I lost my luggage lock.
Hello my friends!
Today is my 52-week-one-year anniversary moving to Doha! I arrived on Thursday, August 16th, about 4:30pm and met my Doha best buddies, Joe, Sam, and Zach_Neighbor at immigration and baggage claim. I learned very much from them during the initial move-in phase (and a few others as well). I'm grateful for them. I'm so grateful. I am happy to celebrate a "friend-iversary".
I have said this before: I will always remember sitting on the bus from the airport to our apartment building, listening to the travel stories and experiences of these colleagues, who have become 15 of the greatest friends I could ever ask for, thinking "wow, these are amazing people... but, I'm here too... so, I'm one of those amazing people as well. I think I just did a really big thing." After a difficult decade, it was the second moment in 5 months I stood a little bit taller, knowing Doha was my right path and I too might be counted among the amazing. Today, I stand really tall. Having returned home this summer, I realized how "big of a thing" I really did. Y'all kept telling me and I just brushed it off. I see it now. Big. Big thing.
I celebrated one heck of a Doha set of adventures by taking myself to see Blue Man Group on Wednesday night.... I totally music teacher geeked out. AT THE BAND. The tallest one on the right is also a music teacher, and we both geeked out a bit. #bandcrushing #musicteacherperks. They played song skits I knew but one I don't recall, a set of steel chimes, 8 feet long as the smallest.
I love Blue Man Group. (See: Dave Matthews Band + Blue Man Group : Sing Along Video) (lyrics, If I sing a song, would you sing along, or should I just keep singing right here by myself...) I've seen them 4 times. I was part of the pre-show screen jokes about audience members. Apparently my colleagues at Qatar Airways bought my ticket because they were appreciative of my working so hard this year. I had to stand up and show everyone in the theater where the emergency exits were.
This, I could do, because I've spent lots of time in aircraft lately.
But, seriously, I lost my favorite luggage lock.
9 countries. 12 years. I can't find it anywhere.
I've always had it, since adventures began in 2008 on a single-girl trip to the Greek Islands, every trip taken had that lock, and check-in at Newark Airport was the last time it was seen.
Cosmically, I hope it's in a travel-compartment-zipper-pouch-container-sleeve and not forgotten to be placed back on by Me/Customs/Homeland Security. I shared an apartment with my cousin for two weeks this summer, and he said about 45 minutes after getting (and then losing) said college-apartment-swipe-card, "I release you and send you off to the universe."
His swipe card returned in a cosmic (comical) series of events.
I hope my lock turns up too.
Anyway - it was a great summer!
I wish I could keep it short. I wish I could only tell you one or two things... but I'll tell you one or two things about the dozen or so things.
I was happy to have taken a breath after school to rest here in Doha before a jam-packed 6 weeks. It was a whirlwind end with schedules, ceremonies, last minute cocktail parties, sight seeing here...
July 1st I departed with my first and best Doha buddies for Amsterdam. (I know what you're going to say.) However, adopting the idea "You have to do the thing you're supposed to do, in the place you're supposed to do it, with the people you're supposed to do it with", from "What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding" by Kristin Newman, going to Amsterdam with these friends met my thing-place-people quota.
I rented a stuffy old-European style room in what was claimed, according to all travel reviews, a "library", but it was a clean room with wifi on the 4th floor (that's 5th in US terms) of an elevator-less hotel that had "books on shelves in the lobby", and Europe-Rick-Steves-Style breakfast "included in my stay" since I booked directly from their website. It was across from the train station, which had a great view of the actual library and waterway, and the sun did not set until well after 10:30pm... but the cobblestone toe-stubbing streets and bicyclists were enough to drive me insane. Pedestrians are to follow basic traffic rules, but it's impossible to cross the street following rules if the light is blinking "time for people to walk here", and bicycles just plow through. Now I know why "I'm walking here" is such a phrase. I bought a grocery tote with a bicycle print as a memento. No, I did not rent one. I did not want to become a bicycle driving casualty. I went to one of the oldest Botanical Gardens in the world, most of it planted in the 1630's, and I hugged trees. Really tall trees. After living in a desert for 12 months, trees become a big thing (more on trees in a bit). I walked a hedge labyrinth, smelled flowers of all colors, was kissed by a butterfly who followed me all around the greenhouse, had a picnic on Dam Square drinking Prosecco and eating Italian Pork Products you can't get in Doha (made a whole lot of Dam Jokes), ate "non-organic, family-friendly" Macarons swinging my feet over canal ledges, and went shopping for a new travel backpack. I enjoyed beverages in little cafes and played card games with my friends. We spent several hours in one cafe, and drank the owner out of one particular beverage. I mooched wifi from restaurants and cafes to send my family photos. I walked 19,000 steps the second day I was there on a self made walking tour, I think to the dismay of Sam and Rachel who had tired feet. I didn't want to sit down. I wanted to keep moving. I saw some things I wouldn't tell my grandmother about, but I just kept walking.
Flowers, Butterfly Kisses, Garden Paths, Wifi Mooching, Tree House Learning Center,
City Urinal (not in current use), Friggin' Bicycles.
I flew to Dublin on 4th July. I made my way to River Liffey and Tara Street, had a liquid lunch, and rejoiced : I WAS IN IRELAND. I checked into a 3rd floor (that's 4th floor in US terms), shared room, bunk beds, with 3 women who never spoke to each other or me, in a very ancient hostel right off Temple Bar. (ancient = no elevator). It was, um, great. The sink was clogged, there was blonde hair all over the shower, and the 4 of us never kept the same time table (I was up and out of that room by 830am each day).
I can now say that I stayed in a Hostel in Ireland. That's a bucket list item, done.
I walked 22,000 steps that first day, from River Liffey through Temple Bar, through Trinity College (stopped for a tea at the cafe), and over many streets. I saw a Dan Elliot concert with my best Doha pal and teaching mate Faraway Martin. I believe I was the only non-Irish person there at The Grand Social, a small concert hall above a great restaurant.
I toured St. Patrick's Cathedral and was awestruck by the stained glass and brass fixtures inside. There are no words to describe the light shining through the glass. There is also a brass Tree of Remembrance (tree references coming) in the center of the Cathedral, as a WWI tribute piece. WWI was one of the most destructive wars in Irish history. The project fills the tree with names of those you wish to remember, hero names and stories written on leaves, which bring the tree to life. I cried. A whole lot. Multiple tissues needed, reading the leaves and writing one of my own. As I take more steps forward, he will always and forever be my hero. There will never be a day I don't look up to the strength of James Riley. But this post is about Ireland, so we'll leave that be.
Inside the grounds of Christ Church Cathedral there is a statue of a homeless man on a bench. Haunting and sad. I could not bring myself to take a photo. Only upon reading more about later it did I learn that it is a statue of Jesus. Covered, blanketed, asleep, and disguised as a homeless man. Recognized only by the wounds in his feet. It is eerie, because it is the second statue I've seen on the globe that actually made me stop from afar for 30 seconds to determine if it was a real person or a statue. Memorable, beautiful, soul-filling, and curious about the state of humanity these days.
Across the street from Christ Church is Peace Park, with a bronze tree statue. (Trees... everywhere on this trip, like a sign or something). Outside the park is the Millennium Child statue, three children playing, and it reminded me very much of my bond with my brother and sister. Who I miss.
First pint in Ireland, Dan Elliott, Millennium Children Statue,
Streets of Ireland, Windows of St. Patrick's
I toured Book of Kells (a very old Gospel manuscript) filled with ornate, calligraphic designs. I learned about mixing color inks and dyes, lettering, paper making, and saw some very very old writings on the wall. (pun intended). I walked through Trinity Library Long Room, spellbound by the books. Belle in the library, swinging on a ladder, looking for a more provincial life. Thing-place-people. Got it.
I met Faraway at Guinness Storehouse where we played tourists, poured perfect pints, took silly photos in the museum, and chatted about life outside of and after our Doha experiences.
The third outing, Farway took me on a personalized tour of the West Coat of Ireland, coffee in Doolin and the Cliffs of Moher (thing-place-person), and I could not believe how green and lovely everything was. Misty skies like in Irish movies. Christy Moore on the radio. Craic over a coffee watching the Irish Open. Sláinte taking on a new meaning.
Buses, cabs, and trains through southern Ireland. I went to Rosslare Harbor where I twice climbed 105 steps (there is only one lift in this vacation), sat on the balcony of my Hotel Rosslare room, watching the Europort ferry boats, splashed waves on the beach, and let it all out. I went to Cork to experience music sessions and sandwiches and sitting in squares with tea.
I went to Galway and fell in love... with the town of Galway. It was like coming home to my parent's house. The park, the streets, the trees, the grocery store, the bus terminal - it was all as if I'd been there before. Familiar. I knew my way around but I've never been there. Food filled my stomach and music filled my soul. It was 52F and raining, my coat and boots were in luggage storage in Dublin, I slipped into cafes and the history museum between rain drops and learned more about the beautiful country of Ireland.
I returned to Dublin for a silversmith class and crafted a really cool ring... which has the design of tree bark hammered into the outside (trees...). I had a pint in a Victorian Era pub and made my way back to my room, over the Ha'penny bridge, a cast iron bridge over the River Liffey originally built in 1816 but since renovated (Similar experience: Italy, Rialto Bridge, but no cute waiters this trip, many historical facts about this bridge, but one way of separating the upper class from the lower class sides of Dublin due to the cost of a ha'penny to cross.)
It took me over 3 hours to get through ALL of the security points at Dublin Airport. I'm glad I checked out early from the apartment with such bad electrical wiring and wifi connections that I was afraid to use the outlets but had taken the elevator (finally!) downstairs to the restaurant 3 floors below to find out their wifi password because their signal was stronger than the box in my room.
Dublin Airport requires methods for clearing US Customs and Border Patrol before you depart Ireland, so technically you're on a US domestic flight... departing from Irish soil... landing at a domestic terminal in the US.
I was happy to speak with every representative of Homeland Security I encountered as I was shuffled left/right and had everything from my carry-on removed, wiped down, quizzed about the origin and where I've been for 12 months. They helped me repack, but not before they gave me back my shoes and passport at the very, very end. I've had lots of feelings in 40 years, but I've only once before felt more alone and isolated than when I had a Border Patrol Agent take my shoes and passport "to give ya back later, when we're finished chatting". Yikes.
I went from 2 weeks of travel into 2 weeks, 4 credit graduate credits, nearly 15 hours a day, intense music training. I shared a campus apartment with my other-brother/cousin. It was great to catch up with him and that side of the family. I made 20 new music teacher friends, learned tons of teaching techniques, and spent those two weeks growing professionally. Coming back to life, job side. It was hard to keep it together that week, with all this tree stuff, and "A Tree" was our final project theme (seriously). During the final performance where I was doing "all the things", I caught myself tearing up a bit mid-recorder solo. Trees are a symbol of dreams, hopes, transformation, liberation. Things-place-people. Trees. Entire summer of trees.
I spent the rest of the time with my family and a few close Scrantonian friends. A weekend at Dewey Beach. It was good to see the globe from that side of the ocean again. It was soul-warming to get hugs from my parents and siblings (and sibling families). Baseball with my dad. Swimming with my mom. Dinner with friends. The dentist. A haircut. Things-place-people.
Home.
This all spins around and leaves me checking my suitcase at EWR, which comes in less than 50lbs at EWR according to THEIR scale (I am now convinced AVP flight carriers are skimming you off the top, as my luggage was 53.5lbs at AVP, but only 47.6lbs at EWR... yes I went a day early to weight it in... hey, I had Jordan Crackers to pack.)
Since EWR said it was only 47.6lbs, I tossed some stuff in from my backpack, and I think this is where I lost that lock. I placed it on the ticket counter while I filled up to 50.0lbs. And yet, I swear I remember putting the memorable code back in and spinning the wheel.
Much like this year in Doha will be - spinning the wheel.
Making decisions.
Asking tough questions.
Things-places-peoples.
More passport stamps.
A symmetrical year from the first.
Symmetry: from the Greek : Sun-Metron : With-Measure
The quality of being made up of exactly similar parts facing each other or around an axis; Similarity or exact correspondence between different things.
I know this photo from the Convention Center is not quite symmetrical in your opinion, but in mine it is. Similar parts facing each other around an axis. Time for year 2 in Doha. Same city, different go-around.
A Symmetry Year in my focus and my ideas.
With-Measure.
Calculated Spontaneity. My specialty.
But now, I'm off to greet the new staff. I've been asked to be on the new-teacher orientation team. I'm proud of that. My boss said if anyone could show someone around Qatar, it was me. That's a compliment I'll take.
So, to the Newbie Team of 2018, you're locked on my heart. I'm excited to begin the next adventures with you here. May we continue to be the thing-place-people to each other...
To the Newbie Team of 2019, your Qatari Adventure begins. The GEMS Team is here to meet you in about 15 minutes. Your experience will be however you wish it to be.
Welcome to Doha.
See you around town. #wewillalwayshaveparklane
Sláinte.