First Impressions

I woke up early yesterday after sleeping only 6 or 7 hours since it felt like 4 in the afternoon to me. I decided to familiarize myself with the area surrounding the school, so I got dressed and headed out around 8:30am. This was my first real exposure to the infamous desert summer heat which conjured memories of burning brush at the farm. The contrast in temperatures between indoors and out are so extreme that my glasses fog every time I exit a building. I walked for about two and a half hours, discovering grocery stores and mentally noting restaurants that I thought I might like to try, a beautiful public park with a grand fountain at its center, a tailor’s, a barber shop and several other things I thought would be useful.
I walked down Zayed Street toward the vast openness I suspected to be the Gulf, but later learned from a school driver that I had been walking in the wrong direction anyway. I suppose that a sea of sand looks just as empty as a sea of water. By the time I arrived back at the campus, I was exhausted, drenched with sweat and had rubbed the tops of my feet raw on the wet leather of my new sandals.
Later on, I had a knock at my door. It was a school official who was surprised that I had not shown up for a lunch in the school’s staff dining area. I went to lunch with him, the director of the Abu Dhabi school and a girl who had arrived, like me, late the night before. I was embarrassed to reveal that I had already eaten lunch at a Lebanese restaurant across the street merely an hour before but talked Olympics and ate fruit.
The communication here is, at its best, terribly lacking. Indeed, I type these words as I sit alone in the administration area at 8:10 on the second day after my arrival. I just spoke to the director as he bustled past, and he was, like me, under the impression that the new teachers were all supposed to be here ten minutes ago. But when I went out last night with about 20 of the new teachers (the vast majority of whom are Irish nationals), they all believed we didn’t have any training today until 11:00am. I’m sure they’re all still in bed and won’t be roused until much later.
I have tried desperately and unsuccessfully to avoid napping since the jetlag has been considerably difficult to overcome and establishing a sleep schedule will be one of the hardest adjustments I need to make my first week here.
The accommodation here has surpassed my expectations. I have a modest, clean studio with kitchen/dining area, living room, bathroom and a bed tucked into a half-enclosed corner. I thought I would be sharing a kitchen, but was pleasantly surprised to find out upon my arrival that I was one of the lucky few to receive a single room my first year with the school. They saw to details, too. Laid out were tea and instant coffee packets with a teapot, a small container of sugar, utensils and flatware, pots and pans; the bed was made and extra sheets and towels were placed in the closet. In the refrigerator, I found a beautiful fruit plate and a bottle of water.
Everything here has a subtle yet ever present feel of Europe. The layout of the city, the delicate iron gates and parks with their stately and powerful fountains, the well trimmed flowering hedges that adorn the school’s walkways, the bidet in my bathroom, the skeleton key I use to lock and unlock my apartment, the tiny grocery stores, the shops and restaurants that spill into the street all smack of the Continental.
The real difference lies in the people. How incredibly diverse they are! Women range from the minimally clad to those dressed in a full burkha.
Today is my first day of official training in the SABIS system that the ISC employs. It should prove to be a long day, and there are several more to come.