How do you measure a year?

On New Years Eve, I was travelling to the city of Jaipur, India with a tour group of fifteen people. Most of us were a sleep but I was wide awake looking out the window at the countryside of Northern India. Then one of my favorite songs(from Rent, the musical) came on:

"Five hundred, Twenty-five thousand, Six hundred minutes moments so dear..... how do you measure a year?"

How do you measure a year? How do I begin to measure this year in particular? Soo many things happened in 2012, that it makes me excited and scared for 2013. But all of the blessings of 2012 didn't start out of the blue, I had to go through my own trials, heartaches, disappoints, lots of tears, before last year, to be open to what God had in store for me for this moment in my life in 2013.

How do I measure my year?

I think about my family first. I truly know that they support me all the way. We are a family that supports one another. I really know how blessed I am to have that. Mind you, they weren't exactly thrilled when I told them I wanted to work overseas, and then to say that I will be working in Kuwait, but they trusted me enough to know that I never fully hop into a situation without thinking and researching it. They also are a praying family so I know they are always praying for me, and I for them.

I think about my former students. For five years, I have watched these kids grow up. I was a school mom: proud of them when they made great decisions, disappointed in them when they made poor ones, but loved them every single day. I know that they knew that I would do anything for them (within reason), and they did the same for me (believe me, I can write a blog on some of their shanigans they did to support me). I was so nervous to tell them I was leaving, because I didn't want them to think that it was because of them. But they were happy for me because I have always told them that you have to go after your dreams and follow your heart. They said those same words back to me.

How do I measure my year?

I think about my hometown of Gary, Indiana. How I love it with all of its faults. How there are days that I wish I could walk to the coffee shop around the corner from my apartment, or to the beach, or to the local pizza place. How some days I didn't pickup a newspaper because I didn't want to know about the bad things that happened the night before. Even with its faults, I love my hometown. It allows me to appreciate what I have here in Kuwait.

I think about Kuwait. How it frustrates me so, but yet I feel as if I belong here. The proud moment when I knew what each change denomination was, and used it correctly. The first time I gave basic directions from Beirut Street to my apartment in broken Arabic by myself. Becoming braver in walking in my neighborhood, while also being very tenacious in where I go and how I get there. Meeting friends who aren't teachers, befriending a local person. My first date here....

How do I measure my year?

• Looking out the window flying over the Mediterranean Sea to get to Jordan and then Kuwait.
• The first time I went to church here. 
• Flying into Dubai and getting jealous that they have taxi's with meters and streets with sidewalks.
• Hugging a student who got into their first choice school.
• Seeing the Taj Mahal, a place I have dreamed about seeing since I was like 12 years old.

How do I measure my year?

I really can't measure my year. There are soo many memories that are flooding my mind right now, that I can't measure it. But I can be grateful and happy for the 2012 that I had. And I will be even more grateful and happy for my 2013, and the moments and memories that God will allow it to create for me.

Too Damn Nosy....

"Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people." 

Eleanor Roosevelt

One of my favorite pastimes since moving to this country is to read the crime section in the Arabian Times or the Kuwait Times (two English language papers in the area). The blotter is written like an American celebrity magazine with the strangely weird, the minor celebrity plug, or the disturbing images of crime that happens to maids and hired help. When I run across an interesting story that catches my eye, I have to find someone to tell. I don't know why! Maybe it is human nature.

The same can be said about interesting news that happens to ex-pats in this area. The circle of teachers and contractors is tiny. Spend an evening at a major event and you will probably run into some teacher who hooked up with some contractor, who may be dating that person's ex who works at another school. And you can try to be above it all and ignore the information, but you can't help but listen. Being honest, I do take a moment and think, "who can I tell about this?" Most times I ignore it, but honestly, the longer I stay here, the more nosy I have become.

I used to not be this way.

My co-workers in the past would mostly say that I tried my best to not be in the mix of information. It didn't win me a lot of friends, but it shored up a reputation that I could be trusted, and that I wasn't a gossip. It made for many lonely lunches at times, but I was simply happy to not be in the middle of all the drama. My focus was always on my clients, my students, my family. If I told anything it was to my best friends who live in Central Indiana and Texas. Sometimes it was a great relief to spill stuff about the crazy adults I worked with, knowing that those two trusted people did not know who I was talking about. I talked to my mom a lot, because she always managed to bring insight and honesty when I just needed to talk. Although they are only a phone call away, its not the same. You have to factor in work schedules and time differences, life differences.

Its different here because the people you work with, you also live with, ride with, and hangout with on the weekends. Its not the same because at times you just want to talk to somebody about the crazy of the day who knows exactly what you are going through. You develop quick bonds because you may have been on the same plane together, you work on the same floor, or you are neighbors. The lines get blurry almost too quickly. Conversations begin to merge dangerously between the facts and the opinions.  It's a scary place to be; especially when you used to be a person who could physically separate out work relationships with personal relationships.

Today was my day that I fully became a gossip.

It happened innocently enough. We were talking about some directive that came in the wake of a little scandal. I mentioned that it had been a crazy week, and because I assumed that every knew because I was normally late to the gossip dance, I spilled the beans on someone else's issue. Then I allowed speculation to happen to go along with it. When I got off the bus, and reached my apartment, I realized that in less than 2 minutes I became a 14 year old teenager again.

That scared the crap out of me. It really did.....

Because at the end of the day, you don't want to be known as a person who is a gossip. The ex-pat world is too small to be seen as that kind of person.  The struggle, however, is how to separate yourself from it when its hard to keep personal away from professional. No amount of training can prepare you for that. I constantly have to tell myself something that my mother has always told me: "Remember who you are and whose you are."

I can't reverse my mistake. Some may even say that its not that big of a deal. But whenever I start to feel pieces of my spirit and character begin to be chipped away, it is a big freakin' deal. I want to be known as a great mind, a great person, and a woman of good character. I know now that this will be a big issue for me to overcome. But all I can do is accept my faults, move forward, and keep my damn mouth shut.

Thanksgiving Blues.... and Happiness

"If a fellow isn't thankful for what he's got, he isn't likely to be thankful for 

what he's going to get." 

Frank A. Clark

I admit that this week I have not been in the best of moods. I was also full of gas, so I do wonder if the two go hand in hand. I thought it was PMS, but that wasn't true. I thought that it was all the rain we had this week, which might have been a partial reason, but not the full reason. Then I realized....it's the holiday season. 

For me, good, bad, or indifferent, holiday's equal family. I was talking with a friend of mine today, and realized that in my 34 years, I have always managed to spend Thanksgiving with family. That is a long track record, even for adults. There are traditions tied to this day for me; there are smells, sounds, and sweaters that made me happy. Even when I'm ready to choke my parents for running late, or sitting in traffic on the way to Wisconsin laughing with my brother,Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. 

My Thanksgiving last year, I knew that I was going to go overseas. A couple of months prior, I went to see The Help with my mom, and at the end of the movie, watching Viola Davis walk away from her career and begin to live her life fully, I felt what her character was feeling: a sense of uncertainty about a new path, but understanding that it was her time to move on. Despite all the drama and the stress of my last job, I loved it. I also knew that I could have stayed there forever. But I did feel that it was just my time to go. And when you love what you do to let it go for an unknown future, all you can say to God is please help me understand and trust.

That year I went to Wisconsin with my mom and dad. My dad was a classic backseat driver, my mom was nervous about traffic, and I wanted to scream because we were leaving an hour later than what I wanted to. When we finally did get on the road, everyone relaxed a little bit, I put on music that managed to make my parent's happy, and we made it to dinner about 2 hours late. However, the ride back was my best memory. My dad sat up front with me, and we ended up taking Highway 41 back to Indiana due to a traffic accident coming back into the Chicago area. Figuring out where to go without the aid of a GPS or Onstar, we were in our element. Although it was a drive about an hour longer than what it needed to be, the time spent laughing and talking with my dad and my mom dozing in the back, made me happy. Being able to drive my parent's around was refreshing.

For me that is what holidays are all about. I could dwell in the things that frustrate me so about going to relative houses, or the traffic, or any number of things that manage to piss me off a little bit about the holiday season. But the memories I cherish our those simple moments that just bring a smile to my face. I am thankful for that, because it is those memories that sustain me during times when I'm feeling a little blue and homesick. Those are also the times that help me appreciate even more the opportunities that have come into my life in this present, and what is going to happen in my future. 

As I am writing this, my mom is probably baking zucchini bread or some dessert. The turkey my dad always slow roasts on the grill has been on there since they went to church this morning. My brother DJ and his family are probably going to Lena's parent's first and then manage to do a lot of drive-by's. Tanisha and the kids are getting ready to go spend this holiday with my maternal side of the family. I'm missing out on family friendly jokes, video games, and food, food, food. But I am thankful for those memories. I am thankful for their prayers and encouragement.  But I am also so thankful for where my life is, where it is going, and the adventure and blessings that await. Being thankful for everything is what this life is all about. I am truly grateful and thankful. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.