First Weeks

A brand new day is like a fresh sheet of paper, clean and unspoilt. I tell myself that I may be psychic and have been trying to predict the outcome of the day based on any number of irrelevant facts. While lying in bed, I envision my outfit for the day. Black dress, purple grey scarf, and sandals.

Surely, if I actually manage to follow the plan,it is going to be a great day. If I can't even follow my own stupid directions clearly, it will lead to a lousy, bad day. For some reason I've come to realize that I'm quite naughty. Purposely, I'll reject the premonition thinking I can change the outcome of the day, by doing just the opposite of what my mind has come up with.Why would I want to reject my own premonition? Well let me tell you, secretly I suspect what I've envisioned is completely wrong and will lead me to a bad day. Who wants a bad day? That's when I pick the opposite route of my prediction. On a confident day, a day where I feel like following directions, I'll follow my premonition. Today is one of those days.

I've been playing this ridiculous game in my own head for a few years and realize that it is completely irrational, but I persist.

The first day of school - we all managed to get ourselves dressed and ready on time. The morning call to prayer was heard and sounds like a low hum. Its as though all the men in the world decided to sing a song in a low melodic voice at the same time. Its such a beautiful sound. That's what happens when you wake up at 4am. You have time to enjoy the morning hours.

I'm also happy to report that jet lag works in our favor with the 12 hour difference. Being late isn't a problem. I wake up 3 or 4am. The fact that it is decently hot maybe 85 or 90 and sunny also helps.Rilee has easily adjusted to the routine. She is difficult to wake. I've taken to jumping in her bed and saying good morning in her ear using a voice that is half muffled and imitates a muppet creature. She will usually wake smiling and laughing. I really wish that I had thought of this waking method before my youngest child turned 12.

Awake, alive and dressed the trip downstairs begins. I now make a conscience effort to have actual clothes on my body before going downstairs. Tanveer and Friek will be downstairs making breakfast and cleaning . I'm greeted with coffee, warm milk, sugar, toast, pancakes, cereal, and fruit. Taylor has already eaten.

I sit at the long, long table and eat my breakfast solo. It still does not feel quite right, kinda like a bad British film where everyone has a lot of help in their homes. Usually, I'm checking out McDonalds or eating an apple and trying to fly down Paseo Del Norte, so I'm not late for my own class. I tell myself to relax and consume a decent well prepared breakfast.

Huukumdad arrives for the driving lesson. I begin yelling at the girls as we sprint around the house at warp speed trying our best to have what we need for the day. Tanveer and Friek probaby think we are crazy. "Why oh why can't we put everything together in the evening so we don't have to rush? "

The trip to school begins. First of all, everytime I get in the car I go toward the drivers side, which is the passenger side. "Oh right." We manage to make it to our proper seats in the car. The driveway is long and narrow. Taylor points out that the guards have purposely placed their vehicles alongside the house because they know what a lousy driver I am. "Thanks for the vote of confidence!"

Cruising at 30mph on the left now. I tell myself to stay in the center of the road. To use my mirrors. That taking a left is the same as taking a right. That taking a right is like taking a left and making sure you go over to the furthest lane. Motorbikes pass all over the place. Try not to hit anyone. Be aggressive. Drive slow at intersections. No lights because the power could be disconnected. This is called load shedding.

The mountains are forest and jungle green. There is lush beauty everywhere. Lots of flowers in a beautiful suburb. There are beggars. There are trucks stacked with people. There are parks. There are street signs I try to remember and figure out. I'm developing a sense of familiarity and can recognize my neighborhood.

We make it to the school gate alive and well. I realize that today will be repeated over and over for the 200 days that comprise the school year. Its only the first day of the first week. Will my premonition come to pass? I've followed and done precisely what I'd planned. Perhaps, there are no good and bad days. Maybe I should just view it all as experience.

First Day of School

Today, August 11, 2011 is my first day of school in Pakistan. Crazy, but exciting. Ten days ago, we arrived in a hot, muggy airport @ 2am with six black roller-bags. Right outside the airport, we were greeted by many staff members and a smiling superintendent. I followed a school driver who took half the bags. He seemed at least 7 feet tall like a tall willowy tree. His luggage cart seamlessly glided over uneven pavement for him. Meanwhile, my cart darted in every direction and fell into every possible pothole. He told us his name, which I immediately mispronounced because I could hear my daughters laughing at me. Oh well. We were briefed and given packets of information, which filled us in on the most important basics. We were dropped off and fell into made beds. Sleep glorious sleep.

Two weeks have passed, and we are at yet another milestone. In a few hours, the driver will arrive and we will make the trek to campus. I'm still learning how to maneuver the streets & highway of Islamabad. The school driver also functions as my driving coach. Mostly he makes sure that I don't switch back into right sided driving mode. I drive too fast and need to develop the calm, smooth patience my driver has modeled.

Each trek out is like a mini adventure to me. Alongside the surbuban streets you will see vendors selling fruit. People are dressed in delicate, loose fitting pajama pants and long drapey tops called shalwaar kamiz. They come in a dizzying array of colors and styles. On the highway, there are donkey pulled carts alongside traffic. Its amazing to see women riding side saddle on motorbikes. Some of them even wear burkas with only their eyes visible. There are colorful trucks that are painted in bright wild colors sometimes filled to the brim with people who manage to cram and stick out every which way.

The call to prayer is a hum that fills the city. It brings me a sense of peace to hear it.

Right now, the house is quiet and still. Everything is unpacked and we are settled. We have eased into having a cook, housekeeper, and gardener who do most of the day to day chores. We are still becoming acquainted, but moving here has been mostly easy. There are some things which are different of course. Power outages, warnings of terrorism, and intermittant diaherrea.
My first day outfit is pressed and awaits me. The last minute work that needs to be done will be crammed in somehow.

I'm excited nervous and ready! Hopefully, its fun.

You Left The City of Angels?

Today is our last day in the states. The day started crazy, hectic and insane.

LA, LAX & LA Canada....The original plan was to get up early, pack up the car (with luggage) and head to West LA to avoid the traffic. We planned to buy snacks, travel toothbrushes, blankets, and other highly unecessary items. We packed up a rental car and followed auntie aka"Dr. OneBite" whose been navigating the mean streets of LA for many years. The nickname is a sad reality. Dr. Onebite is truly a medical doctor. My younger daughter gave her great aunt the unfortunate nickname for a churro incident that happened at Disneyland. My aunt asked for a bite of a churro and must've been hungry and ate over half. The name sticks with her today.

As we merged into traffic, my youngest daughter came up with a fabulous suggestion. Teleportation would virtually eliminate the need for traffic and the snaggled mess of chaos known as rushhour. "Do it!" I encouraged her as I felt my foot actually cramp up from resting on the break too long. My eldest daughter chimed in on our short-cited plan and told us that we probably couldn't teleport with our belongings. A minor drawback, traveling absolutely naked. Especially in an Islamic country. Well, there had to be something.

Out of nowhere, a black Mercedes appeared. It spewed out the equivalent of a 500 pack a day cigarette habit in the form of black, billowy clouds of smoke. Once the smoke cleared, we all screamed as if we were on a Magic Mountain Roller Coaster. We had lost sight of our beloved Onebite. I forgot to merge and ended up heading toward Pasadena. That merge is exactly two curvey lanes of hell. Somehow though, I found my way to something known as the "Carpool Lane Airport". No traffic at 85mph is a good thing. .

I'm almost positive that LAX needs to be blown up and rebuilt from scratch. When you drive in the area you'll see a sign that says "free shuttle." Do not think to yourself, but its so far away. Who on earth would want to park so far? Just take it. Do not park at the gate. Trust me. After circling the lot like a hungry hawk four times, I finally was able to park. The girls were dropped at the gate and waited with the luggage. Unfortunately, parking in Air China meant walking with a few bags to Delta. How hard can that be? Somehow time morphed ahead two hours, we were severely late for our flight. My leisurly walk to my kids from Air China turned into the sprint of a lifetime, which in the end included a bus.

The kids choose to sit with their bags outside. Why on earth hadn't I called them? The Delta line looked simply like a nightmare. Someone was told to, "monitor the situation" as we attempted to check luggage. We were overweight and did a crazy clothes toss in the airport to make everything fit. We made our first flight. That was only the beginnning. The excitement continued in the Texas airport. We arrived in Texas and transferred to Qatar. Edit copy paste. Well, it was totally the same thing. Craziness.

Once we got on the actual Qatar airline flight though, it was a pleasure. It was comfy. The flight attendants gave us lots of food and icecream at 2am. They even provided us with travel socks and the world tinest toothbrush and paste. I kept it. On board they had an entertainment system called Onyx. We all plugged into Onyx and the stress melted away.

Besides eating ice-cream, I found myself chatting with my neighbor who would fall in and of consciousness during the flight. He told me his name was Max and that he was going to Bangladesh. He had moved to the States for college, but had a family of his own now. He told me he traveled back and forth to see his family every year or so. The fact that he had a southern accent from Mississippi and was truly southern inspired me. We talked about the Andy Griffith show. He said that was his ideal living scenario. He liked small town rural living! "Different than your home?," I asked.

"Yes, way different." he responded.

I closed my eyes and placed my head on the tray table. "Goodnight Max from Bangladesh."

He chuckled and said, "Goodnight" while plugged into Onyx.

We'd wake up in Doha.

The adventure had begun.