On the First Day of Christmas...

Katie and I have been working on some new lyrics...

Six new deadlines
Five thousand headaches...
Four burnt out music teachers,
Three weeks of madness,
Too many concerts,
and one crappy ugly auditorium.

And so it continues though the countdown is on to one week and only one more concert.

Band concert over and went well. Check.
Grade 5 concert over and spectacular. Check.
Elementary boys soccer over and done. Check.
Purchase orders for the next school year completed. Check.

Desk clean. Getting there.
Plans for trip to India solidified...still no visa, but I have a ticket to Mumbai on the 22nd of December. Will get the rest of the bookings done.

And now, my Christmas letter.

Dear Family and Friends,

Well, everyone, here I am, alive and relatively well in Kuwait. The temperatures are still reaching the 20s during the day which is unseasonably warm for this country. I can still wear a skirt, a sweater set and open toed shoes and be comfortable. The landscape is becoming more green and somedays the air is cleaner than others. The sun rises around 6:15AM and sets at 5:00PM. There are windows in my classroom and plenty of natural light.

Since arriving in Kuwait, I have changed a few personal habits. I have a mobile phone and am keen on text messaging. I often shop for clothes, but that's mainly because I didn't have many to begin with. Today, I am wearing a shirt with a "tasteful" amount of sequins. Bling! I frequent Starbucks for lack of better entertainment though I have found some much better coffee shops. I walk a decent amount, take taxis frequently and have returned to my old ways of "bumming" rides. Though I was excited to have no car, I am now excited to get a car again in the new year.

Last weekend, I visited an area south of the city called Wafrah. It is a farming area and my friends and I got to see an Arabian horse farm and farm with a field of short grass. There is not much for grass here in Kuwait and I never thought I would be so happy to see it. At both farms we were met with extreme hospitality and kindness, recharging my positive outlook on Kuwait and Kuwaitis. The air was cleaner than in the city and it was spacious and lovely. It's the simple things of home I miss.

I have taken some yoga classes with decent instructors, though I miss the yoga community at home. I do yoga almost daily on my own and highly recommend Rodney Yee's Moving Toward Balance 8 Weeks of Yoga.

I have made some good friends and have laughed more than ever. I laugh at all things ridiculous and there are many. I cannot even begin to adequately describe the madness that is Kuwait. You would have to see it for yourself, live it for yourself, to fully understand.

In Mangaf, where we live, there is garbage everywhere. Garbage and feral cats and awful smells. Sometimes dead animals on walking paths. Animals that will not be removed by anyone. It's very disturbing.

Outside our buildings, which are in Block 4, Street 27, Mangaf, the numbers 9 and 10 are formed on the security wall with duct tape. No splurging for iron numbers.

Drivers honk their horns constantly. Walking alone or with another female elicits extra honking, particularly from taxi drivers eager to earn extra cash. Men view western women as objects for, well, their viewing pleasure. The leers now go unnoticed though and I look the other direction and am no longer disturbed by these men who seem to have lazer vision and the ability to see through clothing. These men who look at women the way they'd look at water on a 50 degree Celsius summer day in the desert.

I am shocked when I see shoulders or knees. These body parts are always covered and I far prefer that to letting it all hang out. It surprises me to see couples holding hands in public. Males often hold hands with one another- it's absolutely normal here, a sign of friendship. Friends of the same gender greet one another with a hug and a kiss to the side of each cheek. The sincerity and affection with which the male students greet one another still amazes me. In rural Sask. there's a good chance you'd get the crap booted out of you for pulling that move. Men are still tentative to shake hands with women and it would be unheard of to see a farewell or welcome home kiss at the airport.

The kids at my school have maids and drivers. Many of the younger locals have nannies, too. These are underpaid foreigners who often carry the students' books and backpacks for them. An excuse for forgetting books: my nanny forgot to pack it.
An excuse for losing things: my maid threw it out. Some of the kids, well, they can do whatever they want because they're royalty and will inherit more wealth.

Here in the Arab world, the longstanding hatred of Jews is still commonplace. Don't even mention Israel. Here, it's called "Occupied Palestine". Seriously. So try singing The First Noel replacing Born is the King of Israel with Born is the King of Occupied Palestine. It's a bit ridiculous. That, to me, summarizes the madness that is the Arab world, especially Kuwait. Don't acknowledge that which you feel is unworthy of acknowledgement. No justification required- age old conflicts cannot be settled, just maintained.

And that said, most of the people I have met are good and genuine. Quite a few expat connections to Saskatchewan and the prairies and all things Canadian. I have some Minnesotan friends, too, who are much like prairie Canadians. I enjoy my job and colleagues and even enjoy living in the dorm situation.

I am happy and believe this move was the right one for me at this time in my life.

I miss home and friends and family but am so busy and have made so many good friends that it's easy to cope with the pangs of homesickness. I think of you all often and fondly and wish you the happiest of holidays. Be safe and be glad for all you have. Be glad you earned what you have. And know that I'm awaiting the greenest imaginable Christmas in India, where I plan to attend Midnight Mass in Goa simply because I can. Please enjoy the snow and ice and most of all, the festive cheer. I'll be there (playing Mexican Train Dominoes and Cranium) in my dreams.

All my love and undying affections to you, who epitomise the goodness that is the prairie.

Peace,
Ramona