Cultural Glimpse

Enjoying diversity

Category: Community

Chucke’s Anthem

Okay, so where did my son want to have his birthday this year? The same place his sister had it at, Chuck E Cheese. Some of the highlights were that Chuck E Cheese had a makeover, and now has a “younger look.” He’s still the same cool guy on the inside.

Chuck E. Cheese’s was founded by Atari founder Nolan Bushnell. The first location opened in San Jose, California in 1977 and was labeled as the first family restaurant to integrate food, cheap animated entertainment, and an indoor arcade. As the restaurant became increasingly successful, he began to franchise. As of May 2009, Chuck E Cheese operates 542 restaurants.

The birthday took place a few weeks ago, during which time I thought, I’m not coming back to this place for a long long while. Then yesterday I ended up there once again, with my cousin and her kids. By the time I came home, I was going to barf – from the hours of noise, noise, noise!

When I was single, I used to think “you’d never catch me in this place.” Yup! The joke is on me.

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Summer is Here – Oh Goodness!

Just two days into summer and I’m already exhausted! We’ve gone to the pool a number of times and today, it was the start of those fun Sunday beach outings where you stand under the sun for hours keeping an eye on the kids as they build sand castles and swim in the water. Then after hours of catering to their needs, and feeling dizzy in the process, you get someone crying, “I don’t want to leave!” which continues to pound in your head on the drive home.

At home, you have to unpack the coolers, give the kids a bath and remove the sand that clings to the bottom of the bathtub. By the time you have a chance for a breather, or to write a post on your blog, you get “Mom, I’m hungry.”

And that’s just the beginning of summer.

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Fabulous Teachers

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For two years prior to enrolling my son into nursery school, he would watch his sister enter her pre-school class, then her kindergarten class. Each time, he tried to sneak in with her as well. I’d pull him out, kicking and screaming.

This year, he finally got his turn. He attended school twice a week, two hours a day and had two wonderful teachers – Mrs. Sharon and Mrs. Lisa. Mrs. Sharon was so full of life that when she came outside at the end of the school day to inform the parents what the children did in class, I felt exhausted just watching her energy. Her passion for her job and her love for the children was really a sight. It would be raining or snowing or freezing cold, and she would be out there in short sleeves, excited to talk about our kids. It was truly amazing and reminded of when Marilyn Monroe sang in front of the soldiers one cold winter. She was in a sleeveless dress, not thinking about the weather but concentrating on what she loves to do.

Yesterday was the last day for nursery school, so we may not be seeing Mrs. Sharon or Mrs. Lisa for a while, but we will definitely never forget my son’s first teachers.

Wax On, Wax Off

When two of my nieces were only nine years old, I began taking them to work, a family owned video store. Their job was to fill the buckets with soap and water, and walk between the aisles, putting the movies down one shelf, washing the shelves, drying them with a towel and then putting the movies back up. There was a very specific system to it, and whenever they would complain, I reminded them to “Wax on, wax off” – for those of you who remember Karate Kid – and that one day they would thank me for it. Their reward was a free lunch which consisted of a sandwich, drink and a snack, and as they got older, they received an additional five dollars.

This was some twenty years ago. Needless to say, they turned out to be a smart and successful bunch. One became a lawyer, the other a chiropractic.

These days my cousin, a manicurist, and I use the same techniques on our daughters that the women in our family have used for centuries – working hard and loving every bit of it. It never hurts to have children get a taste of responsibility very early on!

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27 Years Ago

Babba

Twenty seven years ago today my father passed away. He was a very pleasant man, full of life and laughter. I didn’t get to know him too well, as I was a young teenager when he died (I knew he loved “Sandford and Son” and “The Jeffersons” and will never forget the way in which he laughed wholeheartedly as he watched each episode). He’d spent the majority of his days in Iraq working hard to support his eleven children. Then we immigrated to the United States, where he fell ill shortly afterwards as our family experienced a big struggle.

But I do know this – I got my love for books from his side. I remember him often walking around with an Arabic/English dictionary in his hand. He was a translator for the train station in Iraq. I also got my passion for education and my independence from him and his sisters, one of whom left the village of Telkaif to go study at the University of Baghdad. This was in the 1950s! Another aunt, who was a single mother because her husband went missing in some war, studied to be a nurse and became the midwife of Fallujah.

Well, I did not get to spend enough time with my father on this earth. But I am often visited by his energy, which especially during adversaries gives me strength to push ahead.

Rock Climbing –Get me out of Here!

My mom went into the hospital exactly one week ago today. The doctors didn’t find anything wrong with her and she was released three days later. However, the drama associated with her hospitalization lasted a few days longer. What kind of drama? Well, picture one of the Real Housewives episodes. No wonder I love those shows. I can so relate.

I guess the situation was so stressful that everyone began to play the blame game. We pointed fingers, with each sibling accusing the other of doing more/less than her/himself (it was unanimous, in my opinion, that the girls did a hundred times more than the boys). At one point, the conversation got so heated – right there in the hospital room – I thought the Beaumont staff was going to politely kick us out. They didn’t. Probably they’re used to Chaldean Americans yelling when trying to have a diplomatic conversation.

Well, the action did my mom some good. She’s always happy to have her children gather all around, worry and fret over her. Once she’s done with us, she clobbers us with guilt and more guilt. And she’s not even Jewish! Well, technically she is Jewish since her ancestors are from the land of the Chaldeas, the birthplace and home of Prophet Abraham.

Yes, to please my mom is like trying to climb a mountain and never getting to the top. Some days you end up feeling as my daughter did in the video, when she couldn’t get to the top! You feel like screaming, “Get me out of here!”

I Miss My Caribou

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Caribou Coffee on Rochester Rd in Troy had been my stop for over fifteen years where I ordered my favorite Carmel High Rise with nonfat milk. The place resembled a log cabin and had the friendliest baristas. One of the guys there, Aaron, had been there since I could remember. Though he didn’t pronounce it right, he knew me by name. “Hi, Weem,” he would say, which was close enough.

During the winter I’d sit at the table near the fireplace and during summertime, I’d sit at the table near the windows. Sometimes in the summer, I’d sit outside. I loved the place. There were daily trivia on the board and if you guessed the right answer, you got ten cents off your drink – which at approximately $4.00 and up a drink wasn’t much, but that’s beside the point. There was another board where customers used chalk to finish sentences like “I stay awake for….” The Caribou cups and napkins were unique in that they also had words-to-live-by that were made by average people. There was also a picture of John and Kim Puckett, the founders of Caribou, and their story.

John and Kim Pucket were newlyweds, backpacking through Alaska in 1990 when on the summit of Sable Mountain in Denali Park, they decided they wanted to build a company to capture the spirit of accomplishment they felt during the climb. They began plans to build a special company that would bring the mountain experience into local neighborhoods where customers could find a place to “escape the daily grind” each and every day. On the descent, they saw a herd of wild caribou. The beauty and incessant movement of these caribou seemed to be a fitting name for a company that aspired to both rapid growth and high quality.

The Pucketts sold their interest in the company in 1998 for $120 million to Atlanta-based Crescent Capital, which has since changed its name to Arcapita. Since opening, the chain has expanded to 415 locations in 16 states and the District of Columbia, making it the second-largest operator of non-franchised coffeehouses in the United States, after Starbucks Corporation.

Two weeks ago when I went to Caribou I noticed the tables were dramatically moved around and it just didn’t have the same feel. For that reason, when I was heading there Sunday morning, I considered if I should go to Panera Bread instead. The idea was playing in my head when I noticed that Caribou was shut down. It had closed. I kept driving, thinking of all those years that I sat in that place writing novels, poetry, essays, articles, scripts, memoirs, query letters, homework assignments and grant proposals.

Mommy and Daughter at Work

Like many of the women in my family, my cousin Amy is very creative.  Her twelve year old daughter has been following in that creative path since she was five or maybe younger. So when my kids and I went to their home yesterday to get a pedicure and a manicure for myself, I found the mommy and daughter team hard at work on yet another project (my cousin does umpteen creative things).

To the backbeat of Arabic music, she and her daughter were making jewelry for a women’s show she is involved in at St. Marino’s coming up on April 9th. Some of their stuff is really unique – such as the custom made rosaries that can be worn as a necklace or placed anywhere, like the car’s rear mirror, which Chaldeans are famous for doing. Each rosary is specialized with an entire family’s individual names. I love that!

As my cousin’s orange winged Amazon, Parker, gets to sit in a cage overlooking the attraction, it’s not difficult for him to announce his needs. Hey, orange winged Amazons have to eat too!

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It’s the Life of Pee, not the Life of Pi


Feeding Katie & Lucy

After buying a DVD copy of “The Life of Pi”, my friend Linda suggested we have a movie night with Chinese carry-out for the adults and a pizza for the kids so neither of us would have to cook.

We cuddled on the couch, underneath blankets and besides a nice fireplace. The kids and dogs (there were three of them) behaved fairly decently – except for my son who ten minutes into the movie said, “This is a long movie” and later he kept interrupting with questions such as, “Is the tiger going to die?” At one point, he spilled his glass of milk and one of the dogs, Katie, rushed over to lick it off the carpet. During dessert, however, when he had two or three servings of jello and ice cream, he was pretty quiet.

We watched the movie, and periodically looked outside through the glass door where Linda laid vegetables for her bunnies, squirrels, deer, one of which is pregnant, and whichever other animals decided to stop by. The deer didn’t come while we were there, but a fat bunny did.

The movie had a great ending, one which the kids and the dogs didn’t understand. They just enjoyed the food part of the night. On the drive home, we were exhausted. My son fell asleep in the car and when I was carrying him inside the house, he said in his sleep, “It’s the Life of Pee, not the Life of Pi.”

My Writers’ Group

Rochester Writers' Group

I was determined to make it to the Rochester writers’ group meeting last night and much to my surprise, I did it! It had been years since I was able to attend, not counting the Christmas potluck parties held every year Mary’s house. Mary is the leader of the group.

So how did I make it there? I improvised. I called my uncle’s aunt, picked her up and had her watch the kids at the Thomas and Friends train table at the back of the bookstore – my son’s favorite place – while I sat with the adults, some whom I’d known for many years, some of whom I just met.

I listened to a meaningful poem, a hip novel excerpt, a drastically improved and revised first chapter of another novel, a beautiful memory of a romance, one soldier’s experience in the army, and a man’s heartfelt story about caring for his dying father – though I must admit the parts in the caretaker’s story about the feces were a bit much, especially when enjoying a hot cup of hazelnut macchiato, a new drink I was excited to try at Barnes & Noble.

I received delightful feedback on the material I read – even clapping! It was like the olden days, when I was in doubt about some of the scenes in my chapter and once I read them to this group, I knew what worked, what didn’t, and I walked away feeling a sense of peace and accomplishment.

The biggest difference between then and now is that yesterday, in the midst of the meeting, I began to hear my son’s voice creeping up behind me. I turned around and there were my kids with my uncle’s wife.

“We’re hungry,” my daughter said.