D - 17

30 June 2014. Seventeen days till I board a plane leaving the Middle East. Twenty days till I arrive happily and lazily on my living room sofa for an extended stay. Justice, Damari, Miniya and Zion are coming for a visit. They arrive 24 June 2014. We are stopping in Paris for a few days before returning to Chicago. 

Our itinerary includes two days in Fujairah, two days in Abu Dhabi, two days in Dubai, and four days in Paris. We are going to be so tired that I think we'll need a week to recover. 

Well, I have come to love my time in the UAE, and my time away from the USA. I am actually looking forward to returning in August to complete my two year contract. Work turned out to be fun at times; especially, with the help of some very nice colleagues. Fujairah, itself, has just the right pace for me. It is a small emirate with wonderful views of mountains and the Indian Ocean. Moreover, the distance between the mountains and the ocean is a mere 5 or 6 km, so you can enjoy both every day of the week. The more exciting and touristy Abu Dhabi and Dubai are close enough for frequent excursions. In fact, a colleague and I often took day trips to Dubai for shopping, sailing, or just dinner. 

I am completely adjusted to the school environment. Teenagers are the same the world over. Every students wants an "A" regardless of their skill level; and they want the high grade with as little effort on their part as is humanly and ethically possible. Wait, no, they are not the least bit concerned about ethics; that's my hangup.  On the other hand, the students were wonderfully warm in their interactions with me, incredibly fun, and very curious about my life in general and in America in particular. And, their affection could be purchased with a little chocolate. 

Anyway, I'm in countdown mode. 

They Don't Like Us in Chicago

I don't like teenagers. I cannot stand the utterly foolish and simple-minded way in which they think. I especially dislike their group think disguised as revelation of their generation. That said, I love my students. I have loved "all" of my students. That is to say, I like talking and laughing with them. There is still a tenderness and openness to their hearts that can make them (some of them) endearing.

As I am from the U.S., and Chicago in particular, my UAE students like to ask me about my home. Actually, they tell me about it. They tell me Chicago is dangerous, and all the Black people have guns and curse. They tell me Eminem is the best rapper (group think), and that Miley Cyrus and Justin Beiber are the best singers. There is a theme here.

A very common perception among my students is that Arabic people are not welcome in the U.S. The students have a natural curiosity about one of the wealthiest and most influential countries in the world. Many of them want to visit America. One student said that he would visit me in Chicago. I said I would love to have him come. He described how I would drive him around the city and show him the sites. I said that to do so would be fun and my great pleasure.

Several students were gathered around us witnessing our exchange. One student said something in Arabic to my perspective "guest". Naturally, I could sense that it was something sensitive and related to our discussion. I encouraged the student to tell me what he said, and assured him that I would not be upset. Another student interpreted what had been said, "Miss Karla, he said they don't like us in Chicago".

This is a very common sentiment. My UAE students are aware of the world perspective of Arab peoples. They know that caution is required when they travel westward. I thought that my students' parents probably teach their children these ideas for their own protection. This reminded me of how fathers and mothers of Black children (Black boys especially) have to school their children about the reality of being race/self-aware in this world.

I can't quite find the words to express the sorrow of this reality for my students. There was this weird sense that the normal idea of showing a visiting friend from a foreign country around my hometown was somehow a fantasy. The student and I just sort of escaped to this fantasy world for a few sentences in our discussion of his visit. As a few other students stood around "watching the show", I said to my potential guest that it wasn't true that Arab people are unwelcome in Chicago. After all, I said, I am from Chicago and I want you to come visit me there.

My sincere invitation was a sort of transition from the fantasy world to reality. In the fantasy world, my student had an open invitation to Chicago. In reality, he had a teacher/friend who wished that he could come.

It's weird to be so happy right now.

South Korea - Seoul

Well. I finally had my date in South Korea after a three year courtship. It all began with channel surfing. I  landed on a Chicago PBS station showing a  kdrama, "Alone in Love". I was surprised by the quality - performance and production. It was filmed (rather than staged), and the story was engaging, not corny. The acting and writing made me want to know what was going to happen to the characters. I did not know it was a serial drama until the end of the episode that I happened to see. I would haphazardly catch successive episodes. It was about a year before I finally found the entire series (and the final episode) on the Internet.

"Alone in Love" led to other dramas, including my favorite - "My Lovely Sam Soon" (you have to see it to appreciate it). This drama introduced two actors who are now favorites (Hyun Bin and Kim Sunah). The dramas led to variety shows (my favorite TV show - after Jeopardy! - is Running Man: can't explain it, you have to see it). In the midst of all this, I found kpop. G. Dragon, Big Bang, 2NE1, MBLAQ, Rain (YouTube him). There are other peoples who sing like us, but the kpop bunch dance like us as well. I was struck. The Michael Jackson, Usher, Amarion, Chris Brown, and Beyonce influences are stark. Still, many of the Korean groups are fun to watch. (I don't really like the girl groups - they are derivatives of each other). This affection lead me to want to teach in South Korea. Well, my new found affection combined with my growing loathing of the Chicago Public School system. I wanted to get out of the system so bad that I took a job in the Middle East (that's another post).

So, now I am here. Seoul, South Korea. Impressions: mountains - seems like the whole country is a chain of mountains; dense - there doesn't seem to be any unused space; apartment buildings - everywhere!; televisions and technology - both abound - you couldn't drive a km without seeing a TV screen atop a building broadcasting a commercial; Hangul - that is to say, I thought there would be more people speaking English (the UAE is like being in the US language-wise compared to Korea); 'streets of San Francisco" - the whole country is a mass of wending, winding, sloping streets. This last characteristic was one of my chief concerns about living in South Korea. Sloping sidewalks and snow/ice do not go well together. I spend my Chicago winters fearing falling on icy sidewalks - adding inclines to that fear would have been more than I could bear.

First day tour was great. I got to see (no, pass by) the Blue House (president house and headquarters). We went to the major Buddhist Temple, and an original royal residence (just outside of the Blue House). We had Korean barbecue (yeah!). Then, we went to a Korean historic village to tour and watch a farmer's dance show and a horse riding show. All fun.

Safari - Not!

Vania and I went on Safari. It was essentially a buffet dinner (on par with Old Country Buffet) in the desert. It was fun. We started with a sand dune ride in a SUV. Our driver was a teenager, definitely not more than twenty years old. The tour operator described the ride as similar to a rollercoaster. Not quite. But, it was thrilling in its own way. You definitely felt the low lunges into the sand.

The sand dune ride ended at the barbecue location where we (well, not me) immediately got in line for a camel ride. About a hundred people, four camels. I am not exaggerating when I say the climb aboard the camel's hump lasted longer than the actual ride. Don't laugh.

We entered the campsite to find a seat among rows of legless tables and pillows. The pillows were incredibly thick and remarkably comfortable. However, by the time dinner ended, Vania and I found our way to the one tent that had cushioned bench seating.

See the tent behind us. That is where we repaired to when the
low seating became too much for our knees. 

The food was essentially non-descript (Briyani chicken and rice, vegetables, labneh, salad, an orange and um ali for dessert) but sufficiently tasty. Labneh (a kind of cream cheese) and Um ali are the only Arabian foods I've had so far
(I'll tell you about the food in another post - suffice to say that there is a Pizza Hut, KFC and Krispy Kreme within view of my hotel/apartment window). Um ali is delicious. It is similar to bread-pudding. It tastes great as a hot dessert or a cold cereal for breakfast.

There was a floor show. Really, a floor, about 15ft x 15ft laid out in the center of the guest seating. It consisted of a lone belly dancer. She was quite good. But, there needed to be more dancers to make the performance truly entertaining. Tinesha and her fellow artists would have livened things up quite a bit.

Then, it was time to go home. The entire event was well-managed, efficient, and sufficient. There was nothing really safari-like about it. But, we had a good time.

The best part of the evening was the night sky. It was glorious. The clear dark night, the moon and stars were worth the cost and ride to the desert.    

Shorn

I have taken to wearing a head covering. No one, absolutely no one has required it of me. Also, no one at my school has in any way made me feel uncomfortable about my appearance. There was a period of adjustment for the students and the men. After all, I am one of only three females in my school building, and one of maybe ten women on the entire campus of two schools. All other teachers, administrators, custodian, security personnel, grounds keepers, clerks, managers, IT techs, and students are male. This represents approximately 450 men and boys.

Racially, I am fairly comfortable. Most are people of color. Of the teaching staff at my school, six hail from Africa (Uganda, Sudan, Camaroon, Ghana, Zimbabwe, and Somalia - two of these fellas are Brits), four from the Phillipines, two from India, an Egyptian, Jordanian (you remember him from earlier posts), Iranian, and an Arab. There are two men from England and an American. Fascinating isn't it?

Anyway, wherever I go, I get stares. Not because I am a foreigner or even

because I am a woman. Fujairah (and the UAE as a whole) is overrun with non-Emiratis. Most are from India and the Phillipines. Most, of course, are men because of the construction and labor work. However, there are many Filipino and other non-Emirati women. Google will tell you that most of the nations in the world are represented in the UAE. I think the primary reason for the gawking I get is because my hair is cut really low to the scalp.  And, it, well, it isn't straight.

It would seem that no people in the world who have been exposed to western

Ok, I chose this photo, not because it goes with
the story, but because I totally love this pose! LOL.

ideas are immune to western standards of beauty. Even the students have remarked on the complexion of someone's skin. A student was insulted by the insinuation that a man darker than me was his father. It did not matter that the man in question was also Emirati. Anyway.

The stares are especially noticeable in the malls. These places are frequented by native women and children. I imagine that the gawkers think I have committed some great immorality that resulted in my shorn head. I feel like Hester.

So, I decided for my own comfort I would wear a head covering. The effect was immediate. And, to prove that it was not imaginable, on the first day I wore a head covering, I received no fewer than three comments of approval from students and one comment from the Jordanian. Each expressed how beautiful I looked.

I am way to proximate to Africa to have to endure such standards. On the other hand, of course, you know, perms sell real well on the dark continent.  

Postscript:  As I am writing this post, I just got a text from a female, Muslim, Somalian-Born, British colleague/friend informing me that tomorrow (01 February 2014) is National Hijab Day, and that I should wear mine to work tomorrow. Hijab is the head scarf worn by Muslim women with their abayas. So funny. 

My Abaya Experience

You know I had to get one for myself. 

I purchased a lovely abaya from a "local" merchant who assured me that his insignia on my gown would impress the natives. "Local" because none of the abayas are actually designed and created in the Emirates. Mine came from India. It is very pretty, and I really enjoy wearing it. I don't feel in the least confined or subjugated. Of course, mine is a tourist's experience. Anyway, the material is incredibly light and flows very prettily. The fit is surprisingly attractive. 

Thus far, I have worn my abaya on two occasions. 

My photos are not good enough.
You really have to see the Grand Mosque for yourself. 
It is magnificent. 

When Vania visited, she and I toured the Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi. Naturally, women are required to be fully covered while visiting the mosque. Women did not have to wear an abaya, but there should be no visible flesh. There is a dress code for men as well; slacks (no shorts), shirts - pretty simple. Men should not wear writing on their t-shirts that might be offensive.

There is a beautiful water treatment outside the main entrance to the Grand Mosque. 
Two bays contain hundreds of gallons of crystal clear blue water. So pretty. 

This is my favorite spot in the Grand Mosque. Through this glass door, you see rows of decorative pillars. The pillars, alone, are beautiful. However, viewing them through this door enhances their beauty. 

I first wore my abaya to school for National Day (similar to the U.S. Independence Day). Emiratis celebrate the establishment of their nation on 2 December. Celebrations usually last two days. At school, the students dress in traditional clothing - kandora for males (which is what they usually wear when not in school). Presentations are made, classrooms compete for best National Day decoration, and an assembly is held at which a non-Emirati teacher is awarded a prize for the best traditional dress. Guess who won. Yes, me! I was tickled pink - or, rather black.  

The three gentlemen are teacher colleagues.
The hijab, right sleeve and front left section of my abaya are embroidered with gold aplaque.
My hijab (head scarf) is traditional, but I tied in more of an African head wrap style.

The nicest part of my abaya experience was that the Emiratis (students, faculty, community) really appreciated the respect the westerners demonstrated by wearing the traditional clothing. Even at my hotel/apartment, staff who were used to my usual clothng, smiled and commented when they saw me in an abaya. 

The student and colleague reactions were the best. Several said "You look beautiful Miss Karla!" One student (who looks like a teenage Harry Belafonte - for real) stopped me and said to me "I'm serious Miss, you look beautiful!". Another student (I am not exaggerating here) came into my room, took a seat, and licked his lips. ROTFL. Quite a few male colleagues expressed their admiration. I was told multiple times by students and faculty how appealing I looked in the abaya. All covered up. Nothing showing but my smile. 

Go figure.