This is India

Instead of explaining the absence of a post, and telling you all how tremendously busy I have been, I have decided to skip it all and jump right in to taking you with me on the trip to India.



In early October it was decided that four of us, Allison (now called the sleeper…Allison will fall asleep as any given moment on our journey. Sitting up, standing, on the floor of the airport, on safari…at whatever point you read in this recollection of India, you can bet she was asleep at some point of it) Kent, Emily and myself, would be traveling to India during our November break. What an experience of a lifetime. I am so happy to have the memories of the past week and have been itching at sharing them with whoever decides to read this dilapidated, sorry excuse for a blog.
I’ll skip the fun had in the Abu Dhabi airport and begin this tale filled with excitement, awkward moments, and much laugher.

Allison sleeping in the airport...in the way of everything.


Day 1

We walk out of the airport in New Delhi and are hit immediately with a smell like nothing we have previously had the pleasure of breathing in through our nasal passage. It doesn’t sting the nostrils, but it doesn’t allow them to relax either. This is when we first utter the phrase I will provide an acronym for: TII (this is India). We search for the guy that should be holding a sign with our names. We find him – our names aren’t on the sign, just the hostel’s name is printed – oh well. He speaks broken English and we follow him across two busy streets. Rickshaws and taxis are honking as though we have just caused a massive pile-up and should anxiously await the Indian police. No such luck – we make it across safely while dealing with a few perplexed individuals that find it utterly delightful that four “white” people are coming to Delhi. We squeeze into the small van that is provided and make the half hour journey to our hostel and into the heart of Delhi.

As we drive our eyes are more open than they have been since leaving Bahrain. To our left we see the slums of India that we have read about and witnessed on television. The scene of this helpless poverty provokes a feeling that will remain with me for the rest of my life. Small children are running around, naked, through piles of garbage. The elderly are walking slowly and by themselves on the side of the road seemingly without a destination to ease their troubling minds. Wild dogs roam the streets searching for something to eat, most of them lay dead on the side on the road without receiving even a glance from the those who pass the carcasses. Doing the same are at least thirty cows. Its commonplace for a cow to walk in and out of a market place, your hut, and the road – constantly causing traffic to come to a standstill for several minutes. Its strange and amazing at first, but over the week we come to accept the fact that we can come face to face with a bull without thinking twice.

The slum huts are small, but a family fits inside and manages during the dry months (which is now). During the monsoon season, however, the huts will leak leaving the inside drenched. The entire family will find the one dry area (if there is one), huddle together, and stay the whole night sitting up just to remain dry. They don’t want anyone to get wet, because getting wet can mean easier chance of getting a cold, and they can’t get a cold because there isn’t a doctor to go to, and there isn’t money to pay for one even if a doctor was held up in a hut across the garbage laden walkway. The first sights of these slums will not soon leave my thoughts or my heart. I wanted to take these children, put them in my suitcase, show them that there is a world beyond their small slum village, and beyond the wild dogs. How can there be people in this world living like this? They seem to go about their lives unnoticed and to be honest I think they would prefer it that way. Throughout the entire trip I met not one person that seemed as though they were unhappy with their less than extravagant existence in a very poor country. Each person we became acquainted with was energetic, enthusiastic, and friendly.

We make it to our hostel. The driving is incredible with the horn honking every few seconds and with quick swerves, fast accelerating and abrupt braking. We all sigh in relief that it looks as though it is a stable building – no cows, no feces in the road, no wild dogs, no small children to rip at your heart, and much fewer people. We wait for a bit, are offered free breakfast, and then check-in. We haven’t slept much and know we can’t sleep now. And so begins our first walk in the streets of India.
We make it to the metro station after passing cows, a slum, a gentleman receiving a very close shave on the side of the road, and some very nice people incredibly eager to help us find our way. The metro station is only a few years old and we are expecting – I’m not sure what we were expecting, but what we saw was not it. IT WAS CLEAN! No trash, no awkward smells, it looked brand-new and we loved it…until our train arrived.

We see on the ground next to the tracks that there is a section for women only. “Odd”, Kent and I think, but that’s an excellent idea. Little did we know the real reason why there was a woman’s car. Our train arrives, the doors open, and we fail to see an area in which we could place our bodies. If there was ever a time that the phrase, “packed in like sardines,” would be more relevant than for the situation unfolding in front of my eyes, I would be shocked. There simply isn’t room and no one seems to be making any adjustments to allow our entry so…we push our way into the car while Allison and Emily head towards the women’s car.



Here we are. In the middle of India. Backpacks obviously pointing out that we are tourists and have little to no clue where we are going, or what we are doing. Faint looks on our faces, as we can’t inhale without our bodies expanding far too much for the next person to handle the pressure. Its one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life, and Kent agrees. It takes about 30 minutes to arrive at our stop, but we have a problem. We are nowhere near the exit door and for the next 20 seconds we struggle, push, shove, and exchange dirty looks with the seemingly 100s of people standing in our way. We are at times even pushed back in to the train as we are obviously fighting for our way out. We finally land our feet on the platform and see Allison and Emily approaching with smiles from ear to ear. “What could you possibly be smiling about,” I ask. Apparently the two girls were treated as celebrities and had several cell phones fixated on them for the entire ride. They were packed like sardines as well, but they enjoyed it. Kent and I – never again. Squished on the metro….check.

As we make our way out of the metro station we pause for a brief moment with feelings of being completely overwhelmed. Dirt roads, thousands of people within a few hundred feet, elephants walking down the middle of the road, people walking, people riding bikes and horns honking continuously. A city bus passes and the scene is one fit for a comedy. People packed into the bus so tightly that the door to get on the bus is filled with people doing all they can to keep from falling out. Hanging on the outside of the bus are a few men clutching the bars on the windows while their feet dangle in the dust being produced from the bus. We take it in and immediately wonder, “What the hell are we doing here?”


We find a nice man perched atop his bicycle rickshaw and tell him where we wish to go. He smiles and seems to understand what we want and the four of us hop on the rickshaw not knowing that for the next 20 minutes we were to be treated as celebrities. Everywhere we passed time seemed to stand still as person after person stopped whatever they were doing and either stared or snapped a photo. Hilarious to us and amazing to the people were the four white people traveling through India. We were at the heart of the city and everywhere we look we see families in their shops hoping someone will buy a useless item to provide food on their table. We love every minute of our ride and are seeing some of the most amazing things any of us have ever gazed upon. Rickshaw ride around the city…check.

We arrive at our destination and realize quickly that a picture is in order to properly end our journey on the rickshaw. Emily and Allison pose for a picture as a little Indian girl (no shoes, ripped clothing) runs up into the picture and sticks her tongue out for a nice pose. We all laugh and find it terribly amusing. The small girl runs to me with her hand extended and begs for money as she takes her closed hand and motions to her mouth. We all laugh again as she knows how to play the game with the white people who travel in her parts. We give her a small amount of money, of which she is very displeased with, and go about our way exploring the city. Giving money to a beggar child…check.


We aren’t walking alone for very long until a man who wishes to make a few rupees targets us for a ride. He tells us that he be our tour guide and show us the sights we wish to see while at the same time showing us things we would never find on our own. We agree and begin our tour on a rickshaw around Old Delhi. We are shown many amazing places, but the biggest experience I will take from this trip is one involving drums, a groom, and Indian cakes.

We are enjoying our bumpy ride as our driver…er…peddler…takes us around the city. We pass a small village and hear shouting, drums beating, and music. Of course we must investigate. We stumble upon some sort of party, take pictures, and ogle at what is unfolding in front of us. I see someone wave us over – I jump out of the cart and run to the party. I am immediately showered with hugs and Indian cakes. The rest come over and we dance for the next 10 or 15 minutes with this Indian family. Turns out we participated in an Indian engagement ceremony for the soon-to-be groom. It’s a send-off party for him before he jumps on a horse and rides to his soon-to-be wife’s house for a proper proposal. Participate in an Indian engagement ceremony…check.
Our guide takes us to an amazing place for dinner. We eat, and sweat, because our bodies are not yet accustomed to the traditional Indian spices. We walk around for a bit, then grab a rickshaw to the metro. We take the very empty train home. We fall asleep knowing we already have had the experience of a lifetime.



Day 2

We sleep in (the only day in the vacation where this will happen) and wake-up to a free breakfast and nice music. We take our time eating breakfast and then head out to the metro station. Today we travel to New Delhi and have properly prepared ourselves to expect anything and everything. The walk to the metro is the same as the day before. The train isn’t as busy, and we are able to sit.

As we climb the towering stairs out of the metro and reach the top we are greeted with a calming atmosphere. It’s clean. It’s quiet, except for the cars driving, but without honking their horns. We are in the government sector of India. To our left are all of the different ministries, and to our right sits the houses of parliament and the Prime Minister’s palace. Beautiful old buildings surrounded by nice paved roads and clean sidewalks, as well as stunning red sand.





As we walk around we run into a few families that look as us as though we are celebrities. Pictures are taken with each member of this very large family. After feeling as though we have survived an attack from the paparazzi, they leave smiling, laughing, and waving. Emily eats up her newly found social status and loves every minute.

Once again a nice man offering a guided tour through New Delhi meets us. We hop in his motorized rickshaw and begin our five-hour tour of New Delhi. We pass the India gate, numerous national monuments, Gandhi’s temple, and end our day having one of the best meals of our trip. We share several types of curries, garlic and butter naan, seasoned onions, and white fluffy rice. We ask our driver to take us back to the metro and thus ends our day in New Delhi.



Day 3

The next few days are spent at a Tiger reservation, deep in the jungle. Agra and the Taj Mahal. We also visit an orphanage/school in the heart of Nagpur. STAY TUNED!

Whew.

Life as of Late

Jake is bored of blogging (or depressed by a lack of comments) so I (Emily) am going to take over for this entry.

I suppose there's not much to say....life is good. Yesterday I complained about the too-strong smell of the cleaner's supplies-- it was then I realized I am a spoiled brat. Scary that that didn't cross my mind last week, when the dryer stopped worked and someone brought me a completely new one within ten minutes.

We also found a new grocery store (I must say that we are entirely too food orientated), where we can find everything from Heinz beans to Waitrose almond biscuits to Aunt Bessie's roast teddies....needless to say I am completely content in the food department. What else is new.

As far as school goes, Jake is being made head of committees left and right and consistently being pat on the back by the principal. AND his kids are great...full of intellectual conversation and the like. Well, when they do their homework that is. But it's the same anywhere.


I'm just minding my own business here at the good ol' elementary, where our problems stem from inside the classroom rather than out. There are good days and bad, but as Jake said, when you're a teacher, everyday is another chance to do it over again. The good days are very good though-- last week, a little girl in my class handed out her birthday party invitations at the end of the day. Fine, I thought, maybe she's having a party at WahHoo waterpark and inviting the whole class.

False.

Someone let me read their invite. It said, “Come to a birthday party for Fatema! When: Thursday September 30. Place: School.” Riddle me that! Apparently I was to have this child's birthday party in my class. I asked her if she meant after school....nope. I come to find out that we are required to have a birthday party on the last Thursday of every month-- gosh, it's a rough life here, people going about and requiring parties. Anyway, her mom came in at the end of the day with the biggest most ornate cake I've ever seen....Wal-Mart bakery doesn't cut it for these people. She also had juice and personal pizzas for everyone AND games and prizes for the kids. Let me tell you, it was a rough day. And that cake was ridiculously tasty. (I know what you're going to say mum....there I go talking about food again!)

For lack of any more lengthy and interesting stories, I am going to provide for your reading pleasure a list of other reasons to love Bahrain (aka reasons why you should come and visit):
- It is still 90 degrees.
- Cars don't have seatbelts. Let me rephrase. Cars don't have seatbelts that are actually used, especially by children. The back
ledge is preferred by most parents and guardians. (Please see image)

- Children often bring you treats. They'll even bring in brownies if their maids/nannies know how to make them (thanks Allison)
- Our car, Trey, the ever-reliable Mazda 3. 'Nuff said.
- Not only is the first race of the F1 held here every year, but they practice for it right outside the apartment! They all meet at
about 1am regardless of the day, and race up and down the strip...loudly. Jake is still waiting with baited breath for the
inevitable crunch.
- The famous people here. We have the pleasure of teaching with a couple, the wife of which is a famousish author! And further,
they really really like us. Which is always good. Plus they are a source of constant entertainment....but they are British so we
can't be too shocked that they are awesome. (Chickens. Mules, and Two Old Fools -Check it out on Amazon!)
- Jake and our friend Colton have started an A Capella group. It consists of 2 people and 1 song. Any suggestions to build their
repertoire would be much appreciated. I guess that's not so much a reason to come to Bahrain as much as a general plea.

We miss you all and hope you are well!

Cross Country Road Trip a Success!!!

Eid arrived last Friday! The once desolate desert expanding farther than I could care to imagine (only about 34 miles, ha!) is now thriving with life and activities. The main strip outside of our apartment building is now full of traffic all day and night. The shops are open, restaurants are open, and people here seem to once again be enjoying themselves. The enjoyment surely arises from their ability to eat during the day while staying hydrated. It is a completely different city and its wonderful.

This past sunday I had the distinct pleasure of being asked to be a godfather for my new baby sister, Allison. Words alone will fail to express how humbled I was when asked to serve this role. I was present at the baptism via Skype - it was one of the best moments of my year and will surely be one not soon forgotten. A precious baby girl!

Emily, myself, and two of our friends (Allison and Colton) decided to rent a car. It was a nice, brand new car for which we bargained the owner down – VERY NICE. We were not ready for the freeing feeling we experienced and we rather enjoyed every minute. Since we arrived our life has revolved around when Jamel could pick us up. Much of our time was spent either in the school building or searching for something to do within walking distance of the apartment building. Amazing as it is, we quickly grew tired of being soaked in sweat after only a five minute walk. Staying positive is something with which Emily and I place much focus. I have found it easy for others (those who have been here longer than myself) to fall into a negative mindset about this country and the people in it. While we enjoyed the five minute walk, and the sweat we earned, we were happy to have the car and battle the abundant cabin fever.

It was last Friday and we were all very ready to experience eating and drinking, in public, DURING THE DAY! Our first stop was one of the lavish palaces which just happened to hold a gigantic shopping center – ok its just a mall, but my goodness I can't begin to explain how immensely huge the building seems. There is even an indoor water park! The sparkling in Emily's eyes as we passed Prada and Gucci....priceless. We quickly found a nice cafe and ordered a nice lunch with tea and coffee. It was nice to be out and about on our own experiencing at least some of the outside life in Bahrain. Feel free to look the mall up on the internet – City Center and Seef Mall. We ate, walked around, and then quickly became bored and felt as though we should hop back in our car and explore. Why not? We felt cooped up for the past two weeks and the last thing we want to do is be indoors. Of course, we went to the other unnecessarily large mall. The girls were happy – Colton and I were enjoying ourselves as well.

It soon was dinner time and we found ourselves wandering past the food court. This isn't like any food court in a mall I have ever seen. Five star restaurants were lined up one after the other. Of course being the financially conscious teachers that we are, every menu was checked for prices and we all decided on the most reasonable, a Mediterranean grill. The food was delicious, cheap, and filling. What more could you want? It was great! We began to calm down a bit and some of us were in need of a nap so we left, came home, and realized that the day behind us was probably one of the best since we arrived.

A friend of mine from freshman year of college sent me an email two weeks back. Can't be any more random – turns out he was moving to Bahrain and living within a five minute drive from my apartment! Incredibly strange, but an amazing coincidence. We failed to keep in touch, as he transferred at the end of our freshman year, but since being in Bahrain Kent has hung out and become good friends with everyone in our group. What are the odds?


We rented our car for the week and we were going to get good use from it, keeping in mind that we filled our tank for only $5. Gas is cheap, cheap, cheap and if I had the money I would buy a car for the sole purpose of being put in a fantastic mood upon pulling up at the pump - rather than feeling the inherent pit that comes with spending $40.

The next day the Grand Mosque was holding an open house for all non-Muslims in the area. Allison, Kent, Colton, Emily and myself all decided to have another family trip. The two girls entered and went to the changing room to cover up. What I didn't expect was that upon entering, us three guys were frowned at by small elderly Arab women gesturing for us to follow her through a small opening. We were taken to a back room with white thobes because our shorts (Yes, Mrs. Meyer we were all three wearing shorts) were too short. I have never considered myself to sport the “daisy-dukes” trend; however, if the shorts show ANY section of the knee one must cover up. We didn't mind it, it was actually quite comfortable. We walked around to the different tables/artwork/speakers admiring the culture that we had experienced for the previous month and realized we had little knowledge beyond raw, surface level facts. Soon we grew tired of our thobes and the five of us moved on to explore the island and to see the Tree of Life.

We weren't sure how to get there, but we headed south and knew that within an hour we would reach the southern coast. We saw few signs and ended up driving to the middle of the desert without so much as a sign to point us in the correct direction. Luckily, we passed the middle eastern oil museum and asked the security guard for help. He pointed in a direction and told us to “go until the road runs out and then go to the right.” We promptly followed the road until it ran out and turned right. We drove for another ten or so minutes until we passed the prison and then saw signs for Manama. Obviously something was wrong, ha! Everyone was frustrated and exhausted from gazing upon miles and miles of nothing except sand. As we turned around we saw a big tree in the middle of the desert. We experienced our Ah-Ha moment and with smiles on our faces we drove towards the tree. Not a single sign! Its a national monument without so much as an arrow showing the way. We are on the only road we can see and realize that there isn't a road leading to the tree, which seemed a mile or two of the road. In our little four door we went off-roading and made it without much trouble.

It was a neat sight to see this blooming tree in the middle of a place so uninhabited and barren. As we walked closer we noticed two nice vans selling ice-cream and refreshments, but what really caught our eye was the graffiti covering the tree, as well as the people climbing from branch to branch! It was quite sad to see how poorly this tree, which has managed to survive and thrive in such an unforgivable place, had been maintained and preserved. We took several pictures, realized we should follow suite, and did some climbing on our own. After we took in as much life as we could from the tree it was time to leave, and while we failed to see signs for the tree of life we did see signs for a wildlife preserve. We got in the car and discovered the the car had promptly sunk in the sand. It took about five minutes to push the car on top of some harder land, but we did it and left for the wildlife preserve. Unfortunately it was closing in fifteen minutes from when we arrived and agreed to put it off for another day.

The sun was setting and we decided to find a beach to watch the sunset. It was an amazing beach with thousands of people. Besides the faint smell of fish, it was the perfect end to a perfect day. Our first successful cross country road trip, completed in seven hours.

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

I am certain that this day was filled with what made each of us come alive.

Sunset from our roof.

This is what we get to see every night. Even though the sun sets below the dust before the horizon it still great!

The visiting feeling has worn off...

This week I have begun to no longer feel as though I am visiting this fascinating melting pot of cultures and diverse individuals. There is a small, but abundantly stocked, grocery store (Al Jazira) which sits directly across the street from the apartment building. At first I would walk in and feel as though I was an outsider searching for something to eat in a far off and distant land; however, as of this week I feel confident and hold my head high knowing I can lead myself directly to exactly what I need. Reading this it may seem as though this realization is minimal, but I assure you there are few greater feelings than being able to find your away around a foreign market. A guy has to eat!

Its still Ramadan, and as Emily and I explore Al Jazira we see a multitude of families stocking up for the meal they will receive after sundown. I am still in awe that the fasting occurs from sunrise to sunset – the baskets of these families are FULL, and I can only imagine how great it must be to share a huge meal with your family for hours into the night. The end of Ramadan is soon approaching at the end of this week. I am far from considering myself a Ramadan expert and I am learning something new every day from my students. I have just learned that while Ramadan was suppose to end on Thursday, and Eid al-Adha begin on Friday (hence giving us the whole next week off) – no one is sure when Ramadan will end due to the fact that it all revolves around the phases of the moon. With that in mind tomorrow could possibly be my last day for the week; however, something might change and it could be Thursday. Amazing that everyone is so relaxed concerning the end of their religious holiday, but also that people, after fasting, aren't seemingly anxious for Eid.

During Eid, Em, myself, and a few others are planning on renting a car and exploring the island. Renting an SUV here, which we want incase of a sudden sand storm, only costs roughly $20 a day. I have volunteered to drive – it should be an experience. One of my students told me that every one here are crazy drivers and that if I signal to change lanes, someone will speed up and get past me...apparently basic rules for being on the road need not apply to the people here. I would imagine that is due to the fact that there is little in the ways of police enforcement. Poppa Cushing should make the trip over here and set up his own driving school to make some serious cash! We are going to explore the southern part of the island and see what else Bahrain has to offer. I know for a fact that we will visit the tree of life. We are also planning on swimming with some dolphins, for less than $5, and pearl diving.

Treated Like a King

This will more than likely end up being longer than any of you care to read, but I feel compelled to write concerning the past few days. It has been an interesting week, so here is my feeble attempt at enriching your mind with tales from Bahrain.

Let's begin with the school. I woke up ready and eager to see the building from which I will fill young minds for the coming year. It was to be my first day of planning inside my classroom, in addition to many meetings with the administration and my department. I wake up early and prepare myself for what should be an exciting eye opening experience. Our usual driver, Jamel, meets all of us at 7:00am on the dot, every day, and we begin our bumpy journey away from our apartment complex. I say bumpy journey because in Bahrain the buildings are built first, only then to be followed by the roads whenever anyone can get around to laying the pavement. No one is ever in a rush to finish tasks. Everyone takes a, “Oh it will done soon enough,” mentality. Its a bumpy ride across the sandy desert in front of our place, but it serves as a nice reminder that we are no longer in the States.

We drive through dilapidated neighborhoods that seem as though they should be placed in a filthy section of the city; however, we find everything to always be so clean. There is a foreign population of Indians and Pakistanis whose main purpose of living here is to make sure everything remains clean. This morning I saw someone using a spray bottle and a rag to wipe down a stop sign! They are serious concerning the cleanliness of their country and it shows with the cleaning of stop signs – to be sure they sparkle in the sunlight. There are high walls on either side of the road (when you drive through neighborhoods) and beyond the high walls are small homes, of which we cannot see the occupants. Every now and then we pass a massive, extravagant, out-of-place house which only serves our minds to wonder and think of what the residents hold as a career. We pass a run down building which serves as a school. Windows are broken, window units to serve as air conditioners (which in 110 degree heat, doesn't set well with one's stomach) and we are thankful and relieved that it is not OUR school.

We drive a few more blocks and we arrive at the elementary building for Modern Knowledge Schools. Emily smiles and realizes that the school buildings are painted and trimmed at such a higher level than all of the other surrounding buildings. I know she felt a small amount of pride as she walked through the enormous gate, guarded by three or four guards, into the building where 4th graders will be referring to her as Ms. Emily for the coming year. It was a great feeling to see her smile as visions of how she would decorate her classroom filled her head. I waved – she didn't notice, but I was so proud of her at that moment. I can't explain why I was proud. I was just overcome with the feeling that I know she is doing what she loves to do, and that in turn makes me happy as well. She disappears behind the enormous gate and Jamel drives all of us high school people to our building.

We are dropped off and walk through an even bigger gate, allowing us access to even bigger walls, and realize that there is an enormous courtyard for the students to congregate before/after/during school hours. On one end rests two soccer (or football, for which I have been corrected many times) goals for students to play with during the cooler months, and on the other is the main entrance to the school. One of the first things to catch my eyes were the bars on all of the windows. I'm not sure what this would suggest? Perhaps to keep people out in case of a cultural uprising, or to keep students from hurting themselves by falling through such massive windows – either way there are bars on the windows and if it wasn't for the students seemingly not caring I am sure it would have made a bigger impact on my impression of the school. I love the building as well as the people in it and I have yet to have an issue that hasn't been taken care of immediately, or without a sincere apology and promise that it will be soon dealt with. I feel as though I am greatly appreciated and that my time spent here in Bahrain is really going to help the students and the school. For that I am once again rejuvenated and feel that I have 100% made the right decision on where to take my life for the next year. Whew.

The building is three stories high and has all of the accommodations we would generally think of a school having here in the states; except of course for an intercom system. Apparently, it is far to hot and dusty to keep a working intercom system and therefor the administration communicates to the teachers via a memo, which is delivered by hand to each classroom. Makes it difficult sometimes, and especially difficult for this first week. There are teachers constantly coming and going, rarely staying for two years, let alone one full year. This makes it difficult to establish a solid foundation, or even to maintain certain educational standards. Last year MKS employed an individual who did not hold the best intentions. Apparently, he placed a worm virus (I know very little about this, so I know I will not be explaining it the best) into the school's network. This virus was not found until it was activated last week, three days before the students arrived. With this virus the IT teacher (who no longer lives in Bahrain, but is out traveling the world) is able to access and control the computers on the network from any location. He has destroyed files and corrupted the computers. To add to this amazingly awful disturbance to the beginning of our school year, the administration is unable to access the students' schedules.

The students arrive and the situation still has not resolved itself. The school scrambles to print off lists for the students to assign each a classroom, or home-base. The teachers are responsible for their room for the time being. For the first day, the students remain in the same room, with the same teacher and it is treated more or less like a welcome back, how was your summer, here are my classroom rules, day. Everything runs smoothly and the students fail to fully realize the severity of the situation – its a good thing. For the past week a new schedule has been put in place. First of all, each teacher is expected to administer diagnostic testing (fancy phrase they use to describe reviewing material they should already know) and to give lessons pertaining to anything in our field. I enjoy the blissful peacefulness that structure provides and for the first day of not having any structure, and being asked to teach, I find a level of frustration yet to be reached in my adult life; however, it goes well. Its the only thing we can do. A summer's worth of work on the schedules has been lost and the administration is frantically doing all they can to redo and organize so that we may fall into a normal class schedule. Whew.

It may sound overwhelming, but I assure you I have had the time of my life this past week. I have grown to know the kids in my class at such a high level that we spend an hour or two during the day talking about the difference between American and Bahraini culture. We discuss stereotypes and what they think happens in America – and what Americans think happen in the Middle East. I had one student today express his fear to travel to the United States. He thought that people walk around carrying guns and knives, and that murders occur down every street. Americans (dumb Americans) lump all Muslims into a category defined by the few unfortunate individuals that have ruined the reputation of the masses.

It has been an amazing experience and I can't wait to see how the rest of this year will play out. Emily and I are enjoying ourselves more than we ever thought – we have even adjusted to the heat by finding ourselves saying, “Its not THAT bad out here.” We are expected to experience cooler weather by the beginning of October...weather that drops below 90 degrees anyway. Apparently in the winter months we will be wearing sweaters and be spending a lot of time on our rooftop – enjoying the pool, barbeque, and the amazing view we have been blessed with until June.

“Energy and persistence conquer all things.”

Touring Bahrain

That past few days have filled my brain with information, excitement, and confusion; however, it would comfort most of you to know that I am completely and utterly enjoying myself here on this island which feels so much like and extended vacation. A couple days ago the school offered us a bus tour of Bahrain, which Emily and I were quick to get excited in hopes of seeing the cultural aspects and history this country has to offer.

Our first stop on the bumpy, dusty tour was Bahrain's Grand Mosque. The building was a sandy yellow color with tall towers and a massive dome - which seemed to be the center of the building. To see something so religious as this and to know that it is not related to Christianity gives a humbling feeling. My eyes were opened to the fact that such a smaller percentage of the world are Christians and that I would soon we walking through a place of worship for several thousands of Bahraini citizens. As I walked in the first thing I noticed was that the women and the men were being separated by a nice older looking woman switching back and forth from english and arabic saying, “Women to the right, men to the left.” Was Emily not allowed in the mosque? What's going on? At some other junction I might have been more concerned for the fact that Emily was being taken into a small room with a bunch of other women, but I was quick to be distracted by the architecture of this amazing place of worship. She would be fine!

First things first – we had to remove our shoes. One of the primary social rules here in Bahrain is that you do not to show the bottom of your shoes to anyone else. Its a sign of disrespect – all day you walk around on filth and if you can't respect someone enough to keep your soles pointed down then what kind of a person are you, anyway? That's the mentality here, so naturally we couldn't were our shoes with the filthy soles into one of the holiest places in Bahrain. It wasn't discomforting at all, made me feel as though I was a part of the culture. Emily came of the women's room fully dressed in her hijab. She actually didn't mind. “I would never have to worry about what to wear, or how to do my hear, but man its hot,” haha. She looked beautiful actually and I am sure enjoyed wearing it for the hour or so that we were walking.

I walked around for several minutes admiring and snapping pictures of architecture so profoundly intricate, yet simple in all aspects of the word. No statues, no pictures, no plants, nothing decorating the walls except verses of the Quran. We were walking around an open atrium which was directly outside of the main...sanctuary? Place of worship? Mosque? I am sure there is a proper name, but at the moment it escapes me. In a grand building, with glass bulbs for their lights, marble floors, stone pillars, massive doors weighing tons, it was all so incredibly simple that I was impressed with how muslims seek only the foundation of their religion. They are without any fluff to distract them – no figure heads, no single person to pray to, except Allah. I am not considering converting, but I had to appreciate the simpleness of their religion in theory, not in practice of course.

The next stop was the Bahrain National Museum. Nothing very exciting to write concerning the museum except the fact that Bahrain is constantly making the island bigger; bringing in massive amounts of sand to build man-made portions of the island. The Grand Mosque was originally built near the water, and now the coast rests miles away. Its funny how the government, and rich individuals, want to build, build, build; however, there are not enough people to occupy what is currently finished, and there will without a doubt not be enough to occupy all that is under construction. The last stop was the formula one race track. I can't begin to describe how massive this place seems. It is only used for one week of the year, but is probably one of the most expensive construction projects ever tackled by anyone in Bahrain. Unbelievable, and I will just leave it at that. It was a great tour with a long, much appreciated nap that followed almost immediately.