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Visiting one of our newly constructed wells north of Sinjar Mountain, we encountered a goat herder and his family living in the pump house.

In a previous post I mentioned the family with 7 kids living in the tent next to a pump house, but this family actually took up residence inside the pump house. Based on the satellite dish in the picture, I think they might be distantly related to the Manrys!

As we were preparing to leave, the goat herder offered us glasses of fresh goat’s milk. While warm, chunky, goat’s milk may appeal to some, I had to politely decline the offer.

On Saturday, Josiah participated in the ACSI National Spelling Bee.  There was a reception the night prior for the students to meet and get to know each other.  They were each given a list of statements (I live east of the Mississippi.  I am the oldest in my family, etc) and they were supposed to find students who matched the criteria.  I know it will surprise many of you to discover that Josiah was not wandering around asking questions of kids he didn’t know.  However, he could not avoid those who came to ask him.  And so, we met Jack, a 6th grader.  He walked up to Josiah and said, “So, where are you on this list, son?”  Josiah offered him a couple options and upon seeing Josiah’s name badge said, “You’re from Fredericksburg, Eh.  You must know all about the battle of Fredericksburg then.”  When Josiah replied that he did not, Jack spent the next several minutes explaining the battle to Josiah.  Jack finished his military history lesson with “The bottom line, south won!”  Then off he went to harangue the next unsuspecting speller.  Later in the evening, each speller got up to introduce themselves.  They had to say their name, grade, school, and claim to fame.  Jack said, “I am mostly known for my shy and reserved demeanor.”  Even though the students had only known each other for 30 minutes, plenty of people laughed.  Josiah’s claim to fame was that he had lived in Australia for 2 years.  He even said, “Good Day, Mate!”  Another boy’s claim to fame was that he had memorized the Gettysburg address in 1st grade.  Some students were mortified to speak and others relished the spotlight.  I was greatly entertained by all their uniqueness.  On Saturday morning, the spelling bee started and it was very obvious that most of the students had memorized the published words list.  For the practice round, Josiah had to spell eventual.  In the 1st round, he spelled lingcod.  In the 2nd round, he spelled cavil.  In the 3rd round, he spelled geriatrics.  In the 4th round, he spelled toponymy.  In the 5th round, the judge went to the unpublished list and Josiah had to spell, escritoire.  When she said it, I knew he was done.  Unlike some of the other parents in the room, I had not provided my son with a French tutor to prepare him for the Bee.  He gave it a go and almost had it.  He spelled it escritoir.  He left off the last e, and he was out.  If only my Grandfather had not taken the e off of the end of Meloche, Josiah may have thought it best to always throw an e on the end of a French word.  He finished 25th out of 46 spellers.  Of course, including all the students who participated in the Bees leading up to the Nationals, he finished 25th out of 7000.  It sounds more impressive.  I’m fairly sure, Jack will use a similar statistic throughout his life.  Josiah was disappointed, but as the Bee went on and he began to realize the skill level of his competitors, he leaned over to me and said, “I could have never won”.  By the 6th round, there were 12 students left.  One girl asked every question she could before she spelled a word. “May I have a definition?  Is the language of origin French?  Is the root word …?, and on and on and on.”  It took her 5 minutes to spell a word.  The Gettysburg address boy was eliminated and his father protested twice to the arbitrator.  His father had a laptop computer that he showed to the judge to try to prove that something unjust had occurred.   I leaned over and told Josiah that he needed a better arbitrator.  I didn’t even have a dictionary, let alone a computer, and I certainly didn’t have a French tutor.  The boy’s father was denied twice.  The Gettysburg address boy was officially eliminated.  Jack was eliminated as well.  There was one boy who upon receiving a word, would scan his eyes back and forth as if reading pages of the dictionary in his mind.  He was eliminated by an Italian musical term.  By round 13 there were 2 students left.  The girl spelled without asking a question,  The boy only occasionally asked for a definition.  The boy spelled words I had never heard of.  He would spell with double p’s, or l’s or oui’s and I would think, “There’s no way that word is spelled that way.”  Yet, he was always correct.  I thought for sure he was going to win and yet he got thrown off by a dog breed.  He misspelled dachshund.  The girl, who never paused, then spelled susurration and cetacean to win.  When it was all over, I was happy to consider that the seemingly endless spelling hours were over.  We picked up Zeke, and on the way home he started, “M-O-M, mom, D-A-D, dad, N-O, no, Y-E-S, yes.  Apparently, it’s never going to end.

Atlanta is the headquarters of Coca Cola, so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to go to Coca Cola World. Coca Cola is a vice that I periodically swear off and just as periodically, I start drinking again. One day, when my Pastor was taking a drink of soda, he declared it not evil. Then he hesitated and said, “Well, maybe.” That pretty much sums up my stance on coke. During Abby’s Science Fair, two different students did science projects to convince people that coke was completely unhealthy. One student tried to determine which brand, coke or pepsi, would dissolve a large piece of meat quicker. They came out even. Another student used coke to clean rust off cars. In Australia, the majority of people drink lemonade (a sprite or seven up type drink, not the American version of lemonade). However, they do sell coke in stores and restaurants. To Dales dismay, they do not sell root beer in Australia. At one point we actually imported some root beer and our Aussie friends all declared it disgusting. I grew up in a root beer drinking family. The big treat was to go to the A&W and get a literal frosty mug of root beer. For awhile we went to The Pop Shop and would have bottles filled with orange, grape, and cola soda. I grew up saying pop or soda. Dale, however, grew up calling everything a coke. “Do you want a coke?”, they ask. If you say yes, they will ask you which kind…”Coke, Sprite, Root beer, Dr Pepper?” It’s very confusing. However, the majority of time it is a coke, the favored drink of all Manrys. In Louisiana, the temperature is so hot and humid, the sticky air causes you to melt into your seat once you sit down and you don’t have enough energy to get up and get yourself something to drink. So, throughout the entire visit, everyone is trying to convince their significant other to get up and get them a drink. “Honey, will you fix me a coke?”, they ask. If someone is forced to get up to go to the bathroom or check on the kids, they know that they will be filling coke orders. Dale’s family buys coke in the 2 liter bottles. So, in order to fix a coke, you fill a giant plastic cup with ice and pour the coke on top. The only Manry who drinks coke from a can is Dale’s Daddy and he hides the cans of coke in a cooler in his truck so that everyone won’t drink all his coke. If you ever receive the privilege of being offered one of his cans of coke, you are in high favor indeed. (Just pickin, Sir.) Manry’s begin drinking coke at a very young age. When Dale and I were first married, I watched one of his nephews drinking coke from his baby bottle. (Don’t worry, Tami, I’m sure they’ll never guess that it was your son.) Anyway, Coca Cola World was a must visit location because I heard you could drink coke to your hearts content. Coca Cola world consists of a lot of standing in line or as Aussies say, waiting in the q. We stood in line to purchase tickets, we stood in line to go through security, we stood in line to enter, we stood in line for the movie theater, we stood in line to see the displays, we stood in line to see the bottle works. By the time everyone gets to the tasting station, people are tired of standing in line and it is a bit of a free for all. The first movie they made you watch was dreadful, but the 3D movie of a professor trying to figure out the secret recipe was quite good. The movie took you around the world, snow boarding, had plenty of explosions, and fruit flying at you. You got squirted with water and you seat moved and shook. The bottle works that had an assembly line of robots, gears, and machines that bottle coke was interesting. I imagine Gabe will invent something like that some day. But, the highlight was the tasting station. They had soda machines with all the coke products from around the world. There was one from India that was made from vegetables. Josiah took one drink and poured it out. There was one from Italy that tasted like liquid sugar. The two we liked were Smart Apple and Kiwi Mango. Our shoes stuck to the floor of the room because of all the soda that had been spilled. There was one guy with a mop and bucket trying to clean up some of it, but it was a hopeless cause. They must run a giant floor washing machine over that floor every night. Josiah and I drank coke products until we were sick. On the way out, you can grab a bottle of coke to go. Coca Cola World is imprinted on the bottle. I put the bottles in the fridge for us to bring to the airport and drink at lunch before we flew back. We had only brought carry on luggage and the bottles were greater than 3 oz, so I knew we had to drink them. When we got to the airport, I attempted to twist off the tops and realized we needed a bottle opener. I went to the gift shop for help and the attendant kindly pulled a decorative Atlanta bottle opener off the rack and opened them for me. The other girl who worked there saw her and said, “I had to do that the other day. Everyone wants to keep their coke bottles, but they can’t take them through security with liquid in them.” As I drank my coke out of a glass bottle I remembered something Dale’s Daddy had told me… “There’s nothing better than drinking coke out of a glass bottle.” I’m not certain if I’m the first Manry to make the pilgrimage to Atlanta, but I’m sure I won’t be the last.

Last Saturday, I got the best haircut I have had in years. I went to Pop’s and Omar’s at around 1030 in the morning. There were 3 barbers working and about 6 guys in line in front of me. I ended up waiting for almost an hour before my turn came. The barber really took his time with the clippers and scissors. I didn’t think I had enough hair to keep him busy for very long, but I guess I was wrong. After he was done cutting my hair, he used the straight razor to clean up around the ears and on the neck. That was really nice. After that, he then trimmed my eyebrows. I know that my bushy brows can scare children, so everyone in the office appreciated that touch. Finally, he picked up what appeared to be a surgical clamp with some gauze on the end. After lighting the gauze, he burned the fuzz off my ears! I was in shock.

I have had many encounters with fire. I remember one time when Jeff and Rayford (our cousin) burned down the barn while I was in it. Also, the highlight of every family Christmas celebration for my mother’s side of the family included a fun little game called fireball. Joey and I almost burned down someone’s dock setting off fireworks one time. I could go on and on, but you will notice that none of these encounters included a barber.

I guess about the only thing left is for the barber to start plucking my nose hairs.

(This post was not pre-approved by the Editor prior to posting!)

While in Dahuk with Glenn, Gee took us to Ineshke to see the waterfalls. According to Gee, Saddam had these falls created for his own private resort. Once again, Saddam had all of the original inhabitants of the area removed before building his resort. The area today is rundown and neglected.

While I was in Dahuk, I had the pleasure of meeting Gee’s family. Gee’s real name is Ghufran. He is originally from Dahuk. In 1986, he ended up in Nashville, Tennessee. While in Nashville, he met Ravin, who also happened to be from Dahuk. They were later married and now have 4 children: Mateen (son - 13); Avahi (daughter - 11); Ragur (son - 8); and Vajin (son - 5). The kids are Americans through and through.

Gee calls me Boss. I told Gabe this, and now Gabe likes to call me Boss every now and then. When Gee was working in Mosul, I had promised him that I would move him to the Dahuk office at some point. When that finally happened, he moved his family from Tennessee to Dahuk. I kept promising to get back up to Dahuk to visit his family, so Gee kept telling his kids that Boss was going to visit. When I finally made good on my promise, I had a blast with the Barzanis. As I was leaving, Ragur, the 8-year old, said “Bye, Boss”. I think Ragur and Gabe could be good friends!