The Nitty Gritty and Down and Dirty

Lead kindly light, amid th’encircling doom;

Lead thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene-one step enough for me.

We sang this hymn at an LDS gathering last week. And I lost it. On the inside and a titch on the outside. I try to rarely fully lose it on the outside.

I think the impression most people have our life here in the Kingdom is not an entirely accurate one. This is in large part my own doing as I have become guilty of doing what I for so long accused everyone else of, posting only the best and rosiest parts of our life via the social media outlet of your choice. And those that aren’t rosy, we make light of, so people don’t ever see our true struggle and heart ache. We are living a very rich, fulfilling and adventurous story right now. We are living life in a part of the world that few get to see, that few understand and where mystery and mystic abound. We get remarkable opportunities to travel, our children are enjoying a wonderful private bi-lingual education, we are saving money (for the first time in our lives), and are experiencing the ‘world’ in a very real way. I think this is what people see. Here’s what you don’t.

Wade, working 60-80 hour weeks on a regular basis. Him falling asleep next to Tessa at 7PM every time he has an opportunity to put her to bed. You don’t see the cultural challenges of trying to run a successful, streamlined and efficient business standard. You don’t see his important and well planned meetings being put on hold 4 times a day due to prayer, or him telling nurses that have never seen a Westerner in their hospital that, “No, you need to put your phone away, you can not take a picture of me.” (This would put Wade in a very dangerous and compromising situation should his photo be found on a single Saudi woman’s phone by the wrong person). You don’t see him traveling away from the home 2-3 nights a week, canceled and delayed flights and losing the ability to maintain his love of bike and running shoes. Not only is there no time to do it, there’s no where to do it either. Plus, it’s about to get way to freaking hot.

You don’t see me carrying a two year old and holding the hand of a four year old up the stairs in my abaya, catching my foot on every stair. You don’t see me coordinating my every move with my driver Iqbal and my neighbor, Sophie, whom I share Iqbal with. I can’t go to the grocery store without checking in with someone. You don’t see me getting to the grocery store just 2 minutes to late, due to the nightmarish traffic, only to sit and wait in the car for 30 minutes until prayer time is over. You don’t see the Mutawa reprimanding me and then commanding me to cover my head, or many (not all!) Saudi men, refusing to acknowledge me, my opinion rarely counted. Last week, Iqbal was in a fender, bender and although I was a witness in the back seat and am his employer, I had to sit quietly in the back until my husband came to talk to the police officer and give us a ride home. You don’t see me handling the dinner, and bath and bedtime routine by myself night after night, only to wake up 6 hours later, to do the get dressed, eat breakfast, clean it up and get out of the door by 7:15 routine the next morning.

You don’t see us fighting to communicate our needs and wants in a poor combination of English and Arabic, the exhaustion of a long day in a sometimes frustrating culture, our skin drying out, our children covered in dust. Friends are few, as the opportunities to create them are limited and the chance to get together challenging. You don’t see the tears at night, or the supplication to our Father in Heaven, for sometimes, just the strength to go another day. We are far from home. In every meaning of the word. Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see, the distant scene-one step enough for me. The big picture, is just too big sometimes.

We make light of the nuances of this culture, because if you did not allow it to make you laugh, it would kill you. It would slowly break you down until you became callused, critical and beat down. I do not want to be counted among the critical, eye rolling Westerners. This country and culture is mis-understood enough and I do not want to be a contributing member of it’s onslaught, but I swear, there are some days when I can’t hold back a, “This damn country is going to put me in my grave, or a big, loud, “Bite me” (in my head) to the Mutawa.

I know in 10 years when we are looking back on this experience, these daily frustrations, heartaches, and challenges will not be at the forefront of our memory. I believe, that part of what makes this such a rich life and character defining experience is the ability to plow through the hard days. This is true no matter where you are in the world. If you can fall in bed at night totally defeated, the only hope lying in your Heavenly Father’s mercy and wake up to fight the battle again the next day, you’re going to eventually come out on top. We Hunt’s may be worse for the wear (i.e. fatter, due to the lack of exercise), and our language may be more colorful, but you better believe we’re going to come out on top. We will continue to laugh at the camel in the back of a pickup truck, the idiot who makes a left hand turn from the far right lane, and the Arabic slang that Tessa brings home from school. We will remember the words of Amelia Earhart, “When a great adventure is offered, you don’t refuse it.” We take it, the good, the bad and the ugly. Nothing truly worthwhile is ever easy, right? So they say.

Let it be known, that we are happy. We continue to believe we made the right call and that this move will position us for who knows what. While some may not, we consider ‘where will this take us’ to be a good spot. Let it also be known, that this undertaking would not be possibly without the support and understanding of one another, the cheering section we have on the other side of the world and the charity and grace of our Heavenly Father.

“It is this principle (faith), my brethren and sisters, that points us heavenward, that gives us hope in the battle of life. When we become confused, and find ourselves confronted by obstacles we, seemingly, cannot overcome, having faith in the Redeemer of the world, we can go to him and know that our prayers will be answered for good.” –George Albert Smith

I keep that gem by my bedside.