So sorry to belabor the whole waiting game bit. However, it is becoming quite old. It seems like I have gone from frenzied nonstop getting ready to go overseas to a screeching halt of inactivity. I'm not quite certain how to handle the time I have on my hands. And, I'm tired. I don't know why. I just am tired. Perhaps it's the heat, perhaps it's the unmeasured time, perhaps it's the continual worry and wonder of where I will be, and when I will be there. Perhaps it's the whole culture shock of not quite knowing how things work here. One thing I have learned is that our pushy western ways will not work.
Patience, I keep telling myself. Live in the moment. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy knowing that I don't have to make my bed. That breakfast will be served. That the beautiful pool will be cool and refreshing... but then, those nagging thoughts break in...but, will my apartment be approved? Will our advance come through? Will I have enough money to get through? Will I have to wash my unders in the tub again? And, just what exactly am I going to do on the first day of school? Will I have supplies? Will I have resources? Will I have books? WILL I FREAK OUT AND LOSE MY COOL AND GET DEPORTED?? Will I love my school? Will I get along with my Emirate colleagues? Will my principal like me? Will I teach 1st grade? Will I be able to teach a classroom full of boys?
I love boys! Of course I will be able to teach a bunch of boys. I am a veteran teacher. I have experience on my side. I have training. I know best practices. I know assessment. I know how to know what kids know. I know how to figure out what they need to know. I know how to scaffold the learning. I can feel the worry and the tension literally flow out of my fingers as I write all of my "I knows."
I can do this. I am a survivor. I ask questions when I don't know. I am a watcher and a lifelong learner. I will be fine.
Yesterday, my friend, my adopted daughter, my colleague and my navigator, Michelle, and I rented a car. I believe it was the last car available from that particular car rental agency. We were so fortunate because Michelle actually put out email feelers to a variety of agencies and the one fellow that called to provide information was American. He was even from Michigan! Yay! This helps with the language barrier. Sometimes I get so exhausted carrying this wide eyed lifted eyebrow expression on my face. It's the face that says, "Huh? I think I got most of that conversation, but I'm quite certain I totally lost the most important clause or phrase that is going to cost me grief in the form of money down the road." Perhaps if I open my eyes wider I will be able to see and understand better. Perhaps if I just listen "harder" I can understand everything. Sometimes, it's exhausting. Maybe, just maybe, that's why I'm tired.
And so, we rented a car. I took a deep breath, said a prayer and got in behind the wheel. Yikes! Right away panic set in. I didn't fit very well. The seat was too far forward, the steering wheel too low. I immediately longed for my Dodge Caravan. The AC blew warm air. Immediately, I began chanting, "I hate this car, I hate this car, I hate this car, I hate this car, I hate this car!" Poor Michelle, she saw the maniac woman in me emerge. I ordered her to call them back get an upgrade, and began a tirade of everything that was wrong. The poor girl, she was at my mercy, by this time I was moving into traffic. She had no choice but to do as I said. So very calmly she requested an upgrade with my ranting in the background. Sorry madam, we won't have any upgrades available until Sunday after the holiday, more cars will be returned. Perhaps we could just bear with it until then. In other words, suck it up, Sheri.
And so, by this time, other drivers were already requesting that I allow them to move in front of me. No problem. We got to the end of the block made a U turn and entered the parking entrance for the mall across the street. A security guard actually motioned us into a spot directly in front of the mall. SW-EET! Until we were ready to leave after our shopping spree. A van was blocking our way. The poor fellow sitting in the van tried to no avail to move the van. He didn't know how to drive a manual. So we waited. Eventually, a driver in the car behind us waiting to get out jumped in and moved the van. With a seven point turn, I made it out to the tune of taxi toots and beeps behind me. Inshallah.
With more prayers, a reminder mantra of "I love my car, I love my car," patient directions from Michelle and only one extra lap around the block due to me missing the hotel entrance on a one-way street, we made it back, handed the keys over to the valet and entered the safety and security of our beloved Beach Rotana Hotel. We were greeted by our smiling doorperson and our beautiful lobby. Ah, hotel sweet hotel.
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