the dust storm cometh

Thursday, May 14, 2009

As we walked home from school on Thursday, their was a vortex of dust swirling in the distance. We walked home briskly so we could make sure that the windows were closed and the house was protected from the impending dust storm. We had to run to the store to pick up some supplies for Anouk's birthday party on Friday, so we had no choice to go outside and deal with the dust.

As we arrived at City Centre, we stopped to photograph the dust storm. Yuck.

The first picture is from the parking lot at City Centre.

The second picture is the new apartment across the street. All of that brick was laid during the day. There was no sand on it before 230 pm.

The third picture is night falling on our little ghetto. The haze is repulsive.

The day our world shook!

2.10.09
Well, it truly has been an exciting couple of weeks. We’ve gone from having coffee with the Belgian ambassador to bomb threats. From riding camels in the desert to spending nights up coughing up sand.

I guess I should start at the beginning…

Inauguration Night here in Kuwait was as amazing as it was around the world. I walked into our school auditorium surrounded by about 70 other comrades. From first glance it was a nice turnout. But if you looked closer, it was an amazing turnout, because this Inauguration Party was attended less by Americans and more by Canadians, French, Kuwaiti, Egyptian, Australian, and New Zealanders. The number of American flags waving in the hands of those who weren’t even US citizens was remarkable with such an authentic sense of pride and hope for the next four years. I can’t wait until I get to tell my own kids where I was the day Obama became President.

Days later, Rob and I took a personal day to continue working on the visa process which will earn Xavier and Anouk their Kuwaiti visas. Our first appointment was at the Kenyan embassy where, without question, Xavier’s birth certificate was authenticated as REAL and we were off to a good start. By the time we got to the Belgian embassy, things started to take a bit of a downturn. The Belgian embassy was no longer allowed to authenticate official Belgian documents unless the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Belgium had signed them. Here we go again, we thought. But on our way out the door, the secretary asked us if we’d like to meet the Ambassador. Rob turned down her offer with the thought that he must be too busy to talk some peons like us. With a look of horror on her face I urged Rob to change his mind by saying, “I don’t think you’re supposed to refuse the Ambassador.” So… minutes later we were on our way to his office to drink coffee with him. We spent about 15 minutes with him, talking about Belgium, Kenya, and what we’re doing in Kuwait. As his secretary escorted us out of the embassy we told her that our next appointment was at the fortress they call the US Embassy. She wished us luck and joked that the US Ambassador may be otherwise unable to greet us today. You think?

Well, our US Embassy experience was as bad as it has been in every country where I had to deal with an Embassy so I will avoid writing about it now. Needless to say, we need to start from the beginning with all of our US documents.

Now… fast forward to this weekend. A couple of weeks ago we got an email about a day at a Bedouin camp with dancing, cultural lessons, camel rides, and a traditional lunch. A camel? Hell yeah! I’ve kept the kids hopeful about seeing a camel for 5 months, it was time for me to make good on my promise. So this Saturday, we were on our way. We met at the A.W.A.R.E. (Advocates of Western-Arab RElations) center and were shocked to see four gigantic busses loading hundreds of people. Our dream of an intimate afternoon in the desert was shattered with the quick calculation that 400+ of our new best friends would be joining us.

In a nutshell, the adventure was a bit of a bust. Not that we’re upset that we went, but we were expecting a lot of traditional Bedouin things. Traditional camps, food, dancing, people, cultural lessons, etc. And what we got was a lot of what the Kuwaitis do when they live in their spring camp. (Spring camp is the time between January and March, when all government-owned desert land is opened up and people are allowed to squat temporarily on the land. They put up a nice white tent, plug in their generators, park their Ferrari outside, hook up the satellite, and spend long weekends out in the dessert where kids play outside on ATV’s and in the sand dunes.) It’s the oddest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, but I am happy that my kids DID get to see a camel. Xavier rode by himself and oddly enough, Anouk was brave enough too. As responsible adults, we wouldn’t let her go 6-feet into the air by herself so her new boyfriend, Mr. Jason, jumped aboard and protected her should she make the 6-foot fall. After a non-traditional lunch of Indian and Italian food, we loaded in the car and were glad to have had the experience. We returned home tanner than when we arrived, but a quick shower returned us to our regular color.

The next day, Sunday, our life got flipped upside down. While out to break with my students, my Principal came over to tell me that there was a bomb scare and 10 minutes from then, the kids would line up as if it was a fire drill and we would proceed from there. After a ridiculously chaotic fire drill, the elementary school was led passed dozens of police, military, and other oddly official people. When we reached the auditorium, our Principal got on the loud speaker and announced to the students that the fire drill was such a success that they were being rewarded with a showing of “Charlotte’s Web.” The kids were stoked until the first group had to go to the bathroom. While escorting a group to the bathroom, the questions started: “Ms. Angela, how come those mean-looking dogs are there?” or “Miss, do you know what that sign says? [referring to the yellow police-tape] “it says, bomb team.” OH GREAT!! Within 30 minutes, rumors, gossip, and fear had run through the auditorium. Parents were rushing in to pull their kids out of school within 10 minutes of us arriving—how did they find out so quick? Man, we have a SERIOUS gossip trail here. And then there were poor Xavier and Anouk—innocently sitting by their friends trying to watch “Charlotte’s Web.” Rob pulled them out when the HS was evacuated and I stayed on for another hour until all of my kids were picked up. After closing the school and the days events being confirmed a hoax, we were unsure as to whether or not to send the kids on Monday. But, like good hopeful employees, we dutifully went to work with kids in toe.

School started normally at 7:45 am. At 9:10 am I was on my way to Xavier’s classroom to give him his asthma medicine. When I arrived in the nurse’s office, a High School student told me that the nurse wasn’t there because she was busy tending to issues with the high school kids who were evacuated because a bomb was found in the boys bathroom. AWESOME! I tried to casually walk Xavier back to class when I saw three middle and high school teachers running feverishly to their kids’. It was the hysterical mother with tears streaming down her face while she was talking on her cell phone that convinced me something REALLY serious was going on. I quickly took Xavier and Anouk out of class and walked them home. On my way, I spoke to my Principal who said, “Do what you need to, but get back here soon.” I ran the kids home and I kept saying, “I love you”, not knowing what was going to happen next. I got back to school and within three minutes of being in my classroom, I was lining my kids up for an immediate evacuation off the school campus. Our staging ground ended up being in the middle of a disgusting sand trap full of old couches, boats, fridges, and demolished cars—yup, we called parents to pick their kids up from the middle of a police station where tragic car wrecks go to die. That’s uplifting.

Anyway… I got my parents called and my students home in record time, just to be told that the bomb was a hoax and we were to return to school for a working afternoon.
Needless to say, we are exhausted (both emotionally and physically) and are frustrated (both as parents and professionals). It’s been a long week and I hope tomorrow is better.

To read a Kuwaiti Blog’s take on the story, our stupidity, and the DRAMA that is AIS, click here.

Where the Streets Have No Name…

We’ve been busy since our return to Kuwait. We’ve been putting the finishing touches on our apartment—framing art, murals on the kids play room, and organizing our storage areas—fun stuff that we should have done four months ago, but that we’re doing now, in our beautiful new blue building!

Next plan of attack—finish report cards. Without a school-wide grading scheme or computer program, we had 5 days from arrival to complete our report cards and have them ready for printing. Our fourth grade team collaborated greatly and were praised over and over again by our Principal and Vice Principal (there’s a first time for everything!) Rob’s story is not so pleasant so we’ll save that news for another day.

The last thing on our to-do list was the purchase of a new-to-us car! We have officially crossed that item off our list. After a rather interesting few days of car shopping which requires the assistance of multiple people speaking a plethora of languages, Rob and I agreed to come in way under budget and buy a decent looking [read: ugly], well-running (for a 10-year-old), Pajero SUV with extra seats in the back for guests (yup, we’re talking to you family!) We knew it was the car for us when we walked up to it and it had a huge “X” hanging from it’s rear-view mirror.

So our holy day (Friday) was spent doing errands without overpaying taxis. We drove to the airport to pick up Anouk’s car seat (which didn’t make it from Belgium when we did). From there, we went to the largest mall in Kuwait, called the Avenues. It’s the mall that currently has 11 busy Starbucks. It’s the mall where they are currently adding another wing with, I’m sure, at least 5 more coffee stops! The Avenues mall houses IKEA and our favorite grocery store—Carrefour. Since we didn’t have to fit our belongings into the back of an extra-large taxi—we went crazy! Two carts and $200 later we had filled the back of our new-to-us car with loads of stuff. It was as if we were at Costco, stockpiling the way we did.

We bought 12 wine-size bottles of grape juice and have been passing them around to friends in the building. During every meal, we’ve been pressuring the kids to drink the grape juice so we have enough empty bottles to work with. Yup, our brew kits came into the country without issue, so Rob will begin brewing soon.

On our way back from the Avenues mall, our trunk was too full for a stop at the plant souk to bring some beautiful greenery into our apartment. Well, that and the blinking red light on our dash, helped us put an end to our outing. Though the gas gauge said ½ full, the red light was definitely scaring us to find a gas station. And go figure—Kuwaitis live off the oil in this darn country, but when you need a gas station, there isn’t a thing in sight. After a few hairy minutes, the car crept into the gas station. After loading the car with 84 liters of gas, Rob handed over 5.5 KD (about $20/15 Euros). It was such a wonderful moment for us, that we couldn’t help but photograph it for posterity. At that price, we plan on getting lost in the desert next weekend on a quest for some camels. Wish us luck!

Between the car, the beautiful apartment, and the brew—we’re starting to carve out a nitch for ourselves. But don’t get me wrong, it’s a VERY temporary nitch!

turn that frown upside down

Written 11/10, forgot to upload to the website.

After nearly 4 months of lame excuses, today the excitement started. We went to ACE/True Value Hardware and picked out paint colors for our beautiful new place in the gorgeous new blue building. OUR BUILDING! It stands out like a clean, fresh beacon in our dirty, old, Iranian ghetto (in the middle of Kuwait). The smell of paint and wood finish permeate every nook and cranny of the building and is a welcome reprieve because it means our new place is nearly finished.

As we start to prepare our new house for our impending move, there is still sadness. As we plan and prepare, we notice that our new location has windows facing away from the neighboring mosque. This means--no call to prayers. The call to prayers have become like an inviting friend... a peaceful sound that I have recently began turning back into at 4 a.m. (and using in lieu of an alarm clock). I will miss them when they are gone.

Though I will miss them, there is a new beautiful sound in my life... and that is the sound of my little Xavier reading his sight word books (see the YouTube video on the right to hear him).

I look forward to telling you great things about our new move! Happy days are here again!

a lot of catching up to do...

written on September 26...

No excuses. I haven't blogged in way too long. Though I'm sick (with what they call the Kuwaiti crud), tired, and distracted by the lazy life that exists during Ramadan, I have no excuses for my tardiness.

So let me start at the beginning.

Ramadan: It's the time of year that Muslims honor the Qur'an being revealed to the prophet Mohammed. This always occurs during the ninth month (of the Islamic calendar) and is determined by the cycle of the new moon. During Ramadan, Muslims are diligent about praying and fast during the daylight hours. The idea is that fasting will teach people to be patient, cooperation, humility, and sacrifice. It is the job of Muslims to seek forgiveness for past sins and work towards good deeds in the present. What this really means is--life stops for a whole month!  Schools and business open late, close early, then open after Iftar and life begins at 8pm. 

Our take on Ramadan: Rob and I are so done with Ramadan. By the time we are home from school, stores are closed. You can't get any work done between 3.00 and 7.30 pm. And since our kids are asleep by 8.00, we're in a lot! We can't wait for Eid (the celebration that marks the end of Ramadan) because life should get back to normal. That means, grocery shopping and errands during the day. Drinking water or grabbing a snack during the day is OK. Just three more days!

Gurgiyan: a children's celebration to mark the halfway point of Ramadan. Kids dress up in ethnic costumes (mostly Arabic) and knock on people's door (much like our Halloween). In lieu of "trick-of-treat" children sing a little Arabic tune which earns them sweet treats. In America, "trick-or-treat" earns a couple bite-size Snickers or a set of jelly vampire teeth. Here, a Gurgiyan song earns you a bag full of candy. 

Our take on Gurgiyan: With a few girlfriends in toe, we spent the weekend before the big day going Gurgiyan dress shopping. This was harder than we expected because Gurgiyan is really just a kids day. But, when you're a teacher, it's kind of expected that you participate. Xavier's dishdasha (the long, white men's robe that is matched with a variety of scarf-like head dresses, held to the head by a black band) and Anouk's dress (which has a name that I cannot remember) were easy to find. 

Gurgiyan is the total opposite of Ramadan. It's full of indulgence and abundance--which all take form as little sweets. Yes, CANDY! Holy crap. I've never seen this much candy in my life. I think our little threesome (Xavier, Anouk, and I--since Rob is part of the high school and they don't celebrate) brought home over 4 lbs. of candy. After unwrapping toys, gifts, treasure boxes, and candy, I kept a stash for the kids and returned copious amounts to our respective classrooms as student rewards after Ramadan.

 The one aspect to keep from  Gurgiyan is the costuming. Kids dress in ethnic clothing (mostly Arabic) and look adorable. In addition, we adults get to learn a lot about the costuming from different Arab states, so it's a lesson for me too!

Iftar: During Ramadan, iftar is the time of night when a family meets together to break their fast. Iftar occurs after the Maghrib (sunset) prayers (and for us non-Muslims are irrerevrently referred to as the "call to eat" prayers).  As the prayers begin, families all over the Arab world break fast with a date (or two) and a drink of water. The families then make their way to the mosque for their Maghrib prayers (the fourth set of prayers for the day). Once this is completed, the iftar begins and families begin their evening feast which often lasts for hours. Because people have not eaten all day, their stomach's cannot handle much food. For this reason, most iftar celebrations include a lavish display of food and is eaten into the wee hours of the morning.

Our take on Iftar: Our school holds a fancy iftar dinner at a hotel every year. We couldn't make it because we were a family full of sickies. So I was incredibly excited when an Arabic and Islamic teacher, at the school, personally invited me to the Religion staff's iftar at our school. As I walked up to the high school canteen area (an area near our school's indoor gym and the school mosque), the ceiling was lined with student-made lanterns (or fanous as they are called in Arabic) and a table was all laid with beautiful colored papers, bowls of dates, and glasses of water. About a hundred students, teachers, and parents milled around this table waiting to hear the Maghrib. As the prayers rang loud from the distance, the mass flocked swiftly to the table to grab a date and a glass of water. I was stunned how gentle everyone was. After two or three dates, the group migrated to the mosque while us non-Muslims quietly waited for the iftar to begin. 

About 10 minutes later, the Muslim group returned from the mosque and the iftar began with a decadent display of food. The food was amazing. The most delicious chicken in a mildly spicy gravy with spices I've never heard of or tasted before was my favorite (but since then, I've since forgotten the name of the chicken loveliness). This and about 10 other beautiful meat dishes were complimented with at least 50 sides: from salads to breads, rice dishes to cold vegetable platters-- it was a feast for sure.

The iftar was followed by a lecture, in the school's mosque, by a world-renowned theologian. The lecture was intended to educate people on the holy month of Ramadan but quickly evolved into a comparison between Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (with a strong focus on the latter as superior). It was interesting though a little preachy. 

The most interesting thing he said, in a way of discussing radicals like Osama bin Laden, was that there is a distinct difference between Arabs and Muslims. He said that most Muslims are just Muslims because their parents are. This theologian called this type of Muslim: an Arab. He said that Islam is a chosen religion and you must believe and practice the religion, which, in it's simplest form is a religion based on love, respect, and cleanliness (of body and soul). He said Arabs fight, are disrespectful to others, and do not keep themselves or their communities clean. He said that when he walks around Kuwait (and even our school) he notices more Arabs than Muslims. 

So that's it. That's what we've been up to during the holy month. Not much, but a lot of cultural learning has happened. My next post will be soon... inshallah (god willing). Inshallah is how everything gets done here: "your apartment will be ready soon [pregnant pause], inshallah." "This medicine should make you better [a brief pause], inshallah." "Your civil ID will be here by the end of the week [giggle, giggle], inshallah."

So again... my next post will be soon [with a little grimmace] inshallah.

Heck Yeah!

Ok, I guess it's about time for me to put in my 5 fils (2 cents) worth. I can't believe my 3 and 5 year old kids posted stuff on here before I did, but then again, I don't have a secretary to do my typing for me. Here's my digest of our first three weeks in Kuwait. I won't bore you with the same stuff you've already heard about, instead I'll give you the  stories you won't hear anywhere else.

I have to start with a big kudo to Xavier and Anouk, I still can't believe how well they did on the way over here. Once we got to the airport though, we started experiencing Kuwait. Our first little adventure was a trip to the bathroom where Xavi had to go #2. Didn't seem like a big deal until I opened the door to the stall: a squatting toilet. Xavier had no idea what he was supposed to do and I'm sure if you would have taped our antics we would have been an instant hit on youtube. Unfortunately everything didn't go as planned so we needed a change of underwear. After finding Angela and some clean undies we headed back to the restrooms to change. This time we opened a different stall and you guessed it: it was equipped with a regular toilet, the kind we all know and love.

Xavier pulled another fast one on us today as we were coming home from school. We were going up in the elevator with one of our colleagues. Xavier was very polite and asked him what his name was, which was Mr. Powers. When we got off on our floor we asked Xavi to say goodbye to Mr. Powers so just as the door is closing he proceeds to say (loudly): bye Mr. Grumpy! It was definitely one of those surreal should we laugh or should we cry moments, so we quickly went inside and laughed.

Anouk is also her little self, although she now claims to be shy all the time (something she picked up from Xavi). She's obviously not shy though since all the teachers in preschool already knew her by the end of the first week, and her teacher told me after her second day of school that Anouk is very expressive and had no problems "sharing" her opinion. I tried to apologize for Anouk's motor mouth but her teacher proceeded to tell me that she loves it. We'll see how long that lasts.

That's it for now. I wanted to post some pictures of my first photojournalistic essay: "who am I, a journey of self discovery through pictures", but we lost our card reader so you'll have to wait a little longer.  Until next time, ma as-salaamah,

Robert

it's every girls dream!

(written 9/6, but due to the temporary loss of our card reader, no pictures could be uploaded, hence, no blog)

... to own an antique camel saddle? Not really, but then again, I'm not every girl! A group of ladies escorted a few of us newbies to Gloria's shop. Gloria is a British woman who has spent the last 25 years living in Kuwait and purchasing, reconstructing, and refurbishing Arabic and Indian antiques. I have met an angel here in Kuwait. And her name is Gloria.

As I was perusing amazing tables, dressers, frames, mirrors, and chairs, I walked by this bizarre looking item propped in the corner of the room. I passed by it. Touched it. Was awed by it. And dismissed it as an odd prop. But as I moved through the rooms and could see this odd decoration from the corner of my eye--I became more intrigued by it. What the heck is it? What would you use it for? Why is it here?

I passed from room to room, upstairs and downstairs, inside and out, and yet forces kept pulling me towards it. So I finally found the label, read it, and found out that this peculiar item was an antique camel saddle. Though I couldn't imagine how I would justify the purchase to Rob, or concoct a reasonable use for it. I couldn't imagine leaving without it. 

So I didn't!

And now, I am the proud owner of an antique camel saddle with little to no purpose whatsoever. So if you are so inclined, drop me a line with your suggestions. How would you use such a useless item? (keep in mind, it has been leaning in the corner in an upright position and another one was in the bathroom at Gloria's store and was used as a towel rack).

they say it's your birthday...

... and finally, Xavier's birthday was once again celebrated in the same time zone he celebrated his birthday. It was very exciting (and very reminiscent). Poor little Xavi had only been in school for 4 days when his birthday arrived, so a party with long-time friends was certainly out of the question. So we came to a compromise--a cookie and milk bash for friends in class followed by a small family dinner (at home, since it's Ramadan and we can't eat out before sunset), and then ice cream with a few new friends. But when I brought the idea to the mom of one of his friends (she and her husband have been here for a year in their second tour to Kuwait) she wasn't having any of it! The party would be at her house and she wouldn't take no for an answer.

Before departure, Xavier received happy birthday calls from multiple continents with kisses and hugs from grandparents and friends. Then, at 6.30 on Thursday night, we made our way through the 87% humidity to their overly air conditioned house with ice cream and sundae fixings. By the end of the night, Xavier had accrued a slew of new toys for his room, had heard "the birthday song" 6 times in 3 different languages, and was happy that he was 5 and could start learning to read.

Though it wasn't the typical Angela-created birthday party--it was wonderful to see his joy.

from the mouths of babes...

-from Xavier

My first day of school was good and I was so naughty because I was not relaxing and I talked at Papa's school. On my first day of school I made friends, but I don't remember his name. Joseph is my new friend. I didn't know how to read yet. I like my school because I make a lot of friends and I play on the playground. I was going up the pole. I raced the bikes like zoooom. And the the other guy was going slow and I went swooosh and went faster than him. Now I am done, Mama.

-from Anouk

Mama, school is good. And today, when my teacher came another teacher came and then my teacher came again. And I had two teachers and it was good. At school we play. We play with toys and friends and that's it. I forgot what else we do. We play at the playground  and the it rains because it is hot when I play too much. In the big boy area it rains a lot but we play at the small kid area sometime. We play at the big kid area too. Now our new home in Kuwait is good. Our good home is good that I love the school that we love. I eat snack at my school and it is yummy because I like crackers. And also, the crackers have names. Like, uh, and they also have chocolate milk like Starbucks. Isn't that cool mama? It's like Starbucks. Hey Mama, my day was good.

-from Mama

Looks like they really had a great first (and second) day of school. Xavier is bummed that they haven't taught him how to read yet, but that will come. He actually has been moved into a class with more western kids so when the students are taken out for Arabic and Religion (Kuwaiti mandated classes), he isn't the only one that doesn't attend. Anouk likes the rain at playground which refers to misters that cool them while they play outside. I know that they are happy because conversation has changed from "when are we going back to Fremont?" to "when we visit Fremont." School is cool on all counts.

a little R & R

written August 26, 2008

This week has been incredibly hectic. As an elementary teacher, I have moved from inservice to inservice without so much as a minute to get into my room to get cracking. Don't get me wrong, I now know my curriculum and I know about my "units of inquiry" or our PYP program (an amazing curriculum that is part of the International Baccalaureate program known around the world for high school), and I know about Kuwaiti ministry censorship laws, rules, and how copyright is a loose term in this country. I know all of this stuff now. But I don't know what I'm going to do with the kids next week. We hired a trial nanny and the kids would run from her. I don't know how I'm going to run my classroom because I haven't had a minute to work on it. And I don't know why the heck I'm taking time away from being in my classroom to go on this stupid "go-see" at Al Cornich Club and Spa because there's no way we can afford it!

A few teachers belong to this club because it's close to the school apartments, is lovely, and has all the amenities one could want in a desert country. One such staff member worked out a deal that we could take a spinning class, go on a tour of the facility, and then have free run of the place for 4 hours as we considered joining the club. Well... Rob, the kids, and I got there and we were hooked--the pool is amazing, the facilities are top notch, and the club owns 300 meters of pristine (and private) Kuwaiti beach line (which means... you have 300 meters to wear western bathing suits on the beach--woo hoo! ladies). The kids took to the water like only little fish can and I knew that the terrible time was coming that we had to decline to enroll and hide our heads as we left the Corniche in sadness because lovely is just so out of our price range right now. And so came money time...

The club manager sat down with the visiting teachers and began on the deal. And how Xavier, though only a week before his 5th birthday would fall under the loophole that would make him a free member for a year. After much him-hawing back and forth, Rob gave us the all clear.

So now, we are the newest members of Al Corniche--an exclusive haven where you are not allowed to talk shop. Where, instead, you must only spend time working out at the gym, basking in the sun, floating in the water, or looking over the Gulf.

We have found an oasis here in Kuwait and it's called: "Al Corniche!"