It's Not The Easiest Thing, Living Here

In a few past blog posts I mentioned that I would talk about why living in Saudi Arabia, especially the conservative city of Riyadh, is not the easiest thing to do.  I've actually been meaning to write about this for a while, but I have a major aversion to writing about negative stuff when I feel like I can't put a positive spin on it.  Something about putting a negative vibe out in the world just makes me shudder.  Words have vibrations after all.  Also, I didn't quite feel like I had a good enough grasp on this place to be able to describe what I was having difficulty with to any degree of understanding or detail.  I'm at a point now where I'm seeing the good alongside the not-so-good of Riyadh and I'm also feeling the fogginess of my transition period begin to lift, so here goes another blog entry, just for you, my curious friends and family and random readers.

Difficulty #1 - SLOW:
Everything is slow here.  And, if it's not slow then it just doesn't happen on time because of the rampant inefficiency of the place.  Also, most things that do get done aren't done correctly until the third try.  I have heard many theories as to why things happen slowly and are done inefficiently here.  The main theory is that there's a laziness factor amongst Saudis and the other nationalities that work here.  I don't like to generalize because I think that there are many awesome workers around here.  I believe there's something more to it that I would only be able to figure out if I was working amongst these people.  The bottom line is, if I need anything official done, like a travel visa or a mail order, I can be guaranteed that it will not be completed when I expect it to be.  It will, however, miraculously happen when the pressure is on and it MUST be done.  But, only if it is REALLY needed.  There is a saying here that has the acroynm "IBM."  When you ask a Saudi person to do something the first thing they say is, "Insha'Allah" (if Allah wills it).  This could mean yes, or it could mean no.  And the most frustrating part of it is you can never tell which one it is.  Never.  When what you asked for hasn't been done when it was expected and you ask the Saudi person again they will say, "Boukra" (tomorrow).  When tomorrow comes and it still hasn't been done the Saudi person will say, "Ma'lesh" (Nevermind; take it easy; no worries - in this context it basically means it's probably not going to happen any time soon, if ever.).
Positive spin:
This is a really good way to gain a sense of zen.  Bottom line is, you get taught pretty quickly here that you have very little control over how things get done, when they get done, and that there is no guarantee of them actually getting done.  You just submit a request and hope for the best.  What this does is teach you to sit back and let the Universe handle the rest.  If it is supposed to happen it will happen.  You learn that you won't die if something doesn't get completed within a certain time frame.  Sometimes you even recognize that the time frame within which something gets done is actually better than when you were hoping it to be completed.  And, if you don't relax and let things happen when they will you'll turn into a ball of stress and poor health.  That's not my scene.  I choose the zen route and I'm grateful for the intense practice that I get here.  Luckily, now that I'm making connections with "official" people, I'm starting to gain a sense of the ins and outs of things and am able to have things completed a little more quickly.  Not because I'm manipulating the system, but simply because there are more efficient routes that I wasn't originally aware of.

Difficulty #2 - Lack of Standards:
This kind of relates to Difficulty #1, and it is the lack of customer service here.  I often get the feeling that nobody in the service industry in Saudi Arabia really cares about the needs of the customer.  I know this isn't true and I know that there are places and workers who have standards of service and workmanship that they proudly stand behind.  I just have to look REALLY hard for them.  Luckily my friend, Munira, has an amazing repertoire of knowledge as to where these stores and people are so I'm doing okay in that department.  Before I met Munira, however, I was often appalled at how nobody really cared to help me get what I needed when I was paying them money.  I walked away from a number of purchases simply because I felt I was being treated poorly.  I've also gotten very angry, a few times, with some people who were in a position of power (security guards at my compound) who were being very unreasonable with me.  I felt terrible for getting worked up enough to get angry at someone.  I am the last person to even consider raising my voice in any circumstance and I pride myself in knowing when to stop talking and breathe when the pressure and frustration is high.  Therefore, this is a good example of how exasperating people who work in the service industry and/or public realm here can be.
Positive Spin:
I'm learning how to advocate for myself here.  I've experienced two extremes on how to handle situations where I could be "played"; one extreme where I am my typical polite Canadian self and allowing people to take advantage of the fact that I will let things slide simply to avoid confrontation; to the other extreme where I am riled up to the point of anger and using force and influence to get what I want (Westerners are often given more respect than other nationalities here and it is something that can be taken advantage of).  I'm coming to find a good balance now where I can be assertive while using warmth and kindness paired with strength and knowledge to stand up for myself and get what I am warranted.  I am coming to know the subtle ways of arguing my point while allowing others to feel like they are heard and understood.  I'm also learning when it is worthwhile to actually just let something go.

Difficulty #3 - Prayer Times:
Running errands isn't a simple task of getting into a car and heading to the grocery store or mall.  Saudi Arabia has times when everything is shut down for Muslims to practice their prayers.  I'm all for giving people the chance to practice their religion, so I don't begrudge them this at all.  I think it's great that they don't have to worry about leaving their post to go pray.  But I can't deny the fact that it is uber inconvenient for me that at approximately 12:00, 3:30, 6:00, and 8:00 everyday all stores and restaurants are shut down for 20-30 minutes.  This means that I have to calculate the best time to head off to go shopping and rush through a purchase if I want to finish up at a store before prayer is called.  I've had many times where my shopping trip was extended by a good 30-45 minutes simply because I miscalculated how long it would take for me to finish up.  Many times I've also been locked IN at either a restaurant or a grocery store because I decided I was done and ready to go during the period of prayer (restaurants and grocery stores don't kick you out the way other retail establishments do...they simply allow you to remain inside to continue shopping or eating while the clerks and waiters go off to pray).
Positive Spin:
I love the call to prayer or Adhan.  It's so ethereal and beautiful to hear the Muezzin sing out the announcement that it's time for the Muslims to close up shop and get themselves situated for praying.  You can hear it wherever you go because it's announced over loudspeaker throughout the city and in all buildings.  Here's a cool recording of it I found on YouTube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlLaUCAQlQQ

Difficulty #4 - Not Allowed to Drive:
 I'm not the type of girl to spout feminist debate and rant about the inequality of women, but not being allowed to drive?  In the 21st century??  Come ON!!  I knew this was something I would be dealing with when I moved here.  I figured I would just roll with it, and I have done so.  The thing is, the longer I stay here the more not being able to drive irks me and wears on my patience.  It really is incredibly hard for me to not have the freedom to just get up and go whenever I want.  I am an extremely independent person and, while I have amazing male friends who are generous with offers to drive me to get groceries and do other chores, it kills me to have to rely on them.  I can get drivers, which helps in the independence department, but they need to be scheduled.  If I don't plan far enough ahead there's a good chance I won't be able to get one.  If I can get a driver, many of them have no idea where I want to go either because they can't speak English very well or they simply have no clue how to get to the place I am aiming to go to.  So, a simple desire to just get something done, for example, like a picture custom framed, turns into a big mess because I'm not sure of an actual place to go get this done and my driver has no clue what I mean by the word "frame."  Along with this, some drivers scare the crap out of me.  The driving here, in general, is scary.  Add to that a driver who has no sense of what defensive driving is and seems to think that weaving in and out of traffic is the best way to get somewhere and you've got a girl who's almost in tears wishing that she could just drive her own frickin' car.  Going back to the many drivers who never know where the place is that I want to go; I would gladly tell them how to get there but I don't typically know either.  If I could drive my own car, however, I would happily go exploring the city and get familiar with the place.  A friend once said to me that she has been here for over a year and still doesn't feel any connection to the city.  She said that, when she leaves her compound, she feels like a visitor to Riyadh.  I've been here for over nine months now and I completely agree with her.  I know that there are some amazing places to see here, right in the city, and I have no way to truly get to know them.  It's not like this city is walking/biking/public transit friendly.  The only way to really explore Riyadh is to drive around and I can guarantee you that, unless I have my own private driver, I am not going to be able to do this.  Bottom line, the not-being-allowed-to-drive situation makes me sad.  I live in such an exotic and interesting place and I am likely never going to get to know it the way it deserves to be known.
Positive Spin:
This is a hard one for me to put a positive spin on.  Probably because the sores created by being prevented from driving are always so raw for me.  One thing it does is make me more organized when it comes to what I need to do and when I need to do it.  When my fridge is almost empty, I schedule a good two hours for a trip to the grocery store and stick to that schedule.  When I have supplies for therapy at work to buy, I research where I have to go to get them before I even call a driver (which means, yet again, relying on someone else to help me because the stores here have crap for websites).  And, when it comes down to it, I am learning to simply take many deep breaths and recognize that I may just not get things done that don't desperately need to be done.  This, essentially, means that if it isn't getting groceries, buying therapy materials, or getting to the indoor climbing wall then it probably won't happen.

Difficulty #5 - Language Barrier:
Oh my gawd, I am so ridiculously bad at learning a second language.  Combine that with the fact that almost everyone here can speak at least a little bit of English and are always wanting opportunities to practice and you have one horrible Arabic learner.  Plain and simple, I'm a lazy English-language speaker.  I am not proud of this.  Yet, this fact still does not motivate me to learn Arabic.  I will admit that, even though I have learned how to say left, right, straight, and stop in Arabic I can't for the life of me remember what those words are right now.  And these are words that I need to direct my drivers (see Difficulty #4 above)!  I am well aware that I make life more difficult for myself here because of my lack of Arabic language knowledge.  I really can't give any insight as to why I am still not motivated to work harder at learning Arabic.  The simple fact of the matter is, I just have no desire right now to put the energy into this task.  If anyone has any tips on how to get my ass in gear in this department, please feel free to share them in the comments below.
Positive Spin:
I have very quiet and peaceful drives to and from work because my drivers speak basically no English.  When they do try to speak to me in English and I try to speak to them in Arabic it often turns into a hilarious mess and we get a good giggle from it.  And, for some odd reason, when I do try to speak Arabic the people I'm speaking to absolutely love that I try and seem to find me endearing because of it.  Then, forgivingly, they break into speaking English with me to put me out of my misery.

Difficulty #6 - Friendliness Being Taken the Wrong Way:
I'm a friendly person.  I like to smile and make the people around me comfortable.  I am not someone who gets her way through being forceful or blunt.  "You catch more flies with honey" is my motto.  This has gotten me into some uncomfortable situations with men who have been assigned to help me with various tasks at work and who also happen to be single.  For me, simple conversation and small talk that occurs amongst business tasks is just that, simple conversation and small talk.  I've come to realize that, for a single man in Saudi Arabia who does not live on a compound, this type of interaction indicates that I must be aiming to marry him.  For example, mentioning that I love animals and talking about my past equine endeavors when a particular single man asked about the picture of my horse on my computer screen turned into me receiving about 20 pictures via text of this man's family farm's animal residents.  Later, after watching a movie in which an actress reminded him of me, I received a YouTube link to the theme love song to that movie.  I've also had a driver call me outside work hours to tell me, in extremely broken English, where he lives in case I care to visit.  These are just a few examples of the uncomfortable and mainly amusing situations that I've found myself in as a result of being friendly to the men here.
Positive Spin:
This has forced me to recognize a cultural divide and to shift my perspectives rather than to simply get annoyed.  There was nothing creepy about these men.  The movie-theme-texter was, and still is, a great person to work with and very reliable.  He simply isn't used to dealing with women.  A friend of mine explained that these guys live in apartment buildings that only house single men.  They are only allowed in the "singles" sections of restaurants where no women are allowed.  Men are not allowed to talk to women in public unless the women are their sister or mother or daughter.  They, essentially, can only ever associate with other single men.  And, if they happen to be living in Saudi Arabia but aren't Saudi, they may not even have the opportunity for a marriage to be arranged for them.  So, when they get the chance to talk to a woman and she's single their brains shift into a gear that resembles a thirteen year old boy who went to a boy's only boarding school all his young life and suddenly is given a chance to study with a girl.  These men have no clue what to do and how to read signals.  I, of course, forgive them this and have learned to be more clear and precise and less "friendly" when I work with them.  I've also become an expert in dealing with the awkward let-down, even though some of my friends seem to think I'm still too friendly in these circumstances.  Regardless, it has made for some funny and innocent stories. 

Difficulty #7 - The Caste System:
I have a really hard time with this one.  In this country it seems that the only way to get respect here is to come from an affluent country and to have an embassy that will back you up when you're in a bind.  Equality for all is certainly not an aspect of the mentality of the typical Saudi Arabian (keep in mind that there are many Saudi Arabians that are respectful and kind to all people no matter where they come from).  I have worked amongst some amazing and capable women and have dealt with some very sweet and helpful men from countries like the Philippines, India, Pakistan, Sudan, Egypt, as well as others.  These people, more often than not, get paid much less than a westerner would get paid in the same job, get placed in housing that is far below the standard that a westerner is placed in, work hours much longer than a westerner would ever be expected to work, and are manipulated in ways that a westerner would never ever experience.  It kills me that I get weekends to do as I please while the people I know from these countries are lucky to get one day to themselves every 10 days and then still have to get written permission from their "sponsors" in order to leave their apartment building.  This is just one small example of how much better I have it here compared to the people I know from less affluent countries.
Positive Spin:
I am so utterly aware of how lucky I am to be from Canada.  The gratitude I have for the opportunities that I have been given just simply for being born in Canada is immense.  I am also so glad that living in Saudi Arabia has opened my eyes to the ridiculous acts against human rights that occur in this world.  I know that I still don't even know the half of it.  Knowing what I do know, however, makes me want to help in ways that I am capable of doing so.  I'm still learning and beginning to recognize where I can play a part in this huge issue of inequality.  In time, I know I'll figure out what I can do that gels the best with my abilities.

On that super bummer, yet interesting, note I will end my list of "Difficulties in Saudi Arabia."  I'd like to say that this list is comprehensive.  It isn't.  I could go on, but I fear doing so would put me on a road to depression that I really would like to avoid experiencing.  All in all, this place is an amazing learning experience and I know that personal evolution is happening at a rate that I can't even come close to comprehending at this point in time.  I've come to learn that, if you want to grow and become a better person, challenge yourself and place yourself outside your comfort zone.  I am definitely doing that by living in Saudi Arabia. 

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Four - A Love Affair With Light and Colour

 ...continued from My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture

It has been established that Paris is a great city whose downfalls are greatly outweighed by it's positive points.  There is something, however, that really makes Paris amazing and guarantees a return visit by me.  Paris holds in its grasp the art of the Impressionists and, more specifically, Monet. 

Monet's art is something I was introduced to a long time ago, but I had no idea the effect that he would have on me in the future.  I always knew that I enjoyed paintings.  I can't remember the first time I noticed the actual beauty that exists in paintings nor the feelings that looking at something beautiful on canvas gave me, but, for a long time I had an affinity for certain paintings that I came across in books, on the internet, and via other media.  I didn't know why and I really had no interest in figuring it out.  I just always knew that certain artists, especially one named Claude Monet, had painted some pieces that I really liked to look at.  Edgar Degas and Pierre-Auguste Renoir were also two cool painters whose works had a tendency to cause me to pause when flipping through pages and websites.  I had no idea that all of these guys were members of the "French Impressionist Era" club.

our trusty tour bikes

Considering my un-investigated enjoyment of Monet's art, it made sense that, when I came across a tour by Fat Tire Bikes involving a train ride to the French countryside plus bike riding, plus a visit to Monet's garden, I would feel the pull to sign up for it right away.  It was great idea; a taste of a cool painter, whose works I always enjoyed viewing, along with two of my favourite things in life, countryside and biking.  Little did I know that this tour would be a catalyst to an entirely new experience for me.  One that involved a fair chunk of learning and a whole lot of falling in love with art.

water lilies at Monet's garden

The tour was hosted by a guy named Kit who would probably have caused me to completely abandon my interest in biology and turn into an art history nerd if he had been my junior high arts teacher.  I hung on his every word and was even compelled to write some of what he said down, simply because I didn't want to forget his best "quotables."  One thing that hit home for me was his observation that, "we respond emotionally to light."  For any of you who've taken high school physics (and actually payed attention) you know that all colours are a reflection of various wavelengths of light.  It turns out that the colours, the light, that the Impressionists used in many of their paintings, especially Monet's landscapes, are colours that reflect wavelengths that emotionally resonate with me.  I learned a lot about art and the Impressionists and Monet from Kit.  Too much to go into detail here.  What is most important about my time on Kit's tour was that I became armed with a knowledge about art and Monet that would point me in a direction to enjoy paintings in a way that I knew other people experienced but I, personally, had never accessed before.

Blue Water Lilies by Monet at Musee D'Orsay

Soon after the tour I headed to the Musee L'Orangerie where eight (out of approximately 250) of Monet's paintings from "Series des Nympheas" (a series of paintings featuring the water lilies in his garden) are located.  Keep in mind that I was armed with knowledge of Monet's past, his career, and had just seen his beautiful garden in person.  The eight paintings portray his pond and water lilies from various perspectives and elements of light.  These are BIG paintings, approximately 18 feet long and 6 feet tall (totally my own estimates...nothing factual here) and they surround you in two oval shaped rooms, four paintings per room.

As soon as I stepped into the first room I felt at home.  The colours of Monet's paintings are the colours of happiness for me.  While simply standing in front of "Reflets verts" I felt myself slip into a zone of peace that I've only ever felt during deep meditation.  And this was in a room filled with people chattering away about the effects of the brush strokes and the thickness and layers of paint that Monet used.  Needless to say, Monet had an effect on me.  When I wasn't completely mesmerized I spent my time stepping closer to Monet's paintings to see the splotches of paint and colour placed in ways that appeared so random.  Then I would step back and watch as those splatterings of colour transform into an actual image; a beautiful image of water, trees, flowers, and light.

water lily pond green harmony by Monet at Musee D'Orsay

The art experience was not yet over.  I still had Musee D'Orsay to visit where I could experience more of Monet and was able to check out all of his Impressionist friends' work.  I happily ventured up to the corner gallery on the fifth floor of the museum.  It was here that I saw Monet's "water lily pond" and had the most amazing  feelings of joy well up inside of me that I found myself holding back tears.  Art, apparently, had become an intense experience for me.  It gave me a rush that I never had before and I was addicted.  I stood for ages in front of one painting after another not noticing my growling belly nor my sore and tired feet.  I was completely captivated.  I was on a high floating from one painting to the next.


It's amazing to be able to walk amongst paintings knowing that the people I had learned about from Kit (as well as from a book about the Impressionists that I bought while at Monet's garden) had actually touched these pieces.  It was THEIR brush strokes on THAT canvas.  It was THEIR minds that decided to put THIS line here and use THAT angle there.  These paintings were reflections of how the artists perceived their own worlds; reflections of the scene that was directly before their very eyes at a point in time in history.  So, essentially, I was entering the world that they were living in when they created that painting.  Not only was I seeing pieces of their worlds, I knew a bit of what had been happening in their lives during the period in which they were painting them.  I understood the significance of why they used such dark colours for the background, or the reason there was a dog in the corner of a painting, or why their model was posed in such a way.

the bridge at Monet's water lily pond

This is what experiencing art is all about.  To lose myself in a painting and then step back and let my mind wander into the world of the artist and imagine what it may have been like to brush his or her paint onto the canvas one loving stroke at a time.  This, for me, is Paris. The Impressionists.  The art.  The rush.  The high.  I will definitely be going back to see it and feel it again.

astride my awesome Fat Tire Tours bike

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture

...continued from My Work'ation: Part Two - These Are My Favourite London'y Things

I will confess that, even with good friends in Riyadh who are from France, the French intimidate me.  That, plus having begrudgingly left the robust happiness of London and my British friends who had spoiled me, created apprehension about being in Paris.  As much as I hate to admit it, I wasn't doing a very good job of even giving Paris a chance to woo me when I first arrived.

Musee D'Orsay

I do have a miniscule justification for this (okay, absolutely tiny almost non-existent justification).  Anyone who's been in Paris, even my French friends themselves, will admit that there's a coolness to the city.  Parisians flow on a river of non-chalance.  Nothing seems to be impressive to them.  They appreciate life and all it has to offer, but don't feel the need to get excited about it.  Something could happen that would make me want to jump up and down with glee, clapping my hands and giggling like a little girl; a Parisian would react by simply saying, "That's good," with slightly raised eyebrows and one nod of his head.  Sometimes I think that all those cigarettes they smoke are laced with a strange version of marijuana that makes them exist in perpetual chilled out aloofness.

Inside the Louvre

This is not a bad thing.  It can be a little unnerving, especially for me considering that I resonate with people who exude warmth.  To be around a culture that is more reserved with their warmth causes me to have a hard time relating.  When I can't get a "read" on people I have a tendency to avoid them.  Well, that and the language barrier doesn't help either.

At the gardens of Chateau de Versailles

I wondered how I was going to handle this challenge.  I was concerned that it would hamper my ability to find the appeal of Paris.  Turns out that it put me in a perfect position to be motivated to take advantage of tours.  So, off I went on adventures to Notre Dame, the Louvre, Musee D'Orsay, Musee L'Orangerie, and Jardin des Tuileries.  I roamed around the city on a tour bus.  I visited Chateau de Versailles.  I even traveled to Monet's garden in Giverny.  I learned so much French history and took in so much art during my weekends in France that I might as well have been adopted by Paris.  I was ready to buy a beret and start smoking.  The only thing stopping me was my inability to speak French...oh, and the warm versus cool personality factor.  Not sure if I could master a cool demeanor.

LaDuree - French Pastry makers extraordinaire

While I was definitely getting familiar with Paris' past, I still felt uncomfortable with it's people.  Okay, so maybe not all of it's people.  To be honest, 85% of the Parisians that I encountered were actually quite friendly.  The restaurant waiters make up the other 15%.  That did not prevent me from eating, however, and what I ate was bread.  Those of you who know me well know that I don't eat a lot of bread.  In fact, I tend to not eat it at all.  With all the hype about Paris' bread I had to at least try it.  Oh, excuse me a moment............. ah, okay, that's better.  Sorry, I had to pause and grab a napkin to wipe the drool off of my chin.  French bread is AMAZING!  Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.  My favourite part of the day was to sip a cappuccino while eating pain au chocolate.  My second favourite part of the day was to sip a cappuccino while eating a croissant.  My third favourite part of the day was to sip a glass of wine while eating a french baguette smothered in creamy butter.  Of all the adjectives that are within this brain of mine, I could not begin to properly describe the deliciousness of the bread in France.  I don't ever want to eat bread anywhere else but in France for fear it may hamper my ability to remember my experience with French bread.
 

Denise, Scott, and I enjoying wine at the Eiffel Tower

The eating factor in Paris did not happen alone, luckily for me.  Even so far away from a population of people that I'm comfortable with, I still managed to connect, with old classmates in fact.  It still amazes me to think of the serendipity that placed me in Paris on the very weekend that my friends, Scott and Denise, were visiting on their anniversary.  It was such a strange and amazing feeling to be sitting at a restaurant, in Paris, chatting about the fun parties we had back in Halifax and the "goings-on" of all our old mutual classmates.  I felt like a piece of my history - the person I was before becoming the person I am - was sitting there with me while Scott, Denise, and I updated each other on our lives.  And then, when Scott suggested we buy a bottle of wine and drink it, picnic style, on the lawns in front of the Eiffel tower I realized that I couldn't have asked for a better night in Paris.  Top it off with seeing the tower's light show at midnight and it was yet again confirmed that I have an amazingly fantastic life.

Daniel and Chelsea enjoying pear cider on the train

The friend connections did not end there, though.  Heading off to Monet's garden in Giverny I only expected a nice day of bike riding and flower smelling.  It wasn't long, however, that I realized I had some cool people surrounding me on this tour that were worth getting to know.  Daniel and Chelsea were my English-speaking saviors after a week of being surrounded by Parisian natives.  Sadly, we had a very short period that we would all be in Paris at the same time.  So, only one night of revelry at a Paris restaurant was to be spent together.  We made it a good one with far too many politically incorrect jokes and far too loud bursts of laughter, for the Parisian's taste, at least.  Meeting Chelsea and Daniel was definitely a cherry on my Euro-trip sundae and I would've loved to have had more time to get to know them better.  Alas, it was not to be and so the rest of my time in Paris was spent taking in the sites to the fullest extent, albeit alone. 

A view of Paris courtesy of Denise

It wasn't so bad to be in Paris by myself.  It really is an amazing city and it's easy to get lost in it's esthetics.  The French certainly know how to take a city and make it beautiful.  I'm not typically one who can look at something man-made and consider it stunning, but Paris definitely came close.  Just standing on one of the many bridges crossing the Seine I would get a feeling of openness and expansiveness and yet there are buildings all around.  The city planners back in the day knew what they were doing.  While standing in Place de la Concorde (the square where Marie Antoinette and King Louis XVI were beheaded) I can look to the east and see the Jardin des Tuileries and the Louvre beyond that; I look west and I can see in the distance L'Arc de Triomphe; I look north and see two stately and identical stone buildings separated by a road that takes you to Eglise de la Madeliene, a pompous looking yet beautiful church that Napolean had built; I look south beyond the Pont de la Concorde (a bridge that crosses the Seine) and see the prominent building that houses the French National Assembly.  This is just one example of the symmetry in the city that is almost hidden until you stop to take notice.  Without even taking pause, however, you can feel the balance of it all.

L'arc de Triomphe - courtesy of Denise

Paris bridges - courtesy of Denise

It is odd for me to feel balance and calm when I'm in a city.  Typically, I can only gain a true state of peace when I'm in the forest or when I'm rocking a solid meditation session.  So, when I felt a sense of intense peace in Paris I was, essentially, blown away.  It wasn't Paris' architecture that did it for me, though.  It was the art.  But, that's a whole other story to be saved for the next blog entry.

Stay tuned for My Work'ation: Part Four - A Love Affair With Light and Colour

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Two - These are My Favourite London'y Things

…continued from My Work'ation: Part One - A Sad State of Mind

I had been in London for five days before my weekend began.  During those five days, while traveling around the city working in parks with my little student and finding playgroups for him to attend, I was taking note of the sites that I might want to check out later.  Our driver, whom I’ll call Mr. N, was fantastic.  He called me darling every time I asked him a question.  “Okay, darling.” He would say when I asked him to drive us to a certain park.  “Yes, darling.” When I asked him if that was Queen Victoria’s statue. “The changing of the guard, darling.” When I watched, fascinated, as the Beefeaters marched towards Buckingham palace.  Mr. N. was more than happy to explain to me where I needed to go for anything I wanted to do.  So, when the weekend arrived I had my plans all set out.  Tower of London Saturday morning, St. Paul’s Cathedral Saturday afternoon, check out a London band at a nearby pub Saturday night, brunch with my old friend, Paul, on Sunday, followed by a bike tour of the city.  First thing was first, though.  It was Friday night and Bonnie wanted a beer.

St. Paul's Cathedral peeking out from a London Alleyway

I asked the doorman what pub nearby was a good one to visit.  I specified the need for some live music to give me something to do while enjoying my beer.  I wasn’t fond of the idea of looking like a lonely sap nursing a beer at the bar on a Friday night.  He pointed me in the direction of a piano bar, which wasn’t exactly what I was aiming for, but I figured that it couldn’t hurt to at least check it out.

While walking to the bar I passed by pub after pub, each one with a large group of loud and laughing Londoners milling about the front having a cigarette or, as with one gentleman in particular, urinating on the street light pole.  It was apparent that the local drinking begins directly after work hours; therefore I was four hours behind in the beverage-consuming department.

I found my target piano bar and was not disappointed.  The entertainment was talented and the crowd was happy and in a dancing mood.  I ordered my beer and leaned against the bar to watch the antics.  It was an interesting perspective as I’m usually part of the dancing and fun-having crowd.  I didn’t realize how entertaining it could be for on-lookers.  It wasn’t long, however, that a sweetly smiling guy came up to me,  stretched out his hand, and asked me to join him on the dance floor.  Off I went to become one with the London merrymakers. 

The dancer in question was named Ravi and our dancing soon turned into some great conversation.  A friendship was quickly bonded.  Unfortunately, Ravi’s carriage was turning into a pumpkin all too soon and he had to leave the revels early.  He promised to show me around London while I was in town and then was off.  It didn’t take long for me to get myself back on the dance floor, however, continuing to make new friends and insuring that my fun evening lasted early into the morning.

London Bridge

As it happened, the plans to be a true tourist in London did not turn out very well.  Since I was dragging my tired danced out ass back to the hotel only a few hours before the Tower of London tour was to begin, that idea was awash.  I did make it to a few cool historical places but I discovered that London was going to be a place of spending time with dear friends and socializing.  Yes, this may have been because my weekend socializing often meant I was waking up too late and in a state of health not conducive to touring around historical buildings for hours on end.  I think, however, that it had more to do with the fact that my heart and mind were filled with friendly connections and kindnesses that tour guides can’t quite give you.

Lichfield Cathedral in the English countryside

Afternoon tea with Emily

Something happened during the time I spent with my friends in England, both old and new.  Between my excursions to the lovely borough that Paul lives in; and a weekend jaunt to the English countryside to visit my friend, Emily, and her husband, Paul; and the post-work evening meanderings around London proper with Ravi I came to realize that London was giving me the feeling of familiarity that I get when I’m home.  I was given the opportunity to experience London, and England, as if I were a part of it and not just a visitor.  The connections with my friends allowed me to connect with London.  I no longer felt so overwhelmed by the crowds of people.  Instead, I learned where the quiet boroughs of the city were.  I also learned the benefit of the weekend escape to the country.  A little hustle and bustle in the crowds were bearable knowing that, when work was finished, I could find my happy place with Ravi by my side in the comfort of my friendship.

Yes, I fell in love with London.  I could spend three blog entries detailing each aspect of that city that makes me love it and another three to describe the beauty of the English countryside.  I will not do that but I will do something to give you a taste of what I love about England.  I transformed a familiar little “ditty” on my last day in London due to being giddy with the happiness that being in England had helped me to find again.  Please forgive me, as I was a tad sentimental. You will understand when you read on.

My Favourite London’y Things

(To the tune of The Sound Of Music's "Favourite Things")

Getting intimate with the locals

Buildings with gargoyles and gorgeous cathedrals.
Train rides and tube rides; public bikes to pedal.
Statues and monuments for all eyes to see.
They’re why London is my favourite city.

Hot men in crisp suits with great shoes and nice hair.
Parks filled with animals and bird songs floating through the air.
An accent that pulls at my fragile heart strings.
These are my favourite London’y things.

History that humbles my short existence.
Boroughs with green parks and fabulous substance.
English countryside and quaint towns so sweet.
This is why England has made me happy.

When the sandbox
Makes me crazy
I'll just get away,
By simply going online and booking a plane
To London then I’ll feel sane!

Stay tuned for "My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture" where I tell you about my experience with Paris...oui, oui...ooh la la!!

In Joy,

Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part One - A Sad State of Mind

Any of you who've been following my blog may have noticed a significant decrease (*cough* non-existence *cough*) of blog entries during the summer months.  Well, to explain, I've been far away from my writing head-space and eye-ball deep in traveling.  A little for myself, and a lot with work.

I would go into the details of my vacation home to my beloved British Columbia, but this blog is about my adventures in Saudi Arabia.  Plus, many of you already know the ins and outs of the fabulous'ness that is British Columbia so you don't need my descriptions of it.  I suppose this logic kind of negates the writing of my travels while working with the sweet little boy that is my student, since I was not in Saudi Arabia per say.  I was, however, traveling as a result of the reason I'm living in Saudi Arabia,  so there is my Arabian connection and now writing about my time in London and Paris has been justified.

The awesomeness I left back home.

Getting ready for five weeks in Europe was interesting.  I'm not talking about packing for the trip, I'm talking about my state of mind.  I had traveled for 24 hours and skipped over ten time zones only to be back in Riyadh for seven days before flying to London with the family I work for.  On top of that, my supervisor was in Riyadh for our scheduled "individualized education plan" review, updates, and consulting that equated a week of 12 hour days.  I was running on fumes.  This would've been fine, but remember that I had just left my world of mountains and forests and biking and the most fantastic group of fun and caring friends imaginable.  I had experienced the greatest actualization of love that is my home and I was required to leave it.  I was desperately sad and my exhaustion was driving me into a hole of despair.  Suffice it to say, looking back, I do believe I was in a mild state of depression.

I most certainly was not able to look forward to traveling.  I wasn't looking forward to anything, really.  I was also hard on myself for being like this because, ever since I was little, I had dreamed of visiting England.  Jane Austen is one of my favourite authors. Shakespeare delighted me during high school. I have watched almost every British romantic comedy filmed from 1995 and onwards at least twice and maybe half of the British dramas.  I won't even get in to the amount of British television that I've watched.  I actually used to read my study notes in a British accent when preparing for tests and exams because it made me feel smarter.  Now I was finally visiting London, and would have weekends off to enjoy it, and I couldn't have cared less.

What was contained in my lost luggage.

We arrived in London and, while I could definitely appreciate that it was cool to be there, I noticed my tendency to highlight more of the negative things about the city than the positive things.  This was not good.  This was not me.  I am a happy person, yet hopelessness and sadness were starting to feel like the norm for me.  And then a saving grace in the form of a bad situation occurred.  My luggage had been lost.  I had no clothes besides what I was wearing and no toiletries whatsoever.  All I had with me was my computer and, thankfully, my work notes and therapy plans.  My luggage was predicted to make it to me in four days.  Shit, shitty, shit.

This, for me, was a wake up call.  For a long time I have believed that shit-storms in life are not a result of the world coming down on you.  Instead, they are a result of your own negative attitudes and energy coming back to bite you in the ass.  That's what my luggage getting lost was; the universe telling me to start thinking more positively or more crappy situations were going to be paying me a visit.

Let's be honest here.  How horrible was my situation anyway?  Losing my luggage was really not that big of a deal.  I was staying in a luxury hotel just down the road from Trafalgar Square, two blocks away from Westminster Abbey, and a ten minute walk away from Buckingham Palace.  AND I was getting paid to be there.  My life was (and is) flipping amazing and I was whining because I had to spend another six months away from home.  I felt the need to walk outside and ask the hotel's doorman to give me a swift and severely hard kick in the ass.

I didn't think the doorman would have actually gone through with it so, instead, I started to ignore the negative thoughts that floated into my brain.  I began to take pause and remind myself of all the goodness that is part of my life and the world around me.  Most importantly, I started to see the awesomeness that is London.  Then my first weekend off arrived.

I'll tell you all about London in Part Two - These Are My Favourite London'y Things.  Until then...

In Joy,
Bonnie

Experience and Freedom - Why Ask For Anything More?

My reason for moving to Saudi Arabia was mainly to pay off my student loans and credit card.  Paying for undergrad and grad school is an expensive venture.  And my loan payments were eating up a ton of my disposable income.  Okay, let's be honest.  They were eating up all of my disposable income, hence my credit card bill.  So, the thought of becoming debt free and using all the money I typically set aside for loan payments to buy the things I've always wanted was extremely appealing to me.  Now that I'm here in Saudi Arabia I'm actually paying off my loans.  It is an awesome experience.  There's nothing quite like the feeling of slapping a solid chunk of money on a loan, reducing it by 1/4 of what it was at one fell swoop.  But there's a realization that I'm coming to about the possibilities I will have for my life when I'm debt free.  Through discussions with my friends whom experience a debt free life themselves, as well as things I've been reading via recommendations from these friends, I'm recognizing that my life isn't going to gain a lot of abundance simply because I can buy more things.  There's more to life than "things."

I'm typically not a materialistic person.  I'm not necessarily a collector of "things" and certainly not someone who goes out looking for the best gadget or the newest design.  Geezus, now that I think of it, before moving to Riyadh I went approximately two years without buying new clothes (not counting the new bike shorts, wool t-shirts, and snowboarding pants that were a necessity for the sports I love).  Outside of buying paintings from my fav artist and friend, Ting Yuen, (I love surrounding myself in beauty), the things I bought were always required for something I loved to do.  I spend money on the activities I love that give me the experiences that I crave.  Why I got it in my head that more money meant I would buy more things is beyond me.

It's not things that I'm going to get out of being debt free.  And it's not even having money in the bank to buy stuff that I need in order to do the things I love; although that is something I'm looking forward to doing.  Being debt free is going to give me something more.  It's going to give me freedom.  As many of my friends and family know, I am not the type of person who can commit.  I've soul searched many-a-day-and-night and still can't comprehend the idea of getting married.  Children, not a chance (and believe me, I've thought long and hard about this one).  When someone invites me to a party that's five days away, I only say, "maybe" or, "I'll see how I feel."  I am well aware of the fact that change is the only constant in life.  I embrace change.  I love it, in fact.  I love flowing with change and seeing where it takes me.  I've never failed to be in love with the life that change brings to me, no matter how difficult the transition period may be.  So, committing to someone or something doesn't make a lot of sense to me.  Committing, to me, just means I'm putting myself into a position to resist change when it comes along.

When it comes to debt, I'm beginning to see it as a commitment.  It's a commitment to being required to do some sort of job in order to pay it off.  When the debt load is high, it's a great situation for making me feel handcuffed to a particular job that may pay well, but isn't necessarily what I love to do.  Or maybe it's a job that I loved at one time, but through the inevitable changeability of life, I developed new desires for new experiences in my career.  Or maybe it's a job that I still love, but I want to reduce my workload or modify the way I do my job.  Debt isn't very good at making it easy to take the risks that many life transitions require.  When opportunities arise and my heart's desire and my intuition start to guide me to new and wonderful life adventures I want the freedom to be able to do so.  Being debt free will allow this to happen.

Ah, but I must get back to that extra money that I will have in my pocket when I finish up here in KSA.  Because, with freedom from debt, I will be able to pay for some cool things if I so desire.  I LOVE being outdoors and physically active, seeing new countryside where I can do my favourite activities, and doing all this with friends who love the same things.  Having extra money available will allow me to purchase whatever it is that I require to experience the life that I love and give me more opportunities to share these experiences with friends (without the post-purchase-depression that I used to experience because, let's face it, I still did these things in the past... I just did it while adding more to my debt-load with my handy-dandy credit card).  Yes, the items that I purchase will often be expensive (my dream mountain bike is $7,500), and the places I go to have these experiences can be pricey too (hitting up Sunpeaks, Silver Star, and Whistler bike parks are not cheap ventures).  But what buying these things does for me is create the experiences that bring the feeling of physical and spiritual fulfillment and the feeling of true love that being around friends and like minded people bring into my life.

That's what is important, isn't it?  Feeling the love of others and being truly and honestly fulfilled by life in general.  I've had an inkling about this for a while now, but it really hit home when I read this article "How to Buy Happiness".  Essentially it says much of what I've been saying here, but backs it up with research.  Oh how I love when science and philosophy combine, and in such a beautiful way.  A talk on TED that I watched recently by Adam Baker called "Sell Your Crap. Pay Your Debt. Do What You Love." backed up my thoughts as well.  Almost to an exact degree actually.  Nothing quite like having your philosophical inklings being validated by someone who has already been there. (/high five to me!)

Yes, life is going to be good when I get back to the world that I love.  In the meantime, however, I've got to do some hard work.  Life is not so easy here in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.  I'll get into that more in an upcoming blog entry.  I have had a hard time transitioning to the idea of working in a place that can be so hard on the soul; especially when I had it so good back home in Canada.  Luckily, my friend Mark (or maybe it was his girlfriend, Krista) posted a quote on Facebook about a month ago that really hit home with me.  I can't remember the exact quote, but it basically said that in order to reap, you must sow.  Simple and to the point and something I already knew, but somehow forgot.  So, this is my time to sow.  I've been here for five months and, I will quickly admit, the number of hard times have been evened out with good times thanks to my Riyadh friends.  Knowing that I have a life of freedom and grand experiences ahead of me will make all of the sowing I do here in Riyadh well worth it.

In Joy,
Bonnie

Animals. In Saudi Arabia. Enough said.

I am an animal lover.  The fact that, from the time I was able to think about what I wanted to do when I "grew up," I wanted to become a veterinarian is an indication of this (only to change my mind when, during undergrad, I lived with a girl who was in vet school and realized I would rather simply love animals than deal with all the things veterinarians deal with).  For me, though, my affinity for animals and the sense of peace and clarity that I receive when I'm with them is a greater indication of my love for them.  As a result, I've had an animal in my life ever since I can remember.

My family owned a big beautiful St. Bernard, Prince, when I was growing up.  But I was three years old when he came along, so I really didn't play a role in caring for him until it was about time for him to head off into doggie-heaven.  My first true animal-based responsibility was my horse, Gavalanche.  Then I moved away for university, Gav in tow, and got myself a cat, Smith.  Eventually I moved across the country (Gav having passed away by this time.  She was a sweet old girl who's time had come.), Smith in tow.  Through an act of kindness, I fostered a litter of kittens for the SPCA out of which another addition to my fur-family, Jared, came along.  Let's not forget that I bought myself a new horse, Diamond at this time as well.  Smith, soon after, sadly passed away from congestive heart failure.  And then a sweet orphaned kitten, Chai, came along.  I also received my dog, the lovely Angel, around that time.  Unfortunately, she was a scaredy-dog.  When frightened one day while staying at a friend's house, she ran away and I never saw her again.  This created space in my life for Matzu, the sweetest old pooch you could ever meet and who desperately needed a home.  Diamond soon became more suited to ranching life than the competitive world of horses that I wanted in on, so he moved to a friend's ranch.  Soon after, the loveliest of lovely horses, Sky, came to my home.  So, let's recap:  Prince (dog), Gavalanche (horse), Smith (cat), Jared (cat), Diamond (horse), Chai (cat), Angel (dog), Matzu (dog), Sky (horse).

I detail my fur-family history because it is pertinent to the present topic.  Essentially, animals are a part of my heart, soul, and as the previous paragraph has outlined, my outer existence in this world.  So, when I decided to move to Saudi Arabia and had to ask my kind friends to host my sweet furry loves while I'm away, I figured I would be taking a break from the animal world for a while.  I was okay with this.  I never had human children, but I certainly am not lacking in the experience of having huge responsibilities concerning the lives of other beings.  I was thinking it would be nice to have a break and experience actual complete and abundant freedom for a while.  Turns out, the Universe has other plans for me.

As was mentioned in one of my first blogs after arriving here in the Kingdom, I was greeted by a furry little purr-monster.  She happily slept over in my little compound-based apartment, but she only stuck around for that night.  Turns out she's one of many cats that live at my compound.  I've seen her

My welcoming party to the KSA

lounging about near my apartment building and at the compound pool a number of times, always happy to have a quick scratch behind the ears.  I figured that encountering random compound cats would be the extent of my animal adventures here.  Not so, especially when your apartment is a basement suite with a nice sized ledge in front of the window.  I had (and still have) ample visits from numerous cats sitting at my window, meowing away, while sitting at my table eating breakfast (or lunch, or dinner, or reading, or researching.... you get the idea).  I was determined to not let any of them in.  And in no way was I to be convinced to feed them.  My responsibility to animals was on a hiatus, and I was determined to have things remain that way.  Ah, but I underestimated one particular furry friend.  She knew exactly what she was doing, peeking through my window with the most gorgeous yellow eyes and soft white fur.  Patiently sitting there, not expecting much.  Happy to accept a quick neck rub through a slightly opened window screen when I simply could resist no longer.  Everyday she arrived, and everyday she managed to move a little closer into my apartment. 

Keeks

Eventually, I gave in, and so arrived the unnamed cat into my life.  I didn't, however, feed her.  She is a seasoned compound cat, and she knows very well how to fend for herself (by seducing other compound-animal-lover residents I have no doubt).  For many moons she remained unnamed all the while sleeping at my feet and snuggling with me while I read and worked at home.  That is until my friend, Caroline stopped by and noticed the unnamed one lounging at the foot of my bed.  "Keeks!" She exclaimed.  Apparently the unnamed one was named after all.  Keeks had weasled her way into Caroline's heart when she first arrived at the compound as well, turning that non-cat-fanatic friend of mine into a cat lover.  Caroline even ended up adopting two compound kittens as a result of Keeks' interference in her "no cats for me" life plan.  Oh Keeks, you are a sly one.

While Keeks has been a definite animal presence in the five months that I've lived in Riyadh, she certainly hasn't been the only one.  Let me tell you a story about the day I arrived home from work to find my window left open.  I was sure I had closed it.  Oh, but maybe I only closed the screen and mistakenly left the pane open.  "Silly Keeks," I thought to myself.  "She must've pulled the screen open with her claws.  Such a smart girl." It wasn't long after, while sitting on my bed playing on my
computer,  I noticed an odd chirping sound.  Thinking it was a new bird that had arrived for the spring season I didn't pay much attention.  But then I started realizing that I had heard this sound before.  This was no bird chirping, this was kitten mewing.  "Aaaahhh, " I thought.  "A litter of kittens must be outside my window."  I got up to go look out the window, only to see from the corner

The kittens

Their temporary abode

of my eye, a fully adult cat hiding between my pile of empty luggage and my sofa.  Not a big deal, really, only for the fact that this cat was royally pissed and obviously a mama cat protecting her brood.  I managed to back away and then make loud noises to scare her out through my already opened window.  Keeks hadn't been the one to open the screen after all.  I locked the mama out and went on a little search to quickly find five tiny kittens huddled amongst my empty luggage.  Crap.  They were definitely only two weeks old at the most.  This was a responsibility I definitely did not want.  Quickly, I put the kittens in a little box lined with my gym towel and carefully placed them on the ground outside my window.  Hopefully, mama cat would come and get them or even use the box as her nesting site.  I was only partially lucky in this circumstance.  Mama cat did come along and get her kittens, but she left one behind.  I waited, and waited, and waited.  Even left my
apartment for a few hours to avoid the possibility that I was frightening mama with my presence.  I came home to find that the lone black kitten was still alone, in the box, outside my window.  Crap.  And so the avoidance of animal responsibilities was not going to continue.  With some quick internet research and a shout out to my other animal-loving friends at the compound I managed to get a recipe for a make-shift nutritional kitten supplement, a medicine dropper, and a fellow surrogate kitten

Polo (right) with his new buddy, Gamar

mother to feed the adorable little fur-ball while I was staying late at work.  Between Louise and I we managed to keep this little guy alive.  And thanks to my other animal-loving friend, Elise, Polo (as I like to call him) or Napolean (as everyone else calls him) got a new home with a new best kitten friend, Gamar.  Phew!  Polo turned out to be just a minor glitch in the no-animal-responsibilities-for-Bonnie project.


Yes, it became a project.  This avoidance of animals was obviously not going to be easy.  And it continued to be difficult.  Only a few weeks after finding a home for Polo, I had an interesting animal encounter at work.  Let me preface this story with some background information.  The family I work for is wonderful and absolutely loving.  They don't, however, have a penchant for understanding animals.  Much to the chagrin of the little sweetheart of a boy that I work with.  He is an animal lover through and through.  His family has a keen knowledge of this.  So, when his aunt arrived with two of

The ducklings' first night at my place

the cutest and fluffiest ducklings in her hands to give to my little student, I was anything but surprised.  And when I was informed that she hadn't thought to buy food or planned for an enclosure for them, I wasn't surprised either.  And so, with a deep breath and my eyes to the sky, I took the ducklings in my arms and began the arrangements to find food and a temporary "box" for these sweet yellow fluffballs.  It's a good thing they were adorable.  So, for seven days I was a surrogate duck mother.  I carried them from work to home, home to work, everyday with their swimming tub and their food in tow.  I have to admit, it was fun having them around.  There aren't many things cuter than two ducklings taking a bath in a wash basin.  But it was getting a little out of hand.  They would be growing out of everything I had for them soon, and they got smelly quickly if I was late

Most adorable bath takers, ever!

cleaning their enclosure.  So, the family made arrangements for the ducklings to head to a family member's garden where there was a pond and other ducks.  Phew!

You'd think that was enough animal exposure for the five months that I've been here.  But it wasn't.  These other animals in my life have been much more temporary, however.  They are also a definite no-no when it comes to having them on the compound.  Camels.  Oh, how I love camels.  Probably because they're so similar to horses.  And possibly because whenever I'm around them I'm out in the desert's version of the country, a.k.a. away from the city.  It doesn't matter what element of the experience causes this to happen, but what I know for sure is when I'm with a camel I feel at home again.  My first encounter with a camel was when Louise took me to her friend, Abdullah's uncle's camel farm.  He has camels that he milks.  Yes, people drink camel milk.  No, I haven't tried it. 

Faux-milking a camel

Could she be any cooler?

Unfortunately, the camels had already been milked that day.  Of course that doesn't mean that I had any qualms about asking for a demonstration on how they're milked anyway.  Abdullah's uncle did better than that.  He had me do a faux-milking of one of his camel cows.  It was one of the coolest things ever.  Not only did I get to meet a camel, but I also got to faux-milk her, which essentially just meant that I tugged on her utters/teats a few times.  Talk about getting intimate with an animal.  I could barely contain my excitement.  Camels really are the coolest.  They're the epitome of calm.  Even when they're not calm they still give off the sense that they're calm.  Maybe it's their hooded eyes, or their relaxed lips.  Maybe it's their lumbering and slow walk or their chin-up, holier-than-thou head posture.  Whatever it is, I can't help but think they've got life all figured out and they are living the ultimate zen.  That's probably why, whenever I'm around camels, while my friends are shouting at me saying, "Bonnie don't get so close." Or, "Bonnie, watch your hands, he's going to bite

Kissing "Bonnie the Camel"

you." Or, "Oh my Gawd, she's actually kissing it!" I don't pay attention, because I can sense when the camels are chill with me being around (and when they're not...I don't push my limits).  Maybe my comfort with them was a reason for Abdullah's uncle offering to name one of his baby camels after
me.  It could also have been my extreme excitement for being able to hug a camel.  Either way, I now have a camel in Saudi Arabia as a namesake.  Bonnie the Camel has one hump!

Can you say "love?"

 In Joy,

Bonnie

Having a chat with the papa camel.

Happiness is not the word to describe this moment....but it comes close