Category Archives: life

Oh, hello April!

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A catch up list.

* My trip to Jordan was remarkable. Petra is definitely a thing you need to see if you’re anywhere in the Middle East. Vast. Mountain city. With lots of Bedouins hanging out and trying to sell you stuff. I’m working on an essay about it. I don’t even know where to start blogging about it, so here is a photo of me on a horse. There are a few more pix on my tumblr blog. I post a decent number of photos there – and it’s easier to post pix and reblog – which means I’m turning into a lazy blogger, I guess.

Not if we don't adjust those stirrups.

The next Indiana Jones?

• Travel in the Middle East is pretty restricted right now, so I’m not anticipating any more trips until June – Paris and July – USA and Canada.

• I’ve been reading a lot, thanks to the amazing friends who have sent me books to fill my shelves. I read at the beach, I read in my comfy chair, and I even have started listening to audio books in the car. Latest book I’ve totally fallen in love with: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. It . . . just . . . moved me in a way most books don’t get anywhere near my heart. Other authors I’m currently obsessed with: Neil Gaiman and Bill Bryson.

• Speaking of Neil Gaiman: the man is all over the internet and I adore that he answers all sorts of questions from his fans. His tumblr blog is lovely and friendly and accessible, as is all of the Twitter flirting between him and his remarkable wife, Amanda Palmer. From what I can tell, he really likes his fans. He is always gentle with even the most random questions, and when I read him, I just want to give him a hug. The thing I love most, though, is when he hands out book recommendations. He’s one of the contributors to this cool blog: What Is Culture, Coach? wherein a person who feels like they’ve missed out on reading and listening and watching all the things that “everyone” has read and watched and listened to asks for suggestions on how to Get Culture. So basically, what I’m trying to say, is that whenever Neil says “You should read this book.” to anyone on the internet, I get my hands on the book. My reading stack is bigger than ever, and I’m really glad I’ve finally gotten over my post-MFA dear god keep those books away from me I think I’m going to die slump.

• Getting acclimated to Abu Dhabi has been using up a lot of my bandwidth. I’ve finally gotten past the feels like vacation stage of being an expat, and I’m smack dab in the middle of holy crap, I actually live here now. This is my home. Now what? stage. To cope, I spend far too much time on Facebook and Twitter and tumblr. I’m rattled to the core. Did I really do this? Am I really living in the desert? Is my home in Minneapolis being inhabited by someone who is not me? Whose idea was this? When will I get used to it? I haven’t been blogging because I don’t want to whine or cause anyone to worry. But since we’re all here, I’ll just let you know – sometimes this is still really scary — the REAL of this. Those times, I don’t feel so brave. So that’s a thing.

• I read the newspaper every day and I’m trying to learn more about contemporary world history and global politics. Newsflash: Educated people not from the USA tend to know a lot more about the whole world and how things fit together than educated, white, middle-class, American me. Let’s just say it can be very embarrassing when someone you’re talking to knows a lot more about your country than you know about his or hers. I hate feeling ignorant, even when said someone is nice about it.

• I am halfway through my PADI open water dive certification and I got to swim in the Indian Ocean last weekend. It was pretty awesome. SCUBA is really physically demanding, and I’m now working on getting into better shape so I can swim comfortably and not wear myself out when I’m in the water. Also: dive gear is REALLY HEAVY. Plus: Oceans are cool. And big. Swimming in them reminds me that I’m really really insignificant: a nanosecond in the life of the sea. Helps keep all the feelings in perspective. There’s an essay in the works there, too. It feels good to be amazed by things and want to write about them. I haven’t been amazed for a while.

• A date would be nice.

• I’m really happy to be in Abu Dhabi. I still haven’t had a camel ride. Making friends is going pretty well. I miss my posse back in Minneapolis. I miss improv and HUGE Theater. Comedy class in Dubai didn’t go so well. Temps are in the upper 90s already and I’m about to find out how well I handle extreme heat on a daily basis.
• I miss you, I love you, and thanks for reading.

The Treasury was actually a tomb. A very fancy tomb.

The Treasury was actually a tomb. A very fancy tomb.

 

Enough. Just enough.

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This is a list of the worst school shootings that have happened in the USA. How many more of them need to happen before we change things? Thanks to the Daily Mail UK.

A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE: AMERICA’S WORST SCHOOL MASSACRES

1. Virginia Tech – 32 dead plus the shooter, 16 April 2007, Blacksburg, Virginia

Student Seung Hui Cho, 23, killed two stuidents in a dorm and then went through building of classrooms armed with two handguns, shooting at random before killing himself.

2. University of Texas – 16 dead plus shooter, 1 August 1966, Austin, Texas

Former Marine sniper Charles Whitman, 25, armed with an arsenal of weapons shot victims from the observation deck of the campus tower.

3. Columbine High School – 13 dead plus two shooters, 20 April 1999, Littleton, Colorado

Students Eric Harris, 18, and Dylan Klebold, 17, opened fire outside the school killing students and one teacher before shooting themselves in the library.

4. Red Lake High School – 9 dead plus shooter, 21 March 2005, Red Lake, Minnesota

Jeffrey Weise, 17, goes on a shooting spree at Red Lake High School killing nine people, including his grandfather, before shooting himself.

5. University of Iowa – five dead plus shooter, 1 November 1991, University of Iowa

Gang Lu, 27, a graduate student from China killed five with a .38-caliber revolver. He was apparently angry because his doctoral dissertation had not been nominated for an academic award.

6. Amish schoolhouse massacre – six dead plus shooter, 2 October 2, 2006, Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania

Charles Carl Roberts IV, 32, executes five girls aged 7 to 13 before killing himself in a small Amish schoolhouse

7. Jonesboro, Arkansas – five dead, 24 March 1998, Jonesboro, Arkansas

Mitchell Johnson, 10, and Andrew Golden, 8, took seven guns to school and pulled the fire alarm and shot students as they headed for the exits. Four died plus a teacher. The pair were sent to a juvenile detention center and released in 2005.

8. Cleveland Elementary School – five dead plus shooter, 17 January 1989, in Stockton, California

Patrick Edward Purdy entered a schoolyard and opened fire with a semiautomatic rifle at Cleveland Elementary School. Five children died and 30 others were wounded including one teacher. He then shot himself.

9. University of Arizona – three dead plus shooter, 28 October 2002, University of Arizona

Robert Flores, 40, a nursing student shot an instructor in her office before entering a classroom and killing two more teachers before committing suicide.

10. Kent State University – four dead, 4 May 1970, Kent State University in Ohio

National Guard troops killed four students who took part in anti-war protests on the campus of Kent State University in Ohio.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2248983/Connecticut-school-shooting-Adam-Lanzas-survivalist-mother-obsessed-guns.html#ixzz2FHo9QzA8
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook

Love letters to strangers

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Hannah Brencher’s mother always wrote her letters. So when she felt herself bottom into depression after college, she did what felt natural — she wrote love letters and left them for strangers to find. The act has become a global initiative, The World Needs More Love Letters, which rushes handwritten letters to those in need of a boost.

Hannah Brencher believes in the power of pen and paper, and has started a global initiative that encourages strangers to exchange love letters.

This TED speaker is so adorable – and I am a huge fan of mail. So if you want a love letter from me, send your address! I love stories, and I will tell you one with my own hands.

Michele Campbell, PO Box 36859, Abu Dhabi, UAE

Things I miss: A list

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A lot of my FB friends have been asking what it’s like here, and I always have a hard time coming up with a good answer – thus this month’s Abu Dhabi blog theme. However, today’s shipment of an incredible FOUR packages from the USA made me think a lot about what I’m missing about my homeland.

PACKAGES. Yes!

  1. I miss my old bookshelves full of books. I still don’t have a bookshelf here, but I sent out a missive to my list of FB friends and assorted family asking for books. I have eight more books today than I did yesterday, and now can go back to IKEA and buy a shelf for them.
  2. I miss knowing how to get things done. Like – at the post office, for example. They don’t sell stamps in Abu Dhabi. When you’re trying to mail 160 letters to 5 countries, they will say things to you in Arabic that you really hope aren’t rude, and then go get a manager who will bring you around to the back room behind the counter, through a hallway, past the loading docks, and into a cubicle that looks like it should be air conditioned but isn’t because the loading dock doors are open. He will then do something on a computer that looks very similar to what the person at the desk was doing and charge you 860 Dirhams to send your letters. He will then let you know that they only accept cash.
  3. I miss being able to have a beer with dinner and be trusted by local law enforcement to drive myself home. Because of the progressive attitude of the Sheiks here in Abu Dhabi, alcohol is available in the UAE at limited outlets (hotel restaurants, private clubs, and restricted sales liquor stores) but only with the possession of an alcohol permit – which basically states that the holder is a non-Muslim and understands that the UAE has a zero tolerance policy for driving after the consumption of ANY amount of alcohol. People who disregard this law end up either in jail or facing huge fines and possibly losing their residency visa. Good thing taxis are abundant and inexpensive.
  4. I miss my friends. Big time. I’ve had the amazing fortune to connect with a lot of compassionate, intelligent, and interesting people in Minneapolis and elsewhere: actors, writers, teachers, nurses, business people and God knows what all else. Each of the friends in my community added something to my life and I can only hope I did the same. I suspect I was on the receiving end more often than giving, and I’m grateful for their indulgences. Having only the first seeds of community here is encouraging, but challenging.
  5. I miss my students at SHS. They were funny, independent, vigorous group of heterogenous learners who always challenged my teaching skills and perceptions of the world. I enjoy my students here as well, but they are much more alike to each other than they are different. Maybe I say that now because I don’t know them well enough yet.
  6. I miss my massage therapist, my acupuncturist, and my support group meetings. Self-care in Abu Dhabi requires an incredible amount of self-advocacy. I’m used to finding immediate assistance if I need to process something or don’t feel well – haven’t worked out how to access that here yet.
  7. Nothing is easy in Abu Dhabi. An errand I think should take 15 minutes takes an hour. A drive across town could be 15 minutes one day and take an hour the next. Finding a store that’s “right across from the Abu Dhabi Mall” but on a different block than you were directed to could take four hours and two runs across town in different directions. I’ve learned to never get into the car hungry or without an extra bottle of water.
  8. I miss American accents. Most of my colleagues are British and Canadian. They talk funny. That’s code for they don’t get my sense of humor, my enthusiasm, my openness to talk about anything, my colloquialisms, or my understanding of the world. There’s also the words that come out of their mouths that I really don’t get. We’re working it out.

That’s about it for tonight. I could think of more, but I’m getting a little sad and don’t want to be a whiner. It is what it is. You take the good, you take the bad…

A little slice of life.

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Things are kinda hard to figure out here, as I expected. Here’s an example that happened a few weeks ago.

In the US, when I move to a new apartment, I call the 800 number for the gas company, give them my information, and then go turn on the stove. The gas comes out of the pipe pretty much right away – because it was never switched off in the first place – and I know that the bill will come to my house when it is due. That bill will perhaps include a connection or new customer fee and then show me how much natural gas I’ve used and bill me accordingly. I can also assume that I’ll also be able to read the bill.

In Abu Dhabi, contrarily, the gas supply to my apartment was switched off. When I asked my housing officer whom I should call to turn it on again, he said he would take care of it for me. Then he didn’t. When I asked him again, he said to ask the watchman to have it done. When I did that, the watchman told me that I needed to call the technician whose number was on the poster on the wall. Here’s where it gets really Abu Dhabi – I called the technician and asked what I needed to do to have gas in my apartment. He asked me where I lived – and here is a little thing that you might not know about living here – there are no street addresses. It took me awhile to learn to explain where I live to cab drivers and the dude with the really heavy accent on the phone was even harder. But we worked it out. My address is this: (details changed to a not-actual address, but something to give you the idea of how directions work here) Ibrahim Road on the corner of 111th Street/BoomShakalaka Road, behind the sanitary ware shops on the Super Fancy Hotel side of the street. Next to the What’s His Name Hotel in the Afgani Restaurant building. Apartment 505. (Or – if you’re the cable guy – Sector 18 Zone 5 Block D18. I didn’t find that out til later, though)

He told me I needed a copy of my visa, my passport, and 800 Dirhams (about $218.00 USD) for him to switch it on – or at least that is what I figured out later. He said: OK. I will come. It was about 10 in the morning and I didn’t know when he would show up, so I sat around all day and waited for him, then went out for about an hour for dinner (after 6 pm) and when I came back, the watchman said I had just missed him. I called the housing officer again the next day and asked if he would help me get in touch with him again because I had no idea what was going on, and the housing officer told me that I needed a letter from him and my employment visa to get the gas turned on, and I would have to wait anyway. He would bring that to me. Tomorrow.

I didn’t have a stove in my apartment anyway, so I figured no big deal. I had ordered one from the store and was ostensibly waiting for the gas man and the stove to arrive around the same time. On the same day? During a delivery window of 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Any time? Two days after they day they said it would, the stove arrived – when I was halfway across town. They had to wait in the hallway for me for 15 minutes – boo – but I couldn’t test it out when the technicians were there because the gas wasn’t on yet. Four days after that, I had all the copies of things I needed and the gas man came and flipped two switches and pointed out to me that the little ignite the stove switch didn’t work and I’d have to call the technicians again and then he took my 800 Dirhams and left.

*whew*

I have gas.

Pretty much everything here is like that. Getting internet, waiting for appliance and furniture deliveries, having things installed or repaired (Stop the flood in the guest bathroom from the AC condenser! Bug guy to come chase away cockroaches! Install the water filter!) But once the setting up bits are done, it’s pretty easy to live here. That’s all I’ve got for today.

The moments during which the author’s writing ambition far outweighs her capacity to write clever blog posts

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I’m here! I’m in Abu Dhabi, UAE and I’m officially an expat for at least the next three years! Today marks one month of residency and the beginning of my third week of work.

I really wanted to write leagues of details about my first few weeks, but . . . instead I’ve been busy setting up and getting to know people around here.

Concrete and green glass.

Abu Dhabi is a fascinating city. It’s located on an island and it’s very densely populated. There aren’t any “residential” areas that have been separated from “business/commercial” areas like there are in the states. Almost all of the apartment buildings are 5 – 12 stories, with a ground level that has shops, restaurants, and small businesses inside. There are a few condominium-type residential compounds scattered around, but they are much smaller than I’m used to seeing.

I have a really cute apartment. It’s near the Al Wahda Mall if you want to Google Earth my neighborhood. Tile and concrete everything, lots of IKEA furniture, and a kitchen that is waiting for me to start throwing dinner parties. Pix of that are on Facebook if you’re curious.

Hot weather is hot.

I’m working for the Higher Colleges of Technology, but will not be posting anything about work online. I’m enjoying the job and my coworkers, teaching my little heart out, and stumbling on cultural differences every 15 minutes. There are essays about cross-cultural communication in the brewing! Since I know lots of you are curious, here’s the answer to your unspoken question: I don’t have to cover my hair or wear an abaya to work, but I do dress conservatively – knees and elbows covered, high-ish necklines. Wearing long and loose clothing feels comfortable in the morning and sticky and heavy on the days I decide to walk 2 – 3 blocks to the mall at 3 in the afternoon.

Nobody ever said I was the smartest girl in the desert.

I’ve been making a list of random observations that I think would be fun to write about, but haven’t really gotten that party started. So I’ll finish up by telling you a little bit about being new.

  1. I never thought I’d have to buy another can opener.
  2. There are bidets or extra spray nozzles in all the bathrooms here. Washing up is key!
  3. All of the restaurants deliver. Dangerous. But! Making sure my order is understood over the phone is a little more challenging than I’m used to.
  4. There are still lots of little shops that specialize in specific things here. Mobile phone shops, stationery shops, chocolate shops, curtain shops, electronic shops. . . You name it, there are at least a dozen stores that sell just that. Personal service is easy to find.
  5. Communication around the city is primarily in English and Arabic. I have not needed Arabic to function, but sometimes have difficulty communicating with non-native speakers of English since the number of other native languages (Urdu, Tagalog, Hindi, etc) and the proficiency level is so varied. It’s always a situation of “I know what I’m saying and s/he knows what s/he’s saying – but somehow we’re not getting anywhere!”
  6. I’ve witnessed numerous Western/native English speaking expats do that thing where if they aren’t being understood the first time they say something, they just get louder. I get stabby when I see that. Seriously. Being loud and frustrated at someone who happens to have a different native language than I do doesn’t give me permission to be a jerk. It just means that neither of us are from here.
  7. The word patience is taking on a new meaning. More on that later.

Michele Campbell, P.O. Box 36859, Abu Dhabi UAE

One more thing. I’m working on a snail mail letter for all the friends and family who sent me their addresses over the summer. I’ve got an Abu Dhabi PO Box now! I also have a huge snail mail addiction. SO if you’d like to receive a letter from me and I don’t have your address already, send me a letter! I’ll write you back. I promise.

Missing the USA, but glad to be away from the political TV ads. I am planning to cast my absentee ballot for the November election, of course, so I’ll soon be registering with the American Embassy here. Know that I’m well, I’m having fun, and my brain is totally saturated with logistics and errands and endless phone calls to service providers as I set up. I’ll get back into a regular blog routine soon and make this a blog worth reading again.

Sending love from UAE!

xox, Voix

What to expect when you’re getting rid of all your stuff, renting out your house, living on the road for the summer, and then moving 7,000 miles away

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A list.

  1. You will be tired.
  2. Tired of being excited, tired of saying goodbye, tired of moving things, tired of people asking, “How much do you want for that?”
  3. You will answer the same 15 questions about your plans about 8,573,000,001 times. Each person who asks has no idea how many times you’ve repeated the same information, and it is important to be nice. Also, it gives you a brief understanding of what it must be like to perform Top 20 pop songs, and you feel you finally have a spiritual connection with Brittany Spears.
  4. You will sometimes nap on the couch, grateful that you asked the person who is buying it to hold off on picking it up until the end of the month and while you are in the middle of that nap, you will all of a sudden feel like you are falling, rapidly, and you’ve got to kick out your feet quickly in your dreams which actually then also happens in real life which then causes you to roll off the couch and bump your head on the coffee table which you then wish you’d ask your friend to take earlier than the end of the month even though it makes a good foot rest.
  5. Your nap will then be over.
  6. You will have a lot of paperwork to track, passport photos to gather, phone calls to make, doctor appointments to sneak in somehow, shots to avoid getting, emails to write, and people who will want to see you one last time.
  7. The number of one last time requests increases as the number of days you have diminishes. Remember to allocate friend time according to whether or not they gave a shit about the fact that you weren’t busy most Saturday nights before anyone knew you were moving.
  8. You will spend extra money filling prescriptions, buying extra contact lenses, reserving hotel rooms, buying gas to drive across the country, paying for house repairs like replacing those crumbly concrete steps that make your house look like it belongs in a different part of town, and restaurant food.
  9. Even if you think eating in restaurants all the time is not all that great once you’ve done it too much, you will not have the mental capacity to make decisions about what to buy at the grocery store because you are leaving and you don’t want to throw more things away and you have so many appointments that even looking at the dirty coffee cups in the sink makes you tired. Cooking is pretty much out of the question.
  10. You will find out who your real friends are. They help you get stuff out of the house, give you a bit of money for it, mow your lawn, give you hugs, and stop asking questions when they can tell you aren’t in the mood to answer them. They will also throw you a party that will probably make you cry.
  11. You will cry about stuff that isn’t happening right now. You will lose things. You will forget things, put things in the wrong place, show up late, and wish the hard part was over already. You know it will be, soon, and you won’t be able to wait.

Oh, Whitney.

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News of Whitney Houston’s death has exploded my Facebook and Twitter feeds over the last 12 hours. Her epic voice was part of my middle school soundtrack, and I didn’t know any girls who didn’t want to sing just like her. I know I did, much to the chagrin of our family dog – the only creature I was brave enough to let witness my high notes. Her songs moved many hearts, including mine. All I remember after that Kevin Costner movie is that Whitney fell into a bottle, turned into tabloid fodder, and just kinda disappeared.

Her struggle with addiction and domestic violence was tragic. The fact that it was so public makes it even more difficult to process. She must have been really miserable. It is sad that the world doesn’t get to hear her sing again – but then, the voice we loved has been gone for years.

So pretty.

Whitney Houston’s battle with drugs and boozes isn’t necessarily any more epic than the same struggle experienced by not-famous addicts and their families every day. Her death isn’t more tragic than the death of a guy who lost his family and friends years ago and froze to death under a bridge. Continue reading →