My dear husband keeps me updated on my dad's condition back
in Georgia. It's not good. Dad continues to deteriorate almost day by day. He
can longer hold his head up for any length of time, and most of the time he
keeps his eyes shut. I read where Alzheimer's patients will do that as a way of
shutting out visual stimuli that they can no longer process. Dad doesn't eat
much and his weight has plummeted. He might weigh 125 pounds. To put that into perspective, he weighed 186 in April
of this year. I know because he stepped on the scale at my house and I weighed him. Nowadays, Dad either stays in bed or
the Geri chair at the V.A hospital, as he is no longer mobile on his own accord.
My daughter took her
three week son, Cash, to "meet" my dad at the V.A hospital last week. Not once
did my dad look at the baby. My daughter said dad's eyes were closed and when
she begged him to look at her, he cracked his eyes open the merest of slits, smiled,
and then shut his eyes tightly again. My daughter held Cash to my dad's chest
and let my father feel his great-grandson baby against his body. Dad will be
seventy years old Monday. Everything stolen way too early from my dad. All he
worked for. All he planned for. He never got a chance to enjoy any of it. I'm
angry about it all and don't quite know who to be angry at.
So, so difficult to be so far from home when something of this
magnitude is happening to one of the most important people in your life. But,
it was my choice to come to the UAE. No one else's but mine. I knew it would be
hard. I never thought it would be this hard.
My dad is human. He has made mistakes, like all of us. I don't try to shift him to any godlike status because that would be taking his humanness away. My dad taught me how to fight, how to succeed, how to fall, how to get back up. And in the entire wide world I could not have asked for a father who could have come even close to loving me the way he did. I would give up years of my own life to have just one last conversation
with him. Just one.
THE UAE
Meanwhile the beat goes on in the UAE. Syria is still rife with violence. Israel bombed Gaza yesterday. My friends and family back home worry about me because they read the news and I am in the Middle East, but all of that is taking place about 1500 miles from where I sit and doesn't effect my normal living and working life. The UAE continues to be a place where the unexpected is the
norm though. It is simply accepted and one quickly grows used to practically doing every else's
job, and not just in one's own workplace. The daily customer service industries like the banks, the internet company,
the education council- any sector where Emiratisation
is prevalent- is rife with inconsistencies. The definition of Emiratisation from Wikipedia:
"While the program has been in place for more than a decade and results can be seen in the public sector, the private sector is still lagging behind with citizens only representing 0.34% of the private sector workforce".
The lack of a Western work ethic amongst the National UEA
citizenry is something I don't understand or can relate to, and it would be almost
laughable, if it weren't so tragic. They are trying to operate in Western dominated and developed industries with Middle Eastern styled "Inshallah" way of doing business, and never the twain shall meet. Thanks to the influx of redistributed oil wealth in the past 40 years, most of the Nationals have never had to work a day in their
lives, and as we are stumbling into the 21st Century and the oil reserves are being acknowledged as not lasting forever, the UAE government is attempting to just about bribe their citizens into
employment. The Nationals are accustomed to having expats do everything for them:
pumping their gas, raising their children, cooking their meals, washing their cars,
serving them in restaurants, waiting on them in stores, and managing their Emirati owned businesses (they provide the capital, an expat provides the skill and sweat).
The sectors that the government is
trying to steer the Emiratis towards in employment are insurance and banking, and these are
the very sectors that are providing issues and problems for the Western expats.
These institutions can train the Emirati
employees to supply basic banking customer service and services for insurance claims, if they do not fall too far outside the
realms of the ordinary, average services. But hit the Emiratis with an issue that
requires a bit more initiative, hours to solve, skill, knowledge, and persistence and it all blows
up. They will just walk away from the
challenge, say "Inshallah" and put it behind them. But the problem
doesn't go away. It just gets shunted to
another employee who isn't Emirati and that employee has to unravel the tangled strings left behind. And forget about getting any problem
resolved over the phone. If an issue arises it is best to GO to the service
providers' offices, which means a lot of extra commuting after work.
Thankfully, businesses stay open until
very late due to the desert culture's internal clock. So I can clear up any banking issues ( of
which there have been several) at 7 p.m and I can pay my internet bill in
person at 7:30 p.m.
My favorite times in this country continue to be when I
close the classroom door and it's just me and my students, learning together. My girls are teaching me so much about their
culture and themselves, and like teens everywhere they are accepting and love
anyone who is willing to invest time in them and show they really care. And,
like teens everywhere, they can spot insincerity a mile off. It's a good thing I don't have to fake my
interest and feelings for them. I'd wouldn't last a week. My feelings toward
the adults may be full of internal questionings and conflict, but it rarely
crosses over to my girls.. I just see teen girls who are delightfully funny, inquisitive, and eager.
Today was Islamic New Year's Day, so we had the day off from work. We had a wonderful program at school yesterday to
"celebrate" the Nwe Year. One of the Arabic teachers who speaks English (she may even be Emirati) stood beside
me during the program and patiently translated the skit that the children had
organized. It told the story of the Prophet Mohammed and his flight from Mecca
to Medina, and his eventual return to Medina. I was able to follow along a
little because I have researched the life of Mohammed and I guess it was
apparent to the Arabic teacher that I had exerted some effort to educate myself
about her religion. As the Arabic
teacher was relating the events, she was suddenly overcome with emotion and a
tear spilled from her eye. I was startled and then deeply humbled that I was
afforded a peek into her heart. I
recognized the deep and sincere love she holds for her God and religion. It was
a revealing moment not only about her, but myself. Her lone tear was a testimony to her faith.
What is Friendship, Really?
Today I was able to spend the entire afternoon with two friends. We visited
the Hili archeological dig park and the Al Ain National Museum. I am thankful for these two friends. In
normal circumstances we might not have chosen one another, but I am finding
that friends of necessity can become friends of the heart. They tolerate my
incessant talking and random conversation shifts, my forays and diatribes about
world events, the sometimes sudden mood changes I experience due to the grief
and uncertainty over my dad, my dark humor that makes it damn near impossible
for me to not poke fun at almost anything and everything, and my Arthur days
when I can't make it another step and have to bow out of previously arranged
plans. It's a wonder they even take the time to be with me, but they do, and
for that I am indebted.
And because these two friends are not from the United States, I am
starting to see a reflection of how my country is viewed by others. Some of
these reflections I agree with, some I don't, and some I know is just due to my friends not knowing much about America's
history, as I don't know much about the histories of their countries (I am making an effort to
rectify this deficiency). Americans are prideful and boastful and vocal and
brash, or as I insist on describing it: we
can be "American Assholes". And damn proud of our assholishness, I might
add because when we bring out the American Asshole it's simply due to our inherent
inability to tolerate half truths, a job half done, or a complete and utter
disregard for the rights of other human beings. Americans are always insisting
that life be "fair", even when it is apparent that it never will be.
That is all the framers of the Constitution wanted: fair. However, the definition of fair is evolving and the United States is going through some growing pains.
But I digress. Interestingly, my two new friends provide
epiphany moments that otherwise might never have occurred in my brain. For example, today one of them made a rather profound statement that started the wheels spinning and I was
suddenly rocked with the knowledge that my perception of the Emiratis as a rude
and entitled acting people may just be that they are actually insecure and
threatened by their status as an unrepresented population in their own country
(around 20%) . They resent the fact that their young nation is overrun with so
many foreigners, but they have developed a need for the workforce and thus are
unable to sever the ties that hold them to us. That resentment and insecurity comes across as
rudeness and a superiority attitude. I am learning bit by bit.
My new friends provide other viewpoints that enable me to
ponder certain issues and questions in a totally different slant and light. They
make me think. They push my envelope of comfort. They are astute. They make me
laugh. They even piss me off a times (and I know I probably do the same to them, hell, I know I do). They can relate to what I am experiencing on a day
to day basis and they can also relate to my angry outbursts towards seemingly
illogical behaviors (i.e not "Western"). They know in every core of their cells what
it feels like to be the stranger in a strange land.
I am also fortunate to be working with an English teacher
from California who I admire and respect in every way. She is around my oldest
son's age (29), and I have started to feel very protective towards her. She is smart, beautiful, possesses an insight
beyond her years, is hardworking, patient, and a balm to me on days when I am
feeling surrounded by an ocean of
uncertainty. Again, a friendship born of necessity and situation, but one
that is adding positively to who I am and increasing the size of my heart.
I have become all
sappy and meandering. My bed calls. I have two more days off from work. I can rest knowing that I totally rocked my
first evaluation Thursday and that my girls have conquered their fear and
ignorance of English prepositions.
And I can revel in
the knowledge that encased safely in my refrigerator is a package of
REAL American hot dogs that I scored at the pork shop. They taste EXACTLY like
Ball Park Franks. It's the little things that make me happy these days.
and tomorrow I go to Abu Dhabi for a good old fashioned American football game that my friend's eighteen year old son is playing in.
To bed, to bed, potato head,...
Teri, when you go to the football game tomorrow, remember in football they have touch downs, not goals or homeruns. - Pirate
ReplyDeleteTeri, reading maps is not one of your strong points. The distance from your house in Al Ain to the Gaza Strip is 1,389 miles, and to Damascus, Syria is 1,335 miles. And from the center of the roof of your apartment to the center of our home in Cochran is 7,697 miles.
ReplyDeleteLuv ya,
football= touchdown. Got it.
ReplyDeleteand hey, I was only off by a little under 200 miles. Not bad for a geographically challenged person.
and I am long way from home.. wow.
Now you say you were only 200 miles off. But that was before when you said you were 15,000 miles away form Gza and Syria. Since then you corrected it.
DeleteIt's called "revision" love!!!! You were my editor on this one.
ReplyDelete