Fear and Destruction

A few nights ago when I was watching the news with Jonathan, I imagined what I would do if I were in Japan when the tsunami hit. What would I do if I happened to be walking outside with my children and a massive wave hit, taking everything out with it, never to return? My eyes glaze over as I imagine the feeling of the wet air on my face, the wind whipping my jacket back and forth, and the sound of the speeding wind making it impossible for me to talk to my children. I hold my youngest in my arms and hold my second youngest's hand. I encourage all of them to walk faster so we can get out of this wind before disaster strikes. Then we see the humungous wave coming, so fast that there's no way that we could possibly escape. But time slows. It stops almost as my eyes dart from one child to another thinking what to do. Keep the baby and keep the hand I have. Scream in the other two's ears to hold on to eachother as tight as they could. What else could a mother do? Knowing that none of us could possibly survive being whipped around in that water, under and down and around. For who knows how long? Our bodies being slammed into underwater structures and big things that have already come loose in the disaster. There's no way! Jonathan said, "There's a chance in a million that anyone could survive being in the water."
The worst part about it all would be trying to make my children's last moments on earth not so fearful. The fear. The pain. The unknown. Being alone. A mother's hope that their child's suffering would be minimal.
Then there are those who have survived. Survived but have nothing material left. Or perhaps not even a family member left alive. What must their thoughts be?
I'm so grateful for the safety I've enjoyed and that I do enjoy every day. Someday perhaps I will be right in the middle of a natural disaster. Will I be prepared? Where will my children be? I hope that I can comfort someone in a time like that even if it isn't my own child. I hope someone else will do the same for mine.

Expect the unexpected. . .

From the adventures of bunsy and her tumbleweeds

This is how I felt yesterday and every so often throughout everyday.

is a really dumb title. Really what this post is about is almost all negative complaints so don't read it if you don't want to hear it. I really just need some ventilation. When we accepted this job offer we already knew there would be some drawbacks to it.

• We knew it would be really hot and dusty in the summer months when we first arrived.


• We knew we would have to go through the paperwork process which could be a real hassle.


• We knew we wouldn't be able to delve into the Qatari culture like we had the Turkish.

But the money that was offered far outweighed the hassle these scanty drawbacks would occasion. And we knew we wouldn't have to maneuver the strange, wacky, and dishonest Turkish system anymore. But since we've arrived the drawbacks have increased, though not enough to make me pack our bags and tell Jonathan that I'm leaving.

• First of all, we didn't know I'd be pregnant when we accepted the offer. I'm not concerned about having the baby here, I'm just concerned about the amount of chocolate I'm consuming as I sit here in the apartment all day on my butt. That could have some real heavy consequenses.




• We found out after arrival that we would be licenseless until Jonathan got his Residence Permit, which takes a month to get.




• Then after he finally got is Residence Permit he had to go to the drivers test center a few times with no results either because of wrong hours, misinformation, or because his immigration specialist didn't speak Arabic (which we though wasn't necessary in this country.) Eventually he got his license but he had to go to an appointment at 4 in the morning to get it. Crazy huh!




• I'm still licenseless and Residence Permitless and we've been here over a month now. I made a few fruitless trips down to the documentation buildings myself.




• We were told that we would have access to a swimming pool. We did but had to arrange for transportation to get there. How does this happen if you don't have a car? We would have to arrange for a taxi the day before hoping they weren't booked all day. But now the pool is closed for maintenance for the next month and the pool in our compound is not finished, although it was promised for September. As far as I'm concerned, it's September 3rd. Am I right?

I had understood that the kids school would start on September 6th and that gave me hope. At least they would have a little variety during the week and I wouldn't have to rip my hair out thinking of things to do for them. But yesterday we found out that school starts on the 27th. Great. So yesterday sucked. I'm really mad about the unfinished pool. When I was debating whether or not to stay in the states for an extra month or come here with Jonathan, I chose to come with him on the basis that we'd have a pool close by. I'm really mad and really emotional too. I wish they would just tell the truth. Now an "I don't know when it will be finished," is a heck of a lot more believable than "It's scheduled to be done in September." Sometimes I miss America for that sole reason. People meet deadlines. If people don't meet deadlines there is usually a reimbursement of some sort or at least a warning in advance that whatever was promised isn't going to happen anymore.

However, I must realize that this is really the calm before the storm for our family. Our somewhat quiet days here at home (except for the frequent screams and fights) will probably never happen again. Ever. I will never be carless again. I will never come back to Doha too many days before school starts. And I will hopefully never have just three kids again. Life will change soon and I guess I shouldn't rush it.

Meanwhile, Atticus helped me clean all the mirrors in the house and actually asked to do his Math lesson today. Sherman put a puzzle together all by himself and made his bed today. Cinci can eat his cereal by himself now. I know, he's two and a half, but for some reason, he is soooooooooooooo babyish. I wonder if I will ever be able to potty train him.

Gosh, I am so self absorbed right now. I have got to read something worthwhile. Does anyone read anything regularly on the internet that is :

• not a mommy blog
• thought provoking
• positive and perhaps even comical
• possibly educational

Looking for suggestions. Please help.

I'm famous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And not for a good reason either. I'd heard about this lady before, but today on the bus I saw a man reading a newspaper and one of the articles included my name "Christine McCallum". OK, well, it's not really my name. But by one letter it would be. I'm sort of embarrassed because my name is not that common, so I know that when people read about her they think "Oh, that's my sister's name, or that was one of my students years ago, I remember her" If you don't know what this lady did, you can read about it, but prepare to be disgusted. All you have to do is type in the name and you'll get all the info.

horrible WET day

Today was Sunday, which means attending church. It was also the Eurasian Marathon here in Istanbul. It rained, it poured, it showered, it drenched, etc. "Good thing I wasn't running in it" I chuckled to myself as I looked out my window this morning. However, what happened today was ten times worse than running 40 kilometers in the pouring rain. You must remember that complaining is still pretty high up there on my list of favorite things to do. Anyway, remembering last years marathon we stayed ahead of things by not even going to the bus stops to see if the busses were running. The bridge would be blocked off until 1 PM. So we walked in the pouring rain to the ferry boat port which took us 30 minutes. Looking back, I realize that was a very stupid move because I ended up very disappointed with myself for yelling at my kids more than a dozen times to get out of the puddles of water. We should have forked over the 5 or 6 lira for a taxi to the port. At least I would have been able to tell myself that I still resembled a kind and loving mother.
I can tell this post will be very long if I include everything. So to make it a little shorter I'll just include the concise version. Got off the boat. Walked to the train station. It was blocked and therefore not working. We waded up a hill for 30 minutes. Susan and I got in a taxi with a grumpy driver with five children on our laps in the back seat. She lost 70 lira as we got out of the vehicle. Some of our children spent church half naked and barefoot. Church ended. We again waded to the bus station from church. We forded a river which was where the street was supposed to be. (If you are thinking about travelling to Istanbul, don't. Wait until spring.) We squeezed into the bus. No chairs available. Shermy fell asleep standing up. Got off the bus 45 minutes later. Got a taxi home. Cinci cried when we got out of the taxi. Finally stopped when he was naked and in the warm bathtub. Had a divine, warm meal made by me. Rice. Red lentil soup. Leftover simit. Water. Everyone ate heartily. Everyone was happy. Looking back on the day it didn't seem as bad as it really was. However, I remember distinctly telling myself as I was walking across the Galata bridge, "This experience is worse than anything I've ever experienced and if I try to tell myself different tonight, I will be severely mistaken." As I look back on the horrible experiences of my life, I could probably count them on one hand. If this is one of the most horrible, then I must really have it good. I've decided that for next years marathon, I'm either running it, or having church at my house.