Bucket List

Seeing the pyramids was high on my bucket list, and today I checked it off.


Extraordinary doesn't begin to describe how magnificent these structures are, but I'm getting ahead of myself.


I was picked up at 9:00, with our first stop being the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities.  It is the largest collection of over 5000 years of art, including paintings, sculptures, artifacts, and most impressive of all, King Tut's tomb and treasures. Some of the pieces were massive.  We were not allowed to take pictures inside.


Side note - When I was in Atlanta a few years ago, I visited a traveling King Tut Exhibition.  Although it was grand and there were exceptionally beautiful pieces, when I saw the slideshow showing how those pieces were obtained - by robbing the tomb/gravesite - I couldn't get out of there fast enough.  It was like I was a part of the gravediggers by supporting this.  I didn't have that reaction this time.  Somehow, displaying these treasures on Egyptian soil takes the sting away from how they were discovered and obtained.

Egyptian Museum of Antiquities

Side View - Egyptian Museum of Antiquities

The intricacies of the designs carved and painted into the sculptures and artifacts is breathtaking.  The colors - so bright and distinct.  The gold layered wooden objects, still intact after all these years.

Walking among items that you know are thousands of years old, tends to put the years we typically live on this earth into perspective.  

Next, we're off to see the pyramids, but we make a stop at a papyrus shop/museum to see how this ancient paper is made.  It was mesmerizing.  The papyrus plant is used.  It looks like sugar cane with a flower at the top of it.  It has three sides and when you look at a cross section of the bottom, it looks like a pyramid.  Depending on the size of the paper you're making, you cut the stalk the desired length, skin it, and slice it length-wise.  Then you use a rolling pin and mash them flat.  Next, they're layered in water to extract most of the sugar out of it.  Some is left in because the sugar acts as a natural glue. Then they are taken out of the water and weaved - crisscross - like a mat.  Lastly, they're put in a press and mashed again.  The final product is a paper so resilient - you can write on it and water washes it away.  You can roll it up or ball it up, and it's still OK.  To get it flat again, you can put it back on the press or iron it with a regular iron used for clothes. Amazing! 

I found this video that demonstrates the process.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9el1VJqIgw

As we're driving to the pyramids, I'm curious about the city landscape.  There are 22 million people that live in Cairo, so it's a big city.  There are miles and miles of dark red and brownish-gray high rises. Many parts of the city look and feel very old. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of the high-rises are not finished because if the folks leave it unfinished, they don't have to pay taxes on the property.  It creates an abandoned look to the homes.  

Many other parts of the city looks neglected.  There were no kind words spoken about the former Mubarak Regime, but they have high hopes for the current president.  Both of the men I was with today participated in the revolution.  They're also both 31, Ben's age.

Burned building right next to Egyptian Museum of Antiquities.
It was left standing as a monument to the struggle.

And now . . . 

The pyramids!

The city - high-rises and businesses - are right across the street from them.  

The pyramids are behind me.

The panoramic view is from the back side where you have to drive a mile or so in the desert, then turn around and there they are - MAGNIFICENT!  I just did a Wikipedia search and discovered they are one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and the oldest.

Me in front of the largest pyramid

Looking up at the largest pyramid

Tiny specks in red are people walking along the bottom layer of rocks.

Me in front of panoramic view

Then, as you're leaving the area, you come across the majestic Sphinx.

Sphinx!

Me in front of the Sphinx

Hanee, the tour guide in front of the Shinx

Finally, a word about driving in Cairo.  It is not for the faint of heart.  Two things caught my eye.  First, the majority of the cars on the road are at least 10 years old, and they all seem to be scratched or dented.  Here's why (I'm guessing) - the drivers create lanes.  The roads/streets, with the exception of one very short span, do not have painted lanes.  Most of the way home, cars were seven abreast on a road that looked like it was designed for three lanes.  I could have literally shaken hands with the folks in the cars next to us.  Another interesting thing - OK, that's three - the roads/street didn't have traffic lights.  Folks kind of governed themselves.  It was a sight to see.  Traffic was back-up for days as there were three cars that were being pushed or tended to because they had broken down.  Bravely, men were walking through the moving traffic like it was standing still.

Last word, promise.

There are horse-drawn fruit and vegetable carts, covered motorcycles that seat four, and women who balanced large loads on their heads.  I hope to get pictures of these later this week.

I know this was a lot.  If you made it until now, bless you.

View outside my hotel room.
There is a buffet to break the evening fast for Ramadan.

Inshal'Allah (God willing), more soon.

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Greetings from Egypt!

Just arrived a couple of hours ago, and just got settled into my room for the night.

I was met at the airport, with a guy holding a sign with my name on it.  I felt pretty important.  Thankfully, he facilitated getting my visa, was with me through the passport checkpoints, and for the hourlong wait in getting my luggage.  Then we were off to the hotel, about 15 minutes from the airport.

The people are very friendly and helpful here at the hotel, but the folks at the airport were pretty aggressive.  I appreciated having someone to lead the way.

The day begins at 9:00am tomorrow, so I'm off to bed.

Wait.  One more thing.

Ramadan, the monthlong fasting for Muslims, began yesterday, so I was curious to see whether there would be food available at the airport.  I was told that all restaurants and food shops closed their doors from before sunup to sundown.  This is done so that the smell of food wouldn't be enticing for those fasting.  That was not the case at Dubai Airport.  Everything was open as usual.  It will be interesting to see how it is observed here in Cairo.

More soon.

 

Fame - Who Decides?

What makes someone or something popular/successful?

Why is it that some works of art - famous pieces - look like something a toddler painted, and yet the pieces are worth millions of dollars?  Who decides what's good or not? Why does their opinion count more than mine?  Or yours?

Why are famous folks famous?  Who decided their fame or status?  We the viewing public?  Or their public relations team?

What makes some recording artists, who are mediocre at best, become top sellers, when other folks with extraordinary talent are left watching from the sidelines?

Why are some books best sellers, when there are so many others, better written, better put together, that hardly get noticed?

This last question is especially relevant because I'm reading a best seller, the first of a trilogy, that has been on the best sellers list for weeks/months now.  It's Fifty Shades of Grey.

There's been a lot of buzz about it.  Of course, it's banned from the bookstores here.

I had seen it for a while on Amazon, but every time I thought about buying it, I do what I always do when purchasing something, I read the reviews.  What is/was tantalizing about the reviews for this book is that of the 6000 plus folks who wrote one, 3500 thought the book was great, and 2500 thought it was trash.

I'm about half way through the first volume, and if I wrote a review now, mine would definitely be leaning toward the later group.

In a nutshell, the book is about this gazillionaire who makes an indecent proposal to a young, naive, recent college graduate.  We're seen and heard the story before, so you can get the gist of where it's headed.

What makes this story different though, is that it involves kinky sex, of the very kinky kind. Bondage and such.

OK.  I confess.  I like trashy romance novels where I imagine I'm the woman getting all of the attention from the handsome dude, and we ride off into the sunset.

Yes, it's pretty pathetic, but there it is.  The truth of the matter.

What I can't wrap my head around is someone tying someone else up for their jollies.

That's just too freaky for me.

First sign of a rope, handcuffs, duct tape - whatever - I'm outta there.

So, I'm struggling with this book.  I'll finish it, just cause.  But relating to it on a personal level . . . no, no . . . in fact, hell no.

Now, I'm guessing you're in one or two camps - those who agree that kinky is crazy and won't touch it, or those who disagree, or maybe now you're just a wee bit curious, and you're rushing off to buy it.

Look for it in the hardware aisle, next to the rope and duct tape.

Online Dating & Gay Marriage

No, I'm not gay.

Yes.  I'm sure you went there when you read the title.  These are just two topics on my mind today.

First, online dating.

As I mentioned in one of my earlier postings, I tried it for a six-week run, years ago, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.  In fact, running home at night to check my account to see if it generated any interest, felt like homework.

And who wants homework?

The reason I gave this a try at all is because dear friends of mine have found, and married, wonderful men they met through online dating services.  So, I figured if it happened for them, it could happen for me.

It didn't.

The fact that no one I "met" was interested in a face-to-face, not even for coffee, was the first clue to the ultimate demise of this dating adventure.

But, at least I can say I tried.

I figured this was the problem - it's hard to reduce how wonderful I am to a statement or two.  I need volumes to share all of this awesomeness.

OK.  Stop laughing.

Really.  Stop.

And for those of you who might be tempted to feel sorry for me, don't.  I'm having the time of my life.  The only reason this has even crossed my mind lately is because I've seen a lot of commercials for various online dating sites.

And yes, I'm a sucker for ads.  Always have been.  So was my Momma.   Must be genetic.

Now, to gay marriage.

I just read this charming account of two guys, one active duty military, who were just married, on base.  They were married before and each of them has two kids. They are both Christian and were raised in the church, and tried for years to deny who they were.  When they did come out, after the dismantling of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," they initially lost everything - wives and kids, parents and church affiliations. In time, folks came around, and new friends joined their circle.

The full story can be found on the Salon website.  The link follows.

http://www.slate.com/articles/life/the_wedding/2012/07/erwynn_umali_and_will_behrens_the_first_gay_wedding_on_a_military_base_.single.html.

In spite of all the negative people and negative circumstances they encountered and endured, their love for each other prevailed.

I'm happy for this couple.  These gay men who married, strangers to me.  I'm happy they had a choice, and that we're in a place in America where they could step out and make their choice known to the world.

Letter

I stumbled upon this intriguing letter from an ex-slave to his former master.  I was struck by his positive tone, even when he mentions some unspeakable hardships.

http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory/text-slaves-letter-master-16778818#.UAP_uI5n_BI

Glitz vs. Grit

Yesterday I was in Dubai.  This is the first time I've driven there.  I was ready with my GPS coordinates set, so at least it knew where I was going.

As I approached the city, I could see the Burj Khalifa (the tallest building in the world), in the distance. It was a very hazy day, so most everything else was hidden behind the clouds.  Actually, I'm not sure if it was clouds or sand causing the haze in the sky.  Either way, whatever it was, resulted in the visibility being very limited.

I was there to finalize one of my summer trips.

One of the things that was most striking to me, was the grittiness of this part of the city.  I had to remind myself often that this was, in fact, Dubai - the land of all things glitzy.

But then I remembered, I shouldn't have been surprised by these findings because in every big city, there is the section that doesn't make it in the tourist guide books as places to see and things to do.  And so it is with Dubai.  It takes a whole lot of folks to shine the gold and silver and to keep all of the marble sparkling.

As I've mentioned before, there are less than 10 million people here, but only 2 million, or 20% of the population, are Emiratis.  Almost everyone else is in place to serve them in some capacity or other.  (Just looked it up - The actual numbers listed for population is 7.5 million, again with roughly 80% of that number being expats). Of the expats, most are from neighboring countries and almost all are Arab. This latest school reform has brought in the most Westerners, and those who follow Christianity.

It is the folks who live and work in the service industries that are not treated well, at all.

I have been asked again and again, about the treatment of women here.  For the most part, very well.  However, those women who make up the service industry, not so good.  They are the cooks, nannies, house cleaners, etc.

There are many more expat men than women because of the job market.  More men are needed for the incredible amount of building that has happened and continues to happen.  Yesterday, I saw construction sight, after construction sight, with cranes looming high above on seemingly every block.  You don't see that much building on the glitzy side of town, but it appears they are extending their reach throughout the city.

Side note - In the slides of typical single family homes that I included a few days ago, please note that these are in fact, typical.  Remember, family sizes are much larger here.  It is not unusual for a family to have 8-10 kids.  (This is commonly referred to as "nation building"). The houses in the slides look like the ones across the street from my school.

Tomorrow I'm headed to Abu Dhabi, to get dolled up for my travels.

Insha'Alla (God willing), more soon.

Side note 2 - Every conversation begins and ends with Insha'Allah or Alhamdulilah (praise God).

Homes in the UAE

Take a look at this slide show of single family homes in the UAE.

http://www.thenational.ae/news/uae-news/in-pictures-villa-architecture-of-the-northern-emirates

Really Cool Car

Check this out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=jZKWl34N3O0

Last Day of School

Yeah!

We made it!

The teachers couldn't leave fast enough.  That is, for the ones who showed up at all. Of the 17 Western teachers, we know 8 will not be returning.  There was little motivation for them to show up.

Most of the teachers will be leaving the country tonight or tomorrow.  It will be a mass exodus.

New teachers will be arriving all summer, with a really big group coming in August.

After spending all day in a meeting (on the last day of school - really???), I'm thrilled to have this time off, and will spend this first week resting before I, too, get on the road again.

More soon.

Shopping

I'm one of those rare women who don't like to shop.  Not for food, clothes, etc. Being raised with guys, and then having guys - I think that's why the shopping gene just passed me by.

I made an appointment to get my hair done after school, to get out all of the remnants of our Cultural Day celebration.  There was still some of the tomato saucy perfume that was spread all around my face and well into my hair.

Me at Cultural Day festivities
in a burka, wearing a shayla, holding a watering jug.
Yes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

The hair salon is right behind a grocery store.  I needed a couple of things, but found myself just wandering around in there.  Probably because I was hungry.

Note to self - You know better.  NEVER shop hungry.

Anyway, I didn't heed that advice and picked up a dutch apple loaf cake that looked really good.

First hint this was a mistake - it was displayed next to fruitcakes.  It is universally known, fruitcakes are awful.

Second hint - the expiration date on it was February 2020.

Yes, you read that right.  The year 2020.

And, brilliant woman that I am, in spite of these glaring warning signs, I bought the cake.

When I opened the package it was hard as a brick on the top.  Too hard for a sharp knife to cut.  No, it was not frozen.  It was, in fact, at room temperature.  I noticed the bottom of it wasn't quite as hard, so I turned it over and sawed my way through it and cut off a slice.

Third hint this purchase was a mistake - any cake, bread, or cake-like food that is hard as a brick, should be chucked IMMEDIATELY.

Of course, I didn't do that.  instead, I popped that slice in the toaster, and the aroma coming from it convinced me it was f-i-n-e.

It wasn't.

Once out of the toaster, I buttered it,

And

It was still hard as a brick and some of the nastiest food I've ever eaten.

The lessons learned today include, but certainly not limited to, the following:

1)  Stay out of grocery stores when you're hungry

2)  No matter how good something looks in the store, if the expiration is beyond next week, DO NOT buy it

3)  Don't hesitate to throw any food away if it is so hard it could be used as a doorstop.  Exception - melons.

After this experience, I'll think twice before grocery shopping,

And

I will eat BEFORE I shop.

Promise.

Cultural Day

Today the Arab staff treated us to a close up look at some of their customs.

What a treat!

They dressed me in a burka (face mask), with a shayla (head scarf).

Side note - I'm not sure of the spelling of shayla, so I'm spelling it phonetically and hoping for the best.

I was then rubbed with traditional perfume around the sides of my face.  It looked like tomato sauce.  My eyes were lined with a natural black paste that looked like shoe polish.

Yes, it was a sight to see.  Sorry, no pictures yet.  I was having such a good time getting all dolled up, I didn't stop to take pictures.  Lots of teachers took photographs though, so I'm hopeful to get some to share.

There were teachers who brought traditional dishes, and others who brought hot plates and cooked everything there, showing us how to do it.

There was a teepee-looking structure with goat hide hanging from it that was tied at both ends.  The hide contained milk that was being processed into a soft cheese, like cottage cheese.  The substance that was pored out of it looked like a really thick milk - like buttermilk.  I didn't taste it because regular milk upsets my stomach.

There were displays of baskets with fruits and leaves used as spices, teas, and henna.  These baskets were made from dried palm leaves.

There were about six large round mats, also made of dried palm leaves, that were laid on the rug, that was rolled out on the floor, and this is where the dishes were laid.  The food was in super large containers, keeping it warm, and when it was time to eat, they were opened up and everyone picked up a plate, and dished out what they wanted.  There were at least 8-10 folks serving themselves around the container at one time.

There were big clay water jugs, that when filled with water, keeps it cool, even outside in the extreme heat.  I tasted some of the water, and it was cool.

There were examples of the clothes they wear at home - it looked like the abaya (black robe-like outfit), but they were very colorful, contrary to their usual attire.

There were teachers who were wearing different colored shaylas (scarves).  They typically only wear black.  There even was a teacher (Egyptian), whose shayla fell off as she was getting painted with henna and it stayed off.  Her hair was dyed blond with highlights!  We weren't expecting that.  Interestingly, she looked much younger with her hair revealed, which makes me wonder what the others would look like without their shaylas.

There were women who were braiding silk thread that would be used as trim around the collar and/or hem of their garments.  The thread was pinned to an oblong pillow and the pillow sat on the floor in front of them.  The thread was still attached to the spools and they just rolled more off of the spools, as needed.

There was an African woman who was doing the henna painting.  It was very elaborate and intricate.  Beautifully done!  I learned that each country that does henna painting, does it a little differently.  Henna is like nail polish.  You have to wait for it to dry and it takes at least a half an hour.  I had a small area painted, but I'm so dark, you have to strain to see it.

Oftentimes you see the Arab teachers with their fingertips painted in henna, without the fancy designs.  This is the traditional way to wear it in the UAE.  Interestingly, the native females do not wear nail polish because they have to be free of chemicals on their body when they wash for prayer.

Only the Arab teachers were taking pictures because they don't allow you to photograph them uncovered, usually.  That's another reason I didn't take any pictures.  I didn't want to offend, by accidentally taking one of their pictures.

They really did go all out in helping us to see and understand what many of their customs are.  It was a delightful day full of fun and lots and lots of learning.

TED Books!

You all know I love the TED Talks, well I just discovered TED Books.  It is already available for the Kindle, Nook, and iBook platforms, and on July 10th, an app launches for the iPad.

I can't wait.

The Huffington Post article about this is below.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/07/06/ted-books-launches-app_n_1655099.html#slide=1195284

Happy reading!

Can't Get Enough

Sleep.

I've spent the last couple of days catching up on it.  Thankfully, I'm good to go now.

Here's another product plug.  (Seriously, I missed my calling.  I should have been in advertising / sales).  It's for 6-Hour Energy Drink.  A dear friend told me about this, and although I'd seen and heard of it before, I didn't try it until she suggested it.  It works just like it says - you're energized (not crazy jittery though) for six hours with no crashing.  You can find it at almost any kind of store in the US, including Costco, but I buy it from Amazon.

When I searched my phone for the above photo, I found a couple more from my NY visit.  They are below.

Statue of Liberty

Zadie on the ferry after visiting the Statue of Liberty

Side note - I've confirmed my first summer trip.  It's to Cairo, Egypt in a couple of weeks.  It's 3.5 hours by air, so it's relatively close.  Seeing the pyramids is high on my bucket list of things to do.  More on this later.

Side note 2 - I realize getting a US calendar is important for keeping up with the holidays there.  July 4th would have come and gone unnoticed if didn't receive notes from some of you.  Thanks for keeping me in the loop.  

Side note 3 - I just wanted to expand, very briefly, on the post about my brothers a while ago.  I hope I didn't leave you with the impression that there were never any issues between us because there were plenty.  Especially between my youngest brother, Terry (deceased) and I.  In fact, we fought like cats and dogs for years - until we were in our 40's!  It was only when Forrest (brother #2), suggested one of us grow up, and stop this nonsense, that I decided, enough was enough.  It takes two to argue, and it's tough trying to fight alone.  So this "peace, no matter what" revelation marked the beginning of some really great times, and some even greater discussions.

Besides your parents, there's no one who knows you better than your siblings.  If there is strife or contention between you and them, let me encourage you to make amends and settle it TODAY.  Don't make the mistake we made.  I regret the time Terry and I lost fighting, but I'll be forever grateful for the time we had once we got past the craziness.

Until next time . . . 

Hot vs. Very Hot

It was 117 degrees today.  Before you faint from reading these numbers, consider this.  It felt a lot hotter in New York because of the incredibly humid air, where the temperatures hovered around the mid-90's while I was there.  I was sweating like crazy.

I just gotta say, it's hard trying to be cute when you're dripping wet in places I will spare you from mentioning.

In contrast, we had a strong breeze today.  It was hot, no doubt, but it was bearable . . . relatively speaking.

It was good being back at work.  My folks were glad to see me because they thought I might ditch the last few days of school (staff workshops) and stay in the States.  The thought crossed my mind, ever so briefly.

Of course, everyone asked to see pictures of the wedding and my time away.  I should have remembered to take some, but I was too busy chatting with folks and having fun.

I'm paying the piper now.  I was up late again last night, but trying to get back in my rhythm.  This will be short so that I can get to bed early.

A very early goodnight to me, and good morning to you.

Funk in Flight

Picture this -

I've just boarded the last leg of my flight to take me from Milan to Dubai.  I've stored my carryon and I've settled in my seat.

There is a funky smelling odor nearby, but I can't place the origin of it.

     Please allow me to define funky. 

     Sometimes we use the word to describe something or someone who is cool, 

     hip, or has that certain swagger.

     Today I'm using it to describe the strongest, foulest, most disgusting body odor 

     I've experienced in a long time.

Then, the source of that smell walked by.

The odor was gagging bad.

And just as I was feeling sorry for the poor soul he would be sitting by, he came and stood by my seat, indicating he was sitting next to me.

Dear Lord.

I wasn't sure what to do.

I tried holding my breath but I couldn't hold it forever.  I exhaled only to be slapped with another nauseating wave of funk.

I should also mention he was a big guy.  A really big guy.  He sat leaning back with his legs wide open, touching mine, and as much as I tried to move far away, I couldn't escape.  I was being rubbed with the funk, too.

And instead of just laying low and being cool, or as cool as he could be in his funky state, he raised his arms and laid them on the armrest behind his head.

Dear, dear Lord.

That's when the most overwhelming onslaught of funk imaginable nearly took my breath away.

And . . .

To add to this nasal drama, he was fidgety.  He was in constant motion - moving around in his seat, making noise with the ashtray by opening and closing it, and he was playing with the tray table, again and again.

Then he started to pray.

Me, too.

I'm not sure what he was praying about, but I was praying for some fresh air to come my way . . . soon.

At about hour three of a six hour flight, he motioned that he needed to get up.  I assumed he was going to the restroom and would be right back, but he was gone more than an hour.

Thank God!

However, when he came back, he not only reeked of funk, but he had layered that funky smell with a whole lot of cologne (it's available in the restrooms).

Dear, dear, dear Lord.

At this point my only refuge was to turn my face toward the aisle, and stay turned that way, to keep my eyes and nose from burning.

By the way, his clothes were nice.  He didn't look destitute, but he definitely needed to burn what he was wearing.  There is no way that obnoxious smell was ever coming out.

I maintained my position of leaning forward, with my head turned toward the aisle, when he turned on the music on his phone so loud, folks sitting across the aisle could hear it playing, through his headphones.  It must have been deafening for him.

I pulled my iPad out and tried reading to distract myself.

It didn't work.

Thankfully, the flight landed about 30 minutes early, and I rushed off, but I couldn't escape the funk because he was right behind me.  I slowed down, and let him pass, and waited a while, until I was sure it would be safe to breathe again.

And, other than loosing my eyebrows from the blistering funk, it was a great flight.

Whirlwind

It's Sunday morning, and I'm writing this post from Connecticut, where the wedding ceremony for Frankie and Cara was held.

What a beautiful setting!

What a beautiful ceremony!

Although traveling so far to stay just over a week was challenging, it was worth every mile on the road to be a part of this celebration.

Now to some thank you's -

To Frankie & Cara for their warmth and generosity for including me in the festivities

To Cara's family for single-handedly creating a magical day, and for opening up their hearts and homes to people far and wide who shared it

To Ben for doing an amazing job of officiating, and to his wife Lupe who graciously and selflessly helped to keep Zadie entertained throughout a very busy day

To Cara's aunt and her family for opening up their heart and their home to me, providing a beautiful place for me to stay, that proved to be wonderful sanctuary of calmness

To all of the incredible family and friends that I had the opportunity to meet, that I've heard so much about over the years

To Zadie for giving her Grandma Faye lessons in how to party, and

To you, for sharing the happenings in my world through this blog

THANK YOU!

Sights and Sounds of New York City

I'm struck by how different the sounds are here in New York City, compared to my new home in the UAE.

Brooklyn Museum

Frankie & Zadie in front  of Brooklyn Museum

The things I hear coming from outside my window in Brooklyn are varied.

Folks walking by in conversation - English sometimes; Spanish at other times.

Cars driving by.

Cars driving by with loud music blaring - sometimes hip hop, other times Spanish.

Dogs barking.

Police sirens.

Ambulances.

Planes going by.

On the subway, there are even more sounds.

Subway Sign for Coney Island

The rumbling of the subway trains as they weave in and out of neighborhoods carrying the masses.

Where is everyone going?

I listen to the conversations and chatter among the riders.

They're in English, Spanish, Chinese, Russian (maybe), French, etc.

What a melting pot.

What a city!

My favorite sounds of all though, are the sounds that Zadie makes.

Zadie at the New York Aquarium

Hearing her beginning to talk.

Hearing her laughter, and squeals when she's excited.

Hanging out  with Grandma Faye

Hearing her voice her opinion, sometimes rather forcefully, warms my heart.  It may be a challenge for her parents now, but her strong will will serve her well when she grows up and is facing situations where she'll need to stand up for herself.

Already a shopper

I'm confident she will do just fine.

She and I have been hanging out, having a great time.  Today we went back to Coney Island, and this time visited the New York Aquarium.  There were lots of preschool kids there on field trips, so Zadie had lots of company about her age.

Ready for the  road

Tomorrow, we're scheduled to visit Ellis Island.

There is no better way to experience the sights and sounds of New York, than with my girl Zadie Faye.

Random Traveling Observations

I arrived in New York on Friday afternoon.  It's great being back in the states.


I jotted these thoughts down during the time I was waiting for my flights, on the plane and on the layover in Italy.
  
Very few folks were in national dress; there were a couple of women in abayas & burkas, and they were with guys in shorts and t-shirts.

Dubai airport = spectacular!

PDA (public display of affection) = rarely seen in UAE, but evident in airport with some Arabs couples

The passenger scooter (that rides folks through the airport) sounds like chirping birds when the driver blows the horn alerting folks he's nearby.

What's the story with balding guys who have beards.  Are they trying to divert our attention from their heads to their faces?

Just saw a young white kid with cornrows.  Why?

At 2:00 in the morning, it has cooled down to 91 degrees.

My cab driver from Al Ain to Dubai was Pakistani and very knowledgeable about world affairs.

I'm seeing more blonds than I've seen since I arrived here in November.

Women of color can get away with not wearing makeup; our white sisters, not so much.

There are lots of little kids - bright eyed and bushy tailed at 2:30 in the morning.

Guys in pink make a statement.  It's that they are sure of their masculinity.

Have you ever looked at someone who looked youthful until they turned around? Have I become that person?

Comb overs - who are these guys fooling, other than themselves?

What is it with folks, including my kinfolks and one of my teachers - with not combing their hair?  What about the ones who do comb it but they work hard to make it look messy?  Who decided that was attractive?  If a combed head is old fashion, consider me real old.

Announcements given in three languages on the flight to Milan:  Arabic, English & Italian

Flight attendants' uniforms are regal.  They are worn with great pride by the Emirates Airline Crew.

Shocking how rude many of the passengers are to the flight attendants; it seems everyone (ok maybe not everyone) expects someone to wait on them; it is certainly strikingly evident in these parts.

A young lady fainted on plane.

There are some people who just naturally respond well in an emergency. The thing is, you have no idea how you'll respond until you find yourself in a critical situation.

I changed seats on the Milan to New York leg of the trip, so that a family with young kids could sit together.  I ended up sitting next to an extraordinarily interesting your man, who at just 25 years of age, had traveled the world.  Chatting with him certainly helped to make the time go by faster.


We arrived in New York almost an hour ahead of time!  


That extra time was spent waiting to get through customs though.  


That was OK, it was just good being back.


More soon.

Shackle Sneakers . . . REALLY???

 This is my second double post in as many days, but this is too outrageous not to share.

Shackled sneakers?

What's the intended message here?

Who is it geared to?

Who thought this was a good idea?

Apparently a whole lot of folks for it to get to market.

Note the picture at the bottom of the article.

Kudos to the Huffington Post . . . again.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/18/adidas-shackle-sneakers-controversy_n_1605661.html#s=1109374

A Hamburger Photoshoot

This captivating article was discovered in the Huffington Post today answering the question of why burgers look different in ads than they do in real life.  Be sure to check out the video.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/20/mcdonalds-advertising-behind-the-scenes_n_1611841.html

Juneteenth

Today is Juneteenth, the day that the end of slavery was announced in Texas.

Now . . .  a little history lesson for you and me.

President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, 1862.  It went into effect on January 1, 1863, but it took almost six months (June 19th) for the word to get to Texas.  Or maybe it took that long for it to be acknowledged.

Who knows?

Anyway, Black folks have been celebrating this day, in some form or fashion, ever since.

The celebration in Sacramento always included sweet potato pie.

Have a slice for me.

Paparazzi And Random Thoughts

Today I got a microscopic sense of what famous folks go through when cameras were flashing everywhere at an end-of-year celebration meeting I attended.

Cameras are huge in this culture, which is interesting because so many of the women cover up completely when the cameras come out.  However, be that as it may, every thing that is done, socially, in business, in their personal lives, etc., is captured and preserved on camera.

There was an Emirati gentleman who is a local/national "star," who was in attendance at this meeting.  Hence, the extraordinary presence of photographers.

Now to the random thoughts -

How many guys are needed to change a tire?  Apparently five, as there were that many on the side of the road, doing just that.  To be fair, they were young guys in national dress.  Changes are, changing tires is not something they've had a lot of experience doing.

Today I saw high school boys walking near their school.  This is the first time I've seen kids walking anywhere near a school.  As I've mentioned before, we have students who live across the street from our school, who ride the bus.  We went on a field trip that was a block away.  Yes.  We went by bus.

5th Grade Girls on field Trip to Cycle 2 & 3 (C2-3) School
(C2-3 = 6th thru 12 grade)

Speaking of buses, the 11 that service our school are still making their daily runs, but the students have stopped coming.  This Thursday is the official last day of school, but they stopped coming several weeks ago.  This is a cultural phenomena that we're trying to change.

I remember something a dear friend used to say - change is usually evolutionary, not revolutionary. 

So true.

Side note - The video below is of students performing at the 5th grade girls promotion ceremony.

The temperature continues to climb staggeringly high.  It was 111 at 6:00 pm yesterday.  Oftentimes there is a strong breeze, but the air is so hot, it feel like a fan is blowing air from an oven.

Anything under 105 is considered a cold front!

I've only recently begun using sunscreen, but I'm a faithful user now.

Final word -

Recent Camel Crossing

Recent Camel Crossing 2

Happy Father's Day!

I don't usually post twice a day, but I realized I forgot to mention Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there, and to you dads-to-be, too.

To all you dads who provide for your family . . . finances, security, support, and love . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who take the time to be with your family, when you could be hangin' with the guys . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who love your wives unconditionally, modeling how a man should treat a woman, to his kids . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who take the time to talk AND listen to your kids . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who provide support, but still gives his kids the room to grow and mature and make mistakes . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who remember what it feels like to blow "it," whatever "it" is, and provides comfort when your kids least expect it . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who are, and have been, role models to kids without a dad in their lives . . .

Thank you!

To all you dads who recognize that parenthood is the greatest role you will ever have, and treat it as such . . . .

Thank you!

And

Happy Father's Day!

Best Explanation Yet

The N-word.

And who has the permission/right to use said word.

OK.

Clearly, this is a touchy subject.

But the video I've included provides the best explanation that I've seen on it yet.

Before I post the video, some thoughts.

Yes.  I know.

You're thinking . . . here she goes, on her one-woman philosophical journey.

No.  It's not that deep, nor am I.

All I know for sure is, this word has so many negative connotations.  I understand the argument that the rappers/artists use when they litter their lyrics with it.  I think it's an effort to take the "sting" away.

However, I'm reminded of the official dress code here in the UAE for women, which is basically to cover up from neck to toes.  Any yet, all of the malls have stores that sell some of the raciest clothes on the market.

If you don't want folks to wear this kind of clothes, don't sell it.

Likewise, if you're offended by other folks - other than Black folks - using this word, don't use it and throw it around casually, as if it's OK.

Part of the argument is a generational one.

I'm pretty sure my sons, and young folks their age, have a different take on this. They probably haven't seen, witnessed, or experienced the hatefulness associated with that word, certainly not to the degree that folks my age and older have.

So, what's the answer, then?

I don't know, but I like this guy's take on it.

What do you think?

http://vimeo.com/43636793
 

Another Lazy Day

Fridays are my "don't get out of pjs day."

I made the mistake of making an appointment last Friday, and reminded myself not to do that again.

I enjoy these days of doing nothing.

Well, I'm doing something, but it's reading and watching television.

I watched a movie that came out a while ago and had good reviews.  The title is "A Separation."  It's about a couple going through a divorce.  I don't usually watch this kind of stuff.  Who wants to relive a divorce?

However, this movie did not disappoint.

It takes place in Iran and involves a tough decision.  Do they stay in Iran and care for a parent with Alzheimer's, or move to another country to make a better life for their 12 year-old daughter?

Sometimes divorce isn't about falling out of love, but about sacrificing the relationship for the greater good, whatever that is.

It was thought provoking . . . my kind of movie.

Another favorite that I watched months ago is "A Better Life" that provides a personal view of the immigration debate.  It should be required viewing for everyone, no matter what side of the debate you're on.

Both are low budget, independent films.  Again, my kind of movies.

Side note -  Sunday is a holiday of some kind, and we have a day off from school. Yeah for holidays!

Side note 2 - My principal returned yesterday from her 4-5 month stay abroad, where she was with her sick mother.  It is great having her back.

Side note 3 - Generally speaking, no matter what the circumstance, when you ask an Arab how they are, they respond with "Thank God, all is well."  This is their response to whatever is happening in their life.  They believe that whatever happens, is the will of God, and not to be questioned.

It's a freeing way to live, don't you think?

Entitlement

I've seen entitlement from two extreme perspectives.

At one of my last schools in the US, all of the students received free breakfast and lunch, and all of their families were on aid.  We had several generations who continued to live in the neighborhood and they had attended the school too, which illustrated their status through the years had pretty much stayed the same.

We were fortunate in that the school was supported by many organizations, which included a wonderful church that provided backpacks of food on the weekends, and so many other things.  They even opened a clothes closet in an empty classroom so the staff could go in and get clothes for needy kids.

What was amazing to me though, was that no matter how much was provided, too often too many of the families were looking for more.

More handouts.

From the government.

From the church.

From the school.

From anyone willing to give.

You rarely got the sense that the things being done were appreciated.  What was clear was that most expected to be taken care of.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for the support that we have in place to help folks when they need it.  It has helped me, and many others along the way.  What I don't appreciate are the folks who sit back and wait for things to be handed to them as though the world owes them something.

Since I've been here, I've seen entitlement on the other end of the spectrum.

Many of the very wealthy folks also expect to be taken care of.

I'm sure this is common with folks of great wealth, but it is my first experience of seeing it first hand.

It's wonderful to see the systems that are in place to take care of the nationals.  It really is remarkable that the leaders made the decision to share the wealth.  This one decision alone is the reason there will never be an uprising in this country.

What's very sad though, is that there will always be people who take advantage of the system or are ungrateful for support that they receive, and this can happen at any level in the socio-economic ladder.

Through Thick and Thin

I'm so grateful for the men in my world, beginning with my brothers.

One of the lasting lessons Mom taught us was to "look after" each other, no matter what.

That started early when Forrest, who is ten years older than me, was busy most days babysitting my youngest brother, Terry and I.

He was fortunate to have a mentor and role model who guided him to college.  When it was time for me to go to school, he became my mentor and role model as he directed my steps and paid my way.  I would not have made it through college without his guidance and help.

When my twenty-year marriage came to an end and I was wallowing in self pity, it was my brothers who rallied around me.

When I was raising Ben and Frankie alone through the teenage years, they were in my corner.

When the boys graduated from college, they were there, standing with me.

When Ben had his accident, they came and provided tremendous support.

When I was living alone enjoying the freedom that comes from an empty nest, they were there cheering me on.

When I decided to make this journey so far from home, they were my champions, encouraging me every step of the way.

When it was taking forever-and-a-day to get final word on this move, they were there providing day-to-day support, refusing to let me give up on my dream.

Now that I'm here, they continue to cheer me on.

Have we always been this close?

No.  The many years between us was a barrier when we were younger.

But when Mom died, we made a conscious effort to stay in touch, and to be there for each other, no matter what.

I hope that you have a special relationship with your siblings.  If not, let me encourage you to do whatever it takes to get to that place.

I know my brothers will always correct me when I'm wrong; laugh at me when I goof up, and cry with me when I hurt.

So, to Willie, Forrest and Terry (deceased), thanks for always being there for me, no matter what.

Arabic Numbers

Arabic numbers are different than ours.  Numbers 1-10, along with their names, are listed below.

Arabic Numbers

My keyboard at work is in Arabic and English.  The same is true for the numbers - they're in Arabic and English, too.

Remember that you read Arabic from right to left, so when numbers are translated/transcribed, that has to be kept in mind or your numbers will be backwards.

Teaching kids how to write their numbers here is more challenging because of this, too.  Oftentimes when I'm covering a class I'll have the students to write the numbers from 1-100.  Many times they are transposed - 61 becomes 16; 29 becomes 92.  So, when I see that happening, I realize they have it, but because they learned their Arabic numbers going from right to left, they forget they need to go from left to right for English.  They usually catch on much faster than I would.

The only reason I've been able to pick up and remember some of the numbers, is because in most public places, you have to take a number, and when it's your turn, your number flashes on a screen.  The numbers always flash, and are spoken, in Arabic first.

Anyway, I hope you find this interesting.  

I sure do.

TEDx Al Ain - At Long Last

This is the video that I've been waiting to share with you.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zoDclDVj4M

Best Friends

What makes a friend, a "best friend?"

Does it have to be someone you've known a long time, or could it be someone new, or relatively new?

Is this person someone you can confide in, no matter what?

Does this person, in many ways, know you better than you know yourself?

Can this person be real with you, when no one else is willing to?

Is this the person you would call in the middle of the night?

Has this person stood with you through think and thin?  Would they?

Does this person need to be your spouse or significant other?

What if that person is not your spouse or significant other?  Does that present challenges?  Do you ditch the friend to keep the peace in your relationship?

Is this the person - although maybe you don't contact each other often anymore - that you can pick up a conversation with as if no time has elapsed?

What happens when you loose your best friend?  Do you search for another to fill the void, or do you rest with the memories you shared together?

Are best friends from college longer lasting than the ones from high school, or maybe even elementary school?

Does your best friend know they're your best friend?  Should they?  Does it matter if they know it or not?

Can you outgrow your "best friend" relationship?  How do you deal with resentment and hard feelings if that happens?

Are you missing out if you don't have a best friend?

Does someone consider you their best friend?

So many questions today.

And like many days, so few answers.

Camera Shy

A couple of weeks ago, there was a camera crew on campus from National Geographic.  They were filming footage for a documentary that will feature two of our students - a brother and sister.

We thought the focus was to be on the day-to-day life of the kids, but there were more questions about the way our school runs, and there were many questions about this education reform that we're very much a part of.

A variety of staff members were interviewed, along with members of the administration.  Thankfully, there was someone else who was much more excited about the prospect of being on camera than me, so she gladly filled in.

I was reminded of a time, in 1995, about this time of the school year, when circumstances thrust our family into the media spotlight.

In hindsight, I'm forever grateful for the support that came with the publicity, but it was a difficult time nonetheless.

Here's what happened.

Ben and Frankie were attending a Christian school, and had been a part of this school system for four years.  In 1995, Ben was a 13 year old 8th grader, and he was being recognized for his academic achievement.  He had earned straight A's in all grades, for all four years.  He was, in fact, the valedictorian of his class.  The middle school was modeled after the high school with this valedictorian position.

In anticipation of the big day, Ben got a haircut.  A very low, very typical haircut, seen on African-American boys everywhere.

Ben went to school, and was rehearsing the graduation/promotion service with his classmates, when one of the staff members noticed his haircut.  He was sent to the office, where a decision was made that he would not be allowed to participate in the ceremony because of his haircut.

There was a rule at this school against shaved heads because they were associated with Skinheads.

OK.

Again, the haircut was low, not shaved.  But, even if his head was shaved, how many black Skinheads do you know?

Long story short.

Ben was not allowed to be on campus or to participate in any of the end-of-the-year activities.  He was denied the opportunity to give the valedictorian speech.

Again, this was 8th grade.  I expected that we, his family, were the only ones who cared about this.

However, a dear friend and neighbor, thought differently.  She thought it struck a cord.  And as a writer for the local paper, she offered to cover it.

That led to extensive media coverage for several weeks.

It was even picked up by Bob Hebert, who until recently, was a columnist for the New York Times.

Fast forward to 1999.

Ben was the valedictorian of Jesuit High School.  There was a "where is he now" follow up in the media.

Fast forward again to 2010.

A staff member from the church/school contacted Ben through Facebook.  Ben was invited back to the church where the pastor publicly apologized for the school's action.  The current pastor had taken over for his father, who was the pastor when the incident occurred.  Again, there was media coverage.

As I said, I'm grateful this incident had a happy ending, but it was an incredibly stressful time while we were living it.  The media provided a platform to tell the story, but as a result, we were living in a glass house, with all that that entails.

I suppose the litmus test question is - what I/we do it again?

Yes.

Without hesitation.

I think Ben, and his accomplishments, were worth fighting for.

Two Articles Reflect Life in the UAE

The first one is about dressing modestly, or in many cases, not.

http://www.thenational.ae/news/uae-news/emirati-girls-launch-campaign-over-tourist-dress-code?utm_source=Newsletter&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=Daily%2BNewsletter%2B06-06-2012

The second is about a high school student thinking about the changes she'll face when going off to college.

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/lifestyle-comment/hesitant-to-leave-uae-luxury-for-university-living?utm_source=Newsletter&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=Daily%2BNewsletter%2B06-06-2012

Thoughts?

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger!

Tiger's winning today was big news.  He tied Jack Nicklaus with 73 wins.

I have mixed emotions about this.

On the one hand, I'm happy for him.  On the other, I'm still struggling to get over his infamous indiscretions.

I know.  I know.   I should practice what I preach and let it go.  I should forgive this low-down, dirty dog for his actions.

Why?

Not why should I forgive, but why does a guy like Tiger, with the world had his feet, feel the need to stoop so low?

We've seen it time and time again.  Powerful guys who scrape the bottom of the barrel, and for what?  A cheap thrill?

Why do they do it?

Is it really just because they can?

The men in my world think I should have let this go a long time ago.

I just couldn't let him off that easy.

Remember when I said I think like a man?  I take that back.  I'm all woman in my thoughts about this.  Guys are so much faster to condone this kind of nonsense.

Maybe that's it.  Maybe we women have been blessed with more common sense in this arena.

Whatever.

Guys (ok, people) are destined to do what they want to do, with whoever they want to do it with.

So, I'm letting go.

I just hope we've seen the last of this.

That's wishful thinking . . .  I know.

Temperatures Rising

We've been in triple digit heat for weeks now.  Some days don't seem quite as hot as others because of the warm breeze blowing.

Interestingly, in this heat, folks only drink water at room temperature.  None of the local folks will touch ice water.

One of our nurses can by and asked me for a bottle of water, which I gladly gave her.  She then attempted to reprimand me because it was cold.  She was quickly set straight.  In my world, in this heat, it will only be ice water.

Also fascinating is the fact that there doesn't seem to be any personal swimming pools either.  The only ones I know of are located in the hotels, and in apartment complexes.  I'm not sure if they're don't have them because of the custom of modest dress or the logistics of getting massive amounts of water out here.

As I said, we have a pool where I live that is on the roof of one of the buildings.  If it's 111 degrees on the ground, it must be 121 degrees on the roof!  That water is probably as warm as bath water.

Me, swimming?  No thanks.

Today I was at the mall and saw a guy sitting outside of Starbucks drinking coffee . . . in triple digit heat.  I was hot for him.

Thankfully, there is air conditioning, and it is everywhere.

I'm reading a moving story of a British woman who was here at the beginning of the wealthy period when money from the oil wells was (and still is) in great supply.  Her husband was a contractor for the Sheikh.  The Sheikh's two sons lived with her and her family in London, when they were there for school.  Her writing captures life 40 years ago, at the beginning of the extraordinary growth when she traveled back and forth and was spending a great deal of time here.  Forty-one years ago, the nationals were nomads living in tents in the desert.  Forty years ago, was the start of the mega-masions and skyscrapers seen all over this country today.

She speaks of daily blackouts when the local power source couldn't handle all of the electricity needed to cool the buildings.  Gratefully, that is no longer an issue.

Much of the book takes place here in Al Ain, and when she describes landmarks, I've seen these places, first hand.

Wherever you are, as summer quickly approaches, and you think about complaining about the weather, remember the heat I've described in these pages.  Chances are, those memories will cause you to be very thankful.

Sending cool thoughts your way.

Things I Learned From My Mom

If Mom were alive, she'd be 93 years old on June 15th.  She died in 1998, a week shy of her 79th birthday.

Her name was Rhilda Beverly.  I am named after her, but I have a middle name and use Faye because Rhilda has proven hard for people to pronounce and remember.

As I've mentioned before, Mom had very little formal education, but she had a PhD in common sense.  She only went to the 3rd grade in school, before she was pulled out to help work around the house.

I didn't fully appreciate her or her wisdom until I had kids of my own.  Then, I realized she was brilliant.

I find myself thinking about her and quoting her daily.

She used to say -

Choose your friends wisely.  


Tell me who you follow, and I'll tell you who you are.


Birds of a feather flock together.


Where there's smoke, there's fire.


Having money doesn't mean you have class.  


Being pretty will open doors; having sense will keep them open.


You can overdo anything (she liked saying this in reference to make-up and jewelry).


Be a child as long as you can and grow up when you can't help yourself.


The jailhouse is full of folks who were too cute to be disciplined when they were growing up.


If you don't discipline your kids, the police will, and you'll wish you had.


There's nothing cute about bad behaved kids.


If you don't discipline him at two, he'll be beating on you at 12 (referring to Ben who had a nasty habit of hitting and biting at two years old).


Always speak to folks, even if they don't respond.  You do your part, and let them worry about themselves.


The same God who took care of her here, will take care of her wherever she goes (when questioned about letting me go away to college; unheard of at that time and place).


If you stay on the right path, God will send someone to help you every step of the way.



Keep saying "good morning" (she would say when she talked about something that we couldn't fully understand yet).


As black folks, remember you have to be twice as good to go half as far.



Don't blow your own horn.  Let other people do that.  (I think this is why interviewing has always been tough for me).


Help others, while always remembering the people who helped you along the way.


Always be there for each other (a reminder to my brothers and I).


No matter how bad you think you have it, there's somebody, somewhere who has it worse off than you.


It is better to remain silent and thought a fool, than to speak up and remove all doubt (one of her favorite quotes found on a plaque hanging in her restroom).


When you choose to do what's right, everything else will work itself out.


Respect yourself and others will respect you.  


Always remember where you come from.


It is this last one that keeps me grounded.  No matter what happens or where I end up, I will always proudly be Rhilda Beverly's daughter - the country girl from China, Texas.