Since I'm being harassed via multimedia outlets, I'm posting again. Sorry for the gap between posts- I was on vacation for 10 days (during which time I also took vacation from blogging - sorry). I stayed in Doha but did some awesome things. Like get a tan the week before Thanksgiving. Check. Saw Harry Potter 7 twelve hours before it released in the States. Check. Went to 'Ladies Night' at a Latino dance club in Doha. Never again, but check. Got a massage at "Inner Peace Saloon," where they also have 'scrapping' therapy for your body. Also never again, but check. Last Sunday the children were telling me about their vacations and they went to: Syria, 'the Lebanon,' Saudi, Jordan, Dubai, Italy, Morocco, you get the picture. I was like, oh. I went to the mall and went bowling. What a fancy private school I teach at. My favorite thing about that was hearing from one child who went to Lebanon. He told me he saw the snow, so I asked him where. He said, "In the Lebanon. Where the Santa lives." Excuse me what? Oh the simple world view of children.

So the past week and a half have passed in much the same manner as the previous did - starring role: me bumming around in my pajamas. I have been slightly deathly ill for the last 10 days or so. I had to take three days off from school last week because I could not hold myself up to teach in any manner. Fortunately Miss Christine, my teaching assistant, is awesome and told the children that I was not coming back ever unless they were very good. She pretended to call me at the end of the day to deter their unceasingly naughty behavior. (Prime examples of that to come this afternoon. Oh, read on, any who might question this seemingly heartless lie or believe in the goodness of children. Read on.) It may be unsurprising for some of you to learn I still have no health insurance, but considering the insurance is processed by the same man who processed my work and residency visa...two weeks ago (about four months late) I'm less than shocked.
So after writhing in bed with a fever for 3 days at the brink of malnutrition I discover we can go to a hospital complex here for only 30 riyals. I decided to go.
Social experiment. Thus follow my observations:
1. I have no health insurance and am not a citizen of Qatar.
2. For just about $8.00, since I do hold residency, I was treated in a clean, well run government hospital. Entry to exit took me perhaps one hour. In an emergency room. My doctor was polite, thorough, and concerned in her diagnosis.
3. There was also a pharmacy at the hospital where I could purchase all necessary prescriptions, also for under $60.00. Including antibiotics.

So maybe my name was spelled completely wrong. Last name - no effort. Spelled wrong (differently) in two different places. First name - Anne. ? July 13 is also my new birthday. So maybe I pointed this out to the Qatari receptionist, who probably typed it in wrong because she was on her two Blackberries at the time, and her response was "No problem." So maybe the closest thing to a HIPPA notice I saw was the sign on the exam room saying, "Do not make the knock while patient is in the room," I still think the US health care system could take a few pointers out of this. I suppose limitless wealth comes in handy supplying universal health care but still, just saying. I doubt you could get seen in one hour in any ER WITH insurance if you were St John the Baptist holding his own head on the silver platter.

Now, today. Today. First of all, I have tonsilitis and the flu and can barely speak. I am currently bribing the children with a mysterious 'surprise' on Thursday if they are very good this week (*If you have any suggestions, do tell.) because I don't think I would live if they were their usual golden selves. I have to teach sitting down, if that's any indication of my strength level. Let me illustrate. At the end of the day today, naturally after Miss Christine has left, I am left alone with 27 hungry monsters who want nothing more than to go home to mommy. Things are going as well as can be expected today (meaning no one has pissed themselves or is standing on their chair) when all of a sudden I hear a little boy crying. So I turn around and see one standing in front of another and say, "WHAT'S THIS? What happened?" The response? "Hassan* bite me. Bite my face." Sure enough the child's nose is red and marked up where the other child has attempted to BITE IT OFF. So I must go down to the hall supervisor to send one to the nurse and to hold the other one and speak to his parents. I had just returned and was turned counting the small ones left in the room when I look around and realize Abdulrahman* is missing, and not because his mother has come. So I saw another teacher and said, "I have a runner," and was out the door like a shot after Abdulrahman, who knows better and was just being a Gremlin. I had to chase him across the entire school, running (after being barely able to walk the last 2 days) shouting his name (ABDULRAHMAN! ABDULRAHMAN, STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW! STOP!), until I caught him right at the exit of the grounds. The unearthly noise which then began to issue from his mouth caught the attention of all the parents, children, administrators, dogs in the country, and possibly American sonar equipment in the Gulf region. I had to practically drag him back to the KG1 building and he made me feel like the Big Bad Wolf the whole way. I turned my back for FIVE seconds, and a child has attempted to bite another's face in half. Then I turn for another FIVE seconds to deal with the face bite and one escapes across the school. This is all in addition to the child I have had to quarantine at a table alone, in the corner, unable to get out unless I move the table for him, because he hits indiscriminately and then lies about it.

If you still believe in the inherent goodness of children, raise your hand.