Author Archives: bettinabennett2014
Okay, so on Friday I came really close to exploding. I almost threw a temper tantrum in the middle of traffic on my little street. Instead I counted to 10 while realising “Eeets not Posseeble” is the Belgium English version of Inshallah, although there’s no hopefully or maybe attached to it.
Flashback to Thursday: I go to Ikea asking if I could add a bed and mattress to my delivery expected to arrive the next day. I paid 100 euros for a truck with a lift, so that all my shit could go up through my windows versus the elevator. The receptionist at work called the police to reserve a front spot for me, so I was nice and ready to move much-needed stuff into my place. Anyway, I figured adding a bed to that order would just make my life easier since I need bed. After some phone calls and whatnot “whalla” it’s done. My bed was scheduled to arrive with another delivery; they couldn’t get it on the same truck, but a note was written to lift driver to wait.
Oh and then I ask if the bed will be assembled with the rest of my furniture. Pause, “Madame, there is no assembly in your order.” What? I asked when I bought it if assembly was included, or did I need to pay extra (which I would have!), and I was told it’s all included. I even repeated this to make sure it was. Yes, Madame.
Well, the reality was No Madame it is not. Okay, whatever I will figure this out, just bring my shit: which, by the way, is three chairs, a sleep sofa, a day bed, four armoires, a high table for my kitchen, and three dressers, oh and now that queen sized bed and mattress.
Thursday night I get home and see two spots out front reserved. One under my window and one near the garage entrance. I assume the one under window is mine.
8 a.m Friday, big ass truck and small ass lift truck are there. Parking spot under my window has an SUV in it, so guess what? that one’s not MY spot. Lift guy says he can’t reach my window from the other spot. I point out ways he can manoeuvre his vehicle to do it: “Eeets not posseeble.”
Furniture truck guys say it’s better for me if they unload my furniture, and I call another lift when a spot opens up. “But, I paid 100 euros for this one!” Oh, and we’re still waiting for the bed and mattress too. I show lift guy the note that says he needs to wait. He looks at me like I’m bat shit crazy if I think he’s actually going to abide by it. So, we agree that the furniture guys will unload my boxes, and we’ll pull into lobby, and hopefully a spot closer to my window will open up.
The furniture guys feel sorry for me and manage to lug boxes up the stairs and put some stuff in the tiny elevator, which we’re not supposed to do, but at this point I’m desperate, so I’m literally praying it’ll all work out.
It’s going great until an elderly couple cuss us out because of all the boxes and because they caught the guys putting some stuff in the elevator. They are not happy at all, and we keep trying to explain what had happened, and they yell at me in French that I should’ve called police to reserve a spot. I point to the one I did that with, and blah, blah, blah. I just know at this point I’m getting a call from my landlord (whew! so far that’s a no). Anyway, they leave all pissed off (yay me on making new friends). Another little old lady comes down, and bless her soul offers to move her vehicle in the front. This is when I learn the lift guy left!!!!!!!!! It’s okay, I’m told, that spot wouldn’t be close enough anyway. I’m still like, but I paid 100 euros for that guy. All I want is my shit upstairs without pissing off my neighbours!
Here’s just some of it. The wine table is perfect for my kitchen. Love, Love, Love it! And, the black sleep sofa is my bed right now and is quite comfy. Thanks, Doug! Leslie and I laboured away on a big closet, which has one more thing that needs to be done, and she also got a tricky little drawer thingy together for me. There are lovely chairs to sit on as well, so it’s coming along.
Anyway, long story longer the furniture guys did manage to get everything upstairs, and I do appreciate them working so hard to help me. I think they felt sorry for me when they saw I was lugging up smaller boxes myself, and the bed and mattress never showed up! Until 8 a.m. Saturday, when I get a call saying the bed is on its way. Oh hell no it’s not! At this point I’m so frustrated I cancel the bed and demand a refund. I’m told I’ll get it. I’m sure that’s a process too, but I’ll deal with it this week. There was just no way that early on a Saturday morning I was going to risk pissing off the neighbours again trying to lug stuff up those stairs and that elevator.
Now, on to the good stuff! There are always heroes in a bad tale.
Thursday night I message Leslie and Doug, a couple I’ve become friends with. They’re new here too and Doug hasn’t started his new job yet. I offer to pay Doug to help me assemble furniture. Friday morning I send out an SOS if he could come sooner (this was when I realised I might just explode but thankfully didn’t).
Doug gets here to help out while Leslie finishes work and arrives later. Both of them stayed here until almost midnight helping me put furniture together. Of course we sipped wine and nibbled on cheese, but we were so busy working that we never even left for dinner. I cannot believe they gave up their Friday evening AND dinner to help me. In return all they ask is for me to pay it forward. Don’t worry, we’re all headed to Paris for a day trip next weekend, so I’ll be sure to treat us to some good wine and food.
We didn’t get everything assembled, but that’s okay because they brought me back to reality and made me realise it’s okay, Efff that lift guy driver because anything EEES Posseeble, and when there’s chaos, there’s also always someone to the rescue.
Another treat was there’s a leak under my kitchen sink. The plumber came on Friday too, since I was home, and I almost cried tears of joy when he told me the landlord said I spoke some German, did I understand him now (after my now common “I have no clue what you’re saying” look to French). I was soo happy to be able to clearly communicate! The poor guy, I just rambled off about how his day was and how grateful I was for him, and blah, blah, blah. He’s coming back on Monday to replace my kitchen hot water heater, and I think he’s bringing a buddy to divert some of my rambling. And, I really appreciate my landlord sending a German-speaking plumber since she didn’t have an English-speaking one. It’s the little things that matter oh so much!
Another good thing I got to do was chaperone the Homecoming Dance. It was so nice to see teenagers from around the world decked out and having fun. I got to see some adorable moments when parents hovered in the lobby to take pictures of their kids, or when boys waited, corsage boxes in hand, for their dates to arrive and then nervously slip them onto the girls wrists. I know there’s a lot of effed-up mess in our world, and much of it is government (from all countries) botch ups, but I’m going to put all that aside and point out one of the things done right: and that is the effort that is put into making these kids lives as normal as possible. They didn’t choose to live on this base, but they’re still having sports and school-sponsored parties — and by the looks and sounds of them on the dance floor, they’re having fun. I am very blessed to be a part of that effort. Despite all the nonsense of moving in, I am right where I want to be. Come on Joe and Badger, I can’t wait to have you be part of all of this with me!
And on that note, it’s time for me to brush my teeth, get dressed and go to a bizarre on the base. I hear there’s a furniture store selling stuff — maybe the bed that is really meant for me is there waiting. I’ll just have it delivered the same day as my stuff from America (which is arriving Oct 30th — woo hoo!).
p.s. same day later on: No bed; but I discovered that you can fit a 55 inch t.v. into the back of a Twingo — click here if you’ve never seen one —if you drive with your face squished against the windshield (okay I’m exaggerating but not by much). Joe will be so happy. For the first time in my life I bought a t.v. that big — ewwww and it’s curved too.
Image taken from http://www.laprovince.be/425439/article/regions/mons/actualite/2012-05-30/mons-fin-des-travaux-a-la-rue-de-nimy-ce-mercredi
Oh this moving thing is always a bumpy ride. Add moving to a second floor apartment on a street like above, and you run into some extra issues. You see the stairwell and elevator are too small to lug up furniture, so delivery trucks need to use an “outdoor lift” to haul it in through my front windows. But, in order to do that, a large spot in front of building needs to be off limits to others for parking, which I thought my landlord was reserving for me. I was mistaken. I need to learn French STAT! The department you call to do this needs 5 days advance notice. Luckily, I discovered this on Friday, unfortunately an Ikea delivery was scheduled for Monday. Lol back to sort of luckily, I called Ikea to reschedule and they were just about to call me to let me know that they couldn’t come Monday anyway, so now that delivery is scheduled two weeks away! Um, I will be without a bed longer than I like now.
Image taken from http://www.glugo.pl/jak-zabezpieczyc-transport-mebli/
I’m still taking Monday off because I have two other deliveries being made on Monday that don’t require the lift thingie but do require me being home. Guess whose buying herself an air mattress this weekend?
That said I’m still excited to be moving into my place TODAY. Woo hoo! And, despite the setbacks, I’ve been getting a lot accomplished these past two weeks: got my Belgian ID in the works so that I could set up my local bank accounts, so that I could pay my deposit and first month’s rent. I set up an Internet and mobile plan, rented a car and I’m in the process of checking out cars to buy, while my driver’s license class/test is on Tuesday.
I don’t know when my furniture shipment from America will arrive, but the Ikea shipment includes a sleep sofa for the guest room and some other things that will tie me over until the rest of my furniture arrives (if I’m lucky maybe at the same time?). Basically, my place will be bare bones for a bit, but it’s all good I’m getting that much closer to leading a ‘normal’ life. FYI I could borrow a bed for free from the base’s loaner program, but I’ve decided it’s just easier to do it the air mattress way because I don’t want to have to worry about being home for the bed’s return pickup within its 90 days return policy. I did, however, take advantage of being able to borrow a washer and dryer for the life of my lease —- how cool is that?!
But, enough on my move (I’ll post pics next post), on the work front there’s plenty good to share. I work a block schedule, so I don’t have the same kids every day, that said some of my students are in all three of my classes, some are in two, a few are just in my seminar (study hall/tutoring) class. Each class I teach a day is different because I have history, English and ESL, so it’s never the same lesson period to period. I see my ESL kids every day, and while it’s a small class I have two different sessions going on because two of my kids are in the early phase of learning English, while the others are a year or two ahead of them. Long story short: I’m busy, busy, busy, but never stale or bored, and I’m really enjoying what I teach. I wish I could tell you more about the kids because their personalities and cultural nuances keep it fun and interesting, but I don’t want them to ever feel like I’m blabbering their stories all over the internet — just know that I’m glad to once again get the privilege to work with cool kids. My school is one of a variety of countries’ schools on campus, and last week the entire campus celebrated 50 years of the International School being open. All the schools took part in a parade and group panoramic while kids waved flags from all the different countries. It was so cute seeing the elementary kids from the U.K. school in their little uniforms proudly waving their flags. Some of our Polish students became Captain Poland by wrapping their flags around them. For me it was pretty darn awesome to see children from all these nationalities together just having fun and being kids — if only it could always be this easy.
On Thursday the entire campus celebrated International Teacher’s Day. The kids were given a day off, so that we could use the morning to catch up on some mandatory trainings and then eat lunch with all of the other teachers. I got to meet some German English teachers who’ve been here the same amount of time as me, and who also live just a few blocks from me. New friends in the making? I hope so.
I’m sometimes frustrated with all that still needs to be done and the things that pop up that I didn’t know I needed to know, but I no longer feel overwhelmed. I know that by the time this semester ends I will be settled and ready to begin the next one, hopefully, rested and organised. Oh, and on that note I bought my ticket home for Christmas, so woo hoo the countdown to see my family again is back on.
And, if I want to meet my landlord at 10 a.m. to pick up my keys, I better finish packing up this hotel room and begin the big move. Can’t wait to show you my new home pics — hahaha bare bones and all.
My hotel patio
It’s Sunday morning, and I’m sipping my coffee while listening to the maids clean the rooms near me. I’ll be getting the knock soon, which is annoying because I’ll have to answer the door with my bed head and sloppy sweats and repeat what I say every weekend, “non. I’m okay. Merci!”
This time in two weeks, I’ll be in my apartment, scrubbing away, getting it ready for my furniture delivery. My little hotel studio is the perfect place for me to temporarily live. It has a little patio and friends two doors down, but hotel life is hotel life even when you have your own lil yard, fridge, stove top and microwave. Besides, I’ve heard enough of my revolving neighbours’ noises — from snores, to off key singing, to their kids banging on my back sliding glass door, to their phone alarms. Thank God I haven’t had overzealous couples or loud bathroom goers! There’s also the crappy Internet, but it will all soon be another memory to add to the pile. Hopefully, the Internet at my place will not ping out so much, and I’m told since the bedrooms face the backyard my mornings and nights will be quiet.
That archway leads to a shortcut to my apartment.
Anyway, I’m soooooooo looking forward to moving into my new home. That said when I move, I will miss coming home from work to a freshly made bed, fresh towels and a shiny bathroom, with a tub that says, “Come on in Darling. I’ve been waiting for you.” My apartment tub will be there for me, but my fat ass will have to clean it because I love my bubbles, and they love leaving a ring.
Some shots of my currently empty apartment. That room in the middle is the entryway. The living/dining room is also huge. I’ll show more when I move in. And, I have two square toilets!
I finally feel like I’m somewhat settling into everything. Oh, I still have a boatload to do, and I tense up when I think about it, but I’m more than halfway up the hill. I’ve got this. I used this weekend to relax, grade and plan a lesson (the plan was to plan more, but oh well I got one two-day unit covered). I’ll finally rent a car and start driving next week, which will help me feel more like a resident than working tourist.
I’m getting to know Mons a little better as well. The Grand Place (pronounced more like Plahss) is a cobblestone mecca of festivals, food and alcoholic goodness. There’s almost always something going on. Weddings with their honking horns (which I enjoy — makes you wanna get in on the fun) on Saturdays, parades, festivals and tourist events throughout the weekends. A few weeks ago, I literally watched World War 2 jeeps and tanks parade about, while a band played favourites from that era. This weekend it’s street performers, outdoor concerts and fireworks celebrating Wallonia, the French-speaking region of Belgium (which is where I am).
The city is as Shannan puts it is a big wheel with The Plas (ewww what we locals call it) as it’s centre (although not quite the center), and streets and alleyways as spokes going out to the inner and outer rings, main roads that circle around the city. The train station is on the outer ring.
The spoke my apartment is on runs parallel to The Plas, so I guess it’s more like a spider’s web (but I like the wheel analogy; it helps me when I get lost), and it’s a 5 minute stroll to all the good stuff. My landlord said I’ll be in the perfect location for the Doudou, (sounds like do do) now, now it’s not a dog-park cleaning nightmare. It’s a major event that dates back to the Middle Ages, and it involves pulling the hair off of a dragon’s tail. So, Daenyrs ain’t the only blonde getting to touch a dragon. This Mother of Heathens is gonna get her chance. I’m fascinated by its story and look forward to visiting the Doudou museum, which just happens to be on my street.
There are so many alleyways and off streets to explore as well. I love walking to get lost and then finding my way back to the way that leads to the hotel. I now know enough food words in French to somewhat figure out menus. I know that Filet Americain is a raw hamburger (the Belgium version of steak tartare) and that poisson won’t kill me since it’s fish. Entre’ is an appetiser and chaud is hot. The salads are almost always big and not low cal, and frites pretty much go with everything. I usually order jambon (ham), fromage (cheese) scampis, boeuf or poulette. I bet you can figure the last three out no problem. LOL so eating is not a problem! Nor is drinking — order the house wine; it’s usually good. I even like the beer, so all is well in my quest to destroy my liver.
The job is still great, and I’m adjusting to wearing close-toed shoes. It’s been in the 60s, which was a bit of a shocker for me since I’m not used to temps dropping that low until February. I’m not complaining though — love experiencing Fall again!
And, last, but not least, some random shots of Mons (although the doggy sign pic was taken at another village; I’m sure Mons has one too). My phone isn’t the greatest, so I promise to bring my camera the next time I walk to take some better pics.
A view of the backyard for my new apartment complex. Flowers, stone walls and green … lots and lots of green!
Hello from Belgium! I’ve been busy, busy, busy. I would’ve posted something sooner, but, well, I’ve been busy. The few times where I had a moment to write, I was torn about sharing my good stuff while shit was happening elsewhere. August has been a whirlwind of “wtf.” But, in between the “is this really happening again?” and the chaos of devastation, there’ve been moments of people putting themselves at risk to help strangers. As always there’s this mix of good and bad — I want to type balance, but let’s face it shit aint balanced right now.
I am so incredibly fortunate to be living my life, and nothing terrible has happened to me, but the wrongdoings in the world are very visible, especially in Brussels. I now go to outdoor concerts with military men and their weapons walking around for protection (and I am grateful for it). I’ve been asked to leave a park while security did a sweep. It’s surreal to get off your train to see fatigues and big-ass guns casually strolling by. That said life is certainly not taking a back seat. Parades, festivals, restaurants and pubs are still belting out their fun, and the necessary added watch manages to blend in. It is what it is. In the villages and smaller cities you don’t see this, but the police are there doing their thing, and I imagine everyone is more vigilant than any of us were what feels like a long time ago.
I wish I could say I’ve been going to a lot of the fun stuff, but right now I’ve only managed to fit in a few outings — thanks to a visit from Shannan and Ian and the new friends I’m meeting here.
Half the time I feel like I’m running a marathon backwards because there’s so much to do for the new job, the new bits and pieces of immigration, etc., etc. The other half I’m in awe by where I am. I cannot wait until Joe and Badger join me and we explore together (plus by February things should be way calmer for me). There is so much to see and do — and eat and sip!
Until then I’m settling into my new job, country and all that goes with it. It’s overwhelming, it’s stressful, and it’s full of lovely surprises. Again, people who were complete strangers to me a month ago have stepped in to save the day more times than I can count. I feel like I’m making another batch of life-long friends.
When I want to quit, throw a temper tantrum and scream “I can’t do this!” Someone pops in to help me figure whatever out. It’s going to be a very good life here.
I love my school — yeah, yeah I know I always love my school when it first starts, but this one is different. I love the international aspect. Students and staff have lived around the world and the mix of accents and languages in the hallway is music to me. As a newbie I’m intimidated, but everyone assures me I’ve got this. So, I trick myself into believing I do, and whalla! my classes have been going well. And then the day ends, and I realise “oh shit, I’ve got a lot to get ready for tomorrow.” InshAllah (will eventually learn its French equivalent) it’ll all be worked out by second semester, and I’ll be ahead of the game a bit.
A pic of my room before school started. I have my own classroom again! WITH lots of shelves and storage and moving whiteboards and my own teacher laptop and printer and books and woo hoo! My teacherly self feels whole again.
I’ve been lucky that I’m staying at the same hotel as another couple (who remind me a little of Joe and me — I’m thinking we have lots of fun times ahead of us), and I’ve been riding to work with them, so I haven’t had to worry about getting a car yet. We’re in our hotel studio apartments until Oct 1 when they move into their new apartment, and I move into mine. Sometime before then I’ll get my local drivers licence and buy a used car and deal with another country’s version of DMV (another thing on my life to-do list that I didn’t know I needed to do).
I’m excited about my new place. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted it because it doesn’t have the exposed beams or brick walls I’ve seen in adverts for other places, it doesn’t have a private backyard, and, well, it’s not what I was envisioning at first. BUT, it’s actually a pretty darn awesome place. First off it’s huge with three bedrooms and an office room (which I plan on turning into a closet), it has two balconies that overlook a lovely garden, it has a storage cellar and a garage, it has marble floors and huge windows, and there’s an elevator that can bring us up to it — whew! for those days when I just don’t want to lug groceries up the stairs like I did in Al Ain. And, it’s smack dab in the middle of Mons. I can roll down the hill into the Grand Plaz, which is this place:
Internet pics again. I haven’t had time to take good pics.
This is the street in front of my apartment (those second story windows that jut out I think are mine):
So, yeah, I’m excited about it. And just to show off my balcony view again, here’s another pic of all that green
I’m meeting with the landlord next week to inspect the apartment before we do the lease signing, so I’ll take more interior pics and post when I get a chance. There is also a park for Badger right down the road. Badger is also going to like hanging out at the cafe bars with us. I’m telling you we’re buying that dog a beret and wellies for his paws. Pics will ensue.
Meanwhile back in Arizona, Joe is training Badger to get used to his kennel for his long flight, and finishing up last-minute stuff on the house, so it can finally go on the market. It’s been a long time coming, and we’ll both be happier when it and the last of our debt is gone. At the same time it’s sad saying goodbye to the house I raised my children in, but I’ll just drown it out on the balcony.
Of course there’s tons more to share, but I’m hungry and a coffee cafe is wooing me, so time to get dressed, explore my new town a bit, eat and then come back to do lesson planning. I’m going to get ahead one way or the other!
Au Revoir! I promise to post more pics soon.
New teachers are arriving in the UAE (and everywhere else). It feels weird knowing I’m not flying back there this year, nor am I taking part in any of the back-to-school crazy (including those fun Welcome Back! parties and the NOT fun ‘PD’ sessions). Since some new folk occasionally check out my blog for bits about living there, it’s time for me to share some of the less pleasant parts. First let me point out that while there were many WTF moments, I would never disrespect my students, colleagues or former employer by speaking ill of them. I may not have understood or agreed with everything, but I will forever be grateful for the experience and the chance to grow with people I will never forget. So, if you’re looking for a bash UAE post, this one will only disappoint. It will, however, share my list of struggles. Remember everything’s relative, and this is all coming from my personal lens.
I’m glad I’ll no longer be constantly walking that fine line of culturally appropriate and haram. I cannot stress how incredibly accommodating the country is of our sinful ways. There are so many alcohol-related events that a booze-swilling, pork-pie inhaling, leg-showing wench like myself never got bored — just as long as I remembered where I could do those things and respected the many places where I could not. And, I did.
The drinking and dress code part was easy, although now that I’m home can I just say my cellulite loves flashing her stuff in broad daylight. What wasn’t easy was making sure I didn’t offend by posting the wrong things publicly or accidentally slipping up at work by sharing maybe a bit too much of what I did during my weekend.
In teaching too it was tough because I never wanted to inadvertently bring up something that would go against their cultural norms, so I played it safe, which, in the long run, made many of my lessons dry. Don’t get me wrong the girls and I had stimulating and fun moments together, but I feel like I could’ve done better if I wasn’t always in fear of revealing my true haramamama self.
That rule applies to you not me…
While I think this is getting better, consistency is not yet quite a strength. What’s on paper does not apply to all.
About that consistency thing:
Don’t expect it. Sometimes you have to call five times to speak to five different people to get five different answers to get close to what you need to do, and then you begin the process again. Every now and then stuff gets done with one visit or phone call, and you’re so shocked you do a little dance. In my case, work would sometimes change policy or curriculum and not tell us until last minute — sometimes you weren’t officially told at all and had to figure things out on your own.
I guess where there’s rapid change and growth there’s lots and lots of confusion, and, most surprisingly of all, things do manage to eventually get done. There’s also people forgetting to communicate with other parties, like my EOS payment. It took several tries for me to get an answer on what was going on with it, which was an incorrect answer because my file was passed on to another pile, etc. etc. That said I did get my money, and I was very happy with the amount, and it transferred easily to my American account. So it all worked out, but I had some tense, stressful moments thanks to miscommunication and lack of consistency — and that could so easily be avoided. But, it’s all a work in progress.
Me, me, me!
There are people — expats included — who seem to think their time, needs, whatever are more important than everyone else’s. They cut in front of you in line, they swerve into your lane and beep at you like it’s YOUR fault, or stop in the middle of a busy road to chat with a friend, they shift things around to accommodate their needs regardless of how it might affect others, they barge into an examination room while a doctor is working with you to demand they be seen now. For a polite soul like me this was probably the most jarring thing. I experience this back home and in other countries too, but it felt worse while living as a foreigner in a land far, far away.
There are also some of the most wonderful, kind, gracious and giving people you will ever meet. While the ME folk drove me crazy and caused me to mutter haram things under my breath, the good people were always there to give me exactly what I needed when I was at a low. Strangers and friends from all over the world have pulled me through and reminded me of how much more powerful being kind is. And to be totally fair, there were days when I was that ME person — sometimes it just flipping happens.
Phoenix is hot. The UAE makes it feel like a temperate climate. I am done with living the desert life — too much sand, too much hot, Miss. That said it’s pretty darn awesome swimming in the Arabian Gulf in October.
Knowing what I know now, would I do it again?
Most definitely! I have no desire to move back and work there again because I’m ready to move on to other things, but if I could go back three years and warn me about the stuff I didn’t like I’d totally do this thing again. There is so much more that I will miss. To any of my students who might be reading this, OMG you were a joy (even though lol there were just as many times when you weren’t — girls are loud around the world!). I will treasure remembering those smiles and moments of really, really trying to work out whatever I was teaching. My students would always tell me I was beautiful or that they loved me or whatever kind things they would shower me with, if only they knew that I was giving back what they gave to me. Hopefully, they know how beautiful and smart THEY are.
That said to newcomers: not all experiences are as good as mine were. Read the nightmare stories and prepare yourself for the worst. At first: you will not know how to manage a class (it’s just really different from what you think you know) or figure out what’s expected of you. You will not have the right resources. You might not even have your own classroom. It’s demanding, overwhelming and terrifying at first, but if you let go of what you think of as right and go with the flow you will learn how to do this — inshAllah! I had many “why am I here?” moments, but I can honestly say I’ve left a much better teacher. I’ve learned how to adapt, accommodate, scaffold, modify, etc., etc. like nobody’s business. I was good at this before, but trust me if these teacherly skills were Olympic events I’m pretty sure I could place a medal now. And, I have the people of the UAE to thank for that by letting me into their world and sharing their portion of it. Of course I also have my coworkers and friends to thank for all of their tips, suggestions, and sanity (hahaha or not, sometimes our crazy got us through).
So best of luck to all my teacher friends because this time of year is always stressful and full of “can I do it” anxiety — even at schools we’ve tenured at. A big hug to my UAE buds, and a big ole nice-to-meet you to the new colleagues I will learn from at my new location.
Masalama UAE. I sip this morning’s tea in your honour, and to my Emirate co workers several cheek kisses and a hand shake are attached to this post.
Grabbed these from google images and didn’t write down the links. I know shame on m, but here’s a glimpse of Mons.
I’ve been busy hacking up a lung and packing up the house and catching up with my man and dog. No sooner did I land in the U.S. and I got a sore throat and then a full-blown cold (which I haven’t had in forever). I have Joe and Kyle to thank for that one, but it’s all good I’m home.
I got my EOS payment last Thursday and my travel orders this past Monday. Yesterday I got my flight itinerary and today we solidified my shipping dates. Sooooooo, it’s official: I move to Belgium on August 6. My furniture and household goods begin their journey on August 15. Joe and Badger join me in February.
It’s all coming together. Pretty soon you’ll be getting bombarded with Belgium posts and all the new I get to experience. I’m exhausted from all that we’re doing to get to that point, but I’m also very excited.
And on that note, I’ve got errands to run. Woo Hoo this new job thing is happening!
I’m writing this on my flight back to the states. I land in a few hours (okay I’ll be landed by the time this posts) to play on my country’s soil until I don’t know when, and then I’m off again to begin another new life in a country that borders my Mom’s birthplace, and also a good chunk of my childhood.
I wish I had tons of pics to post from my family’s visit to Germany and Amsterdam. My Nikon is at Michelle’s in Virginia and my Sony quit on me (that bitch is tired of wowing us with what she sees). As always it was a great time. OMG it felt so good to laugh with my children (sadly minus Aaron, but time with him is right around the corner!) and to watch them dance with my cousins, with each other, with Joe and Me, and in the case of one dance, my mother. We laughed, we drank, we ate, we walked the soles off of our feet.
And, we ticked each other off. It’s family: eventually misunderstanding and tension will join too. One person wants to do this, another that, and somehow during the debate old wounds resurface and boom there’s that stress only your blood can brew, but oh how I miss that too. Just wait until you find yourself lugging bulky suitcases in a packed train with reserved seats (when you went the open seat route), forcing everyone to accidentally maim a few locals while attempting to throw bags overhead, misjudging our strength. Even better get on a Tokyo-style packed metro during rush hour with said luggage only to realise we didn’t need to get on THAT train. It’s all good: Joe dislodged the stroller from his ass, Kyle got that weird man’s knee out of his thigh, Kaylene’s and my colouring returned after gripping the pole too tightly, and Kelly survived by staring at the wall in front of him secretly questioning his sanity for coming. We got to laugh about it later over an amazing dinner, so love and our sense of humour still conquers all.
In Amsterdam we did non-family things like tour the Heinekin brewery, the adult museum (lol the kids took some great pics, but I’ll keep those for the family album), the red light district and a wine and beer canal cruise —- God Bless us and our unsavoury ways! We also took in the beauty of the place strolling through alleyways, canal walkways, and parks. Joe and I kept pinching ourselves because we’ll be living just a few hours away. Sadly, during this trip we did not get to visit the museums or rent bicycles (rain and bad timing messed us up this time, but oh you crazy bikers out there, watch out. We’re going to eventually join the mayhem).
Kaylene and Kelly left two days before us to visit Copenhagen, so Kyle, Joe and I sampled local goodies, went to the zoo and parted ways with me spending a night in Iceland (where I got to see sunlight at midnight) and them heading to Chicago. I’ll spend two days in Virginia to whoop it up with friends and get my stuff clogging up Michelle’s guest room, and then finally Friday night I will be home with my man and my dog in Phoenix. HumdAllah, Wunderbra and Schmetterling! (lol our family cheer). Let’s add a Cheers and Prost to that chant as well!
The only real turbulence is I’m still in limbo with my End of Service bonus from my former employer and my travel orders and firm offer from my new employer. Social media is a wonderful tool for helping to gather information, but it’s also a curse when it feels like everyone around you is getting their stuff before you. Hopefully, by the time I land both my money and my travel orders will be waiting for me. If you’re reading this blog trying to learn more about teaching/living in the UAE I promise I’ll post a what I miss and what I don’t entry sometime soon (which might be a month or two away in the making). First I must get my back in the USA legs working and more family/Badger time (that poor dog has no idea how much we’re gonna shake up his routine with the Belgium move).
The fam! Pic taken from my cousin Michelle, the beautiful bride. Gotta love my gene pool!
I’m down to my final nights. I’ve essentially been homeless since the first week of June, but let’s be real I haven’t really been homeless. I’ve had my own bedroom and bathroom at Shannan’s, and then I spent a little over a week at Michelle’s in Virginia, and now I’m in my hotel room at the Danat in Al Ain. Plus, I still own my house in Arizona (although that’s finally going on market before the end of this month!). So, the correct thing to say is I’m living out of my suitcases.
While checking in I ran into a family I moved here with — shout out to the Dafoes! We were in the same hotel when we first moved here, and looks like we’re in the same on our way out. Now, that I’m at the end of my journey here it feels like it just started while at the same time feeling like a lifetime ago. Spending my final days at the Danat will be fun though. I have friends here (and friends who will visit), a pool, several bars, a balcony and a comfy bed — minus all that stress of jet lag while being a new hire. OMG it’s such a relief to be finished with all of the paperwork. All I’m waiting on here is my EOS. Time to breathe before I begin the new hire stress in Belgium.
I’ll be suitcase surfing for a while now.
Thursday I’m off to Germany for a week (woo hoo! can’t wait to see my family.), then Amsterdam, then a stopover night in Iceland, then Virginia, then Phoenix for two or three weeks (depending on my travel orders) and then it’s back to hotel living for however long it’ll take for me to find my next home. When I finally get a lazy weekend in my new home it’ll be epic — perhaps a blog post about how happy I am to be home alone in my own bed, wherever the hell that home is. Mons? suburb of Brussels? somewhere in between? or to the right or left of the base? who knows? All I know is it’ll be near all this green…
Image taken from http://transcultures.be/en/2013/05/02/open-call-park-in-progress-mons-belgium-in-the-international-city-sonic-sound-art-festival/
Cooler temps, bicycle paths, canals and lakes, old pubs …. woo hoo!
But until then it’s back to enjoying room service, valet parking, pool and spa time!
Image taken from http://indianexpress.com/article/technology/science/melting-glaciers-a-spoke-in-earths-wheel/
It’s that time of year again where you literally become a shrinky dink when you walk outside. If you smell something roasting, it’s you. Both in Phoenix and the UAE temps are hovering around 120 F, which is never a fun thing. In the UAE we have the added fun of humidity, Ramadan (which includes hungry, thirsty, cranky drivers), and covering one’s arms and legs. Not that I’m complaining (okay maybe a little). Luckily, we also have a/c powerful enough to chill indoor skating rinks and ski slopes, so all is well.
I’m back from my time in Virginia and busy doing the exit tango. For those of you who will one day leave the UAE remember the best way to handle this is play circus music in your head while you’re running from one place to the next to get your stamps and signatures. For those of you not in the UAE wondering why we do this: A. we want to leave legally and, most importantly, B. we want our End Of Service gratuity (which will be a pretty sight in my bank account, until, alas it melts away too).
I was in our main office on Sunday, and I totally wished I could play my mental circus tune out loud. Hahaha I kept running into the same people I know (hey Sangita!) while dashing back and forth amongst corridors to get our signatures.
The good news is the visa in my passport is cancelled, as is my emirates ID, so I don’t have to panic wondering if my passport will be back in my hands in time for my July 6 flight. It’s now official: I have 30 days to leave the country (of course I can always come back for a visit). The countdown is on.
It’s my hope that I will be finished with the close-out process by this Thursday, and I’m thinking that will actually happen — inshAllah. I see a celebratory Iftar in my near future. Then all I have to do is show up to work, play with my pals here, pack up my last suitcase and meet my family in Germany. 17 more days!
I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to wax all nostalgic yet, but I’m sure that’ll happen next week when I’ll have time to relax and enjoy my last days here.
As for news on the Belgium job, I got an email that my travel orders paperwork was submitted yesterday. I don’t actually know what that means, but I know it’s a good thing. My official passport is being processed at the state gov office, which is also a good thing. And, I have a tentative class schedule and rosters (teaching 11th grade English and ESL). So, I’m sensing I’ll be making my move to Belgium early August. This means I’ll have just a few weeks — maybe two — in Phoenix before I leave, but I’ll be back for Christmas.
So, there you have it. I’m melting (wish that included my fat, but ugh I’m still eating more than I burn), but things are getting done. There’s an actual finish line in front of me, and right behind that another starting line. Come on lands of cooler temps!
Image taken from: https://www.nps.gov/subjects/urban/richmond-va.htm
Not the novel, but my journey to new employment. Oh my goodness what an eclectic ride it has been!
I’m back in Richmond for a few days, so that I can do the multitude of things I need to do to move along in my new-hire processing. While Richmond is no New Orleans, it’s wonderful to be back in the southern city where I spent my 20s getting educated and, well, pregnated. All sorts of birthing happened for me here. Plus, it’s a beautiful almost-too-north-to-be-southern (if you ask folk from Georgia) city, although hello? it was the capital of another confederacy, so southern it is. Today’s Richmond has kept its antebellum charm while mixing in a whole lot of modern art, edge and yumminess (micro breweries and restaurants galore — woo hoo!). But, that’s not what this post is about (although God Bless the food, booze and my friends!).
Day Two of being back: I finally get through to my HR specialist. We haven’t been able to connect since I got good news from her in mid-May. I told her I got paperwork from a friend and managed to get my medical check done (by 4 different doctors, but that’s part of my UAE crazy), etc. etc. Could I meet with her after I met with the security guy? Sure. Is there anything else I need to bring? Lemme check. Pause … she needs the welcome packet back that she thought she sent in May, and she needs the affidavit letter signed in front of a notary.
Um, I never got this packet.
Another pause to check, and an, oh man, you didn’t get it, well I need it. Let me send it to you.
I receive packet. It’s 45 pages long. Michelle, whom I’m staying with, has a lovely printer, but it’s not working, so her friend goes to his work to print all of it out for me — on the softest, sleekest paper ever. Win.
Next up, find a notary. No problem, it’s a gorgeous day outside and the post office and a bank are within walking distance. So two friends and I begin our three hour tour. First up: the Post Office, but it’s closed and a stationary mail truck is open instead. The lady inside barely looks up from her magazine and then looks at me like I’m crazy when I ask if she’s also a notary. She says something I can’t hear and points to the bank.
We go into bank only to get caught up in a bullet-proof glass security thing. A lady loudly says “only one person in the box please!” My friends escape outside, so I go in to be told sorry, our notary has left for the day, but there’s a funeral home down the road.
We’re not really sure where it is when a man with one of those mechanical voices scares the shit out of us by being nice and telling us which way to go.
Funeral home one: friends and I go in feeling weird because we’re too alive and too happy to be there. That notary is also gone for the day.
Funeral home lady is nice enough to call another funeral home to discover that yay their notary is in. She tells us how to get there, but then looks at us (realizing we’re a little sweaty), “you walking or driving?” Walking. “Oh lord that’s a bit of a ways.”
You see our plan was to walk to notary, get my stamp and then stop at this place called Patrick Henrys, which is an awesome lil tavern, but now we have to walk all the way back to Michelle’s, so we can drive to the next funeral home, and then find our way to a much-needed bar stool.
Funeral home two: Now we’re in Six Feet Under territory. First funeral home could pass for something else, this one was definitely meant for the dead and grieving. But, the man in suit and tie was very nice and brought me to the back room. My pen explodes and I say something inappropriate about God and me being where the dead are getting spruced up. I laugh, my notary laughs, and the other man in there laughs too. We’re all happy and giddy, and I’m thanking them too cheerfully and loudly as I get to reception area and lo and behold there is a woman in an all-fuscia pant suit crying. Why she was wearing all bright pink to mourn is beyond me, but I still felt awkward to be as cheery as her pants when she was obviously not. It’s all good because ten minutes later I’m celebrating my stamp at Patrick Henrys.
Morning of Day Three: The welcome packet email included contact information for the person who will be working on my official passport. Luckily for me she’s an early riser and gets back to me before Michelle and I leave for D.C. for my HR appointments. Long story short I quickly discover I need to turn in my regular passport, which is a problem because I’m going back to the UAE in a few days. Official passport processing could take up to a month. I won’t be back in the states until July 20, and I’m expected to begin my new job on Aug 10 — so as you can see there’s a problem. Passport lady tells me to do something online and come see her when I’m finished with the rest of my appointments. Needless to say, I am freaking out and beyond stressed but off we go.
I get to HR office and now I feel like Maxwell Smart because I have to walk my way through concrete hallways and a series of doors (including, later on, one that looked like a vault door) before I get to a security man with a big-ass gun on his lap. He’s nice and points to where I need to go next. They’re serious security dudes who take my ID and have me call my first appointment to pick me up. I’m dressed casually while everyone else waiting is all suited up because they’re interviewing. Again, we’re surrounded by bullet proof glass and all sorts of security type doors. My guy joins me, and I follow him to only, get this, I shit you not: get my back pack stuck in the revolving door. I’m like a turtle on its back just kicking its lil legs up. I’m embarrassed and joke “Oh shit I broke the DOD.”
Big-gun man laughs, the other guys try to keep it professional, but they’re definitely wondering who hired this idiot. My appointment, thank God, is getting a kick out of this, and the rest of our time together is fun — even when my damned finger prints would NOT flipping take right.
Long story longer: I enjoy everyone I meet in the security office (while Comey’s testifying on the t.v. near us) and am passed on to my HR person, who was so different in person than what I expected. We do our thing — yay most of my stuff seems to be worked out — and then I’m brought to the passport lady, who is my saving grace! She completes my processing in person, takes my pic, makes me swear it’s all true and tells me to rush my original birth certificate to her, which can take the place of my passport. Do I have my birth certificate? No, but it’s in Arizona, and God Bless my husband because he managed to find it (which I’m sure was an amusing sight) and overnight it, so my passport processing is happening — whew! — and I can fly back to the UAE to finish up my contract there.
There are a few more things I need to do before I finally receive my travel orders, but despite the craziness and the stress, I’m glad I got to meet the people behind the scenes. I liked them all and hope they’re a reflection of what my new co-workers will be like. I don’t yet have the final orders, but after all this crazy I think it’s time I finally told you all where I’m going next.
I don’t know how I managed to pull it off, but I actually got a job in Belgium. Lucky me will be working at an international high school in the NATO base south of Brussels. It’s been a stressful few months, but woo hoo! I can smell the frites, beer and chocolate now. To heck with ever getting rid of my Budha belly. Up next? Mama has to learn some French.
And, survive any more trials and tribulations that are sure to come up before I get there. But Belgium here I come — um, inshAllah!