Thoughts before I move to Abu Dhabi

July 22, 2010
Preparations for Abu Dhabi
Aloha. I’ve been trying to write or speak with you all individually about my preparations for Abu Dhabi, but have only managed to convey the minimum of information, including: I will not know what my flight date is until after August 1; we are being instructed to be ready for a mere 24 hours notice; I’ve requested a 3-4 day layover between my flight from Honolulu and my departure from my “hub” city, New York, but I won’t know if that request will be honored until my flight plans are made, and finally, my visa and authentication paperwork is somewhere in DC between the US and UAE Embassies. It’s unnerving to know that original documents such as my masters diploma, my Connecticut teaching license and our marriage certificate are somewhere, out there, and I’m at the mercy of Federal Express and the United States Postal Service.

I thought that you’d enjoy reading about how my life is changing as I prepare to begin a new job teaching English in Abu Dhabi. May I remind you this will be the fifth move for Paul and I in just under two years. How I know things are changing, and some thoughts:

My living room looks like the inside of a moving van.

If I had to, I could take a job as a mover. I can pack like a pro.

My new Facebook friends online are future colleagues: people I haven’t met yet, but with whom I have much in common. I met a woman who lives in Connecticut, graduated from East Catholic High School in 1983, taught in Norwich, and shares a love of shoes. She recently announced she accomplished a major task—packing all of those shoes into one suitcase. I think the obsession with shoes comes from ten years of Catholic school, never having to decide what clothes to wear, so we varied our shoes and jewelry. I am also wardrobe-challenged and shopping phobic for the same reason.

Cupboards, spice rack and freezer are emptying; I’ve cooked all the rice, used the majority of canned and frozen goods, and I have discovered that paprika isn’t a great substitute for chili powder, but it works.

I’ve added the Abu Dhabi time and weather banner to my home search page. It’s 8AM here, and 10AM tomorrow, over there.

I recognize the need to learn the equivalence between Celsius and Fahrenheit, and wonder if the temperature in Abu Dhabi is in Celsius so the number looks smaller: i.e. 60C vs 130F.

I have to use spellchecker to write “Celsius” correctly.

I have spent days shopping online for “warm weather long sleeved cotton women’s blouses”. Total purchases to date =1 white cotton tunic for which I paid $24.99.

I can make babbaghanoush. And I like it.

Foods I will miss which are abundant and often free in Hawaii: avocado, lemon, lime, banana, star fruit, Hawaiian plum, pineapple.

Animals I will miss which are abundant and free in Hawaii: Kauai chickens (Moa), the early morning coo of ring-necked and zebra doves and the sweet peeping of hundreds of “White Eye”, my little Cardinal “Flathead” and his girl who eat out of my hand, egrets chasing lawnmowers, whales, plovers, ghost crabs, geckoes, humuhumunukunukuapuaa, yellow tang, silvery schools of Travally, parrotfish, butterfly fish, and most of all --Hawaiian monk seals. Writing this made me weep. And yes, I can pronounce humuhumunukunukuapuaa (Hawaii’s state fish) with ease. I’ve learned in Hawaiian it’s simpler to break down the syllables, which often repeat: humu humu nuku nuku apu a a

I know what a VPN is. I purchased one yesterday. And I know why I need one.

Since 9/11, the War on Iraq, the oil spill catastrophe in the Gulf of Mexico and understanding Hawaiian culture, I’m becoming a living radar detector, sniffing out unkindness, prejudice, hidden agendas, dishonesty, hostility and negativity better than an airport beagle on an orange. I am honing my ability to detect, assess and (nicely) respond to the infinite barrage of human emotion pouring out over the internet via my Facebook page. I’m committed to taking the high road, to spreading love, tolerance, empathy, compassion and understanding. I will not allow the devil to suck me into the depths of despair and depression, hostility, hopelessness or hate. I will not allow the devil to make me angry or offensive at people who do not understand—or who have prejudice against—Muslims. I think the protest against the building of a Muslim mosque at 9/11 Ground Zero is ugly, scary and reflective of the what happens to human beings who have been hurt.

I see the hand of God in every day of my decision-making, preparations, thoughts, actions, friendships and marriage.

I will not miss endless hours of Marco! Polo! echoing from The Cliffs pool and wafting up to our lanai into our condo. (In Hawaii, unless you live in a hotel and don’t pay for electricity, you don’t close your windows. We hear every sound from every direction. And while the nights are perfectly, peacefully quiet and still, sometimes the daily cacophony of noise and sounds gets to me, and makes it difficult for Paul to sleep, now that he works graveyard shift at the Westin).

On July 24th, Brian and Marisa celebrated one year of marriage. I cannot comprehend or process where that year went, how quickly it passed, and how deeply I miss my family and friends back home.