that once more, in less than a year, we had to move. So, we once again began preparations, and because I was traveling still, she was left to most of the work, just like in Kuwait, and just like in the States. Of course, she is getting to be a pro at it, but still, I don’t know how she was willing and able to keep such positive spirits in the face of such circumstances.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our move to Egypt was done with a little more organization and we had the chance to come a couple of times, but perhaps because things were happening a little too easily, Catherine decided to shake things up a little bit by homeschooling the kids. As if all this turmoil and change wasn’t enough, she wants to take on a little more. So, she goes through the whole process and research of finding the right materials, ordering them, shipping them and then organizing them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was relieved in the summer of 2009, that after our move to Egypt, Catherine finally reached a limit. She was going to fly back to the States with me and return with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think that was the first sign that she is human in almost two years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We came back to Egypt and moved right into a new home. However, we had the same issues with water, electricity, shoddy home materials, bad plumbing, and the numerous other issues that she has to deal with on a daily basis while I am at work. Go figure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>However, not only did she have to deal with those, she had seven kids at home getting schooled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet she has managed to successfully deal with that. Then, we find while some travel goes down, I have to go to Iraq for a bit. Does she rant and rave? Nope, she kicks me out the door, telling me that if I get shot or something she’ll kill me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is the kind of stuff that most guys dream about! A wife who can truly do and be anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, we make it through our first year of Egypt and get ready for the second when guess what, we decide to return to the States. And when do we decide to do it? As usual, about a month before we were planning on our annual leave, we decide to move the whole family home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once again, she’s in charge of the whole process and is actually going to be by herself in the states for a bit finding a house, working on getting things set up, as well as managing 7-kids during the whole process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Throw on the fact that she is also going to be dealing with me doing traveling between the Middle East and the US through the end of the year. And she has the gall to tell me that she can handle it and it won’t be a big deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think I am the weaker part of us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">All in all, the things that Catherine has gone through over the last three birthdays have been challenges and issues that most normal people would have fallen apart on. She has not only been accepting, but has been the instigator of the positive attitude in our home during these times. She has been the center of our family, and truly the center of my strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I try to tell her that I love her and how amazing she truly is, but I’m not sure that words adequately express it. I’m not even sure there is anything I can ever do over the course of the rest of our lives together than can compensate her for what she has accomplished and done for our family and me during our Middle East sojourn. Through all of this, she still finds a way to keep herself fit and as hot as any of these so-called model type ladies out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While she will probably be very embarrassed by this post, I just want it out there how grateful I am for this amazing lady, and how much I love her. It’s not much of a birthday gift, but I’m not sure I can get her anything that would be. All I can say is I love you Catherine! And of course, I’ll give her the credit card and point her to the mall when we get home. Maybe that will help.</p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-83352136871002127962010-05-17T15:28:00.002+03:002010-05-17T15:53:39.906+03:00Primary Activity<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yvwDZVGHqU3KLyew1I4eu5c-3eHEsGrJxBsqyNDw0rrpnqetV-7cEFX8lKx5ULY19a3uAy4DIqXzPxXTBE92M1AKxaAc0OlWNwYFAUXtDetc5c7E6jyyG0aSVjbVLc67korMm08Mfok/s1600/100_5581.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></a>My calling this year has been a counselor in the Primary Presidency (we work with the kids under age 12.) One of my favorite activities was painting a wall that had some graffiti on it. For all the crummy walls around Cairo, I am really surprised that more walls don't have graffiti. This graffiti though was right by our church and was particularly crude so it was decided we would replace it with something more beautiful. Jill Smith, another counselor, is an amazing professional artist. She made the plans, organized the efforts, and the end result was fantastic. The kids get to see their hard work every time they come to the church. <br /><br />Here they are getting their instructions from Jill. The blank wall had been prepped earlier in the day with white paint and the outline of the project.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxomeu0ti8qD542bl1RB0CpEJsl8jUMHQvqc6sk85LC6IE8rvoh9oi4sSH4GWMruReUh8HmOjQS6XatPg5BDagWuM62JJZFKLmeBnLlL-FuBPr71a5Ms44xb1QVNgTph6z_CpzvXnqXI/s1600/100_5537.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxomeu0ti8qD542bl1RB0CpEJsl8jUMHQvqc6sk85LC6IE8rvoh9oi4sSH4GWMruReUh8HmOjQS6XatPg5BDagWuM62JJZFKLmeBnLlL-FuBPr71a5Ms44xb1QVNgTph6z_CpzvXnqXI/s320/100_5537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472216840378537714" border="0" /></a><br />The younger kids started in on the bottom half of the mural. They only needed to come close to staying inside the lines (or outside the lines as Jill explained to them about "negative space" in art.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Ta2mYO_UKEJTG3vmC_pHfBjqXz3y7f-DAcIuXLSK6eN3adoz6RhtKvBJsNYFc31Y4O95A5Nmg_ZPuYjB-JYjU6I2AUTAhA9ZCqOtgA4J6fZKGz45UFh6fF8L3EfUC64i69DKUyMpVfs/s1600/100_5541.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Ta2mYO_UKEJTG3vmC_pHfBjqXz3y7f-DAcIuXLSK6eN3adoz6RhtKvBJsNYFc31Y4O95A5Nmg_ZPuYjB-JYjU6I2AUTAhA9ZCqOtgA4J6fZKGz45UFh6fF8L3EfUC64i69DKUyMpVfs/s320/100_5541.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472216849888997586" border="0" /></a><br />As expected, the younger kids became more interested in rinsing out their brushes (playing in the bucket of water.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-l3n3xrfc2bA5Y4it_kmDfqcvfVmVDsq3O9Rcfu_g-xOwTiVGSNTujJ6ccFghKEYhbgXveDF6WeKwVkH-sg-sirY0kaxSlPBzSK6wtzy0mfDN8RPfb9kt05ZsXsF2GxLUlqh4qm9how/s1600/100_5542.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-l3n3xrfc2bA5Y4it_kmDfqcvfVmVDsq3O9Rcfu_g-xOwTiVGSNTujJ6ccFghKEYhbgXveDF6WeKwVkH-sg-sirY0kaxSlPBzSK6wtzy0mfDN8RPfb9kt05ZsXsF2GxLUlqh4qm9how/s320/100_5542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472216853602186114" border="0" /></a><br />Then the older kids started in on the top of the mural. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshCatTkeECZ_U75V_zEI7Uvxtf43jMS_IYH80B34q2qRMh4bUOyFijFM3RgtB-IH_Eue5Bv3DYIVMcV-h2EwUjDCG1oIopXMLtcY7CAL5W55zjvOkwtTnuVexGcKr59gERBJrIu49stw/s1600/100_5555.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshCatTkeECZ_U75V_zEI7Uvxtf43jMS_IYH80B34q2qRMh4bUOyFijFM3RgtB-IH_Eue5Bv3DYIVMcV-h2EwUjDCG1oIopXMLtcY7CAL5W55zjvOkwtTnuVexGcKr59gERBJrIu49stw/s320/100_5555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472216862329843330" border="0" /></a><br />Here's the incredibly beautiful finished artwork. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yvwDZVGHqU3KLyew1I4eu5c-3eHEsGrJxBsqyNDw0rrpnqetV-7cEFX8lKx5ULY19a3uAy4DIqXzPxXTBE92M1AKxaAc0OlWNwYFAUXtDetc5c7E6jyyG0aSVjbVLc67korMm08Mfok/s1600/100_5581.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yvwDZVGHqU3KLyew1I4eu5c-3eHEsGrJxBsqyNDw0rrpnqetV-7cEFX8lKx5ULY19a3uAy4DIqXzPxXTBE92M1AKxaAc0OlWNwYFAUXtDetc5c7E6jyyG0aSVjbVLc67korMm08Mfok/s320/100_5581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472216869021158114" border="0" /></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-85338213205410446932010-05-14T19:15:00.002+03:002010-05-14T19:35:32.723+03:00A Mormon Mommy Blog Moment or We Love Maya!Over the last several months I've considered getting T potty trained. He'll be 3 in August. He'd show signs of being ready but I am a procrastinator. The windows of opportunity would close and he'd want nothing to do with it. I'd wait for the next window to open. I'd procrastinate again. I wondered how I could do it when I didn't seem to have a day--let alone a few hours--to devote to this task. I'd talk to him about it, encourage him, set him on the toilet, give him treats, give him applause. It was a few minutes here or there but we never even went as far as taking him out of a diaper. <br /><br />Then came Maya.<br /><br />Maya is a Sunbeam in our branch and frankly, I think T has a little crush. Long after our families have moved apart I have committed to staying in touch with her family so in about 20 years we can get them back together.<br /><br />Maya and her family came over to our house last Saturday for pizza. A couple of times T witnessed Maya asking her mom to help her in the bathroom. That's all it took.<br /><br />The next day I asked T if he wanted to go potty on the toilet like Maya. He was thrilled to do it. He had one accident that very first morning. And there was an "episode" outside. I won't even call it an accident since he came right to me and proudly announced that he'd just pooped on the grass. I think it's the effects of living in Cairo. He doesn't see a problem with people relieving themselves out in the open. <br /><br />Anyhow, he's been accident-free (during the day) since. We have a toddler toilet seat that sits on top of the regular seat that he refuses to use. Yeah! (since I'd have to lift him up there if he wanted to use it.) So he just goes and takes care of things all by himself. We're working on him realizing he needs some help wiping in certain cases. It's truly been the easiest potty-training experience I've had with any of my kids. I'm waiting for a regression period but crossing my fingers that I'll just have to mention Maya and the problem will be resolved. <br /><br />We're still working on nighttime. We've been putting him in a diaper but the last 4 nights he's woken up with a dry diaper. We're also working on underwear. He refuses to wear it. Usually he doesn't even want pants. But at least we're able to convince him to put on some shorts or pants. The underwear will come. <br /><br />Thank you Maya! We love you!Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-56610566932183536132010-05-11T22:18:00.003+03:002010-05-11T22:24:41.126+03:00I can't sleep!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzx948Vlbtsl2acKAN4xyU3wZjjK8JA9bQg31dAYXoWo2qE9M3xVqgh_1sB56G2eEDWrdaZynuVnw-oC_pQVQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />A couple of weeks ago when the weather started turning even warmer, we were charmed by the noises of frogs in the common grassy area between houses. Every night at dusk the frogs would start their songs to one another. Now, . . . it is just annoying. All night long we hear it. And it's loud! The video hardly does it justice. The video was taken as I was standing on the balcony just outside our bedroom.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-53998088699202912052010-05-07T20:00:00.006+03:002010-05-07T22:00:37.771+03:00Flat Stanley/DustinOur nephew, Dustin sent us a Flat Stanley to take around Cairo. Here's what we sent back--a few things we've done over the last while.<br /><br />This is the first time I've used docstoc. I'm more than a little technologically challenged. Dad, if you have a hard time reading the small print, find where it says "docstoc" and follow it across til you see a box with arrows pointing out to all four corners. Click on that and it will go into full screen mode, making it easier to read/see. Hope that helps. <br /><br /><br /><object id="_ds_37782968" name="_ds_37782968" width="450" height="600" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://viewer.docstoc.com/"> <param name="FlashVars" value="doc_id=37782968&mem_id=4223400&doc_type=pdf&fullscreen=0&showrelated=0&showotherdocs=0&showstats=0 "/> <param name="movie" value="http://viewer.docstoc.com/" /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /> </object> <br /> <font size="1"><a href="http://www.docstoc.com/docs/37782968/Flat Dustin"> Flat Dustin</a> - </font>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-30479689240608470022010-04-10T13:26:00.001+03:002010-04-10T13:26:00.618+03:00Homeschooling in Egypt--Part 7--The EndNOT ALL WONDERFUL<br /><br />Not everything about homeschooling is great. Can I just say . . . 7 kids . . . all day . . . every day . . . <br /><br />One of the things I've let slide is making breakfasts and lunches. I still do ok with dinner (with lots of help from the kids sometimes). For breakfast and lunches though, they're pretty much on their own. It's turned into a problem though in that they all want and eat something different. The housekeeper cleans up breakfast but when I go to make dinner, I usually have to clean up the lunch mess before I can start. I've tried several different methods of having the kids clean up after themselves. After 7 months of these methods I haven't found one that works for us yet. I haven't given up. <br /><br />School time is consumed with helping Nic and Red through their lessons whilst T is crawling all over my back, on my lap, on the desks, etc. The oldest 4 kids have been pretty much on their own in getting through their lessons. They've been great about that for the most part. One thing that has slipped past me though is when they have to write paragraphs or essays or long answers. I'm supposed to read through those and make sure they've answered correctly. However, the kids don't always tell me when they need me to correct something. They say they "answer it in their minds." But with my English teacher background, I do realize there is value in converting thoughts and organizing them into comprehensible writing. (Something I wish I would've learned.) I have come to accept that I can't teach everything to all of them and I just keep encouraging them to do their best and I try to be a little more hands on with the older 4 when I can. <br /><br />Then there's the attitude of a kindergartner and 1st grader. If they don't want to do a lesson, they'll let me know. And sometimes in not such a nice way as I'd hope they'd behave toward a real school teacher. <br /><br />We have go-getters who wake up, get to work, get done, then want to play. I love that and wish they all were like that. The problem comes when the slacker-leaning children see the less-slacker-leaning children playing. They get distracted before their school work is done and it's hard to keep them focused when they know they have a brother or sister who is having fun without them. All year I've tried to use that as motivation to help them get up the next day, get to work, get done, and then go play. It hasn't worked yet. Once in a while I see glimmers of hope. Meanwhile I have a couple of kids who are on track to finish early and others who may be working through the summer. <br /><br />So overall, I'd give homeschool the grade of B+. I think A is unattainable. There will always be something bad about homeschooling (like keeping track of all their papers--what to throw away--what to keep in case a future school wants to see what they've learned, etc.) It's not an A- because I still think there are benefits a regular school has that I can't give them at home. I'm good with the B+. It works for our situation at this time in this place. <br /><br />I hope I've answered most of your questions. If not let me know. Thanks for reading!Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-54397709460400697032010-04-07T22:41:00.001+03:002010-04-07T22:41:00.388+03:00Homeschooling in Egypt--Part 6RESULTS<br /><br />We are so glad we did it. We didn’t know it when we decided but CAC has had multiple school closures especially the first few months of school due to swine flu scare. Egyptians really got some bad information and you couldn’t convince them otherwise. School was closed for nearly a month near the beginning of the school year and parents were getting assignments online. They were having to homeschool their kids. After school was back in session, there were random classroom closures. If someone in a class got the flu they would cancel school for that group to make sure nobody would be spreading it. We were happy that our schedule wasn’t being disrupted. <br /><br />We have been happy to have a flexible schedule. The culture here is one of late nights. We haven’t figured out how parents keep their children out so late at night but expect them to do well at school the next day. (Personal aside—they don’t. Education doesn’t seem to be as valued here. They want their kids to have the American education but aren’t willing to put in the sacrifice. Rant over.) So when Todd’s work had an event that kept us out later than normal we didn’t have to worry about how we were going to get everybody up and out the next day. We have kept a morning routine that starts at 7:30 a.m. so we’re trying not to get too lazy. <br /><br />It’s been great when we’ve had visitors we can go site seeing with them without fear of falling behind on school. We can work ahead or catch up on our own time. <br /><br />All this being said, I am not on the “once you homeschool you never go back” train. While it has its many benefits, traditional school also has many benefits. Since Petey is entering 9th grade next year (and we won’t have to buy as many supplies now) we’ve given her the choice of going to CAC or homeschooling. She has chosen CAC but for a brief time considered staying with homeschooling because of those benefits. While we were in the midst of deciding to stay in Egypt or go back to the States we asked the kids what they’d want if we moved back. None of them could really say for sure if they wanted to go back to regular school or continue with homeschooling. It depended on a lot of things. So that told me that they’re not unhappy with homeschool. Yay!<br /><br />I sort of feel like a homeschool traitor because I’m not yet convinced homeschool is the only way to educate. I also feel not typical because of our situation here. It would be a completely different situation if I were in the States having to pay for our own curriculum and supplies. We chose a very traditional curriculum (k12.com.) It seems many homeschoolers want to get away from the traditional education which is why they homeschool. After our experiences at ASK and ISC, I wanted to get back to a traditional education. <br /><br />Homeschool skeptics are worried about the social aspect. We have them involved in church activities, group tennis lessons, group gymnastics, and scouts and things like that so they meet other kids their age. Their “best” friends would be from the church but they’ve made friends in the other places as well. It’s been good for our family. I think they’re interacting more with each other than they would have otherwise. The interaction isn’t always compliments and sweetness but they are very aware of what is happening in each others’ lives. The older ones watch out for the younger ones and help with getting them food, helping with their lessons, playing with them, etc. <br /><br />So there’s my homeschooling in Egypt novelette. Happy homeschooling!Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-77526090889310789072010-04-04T22:40:00.000+03:002010-04-04T22:40:00.389+03:00Homeschooling in Egypt--Part 5CAIRO<br /><br />Then we found out we were moving to Cairo. There is an ISC-Cairo but after some asking around we were convinced it’d be more of the same of what we experienced in Amman. We then looked into sending them to Cairo American College (CAC). CAC is where the majority of expat kids go. The embassy kids all go to CAC. Once we added it all up for now 6 school age kids, we came to the grand total of about $92,000 to send our kids to CAC. Todd’s work gives us an allowance for our kids’ education but it wasn’t $92,000. <br /><br />We also considered location. Todd’s work was in an area of Cairo called Heliopolis. CAC is in Maadi. Someone was going to have a killer commute if we chose one of those places. Our church is in Maadi, so is scouts, piano lessons, doctors . . . So we knew we’d be making some trips to Maadi. We settled on living in Katameya, in between Maadi and Heliopolis. (However, we’re now looking at moving to Maadi because now after living here the “horror” stories of the commute from Maadi to Heliopolis just aren’t true. We find ourselves making the 30+ minute drive [depending on day/time of day] to Maadi several times a week. Since we have a driver Todd can work during the commute, thereby not losing any work time.) <br /><br />But lets get back to cost. We analyzed that as well. It was roughly $15000/per child for CAC. Keep in mind you as tax payers are paying that for those that are gov’t workers. But we can get into a political discussion later. For less than what it would cost for CAC, we were able to get things like:<br /><br />• A full curriculum for each child which included all textbooks, workbooks, online guidance, lesson plans, teacher guides, science experiments, art supplies, literature books, for all subjects (Math, Language Arts, Literature, History, Art, Science, Phonics, Music, etc.)<br />• Macbooks for each child<br />• Microsoft Office for said computers<br />• Custom built bookshelves and desks for each child<br />• Health club membership<br />• Piano lessons<br />• Arabic tutor<br />• Tennis, gymnastics, baseball, and swimming lessons<br />• Two languages from Rosetta Stone<br />• Multiple “Field trips” to the pyramids, museums, Nile River, Azhar Park, etc.<br />• Extra supplies like notebooks, printer cartridges and paper, pencils, etc.<br /><br />I list this just to give you an idea of what we were able to buy for less than what it would cost to send them to CAC. After this, it was a no-brainer for us. So we took the plunge and committed to homeschool.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-73201318870777562532010-04-01T22:35:00.001+03:002010-04-01T22:35:00.583+03:00Homeschooling in Egypt--Part 4AMMAN—BAD MIDDLE AND END<br /><br />Frequently my kids would come home frustrated because they didn't speak the language. They were frustrated because if a teacher couldn't speak fluent enough English to explain something in the lesson, the teacher just explained it in Arabic. OR, if a supervisor was unhappy with a classes behavior all the yelling and berating (and there was that) was done in Arabic. My kids weren't ever sure if they were in trouble or not or even what they should avoid to stay out of trouble. The kids at the school spoke to each other in Arabic so my kids were kind of the outcasts because they couldn't communicate.<br /><br />I know what you're thinking because I thought the same thing . . . "They're in a foreign country and their upset the people speak the local language?" No. We weren't upset. It's just that we felt like we'd done our research, asked the questions, got the right answers so our kids would be the most comfortable with their school AND still be getting an education. We actually only very briefly considered taking them out and putting them somewhere else but decided to keep them at ISC because what better way to learn a language than to be immersed in it? (Nevermind the fact we'd already spent tons of money on uniforms--right even down to the black shoes they were supposed to wear.) And I do think that was one benefit they got from ISC was a better sense of the Arabic language.<br /><br />However, the education was only slightly better than ASK. If a teacher was sick or absent they didn't get substitutes. If a supervisor or another teacher was available then they would come in and sit with a class. Remember, the Sabis lessons are very strictly followed in a certain order so not just anybody could come in and teach. So my kids frequently had free periods where they would just sit and talk. Sometimes they were told to study for another class. <br /><br />Another issue we had with ISC was something we originally thought we liked--and that is the activities. Each term the students could sign up for an activity to be held once a week during their lunch break or at the end of the day--depending on the activity, their grade, etc. It was a great idea. My kids played basketball, learned to cook some things, swimming, tennis, golf, drama, did crafty things. . . The problem was that their activity was only once a week. So 4 days of the week they had a lunch break that was 1 1/2 hours long. On their activity day their lunch break was 1/2 hour. It was perfect for activity day but on the other 4 days, 1 1/2 hours was a long time. Especially for my younger kids. They were doing construction the entire school year long that required the playground to be shut down/off limits. So the entire year the kids didn't have anywhere to play but still had that 1 1/2 hour break 4 times a week. My kids all left for school at 7:30 am. Cricket and Red returned at 3:30 and the older ones at 4:30. Those are some long days when they're not even doing extra-curricular activities. <br /><br />Then there was student behavior. Many of you have heard me talk about “wasta.” That is roughly translated as having influence. The parents of the students at ISC had wasta. If their kids misbehaved there was no recourse for the administration. They couldn’t expel nor even suspend the students. Their method of suspension was sending the students to sit in the supervisor's office for the rest of the day but the same kids were right back in class causing problems the very next day. The problem behaviors ranged from throwing things out the window, theft, setting things on fire inside the classrooms, yelling back at the teachers/supervisors, etc. To be fair, I do think the overall atmosphere of the school was one of discipline but it only takes a few students to ruin it for the rest. And like I said, if the problem children have wasta then there’s nothing that can be done.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8256046665603074050.post-4718554325657858322010-03-29T22:34:00.000+03:002010-03-29T22:34:00.418+03:00Homeschooling in Egypt--Part 3AMMAN—BAD START<br /><br />We moved to Amman and spent about 1 week there before our trip back to the States. On one day I took the kids to a water park. It just happened to be on the same day that the ISC Amman summer program brought their participants to the same water park. What struck me is that the conversation between the students as well as between students and teachers was that it was all in Arabic. I definitely noticed it but decided not to be too concerned because I recognized this was their summer break and they weren't technically in school.<br /><br />Once we started though that fall, we soon realized the make-up of the school was 90+ % Jordanian and we were definitely in the minority. Most of the kids spoke Arabic fluently and only my 3 oldest kids had had any experience in Arabic--not even a full year since we came in the fall. Even though it's advertised as an "English speaking" school, it's not. <br /><br />I learned that lesson quickly when I went to a parent orientation on the first days of school. The school director was a British woman and while she talked she had another woman translating in Arabic for her. I wasn't put off by that because I realized there must be parents there that didn't speak English and good for them for wanting to have their kids attend a school where they learn another language than what's spoken at home (I was thinking of the Spanish immersion schools they have in UT.) A couple of others spoke--principals of the high school and middle school and the activities director. They translated for themselves. Very good. They knew both languages. <br /><br />But then the principal for the Elementary kids got up. Her entire presentation was done in Arabic. I came to find out later that she actually does speak English. But I guess she didn't see a need to translate into English because I'm guessing she assumed all the parents were Arabic speakers since basically all the kids were. I was definitely put off by this attitude when again, they advertised themselves as an "English-speaking" school. The director herself came up to me afterwords and apologized to me. I'm sure she recognized my look of "I have no idea what this lady is saying."Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17588907097967982456noreply@blogger.com0