Dr. Dish-Dash, His Offspring

Thankfully, Sayed See-Through (or, Ustaaz Thobe-n-Thong) seems to have only been in the ‘hood for a week of wedding celebrations. I can now stand tall and look straight ahead rather than at the ground. He packed up his Suburbans with his wives and plethora of children and headed back. It seems he left one part of his family behind, as a furnished rental is still full of little ones. This family must not be a city-dwellers, as these kids are a little scruffier than usual for West Amman, and the very definition of mushkaljiyiin.

The play all day in the street, oblivious to the cars;and some of them should really be in school.  A taxi pulled up yesterday, and while the driver was helping his passenger carry  bags of groceries to the door,  the kids actually got in his taxi and started honking and playing with lights and wipers. I could not believe my eyes, and neither could the taxi driver! He yelled at them and shooed them out, then the six of them started pelted his car with rocks and dirt-clods as he drove off. The street is covered with dirt and rocks they have thrown at cars.

They spend the days climbing our gate, trying to get Tasha’s attention. Her poor little doggy voice is hoarse  from barking and she and I are BOTH ready for Prozac as a result. I had to shut the shutters so she can’t hear the kids, or she goes nuts. Yesterday while I was running errands they came into our yard and took a bunch of stuff! I chased them down and got the toys back, they were sweet but don’t seem to get the concept of private property. the Kounouz are quite offended, but I told them they can pray and accomplish more with that than getting mad. My landlord, Mrs. Neighborhood Watch,  has yelled at them to no avail. It is only a matter of time before the two Masters of The Neighborhood discover who has been putting dirt on their cars. The two have them have gotten into fist fights with unsuspecting shabaab  who unknowingly part in their personal, unmarked street-side spaces.

These things make me ready for a vacation. I should be thankful, though, that the kids don’t wear dish-dashes.