Mom's Home Remedy

Anyone who knows me, knows my mum and I aren't close. In fact, we really have nothing in common. Correction, we have 2 things in common. We both simply adore Ethan and take great pleasure in spoiling him rotten, and we both love shoes! And that's where our similarities end.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, but I seriously don't get her. And she'd say the same about me.

When I had Ethan, she had all kinds of strange foods she wanted me to eat. They all had a purpose, but I didn't really get it. Think I even rolled my eyes, with them closed of course. Whenever Ethan goes over there, she feeds him all kinds of strange things in strange ways. I usually don't really pay attention. I figure she means well, so she would never give him something that's bad for him, so who does it hurt?

One thing that I can say she gives him, and as I type this, my face is curling up and looking disgusted, is tumeric and honey. Whenever Ethan has even the slightest cough, she gives him a spoon of this. Yuck! But she swears by it, so really, who am I to complain?

This past weekend, Ethan had a cough. And of course, mum fed him the tumeric and honey. Yuck! Sunday night, Ethan was knackered and fell asleep a little after 6. Around 10:30, I could hear him coughing. And I mean really coughing. It was horrible, and I'm convinced it made the house shake. After listening to this for an hour, I decided we needed to do something. Mind you, I do live in Tanzania, where I can buy cough syrup for a child under the age of 6. However, I didn't feel like giving him any. Seriously, does it even work. So I gave in. I went into the kitchen, grabbed some tumeric and honey, and fed Ethan a spoonful. Think he was too zoned out to even realise the grossness of what I was giving him. I then crawled into bed, and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up and realised I never woke up during the night. Which means, Ethan never woke up. Which means he never coughed. OMG! I poisoned him! I went into his room to see if he was still breathing. I would like to say I went to check on him, but that would be lying. Of course, he was fine.

It then dawned on me. That stuff really worked!!!! OMG! My mother was right!!!!

Friends

I grew up in Ottawa, and had a small group of friends. Within the mosque, they were people I had known since I was five. Like any friendship, we had our ups and downs. Since leaving Canada, 11 years ago, I slowly started losing touch with people.

Every year my parents go to Canada for a few months. My mum would always come back with a story about such-and-such a person who got married, or had a baby. It was great to hear how everyone was doing, but so sad not to be there to share their joy or even be in contact with them anymore.

Every once in awhile, someone passes through Dar. My dad always tells me he met this person or the mother of that friend. And it's always a shame I didn't get to see them.

Last week my dad told me he ran into, yet another, mother of an old friend of mine. She was asking about me. Cool. Then he started talking about two sisters I knew. She had 2 daughters, is that what he's talking about? No, someone else. After about 5 minutes, I still have no clue who he's talking about. Suddenly he remembers her name... Ashifa. But she didn't have a sister. Oh, I'm so confused. Anyways, the story is she's in Arusha, will be back the next day, then back to Ottawa she goes. Shame, I miss another old mate.

The next day, I get a call. Don't recognise the number. The female voice on the other end says she's Soraya. OMG!!!!! My childhood friend!!!! (And Ashifa's cousin, not sister). So I grab Ethan, throw him in the car, and off to visit her we go.

It was so great to see the two of them. Even if it was for only a couple of hours. This time we've agreed to keep in touch. Let's hope we do.

An Afternoon at the Theatre

The IST students have been rehearsing for months on their production of Cinderella. So, of course, I had to take Ethan to see it.

We went to the matinee show on Tuesday. Ethan got all dressed up. He even wore a tie!!!!!! And, being the true gentleman that he is, he even picked me up from school. (He forgot to bring me flowers.)

It was raining, and we got stuck in traffic. We were very concerned that we would be late and miss the beginning, but it seems many people were held up, so they show started a little late.

The "other" Ethan was also there. We walked into the theatre behind Ethan and his mother. And since the other Ethan goes to IST, he's quite the popular fellow. Everyone was calling his name. Of course, my Ethan felt proud. "Look mommy, all my friends are calling me."

After our past experiences at the theatre, Ethan's becoming a pro. This time, he didn't feel the need to sleep and bury his head into the back of the chair.

The kids did a fantastic job. The play had action, music, and dancing. The story moved quickly, and kept the audience's attention. When it was over, and we started walking out, Ethan commented, "Now we have ice cream and then go back inside for the end." No love, that was the show. There is no intermission, Cinderella got her prince, what more do you want.

Apparently, Ethan wanted more.

Newest Addiction

I often see on either Facebook or Twitter, comments made by my cousin Faiza, about sending or receiving a postcard from some far off place, courtesy of Postcrossing. She even blogged about her 100th card. I love getting mail, and never do, not even junk mail, so I was quite intrigued.

Over Christmas, Faiza introduced me to Postcrossing. You sign up, and you get 5 random people to send a postcard to. Meanwhile, 5 random people will send you a card. Since I don't have an actual mailbox, but have to go to the post office to check my mail, I am not sure which was the 1st I received. All I know is, last week, I went to the post office and found five, yup 5, gorgeous postcards waiting for me!

Now I'm determined to make weekly trips to the post office. Ethan and I are getting a large world map, where we plan to pin point every country we've gotten a card from. He's loving it as much as we are.