Fast Times in... the Land of Friendship?

I was listening to podcast on NPR today talking about memory and time, and why time seems to move faster as we grow older. The fact is, no one knows why, but they did propose 3 different theories. One that seemed relevant to me was the idea of memory building and the exposure to new things. When we're young we are processing so many new things that it seems to take a long time. The older we are the more our brains skip over the mundane details of birthdays, holidays, the work week, marriage, and summer vacations, thus, since our minds are in a way processing and encoding less information, the time that does go by seems to go by faster and faster.

I may have mentioned this in a previous blog, but I remember thinki

ng after only 24 hours of being in Kuwait, that I'd been here a whole week! And thinking that after being here a week that I'd been here a month! Everything was so new and my brain was trying to take in so much that each day felt multiplied. Now... the sensation that the days and weeks are moving faster makes more sense to me. Of course, I'm no where near being a veteran of overseas living, but naturally, I'm more comfortable and more at home than I was during September, that month of 110 degree heat and the barrage of new people, places, and unnecessarily long free-way names. I suppose

what I'm trying to do, in a roundabout kind of way, is shoe my justification for why I haven't updated this blog in awhile: things have been moving fast! I know I don't owe anyone an explanation, but it made me feel better to do so. Now that I got that out of the way...

So...it's March and the weather is getting hotter. On the other side of the world baseball teams are making their rosters and shoe sales for cleats are going way up; it's finals week at my Alma Mater; wardrobes are making a slow transition for the changing season; and dust and pollen are making seasonal allergy sufferers suffer. Speaking of dust, we've gotten our first taste of a few mild sandstorms here in "Kuwait: The Land of Friendship". (I saw this painted on a wall at the airport and it made me laugh...then it made me a little sad.) Out came the surgical masks and in came the sand in my eyes! Where I'm from we have indoor recess because of this wet stuff that falls from the sky. Here, we have indoor recess from sand that rises from the ground...a little backward you could say. It hurts to be outside for too long, but for a short period of time in the morning the sky turned this amazing orange glow from all the sand in the air! And later in the day, looking through floating dust, the sun looked like a glowing moon, and as a friend of mine described it: a contemporary Ikea lamp.

Today it's cleared up and I was able to take a walk to the gulf, but the hours of sitting in my flat looking upon the clouds of dust and the persistent Pakistani/Indian cricket games was not without listening to some good ol' Woody Guthrie tracks about that treacherous Dust Bowl period. Different? Yes. But it was nice to feel somewhere else for at least a little bit :)

A New Decade in the Same Kuwait (and pics!)

I've never really believed in New Year's Resolutions. It always seemed to me I'd be setting myself up for failure. I suppose I casually set goals for myself throughout the year. And attempts for life improvements are such a natural decision after living gluttonously for the month of December that the first week of January seems like a good time to, I don't know, exercise, eat better, sleep regular hours, limit desserts and caffeine, and anything else that quietly hurt my body during that last month of the decade. The point...not quite sure...yeah, the year is new; Kuwait is still relatively new; but I feel oddly (well, i don't know how odd it is) comfortable here (it sounds stranger than it actually is - living in the Middle East for two years in a dry country, no car, no phone line, and no shower curtain (getting that fixed real soon, despite many bathrooms are not meant to have a shower curtain)) Some forget how Westernized Kuwait is compared to Saudi Arabia, Jordan, or Oman. It's not as difficult as it sounds (knock on wood) - shower curtain or not. Though, it can get boring. Kuwait's are one-third the population here, helping soften the culture shock since most everything is written in English. A majority of the restaurant and store employees are Filipino, cab drivers are often Pakistani or Bangladeshi, and most of my co-workers are Canadian or American. I have not at all needed my Arabic phrase book.

I feel like I should have more to write about. So much has happened...but lately it's been easier to take new events and happenings in stride. Hopefully this link to my flickr page will suffice for my lack of blogs :) http://www.flickr.com/photos/46021863@N06/

"The World is our Oyster!"

I’m sitting in my flat looking out my window at the apartment building’s worth of trash. I guess the entire building of Bangladeshis were evicted. They are definitely the lowest on the totem pole here in the Kuwaiti caste system. I remember driving by a group of them and my cab driving muttering, “Dirty Ali-Babas (thieves).” Anywho...it’ll be nice to get away for a couple weeks and not wake up to the trash heap that has been lingering for at least 3 weeks now.

It feels like most ASK teachers have left for the holidays. Some destinations I’ve heard are Thailand, Indonesia, Egypt, Kilimanjaro, Turkey, London, Spain, and the always exotic United States of America. Besides the financial savings potential of teaching in the Middle East, many love it because of its proximity to other countries. Five hours to Europe, eight-ten hours to Asia. And the conversation about travel is so...refreshingly casual. “Gonna see the pyramids of Giza...go down the Nile - no biggie.” It’s almost has the impact of planning a camping trip for Memorial Day Weekend. Talk of future trips keeps living in Kuwait much more bearable as well (not to say the living is that difficult...I haven’t felt that way quite yet, anyway.)

“What do you think of Beirut for Spring Break.”

“Sounds cool. I was thinking of ‘touring’ the Middle East in June, though. How about backpacking in Oman for Spring Break?”

“Yeah...that’s not a bad idea either.”

“We could do that and maybe Amsterdam for the Prophet’s Birthday.”

“You still thinking of Honduras for the Summer.”

“Yeah, and maybe save Southeast Asia for the end of the Summer.”

“The world is our oyster.”

That was the gist of a conversation I had with a couple friends last night over some Shisha.

Tonight it’s Istanbul...X-mas eve it’s Paris. Gots to buy me a new camera.

Sri Lanka ain't Going Anywhere

Last Wednesday I took a cab to the airport. I was getting into one of those pensive moments that can come on easily when you're riding in a car at night and looking out the window. I entered that blissful state of mind where one feels...happy. I just smiled and laughed lightly to myself, thinking, "Things are pretty damn good right now. Parent conferences are over, I'm planned (mostly) for the short week next week, Eid vacation is underway, X-mas is coming quick, and I'm headed to Sri Lanka to help break-in my brand new hiking boots. For whatever reason, I've always been the type of person that has to learn things the hard way.

First off, standing in line with Arabs is difficult enough. The too considerate and nice will never move forward. I walk in the airport with my luggage on wheels in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other. "Which airlines?" One of the employees asks me. "Qatar." I'm amidst some hub-bub, but he points backwards for me to go to the back of the line. At this point I'm too far away to really see how many people are ahead of me in line, and defintely too far to see how few check-in counters are actually being used. It's 9:05pm; my flight is at 10:35pm. At 10:05-ish I make it to the check-in counter. During that hour of waiting I lost my spot in line several times (at one point I saw how far back I'd gotten, I asked some Americans if I could cut and sneak behind them since I was right behind them earlier in the night.) The mess of people waiting to check-in was half in a line and half in a passive shoving match. Let's just say there wre several arguments and blatant disregard for the ropes that everyone is supposed to weave through. Every 20 minutes another row of ropes would get knocked over and everyone in that part of the line would lose their spot and have to fight for it back! But this wasn't even the most stressful part of the night.

When I got to the check-in, the guy sent me to another counter without giving me a straight answer. So...I have to waste a few minutes waiting in line there. The guy looks at my ticket and says, "You're flying through Doha."
"Yep." He points to one of the security guys a few yards away and tells me to talk to him. What?! Just take my freakin' luggage and let me be on my way! I can't remember if that guy gave me a straight answer either. But I walk up to the security person and he punches me in the chest...not literally, but verbally. I say, "Qatar Airlines! Where do I go?
"Qatar? Their counter is closed." Blow to the chest. He says go to the Qatar office outside. I start walking away and remember there is nothing outside. "Wait, where outside?" He tells me out side and up the stairs. (Why didn't you say that in the first place?!) Of course I go outside and I see no stairs, just people getting dropped off. By this time I'm already running around the airport, switching my luggage from one arm to the other because it's not light.

I finally found the Qatar Airlines office. And it was not easy to find...poorly labled...not customer friendly. Two, rather bored looking men, look up from their computers. I explain my situation. "Oh yeah," he says "the Qatar airlines closes one-hour before the last flight of the day." No where on my ticket was this advertised! So...I punch both of them in the chest and storm out...not really. I don't know...call me old fashioned but I'd like to have the option of checking my luggage 50 minutes before a flight and still know that the counter is open to do so. So...after some pouting, some alone time sitting cross-legged on the airport floor, and convincing myself that an impromptu trip ao another Arab country by myself is not a good idea, I took a very sad cab ride home.

It’s All Down Hill from…well, After Next Week

Feeling heavy weight…Right now I’m procrastinating from doing work. I’ve got about an hour before I’m picked up by my tutee’s driver. It really finally hit me earlier that my tutoring days are full 12 hour days…and they can hurt. And so…I’ve relearned the magic from a every teacher’s favorite drug: caffeine. It’s a terrible cycle, really: one morning you wake up tired; have a cup of coffee; feel great, so have another one after lunch to battle the body’s natural urge for a Siesta. Then…2:00 rolls around and try to keep the productivity of the day going by convincing yourself to stay late at school and have coke and a banana. Yay, you’ve had a productive day! Later, you’re in bed and starting to sweat because of all the tossing and turning you’re doing. You try to trick your brain…maybe I’ll read a book, listen to an uninteresting pod cast, or make a snack – then I’ll be sleepy! Why can’t I sleep?! you ask. The caffeine. Now the next morning sucks because your sleep did. And back at school you look at the boiling coffee and rub your eyes, wondering if they’re as red as they feel.
That has been my last couple days. And it’s probably why I’m procrastinating now. All week I’ve been thinking about parent conferences early next week – feeling the weight of that. (My team has been great with helping me prepare for that, but any extra advice would be awesome.) Today we just had a staff meeting, and our principal took the new ASK hires through the formal observation process we’ll be doing twice this year: once before X-mas and once after. Thinking of that and feeling this caffeine crash makes by body feel…heavy. I can only slouch so far. I just need to kind of focus up, back up…give myself a little pep-talk. It won’t be long before I see my desk again. I need some exercise is what I need. I can’t really justify herding 19 2nd graders all day long as exercise. I keep thinking…after parent conferences it’s all down hill.
My old supervisor asked me a couple times how am I taking care of myself outside of school. And exercise is the big one I’m not doing regularly enough here. Because well..I already got a maid! And last night I realized the amount of cooking I do plays a factor into how soon she will be back to wash my dishes. Sorry mom and dad, I know you probably don’t like that one…

Call to Prayer at Sunset

Last Thursday, on the way to see Rheumatologist, my cab driver dropped me off on the wrong street.  A friendly Arab guy gave me directions to where I needed to be, saying I was only five minutes away.  25 minutes later I reached my destination.  But along the way I was in prime location for the Call to Prayer that resounds 5 times a day everyday, being amplified from mosques all around the country.  So I took out my cell phone, and this is what I got.  I tried my best to not look like a tourist, just walking and pretending I was texting.  But I stop a couple times to catch the mosque on my right.  Enjoy!

(I believe he's singing something along the lines of "God is Great; there's is no God but God, and Mohammed is his messenger..." and so on.)

There's No Place Like Home...but I ain't Home Sick!

A friend of mine here told me last night that he’d soon be turning in his letter of resignation with the American School of kuwait. It was sad to hear the news. In the long two months I’ve been here I’ve considered him a good friend of mine. About a week ago he told me he didn’t know how much longer he would be in Kuwait, that New York/Jersey was where he belonged. I guess it was on the way home today when it kind of hit me, after another of several daily gasps in response to the ruthless Kuwait traffic, that my friend would be going home to America (which I looked at eon a world map recently and for the first time it seemed like a foreign land). And...I felt a slight home sickness come over me.
It was the comfort of home that I imagined he’d be going back to that made me feel so far from home. For my friend: no more language barriers, high-maintenance parents, blocked websites, unpredictable desert traffic (literally-on the sand with no marked lanes!), getting swindled by cab drivers claiming they can’t speak English, and no more absence of cold beer. He’ll be going home to familiarity and newspapers in English, family and trees, and hospitals that check your vitals with each appointment. He’ll have a nightlife and 24-hour diners. He’ll have the “greatest country in the world”.
I really believe in giving myself chances to “test myself”, to not always take the easy way out - not to say resigning and facing a board of admin is an easy thing to do - and to always give myself specifically chosen opportunities to improve in body and mind...hence, Kuwait. (I love to hear children practice reading because I know there is a lot of thinking going on there, a lot of essential growth and learning that’s leading them toward a fuller life. That’s how I feel living here. It’s like I’ve just learned how to read and there are all these unread words and books in front of me with the potential to sculpt my life in a very omniscient way (don’t know if I used that word correctly...I might be mixing it up with omnipotent...)). Yeah, I’ve got to take a cab or bus most everywhere I go and my alarm clock is set anywhere from 4:15 to 5:15 in the A.M. But, f*%#, I’ve got too much of a good thing going on here. I really like to reserve my use of the word “love”, but I’m not far from using it when I think about my job and the people with whom I live and work.
You know how you never realize what the best memories of your life are until a long time has passed since those events actually happened? In the first two months in Kuwait, I can feel some of these memories already scaling there way toward the upper echelon of my remembrances. Sure, the lure of home is there, but maybe I come upon some greener grasses - even if I have to sift through dunes and sandpits.