This week's realizations...

First this week our librarian gave a PD on how to teach young children to read. Nothing she talked about was new information but it was nice to have it come from an Arabic staff member. I know that because they've taught with each other for so many years the same information I or any other new staff member gives is looked at slightly askew but from her it was fact. No problem. The best part of this very fun, honestly it was a blast, presentation was when I remarked on how great the information was and she wispered to me "My husband did it" lol. I can't tell you how many times I hear this from the ladies. Well it got me thinking about the reputation Arabic men have in the west. They really have bad rep. Yes I'm very sure there are some absolute monsters out there but in talking to more Arabic ladies they love their men. From the stories they share their husbands are very supportive and caring. They call them in the middle of the day when they're in need of something and immediately receive the help they need. These men truly seem to balance their wives. Yes there are gender roles that I frankly don't get but I find that in the US too. No their marriages are not perfect 'cause I've also been the sounding board when they have problems with their husbands. Yet overall they seem very happy with their situations. Maybe these woman are just very lucky but I have a feeling their husbands may just be the rule and those that we hear of are the exception...I could be wrong but I don't think so.

My other realization this week is how much control I, and those who are from similar societies as mine, have over our lives. Growing up in the US, with our "pull yourself up by your bootstarps", "be the change you want to see" and "just do it" mentality, there are things here that I just cannot process. The lack of control some have over their lives just breaks my heart. This was brought into sharp focus yesterday. I had to travel to Sila'a, a town about 20min from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, for a meeting. When we arrived we were given a tour of the school and as we walked around I saw one of the former cleaners at my school. I called her name, she turned to come to me but hadn't seen me yet. When she saw it was me she hugged/held onto me and broke down crying. Her tears last a good while and made me so sad. She asked me if I was going back to Ruwais but she honestly seemed to be asking if I would take her with me. I don't know why she was removed from our school, people just are removed at random and usually for no good reason, but it was clear she was so unhappy with her present situation. From chatting with other English teachers around the Emarite, the way we at Al Jinan treat our staff is very different  from most schools. My school functions, even with all our mess, as a family. When we have a staff breakfast, everyone from the principal to the cleaners to the security guards are included. When we have staff appriciation days EVERYONE receives a gift and small speech from the principal about how they contribute to the school community. We encourage our students to treat ALL the adults with respect. I don't know what is happening where she is but I really did wish I could take her back home to Al Jinan. I know one thing, I'll be chatting with the other cleaners on Sunday to see what's happening. Afterall 80% of us here in this country are expats and in my opinion we've got to look out for each other as so many of us here are without family and close friends. 

Soup's on

Yay! I made soup! All by myself and from scratch! The best part? It's edible. I'm so proud of me lol. To be honest I've been on a cooking kick lately. Mostly I've been baking though but I was inspired by the cold winds of today to attempt homemade chicken soup. It's all good but a bit on the salty side but when it's really hot you don't notice. Now I know what adjustment to make for the next batch. Go me!

The Battle

I hate to clean. I mean it. In fact I'm not sure if I've already written about this but it's happening again. I'm dreading the cleaning I have to do yet while I could very well call up Raquel to do the deed. The problem is my middle class midwestern upbringing won't let me. Ugh...

The Green Card

As any immigrant to the US knows, your green card is your ticket to freely living and working in the US without fear of the government with limited worry about USCIS. Well I've learned of a different green card over here. Yesterday I gave the sister of our school secretary a ride home from her college that's five minutes or so away from our school. Silly me, I thought it would be a matter of getting there, picking her up and driving back to Ghayathi...simple as pie. WRONG! lol I think I get accustomed to things, slip into my western way of thinking and forget where I am sometimes. Honestly the fully veiled women no longer hold any wonder and I can figure out who's under each veil. I've adjusted to Arabic time where 5 minutes really means one hours. their penchant for over staged productions only slightly fill me with a mix of amazement and distaste. I've learned the flexibility of their truth...what I perceive as a lie is simply a way of not being rude/causing an uncomfortable situation. But the green card incident shocked me back to reality.

As we pulled up to the school her sister called her to come out. She walked out of the building and was immediately greeted by a security officier who escorted her back inside. Well after calls back and forth it turns out that she did not have her green card processed yet. What is this magical green card you ask... My people it's a card that says she has permission to leave the school premises. This card allows her to go for walks around the community and be picked up by whomever. Sounds great...if she were in high school, away at boarding school but this is a married woman with children. Who gave her this permission??? Her husband had to sign. Her sister went on to explain that your husband, father, brother...whatever man is in charge of you can sign for it. My brain started to hurt a bit. As a result of her unprocessed green card I had to give the security guard my license so they could record who she was leaving with. It was a big ordeal, as most everything here is and it brought me back to where I am.

Once we finally got going though it was a most pleasant trip home. Listening and participating in their conversation made me miss my own sister dearly. They are really very funny and now I've been told to come over on the weekends so we can hang out and have a language exchange. I think I'll take them up on their offer.

Trust...

I am having an issue of trust. Someone is lying but I'm not quite sure who. The sad thing is this lying is occurring over an event that does not require ANY drama whatsoever. The hermit in me wants to just close off all unnecessary contact...however, I know that what I do affects not only me but also my English teachers. It seems a very difficult task to ask they be judged on their own merit rather than being painted with the same brush as me. It is with this in mind that I will negotiate borders that allow me to remain true to myself-I'm an authentic person and don't know how to fake it with anyone- and preserve the good name of my English teachers. Leadership is rough...just a bad patch and a great lesson in cross-cultural politics. Thank God it's the weekend.