I'm on the road to recovery. The experience with the doctor was great. Although, hopefully one I won't have to repeat.
A few things happened that have caused some twinges of homesickness. Easter being one, of which I spoke a little about in a previous post.
Mother’s Day was a little strange. Very anticlimactic and I realized the reason for that is the lack of commercials on most of the TV channels. There are no commercials on the children’s channels (which makes holidays MUCH nicer). Also, Sunday is a workday, so no pressure for an all day celebration. The kids made cards and we went for ice cream.
But, honestly, the thing that set me back in my homesickness was a recent “Throwdown with Bobby Flay.” He was competing with a guy in Raleigh making ribs and baked beans. I almost cried. Okay, not really. But, it struck me at how much food is part of our identities. And here’s where I’m going to get controversial. I like Eastern AND Western barbecue equally. Vinegar based, tomato based, just baste the hell out of it, and it’s good with me! They have pork sections in a couple of the groceries here, but it’s really not the same as what you can get back home. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to make some anyway.
Which led me my next thought (I realized here I think about food way too often). Everything is becoming fusion. It’s extremely difficult to find what would be labeled as Emirati cuisine. It’s all a mishmash of grilling and spices, the Mediterranean influences washing over and combining into something particularly unique to this area, but still tasting like something you’ve had before.
Think about your own cooking style. For me, I know there’s a huge southern, soul food influence. But, I also have my mother’s German influence and my Dad’s “experimental” flair (sometimes for the worst, his pumpkin orange raisin bread is a recipe that will stay buried deeply in the recesses of trial gone wrong). New Orleans is one of my favorite American cities, so I cook a lot of Cajun and the snobbier, Creole, cuisines as well. And now, I’m finding the Middle Eastern influence creeping in. And I realize, for cooks (professional and home), we’re just one big fusion of flavors. But, doesn’t it sound fancier? Fusion cuisine. As Americans, it shouldn’t be surprising. And for Abu Dhabi, with its myriad expatriate societies, I’ve yet to find one place that was strictly one ethnicity. It’s all a hodgepodge of flavors.
Try this the next time you eat. Take a minute to really taste your food (you’ll probably eat less this way, too). See if you can taste where the cultures merge.
Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity. ~Voltaire
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Illness is the most heeded of doctors: to goodness and wisdom we only make promises; pain we obey. ~Marcel Proust
Those who keep up with us on Facebook know I've struggled with illness for most of April. And, I'm stubborn. Which can be advantageous in most respects, but not so much when I hold off seeing doctors.
So, the cough was getting worse. One point, I had a fever, and I thought, “Okay, this is the flu. What’s a doctor going to tell me?” Take Tylenol, get plenty of fluids, and rest.” I’m not hauling myself to the doctor for that. And, honestly, the idea of going to see a doctor in a foreign country scared me just a little bit.
After a couple more weeks of awful sleep, aching chest, and a cough that would just not give it a rest (I’ll leave out the grotesque details), I caved.
And, luckily, I did. This follows the experience:
I enter the hospital about 8:55 AM (Wow! It’s so clean and bright in here), and speak with the receptionist in GP. She asks what’s wrong and I list the maladies, she directs me to ENT. My expression must have prompted her to add, “They open at 9, but the office is probably open.” My look had nothing to do with my lack of comprehension, but the fact that I could just walk into a specialist’s office and be seen.
I take the elevator up to the second floor and gave the receptionist another run through of the ailments, and she asked me to have a seat. I waited 15 minutes before I saw the ENT. He did the typical things and recommended an x-ray and bloodwork. He told me the x-ray would be ready immediately, so return after that, but that the bloodwork “Would not be ready for some time.” Me, “When will it be ready?” Dr., “About 1 PM today.” I almost snickered, but then I realized he was serious.
After the recommended tests were completed, I met with the doctor again and he informed me I had a serious chest infection. I was almost chided for having waited so long. He wrote several prescriptions and I trudged downstairs, dreading the wait at the pharmacy. I gave the pharmacist my 8 pages of items and waited . . . about 10 minutes before they were ready.
Including the taxi ride to and from the flat, doctor visits, x-ray, lab, and pharmacy, I was gone around 90 minutes and spent about 170 dirhams for the doctor and pharmacy (which is around $45). I wasn’t charged for the bloodwork or x-ray.
I find myself comparing the States versus the UAE. It’s only natural. Sometimes, I think we get things better. Other times, they win out. This was a win on the UAE side. I understand healthcare is a sticky situation back home, but having been through a system of subsidized healthcare, I never felt I didn’t have choices. Quite the contrary, I had more. And, when things aren’t bogged down by bureaucracy, the system overall is more efficient. I go back on Friday, so I’ll let you know if it works just as well the second time around.
He who has health has hope; and he who has hope has everything. ~Arabic Proverb
So, the cough was getting worse. One point, I had a fever, and I thought, “Okay, this is the flu. What’s a doctor going to tell me?” Take Tylenol, get plenty of fluids, and rest.” I’m not hauling myself to the doctor for that. And, honestly, the idea of going to see a doctor in a foreign country scared me just a little bit.
After a couple more weeks of awful sleep, aching chest, and a cough that would just not give it a rest (I’ll leave out the grotesque details), I caved.
And, luckily, I did. This follows the experience:
I enter the hospital about 8:55 AM (Wow! It’s so clean and bright in here), and speak with the receptionist in GP. She asks what’s wrong and I list the maladies, she directs me to ENT. My expression must have prompted her to add, “They open at 9, but the office is probably open.” My look had nothing to do with my lack of comprehension, but the fact that I could just walk into a specialist’s office and be seen.
I take the elevator up to the second floor and gave the receptionist another run through of the ailments, and she asked me to have a seat. I waited 15 minutes before I saw the ENT. He did the typical things and recommended an x-ray and bloodwork. He told me the x-ray would be ready immediately, so return after that, but that the bloodwork “Would not be ready for some time.” Me, “When will it be ready?” Dr., “About 1 PM today.” I almost snickered, but then I realized he was serious.
After the recommended tests were completed, I met with the doctor again and he informed me I had a serious chest infection. I was almost chided for having waited so long. He wrote several prescriptions and I trudged downstairs, dreading the wait at the pharmacy. I gave the pharmacist my 8 pages of items and waited . . . about 10 minutes before they were ready.
Including the taxi ride to and from the flat, doctor visits, x-ray, lab, and pharmacy, I was gone around 90 minutes and spent about 170 dirhams for the doctor and pharmacy (which is around $45). I wasn’t charged for the bloodwork or x-ray.
I find myself comparing the States versus the UAE. It’s only natural. Sometimes, I think we get things better. Other times, they win out. This was a win on the UAE side. I understand healthcare is a sticky situation back home, but having been through a system of subsidized healthcare, I never felt I didn’t have choices. Quite the contrary, I had more. And, when things aren’t bogged down by bureaucracy, the system overall is more efficient. I go back on Friday, so I’ll let you know if it works just as well the second time around.
He who has health has hope; and he who has hope has everything. ~Arabic Proverb
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Somehow our devils are never quite what we expect when we meet them face to face. ~Nelson DeMille
Firstly, Happy Easter to all my Christian friends. And to all the others, you're probably going to Hell anyway, so what's the point? Obviously, this last statement was a joke. And if it aggravated/offended you a bit, think about why. Is it because you feel like you're being judged? Then, think about how many times we do this on a daily basis. I'm as guilty as everyone else. There's nothing like living in a different country with an entirely different culture to help wash that ethnocentricity “right out of your hair.”
I grew up in an extremely conservative southern town. Some of you are familiar with this town and while, in retrospect, I place value on some of the qualities it instilled, it did not allow for divergent theories. For instance, I was told in Sunday School one morning,”All Catholics are going to Hell.” This was quite a revelation as my father was baptized into the Catholic faith and this revelation was enough to send me to my knobby, six-year old knees on a nightly basis to pray for his salvation. Later, I converted to Catholicism, which is a perplexing sort of irony. Or, maybe not so much. . .
After 9/11, there was a uniform American pride that swelled through the country. The overwhelming majority seemed to say, “If you were American, then you were cool with me.” This was irrespective of your religion, race, creed, etc. This patriotism has dissipated over the years and there has become a thinly veiled prejudice against our Muslim brothers and sisters. Living in a southern town, with a small Muslim population, I saw people cross the street to avoid walking past a mosque, I’ve heard people mutter under their breath, and in general, exhibit great rudeness to women who wore hijab.
And, I have had several debates with people regarding the tolerance of people who are Muslim. The general stance is that “Christianity preaches love, while Islam preaches hate.” So, I knew this would be an interesting experiment that I would be allowed to live in Abu Dhabi.
So, on one of the “biggest” days in Christianity, I was curious to see how I as a minority would be treated. And, I have to say, not different. Not at all. In fact, I was told by more people who are Muslim, “Happy Easter,” than I was ever told in the States. Our neighbor even baked us a cake. Followed by “Happy Easter,” we were told, “As-Salaam-Aleichem.” Which means basically, “Peace be upon you.” Huh, this is the same greeting we use at every Catholic Mass when we tell our fellow parishioners, “Peace be with you.” And, although it’s not confirmed in the Arab world, the Jewish greeting is incredibly similar with “Shalom Aleichem.” The more I think about how different I was taught we were growing up, the more I realize in my adult life how very similar we are.
And here’s what else I’ve found: Mother Teresa was right, “If you judge people, you have no time to love them. And so was Gandhi, “A man is but the product of his thoughts what he thinks, he becomes.” And so was the Dalai Lama, “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” And finally, the Prophet Mohammed was right, too, “Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith.”
So, all these people from vastly different backgrounds are all stating basically the same idea. Be decent, be good, be kind. I’ve always been a believer you get out of the universe what you put in.
So, do your part. Be kind, hold a door, give a smile. Look your neighbor in the eye, even when they don’t look like you. To close, Albert Einstein said it best (leave it to a scientist), “Small is the number of people who see with their eyes and think with their minds.”
I grew up in an extremely conservative southern town. Some of you are familiar with this town and while, in retrospect, I place value on some of the qualities it instilled, it did not allow for divergent theories. For instance, I was told in Sunday School one morning,”All Catholics are going to Hell.” This was quite a revelation as my father was baptized into the Catholic faith and this revelation was enough to send me to my knobby, six-year old knees on a nightly basis to pray for his salvation. Later, I converted to Catholicism, which is a perplexing sort of irony. Or, maybe not so much. . .
After 9/11, there was a uniform American pride that swelled through the country. The overwhelming majority seemed to say, “If you were American, then you were cool with me.” This was irrespective of your religion, race, creed, etc. This patriotism has dissipated over the years and there has become a thinly veiled prejudice against our Muslim brothers and sisters. Living in a southern town, with a small Muslim population, I saw people cross the street to avoid walking past a mosque, I’ve heard people mutter under their breath, and in general, exhibit great rudeness to women who wore hijab.
And, I have had several debates with people regarding the tolerance of people who are Muslim. The general stance is that “Christianity preaches love, while Islam preaches hate.” So, I knew this would be an interesting experiment that I would be allowed to live in Abu Dhabi.
So, on one of the “biggest” days in Christianity, I was curious to see how I as a minority would be treated. And, I have to say, not different. Not at all. In fact, I was told by more people who are Muslim, “Happy Easter,” than I was ever told in the States. Our neighbor even baked us a cake. Followed by “Happy Easter,” we were told, “As-Salaam-Aleichem.” Which means basically, “Peace be upon you.” Huh, this is the same greeting we use at every Catholic Mass when we tell our fellow parishioners, “Peace be with you.” And, although it’s not confirmed in the Arab world, the Jewish greeting is incredibly similar with “Shalom Aleichem.” The more I think about how different I was taught we were growing up, the more I realize in my adult life how very similar we are.
And here’s what else I’ve found: Mother Teresa was right, “If you judge people, you have no time to love them. And so was Gandhi, “A man is but the product of his thoughts what he thinks, he becomes.” And so was the Dalai Lama, “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” And finally, the Prophet Mohammed was right, too, “Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith.”
So, all these people from vastly different backgrounds are all stating basically the same idea. Be decent, be good, be kind. I’ve always been a believer you get out of the universe what you put in.
So, do your part. Be kind, hold a door, give a smile. Look your neighbor in the eye, even when they don’t look like you. To close, Albert Einstein said it best (leave it to a scientist), “Small is the number of people who see with their eyes and think with their minds.”
Saturday, April 16, 2011
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
Well, you knew it was coming, didn't you? All these blogs and so many nice things, I was bound to snap eventually. A friend said she admired the fact that she hadn't read one word of complaint since we'd been here. Get ready, here it comes. . .
I have never been disappointed moving to Abu Dhabi. It's an excellent opportunity for our family. However, the only time I've had regret has been over Thomas' schooling. He has really struggled getting settled in his new school. Had I realized this would have been such an enormous emotional undertaking, I would have waited until the summer to move. It kills me to hear him say, “I don’t have any friends and everyone hates me.” My poor, sweet boy. He is just so sweet and tenderhearted.
Additionally, we had planned on moving the children to a school much closer to us. Due to some paperwork delays, the positions were filled by the time we arrived in January. Finally, after several inquiries, we were able to get the boys in the same school. There was some concern with Thomas’ attention and he was accepted into the school on probation. He has since proved he is able to do the work and is scheduled to enter second grade for the 2011-2012 school year.
However, after his assessment to the “new” school (Lucas and Helen have already been accepted for next year), his application was declined. They were concerned that he was unable to do the work without one-on-one assistance to help with his focus. This would not have been so unsettling had we not previously met with the administration to discuss his attention and the options available if it became an issue. I was told they were able to suggest testing centers were it required. After all this discussion prior to his assessment, we were simply told, “No.”
I was sent into a spiral of panic. I’ve not had a panic attack in years, but I came close to it last week. After much time to reflect and discuss the matter with a friend, I realized we have the option to appeal. I have reviewed the curriculum for first and second grade, and developmentally he can do the work. Every teacher has told me that while he has some focus issues, he is not a disruption to the class and is a very enjoyable pupil.
I am torn between appealing the school and homeschooling. Having been a special educator, I find it hypocritical to say, “Fairness is not everyone gets equal treatment, fairness is that a student gets what they need in order to be successful learners.” If I am not able to then offer that for my child would be hypocritical.
So, that’s where I am now, folks. Good, bad, and everything in between. I’ll keep you posted. . .
"Do not ask that your kids live up to your expectations. Let your kids be who they are, and your expectations will be in breathless pursuit." ~Robert Brault
I have never been disappointed moving to Abu Dhabi. It's an excellent opportunity for our family. However, the only time I've had regret has been over Thomas' schooling. He has really struggled getting settled in his new school. Had I realized this would have been such an enormous emotional undertaking, I would have waited until the summer to move. It kills me to hear him say, “I don’t have any friends and everyone hates me.” My poor, sweet boy. He is just so sweet and tenderhearted.
Additionally, we had planned on moving the children to a school much closer to us. Due to some paperwork delays, the positions were filled by the time we arrived in January. Finally, after several inquiries, we were able to get the boys in the same school. There was some concern with Thomas’ attention and he was accepted into the school on probation. He has since proved he is able to do the work and is scheduled to enter second grade for the 2011-2012 school year.
However, after his assessment to the “new” school (Lucas and Helen have already been accepted for next year), his application was declined. They were concerned that he was unable to do the work without one-on-one assistance to help with his focus. This would not have been so unsettling had we not previously met with the administration to discuss his attention and the options available if it became an issue. I was told they were able to suggest testing centers were it required. After all this discussion prior to his assessment, we were simply told, “No.”
I was sent into a spiral of panic. I’ve not had a panic attack in years, but I came close to it last week. After much time to reflect and discuss the matter with a friend, I realized we have the option to appeal. I have reviewed the curriculum for first and second grade, and developmentally he can do the work. Every teacher has told me that while he has some focus issues, he is not a disruption to the class and is a very enjoyable pupil.
I am torn between appealing the school and homeschooling. Having been a special educator, I find it hypocritical to say, “Fairness is not everyone gets equal treatment, fairness is that a student gets what they need in order to be successful learners.” If I am not able to then offer that for my child would be hypocritical.
So, that’s where I am now, folks. Good, bad, and everything in between. I’ll keep you posted. . .
"Do not ask that your kids live up to your expectations. Let your kids be who they are, and your expectations will be in breathless pursuit." ~Robert Brault
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
A Taxi Ride to Remember
Well, it's been two weeks since my last post. I'm not sure how time passes so quickly. Although, if I think about it--I'm sure I have at least 4 good reasons.
Those who have traveled overseas (or in any large city), experience a different aspect of life when in a taxi.
A friend writes a weekly blog on personal responsibility and happiness (here’s a shameless plug to Ministry of Happiness’ Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ministry-of-Happiness/155023134520961?ref=ts). This week, I was confronted with said responsibility and happiness in your job. As usual, I grocery shop between 1-2 times a week. And since taxis are so inexpensive (and we don’t have a car), it is our preferred mode of transportation for longer trips. I flagged down a taxi and was met by a jovial taxi driver who saluted when I opened the door (yes, he actually saluted). After closing the door, he proceeded to turn up the music (smiling, with wagging eyebrows), and sing to me. I have no idea what the lyrics were in English, only that the cabbie was enjoying himself. As a result, so was I. I’m sure being a taxi driver can be a thankless job. You get 25% of the fare, and whatever you’re given in tips. As with most public service jobs, there are those who choose to go about their days with sullen attitudes and those who make the best of difficult situations and just turn up the music and belt one out "American Idol" style. So, to the guy who drove me to the Khalidyah Mall on Tuesday, thanks for putting me in a better mood than when I got into your cab!
Those who have traveled overseas (or in any large city), experience a different aspect of life when in a taxi.
A friend writes a weekly blog on personal responsibility and happiness (here’s a shameless plug to Ministry of Happiness’ Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ministry-of-Happiness/155023134520961?ref=ts). This week, I was confronted with said responsibility and happiness in your job. As usual, I grocery shop between 1-2 times a week. And since taxis are so inexpensive (and we don’t have a car), it is our preferred mode of transportation for longer trips. I flagged down a taxi and was met by a jovial taxi driver who saluted when I opened the door (yes, he actually saluted). After closing the door, he proceeded to turn up the music (smiling, with wagging eyebrows), and sing to me. I have no idea what the lyrics were in English, only that the cabbie was enjoying himself. As a result, so was I. I’m sure being a taxi driver can be a thankless job. You get 25% of the fare, and whatever you’re given in tips. As with most public service jobs, there are those who choose to go about their days with sullen attitudes and those who make the best of difficult situations and just turn up the music and belt one out "American Idol" style. So, to the guy who drove me to the Khalidyah Mall on Tuesday, thanks for putting me in a better mood than when I got into your cab!
Friday, March 25, 2011
He who distinguishes the true savor of his food can never be a glutton; he who does not cannot be otherwise. ~Henry David Thoreau
Wow, where does the time go? It’s already been a week and a half since the last posting.
As promised, I will devote an entire posting (although, more would be required to adequately cover this subject) to food. And, there's a lot of it here. With a country comprised almost entirely of expats, there's bound to be a variety. There’s an amazing selection of restaurants, although our favorite is Marroush. And while it’s convenient at a half block away, it’s also incredibly good. The shawarma is ready everyday at 6:30. We eat there maybe once a week. And for those who have expressed concern that Sam isn’t eating. No worries, we’ve found a pizza restaurant, and we eat there once a week as well (to prevent nutritional shock).
The produce section at the grocery store has been an education. Even for me, whom I consider to be a well-versed cook. I purchase a Middle Eastern cookbook this past weekend, and made the baki mussaka (eggplant with spaghetti). It turned out well, and since I made a little portion for Sam with only jarred spaghetti sauce, he did manage to keep from retching. As far as home cooking is concerned, that’s where the fun begins (at least for me). There are stores ranging from the hyper markets to “convenience” stores that would fit in most people’s living rooms. On Facebook, I’ve tried to update with photos with my latest “experiments.” I’ve made kofta with rice, kheer, and the aforementioned eggplant. Which, I couldn’t get the children to eat, unless I called it “aubergines.” Everything sounds fancier in French, I suppose. Not to worry, though, I’ve stayed true to my southern roots, and have made macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, and biscuits (much to the amazement of Belatu). I somehow got the impression her previous employer did not cook. And, you won’t believe it y’all! I even found buttermilk!
But back to the produce section. I cannot begin to describe how amazing it is. I never knew there were so many types of mangoes (they are just as passionate about their mangoes as we are about apples). And, I can find vegetables I’ve only seen in exotic cookbooks (although, interestingly enough, molasses is in the “ethnic food” section). We’ve had produce from across the globe (primarily Asia and Africa), and while I’ve tried to keep it local (our favorite has still been dragon fruit) —I realize that it’s really no different than purchasing strawberries from California in December when I lived in North Carolina. But, there are amazing farmers’ markets and we’re already becoming familiar faces. The kids are great at scoring free pitas right off the line.
Since I shop at least three times a week, the quality is much fresher. We are eating vegetarian meals at least twice a week. Since few preservatives are used, as well as less salt and sugar, the flavors are much clearer in the meals. Therefore, we eat less as well.
Combined with walking more, we’re becoming healthier overall. So, come visit and let us take you on a culinary adventure!
Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all. ~Harriet van Horne
As promised, I will devote an entire posting (although, more would be required to adequately cover this subject) to food. And, there's a lot of it here. With a country comprised almost entirely of expats, there's bound to be a variety. There’s an amazing selection of restaurants, although our favorite is Marroush. And while it’s convenient at a half block away, it’s also incredibly good. The shawarma is ready everyday at 6:30. We eat there maybe once a week. And for those who have expressed concern that Sam isn’t eating. No worries, we’ve found a pizza restaurant, and we eat there once a week as well (to prevent nutritional shock).
The produce section at the grocery store has been an education. Even for me, whom I consider to be a well-versed cook. I purchase a Middle Eastern cookbook this past weekend, and made the baki mussaka (eggplant with spaghetti). It turned out well, and since I made a little portion for Sam with only jarred spaghetti sauce, he did manage to keep from retching. As far as home cooking is concerned, that’s where the fun begins (at least for me). There are stores ranging from the hyper markets to “convenience” stores that would fit in most people’s living rooms. On Facebook, I’ve tried to update with photos with my latest “experiments.” I’ve made kofta with rice, kheer, and the aforementioned eggplant. Which, I couldn’t get the children to eat, unless I called it “aubergines.” Everything sounds fancier in French, I suppose. Not to worry, though, I’ve stayed true to my southern roots, and have made macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, and biscuits (much to the amazement of Belatu). I somehow got the impression her previous employer did not cook. And, you won’t believe it y’all! I even found buttermilk!
But back to the produce section. I cannot begin to describe how amazing it is. I never knew there were so many types of mangoes (they are just as passionate about their mangoes as we are about apples). And, I can find vegetables I’ve only seen in exotic cookbooks (although, interestingly enough, molasses is in the “ethnic food” section). We’ve had produce from across the globe (primarily Asia and Africa), and while I’ve tried to keep it local (our favorite has still been dragon fruit) —I realize that it’s really no different than purchasing strawberries from California in December when I lived in North Carolina. But, there are amazing farmers’ markets and we’re already becoming familiar faces. The kids are great at scoring free pitas right off the line.
Since I shop at least three times a week, the quality is much fresher. We are eating vegetarian meals at least twice a week. Since few preservatives are used, as well as less salt and sugar, the flavors are much clearer in the meals. Therefore, we eat less as well.
Combined with walking more, we’re becoming healthier overall. So, come visit and let us take you on a culinary adventure!
Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all. ~Harriet van Horne
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
"We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival." ~Winston Churchill
There are a few topics I want to cover, so I’ll give you a preview for the next few blogs:
1. Food (yes, Sam is eating)
2. Enterprise
3. Observations of a Foreigner
For now, my thoughts revolve around Japan. My heart breaks for the people and their country. I am continually inspired by the footage of the indomitable human spirit, the triumph of caring for others over horrific tragedy, and moved to tears as loved ones are reunited. One particular story I will remember, a group of high schoolers in a shelter with their remaining community made banners for the gymnasium saying, “Do your best.” These students had lost everything, some were unable to locate their families, but they felt it was their duty to lift up the spirits of those around them. This is truly taking something good out of a horrendous situation. I am inspired by their bravery, selflessness, and compassion.
As we continue our new lives in the UAE, I am reminded again at how lucky I am to have my family with me.
Typically, I insert a quote that summarizes the post, this time is no different.
“That was rough.... Thing to do now is try and forget it.... I guess I don't quite mean that. It's not a thing you can forget. Maybe not even a thing you want to forget.... Life's like that sometimes... Now and then for no good reason a man can figure out, life will just haul off and knock him flat, slam him agin' the ground so hard it seems like all his insides is busted. But it's not all like that. A lot of it's mighty fine, and you can't afford to waste the good part frettin' about the bad. That makes it all bad.... Sure, I know - sayin' it's one thing and feelin' it's another. But I'll tell you a trick that's sometimes a big help. When you start lookin' around for something good to take the place of the bad, as a general rule you can find it.” ~From the movie Old Yeller
1. Food (yes, Sam is eating)
2. Enterprise
3. Observations of a Foreigner
For now, my thoughts revolve around Japan. My heart breaks for the people and their country. I am continually inspired by the footage of the indomitable human spirit, the triumph of caring for others over horrific tragedy, and moved to tears as loved ones are reunited. One particular story I will remember, a group of high schoolers in a shelter with their remaining community made banners for the gymnasium saying, “Do your best.” These students had lost everything, some were unable to locate their families, but they felt it was their duty to lift up the spirits of those around them. This is truly taking something good out of a horrendous situation. I am inspired by their bravery, selflessness, and compassion.
As we continue our new lives in the UAE, I am reminded again at how lucky I am to have my family with me.
Typically, I insert a quote that summarizes the post, this time is no different.
“That was rough.... Thing to do now is try and forget it.... I guess I don't quite mean that. It's not a thing you can forget. Maybe not even a thing you want to forget.... Life's like that sometimes... Now and then for no good reason a man can figure out, life will just haul off and knock him flat, slam him agin' the ground so hard it seems like all his insides is busted. But it's not all like that. A lot of it's mighty fine, and you can't afford to waste the good part frettin' about the bad. That makes it all bad.... Sure, I know - sayin' it's one thing and feelin' it's another. But I'll tell you a trick that's sometimes a big help. When you start lookin' around for something good to take the place of the bad, as a general rule you can find it.” ~From the movie Old Yeller
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