Questions that are making me edgy.

In an IBPYP school you know where, should we reconcile class-ism (which may also thinly veil racism) and sexism?

If not, how do we acknowledge and address class-ism (which may also thinly veil racism) and sexism?

In an attempt at an "international progressive community" you know where, should we reconcile class-ism (which may also thinly veil racism) and sexism?

If not, how do we acknowledge and address class-ism (which may also thinly veil racism) and sexism?

What is the difference between a piece of cloth worn over the hair by choice or by force?

What is the difference between my Granny's babushka and the hijab?

What is the difference between protect and conceal?

What is the difference between to protect and to hold hostage?

What does choice look like?

What does freedom look like?

What does oppression look like?

What does subjugation look like?

What are the similarities between veiling (hide, conceal, ensconce) and oppression?

How might Stockholm syndrome (disambiguation) apply to the lives of women in oppressive cultures?

How might Stockholm syndrome (disambiguation) apply to the lives of men in oppressive cultures?

The IB rocks.

This is an excellent video that outlines the Learner Profile in the IB curriculum. It sums up a great deal of why I am so keen to participate in this model of education.

I am debt free!!!!!!!!!

My Classroom

My house

My House:

If you can see the two guys at the window, they are cleaning off this strange white film that was covering my entire two story window. Out this window is a view of our bay on the Red Sea. We (that is, the maintenance department) had to put up scaffolding on my balcony to do it, but now I have one of the best views on campus. Here's hoping I get to keep it. This apartment is fantastic.

Notes from a broad (title suggestion by my ever hilarious former teaching partner. Thanks Cheryl!)

Here in the land of heat and sand,

work and more work is the task at hand.

Watching movie after movie is the thing I've found

to occupy my time while living in this compound.

It's true that only the mad dogs and the English men,

go outside when the desert sun beats down on them.

While none would classify me as English, male, or dog,

I wonder upon midday street: for what did I sign on?

To find the life in this hot place, (did I mention that it's hot?)

I've come to see that real life is not in the places that I thought.

Melanie and Nestor, who come from the Philippines

or Solomon from India, are here, like me, for means.

This unlikely global community in the House of Saud,

all have hope for something more, insha-Allah, if it's the will of God.

Tolerance for 'isms' is the template of our lives,

we'll put up with almost anything for the cash we'll put aside.

Now don't get me wrong, god forbid, it's not that I have a bad attitude.

It's just that travel adventures in Saudi Arabia seem to elude,

the quaint village-children-street food scenes one finds in the developing world.

Instead it has been like The Truman Show, a strange mall, a fishbowl world.

And yet, when at dusk I close my eyes to the wind filled with subtle rich call,

Come pray, sings the man, again and again. His lifetime to beckon us all.

And so, I contemplate imperfection, and how much I still have to learn,

and trust my truth to reveal itself. My home still needs to be earned.

new things

Air conditioner: off, ha! Take that, 40 degrees celsius.

Hijab: on, comfortably.

Crazy-white-full-size-window-stickers covering my beautiful view of the harbor: gone!

No drinky-drinky: happy liver and organ function. While I hesitate online to be too explicit with this description, lets suffice it to say that upon indulging in (a small amount of) local homemade treats I woke up feeling fuzzy and think I can do without except for special occasions! It kind of made me cognizant of the fact that it's actually POISON.

Beyond compound walls: discovered. Hee hee, after passing through the 2 majorly guarded gates of the university our taxi drive (Samual, from India) pulled over so that he and Chris (my borrowed husband for the evening) could sort out the mp3 player and plug it in. Behind us drives up a large National Guard vehicle with full spotlights lighting up our car, with a full on loud speaker demanding Samual to get out and identify our intentions. A little chaos ensued with the fumbling of cables and us unrolling our windows to say "oh sorry, we're just trying to get our tunes set-up!". Samual went over to them, made some hand gestures implying "whoopsy, sorry!" (he doesn't speak Arabic either being from India) and we were on our way. My thoughts on this: awesome! Not only are we very well protected (no random cars stopping outside the university walls, thank you very much), but if it's just some dumb-ass foreigners fumbling with an mp3 player you just get checked out and encouraged politely to mosey on your way! The National Guard, in this case, was most rational.

The little town outside the university: dumpy and refreshing, with not a woman to be found. Actually, we spied one making her way across the main road, which I mistakenly identified as a back road (silly me). Samual said, "oh no, madame, this is the only road". Cats everywhere and shops that could have been in any part of the hot developing world (you know the kind: cement pad in front, mini garage door opening, weak AC and a fan blowing, selling a random assortment of fishing, kitchen, household supplies...). Did I mention we (Liz - Chris's real wife) and I were the only women? There was sand and garbage dropped everywhere, and the fresh odor of rot and fish wafting by - but not consistently. We also found an awesome restaurant that we will go back to because it looked GREAT. You pick out your fish - like, a whole one, from the ice counter - and then they fry or roast it for you. The also serve other lebanese-like yummies. I'll have to try it and let you know how it is. I have a feeling that that restaurant is going to be a saving grace from the insulate nature of the university.

If you are wondering why I only say "the university", it's because online it's better not to have the name come up, just in case I say something too controversial on here and incriminate myself. Safety first!

Thanks for reading - feel free to write back!

C xo

The school

however..... this school has a strong mission and vision. It is filled with people who are really keen to implement a top notch international program. Personal integrity and professional dedication are high. I think collaboration is going to be fun and easy.

I have been assigned grades 1 - 5 performing arts. So that means that I get the kids three times per week for 45 minutes. I am welcome to teach them music, dance, and/or drama. This is great because not only do I see them more often that I normally have at most other schools I have taught, but the program can be more comprehensive and hopeful connect authentically with what they are doing in class.

My room is on hold. It is currently full of giant computer desks that are not gr 1-5 appropriate. So once those are moved out, and after I do some major shopping this weekend (which is tomorrow!! - TGIW, baby!), I think I will be feeling better about my classroom.

I met one of the other music teachers today and he is very keen, experienced, and creative. The secondary program is intense - strings, wind, brass, percussion, choral, and various other 'world music' ensembles. Not to mention the music technology stations. It's going to take some time and money to get my program up to a similar level. (Hopefully not too much of my own money!)

Miranda and I have been invited to a dinner party tonight with a group of returning teachers, so that will be nice. Miranda is an early childhood teacher from LA/Texas who is new to the school this year. We will be traveling to Dubai together in September during Eid if we can get tickets. I need to book those asap! My friend Fonseca, who used to teach at Greybrook, will be in Dubai by next week teacher there, so we will stay with him. It's fun to have friends all over the world.

Well, byebye for now. Take care anybody who is reading this!

The First Week

There are some stories that I don't want to tell anymore because they happened last week and now seem old to write about. In order to make the writing of this blog more meaningful for me, more like a creative writing opportunity rather than a report, I'll have to talk about what happened from yesterday onwards.

*** I step from the over-air conditioned school into the wet-hot air. My hands immediately start to go from cold to warm as though I were holding them in front of a fire, or maybe running them under the hot tap. It's a relief for the first 4 seconds. Then the hair at the back of neck tickles with sweat and if I don't put my hair up immediately it will be all I can think about. Discomfort is not something to which I have become accustomed. I wipe the sweat off my sunglasses and then off my face with my scarf which I am about to cover my head with, not for modesty, although that is always welcome, but to keep the sun off my face - it's 40 degrees celsius. I need to get to HR on the little busses that pass by every few minutes in the hour (no, 50 minutes) that I have before everything closes.

The room that I have been sitting in since 7:30 am (ironically) wasn't well air-conditioned, so we slowly wilted as the day progressed. My colleagues and I have been taking computer training for the last 3 or 4 days - teachers being taught, teachers staring at a computer screen in 8 hours shifts. We work in a different context now.

The hardships are unpredictable here in the university compound, and I think they are due to the fact that it's so new and systems are not yet in place.

What I've found: a good deal of redtape and hoop-jumping with paper-work set-up, keeping western business hours in the hottest time of the year in the desert, and a steep learning curve for processes that are meant to make life easier, but serve only to complicate until the tool is mastered.

So far there have not been any significant challenges with Saudi culture. Wearing an abaya is easy. In fact, inside the air-conditioned buildings it's nice because it can be chilly. Plus, looking like everyone else is important when they are all wearing the same thing. Just imagine if you were in the mall and someone walked by with no pants on! We would be shocked - and maybe someone would say something about it to them. The people I have encountered in Jeddah at The Mall of Arabia and IKEA (yes, seriously) treat me completely normally, friendly in fact. "Welcome, mum (ma'am)" they say. And as we return on the bus along the 80km strip of 6 lane highway with mad men driving 140km/h, cutting each other off from all angles, I look out at the expanse of desert (which looks like tan coloured gravel) and hope we make it back to the main gate of the university to present our ID's to security personnel without rolling the bus.

Life here is easy when you aren't trying to get something done! Too bad I can't have a stiff drink after days like this!

Welcome to my blog. I am still over coming the arrogance of blogging (no offense to the blogging community), but since it is a convenient way to communicate with my loved ones ..... away we go!