FAREWELLS, FRUSTRATIONS & FINAL DETAILS continued

Someone who hates goodbyes as much as I do should have been born and raised (and eventually die) in the same small town. That, however, is not my destiny; within me I carry the genes of a world traveller. I am a rolling stone, my home is where I hang my hat, my feet are itchy, and my heart yearns for adventure. I was a teenager when I first heard the saying"ships that pass in the night". That expression appealed to my young, romantic, traveller's heart and I naively envisioned and anticipated many such encounters over the years. My older, more sceptical, traveller's heart has learned that the excitement of meeting new people, sharing new experiences and opening your heart to new friendships is balanced by the sadness of parting and the inevitability of losing touch with many of those friends as the years pass.

I have been blessed to spend the last three months in an exotic location, doing the work I love and getting to know an interesting, well-travelled, eclectic group of people. I have laughed, argued, philosophized, empathized, and grown as a human being thanks to all of these 'ships that I have passed in the night'. I humbly say farewell and thank you to all of you, I must say a few extra words to some of you. David( who reminds me so much of a dear, Scouse cousin), thank you for the laughs, for watching my back, and for teaching me that honourable administrator is not an oxymoron. Flo and Rachel(two lovely young ladies from England and New Zealand), you are a credit to the parents who raised you, being apart from my lovely young daughters was easier to bear because of your light and laughter. Bruce and Gabby, my fellow Canucks(from Winterpeg, Manisnowba of all places!), our acquaintance has been brief but eminently enjoyable. It's been great hanging out with you these past two weeks, Gabby; and thanks for colouring my hair for me! Karl, Michael, Peter and Cathy, my afternoon tea buddies, thanks for the laughter, the colourful conversations(I've learned a lot about men's perspective on women thanks to 'the man from Wigan' and 'the man from Northern Ireland'!)the advice and support. Thank you Cathy for being such an easy-going room mate and thank you Karl for being my guide and 'chaperone' on many enjoyable walks. Sarah and Dea, two strong, caring, amazing, South African ladies, you have both touched my heart deeply. I feel that if distance did not separate us we could become close, life-long friends. Steven and Gideon, husbands of Sarah and Dea, respected colleagues; it has been a pleasure knowing you. Stay in touch, people, and know that if you ever make it to my 'hood you have a place to stay. Another famous quote comes to mind; "...parting is such sweet sorrow.." - sorry, William, you are wrong on that one - there is nothing sweet about it, there is only sorrow.

I've spent too much time, wasted too much energy in the last three months venting about how frustrated I am, how difficult things sometimes are. There is nothing like putting things down, in black and white as the saying goes, to help you put things in perspective. My frustrations pale in comparison to the richness that has come into my life through my students, my colleagues, and my experiences here in this country and in this culture that are so different from my own. I have been offered a position teaching English as a Second Language at Princess Noura University in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I thought I would be there by now. I thought I would be settled into my new place - my own place! - on a western compound. I thought I would be in the swing of teaching my new classes. I thought I would be earning a new salary not long after I was last paid from this job. I thought wrong! The recruiting company that hired me has not, in my opinion, behaved well. I am still waiting for my Saudi visa to be sorted out and for a flight to be booked for me to Riyadh. In the meantime I am in Kuwait illegally(my visa expired on October 26), I have been told I can no longer stay in the apartment that was part of my contract(fair enough, I finished work at the school on November 3)and I haven't been paid since the end of October - it is time to move on. There was a time when I would have been a lot more frustrated and stressed out by these circumstances, I think I'm mellowing with age(when one of my daughters remarks on my passionate dialogue or my assertiveness - they've been known to say I am aggressive but I maintain that I am assertive - I tell them "This is me mellow, you should have seen me 30 years ago!). Tomorrow morning I am getting on a plane and flying to England. I am going to spend time(hopefully not too long because I need to join the ranks of the employed again soon)with family. I am going to embrace the sisters I have not seen in 6 years, I am going to have tea with cousins I may not see again for many years, I am going to indulge my appetite for pork(forbidden in this Muslim country)and imbibe a few rum and pepsi! I wanted to stop in England on my way to Kuwait last summer to see my family but that didn't work out so instead of being frustrated by the delays and stressed out about such minor details as money, a home and a job I am just going to go with the flow here. I am going to take full advantage of this opportunity the universe has sent me. Thank you universe! That takes care of the farewells and frustrations, I will update when the final details have been wrapped up!

FAREWELLS, FRUSTRATIONS & FINAL DETAILS

WHAT THE HELL HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO ?! (Part Two)

Before I forget, the picture that I posted was taken the first week I was here when a group of us were visiting the Grand Mosque.  We are all wearing abayas because women can't go into a mosque unless they are covered.  We were given a tour by a very friendly, informed young man, served with cold water afterward, and felt very welcome.  The mosque is incredibly beautiful-marble, Indian teak, glass windows from Italy, the best materials and furniture from around the world. 



Back to my Kuwaiti saga!  I've been silent for the past three weeks because I've been processing, reflecting, and considering my options.  I didn't want to update my blog until I had everything sorted out.  I don't have everything sorted out yet, but I feel it's time to get it down, put it out there.

Along with the ineptitude involved in arranging my flight, and the clocking in/out situation, one of the company administrators tried to enforce a policy of not allowing us to have friends of the opposite gender in our flats(that means our apartments for my Canadian people!) a move that was fought-and won-by our principal(bless his Scouse heart!).  Last Wednesday I came home from school(after a particularly bad day that had started with the principal telling me about not getting the esl position) and was informed-in very broken English- by the guy who takes care of our building-that I had a room mate!  I was put in a 2 bedroom flat when I arrived and knew there was a possibility of sharing but this was ridiculous!  I had been given no warning whatsoever.  This man had gone into my apartment when I was not there, taken my suitcases and some clothes I had put in the second bedroom and taken them into my bedroom-where I had 2 piles of dirty clothes(including underwear!) on the floor because I intended to do laundry as soon as I got home.  I was freaking furious!  This is indicative of how this company treats its teachers, which(along with the conditions at the school)explains the high staff turnover.  My new 'roomie' had just arrived after a long flight that originated in Detroit and must have wondered what the hell she'd gotten herself into when she encountered a hopping mad, crazy Canadian woman!  As it turns out my American colleague has friends and a fella here and didn't even spend one night in the flat(now living somewhere else), but that doesn't change how this situation was handled, or the fact that I could come home one day next week and find they have moved someone else in here!  And then there is the man they hired to run a building with a large, international, English speaking population- a man who barely speaks English.  It's really difficult to get anything fixed/sorted when you can't make yourself understood.  And the situation is not just frustrating for us; can you imagine not being able to understand English and being constantly bombarded by people speaking that language, making demands on you, and getting frustrated when you don't know what they're saying- and apparently being paid a pittance for the privilege?  The poor man wears a look of perpetual frustration. These are not the actions of a company that behaves with integrity, that cares about its employees.  I do not feel bound by a sense of loyalty to the company that hired me.



And then there is my apartment.  I know, and appreciate that having free accommodation is not a perk that I would enjoy at home.  But in the world of ESL teaching and international schools it is part of the compensation package, and in most positions in the Middle East and Asia free-single-accommodation is provided.  I knew coming into this job that it only offered shared accommodation.  I wasn't wild about the idea but I wanted a job and assumed - obviously naively - that the apartment provided would have 2 separated bedrooms and bathrooms and a living area large enough for two strangers to share.  I have a good sized bedroom and being the first in here appropriated the large bathroom that has a real shower and bathtub (which also holds the washing machine room mates would share).  The second bedroom is an adequate size but is very close to mine, and the 2nd bathroom is what most westerners refer to as an 'Arab bathroom' - although parts of Europe have ones similar to it.  It is very small, with a sink, toilet and shower head in it.  That's right-I said shower head-not shower stall.  Whenever you shower the entire bathroom gets wet and has to be mopped out afterward-I would not be a happy camper if that is what I had to utilize for the next 10 months-and it is definitely not up to the standards expected by international staff.  The living space is totally adequate for a single person or a couple but not, in my opinion, for 2 complete strangers.  It is definitely not big enough for two teachers to set up laptops and spread out with all our marking and planning materials.  Adding insult to injury my apartment was in a disgustingly filthy state when I arrived.  Tired, jet-lagged, and adjusting to a new country and climate, I had to spend hours cleaning-this has been the case with most people I have spoken to.  I paid to have my living room carpet and the comforter on my bed dry cleaned and am considering paying a cleaning lady to come in and clean the areas I just haven't had the time or heart to get to.  This really isn't rocket science-if you want to attract-and keep-good, qualified teachers-take care of them!  The more I experience, the more convinced I become that I should look into starting my own recruiting business in a few years!

This sounds like whining(would you like some cheese with that whine?!), and that really isn't my intention.  There are definitely some positive aspects to my job and to life in Kuwait.  In Canada teachers get very little prep time; here we have specialist teachers for art(if they can find an art teacher!), music, p.e., ict, french/esl, arabic and islamic studies-so out of 50 classes per week we only have to teach 27-29 - that would never happen at home!  I really like my colleagues, my department head and principal seem to be people who support their staff, and, as I said earlier, despite everything I like my kids.  And I like this country; I like the warm nights, the salty smell of the ocean that reminds me of home, the palm trees and warm breezes I've been longing for, and the friendly people.  Last night I went for dinner with a large group of colleagues.  When I went to the washroom I encountered 4 young Kuwaiti girls who all said "hello" to me-one even added "good morning"!  They then offered their hands for me to shake and welcomed me to Kuwait-that evoked a smile that spread across my whole face-can you imagine that happening in a restaurant bathroom in Canada?

In conclusion, I have experienced positives and negatives, ups and downs, highs and lows, good days and bad days.  I have wrestled with my conscience, searched my heart, and tried to decide on my best course of action.  I may not have a choice in where I spend the next 9 months; remaining where I am may be my only option.  If that is the case I will make the best of the situation for myself, and do everything I possibly can for my students.  I will survive, as I always have, but I feel the cost-to my mental, emotional, and by extension, physical health-will be high.  So I have decided that if I am offered a position teaching English as a Second Language, particularly at the college/university level, I will accept it(providing they agree to my returning home for Alex's wedding and graduation).  I have two phone interviews set up for tomorrow, one with a university in Saudi Arabia and one with a university in Oman.  If I go somewhere else I know I could be jumping from the frying pan into the fire,  but at least I would have something on my resume that would help to get me a better position next year.  Whatever happens this experience has not been a wasted one.  I have learned valuable lessons-the hard way, perhaps, but that wouldn't be the first time and probably won't be the last time that my enlightenment has come at a price!  I know that I still possess a strong passion to teach, but I have learned that that passion does not mean I can be happy teaching anything to anyone.  I have learned that I cannot be in contact with children and not care - about their education, their well being, their happiness.  I have accepted that despite those feelings of care and concern, I have to make decisions based on what is best for my health and happiness, and-as callous as it may sound-my career. I have processed, and reflected, and searched my heart. I know my strengths, I know my weaknesses, I know what I can and cannot bear, and I think I know what I want. All I need now is the resolve and courage to follow wherever this path I am on leads me.

WHAT THE HELL HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?! (Part One)

I just finished my 3rd week with my students and have yet to blog about the experience; I know some of you have been wondering at my silence.   I was asking myself the question "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" even before I met my class.  The first week of September was 'teacher's week' as we prepared for the students(actually, saying we 'prepared' is stretching it a bit), and had general staff/admin meetings.  At one of these meetings the subject of discipline was discussed for such an extremely long time-my first red flag!- that I wrote on my writing pad to the teacher sitting next to me(a young woman from New Zealand) "Are you getting the impression that this is a problem here?"  Well, the answer to that question is yes-it's a huge problem here. After days spent getting my classroom ready for my students(putting up posters, borders, arranging desks, sorting texts, notebooks, etc) came my very first 'real' day.  I arrived at school about 6:45am as prepared as I could be for my "5 Yellow" class of 16 students.  Every morning we have a staff briefing in the library at 7:10 after which we head straight to the quad for the bell that rings at 7:20.  We line our class up and take part in the flag ceremony(cheers, national anthem, reading from the Quaran in Arabic and English-done by students),then escort our class to our classroom.  After the briefing-and just before I had to meet and pick up my class-I was told we were down a teacher.  Instead of 4 year(grade) 5 classes there were now 3-my class was now "5 Blue"- 29 students, in a different classroom.  My briefcase and personal supplies were in my original classroom-couldn't leave 29 kids alone to go get them.  I had no idea where the teacher who had prepared my new classroom had put anything.  It was a chaotic disaster that only got worse.  In the afternoon a teacher came in to teach the Arabic(or religion-wasn't sure in the confusion!) lesson, while I was conferring with him two boys got into a fight-an all-out, punches flying  fist fight.  My colleague(a man) did absolutely nothing-while I was breaking up the fight a chair was knocked onto my foot, cutting the big toe on my left foot.  I was shocked, pissed off, and bleeding-not a good start to my teaching career in Kuwait.(three weeks later it is still tender, has a black bruise and I don't know if I will lose the nail or not).  I dragged myself home from school that day, the enthusiasm and hope of the morning replaced by despair.  I went online that night and responded to some responses to applications I had received just prior to arriving in Kuwait.  The next morning I spoke to the principal and told him that I didn't want to be a classroom teacher(has never been my first choice during this whole job search procedure), that my preference was in ESL, I knew the school needed an esl teacher(one of the ones hired had not arrived), and that I wanted to be considered for the position.  I also told him I was checking out other options.  He asked me to give him a week and he would see what he could do.  During that week(and continuing for the past two weeks)  I feel like I have been on a rollercoaster ride-and anyone who knows me knows I HATE rollercoasters!  One day I feel like I can't spend another day here, the next day I feel that there is no way I can abandon my students now.  And my students are not bad kids-despite the rough start I had.  They are not really much different from kids anywhere-they are kids-they talk too much, they don't listen, they constantly seek teacher attention, they drive me crazy!  They are, however, not mean-spirited kids-they are likable, and funny, and charming, and worthy of my time and my care, and I like them!  One-to-one, or in small groups I would have a great experience with them.  In a classroom of 26(my present class), in a school environment where the students have grown accustomed to a severe lack of discipline and consequences, in a culture that appears to tolerate behavior I am not accustomed to tolerating, my experience will be extremely frustrating to unbearable.  After a week my principal got back to me; the powers above him decided it was easier to find and esl teacher than another year 5 teacher so their solution was to do what worked best for them-keep me where I am and hire someone else for the esl position.  During that week I had pretty much decided that even if I got an offer to teach esl at a college or university(the work and experience I have been looking for all along) I would stay at this school if they offered me the esl position-because I don't want to abandon my students, and I don't want to abandon my colleauges(who I think are the friendliest, most welcoming bunch I have ever worked with), and I know I would enjoy working with Flo(a wonderful young woman from London), the other esl teacher.  But, I wasn't given that option, and in that refusal, came my resolve to do what is best for me, for my career.  Still, in these last 2 weeks I have grown closer to my students-even though I've had some really bad days-and it will be difficult to leave them if I go.

If the frustration of the students was the only issue it wouldn't be so bad-they are the same issues one finds anywhere-but there is so much more going on here.  The lack of resources is appalling-i have no teacher guides, no answer keys(that means hours of extra work just there), no basic supplies.  I can download resources from the internet onto a flashdrive and take it to school-but then there is no working computer or printer for me to use!  I am barely treading water keeping up with everything that needs doing. Classrooms are so small-some of them in terrible shape, the roof is leaking in one of the stairwells-an extremely dangerous situation.  The children(about300 of them at my age group-grade 3-5)  spend their two 20 minute breaks in a very small quad in the middle of the school.  It is technically outdoors-canvas roof, tile floor-gets quite hot.  There is no play equipment and they are not allowed to run!  They are in school from about 7am until 2:10-and during their breaks they have nothing to play on and are not allowed to run!  I supervise on break each day and spend 20 minutes yelling(only way to be heard)at kids to stop running(which i feel so bad about doing!), grabbing the kids who ignore me and keep running past me, and breaking up fights. At the end of that 2o minutes I am at the end of my rope, ready to cry. On top of that we are being bombarded with administrative demands-"your marking must be done like this", "you need to do long, medium, and short term goals and hand them in", etc., etc.  I(and everyone else) am frustrated to the point of despair-I don't have the tools I need to do my job-and yet I am being held accountable for doing that job!

And then there is the company that owns and runs the school.  We all have id cards and must clock in(at 7am) and out(at 2:45) each day-not what i'm used to, but i can live with it.  What i don't accept is that if we clock in one minute late, or clock out one minute early-we will be deducted a half day's pay!  I get to school between 6:30 and 6:45 every day, I leave between 3 and 5-depending on how much marking I have to do-and yet I face losing half a day's pay if i'm one minute late arriving or one minute early leaving!  That is not an acceptable way to treat a professional as far as I am concerned.

I really want to finish this before posting it but some colleagues are heading out for lunch(our friday is your saturday) and i could really use a break so i am going to join them.  i know if i try to save this i will end up losing it-so i guess i'll finish it when i get home!  adieu, adieu, remember me!

MOTHERS

Sometimes they are the women who give birth to us.  Sometimes they are the women who foster or adopt us.  Sometimes they are women whose paths may only briefly cross ours but who look out for us in a motherly fashion.  Sometimes they are women who see our need and take us under their wing, add us to their flock.

I have been fortunate to have had a mother who was there for me even when I didn't want her to be, even when I didn't appreciate her.  The woman who bore and raised me was a strong, proud woman who loved, nurtured, supported, and sacrificed for, her children.  But I am not even going to attempt to do her justice in this brief message, it will be challenge enough to do that in my book. Almost 18 years after her death I still miss my mother's presence in my life.  There is still an empty space in my heart, a little girl inside me who wants her mom.

 I have, however, been blessed in the last 5 years to encounter 2 amazing women who hold a special place in my heart.

 Minnie(who just turned 80) is a dynamic lady with a lot of chutzpa(my apologies if I spelled that incorrectly!)who started the James Bay Women's Group, which I joined about 6 months after moving to Victoria.  There were many women in that group who I admired and several who had a lasting impact on my life.  Minnie is receiving special attention here because the impact she has left is a mothering one.  She called me "kid"(which made me feel young again), told me she was proud of me(an accolade not frequently received), and even indulged in some "mama-bragging" (relating to people I don't even know what a strong woman and good mother I am!).  I thank you, Minnie, with all my heart, for the interest you took in my life and for the motherly fashion in which you looked out for me.  I miss you, but our connection hasn't ended - you haven't seen the last of me!  I will return to Victoria, and I still want to write that book - yours is one of the stories I want to tell!!

I didn't know anyone in Victoria when I decided to move back there in January, 2006 so I contacted old friends of my parents who live in Comox(about a 2 1/2 drive up island).  I stayed with Vicky and Chuck for 2 weeks while I scouted things out, went back to Edmonton to rent a truck and pack up my things, then stayed with them for another 6 weeks while I organized a job and an apartment in Victoria.  During that time Vicky took me under her wing.  She rescued me from a housing nightmare I had gotten myself into, treated me like family and mothered me in a way I hadn't felt since my own mother died.  I soaked it up like a plant that has gone years without rain.   In the past 5 years this strong, caring woman has become my second mother.  I've celebrated holidays and milestones with her family, received the same care parcels of toilet paper, stamps, food and other welcome staples as her children whenever I have visited her or she has visited me, been nagged and nurtured, even shared some eye-rolling and private, "sibling" jokes at her expense this summer(sorry, Vicky, but it was done from a place of love - and it is part of the package - we did the same to mom and my girls have done it to me!)  What I learned, and accepted with such gratitude, this last visit when I went to stay for a week and ended being there for more than a month(during which time children and grandchildren were arriving to celebrate Chuck's 80th birthday and beds were getting scarce!)is that Vicky(and the less verbose, but equally welcoming and beloved Chuck)didn't just treat me like family; she opened her home and her heart to me and accepted me as part of her family.  One of the things I love about Vicky is how much she liked and respected my mother, whom she always speaks of as being a real lady and to whom she has sometimes compared herself in an unflattering manner.  You and mom are different in many ways, Vicky, but you are alike in one very important one.  You both have mother's hearts - hearts that are open not only to the children you brought into this world, but also to the children of others, even adult children who still need mothering.  My mother was proud to call you her friend in life.  I know that her spirit, which still watches over her children, is grateful to you for taking one of her chicks into your nest, for the love and support you have given her daughter.  I am grateful, too.  Thank you, second mother, I love you!

 This post was meant to be published before I left Canada; I didn't get it done on time, but I guess it is better late than never!

QUICK QUESTION

I'm trying to figure out if my blog is public - does anyone have to sign in to view it?

UNITED NATIONS

I have met people this past week from all over the world; New Zealand (a little burst of enthusiastic energy!), Australia, South Africa (wonderfully friendly ladies), Kenya, France, Romania(a very nice gentleman who helped me carry a heavy load of books up two flights of stairs), England(an interesting, eclectic group), Scotland, Cuba, the U.S.(including a wonderful Minnesotan/Kuwaiti who helped me decorate my classroom today!), even a fellow Canadian(she's from Toronto, Elaine!).  Some of my new acquaintances are "newbies" like me, some have spent a decade or more in the Middle East, some have spent the last 5-10 years teaching and travelling all over the world - I am awed and inspired.  I have encountered so much warmth and enthusiasm since arriving, I know am going to learn so much from this diverse group of people, that a belief I have always held(which was planted by my globe-trotting father)has been reinforced - travel is an education!  I am ready to be educated - and ready to also meet and make friends with people who are native to this fascinating country that will be my home for the next year.  Life is good - hot - but good!

IKEA AND MARKS & SPENCERS

I've travelled half way around the world and the two malls I've been to here could be located anywhere in North America; Rand River, Payless, Claires...even a Mac.  I'm not complaining though, on Friday I headed for the familiar blue and yellow of IKEA and picked up some much needed supplies - a bath mat, a real shower curtain (the one provided was about as thick-and effective-as saran wrap!), a feather pillow, some tea towels and other odds and sods.  Yesterday I joined a quick group on an excursion to another mall and soon found myself in an old British favourite - Marks & Spencers, where I bought 4 good shirts (on sale-although I didn't do the conversion right in my head so they were more than I expected-but are good quality and for work so worth the money), and 2 packages of Red Leceister and Green Onion chips (they made a great sandwich for supper last night, along with a pot of noodles I picked up at the local corner store).  I almost bought a Kentucky Fried Chicken dinner(I know, I know-but I was starving!) but there would have been a 10 minute wait and we had to run to catch our "bus".  There is something so un-exotic, almost obscene, about the barrage of signs advertising places like McDonalds, Burger King and KFC in this Arabian landscape.  But tonight I intend to sample a more local cuisine - an Indian restaurant I can see - and smell - from my living room window.  In fact I think I, and some of my colleagues, will be regulars there. The restaurant also offers Chinese food;  I could live here for the next 10 months and never cook a meal - and not have to walk more than 2 minutes from my flat to pick up my favourite food, at about half what it would cost me in Canada!  I am in HEAVEN!!

 Today was a short day - this whole week is "Teacher's Week" - tomorrow we will continue learning the finer points of teaching in Kuwait.  I have a feeling what my first faux pas will be.  I've been in the Middle East before, I know there's no such place as Israel(only Palestine), but I've always thought of the body of water I can see in the distance as the Persian Gulf-that is a no-no here.  It is the Arabian Gulf-so I have been walking around all day thinking "Arabian Gulf, Arabian Gulf...and for god's sake if you get it wrong don't make it worse by saying 'Christ!'-another no-no!(Jesus is okay-he was a respected prophet, but not Christ).

I've been awake since 3:30, out of bed since 5:00-couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I'd get a start on my day.  Decided to do a trial run on the washing machine before putting any clothes in there-good idea, it doesn't leak(my main concern, along with making sure it was clean before I put my clothes in there) but I put in less than half the detergent recommended on the bottle and could see a huge amount of suds.  I turned it on 45 minutes ago(on what I thought was a 30 minute cold wash) and it has only just switched from the wash cycle to the rinse cycle!  I tried to iron my new blouses but the iron - which turned on and heated up quickly- soon shut off and isn't working at all now, and I think the ironing board was made for a dwarf! I need to wash dishes from last night but my hot water is still running brown! So I don't know how much further along I'll actually be with my early start.  I will have to catch Emad (our resident super) before I head to work, or when I get home if he isn't around this morning.  Taking your problems to him, however, doesn't always get them resolved - he speaks about 4 words of English - yes, no, okay, and tomorrow!  I'm sure I'll find that frustrating as time goes by, right now I just shake my head at a company that hires someone who can't speak English to run a building full of westerners!  The poor guy seems to have a perpetual look of confusion and frustration on his face.

Well, its 6:45; my washing machine has been on for an hour and a half and is still going strong-I have yet to start an actual load of laundry!  I don't have to start work until 9:00(this week only-normal work hours will be 7:00-2:30)the company is sending our bus(which is actually a large van) to pick us up at  8:15 and they even drop us back at the flats at the end of the day-every day.  The school is a five minute walk from here!  Some of us are skipping the bus and walking today-I mean seriously, it's a 5 minute walk or less!-and it isn't that hot in the morning-only about 30C, we walked home around noon yesterday-when it was closer to 40C and survived.  Can't see myself being a regular on the bus-even if my makeup does melt off by the time I walk the short distance between home and school!

I'm off to have a shower and hopefully get at least one load of laundry done before I leave.  I wonder what today holds in store for me?

AIRLINES, AIRPLANES & AIRPORTS

I almost didn't make this post tonight-it's late, I'm tired, and it took me a minute to figure out how to change the language on my website from Arabic to English!  There is beautiful Arabic writing all over my google page-how cool is that!


I spent almost 2 days in transit to get here but it was worth it.  Central Mountain Air from Comox to Vancouver, a 35 minute flight(thank god it was short because the airplane was very small), $213 - 2 checked bags allowed-to a total of 50 pounds! - so add another $50 baggage cost.  The experience: overpriced and under-serviced.

Interlude - Vancouver for about 4 1/2 hours - overdone, overpriced, and not that interesting - although I did spend $20 on a Canadian T-shirt and cap - just in case I miss Canada and want to exhibit my patriotism.

Continental Airlines from Vancouver to Houston, 4 1/2 hours in a plane that reminds of an Air Transat flight I took once(and then vowed to never fly that airline again!) - barely enough space to lift my feet up to take off my shoes.  Service - a small bag of snack crackers and juice and water - if you wanted anything else you had to pay for it.  Thankfully I was very tired and dozed for most of the flight.

 Interlude -  Houston (6:00pm - temperature, 100F) for about 2 1/2 hours - of course all I saw of it was George Bush Airport, but I did drink a beer and eat some fries in Ruby's diner, feasted my eyes on some good-looking men of colour, and drank in the sound of that sexy southern accent!

 Qatar Airways from Houston to Doha - apparently winner last year of the 'Airline of the Year' award - and I can say that it is well deserved.  On my seat I found a pillow, a blanket(a real one-not the crappy kind most airlines use!) and a little bag containing an eye cover, a pair of socks, and a little container with a toothbrush and toothpaste in it!, and more leg space than I've enjoyed on a plane in a long time.  Also included free headphones and television with plenty of options, free food(ongoing and plentiful-including ice-cream!), and free drinks(including alcoholic-I only had 2!)

On the downside, I didn't do the math correctly - didn't realize this was a 15 hour flight!  Crying babies, not an empty seat on the plane, crying babies, poor hygiene of some passengers, crying babies, ignorant broad behind me who kept kicking my seat(she even put her frigging feet up on my arm rest-wasn't impressed when I asked her to move them!), and did I mention crying babies!, restless leg syndrome bothering me,  AND a 3 year old who spent half the trip-including the last hour-having screaming tantrums-I was so freaking ready to toss him out a frigging exit door-and actually, he was an identical twin(his brother was much better behaved)-so he may not have been all that missed by his own family!!  This claustrophobic, exhausted woman was more than ready to get out of that plane!

Interlude - Doha, Qatar(7:00pm, temperature 37C) for about an hour.  I walked around the duty free, thought about buying a bottle of rum-but didn't know if I could take it into Kuwait, so didn't.  Dragged my heavy "carry-ons" up the escalator, saw a food court and couldn't believe my eyes when I spotted an A&W sign" - I actually started salivating at the thought of an ice-cold rootbeer!  I was also dying for a drink of water, but didn't have any Qatari money, so I just went to the gate to wait for my flight.

 Qatar Airways from Doha to Kuwait City - 55 minutes.  A smaller plane but still outstanding service-including-thank the gods-a juice and a water as soon as we were airborne!

 Kuwait International Airport - 9:00pm, temperature 37C!  Customs and baggage pickup were fairly straightforward.  It had occurred to me at some point during my journey that I had neglected to get a phone # I could call in case there was no-one at the airport to meet me-and after the dog and pony show I've been through with this company I was afraid that would actually happen-but within a minute of walking out of customs I spotted a good looking Arab man holding a sign that said "Cambridge English School"!  I could have hugged him with relief-but of course I didn't!  Also there to meet me was the head of the primary section of the school(who will be my supervisor) and her husband.  I was quickly whisked off to Mangaf(where I will be living and working for the next year).  The ride was interesting(to say the least) - no seat belt, high speeds, multiple cell phone use by the driver, blinkers appear to be optional and driver courtesy non-existent!  On my arrival at the apartment building I was met by the Vice-Principal(here only 2 days before me and never been in the Middle East before)and another primary teacher who had a cold glass of water waiting for me!(believe me-water is worth more than gold in this climate!)  She showed me up to my apartment(which she had stocked with some emergency supplies-including water), I was told I didn't have to go to work tomorrow as I had been travelling more than 24 hours, and I started to settle in.

Hearing the Arabic language and music, seeing the palm trees(real ones, Victoria people!), and feeling the warm tropical breeze:  PRICELESS!!

 More on life in Kuwait tomorrow; my laptop clock says 2:14pm, but here it is actually just after midnight-I need to get to bed!

I AM A TEACHER

I am a teacher.
I was born the first moment that a question leaped from the mouth of a child.
I have been many people in many places.
I am Socrates exciting the youth of Athens to discover new ideas through the use of questions.
I am Anne Sullivan tapping out the secrets of the universe into the outstretched hand of Helen Keller.
I am Aesop and Hans Christian Anderson revealing truth through countless stories.
I am Marva Collins fighting for every child's right to an education.
I am Mary McCleod Bethune building a great college for my people, using orange crates for desks...
I am also those whose names and faces have long been forgotten but whose lessons and character will always be remembered in the accomplishments of their students...
I have a past that is rich in memories.  I have a present that is challenging, adventurous and fun because I am allowed to spend my days with the futre.
I am a teacher...and I thank God for it every day.


I came across this piece of writing the night I spoke to the principal of Cambridge English School in Kuwait and learned my job for the next year will be as a grade four classroom teacher.  It was written by John W. Schlatter and included in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book.  It seems fitting that I found it when I did. I haven't been in a classroom for a long time, I'm nervous about working with a large, active group of nine year olds, I sometimes question the sanity of my decision to take off to parts unknown.  Reading this reminded me that no matter what the next year holds for me - or the years after that - there is one thing I know to be true - I am a teacher.

KUWAIT BOUND!

After an agonizing, nail-biting, tension-filled 2 1/2 weeks I finally know where I'm going.  I had accepted a position in Vietnam but heard back from a school I had applied to in Kuwait.  Both positions are in international schools-and what I really want to do is teach English as a Second Language to adults-but the Kuwaiti company that recruited me also recruits for post secondary organizations, so there is a good chance of me getting into a position in adult education next year.

I have wanted to return to the Middle East since my brief sojourn there 6 years ago.  After weighing the pros and cons of both positions it was clear there were more benefits to me going to Kuwait.  Whenever I thought about traveling in Asia I felt excited but when I thought about living there I felt a sense of uneasiness, even panic - I'm not sure why, but I'm going to respect that feeling.  I still have a strong desire to travel in that area, particularly in Southeast Asia, but for now I'm not going to be living there.  I swear my decision was only very slightly swayed by my propensity for Latin/Middle Eastern men!  I think one of the deciding factors for me is the nearness to the continent that draws me more than any other.  Africa - it's been like a magnet to me since I was a child - Kilimanjaro, the Serengeti, the Sahara, the Nile, Timbuktu, Cairo, Marrakesh, the list goes on, the pull is strong.  I can't wait for the day I set foot on that continent, I intend to spend as much time exploring it as I can.

So, before the month is out I will be in the Middle East, a region fascinating in its own right and because of its location - close to Africa, Asia and Europe.  I will be teaching all subjects(British curriculum)to a Grade 4 class.  I am so thankful to have the opportunity to teach again - to follow my passion.  Thank you universe!

FAREWELL VICTORIA!

I have lived in twenty towns/cities/military bases, in five countries, during my fifty two years of life.  I have left many homes behind.  I've known the trepidation of beginning again in a new environment, the frustration of searching, yet again, for new childcare, doctor and hair dresser (essentials wherever one lives!), and the loneliness of being, once again, the new kid in town. 

The result of this nomadic lifestyle is a phenomenon that occurs every four to five years.  My ears tune into conversations about distant places, my eyes notice every moving van in the neighbourhood, my feet start a restless dance and my heart beats faster in anticipation of a major change in my life.  I don't know what it feels like to have roots, to have a hometown, or friends who have known me all my life.

I first moved to Victoria in 1972 when I was not quite fourteen years old; the move was the most difficult one I made with my parents.  I was at that awkward, adolescent age and was moving from a small military base in northern New Brunswick where my peers were accustomed to new kids in their school every fall to a city on the other side of the country, in a province I knew nothing about, where most of my new classmates had known each other since kindergarten.  My first year in Victoria was a lonely one and I spent a lot of time by myself exploring the beaches and coves near my house.  This is when my love of the ocean was born and this is when, as I walked down Head Street on my way home from school every day, I fell in love with the mountains. 

When I left Victoria five years later to live and travel in Britain I was sad to say goodbye to family and friends but didn't feel any particular connection to the city I was leaving.  As the years passed, however, I realized that Victoria was the closest I had ever come to having a hometown.  I found that I could still picture the beautiful sight of the Parliament Buildings lit up at night that I could see from my bedroom window, I could hear the sound of the foghorn, could almost smell the ocean, missed the majestic mountains I had taken for granted.  I had come of age here; gotten my first job, kissed (really kissed!) my first boy, graduated from high school, left home to venture out on my own.  The house on Anson Street, in Esquimalt, was the last home I shared with my parents.  As the years passed and I continued to move from place to place, buried my parents and older sister, married and divorced, and raised my 3 daughters, I often thought of this beautiful city.  After a brief stint teaching English in Oman in the fall of 2005 I found myself back in Edmonton, the city I had moved my daughters and I to in 2001 in the hope of finding work as a teacher.  My short stay in Oman had brought home to me how much I missed the ocean and the mountains so I said to myself "You need to find a job and a place to live anyway, why not go back to Victoria?  You know you've always wanted to."

And so, I came back.  Five years ago I thought coming here was about returning home, and maybe putting down roots.  I hoped to connect with friends from my past, people who knew the me I used to be.  Instead, I made new friends, people who helped point me toward a path I still need to walk.  I'm not ready to put down roots yet - there is still a lot of traveling I want to do, many things I need to experience.

Now I am leaving again. This time it wasn't just hard saying goodbye to family and friends.  This time I found it really difficult to leave this beautiful city.  I didn't want to get onto the highway that would bring me up island where I am staying until I leave Canada.  I drove around for quite awhile saying a silent farewell to my favourite places, soaking up the magnificent view of ocean and snow-capped mountains, smelling the salty air, listening to the cry of the seagulls(who usually just annoy me because they are loud and crap all over my car!), wondering when I will be back in this city I have come to love so much.  I don't ever remember my heart feeling so heavy about leaving a place.  I am excited about the prospect of spending the next 3-5 years following my passions of teaching, traveling and writing but I am really going to miss Victoria.

DEAREST DELILAH

Some people are huggers - some people aren't. Delilah is a hugger - I'm not(except with my girls, or after a long acquaintance).  Delilah quickly stepped through my walls - I learned to let her in.  Some goodbyes are quick and relatively painless - you blink back the tears and bluff your way through.  I've done that a few times over the past fortnight - I knew I wouldn't get off that easily when I said goodbye to Delilah.  We've shared too much over the past five years - joy, pain, grief, laughter, secret hopes and dreams, fears and worries.  The upside of letting someone get so close to you is having a friend who understands and knows you - and loves you anyway.  The downside is watching her walk away, knowing she's hurting, and not knowing how the years will treat her between now and when we next meet.  I freaking hate goodbyes!  I'm going to miss you, friend!  I love you, girl, and I will keep in touch.  I will see you again!

MATES, MOVIES & MARTINIS

I survived another "Until We Meet Again" -  this time with two friends I met through the social group. We've shared good food and wine, interesting conversations, friendship, and a lot of laughter.  My favourite get-togethers involved movies that not only entertained but engaged and challenged us and Diane's famous martinis(tasty but deadly-my limit appears to be two!).  I raise my glass to you Diane and Elaine - here's to movies, martinis, and 2 great mates! 

CIRCLE OF FRIENDS

Another day of goodbyes - and I so hate goodbyes.  This time it was a BBQ to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the second group I reached out to 5 years ago when I was alone and lonely in this beautiful city on the sea.  It seems a lifetime ago since I took those first tentative steps toward the group; a lone wolf seeking the warmth and comfort of a pack.  Social interaction, as the founder of the original group knew, is essential to our mental and emotional well-being.  It is almost instinctual for us to reach out, to seek contact with others. After six months of working 2 jobs I hated and coming home every day to an empty apartment I recognized that not interacting with people was seriously affecting me; I was slipping into depression.  I knew I had to step outside my comfort zone and initiate contact with people. Tonight as I sat in the beautiful yard of one of our members enjoying good food and wine, participating in great conversations and sharing memories of past gatherings I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude, and of sadness.  I am grateful for all the experiences I have enjoyed; walks and dinners, croquet and board games, potlucks and laughter.  I am sad to be leaving this eclectic mix of dynamic people.  I want to thank them for welcoming me into their homes and hearts, for the grace of their friendship, for contributing to my social wellness!  I hate goodbyes, so I'm not saying goodbye; I'm saying "Until we meet again!"

WILD, WISE, WONDERFUL WOMEM

This morning I went to my last meeting of the women's group I've belonged to for almost 5 years, followed by a potluck lunch in the beautiful garden of one of the members.  When I first moved to Victoria I felt very isolated and very in need of human interaction so I - the consummate non-joiner - joined a social group and a group for women over 50.  At the time I was a few months away from my 48th birthday-but I was desperate and the women were unsuspecting-thank the gods!  A few months ago I wrote a poem to tell these amazing women what they mean to me and how much they have helped me these past years.  This poem is my tribute to them.

WILD, WISE, WONDERFUL WOMEN

I'm a joker not a joiner, leader not a lackey, guarded about gals who gather in groups, a woman wary of women.

Encountering back-stabbing belles, blatant in their bitchiness, destructive dames denying dignity; I was repelled, retreated.

Yet I was locked in loneliness, suffering in silence, driven to despair. I had to hear human voices, needed to be known.

To save my sanity I stepped outside my safety zone, came to sit amongst them, stranger sitting in silence, seed in search of sun.

Into the safety of the circle I settled; welcomed, warmed; I laughed, lamented, listened and learned from the wisdom of these women.

Their lives have been diverse, difficult, demanding,despairing, at times disabling, and yet, in the end, they have not been defeated.

Their lives have been joyous, gentle, generous, gregarious, giving and gallant; the giggling girl inside their hearts still lives, still strong.

Wonderful women spending sunny, soaking or shivery Saturdays sharing stories and strengths, shame and sorrow, hardship and hope.

I have been witness to women's strength, have watched weariness overwhelm them, have extended empathy and at times subtly sought support.

Their influence on me has been profound; their words and wisdom educating, enlightening, empowering and inspiring me.

I have listened to these women talk of abuse and abandonment, death and divorce, faltering and failing, trials and triumphs.

I have seen anger and acceptance, caring and compassion, have witnessed resistance and resilience, toughness and tenderness.

I have learned about allowing and accepting, bonding and boundaries, forgiving and forgetting, latching on and letting go.

I have grown, stumbled upon sisterhood, perceived passions, learned to honour my woman's heart, stride surely toward a future once feared.

I am mystified, moved, motivated, made powerful, by these mighty, marvellous, memorable, magnificent matriarchs.

TO THE JAMES BAY WOMEN'S GROUP, WITH LOVE & GRATITUDE

PETS & PANIC

I knew this move was going too smoothly.  The packing was going according to plan and I wasn't feeling overwhelmed by it.   I had found a reasonably priced storage unit run by a woman I trust to store my belongings while I'm gone.  Friends of my youngest daughter were going to take(read carry down two flights of stairs!) the rest of my furniture and bits and pieces off my hands.  I had originally thought my cat would go to my ex's(where my 2nd daughter has been living while going to the University of Winnipeg and where my youngest will live when she starts at the same university next year), but then he got a dog(there was already a cat in residence), so Sasha was only welcome as a last resort-fair enough.  My advertisement for a home for my "sassy but affectionate gray tabby"  was answered by a young woman who seemed sincere-problem solved.  My car had been advertised for sale for three months without any bites(unless you count the 3 scam artists who contacted me via my Auto Trader ad!), but I wasn't letting that get me too stressed out.

In fact I thought my stress level was pretty was good considering everything that's going on in my life right now.  I started to get a little anxious when the woman who had said she was going to take Sasha stopped replying to my emails, but convinced myself it was just because she was busy(having just moved here, new job, etc.).  I got really anxious when I finally realized she had stopped communicating with me because she didn't have the ovaries to tell me she had changed her mind about giving Sasha a home.  We were back to Plan A - the cat would go to Winnipeg.  No big deal - it was only $50 to send her on the plane and I bought a second hand carrier for $15.  Unfortunately we arrived back at Plan A a little late-thanks to the woman with no ovaries.  I dropped my 2nd daughter off at the airport for her flight to Winnipeg on Monday; Sasha could have gone with her for only $50, if I'd known then that Plan B was out the window.  When I phoned the airport yesterday I was told that to fly Sasha to Winnipeg unaccompanied would cost $180!!  I do not undersstand how the airport can justify such a difference in price-and telling me that the cat has to be picked up at the cargo warehouse instead of at the baggage claim-a difference of a two minute walk-doesn't cut it with me.  This is the first time in years of traveling with West Jet that I am completely disgruntled with them.  To make matters worse, I was told that if Sasha's carrier didn't meet the requirements the cargo personnel could refuse to take her.  I was worried the carrier was too small so I shoved her into it(there's no nicer way to describe it-she was not impressed and I didn't want to get scratched!), grabbed a friend for moral support and drove out to the airport.  Yup-it was too small, so after dropping my friend off I made a quick stop at Walmart and bought a bigger one-more $$!

By this point my stress level had risen significantly and panic had a grip on me.  The rest of the day wasn't much better. One of Jordyn's friends and one parent came over to pack up some stuff and load up a couple of pieces of furniture; I was expecting more bodies so did more hauling and walking up and down stairs than anticipated.  I was disappointed to hear there is a lot of furniture they aren't taking-more panic rising-how was I going to get rid of it?  A friend and her husband came by and took my desktop computer and some food off my hands, but I was getting more panicky as I realized just how much stuff is left in here that I have to clear out before I can even begin cleaning this place.  The thought of cleaning this whole apartment was really stressing me out by this point.

After everyone left I took some deep breaths and calmed myself down; everything will come together-eventually.  If I have to I will hire someone to haul away any furniture that isn't taken by my daughter's friends; it's an expense I'm willing to pay. I do not want to haul furniture down two flights of stairs(hauled most of it up and it was NOT fun!) and I do not want to presume on the boundaries of friendship and ask anyone to help me.  I have reached the point where I'm thinking that if I get my security deposit back-bonus!  I'm not going to get stressed or break my back cleaning this place for the sake of a few hundred dollars.

Most important of all I've let go of the stress-and anger-I was feeling about the situation with my cat.  I sent a nasty email to that woman in the heat of the moment-felt the need to vent and tell her the stress she'd caused, but now I feel badly that I've added to the stress of her situation.  This has become an expensive venture but has actually turned out for the best.  I know Sasha is going to a good home, she's going to be with people she knows,people who love her.   There is a chance this is not our last goodbye and that I will see her again.  When I first moved to this beautiful city 5 years ago I was working 2 jobs I hated and coming home everyday to an empty apartment.  When my daughter came to visit and brought Sasha back to me(after an absence of 8 months while I was on the move) my life changed completely; I looked forward to coming home because I knew their was someone there waiting for me.  There was a living, breathing, being who cared whether I walked in that door every day.  There was a sandpaper tongue to lick my face, teeth to playfully bite me and a warm body to snuggle up to me at night.  I wasn't alone.  I'm sorry for all the moves you've gone through the past few years, Sasha, and I'm sorry I'm going to put you back into a cage in 2 days and put you through the ordeal of a flight to Winnipeg.  But I'm so glad I've had you with me these last 4 years-thank you, girl.  I'm going to miss you!  Panic has passed.  Pet is leaving-but will always be loved, and will never be forgotten.

EMPTY NEST

Wait - don't go- I'm not ready!
I didn't - say all the words I meant to say, teach all the lessons I meant to teach...
I haven't - taught you how to cook all your favourite recipes...
I forgot - to show you how to iron and how to hem your jeans...
You aren't - even eighteen years old yet!
You can't - begin to imagine all the things that might go horribly wrong - but I can.
You shouldn't - ever be afraid to try, to fail, or to come home.
Please don't - ever be cavalier about your safety - don't trust that handsome stranger, walk down that dark
                      alley alone, leave your drink unattended...
But wait - just one more kiss!
Wait - just one more hug!
Wait - just one more glimpse of your beautiful face before you turn and walk away!
Wait,
Wait,
Oh no - it happened too fast - again!
It's too late - you're gone!
My baby birds have all flown the nest.
Fly, my beautiful ones -  soar to majestic heights.
You may not see the net below you - but it is there.  I will always be here to catch you if you fall!
I love you all - around the world and back again, to infinity and beyond!

Boxes & Blogs

Life after children may not be all that it's cracked up to be.  They certainly would have come in handy to help me set up this binary log!  But they've all flown the coop so I'm blundering my way through.

After a day of packing and downsizing(finally threw out the pair of size 8 jeans I've accepted I'll never fit into again) I'm sitting here with a drink on the table beside me and a computer on my lap.  I could never have pictured this scene when I started raising my children 26 years ago.  Actually, I could have pictured the drink-I often told my children they were driving me to it!- but not this casual use of a technology that has confused and frustrated me for over 20 years.

So, this is where I am; closing a chapter of my life, 26 1/2 years of raising children.  They have been the most intense, most difficult, most rewarding, most joyful years of my life.  I wouldn't change them for all the tea in China, or all the diamonds in Africa.  I will be a parent until my death and beyond, but I am finished raising children-yipee!

I'm starting a journey.  I'm going to find myself, follow my heart, live my passions.  It's time to start doing all the things I've been telling my girls to do for years.  It's time to put my money where my mouth is!  I'm scared, but I'm really excited too!