Who is that woman and why is she wearing my shoes?

Now I have to say it's been an interesting year. 371 days ago I said good-bye to a beautiful place that was my home for four years. But I also left behind a life of which I had never imagined myself outside. I was that girl who loved school her whole life. Absolutely loved it. That girl who was happier in Bapst Library than in Mary Ann's bar. Am I where I thought I would be last year? Yes and no. Physically, yes. Every other way, no. Every time I walk into the classroom I think to myself, What are you doing? Who are you pretending to be? When I received my bachelor's degree in literature and philosophy last year did I think I would be spending my days teaching thirty four year old children how to sneeze into their arms instead of my face? Anyone who knows me asks me what am I doing. And generally for a video tape of a day in my classroom.

I spend a lot of time here feeling like I'm living someone else's life- and it's not just the snot wiping, jacket zipping, shoe tying parts of it. That's most of it. It's the big girl job, but it's also the boyfriend, the black tie ball, the nice restaurants, the school concerts, the chaperoning field trips, the going to bed at 9 pm. Everything rolled into one. What's going on here? How did this happen to me? How did I become Daytime Mommy to thirty other people's children when I don't even desire my own? I thought I would be teaching high school. But this year has shown me that I can do this- I can do something I've never done before, that I never thought I would do, and honestly, that I've never wanted to do and never want to do again. After the first week, I wasn't sure how I would make it through the year. I still have that thought every once in a while, like when a child hasn't eaten any lunch for the fifteenth day in a row and I have to tell him that he needs to eat his sandwich so he can become Spiderman. And then tell him to take crocodile bites and actually hold the sandwich to his mouth. (See? Who was she?)

But like it or not, that is my life for the next TWENTY NINE DAYS and then I'm out of KG1B for a much needed two month vacation. Next year I'll be returning but tentatively to first and second grade which is something I'm really looking forward to. After having worked with actual babies, substituting for first and second graders is a dream. You can open your own books? You can write your own names? You can pull up your own pants? (Most of the time anyway.) Sign me up!

Now I will say that I enjoy the job most days and mostly I'm grateful that I have a job in a time when many people I graduated with were not so fortunate to find one. I can pay off my loans, pay my bills, and travel freely. So even though I'm not exactly where I want to be right now, I'm trying to remember that I'm 23 and when you're 23 and the economy sucks (or even when it doesn't) you probably won't be able to do exactly what you want right away. And since I don't know what it is that I actually want anyway, this is ok. Besides, this going to Turkey, Dubai, and India on my term holidays isn't so bad.

PS- On Saturday I was helping Blaine out with the concerts for Grade 3 and 4- just keeping children relatively orderly while waiting for their turn on stage. At the end, many parents came up to thank those of us who were there helping out:
Mom: "Ah thank you so much for helping! It is lovely today! You work here?"
Me: "Thank you, yes, I do. I'm a teacher here as well. I work in the Infants' School."
Mom: "Ahhhhh [speaks in Arabic to her friends] yes we thought you were a student!"

Hint: At the point when I said "Yes, I teach here," you should have stopped that line of conversation and not told me I look like a high schooler. Even though in honesty, 2/3 of the twelfth graders are twice my size in every direction. I'm still kind of mortified that five years after I graduated from high school and a year after I graduated from college, that someone still thought I was a high schooler. That embarrassed me when I was in high school. Ah well. At least she had on great flats.

By the numbers...

Number of working days until the school year is over: 28.

Number of concerts I have to organize: 1.
Number of songs I have to perfect with four year olds: 3.
Number of four year olds I have to make monkey costumes for: 28.
Number of four year olds I have to prevent from falling off a stage: 28.
Number of four year olds who will probably sing in the concert: 7.
Number of parents/nannies/siblings I have to impress: upwards of 75.

Number of working days until the concert: Not enough.

Words of admonition from Ms. Batreesa during rehearsal today: "EXCUSE ME but if I EVER see you untying another person's shoe laces during practice, you will NOT be in the concert! I never want to see that again!"

Sometimes when I say things like that, I think about the fact that I still owe BC a relatively large fortune.
And then I think about the fact that I have no desire to have children. For a very. long. time.

All you need is love...

The bounds of extreme love and extreme hate are fairly easily reached in KG.

From 'Teacher, I love you 11,' we've rapidly progressed to:
"Miss Batreesa, I love you sixtyhundredsixtyten."
"Teacher, I love you zerofifteeneightsixninefiveonehundredm."
"Miss Batreesa, I like you six hundred twenty-two."
"Teacher, I like you like that!" [Holds up all ten fingers]
"Teacha! Teacha!" [Grabs my hand, pulls my arm down, and plasters me with kisses. Starting at my hand and working up to my neck and then back down. Whoa child.]

General response:
"Oh my GOODNESS, that's such a big number! Thank you! I love you that much also."

A sampling of KGWWE Smacktalk:
"Teacher, he say for me x!"
"Teacher, she make like this for me!" [Sticks out tongue]
"Teacher, he say for me absent!"
"Teacher, she say for me wrong!"
And my personal favorite from lunchtime yesterday, "Miss Batreesa, she say for me this not sandwich!"

General response:
"Are you hurt? Are you x? Are you absent? Is that a sandwich? Then you're fine. Tell her that is not nice and that is all. It's not nice to tell on your friends. Only tell me if you are hurt."

Hello Summertime...

I walked out of my apartment this morning to an absolutely suffocating blast of heat. At 6 am. The sweat was practically dripping off my nose. Even on the bus. At 6 am. I had on a sweater and pants. M.i.s.t.a.k.e.
I forgot what this is like. And it's only going to get worse from here because the temperature will be going UP instead of down, like it was when we got here in August.

Today's high: 111.
Current temperature (7 pm): 97.
Accuweather Real Feel: 114.

In honor of Mother's Day...

Sometimes I think I'm turning into one of them:

"Now, let's count....zero, one, two, three...Yes, is this very important?"
"I want go home."
"Me too. Later. After math....four, five, six...YES? Is this very important? Do you need to go to the bathroom? Are you hurt?"
"I want mommy."
"Well, me too. I want my mommy too. And my mommy lives very far away and I won't get to see her until July."
"Where your mommy?"
"She lives very far away. In America."
"Why?"
"Because that is where her house is. That is where my family lives, where I am from."
"She will visit you in Qatar?"
"No, she will not visit me in Qatar."
"Why?"
"Because it is too far."
"So what your mommy name?
"My mommy's name? Her name is Geri."
"HAHAHAHAHHAHA NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Yes! Her name is Geri. Why?"
"Hahahahahaha Geri! Hahahaha and your daddy name Tom? Hahahaha!"

Is it bad that I appreciate their Tom and Jerry humor? I have to say though, pretty clever for a bunch of four year olds.

Thanks, Mom. I love you!

Easy as 1, 2, 3...

You would think from this expression that counting could possibly be one of the easiest concepts to grasp. One, two, three... Everyday we count from 0-10 countless times, and no pun intended there. Literally could not tell you the number of times we do it. We count forwards, backwards, on our fingers, on our number lines, on the board, on the big numbers I have over the board, we count shapes, blocks, children, we whisper, we shout, we increase from our zero voices to our ten voices (them shouting and dancing), etc.

And yet...

Me: Okay, let's count the pictures on the board. Ibrahim*, please come here and count the balloons.
Ibrahim: One, two, three.....six... four...six...nine....five.....
Me: What?! (I know I shouldn't but sometimes I can't help it.) Ibrahim. Count again. One, two, three...What comes after three, Ibrahim?
Ibrahim: [Vacant Silence]
Me: Come on, Ibrahim. You know this. What comes after three? Look at your number line.
Ibrahim: [Pondering Silence] Four.
Me: Very good, Ibrahim!!!!! Very good. Four. Four comes after three. Sometimes or all the time?
Ibrahim: [Pondering Silence] Oll...oll the time.
Me: VERY good! Now, we have one, two, three, four- what comes after four, Ibrahim?
Ibrahim: [Extended Pondering Silence] Three.
Me: [Silently ripping out hair] Three? Try again, Ibrahim. Look, number three comes BEFORE number four. Look, see? One, two, three, four- what's next?
Ibrahim: [Extended Pondering Silence Take 2] Fffff...five. Five.
Me: VERY GOOD, IBRAHIM! Excellent. Five comes after four. Sometimes or all the time?
Ibrahim: Oll....oll the time, teacher.
Me: Excellent, Ibrahim! Very good. Ok, high five!

Every. Day.

Kerala, Dubai, and just a bit of Doha

So for anyone who was curious, the baby shower went over quite well. And even though I'm not the biggest fan of babies, nor is my co-host Miss Alex, we had an inordinately good time choosing baby items in the clothes shop. Problem? Possibly. So THANKS for the advice from various sources. We had a lot of food and a game of musical chairs that got rather heated but everything ended well. The mother-to-be (who is my age) was really happy and she has since given birth to her son! From stalking her facebook he looks not as wrinkly or slimy as most babies appear and seems to be enjoying a few of his shower gifts already.

It's been a busy few weeks since I blogged last and I never wrote about India so here goes. I traveled with three of the girls from school and we stayed in a small bed and breakfast type place right on the beach. I keep choosing the right traveling companions- much like Turkey, our trip comprised heavily of bouncing from one meal to the next. Except this time it wasn't Arctic weather. Perfection. It was so quiet- we were the only people on the beach except the fishermen and their boats. I get the impression that traveling in Kerala is kind of like India-Lite- as evidenced by the fact that we were the only people on the beach. But it still it took us 3 hours to drive 45 km. The 'highway' through most of Southern India is a semi-paved two lane road that winds through a multitude of towns and tiny catchall shops on every corner. We drove to the very southernmost point of India where three bodies of water meet- the Indian Ocean, the Bay of Bengal, and the Arabian Gulf. One day we went to an elephant rehabilitation center, where elderly elephants rescued from horrible tourist places or poachers are cared for, especially when they can't be rereleased into the wild. There were about seven elephants there and we were so close to them-basically my childhood dream come true! One of them put its trunk on my head which was simultaneously really cool and a touch unpleasant.

We also went for a hike in a nature reserve at the edge of the jungle and saw a waterfall. I've never seen a waterfall before and secretly felt like Pocahontas while I was sitting on a rock observing. And then a gust of wind swirled some leaves down from the trees and it was basically proof that I can sing with all the colors of the wind. Even though I sometimes struggle to sing along in tune with the four year olds to the Alphabet Song. To complete the day we watched the sun set from atop the Western Ghats (we drove- let's not pretend I'm someone I'm not- up the mountain on a road with 22 hairpin turns and no guardrails).

Most of our other days were fairly low-key. Mostly involving the beach and shopping and random things like going to the innkeeper's friend's house. This friend was a florist and had a massive greenhouse/garden full of tropical plants and orchids. It was gorgeous but probably not the average tourist destination. There were so many orchids. And also a random cow (of which we saw many throughout the week) which tried to eat my skirt. We also took a ride on a houseboat that went along the backwaters of Kerala. It was very peaceful and we went past a lot of local homes along the river. Even though we weren't staying in a resort or anything, we didn't really encounter any of the storied poverty associated with Mumbai or Calcutta, owing to Kerala's relative sparseness of population density. Here along the river we saw more sights and homes that made me think about the reality of where we were. The positive thing about traveling in Kerala is that many of the tourist sites are managed by local people and the fees go directly to support the local communites that manage them. Our last day we went shopping for some clothes- saris and churidars (aka the tunic top and skinny pants). We thought we were off to a bazaar area but our hotel owner and her daughter definitely took us to the Indian Macy's. All the better because we got really nice clothes but we were definitely the only non-Indians there. We had some stares, especially since I was traveling with the Blonde Brigade. Leaving was so sad but it was nice to get home. The hotel owner, Matthew, drove us to the airport with his wife and daughters, even though our flight was at 3 am. They were such a nice family and it was really pleasant to stay with real people and not in a fake five star hotel somewhere.

Blaine and I also went to Dubai for Easter weekend which was really nice. While we were there I realized all of the things Doha needs before it becomes a proper city ready to host a World Cup. Examples: public transportation, taxi drivers who know where destinations like the airport are, beaches that cost less than one hundred dollars to use, sidewalks, destinations outside shopping malls, highways, traffic lights, NO ROUNDABOUTS, landscape architecture. In short, urban planning. Here we did go for the fake five star hotel option and I have to say it is a fabulously acceptable option in a place like Dubai, especially when you book it for about one quarter of its normal price. As a result, my tan is coming along quite nicely and I picked up some things that I can't get in Doha. Namely Twizzlers. A girl can maintain her candy standards anywhere these days.

And on a more local note, of all the designer stores available to me here in Doha, I've realized that my favorite place in town is definitely the Home Centre. For being a somewhat undomestic type of girl I certainly spend a lot of time (and paycheck celebrations) perusing its wares. Thursday, with no one to stop me, I spent and hour and a half browsing the store. Sample of my purchases Thursday afternoon: a wooden elephant hanging for the wall, two new mugs, placemats, and a new spice rack. It was totally ok...there's a sale on.

The sale goes until May 14...