Tiny Tots in a Tin Can

I have experienced traffic in Nairobi, Istanbul, and Casablanca, but traffic here takes crazy up a level.  As with many places in the world, pedestrians have no right of way.  You cross at your own risk.  Your own risk includes crossing often several lanes of traffic that rarely have any lull due to a lack of  traffic lights and a surplus of traffic circles.  Stop signs are pretty much ignored.  Why stop when you can just keep your regular speed and honk your horn as loud as you can through the intersection so everyone knows you there?  The rules of the road are taken lightly and speed limits are non-existent.  This all makes for very nervous parents as we stand at the edge of the road praying we will get an opportunity to cross with three little tag alongs.  It is a delicate balance of inching as close to the road as possible for a quick cross at any slight opportunity and of keeping the kids as far away from the road as possible so they don't slip off the curb and become a grill ornament while you are watching for a break in traffic.  We do this multiple times a day.  It. Is. Exhausting.  Not to mention manoeuvring the busy streets in the dry, dusty heat with an almost two year old strapped to your back.  Sweaty mess.

We also take taxis daily.  We have been fortunate enough to avoid the horror taxis we have heard of from friends.  Some told of attempting to roll down the window in the sweltering heat only to have the handle fall off, others have raced through the streets at breakneck speed all the while staring at the moving pavement through the rust hole in the floor.  No, we have not been guests in those taxis.  Yet.

However, we have come to realize that taking three young kids in a taxi is really no less stressful than trying to walk with them.  While Dave often sits in the front trying to direct a driver in a place he is somewhat unfamiliar with in a language that is equally unfamiliar, I sit in the back with the little ladies.  Once we get through the whining, crying, yelling and screaming about who is sitting where (all while jostling positions in an already quickly moving vehicle)  Ava repeats pretty much everything Dave says like a parrot while Izzy is faking grabbing the door handle at every opportunity, unaware that opening the door would send her flying onto the streets gaining her yet another opportunity to become a grill ornament.  I lock the door, she unlocks it.  When she finally gives up on that game, she insists on standing so that she is better able to hold onto the handle on the top of the roof.  A handle that is put there to assist with the constant speed- start/screech- stop/ no seat belt trio.  Meanwhile Eden is supposed to be sitting on my lap.  Well, any of you that know Eden know that she is not sitting on my lap.  She has learned the open-the-door trick from Izzy only she is not faking.  All her one-and-a-half year old brain sees is BUTTONS!!!  She tries them all and then she tries to climb out the back window, her head banging against it with every aforementioned screech- stop.  She is unconcerned with the impending concussions and begins to point out every cat and dog on the street, pointing and laughing and shouting "YAY" like we were on the best amusement park ride ever.  Then she tries her hand at working her way into the front seat to wrestle with her dad or she calms down on my lap enough to kick the seat of the driver, who is usually not really paying attention to the road but doing any two or three of the following simultaneously:  talking on the phone, texting, smoking, yelling out the window, playing with the radio, trying to teach Dave some Arabic, or turning around and staring at the kids for long periods of time.  Meanwhile any passengers in the vehicles surrounding us are usually pointing at our kids and smiling like we were in a cage at a zoo.  The girls don't mind though, they are like little zoo animals bouncing around in their little tin can loving every minute of the wild ride.  When the ride is done, Dave and I stumble out rather dazed while the girls bound out gleefully shouting "shokran (thank you), masalema (goodbye)."  We pay our equivalent of 50 cents to $2 and continue on our way.  And to think, in Canada I was holding out moving Ava into a booster seat because she was only 36 lbs!

Contentment

We move into our new apartment tomorrow, four weeks to the day after landing here.  We have loved spending time with our friends, but we are looking forward to having our own little space again.  The five of us have been living out of the same two suitcases for the last three months.  Our wardrobes will soon be expanded as will my time spent cooking.  Aside from school lunches I haven't had to prepare any meals  for over two months.  If you know me, you will know that I have not missed meal preparation!

Four weeks ago, we began our apartment search.  How many apartments did we see?  Twenty?  Thirty?  More??  We put offers on three other apartments before this one and all three were turned down for an offer of more money (the renting process here is much like the buying process back home - much negotiating).  We loved those apartments, particularly the last of the three.  It was a ground floor with a small backyard that was home to a tiny snatch of grass.  It had the bunk beds that so burdened Ava to say good-bye to in Canada.  It had a pink potty for little Izzy who was so hoping for a new house that was 'pink and sparkles'.  It was so us and yet it was not to be ours.  When we didn't get it my heart was sad and I was tired of looking.

Our new home is smaller than the others and not really our style, on the sixth floor with small balconies, it has no clothes dryer, no real bathtubs, no dish washer, an old, confusing washing machine and a cockroach infestation in the kitchen.  But, it is in a great location, is clean and everything seems to be in working condition.  It has three great bedrooms, one with two single beds a perfect size for Ava and Izzy.  It has purple and pink furniture and area rugs much to the girls' delight and ornate drapes between the rooms that hold the promise of many theatrical debuts.  The formal dining room table is much too big and ornate for our family and yet has the room to host many guests or, conversely, drape with sheets to make the most magical of forts.  The faux crystal chandeliers may seem gaudy to us, yet the girls were awed to have such beauty in THEIR house.

When we saw the apartment for the first time, it didn't make me want to do a happy dance.  To be completely honest, it just made me sad that we didn't get the other three we had put offers on.  Later in the day though, I thought about what we would have done if we had seen that apartment the first week we came.  We would have taken it without reservation.  It is in a great location and doesn't have any major flaws.  I realized that the longer we looked at apartments, the more we saw certain things that we wanted.  This one had a huge outdoor space, but was on the fifth floor with no elevator.  That one comes with a washer and dryer and a dishwasher, but has zero cupboard space and toilets that don't work.  The more we saw, the more I thought we could get one with all of the good and none of the bad.  In fact, the more we saw, the more I thought we deserved to have it all.  I did't like what I was seeing in myself.  We would have taken our apartment the first week and been happy.  Very happy.  How easy it is to become discontented, to always want more, to feel like we deserve better and then deserve even more the next week.

To most of the people we see day to day our apartment would be a palace.  Three bedrooms for five people!? The shop keepers on the very same road as our apartment building make approximately $50 a day.  The cost of living here is very similar to Canada.  These are the people that actually have shops and jobs and are not refugees.  There are street children that beg for money just outside the door to our building.  Perspective  can be very helpful.  So, I will embrace the refuge that is such a gift.  I will embrace the overly-ornate furniture, try to be joyful while washing dishes and try my hand at hanging our clothes for awhile.  This is, after all, the first time in our married life that we do not share a washing machine with anyone.  We can do laundry whenever we want!  And, I will depend on Christ for my contentment, joy and generosity.  Without Him I am sure to fail at all three!

Apartment Shopping

Yesterday while dropping Ava off at school a friend, Lee, suggested we visit a nearby apartment building as she had heard there was a three bedroom apartment coming up for rent.  Even though the building was rather run down we thought we would take a look as it was in a fantastic location between Ava's school and Izzy & Eden's preschool.  

Lee introduced us to Osama, the apartment guard, and translated a brief conversation for us. There was an apartment for rent but the people were still sleeping so we should come back in an hour.  An hour later we came back but Osama apologized, the renters were still sleeping.  So he told us to come back again in another hour. Of course, that is what we thought he meant as he only spoke Arabic and our understanding is rather limited.  An hour later we came back for the third time, again the renters were still sleeping so Osama and his wife prepared tea for us while Izzy and Eden ran around with Osama's two year old daughter Hanen.  Jenn bought some juice boxes for the girls to share and it must have been the first time Hanen had seen a juice box as she drank very little and was much happier to spray it on herself and rub it around her face and spray some on her hands to rub it all over her baby brother's head.  After tea Osama apologized that the renters were still sleeping and we should come back in another hour.

After picking up Ava from school we headed over to Osama's apartment for the fourth time ... and again Osama said the renters were still sleeping but we should stay for tea as it would only be another ten minutes or so.  By this time we were starting to wonder if we would ever see the place.  I was still optimistic that we would so Ava and I stayed behind while everyone else headed home.  After two more cups of tea when Osama and I had completely exhausted our limited ability to communicate I again asked, 'How much longer?'  To which he assured me, no problem, only ten more minutes. By this time I figured it was time to pull the plug and started to leave.  I thanked Osama profusely for the tea and tried to kindly turn down his invitation to wait only a few more minutes. I only made it about half a block before Osama came running up, 'Okay okay, we go see the apartment now.'

As we finally walked into the apartment I realized why Osama had kept postponing our visit ... the renters weren't sleeping, they were cleaning!  At least three ladies were on their hands and knees cleaning every nook and cranny while several men and children watched tv in the corner.  While they were incredibly friendly and apologetic I can only imagine what the apartment would have looked like had we seen it six hours earlier. Alberta Health would not have been impressed.  I thanked them and Osama profusely but needless to say our apartment search is still ongoing.

While the apartment was a flop it was a fantastic day learning the culture, a little Arabic and just sitting around drinking lots of tea!