Hop on…

let’s go for a ride on my soap box. I am about to whine. And I am aware that all complaints will make me sound like a spoiled American. But today, that’s what I am.

-This is my water heater.

Does it look the size of of a 10 gallon bucket you might buy at your local Home Depot? That’s because it is. And a hot shower lasts approximately as long as dumping a 10 gallon bucket of water over your head would last. I have yet to shave both legs in one shower. And somehow, it takes 30 minutes for it to refill before the person coming behind you can take their 45 second rinse.

-Mosquito’s. Whaaaaaaa? Is that what you just said? Because that is what I said the first time I saw that pesky insect flying in my house. If there was one place on this earth I thought I would be free from those blasted, good for nothing blood suckers that have made me miserable every summer for 3 weeks since I was 5, I thought it would be here in the desert sands of Arabia. But as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, there are mosquito’s in Riyadh. And they bite me and my children while we sleep at night. I just itched my my face. Damn mosquito’s.

-Our entire villa is tile, wall to wall.

This is the norm in the Middle East. I don’t know why yet, unless that it’s just easier to clean the layer of dust that settles on every surface. But it gives me anxiety every time my clumsy two year old goes up and down those stairs. We’ve bought rugs to fill the whole house to cut down on the noise and to give us something soft underfoot. And we’ve taken to wearing house slippers all the time.

-Shall I expound more on the dust. It’s amazing and relentless. I still don’t know how when the Bedouins were setting up camp they didn’t think to themselves, “You know, settling here in the smack dab of the biggest desert on Earth is going to really muck up our tents, we should head to the coast.” I know if I were a Bedouin, I for sure would have foreseen this as a huge problem. Fortunately, I have a little friend named Anwar who comes and helps me with my floors, because with as much tile as there is in here, one would seriously be mopping around the clock.

-This is my kitchen floor:

I don’t feel like I really need to expound on this.

-Shower head in the powder room.

This too is common in Saudi homes. The lack of a tub and a shower head right next to the toilet. That doesn’t bother me so much as the fact the faucet is at the EXACT height for my two year to turn it on and have a romping good time, soaking himself and every surface within range.

Now, before I go full boar with the snobbery, or fire our landlord Abdul Mosun, I will remain true to the character I am trying to develop and end with a lovely story.

Abdul Mosun is a treasure. His lack of English + hand gestures + prejudices + accent, result in stories that I will adore and find hilarious until the end of my days. Such as the following:

Sophie (my neighbor and friend) had Abdul Mosun in her home the other day while there were some repair men working in her kitchen. Apparently, I came up in conversation. Please read in an Arabic accent. And remind me next time I see you to act it out for you, because the accent makes an average story, exceptional.

A.M.:Madam Katelyn (points next door)

Sophie: Yes, Katelyn?

A.M.: Nose? Nose? (points to nose)

Sophie: Yes, her nose?

A.M.: Original? Cut?

Sophie: (baffled) Yes! Original!

A.M.: Original?? No cut?

Sophie: No! No cut! Original

A.M. (very satisfied and nodding) It very good. Good nose.

And then he told the repair man to hurry up. What a gem. Just when I am about to give him an earful about his mango tile choice, he tells my friend he thinks I have a very good nose. My nose, or rather, the large monstrosity that sits on my face and has been the crooked, bumpy bain of my existence since 4th grade when Matt Chandler called me Pinocchio, was just mistaken by Abdul Mosun for an on purpose, rhinoplasty. Bless him. I refuse of course, to recognize that 98% of women’s noses in this country are veiled and therefore he has little to compare mine too. He called it very good and we will leave it at that.

And I will leave my whining at that too. Our home is lovely, really. It’s coming along and starting to feel like ours. Except for the mango. And 10 gallon bucket water heater.