Weighing in

We don’t travel light.  And we have a 1200 pound limit (500 each for Andreas and me, and 200 for Alekka, but of course we don’t have to divide it up exactly that way).  So we need to keep track of what all we’re packing.

Andreas built a wooden platform to put on our bathroom scale so we can weigh the boxes.  We tested what we have so far and made a list, numbering each box, describing the contents and recording the weight.  So far we are up to 700 pounds.  That is all of Andreas’s things, my work stuff, and some household items. Actually I would say we’re doing pretty well.

But I am still wondering how much of this is really necessary.  We are not moving to the moon, after all.  They do have stores in Damascus.

I keep thinking about these wooden boxes, reminders that when my ancestors Gilbert and Euphenia Rowan emigrated from Scotland to Ontario in 1817, everything they brought was in these two trunks.  The big brown one was for clothes and household goods, the small one for books.  And that was for a family of seven who were going to have to clear the land, build a cabin, and grow all their own food.  And they were going to stay in Canada for the rest of their lives.

And this one held the books (never go anywhere without your library! Good thinking, ancestors.)

This trunk was for clothes and household items.

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Stuff

Getting started with the packing project. The piano stays home.

When we started looking into shipping our stuff to Syria, the first few companies we called pretty much told us it couldn’t be done.  Like, you can’t get there from here. Axis of Evil and all that.

Soon afterwards we got a message from one of the administrators at our new school warning us to be careful about choosing a shipper.  His own shipment had been handled by “morons” who declared they could not deliver due to embargoes – unfortunately this was after they had already picked up the order.  His stuff took two months to arrive in Damascus.

So we poked around and asked some more questions. The school recommended a certain company on the Syrian end.  We contacted them and they gave us the name of an American shipper they often work with.  We arranged for that company to handle our stuff, but they had to subcontract with another shipper that serves Medford.  So our things will actually be picked up here by one company, get shipped overseas by a second company, then travel from the port to the school with a third company.  I guess we just have to trust that all the links will work out and our stuff will arrive in a timely manner.

We will for certain follow the instructions in our new teachers’ handbook, which advises us to bring enough in our suitcases for the first few weeks of school.  Just in case.

Update: You should have seen the guy who came from the Medford company to give us an estimate. He was wearing a big cross around his neck and kept looking at me like I was going to blow up his car. Sheesh. Just send my stuff to Damascus, OK?

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Typing lessons

Our new insurance policy is underwritten by Lloyd’s of London.  For some obscure reason, they require us to submit our blood type.  This turns out to be much more difficult than you would think. Back in middle school biology class we typed our own blood (a lab that no teacher in their right mind would consider doing now, for a number of reasons).  Well, good luck finding an American doctor to type your blood for you. Fortunately I had a card from when I was pregnant with Alekka that showed my type.  For Alekka, we had to convince her pediatrician to order a blood type test at a lab.  I’m hoping our old insurance will pay for it; I suppose it will depend on the reason the doctor gives.

Andreas is having the worst time.  His cranky doctor flat out refuses to order the test.  So Andreas went to the Red Cross on the Friday before last to donate blood, because of course they check your blood type as part of the process.  He had never given blood before. After an hour’s worth of screening, they couldn’t tap into a vein in either arm.  They told him to go home and drink water all weekend and come back Tuesday.  He drank gallons of water and went back Tuesday.  Another hour of screening and they hooked him up.  No go.  Apparently he has an unusual “collapsing vein response” – probably a good thing if you are bleeding, but not so good when you want to know your blood type.

You almost don’t need a map of Ikaria because it’s not big enough to get lost on.

About twenty years ago there was a woman from Ikaria who needed a bone marrow transplant. The Pan-Ikarian Brotherhood supported a campaign to get Ikarian islanders (Andreas is one) to sign up with a registry in hope of finding a match among that small gene pool.  Andreas remembered signing up, and after much searching he finally located the right organization.  Alas, they also do not have his blood type.

On the Internet you can find kits for checking your own blood type, popular with the Eat Right 4 Your Type crowd.  I think our next step will be to order one.  Should be pretty easy – after all, a middle schooler can do it.

Update: I ordered the blood type test kit off the Internet.  It comes with a mini-scalpel, a pipette, a printed card embedded with reagents, and all the other stuff you need.  A bargain at $12.95. I was rarin’ to go but my patient kept putting it off – something about that sharp little lancet, I guess.  But then one evening Andreas was making souvlaki and jabbed his finger with a skewer.  “Quick, get the kit!” “Keep bleeding, I have to put drops of water in the little circles!” It was very exciting.  And we got our answer.

Ta-da! And the result is… O positive!

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Hep cats

Our school in Damascus has a full-time nurse. The staff at the school calls her Nurse Julie, and we’ve heard that she has been at the school longer than just about anybody.  She is responsible for keeping students and staff healthy while they are there.

Nurse Julie sent us a letter outlining a few things we need to know.  On the list were typhoid and hepatitis A and B immunizations for us all.

Kids these days get hep A and B vaccines as part of the routine series, but Andreas and I had to go down to County Health to get ours.  We went separately and got different advice.  He’s on the normal schedule, which means he’ll have to get his final dose in Damascus in six months.  I’m on an accelerated schedule, so I have to get one more in three weeks and then a booster when we come back for a visit next summer.

We’re in the yellow zone.

Typhoid is not part of the regular vaccination routine in the US, so all three of us had to get that one.  The map on the wall at County Health shows typhoid danger countries in green, and typhoid alert countries in yellow. It shows Syria as a yellow country, but it also says in the key that in yellow countries immunizations are strongly advised for “adventurous eaters”.  Yup, that’s us. Andreas was the first to take care of it, and he opted for the oral live-virus version – a capsule every other day for a week.  The thought of it creeped us all out (what is in those capsules, anyway?), so Alekka and I both chose to go with the shot instead.

My doctor said we should also get the rabies vaccine, but in the end we decided against it.  I doubt there will be many bats and wild dogs in Damascus.

To get our work permits we will have to get a TB test, but that has to be done in Syria.  Also residents under the age of 50 have to get an HIV test there.  As old folks, Andreas and I are exempt.  I’m trying not to get huffy over what they that says for Syrian attitudes about over-50s, and instead just be glad I don’t have to get another blood test.

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FAQs

1. Will you have to wear a burqa?

No.  Although 85% of the population is Muslim, Syria is officially a secular state and there is no legally-mandated dress code. Some women wear burqas, some wear the hijab (headscarf), others wear western style fashions.

Asma al-Assad, Syria’s first lady, is quite stylish.

2. What does your daughter think about going to Syria?

She’s excited about experiencing life in the Middle East and the prospect of making new friends from all over the world.   The 8th grade graduating class at her future school this year comprises 21 students representing 14 nationalities.

DCS 8th grade graduation, 2011

3. Are you going to work at a DOD school?

No.  Damascus Community School is a private American-style school associated with the American embassy in Damascus.

 

 

 

 

 

4. Can you drive over there?

Yes, I can. You might be thinking of Saudi Arabia, where it is illegal for women to drive.  Not so in Syria.

But neither one of us is interested in driving in Damascus.  Cabs are cheap, the buses are good.  And the traffic signs are all in Arabic anyway.  We can walk to work from our apartment, which ought to be enough of an adventure.

5. Where will you live?

The school provides us with a furnished apartment about a 10-minute walk from the school.  Other teachers will also be housed there.  We just got some details about the apartment: it has three bedrooms, two baths, large living room and kitchen, and two patios.

6. Are you scared?

Nope.  Well, only a little.

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Teaching overseas

Almost as soon as we got back from the job fair, Andreas and I started fielding queries from curious colleagues about how to land an overseas teaching job.  It’s hard to say whether this is because these teachers have (like us) long nurtured dreams of working overseas, or whether the depressed and depressing state of public education is pushing them over the edge.  Maybe it’s a little of both.

We had so many educators asking us for information that I put together a short “getting started” for anyone who’s interested.  It shows up as a link at the top of this blog’s home page. We are hardly experts – we’ve met international teachers who have seen the world through careers that have taken them to schools all over the globe.  But we learned a tremendous amount through our first experience with the application process and we’re happy to share our new knowledge with other first-timers.

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First, let’s buy a load of books

Whenever I’m about to embark on a new project of any kind, my first impulse is to get on Amazon and buy a bunch of books about it.  Making tamales?  Raising chickens?  Shooting an animated movie? Moving to Syria? These all sound to me like ideal opportunities to expand the Dewey numbers of my personal library.

Superlibrarian, shamelessly lifted from the cover of This Book is Overdue by Marilyn Johnson

With the appropriate reference materials in my possession, I’m ready to face whatever comes my way.  Knowledge is power, you know.

And yes, I do catalog my home books.  I recommend LibraryThing for anyone who might be similarly inclined.

I’m trying to cut back on the book habit.  One consideration is the 1200-pound limit for our personal belongings (that’s for all three of us.)  Books are heavy.  I’m loading up the Kindle with enough great literature to last a couple of years, but the format is a lot better for text than  pictures, and also it’s black and white. So I’m still going with paper for most guidebooks and cookbooks.

This is the Syria collection.

Syria and Middle East books

There are three additional titles on my Kindle: Culture Smart! Syria, the King James Bible, and the one I’m most looking forward to reading, The Other Side of the Mirror: An American Travels in Syria.  I learned of the existence of Brooke Allen’s new book through this article in the New York Review of Books (not exactly a review, but it’s got some good background information).  And for Alekka I got a pretty illustrated copy of Arabian Nights.

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Siberia?

When Alekka told the kids at her school she was moving to Syria, some of them weren’t  too clear on the geography.  “You’re moving to Siberia?” It drove her nuts for a little while, but that’s middle school for you. Now everybody’s heard of Syria, and we almost wish they hadn’t.

I had to look at a map myself when I got the interview invitation in my mail folder at the job fair.  Here’s a visual aid  so you can picture just where this place is.

It’s about the same size as North Dakota.

One place Syria is not, is Arabia.  The Arabian Peninsula is south and east of Syria, below Jordan and Iraq.

But I still think Lorna of Arabia works because most of the swashbuckling stuff T.E. Lawrence (aka Lawrence of Arabia) is famous for happened in what are now Jordan and Syria.  He was a commander in the British and Arab forces that liberated Damascus from the Ottomans in WWI.  And he was pretty cool.  More about him another day.

The Middle East

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The road to Damascus

… has been a little rocky, and we haven’t even left Medford yet.

Andreas and I went to an international teaching jobs fair in San Francisco in February.  We came away thrilled to have accepted positions at an American school in the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world: Damascus, Syria.  Sure, there was trouble in Egypt and some other neighboring countries, but Syria was a model of stability in the region.  We assured our nervous friends and family that Syria was as safe as houses.

By the third week in March, when we were in southern California for our annual visit with Andreas’s family, my brother-in-law George was delivering LA Times news clippings about Syrian protests every morning with our eggs and toast.  Thanks, brother, we said with a smile.  It’s just a blip on the screen.

Where we’ll be headed in August.

But then that blip got bigger, and we flinched.  We pursued a possibility in Bangkok, but to make a long story short, in the end Thailand didn’t feel right for us.

Perversely, Damascus still does.  So we’re on.  As long as the school is planning to open, we plan to be there.

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