Parents Don’t Want Raped 8-Year-Old, Says She Shamed Them
This very sad, very strange story is from today’s BBC News. Parents of the girl, living in Phoenix, say she brought shame on them (eight years old) and they don’t want her back. People all over the US are sending money and offers to adopt her. Eight years old – all she wanted was a stick of gum.
Offers of help are pouring in for an eight-year-old Liberian girl disowned by her own family in Phoenix, Arizona, after being raped by four boys.
The girl is under the care of the Arizona Child Protective Service (CPS) because her parents said she had shamed them, and they did not want her back.
Phoenix police said calls had come in from all over the US offering money, or even to adopt the young girl.
The boys, Liberian immigrants aged nine to 14, have been charged with rape.
The case has sparked outrage across the US and even drawn condemnation from Liberian President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, an outspoken anti-rape campaigner.
“I think that family is wrong. They should help that child who has been traumatised,” Mrs Johnson-Sirleaf told CNN.
“They too need serious counselling because clearly they are doing something, something that is no longer acceptable in our society here,” she added.
Brutal attack
Media reports said the girl was lured into a shed on 16 July with promises of chewing gum by the four young boys. There, they held her down and took turns assaulting her for 10 to 15 minutes, before her screams alerted officers nearby.
The oldest suspect, a 14-year-old boy, will be tried as an adult on charges of kidnapping and sexual assault, police said on Friday. He is being held in police custody until trial.
The other three – aged 9, 10, and 13 – are charged as juveniles with sexual assault and kidnapping.
But the police said no charges will be filed against the parents.
“They didn’t abandon the child,” Phoenix police sergeant Andy Hill told AFP news agency. “They committed no crime. They just didn’t support the child, which led to CPS coming over there.”
Sgt Hill said people from eight or nine US states had called wanting to adopt the girl or donate money.
“It has been unbelievably fantastic in terms of support for the child,” he said.
I’m hoping that this traumatized little girl gets a new family who treasures her, helps her overcome this attack, sends her to school through university and helps her to prevail.
“Lord, Please Don’t Let Me Grow Up to Be a Dirty Old Man”
“So,” said AdventureMan, sitting down with me to eat a pizza after an unusually disrupted Friday, our day off, “tell me more about King David. Like wasn’t he the one who killed Goliath?”
He is asking, because the sermon at our church this morning was like eight sermons in one sermon. While the priest stuck close to the gospel and readings, he made so many good points that we had already discussed with our friend over breakfast, but there were still so many to discuss.
“Yeh, King David is problematic, once you get to be a grown-up,” I started. We have to start with the Israelis arrival in the promised land.”
“Israelites.” He corrected me.
“Yes. Them. They wanted a king. God said ‘no’ that they didn’t need a king, but they kept whining that all the other peoples had a king and they wanted one, too.”
(Please keep in mind, I am not a theologian, and this is my summary, as best as I can figure it out, so you can argue with me, I am no expert, but I DO read scripture.)
“They kept begging for a king, and I am guessing it annoyed God so much that he gave them one. (Who knows what God is thinking?) The prophet Samuel annointed Saul, and Saul became king over all the tribes of Israelites, but he got in major trouble because he didn’t do what God told him to do.”
“What did he do?” AdventureMan is fascinated.
“He was supposed to kill ALL the males of the tribe he had conquered, but he didn’t. When Samuel confronted him, he argued, then he said he would go back and kill the ones he had promised God he would kill and he had promised these guys he would not kill them, but he went back and killed them anyway. He thought going back and doing what he was supposed to do would make it all right with God, but it didn’t.”
“Where does David come in?” AdventureMan asks.
“Samuel anoints David king, at God’s instruction, so for a while there are two kings of Israel.” I explain.
“Isn’t that the one where Samuel looks at all the sons and doesn’t see the one who is supposed to be king?” AdventureMan asks. (Good! He was listening in Sunday school!)
“Yep. God told him none of the sons he saw was the one, so he asked the father if he didn’t have any other sons and he sent for David, who was out taking care of the sheep in the fields, and God said ‘that’s the one.
So David kills Goliath, and Saul invites him to come live with him in the castle, and Saul’s son Jonathan loves David and David loves him, and Saul’s daughter Michal also loves David, and David marries her. Saul knows God’s spirit isn’t with him anymore, and he has these fits when he tries to kill David because David is very successful in battle and the people love him and Saul has a sneaking suspicion that God’s spirit is with David, so he is really jealous, even though a part of him loves David. There are a lot of times he throws his spear at David, trying to kill him, and finally Michal and Jonathan help David escape totally.
Eventually Saul dies, David becomes king, but David has some odd behaviors.”
“I remember last week, or the week before, when the arc of the covenant was being moved and David told one man to stop and it ended up killing that man,” AdventureMan said, “it was supposed to be about moving God’s home on earth, but it turned into being all about David.”
“Yeh, during that same procession, he took off all his clothes and danced wildly. It may have been exultation, but there is this strange verse about Michal watching from her window and despising him in her heart. Really an odd event.”
“OK, so what happened with Bathsheba?” he asks.
“Pretty much what we heard today in the gospel reading.” I respond. “After Uriah is killed in battle, she marries the king and bears him a son who becomes Solomon, who turns out to be really wise.”
“So what is your problem with David?” AdventureMan asks.
“We all grow up thinking he is a great guy, but the bible tells us he was also greatly flawed,” I respond. “After Michal helped David get away, Saul married her to another guy, and they really loved each other, but once David became king, he sent his men to take her away from the other guy, even though he already had two other wives. He did that naked dancing thing. God made him really sick for disobeying, and being more focused on his kingliness than this responsibilities, but David repents heartily, and tells God if God will heal him, he will serve God with all his heart. I guess it is a mystery to me why God loves David so much. But it might have more to do with Solomon than with David.”
It’s not often that AdventureMan and I are so engrossed in a bible reading that we discuss it over dinner, and the discussion went on and on, because it was such a human story, and also sort of a mystery.
During the sermon, the priest made us vote as to who was wrong, Bathsheba, for bathing on her roof, or David. We all voted, every single person, for David being in the wrong.
At the end of the service, when the priest sends us forth to love and serve God, he added this prayer, which I am certain referred to King David, but it caused a collective gasp nonetheless:
“Lord, please keep us far away from pornography. Please don’t let me grow up to be a dirty old man.”
We love this priest. He is direct. Very straightforward. At the same time, he is very practical about people and their fallibilities. I suspect we will be thinking about this sermon the whole week. That’s a really good sermon!
(I found a fascinating discussion of the passage about King David dancing naked in a writing on Passionate Spirituality and Worship written by a Mennonite theologian which presents another interpretation / explanation of what is going on)
Doha Cat Television
“Cat channels?” asked Little Diamond, mystified, listening to a conversation at the dinner table.
Oh yes. He’s got the Gardener channel, two or three pigeon channels, the songbird channels, the cleaning lady channel – life is very interesting for the Qatteri Cat. Today, I set up the Quilt Room Cat Sleeping Station – he likes to be in the same room I am working in, and it is a help to me if he has his own place so he is not on top of my work. (My friend who organized my quilt room thinks the Qattari Cat is spoiled, LLLOOOLL. OF COURSE he is spoiled! He is an only cat!)
Here is the cat sleeping station:
Here is how the Cat Sleeping Station is utilized:
But then – the one remaining sort-of-non-flying-baby-pigeon has begun spreading his wings, little by little. Yesterday morning he was on top of my car – this is a giant step for a pigeon who walks everywhere. Last night, he was on the garage room – an even bigger step.
No sooner had I set up the Cat Sleeping Station then the little walking pigeon figured out how to make it to my windowsill:
Never a dull moment for the Qatteri Cat:
Baked Stuffed Pumpkin
My visiting niece, Little Diamond, is vegetarian. AdventureMan and I are not vegetarian, we laughingly say we are meatatarian or meatavore, but the truth is, we don’t eat a lot of meat, either. Last I tried a new recipe, not entirely original, but a lot of fun, and it turned out really really good. It is also surprisingly easy. 🙂
(This is not my photo, but it looks a lot like my pumpkin. It is from visual recipes, another great recipe site)
I got the idea from a quilting friend in Kuwait who baked a pumpkin full of a meat stuffing. It sounded yummy. I filled it with a channa dal / burgul mixture (recipe follows) and I added:
1 chopped apple
seeds from 1/2 pomegranate
1/2 cup slightly chopped walnuts
Here is the original recipe for the stuffing:
• 3/4 cup chana dal
• One large onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic (or more, to taste), minced or pressed
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 cup bulgur wheat
• 2 cups hot water
• 1 teaspoon salt (or less, to taste)
• 1/4 cup finely chopped parsley or cilantro
• freshly ground black pepper
Preparation:
Soak chana dal for 10-12 hours. Drain and rinse.
Sauté onion and garlic in olive oil until soft (5-8 minutes). Add drained chana dal and bulgur wheat. Sauté for about 3 more minutes, until bulgur wheat is browned (it will begin to smell heavenly). Add all remaining ingredients except pepper, bring to a boil, and lower heat.
Simmer, covered, for about 35 minutes. At this point, check to see if the chana dal is tender enough for you. If not add a quarter cup more water and simmer another few minutes or until you are satisfied. Turn off heat and let sit, covered, for at least 10 minutes. Fluff with a fork and mix in pepper.
Makes about 6 cups.
The only hard part is remembering to soak the chana dal. 😉
Pumpkin
Cut a lid off the top of the pumpkin. I usually put a notch, so I know how the lid fits back on.
You have to clean out the pumpkin, throwing out the innards (you can toast the seeds if you want). I also cut some of the pumpkin flesh into small pieces and added it to the stuffing, but that is optional.
Stuff the pumpkin tightly with the stuffing mixture, then line a baking bowl or pan with the remaining stuffing, set the pumpkin in the center, pour 1/2 cup of water – or wine, now that we are in Qatar – or broth – over the stuffing, and cover loosely with foil.
Bake at 350°F / 175°C for one hour, or more, until the pumpkin flesh is soft all the way through. Cut the pumpkin into slices to serve, and heap extra stuffing on top.
Delicious!
Additional hint – I use a Misto, a bottle you can fill with the best olive oil, pump, and spray. I spray the bowl before I put the stuffing in, to make cleaning easier, and I also spray the pumpkin to give it that glisten. It is very sparing with the olive oil, but you still get the taste.
Little Diamond asked if it were a potiron or a citrouille, two words the French use for pumpkins, but none of us could say definitely. I thought it was a potiron, because it is more squat and I thought citrouille were taller and oranger, but Little Diamond actually looked it up online after dinner.
AdventureMan reminded me of the time in Tunisia when Halloween was coming and I went to the market and bought a whole pumpkin to carve. I don’t think it was really a pumpkin at all, it was a huge pumpkin-like squash, and it was sold in slices, by the kilo. I bought the smallest one I could find, but it still caused quite a commotion, buying the whole squash, not just a slice.
And I was thinking, too, of my French friend who shared her recipe with me for the very best pumpkin pie I have eaten in my life, ever.
Doha Parking Nightmare
You could think of it as an adventure, as adventure can cause the same heart-slamming rush of adrenalin. Little Diamond and I were late to the fabric souks area, looking for a match to some pants she has loved and needs copied, as they have irrevocably split in a critical area. We circled the Souk al Diraa multiple times, hoping a spot would open up, one of a couple hundred cars circling, hoping for a spot.
Sharp-eyed Little Diamond spotted a sign for public parking. I’ve never noticed it before – it led us to a building in front of which I often park, it is now totally empty of stores. There is a sign as you enter the parking, which is all above ground, that “only Ministry personnel” can park on the first level.
We had started up the winding ramp when after two curves, we were in total dark. I have my sunglasses on, and I am desperately trying to get them off, but even when I get them off, I can’t see, we are in total darkness on an upward twisting ramp and all I can think of is what if someone is coming up in a hurry behind me and hits me???
“The light! Turn on the car lights” shouts Little Diamond, who is allowed to shout at me when she gives me good ideas. Oh yeh! Car lights . . . since I have never driven this car at night, I don’t exactly know where they are, but I make a guess and thanks be to God, the lights come on and we crawl up two more levels until we begin to see some light appear.
We check out every level – every level is full. On level three, we finally find a spot, and hurry down the filthy stairs to check out fabrics so we can get back to the tailor before he closes. As the tailor had said – we cannot find the exact fabric, but we find a fabric which is about a 90% match and that will have to be good enough.
As we head back to parking lot – the surrounding sidewalk is crumbling and one entry is chained off – we find the elevators to take us up. “Not working!” says a man standing nearby, so we head for the nearest stairwell, and almost gag on the way up. I think people maybe sleep in there at night – there are some terrible sights and smells.
There are footprints, even high on the walls:
As we exit the stairwell on our floor, we are met with the sight of a totally burned out car:
Fortunately, on the drive out, there is no area where the lights are burned out, and we drive comfortably the four levels down to the exit.
I normally get the these souks before nine in the morning and I can always find a parking spot, do my shopping and be out in a couple hours, max. I will NEVER, NEVER again, park in this parking lot. I would forego a visit to the souks rather than park in this parking lot again. It is a danger to your health!
The Low Tech Solution
Two days ago, a cleaning crew came and cleared out the pigeon nest entirely and cleaned up the area. The parent pigeons are gone – I think they found a more congenial dwelling elsewhere. The adolescent pigeons still like to spend the night in our entry.
My husband thinks we need a board with longer nails. The maintenance crew suggested taking out the center light in the entry, the one they perch on, sleep on, and from which they poop-bomb our entry. It is a brilliant idea – the low tech solution. They said they have tried it in other houses in the compound and it works.
We don’t want to be mean to the pigeons, but we sure hate pigeon poop in our entry! I have a shower curtain rod that I bang against the center light, and I bought a squirt bottle (there doesn’t seem to be a water pistol in town; where is Toys R Us when you need them??) and squirted the persistent adolescent who wants to nest here, but . . . he LIKED it! Curses, foiled again! I am guessing taking out the central entry light will do the trick; that seems to be their favorite perch.
Qatteri and Kuwaiti Gazingas
We’ve lived in so many different places and dealt with so many currencies, you’d think we’d be used to it by now, but there is always that confusing time at the beginning, when you are mentally trying to multiply and divide and figure out how much things cost. Generally speaking, we call it the gazinga problem, gazinga being our family generic term for whatever currency we are currently using.
I think the cost of food in Qatar is cheaper, but to figure that out, I have to think what it costs here, translate that from Qatteri riyals to dollars, and then to translate that to Kuwaiti dinars. For example, the Vanilla Caramel coffee stuff I like is 2.250 in Kuwaiti dinars (when I can find it) which is about $8.25, and in Qatar, it is QR 15.50, which is $4.25, a significant difference.
Life in Kuwait became much simpler when my Kuwaiti friend told me “Just think about a Kuwaiti dinar being roughly equivalent to the dollar. Otherwise, you will go crazy.” He was right. When I would go grocery shopping and just think of it in dollars, life became much simpler. Every now and then, when I would multiply by 3.65 to figure out the cost in dollars, I would gasp and put the item back on the shelf. Life is simpler if you just go with it. Mostly, I would look for locally produced vegetables, eggs, etc., and that kept grocery costs down. It’s the imported stuff that gets crazy.
So, irrationally, when I have 500 riyals in my pocket, I feel RICH. I feel secure and protected. (500 riyals {$138} is approximately equivalent to 35KD {$128}). I can’t tell you the number of people who come into town in Qatar and offer to take us to dinner (we’ve learned – we always carry extra cash!) – and then when the bill comes, they are stunned – and embarrassed – that they don’t have enough riyals to cover the bill. It’s not that the places are that expensive – although some of them are – but that it all adds up so quickly, and a couple hundred gazingas may not cover a dinner for four.
In both Kuwait and Qatar, I make it a point to quickly learn where all the cash machines are, the ones for my bank, and the ones that you can use your US credit card in and get cash. You just never know when you are going to find something in a shop that doesn’t take credit cards, or find that you are low on cash and still have a couple stops before you get home. Like knowing where the clean toilets are; it’s a matter of survival. 🙂
In Qatar, 100 Qattari riyals is about $27.50, so when doing rapid calculations, I figure it is around $25, then I add a little.
We are working on getting rid of the pigeons. It took a while – when AdventureMan went to the management and said he wanted the pigeons gone, they didn’t understand him. We say “pijjens” and they say “oh! pij-ee-owns!” The cleaning crew came and cleared out the awful nest yesterday, and only one pigeon came to try to spend the night. I threw pencil erasers at him (I had to gather them all up this morning) and then clanked a big stick. Today I am going to buy a water pistol.
The cleaning crew asked if I wanted to have my windows washed, and oh, yes, I did. It really helps to have lived here before. I know that if you want your windows washed, you can go to the desk, they will schedule it and they charge you around 500 riyals – still a bargain, by stateside standards – about $128 for a two story house with some very hard-to-get-to windows. But if you ask the cleaning crew on the compound, they will come during their time off and charge about half – and all the money goes to the guys who clean the windows. I now have bright, shiny windows – I don’t think they had been washed on the outside since I left over three years ago. Now – they sparkle!
Banks in Kuwait and Qatar are way ahead of banks in the US with their use of technology. When I took money out of our bank account yesterday, AdventureMan called me immediately and asked if I had just taken money out of the account. They had SMS’d him what had been taken out and what was left!
My household goods were delivered two weeks ago today. There are still a few remaining little nests of things that need places, but – not much! We walk around the house with that satisfied feeling of knowing things are in their place, where we can find them insh’allah, when we need them, and there are no more boxes, no more piles – it looks pretty good! Even AdventureMan got his room all in order – Now he walks out of his room and says “Oh! It feels so good to walk in and everything is put away!” and he has a huge grin on his face.
Little Diamond arrives tomorrow night. We can hardly wait. 🙂
Progress
The living room is now an island of sanity, but the women’s majlis has descended into semi-insanity until I get the book cases there together.
The kitchen remains an island of sanity, as does the guest bedroom.
The master bedroom has some insane corners.
The office and the quilt room are the big challenge.
One little Pigeon has flown, but . . . he doesn’t seem to be able to get back to the ledge. He is hiding behind a large flower pot on my porch. Theother one shows signs of being interested, but hasn’t taken the leap. I wish the little one on the ground would fly – until he does, he is just . . . cat food!
And in case any of you are really reading this far – I’m going to become a grandmother! WOOOOO HOOOOOOO!
Sealine Resort, Doha, Qatar
Qatar just isn’t that big. You can take a day trip, and actually, it’s more like a half a day trip, or even an hour trip. AdventureMan wanted to find his way to Wakra and to the SeaLine Resort, and I wanted to see the big dunes, not as big as in Namibia but pretty impressive, with their sinuous lines.
There are about a hundred different vendors renting out ATVs for racing across the dunes, even in this heat, and it was not easy finding virgin sand dunes, untracked by ATV wheels. We went on an ATV dune safari in Namibia, out of Soussesvlei Lodge, and it was fantastic. I love ATVs. I expect that anything that is so much fun can’t be good for you. It’s probably bad for the dunes . . . anyone?
When we got to Doha before, six plus years ago, I rented a limo and driver to take me and Little Diamond out to the resort and dunes. He kept showing us things on the way, like Wakra, etc. and we were a little restless. But it only took like 20 minutes, even with all the sightseeing, and we were there. We ran up the dunes, we looked for seashells, we walked in the sea, we did everything – and we were back in Doha by 11 in the morning. We laughed – we hadn’t realized, looking at the map, how close it was. The driver must have thought we were crazy.
Sealine also looked a little seedy to me – then. This time when we drove up, it looked very different. It looked all spruced up. The people working there had on clean, neat looking uniforms, and they looked like they were doing their jobs. We took a look at the chalets (cool) and at the villas (also cool) right on the umm. . . errr. . . SeaLine! Waves rolling up, almost to your doorstep – it is pretty lovely. We were planning a stay there when we noticed multiple vehicles at most villas and chalets – and whereas we love to go to sleep to the sound of waves, we kinda thought hmmm. . . this could be a place where the party starts around midnight.
It’s beautiful.
This shot is taken from the main section of the hotel, but to each side, where the chalets are and the villas are, the sea is almost right on your doorstep.
Qatar is a conservative country. There are separate areas for men who are not accompanying their wives and children.
And there is a whole different kind of beachwear! (I blurred the faces to protect their privacy.)
As we were leaving, we spotted two little Qatteris finishing their brunch with gusto!
Ready to Fly Away
The baby pigeons are up, walking around and fluttering their wings – until I open the window to take a photo, and then they go into the if-we-hide-our-faces-she-can’t-see-us-mode. Daddy pigeon makes noises deep in his throat which I understand to mean “Go away.”
This may be the last photo. They seem to me to be getting ready to fly, and once that happens, we will clean out the area and hope they don’t come back. I love the sound of their voices, but I totally hate pigeon poop.
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