Sisters and stuff

At this moment, my sister is headed for a c-section for the birth of her third child. I've been thinking about her all day. Wishing I could be there. Wishing I could celebrate with her. I'll be there tomorrow but it just isn't the same. I hadn't even planned to go. She has plenty of support, another sister, mother, mother-in-law, husband, friends. She doesn't even really need me. Except that for these kinds of things we all need each other. When a baby comes into the world, it is a blessing for that child to be surrounded by all of the people in his life that will love him and teach him and be there for him. I want to be a part of that. Erin has been with me since the beginning. Every step she takes that grows her a bit grows me too. Now as my younger siblings have grown up I find that I want so much to be a part of their growings too. Because I am the oldest I missed a lot. Because I was rebellious I missed even more. These days I long for the freedom to jump on a plane or even the time to just to hear their voices. The power of those bonds gets stronger as I get older. I realize how much our DNA is connected to those we share a genealogy with. I'm so glad those bonds can last forever. How could they not? This life is not enough time.

The adventure

I spent a lot of my younger years day dreaming of grand adventures. When I was about 10 I wanted to be a Goonie and look for treasure. When I was 15 I thought I would hitchhike to California and see the ocean. I also believed that when I married a Marine that we would travel to exotic foreign lands and I would finally get to see the world I had been dreaming about. I wrote often in my journal of all the places I wished I could go. And I did have some adventures. I lived in the Arizona wilderness for 42 days. I did hitchhike even if I didn't make it to CA.

Tonight as I was tucking Wesley in he began to explain to me that he loves me the most. Its our ritual. We toss back and forth how we love the most and I always win because I'm bigger. Tonight I elaborated. I said that when Heavenly Father sends a spirit to a mommy's tummy he also gives her super heart powers. He makes her heart grow so she can love the most. "Really?" was his reply. He actually believed me. His sweet face pressed against my cheek as he put his arm around me. "Well, I still love you the most," he said. I thought staying at home would be boring or that I could find happiness elsewhere. But, oh boy, was I wrong. Being a mom has been the greatest adventure of my life. The grandest most infinitely important thing I have ever aspired to or tried to do has been to stay here and watch my children grow.

This garden

I went to a wonderful Relief Society meeting on Thursday. They did a performance of Women at the Well, which I have never seen, and had some amazing food. I'm glad my mom encouraged me to go because frankly I haven't been to an evening meeting in like two years. I was really enriched by the talents of the women in our ward. A woman from another ward did a beautiful dance to the song about the Savior walking to Calvary. Her body really portrayed the intense pain Mary must have felt as she watched her Son carry the cross. I was so moved by how our bodies store our pain, how it reacts and must experience that pain. I think there is a link between our bodies and our ability to feel. A necessary link that enables us to grow and experience things we could not without them. Grief and joy are both often just as excruciating. Sometimes I find myself clutching my chest with gratitude, the cries from that come from that are just as deep as those of sorrow. What a miracle that is!

Today, as I sung with the choir I was moved again. This time by our cantata. One of the songs is called This Garden is a Healing Place. It is about Gestemane. The place the Savior suffered for the sins of the world. The song talks about how peaceful the place is. How quiet and beautiful it is. For some reason I cannot make it through this song. I can imagine the place. Not as a dark and stormy place of suffering (as in our common pictures) but as a place of healing and beauty. The most beautiful gift of all time was given in that garden. A place that would be renewed each spring. A place that would have life in the trees and birds and animals that live there. I'm so grateful for that Atonement. The garden, the hill and the tomb. Those things are the point from which all good in my life flows and without Him I would be utterly lost to my own selfish, close minded desires. What an unspeakable gift.

So, its true.

I am indeed a great big nerd. I feel much better today, the fog has cleared and I have had a great day--in class. I taught this morning to a bunch of bright young minds who worry about their rents and their boyfriends and their grades. I love them. Then I went to institute where we discussed the beauty and wonder of the creation. And then, I went to rhetoric.

Rhetoric is this wild field where you get to study Language. You know that is my favorite thing, right? Letters that form words, words that form sentences, sentences that create change. Its an amazing process that I find deeply fascinating. How does language act? Did you know that it does? That it can go out into the world and make things happen? That's what I want to study and talk about and read about. Right now, I'm working my way through the first guys that did that in the Western world. Plato, the Sophists, then Aristotle and the Roman dudes, Quintillian and Cicero. My class is the exciting place where we talk and think about how this affects our society and how these ancient philosophers changed the course of history. And where my professor often puts his hands through his hair and says things like "this is blowing my mind!"

In my weak and sick state, I questioned a lot of things. Particularly my place in academia. I've found myself cycling through the necessity of education on a regular basis since I started college. I know I am a better mother. I know I am a better wife. I don't know if I'm a better disciple but I hope that I am. The reality is that this process of learning has grown me in so many ways I didn't anticipate. Ways that are not financially significant or valuable. One of the biggest ways is that I have the language to express the things I have always thought about and wondered. I know who to read to find more language and I know how to interpret it. That skill has given my life so much depth and complexity in a pleasing and delicious way. So, whether or not I need to get a PhD I don't know. But I do know that I am in the right place at the right time and that the answers will come as they always have--right when I need them.

Weakness becomes strength

I've been sick. Miserable sick. I've been sleeping for the last two days. Not only did everything come to a halt for snow, now I feel I am at a standstill again for the sick. And I'm grumpy about it.

What I've been thinking about is how weakness, physical or otherwise, can often cause you to question everything. I'm so tired and I feel so worn that I'm questioning my life. Do I want to be a career academic? Do I have anything worthwhile to say as a writer? Can I go back to being a stay at home mom and be happy with that? Is that the right thing to do? I find myself asking questions all day because I can't really get out of bed.

So, then I wonder, how valuable is weakness? Isn't it a blessing sometimes to have to stop and examine our lives? To have the ability to just be still for a few moments (or days) and listen to the beat of your heart and breathe. I feel grateful right now that I've had to just be still and care for my body. In the process, I think perhaps it will rest my spirit. And when the dust clears I will be refreshed.

Frozen

The whole area is totally frozen over. Its been a fairly comfortable snowy week for us but we all have a bit of cabin fever. I'm amazed at the pioneers who endured so much worse and for a much longer period of time. However, I'm not that tough honestly. I have books open on my kitchen table which I periodically venture over to to read for a while. I had a wonderful friend invite my girls over for a play date so I was able to work on my thesis, read for my class Monday and take a nap. However, even the thought of going grocery shopping just makes my toes cold. I have also decided that cold is exhausting. It sort of leeches your body of reserves. I could sleep all day long (and eat, don't even get me started on the food thing). Our workout schedule has been slightly disrupted and the kid's brains are oozing out of their ears from all the video games.

Despite all of the snow business, I have had some great experiences this week. We had a lovely family home evening on Tuesday night in front of the fireplace. Dave has been home more this week and Ayla's arm is, thankfully, not totally broken. We also braved the freeways last night to go to the baptism of my best friend's son. It was an amazing evening. This young man is almost fourteen years old. He has waited six years trying to decide if the church was right for him. A pair of missionaries in the ward came at the right time, took him on splits and taught him about missionary work. The room was standing room only as the youth came to support their friend. I was so touched to see how this ward has wrapped their arms around this kid. Their family has had some hardships recently and they have found so much hope in the gospel. I'm so glad we were able to go safely and feel the Spirit of the baptism.

With Dread and Anticipation

My syllabus is mostly ready. My first two weeks are lesson planned and I have ordered all of my required books. It appears I am ready for the first day of school next week. However, I feel like I'm on a death march. The semester does not look promising or exciting or wonderful like it usually does. I'm enjoying home so much. I'm enjoying working on my house, eating lunch with my kids, going out with my husband and girlfriends and generally just being myself. I feel so comfortable in this role that was stifling me five years ago. Before I started school I couldn't wait to get out to escape and be free. The demands of small children felt like the most grievous demands. Now, I would rewind, go back, circle through those easy days of cuddling and diaper changing and play-doh. Its amazing how perspective can often be a wider vantage point than looking forward. I feel blessed to have had this six weeks to reflect on my life's mission, to draw my children around me and hold them and love them. Everyday that passes gets me closer to that time when my mind will be full of learning and growth but not necessarily focused on my family. That division is a strain. It pulls at me in two different directions. I hope I can finish well. I hope I can write my thesis and defend it successfully. I hope that my students will get something out of my class. I'm grateful to have had this blessing in my life, even though it has also been a trial. Facing the last semester is daunting but in the end it will be worth it.

This year our Christmas has been peaceful and blessed. We have had a wonderful week as we have all been home recovering from a grueling semester. One of the best things about school is that it ends and when it does we feel that relief so powerfully. Our family has been richly blessed by others and by the Spirit. We have played games, delivered candies, looked at lights and been able to help another family have a Christmas as well. I have found myself at times overwhelmed by gratitude for the people in my life. What choice and noble spirits I get to be around all the time. And don't forget those I am not with everyday but who bless my life in countless ways. You are all a part of what Christmas means to me.

Some of those meanings are:
The gift of repentance (not only with our Father in Heaven but with those we hurt as well)
The gift of comfort and peace in a turbulent uncertain world
The gift of light, knowledge and truth that we have in the world because of the restoration of the gospel
The gift of eternal families who I get to spend time and all eternity with
The gift of love as manifested in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and His willingness to condescend below us all. For this gift I am most grateful for without it none others would be possible. I hope that all of those who are lurking out there know of these gifts and that you also feel my love as well. Merry Christmas.

La Marsa

After our scavenger hunt, the bus took us to La Marsa for what we thought was going to be class on the beach. When we arrived it was raining a misty rain and it was chilly. The Mediterranean doesn't really begin to get warm until June and the beach didn't look very inviting. The rest of the group opted to go back to the hotel but Heidi, David, Stephanie, Jack and I stayed behind to explore. It was one of my favorite days. We walked along the beach talking and feeling the wind and listening to the ocean. It was all very romantic and beautiful. As we were walking along the beach we saw a couple between two houses under an umbrella kissing. I had a very exotic romantic movie moment watching the couple and imagining.

The picture above is in the neighborhood streets that we ended up wandering aimlessly. The city was very quiet (it was Sunday afternoon) and the rain was cool. We talked about all kinds of interesting things and had some good discussion on the merits of waiting to have sex before you are married. I was trying at least to offer a perspective different from theirs. I enjoyed their company immensely. We walked until Heidi got a piece of glass in her foot. We found a very nice restaurant where we went and sat down. We all looked like wet, stray dogs and no waiters even acknowledged our presence but we got the glass out of Heidi's foot and headed over to a place called Route 66.


This pic is Heidi and Jack at Route 66. I have never been to a Hooka bar/tea house before. In fact, I felt a little out of place but I enjoyed being warm, having some hot tea and just chilling out talking. We were all grateful to be drying off a bit and they all smoked Hooka (or shisha as it is called in Tunisia). The smoke was very thick and I started to feel woozy so they graciously left with me. I loved this day. I loved being seperated from our guide and being free to wander a little. We were in a big enough group that we felt safe and these guys were the core of the group I hung with most of the time. I am feeling quite nostalgic for this place today. Its funny that as I get more distance from the trip I find more feelings associated with it. It was an amazing ride. A collection of memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

John Mayer and the Mysteries of Living

I'm feeling quite philosophical today so pardon the detour from relating life's events to the wanderings of a weekend's thoughts. A few years ago when the album, Heavier Things by John Mayer, came out I was able to attend a concert with my mom. We were talking about one of his songs "Missing" She said, "I know what that feels like, to have nothing wrong but feel like something's not quite right." At the time, I couldn't fathom what she meant by that. I felt like I had all my pieces in place. My internal dialogue was spunky, full of life and generally good. The external part of my life, the one lived outside my gray matter, had its difficulties and challenges but at the end of the day I was pleased with myself and with my relationship with God.

This weekend I spent two nights at the Hilton DFW in Grapevine as a scholarship recipient to a literary conference. Last year was my first experience there. I had an amazing time. I felt like I had stumbled onto a community of writers and storytellers. It felt good to be a part of that. This year was a little different. Perhaps, colored by repetition. Perhaps, I felt out of place because Dave came for the first night and then left and I felt myself alone in a sea of faces. I made friends last night with a delightful mother and daughter and stayed talking with them in the lobby until 1 a.m. However, on the whole I feel a little bit empty. Its as though my vision is clouded and the colors are less crisp, the air thicker and difficult to breathe. I should be enjoying my time off. I have a one month break before school starts. I should be delighting in my children. Enjoying summer like usual. But I haven't hit my stride.

I've been thinking about what changes our perceptions of life. When we look around and see that all is right with the world and are still not satisfied. John Mayer's words are: It doesn't help the hunger pains and a thirst I'd have to drown first to ever satiate. I'm hungry for something but I don't know what the remedy is because I have what I need, it seems. What is missing is my perception of those met needs. The evolution of how we see our lives fascinates me. In the past, when things were darkest, I felt the most alive. When they aren't I'm not sure how to capture the joy of that. To relish the light, and the love that I have accessible all around me. I wonder if our bodies are not cut out for it. If we allow the depth of joy that our spirit's are capable of, maybe we could not survive it. Maybe the secret is to look for the stash--the hidden cupboard in the darkness that we like to wallow in so we can keep it closed--in order to break off digestible pieces. I think I avoid the opportunities for joy intentionally. Business takes the place of the quiet sunlight that requires you to be still in order to gain the most benefit from it. Because joy takes work. It takes prying open the rusty hinges of unpracticed adults. It sounds good. It looks good on a child spinning on a tire swing and giggling. Until we think of the nausea and the discomfort of the spin. It looks good on an athlete as they cross the finish line. Until we hear about their injuries and hours of training.

The seasons of our lives connect--suffering to joy, joy to disappointment, disappointment to determination. Sometimes I long for even rather than bumpy seasons. I'll go out of my way to find a numbness that will allow me to stay on a flat road. And then I remember the crest of the roller coaster as it rounds the top of the hill and the exhilaration. And look forward to it.

On the Hunt in the Medina

My first Sunday in Tunisia we were taken to the Medina, given a packet and told to navigate our way to the destinations in the city. My group was Kelly, Jack, David and Christina. This tomb (the green and red thing in the pic above) was our first marker. Its a dead French guy I think. A Baron. I didn't pay attention to that. Jack drew a picture of it and I asked a guy near by who was in there. He didn't give a specific name so we found an older gentleman that spoke a tiny bit of English but we got the gist in French.

This view of the city was brought to us by this really crazy guy. He found us on the street and we asked him questions. He said he could take us to a cool place, so he brought us to the top of the city and we sat on a sultan's bed and it was cool. Then he wanted a bunch of money from us. Jack and David were mad. We wasted a lot of time with the guy but we got to go to the top of the city and see it from this angle. One of my most memorable experiences happened on our scavenger hunt. We were walking back toward the Mosque (the one behind us in the pic) to our final destination. A man in the souk grabbed my arm and was trying to force me into his shop. He just wanted me to come in his shop and buy something but he was so aggressive it took me off my guard. Jack came up and put his hand on the guy's hand to get him to release me. The guy said, "Don't touch me" and Jack said "Don't touch her" and they faced off. I thought there was going to be a fight but Jack stood his ground and the other guy backed down. I wasn't really shaken but Jack and I talked later about how I kind of froze. He really pushed me to think about how I would defend myself, how I would stand up to a real creep if I was alone.


The other part to the story happened in the park the next day. I got up early to go run in the park. I felt emboldened by the experience in the souk and I didn't want to wait for the others to get up to run with me. I walked to the park alone, decided on a circular route and got going. It was almost deserted there, even though it was after 7 am. There were a few men here and there but no women. After my first loop I began to feel apprehensive. What if I got into trouble? What if someone just out of the trees and grabbed me? I wouldn't go running in the park in America in an unfamiliar place alone. I felt very out of place but I kept going. At the top of the hill I was on, there was a guarded place. I don't know what was there but two guards were standing outside a large white gate. The first time around I didn't notice them. The second time I realized they were looking at me. By the time I was going to the third round, I began to feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. Its been a long time since I was "looked" up and down like that. I knew they were staring at me as I passed. I had my ipod on loud and tried to block it out but I felt as I passed that I moved in slow motion. It was almost as though the feelings they were shooting at me were pulling me backward, like a tractor beam, even though I continued forward. Then I heard right behind me, "Hey baby" and I jumped in the air, screaming a curse word and ed beating on the guy with my left hand. It was Jack. He had come into the park after me and snuck up on me. He told the others later he had decided to see what I would do to defend myself. It was a good lesson. I realized that if I felt threatened I would react. It might have been the first time in my life I have ever reacted that way to a physical threat. That experience really taught me a lot about myself. Part of going to Tunisia was to learn if I had the stuff to do it. To see if I was as brave as I believed myself to be. Feeling threatened and reacting went a long way to reinforce that. It made me stronger. Thank goodness it was only Jack, and I was able to have a test run. Hopefully, I'll never actually have to use that lesson.

Back to Africa, Arabic Music

I had the privilege of attending a private rehearsal for this band. It was live, traditional Arabic music. I was enthralled. One of the most amazing things about this kind of music is the addition of, what are sometimes called, quarter tones. The vocal performers could do things with their voices that I cannot do with mine and I have a fairly decent range. I loved listening to their music.

Another characteristic of this music is the passion and emotion of it. It is lovely to get swept up in the songs and even though I didn't understand the language, the words--I understood the meaning. They are mostly about love, the tragedy of love or loss of it and the joy of it. Those feelings translate well.

Hooray!

So my camera wasn't lost after all. It was just buried at the bottom of a bag.

The misfit crew that got to spend every waking minute together. I'm amazed at how well everyone got along. It was so cool to see Ayla and Katherine enjoying their time together. I'm so grateful that all the kids were good to each other.

It was also cool to spend most of my waking time with my family. Erin and I have spent a lot of time nurturing our relationship. I'm grateful for her. I'm grateful that our families play a role in each other's lives. Going to the Sand Dunes together was one of the funnest things I've ever done. I love having her be with me through my hardships and my joys. She is a true friend. I also am enjoying developing relationships with the other members of my family. We feel like we are two different families sometimes. As Rach, Todd and Jess get older, I am just basking in their friendship. Not to mention cousins who are talented, funny and a joy to be around. I love having them in my life and every time we get together I count them among my greatest blessings.

My parents told us to stop and see this waterfall. Treasure Falls. Its on the way to the Sand Dunes. We pulled over and hiked uphill to this beautiful place. My mom and dad taught us to love nature. To see God in His creations. They took us to the mountains, they showed us the stars and they instilled in us a love for the earth. I hope to continue that legacy. If nothing else good came of this vacation, I hope my children have an appreciation for the land they were born in. For the blessings of beauty and light and space that we have here. We have access to some of the most beautiful parts of the planet right here in our own country. I'm grateful my parents gave me that gift and that we can share it as our family grows.

Lost camera

Well, I'm happy to report that our family vacation has, in most ways, been a roaring success. Unfortunately, I discovered yesterday that I left my camera in the Dune Parking Lot and never found it. So I cannot give you stunning views of the tallest dunes in the US or of my awesomely crazy family doing cool things like white water rafting, hiking or enjoying our wonderful talent show. Hopefully, my siblings on the sidebar will treat us to a video of Kirknak, the great. Today, we hiked up a rocky trail to a creek, then crossed the creek, which was more like a shallow river, to a cave. Inside the cave was Zapata Falls. A beautiful waterfall that had made its way through a small crevasse in the rock and was bursting into the cave. For the last eight days I have slept, eaten, played and shivered outdoors. I have watched the stars turn slowly in the sky, seen deer and other animals and hiked a giant sand dune. It was in that waterfall that I finally felt connected to God. I had started to think I lost my touch. I used to find the Spirit in every living thing. Perhaps, because of the needs of my family, or my discomfort I found it difficult to feel that connection like I usually do. Under the cool mist of that waterfall I remembered.

Sidi Bou Said

This spot at the top of a very long hill is an often photographed place. Sidi Bou Said is on the outskirts of Tunis. A wealthy French baron in 1912 decreed that all the buildings would be blue and white. We hiked a long way in the sun so by the time we got to the top we were hot and beginning to complain.

We stopped to check out this door. This door is really really old. I don't remember the specifics. I think there is someone buried behind there. Anyway, the pattern though around the door in the yellow tile is a lion's paw. We saw it everywhere. This type of tile is very traditional. I found the sameness of the tile work and architecture, at once, comforting and disturbing. I loved the patterns. I loved the color and the intricate carving work. At the same time, it felt so static. The art, at least in this sense, has stayed and stayed for many centuries. The Ville Nouvelle, or new city, was fairly plain not particularly innovative. It was sad that the old style has not been built upon. We stopped at one point to try a special creme called Assida. This creme is only eaten during the time of the prophet Mohammed's birth. Other places make this same dessert but in Tunisia it is made with nuts from Cypress trees rather than pine nuts. It is a little bitter and rich at the same time. I only had one bite.



The very top of this torturous hill yielded this amazing view. From there you can see the bay that opens up to the Sea. The breeze was so gentle, so comfortable. We just sat and took deep breaths. The days up to this point had been so intense that the place was made that much more precious. We wandered around a bit, sat, took pictures. Jordan, seen below, treated us to a rendition of MmmmBop. The old Hansen tune. She had an amazing voice. I couldn't find the video to play for you here but these ladies are just chilling out. The young woman above is Sarah One. She was one of the babies of the group, quiet. I didn't get to know her very well and I wished I had.



The picture below is the cemetery at the top of this hill. There was also a lighthouse. I sat in the cemetery alone for a while, surrounded by the past. The foreignness, the sea and the quiet allowed me to contemplate for a moment the dead. The sameness of death really hit me. It takes all regardless of faith, country or politics. It was very sobering to put Tunisia in that context. I imagined the suffering of the families of those who were resting there. That grief isn't some unique or alien sorrow. We all feel the magnitude of loss. It was a privilege to experience that. It changed the way I saw the people on the street after that. I felt a new awareness of them, a new connection.

Fathers I Adore

There are some amazing guys out there. Seriously wonderful. These are a few of my favorites. This list is by no means exhaustive.

1. My very own Daddy. For all the struggle we had getting along as I was growing up, I am grateful he has been and continues to be to be an absolute rock of faith, guidance, and example. I didn't know then what it would mean to me that he was willing to stay out all night looking for me, to pick me up from the hospital in the middle of the night or walk with me and try to answer my tough questions. I didn't know what it would feel like to stand with him in the temple, to feel his arm around my waist as I prepared to marry or to lean into his strength during difficult times. Being a father to seven children is a big job. During that time he has had a career, served in the church and done things for people in his community. My dad has many talents and gifts. The greatest gift for me is his love for God, his willingness to serve and his devotion to the gospel. Eternity will be his greatest legacy.

2. My very own husband. Of all the guys that have entered and left my life, the fact that this one stayed is a miracle and a blessing. When we were first getting to know each other I asked him what he wanted out of life. He said he wanted 10 kids! I knew at that moment that I needed to marry him, even though it took me a while to execute that plan. I am constantly reassured by his love for our family. At this very moment, he is sitting in a blow up swimming pool with all four of our children. He goes out of his way to make sacrifices, to make and keep promises and to ensure that each one of them knows that he would rather be with them than anywhere else. He makes up for all the ways I lack as a parent. I am so grateful that he is able to adjust and grow with them as we try to figure out the business of raising our children.

3. My very own brother. I haven't had much time to see my brother and his kids. I don't know what kind of dad he is in everyday life. I do know that he loves his family. I know that he works really hard to give them a good life and that he makes a lot of personal sacrifices for them. Its a strange sort of thing to see your little brother become a father. There is something intangible about that that makes me proud of him. Proud that he would make that choice. Now if we could just get them to move to Texas.

4. My brother-in-law. I won't say he's my very own. Technically, he belongs to my sister. I have several brothers-in-law but Micheal is the one I'm gonna highlight because I've seen him in action the most. He is a great daddy to his daughters. I am always impressed with the way that he makes them feel safe, supports them in their activities and is calm and gentle with them. I am glad he is a great partner with my sister and loves his family because I know that they are well taken care of. Mike is a great leader and he is a good example to those girls of what to look for when its time.

5. My neighbor Lance. I just want to say that I think stay at home dads are awesome. Lance stays at home with his 4 year old son and his new baby. He is disabled, sometimes in a lot of pain during the day. But he never hesitates to get on the floor and build a train set, or bring out popsicles for the neighborhood kids. He has told me that leaving his job was the best thing he ever did. That he loves to be a dad and that he's doing the most important work he could do. We needs more dads like this in our society. Men who are willing to be in their children's lives.

All of these fathers have influenced my life. Each of them are an example to me of what kind of qualities I will look for when my daughters are trying to make that decision. One of the most important qualities is to want to be a father and to do it right. So many men spend their lives carving out their careers. These men don't have to have money or accolades to feel successful. The relationships they develop are what make them great.

And lastly, what would a Father's Day be without thinking of that great Father, even our Father in Heaven. Who sacrificed His Only Begotten Son to save His children. Who suffers as we suffer, who loves us beyond our ability to comprehend and who eagerly awaits our report. I love Him. He is my creator and I feel a draw to return to Him. I am grateful for His wisdom in patterning our families after His and giving us the tools we need to go home to live with our eternal family.

Carthage, Post 2

The Thermes is what this place is called. The remains of the basement floor of the baths are all that you see in the wide view. These baths were feats of engineering. The places we could walk around were where the slaves or servants would stoke the fires for heat, run water etc. Above people of any class could come and exercise and bathe.


This is my Roman slave boy (jk). Underneath this cove was a series of tunnels that led to the lower level. We are up above the tunnels. The baths sit right next to the sea, although archaeologists are not sure where exactly the water level was in the 2nd century A.D. It was a gorgeous day that day. Breezy, cool and comfortable and there were luscious gardens all around the property. We couldn't take pictures of some of the area because it faced the President's residence.
Sarah Two, as she was so nicknamed. This lady was so fun and interesting. She graciously allowed me to use her lap top (she was the only one who brought one) so I could communicate with my family. The hotel computer was a European one complete with Arabic, it was difficult to use. Sarah spent some time in Germany and has been many places. She was very kind to me and I enjoyed talking with her.


This is a video showing what the Baths look like.

Day 4, Carthage, Post 1

Carthage was one of the coolest places I visited in Tunisa. Its history begins in Phoenician times. The Carthaginians lived during the 2nd and 3rd centuries B.C. The picture below shows the remains of a home. The walls around the home protected it, visitors would enter the gate into a courtyard, the rest of the home would not have been visible. In the background is the Gulf of Tunis. The position of the city on a hill was strategic and Carthage itself stretched over a wide area. Much of it is buried under the housing developments in the area.

The man below is Professor Nagib. He was a funny archaeologist. Considering how warm it was that day he did a pretty good job of taking us to all the sites and showing us the art and mosaics in the museum. The mosaics in Carthage rival the Bardo (although we saw some even better ones later). Its a fascinating thing to stand in a place of history and try to conjure the images of people who walked the same paths centuries before you. I kept wandering around trying to see the ghosts of the place. I couldn't. I felt the weight of the time but the people and so much of the traces of them are gone.


Its no surprise then that I loved the sculptures. I loved the faces, the details, the humanity of them. While Roman sculpture (this one is Roman) isn't as refined as the Greek, and the features are often a little grandiose for reality, I still found myself drawn to these. Human beings created likenesses of other human beings with stone and tools. Its a feat that defies my imagination. The collections at Carthage traced the span of its history. We saw pottery that was made by the Carthaginians. Sculpture by the Romans but very little Islamic work. I had hoped to see early Islamic art. However, if there is some, it is not in Carthage.

Day 3, May 21

This morning we went to a Youth Hostel in the Medina of Tunis. The Medina is the old city. The walls are no longer there but the structure of the city is. The alley picture with Randi in it above is a shot of one of the roads. Cars drive through here and you have to flatten yourself against the wall to avoid being run over. The Hostel we went to was in another old wealthy home. The tile work, courtyard and dining room were absolutely gorgeous. It was a sunny day and we all met in a dining room to have class. It was in this class that I realize that one of these people is not like the others, namely me. We discussed feminism. My opinions, for the most part, were kept quietly to myself, as the forum was not right to engage in an argument. It isn't that I disagreed wholeheartedly. I do think women in the same job with the same qualifications as men should get the same pay. I do think women should have a choice to have a family and that they should also be free to support said family when needed. However, its frustrating to listen to the argument that its socially irresponsible to have more than two children. Or that women are hindered and cannot do their "great" work outside the home if they have children. I often feel when talking to those that identify themselves as feminist that there is a negation of my work as a mother, that there is no value in it. When talking with the girls one on one, I found that they did not feel this way, even if they do not want to be mothers. However, in the classroom environment it was difficult for me to feel free to express myself. My professor handled it fairly well. She believes in motherhood and feels that feminism is too much an either/or proposition. Needless to say, I found myself seriously questioning pursuing further education in women's studies. I doubt there is a PhD in that in my future.



This is one of the doors of the medina. Each door faces a cardinal direction. We went through the medina to shop. It is like a huge market where people are selling every kind of thing. It was very overwhelming because if you aren't used to it you feel as though everyone is talking to you at once. Jack and I went through without the group because we weren't hungry for lunch and we didn't want to try to maneuver through the souk with the group. It was hard enough with just two. We never did get really good at bartering although some of the girls did. My roommate usually paid about 20% of the asking price. I thought the souk was exciting and fun. I didn't really like to buy things because its a lot of work. But I enjoyed watching the people interact. The boundaries in some ways are not really the same as here. The shopowners press into you, with urgency and with brilliant smiles (most of the time). They were all men. Very few women shop keepers in the souk. We saw women going about their business but they are not public figures in retail. Not in the way it is here. When you walk into a retail store in the mall, you are most likely to meet a woman salesperson. I found this very interesting. Our culture uses women to sell, everything from cars to perfume, to diapers to bug spray. The advertising in Tunisia rarely depicted women at all. We saw few posters, or street ads with women. Often it was in small shop windows that there would be a picture of a woman. Part of that is that 90% of the economy is small businesses. There are very few large corporation and therefore not nearly as much big business advertising.



This is one of the mosques in the old medina. Everyday there is a call to prayers five times a day. It is a beautiful sound, reverent and peaceful. It was one of my favorite things about being in a Muslim country. We would hear the call and our walk would slow and we would all get quiet. We did not understand the language but the spirit was there. The remembrance of God, the need of Him, the love and devotion. Muslims are intensely spiritual and have great faith. They expect God to fulfill their wishes and desires. The people I came into contact with were great examples to me of faith and devotion.

Katye Rutledge, roommate extraordinaire. I was apprehensive about this arrangement. I haven't shared a room with many but my husband in 12 years. I haven't spent this much time with anyone in a long time. I was worried we wouldn't get along, or that there would be tension of some kind, discomfort. I was pleasantly and gratefully surprised. Katye is a gentle person, compassionate and considerate. She took care of me when I was sick, she watched out for me, she listened and laughed with me. In many ways, I felt like I was not as good a roommate, hopefully, she didn't think so.

Day 2, Bardo

This baptistry was the first thing displayed as we entered the Bardo Museum. A few facts about the Bardo:

"The outside comes first: it’s a seventeenth century palace, built on the site of a thirteenth century palace, and it was long known as the Bardo Palace, an official Husseinite residence. It’s an impressive building, but don’t spend too long admiring it from the outside: the artifacts that have graced the rooms inside since it becamse a museum in 1888 are just as worthy of your time.

The exhibition is arranged approximately by era, starting with the Prehistoric display – including artifacts up to 40,000 years old from the area. The Punic era exhibit focuses on the time of Hannibal, and masks, amulets and jewelry of the time can be seen. By far the most beautiful part of the museum starts in the Roman section, with grand mosaics adorning huge walls – plenty of fodder for the camera. Many of these mosaics are from nearby Carthage. A slightly different form of mosaics form the Christian era, and finally the Muslim display includes a self-contained Islamic museum room depicting daily life from a few centuries ago.

Read more at Suite101: Visit the Bardo Museum in Tunis: Ancient Roman mosaics and architecture in Tunisia’s capital http://tunisia-travel.suite101.com/article.cfm/visit_the_bardo_museum_in_tunis#ixzz0qGHhEbJO "

Unfortunately, the museum is under construction and we were only able to visit a small portion of the collection. However, that small portion was quite impressive. This first room that we entered (should have been the way out) was filled with Christian artifacts from the Roman era. It was surprising to see so many of these items. The Roman history in this region greatly influenced the development of the culture but this museum really began that interest for me. How did it shift and change over time? As the balance of power in North Africa shifted from Roman, to Christian, to Jewish, to Muslim the people shifted as well.

This is Tanit. I don't know why but I love her. She is a Punic symbol, Carthaginian, pre-Roman. In fact, the Punic/Carthaginian history was the most intriguing for me. Perhaps, because it is so very old. A bit of history (from Wikipedia):

"The Carthaginian Empire was a monarchy and later a republic of Phoenician city-states throughout North Africa and modern Spain which lasted from about 650 BC (independence from its metropoly Tyre) until 146 BC. It was more or less under the control of the city-state of Carthage after the fall of Tyre to Babylonian forces. At the height of the city's influence, it held a hegemony over most of the western Mediterranean. The empire was in a constant state of struggle with the Roman Republic, which led to a series of conflicts known as the Punic Wars. After the third and final Punic War, Carthage was destroyed then occupied by Roman forces. Nearly all of the empire fell into Roman hands from then on."

Tanit was a symbol used in pagan rituals and to adorn homes etc. She served many purposes, one of which was the goddess of Carthage. Her shape did not evolve and we found her plentifully available in Tunis.

This guy is Emperor Lucius Verus, 161 to 169 A.D. There are a lot of Roman heads. The reason for this is that it was cheaper to change the head of the statue as the ruler changed rather than the whole thing. Hence, lots of headless statues, and of course, their disembodied heads.
This is one sample of the architecture. The carvings in the palaces were absolutely beautiful. Ornate but not ostentatious, I loved the simplicity and decoration. The stucco is almost always decorated in some way. Never left plain. However, the patterns are repeated everywhere. There was very little variety in the shapes and designs of the tiles and carvings. One reason for this is that Islam (along with certain brands of Christianity) does not approve of the depicting of faces, people and holy things. This, in turn, led to a sort of generic architecture and decoration that is found all over the place. Typically, trees, birds, etc and geometric and floral patterns.
So, this post begins my inclusion of stuff about the people with me on the trip. This is Dr. Spencer my fearless professor. I grew to really respect and admire her on this trip. I liked her before hand but found her to be relaxed, approachable and with an interesting innocence and thirst for adventure. I asked her when she would stop doing these types of trips and she said "when I'm dead" She kept up with the walking, hiking, heat and people better than all of her younger counterparts. Her optimism and acceptance was infectious. I found myself intrigued by her story. She told us about her five children. How she had found herself a single mom, trying to provide and not receiving equal pay for equal work. She has guts this lady. I was impressed with how she handled issues and how she did not take personally the behavior of some of the students (partying and such), she did not judge them even if she did not approve. I have to say I hope I have as much spunk when I'm her age. I hope that I can lead students to do things that take guts. She was not knowledgeable about Tunisia, or the history. Not like the guide. But she took us anyway. I felt like we were in good hands and lucky to have gone with her.