Week 16: "A Transformation"

Week 16:

April 19-26

I am desperately trying to stay positive. 

I am desperately trying not to let negative thoughts or stresses or fears consume my mind. 

They are poisonous and block energy and can prevent people from achieving success and happiness.

I am currently reading the book, The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. I picked it up in the hopes that it would help guide me towards living a more simplistic and happier life. I live in a two bedroom, three bathroom villa by myself and I pay no bills. I have everything that I want in life and more! I have the luxury of a consistent income and am able to purchase items like organic foods, fashionable clothes, popular books, movies and music and other materialistic distractions that bring me temporary joy. I am honestly very happy with my life right now, but ultimately I know that this life I live here in Saudi is not real. Something is missing. 

I am trying to move away from my desire to hold on to things: ideas, expectations, possessions, and money. 

New York City is going to be my home for the next two years. I have dreamed of this for years and it is finally manifesting itself. Though, of course, not exactly in the way that I had planned it would. Over the past few weeks I have been researching the city and the various costs and expenses of living there. No matter how many articles I read or websites I consult, I come to the same conclusion: NYC is wildly expensive and I am scared. I am scared of being unable to pay my bills. I am scared about being unknown. I am scared that I won't get hired to work at a good school. I am scared about being able to find happiness in a world that is so fast-paced and materialistic. I am scared of the future because I do not know what it holds in store for me. 

But I cannot let these negative thoughts and fears take hold of me. Robin Sharma, the author of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, writes that our thoughts are living and tangible things. Whatever negative thoughts we cultivate in our minds, we put that negative energy out into the world. 

I know it sounds like pseudo-spiritual bullshit, but I cannot help but feel as though there is some validity in these simple Buddhist principles. Why do I expend so much time and energy worrying about all the bad things that could happen as opposed to thinking about all the good things that could happen? Rather than worrying about what schools may not hire me, why don't I wonder about the school I will work at some day? Rather than thinking about an apartment I can't afford, why not think about the joy of moving into one that I can afford? 

I've never considered myself to be a negative person, but I am a worrier. An over-thinker. I fantasize about great situations more often than negative ones, but I do create stress for myself when I realize that my fantasies are purely fantasies and not rooted in reality. But what Sharma writes is that our fantasies can become realities. That is the power of the imagination. If you can think it and dream it, you can realize it. The reason that most people don't live their fantasies is because we get caught up in our fears and doubts and sabotage our dreams. Why did I give up my dream of being an actress? I was afraid of failing. I gave up before I even began.

Well I don't want to do that ever again. 

I need a spiritual awakening. I am preparing to make a major life change and in order to be able to live my life more fully I need to approach these next few weeks with an open mind. 

I really do need a change. 

Saudi....I love you, but you can be toxic in many ways. You tempt me with money and ease of life. I could honestly live here for the rest of my days. But that would not be a true and authentic life. I need to live more simply. I need to get away from all the thoughts and stress and negative thinking that poison my mind. I genuinely love my life and feel so fortunate for all that I have, but life to too precious and short to be wasted worrying. 

So no more worrying.

Just positive thinking from here on in!

Week 7: "Renewed Inspiration"

Feb 12th - 18th

This week's post is dedicated to my beautiful mother who turned 62 on February 12th! 

Like any female child, I fought against her attempts to help and advise me while growing up, but as I've gotten older and more mature over the years, she has become a true source of strength and inspiration in my life. I look up to her and admire her and value her judgement and opinion above most others. She is the most humble person I have ever encountered. She works incredibly hard at all things and yet never complains. Her family is her top priority and she loves and takes care of us and her friends, who she treats like family, without question. She makes me laugh and pushes my sister and I to be the best possible versions of ourselves that we can be. She doesn't tolerate unkindness and is a highly sensitive soul. In today's world sensitivity is not a coveted or even largely respected character trait, but she feels with her entire heart and loves all unconditionally. She has taught me that kindness is the greatest form of power. 

Thank you Mom. It cannot be said enough! You bring such light into the world and inspire me to be a better person than I am. I love you!

Growing up, my mother used to always say how much she would love to go to Cairo one day. She fantasized about seeing the pyramids and going to King Tut's tomb. She had introduced me to the film "Cleopatra" starring Elizabeth Taylor and she delighted in watching and re-watching Steve Martin's famous song he performed on SNL about "funky Tut". She is a sincere history buff and surely I have never seen her read anything that isn't non-fiction. So you can imagine her joy at discovering, when I was a senior in high school, that my softball team was scheduled to travel to Cairo for our final tournament. Since our team had done so well all season and because this was a fun and exciting destination, she came on the trip with my father (the assistant coach), my sister and I! It was such an exciting and memorable experience, full of beautiful sights, intense softball games, poolside lounging, my first time smoking shisha, and of course, gold medals and a first place trophy. I must admit, however that the trip was tainted for me by the fact that I was suffering from a stress fracture in my right leg and couldn't help my team win our title. I still shudder thinking about it. It was a terrible moment of weakness for me. I felt so helpless and my confidence in myself was almost shattered. As proud as I was for my teammates for pulling together and winning gold, I couldn't help but suffer with the thought that I was unnecessary. 

Fast forward 9 years and I find myself in Cairo once again. This time, however, I am filled with joy, love, a strong sense of self, and confidence. I flew to Cairo this past weekend to meet up with my childhood best friend of more than seventeen years. We met when we were children in Saudi Arabia and though we have grown up apart over the years, we have remained close and have developed into very similar spirits. We differ in a lot of ways, but our cores are the same. We both love traveling and trying new things and pushing ourselves out of our comforts zone and shaping our own rules. I love this woman as a sister and she constantly inspires me. 

Friends are family to me. Growing up overseas away from my blood relatives in Massachusetts forced me to seek comfort and support among my friends. My friends have seen me at my best and my worst and they love me unconditionally. I am not a perfect person, as I have tried to repeat and shout out to the world over and over again in recent months, but true friends love you for all your imperfections and failures. True friends pick you up when you've fallen apart and will give you space when you need time to heal. They are there. I've always loved that quote about friends being like stars, for as an international traveller, I find it perfectly describes the power that friendships have in my life, 

"True friends are like stars, you can't always see them, but you always know they're there". 

I have a great number of very strong, inspiring and empowering women in my life. They take the form of friends and relatives, but also students, teachers, parents, acquaintances. Though I suffer from feelings of loneliness at times,  I know that I am loved. I live a life of incredible fortune and privilege. 

Being in Cairo this past weekend was a very humbling experience. As Krisztina and I were driven through the city's dusty side streets, shaded by the leaning cement awnings and balconies of partially constructed apartments, I couldn't help but think about how good I have it. Having spent the past two and a half years here in Riyadh, I almost forgot what real poverty looked like.  Most of Cairo is painted over with a layer of sandy grime, trash is stuffed into every crevice and is sprinkle like confetti along footpaths and alleys. Most buildings and mosques seem as though they are all falling apart ever so slightly at the seams. Yet the people are kind, open and giving.  Citizens walk around wearing worn caps and sweaters and shoes splitting at the heel. Though the temperature there hovers around the mid-fifties, Egyptians are as bundled up as New Englanders preparing for a Nor'easter. Beggars clad in oily scraps of fabric sit in the middle of sidewalks, arms or stubs outstretched in hope of receiving a single coin of charity. Tourists stick out like sore thumbs and are feasted after like juicy steaks to stray dogs. 

I felt ashamed remembering that mere days ago I was curled up on my couch feeling sorry for myself as I scrolled through pages of New York City real estate thinking, I am going to be so poor next year. 

"So poor"? Poor because I won't have a rent-free two bedroom, three bathroom villa all to myself? Poor because I won't be making a tax-free salary? Poor because I won't be able to travel to Cairo or Dubai on my weekends? 

I bowed my head in shame. 

On our second night in Cairo, the manager of the hostel Krisztina and I were staying at treated us to shisha and dessert. We drove out to a little cafe on the Nile and were the only people there save the waiters. For two hours we sat across from one another, sipped fresh mango juice,  inhaled the sweet vapors of apple flavored sticky tobacco and talked about politics. The Egyptians love talking politics. Krisztina and I bombarded Atef, our kind host, with question after question about life in Cairo: the revolution, the military, sanitation, recycling, religion, family, dating, sex, marriage, tourism, Russia, the US government, Hillary Clinton and on and on and on. The whole night we were enraptured by his thoughtful and sincere responses to our questions. We learned so much and I gained a deep sense of appreciation for my upbringing abroad. I was amazed at how well-informed and knowledgable Atef was. He knew the names of so many world leaders and their positions with regards to Egyptian affairs. He recalled the days of the revolutions in 2011 and proudly shared that he "was there". He was one of the faceless men in the crowd holding and waving flags and banners, screaming at the top of his lungs in the middle of Tahrir square. I wondered if I had unknowingly seen him on TV. 

"How could I not be there?" he exclaimed, "it is my country!" He smiled as he joked that his vocal chords have only just now started recovering. The hostel he owns, that Krisztina and I called home for three nights, is just a few steps down the street from the famous apex of the revolution. 

"You couldn't avoid it if you tried," Atef cooly replied when I asked if it was frightening being so close to Tahrir square. 

He then assured Krisztina and I that, as tourists, we had nothing to fear in Egypt. 

"This is Egyptian against Egyptian" he asserted. 

Sadly, this information hasn't made it's way to the majority of the Western world yet and Cairo's tourism industry has taken a big hit. 

"I've lost approximately 3 million pounds" (the equivalent of around $400,000) Atef admitted to us when we asked about how badly the revolution has affected the tourist industry. Cairo is a city full of multi-lingual, well-informed, passionate and proud people who make their living by providing driving, touring, and informational services to foreigners. Now most of them are unable to secure work for months at at time. As a tourist, I definitely felt like everyone was trying to rip me off, but truthfully, that is true in any third world country. It was certainly true in Egypt before the revolution and it will remain to be true in years to come.  

Overall, this weekend was one of incredibly joy and excitement. Krisztina and I spared no expenses in making the most of our time in Cairo and we did so by hiring local drivers, eating in local eateries and of course, contributing to the tourism industry by renting camels and being guided by locals around the famous pyramids. Every cent we spent was worth it. We tried to stay as off the beaten path, experiencing the realities of Cairo life, as best we could -- 25 cent falafel pitas every morning, copious amounts of tea and broken Arabic expressions and words of gratitude on our lips at every moment. There is truly no better way to see the world. 

New Donkey Friend at Sakkara

Best Friends Watching the Sun Go Down at the Pyramids

Beautiful architecture in Khan el-Kalili (downtown souk)

Coptic Christian rock sculptures and crosses

Driving up the mountain known as "Garbage City" to see a Coptic Cathedral built into a cliff. 

Typical Mode of Transport in Cairo

Mokattam village, also known as "Garbage City", is where all of Cairo's trash gets dumped, but it is then sorted and recycled by the villagers who live among it. 

Koshary, a typical Cairo lunch of noodles, macaroni, lentils, rice, crispy onions, corn, and a delicious spicy paprika sauce! 

My beautiful friend mounting her beautiful camel, Mike Tyson. 

"Looking up" in Cairo is a vision

Teenage kid getting tattooed on the side of the street

Shisha and tea break with our lovely driver, Mohammad and magnoon (crazy) guide, Amir. 

Sunset camel ride by the pyramids

One of my favorite pictures of the trip....camel serenity

A beautiful end to a beautiful weekend.

Week 3: "Bright Lights and a Renewed Sense of Hope"

Week 3: January 12th - 20th

I need to be much more dutiful about maintaining my writing practice. Yet I don't want to feel so obliged to my writing that I start churning out forced robotic responses about mundane issues and reflections, but I also don't want to let myself get lazy or too comfortable either. 

My graduate school online course is about to begin and I honestly couldn't be more excited to get back into the swing of things and start reading intellectually-stimulating and challenging journal articles. I look forward to engaging in dialogue with my amazing cohort of like-minded educators who continually inspire me to think more deeply and live more authentically.

Speaking of living authentically, this week I celebrated two very special AIS-R events. The first was something new: the AIS-R Foundation Gala: an expensive evening of fundraising for the school. Celebrated at the beautiful home of our high school principal, the evening felt positively star-studded. Big bulbed bright lights strung haphazardly among the trees of the sunken garden illuminated the cleanly scrubbed and made-up faces of AIS-R parents, faculty and supporters. Everyone was dressed to the nines (where does that expression come from exactly?) and looked phenomenal. The dinner was catered by the Four Seasons and I thought it was absolutely delicious. My favorite dishes were the mushroom soup - rich, aromatic and earthy - and the smoked salmon appetizer. Three people at my table didn't like smoked salmon so I was able to fill myself with three helpings of it! That and my numerous glasses of sweet red wine in the company of my dear friends made for a very joyful, if not hedonistic evening. 

I had spent the few hours leading up to the gala getting ready with my "gals". We did our hair and make up and talked frivolously. It felt like being back in high school again. 

I don't know how much money the gala raised but I am assuming it was quite a hefty load. It got me thinking about the value of an education and how so many people do not see education as an investment. I know that I currently live in an incredibly affluent part of the world and that the parents of my students are able to afford to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on their children's education, but it is more than just money, it is about priorities. The parents of my students could just as easily spend their money on private tutors but they clearly prioritize the educational needs of their children and value the American educational system. All of my students' parents want and expect their children to attend American universities because "they are the best". Wanting the best for your child is not just an American concept. My students' parents come from all over the world. Their businesses and homes and livelihoods have been shaped outside of the United States, which finds me wondering, why do they value an American education so much? 

When I look at American public schools  today I see a wide variety of educational experiences. Some US public schools are phenomenal places of learning that value teachers by paying them well and supporting their professional growth. These schools value their parents and above all, their students. These school's commit to learning and provide safe, caring and supportive environments for all to thrive. Other schools do not. On the opposite end of the spectrum there are those US public schools that intimidate their teachers, belittle students and criticize parents. This is particularly true in impoverished school districts - namely, the ones who need the most support and encouragement. 

Why is this? Why does this happen? What is to account for the severe gap between the privileged and underprivileged? Is it really just money? Or is it something else? 

....I feel myself slipping into a discussion about socioeconomic inequalities in the United States and while I do consider this to be a worthy topic of reflection, I feel as though it is rather heavy and detracting from the original intention I had for this post. So I apologize socioeconomic gap but you are just going to have to wait. 

Fast forward to January 20th. 

One of my most favorite AIS-R days of the year....

The Terry Fox Run! 

Earlier this year I made a commitment to myself to get into better shape through running. I have started off slowly and over the past few weeks have been making better progress with my speed and distance. The Terry Fox run at our school was a short run, just a little over 2 miles. The real Terry Fox ran approximately a marathon a day! His goal was to run from the Eastern coast of Canada to the Western coast. He dipped his foot into the Atlantic and set running off for the Pacific. He was just barely 21 years old. His story is heartbreaking, but I never tire of hearing it. Diagnosed with bone cancer at the age of 18 Terry Fox's life as a normal and ordinary Canadian teenager was changed for ever. He came up with the idea of running across Canada as a way to garner attention for cancer research. Cancer in the late 80s didn't have the tremendous support or attention that it has today. Nowadays there are numerous walks, runs, marathons, events and fundraisers for cancer research, but back in Terry's time, it was still quite a hush hush issue. He made his illness and the struggle to find a cure for cancer public and inspired a generation of kids to stand up for causes he believed in. 

I tear up almost every Terry Fox day thinking about him and his story. He never got to finish his run across Canada. He died a few hundred miles before reaching the finish line. Though he did manage to run the equivalent distance of Miami to Seattle (which shockingly is only just slightly more than halfway across Canada). 

Every year the Terry Fox run reminds me to stop complaining. To step up and take action. To quit whining. To feel more grateful. I had lots of students coming up to me telling me they couldn't run because "they were sick", "they had bad shoes", "they were tired"....I smiled and half-jokingly looked at them and said, "Terry Fox had progressive cancer and only one leg and he ran about a marathon a day, what's your excuse again?". 

But Terry Fox didn't run across Canada on one leg to make others feel guilty about not running. He ran because that is all he knew how to do. He wasn't the smartest, best looking or most creative person, but he had a passion and a vision of a better world and he did what he could. We don't have to be perfect. We don't even have to succeed, but we do have to try and we do have to give it everything we've got. 

Nostalgia

I am sitting alone at my desk in my classroom. It is after school hours and fortunately no students have dropped by. I am on the verge of tears. I miss Chelsea...

I never realized how powerful an experience my two years of working at CHAP were. The Chelsea High Alternative Program - a part of Chelsea High School so few people dared to venture too, but it was my home and the students and faculty there were my family. I miss Dave, the lovable security guard, who would laugh and tease the kids all day, but who always had my back when things got out of hand. 

I miss the students sulking down our short strip of hallway, pacing the floors with their fists clenched tight and their jaw lines rigid with a forced serious composure. 

I even miss the smell of ketchup packets and the sickeningly sweet smell of chicken burgers in microwaved buns. I miss them.

I miss everything. 

I miss my windowless classroom that I turned into a forum, a stage, an arena, a lecture hall, a personal temple of learning and place of peace (except for when students screamed profanities and hit each other and then it felt more like an asylum). 

I miss talking with my students. Each and every one of them. I miss hearing about the troubles in their lives and about the experiences they were going through. I miss their genuine laughs and even more genuine shouts. Teaching them was never the hard part, it was seeing them try to live in a world that was failing them. 

Though I have a wonderful job here in Saudi Arabia with amazing colleagues and phenomenal students, it is clear that I have most certainly left a part of my heart in the little city of Chelsea, Massachusetts.

But I also think I miss the freedom, the independence, the fact that I could teach my students whatever I wanted and question them and challenge them and write with them and read with them and engage them on interesting and relevant topics of study. I miss being able to take my time with topics and to leave school at 3 pm. I miss my little house in Winthrop and the sanctuary it provided me. I miss my pine paneled walls and chocolate suede couch. I miss my blue porch and view of the ocean. I miss the sounds of airplanes. I miss the smell of salt water and seaweed. 

I miss my gym. I miss kale. I miss mushroom pesto ravioli. I miss my little wine and spirits shop.

Yet, I also know that if I had stayed, I would never have grown as the woman and educator I have become today. I would never have travelled to Thailand to present at a conference or take a team of students to Cambodia to help build a library. I would never had taken 90 ninth graders camping in the desert or gone on weekend trips to Bahrain and Dubai. I also find myself wondering whether I would have fallen in love with the man of my dreams. We are old friends who reconnected over our mutual love of traveling and experiences of being single abroad. Would we still have fallen in love with my being in Boston and he in Japan? I am not sure. I'd like to think so, but still....I wonder.

Everything happens for a reason and the experiences of my life are no exception. I have taken advantage of every opportunity afforded me in this life and I have grown so much as a person as a result of my struggles and successes. So even though I miss my "old life" and my former students, school, house and routines, I wouldn't change the course of my life for anything. 

Though moments ago I was ready to burst into tears, I have now cracked a faint smile and am breathing a little more deeply and peacefully. How fortunate I am to have lived such a full life at such a young age...and how fortunate I am to have so much more adventure ahead of me 

Adventures in Coaching

This past weekend (5 days total, actually) I travelled to Kuwait with my JV Girls Volleyball team. Fortunately, I was not by myself! I had my good friend, Liz, by my side (she is the coach of the JV Boys) and the two Varsity volleyball coaches as well. We all looked out for each other and supported one another during a very challenging, but very "educational" tournament. I say educational because I think we all learned a great deal, not only about volleyball but about life, competition and our selves. 

The tournament was exhausting. I was responsible for the well-being and care and safety of 8 teenage girls all under the age of 16. We were staying in a hotel in Kuwait city and traveling to the school daily as well as venturing to two shopping malls. I felt like a parent. I was constantly on alert and always moving and looking around to count my babies and ensure that they all looked happy and safe.

At first I was nervous about our tournament. I did not have four of my starting players and I was nervous that the players I did have with me weren't experienced enough to make it through a grueling three day tournament. Yet my girls worked their hearts out and came through to win third place. An incredible feat considering that the competition was at a much higher level than they are used to here in Riyadh. Though we had secured a gold metal for ourselves during our local Riyadh schools tournament, I honestly went to Kuwait hoping for fifth place! 

Every single day my players improved. They grew so much as a team and as individual players in just three days. I was so proud of them and they worked hard to earn that third place medal. The two teams that got 1st and 2nd place were definitely more experienced than my girls, so I didn't feel bad seeing them advance to the finals. I have very high hopes for the girls next year...

Though it severely breaks my heart to know that I won't be the one pushing them through to victory next year...

Some Coaching Musings/Reflections Inspired by the Trip:

* Children need constant support, affirmation, attention and encouragement. Boys and girls. No matter how young or old. Children come off as "needy" for a reason, because as they are growing and coming to shape their identities and purposes in the world, they need to feel supported in their journey to self-discovery. The best teaching/coaching advice my father ever gave me was if a child is begging for your attention, give it to them! 

* Boys often need more attention and love than girls do. Girls can cry openly and express their emotions more freely without fear of being labelled as a "sissy" or any other undermining term. As a result, boys bottle a lot of their emotions up over time and during stressful or emotional events, like competitive sports tournaments, they need to be shown affection and support or else they will crack. 

* As an international school teacher in Saudi Arabia, I feel as though usual teacher-student boundaries don't apply to me or my colleagues. My students know where I live, they see me at the gym, they see me lounging around the pool, they see me buying groceries...due to the fact that Westerners are confined to private compounds and complexes, our bubble is quite small and students and teachers know a lot more about what is going on in one another's lives than anywhere else in the world, I suspect. My students look up to me as more than just a teacher -- I serve as a mentor, a guide, a coach, a counsellor, a mom, a sister, a friend even to many of the children at this school. While almost all teaching manuals and guides warn teachers against being "friends" with their students, I cannot help but feel as though it is inevitable in a place like this. Though I don't consider my students to be my friends (because friends are people I hang out with casually, on purpose, outside of school) , I have heard many students refer to me as "their friend". We have been forced to think a lot about setting stronger boundaries with our students here - mainly in light of the Jakarta International School sexual assault scandal, but I cannot help but feel as though being friendly and open with our students is the only way to get through to them and help them engage in learning while living in such a harsh and socially restrictive country. 

This had made me think: is it such a wrong thing to have your students see you as a complete and whole person? To see your strengths as well as your weaknesses? To see you at your best and at your worst? Doesn't it promote a sense of trust and open-ness for teachers and students to be honest with one another? 

Is it possible for a teacher to remain an authority figure while also showing her vulnerable side? 

I believe the answer to all of these questions is yes. I am a good teacher because my students trust me and the reason they trust me is because I don't hide anything from them. I am honest with them and serve as an authority in their lives by acting as a role model as opposed to a dictator. However, I must admit, that I feel alone in this at times. My idea of a perfect teacher is not that of an "authority" but rather, as a collaborator or guide. 

Me and my JV Volleyball Girls after winning GOLD at our local Riyadh tournament

Me and my girls after winning BRONZE in Kuwait tournament

Happy Boys. Celebrating third place win and a birthday

My mini-me. This little girl just throws her heart and soul into everything.

One of Liz's players turned 15 on the trip. We bought him a cake....

Regretfully....because all the girls ended up getting caked....

Caked Coaches...

Our last day in Kuwait....enjoy the sunshine and chance to relax....

Desert Queens

This past weekend I had the great fortune of meeting some desert queens. No, not members of the royal family, but rather, some Saudi drag queens! 

Several months ago I met a very kind young man who I shall refer to here as Aladdin. Aladdin was a friend of a friend who wanted to take yoga lessons from me. I was hesitant due to the fact that I was already so busy with teaching, coaching two sports, advising student council and volunteering my time to help students with the school play, but I agreed nonetheless to teach a yoga class a week to an eager-to-learn Saudi man.

The second I saw Aladdin I knew we were going to be fast friends. He has the brightest smile I have ever seen and just radiates positivity and enthusiasm. Though our yoga classes were taught at 7pm, a time when I am usually finishing dinner and winding down from my day, I always left class feeling a renewed sense of energy and vitality. He is one of those kinds of people that just lights up a room. 

He told me immediately upon meeting me that he was gay. Something he is very proud of and happy about. Of course he is compelled to keep this a secret. Though his father is aware of Aladdin's sexual orientation, he must hide this fact from his mother who he describes as "very religious". He also keeps his identity hidden from his colleagues and most of his friends -- except for, of course, "his queens" -- how he refers to his small circle of close friends who are also gay. 

For months he had been inviting me to hang out with them, but their gatherings were always so late at night that I often declined. During the end of the year I become swamped with work, moving and attending work functions that I had to stop our yoga lessons and bid Aladdin goodbye for the summer. To be honest I thought I wouldn't see him again.

When I returned to Riyadh, we started messaging each other back and forth and finally last weekend he invited me over to hang out with him and "his girls" for a casual night of socializing at his house. I happily accepted and made sure to take a ginseng pill at 8 pm to be able to stay up all night. Most Saudi's don't start to socialize until at least 10 pm and they usually stay up talking and eating and drinking and smoking until 4 am. 

The moment I arrived at Aladdin's house I knew I had stumbled upon something extraordinary. Here I was, in the private home of a young man who is compelled to conceal his identity. When I entered his lounge I was greeted by a group of 8 very young and good looking men. Too good looking. It was clear that these were Aladdin's so called "queens". 

The first thing I noticed was the shoes. They had the greatest shoes! I kept complimenting them on their stylish jeans, tops, rings, necklaces and bracelets. I felt like I had walked into a mens fashion magazine. These were obviously young men that took a great deal of pride in their appearances and were very up to date on current fashion trends and styles. As they got to know me and we engaged in casual smart talk, somehow the show Sex and the City came up and within seconds of uttering the name it was as if Sarah Jessica Parker herself walked into the room.

"Oh my god, oh my god, which one are you!? Who are you! I am totally Miranda, he is totally Samantha, Saad is totally Charlotte"

When I revealed that I would be Carrie, they looked at me with a disbelieving look. Clearly in Saudi gay boy land, Carrie is the less interesting of the Sex and the City girls. 

We continued the conversation by talking about our favorite moments from the show, we compared the show to the two films and laughed about our favorite scenes and cringed about the disappointing ones. The boys mentioned their favorite designers and celebrity crushes and I smiled and agreed and offered my own opinions and interests which they absorbed like sponges. 

At around 1 am, when the conversation had moved outdoors and we were really getting into our discussion about Sex and the City compared with Girls, I couldn't help but have an out-of-body moment of reflection. Here I was, a single white American woman, a person who is suppressed and told to cover herself and hide her sex, surrounded by Saudi males -- the pride of this traditional country - being oogled over like I was a shiny new toy or Prada handbag. These boys were so happy to have someone to talk to about celebrities and fashion and music and sex and styles. I was so touched by the way that they embraced me, but more than that I was touched by their courage. 

Saudi Arabia's justice system is based on Shari'ah laws. Unfortunately shari'ah law is difficult to interpret and enforce. It becomes especially difficult in Saudi Arabia considering how civilization has progressed and people's natures and behaviors and societal patterns change. 

Sex in general, whether hetero or homosexual is a taboo subject. Over the years I have often consulted my Saudi friends, both gay and straight, about various laws in Saudi Arabia. I always get different answers. According to the Hanabalite jurist, Marʿī ibn Yūsuf al-Karmī al-Maqdisī sodomy is......

"treated like fornication, and must be punished in the same way. If muḥṣan [commonly translated as "adulterer" but technically meaning someone who has had legal intercourse, but who may or may not currently be married] and free [not a slave], one must be stoned to death, while a free bachelor must be whipped 100 lashes and banished for a year."

"Sodomy is proven either by the perpetrator confessing four times or by the testimony of four trustworthy Muslim men, who have been eyewitnesses to the act. If there are fewer than four witnesses, or if one of them is not upstanding, they are all to be chastised with 80 lashes for slander" (Wikipedia)

As I talked with my new friends, all of whom classified themselves as "happy gay men" - I couldn't help but find myself feeling sympathetic for them. When I asked one of them bluntly "so what is it like being a gay man in Saudi Arabia?" they said very casually, "We live a double life" he said. 

On the internet and in the safety of their private villas they can dress as they like, hook up with who they like and dance and play dress up like Beyonce as much as they like. But outside those high walls they must don their thobes (long white tunic) and shmaghs (red and white checkered scarves they wear over their heads) and take out their earrings and put on that stern expression mask of the typical strong Saudi male. They must hide their true nature from the world they call home. But interestingly, they didn't seem to upset about it. I would have thought they would have dreams of leaving Saudi Arabia or changing the laws, but rather I found most of them to be pretty satisfied with their lives as they are. "It is what it is" they said to me. "In another world, I wish I could be a girl" one of them said to me. I arched my eyebrows in disbelief -- a Saudi man wishing he was a woman? Seriously? How many times have I wished I could glue a beard onto my face and get behind the wheel of a car and just ride freely and without fear of judgement or criticism down Tahlia street (main thoroughfare in the capital). How I wish that I could stay out late with my friends and not have to wake up a sleepy driver asking to get taken home at 3 am. 

Saudi Arabia is an interesting place and one that will always be near and dear to my heart. Like any love, it can frustrate me and drive me crazy, but it will always be a special place in my life. Like the brave and loving desert queens that I was fortunate enough to socialize with for a night, I too feel hope for the future. While young man may not be able to strut down the streets of Riyadh in fishnet stockings and firetruck red nail polish any time soon, at least there are those who continue to dream of a different future -- glitter filled and all. 

Photo Credit: Leland Bobbe, Half Drag

I Need to Get Back Into Writing!!!

I have shamefully not updated this blog since last April when my mother came to visit me in Riyadh and it has been a whirlwind of a life since that time.

Now that I am a current graduate student at Columbia Teacher's College (in addition to maintaining my job at AIS-R) and training my students in the art of the "Daily Discipline of Writing" I feel like a hypocrite for not practicing what I preach. So I am determined to maintain my writing and keep this blog updated. It is hard work. After a long day of teaching and coaching the last thing I feel like doing is sitting down and writing a coherent and interesting blog entry, but now that I am into a good rhythm and routine at school I am going to devote at least one day a week (for now) to maintaining my writing during a prep period. I am going to strive to write more than once a week, but for now that is my basic goal. I put a great deal of pressure on myself to write eloquently and "properly" when I know that I have an audience (unlike my journal writing which is pure stream-of-consciousness rambling).

So for now, I devote this blog entry to playing "catch up" and chronicling my adventures since last April....briefly.



May/June 2014

The school year ended as most school years do - in a flurry of exams and grading and hastened good-byes and social gatherings. The most challenging part of the end of the year this year was the fact that we had to move school campuses and compounds. So in addition to concluding the year and sending our students off to summer break after torturing them with essays and final exams, we teachers had to pack up our classrooms, move boxes upon boxes upon boxes of books and tech equipment, desks, chairs, couches, filing cabinets, smart boards, white boards, artwork, trash and all the other major and minor bits and pieces that make up a school. It was exhausting. My legs and arms were covered in bruises and I was sore for days. But I would be lying if I said it didn't feel somewhat satisfying to be able to work and sweat alongside my colleagues to say goodbye to our old home and work together to get our new school ready. 

It broke my heart to say goodbye to Al Yamama compound - my home for the past 2 years as an adult, and four years as a child. I dreaded moving and actually waited until the very last minute possible (the day I flew out for summer) to actually move all of my major items and possessions there. I was fortunate to have the giant vehicle and patience of a good friend to help me. It was hard to say good-bye, but I told myself that a villa is merely a space to live and that while I hated the fact that my new compound, Al Bustan, took me away from the world I had grown so accustomed to, I was willing to be adaptable and make the new situation work for me. 

I flew out of Saudi Arabia on June 17th and arrived in Belgium to help my mother celebrate her retirement from over 30 years in education. The big and wonderful surprise was the fact that my sister also flew in unbeknownst to my mother and father. They were beyond thrilled and shocked. It was so wonderful and special having the four of us together. My good friends Liz and Matt Gardner came and visited us in Belgium for a few days and we all enjoyed celebrating Belgian victories during the World Cup! I love sharing my country with friends and spending time with loved ones.

End of an era -- Raiders Riyadh Softball Champions! 

So proud -- my first group of graduating seniors! 

Saying goodbye to the old AISR campus....

Good bye Al Yamama Pool -- oh so many an hour have I lounged by your side...

Last Al Yamama Pool bikini selfie

Good bye old villa -- oh so many wonderful memories (and parties!)

You will always be my home

Best porch and garden!

Gardners come to Belgium!

Simmy surprises the family! The time calls for 10 am breakfast wine

Love these two

Mama is retired!!!

World Cup Madness!!! Nothing like celebrating Belgian victory in Belgium!

Simmy's always good at making new friends...

Heaven. Pure heaven. 

Fries for lunch? YUP!

La Hulpe pop up stadium and bar for the World Cup!

"Quietly" cheering for Belgium in America.....bad call.....

July 2014

I start graduate school! 

I am enrolled in INSTEP, the Columbia University's Teacher's College Masters Program that is designed for in-service teachers. It is a perfect program for me because it is an intensive summer program that allows me to complete the majority of my course work over 3 summers with very little intrusion in my professional life (only 2 online courses are required). When I was initially researching Masters programs I was so dismayed by the fact that so many of them were "full time" and required teachers to essentially quit their jobs to get their Masters degrees. This seemed completely ludicrous to me. How is one expected to become a Master educator by removing oneself from the classroom? 

My three weeks spent at Columbia University were absolute heaven. I was in such ecstasy every single day. Yes our days were full. I was in lectures from 9-5 almost every single day and when not attending class I was in the library doing research, reading or writing. But I absolutely loved it. I loved being dedicated to nothing but my education for three short, but incredibly intense weeks. I made wonderful new friends, I was so inspired by my peers and professors and gained so much from the courses I took. While at graduate school I wrote every single day. I felt inspired and strove to explore intellectual issues and theories about education that I had never "had the time" to explore in previous years as an educator. My thoughts and ideas were frequently challenged by my professors and peers and I found myself growing more critical, discerning and inspired by the articles I was assigned to read and the daily discussions and dialogues I would get into with my peers. It was so refreshing to be surrounded by impassioned people. Kind, intelligent and creative minds that genuinely want to make a difference in schools. 

By the time the program ended I was already fantasizing about working in the New York Public School district and planning my doctoral dissertation....

My new home 

New school mascot 

Columbia University Library

Uptown 1 train on 116th street

Amazing teacher friends/peers by my favorite fountain (Bethesda angel in Central Park)

Staying serious during our workshop at the Met

I got to take classes at Julliard! Freaked out every single morning....

Ahh....graduate school bliss

Releasing our imaginations....

Reading workshop at the KGB bar on the lower east side...yes, I had to go to a communist bar for "class". 

July / August 2014

Finally my real summer begins! 

I spend the last few weeks of my summer doing nothing but spending precious time with my family and friends. Simmy came and visited me in NYC to help me move out of my dorm and the fun only increased from there! 

Oh....and after five long years of heartbreaks and disappointments and frustrations, I finally get to be with the love of my life!

Walks around NYC, of course we find a "Wellesley"

We cool....

Everything is more hilarious with this one

So pretty

I swear we're related....

Catching up with lovely old friends from college

Matt and my "first date"

Love him!

Can't stay serious for that long....

Breakfast at my favorite diner, The Chef's Hat, in Williamstown, MA
 

Loving nature

Playing around the frog pond

Piggy back rides at the farm

Sweatshirt swap and picking raspberries

Matt drove 4 hours to come say goodbye to me before my flight....

Last meal of the summer -- salmon bacon burger!!! Heaven

My two favorite women in the world.