Hellen Keller. On Sheikh Zayed Road.

Fetching my 9-year-old Liam from the school library, we bumped into his school mate, whom I'll call 'Little A'.  This is the same sweet pal whose massive SUV Liam had ridden in, free-style you might say, with no seat belt on the infamous Sheikh Zayed Road, several weeks ago.  Little A, a gentle and super-smart boy, who according to Liam's teacher nudges Liam to care about his 'potential' in class, was very excited to see me and to ask when Liam could come around to play after school again.  I said well, maybe tomorrow.  Check with your Mom and I'll be happy to drive Liam over, as I had promised myself that Liam would not again ride in that car, with the family's driver, who doesn't bother to make the kids belt up.

But then Little A says:  But it's ok now.  We found a seat belt.  Under the seats. Liam can wear it.  

OK, I'm thinking.  Maybe my freaked-out-safety-mom lecture to Liam about being assertive in the cars of friends has trickled down.  Maybe he said something to Little A about not being allowed to ride home with him any more.  Let's explore this.  So I say: Well that's great.  I am glad you found the seat belts.  You will wear one too.  right?  

At this point, Mr. O'dell, the Canadian librarian takes an interest.  Mr. O'Dell says: Yes, everyone needs a seat belt.  

But Little A says:  No no no.  We are Muslim we have Allah.  And we didn't find all of the seat belts anyway.

Mr. O'dell and I shoot each other a look that says two things:  Number One:  Oh boy, can you believe what we are hearing?  And Number Two:  Here is an opportunity to make some impact, take some action, say something meaningful.  Or not.

And I say: Well Little A, that is not quite enough. And besides we are not Muslims anyway.  (I am now sounding as illogical as Little A).

Little A says:  No, no, no, don't worry.  Liam can wear a seat belt yes.  But then he holds out his hand.  And kind of like Helen Keller, he draws onto it with the other hand, almost as if signing the letters of his name.  We say this thing, says Little A, and we do this thing on our hand, which he shows me again.  You know, it protects us.  

Like a prayer? I say?  Can you say this prayer for Liam.  (All the more illogical I become as I reason with this child..)  And what about you.  Can you please ALSO wear your seat belt in the car?  You know, all the time?

Little A says (chuckling at this point, I am sure at the thought of his saying prayers for little Christian Liam):  OK.  Yes. I can do it for Liam too. And we can wear our belts.

I mean it Little A.

Yes, OK, yes. Can Liam come to my house then?  

And then I say, you know Little A, Mr. O'Dell and I, we are North Americans, safety is so important to us, and scientists know it's true that seat belts protect your life.  Keep you alive.  Right?

And Little A says, more seriously this time:  Really?  OK I see.  Can Liam come to my house then?  We will wear our belts.

Yes, I say, he can come.   But I have plenty of time.  I don't mind driving you guys myself.

Romance, Intimacy and S-E-X on the Radio

The irony of maintaining your adventure blog is having the least amount of time for it when the most newsworthy and bloggable items are happening.  As well, when you find yourself unemployed, and imagine the bliss of having time for  'things that matter', you end up with much less free time than when you were giving 50 odd hours a week to your work.  What I mean to say is I how remiss I feel at not quite keeping up with this blog as I would have hoped.

But enough remorse, especially since I have two hours on my hands and lots to share.  But not to worry, I won't carry on here for pages.  Instead I vow anew to post more frequent sound bites (perhaps every Tuesday) about what I and my Brady-Watts clan are up to here in the United Arab Emirates, and for today, I'll be tooting my own horn.

Twice recently I landed on a radio show called 'Talking of Books', sponsored by Magrudy's bookshops here in Dubai.  My dear friend Thom got me roped in to the program to talk about the classic 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn', and I must say my debut was thrilling.  A bookish endeavor indeed, this going on the radio about a book.  But for someone who's always enjoyed a good yarn, and being rather militant about book clubs over the years, this was a welcome and thoroughly enjoyed opportunity.   During my first spell on the show, I got to talk about American culture, lovable characters, a daring author (Betty Smith) and I became so comfortable in my skin that the host invited me back again, for a chance to be the 'lead reviewer'.  So on I went, this time for an hour spot about a deep and quirky book called 1Q84, in which we are taken on a strange journey through modern Tokyo, through the eyes of a disturbed 17 year old girl.  The challenge in both cases was to lay out the themes, some of them rather adult-ish (erotic memories of your mom and a strange man, etc.), while not offending our mixed Western-Arab audience with reference to S-E-X and J-E-W-S.  Though I sweat through all layers of clothes both times on the show, I found the confidence to almost pull it off, using words like 'intimate' and 'bedroom' in place of 'sexy' and 'sex' (though a kind friend told me never again to refer to myself as a 'novice' on the radio waves), and as a result I've been asked to be a moderator at the Emirates Lit Fest next year.  Wish me luck!