Huffing and Puffing in Auckland

It's been a whirl-wind of a week getting settled here in Auckland.  We have been busy since the day we landed.  We moved into our very quaint and cozy little house in a suburb called Parnell.  I immediately thought of San Francisco's landscape.  You cannot avoid the hills here!  Since we won't have a car until the end of September, we are huffing and puffing all the way to the bus stops.  So far, we have discovered the local library, swim lessons at a place called The Olympic Pools and Fitness Center and Sailing Lessons for Finn and Charlotte at Royal Akarana Yatch Club.  All the little shops we need for our day to day groceries are right up the hill from us.  Just this morning Piper and I hiked up to get some eggs and milk for breakfast.  Everywhere we go, people are very friendly and helpful.  They are delighted that we are spending a good amount of time in Auckland and go out of their way to make us feel at home. We are getting along fine!

 

My New Camera - by Finn

My camera has lots of modes. If you hold the clicker half way it changes color (no, I wish) but it changes modes for the picture you want to take.

Close to the  top it has W and T.  The W stands for zoom out and the T stands for zoom in.

                      

On the top it has this symbol and a dot of red which stands for video taping. 

                       

It is also an underwater camera. It comes with a life jacket and a tripod.  The lifejacket is for underwater pictures so you don't lose your camera.

                      

My Friend Bree - by Piper

It  was  fun with Bree on the weekend.  

She played with me and taught me ballet.  

Bree helped me with a tree.  

We planted it.

                                      

                                                

                                      

                          

Ride your camel to work!

December 18 is Qatar National Day, much like the 4th of July in the USA. At Qatar Leadership Academy we celebrate the end of our term and National Day with a promotion ceremony for our cadets and a outdoor luncheon for faculty on the parade ground. When I got to the spot of the festivities I saw three camels, one falcon and an outdoor tent set up with traditional Qatari food.

Of course as the school's principal I was cajoled into riding the camel much like having to sit in the dunk tank at a school picnic. I think that certain amount of self-deprecation is needed as a high school principal. Something about seeing your boss in funny situations is good fun. Fortunately I like having fun and I leaped at the chance to ride a camel. I had ridden horses, but a camel was brand new.

Meanwhile my wife and children had a blast dressing up in the national dress. Charlotte and Angie went to the Souk and had custom Abayas made and the same tailor designed Piper's special dress. Finn was given his Thobe by one of my teachers who invited him and me to a lunch and trip to his farm.


People ask me, how are you enjoying it? They wonder if the place is good for my kids, is it safe, how are the people? I want to be perfectly clear. This is one of the best decisions that our family has ever made. The kids are settling into school really well. You need to remember that they were homeschooled their entire life. This is the first time any of them has attended school. Academically they are doing great, socially they are learning all the things that school brings.


I think we enjoy it so much because of our ability to have an open mind about other people's culture. We take the time to build relationships with our Arab neighbors, and coworkers. We have found them welcoming and very gracious. At the end of three months we have no complaints. We take the new situations that cause frustrations in stride. Thursday we head to Italy for Christmas Break, so all in all not a bad life to lead.


Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Garafat Al Rayyan & Dukhan Hwy,Ar-Rayyān,Qatar

Finally got to eat camel

"You eating lunch today?" - Asked Rashid, Head of Student Affairs

"Yeah sure," I said.

"Good I will make phone call go grab three male teacher," as he walks out the door.

What, the hell?  I thought the cooks had made something special at school for the teachers.  See last night we held our graduation ceremony which is a whole different but equally interesting story, and Rashid had canceled classes to give them a day off.  It wasn't a big deal because most parents had already taken their kids home Wednesday night, so it was going to be a very light teaching day.  So I has spent the morning with staff planning next year's calendar and then we were going to eat lunch together and dismiss early to head into the weekend.

Rashid comes back, "You must hurry, the General is waiting...Adullah will drive you."

General? WTF. I sprint into the lunch room and grab the first three teachers that have a suit on and drag them from their half eaten lunch and tell them we are headed to the Ritz for lunch with the a high ranking General of the Army.

Ring..."Yes Jamie here, Oh hello..yes we are heading to the Ritz...drive faster..ok"

"Abdullah, that was the Adjutant (Aid to the General). He said speed.  Very important that we are not late."
"No."
"What you won't speed?"  At this point while we are going the speed limit to Doha from Al Khor, I am thinking what will they do to me if I am late.  Fortunately, Abdullah knows how long it takes to reach the Ritz and we arrive right on time.  We meet the Adjutant in the lobby and we are whisked up to the 23rd  private dinning room of the Ritz.  Room is spectacular, over looking the ocean.  We are then introduced to the host of the party.

I need to explain how introductions happen in the Gulf.  We enter a separate room and a group of men are sitting in a "U" shaped group of sofa chairs, with a love seat at the bottom of the "U".  When we enter, all the men rise and a greeting ensues.  It is important to shake everyone's hand.  Then we begin the dance of who sits where.  The Adjutant, helps me out and directs me to a chair.  My teachers are escorted to another group of chairs away from us.  Still more men sit against the wall further away.  I know right away that this is an honor to be included in the first group of chairs.  We talk and the host engages me in English and I do my best not make any mistakes.  You see my host is a Prince and in my head I am thinking how the hell did a boy from Green Bay, Wisconsin end up being invited to a lunch like this.

Then the General enters.  We all rise, hand shaking and the chairs change.  There is a polite interchange between my host and the General as to who will sit on the right of the love seat.  The General protests, but it is apparent that he will take the most honored position.  We sit again, and this time an hour of conversation takes place between the host and the General, all in Arabic.  Most of the other men remain quiet listening occasionally adding a small measure of thought to the dialog.

We rise and then enter the dining room.  The dance of who sits where is played out again, this time I grab a seat across the table from the host and the General, but I am distracted by the food that is spread before me.  To my left and right traditional Middle Eastern appetizers are laid out in portions for my consumption: humus, olives, fava beans, shrimp, pita, salad, fresh mango juice, salmon, bread....These dishes are dwarfed by the main dish.  Imagine a circular steel pan three feet wide and 4 inches high.  A layer of saffron rice is the bed for a baby camel's hump. That would open anyone's eye, but now picture 6 containers, three with humps and three with the legs.

That would be a lot of food to consume, but the lunch is just getting started.  First course is a divine lentil soup served with lemon.  Then the wait staff brings everyone a plate of lobster, shrimp, and hamour, with more rice.  A special chef comes out and start to carve out the camel.  I am offered some of the meat and of course I take a portion.  What does it taste like? To be honest I can't recall.  It wasn't bad, and looked like dark turkey meat.  Then that plate was whisked away, and third course was brought out: mixed grilled kabobs, which is followed up with a fruit and desert platter, which ends with coffee.  An hour after being seated, we all rise and the lunch is over.  We are back in the car, heading back with Abdullah.

I have no pictures from this event other than the ones in my mind.  I thought it would be highly rude to whip out the iPhone and take a few.  I must say it was one of my top 10 lunches despite the fact that I understood almost nothing of the conversations.  It fires my desire to master the language, so next time I can fully experience the lunch.

Hurry Up and Wait

I got the call.  Yes I got the call,  May 1st would be the day.  The day to begin the process for my resident permit in Qatar.  A resident permit is everything.  You can't buy a car, you can't access your bank account with out it.  The big debate in America is voter ID, in most countries other than the US, you need an national identity card to do anything.

The process begins with the typing of your blood.  Head to the Hospital and a finger prick later, a 15 minute sit and you leave the hospital with a certified copy of your body type.  I'm "O" positive in case you are wondering.  It's known as the universal donor type, so I got that going for me.

Take the copy of you blood type and surrender your passport to immigration control.  Let's take a moment to discuss the feeling of surrendering your passport.  Imagine being all alone in a dark room with no way out.  That's what giving up your passport means.  It is the one document that proves who you are.  Most other documents you may have in your possession mean nothing. Officials do not have to recognize anything else.

Anyway your passport goes to immigration where something mystical happens and one day you get a call to show up at the rallying point for a bus that will take you to the medical clearing facility.  I was lucky, I only had to wait 10 days for that call and the weather was only 100 degrees F.  In August, when most of the educational employees go through this day the temps can range up to 120 degrees F.

The bus then takes you south in traffic to an industrial area.  I am the only one on the bus who is white and most of the passengers speak some Arabic.  After a 50 minute bus ride the bus stops and the driver looks at me and says, "Go to the V.I.P. section."  Cool I always thought of myself as a very important person, I know my mother does.  That's when I realize I am pretty much alone in a sea of humanity going through the same process.

They told me that I would be greeted by a man from the foundation to facilitate my process.  I get herded into a waiting room and told to sit down.  I look around and I see a slight problem.  Remember the passport, well everyone seems to have a passport with paper work, but me.  It doesn't take long for me to realize that without that little blue book I am going no where.  100 degrees F, remember.  So I act like a very important VIP and act cool.  I sit back and chill, inside I am freaking out.  I text someone at the school...no answer.  Thirty minutes later I spot the foundation man, remember the one who was going to greet me upon arrival.  Acting cool, I ask, "You from QF?"  "Yes," he says.  "Did you bring my documents?".."No, they are on the way." "On the way..cool."

An hour and a half, my handler hands me my documents and makes me cut in line to register.  They take the docs scan them and STAMP...Please follow the yellow line to chest X-Ray.  Please take of your shirt in the hall. Press chest against the machine, click...another STAMP.  Please dress quickly follow red line.  Stop, scan document, receive bar coded vial...STAMP.  Follow red line to blood draw.  Wait in line.  People cut in front of me.  My handler sends the guy to the end of the line and proceeds to get in a lively discussion with another handler in Arabic.  I stare forward.  My handler wins and I never see the other man again.  He has to go to the end of the line.

NEXT....I sit down the lady technician is a pro at taking blood.  Tube, fist, blood draw...while filling up the vial she STAMPS my form with her free hand.  She amazes me with her efficiency.  NEXT

I leave and hand my passport to my handler again.  Bye passport.  I will see it again when I get the next call to get my finger prints for my background check.

What was amazing about the experience, is that for the first time I can imagine what it felt to going through Ellis Island.  A sea of humanity often not speaking the language.  Pushed, pulled to the next station and deposited out on the street of New York.  One could take the experience personally, but I realize that the workers just need to move you through the line.  It may seem impersonal, but you have to be really impressed by the efficiency.  I am guessing they processed over 200 people that three hours.  I have heard that on a good day they can do over 500, with over 30,000 people a year.

That's a lot of STAMPS.  Stage one completed.  Waiting on the next call

What do you mean you don't know where I live?

It's funny how things circle back reappearing when you least expect it.  Though they often happen in times of life's transitions.  In 2000, a lifetime ago, I began working for Northwest Passage Highschool as one of 4 teachers.  In addition to my many educational tasks, I also had the distinct pleasure of picking and dropping students off at their house using one of our school's minivans.  

Early during the year I was asked to drop off Billy(not his real name).  Now Billy was challenged.  He was challenged because his family was not there for him.  They lived in trailer park outside of Blaine.  He was under credit and over aged, meaning he was 3 years behind his peers. Billy was dealt a pretty weak hand. 

Having worked in Minneapolis and St. Paul, the roads in Blaine were unfamiliar to me, which is why I was doing the drop offs. Add to this situation a world where cell phone were not common, I didn't have one at the time.

Sounds easy,  get in the van with kids and they point you to there house, right?  Wrong.  I found myself in the van with Billy after dropping off a number of students.  I looked at him, "Where to?" Response, "I thought you knew where I lived."  How does a kid not know the way home?

Fast forward to last night.  For those of you who don't know I just arrived in Doha, Qatar.  I spent a wonderful evening at colleague's house as a guest for dinner.  It was getting late and they ordered me a driver to take me home to Al Khor, which is 40 minutes north of Doha.  Everything's great, I jump in the car and we head off, except this time the driver takes a different route to Al Khor. The Eastern route I know, the Western route I haven't a clue.  Arriving in Al Khor, he turns and asks, "Where to?"  Response, "I thought you knew where I lived?"  Ah, Billy forgive me for my thoughts at the time questioning your intellect.

Novel experiences are the life blood of learning. Placed in a new situation our senses are heighten, and if we stay focused real deep learning occurs.  How as teachers can we place our students in these kind of learning environments?  To keep the learning fresh, to keep the learner engage.  That is the challenge, that is the mission of education.

By the way, I didn't have a working cell phone that night either. Go figure.