Dinner Conversation

Dad, what does sexy mean?

Visually stimulating in such a way as to elicit a positive visceral physical response.

Mom, what does sexy mean?

New Normal

Family dynamics have been, um, quirky since my return from Pakistan.  A work colleague the other day invited me to bear in mind that it takes two months to recover from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.  It had not even occurred to me to consider my family's psychology in that light.  But it is probably at least a little bit accurate, not so much for me but for the kids.

Last week I was doing something on the computer and Henry approached me and quite unprompted said, "Dad, I hated you when you were in Pakistan but now I don't hate you anymore."

And they have all had their moments (weeks) of regressive behavior.  Add in moving to Egypt and not having any of our stuff (our fingers our crossed for delivery this week....please) and it's a stressful time.

But I think things are calming down.  For the first several days here, Henry would exclaim in genuine surprise, "Daddy, you came back!" when I returned from work.  "I always come back, buddy."

Yesterday, he made no such declaration.  Still an enthusiastic hug, for which I was grateful, but no surprise at my return, for which I was also grateful.

I think this helped the adjustment:

Who could resist a bouncy house birthday?

The Situation in Maadi

This was the first week we were able to arrive at church without spending 15 minutes lost with a non-English-speaking taxi driver.  So progress there.  We have now mastered three words in Arabic: shemel (left), yameen (right), and alatool (straight).  Add a few numbers and we're all set.

We went to Luciano's this morning for family haircuts.  Quintessential Egypt.  We stepped off the sand-filled littered street and descended broken stone steps to a beautiful wooden door lined with gold.  Inside, a barber shop straight from The Country Club.  It was visually luxurious, all dark wood and gold with black leather seats.

The barbers, all toothless, wore handsome red jackets and there was, what to call him, an apprentice, I guess, who wore a yellow jacket and moved about brushing hair from noses, fetching scissors, holding mirrors, etc.

They were great with the kids, both in handling their weird fear of haircuts, and with the actual hair cuts.  They look great.  With me, they made the classic blunder.  I do not have normal hair.  Thinning shears must not touch my hair or I will look ridiculous for a month until everything can grow back.  Before I warned and before I noticed, my do was thinned.  It will now require a pint of tar every day to prevent my hair from standing straight up.

Then we headed to the "shopping district" to explore.  It was 100+ degrees.  We didn't really know where we were going and somehow we had not paid attention to the footwear the kids had shod before departure.  They were all in flip flops as we trekked the rolling hills of garbage and broken glass that are the sidewalks of Maadi.  Fail.

Before the day was over, however, we located a movie theatre and thoroughly enjoyed Madagascar 3. Alex and Marty redeemed the day.  You might say it was crack-a-lackin.

Pyramids and Other Pics

Cairo Time

The house is big, at least by the standards of the places we have lived so far: five bedrooms, four bathrooms.  Our stuff hasn't arrived yet so we are living with the so-called "welcome kit" which is much better than nothing but somewhat incomplete.  Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, three pillows and two towels.

Maadi is south of Cairo and has trees.  It also has rabid dogs.  Sometimes city officials deal with the dogs by placing strychnine-laced meat in the streets.

We have a few cockroach friends.  Well, you know, the kind of friends you swat with a shoe.  (Friends?  Friends slow down.  Friends stop. [Just move on if you didn't catch that]).  Unrinsed dishes left in the sink overnight will bring ant friends.  These are not ants I am familiar with from the United States.  These are pyramid ants.  And they're mad.  I can't really defend the statement that they are mad, I just assume that being big, and an ant, and in my kitchen sink means you're mad.

We hired help.  Freed from cooking and cleaning obligations, adjusting to overseas life is a breeze.  Also, while we're waiting for our car to arrive, we've hired essentially a chauffeur service to drive us everywhere, which feels kind of better than having a car to me but I think it is driving Katie a little bonkers.

The kids go off to the Maadi House to swim most days.  This club for diplomats (I get lumped in with this group even though I hardly consider myself diplomatic) has a nice pool, tennis courts, super cheesy pizza, and a giant bouncy house slide thing.  Unfortunately, they just started summer camps there.  Our kids are not in the camp and thus cannot enter until camp is over.  Next week, the kids start their camp at Cairo American College, so take that Maadi House. 

The Journey

The brilliant travel agent gave us 33 minutes to get off the plane in Salt Lake with three kids, four carry on bags, five backpacks and three pillow pets and transfer to the flight to Paris. So we were trying to go double time. We made it and all the kids did their share pretty well.

The first real glitch of the trip was the revelation once on board the international flight that there were no TV screens. I especially enjoyed Katie's exchange with a stewardess:

There are no TVs?

No, ma'am.

Seriously?

Um, yes ma'am. Seriously.

For a twelve hour flight with three kids, you're telling me there are no TV screens?

Um, yes ma'am.

Anyway, I've never been so grateful for the legacy of Steve Jobs. IPods to the rescue. And Benadryl may have been involved somewhere along the way.

Then we arrived in Paris. Turns out it's charming. Who knew?

We just walked around a little and did double decker bus tour from Notre Dame through Champs Élysées and then past the Invalides. Maddie and Caleb mostly enjoyed pretending they were launching missiles from the top of the bus.

Then we slept for a long time and went to the airport.