Finding Our Way Together

We have been in Saudi Arabia for a month now, as a family, and are far from a comfortable routine. I've been busy with work and endless other appointments for permits, licenses, I.D.'s, etc. that only I can do as I'm the only legal driver here in our family (women are not allowed to drive). Nikki, on the other hand, has been a bit stir crazy, unable to do much or go anywhere as Maddy comes home every day from school for lunch, and there really isn't time to get anywhere and back on the bus to go shopping etc., during the 2-3 hours Maddy is at school. So, often we join each other at opposite emotional levels - me wanting some peace and quiet, and Nikki longing for an exciting trip somewhere.

Speaking of exciting trips, the driving here is incredible! Since our new location doesn't come with a crew car service, I've been driving myself to work. My rental car shows about 4000 kilometers in the "trip meter" now in the last 4 weeks, while I've been waiting to get the proper documentation to drive our newly purchased '91 Honda Accord. During that time I've had to learn a completely different way of driving. Now, half of my attention is in the mirror, as I struggle to stay alive. Typically I'm on a highway with about 2 or 3 lanes and it seems like no one goes the speed limit. They are either 20-40 kph slower or 50-100 kph faster. So if you are cruising along in the middle lane at the speed limit (120 kph - or about 75 mph) you will invariably come across a slow service truck or guy on his cell phone going 80 kph. You will slip into the outside lane to get around him, and maybe two or three others he's following. Before you can get back into the middle lane, you will suddenly realize someone has come out of nowhere, and is tailgating so close that their windshield fills up most of your back window. Either that or you are being passed on the left shoulder by someone going literally twice as fast as you, and your car rocks from side to side as they whiz by within inches of your side mirror. This is an every day occurrence.

Exit lanes are also used very ...efficiently. Just the other day I took the exit off of one highway and had stopped at the end to yield to traffic on the next road I was going to take. I decided I wouldn't cut anyone off so I politely wait for a comfortable space to merge into. While I was waiting I suddenly realized cars were coming around me on both sides perfectly content to turn my one-lane exit into a three lane mass merging free-for-all. I was a sitting duck. I decided to let go of all courtesy and force my way into the crowd, as I really had no alternative. It's a different world out here. I usually can't wait to get to work so I can strap myself in an airplane, get it in the air, and finally relax.

Routines are starting to develop, however. Nikki has been going to Maddy's school to help out for a few hours a day. She's also been able to do some circuit training and yoga, and even has some Arabic lessons lined up. Thursdays (equivalent to Saturday's in the U.S.) usually are family days when we can go to the swimming pool, or library, and then come home, take a quick snooze in the hammock out back before we settle down to a rigorous game of monopoly. Fridays we go to a small Christian church on the compound, and maybe hit up a delicious brunch at the diner. I think I'm going to try to rejoin my water polo group on Friday afternoons, but I'll have to see how everyone else is feeling about that. Gone are my regular workouts and uninterrupted reading, but the sacrifice is well worth it. Peace and quite are not worth loneliness and separation in my book. It's much better this way.

Home

As I write this I am on way from Seattle to Bahrain via Amsterdam, on my way back to work from my second leave. After Bahrain I will take a cab into Saudi Arabia and get to my little apartment at about 2 am. It’s different now flying to the other side of the world compared to the first time I went over there six months ago … and not just because I’m in coach instead of first class. It’s different because there aren’t many surprises this time. The field of the unknown is much smaller and so is the excitement. Maddy (my 5 year old daughter) is starting to see the pattern, and almost seems to be getting used to it. We sat in the kitchen today and hugged each other. She felt my chin hair and asked why I didn’t shave my beard this time. She is so perceptive. The last two times I left I had a clean-shaven face. I wonder if she now associates my clean face with me leaving. She touched my nose with hers and then put her cheek next to mine and said “Home Sweet Home”. I had explained this new term for her when I used it earlier in the day. I said that it just meant that home was pretty sweet to me, ...like Agave Nectar … and she said “in warm milk” … I said “with whipped cream on top” … and so on until we had completed the recipe to her latest passion she calls “hot milk”; something my wife has been making for her lately. I had tried to make it a few times, but would always mess up on a detail or two. “But mom always gives me a bit of whipped cream to put in my mouth before she puts it away”. “Oops,” I would say as I opened the fridge and pulled the whipped cream back out.

Part of what makes home, “home” is more than just a place. For many of us it’s routine. This is certainly true for Maddy. This routine was difficult to adjust to when I first got back. It took me about a week to get out of my independent “bachelor” mindset and blend in. We spent more time getting in each other’s way. Like the warm up session before a symphony, there was a lot of dissonance. It was a shame the concert itself wasn’t much longer than the tuning of the instruments.

We went on a few short trips while I was home, but what Maddy missed most was the routines. Once we forgot to bring a CD set that had “Charlotte’s Web” on it read by the author. This is what she listens to when she winds down to get ready for bed. She’s probably listened to it 50 times by now. Nothing else will do. It makes her feel at home, I think. (I wonder if this is where OCD comes from … some sort of desire to recreate the familiar … to bring back a sense of home.)

Technology has come so far now that I am able to talk endlessly with Nikki and Maddy and even look at them and catch all the subtle facial expressions that do much to enhance communication, while I’m at the opposite side of the world. But I can’t touch them. I won’t be surprised if even that will be somehow possible in the future in some sort of virtual way, but I will miss it now. I still smell Maddy’s drool from when I kissed her cheek goodbye as she slept in her car seat in front of the airport. Images come to mind from my brief 2 ½ weeks at home. I still remember seeing a flash of my own boyhood face in the rear view mirror when I watched her smile to herself while she looked out the car window in some sort of wistful, quiet, daydream. The feeling and smell will soon fade and I know I’ll miss it. The images will be different when I come back. She will be older then, and a bit more of the innocence will be gone...

I have never thought of myself a “homebody”. Since I’ve had such a nomadic life there is no place on this earth I can honestly call home. But I’m realizing there is something other than a place that calls me back to itself. The invaded personal space; the sparse time to myself; the constant interruptions; the month-old goldfish crackers in the car seat …it’s all home. And even though it always takes time to adjust to it, and it never is completely perfect, I miss it horribly right now … and I haven’t even been away from it for a day.