Xpat Roaming

Fall into Winter

2011-11-20T12:19:00.000-08:00

Ironing Sheets? Ironing Pajamas? It Must Be Winter
Winter is indeed here. The mountain has been rainy, cloudy, chilly, thunderous, dark, ominous, windy and almost all of these at the same time. You may remember that, since coming overseas, I haven't used a clothes dryer. So, despite racing to pull the sheets off the bed and, with the pajamas, throw them in the washing machine, hang them up, and hope, they are still quite damp at the end of the day. So, yes. I've been ironing them all to get them dry. I can resign myself to months of laundry that take 2 days or more, for each load. Besides, it's chilly and never seems to be warm as I try to do my part not to raise the fuel bill for my block. No, we do not have individual meters. All 3 apartments, no matter how many occupants, split the heating bill 3 ways. And no, they cannot change it.

Down to the Southern Border: I can see Israel from here.
Two weekends ago I was invited by a colleague to travel with him and another couple to the south. We needed special permissions to pass a military checkpoint so we could get into a protected area that is just a few miles from the border with Israel/Palestine. His parents have several olive groves down there and were our hosts for the almost two days we were there. Lebanon itself, is not very big and this area is quite small but it's amazing how many thousands of UNIFIL (UN Interim Force in Lebanon) troops can be stationed there from all over the world. Of course they were very visible, which, in a way, appears to lend an air of safety to the region. But my colleague would say, "Oops, UN, need to avoid them. They're targets." There really was no way to avoid them AND he was joking.

But I found driving around the area was not a joke, nor was it even a place for taking pictures. There are only 3 below. I will do my best to describe what I saw. First, our colleague's father was our "driver" in his very old (the oldest I've ever seen) Mercedes. We drove around, through his olive groves, and on the way to and from the border areas. He treats his old car as if it's an off-road jeep with the result that, in the rain, we got stuck as he attempted to turn around in the middle of an olive grove. We all got out an pushed the car forward, successfully if you don't count the mud baths we all took. We're too far north of the Dead Sea for it to have had any health value. We hurried back to our hosts house to get cleaned up, fresh, dry socks. The little wet wipes I always carry were completely inadequate for this mess.

Each time we got in the car, our host would yell, "To Yisrael!" and drive like a madman for the border. His son, I noticed, became very quiet in the back seat and was much more nervous and frightened than any of the rest of us, including his father but the truth is, as a boy, he and his father, watched the bombs drop around them from the roof of their house. I am sure he's never felt comfortable there since that time. It was, "No, no, we can't stop for pictures." "No, don't raise your camera." "Father, drive out of here now!" At one point, Sammy, our host, kept driving until a soldier, Lebanese, ran up to the car. Sammy told him he thought this was where his nephew, a soldier, was stationed, but I know, he thought nothing of the kind. In any case, the soldier laughed at him as we turned around, away from the high, coiled, concertina-wired fences.

Passing this or that field, our colleague would say, "Oh, you can't hike there. That field is still mined" or "that's not safe, to a certain extent." He seems to add this phrase frequently but in this situation, it seemed particularly out of place. "Unsafe, to a certain extent?" What on earth and to which extent is it safe? After awhile, the minute he'd start with the "to a certain extent" phrase, we would all, including him, laugh. He started to see how nutty the whole thing was.

And the difference between the highly manicured, irrigated fields of the settlers over the border and the erratic rows of the groves and fields on the Lebanese side was obvious and remarked on by our host. At one point, close to a village, Sammy looked over the fence and said, "Over there, they have electricity all the time, high-speed internet, whatever they want, and over here, no services." An advantage of staying in the hotel was the non-stop generators through the night. It seems to me that the area has been under a kind of siege between wars and battles throughout most of the 20th century. I hope the 21st can be quieter for everyone on both sides.

For the first time, I experienced extended, unremitting, "aggressive hospitality" as my friends here call it. Fortunately for me, I was staying in a hotel down the road so the last morning, I had breakfast there rather than spend one more meal with Sammy on my left, adding food I didn't want to my plate, every time I wasn't looking. The constant "no, thank you" in a sweetly, polite voice was exhausting. "Aggressive" indeed! I have discovered that when you take what you think you want and can manage and eat it all, that is a deadly mistake. An empty plate is an invitation for your hosts to make sure you've tried every last dish. "No" does not mean no. The kitchen has a central coal heater and the rest of the house was chilly so we all sat in the kitchen/sitting area, leaving a beautiful house untouched, hours on end, while various guests came and went. By the end of the day, I was tired--not from hiking but from sitting for several hours trying to figure out how to stay mentally alert with Arabic swirling around and nothing else to do, never mind being told all the time not to help.

We 3 guests, rode back to Balamand on the wildest bus ride--probably wilder because we were in the back, but I was really grateful to be unable to see what was going on around us. It was a military bus and the 3-hour ride cost $3.50. The men were very respectful, moving to the front of the bus to smoke, opening the windows when they did. The driver did get yelled at by the guard at one of the many military checkpoints around here. Who knows what was going on? I know he didn't see us but whatever it was made the guard really angry. Nevertheless, we were happy with the speed at which we got through Beirut traffic and back home. Very slick, I say, even though the bus didn't look too reliable when we got on. Once settled, it was easy to forget about it.

This week, I was reminded, is Thanksgiving and I'm thankful for all of you. I enjoy hearing from you and knowing just that you're "there" somewhere. I will travel to Jordan on Friday-Sunday to see some friends and former students, also friends.

Over Christmas, I will travel to Istanbul for a few days since I cannot get home and back in the time we have and justify the expense. In looking over the guidebook, I am really pleased, anticipating what I'll be able to see at last.

Love and Hugs to you all,

Geri

S. Lebanon, Israeli Border

2011-11-20T12:00:00.000-08:00

XII, Spring and Summer

2011-10-01T12:42:00.000-07:00

The school year seemed very, very long--probably because the breaks between semesters and Christmas are so short it is almost impossible to be prepared for the next term, much less rest. What brought special excitement to the Spring semester was the arrival of my second guest, Marty Townsend. She was also a guest of the university and I'm not sure they believed she would really come. Of course, it was not an easy decision on her part with Arab Spring popping up all over the Middle East. Even yet, it is hard to tell what will really happen in Syria and what that will mean for us here in Lebanon. But Marty's visit was a wonderful time for seeing the sights here again, having a close friend nearby, and great chats. I think I have already shared almost all the best photos of the university and the country, but I added many more during Marty's visit. Given the fact that her university lecture/meeting schedule seemed to grow like Topsy after she arrived, it's amazing she had any energy at all for sight-seeing. The day we attempted to drive up into the mountains was the only day we didn't accomplish all we'd planned. We had gotten a later start and, I must say, it is not easy to be a passenger. There is no way to believe that the driver can gauge the distance between herself and the edge of the road and the breathtaking drop below. I have sat in that seat! Finally, Marty said, "Is it just gorgeous landscapes and charming villages all the way up?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Let's turn around and go back." She was here more than a week and it was good to laugh and have company. We spent a couple of days in Beirut before she had to leave. Two weeks after she left, the semester was over and I went back to the States for a nice, long visit (June 21-Sept. 12th).

Below: Some new pictures, taken when Marty was visiting

Salted, vinegar carrots, street snack

Souks in Tripoli

At the entrance to the Crusader Castle

Tripoli Baby

Altar in Greek Orth. Church, Mina

These were taken on the tour Samir, a colleague, offered to give us of Tripoli. Just about every other person in Mina, a coastal city adjacent to Tripoli, greeted him personally so that we began calling him the Mayor of Mina.

Here are more pictures of the Monastery and a lovely restaurant we like because of the setting.

The Bell and The Cross, Balamand

Altar in the Monastery Church

Damascene Iconography

Chapel Altar

Monastic Apartment

Balamand Class Marty Taught

Marty, Dinner with Colleagues at Jamil's

Jamil's

Within 24 hours of arriving in the States, I had decided on and signed papers for a car, thanks to the help of a friend who really gets a kick out of shopping for cars. Can you imagine? By the time I arrived, she'd parsed the market (not so good for used cars after the "Wreck-the-guzzlers" program, or whatever it was called), had her favorite dealers and salesmen chosen, and was able to show me the best choices within 2 hours or less. And that, my friends, is how you buy a car! It has been 7 years since I've had that kind of freedom and independence and I made very good use of it, driving all over the Central States: Colorado, Kansas, Oklahoma, Missouri and back to Nebraska. What fun it was--really! A stack of good books from the library, good music, and the open road not to mention all the new things I could really appreciate: Drivers who use lanes and signals, who observe the speed limits (mostly), and who stop and start in predictable ways. Driving up and back to Steamboat in CO helped me understand the huge difference between mountain driving there and here. Oh my! No wonder my guests have been scared out of their wits. In Colorado there are four-lane interstate highways in the mountains! Amazing. My guest last year, Marlene, replied, as I tried to point out scenery, "NO! I can't look. I have to look at the road because you're not!"

But, most amazing of all was that I found all my friends, right where they were supposed to me, usually. Even getting lost is not a big deal these days with cell phones. I must say though that was a bit disconcerting to call my Tulsa friend and say I didn't know where I was and have her tell me she could see me out her front window. I think a GPS is in order for the future. After driving with friends to Chicago for a wedding, I am convinced that is better than sheets of Mapquest printouts flying all over the car. I was fascinated by it and, because they let me program it, I set it with a British accent and started calling it The Road Nanny. That has a comforting sound to it, doesn't it? I mean, how far wrong can you go when the Road Nanny is telling you what to do all the time? Perhaps I should have stapled all those Mapquest papers together in groups for the various destinations, or something. Anyway, I had a wonderful time and had the bonus of seeing even more people who happened to be around when I arrived.

Other than my Great American Road Trip, I stayed with my sister and her husband Murry, except for a few nights in Lincoln with friends. Since I don't get to church here, I went to church at least twice and sometimes three times on Sundays. (I know, there's a monastery and church part-way down the mountain but it's all in Arabic and Greek and the monks sing monophonic, off-key chants. I really don't think God is upset with me for staying home from something I can't understand or appreciate.) I wasn't really trying to do make-up work but I did enjoy playing and attending. It was also very good to be with family and friends for several weeks. Besides the lack of close friends here, I find Balamand to be very isolating in ways that Beirut is not. One does not "go for coffee" with friends, or to the mall, the movies, or anywhere on the spur of the moment and I can spend consecutive days at home, never seeing another soul, when there is no school.

I have taken up my violin again, almost every night, and so far, the neighbors have not complained. The truth is, I hope they're not hearing it! The endless repetitions, the finger-slides, the pitch-adjustments. Good grief, and the out-of-practice vibrato that is none too reliable. It can't be good.

Next week classes start in earnest. No one can really tell me why we have a bogus half-week of classes, no teaching this week except to say that 20 years ago, they did it that way for the sake of their unautomated registration. Oh well, I discovered that I have a good schedule and a private office so, for the most part, I am and will be ready to go on Monday.

I describe, in the post of August, a couple of incidents from last spring that are unique to this culture.

Blessings and Hugs to all,

Geri

XI, A Long Time

2011-08-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

It has been a long time, it seems, since I updated this blog. Funny how time slips away--especially for those things we love, like writing, for example.

A Happy Accident
I had checked the rear-view mirrors and even looked back. Then I carefully put the car in reverse and slowly pulled out of the parking space in front of Bou Khalil, the little shopping center/grocery store...Crunch! Not loudly, nor even very suddenly. Just, Crunch! I quickly looked back and there was a lady standing by her car with several other passengers, in and out of the car. I immediately jumped out of the car and ran over to her, apologizing profusely. It didn't matter that she pulled up into the pickup lane, right behind me when my back up lights must have been on. I did all the American things: Suggest calling the police--She was appalled. Then I suggested I'd call my insurance company--No, that wasn't any good either. Finally, I offered to pay for the ding, cash. She was shocked. At last, I asked for her name and address and she gave me her business card. All the while she was smiling and begging me not to be upset about hitting her. That seemed a bit backwards but I drove off, trying to think about how to thank her, at the very least, for being so kind, so generous.

A couple of days later, my friends and I ended up having a celebration at a restaurant I know people really like here, Punto Alto, Italian, on a mountain with big windows overlooking the sea so I purchased a gift certificate, wrote a note, and started to address an envelope when I noticed that her card only showed the business address of a shipping company in Beirut. I decided to let her know I was trying to mail something to her, sending her an email; and then I waited a few days. I was beginning to give up when the phone rang one evening. It was Natalia, the lady said, the one you hit in Bou Khalil, she added. Oh yes! Of course I remembered. Instead of giving me an address she wanted to meet me for coffee. She explained that I was a guest in their country and she wanted to be friends.

One morning over a break in classes, we met. She really did need a friend and told me her story. Only recently separated, she was a single mother trying to manage on her own. It isn't easy. Wages are low, costs are high. Over and over I was thanked (yes, thanked) for meeting her. When she read the note and saw the gift certificate she almost cried and wanted me to use it with her.

Another accident, sans car, on a sidewalk in Beirut brought this experience home once more. I had taken a visiting university guest and close friend, Marty Townsend, to Beirut. As some of you know, the sidewalks in this part of the world are very uneven. I tripped falling down in front of a sidewalk cafe. Before I could get all the way up, a chair was brought over, a cold glass of water, wet wipes, tissues, with apologies. People are generally extremely polite. Marty said that would never have happened in the States.

Layover Prague

2011-05-03T08:34:00.000-07:00

X.5

2011-04-01T05:54:00.000-07:00

April 1, Snakes in the Grass
This is not a joke....

I was delighted to see that all the old, dead grass and weeds and shrubs were being uprooted. True, the diesel engine of the tiller is annoying but the apparent promise of what would be planted there later was exciting to contemplate.

Today, I was disappointed and disgusted to discover that this is a snake control tactic. Large, harmless (huh?--no such thing!) snakes hide in the grass and shrubbery so groundskeepers go through this process every year, never planting anything in the overturned soil.

Hugs.

Part X: Soul Food & Shakespeare Writes Greek

2011-03-25T06:21:00.000-07:00

A Concert--Real Soul Food!

Tonight we had the Syrian Chorale on campus. I was in the mood for choral music. It felt like a choral music night and for some reason I do not know, there are no classes tomorrow--a national holiday? I was handed a program, all in Arabic. When I asked, I was told the songs were all Arabic songs anyway. Oh well, I thought, I've never heard traditional Arabic songs sung by a choir. I also thought that I might leave at intermission but there was no intermission and I wouldn't have wanted to leave.

What a choir! They were excellent, mostly acapella, with a conga drum and tambourine, they sang all sorts of things including liturgical, opera, Orff ("La Fortuna" from Carmina Burana), Arabic songs, of course, a wide variety. One and a half hours passed so quickly! I was entranced. Naturally, the better the group, the scarcer the chances of finding recordings. Example: One miserable pianist we had on campus last fall had a full table of CDs to sell, I saw as I scrambled out during intermission! I hope I will be able to find this group on iTunes. Their conductor was wonderful too, of course.

About Shakespeare

We've had a few problems in my English Majors class, Renaissance-Romantic lit survey. Well, perhaps I should say I've had problems. My first mistake was attempting to find affordable and reliable texts with good annotations. Impossible! My second mistake was in assuming English majors were ready for Elizabethan, and earlier, English. Apparently some students have already been to the chair's office to tell her that this class is, without a doubt, the hardest class they will ever take in their entire lives! The funny thing is that she sent them to the English Learning Center (ELC), not knowing what their teacher was up to. Good luck with that, I say. When she discovered what was going on, she was amused to think that the ELC could help and tried to imagine what they would do if the student showed up. So, I have since been advised that students need modern-day translations. Translations? for English? But of course! English is often their 3rd language. Then, in one class a student asked if Shakespeare was from Europe "somewhere." Finally, in my last class two students told me that Shakespeare wrote Greek! I was gullible enough to believe they'd gotten their hands on a strange translation but no, it was Elizabethan English and just as inscrutable as any Greek translation, as far as they are concerned. We did watch a filmed version together which helped but I thought, even then, that there were all sorts of innuendos and references being missed. We will go back through the text carefully next class. Poor students. Poorer me. This is definitely a case of misjudging your audience--completely.

A Correction
I was conducting a workshop for faculty on the Moodle--web-based Course management system. Things did not go well, to put it mildly. We kept getting blocked attempting to make various functions work. Afterwards, commiserating with the IT lab person, he told something that was seemingly unrelated. Here is what E. said: The picture, below, is a bell--the one we hear frequently throughout the day, echoing over the Balamand mountain, marking the hours of prayers for the monastery. It is not the ancient idea of a swing! He said that after he received my first email, he was curious about me and looked over my blog. Thank you E. for clearing up this mystery!

Parking Lines
...merely suggestions that this is a parking lot. The lines have little to do with car placement. As a matter of fact, sometimes the lines are painted to make it impossible to use them--as a kind challenge to someone like me who thinks she knows their purpose. Today I found some that were diagonal followed by vertical ones. Until we all drive triangle-shaped cars, I can't imagine how those are to be used.

Speed Limits
I have decided that these must be warning speeds, i.e. if you drive that speed you will be annihilated by the cars behind you who are going some 20+ km per hour faster. I feel much better now that I understand the purpose of these signs. After all, the purpose of government and laws is to create safety for citizens. Good!

Hugs to all!
Geri

2011-02-19 Saturday Morning Walk, The other Side of the Mountain

2011-02-19T01:12:00.000-08:00

My Room(s) with Views

2011-02-13T02:23:00.000-08:00

Lebanon news - NOW Lebanon

2011-01-26T06:27:00.000-08:00

Lebanon news - NOW Lebanon

Western Analysis from the Washington Post

2011-01-25T13:09:00.001-08:00

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/right-turn/2011/01/another_middle_east_debacle_le.html

Part IX: Confined to Quarters

2011-01-25T02:41:00.000-08:00

This is a brief update since some of you might think, erroneously, of course, that I know anything at all about what is going on in Lebanese politics these days. The more I hear, the less I know! The situation is so complex and when I think I understand, I get completely conflicting information from someone else.

But because I have heard it twice, from completely different sources, I will tell you: I have been advised not to leave campus. Up here, on the Balamand mountain, we are safe but apparently, down in Tripoli, things are not very happy. Hezbollah has proposed the new prime minister who is not everyone's favorite (big surprise) and so now people are trying to stay quietly out of the way and out of trouble, well at least some of us are!

It's actually good news, I think, that there is no one person telling the same story. When that happens it will be all good or all bad and I don't expect things to get "all bad."

Tuesday, "A Day of Rage"
Some nut case in this political upheaval declared today "A Day of Rage," which is just what we need right now--more cause to riot, burn, and shoot! Now I am having my own personal day of rage that someone in power, with a loud voice could be so very irresponsible. And, not surprisingly, people have responded appropriately--full of rage.

Our ranks on campus were very thin today, both in the faculty offices and in the classrooms. In my last class, 4 in attendance, a student received a call which, under the circumstances, I allowed him to leave the room to take. It turns out that there are no buses or taxis going down into Tripoli, the area of greatest unrest at the moment, and he lives off-campus. When I asked him if he had a friend in the dorms he said, "I will manage. I'm Lebanese. We always manage." We were told by administration this morning not to mark anyone absent, keep things light and easy. That was easy to do--there was hardly anyone in class.

Twitter
Those of you who laugh at my connectedness will not be surprised to know that I keep Twitter hashtag #Lebanon on my screen so I know fairly well what is going on moment by moment, even if I don't understand the politics. Given the fact that the campus is so very quiet, the news and tweets are the only indication, well, not the only indication of trouble. There are little groups of teachers talking quietly with each other too. One Twitter account I'm following is the NOW Lebanon blog, here: NOW Lebanon Bloggers
They post pictures, video, and text.

Do not worry for me. I am quite safe. We have a Fulbright family here and they have not been told anything by the embassy. Furthermore, they have promised not to leave me, whatever they do.

Love and Hugs,
Geri

Part VIII: Better the Devil you know....

2011-01-15T09:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Family and Friends:

The Classroom

The cryptic title of this edition refers to the numbers of students who are contacting me about what I am teaching next semester. I am not deluded about what this means because I seriously doubt they understand the meaning of the %s of their online grades. If they did, they wouldn't be asking about my courses next semester. But it mean that they want, at all costs, to avoid getting into my sections by mistake! That is a much more plausible reason for their query. On the other hand, if the opposite is the case then it is true that they prefer "the devil they know to the hell they don't." Very puzzling.

Today, and all this week, students have been presenting their work on NGOs they formed to deal with national issues. Of course, every time someone mentions asking a Minister of This or That to participate, or involving the government to help them with an issue, there is laughter because, of course, there is no government at the moment. (More on that later.)

Most of the time, students talk about how ineffective the government is and how little they can do. When they talked about road safety this week they said that no one believed there was a new radar system covering the roads and highways of the country, even though the public information said there was. Citizens took it into their own hands to find out just what was was going on. Sure enough, there are only two radar traps in the whole country. Consequently, my students were quite surprised to discover that I hadn't been in an accident yet. So am I! Accidents are standard but no one seems to relate it to driving habits or speed. Taking some colleagues to a restaurant via the one good highway here I was told to quit using my lane changer and turn indicators so much--it was confusing the other drivers!

Christmas Break

I was given an extra week to stay in the States and took full advantage of it, enjoying playing 5 services, being with and cooking for my family (my sister gets credit for finishing the the recipes I started before rushing off to rehearsals!), drinking more Barista's, Starbucks, and Scooter's coffee than anyone has a right to, and in general spending a lovely time with so many while regretting those I missed seeing. Truly, everyone was so gracious, squeezing me into and between family schedules, already packed with holiday activities. I renewed some long-standing Christmas traditions with my friends and family that I've missed for the past 6 years. In other words, I'm so glad I went back this year. What a true delight it was--every minute of it, until I began to think about my trip back to Lebanon.

Re-entry

At first, it was pretty rough. My allergies to whatever (the mold?) I found here in September, returned in full force. The medication, combined with some jet lag, keep me falling over in a heap on the bed beside my desk (that is NOT a good place for a bed!). Furthermore, my online grading was not working in the States so I have been tied to my computer since arriving in hopes that I could get the most critical grades posted before Friday, drop day. I find it strange, to say the least, that with only 2 weeks left in the semester, students still have the privilege of dropping without penalty. I could have told them weeks ago they weren't going to make it, and saved us both a great deal of trouble. But now, I'm getting frantic emails about why they cannot drop the course or why they haven't been able to get online to see their grades or about the scourge that must have hit all the relatives of all the students here--a strange sort of terrible disease putting them and all their families in the hospitals. I'm sure the papers are filled with reports of this plague if only I had studied my Arabic more diligently and could read them.

Based on what I have heard from other faculty, I might be hauled into an admin's office to answer for my extreme negligence in babysitting these children through their assignments, forgetting to call them each night to remind them of assignments and exams, and failing to bring them printouts of the online grades that have been posted each week since the beginning of the semester. It will be easy to demonstrate what has (not) happened and why the students are in trouble but really, what a headache and, from what I've heard, administration tends to take sides with the "customer." Oh goody! On the other hand, it will be quite difficult to prove that at least once every other class the online web pages were mentioned, the IT help desk was explained, and the importance of both of those things stressed.

A Trip to Baalbek

Several weeks ago I went with friends on a couple of overnights out of town in the Bekaa Valley, yes, that one. Of course the expected evidence of Hezbollah was there but I only noticed the souvenir T-shirts in Hezbollah Yellow that just about everyone in the Tourist Traps was trying to sell. What we went to see were the amazing Roman ruins. Baalbek is one of the best preserved Roman complexes I've ever seen. I have some pictures posted here:

Baalbek Trip

The Recent News
Imagine teaching or living in a place where the young people joke that "there will be war tomorrow, Miss." No, there won't. The fact that people are very nervous is actually a very good sign. Their fear of a repeat of the wars and rebellions in the past decade gives them a measure of care about what they say and do that might spark an uprising or demonstrations. If anything does happen as a result of the collapse of the government this week, it will happen in the south, in and around Beirut. I have always been amazed at how localized these things can be. 5 years ago, living in Amman, bombs were set off downtown. I heard about it first from concerned former students in the States. I had no idea until it came on the English news--the BBC, quite a bit later. Now, up here on the Balamand mountain, it's hard to believe that "there are tensions in Beirut." I can assure you I am very safe, have part ownership in a car, have friends here on a Fulbright, and will know before anyone else if it's time to leave. In the meantime, I have told my students that if there is war their classes will continue as before, online. That's pure fiction of course. The first thing I'll do is quit marking papers and pack. The reality is that their infrastructure will not support the internet during a war.

All the best until next time!
Love and hugs,
Geri

Part VII, Eid Al Adha Break, A Half-Term Assessment

2010-11-20T02:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Family and Friends:

The Best News
This week the man in Personnel in charge of our visas arrived in my office--perhaps Monday or Tuesday--with my resident card and passport. That allows me to leave the country and I will. I will come to Nebraska for Christmas, Dec. 23rd-Jan. 3rd. It's not long but as pleased as I am, I guess it must be long enough!

I know it's been awhile since I updated this blog and it's taken me awhile to try to figure out what I would like to say here about my experiences. I have heard it said that failure to meet expectations can result in depression. I cannot speak for all my colleagues here but amongst the expats and Westernized Lebanese there do seem to be many who have feelings of hopelessness and depression that appear to me to be chronic. Of course, I'm always intrigued by the "why" of something but there could be so many answers to the question of why my colleagues, and I at times, are depressed.

Professional Life

The students are probably the most discouraging aspect of professional life here. What I'm about to say will sound like overgeneralizing and hyper-critical. Sadly, it's just the truth for 80% of the students in this school. They are not serious about their studies, they are rude, immature, and difficult. The 20% who do care get short-changed because class management issues take up so much time and energy. I've resorted to sending people out of class. I have heard of teachers who've left their classes but I refuse to leave my own class! I got the Skype address of the father of one particularly lost young man who cannot seem to get his act together for more than 2 minutes at a time. They are not all spoiled, rich kids but a great many are and perhaps an equal number at least have been raised by nannies. The profs sit around and discuss this problem, what they do in class, and try to come up with reasons for it. No one has a definitive answer but I can tell you this: This would doubtless be the first time in my career that I would be described as an Old Battle-axe if they knew the words.

A Visit From Marlene

I was so delighted when Marlene, the Academic VP and Acting President at LCC came over her fall break for a visit. From my standpoint, it was just about perfect. I taught every morning and we went sight-seeing every afternoon but one. Because I'm sharing a car with the Leighs, I have mentioned them before (Americans, U Wisconsin, 1-year appointment), I was able to pick Marlene up in Beirut from the airport and drive up to Mt. Lebanon to see the Cedars of Lebanon, among other things. Lebanon is a small country so, we were able to see much of it. We did not venture into the famed Bekaa Valley nor south of Beirut, two places not considered entirely safe. Her last weekend we went to Beirut and walked all over the downtown area seeing the Grand Mosque, which is incredibly beautiful, a Maronite Cathedral, the Martyr's Square, and the famous American University of Beirut. , It was just so good to have a friend here and have the chance to process, with someone who knows higher ed and who knows me some of my observations. She was asked to speak to faculty, meet the Chair, meet the Dean and talk to the MA TESOL faculty which she did on Tuesday. I have heard great comments since of her talk. Perhaps there are a few who were not so depressed for a day or two. I have a few pictures here: Lebanon, October 2010

The Oven Blows Up, Part II
For those folks who missed Part I, see Jordan Journals; yes, Part I was also in the Middle East. From the first time I tried to use the oven, I had told the Housing people that it did not work well. The obvious issues are that you have to have the flame on top, as in broiling, or on the bottom but never both for all-over even heat. Furthermore, the dial has increments of High or Low,that is all and Off, I thought. I bought a counter-top oven/toaster and so haven't used the gas oven since the first time, when I burned the bottom of a pizza crust. Today, I thought I'd get up my courage and turn on the oven, using the top flame for a few minutes and then the bottom flame to finish the baking. I turned off the gas to the broiler and tried to light the bottom flame. I couldn't. Finally, I gave up, turned the gas off and closed the door, deciding to use the broiler flame and finish as well as I could. I lit a match and leaned over to open the oven door and turn the gas back on. I never got that far because as soon as I opened the oven door a sudden"whoosh" of flame blew out of the oven, burning my left arm and singing my hair and eyebrows. It wasn't worse because I pulled back quickly, remembering what had happened 5 or so years ago in Jordan. I turned the gas off on the cylinder and showered to get rid of all the burned hair., gathering up my courage to look in the mirror. It's not as bad as it sounds. I can show up to class, I can go out in public.

Eid
Well, it's Eid again, another holiday. At the beginning of the week, Monday-Wednesday, I drove to The Bekaa Valley to see Baalbek, Ancient Ruins, Anjaar, and the Ksara Winery. The ruins were amazing. I have pictures and will share them here soon. I am off until Tuesday of next week and am spending the time marking and looking at possible positions for next year.

Love and hugs,

Geri

Part VI.5, Seeking advice

2010-10-06T19:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Family and Friends:

This is not a complete post but rather a health concern. Shortly after arrival, I developed itchy welts. They were especially bad in the morning so I first eliminated spiders and bedbugs. I cleaned as only I know how, lots of bleach, cleaning soap, and multiple times. Things have only gotten worse. I have been to the on-campus doctor 3 times, am taking anti-allergy meds, all to no avail. I keep my apartment windows shut all the time because of the wind and dust.

I have since discovered that others have had trouble in this apartment too, with different consequences, but their complaints about the situation have gone unheeded. Later today I will have more lab tests and none too soon, it seems. I awoke this morning at 3:30 in such discomfort I got up thinking, "What if it's laundry soap or new softener?" I have used Persil and this softener before but...well, who knows? And that's a serious question. If anyone has an idea, I'd love to hear it. In addition to the discomfort, I see my eyes swelling shut this morning, a sure sign that whatever it is, is not going away on it's own.

I have just completed the newest post on teaching, Part VI, below.

Hugs to all!

Geri

Part VI, The Academic Year Begins, (sort of)

2010-10-06T18:57:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

These are interesting times--new systems, new rules, new MOs and, at this point, not all of them make sense. I expect to come to an understanding of why things are done in certain ways in the fullness of time. Patience, in great, huge bucket loads is what I need now! One thing is certain--of all the frustrations, the things broken, dysfunctional, and needing attention, none is more important than making absolutely sure that my teaching year is successful. At the moment, I do not feel as though I have complete control over whether or not that will happen. I have three writing classes, all 3 of which have ballooned to 3 more than the 15-optimal class-size goal. The methodology here is not one I have used or experienced before so I am waiting to see what happens and how much leeway I might have to individualize my sections. As you've guessed, these are multi-section courses in the general ed requirements for students. The difference here is that there is a course coordinator who provides the syllabus for everyone else. I am having a hard time with that on several levels but I will wait and see.

This week, today actually, classes started but, since attendance doesn't count this week, students can hardly be blamed for staying away. Nonetheless, I began with a brief introduction and a short writing exercise for the several who did come. As I was telling one of my colleagues, if I plan something for 4, it is important enough to include the whole class. There is something askew here but it seems that registration is usually messy and complicated and that firm class lists do not come out for another 2 weeks. UGH. I hate listening to the sound of my voice as it takes on a tired tone after multiple repetitions of details I find boring in the first telling.

The first classroom was absolutely filthy and for those of you who know me, should know that is not picky-Geri talking. I'm not the only one wondering what the cleaning crew did (not do!) during the break. Further, I'm going to write a polite little note on the bottom of the board: Please clean the board before leaving the classroom. Never mind that I did not want to use the board, the many equations and scribblings were distracting and only added to the sense of untidiness and disarray. Anyway, how could I have written anything? There were no whiteboard markers in or on my desk and certainly none in the classroom. The second classroom was at the other end of the campus, partway up the steepest part of the mountain in what used to the a Girl's Dorm. (Yes, uni-dorms are still important here.) When I arrived, the converted dorm room was stuffed with 11 student desk/chairs and only by blocking a 3-foot square in the middle of the room could another be added. 4 showed up but there will be 18. Clearly this will have to be changed even though this room was relatively clean, breezy, and pleasant, with 4 + me, that is. In addition, I had told the chair that after those classes, W/F, I would continue up the mountain to my apartment rather than walk all the way back down to my office. She saw the sense in that. (Later: Those classes have been moved to an unfinished Medical Sciences building, right next door to my office. That is good. However, there is cement dust everywhere and I'm beginning to wonder if that is the source of the severe allergy attack I am enduring because the cement factories on the coast keep cement dust in the air most of the time.)

The schedule itself is not bad a long as I reconcile myself to the Communications course that runs everyday at 9:30 am: Mondays I finish at 10:30 and every other day at 12:30 except for meetings and a few office hours. My office mate and I are working out who will see students and when. We sit a mere 2 feet from each other. Thank goodness for her sense of humor. She has been here for several years and therefore has mostly consumed the available shelf, cabinet space, leaving me 2 shelves at my elbow. She told me that if I don't put my own things on those 2 shelves, she'll take those over as well!) It is cramped, the blinds are broken and dirty, and the windows...oh my, the windows--have seen neither soap nor squeegee in all 20 years since they were hung. As a matter of fact, the building needs basic upkeep and maintenance. I get the sense that the building projects--huge new medical school, new library, new hospital, are sapping all the available resources. The good thing is that when the medical building is complete (Jan. 2011, they say), we will have more office and classroom space. So, perhaps some of this is temporary. I have heard that the school keeps growing, quickly, and that while they attempt to keep up with hiring faculty, support services, admin, staff of all kinds, have not kept pace with the need. Enrollment is over 4000 now. They need to update their website.

On the other hand, the saving grace of the Middle Eastern experience are it's people. The students are polite, gracious, and friendly as well as charming. They smile easily and are cooperative, just as students did in Nebraska, Jordan, Bahrain, and Lithuania. I knew I would feel much better as soon as I could meet some students. I do. (That probably answers the question I asked in a previous blog--about losing one's identity as a teacher without students around. I'm supposed to be a teacher but it's impossible to believe that without students.) The problem with "polite" is that each student feels it is necessary to knock (on the open door) and say, "Good Morning" as they enter, even when I'm in mid-sentence and they are late. After grinding my teeth on that I finally announced, "Please, do your best to sneak into class, especially when you're late. Do as little as possible to be noticed." Of course, mid-sentence a student announced her arrival, provoking class laughter.

I am going to continue with today's date and a Part VI.5, above.

Part V, Idiosyncracies: Things you wouldn't expect

2010-09-16T13:50:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

Though it is not easy to keep up with the demand for "more," in this case, unlike the master in Oliver Twist's orphanage, "More, please!" will be rewarded.

When you travel, if you do not think about recording some of the things that, at first impression, are different when they are first impressions, it is easy to forget them and to begin to accept them. Of course, eventually, I must accept them all. I cannot change much about the way life works in Lebanon. People are amazingly versatile and adaptable, as we saw, over and over during the natural disasters we've watched in Haiti, Chile, Pakistan to name only 3. Of course, I am not classifying any of this as a "disaster" really, though it has seemed so at times.

Electricity

I read before I came that the electrical grid here was very unstable. That's not true! It's very stable. It goes off on intermittently but very regularly. Some say you can set your watch by it. In other words, there is not enough electricity to go around so the company has planned blackouts for 3 hours at various times during the day throughout the country, region by region. I remembered about this my first night when the lights and everything went off at midnight and then came back on a minute later because of the university generators. So, what folks are not paying in electricity, they are paying in diesel to run their generators. Most hotels, malls, public buildings and many apartment complexes and private homes have generators that kick on when the power dies. My first day, I found myself in a bookstore, looking at the English book collection when the lights went off. No one panics; instead, everyone continues to shop as best they can in the dark. I couldn't read titles until the lights came back on. It was merely a temporary nuisance in a mall with a generator. This electrical issue is a result of the last war when all the power plants were bombed, 2006. The country is struggling to get everything working again, years later. This habitual loss of power makes me think about things I wouldn't otherwise:

Caught in the spice aisle of the supermarket, I thought, "This is a great place to be right now, where the print is tiniest and all in Arabic or French." There was no way to continue until the lights came on several minutes later.
There is no point in digital clocks. The one on the microwave rarely gets beyond 9:30 before beginning over again at 1:30. I've been using my cell phone for an alarm clock.
What is the cost of diesel compared with electrical units?

Lebanese Arabic

CNN, just last night, had this topic featured on their "Connect The World" program, Becky Anderson. They are discussing languages that are being lost with this one, Lebanese Arabic, featured as one of them. The reason this is unique in the Arab world is because of the cosmopolitan nature of the country, Beirut especially. Many people, probably a majority are bilingual or trilingual and many parents speak to their children in French. The standard greetings and polite exchanges are often in English, "Hello, Hi" rather than "Marhaba" or "Sabachel Kheir." "Merci" rather than "Shukrahn." I had read this before coming--that the French and English borrowings were now a standard part of everyone's language but I couldn't have imagined the extent to which this was true. It is strange to hear Arabic and French mixed together. I suppose I'll get used to it and then accept it, and then wonder why my friends in Jordan don't sound the same! The polyglot spaghetti that inhabits my brain is only going to get worse, I fear. Nevertheless, I will study Arabic again because Tripoli, the next closest city is more Arab than anything else and though many signs are written in English and French, in this part of Lebanon a great many are not.

Hot Water

I was without hot water in the apartment for about 4-5 days. No one told me that there was a special technique for getting hot water until the Facilities Manager came by to go through the apartment and address my questions. He opened the fuse box and there, clearly labeled, was the word "Boiler." 20 minutes or more before you need it, you flip the switch, use it, and then remember to turn it off because it uses (gas? electricity? some unnamed energy?) a great deal of energy to keep it hot. Then, I remembered the Jordan hot water drill. The difference this time is that "on" and "off" are clearly labeled. In Jordan there was a 2-switch process and I never, ever figured out. I always thought it was kind of like magic to have hot water at all!

The Oven

The stove is a gas stove, needing matches for each time you light the oven. The burners have an ignition spark that lights the gas. I have lit the oven. That is not the problem. The issue is this: There are no temperature numbers nor is there a setting that uses even heat, top and bottom at the same time. The oven is either high, low, on, off, top to broil, or bottom. That is all. I have eaten dried chicken (that wasn't supposed to be dry), and baked a pizza crust for a family who is still stuck in a hotel for the next 2 more weeks, that was not done on top but starting to burn on the bottom. I found a counter-top oven in my travels with my friend for $50 but I am going to keep trying to figure this oven out. I do think souffle is definitely not on any menu anytime soon. So far it hasn't singed my hair off or blown up like the oven in Jordan did.

My office

Ugh! It is half of a tiny, claustrophobic, rather untidy and seemingly dingy room. I do not plan to spend much time in it--just what's required. Perhaps I will find a quiet, peaceful place to work and meet students, a recommendation from a friend who'd resolved her own office issues that way. Living on campus will be a huge benefit in this case. The steep side of the mountain that I will climb at least once a day will be good, aerobic exercise and make my sisters happy! Today I was almost wheezing as I went up. It was humid, warm, and the climb tough. However, it is not long, so that's good.

Notes about several things

My shipping has arrived and I did not think it was very expensive--certainly not as expensive, including the transportation here, as the nightmares I was having about it that were waking me up or keeping me awake.
I still do not have a syllabus for either class I will teach. A team meeting for one of the classes will be next Wednesday and the other, in a week, the Friday before classes start. Lord, give me patience!
The wonderful women I met a week ago now have continued to help. One of them, after driving me around for several hours to see televisions and irons, gave me a tv they were no longer using which is just fine and is now connected to even more channels in English than I had before. She also gave me a medium-sized travel iron that, with steam, does a fine job. This is good because the washing machine (no, this one does not dance like the one in Jordan did) has a special spin cycle that is particularly good at wrinkling clothes. I am not sure what causes this but there is not one thing, other than towels (yes, I have those too), and underwear that doesn't need ironing.
Facebook and Twitter--Facebook is blocked during school hours, 8-5; Twitter is blocked completely. Skype is also blocked for everyone unless you write a letter requesting the service and stating the reasons for needing it. Then, it is usually limited to after-school hours but I requested it 24/7 and they've honored that. I have also noticed that some live-stream radio is impossible at any time. However, I can get PRN, NET, and KQED among others so I am not missing anything. Fortunately, the blog still works.

Hugs all around!

Geri

First Views of Beirut

2010-09-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

Part IV: Multiple Problems: A few Solutions

2010-09-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning, as promised the Chair picked me up and we drove around the mountainous campus. What you notice first of all, is that the ground is rock and dirt--lots of rock. What I noticed, when the sun was up, was that my apartment did have a view of the Mediterranean...when you were standing up and could see over the cars in the parking lot. Furthermore, being on the ground floor meant that the constant breeze bringing in the dirt and dust and traffic in and out would become part of my living space if I was not careful. I decided that the kitchen curtains could be open only when I was completely ready for the day and that the patio curtains probably never would, nor would I open any of the windows. As you saw from my pictures, the "garden" area is not planted and the dirt rides on the breeze all the time. It would not be a problem in one of the upper apartments, I think. The other issue is that multiple families of children use the parking lot to play in so, with school still out, it can be noisy. Most of these children are precocious and gregarious. When they see you, they will say, "Hi! Where are you going?" and "Are you coming to visit us?" The Dean of Business lives right above me and has 5 or 6 children. He's already asked if I babysit!

After driving around, the chair parked and we went into the building for the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences and up to her office. If you remember and were reading back then, like Jordan, there is someone usually available to make tea and coffee so the chair ordered Turkish coffee and we sat in her office to chat and to wait for the Dean to have a minute to meet. When the Dean called the chair into his office, she offered to let me use her computer to check on and send an email to my friends and family. I did that as quickly as I could, begging them to pass the word on to whomever I'd left off the list. I noticed a number of posters advertising performances of oratorios, cantatas, and other music with the Chair as the main soprano. Then my eyes were drawn to a whole bookshelf loaded floor to ceiling with CDs, music texts and scores. Clearly, that was going to be a first question when she returned.

I think we've hit it off right away. For one thing, she has an MM in vocal music and then switched to Education, while I switched to Literature. She's hoping we can get some musical events going. There isn't a music department but there is great interest, as there was at LCC, proving that the Arts are a necessary part of one's life if not one's formal education. But I'm not a choral conductor so I'm not sure what will happen. Nevertheless, finding a fellow musician is a huge plus. The dean is an Arab and said all the right things about being pleased to have me aboard, hoping that I will be happy, hoping that I will stay, looking forward to my contributions, etc. Then he said, "I wish you hadn't shipped anything but, well, it's too late now!" That definitely put a damper on things. Oh my! Later, I clarified with the Chair that I do not own a home in Lithuania from which I'd just traveled. They were under the impression that I'd left from the US and had made choices about what to bring. The chair said that I was not the only one to ship things, that it would all be worked out eventually, but that there was a mile of red tape between me and my belongings. The man who took my passport to get things finished ended up with a family crisis so now I have neither things nor passport. The Dean went on to say that personal safety is not an issue here. People are generally very honest, generous, hospitable, and helpful. So true! As far as national safety? The chair said that they are fairly oblivious up here about things that happen in the south and off the mountain. I responded that I thought the endurance of a 12th-Century monastery was a very good sign.

After that we went to IT to try to get the internet connected at home. They said they couldn't do it that day but would come first thing in the morning to do it on Friday, the next day Despite my frustration, there was nothing more to do or say about that so we left the campus so I could pick up some necessities--towels, food, a pan, a couple of utensils, a lamp, an extension cord and most critical of all--some hair gel. I'd dumped absolutely all my hair products to save on weight without realizing it so here I was, meeting folks for the very first time with the wildest, craziest hair possible. Really! I don't think I've ever allowed anyone, even on a skype call, to see me this way but I could hardly sit at home waiting for hair gel to drop into my lap before going out. May I never do that again!

We went to Bou Khalil, a mini mall on the outskirts of Tripoli. Had we not driven to the center of town first I would not have known what kind of miracle it was that we had arrived safely without a scratch on the car or ourselves. Though the dean's advice for me included encouragement to purchase a car, I am less than enthusiastic about it. I'm not sure I could survive the stress. I think it was much better in the dark, the night before when I couldn't see as much. In the bookstore, I found a number of bestsellers in English but since I don't usually read the NY Times Top Ten I took the recommendation of the chair and we left another new prof up there, still perusing the shelves to go downstairs to the supermarket. I had been looking forward to labneh (yogurt the consistency of heavy sour cream, but healthier) ever since I left Jordan so, after the other things I mentioned, I picked up labneh, hummus, and flat bread as well as some vegetables, couscous, and pasta, and chicken. In the midst of all this, the professor from the bookstore came down and finding me, handed my debit card to me. It seems it fell out of my wallet in the bookstore and the mall manager, hearing his English called, "Geri Henderson?" Jeff replied, "No, but I know her." Honesty? Indeed, twice proven when a cab driver would not take the amount I believed he'd said, instead, returning change to me for the bill I'd given him.

To answer questions you've asked:
The HR director who'd promised me internet on arrival, a balcony, 2 bedrooms, etc. is no longer here. Furthermore, none of what he promised or said was passed on to anyone so that when the requests for on-campus housing poured in, families who absolutely needed the beds were assigned those apartments. I have been promised that as soon as something else is available, I will be given priority. Plans are to have new faculty housing built in the coming year. They see this as an important recruitment/retention tool and know it's important. In the meantime, I will stay here. I have plans to add a futon in the study and give guests the master suite when they come--as I am planning that they will! Pay attention to this, one and all!

To cover, briefly, the issues in Part III:
I met some amazing people who live in the town next door to the university as a result of wandering through the monastery and meeting a daughter-in-law who was visiting. She was gracious enough to offer to show me a bit of the area around the university. Meeting her family, I was invited to spend two days in the company of women who were intelligent, strong, educated, and members of the Lebanese Orthodox society: One, a professor of Arabic at the Lebanese American University and the other, a member of Lebanon's Supreme court. Another, a sister-in-law who lives in the village has also taught. All spoke English well but the judge told me, "You understand French and enough Arabic and I am tired so I will use them all!" She has offered to take me to an electronics store on Monday in Tripoli. I need to price TVs, an iron (which I need more than a TV), and another extension cord. I am hoping that the inexpensive lamps I ordered will have arrived by then as well.

Perhaps these women will become friends or perhaps they have been angels, dropped into my week to help save my mind and keep a space on the planet open for me.

Hugs to all of you! I have appreciated your comments.

Love,

Geri

Part III, No Man's Land (No Person's Land)

2010-09-10T12:38:00.000-07:00

I am caught in a "wrinkle in time" that has placed me between one thing and another, depriving me of structure, teaching, students, and people. It is a very strange place in which to find oneself. I'm an introvert and that's really no secret but hours and hours, days really, of solitude have forced me into a place of self-reliance, emotionally, that I never expected to be. It is no one's fault that I had to leave Lithuania, for several reasons, on September 1st, almost a month before classes start in Lebanon. What is more, professors here are gone on holiday, the few weeks they have after the summer session and before the fall session begins.

The difference between what I left in Lithuania and what I have found here, during this time, is so dramatic as to be nearly at complete opposite ends of the spectrum, emotionally. I was, as I said, in the center of the city, surrounded by everything I needed and, for the final 2 weeks there, I spent at least one and sometimes more meals or coffees each day visiting with and saying goodbye to students and friends. I moved about the city as I wished, either walking, taking the bus, or calling a taxi if necessary. At times I had all I could do to prepare to leave and to keep my appointments.

For days I have seen no one unless someone from maintenance needs to come into my apartment to fix something. I have seen the chair 3 times and 3 faculty members on 3 separate occasions in eight days. That is the sum total of my human contact here. That is NOT the sum total of all my human contact however; I have had several chats on skype with friends and family. Without those, I would begin to wonder if I had been transplanted into an alternate reality somewhere. Without human beings around, it is easy to believe that I do not have a place in the world at all. There's a frightening sense of unreality about this experience that makes me wonder, "When there's no one mirroring our existence back to us, validating our presence, do we exist?"

Of course, this is not the first time I've felt this way. There were many times in Jordan and in Lithuania, especially in the first years, where I felt dreadfully alone. However, I was always busy and never, ever had anything longer than a weekend to be alone. By comparison, this period feels monastic, completely isolated. What's worse is that the more I stay indoors, the more I want to stay indoors. A friend and I were talking about the recurring dream we've had of a cottage in the mountains, a getaway place of peace and quiet, a time to read, to think, pray, and write. Mountains? Check. Quiet? Check. Time? Check. Peace? Not-check. The difference here is that this is forced, not chosen.

The other issue is that I finished teaching at the end of April but because Balamand starts so late, I do not begin teaching again until the end of September. I have taught ever since I was 17 when I had a class of 1st graders in Kingston, Jamaica, and a few piano students. I have never, ever had that kind of teaching break since I began. Who am I, when I'm not teaching? And who am I when no one knows me? Now I am a non-teaching teacher who feels as though she's lost her identity.

This could be a time of real growth--a time to gather the inner resources to deal with the loud chatter in my mind that seeks to create chaos and misery, a time to recognize my ability to do this hard thing.

Limbo is not a dance but Level I in Dante's vision of Hell.

Geri

Friday in Lebanon, Eid al Fitr

2010-09-10T08:56:00.000-07:00

Planks embedded with sharp stones for grinding wheat. These were dragged around the millstone by 2 cows, yoked and muzzled--below.

Flowers from Saba's garden.

University and Monastery, Balamand

2010-09-09T09:57:00.000-07:00

Part II: Beirut and Balamand

2010-09-08T02:33:00.000-07:00

As promised, there was more to the story and now, attending to the questions of "what happened next?" I will fill in some of the missing pieces, in between working on a a long-overdue academic paper. (All my papers and projects are overdue. Perhaps I can start leaving off the pejorative and you can just assume that whatever it is, it is "long-overdue.")

I settled into the back seat of the car, surrounded by the dark interior, my Iftar supper, violin, satchel, purse, and documents, still hanging around my neck. As soon as the driver got in I asked, in my best Arabic, "Entebtaref Ingleezy?" (Do you understand English?) He answered, in Arabic, "No, I only understand Arabic. But you speak Arabic well." Me, still an Arabic sentence or two left, "No, I do not understand Arabic and only speak a little, very little." That was it. My curiosity in my surroundings and what we passed would have to wait and that was just as well. Driving is no small matter in the Middle East. It should take all your attention at all times because the rules of the road are inscrutable, if there are any. Unfortunately, my driver started to text a number to return a call. I held my breath, wondering if I should yell, "La'! La'! La'!" (No! No! No!) but with the situation as difficult as it is on the road more sensory input would not help, so I held my breath. We passed one military check-point and then dove off the main road to avoid more traffic jams and the traffic that clogs the roads even more during the mad dash to break the fast with an Iftar. dinner I was immediately reminded that in Jordan especially, I became adept at ignoring the road and the driving, marking papers, looking out the sides of the windows, not the front, etc. As in Jordan, the tendency is to drive down the center, lining the hood ornament up with the white line. It precludes anyone's ability to pass you. If that's your goal, it works fine until some more aggressive person honks and forces you over. So, I settled back and enjoyed my supper.

It seemed to take forever to get out of Beirut. We drove through the city on back roads that distinctly said, "No entry." All the advertising billboards are in English and French while all the official signs are in Arabic with English underneath, proving what I'd heard about Beirut, "Paris of the Middle East" and most cosmopolitan city in the area. Folks there, I've heard, are proud of their multilingualism. I would be too. Gradually, the lights thinned and so did the traffic, slightly as we headed up the coast but resort hotels line the coast and there was no time that we seemed to be in a strictly rural area, judging by the continuous lights and the glitter they made on the Mediterranean.

After awhile, almost 2 hours, we turned away from the coast and followed the sign that said, University of Balamand and up a steep road. After several switchbacks and a steep climb, we came to the main gate, up to the guards, stopping to identify who I was, and through the campus. Faculty housing, as I'd seen from many pictures and Google Earth, is almost at the top of the campus so I was familiar with the route and the final turn into faculty housing and the parking lot. In minutes, security drove up with the keys. The driver helped me in with my things and left. Security showed me how to use the remote to turn on the air conditioning and then left.

Is it possible to write about nothing? Sure it is! Students do it all the time! So: There were no towels, no pots, no pans, no glasses, no mugs, nada, ninguna cosa, zip. It is much easier to say what there was: Sheets, pillows and cases on the bed, a filthy floor rag (never washed) in a heap on the back of the bath tub, dish soap and two new sponges, 4 plates, 4 bowls, 4 saucers, 4 forks, 3 knives, 4 large spoons, toilet paper ( a little), flat bread, cheese, water. That was the inventory. TVs are personal items so there is no television. I'd be happy with Lithuanian channels and Lithuanian basketball! (They're winning it all by the way!) It didn't take me long to assess the place--not clean, full of Sauder furniture except the fairly nice, nearly new sofa and side chairs,, dining room chairs and table, multiple square feet of white tile, no rugs, a decrepit washing machine, a gas stove/oven, a new microwave, a refrigerator (disgusting), AND worst of all NO INTERNET! My cell had quit sending SMS (text) messages so I was utterly and completely cut off.

Since there were 2 twin beds I took one of the sheets off to use as a towel until I could get towels and thought, "You have a bed. Get in it and try to forget all this." As soon as I cleaned the bathroom as best I could, I showered (a sheet is really awful for drying off!) and got into bed. I began to realize that I was not in the apartment I'd been promised. What had happened to the "balcony"? I had a patio. What had happened to the second bedroom? I had a furnished study. Perhaps I was in the wrong apartment! I did fall asleep, mercifully, though it was not a good night.

I made a breakfast of coffee, pita bread, and Kiri cheese. I felt fortunate to have coffee since I'd saved my little electric pot, Britta pitcher and new filter, some coffee filters and coffee, the last of the Starbucks I'd been given, all for my luggage to bring with me. The little cup I'd been given in the Egypt Air supper container was the lifesaver--something to use for coffee. Fortified, I dialed "0" and asked for the chair's office. Amazingly, she answered! Human contact! A real person. We made a time to meet, she offered to pick me up and give me a tour of the campus by car, have Turkish coffee in her office, try to meet the Dean, and go shopping. I agreed and got ready.

(I am not attempting to create cliffhangers here but must stop for now. Part III coming up!)

Hugs to all!

Geri

Saturday, Sept. 4: Campus, Views from the top

2010-09-05T03:48:00.000-07:00

#1: A Day of Travel, An Evening at the BEY Airport during Iftar

2010-09-04T08:41:00.000-07:00

I left Klaipeda on Wednesday, September 1st, and I don't think I will ever forget that morning. When I awoke I realized that the day I never expected to arrive had, indeed arrived. I have come, gone, traveled, packed so often that I can easily do that without thinking, which is what I did. Thinking too much about what I was leaving and what was really happening would have made it impossible to keep going. Knowing that new faculty, temporarily in the apartment below me, were planning to move in later that day, I tried to leave things in good order. Nevertheless, there was still a long explanatory note at the entrance as I closed the door for the last time. I had been truly happy there--definitely happier there than anywhere else I'd lived in Klaipeda. The charming Old Town always seemed safe, the walk to the bus, the grocery store, the old market, church easy and my well-appointed apartment, one price for cable TV and 4+ news channels, a classical music channel, wireless and all utilities; life there was good.

My friend drove me to the airport at the ungodly hour of 5:10 am, arriving in Palanga at 5:43. I knew I was in trouble and worried about it all night until check in. I'd weighed my 1 large suitcase and knew there was no way I could escape paying overweight. I only prayed for mercy. The pleasant surprise was that, rather than 20 euros/kg. I was charged much less in litas. Perhaps they were tired or took pity on me because I looked tired? Not sure but I escaped a serious problem and took my too-heavy carry on and violin and handbag and satchel on board. That too was a miracle these days. By airports, my travels on Wednesday took me from Palanga, Lithuania, to Copenhagen to Athens to Cairo and finally to Beirut. I did all that to arrive 5 hours earlier than the direct flight from Riga, Latvia. I also was allowed more kgs. in luggage on SAS than Air Baltic. Other than getting snagged in Athens at the Egypt Air desk and having to check my carry on (for free) the schedule worked perfectly. I was not sorry to let them take my carry on after I retrieved my laptop. It was too heavy. They were right about that!

We were given a cold tray of snacks, juice, etc. on the final flight so that as soon as the sun went down observing Muslims could break the fast. Sitting in my row with 2 Muslim men, I refrained from eating, putting the whole thing in the plastic sack provided for later. As you'll see in the next post, that proved to be a smart thing for other reasons. When we arrived, the sun was just going down which meant that every observing Muslim was on a mad dash for Iftar, the feast breaking the fast. On the face of it, Ramadan sounds like a harsh sort of observance and, in the heat of the day, it is--not even any water for most people during the day. On the other hand, the evening celebrations more than make up for any deprivations. They also complicate, delay, and destroy any efficiency one might expect in services--here read, "Immigration."

I got into the line marked "All Passports" and, after waiting, being forced back by an Arab businessman, always more important than a white woman, I made it to the official's window. Not unkindly, he saw my letter of invitation from the University and sent me over to the far end of the room to stand in another line. Getting up to that window, the official said I should walk to the back of the room, a bank window, to pay for a stamp I needed. In the meantime, a young man, looking at my letter, took it to another office. After being displaced in the bank line several times by several businessmen who either ignore or don't see women, I got to the front. I explained I didn't have my letter but that I was sent to this line. He asked where it was and I told him it had been taken and pointed to the young official running back and forth between one office and another. Casually, without any special urgency, he left his window, went out his door and across to the office diagonally across from us, another long walk. He walked back in a few minutes, got behind his window and said, "$34.00 please" and I slid him my Visa Bank card. He said, "We don't take cards." I said, "Oh, OK. Show me an ATM, Cash Machine so I can get some cash for you." Had I known, I would have gotten money in dollars from a bank in Lithuania but no one in HR had said a thing about this. The bank man said, "There is no ATM inside the terminal. Go over to that office and tell them. Maybe they'll let you out to get money!" Visions of Tom Hanks ran through my mind only these visions weren't funny. This is not the first time I've felt stateless but one of the first times it might have affected me seriously.

I came to the office, explained my story. Under no conditions could I leave the airport, of course! I should take a seat and relax. All this time I'm thinking, "Who is the university person who should pick me up? Will they wait? Can they help?" Ahead of me were two Nigerian men. The main official guy said, "I'm going to call the university and get the number of the driver who has come to pick you up. Then I'm going to call him and ask him to go to an upstairs office and pay the fee. He'll call the bank and tell them it is paid and they'll issue you a stamp." So, I was invited to sit down and wait. I did. When the 2 Nigerian men finished one of them turned to me and said, "You are a professor? So am I. I will pay for you." He handed me $100.00 He said, "I'm a professor here for meetings from Abuja. I'm happy to help." I accepted the bill and was explaining that I would get to the ATM outside the aiport to repay him before he left. At that moment, the phone rang and the official said, "I have the number of the university representative. I will call him now." I handed the professor his money back hoping I had not lost my last chance to get out of the airport that night. The official called the driver, as it turned out, and he agreed to go pay the fee. I was told to go back to the Bylos Bank. I did.

When the Bank Man saw me again he said, please have a seat and I will call you when I hear from them upstairs that it has been paid. I sat down to wait...again. Some 5 minutes later I heard, "Professor! Professor!" so I came back to the window, was handed a little postage-looking stamp and a receipt and told to go back to the second line I'd been in. I did. When I was the very next person and motioned forward, the young official--the running-around one--said, "No! You need to be in that line." The line was behind me at a side desk and not one I'd been in before so, why not? I explained that I'd been told to come forward. He insisted I should go back where he pointed, so I went. In front of me were about 10 Asian women, probably domestics, being led through the process by an older, in-charge Asian woman. After 20 minutes while the official went through each passport, each document of each woman, he called the young running-man back and told him in Arabic that I should not be there. By now, there was no one left in the "Passport, with Visas" line to help me. The young man said, "I will help you." Why did I trust HIM? "Please follow me" and he proceeded to walk out of the restricted area. I hung back thinking, after all this time I'm just going to walk out of here? He said, "No, come!" So I did, violin case, satchel, purse, and travel documents around my neck.

We came to another row of windows with only 2 people left in them, one munching something as quickly as she could. The young running-guy said, "Sit here and wait. Everyone is at the feast and I will try to find my friend to get the visa for you." Really? So, I did. (Did anyone count? That was 7 lines and one, the last one, un-line--waiting by myself. Elapsed time: 1.30 hours so far.) After a long time he said, "I have it. You can go." I said, "No, I can't. I don't have my luggage and by now, have no idea where it is." He said, "Follow me." I did. I was stunned to see my two pieces circling in the carousel still. Amazing. So, all the loudspeakers warning us to mind our luggage, etc., etc. ? Sure.

As soon as he saw that I had my luggage, he bolted, yelling after himself, "See? All is well, Have a nice time!" I managed to take it all out through the "Nothing-To-Declare" gate and saw the driver with his "Dr. Geri Henderson" sign. We made it to the car and I climbed into the back seat to eat and see what I could in the dark, nearly 2-hour drive to faculty housing on campus. (To be continued.)

Last Klaipeda Sunset, First Lebanese Sunset

2010-09-03T07:22:00.000-07:00

Apartment, University of Balamand, Lebanon

2010-09-03T06:43:00.000-07:00

Šiauliai, Hill of Crosses

2010-08-19T12:10:00.000-07:00

Part II: The End of the Story of Saturday, The Old Market, and The Butcher

2010-08-14T02:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I asked my friend to help me write a nice Thank You note in Lithuanian to the butcher who helped me last Saturday recover my wallet in the middle of the Old Market. She cheerfully did. This morning I carefully copied it on an English "Thank You" note and took it with a box of chocolates to the Old Market. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to find the butcher again but as soon as I approached the area, he and his wife (?) looked up and smiled. Saying a quick "Labai ačiū!" I handed him the note and box. His broad smile in return signified his recognition. We exchanged no words but my friend told me he'd be very appreciative that I remembered to return to thank him. I don't know what he feels. I do know what I feel: extreme gratitude, as great as last Saturday's.

Popierus Bubelukas

2010-08-08T07:51:00.000-07:00

Packing, Shipping, and other Fun Things

The title of the blog refers to the Lithuanian words for "bubble wrap" and though it's hard to find it's impossible to find if you don't know how to ask for it. All is well; I found some with the help of my friend who is a determined shopper and has a car. Now, a couple of my favorite things can be bubble wrapped instead of taken apart for shipping. Literally translated, the words mean "paper of little bubbles." I discovered that the shipping company recommended to me is less expensive per kilo than the post office so I am packing, labeling, sorting, and giving away, down to the last teaspoon. What a colossal pain moving is and how frequently I seem to have to do it! Perhaps I'll get good at it some day but that is not now, not this day. This day, now, I am not good at it. I do not like it; I always discover too many things that have not been used for some time, and too many things I want to keep to save myself the trouble and expense of purchasing them again. Now, however, I must make sure that each kilo (about 2 lbs.) is worth at least 2.10 euros ($2.74), or it's not worth taking. Of course, some books cannot be easily replaced, if at all, so they go wherever I go. And, if you've ever helped me move, pack, or store my library, you realize that e-books cannot happen soon enough in my life, or yours! I wonder what would happen if an e-reader fell in the tub? I'll bet it doesn't dry out like a book.

Every few days I walk to the Paštas (Pashtas, Post Office) and buy more boxes. I think I have a good grip on the packing process but every so often I open a drawer or cupboard and realize that I could very well miss a nook or cranny that holds something I'd really like to take with me. Probably, for the first time in many moves, I am attempting to pack all I own, on my own. That's doubtless one reason for my worry--others can see and notice things I cannot. I fear that when the shipping company arrives on Thursday I'll have missed so much and have no way to get it to Beirut but deadlines are deadlines. They come and force me to be ready, so I will.

A Story of Saturday, The Old Market, and A Butcher

Yesterday, acting as a buddy for my new neighbor, I took her to the Old Market, several blocks away. It is an especially wonderful place in the summer but is open year-round, especially the indoor section that is filled with fresh dairy, baked goods, fish, meat, and poultry, as well as two long rows of flower sellers. That was our last stop before going to Pasažas, nearby to have coffee on our way home. Susie, my new neighbor, paid for coffee and we went to find the ATM on Turgaus and Tiltu streets. There, I reached for my wallet and it was gone.

I was incredulous, not because I'm the most attentive person in the world but because losing it was just too huge a disaster to contemplate. After searching my market bag and purse, always worn over my head, diagonally, I had to accept the obvious. We walked back to the coffee shop; no one had seen it. Then we walked back to the baker and she said, in Lithuanian, that I'd had it when I left her stand. The dawning misery ahead began to overwhelm me as I realized that I would not get my shipping completed this week without the money to pay for it nor would a new debit card reach me before I left the country. We walked back to the coffee shop where an LCC grad, a young business owner was in a meeting. Realistically, he said, there was not even any point in reporting it. It was most certainly lost forever. My best plan was to forget about it and begin the long process of calling all the credit card companies and cancelling my cards. We walked home.

Back in my apartment I remembered one more place and felt compelled to return to the Old Market. I had put my market bag down to rearrange some items on the counter of an empty kiosk. I returned there and began looking around, knowing that it had been over an hour and that it was probably stupid to believe it might still be there. A young man, a butcher at a kiosk next door came over. (He, in Lithuanian): What are you looking for? (Me, German, broken): My purse. It is yellow. (Lithuanian, less broken): I was here, it is like this (holding hands in the air for shape). (Butcher, Lithuanian): It was a yellow wallet? (Me, Lithuanian): Yes! He left me and went over to a stool covered by a towel. Lifting the towel, he pointed to my wallet! I'm sure he could see in my face my complete relief and, should he have doubted it, my eyes filled with tears. (Me, Lithuanian): Oh, Thank you! Thank you very much.

It was hard to believe this near-miracle. No one would have given me any chance at all of recovering it in the open market. It was only later that I realized that every penny and every credit card was still there. Of course I prayed. Of course I'm thankful. Now I must write a grateful thank you note in proper, not broken, Lithuanian and take it, along with a box of chocolates to the butcher next weekend when he's back at his stand.

Love and hugs,

Geri

Morning Walks IV

2010-08-06T22:04:00.000-07:00

Morning Walks, III

2010-08-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

Morning Walks, II

2010-08-06T22:01:00.000-07:00

Morning Walks

2010-08-06T21:58:00.000-07:00

2010-07-24T02:34:00.000-07:00

A quick run to Melneragė beach to catch the last of the sun one evening.

Klaipėda and Jamaica, A Brief Comparison

2010-07-14T09:47:00.000-07:00

It's the tourist season here and the indefatigable travelers are everywhere! Huge cruise ships dock in the harbor, dumping their charges onto the quay and long-suffering tour-guides trot them all over the area, especially in Old Town, where I live. As a matter of fact, one of the most visited monuments is right outside my door. The chair of our Lithuanian Studies Department is one such guide. Multi-lingual, she is called on for tours in Spanish, English, and, of course Lithuanian. Her stories about what happens on such tours can be very funny such as the story she told recently about the two older mujeres from Spain who sat behind her on the bus, arguing with everything she said, as if they would know!

In Jamaica, it was tourist season most of the time and we tried hard not to appear to be tourists--in dress or speech. Speech? That was easy! As some of you know, patois and the music, both calypso and reggae, are never far from my ears and mouth. Looks? Not so easy when your skin betrays your Jamaican heart. On school days, in uniform, it was easy to make myself believe I could blend in with everyone else. I have a friend who has researched and written about TCKs--Third Culture Kids--children of expats who straddle cultures growing up, and I guess they have trouble really fitting in...anywhere. On the other hand, some of us feel as though we fit in everywhere. Now, in Klaipėda, my tell-tale backpack gives me away. Only tourists and expats use them. Every good European carries a shoulder bag or briefcase. Of course, I am obvious too because I do not have the svelte shape of most of the Lithuanian women who, most agree, are very beautiful.

The weather too has been very Jamaican and so have the living conditions--sweltering heat and humidity without air conditioning. But my Lithuanian friends think my attachment to my ubiquitous fans is not healthy. Besides, they say, why waste money on fans when the Lithuanian summer is only 2 weeks long? Actually, I find the need for fans to be much longer than 2 weeks. I like the sound of them and I do not believe the in Eastern European lore of The Draft, the Thing that will Carry Me Off. Come to think of it, The Draft was much feared in Jamaica too. My office is nearly unbearable when it gets hot because there is no way to create a breeze. Besides, I find myself climbing up onto my desk and into the window sill to be able to reach the top of the window to pull the handle to open the window, as if it will do any good at all. Good luck to the new chair on that exercise!

As for any other comparisons? The open market comes to mind with it's summer abundance of colors, flowers, vegetables, fruits, and hanging carcasses of various animals. The scents from the aisles of flowers cannot overcome the odorous rows of meat, poultry, and fish in the same building. The outdoor area is now packed with berries of all kinds and that is something one would not find in the tropical market. On the other hand, one does not find fresh lengths of sugar cane, mangoes, ortanique oranges, and fresh bananas here.

I continue to pack, sort, communicate with the new chair, work on the LCC Liberal Arts Studies Journal with my co-editor, Eglė Zalatoriutė, write the paper that is supposed to be published in the journal, meet with fall teachers, and try to enjoy some of the great things about summer here. For one thing, the days are very long, getting light at around 4 now and staying light until sunset a bit after 10. Of course, we've already passed the longest of the days, the Summer Solstice being celebrated here as a Christian/Pagan holiday called St. John's, an all-night festival. Jamaica's sunsets only varied a bit in time, situated as it is within the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, the sun, suddenly disappearing behind the horizon as if yanked below the sea by the Almighty on purpose to create the dark that would catch all naughty, procrastinating children by surprise.

I said this was brief...so it is, sort of.

Love and hugs to all,

Geri

St. Kasimir's Day, Vilnius Mar. 6, 2010

2010-07-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

Hill of Crosses, March 2010

2010-07-12T12:52:00.000-07:00

Synagogue: Vilnius 6/2010 2:20 AM

2010-07-08T00:30:00.000-07:00

King Mindaugas Day 7/7/10 2:40 AM

2010-07-07T00:51:00.000-07:00

Orthodox Vilnius 7/6/10 2:49 AM

2010-07-06T01:10:00.000-07:00

Time of Transition

2010-06-29T04:23:00.000-07:00

The Spring Semester
What's the point of making the obvious even more pointed? Yes, January was my last post and I will not apologize this time because I have survived, even successfully, one of the most difficult 5 months of my academic career. Here is an enumeration of the events of the term:

Betty came to teach a 2-week course that had to be truncated into 10 days rather than 14. It was difficult for all concerned.
Jan came to teach a 3-week course followed by Spring break.
My sisters came at Spring break to visit. All I drove our mini-van through all of the Baltic States, managing to arrive back in Klaipeda intact. More on that later.
The new president was inaugurated with much music, ceremony, and many events along with the annual Board Meetings.
I presented a paper at our annual Academic Conference.
I spoke at the Baccalaureate service.
The whole semester was overshadowed by the emotion of the constant decision-making process that went on until after Spring break.

There was extra effort and time spent on each item in the list, above the overload I carried in teaching, departmental work, and institutional committee work. So, I feel good about what was accomplished even though things like the blog, communicating regularly with family and friends, and any personal goals I had, fell by the wayside. All of this, of course, pointed up the need to leave my position here in Lithuania but even that took a great deal of emotional energy and was not an easy decision to make.

Spring Break with my sisters and Jan was a wonderful sightseeing adventure during which I was very nearly ticketed for driving smack-dab into the Riga Old Town city center but, since it was International Women's Day, the policewoman let me off and, not only that, led us to our hotel safely. Thank you Google Maps! Useless! Tallinn is a wonderful city of meandering streets with no place to park. After unloading our car, the taxi we paid to lead us to our hotel (yes, another Google Maps failure) led me to a parking lot where I could park the car for 2.5 days while we wandered through the city. We arrived back in Klaipeda in time for Jan to catch her flight back to the states and for me to show my sisters around the campus and city before they had to leave and before the semester resumed at a faster pace than before. That is the first time I'd actually taken a break in mid-semester. I spent the rest of the semester being grateful for the break and trying to keep up with my classes and the extras that fell after the break.

Deciding to Leave

It was clear to almost everyone else, both friends and family, that I needed a change but when you are here, it is very difficult to see. I have tried to imagine why that might be. Almost everyone who comes here falls in love with the campus, the students, and their colleagues. Why is that? I suppose it might be because people find that when they come they are very appreciated and fill an important need for us. Another point might be that, like a dysfunctional family, everyone becomes so dependent on each other for survival that losing one member creates the hole-in-the-dike syndrome. I know that several things I was covering simply cannot be added to anyone else's load. On the other hand, a new chair of the English department will most likely take on things I didn't.

None of these reasons get to the heart, and I mean heart, of the real difficulty, what has made the decision to leave so difficult. In the four years I've been here I have made some very good friends--among faculty, staff, and students--and I will miss them terribly. Yes, our university is understaffed and our faculty, administration, and staff overworked but I will miss the place. It's become a very comfortable place to be--supportive, collegial, and even fun at times. The students here are very appreciative of the help and let us know that in very dear, touching ways. I am sorry to leave. I have a great deal of respect and affection for many here.

Lebanon, The University of Balamand
On the other hand, I will not miss the dreadful weather. I am looking forward to the Mediterranean climate, the blue, not gray, seasides. I have been told that faculty housing faces the Mediterranean and, from what I can see, that is true. The climate website I checked lists temperatures between 55-86 F. I can live with that--easily! Here is the photogallery of the University of Balamand: http://www.balamand.edu.lb/english/Photogallery.asp . I will be working in the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences building (FASS). I believe faculty housing is in the buildings covered by the four red roofs in the foreground of the overview picture on the home page of the gallery. When would you like to visit? My classes are limited to 15 students and I will be teaching 3 classes this coming semester. I have big plans for the personal time I will have--playing the piano and violin, writing, traveling to Jordan to see friends, to Damascus for the same reason, and other places close by too.

Several have asked about Rabea. I have not been successful in finding her. I have heard that she has moved to Germany with her "new" husband (4 years now) and son, leaving no forwarding address. I hope to see her again someday but none of my efforts to find her have been successful so far.

Almost 5 Weeks in Nebraska
Does it go without saying that I had a wonderful time in Nebraska with family and friends? It does! I always do and this time my sister held a lovely open house with Marilynn M. for my birthday. It was a wonderful opportunity to see people I would never have been able to see in the short time I was home. There are a few pictures here, on the blog, though I'm not a very good photographer.

As usual, my time was filled with visits to visit my mum, my family, and coffees, breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with good friends. I was especially intentional about getting to Nebraska in time to be present for Rachel Benson (Goodale now). As it was a Medieval/Renaissance wedding guests were encouraged to come appropriately attired. I heard from some who believed I had taken orders. The answer is "NO!" Any vow of silence, poverty, or penitence would be a sacrifice too great to make...as you should all know! Well, I think I've got the poverty thing down though it wasn't in my original plan. The album I created for that wedding is on the blog as well.

Packing, Sorting, Leaving

My current life has been limited, mostly, to packing, sorting, and figuring out what to do about shipping, especially books. I have moved my office also and have pitched and will continue to pitch old files that are irrelevant, things that no one has asked to see in my four years, things that are now electronically generated and so forth. I think it will work well for the incoming chair as s/he will not have to deal with stacks of files to find the things s/he wants. What that means though is that both at work and at home my mind is consumed with the nit-picky details of what stays, what goes and where it goes. Isn't the decision-making process the hardest part of moving? Of course now I'm thinking too about shipping costs, customs and import taxes. I do not think Lebanon makes exceptions for educational material.

In the middle of this, I have been spending time with the June faculty who came to teach for me in the English department. They are a wonderful group of three who, it seemed to me of course, were the life of the faculty residence--organizing two trips and two meals together. Lydia K., a friend from UNL days, came and was the instigator for much of the activity. Presently we are in Vilinius together as she photographs her way through a city she already loves. The weather has, amazingly, been absolutely perfect for her peregrinations.

On the leave-taking front, I have said good-bye to several students, several times! One more coffee, one more lunch, one more tea time. This only makes things more difficult but I won't say no. I do think that living overseas is made possible by the connections we make with each other and, even more important, by the connections we maintain with each other. I think it's part of feeling comfortable in the world. Where is home? That's a problematic question, always. I think it's wherever I'm laying my head that night. I feel as close, closer probably, to everyone I've left in the States as I do to those I'm seeing daily where I live. The longer history I have with everyone in the States explains the degrees of closeness I feel, I suppose. Electronically, no one is very far away, something I must keep in mind for the year ahead.

Love and Hugs,

Geri

Medieval-Renaissance Wedding 5/22/10 9:29 AM

2010-06-29T03:54:00.000-07:00

Birthday Open House

2010-06-29T03:01:00.000-07:00

January Clouds, Snow, and School

2010-01-31T02:56:00.000-08:00

LL 26

Now that school has been in full swing for 3 weeks I can say that I know I will survive the rest of the term.

There is a kind of fear, buried deep, that is like a dark thing that crawls to the surface at the beginning of every semester. It asks, "Can you do this?" "Do you really think you have anything to say, or teach that will make a difference?" "What if you fail?" "What if you find you cannot keep up? How many classes will you teach knowing you are unprepared?" And, the most basic question of all, "Do you know what you're doing?" To that last question I would say, "No, I don't always," or even most of the time know what I'm doing but I keep trying, thinking about what I have done, assessing, attempting to figure out just what it might take to be better, to communicate clearly, to be authentic in and out of the classroom.

I have spent some time this year thinking about the strangeness of an isolated community like ours--the isolation is not total but nearly so for some of us. We are a mixture of expats and nationals. Nationals have local, more normal lives mixed with interactions with many people off-campus--their friends and families from the other parts of their lives, lives they've built before joining LCC. Expats generally do not. There are language and social barriers that have proven, for some, to be insurmountable. The language is, even by Lithuanian admission, difficult, and society is generally closed to outsiders. Worse, the all-consuming schedule of the school precludes much outside time for making friends, even were one to know the language well.

There is another isolating factor, having nothing to do with an individual culture or country but more to do with the built-in support system that nuclear families bring with them when they come. I have observed that their lives have more balance, more naturally-occurring interactions, more expressions of love and affection than the life of the single. Nuclear families have brought their best friends with them, singles have not. When, in the evening, too tired and late to make a dinner date, a single comes home, there is no one with whom one can just decompress, vent, or even get a second opinion on a troubling problem. Instead, I spend my time telling myself that I am fine, that my best friends and family are just a skype call away, that a new day will bring some peace and perspective that is always absent from the night and early morning hours. I have discussed this with other singles and my experience matches that of others. In other words, I am not more off-balance than other singles in this similar situation. We must try to connect with each other and, when time and energy permit, connect with people outside the easy, but surface, relationships we have with each other on campus. What a long time that takes! There are so few expats who will be here over the long term.

This spring, like last year, is another overloaded one. I have multiple classes and multiple committees on which I serve, more committees than last year, and the blessing of having visiting faculty-friends is mixed. Betty is here now teaching her blitz-version of "Language Research Methods" and Jan (Dargatz) will come in mid-February to teach "Expository Writing" to the same group of students. Her version will be 3 weeks long and a bit more sane than Betty's 10-day blitzkrieg. Of course Betty appears to be fine. The students, on the other hand, are not faring as well as she is. Her motto, "Sleep is overrated" makes no impression on them while they balance this with at least 3 other classes.

Thank God for my friends, who will probably diminish in number with my repeated requests for help. The mixed blessing is, of course that we enjoy each other's company but have very little time to spend in it. Naturally, there is a certain amount of time and energy that must be given toward ensuring that these generous professionals have what they need, are comfortable, have plenty of food and other necessities with so little time to actually get off-campus to do much for themselves. Betty leaves Wednesday, Feb. 3 and only last night, thanks to Marlene, got the chance to get off campus for a bit of shopping and dinner. I will do better with Jan who, besides being able to stretch the class to twice the length of Betty's will stay for Spring Break so she can actually see some of the Baltics along with my sisters who will be here, and me, of course.

The clouds, dark and heavy with snow have hung over the city and coast for days. Before that, when it was sunny, it was much, much (deceptively) colder. The snow has continued day after day after day and really, I've had quite enough. It has become the new normal to know that there is no car between you and school, just wobbly walking and city buses. Of course, my walking is much wobblier than before because I lost one of my Yak Trax in the snow walking home after a concert. What was just a challenge--getting from one place to another without freezing--has now been complicated by a total lack of confidence without my snow/ice-gripping Yak Trax, the rubber+steel coils I snapped on the bottoms of my shoes and boots. I have heard from locals that this is the worst winter in the past 30. It certainly is the worst in the past 4. I cannot remember when the snow came to stay, it has been here so long now and the continued projection of below-freezing temperatures stretches way into the future, as far as I can tell.

The good thing: I found a Land's End commuter coat--one of their warmest, on sale with free shipping. I had it sent to my sister Marylyn and she sent it on as a part of my Christmas gift. It arrived just when this latest series of daily snows and cold began anew. It is an amazing coat but even so, I'm sure my colleagues are a little tired of hearing about it. They can tell that having this warm coat has made me very happy but it has probably diminished their entertainment somewhat. The truth and sad fact is that there are some nameless and naughty colleagues who would gather to observe my Jamaican body (yes, it will always be more comfortable there) being wrapped and cocooned for the outdoors. Of course, multiple scarves, a pair of ear muffs, leggings and cuddle-duds, camisoles, sweaters, and jackets and gloves, served to create a huge dark blob with eyes which, might be humorous to some, but comfort in the cold is a priority and I have been, mostly. As I told Marlene though, there is one other issue: Safety. Even if you were the worst hooligan in Klaipėda, I doubt you'd have the courage to consider tackling someone who looked as ominous as I do in full regalia.

Now, back to marking, reading texts, and one short evening+mass with Betty.

Love and hugs,

Geri

Procrastinator or Catching Up?

2009-12-20T10:03:00.000-08:00

LL 25

One could say that I'm just trying to get some of the back news delivered or, if one wanted to be mean (honest) one could say that I'm procrastinating. I do wonder how to face yet another set of poorly written papers! Have I been teaching in Sumerian all semester? But my frustration with my students is rooted in a strong sense that perhaps I have failed them. Perhaps I really did not state clearly or effectively what it was I expected. Then, along comes a paper (or rather a digital e-paper) that is beautifully written and satisfies all the expectations I have. How did they do that when their professor is such a master of obfuscation?

On to the real topic: A concert practice that is driving me crazy! Alexander Paley, a concert pianist, now from the States, gave a wonderful, all-Chopin two-and-a-half hour concert last night to an almost sold-out house. He was brilliant, conducting both piano concertos from the piano, separated by a dazzling 45 non-stop minutes of Waltzes. The Klaipėda Chamber Orchestra (Strings) accompanied the concerti. They were not as brilliant having both intonation and balance issues from time to time. But even that is not as crazy-making as the 5-10 minute lecture we receive from the house Artistic Director before every section of every concert. As this concert had three sections, 2 intermissions, there were 3 lectures.

The topics vary widely and can be about the composer or the artist(s) but the lecture is obligatory. It is true that they do not spend much on programs, flimsy photocopied programs with scant notes and perhaps this is a little-known, hardly-recognized nod to an ecological saving of paper but expats are not used to it and, in a second language it take a great deal of concentration to get much out of it at all. The program notes, despite being written in Lithuanian, are much easier to understand as with a little time, I can understand the most important facts. The audience is completely happy with this verbal harangue and expects it, whereas North American artists would be a bit insulted with the apparent necessity of a lengthy preamble before they take the stage.

I am sad to say, however, that one practice, what I have come to call "The Standard Ovation" is international. It has become such a meaningless gesture.

Back to marking my friends!

Geri

The Crucible and Other Tests

2009-12-18T12:52:00.000-08:00

LL 24

The week I returned was tech week for The Crucible. I checked out the school van for every evening through the final performance so I could get all the students and myself home after buses stopped running for the night. It had been over two weeks since I'd seen any part of the play and I was very pleasantly surprised. The night of dress rehearsal was almost frightening because it went so well. By then we knew that the first performance on Friday evening had already sold out. I was in awe of Dr. Becky Briley's direction--she was always focused, attentive, and handled each actor and their problems with an amazing sensitivity to their personality and needs. Michele Hershberger, here this year on sabbatical was an experienced, organized and detail-oriented crew/stage manager. She and her assistant, a freshmen from Moldova, were an incredible team. Ticket sales covered our costs and all three nights attendance was very good being another almost sold-out house on Saturday and fairly full at Sunday's matinee.

As the Barbadian slave, Tituba, a powerful but small part, I could see most of the performance from our front row seats in front of the stage, there being no backstage. Of course, onstage there was little time to think about what other people were doing. Miller's direction is that poor Tituba must weep as she begs for her life. This was my first dramatic role so I wasn't at all sure I could turn on the waterworks at will but I needn't have worried. It was more difficult stopping than starting!

Neufeld Hall, where we performed, is a lecture hall, not a theater, so lighting included two powerful desk lamps pointed onstage to take away shadows for actors upstage. I have some pictures to share, scrolling along the side of the blog here. There were two floor trees and then the usual onstage overhead floods.

I guess the thing that impressed me most was the way young people from such varied places, backgrounds, histories and accents managed to make a very credible performance, one that evoked great audience response and emotion. Of course, there were times that the Eastern European English accent made it difficult to understand individual words but that had little importance overall and certainly did nothing much to disturb the powerful effect. Issues of "witchunting" or demonizing groups of people are no different here than they are anywhere else and, at times, seem more volatile here than in other places. Long histories of domination, subjugation and totalitarian governments have created a level of suspicion that is still noticeable among even our young people now and no wonder.

I have had more than one student report getting beaten up by one group or another. Two weeks ago one of my students returned from a Karate competition in Vilnius with a very black eye. My assumption, that he'd taken a hit during the competition wasn't even close to correct. The poor guy had been shoved to the ground and beaten up by several guys who were ethnically different. There is no love lost between Russian Lithuanians and Lithuanians and though our on-campus discussions about multi-culturalism, tolerance, and so on seem to have a lasting impact on our students we have little influence on what goes on off campus.

Classes are over now and I must mark papers--or lose all of my Christmas holiday in guilt. I will share more pictures and stories.

Love and blessings to all,

Geri

Hemispheric Travel

2009-11-07T11:48:00.000-08:00

Travel Troubles

I know many people write about the miseries of travel these days but really, my cross-Atlantic travel this time had some particularly ugly elements and I can't help blaming Baltic Air for most of it. I must admit, however, that living here in Klaipėda, the coastal and inaccessible, by air, city of Lithuania does not help. Palanga, a smaller resort community 20 km up the coast from Klaipėda boasts a small, and expensive airport. Otherwise, it is a 4-hour bus trip to Riga, Latvia or Vilnius, Lithuania. That is the route most of us use to save money but it does require some very extended travel time as available buses will drop you at the Riga airport some 5 hours before your flight leaves. On my way home, that meant packing and leaving without sleep the night/early morning of my 12:30 pm flight the next day. Then, I discovered that Baltic Air has no agreements with any of the larger carriers so I would have to claim my luggage in Amsterdam, re-check it there, clear security and run to my gate and all within the hour and half allowed. What a colossal hassle, and I consider it nothing short of a miracle that I made my flight and got a boarding pass when the plane was seriously overbooked. Of course, by the time I made it to my seat there was no carry-on space left for me and the airline staff were particularly out of patience with me, which didn't help.

On the return trip, and again, because of Baltic Air, I picked up my luggage a full 8 hours before my flight and sat in the ticketing hall with it for hours, too exhausted for quite awhile to go in search of luggage storage. Finally, after laying all over the luggage cart for a few hours, dozing in and out of consciousness, I was able to look for the luggage storage and paid the 8 € for the 2 hours it would buy so I could get something to eat knowing that Baltic Air's menu is both limited and expensive including charges for even a drink of water. I am sure you must wonder why I didn't just check my luggage and go toward my gate on my arrival. Baltic Air does not open it's ticket desk until 2 hours before the flight.

Arriving in Riga with a bit of time to spare, I had time to get to the airport pharmacy for some antacids for the dreadful heartburn I'd experienced since somewhere over the Atlantic. As I stood in the doorway of the airport awaiting the time the bus would arrive one of the English faculty dashed by, said, "Hi Geri, sorry I need to catch the bus." I thought, "So do I" and headed across the parking lot with my luggage cart. The bus was already waiting across the street so, abandoning my cart I attempted to grab everything for the crosswalk. I was returning with so much more than I had taken! Toni and CharlAnn had sent me back with lots of great reading material and I was and am grateful but I really wondered how I was going to make it to the bus when the wife of another English faculty member offered to help me across the street. As it turned out, half the department was on the bus, returning from Rome and Paris, where they'd spent their fall breaks. I offered to hold a departmental meeting but collapsed in a quiet heap in the corner shortly after that.

It has taken me days to feel better. I am not sure if I caught a bug of some sort or just do not have the elasticity I used to for these quick overseas trips.

Now, I am in the final week before The Crucible performance so the schedule is very busy now, balancing meetings, classes, final rehearsals, and upcoming performances. Marking, of course, will ever be with me.

Love and hugs,

Geri

There and back in Lithuania

2009-11-04T10:33:00.000-08:00

A Quick Visit with Many People and a Funeral

I have had so many wonderful visits with so many friends and family this time home. It is hard to believe that it's time to return to Lithuania already. For one thing, a funeral provides an opportunity to reconnect with all the family in a short space of time. However, the intensity of the occasion makes for interactions that are sometimes bumpy and communications fraught with misunderstanding by people who are under stress and exhausted. Our family was no exception. It did not help, of course, that I arrived, after 3 days of non-stop planning, packing, and travel with final decisions on the music still to be made. But Jeanette, a close family friend sang "The Lord's Prayer" and "The Holy City" so powerfully and expressively, not to mention musically, that there was the sound of applause as she finished. My sisters and their husbands exhibited all grace and willingness to let me have a voice in what was going to happen despite their own exhaustion and the pre-planning they had already done. I have an amazing family in so many ways.

When I arrived, we had one main goal--getting the visitation and the service properly organized. It seemed that the biggest job would be the ordering and selection of pictures for a slide show. Thank goodness the family had decided ahead of time not to deal with the thousands of slides Papa had taken over the course of his life and work. I cannot decide whether it was a love of photography or a desire for documentation and historical record. Still, there were plenty of pictures and my brother-in-law and his daughter Shannon made a slide show after we had spent two separate times selecting pictures for scanning. It seemed to me to be a good combination of serious, funny, and personal combined with the background of a song called "Thank You."

The funeral was well-attended despite the fact that Mum and Papa had moved a number of years ago from their family homes in Oregon and Washington state where they had returned before moving to Nebraska to be with their daughters and grandchildren. The flowers were beautiful. Mother, my sisters, Shannon and I had gone to the florist's shop to order the flowers for the casket, a basket from the great-grandchildren, and a corsage for Mum. I think it turned out fairly well, in fall colors, despite the fact that the wheat cross we had included was not clearly evident. My nephew, Kelly, read scripture and the obituary. My sisters and I each told of a few memories and the eldest grandchildren from both sisters' families included stories of their own. There was also a video sent by the head of Jamaican churches. The last speaker was Greg, my minister-brother-in-law. To say that Papa was a complex character is probably some kind of understatement. Greg's words were filled with grace, integrity and honor. When you have a complicated man, a man with so many sides to his personality and character, the challenge of putting a service together that will meet the expectations of all present is a big one. As much as it is possible to do, this funeral tried to do that, with contributions from people who knew him personally and in very specific ways.

We returned from the graveside for the traditional dinner at the church with family and friends. As is usually the case at these events, the food was delicious and plentiful. Then we all moved to my sister and brother-in-law's house, Kathleen and Greg's, where we continued to visit until it was time to leave. A cousin I had not seen in a very long time, the only Henderson family representative, took me to dinner in Grand Island on his way back to the Omaha airport. We had a wonderful visit as we'd attended the same university in our undergraduate days. It was a great close to a good day.

Hugs,

Geri

Papa's Gone, I'm on my way

2009-10-16T17:56:00.000-07:00

On the West Side of the Pond, Two Weeks

Dear Family and Friends:

Modern Technology is a wonderful thing. My father's last hours were spent with his family, all his family because, while I packed to leave, I was connected by webcam to his room and the family who visited. I heard my sisters and mum singing, I head my nephew and brothers-in-law reading the Bible, I head his grandchildren's voices, the sweet baby voice of one of his great grans, nurses, hospice workers and even Raul, his roommate who has dentures that keep falling down so that you're never quite sure what he's saying. It also helps, in his case, to know Spanish because these days, he can't seem to stay consistently in one language.

My family tells me that 15 minutes after I told him good-bye to close the computer and leave for the bus to Riga, about 2:50 am, my father passed. It was very peaceful, according to my sister. I found this out upon arrival in Minneapolis, where I am right now. A nice layover before I see Joy and Brant is a very good thing. It might allow me to catch up with myself. I have not been to bed since Wednesday night, Lithuanian time, 10 pm CST so sitting quietly in the cafe, catching up on emails, and generally taking care of things that would otherwise keep me up when I finally get to Nebraska.

FYI: I will be at Mitchell's, (308) 384-1024, though I expect to be in Kearney some of the time over the next 2 weeks.

Thank you all for your concern and prayers. I have really appreciated hearing from all of you.

Love, hugs,

Geri

Papa is leaving; I am coming

2009-10-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

Flying to Nebraska

Dear Family and Friends:

In a few hours I will be on the 3:20 am bus that goes directly to the Riga airport in Latvia where I will begin the second part of the trip home. I will arrive in Lincoln on Friday night 11:30 pm but, as things stand now, I do not think I will get home before Papa makes his last trip. The important thing is that I will be with my family and friends during this difficult time.

As always, trips of this kind are very rushed and there is so much to do and to think about. Fortunately, my classes are all very well trained to pick up announcements, assignments and participate in discussions online. There will be little break in their work though they may not be too excited by that news. The week after next is fall break and I will stay in the States most of that week as well. I suppose, when one thinks about it, this even has happened at one of the best possible times, if it had to be before Christmas.

It will be good to know that Papa will be finally comfortable and at peace at last. I am not sure he's had much of that in his life.

Love and hugs to all,

Geri

Papa

2009-10-14T05:26:00.000-07:00

LL 23

Hospice for Papa

On Monday of this week, my sisters, mum, and brother-in-law ran Skype from my father's nursing home in Kearney, Nebraska so we could listen to the presentations of two hospice providers. The long and short of it is that these are Papa's last days. Various physical functions are shutting down, more and more frequently and in greater degree. I was impressed by the presentations of the providers and am feeling assured that these providers will improve the quality of Papa's life, making his final days easier and more comfortable. Naturally, I wish I could be with my family during this period but I am also impressed by the skills my family is demonstrating in the ways they are dealing with this tough situation as calmly and rationally as they are at this time.

Currently, my plan is to return for Papa's funeral.

Geri

Turning on the Heat

2009-10-13T04:33:00.000-07:00

LL 22.5

The City and The Heat

I keep hearing rumors that the heat has been turned on in one place or another around Klaipėda but there is absolutely no evidence of that in my apartment. This morning it was 62 F and with the two little space heaters I have running almost constantly while I'm home, the temperature sometimes gets as high as 68. The school has been cold too and my office, terribly, horribly hot in the summer, feels now like an icebox with all the windows exposed to the cold. Nevertheless, I have more than the usual traffic because the little space heater can make it feel quite cozy and I have to be very quiet about such things because, in an unguarded moment, a space heater can just simply disappear without a word or a trace. Community living, sharing is one thing BUT I must draw the line when it comes to my space heater! I am careful too about how I acknowledge people's compliments on the comfort of my office--I do so quietly, with more reserve than you might think I can exercise.

To give the city its due, I heard that yesterday, in the hospitals and kindergartens the heat was turned on. It's coming.....

In the meantime, this Pillsbury Dough Girl is layered until she is twice her size, which is saying something and while folks poke fun, I'm never cold, really cold, like they are.

Wedding Bridge

2009-10-10T10:39:00.000-07:00

LL 22

Wedding Bridge

There is definitely a chill in the air and when I crossed the bridge over the Danė river on Tiltu gatvė, I was reminded of all the summer Saturdays when crossing the bridge on any afternoon meant trying to sneak through several wedding parties, brides, grooms, bridesmaids, groomsmen having their pictures taken on the bridge. It is nearly impossible to be inconspicuous on a bridge. You're either on the bridge or in the river. I looked around and no one else was "sneaking." Everyone else was "strolling" as if it was the most natural thing in the world to walk through the middle of someone's wedding pictures--someone you didn't even know! By this time of year there is hardly one iron post or section of grill work without a wedding lock, part of the wedding tradition here. Another tradition is that a groom must carry his bride over the bridge and together, they place a padlock, inscribed with their names and the date, on the bridge. No one's ever told me what good this does. Does it ensure good luck? Long-lasting unions? Happiness? Long life? Lots of children? Wealth? or all of it? At the end of the year all the padlocks disappear, taken down by the couples or by the city.

What I found really odd at first about the way they are attired was that bridesmaids choose whatever they want to wear. Some of the outfits are really outlandish, bright colors--red's a favorite, for example. And the styles are often very revealing or, at best, unflattering but outlandish styles, crazy colors and unflattering styles describe lots of bridesmaid's dresses in my experience. As wild as some of the wedding fashions seem to be, it makes sense that if they're paying for their own dresses they could choose something they might wear again...maybe.

Financial Status of Moms, Elderly (and Professors, some of whom are also elderly!)

Up until now and until June, when the government may change their minds about this, Lithuania's had very generous maternity leaves. The first year the mother is on the salary she made the final 6 mos of her employment and the second year she is given 80% of that. The result is that we have to keep positions open for the moms, filling them with temporary people in the meantime. The mom's receive their salaries from the government so employers can afford to hire the temporary help but in the English department, we've had moms who've married Americans, received their green cards, and taken all or part of their maternity leaves in the States. The chance that they'll return is slim, to none, but no one can legally be hired full-time to replace them. The whole idea was that Lithuania was experiencing a declining birthrate and this would help. From all the prams, pregnant moms, and young children I see and from all the missing moms in our university it must be helping. The new regulations, if they are changed, will come about because of the dreadful downturn. Now Lithuania is ranked among the bottom in financial health in the EU.

What has already happened is terrible! Pensioners, retirees have taken a huge cut in their government retirement checks. I really don't know how they will live. No one could pay rent, utilities and buy food on what they were given before the cuts. What now? It doesn't bear thinking about, it's so sad. Of course, the drop in the dollar is squeezing expats too. It's like taking a huge cut in pay/stipend or whatever you call our allowance here. I can always tell dollar strength by the amount I'm allowed to withdraw from the ATMs to pay my bills. I hit the daily limit with fewer and fewer litas. Ouch!

LL 21.5

2009-10-06T00:26:00.000-07:00

The Sun
It is so rare to see the sun once winter comes here. Some folks even keep track--so many days without the sun, and so on--but I find that depressing. In the thick of it, the winter seems endless but never so endless as when someone reminds you. Plodding through the grey days is easier I think. It's the one-day-at-a-time AA philosophy, that actually works!

But today, glorious day, the sun is out, making clear, distinct shadows across the buildings in Senamiestas (Old Town) and streaming into windows as if it could make up for the endless cloudy days behind us and before us. And the rolling thunder that was the background noise of so many days has ceased and so has the wind, come to think of it. Mother Nature is allowing her children respite from her roars today and we are grateful. As a matter of fact, you don't realize how noisy it's been 'til you rediscover the quiet. I'll bet even the Baltic is smooth right now. If I had the time, I'd run down there and check. But I don't.

Today, a no-class, no-meeting day at home, is meant for getting things done that cannot be done in my office at school, which sometimes feels as though it's open house, all day, all the time. So, I will plan a little excursion to the grocery store a little later and hope the weather holds. In the meantime, I'll sit and work, editing a dissertation for a German student, "marking" electronic submissions, answering email, writing references and looking out the window sometimes. Sigh.

LL 21

2009-10-03T23:43:00.000-07:00

October 4, 2009, LL 21

Winter in Lithuania

Distant thunder, cloudy skies, Baltic Sea wind, rainbows, Sun and rain--winter has arrived in Klaipėda, Lithuania! No one was ready, everyone dreaded it, and now, it's here. At first, it feels like a reason to hibernate, stay home, stay warm and dry. After several days I realize I simply cannot live this way! There's a real sense of unreality in hours and hours of solitude, no human contact. I and the voices in my head become a chorus of negativity and doom. Enough!

Drama in the English Department

Dr. Rebecca Briley, a wonderfully experienced professor of literature and drama, is directing Miller's The Crucible. From what I've seen rehearsals are going quite well. Some folks are already off book and her production team is strong and resourceful. They have to be resourceful and creative with our limited budget. Is it any surprise to anyone that I've been asked to do the role of Tituba, the Barbadian slave? I will probably the first white Barbadian slave anyone's seen around here. I know there were "white" slaves in Jamaica with the vagaries of recessive genes, the genetic roulette that creates multi-coloured families in Jamaica to this day! Of course, I'm using Jamaican dialect and accent. For the life of me, I cannot remember the specifics of the Barbadian version and no one around here will know the difference. It sounds authentic...something! Because I'm only in 2 scenes this is not a difficult or time-consuming role to take on and this semester is an easier one, overall than the past 2 last year or even the coming Spring semester promises to be. I am learning my lines but with only 58 total lines and only 2 speeches of any length, even this is not taking time. Becky and I made a recording I can listen to on my IPod and computer.

Since I've arrived the English department has managed to have professors who'll take this on in addition to their teaching loads. Dr. Ervin Beck directed The Tempest and Wilder's Pulitzer Prize-winning The Skin of Our Teeth last fall. In between, I did a reader's theater version of The Importance of Being Earnest. We have been very fortunate because students really enjoy these opportunities, both to perform and to attend. The house is packed and this year will run for 3 performances to accommodate the high interest these productions generate.

Lithuanian News

On August 23rd there was another major celebration around here, the 20th anniversary of the Hands Across the Baltic when the longest human chain was created across the Baltic States, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, to show solidarity for independence from the Soviet Union. The commemorative events were very moving and a good reminder to those of us who were not here what that meant to folks my age who were here. Approximately 2 million people joined hands from Talinn, Estonia through Riga, Latvia to Vilnius, Lithuania and stood in silence for 15 minutes at 7 pm. That event is credited with the beginning of movement toward independence in the Baltics.

It was specifically planned to mark a painful date in Baltic history. On the same day in 1939, the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact was signed between Stalin's Soviet Union and Hitler's Germany, essentially agreeing to divide Eastern Europe into spheres of influence and clearing the way for the Soviet Union to annex the Baltic states in 1940. That memory adds yet another bittersweet tinge as the Baltic states organize numerous events - including exhibits, conferences and meetings of government officials - to mark the 20th anniversary of the Baltic Way. http://www.earthtimes.org/articles/show/282253,the-day-the-balts-stood-still-20-years-of-the.html

One of my Lithuanian friends, Radvyda, told me this Post-Independence story: An information officer ran into the President's office yelling, "The Russians are coming! Help! Help!" The president replied, "Send the tanks to the border, immediately!.... Both of them!" :-)

Notes from my kitchen--yes, just notes.

This section is for my gourmet cooking friends, especially Toni, CharlAnn, Anita, and now Joy: I finally found cilantro, kalendra, and started growing it my kitchen. It has done well but in my efforts not to waste any of it, everything I cook or make tastes of cilantro--scrambled eggs, pizza, spaghetti, bruschetta, and every salad. I like it and fortunately it is not more than once a week that anyone else eats my cooking so, for everyone else, it's fairly exotic. I wonder if it makes my breath smell like cilantro? I guess there are worse things but I also use a lot of garlic. If old wives tales have any truth, I simply will not fall prey to the 'flu' like everyone else around me. Besides, my chicken soup is believed to have healing properties (yes Anita, your mom must have been right on this one) and also be some of the best soup these folks have ever tasted. So, I've been cooking it by the gallon. Oh my!

That reminds me, I organized a ladies' night out and 13 of us went to see Julie and Julia. What fun! Not only were the tickets 1/2 price that night but it was the premerija which means that each theatre seat had little gifts and samples. Before the movie began, an emcee called up every woman who had participated in the bake-off. They all came on stage wearing aprons and carrying pyragas, or cakes. 3 were awarded a top prize of some sort and every woman was given a lovely bag of cosmetics. All the cakes were displayed on a table so that as we left we could try them. The fact that the stories of Julie and Julia were true stories made the movie that much more charming.

I am a fan of Streep's in any case so the story didn't matter so much but, as you see, I've resurrected my ancient blog because I was reminded, while watching, how much easier this is than attaching a word document to each email. Furthermore, my plan is to make it more personal by posting notes more often. Every so often I will collect them and send them to all those who don't follow blogs or prefer to print them and read them over coffee.

LCC International University, The English Department

This week I was made aware of the need for nailing down our course offerings for Spring. That was depressing. We will lose Dr. Briley and be operating with a skeleton crew for Spring...again. We will only be offering core curriculum courses, the necessary courses the English department supplies to the university core curriculum and all students but for the English majors? Hardly anything at all. Thank goodness for the cross-listed courses available in the other departments. Furthermore, even to accomplish this much, I will have to teach another overload and an all-freshmen load again. I must say, I've enjoyed this semester very much, so far.

I've been teaching and creating "Children's and Adolescent Literature" to juniors and seniors. What a pleasure that has been! Our discussions about archetypal images, gendered stereotypes, the history of stories, the need for legends, and so on has been an education for me. My experience from last year's all-freshmen-all-the-time, brought home the fact that freshmen require a great deal of energy, especially this first semester. One class of them, "Rhetoric and Communication" is plenty. It is difficult for them to get in the groove and some never do. Concerned relatives have already been calling the registrar for information and, of course, operating on North American standards, we cannot release student information when they've requested that it not be released. The registrar doesn't even understand this and keeps telling me that we have to say something to the people who are paying the bills. Yes, well, one would think, when you put it that way.

Of course, we're still looking for a linguistics professor and so, I gather, are 50% of the other universities of the world. Some very necessary courses are not being offered and I want to run and hide--or remain in hibernation 'til someone else figures it out.

I will post again, soon.

Best to all of you! Thanks so much for your support, notes, prayers, all of it. By the way--see the easy way you can drop me a comment here? Hearing from you would be wonderful!

Hugs and Love!

Geri

Christmas letter

2008-12-23T12:21:00.000-08:00

LL 16
December 23, 2008
Dear Family and Friends:
Well, I know I should be grading or packing or maybe baking but it seemed like a good time to take a break and write to you since I’m thinking about you so much just now. This will be not the usual Christmas letter because you all know what I’ve been up to this past year. What’s missing is what YOU’VE been doing! So, when all the packages are unwrapped, the turkey/ham is eaten and the last “Amen” is said in the last Christmas service, send me a note. I miss you.

This semester, as you all knew, was quite a wild one. Next semester will begin with even more craziness than the previous one but after 3 weeks things will be semi-normal because faculty who have to wait for visas will have arrived. Then, the several courses I’m covering will be turned over to them, quickly! I will begin with 3 sections of Academic Writing, 1 of Expository Writing, and a weekly large lecture of Intro to Lit. When all is said and done I will have just the weekly large lecture and one section of Academic Writing. One of the people coming has his DMA (Doctorate of Musical Arts) and will be forming an orchestra. His plan is to do an evening of Gilbert and Sullivan or HMS Pinafore. That should be fun. I am co-Chairing the Academic Conference with Marlene which takes place the last weekend of March and so far, that’s been a rewarding group of people with whom to work.

At the Christmas faculty staff party I was honored with the Faculty Award for Excellence. It’s a strange feeling because, as the person who pushed to put it in place last year, I am only the second recipient. But, it was a nice honor and Marlene tried to make sure that I and everyone else understood that none of the letters of nomination included “overwork” as one of the commendations! Well, let’s just say it’s pretty easy to appear to be everywhere and doing everything, almost, on a small campus. But yes, I was honored.

I will be moving to Old Town, to a larger and less expensive apartment this break—actually in just a few days. I am looking forward to it for several other reasons too—no smelly hallways, further away from school (close was nice but the change of scenery and the advantages of downtown will be better), a flat rate for rent + utilities, and a small building, 6 total apartments, all owned by one very nice family. So I can get away from the scowls I’ve been getting for the last year and a half just because I’m foreign, have an accent when I say hello or just because I say hello, and whatever else. Lithuania, as I’ve read recently, is one of the most discriminatory countries in the world. Well, I’m not sure I believe that. I think there are other places where it is much, much more difficult, even dangerous to be foreign.

I know, because I’ve heard from several of you, that you wonder what’s going on with my job search. Hmmm….I don’t know much. First, some of the deadlines have just past, I’ve been shortlisted twice and rejected twice. Other searches have been called off because of hiring freezes and then I read an article recently, last week I think, in one of my academic journals about the common practice of age discrimination. One applicant quit putting his date of graduation on his CV. I don’t know if that helped him. Maybe NOT having a date is a big, loud message too. Who knows? I have applied to a number of places where I felt I do fit the job description perfectly. I have also been asked to consider staying on here. Filling my position here is not easy so I would imagine that the date for committing to stay will arrive earlier than some possible interviews.

Charlie wrote a beautiful Christmas note as she always does and reassured me that most of you, my friends are not yet on the dole. That’s a relief. All I hear is pretty “doomy” and gloomy from this side of the world and what is reported from the States. That said, it’s nice to have a job and meaningful work to do, whatever it is.

I have chosen a few photos from the past year to put in a Picasa album here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/gerhen/December2008#
There all labeled. Next year’s pictures will include one of Betty where Marty’s picture is this year. It will be wonderful to have another good friend and professor over here to help.

Sunday evening was our church nativity. I wrote the script and sort of directed it but I should tell you that the cute angels and shepherds more than make up for any of my deficiencies. Click here to see almost everyone involved—and almost everyone was involved. We are few in number right now with a number of people gone for the holidays.
http://picasaweb.google.com/chrislydiabosch/ICFChristmasProgram#
I have been delighted to receive all your good wishes for the season. Thank you. Chad came from AZ State U for the holidays bringing some of your gifts and cards with him. How very lovely. I called him the Noble Sherpa because he carried things for several of us. He has also helped me with recording grades on Blackboard and marking some of the easier papers.
Tomorrow evening I will go to Christmas Eve Mass at Christ the King, a Lithuanian church. I wonder what the music will be like this year? Last year everything was played with a country-western beat after the opening classical pieces. I’ll bet you’ve never heard Ave Maria played with country guitar and boom-chuck drums. Nevertheless, their choir is enthusiastic and sings with joy and gusto. It’s always been a wonderful way to usher in Christmas Day. Christmas Day we will have a big dinner, each of us bringing one thing for the dinner. It will include International Students stuck here over the break, many from Africa.
Best and blessings to you all,
Hugs and love,

Russia Auguest 2007 with Jan.

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This is our ICF Christmas program. Marlene Wall was our photographer.

ICF Christmas Program

2007-12-04T00:49:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, December 2nd, the children and some adults presented a pageant under Ramond and Becky Powell's direction. For the first time I felt as though I belonged to a real spiritual community. The atmosphere was festive and the children adorable. There was lots of music--I know because I played the violin for almost every song while Virginia soldiered on through multiple verses of Christmas Carols. I have added pictures Marlene took of our pageant.