Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

they speak Turkish!

For at least 12 of the last 14 years, it has been our intention to spend most of the time we have in North Cyprus. We are now 2weeks away from that reality, exactly; but getting there has been a novel's worth of stress and tension, I can tell you!

The truth is that living and working abroad is a double edged sword. The life of an expat in the UAE is one of privilege; even as my husband and I have lived it. Many of our colleagues and acquaintances from the West, spend most weekends away from their place of work. They frequent luxury hotels and enjoy the nightlife of the big cities. They may still be within the confines of the Emirates or they may have gone further astray. However, wherever they wonder, there is no getting away from the luxury demanded and received throughout the hospitality industry. With beautiful and beguiling places and sights to see, and amazing experiences to be had, we Western expats living in the UAE have certainly been spoilt for choice when it comes to down time!

Tom and I have much preferred to live the quiet life through the weekends and holidays. I actually hate the Malls which are the frequent daily respite of those who live in or vacation in the big cities. Yet, Abu Dhabi and Dubai could make a shopper of anyone, even a shoppa-phobe like myself: having been known for the mantra: 'I'd rather clean my cooker than shop,' still on a recent visit to Al Ain, I found myself examining a set of ceramic pans that looked and felt inviting and I also found myself perusing the jewellery shops. All this from a woman who had, at the time, 3 fully kitted out kitchens, one in the UK, one in Cyprus and the other in Al Mirfa! Furthermore, I have never been a great one for jewellery, preferring to wear ear studs on special occasions; my wedding ring, because not to means: '... you are not married anymore, Mum'; and finally a very petite, very plain but much liked watch!
We have been in the habit of spending our weekends by the local pool, or in the sea and rounding off the visit with a self prepared picnic. Even this, though, is luxury when you are not used to the kind of weather to facilitate the habit. I do love the outdoor life that is on offer here, while the occasional stay-cation  in one of the many sumptuous hotels in one Emirate or another definitely defines privilege in my lexicon.
While I have been here, six very happy and fleeting years, the way I have been pampered by service staff has been greatly appreciated. The Filipino workers here, really know how to make a client feel special. Throughout the six years, I have had a British trained Filipina hairdresser. A visit to see Alexa always made me feel special and well presented. While at the salon, I was  the beautician, who would keep the brows and nails looking tiptop! I should give a shout, too, to the lady who shampooed me. She developed the habit of giving me a lovely head massage. She had magic hands, making that, for me, the best part of the visit.
These things taken altogether have meant that my life over the last six years has been a darn sight more than pleasant; it's been idyllic.
So what then has been the flip-side? 
Sometimes, often actually, it was the way that people have been treated on the basis of their nationality. Often, depressingly frequently really, it was the whimsical decisions and changes that have made doing my job almost impossible. It has been the need to work around minor bureaucrats who have done their best to prevent the new ideas and methods that the Western Expats had been brought over to action.
So it is with some relief and excitement I will finally be able to give up teaching and go off over the rainbow to sample that quiet life of contentment in Cyprus.

Are we there yet?

I haven't blogged in such a long time! I love playing about with words; I love arranging them on the page to make them convey the meaning that I want them to convey; I like using other people's words and phrases to mirror my own thoughts; but I am not at all constant. I guess that it's bad to be inconstant. It's the Gemini in me I suppose. I can be distracted very easily. I get engrossed in things very quickly, then I find that my normal routine slips.
In fact, I have never had a normal routine, routine is something that has been hard won through work.-I teach and routine is a teacher's life blood! However, the big R is looming. Just four weeks away, as a matter of fact. Four weeks from tomorrow I will no longer teach. What will that be about?

So the plan is to blog, travel, take up my musical life again, become a foodie, chill, travel, chill, maybe learn a language and blog some more! Oh and read and knit...I think I'm going to need a routine!

In four weeks, I will swap my Gulf-side, desert existence for a mountainside, maritime retreat! I will move to Cyprus where we have a little place by the sea. Hopefully it will be a base only, 'cos people, I am planning to travel. Before that little indulgence though, I must bring my teacher existence to a close. Four weeks. So much to do-finish marking and putting my current students' profiles together, pack up six years of my life and move on. So little time to do it all in. I suspect it will be the shortest of times; I suspect it will be the longest of times; I suspect that I will be loath to let go; I suspect that I will be impatient to get going! It will be bitter sweet, but I am tired and I am excited for the future and I cannot wait to get started.

Apropos of that, I have a long weekend to look forward to. I can dip my toe in the sea of retirement. For the next four days I can linger over the task of getting up, getting dressed and having breakfast. I can set my own schedule for the day and then can depart from it as and when I like. I can do culture, but only if the Abu Dhabi Louvre is fairly quiet this weekend. I can support my other half as he watches the footie. (Oh noooooooooo! It's World Cup time.) I can be late, I can be early, dress up or dress down as the fancy takes me.
Thank the Lord in heaven, we are, most certainly, nearly there!

Ticket to ride

My time here in the five star hotel, Beach Rotana, is fast drawing to a close. I've had a wonderful stay, especially as the staff have treated us like royalty. However, there is such a thing as too much of a good number and I'm really eager to meet my new colleagues and students, start work and move into my new apartment. I think I will like life in this country.
Before I came, I decided I would be better off if I were to 'go native' and wear an abaya; but my confidence in my own judgement was rocked when a workmate of Tom's said not to because people would think I was being disrespectful. So I was pleased to learn that not only do the people here rejoice when someone like me adopts their way of dressing, but my head teacher will probably insist that I wear one. A thousand blessings on the principal who does. Such a direction does a lot for me: it will boost my confidence about appearing in one; solve the problem of what to wear at work and probably put me in the position of gaining acceptance more easily than if I had not.
In any case, I'm a 70s chick. Way back in the day, the 'maxi-skirt' was all the rage. I had trouble getting mum and dad to let  me wear one, but I've always loved the fashion. Honestly, people from non-abaya wearing countries need to see some of them. They are absolutely gorgeous and so feminine. The other day I went into a shop to enquire about a very plain abaya in the window which I'd really fallen for. Some time in the shop, showed me that they also stocked the most beautiful 'cheilas'-sorry not sure about the spelling so have done it phonetically. A cheila is a scarf. These ones were embroidered with the most wonderful and colorful paterns. I definitely am going native.-Sorry Tom but I did warn you before I left.
If that isn't enough, there are many sari shops and the outfits on sale in them are wonderous to behold. My wardrobe while out here will definitely not be western in any shape or form. I think I'm in love!

A Whole New World!

Well, I've really been and gone and done it this time! It's just under two weeks since I hit the road and followed the trail into the desert. Wow; it was a complete revelation. The first port of call was the Tilal Liwa Hotel on the edge of the Empty Quarter. If you want a romantic hidaway in the middle of nowhere, this should be your destination. Its is jaw dropping! There is an infinity pool looking out onto the open desert, which stretches away, as far as the eye can see. There are camels galore, sporting various different liveries. They truely hold sway over the rest of the desert inhabitants. If you're travelling the road between the hotel and the nearest city, Madinat Zayed, you'd best be prepared to give way to them when you meet up.
Very un-nerving is the sensation experienced when, sitting outside in the dark hours of the very early morning, ready to witness the sunrise and knowing that there is nothing for hundreds of miles in front of you but sand, only for you to hear the drone of a vehicle aproaching. It could well be a Land Rover-type cruiser, making its solitary way across the deserted expanse. The question being, how the hell do people navigate out here in a place where every thing looks the same? GPS, I hear you shout...the thing is, I have been warned that it doesn't work too well without landmarks. Not sure whether I'm reassured by the fact that ther are some places in which nature still holds sway, or whether to be scared out of my wits.

Shortly after landing in this 'whole new world', I was taken by bus, to the place I would be working in... a small town, Al Mirfa, on the gulf coast about an hour and a half, driving fast, from Madinat Zayed, MZ for short. The air and the light here have a different quality and from the main road it does look as if the sand stretches right to the end of the sea. It's a clean looking place, but with the houses and other buildings which face the front, here and there, showing the usual signs of beach front existence-a little rust and discolouration.
There are a number of schools. I have seen all but one; I have been in two. They all look to me, to be new. The rulers of the UAE have and are investing a lot of money into the education of their people. My school is called Al Shamokh. It is a very spacious and new building, close to the sea front.
I had read on the English Media  Teacher page on FB, that I could expect poorly behaved students and a management team that was likely to be hostile. What I was faced with, on my first visit, was three ladies at or around my age, one was the Principal. She did not appear to speak much English, but she was very interested to know about my past experiences and asked a number of questions through the other two. The other two ladies, I was to learn, were a Vice Pricipal, who previously had been Head of the Cycle Two-Key Stage Two, to you and me- and the lady in charge of Arts. I'm not clear yet whether this corresponds to our Arts or is something with a different slant. It appeared obvious to me that all three ladies were very experienced and knowledgeable.
The Principal is very traditional and insists that all staff wear abayas and a shiela or scarf to cover the head and hair. She is also, I am told an Islamic Scholar. From what I can remember, designation of this kind is not easily earned, so I take it that she is very learned! I think, from what I've witnessed so far, that she also has a clear vision of where she wants to go. She was  very gracious and certainly welcoming. Businesslike too, she was adamant that she needed my paperwork before I left the office! Good thing I had had the presence of mind to take it with me.
The Vice Principal is a deminuitive lady with a vey strong sense of humour. She was intrigued to learn of my age and experience. As I am new, she informed me, they will give me less than my maximum number of lessons, which is thirty. She then added that next year because I will be fifty-six, she might well expect me to teach that number of lessons a week! After that, she laughed. I liked this lady right away. I think she will be tough and have very high expectations, but I also think she will be fair and very understanding if needed.
The third lady, who has an office in the Cycle Three English block, is more outgoing than the others. I think that she will be tough too. She definitely has the air of someone who is good at the job, but she is very welcoming and friendly. So there, all you FB cynics! The Western Region is not brimming with Emerati Educators, who want to see the back of us. Almost all of the people I am with right now, have told me that they have had positive experiences in their new schools. I can well understand that the Emerati teachers, teaching English in these school would feel threatened by the EMTs. Afterall, they can never offer what we can - natively spoken English - be they ever so hardworking. But then, they do have their advantages, they can speak to the girls in Arabic, to explain points.
Now to talk about the English team in my school: What can I say, they are a very strong team. They work closely together and they have looked after me so well this week. Its a real priveledge to join them and I only hope that I can do them justice. I have a dream ticket!
As for my students, I've spent a week with them; three classes of girls. Two Year Tens and one Year Seven. God help me, I already feel very attached. They are very loveable girls; I never taught better!

So given that I've labelled my new position, a ' dream ticket', have I been content with my lot in the past two weeks? Not on your life. Never before have I experienced a culture shock of the intensity that I've been wading through in the past fortnight. It's the little things which threaten to brake you: The internet connection, in the hotel in the desert was very iffy. In any one skype conversation, Tom and I could be cut off numerous times, every three to five minutes. On the first Thursday here, after having visited school again and then attending a special meeting, I returned to find that I had managed to leave my computer recharger on my desk back in Al Shamookh. I had one hour remaining of the charge. The internet connection that night, was especially poor. Tom and I were being cut of every one to three minutes. Then we had to wait to be reconnected, tipically longer than we managed to speak! All too soon, the battery died and without charger I couldn't talk to Tom any more. This was upsetting because I knew that school was closed for the weekend and that I was moving out the next day. No more internet for the indefinite future. Etisalat reps were turning internet service applications unless they saw an original passport.-ADEC, (Abu Dhabi Education Council) had those and had been very vague about when we could expect them back. Then almost to rub mynose in it, my phone, which was slowly dying on me, refused to send a text to tell Tom that although I was upset, I would be alright. I decided not to scream but to go to bed. Sure enough, next day I had ideas. Blow it! I would buy a spare charger when I went into AD to shop that day. Hang the cost. No sooner had I done this, than I felt much better. Sure enough, I was able to hook up the laptop and squeeze one more conversation out of my internet access at Tilal Liwa. I was almost a happy bunny.
However, following this, I felt as if I was in a living nightmare: although I managed to persuade Etisalat that I should have internet without the benefit showing them my original passport complete with original residency stamp, the technician who installed it mistyped and then wrote my username down incorrectly, so even though I had a connection, I couldn't get on line. Neither could numerous reps trace the fault, it was so ramdom! My phone died on me and refused to restart. The replacement displayed all information in Arabic and since I couldn't read the screen I couldn't find the command to switch to English!
Now don't get me wrong, I have to confess to a secret liking for my abayas. The girls look so graceful in them. Its true, when I also wear the sheila, I feel like one of the nuns from back in my school days, but some of these gowns are really beautifully decorated and they are very very femanine! Nevertheless, you try going up or down a flight of stairs in an abaya, with your scarf slipping off your head and balancing heavy laptop bag, lunch bag, hand bag, and an armful of papers. It's a tall order. And another thing...you know that annoying feeling, when you have a nice top or dress and you slop you tea, coffee or soup on it? Especially when yu're out and cannot change it? Well all I can say is never drip milk down the front of your black abaya and then try to mop up with a tissue!

Highway to the danger zone...

Good Morning fellow bloggers and blogees,
That's it. I've done now and I want to go home to Tom and my family! Yesterday was the first unchaperoned visit to Madinat Zayed, which, inshallah, is to be my home for the next two years at least. It was a gruelling day getting used to travelling on the highways here and making our first contacts in a very islolated place. I'm very, very, very glad I got to experience it with five other new teachers. That is a source of comfort this morning.
The desert is so pretty and yesterday, I didn't notice the strong smell of oil that hit me on our first visit. My apartment looked just a good yesterday as it had on the first inspection. However, talking to one disaffected teacher and then being asked way over the top prices for goods in various emporia, took its toll and I ended up the visit feeling totally out of my comfort zone. I began to feel out of my depth and swamped by the Emerati culture.
Later,Tom reminded me that I need to employ my sense of humour when I feel that a trader is trying to capitalise on my lack of local knowledge by grossly overpricing his wares: Come on guys, 400 dir. for a simple abaya? DO I have the word GREEN tattooed on my forehead? It was black actually and it was very nice but, the material was not such good quality and it was way too long!
Bless me Abu Dhabians, for I have sinned: I said this place was far too expensive but in fact it's cheaper here than it is in the Styx.- I also priced up a Nikon Cool Pix camera. I had bought one the day before from a shop in Marina Mall, Abu Dhabi. I had been charged 399dir. Admittedly it was on sale. When I priced up a much lesser model of the same make camera in MZ, I found that they wanted 1,070+ dir. I'm trying not to come to the conclusion that the good people of MZ are in the habit of exploiting the incoming teachers every year. The guy in the first abaya shop said later that his prices were up for negotiation and that he would give the ADEC teachers a good deal. Too late Abaya guy, you know what? I won't visit your shop, or even that mall again.
In fairness to the traders of MZ, I visited a second abaya shop in the city market area just after. The gentleman there was much nicer than the first man and his prices were moderate: 150 dir for a similar garment. I'd still want to negotiate, but just in the same way that I wouldn't think of starting from obviously too stingy a price for decent goods, he chose a fair starting price from his point of view.
Coming home, for the first time since I arrived here two whole weeks ago now, I felt swamped and homesick to such a degree that, just for a short while, I wanted to go home.
On the way back to the hotel, I watched the sunset in the desert. It was lovely but I would have liked it even more had I been watching it with Tom. (Its a date: Desert, Tom, Chris, Johnny Cash music and the stars. Even better with some chilled wine and insect repellent.)

Then on entering the big city once more, the world slotted back into place and I watched with awe, as we drove past the beautiful buildings here, all lit up for the evenings viewers. Note to self: I need to come back in the cooler weather to walk about and take pictures and that way, all my family and friends can see Abu Dhabi at night. A truly breathtaking experience folks!

                                                            

Another Day in Paradise...

It's been a while since I posted and a lot has changed for me. I spent July in Cyprus, where they are currently enjoying record temperatures. It is well into the 40s there. Now we normally spend the whole of summer over there, but we arrived a little earlier this year and left a whole month early because I was due to start work in the UAE in August. Well it's now August and here I sit in Abu Dhabi. What a charmed existence this is...
I'm currently housed in a 5* hotel at the government's expense. Thank you, ADEC people!
It's surreal. I knew that they would put me into an hotel until my normal accommodation was ready for me, but whatever I expected, I didn't expect this: My room is lovely. I have a waterside view, with a really imposing city skyline as the back drop and even a little balcony of my own! The staff cater to our every need and, although I'm being paid, there has been very little in the way of demands on my time. I currently have a whole week off duty, as its about to be EId and a national holiday. Out of the last 7 days, I have been expected to give over my time to ADEC business for just three of them. On one of those days, they ferried us out to the city where I, along with about a dozen other people, will live: Madinat Zayed.
They apartment that they had selected for me is unfurnished and very new. It's also rather spacious and very lovely. They will give me enough money to deck it out comfortably. Their only demand for this is that during the term of the contract I continue to live there.
Madinat Zayed appears to be a small city and quite unspectacular. However, everything required to deliver a comfortable lifestyle is to be found there and I'm sure that I'll be more than content on a day to day basis.
If there was to be a 'fly in the ointment' it would be that it was desert-locked and no sea in site. However, as if anticipating my personal preferences, I was told that my school is actually 70 kilometres further on, at a place called Mirfa which is situated on the Gulf coast. Result! The best of both worlds and they will pay me an extra allowance to compensate for the travel involved. Not only that, but the gentleman in charge of the initiative, Mr. Alqadi, appears to have a very realistic idea about the kind of students we will be teaching.
Note to self: this job pays well and the conditions attached are more than generous, so I will need to expect the work to be tough, but in order to repay the generousity of my employers, in fairness, I should be able to get on with it with a big smile on my face!
 On first impressions,this place is very close to paradise!

            

         

There are places I remember, all my life though some have changed...

The weather is quite somber today and I'm in a meloncholy mood. When I switch on my old PC, the screen save is an old portrait of my Mum and Dad on their wedding day. It's the only picture that remains of that event and has been lovingly cherished by Mum for many years. Shortly after my third daughter was born, I stole that picture! I had the best of intentions, as I wanted to give mum a special present for that christmas and so I took it to an expert restorer, who copied the original, enlarged it and framed it beautifully for me. I then carefully packaged up both the original and the framed photo and duly presented it to her a couple of months later. During the intervening months, Mum missed the photo and fretted about it. I was undecided whether to wait for christmas or to confess. Suffice it to say that I made her suffer!



On Christmas Eve of that year, I rang Mum, knowing that she'd be in the house on her own. I asked her to open the present early and said that she needed to be alone to do that. I knew what would happen of course: She had a good old weep over the present and I felt that that was something she should be allowed to do in private. She did of course and, from then on, the photo frame has had pride of place over her mantlepiece. The memory is bitter sweet. Sad because Dad isn't here to see what happened to his treasured family, sweet because I know what a happy partnership it was and because I know that the present gave mum great pleasure. I love looking at it too. They both look so young. I wonder if they would have changed their minds about some things if only they knew what would be in store for them?
I suppose I'm in contemplative mood this morning due to the fact that I took the weighty decision to retire from UK teaching altogether, at its beginning. Sounds dramatic and in truth it was a big decision to make, but only financially because I will teach abroad for the forseeable future, but I doubt very much whether I will ever take a class of students in this green and pleasant land again. Of course, Sean Connery, my old and very yummy friend, would advise to 'never say never...' but that's all very well for him to say. He was in a very different situation altogether! ( Sorry is this unbelievably cheesy? I'm wondering whether by now, my faithful followers have noticed my very own gimmick for naming posts and even the actual title of the blog? Well you need to have a formula for these things.)
This week has been a week for seeing friends before I leave again. For looking back at photos and remembering and above all, for looking at Tom and myself and wondering where the years have gone. I was reminded of this old Beatle's song by my sister, who used it to preface the photo of Mum and Dad. It makes me more than meloncholy, it makes me shed a tear and it makes me remeber to enjoy what life brings today while trying not to worry too much about the future.