Back to School- Part 3

There's good, bad and ugly of our new home in Dubai.

Here's how it is:

97% humidity. In 110 degree heat. Serious. Imagine how sexy my hair looks these days.

Our apartment has a gas oven. Every time I cook images of Sylvia Plath rise up unbidden. Anyone who knows me can only guess how my stove checking has increased tenfold.

My saintly patience and extra effort with Mr. One Hundred the Nudist from last year has been rewarded by the universe with the special class this year. Little to no English.
Right now we're at
Me: "Now. Class. Open. Your. Books. Open. Your. Books. OPEN. Your. Books." [Supplemented by repeated mimetic instructions.]
Students: *Crickets and blank stares*
Don't even ask about when it's time for, "Now. Let's. Turn. To. Page. 29. Page. 29. Page. 2. 9. Page. 29."

Which is one thing. It's another when I'm expected to be ON PACE with the curriculum (which requires fluency and literacy- something most of these kids lack in any language) by mid-year. At this point, I have more success as a mime. Give me strength. At least there is no sociopathic biting nudist this year.

Besides the gas oven our apartment is fantastic. All new, with new furnishings and appliances. And a flat screen TV. Shiny. AND our kitchen has a marble island (love). The bedroom closets are huge, which is great, but covered with floor to ceiling windows, which is weird. Huge bonus- almost all six of them are mine.

There's tons to do in Dubai, everything is more accessible, the beaches are gorgeous and practically free, and we filled up the tank of our car for 13.00. Thirty gallons for thirteen dollars. Amazing.