Scott here, adding my occasional two cents. This time, actually, you get two stories,
each only worth one cent. So that makes
two I guess.
First Cent
Those of you have read our blog for any length of time know
the great amusement we glean from everyday events that just confound us. Like how today I brought Zeke to school only
to be told it was a public holiday and the school was closed. No schedule, no notes home, no mention of it
from the teachers yesterday despite the fact that we interacted for several
minutes!
In our last
newsletter update I talked about the privilege of visiting a
several-thousand-year-old village with a student-friend of ours. He drove, did the asking of locals near the
site, and was convinced we found it. It
looked old! We found broken pieces of
pottery that looked like pictures we found online. The geography, the grid of ruined house
foundations, everything seemed right.
The site was excavated in the 1950’s, and relatively unknown even to
locals. It is still largely
unspoiled. A teammate and I, along with
our local friend, took tons of pictures to corroborate our find! You can tell where this is going…
A few weeks later I wanted to show another American friend
the spot. Word spread and soon we were
20 foreigners in 3 trucks headed to the site.
(I had forgotten it was a religious holiday in which people visit the
graves of family members; our dirt road took us right through a cemetery. Talk about sticking out like a sore
thumb.) Because we had no local with us,
I thought it best to make contact with the villagers living at the site. 2 families have rebuilt houses right on the
old ruins! This way they wouldn’t call
the cops on our sizeable group. The
family was very friendly, even offering, insistently if not insincerely, to
have us stay for dinner (it was 2pm). As
the group spread through the site, taking pictures, in wonderment of the
history upon which they were treading, I talked with the teenage son of the
village family…
“This is amazing that you live here.” “Yes, I know.” “This place is very old. Why did your family build here?” “We always lived here.” “Really? What about in the 50’s when the guy came to
do the dig?” “What guy? You mean the one
who dug up X?” “Yes.” “He worked over there.” (points finger far
away) “You mean this isn’t X?” “No, this is Y.” “Then what’s with the ruins?” “In the 1980’s the dictator’s army destroyed
our village.”
Talk about jolting your historical epochal context! Houses here have been built largely the same
way for thousands of years (we even saw an old-fashioned, Old Testament-style
threshing floor!) and with the systematic destruction of villages in the
1980’s, it was nigh on impossible to tell the difference. As the group gathered back in, I told them
about the mix-up, and none were disappointed.
It was an honor to experience the kindness of a family that firsthand
endured the devastation of recent history.
Second Cent
Katie’s birthday is October 31. You know how you project your own expectations
for these sort of things? I hate hoopla
for my birthday. I love a quiet day with my family, without much work, and a
piece of cake for dessert. So naturally
that is what everyone else wants, right?
I readily admit I have been a slow learner. I STINK at planning ahead for birthdays. Last year for the big 3-0 her mom and I put
together a roller rink throwback party with friends and family. Preparing nearly killed me. (Already said it, I STINK at this sort of
thing. But you should have seen me 8 years ago!)
This year I knew a party was going to be impractical, so I
thought I better get it done with a tremendous present to show her that I
listened to her hints. (I provide Katie a
written wish list by April 1 every year.
My birthday is in June.) At a local
department store they’ve brought in these neat Chinese footbaths, like a spa
for your feet. Given the dry dusty
climate we have Katie thought that would be a nice way to relax. So, back in late summer I wrote that note
down and in early October bought one. I
even got it on sale so it was close to our budget. I hid it in the garage, quite proud of
myself. On the morning of her birthday
last week, with great pomp I presented the box to her. She opened it up, and voila! There were 50 brand-new kitchen knives in the
box. That explained the weight of the
box. I figured I had to exchange it at
once before Katie found a use for those 50 knives!
Lesson learned. Next
time you buy that boxed up barbeque grill off the shelf at Home Depot, open the
box to make what the outside pictures is actually on the inside, and not filled
with door handles or Christmas lights.
(By the by, the store clerks were embarrassed and replaced it; that
gracious act itself completely surprised me.
AND the footbath is really relaxing.
In the end I think I still nailed it.)
