How many does it take? (6/31)

6 of 31 - SOLSC 2019

"Kristi knows where you are going," the head of facilities tells the driver, as I join the other teachers. 

I don't, actually, but Google Maps does. I open the app, type in the name of the school hosting the PD event, press 'start', and hand the phone to one of the gentlemen at the front of the bus.

We don't have just one bus driver, rather three. One is driving us there now. The other two are along for the ride to see where they need to pick teachers up at the end of the day. 

Before relinquishing my phone, which is what the feeling turns into as I realize that the small bit of work I had planned to do on the 17 minutes Google Maps had predicted for our route, won't be happening.

We teachers chat about this and that as we wind our way through Dammam. Turning back towards the front of the bus I notice that instead of following the directions Google is giving, the three of them are in a heated discussion - passing my phone around; zooming in and out on the screen.

This is when I wondered, "How many male drivers does it take to follow the directions they have in front of them?!"

Arduous

29 of 31 - SOLSC 2018

The Slice of Life March Challenge is hosted by Two Writing Teachers and part of the Slice of Life Story Challenge that takes place each Tuesday throughout the year and everyday in March. It is a supportive (and awesome!) community of those trying their hand at writing and encouraging others in their writing. Join us!

It really isn't as much about the flight itself, though I would give that up for three clicks of my heals as an alternative. The arduous part is really everything else. (And I'm not even talking about the planing, prep, and packing!)

Once we are ready to head out the door we have to get to the airport. That comes after working a full day at school followed by a drive of more than 300 km. We then have to park the truck and get a taxi to the airport, since there aren't any long term parking options in Jeddah.

Line to get into the airport.

Line to get to the check in counters.

Line at the counters to drop bags.

Line to get to immigration.

Line at immigration.

Line to check we've been through immigration.

Line at security. (Women this way - gents, that way!)

Line to get a snack: Tim Horton's bagel!

Find a place to hang out while we wait.

Line at boarding counter.

Line at passport check.

Line to get on the bus.

Line up the stairs to board the plane.

Line down the aisle to our seats.

Next stop, the "Greatest City In The World!" 

#werk

Pool Season Has Begun

24 of 31 - SOLSC 2018

The Slice of Life March Challenge is hosted by Two Writing Teachers and part of the Slice of Life Story Challenge that takes place each Tuesday throughout the year and everyday in March. It is a supportive (and awesome!) community of those trying their hand at writing and encouraging others in their writing. Join us!

With the official arrival of Spring the humidity kicked way up for a day or two, thus warming up our pools enough that even the adults are willing to brave the water. So, pool season is upon us!

(Yes, the irony of us spending the first days of spring back in the pool while friends and family from Seattle to New Jersey are watching it snow has been noted.)

Any combination of six kids, ranging from 12 months to eight years, dragging an assortment of pool toys descend upon one of our pools. (There are three, each referred to by the kid that lives closest to it.) 

Adults, a compilation friends, (who are stand in aunties for our TCKs), and parents complete the scene. We talk with one another, keep track of kids, monitor our personal temperature needs with a combination of in the pool, out of the pool, on the edge with legs in the pool, on a chair in the share, or a lounger in the sun.

All of this is the best way to make the moments between afternoon and dinner melt into the past. An hour or two later we are announcing to the troop, "Ten more minutes!"

Cleaning

12 of 31 - SOLSC 2018

The Slice of Life March Challenge is hosted by Two Writing Teachers and part of the Slice of Life Story Challenge that takes place each Tuesday throughout the year and everyday in March. It is a supportive (and awesome!) community of those trying their hand at writing and encouraging others in their writing. Join us!

"And make sure your room gets cleaned up - it's Monday."

"Why does your mom need your room cleaned up on a Monday?" I ask.

"Tuesday is when we have someone come to clean the house," my friend replies.

I think I kept my jaw closed, but inside I was a whirl of questions. Someone else cleans your house? You have to clean up your room to have your house cleaned? Isn't that redundant? Someone else cleans your house?!

That conversation, in high school, opened my eyes to a world that I had no idea existed. When I was in college I actually took a job cleaning someone's house twice a month to make some money toward a financial goal I had set.

Also in college I had a friend who cleaned someone's house. What struck me about those conversations was the fact that they were required to vacuum so ALL of the vacuum lines ran parallel. What?! I can understand in large, open parts of a room, but how do you even do that with furniture everywhere? And, there couldn't be any footprints when they were finished.

When we moved overseas hiring someone as a 'helper' was part of the culture, the norm for expats. We balked at the idea. We were scraping pennies together at that point in our lives; luxuries included paying for haircuts and going to the movies. We didn't do either. 

After a couple of paychecks we realized that we could incorporate a helper into our budget and hired someone to come in once a week for four hours. She mopped all of the dust off our marble floors, cleaned the bathrooms, and made us a meal. We thought we were in heaven.

The following year we realized we could afford to have her come twice a week. The next year we added yet another day. The main thing was the dust. Living in Amman, where no one has air conditioning, you open your windows to cool off the house. Every evening as the sun goes down, about 7 p.m., a lovely breeze would start. It was fantastic for bringing down the temperature, but horrible when it came to dust. (Even with the windows closed, our windows were single pane, and only mostly kept some of the dust out.) You could have dusted and mopped twice a day and still have had a dusty home. Nevertheless, we loved our time in Jordan and appreciated having Anual working for us.

Our fantastic experience with a helper hasn't meant that we have always had help overseas. At times, due to circumstances within a country, part-time household help isn't available. Thankfully our first transition back to doing it ourselves was with in a home with wall-to-wall carpeting. Upon the next move we had both taken pay cuts to live somewhere amazing. Our second year there we decided to pay for piano lessons for our daughter and clean the house ourselves.

We are back to having a helper once a week. And I am now saying to my daughter, "Make sure your room gets cleaned up - it's Monday."

Reflections on Daylight Savings Time

11 of 31 - SOLSC 2018

The Slice of Life March Challenge is hosted by Two Writing Teachers and part of the Slice of Life Story Challenge that takes place each Tuesday throughout the year and everyday in March. It is a supportive (and awesome!) community of those trying their hand at writing and encouraging others in their writing. Join us!

There are many reasons that one might have varying opinions regarding Daylight Savings Time. 

How far north or south you live impacts your thoughts. The closer to the equator you life the more consistent the length of your days is, therefore the change does not have the same impact it does for those who live closer to the poles. So is it a surprise that Hawaii, the state closest to the equator, last changed in 1945 - long before they were a state? (Florida is legislating a change to Standard Time, though there are legal challenges.)

If you have ever lived somewhere that doesn't change the clock on two random days per year, your opinion will change. Once you realize that life does go on without the major interruption imposed by humans, you may just find the lack of change refreshing.

What you believe to be the origins and reason for the practice impact one's thoughts. I know that reading this New York Times article challenged what I had believed for multiple decades. Had you been told it had to do with farming? I sure had.

Then there are the years we have lived in places that could have three different dates to change their clocks - all within the span of one weekend - for bordering countries. (Managing public transport was the biggest challenge to navigating that one!)

Currently the greatest change impacting my life is how I play "Time Zone Bingo". I have regular meetings across the globe. As we enter the season of time changes I have to double and triple check when each place does or doesn't change their clocks.

And finally, as I sat down to write this, I realized that I had never noticed that light takes hold over darkness during Lent, when we are preparing for Light to overcome.

Cycle of Life - Overseas Version (And a Parenting Lesson)

When you live overseas the comings and goings of people around you is part of the ebb and flow of life. This can happen at any point throughout the year, however the end of the calendar year and the end of the school year are the two most prevalent times for good-byes. 

So, after 14 years outside our home country we have become accustomed to these seasons of good-bye. Generally we have months between the news of someone leaving and the reality of the last known day together, but not always. In the last week we've been hit with two surprises that hit very close to home (as well as several more in the past two weeks in our wider circles).

While I came to know about these two instances several days apart, they became public knowledge on the same day. This alignment of stars meant that I was breaking tear inducing news to my daughter TWICE in one day.

My daughter is a natural crier. Her eyes overflow when she is filled with emotion. Her eyes leak at a satisfying end to a story, be it happy for sad. Tears are a common part of how she experiences emotions. Sometimes the tears turn to sobs and take several moments before she can continue. She and I both know this. I have to proceed with caution.

At the end of a school day the email went out to all staff that a teacher was moving - next week. Since my daughter usually stops by my room at the end of her day I wanted to make sure I was the one to break the news to her, rather than have her over hear it somewhere.

"I have something to tell you, and it might make you cry."

Her eyes got wide as she settled into my arms. "What is it?"

"Mr. [favorite teacher that she desperately hopes to have one day] is moving."

She trusts herself around my neck and holds on tight. Eventually she slowly pulls back and asks, "To where?"

At this point I am surprised that, while there is shock and sadness written all over her face, there aren't any actual tears.

***Four hours later***

"I am some more news that might make you cry."

I will spare you the details of the story. (It was absolutely precious, but this news still isn't widely known and while it isn't a secret, I sure don't want to be the one to spill the beans!) What I will tell you is this; there weren't any tears!

Reflecting upon these two incidents I am now wondering if by simply prefacing potentially devastating news with "you might cry" allows her to be prepared enough for the emotion that she can steal herself to the extremity of her feelings. Or, it could just be that she's now eight. One thing I do know, we live overseas, and there will be more opportunities to test my new delivery method.

Three Degrees of Separation

I head to bed with a happy heart tonight. This past Sunday was Eastern Orthodox Easter so many international schools around the region are on Spring Break. As a result there are several folks we know vacationing here in Beirut.

With our crazy schedule and having a short week after returning from our own Spring Break I wasn’t sure how it was going to work to get to see everyone. The short version is that everyone ended up at our home!

They say there are seven degrees of separation amongst everyone in the world. Within international schools that is much smaller. One couple we had worked with in Amman. They are from Minnesota and now that their kids are in college they are back overseas (in Amman, but at a different school). The other three ladies we worked with in Jeddah. None of them are still there. In fact none of them live in the same place. One is Lebanese and has moved home. One is American and is now in Doha. One is Indian and is now in Dubai. These two groupings met for the first time tonight and the world just got smaller.

It was a wonderful evening of catching up on families, talking about schools, discussing the current state and future of education, chatting about vacation spots, and generally enjoying one another’s company.

Trying To Prove I Don’t Belong

I have been trying to get my head around how I feel about proving that I am not a resident of the U.S.

Yes, we have lived overseas ten of the past eleven years. (Both of those numbers bump up one in a few months). Yes, my tax returns prove that I do not live and work in the U.S. Yet having to prove that I am not a resident has set off a discord within me.

Our bank here is having to comply with the FACTA (as banks are the world over). For us our account is simply a transfer point as our employer requires us to have one in order to be paid. We then wire it all home to our U.S. account, minus what we need for groceries. Obviously we aren’t stashing money away ‘off shore’. Never the less, we have gotten form after form from our bank, which I shoved in a drawer not wanting to deal with.

I finally sat down to get it all figured out. I won’t bore you with the details (and discrepancies). I knew the things they are looking for don’t apply to us, but was still unsettled by having to tick the ‘not a resident of the U.S.’ box.

Why has this hit me? I’ve been wondering and don’t have a firm answer. These are things I know to be true.

I am an American citizen.
I own a home in the U.S.
Taxes are paid on said home.
I vote.
I sing the “Star Spangled Banner” anywhere in the world I hear it, even if I am the only one.
I get teary eyed when I hear tunes like, “I’m Proud To Be An American”.
I LOVE having an immigration officer welcome me ‘home’ when I return to U.S. soil, (which will happen on Saturday!)