Of sand storms and things

It's sand storm season here. We've had a couple of beauties lately, ones where my kitchen bench had small dunes of red sand and my whole place was covered in a layer of dust. One of the worst things about the sand storms or Shamal is that people go a bit crazy in the winds and heavy, humid heat. The kids at school are no exception.

One of the teachers told me today that summer has arrived as we walked across the courtyard in 40C plus heat. I agree, summer appears to be here. Everyone seems a bit tired and cranky and ready for a holiday. Alas, there's no break until July for the new ones in the team, the teachers or the kids. The ones who have been here longer get this week or next off and it doesn't help to hear about where they're going for their hols. Wonderful, we say enviously.

At least the sand storms here are not as fierce or frequent as the ones in Qatar. The storms there were more dust than sand, sticky white dust from the construction and destruction in the city. I can remember walking through a dust storm to the supermarket one evening with a pashmina covering my whole head, difficult to see but a necessity. I had a guest coming to share my last bottle of red and wanted cheese. Despite being covered, I got covered in dust.

I'm busy at work, enjoying working in Arabi again. Enjoying the teachers humour, conversations with them, meeting their families, learning more of the language and the sharing of our cultures. I learnt a lot from the teachers in Qatar and have had their philosophy reinforced here. For the teachers, their families come first; they enjoy interacting with each other over food and they don't worry about the small stuff.

This is a culture of hospitality and friendly inclusion, and I feel privileged to have been made so welcome. I think that New Zealanders seem to be more accepting of the differences we find in other cultures and therefore we tend to be more readily accepted by others. This perhaps comes from our history of colonisation, the imposition of one culture onto another. We are aware of the issues. I take care not to do that here, to value what the teachers know and do and to work alongside them to improve our practices.

I had the loveliest conversation today on our way to a book fair in a bus full of chattering girls . The teacher is one who speaks a little English and she asked about where I was from. Near Australia? She knew that NZ had heaps of cows and sheep. Now she knows it's also a small country with few people compared to other places around here. I have promised to bring some photos, the KINAs who have been here awhile are keen to see some of home too. A job for the weekend.

I've really appreciated the flood of emails I've had in the past week or so. It's great hearing the news, the goss from home. Kez and Sasi are now home owners, Nick and Courtney have a new flat and I got to talk to Tim and Sarah on Skype. I hope to catch up with others on Skype this weekend and get some replies written.

Later I write, I've just been out to admire Tracey's car. When we arrived, Tracey declared she would never drive here. A couple of months later, she has a car. She's our taxi for the morning, looking forward to another adventure! At least we know the way to school between us.

I'm thinking now that I might need to get my licence organised so I can drive too. It'll make life easier although less social as I share a taxi everyday and get rides home via Scalinis or La Brioche, both of whom have very good coffee. They also know how I enjoy mine.