The Final Farewell

My time in Saudi is over. I left three weeks ago and it seems like the last 18 months were a blurry, wild dream. Part of me is thrilled that I "survived", another part of me is sad and misses the people I left behind. I simply can't believe it's actually over.

The last two weeks in KSA were interesting. The first week I was diagnosed with pneumonia (not fun). This meant that during that week I didn't actually go to work for a full work day, and was unable to spend time with the people I would soon be leaving. Let me tell you, pneumonia is not fun. It's exhausting and suffocating (quite literally). For those of you who thought that it was an old people disease (and I count myself among these people), I can unequivocally state that this is untrue. What's more, I had no idea that it can evolve from a common cold so easily! Fortunately for me I have friends who forced me to go to the clinic to get tested (I am not a fan of the KAUST clinic, for reasons that should be quite obvious if you have read this blog). I was happily surprised that this time I actually saw a doctor who really knew what he was doing and was able to diagnose me quickly and prescribe the right medication the first time. Within two days of taking the anti-biotics, I could actually breathe. What a feeling.

The following week was a bit surreal. There was no one in my office because everyone was out for a conference. I spent the week getting signatures (leaving KAUST was almost as complicated as arriving to KAUST, and that is saying something). So many offices to visit, and signatures to get so that someone, somewhere would know to cancel my ID, email and login on the date of my departure.

My final weekend was filled with goodbyes. My friends had a farewell dinner for me with a camel cake. It was something else. I can't thank them enough. I also completed my Advanced PADI certification and went to the KAUST beach (for the last time :)).

When the day of my departure finally arrived it still didn't feel real. I had packed my house (with the help of the movers) and my luggage (with the help of my friends). All of my plates and pots (and even the iron) had been pillaged by another friend who had just moved to new place and needed "stuff". I looked around the apartment that had been my "home" for over a year, and knew that I no longer belonged there (not to say that I ever really did). My friends came over to help me wait for my taxi. We sat around the table, drank "juice" and laughed about the many misadventures we had all shared together. These are incredible people and I owe them my sanity. I know I would have made it in Saudi or at KAUST without them and I will never have the words to adequately thank them.

Finally at midnight, my taxi arrived. Everyone grabbed a bag (I have a lot of stuff) and we all headed downstairs. There were tears and smiles, but in the end I know my friends were both happy and sad to see me go. There were happy that I was "escaping" but sad in knowing that I would not be back to visit, I can't. As the car pulled away from the parking lot and we drove down the main drive to the gate, I was reminded of my first impressions of KAUST. The awe I felt. The nerves. But this time, I was not nervous or anxious. I was saying goodbye to a place I will never see again but that has changed me for good.

My final farewell to Saudi was 15 hours later, when my Saudi Air flight landed in JFK. As always happens on these flights, the abayas had come off and the head scarves had changed colors. I had also taken off my abaya. In fact, I left it on the plane. I didn't need it anymore.

This marks the end of "Salsa in Saudi." I will however be starting a new blog as soon as I arrive in Shanghai. The name is "Merengue in Mandarin" and the address is www.merengueinmandarin.blogspot.com New adventure, new stories to tell. Should be fun :)

Mi Locura

Creo que por fin entendí que para ser feliz en la vida es necesario vivir sin remordimiento. Si bien hay cosas que pasan que en el momento se piensa que hubiera sido mejor que no pasaran, pero sin esas “equivocaciones” no estaría donde estoy hoy. Y aunque me parece que en este año he pasado por mas momentos no tan buenos, me doy cuenta que gran parte de eso tiene que ver con donde estoy y la persona me que me convertido estando aquí.

Ha llegado la hora (por fin!) de decir adiós la persona malhumorada y cínica que me he vuelto. Yo se que no puedo echarle la culpa a nadie por mis acciones y que lo que me ha pasado lo cause yo y nadie más. También entiendo que hay decisiones que tomé porque no tenía otra opción. Entre una decisión mala y otra traté de tomar la menos mala, pero aunque no necesariamente fue culpa mía, sigue siendo mala decisión. Me deje llevar por sentimientos inútiles de tristeza y soledad. Me convencí que este momento iba a ser más largo de lo que fue, y que por alguna razón yo tenía que llenar ese momento cosas que a la hora de la verdad no importan. He aprendido muchísimo en este año y medio pero tristemente me parece que aunque soy un persona mucho más fuerte de lo que era, también soy una persona menos paciente.

Ahora que estoy diciendo adiós, tengo que reconocer que aunque no me arrepiento de lo que hice si lo tuviera que repetir no hubiera hecho lo mismo. No sé bien que o como cambiaría lo que hice pero me gustaría pensar que de tener la oportunidad hubiera tomar otras decisiones. Me hubiera dado cuenta que esto fue solo un abrir y cerrar de ojos y que yo tenía que pasar por algo así para saber bien que es lo que quiero, o mejor lo que no quiero. Espero que salir de aquí me permita volver a lo que era (pero no del todo). Quiero poder tomar de lo que aprendí y aplicárselo a la persona que era (y espero seguir siendo) cuando no estoy aquí. El año que viene traerá otros muchos momentos y decisiones difíciles y espero que esta locura haya sido temporal y que de ahora en adelante pueda ver mejor que los momentos son nuestros y que solo nosotros decidimos que hacer con ellos y como nos van a afectar.

Family

They say we can't choose our family and I believe this is only partly true. While we cannot choose the parents we are born to or the siblings we do or do not have, we do choose our extended family of friends. The definition of family is not as straightforward as many would have us believe. Family is more than blood, it is shared experiences, feelings and emotions that lead you to become who you ultimately are.

As I quickly wrap-up what has been a whirlwind experience in Saudi (I only have 10 days left!) I think back on the family I have here. Like all families, ours has grown, suffered loss, laughed, cried and ultimately supported each other through thick and thin. My KAUST family of friends has been an unending support group as we all try to waddle our way through our Saudi experience. We have all struggled at times, but were comforted in the knowledge that we were not alone. There are people that care, that look out for us and who will ensure our survival.

It is kind of funny to think of survival in a place like this, but I don't think the use of this particular word is an exaggeration. I was reading a study this week about happiness. It said (not surprisingly) that in order to be happy we should do things and spend time with people that make us happy. It went on to say that this is true in both our personal and professional lives. Our happiness plays a huge role in our overall health and well-being, in essence, it plays a major role in our survival. Which brings me back to my original point, if we are unable to be happy at work (which sadly is the case for many people here) then that is going to influence our ability to be happy overall. This is especially true when you live where you work and simply cannot disconnect yourself from that life. It is during these times that having a family helps most. They are the ones that remind you of all the other things you have to look forward to and be happy about. Surrounding yourself with people you want to spend time with makes even the most difficult times a little bit easier.

In previous posts I have discussed how there are friends who are only meant to be in your life for a specific amount of time. They are the ones who are going to help you through a specific situation or moment in time and will then go on their way. These "passing" friends, however, can still be considered part of your extended family. Just like the uncle you never see, they have still had an influence on you and cared enough (even if it was for a short while) to make a difference, to make you smile when all you wanted to do was cry, to hold your hand when you were scared and to help you through that moment (however long or short it may have been). Sadly, some of those friendships have bitter ends, and we choose to focus on the end rather than what made that friendship special to begin with. As I prepare to say goodbye to another round of friends, to my family, I also want to thank those people who were my friends at one point and are no longer. I choose to remember what made you special to me and not why (or how) it ended.

To my family, words cannot adequately express how much I want to thank each and everyone of you. While you may not all be friends with each other, every one of you has had a profound effect on me. As happens with all families, I know this goodbye is not forever. You are now a part of me and as a result your advice and encouragement will be with me always. Making friends has never been my strong suit, so the idea that I was lucky enough to have such an amazing group of people like you in my life is simply mind boggling. Goodbyes are never easy, so instead I will say "until we meet again," which I hope is very, very soon.

Closure

When saying goodbye, the hardest part is actually letting go. It's the finality of things that scares us (or me). I have trouble with closure. To me, there is always that horrible "what if?" What if I had decided to stay? What if I had said (or not said) something? What if things were working out differently than they actually are? The truth, however, is that most of these questions are selfish and all they focus on is how I feel, not how I make others feel.

I recently had some sense knocked into me by a very dear friend. He said that in order to find what you are looking for, you need to know what that is and be confident enough in yourself to put yourself out there. He asked me "Do you ever feel like you are running from something?" Always, I responded. "What?" I have no idea. And then it hit me, maybe it's not that I'm running from something, but rather running toward something.

"You need to find what you are passionate about and once you do build on what you lack confidence in. When you are confident, everything else will fall into place." Interesting concept. I think that in many ways I have been self-sabotaging myself. I close myself off to people and to situations because of my transient life style. I am afraid of letting people in, of getting hurt, of "taking the plunge." However, the last couple of days have taught me a valuable lesson. I don't want to be the short term plan for anyone, not even for myself. I have to start thinking long term, I need to start focusing on what really makes me happy and surrounding myself with people who can help me get there. My friend would argue that is best done in a country where I speak the language. I say, languages can be learned.

Living in Saudi has been a whirlwind experience. It has been filled with moments and memories that have changed me forever. I have had to be stronger than ever before and now know that I am capable of a lot more than I ever gave myself credit for. I am still the same shy person I've always been, but being here has taught me that being shy should not be used as an excuse for not living.

If closure is about being at peace with goodbye, then I say it's time to close this chapter of my life. I will no longer be the person who puts herself in the corner out of fear. Yes, that means I can get hurt (again) but that also means that I am more likely to experience more, to live more, to love more. The time has come to embrace who I am, what I want and fight to get there. Life is not easy, and I seem to keep putting myself in situations that only make it harder. But as I look back on my time, I don't regret it and I don't think I would change it for anything. Things here haven't always made sense. I have been frustrated, upset, depressed, and angry, but I've learned to cope with all of these emotions and have come out alive and well on the other side.

I am truly sorry that there are people that I hurt along the way. I know I am not an easy person to deal with. I have spent far too long focused on why I was unhappy, and not enough time really thinking about how to change that. I have brought people down with me, and that is a burden I will have to carry with me. I do sincerely believe and now understand that in the end, we are all looking for our own way of coping, of dealing with life and looking for that moment, experience, or person that gives us a reason to smile. We are all selfish in our way, we don't owe anyone anything and that is ok. We can only help people be happy if we are happy ourselves.

If there is anyone left who actually reads this, I wish you happiness. I hope you are living your life to the max and that you embrace every decision you make with the complete confidence that for better or worse, this is what you need to do for you. Life has a funny way of working out and for me, I needed to come to Saudi and lose myself in order to find myself. So I guess that is my closure. I now know that while my life does not resemble what I thought it would be, it has made me who I am and the time has come to fully accept and embrace who that is.

Big Changes

There comes a point in every story where things change. People surprise you. Situations work out differently that what you originally thought. Life moves faster than you expected. You put yourself out there and end up standing alone, wide-eyed and bewildered at what just happened. Somethings work, others don't. You laugh, you cry, you move on, you can't let go. Every change brings the promise of something new and means the end of something else.

Those that know me best can attest that I am not a patient person. Change is something I have great difficulty with, which is ironic considering that my life seems to be in a perpetual state of flux. While I know how to adapt, I'm just not a big fan of having to do so. Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a kid. At least then I could blame my parents for the moves and the changes, but now, I only have myself to blame. I am the one who makes the decisions to move, to say goodbye, uproot my life over and over again in the hopes of... I don't know.

Everyone can pinpoint moments in their lives where something changed and it altered the course of what they thought was going to happen next. We like to believe that things happen to us because it's easier not to take responsibility. The truth, however, is that every change in our lives happens because we put ourselves in situations that allow for that change to occur. While no one can foretell what comes next, we do like to plan and dream and attempt to prepare. But for all our preparation, there come that moment, or person that throws a wrench in our carefully laid out plans and soon you are on a path you never envisioned for yourself.

I have been doing a lot of thinking about the big changes that are taking place in my life and how those changes not only affect me but those around me. I know that my actions have hurt people, I know that I can seem insensitive and selfish and I am truly sorry about that. I wish I knew how to sit still, how to set up shop and put down roots, but it seems that no matter where I go, I keep looking for what comes next. Maybe I haven't found what I'm looking, or maybe I'm looking for something that doesn't exist. Either way, maybe the next big change will get me to where I need go.

Another Goodbye

Growing up as an ex-pat kid I learned that good-byes are never easy. I spent my entire life being very careful about who I got close to because I knew that it would not last. Like all things in my life, all of my friendships had a expiration date. Sooner or later my dad was going to come in the living room and tell the family we were moving, again.

Ex-pat life taught me a great deal of things. I know how to adapt (fairly quickly) to most situations. I know how to keep my head down when I need to and speak up when necessary. I know that sometimes people just don't know what they are talking about so it's your responsibility to be the best version of yourself you can be. This way, the next time they talk they will have a position experience to base it off of. I know that gesture can mean a million different things and that sometimes those gestures can be incredibly hurtful. Unfortunately, I also know to keep my distance to avoid getting hurt and to be hard, particularly on myself.

As I prepare to leave Saudi and embark on yet another ex-pat experience (I'm moving to Shanghai, China) I look back on the many good-byes I've had to say along the way and dread the good-byes that are yet forthcoming. I am reminded that good-byes hurt everyone and we all have our own way of dealing with that pain. Saying that you will live in the moment and not focus on the impending end, is easier said than done. Those of us who have never had a permanent home and know that life is uncertain, seem to live our lives waiting for that other shoe to drop. We know that nothing lasts and as a result close ourselves off before we even get a chance to truly experience anything. We worry about letting people in close because eventually we will hurt them (by leaving) and end up hurting ourselves in the process.

Even with all of this, I know that there are people you may say good-bye to but they stay with you forever. These people are rare to find but when you do, you know that you will carry a piece of them anywhere and everywhere you go next. You realize that good-bye really becomes more of a "until we meet again." I wish I could say that all of my friends fall in this category, but the sad truth is that some will linger a bit longer than others, but will eventually fade away. There are only very few people who really do stay with you for the rest of your life.

My life at KAUST has not been an easy one but that does not mean that saying good-bye is going to be any easier. I do believe that there are people here who belong to that special group of people that have changed me for the better, to whom I will be forever indebted to and that I will carry with me so that they can help guide me through whatever comes next.

Heartbreak

Why is it that when you need them the most, people seem to disappoint? Whether they be friends, lovers, family or co-workers it seems to me that when the chips are down we just feel totally abandoned by the people who are supposed to care about us most. The question however is how much of this abandonment is actually in our heads. It is possible that when we feel alone we make even the little things seem huge. Everything becomes a personal affront and if the people who love us don't understand, then clearly they must not love us that much.

But at what point did we start to place our happiness in the hands of others? What made that other person the end-all be-all of everything? And at what point did you decide to go along with this? Personally, I think my problem started with my parents. Don't get me wrong they were/are great parents, but my whole life has been centered around making them happy and proud of me. I feel like I have spent much of my nearly 30 years of life trying to ensure that they are pleased, many times in place of me. Sure, like all children I have reached out to my parents when I thought I needed them, but most of the time I just wanted to prove to my parents that all of their hard work had paid off. Somehow I convinced myself that the only way to be happy was knowing that my parents were also happy (about me).

I have always said that I am lucky to have parents that I can talk to. Parents who always have my best interest at heart, who want to see me succeed and who will help me when I need it. However, I have come to very real and very sad realization that sometimes parents can also let you down and actually make you feel worse, instead of making you feel better. Yes, they are human. And yes, they are allowed to make mistakes (I guess) but isn't it terribly disappointing when they do? We feel heartbroken when these heroes, these giants we have spent so much time looking up to become so completely ordinary. We do not love them any less, but perhaps it is in these moments when we start to realize that our happiness really should depend on us and not our parents (or anyone else for that matter).

Silver Lining

Yesterday, I was thinking about what makes a good person and was looking for quotes that talked about the difference between superficial beauty and inner beauty. I wanted to highlight that there are a lot of very "good looking" people who are actually quite hideous. I was unsuccessful in finding the appropriate quote and instead came across a quote by Victor Hugo "The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved — loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."

As soon as I read it, I smiled (and posted in on facebook). I realized that my unhappiness was mostly due to the fact that I was focusing on the wrong things. In truth, I have every reason to be happy. Yes, my life is far from ideal and there are numerous things that I'm working on changing. However, I am surrounded by amazing people who are there for me and with me everyday.

I am blessed to have some of the best friends a girl could hope for. These are people who have watched out for me when I sick, call me out when I'm being annoying and will laugh with me when things get weird. They are the people who listen and share. They are the ones that don't need to say much of anything, or can say everything with a simple gesture. I am blessed to have found such friends here in Saudi and in the US, in Colombia and around the world.

I also have the greatest family in the world. Let's be perfectly honest, my parents are awesome (those of you who have met them, can attest, those of you who haven't, are missing out). My sister is a daily reminder of how strong people can be. In short, I am one of those incredibly lucky people who really LOVE going home and spending time with these people. And, not only are they my family but they are also my best friends. They are first people I call when I need advice and the only ones that I listen to when they tell me I'm wrong (most of the time).

In short, if happiness is defined by the people that we surround ourselves with, then I have more than my fair share of reasons to be happy. I have people that love me despite the fact that I don't always make sense and can be moody, sarcastic, shy and forgetful. In short, I am loved in spite of myself, and I can't be thankful (or happy) enough.

Sick of Saudi

Well actually it's more like Sick IN Saudi. Both are correct but the latter better reflects my current situation.

Anyway, I have come down with the flu. This may not seem like a big deal, and ordinarily it wouldn't be, but I seem to keep getting sick. I am not going to claim to that person who NEVER gets sick, but I certainly wasn't the person who is ALWAYS getting sick. Now apparently, I am.

The problem with being sick here is twofold. First off, there are limited cold medicines you can take. This being the country of restrictions, the cough medicine is well, in my humble opinion, absolutely useless. I can go though an entire bottle of this supposed remedy and still cough up a lung. The second problem is that there is no where you can go and get a decent meal (a.k.a. no Whole Foods or Traders Joes from which to buy soup, the canned stuff just doesn't cut it). So here I am left to my own devices and as such resorting to mac and cheese and panadol.

I feel like I have gotten sick more often and for longer here than I ever had before. My dad thinks its psychological, others think it's environmental, I think they both might be right. I do believe that our state of mind does ultimately affect our physical well being, but living in a house that is constantly covered in dust and has serious mold issues can't be helping either.

Whatever the cause may be, my cold/fly induced psychosis has got me to thinking. We spend a lot of time thinking about how our lives could be different. The constant "what if?" that seems to drive our day to day existence. There are moments we look back on and want to change, other we want to relive and still others that we simply wish had never happened.

It's kind of odd, but sometimes I think that if some of the bad things that have happened to me hadn't happened, I would actually be worse off than I am now, which is certainly not how I felt when I was going through that. I wonder if this place, this moment, will also be one of those times. I mean I could probably sit here and list all the things I would change about my life here. I'm sure we all could. The grass always looks greener and all that jazz. But how many times do we actually sit down and think about how this hard moment, this particular difficulty is actually teaching you a valuable lesson?

And let's face it, it's the lessons that we don't necessarily want to learn that are the hardest to grasp, but once you actually do get a handle on that thing that seemed so obscure and far away, you wonder why it seems to difficult to begin with. The biggest obstacles to our own happiness is ourselves, so perhaps it's time to actually embrace ourselves for who we are, and accept that for better or worse we are exactly who we are supposed to be at this very moment.

Born to run.

Well not exactly. In fact for most of my life I've hated running. There was something about panting and sweating and being bored that really didn't appeal to me. At all. Then this year, I decided to try something different, and KAUST provided me with that something. They announced they would be having a Family 5K Run/Walk extravaganza. I figured this was my chance to finally fulfill a New Years Resolution. I would train to run a 5K, in three weeks.

So I made a plan, following the infinite wisdom I found on the internet, and proceeded to convince other would be runners to join me. I first asked my squash buddy. Yes, even after my accident I still took up squash and play with the same person. He took a little convincing so that he'd play with me again, but that is another story. Either way, we were walking out of the gym and I saw the sign up sheet for the 5K, turned to him and said "We should totally do this!" He said "ok."

As it turns out, he is a runner. He just didn't tell me this. So we start our training. The first day, we run for about 20 min. He looked like he was exhausted, I was ok. Wow, I thought, maybe this running thing isn't going to be that hard after all. Little did I know that the first run is the easiest.

The plan was to run every other night, so two nights after our first attempt, we went on a second run. My lungs burned, my legs ached and my stomach was not very happy, I wasn't even able to go as far as I had two nights ago. Uh oh, maybe training for a 5K in three weeks is not such a good idea, I thought. But there I was two nights later trying it again. This time I had two more runners with me. I must admit that there was a moment when I thought we all must look pretty funny because here was this one girl running with three guys. I felt like one of the ridiculous pop stars with her entourage/body guards running at her side. Run #3 was a success! I ran almost 4K.

The following runs were more advances and finally being able to run 5K in about 40 min. Now I should probably tell you that all this running was happening in the evening once it was much cooler out. Yes, incredibly it can get a cool 70 degrees here in Saudi, so we were taking advantage of the weather, paying little to no mind that the actual race would be at 10am.

The day of the race came much faster than we expected and by then we had basically split our little team into two. The ones who can run, and the ones you will jog (I was a part of the latter team). Those of us in the slower group set a goal to run/jog the 5K in less than 30 min. Amazingly, we did!

While I am not entirely sure I have bought into this whole running thing, I will attempt to continue doing it while the weather allows. Who knows, maybe by the time I leave Saudi I'll actually be one of those annoying people who wake up before work and go for a jog...

Hace un año

Today marks one year since I started working at KAUST. It's hard to believe that it has been a year (only a year!) since I first arrived in Saudi. It's been a year since I arrived alone in my Penn sweatshirt and was "rescued" by a good Samaritan expat. One year since the abaya shopping creepiness. One year since meeting the people who have become my family in Saudi.

A year ago today I arrived to this campus for the first time. I was full of hopeful expectation and was completely taken aback by what I saw. A campus that was not quite finished but still stunning. People from all over the world who had come to work on this experiment. I arrived to a cubicle and started by opening mail. How far I've come?

There have been ups and downs this year. Moments of complete chaos and moments of sheer joy. I've traveled more than ever before and have faced myself in ways I'd never done before. I've learned that I am stronger than I give myself credit for and that I have amazing friends. I've also discovered that there is more to life than a job that pays well and am now looking for more balance in my life.

While this may not have been the experience I thought it would be it has still been an experience that I will carry with me for the rest of my life and will probably influence everything I do from here on out. At a time when we think about New Years resolutions and what we want to do for next year I also think about what 2011 will bring and how to make the most of what is left of my time here. I will embrace what I can and learn to let go of what I can't.

I sit here in my office and listen to salsa and remember why I started this blog to begin with. I wanted to share this with those that I love. I wanted to feel connected to the people I left behind. I hope in some small way I have been able to do some of what I set out to do just one year ago and I hope you will continue to ride this crazy roller-coaster with me for as long (or short) as it turns out to be.

No More Melting into Oblivion

At what point "inner peace" and "total apathy" are actually the same thing? For weeks I had been desperately trying to stay afloat. I was so angry, sad, and frustrated at my inability to change anything meaningful in my life. Nothing was good, everything was bad and I was alone. I didn't have the life I had envisioned. I was in a job that made me unhappy, and unfortunately for me, couldn't really distance myself from it because I live where I work most of the people I know are just as unhappy. And let's be honest, discontent breeds more discontent. We had all become a sick, sad vicious cycle of perpetual venting and bad mouthing. Soon, discontent turns into sadness, and sadness turns into apathy which breeds... nothing.

In this new year I have decided to make a change. I have decided to face the tunnel and look for the light at the end of it with a smile. 2011 will bring good things, but in order for this to happen it has to start with me. No more feeling sorry about the life I don't have. Or the opportunities I didn't take. Or the job I don't particularly like. This year, I choose to focus on the positive aspects of my life. My wonderful friends. My amazing family. The strength I have developed in what can only be considered a "difficult" year. No more will I melt into oblivion. If this is what my life has handed me then I say, bring it on.

As many of you know, I'm pretty sure that these will be my last six months in KSA. As a result I think that the best use of my time is to take advantage of living here as much as I can. I mean it has been less than a year since I arrived and I have already paid off my two government loans! So, check that off the list. Coming here did that.

This year will be a year of great changes for a lot of people in my life. Some of my dearest friends are getting married, others are having babies, and other like me, are still trying to sort themselves out. In the end however, I think the big thing about the new year is the hope that it brings with it. We all look at the year that has just passed and the countless things that happened in it, the people we met and the decisions we made. We contemplate both the good and the bad and resolve to do better, or more, or different. I look forward to being a part of those big moments and having some of my own.

This year, I resolve to be a better version of me and to smile more often. I will look at everyday as a new adventure to be had and perhaps a new hill to climb. It's time to look at the positive and focus on what you do have control over. Surround yourself with people who are good for you and be brave enough to let go of those that are not.

Oblivion is a state of mind and I want out.

Unrealistic Expectations

I'm sure we've all done it. Created an illusion of someone based on someone we have just met. Then we make the fateful mistake of assuming that illusion and reality are one and the same thing. We soon find ourselves enamored by the idea of a person, whether it's because we looking for a soul mate or a new best friend. We place our hopes and fears into this person and hope against hope that our trust has been properly placed. We believe that this person is different and they understand us, complete us and will be with us for the rest of our lives. Then, the inevitable happens. They disappoint us.

Living the life of the expat I have learned one thing. People are rarely what they seem and certainly not what we want/hope/need them to be. When your options are limited, you make friends with anyone who will talk to you. You convince yourself that this shared experience will bind your friendship forever. You overlook things that would normally drive you crazy, and forgive what could otherwise be considered unforgivable. You are lonely and believe that the only people who can understand what that feels like are the people who have decided to live the same nomadic lifestyle. You are wrong.

The truth, as I see it, is that there are people who are meant to come into your life for a certain amount of time. Many of those of people are were friends of circumstance. People who would talk to you, that you shared a common experience with and as such were willing to overlook other personality "flaws." They were in your life when you needed them to be there, they were there for you, they taught you something about yourself, helped you get on your way or stopped you from doing something rash. In the end, the biggest disappointment is really the illusion that we ourselves have created. We must learn to accept this and move on.

In looking back at this year and my life in Saudi, I have learned a great deal about myself and the people I surround myself with. I have discovered the power of a real friend who may be thousands of miles away, but still knows exactly what to say and when. I have learned that true friends are with you regardless of where you are or how often you talk to them. They are with you in good and bad and have no problems in telling you when you are wrong or have made a mistake without passing judgment. They listen when all you need to do is vent, and will do their best to make you laugh when all you want to do is cry. While they may not know what it feels like to live where you do, they know you, and in the end that's all that really matters. These are the people that are with for the rest of your life and I have learned that we all need to take more time out of days to let these people know how lucky we are to have them in our lives and how much better our lives are because of them. Thank you to all of you who fall into this category.

A Saudi Wedding

This week I was invited to go to a Saudi wedding. No, I was not invited by the groom, or the bride. I was invited by a friend who happens to know the groom and asked if I and another friend could come along. He said yes.

Now there a couple of things everyone should know about Saudi weddings. One, they start at midnight. Two, the are during the week. Three, there are two; one for the groom and the men, and another for the bride and the women. Yes, like all things Saudi, the weddings are segregated by gender. Which in my mind begs the question, and you were invited by the groom?

As it was explained to me, it is not uncommon for people to bring their friends to a wedding. Most weddings want to be large, and this is one of the few occasions that people (or in this case women) can gather, dance and be merry. However, I was also told that I would need a dress. So we went shopping.

Traditionally I'm a big fan of shopping, but shopping in Saudi is not quite the same (for reasons I have mentioned before). This time, however, I was faced with what seemed like an insurmountable problem, I wanted a simple dress that would not go above my budget. Alas, it was not to be. The dresses in all the store we went to (and we must have visited at least 10 stores) were horribly over the top (think sequence, glitter, feathers and bling... all on one dress) and excessively over-priced. So I decided to wear one of my old dresses. Fine.

We arrive at the wedding (fashionable early?) at 11:30pm. We turn in our invitations and are ushered inside a room behind a partition. Once inside, we take off our abayas and hand them to clerk. I hear what I think is some kind of door bell, it is not. It is a woman "announcing" the arrival of guests to the party. She's loud.

We are among the first to arrive. The tables are set (23 to be exact). The all have large center pieces, coffee, sweets and hours d'oeuvres. There is live music (four women singing to what I though was recoded music) and a stage. Add to this, the waitresses (yes everyone in the room is female) who are coming around with a bunch of other little appetizers and sweets.

However, that is not the first thing I notice. In fact, I am too caught up in all of the colors! I guess since women here are forced to wear black all day, they go all out when it comes to these events. Pink, gold, blue, white, red, purple, yellow and every color in between, and what's more they are all dancing! Yes, I'll admit it is still a little weird to me see only women dancing (with no men anywhere to be seen) but what is more this is a (dare I say it?) sensual dance! It's kind of like Colombian cumbia with belly dancing added in.

Now here is the interesting tidbit. The women are all dancing on this stage that basically resembles a cat walk, and the mothers are watching. I am told that basically the mothers are looking to see who among these single women would be able to "satisfy" their sons (because obviously dancing must be a proxy for something else) and be marriage material. So, a wedding is also a matchmaking session. Very interesting indeed.

The party continues, with lots of dancing until suddenly (at like 2am) everyone starts to put their abaya back on. The lights dim. And finally the bride arrives, with her husband (thus the need for abayas). They walk down the cat walk in a spot light while everyone claps and yells their well wishes. The couple stand there for a while just kind of looking out at the crowd (behind the lights). And then it's time for the groom to go and for dinner to be served (at 3am). By now, however, my friends and I are too exhausted and decide to skip the meal which consisted of a huge buffet of all kinds of things.

Clearly just another day (or night) in Saudi!

La crisis de los casi treinta

So it has hit me like a ton of bricks, I am now 29, and lets be perfectly honest, 29 is practically 30! I realize that 50 is the new 40 and 40 is the new 30, so I guess 30 must be the new 25? (because really who wants to be 20 again?)

When I was younger, I wondered (as so many of us do) what my life would look like by the time I was 30. Clearly I would be married to a wonderful man, have the job of my dreams and probably a kid. I would be living in a great city in my own house and life would perfect. Little did I know, that instead I would turning 29 in Lebanon because I live in Saudi Arabia.

I turned 29 in the company of friends who understood that I did not want to hit this "milestone" in KSA because I was going to need a stiff drink to face the reality of what my life had become. The weeks around my birthday were among my worst here. I had gotten really down on myself and was really tired with the job, the life (or lack thereof) and everything in between. I was disappointed in myself, as if somehow I had made a mistake somewhere along the way that had gotten me to that point. Everything looked gray and miserable.

The birthday weekend itself was fraught with it's own series of problems. A friend of mine was detained in passport control upon our arrival in Beirut because was born in Iraq and his name was on some list. Turns out there are at least 1,000 people with the same name, and a number of them are wanted for doing bad things. On top of that, Iranian president Ahmedinejad was also going to be in Beirut for the weekend, so everyone was on high alert. A bad time to have a common name. Long story short, after two days of going back and forth to passport control, my friend was finally able to prove that he was who he said he was and allowed to travel within Lebanon.

As for Ahmedinejad, we actually did cross his caravan thrice! All in the same day. All within about an hour. The first time, we saw them in the distance as the president must have been giving some speech. The second time we saw the caravan drive by and were even privy to seeing men point their very large guns at us as they went by. One of them was literally holding the back door of an SUV open with his legs so as to have his arms free for said very large gun. The third time, we saw the caravan at what must have been the hotel where the president was staying. I think it's safe to say, that by then, the glamor of our "celebrity sighting" had worn off.

The rest of the trip was fun. We saw Baalbeck, the Cedars and went up the "teleferique." Overall, however, I was not as impressed by my trip as I thought I was going to be. I was expecting over the top partying and we didn't really do any of that, it was after all the Saudi weekend, which is right smack in the middle of everyone else's work week. So maybe that had something to do with it. Oh well, will have to give it another go at some point, but this time will make sure that it's a Fri - Mon kind of thing.

The Life?

It's been a while since I've posted anything on here and I do apologize for that, so this is my attempt make up for lost time and to update you all (if there is anyone still reading this) what I have been doing for the last two months.

July
As you know from my previous post, July started on a high (with the end of my safari and trip to Egypt) and ended with a low (with what might be the stupidest accident ever). After my accident, I did fly to Florida to visit family, and go to the doctor (let's just say I have more confidence on the health care I could receive there). After about a week, I was back in walking shape and was able to enjoy the rest of my time with my family.

August
August started in Florida where I was able to attend the wedding of a dear friends of mine from KAUST. He got married in a beautiful ocean-view ceremony. After that, I had the adventure (or "dis" adventure) of a lifetime in trying to get back to Saudi. Turns out my original flight was canceled and because my tickets had been so cheap I had a terrible time trying to get anyone else to get me back to KSA in time. In the end, it took me almost 48 hours and I was only here for about four days before I was sent to Seattle.
I was in Seattle for almost 10 days and had a lovely time. I was representing the university at a conference (which between you and me was a complete waste of time) but at least I got to see some old friends and be away from Ramadan for a bit.

September
I arrive for the last 10 days of Ramadan. Which is the holy month of fasting in Islam. It was quite an experience. As KSA is the nexus of the Muslim faith, it means they run a pretty tight ship. As a result no one was allowed to be seen with food or drink during the day (whether you were fasting or not) and every single restaurant or food-selling establishment was closed during daylight hours. Suffice to say, that whether you were fasting or not, this was not the easiest time to be at KAUST but it provide another glimpse into a deeply religious society.
After Ramadan came Eid. I should explain that there are no real holidays in KSA, no long weekends (with the exception of one), so basically people take their own vacation time and the two Eid weeks. The first Eid is after Ramandan, a celebration of sorts. The other is during Haj, the pilgrimage. But anyway, there was Eid and me with nothing to do, so do I decide? "Let's go to Greece" and to Greece I went! I visited Athens, Delphi, Olympia, Mycenae and Corinth. I had an incredible time!
I returned for a week and was off again, this time to Oman for the long weekend. The one long weekend of the year, the occasion being 'Saudi National Day.' So what do I (and so many other expats) do? Leave Saudi. Oman was lovely. I highly recommend it for its cleanliness, friendly people and overall happy atmosphere.
And now October is here! Yikes, so much to do so little time...

Squash Lesson a.k.a. You are an Idiot!

And by you, I mean me.

I'll get to why in a second, but first let's recap the past month or so.

1. Safari! Was amazing, there are over 3,000 pictures to prove it. We saw every animal there is to see and with the exception of the rhino, we saw all of them within 10 feet of our car. My safari compatriots were awesome. We had an incredible time.
2. Zanzibar. Very relaxing, although we did have a couple of misadventure with a local named Bob. All I will say is that if you ever go to Zanzibar and meet Bob, slowly walk in the opposite direction.
3. Egypt. One word, HOT. Very hot, and I live in KSA so I know what I'm talking about. Other than that, it was great. The pyramids in Cairo, the temples in Luxor, the Nile. Everything you ever wanted to do or see in Egypt and we managed in three days.

So after an amazing two weeks vacation through Africa I got back to KAUST thinking, life is good and this job made that trip possible, so if A = B and B = C then clearly A = C and this job is great. Right? Wrong.

I arrived to an admissions nightmare. While I can't really go through the details (not allowed) I can say this, I have never worked in this type of environment. The s**t had hit the fan and we were all scattering around to try to clean it up. What a mess. My vacation high wore off within a matter of hours and I soon remembered why I had so desperately needed that vacation to begin with. I also then began to focus on the fact that I had another vacation coming up soon.

So on to why yours truly is an idiot.

Well, in all of the madness that was admissions a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to play squash. I had never played squash before, but it sounded like a great idea. So we coordinated to meet at 7pm on the squash courts at the gym. By 7:10pm, my lesson had begun. I was learning that unlike tennis, the squash ball does not really bounce so you have to run like hell to swing at it on time. I was also learning all about what is in, what is out and how you serve (none of which seemed particularly difficult in theory, but proved to be an arduous task). After my lesson, we started to volley a bit so that I would get the swing of things before we actually started to play. Well it seems as though my hand to eye coordination isn't so bad because I was actually hitting the ball about 90% of the time.

In all of this excitement I ran to catch a ball, hit it and then tried to run out of the way so that it wouldn't hit me. This turned out to be a bad idea. I ran into the wall with my hand behind my back and successfully hit my back with my watch and the wall. The accident was stupid (and as a result so am I) and for a bit I really didn't think it had been a big deal. That was, until I tried to sit down and couldn't. So here am I trying to sit down next the squash courts while my friend is telling me I'm fine, when someone from the gym walks by and asks me if I'm ok. I explain that I have hurt my back and he says (in a panicky type voice) "don't move ma'am. I will go get the physical therapist!" Even though I was having a hard time finding a comfortable way to sit down, I still didn't think this was a big deal. Well, five minutes later, the man had come back with three other people in tow. "Can you lay down?" "Where does it hurt?" "How did you fall?" "Did you lose consciousness?" All at once. Suffice to say, at this point I'm beginning to worry.

"We have to call 911." WHAT?!!! No, please don't call 911, I don't want to go the clinic (and I don't trust that clinic!). "Sorry, ma'am but it's procedure, they'll be here in a minute and will take you to the clinic in a stretcher." Is the stretcher really necessary? I mean can't I just walk to the ambulance? "No, you have to be immobilized. You hurt your back and we have to be very careful." Wonderful.

The EMTs arrive. Both men, both (bless them) clueless. Again they ask me, "can you lay down?" No. "Ok, then we will have to put this brace on you while you sit and then we will move to you to the back board on the stretcher." Oh joy, they put on a brace, put a collar around my neck and tape me up to some contraption so that I was "immobilized." Well, there is just one problem. I am female, they are male. They are not supposed to touch me. The brace was loose, so much for immobilization. They then try to move me to the stretcher, where again they try to lay me flat, I scream. "Ok, keep your legs up." We then begin the five minute attempt to get the stretcher up and mobile. The pain is starting to build, I am starting to cry. Everyone is starting to get more nervous, me included.

A group has gathered to watch me be rolled out of the gym, on a stretcher, taped to some immobilization thing with a neck collar and everything. "This is not why they call it squash" a friend says to me. I laugh. It hurts.

We arrive in the clinic. I am ushered to the "ER." A room of curtain-type rooms, we are the only ones there. Again, they have to move me. I brace for the pain. This time the doctor is in charge, the move is not as painful as I had envisioned. Hurray for small victories. No more ridiculous tape, neck brace or spine brace thingy. By now, I have tears streaming down my cheeks, yes it hurts, but I'm also freaking out. They give me morphine through an IV, say it should work almost immediately. It doesn't. My friends begin to arrive. Word has spread of my accident. I love my friends.

The medical history questionnaire: "How old are you?" 28. "Any allergies?" Not that I know of. "Are you married yet?" (Yet?!) No. "So you can't be pregnant" I guess not.

Ok, now the doctor. She seemed very nice. Told me she understood what I was feeling, she too had been without her family when she was studying in Canada for eight years. I think she was being condescending, but that could be a lost in translation moment or the drugs, who knows. I am being moved to radiology, they need to take x-rays to make sure nothing is broken. So they move me. We arrive in radiology, another clueless guy. They move me onto yet another bed for the x-ray, this one is really hard. It really hurts. I scream again. DON'T TOUCH ME!!! "Ma'am you need to lie flat." I CAN'T! Hmmm... Finally someone comes, more morphine. Pain continues. Dr comes "you have low threshold for pain, don't you?" (Are you kidding me? This is bedside manner?) I don't respond. "Wait a little for the medication to do it's job." Ten minutes later I'm still in pain but somehow manage to lay flat. X-rays taken. I'm crying. I get moved again.

Back in the "ER." Still crying, still hurts. Friends looking very worried, but everyone telling me I'm going to be ok and I look fine. Liars. I've been crying I know I look like crap, but I love them for trying. Back in my "room" the doctor returns along with the lady from the gym who was been watching out for me this whole time (turns out her mom runs the clinic, but she is currently on vacation). "We are going to give you more medication and then you need to sleep." Ok. She turns to my friends "You guys are going to have to go, she needs to calm down for the medicine to work." They agree, and leave. I try to sleep. Try.

After about an hour, I ask, Can I go home now? "Yes. I will have my driver drive you home" the doctor says to me. "He will be here in 15 min" An hour later, driver finally arrives. It is now almost 2am. I arrive home, in a wheelchair. My friends have moved my mattress to the first floor, it is now neatly made in the middle of my living room. My friend is waiting for me. Again, thank goodness for these people.

It is now almost 3am, I finally lay down and try to get some rest. By 6am I'm still trying...

Marine Conservation is a Family Affair

This week I was in Phuket, Thailand. This was my second trip to Thailand, but my first visit to Phuket. The flight there was long. I flew Jeddah-Dubai-Bangkok-Phuket. In Dubai I had to fortuitous opportunity to crash in the Emirates First Class lounge (as it turns out, my manager’s brother works for the airline and while I was flying cattle class, at least I was able to wait for my next flight in style.

The arrival in Bangkok was less relaxing. Upon arrival I was greeted by one of the Emirates staff with a placard that had my flight information on it. She looked me, quite exasperated, and said “you have 20 minutes to make your flight!” What? I thought I had like an hour! Ok, where is my flight leaving from? “The other side of the airport. You’d better run.” And run I did, like 900 m, from one end of the airport to other, with a short stop for immigration in between. I arrived at the gate, panting for air, and the gate was pretty much empty. My flight was not, in fact, scheduled to leave for another 45 minutes. Oh well, at least I got some semblance of a work out.

Phuket is lovely. I was staying at a hotel in Phuket town, which is not near the beach. It’s actually about 45 minutes from the beach, much to my disappointment. I was fortunate that there were several KAUST people at the conference I was attending (they were presenting, I was sitting outside at a KAUST table, in the shadows).

I did meet many of the KAUSTians for dinner on the night of my arrival and we went out to watch some of the soccer matches. We found an English pub to watch the Germany game (three of the people I was with are German) and watched them lose. The Italian and I were trying not to laugh too hard. We then had dinner at a local restaurant where I was able to rekindle my love for Thai food. Green curry, shrimp, soup, papaya salad… yum.

The next day we went to the beach. Yes, we took a 45-minute tuk-tuk taxi ride to Kata beach, because “cata has to go to Kata beach” (they thought they were being so clever). At that was everything there is love about Thailand. The water was clear, people were surfing, families enjoying the sun, tourists, and locals all intermingled in a very relaxed environment of fun, sand, sea, and more Thai food

Then, day one of the conference. I woke up early, and set up the table. I was surprised to see conference attendees with their children in tow. I guess Coral Reef conservation is family affair after all. Although, I can’t imagine a conference (even with pretty pictures of fish) would be fun for a child, but then again, maybe they have different sensibilities than I did as a child (or even now). I have to say that “manning the table” at these conferences is really quite boring. I basically get to sit at a table and smile like a moron at everyone that walks by. Most of these people look very confused when I try to make eye contact and even though I have all of this great stuff to give away, they are looked almost scared to approach the table. Maybe, it’s me. Maybe, it’s KAUST. Who knows?

Primping and Prepping...

Today I went to get my legs waxed. This might not seem terribly exciting but it got me thinking about a couple of things.

First off, I thought about the torture that women subject themselves to (I mean who really wants to have hot wax applied to your skin and ripped off with a piece of cloth?). However, as a woman who does subject herself to such torture, I must admit that I have a love/hate relationship with the whole ritual. Perhaps I have been brainwashed by society into thinking that one standard of beauty applies, and that standard is hairless legs, but regardless, there is nothing quite like walking out of the salon and feeling like your legs look like a million bucks (even when in reality they are covered in a million little red dots). I also really like the idea that someone else (who can actually see the back of my legs) is making sure that every last piece of unwanted hair has been removed. I do not like the pain that comes with the removal of hair in what must seem to many like a barbaric thing to do to yourself, but in truth the pain subsides and after a while all you can focus on are those shorts you haven't worn in a while because you "couldn't" (that is, of course, if you are allowed to wear shorts at all).

Secondly, I thought about the beauty parlor itself. Beauty parlors in Saudi are quite interesting. First off, they have no windows (or all of the windows have been covered) which makes you almost feel like you are walking into a cave. The reason the block out their windows is so that the women inside could "uncover" (meaning remove an abaya, hijab or niqab) if they so choose without having to worry about the prying eyes of men. To me it just adds to this odd feminine mystique that is all things Saudi. Women are not supposed to do anything to attract the attention of men, they are not meant to look attractive so that men will not have impure thoughts about them. Thus the covering of windows at a beauty parlor. I mean, heaven forbid that men think of a woman making herself look nice, even less getting her legs waxed, that would have him thinking about her legs!!! Oh dear.  So then, why have a beauty parlor at all? Ah, well that is so that women can get all nice and pretty for each other and for their husbands.

Finally, I though about the women who work in the beauty parlor. Beauty parlors are probably the only retail place you will find women working (with the exception of very few lingerie stores). This is of course, because the women will be in "indecent" situations while in the beauty parlor and as such only other women should be allowed to see. The women that I've met who work there are not from Saudi, they come from places like the Philippines or India. In both cases they are women who are on fixed contracts for two years and have left family (and even children) back home to make money here in the Kingdom. I can't even imagine what that must be like. These are women that are not allowed to take a day off (unless they are very, very ill) and basically shuttled from one cave (their segregated houses) to another cave (the windowless beauty parlor). They are soft spoken and clearly very afraid to speak their minds. It does not take much to imagine how homesick they must be and how hard it must be for them to be working in a country that considers them the lowest of the low (one for being women and two because of where they are from and what they do). People who work in the service industry are poorly treated in this place and it shows on their faces.

When I think about how much harder these women have it, it makes me ashamed to complain. But I guess in the end we are all dealing with many of the same problems. We are all learning to live and work in a country and within a culture that is completely foreign to us and where no one really wants to take the time to explain. So it' up to us to navigate (sometimes with no map or compass) the vastness that is living in Saudi, while desperately reminding ourselves that it will all be worth it in the end.

In Preparation for Landing...

... in Africa, there are many preparations that need to take place when one is getting ready to go on safari. In most cases, these steps would be considered a bit of a nuisance to get done but would not really cause much problems. I, however, do not live in the world of "most cases," I live in Saudi. And as I have discovered, things in Saudi have their own way of working.

After getting my yellow fever vaccine in France, the doctor there asked me what I was going to do about preventing malaria. To be perfectly frank, I had figured, I grew up in countries with malaria and never had a problem so I hadn't really planned on anything, but I told the good doctor that I wasn't sure. "You have to get a prescription for anti-malaria pills. They are a must for someone going on a trip like yours." Ok, I thought, I'll ask the doctor in Saudi when I get back. That seemed to put the doctor at ease and he let me go.

Upon arrival at KAUST I called the clinic and made an appointment to get my anti-malaria pill prescription. I showed up on time, paid in advance for my consultation and patiently waited for the doctor to see me. She called me into a room where I sat on a chair and explained that I was going on safari in Tanzania and I needed anti-malaria pills. "When are you leaving?" she asked. I told her my flight leaves the 24th. "Good! You are the first person to ask for these pills in time." Great! So she explained to me that what she was prescribing for me was a pill I needed to take once a week, starting two weeks before my trip, during the length of my trip, and eight weeks after my trip. So a total of 12 weeks of medication. Sounds like a lot of poison, I thought, but ok. She pulls up my file on her computer and notes "Patient going on safari. Prescribed X drug for malaria prophylaxis."

So I go to the pharmacy, get my prescription and go to work. At work, I go online, just to make sure that the doctor has given me the right medication (as I've mentioned in previous posts, the health care system in Saudi is well... not perfect. Fortunately it is also very cheap...). Well, good thing I did. According the CDC website, the main ingredient in the pills she had prescribed was the one thing the malaria in Tanzania is resistant to. So I call the clinic again and ask to speak to the doctor. I explain to the doctor that I have looked up the pills on the CDC website and that I can't take these pills because the malaria in Tanzania is resistant to them. "Oh, you're going to TANZANIA! In that case, can you come back? I can prescribe something else."

I excuse myself from work, go back to the clinic and see the doctor again. She had also pulled up the CDC website and was trying to figure out which of the medicines they recommend is actually available in Saudi. Fortunately, there is one. She tells me that I will have to start taking this pills two days before my trip and take them everyday while on the trip and for four weeks after I return. She pulls up my chart on her computer and adds a note in my file that says "Patient going to Tennessee, with medication X resistant malaria, prescribing medication Y." I didn't realize that Tennessee was in Africa, much less that it had drug resistant malaria, but I figured I'd let that one go.

At least the medication I have now is on the CDC website as something I should be taking. It also, however, says that this medication can cause nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to sunlight, and in some cases can cause severe allergic reactions, vision changes and discoloration of teeth. And it's not even guaranteed to prevent malaria! So, we'll see how this goes.