Spanish Art

One thing you can't help but notice when you are in Spain is their style. Some countries have it and others don't. Spain invented style in my books. I love their eclectic use of color and lines. Zara Home and Desigual just happen to be my favorite stores. Spanish style is sensual and unique. I can't get enough of the bold colors and unconventional designs. It resonates with me.

The first morning in Barcelona, Axel and I headed to the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. The building alone was so aesthetically pleasing and even the ceilings were intricate and bright:

We would spend several minutes just staring at one painting examining the theme, color, and texture. We discussed the feelings each painting evoked and our discussions were lively and exciting. The act of appreciating art is novel for us right now. We are deprived in the middle east. Very, very deprived.

Axel and I didn't always agree about what made a painting beautiful. The two paintings below divided us. He loved the one on the left, and I loved, loved, loved the one on the right. I can't get over those clouds. I'm right, he's wrong.

A Coco Chanel dress that just happened to be at the museum. Oh, if I only had a red carpet event to attend...

The colors (above) and the lighting (below) make me happy.

I love me some lithographs.

The Romanesque exhibit was the largest exhibit at the MNAC. A must for a country where the Roman Catholic religion is the majority. It all looks the same to me and most of it lacks feeling. The only one that spoke to me was this one:

A Dali. No melty clocks, just stinky feet.

Barcelona has some amazing collections. How could it not when Picasso, Dali, Miro, and Gaudi all call Spain home? We acutally had a lot of fun visiting the Miro museum. Imagine being so good that you have a huge, white building devoted to your work? Impressive. Not as impressive as his art, but impressive.

One of his first paintings

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I just love how this painting coordinates with my necklace. Nothing more

This rug was over 25 feet tall. It took the shag carpet to a whole new level.

Miro is big on Phallic symbols. It was hard not to notice all the reproductive parts in his paintings. Every piece had at least one. It was like a 'Where's Waldo' picture.

Again: Necklace + Miro painting = very cool

He made this painting to solely compliment my wardrobe

It was a little depressing leaving Barcelona knowing that we would be going back to the cultural and artistic drought that is Doha. Although it exists, it is rare and selective. Spain whet our appetite for better things to come. Drown me in culture, splash we with color and inspire me with emotion. Life is too short to miss it.

Beirut in 5 Hours

One of the iconic scenes from the coast of Beirut

This is Axel. I get to write the first stage of our trip to Barcelona. En route to Spain we stopped in Beirut. We have been anxious to get to Lebanon but every time we started the planning, a war broke out or something happened to destabilize the region.

Our trip to Barcelona had the added benefit of having an option to have a leg stop over in Lebanon which we jumped on. Finally we were going.

The sight Hariri was killed in a car bomb

Lebanon is one of the most unique countries we have been to. Beautiful but unsettled. Historic, but uncertain of the future. Unified in the love the of the land, but cautious in the love of your neighbor. In the five years we have been in the gulf becoming friends with so many people from Lebanon, coming there finally gave us a bit (a very small bit) of an understanding of why the Lebanese people are so resilient. Honestly it reminded us of feelings we felt about Croatia. Both the country and the people.

The Lebanese never seem to give up. I think the whole city has been destroyed so many times, that rebuilding comes natural to them. We were picked up from the airport by my 'brother from another mother' Michel Abboud. Michel and I have been friends for years from Alico and even though he is now working for another company, we have remained very good friends. There are a few people I know I will be friends with until I die. Michel is one of them.

A few years ago these streets were bombed out and you would have been killed standing where we are

Michel and his wife Donna and their new baby girl Claudette met us at the airport and waited for us to get through customs. They then drove us through the dangerous part of town to the downtown area. It was beautiful. I honestly think somehow the Phoenix should be the national bird for Beirut. It has risen from the ashes so many times only to be prettier and more modern than probably any other city on the planet.
One of the coolest parts was seeing the martyr's square. This monument to Lebanese martyrs from all sides was riddled with bullet holes. It was right in the middle of the two territories during the fighting. The story goes that during the war there were certain times the two sides met there for coffee and jokes, only to go back to their respective sides and take up the killing. A fitting place for a peaceful break.
The downtown area is also a testament to the different religions in the city. You had churches a stones through from mosques and everyone seemed very proud of each other's buildings even though they were not from that religion. I have to admit the mosque in downtown Beirut was one of the prettiest I have ever seen. Classic and modern at the same time.

The hand carved door on the mosque. Me wishing I had time to carve a piece of artwork this beautiful.

Honestly I forgot which church this one was. I think (think) it is the Armenian Orthodox church. Whichever it was, it was totally beautiful too.
The inside of the St. George's Church. Again I think this is Catholic (though the artwork kind of looked Orthodox), but don't hold me to that. Incredible artwork inside. Both newer and classically preserved ones. It had a great feeling in it.

Michel and his wife took us on a 4 hour whirlwind tour of the major sites. None would be complete without the main square. Awesome shops, great restaurants and ministry buildings give testimony to the resilience and determination of these great people.

Terah in front of a ministry building.

A large mosaic of St George that made it through all the fighting. It was prominently displaced and very cool. I am painting one now and I think I am going to redo it to look more like this.

Me and Terah wishing that this country was in our future for a place to live...

It was an amazing few hours. We got the smallest of tastes of a country and people we have grown to admire and love since living in the Gulf. Having Michel show us around made it all the better. He and his wife are adoring parents and Claudette is one of the cutest and best behaved babies we have seen. We told them that when you have kids this beautiful and well behaved you have to have more. It is a rule. I miss not being able to call him up to bounce ideas off of him. I miss him calling me for advice and mostly us having a company in common. But the trip was all the better because it reaffirmed that our friendship was one we would keep for many, many years to come. Being in Beirut was simply a bonus.

Baldies

A month ago Asa and Dona got a hold of the hair clippers. This is their fine work:

There goes another 2 more years before I will ever see Dona in pigtails.

I smile. I laugh. I cry.

The Miracle that is Sarita

I really should be writing about our recent trip to Beirut, Spain, Andorra, and Damascus but I am experiencing something far more pressing--Sarita is leaving.

Sigh.

Breathe.

Ehem.

Resume.

Her ensuing absence is the reason for our quick excursion because I trust no one other than her with all of my children. It was our last hurrah.

Sarita has been a gem for our family. She is, arguably, my bestest friend. After spending almost 3 years of my life with her every single day how could she not? She has seen me on my good days, and on my bad. And somehow, she still loves me. That's unconditional love right there. Amazing.

When Sarita arrived at our home in Nepal she sat hunched over and barely spoke a word. She only arrived in Kathmandu weeks before after working in Kuwait for 5 years. She was on her vacation (only offered to maids in the ME every two years). She was too far from her village, so she stayed with her sister until it was time for her to return to Kuwait. Her sister wanted her to live closer and had heard of an American family looking for a nanny. Hence the reason why she sat on my couch that day.

As I looked at Sarita I wondered, could I handle having someone who doesn't speak a lick of English in my home? Could I handle staring at that horribly long hair (it was down to her butt, and she had no intentions of cutting it)? Could she handle our Type A personality family with her soft spoken nature? It was a gamble--a big one--but I was going to take a chance.

For months, she said nothing. She simply wanted to play with my children and took a special fondness to Asa. She spent every chance she could walking with him and strolling him around outside. I knew she had a good heart, but I wondered if we would ever be able to communicate.

Over time, after bits and pieces of her broken English, I find out she worked for a polygamist family in Kuwait, who had 10 children. She cared for the mother (a 400 pound woman who required a daily rub down on her body because of the many boils on her skin) and an ailing baby. She wore an abaya the entire time and was never really allowed out of the home. Strangely, to this day, she speaks fondly of the experience and smiles when talking about the baby she helped nurture. Her ability to see silver linings is amazing.

My love for Sarita grew as I began to understand her heart. She has an incredible calmness about her and is probably one of the most emotionally stable people I know. Her ability to love anyone is undoubtedly her greatest quality. In seeing this, I started to believe that she was meant for greater things. With that kind of patience and love, anything is possible.

We were determined to bring Sarita to Qatar. It wasn't easy, but by that point she was my rock. She was also my soundboard and I respected her thoughts and opinions. She also worked very hard and was fluent in English. She had the desire to learn and could say just about anything she wanted.

I started seeing a Sarita that had more potential and more abilities than the average nanny. I knew she was destined to be more than what she was. Throughout the months she lived in Doha, she began asking us about our church. I didn't want to push anything and therefore, was hands off. It wasn't until she asked about the BofM that I realized I wasn't playing a role in anything, she was going to do what she wanted. Every night she wanted to discuss philosophical things. She started asking so many questions and all we could do is simply answer them.

Around that time, Brad came along. She wanted to 'date' and understand boys a little more. This was huge for a Nepali girl. Most, if not all, Nepali girls are expected to have an arranged marriage and most don't even talk to boys until only a few weeks or days before their wedding. When we lived in Nepal Sarita barely spoke to Brad (despite his many efforts) because she was too shy. However, this trip she opened up. She was ready to understand more about men and what they thought. After he left she was devastated, but what she gained from the experience was life changing.

The new Sarita was growing everyday and as she was doing so, we decided to put her in a driving school. Why the hell not? She worked so hard for us every single day. It was one way for us to empower her. The confidence in herself grew and grew. She was budding before our very eyes. Many people scoffed and judgments were made, 'No maid should learn how to drive'. Honestly, at times, it seems like it is the 1930s here.

Over a short span of time Sarita changed dramatically. She was baptized, got her driver's license (no small feat in Qatar, especially for a Nepali woman), and found a man. Miraculous. Truly.

Sarita is leaving us this week to prepare for her wedding. I am trying to contain my sadness but I am not doing a very good job. I am devastated, but I completely understand that she is moving on to bigger, and much better things. She is better now than when I first met her. I know I didn't play a large role in the whole process, but I was lucky enough to witness it all. It is magic when good things happen to good people.

Our lives will change dramatically when she leaves. Asa will not take it very well when he asks 'where is my Sarita?' and she won't be there to answer. She says she woke last night crying because she will miss him so. It is a special bond, and I am saddened to watch it come to an end. No child can be loved by too many people.

In only a few weeks we will all be heading back to Nepal for her wedding. It should be a joyous occasion for us all. I am convinced that Sarita will always be in my life and from what she has done with her life within the short 3 years, I can't wait to see what her future will bring.

Love you, Sarita.

Sedona Begins School

When Heavah and Xavier were young I counted down the days before they began school. It seemed like the day would never come. They were ready and so was I.

In contrast, as Sedona turned 4 I felt anxious and sad that she was only months away from starting preschool. What was I going to do without her? She was nonstop entertainment for her younger brother and I thoroughly enjoy her company. Dona requires so little and gives so much. How was I going to let her go?

I prolonged Sedona's entry into school by putting her on a waiting list. The wait didn't last that long. Two months after the official first day of school, I received a phone call that Sedona's spot was ready. Ugh. Really? But she is my fun kid. She doesn't color on the walls or throw tantrums. Those kind of kids should never have to go to school. They should stay home forever and ever.

Even though I wasn't ready, Sedona was. She could not wait to join the social circle and play on the playground. She shed no tears. That's what I get for raising independent children.

Fortunately, I have a little guy at home to make me feel like an active mom during the day. He does a great job of reminding me that I am still very, very needed. Is it odd to have a 8 month long potty training session? Geez, louise. We go through our day just fine, but I can't quite play ponies or lego like Dona does. Honestly, no one does anything like Dona does.

Returning Home

Visiting my home. Not much has changed except it is missing my children riding their bikes and our 100 chickens.

Axel's Zen garden today.

Nepal took me by surprise this time. I never thought it would be such an emotional ride. While waiting for my friends to arrive from the Everest flight, I found myself welling up thinking about my life there and all the memories that I cherish. My driver joined me in the cryfest as he thought about Sedona coming outside every morning calling for her 'dai, dai'. We sat reminiscing of all the fun memories we shared together. It was unexpected and bittersweet.

Afton with Kumari girls

I have never been so connected to a physical place like Nepal. It spoke to me the minute I first arrived off the plane and I have never been the same since. I have told Axel that if I die, I would like to be cremated (however NOT in Pashupati) and I want my ashes to be spread throughout Nepal. It is a morbid way of me wanting to be back in the country I love. Plus, the extra dust would mix in just fine.

I think the reason why I have such love for Nepal is because it stretched me. For the first time, everyday life required strategy and creativity. Simply buying groceries was a feat. There was no neighborhood Albersons or Smiths. First, I had to go to the meat shop, then on to the fruit and veggie market, and finally, to the store that sold can and dried goods. Even my rice had to be purchased in a special section of town. For many people this would be an annoyance. But for me, it was an enticing challenge.

Lovely ladies in Patan

Life in Nepal was void of commercialism and competition. I don't think I ever thought about how I looked or what others thought of me (which is very apparent from all of my photos during that time). My worries were focused on whether we would be warm for the evening, or could I bathe my children in that water, or would the food spoil after 18 hours of no electricity? Strategic thinking was always in play. Rarely, if ever, did I ponder the color of my eye shadow or whether my house was clean enough.

A lot of my focus shifted during my time in Nepal. My family became such an important priority in my life because we only had each other. I also had more time to teach my kids and there was a lot of hands-on learning. My children rarely, if ever, watched television. (We often had no electricity anyways). Instead, my kids would learn about skinning a chicken, experiencing the cycle of life, or planting their own food. It came down to the basics. And basic living it was.

Nepal pushed me to deeply connect with my creative self. When I needed clothing for my children, I didn't have the option of driving to the mall and picking up something cute. Instead, I had to sketch something out, buy the fabric, and take it to a tailor. My creative juices were constantly flowing. It challenged me to look outside of, 'Oh I like that, let me buy it'. I was able to create something in my mind and do all the leg work that was required for it to be actualized, whether it was a sofa cover, a piece of furniture, or a piece of jewelry. I found that my right brain was in constant motion. I loved tapping into that, something that isn't nearly alive in me as it used to.

I think I love Nepal so much because I loved the me in Nepal. I loved the me that could get my hands dirty and explore the jungle, I loved the me that would be willing to jump off a bridge, and I loved the me that found opportunities to serve. Had I not lived in Nepal, I would probably not have known that side of me, as a mother, wife, individual, and citizen of the world.

Visiting Sarita's family. They hosted a very special Tihar puja for my gang. The generosity and kindness was immense.

Most importantly, I miss my children and family in Nepal. I miss the unique experiences we had there and the relationships that we developed. We have reminisced about our lives in Nepal several times since we have moved to Qatar. We are often moved from laughter to tears as we recall the many joyful experiences we had there. Inevitably, the conversation ends with the kids smiling, sighing, and then saying, 'I wish we were still there...'

The lessons I learned in Nepal are many--too many to list. But, the most important one I learned is that I am fortunate. No one can drive the streets of Kathmandu or visit a Nepali village without feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and thanks. While I lived there, I felt that way every single day. This was not because I had material wealth, because anyone can obtain that. Instead, it was because I was fortunate enough to live in such a beautiful country, with beautiful people, living a beautiful life. For that, I am truly blessed.

PS - More can be read about our girlcation adventures on Afton's site here.