Party at Arak

There are times when I feel like I'm in the old television series, MASH. Instead of being surgeons in Korea, we are ESL teachers in the Emirates, but we are still doing a tour of duty over seas far away from our families. I'm more of a Honeycut (married with kids), than a Hawkeye (single but cynical). I fret and worry about what I'm missing out of at home, I have anxiety about the old roof on our house and the walnut tree's limbs not being trimmed, and how is that old double glider holding up? Those who have pets will also understand how much I miss my dark sheltie, Sammy. Ah, she's a beautiful creature, friendly but not fawning and the obedience of a sheep dog is deeply bred into her. But I won't bore you with tales of my dog. I just miss it all. So, being far away from friends, family and loved ones makes getting together and connecting with all the people here pretty important.

At the ESL program in our University, everyone is a temporary worker. People come and go. That's because there really isn't much incentive to stay long term. While the salary isn't bad, there are many places here that offer quite a bit more. There are no raises here, no retirement, only the minimum that is legal for health insurance is offered, no educational fee compensation, no married housing--and that's a big factor. People who have no commitment and only themselves to care for are free to leave at anytime and often "pull a runner"when they can't stand it any more. So when the going gets tough, the tough start going, as in leaving.

I'm afraid I've mentioned a lot of negative factors here. There is a lot I also like about working here. I love my students. The Emirati men are the best group of men I have ever met. I find them gracious, charming, and generous. When I first started teaching there, I was a bit put off by behaviours that I thought were rude, such as answering cell phones in class, talking while other students were presenting or getting up and walking out of class at odd times. But I have started to realize that this is a cultural phenomena, that rudeness is not intended, and the truth is that they are very respectful of the teacher according to the rules of their culture. In fact, respect for the teacher is a huge value. I am treated like a royal.

I also like my fellow teachers. Expat ESL teachers here come from all over the world and I have loved the cultural exchange that goes with it. I am so rich for knowing St. Joseph, from Kenya, Kyle from Texas, Jo Jo and Evans from Cameroon, Keveen was from France, people from, Canada, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, South Africa, Australia, Ireland, England, and everywhere in the world. It is so cool to go to parties like this one and have fun. It is a relief from the stress, isolation, and alienation that can happen while living for a long period of time in a country that is not one's own.

I've taken a long time to express my gratitude to the people who put these parties together. They are important.

A Reflection on the Brain, Mind, and Metaphor

The Date Palm Tree

You are a new palm leaf
Fresh and green
But I am old
And dates I’ve seen
And branches before me
Cut to the ground.
Generations lost
No longer around
Their memory there
Marked on the tree
Now stubs on the trunk
Of history.
And I see that our stories
Blend into one
With you at your height
And I, almost gone.
The man with the turban
Climbing so fast
He cuts me away
And into the past.

If they should write today

If William Carlos Williams
Wrote a poem today
Instead of ruddy wheelbarrows
For a poem, what would he say?

So much depends
on that black PC
Coated with dust
beside the stack of manuscripts?

What if Dickinson in 2008
with laptop by her lovely flowers
should sit word-processing her poems,
Dressed in white, for hours and hours?

There is no frigate like a Blog—
Linked to some grand websites!
Just move the Cursors down and click!
Heaven! –in those Byts and Bytes!

Eliot, alive right now,
Within his current rhymes,
What images would he relate,
In these post-modern times?

Kristoff Cat’s a computer hack
And steals identities!
He loves a world where nothing’s true—
Voiding all moralities!

I suppose we cannot know
Exactly what they’d say;
But I doubt they’d find a publisher
If they should write today.

Fujairah

NannyG invited us up to her new place in Fajairah, UAE. It was a wonderful place to visit and a very important break with some much needed R&R. Shokrun NannyG!

Michaelmas

Michaelmas is not a well-known feast day of the church, but it is one that our family adopted, along with Candlemas, St. Nicholas Day, and Santa Lucia Day, to celebrate in our own family context. We tended to have activities planned for St. Nicholas Day and Santa Lucia Day, but Candlemas and Michaelmas were simply in our remembrance. We called our house, Candlemas and meant for it to be a kind of sacred and peaceful place. We had read Thomas Howard’s book, “Hallowed Be This House” (long out of print now) and were very much influenced by it.

Michaelmas represented a dream for us as the name of a community, a commune of our old age in “the autumn of our lives” just as Michaelmas announces the fall. Whether this dream is ever realized or not, I still have this day in my eternal consciousness. This video is for my family on Michaelmas Day. It is my way of loving them from a great distance.

Dr. Who teaches the past tense

I used to love Dr. Who. PBS ran the series for a time. Tom Baker was the best Dr. Who ever, but I loved tje cheesy and cheap effects and the Dalacks. "Exterminate! Exterminate!" I thought I could use the time travel idea to talk about tense to ESL students This is mostly for fun though and a chance to be Dr. Who.

Going Home

I put the words to this song on my blog site a while back, but I thought I would put the song here now that I have finished it. I'm not a great musician. In fact, I don't think I'm a musician at all. I frequently go flat or sharp and I can't really keep a beat, but I like to tell stories. This is a story poem within a longer story poem called Peter the Pirate: the Commodore's Journey that I have been working on for years. I don't play any instruments, and the drum you hear is my fingers pounding on the desk. I have several "songs"in Peter the Pirate. This is the best of the bunch so far (which may not be saying much) For the sake of context, Peter and his Pirates sing this song to a ghost called Sammy Kirkendhal. It is a part of a rite that will allow Sammy to speak to them for a short period of time and give them guidance. I hope you enjoy it!