End of the Year Reflections

There is a disproportionate amount of me on this blog. To date, I have published 185 entries, and Tyler has published 34. I guess you can tell who's the big talker in my marriage. But what you don't know is that Tyler and I talk all the time. One of the best parts of moving to Saudi Arabia is that Tyler and I spend a LOT of time together, and we've had some awesome conversations. So I've decided to include all of you in one of those conversations. Tonight, between loads of laundry that will soon be going into suitcases, Tyler and I are reflecting on our first year in Saudi Arabia and how is has affected us.

Question: What has this first year in Saudi Arabia taught you to appreciate about the US government?

Tyler: For all of the US government's interfering like taxes, the Patriot Act, and all that, they still leave me alone. I can go wherever I want on the internet in the United States. Once I'm of age, I can go to a bar. If I want to open a business where I only sell alcohol I can. There are restrictions, but there aren't ridiculous moral restrictions on what I can do. The more I think about it, the more I'm glad that the United States is not a theocracy.

Our government realizes that infrastructure is important and spends money on it. They have to pay attention to what the citizens want because we give them permission to rule, basically. And we keep people in office or out of office.

Take for example that gigantic dip in the road out there. If I was back in the US, I could complain to the traffic department or whatever. I can complain and it would matter because I'm a taxpayer. Here, in Saudi, if I complain about it they'd be like, "Well, drive a different way."

Amber: I miss the infrastructure too. I hate the fact that for the first few months, we had no idea what the emergency phone number is here and that if we ever needed to call 999, it would take for freakin' ever for the ambulance to find us. Partly because the person on the other end of the line wouldn't speak English but mostly because we don't have street names and addresses here! How would I tell them how to find me!? "Go left...no a little more left. I can hear the sirens, so you must be close!" Meanwhile I'm bleeding out.

AND they don't enforce any laws here, as far as I can tell. The cops keep their lights flashing all the time, so no one pays attention to them when they're going down the highway. They even to the "bwoop bwoop" thing with their sirens for no reason, so when they turn them on in an actual emergency no one takes it seriously. That means that every time we get in the car it's like a demolition derby with people doing whatever the heck they want and the cops don't stop them. And when we get upset about it, people are like, "Why are you so uptight!?"

Question: What has this first year in Saudi Arabia led you to wish the US government did differently?

Tyler: Education. It's like how you always say you're so annoyed that you only speak one language. I feel like Americans should be bi-lingual at the very least because Lord knows the rest of the world is trilingual. I'm annoyed that most Americans don't know anything about the rest of the world. We're so America-centric that we just don't know enough about world cultures. I know that now schools are trying to do better, but we've gotta get on that. Our government needs to focus on education and stop just talking about it.

Amber: Anything else?

Tyler: We do a lot of good stuff in the world, but we don't get any credit for it. Every time there's some kind of horrific natural disaster in the world, who gives a ton of money? Usually the United States. They mobilized an entire part of the Navy to help in Japan. Immediately. My point is yeah, we should care about what people think, but people will only focus on the bad stuff we do and not the good stuff about our country.

Amber: So what does that have to do with the question? What do you wish our government did differently?

Tyler: ...I guess nothing. Just education, I guess.

Amber: What about all the foreign relations stuff?

Tyler: Our blog's not about all that stuff.

Amber: Good point.

Question: What from Saudi Arabia will you miss during your summer travel?

Tyler: Um. Cheap everything. Like my haircut's super cheap--20 riyal which is like $6 and that's with a shave and everything. If I want street food it's so much cheaper than in the States. Like that fried chicken we had the other day. That was 17 riyal for both of us. That's $4.50. That's super cheap. All the shawarma is cheap and you can get a ton of it.

And the GAS is SO CHEAP, OHMIGOD!

That's about it, though. I'm not going to miss much else.

Amber: I'm going to miss the food. I know we can get Arabic food in States, but it just doesn't taste right. Like you know how real Japanese sushi taste SOO much better than what you can get anywhere else?

Tyler: [interrupting] Have you ever had real Japanese sushi?

Amber: [continuing]...at least that's what I've been told. I feel that way about the tabouli, hummus, kebabs and shawarma here.

And I'll miss the Indian food my co-workers bring to school every day. That's stuff yumm.y.

...hey where'd you go?

Tyler: [from the kitchen] I'm making a sandwich.

Question: What will you make sure to bring back with you from the States at the end of the summer?

Tyler: My running shoes. My hats--my bald spot is burning real bad here. And, uh...there's a bunch of other stuff too, but I've forgotten all of it.

Amber: I'm going bring my teaching stuff. There are no parent-teacher stores here so I'm out of luck when it comes to materials.

I'm going to bring a ridiculous amount of tampons back with me.

I wish we could bring our framed artwork back, but it won't fit in our suitcase and I don't trust any postal services to actually get it delivered successfully.

Tyler: [clearly half-listening] Yeah. My running stuff and my hats. Like my lumbar pack and my other pair of shoes.

Amber: That's it? That's all you miss from home?

Tyler: Of stuff that I can bring back with me? Yeah. I miss everything, but I can't bring it back with me. What, you mean like a rolled up copy of the Declaration of Independence? I can get that off the internet!

Amber: I want to bring our wedding album and scrapbook back. Facebook photo albums just aren't cutting it.

Tyler: whatever.

Question: What item did you think you wouldn't be able to find in Saudi but it turns out that you can?

Tyler: Lots of food items, like those Nature Valley granola bars. I was expecting not to have these things and it wasn't going to be a big deal. So I was surprised to find them here and it was like, "Oh. Ok." I mean, it's not like I was thinking "I'm gonna miss those granola bars," but when we went to the grocery store and saw them on the shelf it was nice to find.

What I mean is I didn't know what I would and wouldn't be able to get as far as food items are concerned but it turns out we can pretty much shop like normal, minus the bacon.

Amber: Not that we were going to be looking for it, but I was surprised to find all the American chains. Holiday Inn, Banana Republic, Chilis, Applebee's. I guess I was expecting to literally be in a desert of unfamiliar things, but it turns out there's a LOT more America here than most people expect.

Question: What it did you think you would find in Saudi, but it turns out you can't?

Tyler: Tortilla chips.

Amber: books. And camels. Ok, camels on every street corner. That I can ride.

Tyler: ...You thought you would find that here?

Amber: no. I'm just kidding. But I was under the impression that there would be books.

Question: What don't you miss about American culture?

Tyler: Things like Wal-Mart. There's kind of this notion in the American psyche that's like, "I should be able to buy everything I want in the same place." The idea of the specialty shop is not dead here, and it kind of is in the United States.

Amber: Oh. I kind of miss Wal-Mart. I miss being about to get everything in the same place...

Tyler: Well yeah, I mean, me too! When we get your 15 thousand packs of tampons, where do you think we're going to get them?! It's either going to be Costco or Wal-Mart! I just think it's gotten a little out of hand.

Amber: I don't miss the prescription drug commercials. I know that's totally random, but yeah. They just clog up TV at home.

Tyler: That's a good point. I hate those things.

Question: What do you miss about American culture?

Tyler: honestly, it's not one thing that I miss. It's American culture itself. I would love to see a commercial in English that wasn't dubbed. It would be nice to watch something on TV that was geared towards me again. It's hard to explain.

[pause]

Jogging. In the United States, people see joggers and don't immediately think, "Hey, I'm going to mess with that guy." Exercising is a normal thing at home, it's not like, "Look at that maniac running!"

Amber: At least you can go running outside.

Tyler: touche.

Amber: I miss people holding doors for other people. I miss making eye contact with strangers and not immediately having to look away for fear of being thought of as a hussy. It's not like I was making eyes with everyone I saw at home, but I kept my eyes level and if I accidentally made eye contact with someone, I would give a little smile and nod. You know, to indicate that I'm not a creeper and I'm not trying to undress you with my eyes. I'm just looking straight ahead and you happened to walk through my line of vision.

But here I feel like I always need to look down or at anywhere but people's faces.

Tyler: Yeah, and I can kiss you in public or we could hold hands and flirt and people wouldn't think anything about it.

Amber: ...And when I do accidentally make eye contact here, I give my knee-jerk reaction of a smile and nod and immediately, if it's a dude, I get the creepy eyebrow raise and puckered lips that suggests he wants a secret tryst. Or if it's a woman...ok, I'll usually get a small smile out of her. But she quickly looks away like she's done something wrong.

What do you like most about Saudi Arabian culture?

Tyler: That is a tough call...um. [long pause] One thing I like about Saudi Arabian culture--and I envy them for this--is that they have the ability to just talk to anybody. Ok, so I went to that pastry place next to our school. And I wanted cheese with garlic, and I got cheese with olives. I thought it really isn't that big a deal and I need to get going so I'll just take them and go. But an Arab would have been like "Fix it. Now. And I expect it in the next 2 minutes."

Amber: So you mean they complain?

Tyler: No, it's that they don't care. They'll go talk to anybody. I dunno. It's hard to explain. No...erase all that.

Amber: The whole thing?

Tyler: Yeah.

Amber: No.

Tyler: What I mean is it's a talking culture. Arabs like to talk.

Amber: So you mean that an American in a restaurant would probably just take the wrong order and say, "eh, I'll make do," but a Saudi speaks up and gets his order right?

Tyler: Yeah. Part of me really wants to do that. Part of me wants to be like, "Send this crap back to the kitchen!" But I'm not a jerk like that. But I also want to eat what I ordered. So I envy that that kind of behavior is normal here.

Amber: I guess that's a good point. But I kind of feel like what's the big deal, you know? Unless you have a deadly food allergy, just suck it up! Or at least be a nice person about it.

Tyler: So what do you like?

Amber: The call to prayer. I think it's a unique aspect of living in this part of the world. I like that it's become such a normal part of our day that hearing it is like background noise. At first it was loud and startling, but now it's just like...a phone ringing or something...

What do you hate most about Saudi Arabian culture?

Tyler: The call to prayer. When everything shuts down and you can't do anything for 20 minutes.

Amber: Yeah, and it's different for every store! Like the grocery store near the school shuts down 30 minutes before the athan [the call to prayer] and then stays closed for 30 minutes during prayer. That means those workers get an HOUR break at least 3 times during their shifts! But other stores only close for like 10 minutes.

Tyler: and it would be a different matter if everybody went to pray. But they all just stand outside the door and wait for the time to pray to end. I know it's not any of my business but it's like, "Hey! This is it! This is your time to go pray! This is your call!"

[pauses, thinking]

And inevitably prayer is right when you need to go do something!

Question: What is the thing about living in Saudi Arabia that will be most difficult to describe to people back home?

Tyler: From the moment the shock of moving to Saudi Arabia went away, I've felt like I've had a weight on my shoulders. You kind of forget that it's there until you leave. For example, when we went to Berlin, I was like, "This is nice!" [editor's note: Tyler did the little shoulder shake, swivel hips thing that is the universal sign for relaxation. Also the universal sign for "I'm in a hot tub." You know the one] You can feel it as we're taking off. It's like, "Ahhh..." Maybe it's because I'm getting a break from school...but I think it's because we're leaving Saudi Arabia. Even when we go to Bahrain I just feel lighter.

Amber: Is that because you feel unsafe in Saudi Arabia?

Tyler: no. I feel extremely safe here. But it's that I have to be so cautious about what I say and what I do here. You just get tired of having to do it constantly. Of having to be so aware of yourself.

Amber: It's like you can't relax.

Tyler: Exactly. When we're in our house it's fine. But when we go grocery shopping or go to school it's like a constant ....oppression? I just feel constantly self conscious. I have to be so cautious all the time.

Amber: Cautious of what? Of offending people?

Tyler: That's part of it. Offending people or... you know...we were so used to being lovey-dovey to each other but here we don't want to piss off the mutawa. I dunno. I just constantly have to be careful about how I say things. You can't ever say the word "Israel." It's not like I'm always talking about it, but I do say it once in a while. And I can't say too many positive things about the United States or I'll be called a colonizer.

[It should be noted that by this point Tyler has gotten tired of our little game and he has started playing on his xbox.]

Question: Do you feel that working here has made you a better person?

Tyler: [pauses. kills a few guys. thinking] Er...no. Maybe more patient? I dunno how to explain it. No is the short answer, I guess. I think I've learned things about myself by living here...

Amber: But you don't think it's made you a better person.

Tyler: As a whole I don't think I'm going to be a better person as a result of this, but it has changed little things. I've learned things about myself that I didn't expect.

Amber: Like what?

Tyler: I didn't know that I still need to work on my temper.

[At this point, it's important to note that my husband is not, and has never ever been violent towards me in any way. The "temper" he is referring to is the occasional blinding anger he gets when playing video games and, recently, while driving in Saudi Arabia.]

Amber: You mean your road rage?

Tyler: Yeah, I thought I had a good handle on my temper but I've still got a lot of work to do. So there's that.

I've also learned that it's not impossible to re-discipline yourself. I used to be a hardcore runner and I thought I'd never get it back. When I was in Nashville I thought I was going to be fat and lazy for the rest of my life. But I've gotten a bit of it back. I've learned you can actually teach yourself to do things a different ways even though you're 27, 28.

Amber: You're 27.

Tyler: That is true.

At this point in the conversation, Tyler needed to go to the gate to let one of the neighbors in, and I got distracted with my laundry, and we both got a little hungry so the conversation kind of dropped off. But that's a little peek into my living room on a Friday night. We go back to work tomorrow for our last week of work in Saudi Arabia! ...well, until September when school starts again....

Vicariously yours,

Stuff Arabs Like #14: Juice Boxes

I want you to do me a favor. You will need the mental image for this post to really make sense. So go on, close your eyes. Are they closed? Okay, good. Now, imagine a 40 year old man...with the traditional Saudi goatee...in a thobe...talking on a cell phone...at a business meeting...sipping on a juice box.

That's right. A juice box. Arabs love them. It is, for them, the perfect drink on the go. In the States you see people sipping on a Diet Coke or a Dr. Pepper (mmm, Dr. Pepper), but here they choose to get their refined sugars from the cardboard box equivilant of a Capri Sun. It's not like they're drinking healthy fruit juice either. Sure, it's fruit juice, but how much of that came from actual fruit? The ingredients never lie... The aisle at the grocery store is literally top to bottom filled with different flavors and brands from all over the world. It's like a United Nations of boxed drinks.

And the best part of all is that EVERYONE drinks them. Toddlers, teenagers, and yes, even grown men. Professional men. I went into our version of Verizon the other day to get some stuff with our account worked out and the gentleman who helped me was nursing an apple juice the whole time we talked. It was one of those tiny 4 oz. boxes with a bright yellow bendy straw. Adorable.

While you would expect to see people sipping on their Starbucks in the morning on the way to work, usually the gentleman in the BMW passing you on the left is relishing a mango juice with added sugar. When you think the two shebab wandering around the mall would be drinking a Coke you are surprise to see them squeezing a fruit juice cocktail to get the last drops out of it.

I can totally understand the Mr. Mom whose only choice for liquid refreshment on the go is the orange juice he tossed in the diaper bag before heading out on the road to see Grandma. Or even the soccer coach who is washing down some orange slices with a grape juice after a tough loss to the Joe's Hardware Eagles. But with the frequency that we see grown men drinking from the boxed goodness we can only assume that they have chosen this as their beverage of choice.

Vicariously yours,

The "Wow, I live in Saudi Arabia" Moment of the Day

I love Mythbusters. It's a fantastic show and they get to do lots of ridiculous stuff on there...like make cheese cannons or turn cargo containers and a forklift into a catapult. I heard an interview with them once where they were asked about what it's like to be able to do all that cool stuff and Adam Savage always says that they have what he calls "what the hell are we doing" moments. It's kind of like..."so we get to try and shoot a dude off a pier with compressed air and soda bottles...what the hell are we doing?!"

In a similar fashion I get stopped by the ridiculousness of things going on in around me in the Kingdom pretty frequently. These are my version of the "what the hell am I doing" moments...but to be more tame, I call them "wow, I live in Saudi Arabia" moments.

Today, I was sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store we go to (you know, the one that looks like a casino?) and listening to the end of a BBC newscast when a promo for a piece on the anniversary of Marvin Gaye's What's Goin On album came on. In the background of the promo was of course "What's Goin On". I love that song, and so I had an impromptu car dance behind the wheel singing the chorus to myself, when I looked up and saw a family of Saudis walking into the grocery store...all thobed and abaya'd out. I stopped dancing immediately. It was my "wow., I live in Saudi Arabia" moment. I was in the parking lot of the Indian grocery store, listening to Marvin Gaye on a British news radio station...in Saudi Arabia. It was strange...but I couldn't help chuckling to myself. We live a very unique kind of life here in the Kingdom...

Seriously...what's going on...

Vicariously yours,

What's in a Name?

As you may or may not be aware, names in the Arab world have slightly more meaning than they do in the West. Now, I apologize if you were named for your grandparents or something, but the name itself doesn't really hold any meaning. Take my name for instance. Tyler literally means "maker of tiles". That's right. Another delightful occupational name from the Anglo-Saxon tradition. My last name, through some tough googling, I discovered means "church"...(it's a long explanation and I don't want my wife and her siblings to give me the eye for going on about it). Anyway...the names that we possess don't really have meanings the way that they do here. Especially nicknames.

So here's the thing. For Muslims, your name means something. It's an attribute or a wish that your parents hope you will turn out with that value or something like that. It's not quite as simple as, "oh, Skyler sounds neat!" (seriously, who came up with that name!?) For instance, Omar means "long lived"...Abdullah means "servant of God"...and Faisal means "strong & handsome" or "decisive" (depending on the spelling). Because some names are more desirable than others, there are LOTS of kids with the same names. For instance, I have 4 Mohammeds in one of my classes (all spelled totally differently, by the way). This was actually one of the biggest struggles I had when I first got here...it makes it almost impossible to know their names. Although it did help to know that if you don't know someone's name, you can actually say "ya Mohammed!" and it's like saying "hey you!".

There is also a kind of significance to your name. Like you are kind of expected to give your first son your dad's name. So my oldest son (when we have one) would be named Bryan. This tradition is also built into your nickname. The guys over here affectionately refer to each other with a pretty standard nickname. It's Abu (meaning father of) or Um (meaning mother of) and then either your oldest son's name or if you don't have a son, your father's name. So I would be Abu Bryan and my dad would be Abu Tyler (since I'm the oldest). Honestly, I think that tradition is pretty cool. My nickname growing up was techols...which just sounds goofy. Don't get me wrong, it's totally mine and I love it, but I'm really proud of my dad, and having his name as my nickname...I kind of wear it like a badge of honor. (That's right, some of the 10th graders have started to call me Abu Bryan). This works with the parents I call too..."excuse me, is this Abu (insert student name)?" It's strange, but it's a kind of efficient system that I've grown kind of fond of.

I'm not sure if the girls have the same kind of thing. I've heard some of the guys in phone meetings with the girls's side call the girl teachers Um (insert son's name). So I guess they do...but I'll have to check with Amber and get back to you. In the meantime, I think my siblings and I should all start referring to our father as Abu Tyler...it would be hilarious and also kind of awesome.

Vicariously yours,

Author's note: For our actual Muslim/Saudi/Arab readers, please feel free to correct me on the meaning of these names...I did actually ask, but some people gave me different answers! Sorry in advance!

Stuff Arabs Like #13: Professional Wrestling

Pictured above: John Cena, who I'm pretty sure is famous for wrestling in jorts...

They love it. And all of the guys here do. I have seen grown men wearing the logos of specific wrestlers and the occasional WWE tshirt. It's big business here. It's on prime time the way that Monday Night Football is. Recently, WWE Raw came to Qatar for what I understand to be the first time in wrestling history. My kids went. Seriously, like half of my 7th graders (and probably a few of the older kids too) went to Qatar which is like a flight or a 5 hour drive away for the weekend to see this big match thing.

I remember when I lived in Kuwait in 7th grade these two Kuwaiti kids came up to me at a water park and were like, "Shawn Michaels! Shawn Michaels!" I literally had no idea what they were talking about and since that was basically the extent of their English I was left to wonder. Later I found out that he was a WWF wrestler...and that this (along with McDonald's) were pretty much their only exposure to American culture.

Pictured: Shawn Michaels. Yes, you may laugh.

The internet has changed that of course. Facebook and Google have made it possible for American culture to be exported everywhere. Now my kids love Glee and my 10th graders have this really weird fondness for Oprah. But amazingly, their love of wrestling has remained. I've tried to think about what could possibly be the thing that is so attractive to them. It must be the same thing that Americans love about it...unbridled violence, overwhelming testosterone, and ridiculous storylines before and after the usually very short matches.

One of my kids told me the other day that The Rock (now known as Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson in his movies nowadays) was coming back to WWE Raw (he was on back-in-the-day). The kid was really excited about it. I told him that I used to see him when I was about his age and even offered up his famous catch phrase to give myself some street cred. I gained approximately a billion cool points in a matter of about 5 seconds. My favorite thing about that experience was realizing that these kids were watching something at the same time I was all the way around the other side of the world. And that was just wrestling. Think about how crazy it's going to be as high schoolers here are watching the same shows at the same time as kids on the other half of the planet! Suddenly this place seems a whole lot smaller than it did before.

Vicariously yours,

No Touching!!

A word of warning for the gentlemen: if you don't like other people touching you or touching other people, do not come to Saudi Arabia. I've mentioned before how shaking hands here happens with such regularity that I have become totally awkward around westerners...but really, that's just the beginning.

The other day, one of my students went in for the cheek kissing greeting. I want to clarify that this is something they do to all the teachers, but have not done it with me because I have expressed my discomfort with it. For those of you that aren't aware of the mechanics of the cheek kissing thing, you shake hands (optional: bro grabs) then touch cheeks together and make the kissing noise. Those of you at home who know that I get uncomfortable even being too close to other people will laugh at the very idea of me engaging in this form of greeting. But it seems like it's something I'm just going to have to get over. One of the teachers that I've been working with here had to return home because his father-in-law passed away. When he got back I went to offer my condolences and went in for the bro grab/handshake that normally goes, but then I think he was expecting the normal greeting. I know he was fine with the not, but it turned my sharing of an experience with him kind of awkward. So I feel that I must overcome the weirdness. As I become better and better friends with my Arab colleagues, I need to adapt a little to make myself more open to them and this is one way I guess I can do that.

As another example, I went to get a haircut today. Getting haircut here isn't just a SuperCuts or Heads Up! kind of experience. It's like a for real barber shop. I opted to get a shave which was wonderful, but then after the shave comes the steam bath, the facial/scalp massage, and the shoulder/arm massage. I feel great afterwards, but the man-handling that I received was pretty brutal. The gentleman who was cutting my hair was also new and didn't really speak any English, so after an awkward moment when I learned his name through the other barber and some joking about the karate chops he was giving to my back, he kissed me on the head. Another form of greeting that is just...well...totally weird to me.

All of this together is just another thing that I'm getting used to about living in the Kingdom. Sometimes its okay, sometimes it makes me feel like this...

Sidenote: I shaved my beard off in a tragic accident at the barber's.

Vicariously yours,

Identity Theft

A day or so ago, some people on Facebook put an article up about the revolutions in the Middle East. Definitely read it. I was fascinated by it, and I think the guy had some really great points and I agree with most of it...but then again, something bothered me about it. It kind of relates back to an earlier post about westerners just not "getting it" about the Middle East, but this is a little more specific. Many people view the Arab World as one big unit...but each country, even in North Africa, is so different from the others that to blanket the entire Arabian peninsula as basically (though I know he never said it) "fake countries" is just kind of out there. Now, there's no way I can say that Mr. Friedman is wrong...dude has basically spent his life in the Middle East studying and writing about it. That's not really what I wanted to write about. No, I wanted to write about the way that this makes me feel.

Living here is a constant challenge. It's a challenge to my faith, it's a challenge to my customs, and it's a challenge to the patriotic feelings I have for my country. I had to explain why the idea that 9/11 was an inside job was ludicrous to my 10th graders. I am spoken to about Christianity in a tone that seems to say, "that's so cute that you believe that...". I have started speeding.

And yet, I find myself defending this place to people back home. I get a twinge of irritation when I see things people write about the Kingdom. I write facebook comments and then decide not to send them because I know it would cause a thing. When I get home I know that I'm going to have some interesting conversations with people who think they know a lot about this place, but don't actually know a damn thing.

This has led me to a very strange conclusion: like Spock, I am a child of two worlds now. I have the burden of knowledge and experience that will never let me hear a news story about the USA without dreading what it will be. I won't be able to see an event like the "trial" of Islam in Florida without thinking immediately of my students and getting sad that after all I do to try and show them what a great thing America is, I get this. I will never be able to read the reports about protests in the Kingdom without seeing that no one really sees what's going on. When I get home, I know I'm going to be culture shocked. I'm going to shake hands with everyone a million times, drive too fast and honk unnecessarily, and just generally feel uncomfortable. This is going to be very strange.

So I have been completely changed by this experience and it's not even halfway over. I'm still Tyler, there's no doubt about that. I love puns, oreos, and a good, cold, dark beer (can you tell I'm excited for Berlin?). But my perspective has shifted and my understanding of who I am in relation to the rest of the world is different now and will always be.

Vicariously yours,

Awkward American (aka Tyler)

I had the strangest experience that I've had yet in the Kingdom, today. Some American educators came and took a tour of our school. I think the idea was to show them how a Saudi private school works (and we are kind of the best one...nbd). I met with one of them who was actually a very interesting and nice guy who taught at a school in Houston. Anyway he asked the normal questions you would ask like:
"What are the differences that you see in teaching Saudis vs. Americans?"
"How long do you have?" I replied.

We then had a kind of panel discussion about Arabs, America, the future of the Middle East, etc. It was in the midst of this discussion that I realized that I was totally experiencing culture shock. I was sitting on the other side of the table from these American educators...both physically and figuratively.

The big thing I noticed is that they sounded the way I did when I first got here. We as Americans really want to be open minded...and I think we actually are. However, we don't really know how to be...and we're kinda bad at it. Much of what we do to try and connect with people is show that we empathize...we understand your experience or we use our experience to try and understand it. There's nothing wrong with this...I know it's well intended and I will probably do it every time I go to a new place. I realized, though, that I understood something that many Americans do not get the chance to understand: we don't get it. We try really hard, but we just don't. As a nation, as foreign policy, as world citizens...we miss the point a lot.

Now before you go all "tea party" on me and get upset for thinking that we don't get it...that's part of the problem. One of the issues is the political thing...I kept asking my students and my colleagues what they want America to do. They keep telling me they don't want us to do anything. Just let them do what they do. I understand that we have a vested interest here involving terrorism and our only legitimate source of fuel, so we can't just do nothing. But I hear on the news and commentary in American media this same question I was always asking..."what do they want us to do?!" It really does prove that we are missing the point.

The educators that came were great guys. I certainly don't want to take anything away from the them. I am proud that my countrymen wanted to make a hell of a trek over here to actually find out what schools in the Kingdom are like. I'm glad that the students got to speak to more Americans that aren't shouting about how Islam is going to destroy the United States. I'm glad that we got to sit down and talk with them and tell them what it's like to teach internationally as an American. But I couldn't help noticing a great deal of almost reverse culture shock at the way they were answering questions about Arab-American issues.

Again, I don't have this place figured out. I could not even dream of saying that I "get it". But I think that I do understand that I don't...and from the way that acknowledging this has paved the way for deeper, more fruitful, and all around better conversations with my students and colleagues...it seems that this is the way to go.

On a related note: I was totally accidentally awkward because of some social cues here. One of the things here is that you shake hands with people every time you see them. You shake hands in the morning, in the hall way, even when you tell a good joke. As your students are coming in the room it's like a receiving line. This made for an awkward moment when I shook one of the guy's hands like twice and reached out for a third time on the way out the door...I was denied...realized immediately how weird it must have seemed to them and awkwardly explained the unnecessary hand shaking. They laughed uncomfortably and we parted ways...it felt like that Arrested Development episode when Michael is talking to that British girl and says something like, "...and so I bid you good morrow" and walks away mouthing "what is wrong with me...". Yeah, just like that.

Vicariously yours,

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall...

I'm just minding my own business...writing my objectives up on the board when I hear something that sounds a lot like someone's baked potato is about to come out of the microwave. Seriously, that's what the fire alarm sounded like at first. At almost the exact same moment the A/C cut off. This has happened before and I thought, like last time, that some kid had pulled the alarm. I proceed to make some jokes with one of my students about how he's on fire...this is, of course, the moment that the principal walks by to tell everyone that it's kind of not a drill. At that moment, a model teacher, I was not.

To borrow from our dear friend Kimmie

[Tangent: In my defense, I have been conditioned by years of American public school fire drills to be calm and orderly while leaving during a fire alarm...however, as most of you know, this has really had the affect of making fire drills totally non-threatening and creates the perfect conditions for jokes that have lines like "oh, the humanity..."]

I follow the mob of students that I have to continually tell to stop running back into the building that I now believe to be on fire (ish...still not a hundred percent really). The middle and high schoolers go to the soccer field and the elementary goes to the basketball court. The former begin texting like mad...the latter, however...well...they decided to have a fake protest. They assembled into the perfect column and started shouting the slogans that they could only have learned on Al-Jazeera. It was totally funny but part of me was expecting tear gas to come flying over the wall. After a couple of minutes the chanting and marching died down (elementary students don't have much of an attention span) and the teachers' whistles led them back to the bball court.

Our kids eventually were led back into the school still abuzz from the whole experience. This left me with every teacher's dream: a room full of post fire alarm kids and half of a teaching period. Let me tell you, we were definitely able to reach all of our objectives today...(yeah right).

Vicariously Yours,

a confession.

I had a startling realization today: I am an ugly American. I made this discovery while speaking with one of my colleagues and a parent who were speaking in Arabic. "Oh, come on..." I thought, "just speak English!" I noticed that the tone I was using in my inner monologue was one of entitlement. I was taken aback by my inner America brat. Where did that come from?

A few weeks ago I was about to unleash a rant post about how Americans suck at representing themselves abroad. My examples would be, of course, the students at the bar in Barcelona...the woman who refused to wear the abaya at the mall (and was a righteous you-know-what to boot)...I knew that I would be the perfect person to mention all this stuff because we all know that I'm not like that...

...But I am! I like to fancy myself as the Hemingway-esque expat...sipping tea with my Arab colleagues and imagining that I understand their perspective and how they think about issues. But I'm just not that guy. I still cannot escape my inner ugly American. I refuse to eat things because they look/smell weird...I complain because things are done differently than I'm used to in the states...I get annoyed when my colleagues break into Arabic...I don't even want to mention how many times we've eaten at Chili's since we moved here in September. Just writing these down makes me cringe a little.

One of the teachers I work with believes that the key to a better relationship between the west and the Arab world is better communication and that we need to visit each other. I would agree with that, but I say living there would be better. I got here in September and have spent so much time thinking about how different everything is that it's been hard to enjoy myself. I'm only now starting to really get comfortable and be able to really absorb the great stuff that the Kingdom has to offer, and more importantly get to know how Arabs look at the world.

Vicariously yours,

it's a conspiracy.

My students love conspiracy theories. They love them. Everything that they talk about is either about the Masons, Illuminati, or some kind of crazy American government plot. This is extended to basically everything that we have studied or not studied this year. Everything from 9/11, the founding of Israel, America in Iraq (pretty much any event in history) to the music industry. There is a theory that Eminem was once a member of the Illuminati, but got out because he thought they were doing evil things and that's why everyone is out to get him. I mean...wow...

Anyway, after a heated conversation about 9/11 today after class, I was left thinking. Why is it that conspiracy theories are so popular? I had a conversation with my incredibly intelligent sister about this and I came to two conclusions: people believe in conspiracy theories because ignorance allows any truth to be possible; people believe in conspiracy theories because they have a vested interest in believing whatever the conspiracy is.

Firstly, ignorance allows any truth to be possible. One of my students today maintained that everyone knows that there were explosions (like charges or something) that caused the World Trade Center towers to fall like they did. This student is not an engineer. I am also not an engineer. I can safely say that I do not know the physics behind what caused the towers to fall the way they did. Now it occurred to me while I was listening to this student that because neither of us really understand how these things work, anything could be possible and true. If we expand this idea to any other conspiracy theory, say, the "faked" moon landings, we discover that there's a lot of variables that prevent you from having an easy idea of how these things happen. I understand why people think that we faked the moon landings...I mean...no one has been there but 14 astronauts. They're really the only ones who have really experienced the conditions on the moon. So how the flag waves in a vacuum or how the lighting on the moon looks really is something that we have to do some crazy mythbusters type investigations to test. Usually people who believe in conspiracy theories are simply thinking based on public information...or youtube videos that have been proven wrong (yes I'm looking at you "loose change"). So ultimately, for my students and for myself, trying to argue about things like this are kind of pointless. I mean, yes, we need to get these things out in the open and discuss them, but if the student or the teacher cannot really intimately describe the mechanics and physics involved in something as complicated as a building collapse...then perhaps it's not a credible point to make in an argument.

Secondly was the point that my sister brought up. People want (or need, in some cases) to believe in said conspiracy. If my students believe, honestly believe, that 9/11 was an American government/Illuminati/Masonic plot then it lets Islam off the hook. They become the religion that is getting beaten up on; the victim. I know, and I like to think that most Americans know, that it was a group of very disturbed individuals that committed the atrocities of 9/11 in the name of Islam. Just like all Christians do not condone the bombing of abortion clinics or violent action against homosexuals, most Muslims abhor the attacks of 9/11. I had a conversation today with one of my colleagues about the perceptions that westerners and Arabs have of one another. It's built on Fox News and terrorism for most Americans, and American TV and the invasion of Iraq and US support of Israel for most Arabs. What this leads to is a desire to shut out the west and keep them at a distance, while Americans are both afraid of and intrigued by Arabs. Getting back to my point, sometimes people believe in a conspiracy because they want it to be true, and not investigating further is their way of allowing ignorance so that it can be (see how I tied it back to the other idea? You're welcome.)

I'm sure I'm gonna get some comments on this, but it's something that I have really been thinking about and talking about a lot with my students. Our understanding of each other is very limited, and even when we seem to get close, we realize how different we are.

Vicariously yours,

evenings with the shebab.

I have very recently returned to running on the regular. This is extremely exciting to me, as it allows me to do things that I have not previously been able to do (i.e. walk up stairs while having a conversation, tie my shoes without getting out of breath...). The only issue with this is that I don't have a lot of places to go running so I am limited to running on the Corniche (beach front road). You're probably saying, "Tyler, what's the problem? You get to run on the beach everyday...stop complaining." This would be great, but along with the view of the Gulf and the Bahrain causeway, there are the shebab, or young men.

There's not a lot to do in Saudi Arabia. Especially if you're a young man. No dating...no cinemas...they're not even allowed in malls without their families. There's also the issue of Bahrain being...well...out of order. The sheesha places here have also been closed because they were viewed as a "bad element" in the neighborhood. So what can they do? Apparently just sit on the Corniche sidewalk or in their cars and text, smoke cigarettes, and barbecue. They also really enjoy hanging out of moving car windows, driving really fast, and of course honking at everything. They get so loud sometimes that it freaks us out...but hey, they're shebab.

Because the only place to run is the Corniche, I end up spending a lot of time with the shebab. This means I get honked at a lot. I also end up having to get off the sidewalk sometimes because they've literally camped out right there. It's been pretty interesting. Most of the time they're so involved in their BBMing they don't say or do anything. However, sometimes I get the Arabic equivalent of "Run Forrest Run" (which by the way is "yalla, yalla!").

Ultimately, it's not bad enough to make me want to stop running there, but it is funny and a little sad that they don't have anything better to do. I think after awhile of running on the Corniche, it won't be a novelty...but then again I'm literally the only person I've seen doing anything remotely exercise related out there. But until either jogging becomes a socially acceptable activity or they find something better to do...I'll be spending my evenings with the shebab on the Corniche.

Vicariously yours,

parent meetings are the same in every language.

What? It's true.

This is only my 4th year teaching, so I don't pretend that I'm totally jaded and know everything about the profession. But there are a few things that I have noticed about meetings with parents that seem to be pretty much the same no matter where you go. I've taught in public schools, private schools, a rural school, and, now, a Saudi Islamic school. So I think I've got a pretty decent survey of different meetings.

Generally, teachers need to meet with parents for 2 reasons: academic issues or behavior issues. Oftentimes they are linked...but 99.9 repeating % of meetings are for those reasons. Parent responses are, of course, more varied. And obviously all students and situations are all different. However, as I sat in a parent meeting today where the parent didn't speak English, and I understood only little chunks of the conversation, I heard the things that you hear as a teacher all the time.

"He is a really bright boy, he just needs support..." or "...he just needs to get away from distractions..."

"He just needs to focus..."

"Do you post the homework on the board?"

Lots of them. Anyway...

I sit sometimes and think of the things that make people from different parts of the world similar...and it doesn't really get any more similar than the way that parents care for their children. There is the range of parenting styles, of course. But parents everywhere just want the best for their kids. It's this understanding that (hopefully) exists between parents and teachers that each really does want the best for the kid. I liked sitting in the office with the parent today...it made me realize that even though I didn't really understand his words, I got what he meant. And that, dear readers, is a great feeling.

Vicariously yours,

the nap trap.

What do you do when you get home from work? Maybe watch TV? Cook dinner? Play with the dog/kids (which is the same thing if you're my sister-in-law)? Well in Saudi the thing to do is nap.

School for us ends at 2:40 pm. So we're home by 3:30 pm if we stick around. It's nice to have so much time to run errands and stuff, but then again...nothing's open! This is an old tradition that has remained a way of life in the Arabian Peninsula. From what I understand, things were so hot during the early afternoon that people just shut down everything and go sit in the shade. With the creation of A/C, people kept the same hours...just now they take the time to nap. That way they can stay awake for the cool evenings and do all the stuff they want to do. This means for us that all the stores are closed until around 4 or so, and things don't really get started until like 9 pm.

When we first got here, we thought it was great. Thanks to the jet lag, we were sleeping after school pretty much everyday. It was also nice to know that we weren't missing much. But now that I've grown accustomed to the time and the way things work here, I'm not so sure it's good. This is a running debate among the Americans here. We affectionately call the daily afternoon nap, "the nap trap". It's a trap (oh c'mon, I had to) because you end up staying up late, which makes you tired the next day, and in need of a nap. Some are totally in favor of it. Some think that it wastes your afternoon.

For me, it changes everyday. Sometimes I just need a nap because I stayed up too late. Sometimes I want to fight against it because I want to get to sleep on time or get something done. Most of the time I find myself annoyed if I sleep during the day. I become worthless for the rest of the day. I'm against the nap trap because I only get so many hours a day to call my own. I don't want to be asleep for them!

Of course, I say all this while the lady is taking a nap...

Vicariously yours,

in which i have to leave to notice some things here...

You may or may not be aware of this, but when you are in a place for a long period of time, things become normal. You get used to a certain standard in everything. Everything from food to weather...you just start to think that this is the way it is and you don't think about it. The best metaphor I can think of for it is how everyone else's house has a smell...but you never notice how your house smells because you smell it all the time.

Which can sometimes lead to tragedy.

As Amber has been telling you, we just spent the week in Barcelona. I think you guys are pretty smart, so I don't think I need to explain how Mediterranean Spain is different than the Kingdom. But our time away from Saudi (to use the metaphor again) let me realize the way our house smells.

So some things that I have noticed since we got back:

1. The Traffic: Holy death trap, Batman! I know that driving in Saudi is bad. I was even to the point of fear when we first got here, but I guess I got used to it. I knew the "rules" (in quotes because, of course, there are no rules) and driving wasn't a big deal. When we got back from Spain, I hopped in the car to run to the grocery store and was immediately almost killed. I pulled out from our street onto the main drag and a car went by me so fast and so close that my VOLVO shook. The past few trips out have been expletive laden to say the least. But one of the things that I've been thinking about is how before we left, I just expected that kind of driving and thus it didn't really frustrate me anymore. I apparently lost that control.

2. The Volume: We had to be at Barcelona's airport at 8:30ish in the morning. We arrived, checked in, and started to find our way to the gate when Amber stopped dead in her tracks. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's...it's so quiet!"

There were a ton of people in the airport, and if you've ever been to that airport, you know that it's super open and there's not a lot in the way of sound absorption. But you could have heard a pin drop. Here, however, not so much. We went to the grocery store and BOOM. Children running amok...men talking loudly at each other...women yelling for said children. It was insane. And deafening. I never remember it being that loud...but I guess you get used to the volume too.

3. The Prayer Break: I spent a week of being able to just go out and get some food or run errands whenever. It was great because I can't do that here. I have to be conscious of the prayer times. It really didn't bother me that much before we left, but once we got back and wanted dinner yesterday, I stepped out the door and suddenly, prayer call. Wait 15 to 30 minutes and try again. It's one of those things you're not really allowed to be mad about...I mean it's literally one of the major points of their religion. So I have to be a grown up about it...::sigh::

It's pretty weird to have your normal be Saudi normal...but it's ours. I guess I just forget how our normal is so strange...leaving to somewhere else always highlights that. Berlin is gonna do a real job on my perception of the Kingdom...ugh.

Vicariously yours,

in which i take you along with me to get a haircut.

Now, before I begin, I should make one thing clear: I'm not really a "pamper myself" kinda guy. I don't really like cosmetic things to be a big deal. My normal haircut costs about $15...and it's always at a place in a strip mall with a clever name like "Kwik Kuts" or "Head's Up". I got a shave before our wedding, and that was a special occasion. I'm usually in and out in 20 minutes...and that's if I get a shampoo and the stylist is particularly talkative.

Here, as many things are, it's totally and completely different.

I noticed today that my hair was particularly shaggy and we're about to go on vacation (real pumped for Barcelona!) so I thought it would be a good idea to get a trim. I grabbed my keys and headed off walking for the barber shop.

This is the third time I've been to this particular barber shop. I even have a "usual" at this place...he is, of course, my barber "guy". He's a Bangladeshi guy who calls me "Boss" (something he calls all of his customers) and talks pretty much non-stop the whole time in an English-Arabic hybrid that is mildly understandable. I think it's a great place because I can get a shave and a trim all for around $6.50. That being said, I've never had the same thing happen any of the times that I've been...and this time was no exception.

The guy works alone, so I got to the place around 8:30 pm expecting to see a few people waiting, only to find that there was another barber there. Already things were different than last time. I of course got called by the new guy and we began. The regular guy was nice enough to let the new guy know my normal "do" and shaving style in a language that I can only guess was a mix of English, Arabic, and Bangladeshi. I am amazed by this because the guy remembers my "usual" from the first time that I came in. One time and BOOM, he's got it. Incredible...(digressing).

The haircut was pretty normal, with the exception of the brutality my scalp endured at the hands of that man's comb. It was the shave that got kinda strange. First of all, they lather you up with this gel and then just kinda let it sit. They then take a straight razor and light it on fire with rubbing alcohol. Obviously, this is sanitizing the razor...thanks, man. He begins the shave, which is nice enough. He finishes and washes the excess gel off and I'm thinking, "This is where dude stopped last time, so it must be time up..." I start to get up, but he gives me the barber pressure on the head, which means sit down and stay still. "Alright..." I then experience one of the most awkward (and honestly kinda painful) skin treatments I've ever had.

He rubs this pink lotion on my face which smells like banana yoplait...and just kinda leaves it there. I also want to note how close to my nostrils this lotion is applied...like basically inside. He thankfully washes it off...which I again, foolishly, think is the end. He then grabs this stuff that looks kinda like spicy deli mustard. I can feel the harsh pellets in the lotion and immediately think, "oh no...not ex-foliation..." But oh yes. He not only rubs it in, he GRINDS it in. This goes on for literally 5 (PAINFUL) minutes. I begin to wonder if he's just having some fun with the white guy...a paranoia that I feel a lot here...but the guys behind him are just chatting like it's totally normal.

When this is mercifully over, he steps away for a moment. I start to get up, but for the third time, he makes me sit so he can finish: some water on the hair and beard, an impromptu scalp massage that made me see stars a little bit, and then the styling of my new "do" so that I look like a "Top Gun" pilot...(Ice Man, of course). He gestures for me to get up, with a flick of his apron for good measure. A little anxious to leave before he changes his mind, I pay the man and bail. On the way out I glanced down at my watch and realized that I had been there for an hour and 15 minutes. Wow.

So the obvious question is why I allow myself to be tortured like this...and I think the answer is that I really do enjoy getting a shave and all that along with the haircut. In a place like this where there's such an emphasis on how you look, it's interesting that so cheap to get someone else to groom you. Anyway, I'll keep going back to my slightly insane barber just for the experience...plus it's a great haircut.

Vicariously yours,

in which i find two things interesting...

My students consistently amaze me. On Sundays (the Tuesday equivalent) I have 7th grade and then 10th grade for the last two periods of the day. One of my 7th graders was having a particularly rough day, and I had asked him to speak to me after class (cliché, I know). The bell rang and the student waited for me by the door while I talked to some of my students who are insisting that they should get a 100% just for their effort ["Yes, I realize you spelled your name correctly, but I can't give you extra points for that."] In the mean time, another student who seems to believe that his purpose on this Earth is to make other people's lives a living hell decided it would be a good time to mess with him. This resulted in a fight and all sorts of ridiculous shenanigans. Keep in mind this is a teacher's nightmare...fight between 7th graders + class change + 10th graders milling about with the middle schoolers = disaster waiting to happen.

Surprisingly, a brawl did not break out...but what did happen is what surprised me. One of the 10th graders checked on the 7th grader. Not related. Just...checked to make sure he was okay. Wow. I found out later that the 7th grader is cousins with his friend, but still. It always interests me how loyal these guys are to their respective groups. I honestly haven't seen anything like this in the States. They really are totally invested in each other's lives and in a mostly positive way (as far as I've seen). This doesn't ignore the fact that they still give the other groups crap in a way that is like a much more animated nerds vs. jocks thing in the US. But hey, I'll take it.

On a lighter note, I learned today that there are three different ways to say "passing gas" in Arabic. And yes, of course, two of the three describe the type you're experiencing. "Taq'a" is a loud one with no or little smell. "Faswa" is a SBD (silent, but deadly). The name for passing gas in general is not without hilarity as it is "atlaq alreeh" which literally translated means "fire the gas"...that's right...as in out of a canon. Here endeth the lesson.

You're welcome.

Vicariously yours,

in which i stop whining and get a life.

Please forgive my long absence on the blog, but I've been pretty miserable here for a little while. I thought it would be better for me to not blog rather than overload the blog with a bunch of really ridiculously sad panda-esque things. But I'm back.

Sad panda is sad.

I won't bog us down by going into why I was so miserable too much. That's really not important. As a teacher, long stretches without a break are difficult enough, but it's a lot harder far aways from home. But ultimately, I was doing a lot of nothing and wishing I was somewhere else. As you can imagine, that's not exactly uplifting.

As I often do when I'm grumpy and homesick, I called (skyped, gchatted, whatever) my sister. I am blessed with two siblings that happen to be my best friends and life is more difficult not being able to get in touch with them whenever I want...but ANYWHO...I began Whinestock '11 and was really getting into the pitypalooza I was throwing. My sister, of course, was having none of it:

"I just can't do anything like what I did at home!"

"Welp...you need to find something new to do then."

Curse you and your demon logic, woman!

After Whinestock '11 got rained out by tropical storm Sister, I proceeded to think about what I had been doing this whole time. A few things came to mind...primarily eating, sleeping, watching TV, and playing video games. I realized that not only was I boring myself to death, but I had almost no energy and didn't sleep very well...which translated to having no patience at school...which translated to bad teaching days...which made me grumpy and perpetuated the cycle. So it was time to make some changes...

Before I look like this guy...(Bahahaha at this)

So I cut some stuff out of my diet (or at least I'm keeping them to a minimum) and I'm actually doing something active every day for an hour. I'm also reading a little bit everyday. I'm pretty impressed at how well I'm keeping up on all this stuff. I normally set up a goal for like 2 days and then quit. But it's been (one week since you looked at me...) about 10 days and I'm still going strong. I have more energy at school, I feel better in general, and I am actually getting stuff done that I want to do. I still have time to watch TV and play video games, but I make sure it's not the only thing I do.

So who cares? Well, this is something that I realize about myself everytime I move somewhere strange and new. I have to hate it first. It was that way in Kuwait. It was that way in Georgia. It is that way in KSA. But the reason is because I'm so focused backwards. I think about home and only home, and never really put myself where I am. I keep thinking this is a temporary thing. I mean sure we're not gonna live in Saudi forever, but we're here now. This is where we live and this is what we're doing for at least two years.

In the end, I was miserable here because I didn't have a life. I sat around and wished I was back in Nashville, which only made me sad and grumpy. I realized today that a life was really what I needed. Now that I've got one, I can stop whining and actually enjoy myself. So pass the shawarma and let's do this thang.

Vicariously yours,

in which I eat lunch with an Egyptian, a Syrian, and a Tunisian

Okay, so I'm using the word "lunch" about as loosely as one can. As most schoolfolk around the world do, we eat basically whenever we can, which sometimes means 8ish or 9ish AM. At my current school, it's even more sporadic because we don't necessarily have the same lunch hour everyday. So there's not a table that I go to with the same teachers everyday. At first it was kind of annoying, but I've grown to really enjoy eating with whoever is around. It has led me to some pretty interesting conversations and gastronomical adventures.

Things I have learned/observed/discovered while eating lunch with my co-workers:

1.) Fool: While the images of fool I could find on Google made it appear far too much like cat food, it is one of the most delicious things I've had in the Middle East. It is, as one of my co-workers told me, kind of like hummus for breakfast. It's basically fava beans that has been mashed up, spiced up, heated up, and then doused in olive oil (as is everything here, and yes, I'll get to that) and served with bread for dipping. There are different styles, primarily Jordanian and Egyptian, but one thing is for sure: It. Is. Awesome. The only problem with fool is that you immediately want to take an hour long nap after you eat it. But I literally cannot help myself.

2.) Bread and cheese combinations: Oh man, do they love this one. Now, when I say bread and cheese, I mean any kind of bread, and any kind of cheese. I have seen everything from sliced white bread with american cheese (plain, ew) to hand-baked bread with a kind of delicious goat cheese melted in the middle. Most of the teachers that bring their lunch have some fruit (usually an apple) and two what I can only describe as hoagie rolls filled with either a crumbly cheese or the laughing cow stuff (or as it's called here and I think everywhere else, "la vache qui rit"). The two reasons that I have observed for this are: 1.) it's cheap and 2.) it's tasty. Khalass. (finished)

3.) I have never seen so many grown men drinking juice boxes. (I think that one is self-explanatory)

One can only assume it's their love of soccer that explains the juice boxes and orange slices.

4.) The absolute BEST olive oil in the WORLD comes from Jordan and Palestine: Just so you know. I was eating some hummus and pita from our "canteen" (catered cafeteria booth) and enjoying it with the normal oil that's on it when one of my Jordanian co-workers (who actually went to TSU...which is an odd coincidence) told me this fact. I told him that I had never had it. Suddenly, I grew a set of antlers...or I must have for the way that he looked at me. He then shot up to his little cubby and proceded to drown my hummus in his secret stash of Jordanian olive oil. All nationalist pride aside...the olive oil from Jordan is pretty much amazing. I even asked a colleague who was travelling to Jordan to bring me back some...it's real good.

5.) Arabs love to share food: My favorite thing to tease my colleagues about is the way they care so much about gaining weight. "You have to only eat vegetables..." "I used to run 12 kilometers a day..." "These pants used to fit..." Southern women got nothing on Arab men. The number one thing I heard when I got here was "You'll gain weight here...maybe...10 kilos..." The main culprit for them is kabse (a rice and grilled chicken dish that sounds deceptively healthy). However, I think it's because they offer whatever they have to anyone who is around. And they INSIST that you eat it. And EVERYONE does it. So you might have 3 half lunches...that's a lot of food! I was chatting with an Egyptian colleague when he bought some fool from the canteen and extra bread for us to share. Then a Syrian co-worker came up and started to dig in after it was offered to him. Then HE bought an order of fool and expected us to eat his as well. So by the time we were done, I had eaten about 1.5 containers of fool. I was in the food coma danger zone...at like 9:45 AM. I have been offered a half of a cucumber, cookies, tons (literally) of bread, all of the tea in China...it got to the point where I felt that I needed to avoid the teacher workroom so that I didn't become the world's fattest man. People never realize from the news or movies how giving and gracious Arabs are. It is one of the things that makes them the most hospitable people on the planet. The greatest thing about this though is that it's made me more generous with my stuff. Always a good thing to develop.

6.) An understanding of the Arab world that I could never get from a newspaper or book: I'm sure that this elicits a forehead smacking "duh!" from most of you, but I had no idea about some of the stuff going on in these countries. Like the unemployment riots in Tunisia that are going on now...I work with several Tunisians who explained why they live and work in KSA and it has a lot to do with the employment situation there. In Egypt, President Mubarak just got "re-elected"...again. It's a similar political situation in Tunisia. Seeing the pain in someone's eyes as they talk about how things are in their home countries makes what I read about in the news resonate with me. It's become something that I want to know about...I have news feeds on Google News for Jordan, KSA, Tunisia, and Egypt. But the most amazing thing is the way these guys are so resilient. A lot of them live here while their wives and kids are back in their home countries. They're all committed to working with these kids and making them great students while still having to juggle their long distance marriages and fatherhoods. Amazing.

And to think I got all this over fool and a juice box...

Vicariously yours,

in which I explode

I have a delightfully short temper. Anyone who's watched me compete at anything or play video games knows this. To ride in a car with me is to fully understand what is meant by road rage. My temper has led to embarrassing situations...like destroying a hockey stick in 7th grade when my team lost a totally inconsequential floor hockey game in PE...or the time I destroyed my hand during a whiffle ball game at summer camp (I was a counselor). I tell you this to let you know the work I had to put into getting my temper under control when I became a teacher. I don't lose it as a teacher, and I've worked very hard to maintain that zen-like state that you have to be in to teach middle school.

Pictured: My mind during class.

But then I started working here. Saudi students have a very different idea of what it means when a teacher is stern with them. In the states I was able to be stern with a look or verbal warning. However, I rarely raised my voice and I NEVER got angry loud. You know angry loud...when the veins in your neck feel like they're literally about to pop and your voice cracks because you're trying to squeeze every decibel that your body can muster through your larynx...yeah, that angry loud. Well...angry loud is what these students expect when you're being firm with them. I had seen it from other teachers, saw that it worked, and immediately decided that I would never do that. Then today, I lost it.

Note to self: never google image search "explosion" in the Middle East...

I think it's enough to say that it was uncomfortable. My voice is still scratchy. More than anything that this says about my temper, I think that this explosion really highlights the difference in my students. These students are just...well, more stubborn. They'll never let you have the courtesy that American students give you of "you're the teacher and we'll at least acknowledge that you're in charge here". You are constantly earning their respect and they will test you every minute that you're working with them. Being in a boys' school means that everyone is out to be the alpha...even more so with Arabs (trust me, I married one). I have to be on my toes though...and that makes me be a good teacher every day. That's the whole point right? Ah...the adventures of teaching in the Kingdom.

As far as I'm concerned, I don't plan on exploding again...I didn't enjoy it much. I even apologized to the student (though he's still in the wrong). Teachers and (I'm guessing) parents among you will understand the feeling after a conflict where you wonder if you did the right thing and all that business. It sucks...but that time spent considering your actions and reviewing for next time is essential to being a good leader...or alpha in my case. Anyway, it's back to zen for me, thanks.

Vicariously yours,