I step out of the kitchen, into the caged terrace, and have a smoke. I make a cup of tea, it is 110 degrees in the sun and it is Sunday. I have been here for nine days and on the third day I was asked to be a coordinator. Eight months ago when I interviewed for this post I imagined taking a leadership role. Here it is. Today I ran around looking for the 'copy center' to make 1290 copies for the eight teachers in my level. I found the young Bangladeshi man looking at the toner like a man who pulls out a screen of bees. He told me to come back tomorrow.
The newest supermarket opened a few months ago. I paid a taxi 700 baisa to get out there, three miles out of town, on the road to Sohar, in the middle of nowhere. The store was pleasantly empty and I made quick work of every aisle. When I finished I went to KFC for a so-so fillet burger. It's hard to believe a Dominos is the other and only fast food chain in this town. I shall visit it later in the future.
When I walk north I am confronted with the surreal lights of Jabel Hafeet. I am on the other side of the fence, why is it so familiar and so far away? I walked forty minutes looking for a tailor to take up the new khakis I bought. If I had taken a different route I might have found a closer shop. This one is past the souq, amidst hundreds of ladies only tailors. Glitzy, flashy, staffed by eunuchs, ok I don't know it that's true, but it's possible.
The coordinator will require more time and paper shuffling and I am up for it but when the email isn't working, when the overhead projector isn't working, when one teacher is still waiting for students while seven of the stuff have over 30, well that doesn't make much sense. But who's here to make sense of it all, accept each day as it comes, ignore the vipers who throw rumors around like the fat of a turkey. Our honesty will prevail, God willing. For what else do we have except our dignity in the end?
The newest supermarket opened a few months ago. I paid a taxi 700 baisa to get out there, three miles out of town, on the road to Sohar, in the middle of nowhere. The store was pleasantly empty and I made quick work of every aisle. When I finished I went to KFC for a so-so fillet burger. It's hard to believe a Dominos is the other and only fast food chain in this town. I shall visit it later in the future.
When I walk north I am confronted with the surreal lights of Jabel Hafeet. I am on the other side of the fence, why is it so familiar and so far away? I walked forty minutes looking for a tailor to take up the new khakis I bought. If I had taken a different route I might have found a closer shop. This one is past the souq, amidst hundreds of ladies only tailors. Glitzy, flashy, staffed by eunuchs, ok I don't know it that's true, but it's possible.
The coordinator will require more time and paper shuffling and I am up for it but when the email isn't working, when the overhead projector isn't working, when one teacher is still waiting for students while seven of the stuff have over 30, well that doesn't make much sense. But who's here to make sense of it all, accept each day as it comes, ignore the vipers who throw rumors around like the fat of a turkey. Our honesty will prevail, God willing. For what else do we have except our dignity in the end?
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