The security guard thinks i'm a terrorist

We have a relatively new security guard and it has become pretty clear that she thinks I'm secretly trying to blow up the school. For months and months I've been on excellent terms with the security at our school- when I lived there I used to make them tea or bring them ice cream. And they were always extremely sweet. So every morning when I come to school they give me a sharp salute ( I jokingly saluted the guards once, and now I guess its our thing) and wave me on through the gate. BUT NOW there's a new gal, and she has thrown my entire morning out of orbit. She is both fierce, and scary. She could eat me in a single bite. Every morning she gives me the once over, and takes my bag and gives it a thorough search and then eyes me again- I laugh nervously and eye my freedom just inches away, "yep, still just textbooks and exams to hand back, no bombs today..sorry! That? oh that's just a pencil.. yeah it's a #2, it's no big deal.."

But the other day we had a big break through!

My classes had their oral presentations! Each teacher does the orals a different way. I give my students a minimum of three minutes to talk about whatever they want- as long as it's orignal material, not read from a paper, and not about their favorite football club(the first time I did this, 7 boys did their oral about Manchester United. Booorring.) This is an individual presentation. They can bring props, pictures, powerpoints, costumes, food, whatever they want. I give them ample warning, but no in class time to prepare. I looooove oral day, it's one less day I have to make a lesson plan for. They all get scared and hate it.

My first class absolutely rocked it this session, it was amazing. They all got together on their own time and helped each other prepare and make them interactive. One person would give her oral, and a few of her classmates would do a skit that followed along perfectly. Or one guy did his about the ritual ablutions before the five daily prayers- one student acted as the imam, calling out the prayer, as the other spoke and demonstrated how it was done. One girl taked about Aids- at first I thought she was talking about "Eid" the Islamic holiday after Ramadan.. then I thought she was talking about "aid" and charity organizations... then I decided to stop guessing and listen to what she was saying. She dressed up in a in a doctors lab coat, with a stethoscope and brought in a skeleton and a big skull. Usually my kids suck at the oral- they get scared, or don’t plan or take it seriously, or they really show their level (I teach level 104) but these kids really, really excelled. I was like a proud mama, beaming at all of them.

Two girls got special permission to work together, their topic: Traditional clothes for women. What women? This woman. I didn’t realize I was the prop until it was much to late. They dragged me off to the bathroom and dressed me up in a pink, purple, silver and gold flowing dress. They pinned some of that wilty green plant so frequently seen at weddings in my hair, and gave me a string of jasmine petals to wear around my neck. They taught me a hip-swaying, sashaying little dance. Then we went back to class(which I had left completely unsupervised. woops.) and as they spoke I did my little dance around a tub of burning perfumed incense. It was hysterical. I needed to show my boss, this was just too funny- I ran into the adjacent class, did a quick impromptu tap dance in front of the startled teacher and darted to the office to showcase my traditional Yemeni beauty. It caused a bit of a scene. Students, teachers, staff stormed my classroom to see, crowding around the sides, and hanging in the doorway- there were students from other classes lined up outside, their faces pressed to the window trying to see. I had to pose for about around a million pictures to cries, “oh teacher! So beautiful” and “you look perfect!” – I was wearing a GIANT, loose dress, I had a necklace of yellow flowers, and dead green leaves in my hair, my “loveliness” was much the same as the “rare beauty” I displayed at the Yemeni wedding. Everyone was asking why my class got to have a party on a normal school day. Party? Nahh… this is oral day! But guess who else showed up? The scary lady guard! She came over and got in several pictures with my students and I. And you know what else? She SMILED at me.

GHOULISHLY GOOD TIME?

I forgot about Halloween. D-WORD I keep forgetting about American holidays. I had a piece of Yemeni candy made from Tahini paste- the crucial additive to hummus- which is almost the same thing as going to a bunch of Halloween parties, wearing absurd costumes, trick or treating, and eating those mini candy-corn pumpkins until I lie in the fetal position moaning and writhing. I almost remembered about it, almost. About three days before the big holiday, a bunch of the YES alumni (the students who had previously spent a glorious year in an American high school usually someplace god awful like Mississipi) approached me about helping them plan a Halloween party at Amideast.
Initially I was HIGHLY skeptical- I have previously been approached on numerous occasions for help with similar activities, all wonderful in theory, but in their exuberance they forget one crucial thing: we’re in Yemen. “Taryn! Help us form a co-ed baseball club!” Awesome! Except…. There aren’t any fields or even open spaces…. Baseball doesn’t exist here…. We would have to order equipment from another country…. It would be too dangerous for the girls to play in their abayas and hijabs…. Young boys and girls should NOT be running around together in public… and its effing hot.
As I continue to take pains not to let my rather antisocial, introverted nature become public knowledge, I of course feigned enthusiasm, and gave my hearty assent.
They wanted to make this party at Amideast, and force all the ACCESS students to attend- so we would be forcing an American holiday on about 220 people. Hmmmm.

Soon we started talking logistics- not only is this holiday HIGHLY haram, but there isn't the slightest bit of Halloween decoration for thousands of miles in any decoration. Do you think Saudia Arabia celebrates Halloween? The Kingdom is our closest neighbor.
I came up with QUITE a list of possible G-Rated Halloween party activities culled from the vast wealth of knowledge I gained at King’s West’s yearly “Harvest Festival.”
-shredding up cotton balls in lieu of spider webs
-scary music
-black garbage bags covering the walls to make it dark
-paper ghosts hanging from the ceilings
-scavenger hunt around the school
-food and drinks- I wanted to freeze a latex glove full of red food coloring, and then float it in the punch bowl. I also wanted to spike the punch but I didn’t make that suggestion out loud.
-That gross/scary food guessing contest- peeled grapes are eyes, cold spaghetti are the guts!
-make carmel apples and popcorn and bob for apples (sorry girls, no burkas in the communal bobbing water) When I suggested this they said, “Oh? What’s bopping for apples?” There is no “p” in the Arabic language, they simply substitute it for the letter “b” and Yemenis confuse the hell out of the two. Puttering their pread, or going to the clup or peach.
-I asked all my students where I could find a pumpkin and they were like, why at the fruit stall across Shabbat of course! But then we reached the mutual conclusion that I was talking about a pumpkin and they, in fact, were talking about a watermelon. So okay, why not? Let’s have a watermelon carving contest.
-trick or treating around the classrooms
-costumes competition- I figured this would be the first party in the history of Halloween parties whereby the teenage girls weren’t going to dress up as sex kittesn and naughty school girls.
-raffle
-haunted house in a classroom.
-a cake walk! (A.Kuske and I OWNED the cake walk at Family Fun Night at King's West)
I made about one-million suggestions and then was like “okay! Good luck!” but eventually the ULTRA-HARAMNESS of Halloween in Yemen proved an insurmountable obstacle and the whole thing was canceled. And so three days later, Halloween, just another day under the fiery Yemeni sun.

Attention Mom, Dad, and Kallyn- If this post reminds you of another young girl of our acquaintance, a young girl who also had trouble remembering the difference between two letters- this is neither the time nor the place!

More on camels

In other Camel news-
Cultural note** Yemeni’s are convinced, CONVINCED that if you accidently ingest camel’s milk before major surgery, the secret, antidotal qualities in the milk will render the anesthesia completely ineffective. Because didn’t you know, camel’s milk thwarts science.

whispered sweet nothings

A former friend/ wannabe suitor came back into my life recently and sent me this earnest little message:
“Please tell me your INGREDIENTS because I mixed
100 kg of sugar with 80 kg of chocolate, and 60 kg of honey, but I still can’t make a person as sweet as you.”

I laughed out loud in glee when I first read it. This is now my ultimate favorite pick up line. I desperately wanted to show someone this glorious little gem of a message- which was intended to be taken seriously- and waited in a high state of excitement for Ben to finish his classes. After he read it, Ben rolled his eyes and quipped, “Does that mean he thinks you weigh 240 kilos?”


Side Note** I do NOT weigh 240 kilos

vial of vile. That doesn't even make sense.

Today I was at Lulu Hypermarket- which I sometimes publicly refer to as “Club Lu’s” because I’m that cool, when I came upon a highly perplexing new product- Camel Oil! Dear god what could that even be? It was a tiny little vial in the toiletries section- I only know camels to be large, ungainly, brutish sort of creatures of a highly aromatic nature- I cannot even begin to fathom what sort of medicinal, salubrious, or titivating purpose OIL FROM CAMELS could possibly have. I know I for one would not wish to have that on or around my face.

In my mind I picture camel hooves and humps being pressed like olives.

panicky for at least 20 seconds

The other day I was bumbling along on my way home- on a route I’ve taken at least 432 times- I was lost in contemplative musings aka rummaging around in my bag for that last wayward cookie when I looked up and found to my complete and utter shock that I was in totally uncharted terrain, terra incognita if you will. Lost! It made me instantly panic and I whirled about in my high state of bewilderment- the problem? I wasn’t lost at all, there was just a new street vendor fruit stall. It totally threw my world out of orbit. That’s all. I found my way back home, so you don’t need to worry. Wow, that was a really good story.

ricocheting poop splash

This is easily the most vulgar title that has ever graced the pages of this blog. It had to be done.

Last night Ben and I decided to go to a film screening at the German center- this was indeed an exciting occurence because the last time they showed a film (at the French center) was about 5 months ago.
The film was "Das Boot" about a German U-boat during the war. Before I knew that that was the name of the film we would be presently watching, Ben made a comment about "something, something, das Boot" I go, "Oh, Das boot? You mean like those big boot-shaped beer glasses? yeah, there's a bar in Seattle that has those!"
Not one of my brightest moments.

it turned out to be an almost 4 hour ordeal- Ben and I were the only ones there except for the one German guy and the two people that run the French center. It was awkward. I felt like we couldn't leave, plus I liked it, I wanted to see how the film ended!
*SPOILER ALERT*
the Germans lose the war.

But here is the kicker...
We were watching the film outside on a big projector- happily enjoying fresh squeezed orange juice, and munching on some shwarma with a fan blowing on our backs. it was straight up posh for Yemen. About a half hour into the film, all these bats started flocking above us. Ben and I watched them interestedly almost as much as we watched the film - making Ace Ventura jokes, the bats were darting and swooping overhead, making a surprising amount of racket.
And then...
one pooped on my FOREHEAD.
no but seriously. A BAT POOPED on my FOREHEAD.
There was such force behind the expellation of guano that it RICOCHETED ONTO BEN'S SHIRT.
What a nice moment for us to share together.