Less than a week into Tunisia, a few thoughts. By Jessie D.

Quick parting thoughts from Morocco:

I forgot to note the biggest change since the Peace Corps for me, the huge prevalence of hijab [headscarf]-wearing–in the mid-90′s, only two or three women in my classes wore headscarves, now it’s the exact opposite. Even in Ifrane, land of the fancy Western dress, most women wear the hijab.

Despite the fact that we ironically didn’t have the five-star fancy Moroccan meal I’d envisioned, food was healthy and great. A little too “foreign” for our kids at times, but incredibly fresh fruits and vegetables. We had to request much less sugar in, well, everything.

3 HOUSE/DAILY LIVING COMPARISONS

OMAN:

BEST:

-bed, quite comfortable and roomy, great, if strangely patterned, sheets

-neighbor-our landlord’s daughter, Asmaa. Ready playmate, any time.

-neighborhood coffee–Starbuck’s-by-the-sea (no joke).

-play structures and parks for kids (again, heat would make these outdoor parks less fun). Play structures the size of small houses–bountiful, green grass…

-and most authentic camel sightings

-daily newspaper (of all things)

WORST:

-kitchen, strangely appointed, lit w/ugly flourescent lighting, any fresh air from outside usually contained cigarette smoke from the women at the beauty parlor that abutted our kitchen taking a break. Dorm fridge made storing things impossible–especially frozen things.

-need for AC-even in December, I’d put it on in our bedroom to sleep

-neighbor-our landlord’s daughter, “pain-in-our-Asmaa.” Smart little urchin whose parents let run completely wild, so she’d bring over toy guns, chewing gum, sneak into our house at all hours, pull legs off small creatures…

-Internet. We mooched off our landlord’s DSL. Weak. Not Skypeable.

-shower/bath situation. 3 showers, no pressure. ditto toilets, which required much pumping of flusher to function.

-expense $2,850/month to rent, and considered a good deal at the time.

-fruit and veggies. Mostly imported. 5 types of leg of lamb, from 5 different countries, for example.

MOROCCO:

BEST:

-T.V.–Al Jazeera, CNN and BBC included in the rent

-price-$400/month

-care (of us), 1 meal 6 days/week + cleaning (including laundry!) for $84/week-Fatima, whom we miss already!

-Internet, ironically. At least there we could occasionally get video Skype, even if downloads were still rough. $25 for the USB stick that allowed us to get Internet anywhere in the country, plus 2 months free use.

-cellphone–cheap, access anywhere

-kitchen–though the cabinets were stuffed so full of dishes, pans and other detritus that it almost loses to the more compact Tunisian kitchen. Great gas stove, functional fridge

-bathtub. Huge. Pink, holds vast amounts of water.

-proximity of kids to us for sleep–we had to go through their room to get to ours, so we were literally on the other side of the door

-donkeys

-food shopping, grt, fresh marche, or market, w/all fresh fruit, veggies, meat, eggs, every day, souq, or big, cheap outdoor market, on wknd.

WORST:

-most dangerous car rental–first car had no brakes, second was just in need of repair–we had a massive bubble in the right front tire that we prayed every day would not pop …

TUNISIA:

BEST:

-location + view–about 60 meters from the beach with fabulous view from shaded terrace. We already live out here.

-sitting/relaxing space-Terrace

-shower. Outdoors, by terrace, great for rinsing sand, high pressure and HOT. Almost makes me forgive the lack of bathtubs.

-cross breeze from one end of the appt. to the other

-friend connection–we’re renting from friends of our good friend sara maamouri, who will be here for a month this summer.

-floor for potty training. No carpets or rugs.

WORST:

-heat, to come. Had we stayed in Oman through the summer, that could not be surpassed, but here it will get HOT. Heat will be mitigated by beach proximity, however.

-noise, to come. Already, weekend traffic/noise is gearing up…but July and August are yet to come.

-most expensive car to rent $1000/month for teeny, tiny sedan, forget bigger

-least comfortable bed–which we were sure Morocco would have, hands down, as it was composed of 2 ponges side by side, i.e. a huge gap in the middle, but this takes the cake. Agonizingly squishy.

That’s it for now-more as it comes.

Things I will miss about Morocco. By Jessie D.

Things I will miss about Morocco:

-monkeys in our back yard.

-going to the marche (open air market) every morning to buy fruit, meat, veggies and bread -fatima, who cooks lunch w/the food i buy, and cleans!

-the clouds of Ifrane (our town)

-Ifrane

-my daily walk to coffee + “chocolate chaud” with Luc

-women’s crazy clothing color combinations

-great, cheap, fresh food

-our wonderful gardener, who taught our kids which flowers on the trees they could eat

-our guardian (guy who’s paid to guard our house, along w/several other residences in the neighborhood), who periodically brings the kids sweet yogurt and cake, and, once, a puppy he found in the woods

-speaking (or trying to) derija (unlike my Peace Corps experience I speak hardly any French up here)

-cheap cell calls that don’t get dropped

-the mass of humanity that walks everywhere in this country–all times of day and night, the people are out and things are hoppin’. We’ve frequently pulled over to the side of the road miles from any town and found that we are not alone. Nine times out of 10 the country will reveal itself to be alive with a few people coming and going on donkeys, mules, bikes and foot

-Fes, Marrakech and Azrou

-green, lush, fertile, loud with insects, birds and frogs-spring

-a big, comfortable house

Things I will not miss about Morocco:

-taking our lives in our hands every time we drive

–the mass of humanity that walks everywhere in this country, creating some of the more interesting road hazards I have ever seen (ex: woman adjusting hijab while crossing freeway without looking)

-paying a LOT of $ for a car that is barely functional

-all the stray animals -animal abuse (mostly donkeys and mules, still real beasts of burden) that is so prevalent that sometimes I see it without noticing

-massive police presence. The few times we’ve been stopped at checkpoints we’ve been let off with nods and smiles, but moving on the road as a Moroccan in this country means that you will necessarily be subject to searches and travel delays

Things that seem to have changed since I was here as a Peace Corps volunteer 1994-1996:

-much more construction here now–everything seems to be under construction now, roads, buildings, sidewalks…everywhere, all the time. Even the “driveway” to our home currently has a backhoe prohibiting us from parking

-cell phones + Internet access are ubiquitous, much cheaper and better than in the States

-there seem to be many more micro-projects, couscous associations, etc., for women than there were before

-more hijab (headscarf)-wearing. Now, nearly all women wear the hijab

***The biggest change in my Moroccan experience has been the lack of harassment. Which could say more about me, mother of 3, usually in tow, than the country, but the few times I’ve been walking alone, even in Marrakech, have been blissfully free of the “Helloooooo, do you speak English?s” of yesteryear. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the tourist policing has been effective–which isn’t to say that there is no harassment, as we’ve hard of women who have been attacked, but I haven’t suffered it

-thanks to new traffic laws, the speed of grand taxis has lessened considerably. When I was a volunteer, the Mercedes taxis were the fastest and most dangerous cars on the road–now they’re often the slowest and therefore most dangerous (because they are being passed in dangerous ways, rather than passing in dangerous ways) vehicles on the road

-fighting with Moroccans, a nearly daily activity as a volunteer, has been a very rare activity. Primarily, I believe, bc traveling w/kids means that we have no time to fight over the 10 cents “American tax” we often pay more than the locals. Most of the time we are too tired to be bothered. And getting paid in U.S. dollars, rather than Moroccan dirhams, even though the dollar is weak, means that it seems fair to pay a bit more

Things that seem the same:

-number of donkeys being ridden down the side of the freeway

-prices for rent (house and appts) -amount Peace Corps volunteers get to live/month

-amount you pay for a good rug–in fact, we bargain less to get the same prices we got 15 yrs ago now–if we work really hard we can them cheaper.

-people still get their food primarily from souqs and marches–I’d worried that Morocco might have been taken over by the “hypermarche” trend of the Gulf, but not the case

-there is still a great amount of poverty and handicaps–cleft palates, crossed eyes, twisted bodies, skin conditions, etc…

-there are still boys and young men everywhere with seemingly nothing better to do than stand by the side of the road, cafes, throw rocks, etc. They are ubiquitous and they need something to do.

 

A Day in the Life in Photos. Fes.

So yesterday we headed ~one hour down the hill to the Fes Medina. We had some work to do: meet a potential interview subject, and shoot some ‘b-roll’ video for the Fulbright project. While my job was only to shoot video, I slacked a bit and shot the odd candid photo of our family. It’s an incomplete look at the day…

As usual, click on any image to pull it up larger.

What to pack, when traveling with toddlers, by Jessie D.

As we lean toward two weeks before moving our family to another country,,,,yet again, Jessie fashions a list>

int’l travel in general:

-clothing appropriate to the season–bearing in mind that your children will not want to wear what they wanted to wear before, and they will now become enamored of the 1 pair of jeans they wld never wear before, and want 10 pairs of them -sleepy blanket/animal (try to limit to 1 of each)

-more pairs of shoes than you think will be nec. bc inevitably some will be too small, some still to big and those that fit perfectly the kids will never wear -ditto kid jackets when going to cold place -more diapers than you think you shld need (after all, you can buy them there, rt?!), esp. if your toddler has a big ass–this is mostly an american phenomenon

-don’t worry much abt what you will wear. you will only have the little space left in your bags when you are finished packing your kids’ shit, which won’t be much, and you’re a survivor. and as for that fancy outfit, throw in that little black (culturally appropriate) dress if you like. you won’t wear it (bc you are the parent of a toddler), but it will make you feel hopeful for the possibility of wearing it.

-do pack bathing suits for all, no matter what the weather, bc you will be v. sorry if you don’t.

-as many Igadgets as you own and can borrow, packed w/whatever games, videos or porn distracts your children. you will disparage them until they save your life.

-i’ve heard of the strategy of packing a bunch of new toys for kids, but if it’s the cheap chinese little plastic crap, it usually gets lost or breaks quickly, or only 1 child’s does, and the others fight to get that kid’s toy–and if you’ve spent decent $ on the new wooden, educationally correct toy, they usually hate it. movies and washable pens + paper and/or removable stickers work best for our crew. experiment at home.

-car seats if you care if your children live or die. huge ass pain, but mostly worth it. -don’t worry abt those neck pillows and eye shades for the airplane. you won’t use them. ditto reading on the plane, though you will want reading material for other nights–preferably a kindle w/a light, for when you are stuck in your fancy hotel room at 8 at night in city X, unable to go anywhere bc you don’t want the children to be babysat by somebody you just met today.

our drug kit: -sleeping pills (adults) -sleeping pills (kids) benedryl or whatever drug homeopathic drug works to knock your kid out when it must be done (4 hr road trip w/3 kids in back of 1 small sedan being the ideal time to administer said drug). test at home–benedryl has the advantage of being the perfect anecdote to the inevitable rash your child(ren) will acquire after eating X weird food that makes them break out in hives instantaneously -plenty of bandaids with fairies, spiderman, dora, whatever works on them (the extra $ totally worth it) -”pain free” spray antibiotic. they seem to buy the “pain free” part -butt cream that works for your kids -kids tylenol–chewable best, syrup sucks to clean, esp. in those cheery colors -butterfly bandage strips, small scissors -adult painkillers that work for you, including vicodin -cipro -theraflu/heavy duty cold meds -whatever cold meds for your kids you believe in -if you wear contacts, bring your lens solution. this can be surprisingly hard or impossible to come by.

to have in car at all times: -portable potty w/plastic bags for quick, nasty garbage (biodegradable best, of course, but in oman, for example, plastic it is). this is not only for the children. -diapers/wipes/plenty of tissues/paper towels -a handful of plastic bags (biodegradable swell) for wet clothes, poop, random shit you need to collect from roadside, snacks… -a small version of drug kit -1 full change of clothing, esp. underwear and pants, per kid. you will use them all. maybe 2 sets. -1 spare sweater per kid, regardless of the weather -kid amusements–whatever wks for you -kid snacks (biscuits are grt bc they can sit for days) -water -loud music

A Day in the Life….

This is for those of you who have asked how work’s going here (i.e. what the hell we’re doing all day…), let me give you this Saturday:

I wake up w/the stomach issues our whole family has rt now, help Rob fix two out of three pooped and peed out beds and bottoms, grab the camera gear he’s thoughtfully prepped for me (each time I film an interview I need fresh batteries in the microphones, the camera, the transmitter, receiver, the Tascam sound recorder, as well as new cards to record on for recorder and camera) and head out the door.

There is fog on the road, which makes the usually harrowing 1 hr 45 min drive even sketchier, given that the pedestrians, cyclists, old men on donkeys and moto bikes are no better marked than usual–i.e. I now have abt 2 car lengths to see them. So I am cursing the fog until I have to make an emergency pit stop on the side of the road and nobody can see me…stop made, I get back in the car for another harrowing 1.5 hrs till I find the small town before Sidi Kacem, wherin lie my subjects. Since I can’t remember exactly which tiny winding road leads to their house, I stop to ask a man who of course knows not only that family but the family of the Peace Corps volunteer who introduced me to these guys–she was Peace Corps mid-sixties.

House found, I unload the gear after greeting Malika, the mother, and Fatima, the daughter, who has her three young daughters watching as well. I am told many times how I shld have brought my three children (back this time–we had the kids w/us when I met this family) despite their runny noses and bottoms. They repeat this mantra so many times that I too become sorry I didn’t bring the kids. My explanation that I also work better when the children are not around was completely discounted.

I really wish that Rob were w/me to operate the camera as I start to set up. It’s always better to have a producer/director who can keep your subjects distracted while you fiddle around, bc setting up the tripod, the microphone, making sure the camera microphone is turned on too, putting the lavalier micrphone on Malika (getting it under the djelleba and hooked onto the pants underneath is its own trick), realizing that the light in the kitchen where I’ll be filming is a totally shitty yellow and too dark, so I’ll need to use the small portable light Rob has packed for me–thankfully, he’s remembered to give it batteries, too-re-working the ISO and F-stop of the camera, wishing again for something like “auto” all settings, like my video camera of old (where is the PD-150 when I need it?!)… takes a considerable amnt of time. this is a very manual process–so I manually focus and re-focus the camera, wish for a white-balance I cld adjust–then think that I’m sure that there is such a beast, but too late for me to find it now.

After abt 15 mins I can see that the ladies are getting restless and so I must start. I am reminded again that my Moroccan Arabic is rusty–I’m understanding abt 50% of what Malika is saying, which makes my follow up questions amusing at best, and probably annoying when not funny. I try not to be distracted by the sound of motorbikes screaming by the front door and Fatima’s young daughters, who keep popping their heads in to look at the camera. I have to run to the bathroom, which makes me happy again that my sick children are not in tow. I briefly wonder whether Rob is more exhausted than I as I refocus the camera, try to get a couple of close ups on the hands, the food, try to refocus the questions to get at this state of womanhood that I am trying to capture….

At one point Fatima, who has been standing at my elbow watching me film her mother, steps into the kitchen and tells Malika that she’s been doing it all wrong, and proceeds to show her what she should be doing, how she should be cooking for my camera. So we switch the microphone and switch ladies and I start with Fatima, who is more lively than her mother. I change camera battery and put in a new card for the camera.

I try to unobtrusively knock the toddler off the tripod, as it’s making my video shake.

We take an interview break to film and then eat the chicken, the salads and the french fries Malika and Fatima have gamely made me and I try to eat all the chicken they push to my part of the plate. The food is delicious. But I can’t eat it all because I’m too full and my belly still hurts. The women mention my missing children again, but commend Rob for taking care of them. Their husbands don’t help much around the house, I understand. My head hurts from trying to understand the rest. My derija has become worse throughout the course of the interview, I think, as I’ve been fiddling w/the camera, trying to adjust light while feeling slightly nauseous…

They show me pictures of my friend the Peace Corps volunteer, about 30 years ago, and she looks beautiful, with her toddler daughter on her lap in the middle of this family. She spoke and still speaks derija fluently.

I pack up all of the sound equipment, ask Malika and Fatima to sign releases stating that it’s been OK for me to film them, note that our light is out of battery, and move the tripod and camera outside to shoot the front door and alley…placing my ladies at home. I’m not entirely sure what they think, and I think that is probably a good thing.

I’m calling it a wrap. I am exhausted. I make a note to myself that this is the last interview I’m doing this far from “home,” because I have two hours yet to go–and I know I need to film a bit of the scenery on my way back.

When I get home, Rob has a glass of wine ready for me.

Though I’m usually not sick, this is basically what it’s like. I’ve filmed in several flavors of Arabic, French and English–I have a renewed appreciation for my camera people, and miss the days when Rob and I could work together on the same shoot–which may or may not be possible in Tunisia. But I watch the kids when Rob films the majority of the scenic b-roll outside. He’s a better shooter than I and understands the technology much better than I.

Our next hurdle, in addition to finishing the interviews and visual shooting here, is starting to edit the footage down.

Here’s to that.

Jessie’s Birthday Roadtrip

5 days, 1950 kilometers, 7 scratched and overplayed music CDs, and 1 Birthday Girl. More text and photos [once i pull the card from the other camera] to come. For now, enjoy the photos, and click on any to enlarge them. Happy Birthday, Jessie!

 

Now That’s a Souk

A few days into our time in Morocco, we ventured over to the largest regional souk. Its held in Azrou, a town about 11km away, every tuesday. Cool town, great souk. Just trying to navigate in to the muddy morass in our little rental car was an exciting start. Its actually the first time that I’ve ever tried to drive into a souk. Heretofore, I, like 99% of soukgoers, walked. Minus kids….that’s the real way to go.

These are pretty much hip shots. No one likes to see a camera around here. That will be something to work on. Remember with this blog, click on any image to view it larger.

Morocco vs. Oman – observations after just one week

-people walk in morocco. a lot. the sidewalks are used by all manner of man, woman, child and donkey pulling cart. at all times of the day, even in the middle of rainstorms. oman the country is much like los angeles the county. where people will park on the sidewalk to avoid walking an extra 5 parking spaces (we’ve seen it happen)

-snow. as in, it’s possible here.

-it’s impossible to provoke a fight in oman.

-this is more visibly a police state. as in, with checkpoints, everywhere. i’d forgotten the need to carry passports at all times.

-vegetables are good here and all grown in oman. we buy it in souqs–in oman, the food comes packaged, from all over. rob once noted about six locales for goat origins.

-cars here look used. you look at them and can’t imagine that they were ever new. we live in a “luxe” town, and the fanciest car i’ve seen is a range rover. the fanciest car i saw in muscat was that mercedes where the door flips up…twice.

-moroccans still do the work here–all of it. omanis hire expat labor even at the general contractor level. here, everyone from street sweepers to toilet cleaners is moroccan.

-beaches. you can’t beat the shell-laden beaches of oman.

-men and women walk on the streets together here. touching sometimes. talking, arguing. it feels good to see. that wasn’t happening in oman, even though they would tolerate it w/europeans.

-abeyeas (the long black robes) are not fashionable here. fashionable here, thus far, are head scarves worn w/the tightest leggings and/or mini skirts possible (women) and pattern bleached jeans (men), and all shades of black.

-there, people text rather than call. here, people still call (though i haven’t hung out w/students yet).

-in muscat, conspicuous consumption was the norm–here, there just isn’t that sort of wealth.

-here, donkeys are still working animals, both in fields and as transport. there, most of the camels are used as meat, for racing, or for the sultan’s ceremonies. we only ever saw donkeys grazing in the wild, seemingly as decoration. they were very happy-looking donkeys.

-there, speed limits on fwys are often 120k, here often 60k–there, they have seatbelts but don’t use them, here, most seat belts are gone.

-there, alcohol only comes from duty free (2 bottles each), or if you are a resident and go through a process, sponsored by your employer, to get a liquor license. we can buy good moroccan wine in our town.

-here, coffee, pastries and styles are french. there, omani or american.

-most omanis speak perfect english. most moroccans don’t.

-here, people sell all manner of things, from fossils to a single bottle of olive oil, up and down the all roads–there, the roads were free of all but the occasional vegetable seller at certain crossroads.

-there, much to our surprise, people really didn’t bargain. here, they do. though here in ifrane, prices are surprisingly solid, and often, even in the souqs, noted on chalk, not to be bargained.

how our lives will be different in ifrane:

-we will be cold sometimes.

-we have a woman who comes to clean for us and cook some meals, but she comes when she likes, leaves when she chooses, and could easily work for someone else if she wished. not so oman, where many (even in villages!) have foreign labor from india or the phillipines or sri lanka…women who pay to get to oman and then are paid much less per month than fatima makes, and often don’t hold their passports and can’t afford to go home until their employer pays their leave.

-no preschool, so we will “home school.” (those of you who know us will find this amusing).

-we live in a town where some people go to church (and we are, in fact, renting from a priest).

-in oman, we worked out at a gym with a pool overlooking the ocean. here, we’ll walk and mtn bike.

-there, shower, here, tub.

-here, we have two cats, one dog, and a troop of monkeys living around the corner. there, we had 2 geckos that kept watch outside our door plus a baby on the inside who lived in perpetual danger of getting squashed in the window by our children.

-there, we made some friends we will keep. here, remains to be seen.

-in this empty town, we are the only house inhabited by anyone other than watchmen on our street.

-there, we drove a big, sweet, new mini van (ha!), here, we drive a teeny little car that stinks of cigarettes, has dents on all sides, no windshield wiper fluid and problems starting–for which we pay much more–and we pay about $4.25 per gallon for diesel, vs. $1.20 per gallon for gas in Oman.

-kids play in our yard here, with the dog and the playhouse our landlords made in back, there, they played at the beach or at the most elaborate play structures i’ve ever seen. here, the play structures are old, rusty, dangerous, and overrun with bigger and stronger kids who won’t back down.

-there, our kids were exposed to arabic primarily through the songs at their school–even our neighbor kids spoke to them in english. here, other than the few americans they meet, they will only hear french and arabic. rob and i are playing with both.

we’ve only been here a week, so can’t compare the political landscape, really, or anything deeper than superficialities, but those are the things that get lost w/time, so i wanted to note them for you all while they are still fresh, and seem different.

Notes before we go-

I think it’s important not to forget some things, so I’m going to write notes in no narrative order, because I’m currently incapable of a narrative:

Some quick notes before we go on our time in Oman:

I like best:

-that our journalist friend, Jackie Spinner, (real street cred, google her) spent the afternoon waiting for a protest that didn’t happen. Really, these are the gentlest nation we’ve encountered in our travels throughout the Middle East and North Africa. Rob and I refer to them personally as “the teddy bears of the Middle East.”

-the landscape that has amazed me on a daily basis. Just this morning we went the back way to Mutrah, the tiny town squished btwn cliffs and the sea, and it was an whole new landscape that made me want to keep exploring…and we’ve not even been to Salalah, the South of the country, which is supposed to oddly resemble Ireland.

-the birds everywhere–particularly the flock of bright green parakeets in our neighborhood.

-the endless festivals in the wintertime–Omanis seem to love to celebrate being Omani.

-the shells and shells and shells that we find at the beaches–I’ve never seen so many of such variety in my life.

-the fact that it’s still cool here to flaunt your wealth in the form of extremely flashy cars–like Lamborginis, Ferraris, that cool Mercedes thing w/the doors that flip up…the only thing missing are Teslas.

-mosques w/brightly colored minarets and domes.

-the turtles.

I’m cool with:

-there is no such thing as “hustle” amongst Omanis–except when they are behind the wheel (the speed limit most places is 120 kph, but we often get passed at 130). We speculate that the wearing of the traditional white dishdashas (long cotton dress) and sandals by men doesn’t help speed things along, but have no real proof…though the Indian workers who wear punjabi dress (long shirts with pants) can move quickly–esp. when crossing freeways. While on the subject of dress, the wearing of the black abeyas so trendy in Muscat in particular here (you see much more colorful dress in the country) is largely that–trendy–it’s not Omani. It’s a trend that comes from Iran. The woman I met who makes expensive, custom abeyas with lots of bling said that she was looking for a way to make $ and jumped on the abeya train for that reason.

-the fact that most of the expat community here work in oil and come from places like s. carolina and texas.

-people who want to take pix of our kids.

I won’t miss:

-garbage still thrown out of cars, my compulsive energy abuse here, kids riding in the front seats of sports cars w/out seat belts, trying to get women here to go on camera (this will prob. be a recurring theme), “hypermarches,” people who want to hold our kids while they take pix of themselves holding our kids, the sweltering heat we happily won’t have to endure come spring.

I’m sad we’ll have to leave before we:

-go to a camel race.

-” bull fight (or, in the Omani spirit, bull “wrestle,” they don’t get hurt here)

-go on the ocean in a dhow.

PERSONAL:

Highs:

-All 3 kids now swim with confidence and vigor. Three months ago, two out of three didn’t want to put their heads in the water.

-Two out of three now read.

-All three kids know several Arabic songs and phrases and ask cool questions abt God and prayer.

-Rob got to shoot the Tour of Oman, Jess got to spectate.

-We had two wonderful visits with mom and neighbor who got in and out safely.

-We have met some lovely people, several of whom we will hope to keep as friends.

-Visiting the Royal Calvary (some of the Sultan’s horses) w/my mom.

Lows:

-We’ve all been sick, many times. The kids worst, of course. Much puking, much peeing out of beds, necessitating much laundry and outsourcing of bedding cleaning.

-We had to upgrade to a minivan after our children nearly shredded each other in the back seat of our thrifty sedan.

-Two out of three children have required emergency visits to the hospital for head wounds (but a high is that each visit cost less than US $15 and we were seen within 15 mins).

-We were called in to see the headmistress of our preschool not once but TWICE due to the unruly behavior of child #3–headmistress thought she had the answer the first time but seemed less certain on the second go-around.

-Managing the work/kid balance has been HARD.

And now we’re off to Morocco.

May the winds be at our back.

We miss all of you who keep sending the kind words and support. Thank you.

Where a Flat Tire is a Good Thing…….

Text and more photos to come. This will be a post about our Wahiba Sands Desert crossing. Stay tuned.

It starts like this…..with our friends, the Gauberts.