Pathetic. Just. Pathetic!!!

Nour Miyati, a maid from Indonesia, has been in the news here in The Sandbox since March of 2005 [click to see the photo of her lying in a hospital bed!]. The case made the headlines for several months - then it would quietly go away - and be back in the headlines again some time later. Ms. Miyati's past several years - at least since approximately October of 2003 - have been nothing short of a living hell.

The "short" version of the poor maid's saga is that her sponsor took her to the hospital for some injuries she'd sustained; the preliminary medical report said "there were strong marks, almost burns, on her ankles and wrists and severe contusion and bleeding in one eye, broken teeth, and evidence of being severely beaten on various parts of her body." Some injuries? I'd say!

Ms. Miyati was rushed to surgery where "doctors found gangrene in her limbs" and amputated "fingers on both hands, part of her right food and toes on her left foot in order to save her life." Ms. Miyati said "that her sponsor punished her because she had not finished her housecleaning completely. ...and that her hands and feet had been tied up and that she had been imprisoned in a bathroom for a month. ...her sponsor warned her not to talk to police or embassy officials." Gee. Is it any wonder why the sponsor wouldn't want her talking to police or embassy officials?

There was quite a backlash; and the general public was enraged. Roger Harris wrote a great article for Arab News and said:

In the interests of equity and the integrity of its position on human rights, it is time for the Saudi authorities to address with the utmost vigor the continued abuse of domestic workers in the Kingdom...

Quick and quite correct to comment volubly on "human rights abuses" against prisoners in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay, that section of the Arab public which voices loud concerns about "human rights" and the "preservation of the dignity of humanity" must now manifest itself and shout about this injustice from the rooftops of the Arab world. No more finger pointing at wickedness abroad; it is alive and well right here in Saudi Arabia...

For years, maids have been burned with irons, beaten and abused in the Kingdom - all a matter of public record. Foreign workers go unpaid for months, even years - again as a matter of public record. We here in the Kingdom know it and the rest of the world hears about it as well. It still occurs. Why?

The National Society for Human Rights intervened and contacted the investigating police. The sponsor, of course, "denied any connection with what had happened to Miyati, claiming the maid was bitten by an insect." [Good fucking grief?!? What kind of insect leaves such heinous injuries from a bite? I have to know so that I can avoid whatever it was at all possible costs!] ...so a few days after the sponsor took Nour to the hospital, the Riyadh police arrested him and questioned him. And, but for an insect bite - for which the young maid should be thankful her sponsor, Fahd Naji Al-Dossary, was so concerned about that he took her to seek medical attention - he and his wife did absolutely nothing to harm a maid who had worked for them UNPAID for eighteen months!!! The maid's version differs somewhat slightly and speaking on her behalf, Labor Attache at the Indonesian Embassy in Riyadh, M. Sugiarto, said that:

"The first time she asked for her salary, that's when it started... It wasn't only the man, the wife beat her too. She developed gangrene in her hands and feet after being tied up for a month in the bathroom. When the gangrene began to smell unpleasant, the family made her sleep outside the main house... They locked her up whenever they went out."

As the poor maid languished in the hospital, receiving the best of care the Kingdom has to offer at the behest of Crown Prince Abdullah, during which time another maid was sadistically tortured and raped, Nour Miyati's case again made headlines when, in a shocking twist of events, SHE was charged with making false allegations!!! Apparently, at some point in the investigation Nour "retracted" her earlier charges that she was tied up and tortured by her employer so SHE was charged with making false allegations against her employer.

The case was "reinvestigated" and "re-reinvestigated". It was determined that further "clarification" was needed from the "report cited" from the "medical committee" as to as to some of the findings:

"The maid suffered wounds and bruises to her body, suggesting she had been the victim of violence and that the gangrene could not have been caused as a direct result of beating and that it was probably caused by a disease suffered by the patient." [Oh, yeah, that AND the insect bite!]

"Furthermore, the report suggested that the bruises on the maid's body came as a result of a wardrobe having fallen on her. And that the fingers must have been affected by using chemical detergents. The report, which is foggy and full of hazy possibilities and even medically suspect statements, goes on to say that some of the bruises were inflicted by the sponsor's wife."

Case almost closed then. Nothing "suspect" anywhere. The maid got bitten by some sort of mutant alien insect; a clothing wardrobe ["armoire"] fell on her and she forgot to wear gloves on the days she stuck her hands in to buckets of chemicals. Umm. Yeah. And off Nour Miyati goes, to JAIL!!! AND, unbelievably, is sentenced to receive 79 lashes! Yes. Whereas, the sponsor's wife, who admitted at some point to throwing a shoe at Ms. Miyati was only sentenced to receive 35 lashes. What 80 lashes for poor Nour Miyati was too many, and 75 lashes weren't enough? The Judge, later, did reverse his ruling as to the maid. Justice prevails...

During the course of the time Nour Myati's ruling to her 79 lashes was reversed, there were other maids in the news due to abuse at the hands of their sponsors. I've blogged on some of them...

But poor Nour Miyati, who has been put through the utterly unspeakable for the last four and a half years - who came here to make a living from a country where she couldn't - in the end, gets ONLY 2,500 Riyals for enduring pain and suffering - AFTER having worked for EIGHTEEN MONTHS DURING WHICH SHE WAS NOT PAID. 2,500 Riyals. That's $670.24 in U.S. dollars. Oh, sure. Plenty, right?

Ms. Miyati, you will probably never read this blog - and likely will never know it exists - only a very select few do. Please know that I for one am so sorry that you have had to live through this entire experience. I know your time here has left you with nothing but repulsive memories you will have to live with forever. NO ONE CAN BLAME YOU FOR THAT!

In local news today...

Big stuff happening in our little community! The King is coming for a visit. Preparations have been underway for some time, now, with our gazillion imported laborers working 24/7 to get everything in tip-top shape. Big kudos to them all - they really, really have been working very hard under conditions most of us - and certainly none of the "locals" - would not even dream of working under. Thankfully, it isn't the middle of summer yet, and with temperatures only in the low 100's [today the high is expected to be 103 degrees (Fahrenheit ) with clouds - although MSN Weather says it is already 104 degrees outside] the heat is not unbearable. [It is a dry heat; it truly does feel different than a humid heat. That would be absolutely miserable!]

Buildings have been painted, flowers planted, tents erected, giant megatron television screens are being constructed... It should be quite an event. I may try to walk up for the parade which is being held only a half dozen blocks from our house. I've not made up my mind about whether I will go or not. I do have some mixed feelings about attending such a spectacle. A friend of mine who is involved in some of the planning that has gone told me yesterday that they are asking spectators to dress in their "national" costumes. Okay. So we can expect to see hordes of people dressed in their white thobes and red-checkered gutras or fully covered head-to-toe in black. What would the American "national" costume be? Jeans and a tee-shirt with sneakers and a baseball cap? Yeah. That wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. Can you say "target?"

In other much, much less important news... The Saudi Gazette has a report of cleaning worker being killed by a dump truck. There is no such thing as OSHA here, in The Sandbox, and the unfortunate deaths of laborers are not an infrequent occurrence.

Today's Saudi Gazette also has a report detailing the ingenious method three Indian workers devised to knead dough. [Because you just can't make this stuff up...]

While I continue to contemplate whether or not I will try to attend the parade, I think I'll go work on my tan for an hour or so, and think about what is in hanging in my closet that would be representative of an American's national costume. Any suggestions?

What a "schmall" looks like...

We had another "schmall" this morning, which was kind of strange because it wasn't really very windy out, but the sand in the air was thick. You COULD taste it. Here's a photo at about 10:30 this morning from my driveway:


You can just barely make out the radio tower in the middle of the picture rising up over the palm tree - only if you know what you are looking for. This is how we gauge how dusty it is outside - by looking at the tower - if we can't see the tower - we stay inside.

Here is a picture from approximately the same spot in the driveway at 1:05 this afternoon:


I can assure you the photos aren't "fixed" or "shopped" or whatever. I don't even have Photoshop, and I am NOT nearly technically savvy enough to be able to do anything but unload the pictures from the camera [most of the time, anyway] and then get them posted to the very simplest form of blog.

The pool is going to be a mess. Again!

Updates...

We had a completely uneventful weekend in The Sandbox, insofar as rocks and toilet paper being thrown into our pool. We did have quite a bit of wind though - yesterday morning was extremely pleasant sitting outside - in the warm breeze. Although the wind wasn't strong enough to kick up "schmalls" [dust storms], it did throw quite a bit of "dust" or sand into the pool. The pool is an absolute mess today. No, we do not have brown grout in our tiled pool. That is dirt. Thank goodness the pool guy comes today!

This is what an almost clean garage looks like. There is still some work to be done, and DH really, really needs to do his part - and yes, he IS busy working this week [not on the golf course], but his reprieve isn't going to last through next weekend when he's done working. I did not take pictures of his tool area or his work area - no way they are ready to be photographed. But here are photos of MY incredible efforts to get the garage cleaned up once and for all. All the "stuff" that's sitting in the middle of the garage? Well, that's going to get posted on the community website and hopefully will get sold. [Aren't those purple lamp shades just absolutely gorgeous? Yeah. What was I thinking when I bought them?!?]

I posted last week about the "canine nutrition" which I ordered from The Honest Kitchen at the recommendation of Rachel Lucas, that someone in Customs thought was drugs - or something - when the packages were slashed open and thrown back into the box. The Kids weren't overly impressed with the food the first time it was served to them - they did eventually eat it [there are a million starving dogs in India... eat your dinner...]. The Boy seems to really be liking it now, and licks his bowl almost completely clean!!! The Baby? She's still not quite sure about it; oh, she'll eat it because her choice is to eat it and not be hungry or let her Big Brother eat it and starve.

The Honest Kitchen is going to save me hours and hours and hours of time that I can be outside working on my tan [oncologists need jobs, too!] instead of in the kitchen slaving over a stove making the Kids' food. I had a really nice conversation with Christin at The Honest Kitchen's a few days ago and she was incredibly helpful. She calculated exactly how much food I was going to need so that I could order an entire years worth of food and have it shipped over when we do our big yearly shipment to ourselves AND she gave me the information for a 30% off coupon which I can use through the end of this month! I won't be shipping the years worth of food over here until later this summer when we make our trip to the States, but I'm going to ship it to my Mom's and have her store it for us until we get there. I used the 15% off coupon from Rachel's site to order 20 pounds of food which I sent to the hotel a friend in the States is currently at and he will hand-carry it back to us this week so we can by-pass the assholes in customs this time.

Local News...

A couple of quickies from our local newspapers. Because you just can't make this stuff up...

A "Court of Cassation" has annulled a general court's ruling in a case where a man was sentenced to "50 lashes in a public place." He was found "guilty of physically and verbally abusing his wife." The overriding ruling said that the man was legally entitled to "discipline" his wife.

The "youngest witch to be caught ever" by the commission is in jail. The 16 year-old "witch" was arrested with a 37 year-old accomplice; they have confessed to claiming to "have the power to break up relationships and make people impotent."

I'm Doing It!

Oh my gosh. I must have shamed myself. I've been busy cleaning the garage. Did I take "before pictures?" Nope. Would of, should of, and could of. But, didn't. Will take "after" pictures though. Now, if anyone one wants to come in and take or steal "stuff," they'll be able to do so, neatly, precisely, and without getting hurt. When I did a post about being "Safe and Secure" earlier this week, I lied. The reason no one tried to come into our garage to steal anything - beside the fact that Security would have been all over 'em - is because they didn't want to take the chance of being seriously injured just trying to GET into the garage. Not any more.

Come on in. Take what you want. Ha! Go ahead and try to steal something from my garage. You'll just have to know my system. And, damn! DH has to clean up HIS stuff, too!!! Seems to me that his "other job," his golfing, gets in the way of doing things that are so much more constructive. As I have stated previously, I was always able to come up with a plethora of excuses as to why I hadn't been out there working to clean the mess up, either. "DW" [Dear Wife"] is going to put her foot down, now, though. And I'll be doing what I do best. Which is bitching about anything and everything. But, damn it! I want that garage cleaned!!!

If we can just sell or get rid of all of the stuff we're ready to eliminate - then we will finally, and for the FIRST time EVER, be able to park the truck in the garage. Anyone want to buy a wheelbarrow? A purple bike with flat tires? An old futon? A croquet set? TV tables? [They're the nice ones, you know, the solid wood, butcher block kind that fold flat to store under the couch. Used twice.] How 'bout two brushed nickel lamps with purple faux alligator, ostrich, leather and feather beaded lampshades? Yeah. Nice. Very nice. And, sexy too. Nothing says "sex in the bedroom" better than tacky lampshades... 100 Riyals [$26.80] each for the lamps. I paid a LOT more for them than that when I originally purchased them. Hey. What can I say. I was buying "romance and ambiance" for the bedroom. Photos to follow - tomorrow? ...of a clean, neat and perfectly organized garage. Umm, except for the part DH has to take care of. Expect photos showing that mess all cleaned and organized in about four and a half years - when we are getting ready to leave The Sandbox to head home, to the States.

My Growing Green Thumb

Only during this past year, since we moved from the townhouse to a house, have I taken any interest whatsoever in trying to achieve a beautifully manicured and landscaped yard. It is so much different when something is yours - then you really, really care - but when you're renting and you know it isn't yours, its not that you don't care, you just don't care as much. I'm really into the whole "my yard has to look fabulous" thing, lately, though, regardless of the fact that we are "renting," and do not own this house, and the yard is finally coming around. Right now - as summer has arrived - it will be difficult to plant anything new without it dying. It is just too damn hot for plants. Some of what was planted in the winter and early spring months seems to be doing great though, and, I think, by next year it will be perfect!

The pampas grass is full and fluffy and bushy - just like it is supposed to be.

My lonely little lime tree could use some help... I thought I planted a lemon tree. Nope. It is a lime tree. Oh well. Limes are good, too.

I've FINALLY got my first carnations! They're little baby carnations right now, but at least there are a few flowers. The birds are murdering my carnations, though. They eat all the buds before they can even become flowers. I need to get a high-powered squirt gun and then I'm just going to hang around the front yard and wait for those vultures to prey on my carnation buds and I'm gonna blast 'em. Nothing against birds, but they need to go find another front yard to belly up to for a bud-buffet.

The purple plants are a variety of spiderwort. They are doing just okay; they've been in the ground for two months now and don't look a whole lot different than when they were planted. I was told it was a "ground cover" and would grow up and out. Not seeing much "up" and not seeing any "out." But I liked the color, so I'm giving them a try.

My asparagus fern, or sprengeri must really, really like where I planted it. I had a few little sprigs there and already they've tripled in size in just a few short weeks.

This picture does NOT do the lantana justice, at all. It is simply and absolutely gorgeous!

Sansevieria doesn't flower, or turn some incredible color - it just kind of "is." This is all it will do. I'm getting some "baby shoots" on it though, so it must like where it got planted, and I needed something in front of the window - but didn't want a bush or anything huge that was going to block the sunlight.

This is my pride and joy in my back yard, the jacquemontia. In October these were three spindly little vines and look at them now! The garden-guru here on our compound told me that they did not like full sun and that they probably were not going to do well where I chose to put them. Ha! Proved her all wrong! They are absolutely thriving in full sun in the back yard and growing like weeds!

And last, but not least, the ruellia, which is doing okay, but not great. Perhaps I'm just expecting too much, too soon. I would really like to see this take off like my vines did and I suspect if they were not so frequently "watered" by the Kids - or more specifically - The Boy, then it just might grow "big and strong.

Assholes in Customs

I really, really hope that US Customs officials treat all mail coming from Saudi Arabia the same way it gets treated here. I hope all the packages are opened, that packages get pawed through and that US Officials take whatever it is they decide they want before you get it, and that your stuff gets damaged and destroyed. You know, the exact same way you fucking assholes do it here, for mail coming to us from the United States.

On a recommendation from a blogger that I really like Rachel Lucas I ordered some dehydrated dog food from The Honest Kitchen. I had the food shipped to the service that forwards our mail to us - we got the box today. Yeah! Packages are always a good thing, if you live in a normal world; living here is NOT living in a normal world. Getting mail has been an issue since we got here. It's a gamble as to whether or not you're going to get your mail - you often don't, and it's a gamble as to whether or not everything you are expecting is going to be in that mail - it often isn't. I know this - but still - there is just so much you can't get here in The Sandbox that you have to have it sent to you or you have to go without.

Finding great shoes is unrealistic and an impossibility, here. What passes for fashion in the shoe stores here leaves a great deal to be desired. A few years ago I ordered several pairs of shoes from Zappos and had them shipped to my parents, and then had my parents send them to me here. I knew I was taking a risk having fabulous shoes sent to me - that someone could decide that they needed them for one of their wives or daughters and that I'd never get them - so I tried to get tricky. If I ordered three pairs of shoes, and then I would have my Dad send all three left shoes in one box to me one week, and then a week or so later have him send all three right shoes in another box. That way, when the assholes in Customs opened the box there'd be three mismatched left or right shoes - but no "pair" or "pairs" together that could easily be swiped. Very, very smart on my part, right? Well, no, not really. Someone caught on to my system and thought they'd be smarter - they took ONE pink shoe out of a shipment to me thinking that they'd get the match to the pink shoe in the next shipment. Well, since I'd received the first pink shoe already - there was no second pink shoe coming - but guess what? I never got the second pink shoe, either. Lesson learned - expensively, and the hard way.

If you order from Victoria's Secret - if and when you can access the site - it's blocked, again, now you can pretty much bet that you are never going to see one of the catalogs that gets put in your shipment. I have had them all confiscated except for one! Victoria's Secret catalogs are considered pornographic material, here. So, what exactly are YOU - Mr. Customs Official - doing with MY Victoria's Secret catalogs, anyway? I'm sure I don't want to know. Pervert.

We open the box we got today - and there's food spilled out all over inside it! I ordered two sample packages of each kind of food The Honest Kitchen sells for my Kids. They couldn't possibly have opened the packages and taped them back up. Hell no. They slashed the packages open with a knife and then just threw the packages back in the boxes. You fucking assholes! I paid $66.43 to have the package shipped to me - the food cost less than half of what I had to pay to have the box shipped to me, and this is what I got [actually, there were more packages that had been ripped open, but I tried to salvage what I could, before I decided that I needed to take pictures]:

For even a half a nanosecond, did you seriously think I was sending something other than what the packages say they contain - like drugs - to The Sandbox? Do you honestly think that just because I'm blonde I'd be foolish enough to be sending marijuana or something to myself? Do you really think I want to be beheaded or executed for drug smuggling? Ahh, no. I don't think so. I like my head just fine like it is, thank you very much, attached to my shoulders.

Oh, and the bags of food weren't the only items opened in the box we received today. My DH got something from American Express. That was also ripped open. What? Do you jokers seriously think we'd be foolish enough to let American Express send our credit cards to us, here? Gimme me a break. When we packed up our household and personal effects some five years ago to move to this part of the world, we didn't neglect to pack our brains! And, we have since learned from the first-hand experiences of others that have been foolish enough to have their credit cards sent to them from the States what happens. YOU confiscate the cards and start "shopping." We have our credit cards sent to us via Federal Express so that they can be traced from the time they leave to the time WE have to sign for them, and if by some fluke a credit card ends up going to our mail forwarding service, we immediately get on the phone and call the issuing credit card company and have the card canceled and then call our mail-forwarding company and tell them not to send us ANY mail from American Express or XYZ Credit Card Company - we'll just wait to get that mail on one of our three or four yearly trips back to the States.

You know... Really, I want to see good in things. I'm here in The Sandbox as a guest - although treated more like a criminal - and I really, really would like to go back to the States someday and say just how wonderful things were, how fabulously we were treated, how much this Country has to offer and what an incredible experience it has been to be able to live here. But it's things like this - the assholes in Customs - stealing stuff that is sent to ME - destroying stuff that is sent to ME - confiscating stuff that is sent to ME - that is going to leave a very, very bad and bitter taste in my mouth about my experiences, here. And that's THEIR fault, not MINE!

Safe and Secure with the Door Wide Open

Our compound Security DID do what they promised to do - I don't know if they camped out in my driveway or not - but there were no further incidents with rocks or toilet paper being thrown in our pool. I'm going to make brownies or cupcakes or something to take to Security for next weekend. I am really quite appreciative of their services - for all intents and purposes, I think they try very, very hard to do a good job under incredibly trying circumstances - even though I may not always see things quite "their" way [i.e., stopping the little worker on his scooter when he'd done absolutely NOTHING wrong], but... Today I will go talk to whoever I need to to find out if I can get a security system put in around the back yard to "guard" the pool.

Last night, I was sitting outside talking on the phone, and once again, I had "visitors." There's a three foot cement block wall that is attached to our privacy wall which is actually the wall surrounding our driveway. And one of the neighbor's maids will stand on the wall and then lift the kids up so they can see over the privacy wall. Hello?!? There's a reason it is called a "privacy" wall! Honestly, WTF is wrong with some people? What, just because we are "Westerner's" and living in a house which is completely surrounded by a wall which isn't quite the "norm" from where we come from we're not entitled to privacy? No. You are going to have your picture taken for Security the next time you stand on that wall to see over my wall. I don't care how much fun it sounds like my Kids are having - it is NONE of YOUR business! Unbelievable. Before we had the security wall "heightened," we had an entire family standing in their windows looking in to our yard if we were out there. Now, because the wall is too high for you to see over, you're standing on the back wall to see over and in? Geez!

Although I do bitch and complain a lot about living here, there is also much that I can't and won't complain about. Yesterday DH went to play golf and forgot to shut the garage door. The garage faces the street - and from the back, inside our fenced in yard - you can't see that the garage door is wide open. The garage is full of crap. We have never parked our truck in the garage - it won't fit until the garage gets cleaned out - and that's a project that just isn't quite getting accomplished. I've started cleaning it a half dozen times and basically what happens is that a box gets moved from one shelf to the floor and then something else gets moved from somewhere else to take the spot the box had on a shelf. But in actuality, nothing really gets cleaned or taken care of. Truly the project - cleaning the garage - is one that overwhelms me and I can come up with two-hundred and thirty-eight things I would rather do instead, and another six hundred and eleven excuses for not attacking the garage - it's too hot, my knee hurts, I need help lifting something...

All day yesterday the garage door was wide open - an invitation for anyone to go in and help themselves to whatever they might want - coolers, tools, cans of paint, bicycles - one of which has flat tires, that I've not used ONCE since we got here, and that has to be at least thirty years old and worth nothing - and one that cost $1,500.00 when it was new ten years ago - both are still sitting there. There's an old rocker that has NEVER been used [why didn't someone help themselves to it? please!]. There is a double-size futon that is rolled up and wrapped in black plastic - and hasn't been used in over fifteen years - I have no idea why we thought we even had to move it over here. We've got a couple butcher-block TV trays out there that I trip over regularly - you know - the little folding tables that you pull up in front of you on the couch to eat off of - I think when we lived in North Carolina we used them twice [whoever wants to take those - feel free to help yourself!]. We've got a half dozen different size coolers out there, duffel bags and old suitcases, tires, boxes of "stuff" which I have no idea what they contain, but obviously whatever is in them - we don't need it. Yes, the garage is full of junk that needs to either be put on the curb or sold at a yard sale. There are also lots of expensive tools and other various "garagy" things out there that we do need or want.

The point is, though, that the garage door was open ALL DAY and NO ONE touched anything! I can't think of ANY place that we've ever lived where you could be so trusting. Would things have disappeared from our garage if this had happened in Durham, North Carolina? In a skinny second! [The garage would have been cleaned out. Problem solved.] I know people here who leave their doors unlocked all the time and again, where in the States can you do that anymore? Security here, really does take things like theft quite seriously. A couple of months ago there was a rash of burglaries - kids were breaking into houses looking for booze - and would help themselves to laptop computers, jewelry, televisions and stereos, etc. Security caught the culprits - I don't know all the details and the entire story - but the eight teenagers who were involved, who, by the way were NOT "locals," were given twenty-four hours to leave The Kingdom. Gone. Exit-only visas. They will not be returning. No second chances, no molly-coddling, no excuses. Bye-bye. Instances such as that do serve as prime examples of what can and will happen, and likely deter the same from happening again. Does such swift justice happen like that in the States? Hell no.

This truly is a community where if your three year old happens to be outside playing you don't have to worry if you're not right there watching him or her that some pervert is going to come along and snatch your kid. Not that I'd so trusting as to let my three year old go out and play unsupervised, but you could if you wanted to... And, even though I had to endure two nights of "neighborly vandalism," for the most part the Security on our compound is definitely worthy of some praise because there were no rocks OR toilet paper in my pool this morning! I'm still going to see about having the wall raised even higher, and I still want surveillance cameras installed, but at least I don't have to worry about junk being stolen out of a garage that's been left open all day long!

TITS II and Spitting Rocks!!!

Rocks! I am ready to spit rocks!!! Or ready to spit something, but I'm not quite sure what. Last night the Kids and I were outside so they could "do business" around nine o'clock. It wasn't very late. And, last night was Wednesday night, here, in The Sandbox, or what is the equivalent of Friday night in the States. Our weekend is Thursday and Friday, so this morning - Thursday morning - is what would be considered a Saturday morning in the states... I woke up early - and let The Boy out to do business - but didn't go outside with him. He does what he needs to do and comes right back in. It is still pretty early and too early for our morning "leash aerobics" and besides, I hadn't even had coffee or a cigarette yet. The Boy comes in. I make coffee. I turn the TV on, unload the dishwasher, etc.

The Boy has an infection in one of his "digits" - he's got a very nasty infection in one of his front toes and it is severe enough so that the vet is actually considering removing the entire toe - if we can't get the infection cleared up with what is now our third round of antibiotics. Poor little guy... So, we haven't been walking as much as we would all like to - what I often refer to as "leash aerobics," and on top of The Boy's toe infection - I've got a bad knee - but that's another saga. So, instead of walking, after we're all awake and up and fed, and I'm sufficiently caffeined and nicotined up, we head outside into our totally enclosed back yard so that the Kids can "do business." I've got the newspaper with me and I'm going to just sit outside on my chaise with the Kids and enjoy the bright blue beautiful sky and the sunny 100 degree morning.

I go to sit on my chaise and I notice a rock on it - not a boulder or anything - but a rock - bigger than a "pebble." Hmmph. Where'd this come from. And then I REALLY noticed... Someone or several someones [guessing teenagers but can't say for certain] has tossed rocks over our "privacy wall" all OVER our back yard, covering the patio, and INTO the pool! I am FURIOUS! No. Furious doesn't quite describe my state of agitation. That's putting it mildly. I immediately call our compound Security and they come and ask "do you have suspects?" Ahh, yeah, I do, but since it obviously happened sometime last night after nine o'clock and before I came out here this morning and I didn't actually see them, then I can't identify them, and so even if I tell you who I think might be responsible that's not NEARLY enough for me to be saying "so and so did it."

Security is very nice and very professional. I am given all sorts of promises that the area will be patrolled more heavily at night from now on and that they will keep an eye out for teenagers who are wandering. The security guys were actually pretty nice - and then their supervisor called me after they left to see if there was any damage to the house. No, no damage to the house; just a yard and a pool full of rocks - from the gravel pit next behind our house. [A gravel pit which serves what purpose?!? I have no earthly idea. It's just there.] Lovely. Just freakin' lovely. I spend an hour cleaning rocks up out of the yard, the patio, my flower beds AND an hour cleaning the rocks out of the pool. Whatever.

I called the boys that live directly behind us "little terrorists" to their faces and in front of their Dad this past January when they were laying outside under a tree late at night making howling sounds just to get The Boy going - he'd bark - and then the two boys would laugh and howl some more. A confrontation DID occur, Security got called, and I was the one who almost ended up getting hauled off and in trouble - just because I called the teenage boys "TITS." [See, TITS: Terrorists in Training.] So, that certainly didn't score me any points insofar as being a nice neighbor - but I've not had any problems with those two boys, since. I've also called Security on some of the other neighborhood boys as well with situations we've had which involve their taunting and tormenting my Kids and over firecrackers going off at the crack of dawn. Okay, more points against me and for sure I am NOT known as the "nice lady with the two four-legged Kids who lives in the house on the corner."

Anyway, so tonight, sometime before nine o'clock, the Kids and I go out so that they can "do business," and we come back in - my DH is over at a friend's house - and just as I'm getting ready to put my "TV watching uniform on," I hear boys. [It's never girls - I guess the girls must not ever be allowed out - I NEVER see girls - just groups of young adolescent / teenage boys.] I go into the study and peek out the blinds and there's a group of ten or twelve teenage boys - yes, all locals - milling about across the street directly in front of our house. [Sure, you're keeping an eye out on our house with extra patrol cars! Doing a fine job, I might add.] So I call Security and am told they are sending a car right away. Great.

At this point I've grabbed my cell phone - so I can take photos! - and I'm walking outside to keep an eye on the boys - as they start heading up the street next to our house - and I call Security back to tell them to send the Security patrol up Raspberry Street and not to come to our house on Main Street - we're on the corner - the group of boys continues walking up the street as Security shows up - or what I thought was Security for MY call and what does the Security officer do? HE PULLS OVER A LITTLE JEBLEY WORKER ON HIS SCOOTER! I have been outside - I saw the little worker leave the house he's employed at and get on his scooter to go home. The poor guy has, no doubt, been working for fourteen or fifteen hours today - tomorrow - Friday - is probably his ONLY day off every week - he's looking forward to finally being done working for the week and enjoying his ONLY "weekend" night off - and he's getting pulled over by Security - for DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WHATSOEVER . The group of teenagers has continued on their merry way and is now out of sight!

I see the Security officer asking for the worker's ID and license or whatever - and then the Security worker goes back to his truck - and after a minute or two of waiting, a second Security officer shows up - and then the little worker's employer or sponsor comes out of a house across the street to talk to the first Security officer. The little worker IS NOT THE PROBLEM! But that's Security's main concern right now. I go to talk to the second Security officer that has shown up for this non-existent problem and explain that I'd called Security five minutes ago - that I'd had a major incident with rocks - that I was told that Security would be more diligent in patrolling and on the lookout for teenagers - and THIS LITTLE GUY THAT'S DONE NOTHING is getting a load of crap just for being an imported worker! Mr. Second Security officer says, "Yes Security is coming. There have been two accidents tonight. We are very busy." Busy, my ass you're busy. Busy harassing little workers - but stopping a bunch of teenagers which would be SO MUCH MORE PRUDENT is off the radar for you, I guess. The little worker is allowed to drive off and both Security guys leave, leaving me standing there with steam coming out of every orifice in my head!

A few minutes later the Security officers - two of them - responding to MY call show up. I bring them into the back yard and show them the bag of rocks that I'd had to pick up earlier and explain what the problem is and how NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE THAT THERE ARE DOZENS - YES, DOZENS!!! of teenagers all wandering around the streets - doing absolutely NOTHING constructive - and how I was promised that there'd be more patrols on the look out, blah, blah, blah... Again, to pacify me, I am told by this Security crew that there will be additional patrols in the area. Okay. Good. Go nab all the teenagers in the entire compound and lock them up. Yeah - I know - unrealistic of me to even consider this as a solution, but...

Not an hour - forty-five minutes at most - after Security leaves, I'm sitting in the study, I have the back screen door open - The Boy is in his room [his crate in our bedroom] and The Baby is laying at my feet - and I hear "WHAP!" What the hell was that? The Baby starts barking - The Boy isn't at all concerned and doesn't even bother to get up - and The Baby and I head outside to the back yard. WHATTHEFUCK!!! I've got ROCKS AND TOILET PAPER in my pool!!!!! I am outraged and for a brief second considering my own vigilante justice - but since I didn't see anyone throw the crap into my pool and by the time I get my shoes on, grab both the house phone and my cell phone and get out the front door to go around the back - nothing - there is no one there. I heard the "WHAP" at exactly 9:47P. I call Security. Again, two Security officers show up. I bring them into the back yard and show them that I've got rocks and toilet paper in my pool and explain that two other Security officers had just barely left, after promising that the area would be patrolled and now, thanks to the diligence on their part, I've got more rocks AND toilet paper in my pool. Mr. Security says to me, "Oh, we are very sorry, Madam. We are very busy tonight." Yeah, busy harassing little workers - but NOT the fucking teenagers who are harassing me!!! More personal assurances from the two Security officers who are going to be on the shift all night promising me that I will have no further problems with teenage boys. Okay. Security leaves; I'm getting ready for bed... Thursday night is "crime night" on Discovery Channel. Can't miss that. Perhaps I'll learn something that will help me solve the crime in my own back yard - but doubtful, since tonight's first show is on David Koresh and the Branch Davidians.

Before I can even turn the TV on, and before I've got the lights all out, and the house locked up, etc., I hear another "WHAP." The time is 22:49, or 10:49P. Yes. Those little motherfuckers are at it again! I race out the front door with no shoes on and cell phone in camera mode to get to the back of the house and there's no one there. [Here's a clue, though: It took me all of about four and a half seconds to get out of the house and around back - if whoever it is just threw something into my pool then they have to be close because otherwise I would have been able to see someone leaving, right? Yes, I am getting quite the crime-solving education from the true-crime shows on Discovery Channel!] I am on the phone, dialing Security, AGAIN, and telling them that they have to send someone immediately to our house. Within three or four minutes, Security shows up, only one Security officer this time - guess I don't get two anymore - because Security is probably just writing me off as some "crazed lady who lives with two four-legged Kids whose husband isn't home calling Security for the umpteenth time over teenagers just out having fun by throwing crap in her pool." There is more toilet paper in the pool - no more rocks - just what looks like an ENTIRE ROLL OF TOILET PAPER which is now dissolving into a fibrous mess in my pool. I am beyond furious!!!

This time I am not calmly and quietly talking to the "nice" Security officer. Oh no. I'm on off on a tirade about how we as American's were invited to come live here, that this is supposed to be an American compound and that because it isn't anymore we all have to suffer the consequences and that the boys who are out and about causing problems - no matter what the problems are - nothing happens to them because their Daddy's are bigwigs with the company whose compound we live on - and that we are supposed to be able to feel safe here and there is NO feeling safe when I can't even enjoy my own back yard and that now I've got crap to clean out of my pool again tomorrow and why, why, why isn't ANYONE DOING ANYTHING ABOUT THIS!!! And that I'm calling the head of Security on Saturday morning to complain that Security DOESN'T care about things that are actually happening - that Security NEVER stops the young men racing their cars through the compound at all hours and doing whatever else but up to no good - but will send TWO Security cars to stop a little worker that has done nothing wrong - and that something has to be done with these little twerps [I refrained from calling them TITS, and that was a good thing] who believe they are above the law and that it's time someone puts a stop to this!!!

Mr. Security was kind enough to let me vent my outrage on him and really, really tried to convince me that he was going to be patrolling all night and that he would be in our area as much as possible, that he was going to go off right then to round up teenagers and keep them away as best as he possibly could and that I should feel free to call if I had any more problems. [Oh, don't you worry. Security's telephone number is on speed dial on our home phone and on my cell phone and if I have to, then I'm going to sit up - outside in my back yard - all night to make sure that whoever is throwing crap into my pool is caught!] In the meantime, I really am tired, I'm missing my crime shows on Discovery Channel, and I just dread getting up to see my pool filled with more rocks and toilet paper and whatever else the little TITS decide might be fun to throw in it. All I can say is that they don't want me to catch them. Because, because, because - I'll, I'll, I'll - ahh hell. Even if I catch them, there's nothing that I can do, and probably nothing will be done to them either. We'll just have to wait and see what Security says on Saturday because I AM going to request that additional cement blocks be added to our privacy wall AND for security cameras to be installed!

[The two photos at the top do not show the rocks - or the toilet paper rolls - I didn't take pictures - I should have. But, didn't. The very top photo shows where we put an extension up on the privacy wall - the wooden section above the cement blocks - because when we first got to this house the neighbors used to stand in their windows - yes - they really did - and watch us while we were outside using the pool! So much for "privacy." The photo below that is where we had the back yard enlarged - which is where the Kids "do their business;" in between the cement block wall and the house behind the wall is where the gravel pit that has no purpose is. And the bottom photo of this post? Well, that's just a picture of two very, very adorable Kids keeping close eyes on a triple-chinned whale floating in a pool that has NO rocks OR toilet paper in it...]

Muttawa in the News

There have been quite a few stories recently published in both of our local daily newspapers, regarding The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice [commonly known as the Muttawa or the Religious Police]. Yes, of course I have read the articles but have not posted on any of the specific situations because with the exception of sharing some of the misery of my daily life in The Sandbox, I want, for the most part, to avoid subjects which might be considered controversial, and thus not raise the ire of my neighbors any more than I've already done.

The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice - the Muttawa - or The Religious Police, have in no way interfered with my life except for that ONE time three or four years ago at Rashid Mall where I was followed through the corridors of shops by two of them - and a security guard - for not wearing an abeya - as they shouted at me, "Young woman! Young woman! Where is your abeya?" It took them several minutes to actually catch and confront me - the whole while they were yelling I didn't turn around to see what the ruckus was all about because I honestly didn't realize at the time that it was me they were chasing and shouting at. [The secret, which has been shared with me since this occurred, is to immediately go into any one of the many lingerie shops as they will not follow you in there.] And why didn't I have my abeya on? At the time this incident took place I had not yet purchased one of those ridiculous sack-like black pieces of apparel because I was told prior to moving to The Sandbox, at the orientation sponsored by the company that employed my DH and was moving us from the States to this Country, that Western women, provided they were dressed respectfully, did not have to don this wretched black garb, when leaving the walls of the compound where we would be living. Yep. I was gullible and I believed this. My bad.

When I ventured to the mall that fateful day - it was a good year and a half or two years after we'd moved here - and I wore the same thing that I'd been wearing to the mall and outside the compound previously: jeans and a crew-neck t-shirt - but fully covering that outfit with one of my DH's blue denim workshirts - which comes down to my knees! There was virtually NO skin showing - so as far as I'm concerned - this was just one of those little displays of power forced upon me by men afflicted with - oh, how to say this politely - little man syndrome - just to make sure that I knew that I had to be put in my place simply because I am a Western woman. Suffice it to say that as a general rule, Western women are not particularly "adored," here. Whatever. My solution to not having to conform to what I consider to be some sort of neandrathalic mandate is to just not leave our compound - except to leave the country [i.e., go to Bahrain] - unless it is an absolute necessity and there is no other possible solution to obtain whatever goods it might be that I am needing - so I don't have to wear the black hefty bag very often [I probably wear it once a month - and that is to go to the grocery store off our compound because you can't get good bread or decent paper towels at our Commissary any more].

So, as the news goes, here, there have been a couple of occurrences where The Muttawa have arrested people for being in the state of "khulwa," which, judging from the severity of how the culprits were treated you might think would mean that a man and a woman were caught in the midst of having hot, sweaty, wild, passionate, all out, full butt naked sex in public but really only means that a man and a woman who are NOT related were together in some public venue. That is NOT allowed. Ohhhh noooo. Men and women, if they are not related [and let's face it - when you only marry first cousins and each man can have three or four wives - somehow most of the men and women here are probably related] MUST be separated! If an unrelated man is with an unrelated woman, that is "khulwa" and it is "haram" [forbidden]! It is no secret that there is no mixing of the sexes here - men get one entrance to a restaurant and women and families get another - and if they are caught together "in the state of khulwa" the punishment includes jail time and lashings.

One of the first instances that made world-wide news was the American woman who went to Starbucks with a Syrian male colleague. The American woman who was accused of "wearing makeup, not covering her hair and 'moving around suspiciously'" was arrested, strip-searched [did a woman perform this strip search???], forced to sign a confession and told by a Judge that she would "burn in Hell." [Exactly what is meant by "moving around suspiciously" is not stated, but you can rightly assume that the woman wasn't doing a pole-dance on a table in a g-string.] Good fucking grief. You just have to shake your head in awe that something like this really could happen to you as a foreigner in another country - but it can and could, especially here, in The Sandbox.

And then just a week ago, the next story to hit the newswire which was reported world-wide, involved a female Filipino nurse who was caught by The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice having dinner with a male colleague. The Filipino nurse was immediately taken to jail and has not been heard from since; as yet, even the Philippine Embassy has not been allowed to have any contact with her. Her male colleague says he was "dragged out of the restaurant by his belt with his feet in shackles" at the time of their arrest. Almost unbelievable... Yet, unfortunately it is true...

In other news on The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice there are reports of fatalities that resulted from car chases, another of the alleged beating of a man in hand-cuffs while he was in the custody of The Commission, one of a man leaping to his death from a third-floor window to avoid pursuit of The Commission, one of a woman being hit by a truck as she ran from the Commission, and one of a young undercover Saudi intelligence officer claiming physical abuse at the hands of The Commission.

An archive search at Arab News brought up 155 published articles - most of which detail the actions of The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice. And, an archive search at the Saudi Gazette brought up 38 published articles. So, just a quick archive search gives us a total of 193 articles which have been published in the papers and are on the internet... Keep this thought in mind - because the Western media gets the blame for airing this Country's dirty laundry...

General consensus, judging from the Letters to the Editor in the papers [which I can't seem to get to in order to link, here], about the role of The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice is mixed - with some saying it is a necessary branch of government to keep people in-line with laws and culture, here, and some saying the very opposite. Again, although incredibly difficult for me to do so, I am going to refrain from injecting my opinion - it certainly wouldn't take a Mensa candidate to figure out where I stand.

However, what is truly most irksome to me about all of this is that both papers are competing with each other to see who can get the most mileage out of how the Western media is "deliberately trying to malign the commission." "The media glare has put the Commission under a spotlight. And, naturally, the Western media loves to report this stuff." Umm, no. Not really. It's not the Western media that put these stories out there for the whole world to discover - it's the media, here! With special thanks, of course, going to the invention by a bloated former Vice President, the internet has thrown open the windows of what was once a very, very tightly closed society, and allowed the rest of the world to catch a glimpse of dirty laundry - the purported wrongdoings by this strong arm of the local government. So, then, that would be the West's fault, how, exactly? By mere association that the internet was invented by someone from the West is quite a stretch. The Western media didn't write or publish the original stories; that was done by media in the Middle East.

...but, as usual, and as is typical, if there is some "bad" in any act or deed or thought, it IS once again the West's fault. Damn. Isn't it always??? Just once, just one fucking time, it would be nice if the evil "West" didn't have to be culpable for the perceived exploitation of transgressions for which the blame must be laid solely upon the press here! Yes, believe it or not, everything awful in the world is NOT always the fault of the West and perhaps the sooner people in other parts of the world started realizing this and taking the blame for their own actions, the sooner there could be some minor steps taken to achieve world peace. Ahh. Forget it. Just never mind. I think we all know that that is NOT going to happen.

Any one want to start a betting pool?

Smart money says that HB15 [House Boy No. 15] and G6 [Gardener No. 6] will be done next week. I just don't have the patience for sloppiness and/or stupidity and both HB15 and G6 came with an over-abundance of the former and some of the latter through a contracting agency. I mean, for goodness sake, is it asking TOO damn much to get you two to pick up after YOURSELVES?!? One of the very reasons that I am employing the two of you is because I want YOU to pick up after US! Is it my fault for thinking that this was a given and not something that I was going to have to explain over and over and over again? Yeah... And, apparently, once again, I am NOT being specific enough!

We "expats" are no longer allowed to recruit our own help - only "locals" are given this privilege - and thus, in order to get household help and gardening help we "expats" are now provided with two contractors from which we can choose to work with - although I have been told by someone who has been here for thirty-seven years [e'fucking gad - thirty-seven years!] that the SAME person owns both contracting companies. So just about a month ago I got the telephone numbers for the two contracting companies and I called the second one on the list I was given because the first contracting company has a gazillion trucks and workers on our compound [I didn't know when I made the call that the two companies are owned by the same person]. Was there any other rational thought behind my decision making process? No. Not really. In hindsight, this was probably a mistake and I should have gone with the contractor who has the most trucks and the most workers because the people who are currently using his guys are likely semi- satisfied with the work which is performed. Whatever.

I made it very, very clear to the contracting company that I want a "real gardener" and not a guy with no experience who is just going to come and water my grass and flowers. I can do that myself, thank you very much, so send me someone who knows what he is doing. I am assured that that is what I will be getting. Yeah, yeah, yeah - of course I'm going to get assurances like that because you guys [the contractors] are all snakes and will say and do anything for the almighty dollar. So G6 shows up and has a green jumpsuit on with the name of the contracting company on the back - and on the front - where a name patch might be sewn is a patch that says "Gardener." Yep. That's what his "name patch" says, "Gardener." I've been told his name a half dozen times but I'm getting old and forgetful and since this little guy is never going to be one of my best buddies I immediately managed to misplace in my mind what his name is. Doesn't matter - we can't communicate at all - he speaks NO English whatsoever and HB15 has to translate everything for us.

I tell HB15 exactly what it is I want G6 to be doing and supposedly as I am telling HB15 he is translating what I say to G6. I actually SHOW G6 how to "dead-head" my flowers - and now - I've shown him every single day that he's been here for the last three and a half weeks - today is the last day I'm showing him - and I explained to HB15 that he better tell G6 to get with it because if I have to SHOW him one more time to pluck off my dead flowers then this will be his last week working here. I also tell HB15 that he needs to tell G6 that he is supposed to be a gardener and if he's a gardener then he needs to be doing what I would expect a gardener's duties would include. Why the hell aren't my bushes being pruned; why are there dead leaves everywhere [don't most gardener's know how to use a rake?!?]; why do I have weeds in my flower beds; and why hasn't my lawn been meticulously manicured?!? Is it asking too much for my flowers to be bright and beautiful and for my bushes to be growing "fluffy-like" and not "scraggly-like"???

The last straw this morning, though, was when I was outside and I looked behind our air conditioning unit and I saw all the trash! Every plant that the gardener has put in for me that has come in a little black plastic pot - probably a hundred of them or so - has been carelessly and wantonly tossed into the walled-off area surrounding our air conditioning unit. WTF?!? No no, no no, no. This is not acceptable. I can't even believe I have to tell someone that this isn't where GARBAGE goes!!! Every single morning that you've come here to work one of the first things you do is grab a big black Hefty bag from the garage to fill with the dead leaves and dead grass or whatever it is you're putting in that bag - can't be leaves or they wouldn't be in my flower beds - and can't be dead flowers because you're NOT dead-heading them - but you can't throw the old little plastic pots in that bag? Did you think that I was going to start a nursery or something and reuse all those little black plastic pots to grow petunia's from seeds? Good fucking grief. What is wrong with you guys?!?

And, gee, is it asking too much to hose down the sidewalk to get all the bird shit off of it when you're done watering the yard? Why would I have to repeatedly ask you to hose down the sidewalk that leads to our front door? Do you not see all that nasty bird crap? It's green and black and white and slimy and gross and it's like manuevering through a mine field to not step in it.

So now, first thing this morning, I've made the rules which are going to be followed, in no uncertain terms for G6, via translating done by HB15, and you've got exactly ONE more day to start doing your job G6, or you'll be done working for me. "HB15, does he understand exactly what it is I want done?" "Yes, Madam. He will do it." Yeah. We'll see. Although I will admit to supervising G6 today by pretty much standing over his shoulder just to make sure he gets it. The yard looks really good right now, and there's no bird poop on the sidewalk!

But if HB15 thinks he's off the spot, he is so wrong. Every single time he leaves I find something that pisses me off - and it's little stuff - and I shouldn't care - but I did - OH SO DID - make it very clear that he would not have any problems working for me if he just did what I told him to do, how I want it done, and when I want it done. Is that too much to ask for? Why, oh why, oh why can't I get MY house cleaned MY way and have MY things taken care of the way I want them taken care of???

Unfortunately all of the things I had planned for the day have to be put on hold until tomorrow because I spent the entire morning directly supervising G6 and HB15. If I wasn't right there with G6 - then I was right there with HB15 so that every time he set something down wrong I could gently remind him that THAT'S NOT WHERE THAT GOES or that THAT IS NOT HOW THAT'S DONE!!! All the while I was muttering to myself that I am constantly forced to deal with idiots, that I'm too old for this crap, that I just don't have the patience for it any more, and why, oh why, have I been cursed with being one of THE only perfect people in the world? Arrghhh!!!

HB15 just doesn't seem to get that if he moves the two wood-framed pictures on my bureau on to the bed when he dusts then he needs to put the two wood-framed pictures BACK on the bureau when he's finished dusting. He doesn't get that the shower curtains and liners in both bathrooms DO NOT stay wadded up over the curtain rod when he's done - and he still can't seem to understand that the bath mats go IN FRONT of the tubs! And my make-up mirror gets plugged into the bottom plug - why you're unplugging it anyway when you can simply pick it up to clean the bathroom counter is beyond me - but DO NOT make me tell you ONE MORE TIME to put it in the BOTTOM plug!!! HB15 refuses to put his cleaning products back where he gets them from - and instead will walk off and leave the furniture polish on my bureau [and I have said over and over and over again that the can is NOT to touch the wood!!! what is so damn tough to understand about this?!?]. When he's done with one job he thinks that it's okay to use the same dirty rag to move on to the next - why the hell do you think that I've provided you with three dozen clean rags all neatly folded in thirds with one fold out so that you can easily grab a clean one from the basket when you need it?!? You just used Clorox Clean-Up to wipe off woodwork on that rag - and now you're going to use the same one on my leather furniture?!? Damn!!! The list goes on and on and on. And honestly, if it was just a couple of little things, I guess I wouldn't let them bother me, but gimme a break! This guy has been to my house to clean a dozen times now - today was the THIRTEENTH day - and I've got to go over the same things every time??? No. It's stopping. Right. NOW!!!

Before HB15 left today we had a little chat and I once again said, "I know I talk fast, so if you don't understand what I'm telling you, you need to let me know, right now. All of the things that we went over today? I'm not going to tell you again NOT to put cans on my wood furniture, I'm not going to tell you that you use Clorox Clean-Up to clean messes off the walls and doors - and NOT the leather cleaner, I'm not going to tell you again NOT to leave my shower curtains wadded over the shower rods, I'm not going to tell you again to use different rags, I'm not going to tell you again to take care of everything that you take out - do NOT leave the stool in the living room - that's NOT where you found it, I'm not going to tell you to pick the Kids toys up before sweeping the floors and do NOT ever let me catch you again sweeping the floors around their water bowls without taking the bowls out of their tables and moving them to the counter... Blah blah blah... Do you understand?" "Oh, yes, Madam." Yeah, sure you do. We'll know for sure when he gets here on Wednesday whether or not he's finally understanding.

So who wants to open the betting pool on how much longer HB15 and G6 will last?

[Oh, and I can't forgot to mention that the contracting company called me sometime last week and told me that their rate for a houseboy is going up from 8 Riyals and hour to 12 Riyals an hour beginning May 1st. Am I getting any more for my money? Not as of yet, I'm not! The contracting company may well be done making any more money off me. We'll just have to see how much longer I can take this!!!]

Escaped Employees: If you see them call the police!

In some ways, I find this situation rather amusing. Amusing in the way that says, "Never in my entire life have I ever seen companies that post photos of their employees who elect to or refrain from returning to work." I am certainly not amused that the employees, for whatever their reasons, felt they had to "escape."

Can you imagine if, in the U.S., companies posted photos of employees who didn't show up for work - at whatever job and for whatever reason - every single newspaper in every major city would probably have full pages of notices reporting that "Sue has escaped - she is hungover and didn't show up for her shift at Super Discount World" or "Joe decided he didn't want to deliver pizza's today - he has escaped from Pizza 4 U."

And, although these types of notices may well be common the world over except for in the United States, because I have lived in only two countries [the United States of American and now, here, in The Sandbox] I have no knowledge of whether or not this is common in Italy or Norway or Panama. I can state for a fact, however, that these are not the first photos that have been published in our local paper of workers who have left their employers. But I can't recall seeing an instance before now where the word "escape" has been used. "Abscond," yes; "escape," no.

Does give one reason to wonder though... Why would one have to "escape" from work? Was that person being held in some sort of servitude? Was that person actually chained to his or her proverbial "desk?" "Escape," as defined by Merriam-Webster in its first example says "to get away." Escaping, in my mind, means abruptly leaving something you don't want anything to do with and want to get away from - and fast. So then, why in the world would one woman and three men who were imported from another country, Sri Lanka, where they likely couldn't obtain gainful employment or they wouldn't be here, need "to get away?" Could it be that they knew their jobs were in jeopardy for some legitimate reason and they wanted to find other employment? Could it be that they were being forced to work double-time for minuscule wages? Did they see an opportunity to rob a Brinks truck and decide that they could just hop on a plane and go to Costa Rica for an extended vacation?

It is quite likely that we will never know the reason that these folks decided that they needed to "escape" from their employer. We can just consider ourselves lucky that, for the most part, we have lived in a Country where you don't need to escape - but simply "give your notice" and leave, willingly, in some specified time period to go on to a more lucrative endeavor.

[Photos from Arab News either 02 May 08 or 03 May 08.]