Meet the Family

Thanks for all of the reassuring comments. I mainly think everyone quit reading because I am so spotty. You're all way to nice, but happy to see people are still being amused by my crazy life. I know I am.

I’m not gonna lie. I wasn’t real sure what we were getting into. I said to Peter in the car, “You don’t think they’re going to chop us up and kill us do you?” Noooo. Then I had to run through the ins and outs of the thing. First, Peter would have a good time, because the men spoke English, but it’s not too often you find women with great English. I knew we’d be separated the entire time, so no English could have been really bad. ( I don’t think I’ve written about when we went to Fatimah’s family tents in the Spring, but we were separated there, so I knew a little what to expect and also what we may be eating. More goat.) My next concern was when we would eat. The kids were hungry, it was lunch time. But I know these people start much later in the day, and stay up into the night. I had packed a lunch for the car ride home anyway, so I fed that to them while we headed into the desert, knowing that even if we did eat sooner, goat really isn’t their favorite. Then there was the concern of if I needed to cover or not, what about using the bathroom while we were there, etc. All legitimate questions with a family of young kids.

My worries were soon put to rest as we came upon a group of tents. A lot of them. There were eleven in total. Tareq said there was no need to cover my head, but I did keep my abaya on the entire day, as did all of the women. Giddie was still asleep in the car, which was parked near to the men’s tent. So we cracked the windows and left him sleeping – and to Peter to look out for, for that matter. Tareq took me back to the second row of tents, where he introduced me to his wife; who spoke perfect English. And then to his three sisters, and all of their daughters and granddaughters – who ALL spoke perfect English! What luck! He then disappeared and Ruby and I were brought into the women’s tent where we were treated like royalty for the rest of the day. They set us in two chairs, served us drinks and dates, took our picture, circled around and wouldn’t let us do anything. Of course, the fact that they had six maids with them helped out a bit. All in all, they were some of the most lovely women I’ve ever met.

Who are these people are what were they doing there?

In this part of the world, these people LOVE to camp. I mean LOVE it. And I don’t just mean for the weekend. It’s in their blood. Their ancestors have lived generation after generation in tents across the gulf. Even in Kuwait there were tents set up as far as you could see. And here, where there is a lot more room, the tents are everywhere this time of year.

So this family sets up their tents for three months of the year, they have one month left. Their family has been coming to this same spot for forty years now. They bring their maids, two full gas range stoves, an entire kitchen, two really nice trailer bathrooms, and lots and lots of cushions, carpets, and tents with them. The bathrooms had five western toilets and a squatter, and warm running water. (for my hands, for their nether regions) The whole place is hooked up to electricity and is just plain awesome. They only come out on weekends, except one full week they all come together. This was their last day as an entire family – and they welcomed us like one of them.

The oldest generation still alive comes as well. But it has been a little cool this week and at 76 and 85, camping became too much and they left a few days early. They actually had a full bathroom installed in their tent and sectioned off by canvas. It was pretty impressive I must say. But the fact that they are still coming out here makes me see what an important part of their heritage it is.

This family actually lives an hour south of me, we were two hours northwest of where I live. Tareq owns his own construction business, which is how they have such an awesome bathroom and electrical set up. I really don’t know much about the other men, but I will tell you more about each of the women. I know that in the next generation of men I talked to a dentist, an ENT doctor, I know two sons are in the U.S. going to school, and one of the girls is engaged to a surgeon.; these guys were all in their mid twenties to early thirties. Pretty impressive, I must say.

The Patriarch’s wife

I’ll be honest and tell you that I really only know her name, and I’m not even sure how to pronounce it. She wrote her email address down for me and that’s all I know. There were just so many women and names I am so unfamiliar with that I am going to tell you about them by how I remember them. So, Mona is Tareq’s wife. She is the sister in law to the other three women of the family that were there. I would suspect that they are closely related anyway, cousins maybe, because that is just how things work here.

Mona has seven children and has worked full time until recently. She was an administrator at a girls school. She is beautiful. All of the women covered their heads and kept their abaya’s on, but didn’t veil. Many of them held a scarf to their face or put on sunglasses if a man came near. They still have to cover so carefully because, “My brother in law cannot see me. Or perhaps my daughters cousin, he cannot see her.” Don’t forget that these people marry the people I am referring to, and they don’t want to cause any lustful thoughts. (not joking here) Mona welcomed me with open arms and would be my go-to while I was here. She introduced me to everyone and made sure the kids and I, as they came and went between the men and women, were comfortable and answered every single question I asked. And you can bet I asked a lot.

She has beautiful long hair, layered and blown out, with some reddish highlights in it. Her face was really pretty as well, full lips and a perfect nose with big bright eyes. Her faced matched her personality. Welcoming.

The Matriarch

This is the oldest member of the main family at the camp. I don’t know her name, but I immediately liked her as well. She has eleven children and was a housing manager until she recently retired as well. I think these women work because of the freedom and sense of identity it gives them. All of their daughters are very educated and work as well. I can’t say for sure, but there are so many things they can’t do, and they all have house maids and nannies anyway, that they work.

She seemed to be full of wisdom. She kept very closely covered. Not rearranging all the time as most girls do; wrapping and re-wrapping. She stood back at first but seemed to approve of me and welcomed just the same.

When a woman has her first son, they quit using their given name and are then called “Mother of so and so.” This women is called Mother of Achmed or Umm Achmed. They told me that women answer to both, but that old women prefect the Umm status as a sign of respect. But they don’t want to get old, so I could just call them by their first names. I adored all of them from the get go.

The middle sister.

If I had to pick a sister, she’d be by favorite. I wish I knew her name. She was so full of fun and laughter, teasing and singing. And while every other woman was in full black, she was wearing the brightest, crazy print, multi colored abaya dress - and a bright blue scarf. She was just plain fun.

She has six children, and again works at the school. She had several daughters with her that day, and a couple of grandchildren too. I think there were more than 30 family members at the camp while we were there. But, if you consider how many kids that oldest generation has, this must have been a small portion of who could have possibly been there.

Later in the day there was a lot of beautiful Arabic singing and dancing that went on. And the middle sister was always heading it up, her and her grown daughter. They were a delight.

The youngest

This sister was quiet and reserved. She had several daughters there also and is the only sister who doesn’t live in the same town as the others. She lives another two hours south where the family is originally from, but there isn’t a lot of commerce there any more, so most people move to the city.

The actual sisters didn’t have the beautiful features that their sister in law has. They looked like they had been marrying within their family for quite some time. Just a little odd features here and there, very common looking here. But each of their personalities made up for anything they lacked in looks. They were really all so full of fun and life, they were all just a treat to be around.

Next Generation

I connected a bit with a young mother of a two year old. She teaches a class of 24 first grade boys at an elementary school. She was young, pretty and full of life. Her mother, the fun middle sister, babysits her son for her. Although, I am guessing the house maid actually does most of the watching. But at least he’s with family and this makes her happy. She’s married to the tallest Arab I’ve met so far, who Peter and I have been referring to as “too tall jones”. He works as a contractor in the IT dept for the same company we work for. He works away on a remote camp all week long and they hate being apart. They are young and cute and full of life.

The next oldest daughter will be married in two months. I was SO excited for her, but on one else really seemed to be. They told me the brought her out here for her last hoorah, so to say, before marriage. I inquired all about the details of their marriage. It was a bit of a let down, I must say. She is marrying “too talls” brother, who is this girls first cousin on the other side. (so it’s not the young mother’s cousin, just hers – are you confused yet? I am.) They were engaged three years ago, and had their marriage party a year ago. (meaning they are technically married now) They will have a small party at her mothers in two months, then she’ll move to the small town I told you they are from to live with her new husband. “He will never come to the tents with me. He is too busy (the surgeon) and hates camping. I will come by myself though.” I hope she really can. This sweet young girl, 20, had a cleft pallet at some point, and has had beautiful plastic surgery to fix it. She looks lovely and you can hardly tell, but I mention it because she is darn lucky in this country to have had such nice work done. She looks great, and has the most amazing singing voice. But more on that later.

Most of the rest of the girls were kind of blurr. One in her first year of college, a few in high school and middle school, and one super cutie of an eight year old. Let me tell you, if they think they’re going to but an abaya and veil on that little pistol in a few years, they’re crazy! She was so full of spice and life. She wore tight skinny jean, chuck taylors, sunglasses and a hoodie and was nothing but the life of the party all day long. I totally adored her.

Those are the ladies, there must have been 15 or so all together. They were a beautiful family of young and old, and an example of the changing generations that are coming so fast in this area. I truly felt like a sister by the time I left. I wanted hang out and braid hair and eat munchies like at girls camp. It was such a breath of fresh air for me. I am so used to the women here being so stifled that I never get to know any of them. And if I were to see these women on the streets, they would all be veiled. And here we were, laughing , singing, dancing, eating, and just enjoying one another. What an experience, especially when the Patriarchs Wife asked me if I would like her to take me for a drive in the desert.

Well, I couldn’t wait for that.