"You Are Named After the Dog?!"

Petra, for those of you who were asleep during 2007 (or who has, shamefully, never watched the action classic Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) is a series of temples and tombs--a city really--carved into the side of a canyon in the mountains in southern Jordan.  It was nominated in 2007 for one of the new seven wonders of the world (the previous seven having been mostly destroyed/disappeared), and it won one of the seven spots.

Personally, seeing Petra is on my bucket list (along with the remaining seven wonders and a mixture of other lofty (and some mundane) life goals).  Our trip to Jordan this winter was largely to see this one site, all though we did see some other attractions Jordan had to offer, the tale of which can be found here.

Without further ado, Petra.

Getting to Petra is an adventure in and of itself.  From Amman, it's about a 3 hour drive through some fairly fantastic countryside.  Mountainous and lovely and green it was a startling--and much appreciated--contrast from the largely flat and sand-colored Bahrain.  The greenery eventually gave way to the browns and reds of of the mountains.

Once arriving in Ma'An Jordan, the site is simply a few curvy, crowded roads away.  We stopped and got some shawarma's (sort of like a lamb, french fry, veggie taco) and a ton of water.  We were dropped off by our wonderful driver, Mr. Ramadan, at the ticket office (50 JD, which is roughly 70USD per person).  What we were unaware of at this time was how far the ticket office is from Petra proper.

We exited the visitors center and began about a half mile trek leading to the canyon.   The first thing that hits you after leaving the visitors center is the smell (and overwhelming presence) of donkey/camel/horse poo.  Throughout the tip, you have the option to ride a camel or donkey through parts of Petra (even up stairs!!) for about 5JD (or so they say).  We opted to walk, although it was not due to a lack of offers from some very persistent camel chauffeurs.

The path leading to the canyon

So many options for transpo...and so many sources of poop. 

Along the way to the canyon are caves and some carvings--a teaser for what is to come.  After that initial trek down a well marked path you enter a canyon.  You are in this canyon for about another half mile, give or take--the canyon is gorgeous and we spent far too long meandering through, admiring the colors and shapes of the canyon--and again the occasional hint-carving at what would be coming at the end of the canyon.

The canyon

Hints...

The canyon opens out into the stunning and highly memorable (again, you gotta watch Indian Jones) view of the treasury.  From here, you continue downward, where the canyon opens up.  Here you have some options, as there is so much to explore.  You actually could spend a couple of days here at Petra and I think that if you were to come visit it, spending an overnight in Petra, or Ma'An and getting a multiday pass is probably your best bet.  There is literally so much to see.

The Temple of the Crescent Mood...erm, the Treasury. 

We had heard from an Petra veteran that the place you want to get to, besides the treasury, is the monastery.  The monastery is located almost at the end of the park. Since the park is so big (according to an iphone, we walked 10 miles that day), we headed towards that monastery almost immediately, photographing the views along the way.  To get to the monastery, you must not only walk to the end of the park, but you must also climb up the mountain.  And as it was in China, climbing a mountain in Jordan means stairs.  Lot's and lot's of stairs.  Which some of you may know, are my arch-nemeses.

The stairs...so much stairs. 

Eight hundred stairs later, we reached the top (actually, you could continue for what I am told is a pretty spectacular view of the mountains) and rounded a bend and saw the monastery, which is just as spectacular as the treasury.  We had arrived in Petra around noon and at this point it was almost 2:30.  We decided we had better start back in the direction of our driver, a he was supposed to pick us up to take us back to Amman at about 4:30.

The Monastery

We made our way back down the stairs, surrounded by some truly amazing views of the mountains--and better able to appreciate them now that we were gong down the stairs instead of the much-more-arduous-up.  We paused along some sites on the way back to the entrance, including the tombs, albeit from a distance.

We also purchased some souvenirs along the way, including these bottles with designs inside made from sand--they use ground up rocks from the region for the colors.  A simple thing to remember Petra by, especially with the camel detail, as we passed several camels and their very vocal riders. I had read about these before leaving for Jordan, and was warned to get the ones with the natural colors as the dyed sands fade over time.

Again, you could easily spend several full days in this park, exploring every one of the numerous nooks and crannies, and if Petra is the only thing you wish to see in Jordan, I highly recommend you do--the city of Ma'An has several options for boarding, although it may be difficult to do on a budget as Petra is Jordan's biggest tourist attraction in a country whose economy is dependent on tourism (plus the U.S dollar does not win against the Jordanian Dinar).

"I suddenly remembered my Charlemagne. Let my armies be the rocks and the trees and the birds and the sky."

Despite the stairs (and the persistent camel-ride pushers), there is nothing disappointing about Petra. We definitely did not choose poorly.

Adventure in Amman

So our trip to Amman was not the smoothest of trips--although I don't think this reflects poorly on Amman itself, but getting their and leaving there was a regular pain in the butt.  Luckily the middle part--being in Amman and elsewhere in Jordan--was largely pleasant.

We booked our trip to Jordan through FlyDubai, a relatively newer airline in the region offering low fairs for shorter flights.  It's sort of the like the Jet Blue of the gulf.  And as you might know with Jet Blue, the fares are really not all that less expensive than other airlines.  But this is the thing about living in Bahrain--it's an island, so if you are going to travel, you gotta fly.

We booked our trip with one of their agents on the phone after struggling with their website for a while.  We booked this trip about a month before we left.  I went on to hostelworld to find accommodation and found a hotel that got good reviews on trip adviser (more on that later).

So we left Bahrain, excited, anxious, and ready for adventure.  We got a tad delayed leaving Bahrain, which made us all a little anxious that we were going to miss our lay over in Dubai.  We landed, ran to our gate (nearly leaving some of our luggage behind) only to discover that the helpful man at FlyDubai who booked our ticket...booked us for a 12 hour layover and did not say one darn thing about it.

Views from our airplane...Bahrain, the Gulf, and then Saudi

So, after a fruitless and frustrating battle with the very unhelpful woman at the gate, we found a reasonable hotel not too far away from the airport and crashed their for the night. Actually, if I ever return to Dubai, that is where I want to stay--for 89 USD per night you got an entire apt.  Two bedrooms, a full kitchen, living room, and two bathrooms.  It was kind of crazy.   We walked to a nice Indian restaurant where we ate some great food and laughed off our lay over as part of our Jordan Adventure.

Views of Dubai and our excellent dinner!

We finally landed in Amman and our hotel picked us up, at about 9 in the morning.  My first impression of Jordan is just how pretty it is.  It could be partly due to how flat and mono-toned (tan) Bahrain is, but Jordan is green, filled with olive trees, and wonderfully contoured--so many hills and mountain. We arrived in the Jordan Tower Hotel and despite the Hotel part of it's name, it is definitely more of a hostel.  It was clean and safe, but very basic.  As far as my hosteling experience has been throughout China, I would rate Jordan Tower as about average.  The staff was very helpful and prompt, (especially in fixing the hot water tank that was not working--cold showers = uncool) and as soon as we arrived, we put away our things, and booked a tour of Amman, including the Amman Citadel.

This is some prime ruins located right in the heart of Amman, including a Temple of Hercules and a Church, all in beautifully crumbling ruins. This was also where I realized the camera I brought was not charged (ooops) and my battery from my phone was at 20 %.  And I call myself an experienced traveler?!

Views of the Temple of Hercules

From the citadel we drove about an hour--maybe longer--to get to the Dead Sea.  We changed into our swimsuits--which felt strange, as I have yet to be that unclothed in Middle East.   We walked the short distance down to the beach and flung ourselves into the sea.  Now, it was only about 55 degrees outside, but the water was so warm!  We were a little concerned about this leg of our trip in December, but I highly recommend Jordan in the winter; the weather is mild--at most you would need a light jacket, and even the Dead Sea is warm. And I cannot describe the salt content.  It was the saltiest encounter I have ever had.  You really do not need to swim.  You can be standing up right--straight up pencil dive- and you just bob around like a fishing lure. You do not sink.  If anything, your lower body starts to float to the surface.  So you can just chill in the water forever and never sink or have to make any sort of effort at swimming.

The Dead Sea

Well, maybe not forever.  The salt does get to you after a while.  Any cut you have is going to be made known as soon as that water hits.  Also, the dehydrating is a risk and they tell you not to be in for more than about 20 minutes before re-hydrating and rinsing the salt off.   And if you are an idiot like me and dunk your head under the world's saltiest water, you are going to (blindly) make your way to the shore to dump fresh water all over your face and eyes to wash away the intense burning and spit out the can of salt that is now taking up residence in your mouth.  So. Much. Burning.  Literally the 3rd or 4th worst pain of my life.   Do not, under any circumstances, dunk your head under that water.

Frolicking about the Dead Sea.  The smiling occurred before I dunked my head under the water.  I do recommend bringing flip flops or water shoes.  The bottom of the sea is rocky, and I managed to tear up my toes nice and good as I blindly struggled to shore for fresh water to make the burning stop. 

All that salt, however, is great for your skin, and we were all feeling real exfoliated and smooth when we left. The next day we went to Petra and that experience can be found here.  On our third and final day in Jordan we visited Jordan's second biggest (after Petra) tourist attraction and that is the Roman city of Jerash.

This place is so cool, and huge!  I mean, its not on the same scale Petra is on, but it is literally the remains of the center of a Roman city located in the middle of a modern city.  We entered via a visitors center and were greeted with Hadrian's Arch.



Right inside the Arch were the remains of a stadium for some sweet chariot races.  You could climb on the remaining seating and wander the ruined remains of the rest of the stadium.

After the stadium you were presented with some options.  You could either head through the Forum and along a long and really cool bumpy road or up the dirt path to explore the Temple of Zeus.  We opted for Zeus and had fun exploring the remains of his temple.

Temple of Zeus

We then made our way up a path overlooking the Forum and here we split up.  Half of us went to look at these beautiful preserved mosaics on the floor of what used to be a Byzantine Church.  The other half passed the rear St. Theodore's cathedral and made our way up to the Temple of Artemis.  We reconvened at the the Temple of Artemis and then split again (we needed to see those mosaics too!).  We met again in front of St. Theodore's.

Above: The Forum
Below: View overlooking Jerash

Remains of  a Byzantine Church Mosaics

Temple of Artemis

St. Theodore's Cathedral

We made our way back to the Arch via the bumpy road and through the Forum.  We did no research on Jerash before going to Jordan (Petra being our goal) but our driver talked us into it and we are so glad he did, because it was awesome. (My history-teacher heart was nearly exploding all the history and the ruins!).

We returned to Amman and found dinner at a great cafe called Jafra's.  We found a sweet shop, again recommended by our driver, that sell something called kanafeh, a.k.a the greatest thing ever. It's basically pastry, fried in butter with a layer of soft cheese (also fried) and then covered in syrup and garnished with crumbled pistachios.  I like to just call it heaven.

I give you: Kanafeh

We went to bed super early that night, partly due to the exhaustion of all the walking, climbing, and stairs from the past couple of days.  And partly because our flight was at 8: 45 am the next day, which meant we needed to be at the 50 minute away airport at about 6:45. We made to the airport on time...noticing with some trepidation along the way that we were surrounded by some pretty heavy fog.

We got through security, got to our gate and waited.  And waited and waited and waited.  We constantly plagued the very nice personnel at Queen Alia airport every time they made an announcement in Arabic but not in English to make sure that they were not talking about our flight.

But no representatives from our airline, FlyDubai.  Finally, about 8 hours later, they said the flight would leave at 10:30...at night.  So they took us to the airport hotel, fed us, and put us up for a few hours (I had the shower I didn't have the energy to take at 5:30 that morning).  We got back to the airport about 2 hours before our flight left.  They took us from the gate via a bus and stopped the bus about 20 feet from our now 14 hour late plane. They then did not let us off the bus or tell us why for about 10 minutes. This is when all the people who had been murmuring "FlyDubai first and last time" and "FlyDubai, never again" began yelling to get the ground crew's attention. When that failed, they began pounding on the windows with fists, canes, whatever.  Let's just say the overall atmosphere was 'rage.' They finally let us off the bus to get on the plane and the grounds crew got reamed out by our very vocal, very upset, fellow passengers.

We left a little late--shocker, I know--from Amman.  We landed in Dubai after a 2 1/2 hour flight and had a 3 hour layover in Dubai.  At this point, we'd been awake for 24 hours.  But we landed in Bahrain at about 7:30 am, safe and sound.  I've pretty much been sleeping since I returned, but Jordan, overall, get's two thumbs up.

My super cool Jordan-filled passport!

FlyDubai, however, gets a slap across the face and poop slung at it.  Terrible airline.

The Chairman Mao

The Chairman Mao is probably the most disgusting shot that I have ever ordered in my entire life.  It can be purchased (although rarely is) at an Expat Club in Hangzhou called The Vineyard.   The Chairman Mao is the unpalatable combination of (rumor has it) two of Mao Z's favorite things: hot sauce and vodka.

I don't recommend taking a sip of The Chairman Mao.  You know, to sort of brace your taste-buds for the onslaught? The relationship between your tongue and this beverage is not going to get better upon re-acquaintance.  First impression: yuck. So I recommend committing to this shot, and plugging your nose and swallowing the whole thing in one go.  It's as awful as it sounds.

So.
Much.
Burning.

The Chairman Mao....it tastes like poison...and fire. 

Now, you might be thinking: why on earth would any sane human put that combination of things into her body?! Literally, why the hell would you do that?! Especially when the club offers a variety of much more gustatory-ily satisfactory shots (lemon drops anyone?!)  This brings me to the subject of my post today: 'cause why the f**k not?

Guess which face accurately represents the post-Mao feeling? 

No one has stories about the time they almost did something crazy (or stupid or maybe just a little silly).    You don't tell a story about the time you were in a bar with two great friends, discovered this horrible shot, and then didn't take it.  You don't share a story like that, but you do think about it.   You think about that time  you almost did something and didn't.

Now, life is full of choices; you have to say no to some experiences, because you would then be saying yes to other experiences.  But if you are presented with an opportunity to do new things, have new experiences, live a totally new life...why would you ever say no to something like that?

Taking that first big step is the hardest.  Throwing caution to the wind for that first time is the worst.  I am not necessarily talking about packing up your life and moving abroad--it can be something like saying yes to your mother for the first time the one hundredth time she's asked you to come with her and her work friends to lunch.  It can be finally going up with your drunken friends to sing your favorite group jam on karaoke night. It can be running in a marathon. It can be finally starting that book series your best friend has been bugging you about because she, "like totally knows you would looooooooooove it!"  Or taking that new job. Or it can be packing up your life and moving to a new continent.

My point is, that first step is the hardest.  It's filled with all the unknowns.  It is chock full of unpleasant 'what-ifs."  And you can research and prepare, but you can't get rid of that "what-if" induced anxiety.   Because you simply do not know what is going to happen after you take that first step.

And I am not going to lie, not all my experiences abroad have been sunshine and unicorns.  I have had medical emergencies in hospitals .  I have found myself stranded without money. I have missed births, weddings, holidays, and deaths; I have missed home and my loved ones so very badly at times.  I have found myself on different occasions lost, frustrated, and scared....and sometimes alone.

I do not regret a single moment of my choice to live abroad.  Not one single moment.  My decision to come to China, and then subsequently to Bahrain...that is my Chairman Mao.  That is my often unpalatable combination of the unknown and the what-if.  I have seen and done so many things---and met so many truly amazing people--I never would have if I hadn't plugged my nose and took a shot.

Even if there was a lot of somewhat uncomfortable burning.

Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunch

Every Friday in Bahrain, at all the major hotels have something called Brunch.  This is more than simply a meal that is too early for lunch and too late for breakfast; that's just regular old lower-case brunch.  This is different; this is Brunch with a capital B.

Brunch is sort of the Middle East's cutting loose. Now, Bahrain, unlike many of its more conservative neighbors is not a dry country.  There is a lovely little (slightly sketchy from the outside) widowless store behind the Gulf Hotel that sells all manner of libations, for very resonable prices.  That being said, its not exactly a open-containerless, stumble about town kind of environment either.

So, as a compromise, we have Brunches.  To attend a brunch, you pay about 50$ USD (prices vary depending on the quality/reputation of the establishement and whether or not you want alcohol to be a part of your day.)  The Brunches typially begin around 11am and end around 4pm.  For these five hours, you spend your time in an environment of unlimited food and booze.

It's like a frat boys wet dream.

Unlimiiiiiiited. 

Wonder-bar-keep plus batman challenge equals this face. 

 You literally sit around with your friends, eating as much as you can, while a man behind the bar hands you a new glass every time you run empty.  The most challenging part of the event becomes navigating through the mounds of food to get back and forth from the bar without tripping.

And I am not talking about your average, every day kind of fare.  The food is fantastic.  Meat cooked to order (and every kind of possible meat you could want: beef, lamb, chicken, pork--you name it, they'll cook it for you).  Fish and every manner of seafood--I had sushi! And it's not just fried shrimp; we're talking about all manner of fancy sea foods; I had oysters and what-not.  There was a whole room dedicated just too cheese. A freaking room of cheese.

Look at all that food! I am sorry I don't have more pics of the food.  Because it took up several rooms and covered all manner of land and sea creatures.  And every kind of carb known to man.  I do have video, buuuut, its not the best (free booze, people, you do the math). 

This is the cheese room. 

And do not get me started on the deserts.  They were amazing.  We are talking tarts, cakes, puddings, pastries, fruit, custards--in the cutest darn arrangements, it was like "do I eat this or do I just take a thousand pictures of it 'cuz its so damn cute?!"

The Movenpick, home of not just one, but two chocolate fountains. 

LOOK AT ALL THE ADORABLE DESERT!!

Any one who visits me will be taken to a brunch and that's that.

Josh and Other Incidents of Carefully Planned Luck

As I sit here now, in my free period at end of the day, I realize that this moment is the fruition of so many carefully laid plans and just pure, accidental luck.  I'm talking right place, right time, right mindset kind of luck. 

At 18 I decided that for the rest of my life I wanted to be a teacher. This prompted me to apply to colleges with good teaching programs, and subsequently accept an offer from on of them.  The goal was that after four years, I would be standing in front of my own social studies classroom. Yeah. 

This educational course was planned (if you can really plan anything at 18); I planned to go to college to be a teacher.  However, let's just dash a bit of luck in there; I wound up hearing about and choosing to apply to live in an international dormitory. Here I met some pretty amazing people and learned some intriguing things about the rest of the world.  Wander-itch inspiring things. 

Then I decided to go to graduate school.  I can say I did this because I need a masters to continue teaching in New York, and that is certainly true.  But if I am being honest, it's because I was not ready to leave school yet.   In graduate school, I just so happened to be registered for a course with a professor from China.  A professor that invited her whole class to come teach in China. 

Circumstances led to a certain lack of desirable local social studies positions, which led me to think about the reality of teaching in China beyond, "Oh hey, that might be cool."  I put into motion finding and securing a job in China.  I went to China and loved it.  However, teaching English as a language was not really what I had been trained to do, nor where my educational passions lay. While on summer vacation and traveling about China, I happened upon a man named Josh in a hostel.  Josh told me all about an organization whose main goal is to pair teachers looking to teach outside of the United States with schools looking for native English speaking teachers.  He literally told me how I could continue teaching abroad while also earning a more competitive salary and teach the subject matter I preferred.  I just happened to run into a man in the mountains of China who was handing me a path leading exactly where I wanted to go. 

When I got home from China, I registered for this organization and began a process that would take over a year to complete, but would land me in Bahrain.  Teaching Social Studies.  In front of my very own social studies class for the first time. 

That vague and distant future plan that I had when I was 18, nearly ten years earlier, has finally come to fruition.  It has taken turns that, at 18, I could never in a billion years have thought it would take.  If you had told 18 year old Rachel that she would live in two different countries before she was 30, she would have laughed in your face.  18 year old Rachel did not want to go to college.  18 year old Rachel both feared and hated change.  18 year old Rachel wanted to buy her parents house from them and live in it for the rest of her life.  I am not sure there was any profound moment that changed my life plans, just a lot of opportunities that I didn't hesitate (much*) to explore. 

But here I am in Bahrain, wrapping up my sixth day of teaching in my first social studies classroom, finishing a blog post that was supposed to explain to you what my teaching experience has been like so far, when my day starts, the kind of classes I am teaching.  Spoiler Alert, provided I don't get hit by any more moments of "how did I get here?" my next post will elucidate my life as a teacher. 

I mean sometimes, how I got here is literally mind blowing.  You ever have that feeling? 

* Okay, there was definitely some huge and overwhelming hesitations for many of my big life decisions (I mean, choosing to live in the Middle East was not an easy decision) but I went ahead and did them anyway. 

"It’s hot, damn hot, real hot. Hottest things is my shorts, I could cook things in it."

Robin Williams aside, this is probably the hottest I’ve ever been.  It’s a heat that I simply have no context for; China did not get this hot.  Bermuda (I vacationed there recently) was not this hot.  New York has never even seen this kind of heat/humidity combo.   Just for an example, one of my colleagues left a candy bar in the trunk of the car.  When we came back this candy bar was pure liquid.  Not just mushy, but a completely different state of matter; you could mush it around the way you could manipulate those pouches of milk you used to get in elementary school.   Oh, and one more detail: This was a night.  This was the nighttime chocolate-melting temperature.

And yes, I also mentioned humidity.  I know you might be thinking, “wait, aren’t you in a desert?” Because that is what I was thinking too.  But this desert is surrounded by the sea.  And apparently where there is sea, there is also humidity.  Some of you might be thinking: “Good grief, this sounds aweful!”  However, I am still not complaining because January is going to be about 60 and sunny, and I have never in my life anxiously awaited the arrival of January.  So, despite the soul withering heat, I’ll take it.  I will not see snow, unless I deliberately expend the energy to seek it out, for a full two years.  Let that one sink in.

So, my flight to Bahrain was unavoidably awful, even though this was one of the best airlines I have ever flown on.   I am sure the good people who invented flying could not have imagined stuffing a few hundred people in a small metal box for 12 hours.  And the marvel of jet travel aside, that is a long and uncomfortable flight. 

Needless to say, when I landed on Friday at around midnight on Friday night--a.k.a really early Saturday morning (mind you, I’d been awake since about 7am on Thursday morning) I was the definition of a hot mess.  I was met at the airport by a host of current teachers, including my department head (this is only the beginning of how awesome this school is –I mean, it’s midnight and your department head is meeting you at the airport==amazing!), and the woman in charge of HR (who had been super awesome about answering my questions prior to moving and making sure all my documents were set).  This woman actually didn’t recognize me, which I think says something about how I must have looked that night.

We got into our apartments late, but there is this sort of giddiness that overcomes you when you finally get to where you are going, so I was pretty stoked that night.   I waited as the driver helped me lug my things into my new digs—there is an elevator in my building, which made this final stage in my travel much less difficult.  I waited for the driver to leave, after explaining the next days activities to me, and then as soon as the door shut, I began to giddily explore my apartment.  I think I might have been frolicking. Also, I think I am in love.  There is just a ridiculous amount of space in here. I mean, I have a spare bedroom AND bathroom.  And it's just me. 

I started my next day at 11am...or rather at about 9:30, as I was supposed to be downstairs and presentable by 11.  We were met by the principal of the elementary school, who took us to brunch and then around to one of the giant malls to outfit our apartments with whatever vital products we felt we needed.  To be honest, I was not in my right mind (jet lag is a real and powerful thing people). So I left the grocery store with eggs, potato chips, and a bag of oranges....and not much else.   The next day, Sunday, began our week long orientation, where we got to know each other, the school, the curriculum (sorta--we had some technological errors there), and how the school worked.  Between the jet lag, the information overload, and the crazy heat, I pretty much collapsed each evening in my apartment; I don't know if I have ever been so grateful for a shower and a bed.

Having now been here a full two weeks--holy crap!--I do have some things to say about Bahrain as it compares to my experience in China.  For one, Bahrain is so much more convenient.  I am not talking about the school (although I will get to that in later posts).  I am just talking about life.

I have not run into anything that I cannot buy here.  I can buy razors.  To shave my legs.  This was impossible to find in China, unless I wanted to use an electric one (you know, the one men use to shave their faces).  I can get medicine here...western medicine.  So if I have some kind of illness, I can get Mucinex, and not some form of herbal tea. I can find food and brands of food here that I can get back home.  Don't get me wrong, I love diving full force into a new cultures food, but sometimes you just need that taste of home, and this place has it in abundance.

I swear to god I am not a junk food fiend, but salty junk food is my comfort food and what I hunt/crave when I am away from home. 

This happened.  What can I say? Chocolate and peanut butter--why are you so hard to find in the rest of the world? None of the people I was shopping with had ever heard of them (CAN YOU IMAGINE?!)...I enlightened them. 

See, I try new things too!

Everyone speaks English.  Everyone.  I am not saying that this is vital to my happiness in a foreign land.  In fact, I do belive that you should learn the language of whatever country you are living in, to the best of your ability.  However, my life is made easier by the fact that I do not need to know Arabic to converse with anyone--shop keepers, bank tellers, food service workers, taxi drivers; you name it, they speak English.  And it makes arriving here and settling-in a much more fluid experience.  I called a customer service line for my phone and that guy spoke flawless English. I guess I came prepared for a struggle, for things to just be harder and more time consuming, and that is not really the case.   But it is nice feeling over prepared.

Of my initial impressions of Bahrain the one that I think is going to be the hardest for me adapt to is the landscape.  When I arrived, I thought all those brown patches of sand were construction sites or maybe beaches (the ones near water).  I have since realized that they are just open land.   There is not a lot that grows here, making it very brown.  Coming from a fairly verdant home and a pretty scenic experience in China, this is going to be hard after a while.  To make matters worse, everything is painted brown so that it doesn't really show the dirt when the sand blows around.  I am sure I will be fine and make due with investing in some house plants, but I think its going to be the thing I miss the most--nature. Or rather, a lush green sort of nature.

A lot of brown. 

But some really neat architecture!

It's coast is also quite lovely and two nights ago I happened to catch a pretty marvelous sunset. 

At the risk of trying to fit everything happening in the last two weeks into one chaotic blog post, I will stop here for now.

It was actually cooler today.  And by cooler, I mean no real appreciable difference in how hot I felt when outside...but I was not as thirsty today.

The Closet Extrovert

I am taking a brief, one-post-long, hiatus from the China-travel-stuff to talk about something that has been kicking around in my mind a lot lately...probably for the last year or two.

I spent the first 23 or so years of my life identifying with what all those personality tests call "the introvert." Now, society seems to (inaccurately, of course) paint these people as the dark-clad, eye-contact-avoiding, stuttering, awkward weirdos that everyone in the office seems to want to avoid.  Don't get me wrong, stick me into certain anxiety inducing scenarios and I have (and probably will again) morphed into just that person.  But I think I have been misdiagnosed.  Or perhaps incompletely diagnosed is a better way to put it.

Most of these personality tests ask you about how you prefer to spend your leisure time, how you interact in work and social situations, and what kind of activities you prefer.  When you finish, it tells you whether or not you fall into those two categories--the introvert or the extrovert.  There is typically a little blurb at the end that tells you what, in generalities, your personality is like.   These things tell me that I do not like calling attention to myself and avoid being at the center of it, that I need a lot of time alone, etc.  They are about as accurate as your horoscope; they have just enough in there that seems true or in alignment with how you view yourself, making you ignore or excuse that which does not quite fit with who you are.

Well, pretty much anyone who knows me fairly well knows that identifying me as 'introverted' is an outright lie (although I do tend to approach new social situations hesitantly, observing for a while before interacting and make close friends slowly, along with a slew of other 'introverted' characteristics).  Given these characteristics, maybe there are just not that many people who get to see me in my attention hogging element.  I mean, I am sure that if any of the people I went to school with remember who I am, they would describe me as quiet, shy, and, yeah...introverted.  If any of my close friends and family were to describe me?  Totally. Different. Story.

Now, this has changed a lot in the last four years or so, for a variety of reasons.  College, China, gained experience, loss of fear, growing into the personal I want to be...I could go on (seriously, I feel like the last few years have just been one Big Bang in my own personal cosmos).  Along with this growth and self realization, I also came to the conclusion that I didn't really change all that much.

I have always, to a certain degree, craved the spotlight.  Even when I was back in grade school.  I wanted to interact with people and answer all those questions the teacher posed to the class.  I always had a quite a few thoughts, opinions, comments, snide remarks, and witticisms floating around in my brain. It was not a lack of desire to be in the thick of things that got in my way.  There was just a great deal of fear stopping me.

I didn't answer the teacher's questions because what if I was wrong?  Or what if the other students thought I was super lame for actually caring about school work--don't judge, we were all fifteen once, right? I didn't interact with too many of my peers because what if I said something silly?  What if I said something that proved what a huge nerd I was or how much I didn't know about whatever it is that teens are supposed to care about (clothes, makeup, sex, fashion, music, television, etc).

Well, as I have talked about briefly in some other blog posts, I have let a lot of that fear go (probably too much of it--fear keeps us from doing stupid things).  Without this fear, I feel like I have been able to grow into a person that is not operating at so many extremes--its so much nicer to be yourself always, rather than slightly (or sometimes extremely) modified versions of yourself.  I mean, if you're buried under layers of social anxiety and such, it's no wonder you check "needs a lot of time alone" on those personality tests--it's the only time  you get to be yourself!

And thus for those people walking around, cloaked under introversion, but craving the spotlight, I have a invented (alert Websters!) a new name for you--A Closet Extrovert.  You know who you are--you want that attention.  You go to karaoke bars and then don't sing, or only sing after you've knocked back a few and only then if you are part of a large group (and you always stay in the back).  You are the one sitting in class silently fuming because you have reached whatever conclusion the teacher is spoon feeding the rest of the class, and we all could have been spared this slow torture if you'd just raised your hand 30 minutes ago. You're the person who is posting a bunch of really awesome stuff online and your screen name is a series of emoticons (unless you are posting something sensitive about where you work or you live in some kind of oppressive government state, this level of anonymity is unnecessary).

I am not saying there are not honest to god introverts, because of course they're are.  There are people who take one look at karaoke and shudder.  I am also not saying that I do not frequently need to retreat into somewhere quiet and chill with a book for a few hours after I have spent the day doing social things.  Or days where I don't talk to anyone. I still maintain a small group of really close friends (everyone else qualifies as friendly acquaintances).  If there is one thing I have learned about going from living alone to back with my parents is this: I LOVE LIVING ALONE.  I love having my own space. I love being able to walk around the house talking to myself about stupid topics and busting out a few less-than-coordinated dance moves and knowing that no-one is going to walk in on me.   I suppose these qualities make up the more introverted part of my personality.

But I also love being around people. I love big cities. I love drawing on the energy from big groups of people like some kind of vampire.  I mean, what feels so good about coming home and being alone is having come from being out with friends and having a good time.  My personality has some distinct extroverted flavor. When I finish being cloistered in my room for hours after reading a book, guess what I do first? I go find someone and ramble on endlessly about the book I just read.  I love making people laugh and the energy you get from hanging out with others.  Although, I will admit, I do prefer to tackle time with my friends in a one-to-one, or group-of-three-or-fewer basis.  Not because seeing them all together is overwhelming, but because I like to devote all my time and attention to that friend--I feel like that strengthens and affirms our friendship, rather than dividing my attention between five or seven of them.

I have gotten rid of a lot of that fear I was carrying around. I only care about the opinions of those I love and respect, or those pertaining directly to my career.  Everyone else?  Who cares?  As for singing in karaoke bars?  Bring it--I mean what is the difference, really, between four walls and a room full of drunk strangers I will never see again?  Nothing.  Drunk strangers = just as good as singing alone.   Someone thinking that my behavior is silly or whatever is their right as an observational human being, and of absolutely no consequence to me (you  know, unless they're my boss).

I think trying to fit people into either introverted or extroverted is limiting.  I mean, I appreciate my years as being effectively mute in social situations.  Its made me pretty good at reading people.  It's also made me a pretty good listener and a patient, empathetic person.  I also appreciate those extroverted qualities.  I like being able to mingle with strangers (thank you, customer service job) without having a panic attack.  I like being able to freely share my thoughts and opinions on a bunch of topics.  I like holding an audience captive--either my friends, my family, my classes--and having the spotlight on me.

I bet there are a lot of people out there who don't really fit into the introvert category, even if they do exhibit some distinct introverted qualities.  Even if they do prefer some quality solo time and are exhausted by other humans.   I bet they look at that introverted description and feel that there is something missing.  Same for the ones that qualify as extroverted.   Maybe this deserves to be a both/and sort of discussion, rather than and either/or.

Like I said, I have been thinking about this more in the last few years, largely when confronted with the stark contrast of the image of myself when I was 18 to the person I have morphed into.  I wonder how many extroverts might be hidden away under layers of fear-based introversion (again, there are real introverts, I am not saying there aren't) who maybe just haven't realized their hidden extroverted personality components?

Checklist

As I believed I have mentioned before, my mechanism for coping with my pre-China anxiety was to simply go to sleep, where I could not think about it any longer.  For Bahrain, it seems to be to avoid thinking about it all together.  Unless I get an email from the school asking me to complete the next step in the process of getting me over there (physical, visa, etc), whenever I start thinking about the mundane things I have to do to get ready (what to pack, what to ship, etc) I generally just sort of shake my head, and think, "later, I'll worry about it later...I'll sit down tonight and make a list of what I need."  Well, later is always filled with other things, and so later just keeps getting pushed further and further back.

Well, I finally figured out that it is probably time to stop doing that, especially after a friend reminded me that pretty soon later is going to turn into right now. She also reminded me of how much I do not like being stressed about last minute plans. I manage to roll with the punches, but it takes a toll on my mental well being when I am rushed.  What can I say, I'm a planner.

So, as I started to sit down and make my list of what to bring, I was struck by how different this list is from my list before I went to China.  For China, my primary concern was making sure I had enough professional clothing/outfits to get me through a few weeks of teaching and that were also appropriate for the weather I could expect in Hangzhou.  Well, it turns out in China that as long as you are not in ripped jeans and something showing way too much cleavage, pretty much anything goes.  It is also perfectly acceptable in China to wear the same outfit more than once per week, and even consecutively.  Thus, I found myself completely discarding half of my wardrobe (cuz who wants to wear dress slacks and blazers if you don't have to, am I right?)  However, I am pretty sure my suitcases were stuffed almost exclusively with clothes (I had some make up, bath stuff, and a towel, that I can remember).

Bahrain is a completely different story.  Yes, I am still packing a variety of clothes, but I have been teaching long enough to know what is professional and what is not, and I have been instructed by the school as to what is acceptable for teachers to wear and what is advisable for women to wear (culturally) when out and about town.  So I am good there.  However, I find my self thinking of a bunch of other things that I would not have considered packing for my maiden travel experience.  If you're considering spending a lengthy stay in a place far from home--I am talking at least six months--you might want to think about a few of these things.

Disposable Razors and Shaving Cream:
Naturally occurring body hair is not nearly as repulsive, and therefore in need of regular removal, in other countries as it is in America. Thus, it was difficult (or near impossible) to find razors in China.  And none of them were disposable--they were the electric kind men shave their faces with and not at all cheap.   I would like to tell you that this experience made me appreciative of the ways our cultures manipulate us into buying into certain standard of beauty and I became more comfortable with body in it's more natural (and hairy) state.  This did not happen; I just wore long pants/leggings/tights and was careful not to raise my arms.  Then I had my mom ship me a razor and about three containers of replacement blades.

Brand Specific Feminine Products:
Just trust me on this.  Bring lots of whatever it is you use.

Decor:
Most often in these teach abroad positions, you are given housing--it is an apartment that someone lived in for their two year contract and someone else will live there after your two years are over.  These types of places typically come fully furnished, but do not come fully decorated; most people on a temporary assignment (though two years is a long time) do not invest in decorating.  Thus, this time around I will be bringing photos of friends, family, and landscapes, so I can cover those bare, unfamiliar walls with pictures of people and places that I love.  And there really is nothing more depressing than stark white walls in a new place all by yourself. Tons of photos do not take up much room in a carry-on and can seriously ease that first initial wave of home sickness in a new place. It also helps to make that stark new environment feel like your home.

Brand new small clothes:
I am talking largely about bras and underwear.  I do not think it will be too difficult to find these products in Bahrain, but in China, my chest size was massive (compared to the locals).  It was near impossible to find a bra in my size.  And as you can imagine, wearing the same bras for a year and a half?  Yeah, not so supportive at the end of 18 months.  Thus, this time around I will be bringing brand new never before worn bras and they will go in the back of my unmentionables drawer to be used when my current set has run it's course.
Tangentially related to this, you might want to bring extras of whatever you use a lot.  Run all the time?  Grab an extra (and new) pair of running shoes.  Whatever you have that gets a lot of wear, you should try to bring an extra of it.

Food: 
Okay, now it would be a huge waste of space to bring a lot of food from home.  And hey, the whole point of living in another country is to acquire and develop an understanding an appreciation for all facets of another culture, including food.  All of this sounds well and good for about four months until you just want a taste of home that is not fast food; you want home.  The biggest thing I missed about American food while I was in China was what was made in my parents house, not what I could get at restaurants. Thus, I will be bringing a bag of the popcorn my family uses and the spices they put on it, so when I am feeling like a little taste of home, I have that option.

You may be going through and thinking about all this extra stuff and where is it going to fit in the carry on and one checked bag you are now allowed on international flights.  Well, it's not.   I will be paying a $75 baggage fee for each of two extra bags for my trip to Bahrain; I will not be worried about not having what I need and want this time around.  The extra money is worth it, trust me.

Sweet Tooth

I won't say no one knows sugar like America, because I haven't been everywhere else, and I have heard things about Belgium that makes me think I have yet to really understand sugar.  But China does not do sugar the same way America does sugar.  Maybe sugar is the wrong word, given our use of fructose and other such syrups...let's say no one does sweet like America does sweet, including China.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, especially if we are paying attention to the rise in childhood diabetes and childhood obesity; we should probably cut out the sugar.  Especially all the super refined, not-easily-processed-by-our-bodies sugars and syrups...and  do not get me started on the artificial sweeteners. However, today  I will spare you from the rest of my rant on sugar (it's a good one though, ranging from obesity to the roots of political instability in South America).

While I was in China I had no particular problem with this lack of sugar, not having much of a sweet tooth.  However, if you are someone who really loves a good hit of sugar every once and a while (or everyday), China was like a sugarless wasteland.  Our students would frequently try to feed us, especially if they discovered that whatever they were snacking on was not something we had in the States (which was pretty much everything).  So, they would allow us to sample of their snacks, a treat that we approached with a considerable amount of trepidation every single time.

I mean, I ate some strange stuff in China; most of it was wonderful...some of it was awful in the extreme.  By agreeing to try a snack offered to us by our students we were not only taking a risk with out taste-buds (which could easily recover) but also in disappointing our students if we didn't like it--and were unable to disguise the depth of our dislike.  You also had no idea where the student obtained the food they were offering (most of it was in wrapped packages, but sometimes it looked more like what you would get a bulk foods--a clear plastic back filled with food) and so whether or not your body was going to forcibly eject that food in eight hours was always in the back of our minds.

But when it came to sweet things, our students always felt the need to warn us, "Careful, Rachel, this is very sweet."  So we'd brace ourselves for an onslaught of cotton candy-like sweetness...only to be met with something about as sweet as a Nutrigrain bar or Fig Newton.  Every time we were given this warning, we were given something that most Americans would  not consider overly sweet, and certainly not sweet enough to merit a warning.

Look at their expectant faces...and look at our fear.  MUST. NOT. DISAPPOINT! 

Thus bereft of a bountiful and varied supply of sugar (you could buy Snickers bars almost every where in China, and if you were desperate, there is a Hershey's store in Shanghai)  we began to rely on other sources of sugar for our daily dose of sweetness. 

I would say my largest source of sugar in China was through Milk Tea.  Milk tea is quite literally the greatest beverage that has ever been invented and consumed and its lack of pervasiveness into American culture is one of the most intolerable things about being home.  Now, you might be thinking, "I've had milk tea (and it's even more amazing cousin, bubble tea) here in America!"  Well, yes, we have establishments in America that sell this ambrosia, but in China (and elsewhere in Asia, I'm sure) milk tea shops are on every street.  Sometimes there are three or four on one street alone!  Milk Tea is available everywhere, and we did partake of it on a daily basis.

I don't have a single picture of me drinking milk tea! I don't know how that happened.  But here's a menu from my very favorite milk tea chain. 

My second favorite source of sugar was something called an egg tart.  I cannot remember the first time I had one of these--it may have been through my students, or it may have been through one of the other teachers (Justin was a big fan of trying out local sweets).  However, it only took one bite of them to fall in love with this particular treat; they are not overly sweet (because nothing really is), but just sweet enough to not be bland.  They consist of an egg-based custard that has been baked into a flaky, buttery pastry shell.  You can get them with filling, such as red bean or taro, or you can get them plain (my favorite); they sell for about 2 yuan a piece at vendors that are almost as commonplace as milk tea vendors.

Amanda here continues to be my camera woman, dedicated to capturing those moments I did not get on film while I was in China...and she has an excuse to eat egg tarts.  

Of course, as I was saying above with my students, China has things they consider to be sweet.  They have cakes and pastries and candies.  However, as an American used to the super sweetness of corn syrup, these "sweets" were not all together sweet.  We would try cakes whose texture was altogether more spongy than what we were used to, minimally frosted, and filled or topped (or both) with fruit...this included tomatoes.  I don't think there is anything less reminiscent in the minds of Americans of cake than tomatoes.  But there they were, sitting on top of the cake next to slices of pineapple, like they belonged there.

They also have a variety of pastries; lots of green tea or taro flavored things, or pastries stuffed with taro or red bean filling.  Many were stuffed with a simple cream--these were my favorites. But despite the cream filling, the "sweets" in China were not in the least overwhelmingly sweet, despite any dire warnings from our students.  If you wanted the sweet stuff, you had to raid the imports section in large grocery stores.

Here are some average sweets.  Lots of sesame and black sesame filled or covered things.  Along with red bean, green tea, and taro flavored/filled goodies.  And cream puffs.