Holidays Round II: Beach holiday and Christmas

(Notice: we're not even pretending that we will do anything for New Year's Eve.)

We have two weeks off for Christmas and New Year's. Our first holiday excursion was to Emirates' Palace, one of two "seven-star hotels" in the world (Dubai has the other one). We wanted to see the world's most expensive Christmas tree, and at 11 million dollars, it's a doozie! What makes it so expensive is all the jewelry on it.

On our first week off, we drove five hours to the other coast, Fujairah on the Indian Ocean side of the UAE. We stayed at the Meridien resort hotel, which was very nice. Amenities included a children's pool and play area, which was especially nice for Anastasia. Of course, Anastasia also enjoyed the beach, dividing her time between water and sand. She clearly had a blast. Talula got her feet wet (and got a little sandy). We were there for four days, plenty of time to enjoy the warmth and sun (it was in the 80*s each day), the water, the sand, the service, and the food--especially a tasty breakfast buffet each morning, including pork bacon and pork sausage! A real treat when you live here. On our way back to Abu Dhabi, we swung through a small Omani enclave, mainly to take pictures at the top of a hill and so that Talula could technically make it to a foreign country, finally! It's a small enclave of Oman within the UAE; there is no border patrol or passports needed...but it is officially a part of Oman. They use both Omani and Emirati currency. Anyway, pictures of that are included above.

I won't go into details here, but if you're interested in the holiday poop story, let me know. This is Randy, by the way.

When we returned from Fujairah (I rented a car from the airport--only cost US $25 a day), we spent Christmas Eve recuperating from our trip (yes, we're at that stage where we need a vacation from our vacation), and Christmas Day, we opened presents. Talula received a necklace with her name in Arabic (similar to the one Anastasia has, but since Talula's name is shorter in Arabic, the necklace looks less "busy," probably a fitting metaphor for the two kids anyway), and Anastasia received a train set, among other items. She's been spending quite a bit of time with her "choo choo."

We enjoyed Christmas dinner with our Canadian friend Leanne (I made her American Thanksgiving dinner, so it was payback time for her), complete with Christmas crackers and those silly paper hats.

Boxing Day, we took Talula to get her shots. The doctor said she's doing well, although she IS a big baby. Talula weighs in at 6.4 kg (14 lbs), putting her in the 95th percentile for weight, and she is 60 cm (24 inches) tall, putting her in the 87th percentile for height.

We also sneaked Anastasia onto the scales: she's 12.5 kg (27.5 lbs) and is 92 cm (36 inches--three feet--a full yard!) tall. This puts her in the 37th percentile for weight and the 57th for height. Once again this seems backwards to me- she seems short compared to other kids we run into, but seems quite dense for her size. But what do we know?!

During our second week of our holiday, we aren't going far. Noy is coming in to look after the girls, and Christine is working on quilting whilst I mark papers and do a bit of reading, mostly at the coffee shop. This is our vacation from our vacation.

We sincerely hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas--and we wish ya'll all the best in the New Year!

This week: newspaper and zoo

Follow this link to read Randy's fourth publication in the Dubai-based newspaper. gulfnews : 10 reasons why school life beats adult life

In other news of the Emirates, one of the country's self-proclaimed 7-star hotels boasts an 11-million-dollar Christmas tree. Randy and I will go to see it tomorrow to get ourselves in the Christmas mood, sometimes a challenge in a Muslim, desert, far-from-home country. AFP: UAE hotel erects 11-million-dollar Christmas tree

Earlier this week, at the request of my students, Anastasia accompanied the girls' field trip to Al Ain Zoo. This was her third trip-a bit rushed- but she seemed to really enjoy the gorilla and giraffes. She repeatedly kissed the gorilla through the glass. If I bothered to go on any of my students' facebook sites, I've heard most of them now use Anastasia with themselves as their profile pic. She was definitely a hit- I had to occasionally settle disputes about who would get her next. All of the attention, along with a total of nearly 4 hours on a bus that day, left her quite tired. She actually slept in the next morning.

Holidays Round 1: Eid Al Adha, Thanksgiving and National Day

Eid Al Adha (2nd Eid) break was from 12-20 November. We stayed in Abu Dhabi doing very little, just trying to relax and enjoy some of the last perfect weather. (At the time of writing, we have started to dip into the 70s at night.) Randy and I frequented several coffee shops and enjoyed breakfast out a few times. The girls spent time at the local parks. Talula seemed quite relaxed in this photo- and we just wanted to show off how fat she is for all of you who are far away. It was hard to get photos of Anastasia during this outing because she enjoys chasing birds so much. She can clear most parks of wildlife in a minute or two.

Thanksgiving was spent being truly thankful that mom was well and appeared to be in the clear- no chemo needed. Thursday was a teaching day for Randy, but I was still on mat leave at that time so Anastasia and I spent the afternoon making pumpkin and apple pies. Canadian bestie Leanne made the pie crust dough; Anastasia and I rolled it out and we were also in charge of filling them. Anastasia took her job of keeping the dough floured quite seriously-Noy couldn't even get her to look up for the picture. When the school day ended, Randy made turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, Leanne brought over a salad and we feasted. The Sunday following Thanksgiving was my first day back at work. It was a busy week in 8th grade: labs, police CSI presentation, tests and then our school's National Day celebration.

During my last weekend of mat leave I was able to finish Anastasia's quilt. I was surprised how fast I was able to make it- it is simpler in some ways than Talula's (see post below) but I think I like it as much or more.

UAE's National Day celebrating 39 years is today, 2 December 2010. All of the roundabouts have been decorated with falcons, boats, horses, big bright 39's, and lots of other interesting shapes for the past few weeks. They leave them up throughout December so it's sort of like having Christmas lights up. (The malls have lights, Christmas trees, and go over the top just as much as US stores.) In addition to the street decorations, cars and people look pretty spectacular for the festivities as well. As you can see, our two UAE-born daughters were decked out. Anastasia is passed out in this photo- no nap before leads to missing fireworks, although Randy said the Emirates Palace had already turned on their lights. And of course car horns have been honking for hours already...

F1 Concerts and a Quilt

Sean Paul concert on the Corniche














Exhausted after night of running and dancing



















Eid Mubarak!

The Dhabi is gearing up (pun intended) for Formula One with a series of concerts. The really big ones are at the arena on neighborhing Yas Island (Prince, Guns N Roses, Linkin Park, Kanye West, Jonas Brothers, Nelly Furtado, etc), but our Corniche (a block and a half away, right on the Persian Gulf) has a few big nights of concerts too. It's called Beats on the Beach, and unlike the big stuff out on Yas Island, these concerts are all free.

A week ago, we were there for the Brazilian parade and a concert by a Colombian rock band. This weekend, the fun continues. Wednesday night, I (this is Randy) took Anastasia to the beach, and we enjoyed Kelly Rowland (of Destiny's Child fame) along with a really good Lebanese singer named Melissa (a nickname) and Clarita de Quiroz (part Filipino, part Spanish, part Irish, raised in Scotland--she's quite a mix, but her music was good--very talented at the piano). Anastasia danced and ran around the park; she had a great time. She has this one dance move where she squats and shakes her bootie...A few people videotaped her doing that...she had an audience! Probably on Youtube somewhere.

Thursday night, Christine and Talula joined Anastasia and me. We caught the end of a local ska band called Sh9? (yes, punctuation is part of their name), plus two Lebanese musicians (Rola Saad and Melheim Zein), UK soul/reggae/pop guru The Beat, and dancehall/reggae big name Sean Paul from Jamaica ("Shake that thing" and "Gimme the light" being two of his hits). We ended up spending time with a Syrian family who were enjoying the concert there. Anastasia and Talula are great ways to meet new people!

Last night, Anastasia and I returned to Beats on the Beach for just a short while. We saw Dubai's favorite rock band, Beat Antenna (made up of British expats) and British pop star Sophie Ellis-Bextor; both were good. Anastasia made friends with an Indian couple at first, and then a little later, she joined up with two couples from Iraq. They didn't speak much English, but they invited me to sit with them. They gave us juice and Anastasia ate all their popcorn. It was a fun night.

There's more tonight, including two big American names, Easy Star All Stars and Kelis (of "Milkshake" fame), but I don't think Anastasia needs to spend four late nights out in a row. Or, maybe I should say, I don't think I should spend four late nights out in a row.

We have time to recuperate, though. It's Eid! We don't have school this week (it's the second Eid holiday of the year--the first one celebrates the end of Ramadan, and this one is when Muslims perform the Hajj to Mekkah). This time around, we're not traveling anywhere. Just trying to relax, get a little work done, finish Christmas cards, etc...

Then we (well, not Christine; after Eid, she still has another week off for mat leave) have just a few weeks before Christmas break. Have I mentioned how nice it is to be in a country that gives you time off for Islamic AND Christian holidays? I guess we could get some Jewish time off as well if we lived in Israel.

Talula is doing all right...she gets fussy sometimes. It's hard to wake up, and it's hard to go to sleep. That seems to be her biggest fussy times...Anastasia still loves the baby...says "Baby" and "Sistah" a lot. She has tried to say Talula, but it comes out "Tee Ta."

During her mat leave, Christine has been spending lots of quality time with the girls, working on an online class "Differentiation and Assessment," and making a quilt for Talula. "Talula's Kaledioscope" (yes, quilts get names) is finished; next up is a charm quilt for Anastasia.

"Talula's Kaledioscope" (on top of a rug)














Anastasia petting Talula

The Halloween That Wasn't, Anastasia's New Smile, and a bit of Talula

Outfit trial run with dead zebra balloons

Halloween wasn't as organized this year at AISA, which worked out fine since Anastasia refused to wear her outfit! We tried the bellydancer costume that we bought in Istanbul last Christmas on her early to check for size; she was fine with it and we even left the shoes out so she could practice walking in them.

Less than a month later, she complained about the elastic on it and refused to even put it on all the way. She had grown a bit, but really! So I cut all the elastic and was going to rig it- but still a definite no from the intended wearer. Nevertheless, we have a few pictures in various states of dress.

We did have a very nice pumpkin carving at her Auntie Leanne's and a new couple in our building brought candy to her since we didn't go to them.

Playing with the pumpkins seeds

Cleaning out the pumpkin

Her preferred version

A Collage of Anastasia's New Smile. It's the "I'm cheesing" smile used because a) you're taking a picture, b)I'm trying to distract you with my smile while I'm being bad or c) I don't realize how silly I look- I think I'm being cute.


And last, but not least, Talula. These photos were taken as we tried to get her passport shot ready for the Embassy. BTW, she should have her very own US passport by November 7th and then we have to start working on her residency visa for the UAE.

Anastasia still adores her. We have to make sure she doesn't wake her from naps, or squeeze her too hard during hugs. I even use "seeing the baby" as a lure from the beach when it's time to go.

THE FEAR: ANASTASIA vs TALULA

After visiting a high school friend/Dad's employee and his wife with their new baby this past summer, we were pretty sure that Anastasia was going to be extremely jealous and have fits every time I focused my attention on Talula instead of her. We have been very pleasantly surprised to find that Anastasia is curious, sweet and mostly gentle with her. On average, Talula probably receives between 20-50 kisses on various locations atop of her little soft head each day. Anastasia checks on her while she is sleeping and likes to watch her "eating." (At first Anastasia had called this "kissing"- we corrected her right away.)

THE REALITY: ANASTASIA loves TALULA!

Slideshow of Talula's First Pictures

Talula Meunier Ball has arrived!

Anastasia received her sister with kisses and hair rubbing.


The completed Meunier Ball family.

The basic facts:

• Talula shares my oldest brother Rick's birthday- thus my mother and I both had our second child on the 12th of October
• Talula is nearly a pound and a half heavier and 10 cm longer than Anastasia was at her birth (we're hoping this extra mass will help counter the excessive loving she has been receiving)
• She arrived wearing an umbilical cord upon the end of a 9 hour delivery
• Thus far, she appears to be the opposite of Anastasia's initial screaming sleepless existence (Thank God/Allah!!)
• more photos to come as we get a chance to take them...

Talula Update on her Due Date

Once again, it seems I have a little girl inside me that doesn't want to come out.

I attended an all-day Al Corniche Hospital doctor visit (literally, arriving at 8:40am and leaving at 2:40 pm) on my first day of maternity leave. Needless to say, it didn't feel like much of a holiday, but I did find out a few things about what the next week should hold.

Birth doesn't appear eminent by any of the normal momma's body indicators. According to an ultrasound scan and CTG (cardio-toco-graph thingy that measure Talula's heartrate and movement), she is fine and well. We were able to get another surface scan of her face that has me anticipating a mini-Anastasia. Mini, meaning look-a-like. Definitely NOT size; Talula is already a pound and some heavier than Anastasia was at birth. And she has 8 more days of fattening up if she appears according to Anastasia's timeline!

Several more CTGs have been scheduled for next week, along with a tentative induction date: 14 October. Hopefully, Randy will be able to post some news and pictures before then!!

Summer Summary II

Final slideshow and Top 10 as our long summer comes to an end....



Top 10 of the Entire 2010 Summer (in no particular order):

1. The "Abu" fiasco at the Bomber's game (ask Randy for more details)

2. Grandpa Ball not sharing food with Anastasia in the beginning, but being won over by the end of the visit

3. Anastasia's pool times with Grandma French (especially with puddles), hotel at Daytona Beach, Grandpa Ball (beginning of the nude play--Anastasia only; Grandpa was dressed), at Holiday World, Christmas Lake Village, Aunt Janet's, the triple b-day party in Floyd Knobs and Grandma Meunier (with fish pond breaks)

4. the mini-Wittenberg reunion with Cheryl, Andrea and Kim (3/4 of us were pregnant!)

5. Anastasia's new words and sounds: "outside", "chips", "dog", "fish", "frog", numerous animals sounds, "yuck" and just at the end "cool"

6. Good food along the way: suppers, Old Harry's (but no French Onion soup :( ), Jalapenos, Shrimp Shack, steaks on the grill, corn and cantelope, etc straight from the garden, Tempel extravaganzas, Grandma Meunier's surprise breakfast

7. Signs of trouble to come: the "sandbox tantram" resulting in Anastasia ultimately flopping spread eagle so no one else could touch the sand, "baby in arms" meltdown at the hospital. Looking at baby OK, momma holding baby= unacceptable

8. Anastasia with her animals: Misty, Sanford Zoo, Fluffy, Oatland Island Refuge, Tiki, Lincoln Boyhood Farm...she continues her obsession with our four-legged friends (well, she likes two-legged, no-legged, eight legged ones too)

9. a mini Class of 91 Beaufort Academy reunion: Jason, Sheila, Elinor, Jim, Tola, and Randy (that's ALMOST half the class, right?)

10. Colorful photo shoots at Bok Tower Gardens, Daytona Beach, Old Sheldon Church, Hunting Island, fish ponds in Dale (always a race to get pictures before Anastasia breaks out into sweat)

AND OF COURSE, visiting our family and friends...

Summer Summary I

For now, enjoy a slideshow of our Florida and South Carolina visits. Maybe Randy will add some words later?

Anastasia's Second Birthday: Photo shoots I and II

Anastasia is already TWO. Here are a few pictures at some of our favorite places in FL and SC. (click on the picture to follow the link)

Anastasia: Year 2 Photo shoots

Summer plans, 2010

Here are the tentative plans for our summer travels:

FLORIDA FRIENDS AND FAMILY: We leave Dubai Sunday, 20 June, arriving in Atlanta 545 am Monday, 21 June. Arrive Tampa, Florida, Monday, 21 June, at 9:04 am(We have rented a car between Tampa and SAV/South Carolina. Our private beach getaway in Daytona Beach: Tuesday, 29 June through Thursday, 1 July. We would leave Winter Haven on Monday, 5 July.

BEAUFORT FRIENDS AND FAMILY: We will be in Beaufort from late Monday night, 6 July, through early Monday morning, 26 July. July 9-12 will include a college reunion weekend with some of Christine's besties.

INDIANA FRIENDS AND FAMILY: We Leave Savannah (SAV), Georgia, Monday, 26 July, flying through Atlanta, and arriving in Evansville, Indiana, at 1034 am Monday, 26 July (WE NEED SOMEONE TO PICK US UP HERE--no car rental planned for Indiana). We will be in Indiana from Monday, 26 July, through Wednesday, 25 August.Yes, we will be in Indiana for Christine's birthday (but just barely). [Becky, if you want to see us, feel free to visit us anywhere...Um, in-laws, here's the part where you chime in with, YES YES...FEEL FREE...(I am shameless, aren't I?] Leave Evansville at 1130 am, Wednesday, 25 August, flying through Cincinnati, Atlanta, and onward to Dubai.

ABU DHABI FRIENDS AND FAMILY: We arrive in Dubai, 750 pm Thursday, 26 August. We'll be flying Delta the whole way (and earning those Sky Miles!)

Hope to see you somewhere along the way!

Here's Anastasia with an early b-day gift. We wanted to let her enjoy it for a while before we left for the summer. So far, she mainly enjoys throwing everything out of it!

Spring break to Africa again: Ethiopia 2010

Ethiopia, April 2010

(Click on the link above to see an album of our most recent trip.)


Spring Break in Ethiopia
By
Randall D. Ball

For Anastasia’s second spring break, we took her back to Africa. The previous year, Christine and I dragged our then nine-month-old daughter to Tunisia. A year later, we were headed for Ethiopia, mainly to visit Misrak, our former nanny (and Anastasia’s first best friend, really) who had returned to Addis Ababa. Before we left our home in Abu Dhabi, a few of Misrak’s friends came over to give us a proper send-off and to have us deliver a few things to Misrak. Then we were on our way, first to Dubai for our direct, four-hour flight on Ethiopian Air, a very friendly, accommodating airline.

At the airport in Addis Ababa, we faced a long queue to get our visa, and yet another long queue through immigration. Fortunately, we had the power of the baby. Anastasia took us to the front of both lines, shaving off a very likely two long hours of waiting. We are not ashamed to use the baby to our advantage (if we had to, we could also have played the pregnant card—Christine was three months along at the time). We waited quite a while for our bag and stroller, but then we were on our way past customs and into Addis Ababa. I spotted her first, this young woman, all smiles, jumping the turnstiles to race toward us, showering us with flowers and grins and hugs. Reunited with Misrak, we felt that all was well, that we had done the right thing. We were in the cradle of civilization, the birthplace of coffee, the legendary origin of the Queen of Sheba, and the possible resting place of the Ark of the Convenant; we were home.

Misrak’s brother had accompanied her to the airport, and he assisted us with bags and led us to a taxi, where all five of us scrunched into the little cab and headed for the hotel. We were an unusual group coming out of the airport, and throughout the week Misrak faced questions and funny looks as she carried this little blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby. I joked with strangers that she was adopting Anastasia, that it was time for Ethiopians to start adopting little white babies for a change. Christine also faced questions from locals, most commonly, “Is that your baby?” Uh, duh!

The next day, Misrak came over shortly after breakfast, a routine that we would follow every day of our holiday in Addis Ababa. She did not have any plans, for us or for herself. She was simply open to whatever we were doing. We’d tell her where we wanted to go, and she’d make it happen. Misrak secured a taxi for us, and we all headed toward the center of town, to the National Museum, primarily to meet Lucy. Misrak was our most obvious reason for visiting Ethiopia, but for Christine, Lucy was the second reason. Lucy is a little older than Misrak; she’s three and a half million years old. Her bones were discovered thirty-five years ago in northeastern Ethiopia, and she was quickly recognized as the oldest, most complete biped hominid skeleton ever found. Lucy, or “Dingnesh” (“wonderful” in Amharic), as Ethiopians prefer to call her, is short, at three and a half feet, but otherwise, she seems fairly human. The display of Lucy at the museum is really just a cast; the real deal, according to a museum worker, was currently in the United States, presumably on a holiday of her own. Apparently, she’s usually locked away in the museum, away from people, but sometimes a girl has to have fun. I wonder if she required her own passport.

After lunch (pasta for Christine and a beef crepe for me) and a nap for Anastasia and Christine, Misrak returned to the hotel, and we walked to the nearby Addis Ababa Golf Club, a nice, serene location far enough from the main streets to make one feel they’re not in a polluted capital city of two and a half million. Anastasia played in a small playground there, meeting up with a few other little kids who took to her instantly; after all, she was something of an anomaly in Ethiopia. We had a mundane dinner (a half-hearted attempt at western food) at the golf club, and on the way back to the hotel, Anastasia started running full force down the street. A little boy commented that she was a good runner. I thought that was quite a compliment coming from an Ethiopian.

Our second full day in Ethiopia found us in another museum, this time the Ethnological Museum within the compound of Addis Ababa University and housed within a former palace. The museum’s ethnological theme follows childhood, adulthood, right on through death, leading us thus on a lifetime according to different tribes. The childhood displays include habits and customs of pregnancy and childbirth (including scarification of the mother’s stomach during pregnancy) along with various toys for children. There were some interesting folk tales with accompanying art as well. Adulthood showed various other customs and lifestyles, clothing, food, the occasional spear and mud-hut recreation, and the death exhibit featured some very colorful grave markers. Why limit your gravestone to a simple piece of granite when you can have lots of colors and lines instead? My favorite part of the museum was a book on a very specific subject for sale in the gift shop: Risky Sexual Behaviors of Migrant Tea Workers in Kenya. I thought it would have made a great coffee table book.

We had lunch at a little café in the museum. The menu was fairly extensive and sounded good; since we’re pretty well-traveled, we had the good sense to ask if they had everything on the menu. We were told yes, they have everything. When it was time to order, however, suddenly all they had was lasagna, cappuccino, and carrot cake. It was all good, though. After lunch we walked around the gardens of the university’s campus, giving Anastasia an opportunity to run around and hopefully wear her out so that she would nap in the afternoon.

Misrak decided that if we could handle private taxis in Addis Ababa, we could tolerate the packed but much cheaper but less direct mini vans or buses. At times, our fellow passengers were goats and chickens. Anastasia loved it. We’d take a mini bus to one busy intersection, get off, take another one to another popular location, and eventually make our way back to the hotel in that manner. A private taxi might cost seventy birr (about $6.00)—one hundred birr for “faranji” (foreigners) if Misrak weren’t with us; the mini vans cost around $1.

Our daily routine was pretty much set. After Anastasia’s nap back at the hotel, Misrak came over (a ten minute walk for her; we were fortunate to find a hotel in her neighborhood) and took us to the Addis Ababa Restaurant in the Piazza area. The restaurant specializes in traditional Ethiopian food, and we viewed it as a good sign that there weren’t any tourists around. The place seemed to be teeming with locals. A deejay played some Ethiopian pop and hip-hop music in one room; Anastasia danced to it in the middle of the room and had everyone smiling and clapping at the little white, blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby. Christine said she gets it from my side of the family: the desire for attention, to be on stage grabbing people’s attention. The dinner was almost edible. The coffee was rich and delicious, and the traditional injera bread (a flat, spongy bread stretched underneath the food) was good. But the beef was chewy and grisly, at times impossible to swallow. I told Christine that it was like celery; I was burning more calories just by chewing it.

Easter Sunday was a day of relaxation. We walked up the road to the Golf Club again, this time choosing better food: pizza and chicken salad. We ate lunch on the grass and let Anastasia and Misrak play while we enjoyed the sun. It was the warmest day yet (it had been rather cool and cloudy), not uncomfortable though. It was the warmth one feels at 8000 feet. That close to the sun, Christine and I definitely got a little burned. Misrak watched out for Anastasia, so she didn’t get a sunburn. We ate dinner at the hotel, and I made the mistake of ordering a cheeseburger without the cheese (“How about with an egg on it instead? No cheese today,” the waitress told me). The “special cheeseburger,” as she called it, left me feeling ill throughout the night, the one time I experienced any stomach distress at all in Africa.

Monday morning, after four night treks to the poor, unsuspecting toilet, I felt better, relieved that whatever it was had passed through my system quickly. Misrak met us early, and we took a mini bus to Mercado, the market district, to do a bit of shopping and tempt the pickpockets. The guide books—and Misrak—warned us about the pickpockets in Mercado, that if you’re going to lose your wallet in Ethiopia, it will be here. The only white people in the throngs of the crowd, we were an obvious bull’s eye. I sensed one guy following us through the market; I turned around, stared him down, and he decided to move on. Another time, at a busy intersection, I felt a tug at the little backpack I was wearing. Someone had unzipped the front zipper halfway. The would-be thief would have been disappointed; all that was in the backpack was water, two diapers, a baby bib, a toy giraffe and tiger figurine, and some baby wipes.

On our return to the hotel, right after disembarking the mini bus at a busy, make-shift bus “terminal” underneath an overpass, we had a close call. A mini van sideswiped Misrak, while she was carrying Anastasia. Misrak fell down, but I could tell by the way she was holding Anastasia that my daughter would be fine. Misrak hit the ground, her shoes flying off, but she held Anastasia protectively during the fall. Misrak jumped right up and showed way more concern for Anastasia than herself, but Anastasia was fine—just a little shaken up. A concerned crowd gathered, but we left pretty quickly. For all we know, the driver of the van may have been lynched by the assembled mob for nearly running over a woman and a baby. When we arrived at our hotel room ten minutes later, I grabbed my first-aid kit from my luggage, and Christine doctored up Misrak’s cuts—one on the elbow and one on the knee. Otherwise, she was all right. I asked her, “So, how often do you get run over by a bus?” She managed a polite laugh, but that was all.

That evening, Misrak picked us up and walked us to her family’s house, a small but cozy, comfortable home on the west side of town. We met her father and dined with him, Misrak’s older sister, and her brother (her mother died seventeen years ago). The food was delicious, and they (mainly Misrak’s sister) had prepared quite a feast. It was traditional food that far surpassed the quality of Saturday’s restaurant dinner. Afterwards, her brother put on some Ethiopian music, and Anastasia resumed her dance routines, much to everyone’s delight. Her neighbors came over to see us as well, with the woman of the neighboring house making fresh popcorn and even fresher coffee, an incredible end to an amazing evening. We still had two days left with Misrak, but that night was a reminder of how hard it would be to say goodbye.

Tuesday morning, we took a series of five or six (I lost count) mini buses out of town, to a mountain top in the Entoto Mountains north of the capital. Happy to be out of the city for a while, we relished the quiet mountain air and enjoyed the scenic view of Africa’s fourth-largest city from so high above. We visited the Entoto Maryam Church, an eight-sided, colorful building that was the site of Emperor Menelik’s coronation in 1882. Menelik was a highly-celebrated African leader who defeated the Italians and prevented their colonization of Ethiopia. His success continued as he modernized his country, founded the capital of Addis Ababa, and established railways to connect Ethiopia with the outside world. We also visited his palace, a simple place located literally a stone’s throw away from the church. There were many sheep grazing around the palace, so Anastasia enjoyed chasing them and petting a few willing—or tolerant—or slow—ones. Throwing caution to the wind, that night we ate at the hotel again, although this time I stayed away from the “special cheeseburger,” opting instead for tomato soup and a fried chicken cutlet. Both were good.

On our last full day in Ethiopia, Misrak again met us early, hoping I’m sure to get as much quality Anastasia time in as she could. She took Anastasia out, apparently to a park according to the pictures she showed us on her digital camera later. I assume they took a mini bus or taxi to get to this park, and she probably had many strange looks as she held Anastasia with no other white people in sight. Christine and I enjoyed our quiet, Anastasia-less morning, watching tv and reading, perfectly content that our daughter was probably safe unless Misrak were to get run over by another bus. A few hours later, hungry but not wanting to go too far and miss Misrak and Anastasia, we ate lunch at the hotel again. I had a four-dollar steak with mushroom sauce and rice; it was very tasty. Hotel prices are not particularly cheap in Ethiopia, but the food certainly is.

Misrak returned shortly after our lunch, Anastasia fast asleep in her arms. Both seemed very happy with one another. Our tour guide returned after Anastasia’s nap, and we went out in search of a few other gift items. A jewelry store nearby proved to be an excellent choice for some unique, hand-made but inexpensive necklaces. Then Misrak took us on another series of mini bus rides across town to a charming local restaurant for one last traditional Ethiopian meal. The injera was of course good, as was the chicken (although Misrak’s sister’s was even better), but the highlight was a chickpea sauce that complimented the injera excellently. All three of us took turns chasing after Anastasia, who was more interested in playing outside than in eating. We were a little early for the music this time, but several Ethiopian women were quick to hold her and play with her. Several people whipped out their cell phones to take her picture, a pretty common phenomenon when Anastasia travels outside Europe or North America.

Back at the hotel, Misrak gave us several gifts: Anastasia received a t-shirt with the Ethiopian alphabet and brightly-colored, stitched hat, and Christine and I each received traditional Ethiopian clothing. Then it was time to put Anastasia to bed and say our final goodbyes to Misrak. There were many tears as Misrak held Anastasia close, telling her, “See you when you’ve grown up, Mamo.” “Mamo” is Amharic for friend or buddy. We wished Misrak well, reassuring her that we’d try to see her again, but we all knew that this was more about closure than future promises. We walked her to the door, then out into the hallway, and finally to the elevator. We said bye one final time as the elevator door rather abruptly closed in our faces, bringing our relationship to our favorite Ethiopian to an end.

At the airport the next morning, the queues were much shorter, probably because it wasn’t a holiday weekend this time (a week earlier, it was nearly Easter weekend). Once we had checked our luggage and passed immigration and security, we looked for ways to spend the last of our Ethiopian birr (we had left most of it in a thank-you card for Misrak). One store had a mannequin that was Anastasia’s size (and color), and she couldn’t stop holding onto it. People were gathering around her, amused by her antics, which continued from store to store. A restaurant worker gave her a mushy mango, and Anastasia started kicking it up and down the airport hall, leading to yet more cell phone cameras being whipped out. At our departure gate, one woman told Christine that our little girl was very active. “I just want to pick her up and carry her in my arms like a baby goat,” she said. The flight home was uneventful, giving us time to reflect on the week and consider how great our former nanny was. Misrak will be truly missed, as we told her several times, especially when child number two comes along. We trust that Misrak would have been up to the challenge.

A Day at Global Village in Dubai Land (By Randy)

Friday afternoon, we headed with a small group of other teachers to Dubai, specifically to Dubai Land, which when completed will be the largest theme park in the world, way beyond anything Mickey Mouse could imagine even in Orlando. Right now, only parts of it are open, including Global Village, which is only open in the winter (our tourist season).

Global Village is like World Showcase at Epcot Center at Disney World. Different countries have different pavillions, where they sell crafts and goods and food from their home countries. There are also amusement park rides (including a few rollercoasters and a huge Ferris Wheel) and shows at various locations around the park. I saw an Indian group performing with their suki players, a Chinese dance team, and a local "bounce" group who did amazing things with a trampoline and a wall.

The countries represented are more likely to be ones in our neighborhood; thus, Anastasia and I went to Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Palestine, Syria, Lebanon, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Oman, Kuwait, Bahrain, Turkey, India, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Yemen, Thailand, the Philippines, China...plus Africa was represented as a whole (as well as a few separate countries: Egypt, Morocco, Senegal...). Europe had a small pavillion, and oddly enough, two European countries have their own pavillion as well: Czech Republic and Sweden.

Of course, Israel was NOT present. The UAE doesn't recognize Israel (we often see news stories from Israel in our paper; the location may read something like "Occupied Jerusalem").

I think Christine was a more dedicated shopper, spending more time in just a few places. During the times that I had Anastasia (we took turns, of course), we covered lots of ground.

According to Christine, who had baby duty at the time, Anastasia also had her first kiss: a Sudanese boy named Yaseem. He was perhaps a year or two older, and they were at a little playground at Global Village. He leaned over to her and pursed his lips for a kiss...she knows what to do! She delivered.

Then she followed him around for a while. Boy crazy at 18 months--I'm in trouble!

The ride (by small bus) to Dubai was pretty quick this afternoon. As we were leaving, though, our bus had to slam on the brakes and skid a bit when a motorcyclist ran a stop sign without noticing us at all. Then we had to dodge a car seat that was in the road between Abu Dhabi and Dubai. There are signs here that read, "BEWARE OF ROAD SURPRISES." I'm guessing a chair in the middle of the road were qualify as a road surprise.

The ride home was uneventful this evening---and Anastasia slept going both ways, much to our relief.

Check it out at www.globalvillage.ae

Movember comic at Randy's expense

AISA's first newspaper included a comic inspired by one of Randy's classes. For November, in a Kiwi/Aussie tradition, men competitively grew beards to raise money for prostate cancer. Everyone shaved for the first day, and then not again for the entire month. The comic above is from that first hairless day. (Beard cells instead of brain cells, get it?!)

Turkey for Christmas

Turkey, Dec 2009

Click on the Reason for the Season to see our pictures from Turkey (i.e the picture above)

Turkey for Christmas
By
Randall D. Ball

It felt like autumn when we landed in Istanbul mid-day on 20 December. My wife agreed that it was a welcome relief from the Abu Dhabi heat-and not nearly the bone-chilling cold that we had been expecting. A hotel representative met us at the airport and took us straight to our hotel, located in Sultanahmet, the traditional old town part of Istanbul, close to many of the city's most popular and historic sites. After an enjoyable afternoon stroll through some of Istanbul's old streets, we settled on dinner at a very literal hole-in-the-wall restaurant, where the manager showed us an extensive menu before telling us all he had was the grilled chicken. So grilled chicken it was-but maybe it wasn't, as it turned out. It tasted more like fish, but looked like the bad parts of an old, fatty chicken. Christine commented on all the cats in the area, an unexpected treat for Anastasia but hopefully NOT an unexpected treat on our dinner plates. We won't tell Anastasia about the feline kebabs.

The next morning, autumn had turned into winter, its bone-chilling cold making me miss the warmth of my Abu Dhabi home. Fortunately, breakfast was considerably better than our dinner of cat-fish-chicken from the previous night. Christine and I were especially fond of the cheeses and coffee, whereas Anastasia favored the yogurt, cold processed meats, and fruit juice. She's a really good eater.

Braving the bitter cold, which a severely-bundled Anastasia faced by alternating between shock and what appeared to be depression, we walked about fifteen minutes to the Blue Mosque. Anastasia bounced in her stroller, roared and growled at three or four dogs that were loitering at a little park outside the mosque. Fortunately, she was strapped in her stroller, or she would have fallen out in her excitement. She had had a similar exuberant experience with stray cats the day before. We take our daughter all the way to Turkey so that she can see and pet domesticated animals.

Reluctantly removing our shoes but thankful that the mosque inside was carpeted, we explored this beautiful monument, with its many domes and six minarets, taking our time before returning to the frozen tundra outside. We didn't last long before we entered a souvenir shop, where the owner admonished me about Anastasia's lack of winter wear while we thawed out in his store. She was already a baby burrito, but in his eyes that clearly wasn't enough. Once again returning to the cold, we stopped by a large fountain so that Anastasia could bounce and squeal and roar at a few more canines, and then we passed Aya Sofya (closed that day, a Monday) and entered the grounds of Topkapi Palace. The museum there was also closed on Mondays, so we started walking back to the hotel, stopping for lunch at another restaurant that apparently specialized in fish-flavored chicken. The lentil soup was good, however, as was the chocolate pudding, neither of which had any seafood-tainted taste.

After a two-hour-long respite at the hotel, which included Anastasia napping for some of that time-and thus Christine and I getting a brief opportunity to read uninterrupted and just relax (we were on holiday, after all), we again donned our winter shields and armor for a stroll around the Grand Bazaar, a huge marketplace of narrow, labyrinthine alleys and meandering pedestrian paths creating quite the shopper's maze. It is very easy to get lost in such a place, but it's also an exciting place in which to get lost: the throngs of an eclectic group of consumers and sellers, the smells and sounds of capitalism at work, the entertaining pantomime of bargaining for a deal in the different areas of the bazaar, separate areas for gold, carpets, handbags, leather, silverware, copperware, clothing, even belly-dancer costumes. We left empty-handed-that day, anyway.

On the way to the hotel, we made a detour to a little square nearby so that Anastasia could see her cats again. She pointed and roared and made what we think was an attempt at a meow, an incessant, growling meow, much like what one might expect from a rabid wombat. Dinner involved playing it safe; we ate in the hotel restaurant, which was an excellent choice. The restaurant was on the top floor, overlooking the city with a big, beautiful, romantically-lit multi-domed mosque across the street. We enjoyed our food with a bottle of Spanish wine, and nothing tasted like fish that shouldn't have. Anastasia had attention as well-from the waiter in the otherwise empty restaurant (in their defense, it was early for dinner-and it was the off-season). We were four-for-four, four meals in a row where the server, manager, or owner took Anastasia for a while during the meal, She loved the attention; one might say that was a ham in Turkey.

The next day started much the same: a wonderful breakfast, a humorous bundling and wrapping of the baby (and ourselves-but Anastasia's white, full-bodied fleece outfit made her look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man), and a cold but short walk outside. This time our destination was Aya Sofya, which one-ups the Blue Mosque in grandeur, thus explaining the rather steep price for admittance. Aya Sofya was originally constructed as a church in 537 AD, then converted into a mosque nearly a thousand years later, and finally declared a museum less than a hundred years ago. The church / mosque / museum is known for its many-mostly Christian-mosaics; there were many instances where an Islamic crescent moon had been painted over a cross, but the Christian symbol still bled through. Aya Sofya was an impressive building, offering a pleasant way to spend a morning.

Either we were getting accustomed to the cold or the day warmed a up a bit more than yesterday, but the afternoon walk felt nicer. Anastasia slept in her stroller, Christine munched on some roasted corn on the cob, and I kept spotting animals that Anastasia would have loved if she had been awake. Our day concluded with another good meal on the top of our hotel (enclosed, of course-there was no way we were eating outside as the temperatures started dropping again).

In the morning we joined a half-day tour that started in a colorful spice market where we were accosted by numerous touts selling Turkish delight, saffron, spices, watches, perfumes, and on and on, where Anastasia gleefully visited a pet shop with dogs , fish, and leeches (yes, leeches-but we didn't touch them any more than we'd pet the fish), and where Anastasia ran into a huge flock-an entire sea-of pigeons that rivaled Trafalgar Square when the city of London used to condone such activities as city-chicken feeding for the tourists. Our tour continued then with the main event, a cruise on the Bosphorus, that famed strait separating Europe from Asia and reminding everyone that Istanbul does indeed straddle two continents. We saw two magnificent suspension bridges, a beautiful palace, and many incredibly chic homes along the shores before returning to port near the Sea of Marmara. Unfortunately, we didn't make it for enough north along the Bosphorus to see the Black Sea.

The following day, we did see the Black Sea-from the air, once Turkish Airlines finally found a plane that could get off the ground. The chaos began as our hotel driver made a wrong turn and took us to the international, rather than domestic, terminal at Ataturk Airport. Rather than try to make a u-turn on the road leading to the airport, he tried cutting through the parking lot, which led us right back to the international terminal. In his defense, he did make up for his mistake by taking our bags an walking us through the wrong terminal and through the long connecting hall that eventually led to the domestic terminal. He even went through security with us and deposited us at the appropriate check-in counter.

After passing through a second security point, eating a little breakfast, and entertaining Anastasia at an empty gate, it was time to board the plane. However, there was no plane to board. Thirty minutes later, our flight was officially declared thirty minutes late, meaning in reality at least an hour's delay. About ninety minutes later, we finally boarded a plane. The air crew went through the motions, demanding that everyone buckle up, even though the doors weren't even shut yet. A half hour after that, we were ushered out of the airplane and back to the terminal, with explanations only in Turkish. A few hours later, we were finally on a plane, headed for Nevsehir in the Cappadocia region of central Turkey, in Anatolia.

We landed in Nevsehir nearly five hours late, and of course the hotel's driver had long left by then. Weighing our options, we decided on a taxi to neighboring Goreme, about twenty kilometers away. We began doubting ourselves, though, when we saw how quickly the meter flipped from the flagfall of three Turkish lira eight to sixty and upwards. Finally getting Christine's cell phone to work, we dialed the hotel's number, and on the second attempt, we got through and explained the situation. Soon, the hotel owner and our cab driver were in a heated debate, but ultimately it led to a "discount" for us and the cab fare cost only fifteen lira (about $ 10) more than the hotel driver would have charged. It was Christmas Eve, our "easy" flight to central Turkey from Istanbul had been a tedious airport dilemma, and it had just been a long day.

Anastasia immediately fell in love with Cemil, our hotel owner, a doting father of a one-year-old son. He gave Anastasia much attention, and she took to him right away. Cemil was warm and friendly, inviting us to tea where we met his wife, and later, his son, also named Cem (the way he pronounced it, the name sounded like "Jim"). That night, Anastasia and I let Christine sleep while we went out for dinner, a father-daughter Christmas Eve dinner, where the staff at the restaurant just down the road from our small hotel was also friendly, showering Anastasia with yet more affection. The day may have felt disastrous, but the night-that night anyway-had a way of settling things down. That's when all the lights in town went off ... and the wild dogs started howling in the empty streets. The power outage lasted only about ten minutes, and then I rushed Anastasia back to the hotel. Christine slept through it. But as I told her when Anastasia and I returned to the hotel, we were in the city we had planned on, the very same day that we had intended, and it only cost fifteen lira more than expected. We were where we were supposed to be.

Christmas Day, after breakfast at our hotel with Anastasia eating up further attention from Cemil, we walked from the valley of Goreme Village up a small mountain to explore Swords Valley and its "fairy chimneys" and other rock formations created when Mt. Erciyes erupted over a thousand years ago. Along the way, Anastasia encountered an especially enthusiastic fan, an elderly local woman who pinched her cheeks and then gave them a rather vigorous slap. Anastasia looked shocked but recovered quickly. A dog then accompanied us up the mountain as we explored the caves and rock towers formed from the ancient eruption. Anastasia of course was thrilled with our canine tour guide; I was just glad that he didn't try to lead us to a carpet shop or other hard-sell, souvenir-infested tourist trap. Afterwards, we had lunch overlooking Swords Valley. The temperatures had warmed up enough that we could eat outside, with Anastasia wandering between the tables in between bites of homemade bread, chicken in tomatoes and onions, and manti (Turkish ravioli in yogurt sauce).

We spent the afternoon (after Anastasia's nap) exploring the village of Goreme, wandering its streets before stopping at a coffee shop for hot drinks and some wonderful chocolate pudding. Christmas Day ended with the temperatures dropping again. We enjoyed a pleasant dinner at Goreme Restaurant (the town is pronounced "Go-rem-AY," thus sounding like we were dining at a gourmet restaurant), where we removed our shoes (Anastasia too!) And sat on cushions next to a very warm heater. Christine and Anastasia ate some meze consisting of more fresh, homemade bread with yogurt sauce, hummous, white cheese, and vine leaves, and I ate a sizzling skillet of beef and eggplant.

The day after Christmas, we joined a day tour and hoped that Anastasia would behave without causing the other tourists any headaches or delays. She was wonderful, becoming an attraction herself. She received a few gifts, including a paperweight that a Korean man in our group bought for her and a pretty necklace that a shop owner gave her. She gets lots of bling and swag.

Our first stop was a mountain-top spot to look over the town of Goreme and its surrounding national park; it was raining, so Christine, Anastasia, and I spent a bit more time in one of the stores up there than at the overlook. The rain stopped shortly afterward, much to our relief.

Our next stop was the underground city of Derinkuyu, a massive safe haven for at least ten thousand Byzantine Christians during the 6th and 7th centuries when the Persian and Arabic armies tried to eradicate Christians. With Christine carrying Anastasia, we ventured lower and lower into the many levels of the underground city, squeezing through some of the cave tunnels that were constructed to fit one person-slowly-at a time as a means of defense. The warning signs at the front entrance (Dangerous if you have high blood pressure or any heart condition) should not scare one away; there is a bit of descending and climbing in some tight spaces, but it's well-lit and is nothing like the uncomfortable Cu-chi Tunnels in Vietnam.

We then proceeded to Ilhara Valley and its deep canyon, where this time I carried Anastasia down into the canyon and Christine and I shared the load from there. We hiked five kilometers along a pleasant stream, occasionally climbing and moving sideways between rocks, but it was a scenic trek that culminated in a nice lunch of soup, more of that chicken and tomato and onion in a skillet, and a cheese pastry reminiscent of a quesadilla.

Our next stop was Selime Monastery, a series of cave homes built into a mountainside. Anastasia had great fun running downhill in the sand into one particular cave. She is turning into quite the traveler. At age one, she has been to four continents and nine countries, not counting layovers at airports. She loves new places and people, and she's hilarious to watch in a hotel room. She gets very excited exploring any new place, from a hotel room to an airport terminal to a mountain cave in Anatolia in Turkey. She is definitely a product of her parents.

From Selime our tour group made its way back to Goreme, stopping first at Pigeon Valley, a place where pigeons are bred for their droppings, which are "harvested" for fertilizer. Pigeon Valley was another good photo stop too, and of course across the street was an onyx-making factory and showroom, where we were given a tour followed by an opportunity to buy. We didn't. Dinner that night was a repeat of Christmas Eve, just Anastasia and me, same restaurant, but without the widespread power outage. Thus concluded the day after Christmas, Boxing Day.

The next day, I took Anastasia in the morning, returning to Swords Valley. She hiked up the mountain on her own two feet (with dear old dad holding her hand during the more perilous bits). We met up with Christine for a simple soup and sandwich lunch at an outdoor cafe; it was just warm enough, but we were still bundled up. In the afternoon, Christine took Anastasia shopping in the quaint stores along Goreme's main street while I sat, drank coffee, and wrote.

Cemil drove us to Urgup that evening for dinner and a show, featuring Whirling Dervishes followed by folk dancing and traditional music and concluding with the usual belly dancing. It was a good way to end our stay in Cappadocia.

The following morning, I took Anastasia for a walk (sometimes she's like a dog; she needs her walks), and we saw eleven hot air balloons soaring over the town. The previous morning, Christine had reported nine of them. It's an unusual sight and an almost eerie feeling to see the balloons overhead and watch them emerge from behind mountains like some alien spacecraft. After breakfast, Cemil drove us back to the airport, although he didn't really get a chance to say goodbye to Anastasia because she was asleep by the time we reached Nevsehir. This time, our flight was uneventful, and we landed safely and on time back in Istanbul early that afternoon, where we checked into our hotel and crashed.

In our last few days in Istanbul, our pace slowed down considerably, partly because Christine was feeling ill and partly because we were tired from all the vacationing. We needed a holiday from our holiday, and the four-star hotel I had found for us was just the place to relax. I took Anastasia around town a bit each day, though, to give Christine some recovery time. My daughter and I checked out the architecture at Istanbul University, played in a mosque courtyard in the Aksaray area of town, and annoyed a pet store owner by spending time in his business with no intention of buying anything.

All of us went to Fatih Mosque near our hotel on Wednesday, market day. There was a huge market outside the mosque, and we strolled past dozens and dozens of vendors selling clothing, stationery, textiles, everything. Then we explored the squares around the mosque with its numerous cats, which of course left Anastasia feeling overjoyed. I counted about thirty cats in one area alone.

On New Year's Eve, before catching an afternoon ride to the airport, we made one final stop: the two-thousand-year-old Aqueduct of Valens, an imposing limestone structure looming northwest of the Grand Bazaar. We lunched on kebabs of grilled chicken and yet more homemade bread at the base of the aqueduct and let Anastasia run around the park nearby.

Our late-afternoon ride to the airport was memorable. The driver took the coastal road along the Sea of Marmara, heading west into a beautiful red and purple sunset that lit up the sky and reflected off the water. We hardly noticed the heavy traffic as we marveled at nature's well-timed show, a picture-perfect ending to memorable trip, Turkey for Christmas.