Back Window Wisdom

I gather a wealth of wisdom off the back windows of pimped out cars. Most of them are Kias or Lancers {yes, those really fast ones}. There seems to be this trend among young men to put inspiring quotes in their back car windows using big window cling stickers. Usually in flowery writing. Some in Arabic. Some venture out in English. These are the ones that really changed my life this week:

Dream Nice. Hit Your Target.

King of the Rood

Oh Brother, You Are My Heart

Lovely Heart. What Dreams Are From. 

But the one that wins it all this week:

Looks like we all have two options...

Lovely London

We had a great time in London over Christmas. What a fun city! We saw all the great sites and museums and spent time with family...we couldn't have asked for more.

Of course, because I love traveling and life and culture and humor, I have to share some highlights...

1. I don't understand British humor {or humour, I should say}. Nevertheless, I laughed at all the commercials on TV and Mr. Bean, but didn't always understand why.

See what I mean? Is this a joke or are they serious? I guess I will never know because I didn't want to try and see what would have happened if I, err, "urinated in this area".

2. The weather forecast is done by the color of the clouds: white, gray, black. I guess if it is cloudy everyday, you have to make it exciting some how. But, that didn't really help me make any decisions about what to wear. So we just wore the same thing everyday. See?

This is the Tower Bridge on a gray day.

Here is Big Ben on a white day.

Look! Kensington Palace on a gray day.

And with black clouds. Just kidding...this is the sky line at midnight on 1-1-11!! Happy New Year!

3. The London Underground is AMAZING. When it works. For example: when the London Underground workers go on strike, NO ONE goes anywhere in London. Another example: when the line that goes out to the airport is closed on the day you need it, you spend $100 getting to the airport in a taxi instead of $10 on the Underground. It really is great... When it works.

Mind the Gap!

4. I don't think I have ever had to do a public apology on my blog. But, the time has come. I found that I have been influenced by the East more than I realized.

• I apologize to any person that I stood too close to while engaged in a conversation. I'm just used to a different definition of personal space.
• I apologize to ALL the people that I stepped in front of in line. I'm just not used to those.
• I apologize for staring at everyone who stepped on escalators coming out of the subway and automatically stepped to the right so people in a hurry could pass on the left. It was just all so organized. I'm just not used to that. (On this note... why do they drive on the left, but go 'American' on the escalators and stay right?)
• I'm sorry to all the great restaurants that I passed on by looking for a good falafel stand. I just get these cravings.
• I apologize to that taxi man who was so bothered we were crossing the road one meter away from the actual painted crosswalk that he rolled his window down and pointed to the crosswalk for us, yelling. We are just not used to paying attention to such sophisticated infrastructure.
• And specifically, I am sorry to this nice lady in the red coat who got really angry when I took a picture in St. Paul's Cathedral. I just forget to follow rules sometimes.

Pretty church though, eh?

5. My daughter can produce the perfect British accent. It made me laugh the entire trip. The Brits have such great English. Americans sound so boring compared to them. I was shopping for Wellingtons {those cute rubber boots} for my son and asked the clerk if there were more sizes available. He kindly said:

"I'm quite sorry, there has been a rush on Wellies according to the inclimate weather."

I found myself stepping in front of the elevator doors just so I could hear the voice on the elevator say:

"Please refrain from obstructing the doors."

And of course, no trip to London is complete without repeating at any chance possible:

"Mind the gap between the train and the platform."

But my favorite came on a cold night when my dear hubby and I were out on a date. He went to order me a hot drink to warm me up. So sweet. It was a special Christmas-y drink that was on the menu. My hubby came back with his head down and no drink. Apparently when he ordered the drink, the man told him they no longer have that drink because:

"VINTER IS VINNALLY VINISHED"

He was German...  not really British-speak, but funny.

6. The biggest highlight for me was this. Family. A picture says 1,000 words.

Aww, cousins.

Today is Tomorrow and Tomorrow is Today

I have made a shocking realization!

Living in a cross-cultural setting is challenging.

{this is not my shocking realization...wait for it}

Living in a cross-cultural setting is confusing and complicated and exciting and fun and exhausting.

{again...not the shocking part...wait for it}

I have always blamed these feelings on certain things:

#1 - functioning in a language that is not my first

#2 - working with people that are not from my own culture

#3 - living in a climate that is HOT

I have discovered that I have been blaming these feelings on entirely wrong things.

Now for the shocking realization:

Living in the Middle East is challenging, exhausting and confusing because I have to live through THREE MONDAYS EVERY WEEK!

Mondays are never good. They can be challenging, confusing, complicated and exhausting.

And I have THREE MONDAYS EVERY WEEK!

How? You may wonder.

Here is the simple explanation:

The weekend in the Middle East is Friday/Saturday. Friday is the Holy day that revolves around the noon call to prayer and sermon. The streets are quiet. Not many stores are open. Families are hanging out, eating yummy meals together. In other words, the Friday here is like the Sunday I am used to at home. So, by the time we get to Saturday here, I am jolted out of bed thinking it is Monday morning {after having just enjoyed a relaxing Sunday which is really Friday} and my alarm did not go off in time. But alas, I discover, it is just the end of the weekend {that being Saturday here, which is the beginning of the weekend where I come from}. SO, Saturday has become my Monday #1 experience.

It gets worse.

Then Sunday here comes around {which is usually a quiet, relaxing day where I come from} and my alarm DOES go off. I get my kids off to school, and get to work. In my heart and mind, I am functioning all day as though it is Monday because yesterday felt like the last day of the weekend {which would be Sunday where I come from making Monday today!} And I get to the end of the day and am tired and confused about what day it is. Then my iphone tells me I have just finished a Sunday even though it felt like a Monday all day and I go to bed feeling disappointed. And that concludes my Monday #2.

Are you following me?

OK. Then comes Monday {the real one here}. Since I was thinking all day yesterday was Monday, when Monday comes I realize the horrible, shocking truth: I have ANOTHER Monday to live through. So, I just make it through the day as best I can on a Monday. Fall in bed at night and am so happy knowing that when I wake up, it won't be Monday anymore. {But then am disheartened knowing that I only have four more days for the whole vicious cycle to repeat itself.}

Don't get me wrong, there are some perks. By the time I get to Thursday, it feels like I have survived a short week. After all, it was just Monday! Now, Thursday has become my new Friday. The weekend! Then I get to Friday and am so glad it is a day off. Then Saturday comes and the Monday jolt happens. Then Sunday comes and all day I think it is Monday. Then Monday comes and...oh boy, you get the picture.

I have lived in this situation for SEVEN years and have just now realized the reason why I am confused and exhausted at the end of most days {whether it is the fake Monday or the real Monday}.

Mondays are just not for me {any of them}!

Can't Stop the Giggles

Ok.

This is the last of my Debby Downer posts for a while.

I promise.

I drove past this pharmacy today:

{Sorry it is a blurry iphone pic.}

H2O Pharmacy

Life Could Be Better

BWAAA HAAA HAAA HAAA!

Celebrating Culture

This week we had a fabulous dinner with a great group of people.
We were all gathered to bid farewell to some friends whose job has transferred to another country. As I reflected on the evening, I was struck by the things that made it so incredibly enjoyable. Top of the list was the true friendships that had developed among a very culturally diverse group and the international flair that was scattered throughout the evening like the spices on our delicious dishes.
I counted more than nine different nationalities represented around our table.
There were Indonesian, Spaniard, Italian, Arab, American, Danish, British, Brazilian, Filipino...
The conversation at any given time flowed in and out of English, Arabic, Italian, or Spanish. Everyone just followed along and enjoyed the moment, the sounds, the laughs. We couldn't always understand the language (we get three out of the four between my husband and I), but we could always understand the emotion.

Our conversation topics ranged from great vacation spots, food, favorite movies, life in our little city, international politics, adjusting to moving/being transplanted, the International School that all our kids go to, jokes about local happenings (we got a lot of laughs/cries out of the recent rocket attacks!), and saying good bye.
The Italians got asked the food questions.
The Arabs got asked the government questions.
The Americans got asked the parenting questions.
The Spaniards got asked the football (soccer that is) questions.
The Europeans got asked the vacation questions.
The Asians got asked the hospitality questions.

I found it so interesting to observe how each culture said good-bye differently.
Some just cried.
Some confessed they would go home and cry into their pillow alone.
Some told wonderful stories.
Some told hilarious jokes.
Some made toasts.
Some spoke blessings.
Some shared memories.
Some were very quiet.
Some hugged.
Some kissed.
Some avoided the good-bye altogether, waiting for the last possible moment when they would bid the couple farewell one last time as the moving truck pulled away.
Some were already arranging reunions in the future.

In the end, we all celebrated our friendships that know no cultural bounds.
I've heard before that there are often more differences within a culture than there are between cultures. This was true around our table. All being so different, really we had a tremendous amount of things in common.

God has created people amazingly unique, yet desperately similar in so many ways.

Culture.
I'm a big fan.

Job Posting

If anyone is feeling depressed about the unemployment situation in the States, I have a great job opportunity here for you. The only job requirement is that you have a limited understanding and knowledge of the English language. Simple huh?

You see, the problem around here is everyone wants their menus and store signs and promotional materials in English, but very few have a complete grasp of the English language. I've collected a few examples for you just so you know what your job would entail:

Store Front Signs
New Yourk Nigt Club
Rest and Pup (restaurant and pub)
Shobben Mool (shopping mall)
Hair Saloon (salon)

Hotel Lobby
We are pleased to provide your hostage (?)


Grocery Store Signs
Ass Juices on Sale (assorted)
Prokle (broccoli)
Egplant Big Sht (I have no idea)
Multi-Green Bread (grain)
White Beaches (white peaches)


Menu Items
Fried Brian (brain)
Gordon Blue (cordon bleu)
rape and mint (grape and mint)
Salad with Herpes Dressing (herb dressing)
Roasted Aborigines (aubergines which is eggplant)
Chicken Boob (chicken poppers)

Grocery Store Promotions Gone Wrong
Baby diapers bundled with Maxi Pads for a special price (TMI!)
Clorox wipes nicely placed in baby wipes section (ouch!)
Painted in store front window: SALE! ALL ITEMS 0% - 50% OOF (I'd like to find the rack that is 0% oof...what a deal!)

So if you are interested in this job, please send applications my way.

I will try to rent you a FURNICHED FILLA (furnished villa) for you at 0% oof.

Nothing In Life Is Free...

It's always a good time to pull embarrassing stories out of the archives!

We were newcomers to the Middle East.
We had just come from the US, where everything is available at either Wal-Mart, Home Depot, or Target.
I was just adjusting to living in a big city where there were no apparent mega-stores or one-stop-shop places.
We had just signed a lease on our apartment which had a fabulous back yard for the kids to play.
My very ingenious hubby crafted a sand box for them out of building scraps left in the lot next to ours.
I was ready to fill it with clean, fine sand for hours of enjoyment for my children.
But, no Home Depot.
No Lowes.
Where to go?
I decided to start at a big garden shop. I was so proud of myself.
I even figured out how to say it in Arabic. I was really proud of myself.
I went in, head high.
I looked around.
I approached the employee with confidence.
I executed my perfectly formed sentence requesting to buy sand.
He smiled.
This was going to be so easy.
We would be playing in clean, fine sand by dinner that night!
There was an awkward pause.
His smile spread a little wider.
I panicked.
Did I say it wrong?
Are they out of stock right now?
Does is cost a lot of money here?
It all of a sudden got really hot in there.
The employee finally broke the awkward silence.
In perfect English.
He kindly said:
"Mam. Have you noticed we are living in the middle of a desert? We don't sell sand here. You can just drive out of the city with a bag and there is as much as you want for free."
I smiled.
I left.
I never went back to that place.
It really was too bad that I had not noticed that fact sooner.
We WERE surrounded by sand.
I swallowed my pride and went home.
I told my hubby we were due for a trip outside the city...and we had to take a bag.
Look at all the clean, fine sand we found!
For free!

And look how happy the kids were with their clean, fine sand and really strange unobservant mother.

Strangely Familiar

Apricot Lady is back!
We enjoyed our much needed break and feel rested and ready for another year of excitement and adventure...which I'm sure you will be hearing all about.
This last trip was our 14th trip across the Atlantic ocean! To my amazement all our luggage was again patiently waiting for us when we got off the plane. Kudos to Royal Jordanian! Our 'stuff' gets successfully from one point to another because of two factors...heavy duty $25 Rubbermaid bins that I bought in 2003 and eight brightly colored luggage straps that I bought at the Ikea in Athens, Greece 6 years ago. I should get paid by these companies for such a great endorsement!

For a lady who hates change (yes, I know, I picked the wrong lifestyle), these past few days have been a delightful reflection on how strangely familiar our cross-culture life has become. It all started in the Chicago airport when I giggled as I watched three young guys do their prayers in a quite corner of the airport using the slim cases from the Mac's as a clean resting place for their heads. I found myself greeting every baby around me on the plane or while standing in line for the bathroom with the common cheek pinch and exclamation 'Look what God has done!" or "May God protect them", always returned by big smiles from the mamas and babas as they tell me all about how wonderful their child is. I smiled as the plane landed and everyone erupted into claps and called out "Praise be to God". You know everyone is saying that during the landing anyway...why not just shout it out? I found it strangely familiar to get on a plane in the lush green, cool mid-west and find myself 12 hours later landing in the dry, brown landscape of the Middle East. I found myself enjoying how although completely covered the beautiful Middle Eastern ladies express their individuality through their colorful scarves matched with their shoes and purses. And I love their quite, calm mannerisms and the way they let their kids be kids and seem to just enjoy the moment they are in. I laughed knowing I could report to my faithful blog readers that the first thing I saw when I walked out of the airport this morning was a trashy cat finding it's morning snack in the airport trash cans. Then, our driver cheerfully announced "welcome home!' when a pick-up truck pulled up next to us on a major street through town with a camel in the back. And I cringed when I walked in to my house which was closed up for too long to find a bunch of dead bugs and evidence that we had a rat visiting and playing while we were gone. My dear husband is with the Terminex man as I type 'dealing' with the issue. Strangely familiar. But for a gal who does not like change, at least my life is predictable!

The Official Apricot Lady Shirt

There is a great little company here called Jo Bedu.

They make fun of themselves. I am a strong believer in making fun of oneself. They have brilliantly combined the West and the East by making t-shirts and bumper stickers with funny Arabic slang and hilarious Arabeezie {Arabi (Arabic) and Engeleezi (English) put together} sayings/spoofs.

You can buy a t-shirt that says: Wanna get Freekah? {Freekah is the name of a popular meal.}

Or these:

{Jameed is the goat milk they use on their national dish - mansef.}

Speaking of mansef...

Check out this one:

A spoof on this:

Well, look what I found!

In Arabic it says "Bil Mish Mish"

Translated: "In your dreams". It comes from this old Arabic proverb.

Apricot Lady is famous! {on a shirt}

**All the photos {except my new shirt!} were taken from the Jo Bedu Facebook page.**

Two Simple Questions

We live in a pork free country. It's not halal and all.

1. So who brought a Piggly Wiggly grocery store here?

2. And by changing the 'p' to a 'b'...does that make it all better?

{We have discussed this problem here before...and here.}

Apricot Lady: MIA

Well, I've been MIA for a bit.

Food poisoning turned amoeba.

Taking drugs that 'may have psychological side effects'.

They do.

Yet, there are still laughs coming my way.

While my great hubby was out buying more Gatorade, he brought this picture home for me.


Some products here just would NOT sell in the US.

Another 'P' Problem...

As quickly as I wrote the last post, another funny 'p' problem came our way.

My sis-in-law and I found 27 Dresses airing on MBC Persia. MBC is a big free-to-air satellite broadcaster. There's MBC Sport, MBC Action, MBC 2, MBC 3, MBC 4 and the list goes on. When American shows or movies are showing, there is usually some censorship. Definitely the love scenes, some language...basically they turn R movies into about PG and a 1/2. I have noticed that the Persian (Farsi subtitles - spoken in Iran) station is even more censored than our regular Arabic MBC stations.

Back to 27 Dresses. All the cute kissing scenes were cut out, the Arabic MBC usually leaves them in. Then there was a conversation between the two main characters. She was yelling at him about using their relationship to 'pitch' a story for the newspaper. Well, 'pitch' was censored out. At first, I was totally confused. They weren't kissing, they weren't even talking about kissing. Then it occurred to me...take out the 'p' and put in a 'b' and it becomes a word many would think worthy of censorship.

Not only do they have a hard time saying that letter, they must have a hard enough time distinguishing the sound and would rather err on the side of safety. MBC Persia is relatively new to the MBC empire. They must not want to run the risk of further upsetting the Iranian Ayatollahs. With the current nuke issues, that might just push things over the edge.

And a final confession.

This dress:
I wore it to my Junior prom.

I didn't have the gloves...

but I did match dye the shoes.

I truly am ashamed.

Pro-nun-see-aa-tion

I am teaching an English class at a great community center in town.

It has been fun (in an unhealthy kind of way) to be the one that knows all the answers as opposed to when I am speaking in Arabic and sound like a total doof.

There are some very common mistakes that Arabs learning English make. (Likewise, there are very common mistakes that English speakers make while learning Arabic.) One of the big areas of trouble for Arabs is the letters that the English language has that the Arabic language does not.

Case in point. A conversation I overheard while shopping at the grocery store:

Grocery Shelf Stocker #1: Can you give me the number for that item?

Grocery Shelf Stocker #2: It is BT 8546

Grocery Shelf Stocker #1: What is it?

Grocery Shelf Stocker #2: BT 8546

Grocery Shelf Stocker #1: Is that 'B' as in Baby or 'B' as in Bebsi.

Problem: There is no 'P' in the Arabic alphabet, so things like Pepsi turn into Bebsi.

Another example:

Yesterday I was in the car with my fabulous sister-in-law. Her husband surprised us all by sending her to visit us for her birthday! He scored a lot of points for that one...but what is he going to do next year? We were on our way to aerobics. My neighbor was with us. She has also been learning English and I was so proud of her for trying out her new English skills.

Neighbor to sis: Are you heavy on your visit?

Me: Is she heavy? What are you trying to ask?

Neighbor: Is she heavy here?

Me: [in Arabic] You are asking her if she is fat?

Neighbor: [Gasp!] No HAVVY!

Me: Oh! Happy!

Problem: That darn P again.

A Not So Subtle Message

The other day I was cleaning out some folders in our office. I came across something that has been giving me laugh attacks for a few days now and of course, I just had to share it!

We are always having to get small i.d. photos taken of ourselves..for gym memberships, resident permits, drivers licenses’…the list goes on. There are little shops around town, where you can go in and get your picture taken (think of the Walgreens passport photo service).

We arrived in the Middle East in the Spring of 2004. Strange people in a new country. Feeling kind of awkward. A little homesick. Do you get the idea?

We had to get our photos taken for some card.

When I picked them up, they were safely tucked into a little cardboard folder with a pretty girl on front. How nice. Isn't she lovely.

When I opened it to see how my pictures turned out, this is what I found…

That is kind of disturbing.

Something about my smiling little face and those two words...

CRACKS ME UP!!!

The Mystery Revealed

I have heard from a few that they tried to post comments...but could not. I will try to fix that!

Have you been dying to know?? Here it is...

It is moveable! It is multi-functional! And it allows me to plug my blessed iHome in and enjoy tunes in my kitchen.

Thank you Bomino for a great product. And thank you cute daughter for the yummy chocolate chip cookies you made that were sitting on my counter when I took this picture!

Moveable Multi-Function Transition Implement

In most stores around here, pretty much everything is Made in China. I know it feels that way in the States more and more. I think it is even more noticeable here because there are not the strict regulations that the US has on goods coming in. So, almost daily, I get a good chuckle out of things we find and regrettably buy. Below is everything written on the packaging of something we bought recently. Can you guess what it is? Leave a comment with your guess, I will announce if there is a winner tomorrow and reveal the mystery!

Bomino

Moveable Multi-Function Transition Implement

High Elasticity Plug

Production Introduction:
Our production be able to bear the high temperature and insulation, it’s adopt of import plastic materials for 100%. It have un-rust receptacle and deal with high-conductivity sheet copper. The modern switch have four metal touch with steel and cadmium. The life and load is very good.

Credit and promises:
Our company put into practice sales services. If you have found any quality mention, you can base on the invoice to gain the services just like can reject for a month, change it for six months, guarantee to keep it for one year.

Made in China

Some Observations and Questions I Have:

Are they trying to say the plastic is imported? If the whole world imports everything FROM China…where do they import their stuff from?

I agree, my life is pretty good. My load is good as long as I don't eat too many cookies.

"Our company"…what company are you? Is Bomino your company name? How do I contact you?

If I have a "quality mention", how do I base it on my invoice when no store in the country I live in gives me an invoice when I buy something?

After I have rejected the product for one month, changed it for six months, do I HAVE to keep it for one year?

Disclaimer: I am not in any way trying to dis China. Since I am an American and our country owes China about 18 ka-ba-zillion dollars, I feel the need to be respectful of China since they basically own me and my fellow countrymen. I am simply reporting the facts as I find them and asking some valid, further clarifying questions.

I Butchered Arabic

Arabic is a tricky language. I was getting pretty good (i.e. only embarrassed myself about a dozen times a day), then we moved back to the States. Now that we are back in the Middle East, it was time to brush up again and just dive in. As foreigners, we are warned early on of the common mistakes foreigners make with the language. Of course, being the on-top-of-things, totally together kind of gal I am, I vowed from the start to NEVER make those 'dumb' mistakes.

Today, I made the most common mistake any foreigner could make.

I have no pride left.

This is how it all played out…

Me: Peace be on you!

Butcher: And on you! How can I help you?

Me: Can you cut two chickens into pieces for me and put them on two plates?

Personal thought: Wow! That was good! You’re remembering a lot!

Butcher: No problem.

Personal thought: I need beef. Is this beef? How much is 1 kilo in pounds? I hate metric!

Butcher: Here is your chicken. Anything else?

Me: Yes, is this (pointing) cow meat or lamb meat?

Butcher: This is cow.

Personal thought: Man, I am doing good!

WARNING: This is where it gets graphic!

Me: I would like underwear.

Butcher: [Big smile and big chuckle.] Do you mean two kilo?

Me: [Pretending I did not just ask the man for underwear. ] Oh, yes!

Personal thought: I am such a dork foreigner!

Me: Could you grind it and put it on two plates?

Personal thought: Did that make me sound better?

Personal thought: Doubt it…I just asked the butcher for underwear! How will I recover?

Butcher: [Still with large smile.] Here is your beef. Anything else?

Personal thought: Can I have my dignity back?

Me: No, thank you. God give you strength.

Butcher: And give you strength as well!

Personal thought: I would like God to erase this moment from history!

After that, I have started shopping at a different butcher.

Some day, I will have to tell of the time I called my husband a chicken in front of a large crowd of people. What is it with me and meat words?

What's in a Name?

My sister and I often discussed all the names we had as top picks for our kids…this is when we were about eight. Luckily my hubby and I had nine months to discuss (argue) about what we would name our kids. And with our second we never knew what she was going to be until the moment she came flying (literally) out. As Americans we generally go for names that ‘sound nice’. We want to make sure the initials don’t spell some bad word. We think of all the things kids could possibly say to make fun of our kids’ name. Then, the name is decided.

In the Arab/Eastern world, name picking is much more focused on the meaning of the name. Think of all those Old Testament passages about the names and their meaning. I always felt bad for that guy whose name meant ‘he brought his mother pain in child birth’. If I named my kids according to their births, they both would have swear words for names!

I have a horrible name for the Middle East. I have never been able to find the official meaning of my name. Remember those inspirational cards that have your name and meaning? Most names had great descriptions like ‘strength’, ‘truth’, ‘loyalty’. Well, mine was always along the lines of ‘from Lindens Isle’, one even said ‘from the Island of Serpents’. Basically I was named after an island that was apparently filled with snakes. Not a good omen.

After we moved in, my neighbor and I were getting to know each other. She was having a very hard time with my name. I said it over and over. I spelled it in Arabic. Then she asked me the dreaded question…’what does it mean?’ I had two options: tell her my mom picked it from a soap opera (ie: bottomless pit of Western immorality) because she liked the sound of it OR tell her it means she lives next door to a lady from an island filled with snakes. Good grief. Maybe the snakes’ venom had medicinal purposes?

My husband’s name said just right in Arabic means ‘shut up!’

“Hi! What is your name?"

“SHUT UP! And this is my wife…snake lady. We are your new neighbors!”