FIRE! RUN!

As teachers we deal with multiple interruptions to our daily routine. One such interruption comes in the form of drills. Fire, earthquake, tornado, lockdown .  . . the list is endless. When I was teaching in the states, we had a fire drill at least once a month. Though reassuring to know the system works, it was a huge disruption to the lesson that day. However, I have come into some information that makes me grateful for the simplicity of a fire drill in western culture.

As we are approaching the end of the school year, we finally had a visit from the municipality to talk about fire drills and fire safety. It is the end of the year! That isn't really the crazy part though. In order to have a drill . . . . what for it . . . . they set an ACTUAL fire. Yes, you read correctly, a fire is set inside the school to set off the alarm. No buttons to push here; our drills are hardcore.

It was just last week when we had our first fire drill and I found out their method. I laughed as I was being told by a colleague that they set a fire in the secretaries office. I did not know how else to react. Letting students light a fire in the school seems so ridiculously dangerous and crazy, that I thought it was a joke. However, yesterday as I left school they were testing the system to make sure everything would go well for the drill today. As I exited the front of the school, one of our bus drivers was standing on a chair with a lit piece of paper next to the smoke alarm. Yes folks, in order to have a drill here, we must first create fire. It was no joke before and now I am left hoping that they are practiced enough to not let it get out of control and end up turning into a real bad situation. 

Coming Home

As the school year slowly approaches its end, I am filled with nervous excitement. When I think about everything that has happened, I am flabbergasted. Does anyone even use that word anymore? Anyway, thanks to technology I have been able to see and talk to my parents and friends. Actually getting to hug them, sit and eat dinner, and other mundane daily activities, is what I am looking forward to most. It is crazy to think that I have not been home since September 2, 2010. I'm mixed with pride that I was able to adjust and build a life here, but under the surface is a bead of fear. The fear isn't because of my family, not really. Though I am afraid of not wanting to leave them again. It is such a strange feeling to think that in less than three months, I will be back in the States. Huh, interesting how I said States and not home. I guess it is hard for  to see the States as home when my daily life occurs here. The upcoming travel feels more like a vacation that it is a return home. In some ways my parent's ouse will always feel like home. A large piece of my heart will always be in the U.S. with them. They say home is where the heart is, but how does that work if your heart is in two places at once?

This experience challenges the way I define home. Used as an adjective like in home country, it is easily pinned down to a specific reply. However, when trying to define the place we call home . . . the answer remains a list. Can you have more than one home?

I know that the very fortunate often have more than one house that they spend time in throughout the year. The question is which one is home? I think what makes this so difficult is that at this point in my life I am in a transition. In reality your whole life is a transition from one point to the next,  but right now I am in that awkward stage of having family, but not yet having one of my own. Let me explain that a little better. I have lived at four different addresses since leaving my parents house after high school. Those four addresses are not including the dorms that spent three years of college in. My family is still defined in the same way: my parents, sisters, nephews, cousins, aunts, and all the other traditional defining factors. However, one day in the future I hope to have a husband and then I will have him, any children we have, his family . . . At that point, where is home? Is it just about where I live? I guess a lot of that depends on what my definition of home will be at that point. For now, I am not sure how I define home so I just see myself as having two: one in Abu Dhabi and one in the U.S.

In less than three months I will be returning to my home in the U.S. As anxious as I am about shifting cultures again, I am more excited about seeing the people I love most. It will be hard to go back and I sure as soon as I have adjusted and begun to relax it will be time to leave again. Such is life. I choose to look at it this way, either way it is all about coming home. 

The Same Old Routine

A lot has been going through my mind this past week. Now, it could just be the extra dose of hormones fluctuating right now, but if I have learned anything since being here, it is to not write off something too quickly.

You see, there is still a lot about this culture I don't know or understand, but for the most part I am settled. I go to work each day, come home make dinner, hang out with friends. Then, my weekend is usually spilt between time in Abu Dhabi and Liwa. Nothing spectacular. Now, I am not saying that there is anything wrong with a ho-hum life, but now that  life here has become routine, I find myself reverting to old habits, and they aren't the good ones.

I just have to wonder why we do that? Why is it that when something becomes routine, we fall back on the same old behaviors that made us unhappy in the first place? I know that a lot of it has to do with what makes us "comfortable", but that answer just doesn't seem to be enough for me right now. I want something better; something that will help keep me from going back to that dark place of self-hatred and depression. And to think a few days ago I was actually consider the idea that I might be able to ween off the psych meds. I guess I spoke too soon.

Maybe it is the summer itch, or the anxiety about what it is going to be like to go home. I think what is really bothering me the most is that there are so many possibility that I cannot know for sure which factor is strongest. I feel like I have woken up in another persons life and I cannot figure out what to do next. I guess I will just have to wade in the waters and hope that I can see where I step.