The return to work

Today was a significant day in my life. After 7 1/2 months of full-time mothering, I went back to work.

I wasn't really worried about Caleb - I knew he was in good hands with my sister. I was worried about me. I have found myself missing Caleb while he napped. For an hour. In the same room as me! And now I'm going to leave him for 6 hours a day. Five days a week.

Here's the problem:

I don't want to miss anything. I want to experience all of Caleb's firsts, along with his seconds and thirds. I want to be acutely aware of how many vegetable and fruit cubes he eats in a day. I want to track the frequency of his poopy diapers and rejoice with each one. (Yes, we really do get excited when our son poos.) I want to help him get out the gas that causes his little tummy pain. I want to discover the new things that make him laugh this week. I want to choose which little outfit to dress him in today. I want to be the first one he sees when he awakes from his nap. I want to rock him when he needs a little extra love. In essence, I want to be there.

But I also want to work. I want to see my colleagues on a daily basis. I want to have conversations that don't revolve around teething and developmental markers. I want to have a schedule that forces me to leave the house each day. I want to make a contribution to an institution involved in educating the Qatari workforce. I want to participate in the events Darren has been recounting to me when he comes home from work. I want to be intellectually stimulated and professionally challenged.

I want it all.

I can't have it all.

So I settle for having most of it.

I realize that each decision comes with sacrifices. I have chosen to go back to work. While I don't yet regret this decision, I also don't yet realize the extent of the sacrifice that accompanies it.

Today was ok. I savoured Caleb's morning cute time before leaving, and gave him my rapt attention when I got home. I am sure the next few weeks will be spent putting systems into place to streamline necessary tasks in order to squeeze every last drop of family time out of the day. But tonight I can go to bed knowing that I survived this significant day, with only a few tears in the car, and hope that the sacrifice is worth it.

Grow, baby, grow! (but not too much)

When your baby is born prematurely, much of your thoughts revolve around his weight. When his newborn clothes start to fit, there is much excitement. When the first sleepers have to be retired because they have become too small, you feel proud of your little grower. When you stop rolling down the front of his newborn diapers, you can't help but tell your family. And when your baby starts wearing size 2 diapers, your heart does a little dance. But as the trend continues, you start to wish, like every other parent has, that he will slow down!

1 week

13 weeks

On becoming a mother

Becoming a parent profoundly changes your life. Everyone says it, but you have to experience it for yourself to understand.

Just over 3 months ago, our lives changed profoundly. The fact that our baby was born almost 6 weeks early had nothing to do with it. Even if we had felt ready for our baby's arrival, we still would have had no idea what was in store for us.

The first few days after Caleb's birth are a blur, but I do remember they were the hardest days of my life. All of a sudden we were responsible for the tiniest, most helpless thing we'd ever encountered. We worried that he wasn't eating enough, we worried that he was too hot or cold, we worried that we were weren't worrying about the right things.

The panic we felt the first night gradually disappeared as we gained confidence and familiarity with our son. Soon we were able to look at our sleeping baby and feel a peaceful sense of joy, although the anxiety still rears its ugly head often enough!

As I think back on my initiation into motherhood, I realize I have learned much. First, I have learned about love. I thought I would naturally experience a love for my child that superseded all my desires. I thought I would gladly set aside my selfish thoughts when I met Caleb. I also thought that the moment I became a mother I would automatically desire his well being over my own. While I did love him from before he was even born, the sacrificial part was not easy for me. I had to choose to give up hours of beloved sleep so my baby would be well nourished and I had to choose to endure overwhelming pain in the initial stages of breastfeeding so my baby would get the benefits of his mother's milk. It wasn't easy for me to make these decisions - I had to remind myself of the reason: this child whom I love.

I have also learned about community. In the beginning I lamented that "my community" wasn't here. We spoke on the phone with family and good friends in Canada but I longed to really share this experience with them, and lean on them for support. I have since realized that in longing for my far off support, I failed to appreciate the support I have in Doha, and I missed opportunities to create a deeper community here. When I think of the people who stopped by in the first few weeks, the colleagues who sent gifts for Caleb home with Darren, the ladies who attended my surprise shower, the new moms who share their experiences in response to my questions, and mostly the individuals who went out of their way to help us, I feel blessed. I still miss my people back home, and I will continue to maintain those relationships, but I've gained a new appreciation for what I have and can develop here.

Finally, I've learned about partnership. I have a new-found deep respect for single parents. I don't know how I would have coped with everything if it weren't for Darren. I feed the baby, he burps him. I wash the laundry, he hangs it to dry. I load the dishwasher, he unloads it. But partnership is more than sharing the workload. Darren and I are Caleb's parents, and the job of raising him is ours. When we're tired and frustrated, we can encourage each other. When something goes wrong, we can find a solution together. When there's a hard parenting decision to be made, we can make it together. When I consider the road ahead, with all its inevitable ups and downs, I'm extremely grateful to know we will travel it together.

Darren and I love our son so much. We spend hours each week just watching him. We feel so glad that he is ours and we don't ever have to give him back. We're not naive; we understand the weight of the responsibility of raising him. But we are honoured to have been given this responsibility, and pray we won't screw it up too badly. :)

Where I live

Sometimes I'm surprised by how much this country has become home. Most recently it happened when I came across a promotional video created for the FIFA 2022 World Cup bid. Throughout the video I saw places and activities that we've visited, observed, and participated in. But it was more than just a sense of familiarity that I felt; there was also a slight twinge of national pride (oddly enough).



Then I watched this video and got a little emotional.



There's something about Qatar. Sure, there are things I do not identify with or understand, there are features of life here I would like to change, and there are aspects of my original home that I would like to add. But for now, at least, this place is home...and I'm glad!

Sitting

Darren and I spend a lot of time sitting on our sofa. It seems our sofa has become the centre of our home, or at least the area we gravitated to when it's time to be together. While sitting on this sofa, sometimes we're eating dinner, sometimes we're watching a movie or television episode, sometimes we're playing Wii, sometimes we're listening to a podcast, sometimes we're reading, sometimes we're talking, and sometimes we're just sitting...together.

Every now and then, while sitting on the sofa, I'll reach over, grab Darren's hand and place it on my expanding stomach. Generally, at this point Bumpkin stops moving around, but every now and then Darren gets to feel a little kick or roll. Other times, while sitting on the sofa, Darren will spontaneously bend down and gently place a kiss near my belly button, often accompanied by a kind word or two for our little boy. Also on this sofa, out of the blue one of us might say something like "I can't wait to meet him," referring, of course to our still-developing son. Then we'll spend some time imagining our lives in the coming years. It's times like these that I really love our sofa.

There are times when, sitting on this sofa, I feel absolutely content and satisfied. Inevitably, reality hits, but it's much easier to deal with after some time on the sofa with my favourite.

I know our lives will be very different from the time our baby is born until...well...forever. These changes don't usually scare me; on the contrary, I am looking forward to them. We both are curious about our little one (and any siblings he may have in the future). We're excited to watch him grow, develop a personality, put sentences together, become interested in different hobbies, make friends, explore the world, find a girlfriend...the whole thing! I also know life post-Bumpkin will be full of challenging and frustrating times. But hopefully the most difficult of those times will come after having had some time sitting with my Darren on our sofa.

As an aside...
I have no idea what heaven is like, but I suspect it involves a feeling like I get sometimes on my sofa. And that makes me smile.

The challenge of children

I read this post today from a blog called 22 Words entitled "You've already donated, so now donate some more: The loving logic of a 5-year-old":

Me: We already sent some money.
Orison: I wanna send more.
Me: How much?
Orison: 52
Me: OK.
And so we did.

Reading this makes me excited and nervous about having kids. I hope we are challenged by them, and that we respond well to the challenges.

Questions

In my day-to-day living, I avoid over-exposure to the news. I find all-day news channels tend to ruminate on and sensationalize stories in order to fill up their 24 hours of coverage, and that frustrates me. As a result, I found out about the recent earthquake in Haiti via facebook status updates. I logged in to see if any of my friends were around for a chat, and discovered that one of the poorest countries in the world had been further devastated.

The few images from Haiti that I've seen remind me of the brevity of life, the fragility of our planet, the imbalance of power and wealth across our globe, and the insignificance of my own existance. All over the world there are people involved in a real struggle for survival while my husband and I contemplate the pros and cons of epidurals in childbirth from the safety and comfort of our lovely home.

The following questions were heard in our villa in the past few hours: "Do you want to see a movie this weekend? Why don't we order pizza for dinner tonight? I'm a little tired; do you mind going to the event at our friends' place alone this evening? What time should I call the driver to come and pick us up? Shall we watch an episode of our show or play a game until you have to head out?" I'm trying to imagine someone whose loved ones were just killed, whose home was just destroyed, whose stomach is growling, and whose head is bleeding listening to our conversations. Would his reaction be disbelief? envy? anger? confusion?

Perhaps more importantly, what is *my* reaction?

Car shopping

So we've decided we're buying a car. Not tomorrow; we're probably about 6 weeks away from having enough money to actually make the purchase. But the decision has been made and the research has begun.

I have VERY mixed feelings about the whole thing. These feelings range from guilt to sadness to concern to a sense of freedom. Guilt because I don't want to add another car to the already-overfilled roads in Doha, nor do I want to increase the CO2 emission level if only slightly. Sadness for the loss of carpooling opportunities. I've enjoyed getting to know some of the regular drivers we call as well as developing the humility involved in asking for a ride. Concern because Qatari roads are not a safe place. Every time we get into a car, I feel that we're taking our lives into our hands...and that's with experienced drivers! And freedom because having a car will increase our independence. Being dependent on drivers and public transportation has been a very good experience, but it is definitely less convenient...especially with an infant.

Now that we've decided to buy a car, the question becomes which one? We have already spent hours in contemplation, and while we're nearing a model, the discussions continue. The problem is that we want our decision to be consistent with seemingly conflicting values we hold.

The first is living minimally. Darren and I are committed to living within our means at the very least, but desire to increasingly live below our means. It's something of a struggle as society is built around materialism and greed, but something we strive for.

Another value we hold is living relationally. This is a big struggle for two people who are content to sit at home most of the time. But we want to develop relationships with others. We long to be part of a healthy community of people who do life together. We talk often of steps we're going to take to realize these dreams, and though we often fail it is something we truly value.

Third, we value living healthily. We want to continue to grow into physically, spiritually, mentally and emotionally healthy people, individually and as a couple. Again, lots of times we fall into unhealthy habits, but that doesn't negate the value, it simply causes us to review and regroup.

So, what kind of car does a couple holding these values choose? That's where it gets interesting. The minimalist would not buy a car at all, but let's say he has no choice. In this case, he would select an efficient compact vehicle, like a hatchback, for example. The relational person narrows his selection to a vehicle that can accommodate all the people he plans to transport, like a mini van. The health-buff might end up with a wise choice for his family, environment and (active) lifestyle, like a mid-size hybrid. Someone who holds all three values chooses... (this is where you give me your suggestions!)

New Year's Resolutions

I'm not one for New Year's resolutions. I find them trite and forced. I always think that if a person really wants to change something, he will do it - whether it is January 1st, April 18th or October 26th.

Having said that, I really enjoy stepping back at the end of a year and reviewing it. That's why I've taken to writing electronic Christmas letters, even though most of the people who receive them find little novel information. Sorry folks, it's really for me: I like to take stock of my year and have a record of that stock-taking, partly for posterity, and partly as a good mental exercise.

The process of writing this year's Christmas letter revealed that 2009 was a year of doing. As you can see in the previous post, Darren and I did a lot of stuff during our first full year in Qatar. The combination of a steady income and a significant amount of free time, paired with our excitement of living in a new place, caused us to explore places we'd never dreamed of. We really did try to make the most of living abroad and the change in lifestyle it provided for us. And I think we succeeded.

But that was last year. I hope that when I sit down in December to review this year, I'll find that 2010 was a year of becoming. At the most basic level, this year I'm going to become a mother, but beyond that, there are many things I want to become. I want to become more generous, loving, and compassionate. I want to become a better friend, wife, and family member. I want to become more intentional in my decisions, thoughts, and with my time.

I don't expect to become all these things in 2010. Nor are these new ambitions, arbitrarily chosen so I'll have an answer when someone asks me what my New Year's resolution(s) is (are). These are things Darren and I have been talking about and slowly working on for about 3 years now. What may be different in 2010 is that we are intentionally going to do less, hopefully leaving more time for becoming.

I realize this becoming will have to take place between things like middle of the night feedings, post-partum hormonal changes, comforting a colicky child, etc. But part of me wonders if the becoming may happen because of them. I'll let you know in about 11 months.

Conley Christmas Update: 2009 in Review

As 2009 draws to a close we wanted to take some time to wish you a wonderful holiday season, to reflect on the year’s highlights, and to keep you apprised of the ongoing adventures of Darren and Larissa.

2009 was a year of settling in and feeling comfortable in our new country of residence.Although we moved to Qatar in August 2008, it took us a while to start feeling like we were at home there. Once the cooler weather came, we spent more time exploring Qatar. We familiarized ourselves with most of the restaurants and shops in our neighbourhood, as well as in the Souq, or traditional market. We also got out of the city for outings that included digging desert roses (rock formations) in the middle of nowhere and renting a 4-wheel drive vehicle to explore the country outside of Doha. We really felt like we’d made Doha home while showing the sights to Darren’s parents who visited for a week in April. We had a great time hosting them and would love to do it again for anyone who wants to visit the Middle East!

We both settled into our jobs this year as well. Darren started his Qatari teaching career in January by teaching two classes of male students who are trainees of Qatar Petroleum. Since then he has continued to teach these QP trainees and has also taken on audio recording responsibilities at the college. Larissa spent most of the year outside of the classroom working on various curriculum-related projects, and has enjoyed the change of pace at work. Perhaps the greatest evidence of our feeling of being settled into our new teaching environment is the well-received presentation we gave at TESL Ontario in Toronto this December in which we discussed some of the challenges and rewards of teaching Arab and Muslim students.

When we think back on 2009 we might also classify it as the year of traveling. In March we spent a weekend in Dubai, and another one in Kuwait. In April we traveled all around Jordan. And when the summer came we visited family and friends in Zambia and various parts of Ontario. Then in the fall we were off for a week in Prague. We feel really blessed to have been able to see so many different areas of our world this past year. Each destination introduced us to new experiences, sights, people, and ideas, and we’re grateful for each of them.

In 2009 we also developed a new appreciation for relationships. We were able to reconnect with some old friends through our travels and via the Internet. We also got to visit with good friends in Ontario while we were “home” in the summer and at Christmastime. In addition, we met interesting people with whom we hope to keep in touch in Prague and Zambia. And of course we continue to get to know our new friends in Doha better.

The most difficult part of living abroad for us is being away from our close friends and family. We’ve learned to appreciate our valued relationships and while we hope to develop similar friendships in Qatar, we’ve also renewed our desire to maintain our ties to our “kindred spirits” back in Canada.

2009 was also a year of creative exploration. Larissa tried her hand at silk painting, Palestinian embroidery, pottery, and belly dancing. While not naturally talented at any particular one, she enjoyed experimenting with each of these art forms. Darren took a short course in Adobe Flash and spent countless hours designing and re-designing his website www.shirtbug.net. Designing t-shirts has provided a good creative outlet for Darren, even if it may never become a source of income.

One last thing that 2009 will be remembered as being is a year of preparing for change. While on summer vacation in Canada we found out that we’re expecting our first child in April. We’re thrilled and nervous and really have no idea how different 2010 will be. Through doctors’ appointments, research (i.e. reading books, talking to people with children, etc.), and Larissa joining an ex-pat mum’s group in Doha, we’re trying to prepare as much as we can for this drastic change in our lives. We also moved from our apartment to a 3-bedroom villa on a compound in order to surround ourselves with other parents and children. We’re looking forward to how we will grow as a family over the coming years.

So, it’s been a full and wonderful year. We hope your 2009 was something worth remembering, as well. Thanks for joining us on our journey. We truly are more thankful than ever for each of our family members and friends.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Love,
Darren, Larissa & Baby Conley

Christmas Theme Songs

Sometimes things are made better by having a theme song. Television shows, for example, are often tied to the theme songs. Just hearing the first few notes of the introductory song of a series I used ot watch brings back (usually) fond memories of days gone by.

Events are the same way. Imagine the 1998 FIFA world cup without Ricky Martin's Cup of life! I'm not a hockey fan but even I know about the uprising over the Hockey Night in Canada theme song.

Since music is a huge part of Christmas, it seems fairly appropriate for it to be accompanied with a theme song. I'm not talking about a worldwide theme; I'm talking about a song that sums up one's emotional/physical/spiritual state at a particular moment in time. This kind of theme song usually appears unexpectedly and just "clicks". Last Christmas I came across a song that resonated with the place in life Darren and I were at that time.

It was the first year we were both away from our families and traditions at Christmas. Graciously, my long-lost friends welcomed us into their home in Turkey for the holidays so we were not all alone. But it was actually a very nice break that allowed us to contemplate the rituals of the season from a distance. Anyway, this song became my unofficial theme song of Christmas 2008:



This year I've also got a theme song:




The fact that each of these songs come from the same album is not so much coincidental as circumstantial. We only have two Christmas albums here in Qatar (both purchaed from iTunes last November): one by Sarah McLachlan and the other by Sixpence None the Richer. If I want to continue to find theme songs for each year, I guess that means broadening our Christmas playlist next year. Or maybe next year will be a themeless Christmas. Either way, I'll always associate these two songs with our first and second Christmasses in Doha.

The Big Move

Well, we've moved out of our fabulous apartment and into a villa. It's been over a month now and it finally feels like home.

Al Jazeera 1 Compound, Villa 53 - Home Sweet Home

When people heard we'd decided to move, many assumed it was for more space, with the impending growth of our family. But it actually was not. We were very content in our 3 bedroom apartment. We would have had room for Bumpkin and a guest to live comfortably. The villa is actually too big for the two of us, with one living room, one bedroom one bathroom and one flight of stairs too many. :)

Two living rooms is one living room too many

Ok, so if not for the space, certainly we moved for the ammenities. The compound has a swimming pool, clubhouse for gatherings, small gym and parks with swings and slides. But even that - while very nice! - wasn't enough to encourage us to relocate. Our apartment building just got some gym equipment, we made the roof into a gathering place, and there's a pool we can use on campus.

Lovely pool a stone's throw from our front door

So then we must have moved for the location. Well, we actually miss our old neighbourhood. True, the compound is much closer to work - we've cut our daily commute down to 10 minutes from 30 - but it's farther from everything else. We can no longer walk to restaurants and stores or hail a cab on the street. There is a small convenience store on the compound, though, which stocks all the basics plus a bit more, and Darren has crossed the 4-lane highway on foot to get groceries at the nearby Lulu Hypermarket. But it's not the same.

The convenience store whose laundry service and constant supply of granola bars makes the lack of walkable shops bearable

Why, then, did we change accommodations? It was all about community. The college places its employees in villa or apartments based on family status. Couples with children live in the compounds, singles and couples without children live in the apartments. Darren and I decided it would be good for us to surounded ourselves with other parents and children - especially babies, and especially when I'm on maternity leave.

The decision wasn't easy, however. There was somthing about the Al Sadd (the name of our apartment building) crowd. With a few exceptions, we all arrived at the same time. We were new together - sharing information about where to find queen sized sheets that don't feel like sand paper, reporting on a fabulous restaurant we'd discovered on a walk, pitching in to make the rooftop a place worthy of hosting parties. I think the original compound people probably had that, too - but now we're new and they're not. They have a bond among themselves like the one we feel for our Al Sadd neighbours. That's not to say they're not welcoming and friendly; we just haven't become one of them yet.

Hopefully by the time Bumpkin arrives we'll have met and become friends with other people with young children. There are babies being born in Doha every day so ours shouldn't be in want for friends. But for now we are working on starting conversations with people on the work shuttle bus and are planning a small housewarming gathering during the Eid break. And continuing to settle into our new place.

Family

Editor’s Note: I found this almost-written, unposted post in my blogger account today under the date of August 1, 2009. Since I haven’t gotten around to writing about our summer travels yet, I thought I’d post this one. Since it was written, however, the fourth Dewbury baby has been born: Ethan. He’s as adorable and loved as his older siblings.

Living in different country from your family makes visits extra special. The reason we went to Zambia in the first place was to spend some time with my sister Alicia and her family this summer, since they were planning on being there during our entire visit to Canada. She and Ben have 3 incredible children (and a fourth on the way!) who enjoyed showing us all around the various parts of Zambia that they've become so familiar with.

Alex, who decided she would go by the name Alexa while in Zambia, is our oldest niece. She joined the grade three class at the base school where she was thriving. School ran from about 8:30 until 1:00, and she would spend the afternoons doing homework and playing with her friends. On week days, we wouldn't see her from the time we dropped her off at the base until the ride back to the guest house.


We got to see more of Levi, our six-year-old nephew. Although he completed kindergarten in Alberta, it wasn't recommended that he join the grade 1 class at the base. So he would attend preschool on the days that Alicia volunteered there, and the other days he would roam around, hanging out with his adult friends and entertaining himself.

Avery, whom we hadn't seen since she was 6 months old, turned two in Zambia, so it was like we were meeting her for the first time. We loved learning to decipher her words and laughing at her mannerisms. Unfortunately she was suffering from the lingering effects of a parasite, but overall she was happy and bubbly and extremely entertaining!


Some of our most memorable moments in Zambia were related to these kids:

• Having learned that geckos who lose their tails will grow new ones, Levi decided to conduct an experiment. He cut the tail off a gecko with a stick. When we asked him why he did it, he said, "I wanted to see if it would grow another gecko."



• One evening Alicia and Avery were singing. We went through a couple of songs and then the grownups couldn't think of any more songs. So Alicia asked Avery what song she wanted to sing and she suggested "Twinkle". After signing Twinkle, the question was posed again. The response was “Twinkle”. When Alicia said to choose a *different* song, Avery cocked her head to the side, put a finger to her mouth, looked at the ceiling (as if she were thinking really hard) and said, “Ummmmmmmmmm…Twinkle!”



• At least 2 of the kids’ birthdays fell during the time the family was in Zambia. On their birthdays, the people at the guest house made a special cake for them to celebrate. Uncle Darren’s 34th birthday also happened to occur while we were there. Levi found out about this and made Darren a birthday card with his grownup friend Anine – incidentally the only present Darren received this year! Levi also announced at breakfast, “Today is Uncle Darren’s birthday! He’s 43!” and then turned a bright red with embarrassment when we laughed and said, “No, no, he’s only 34!” The embarrassment didn’t last for long because Levi sensed an opportunity and replied, “Uncle Darren, if you tell them it’s your birthday they’ll make you a cake,” not realizing that was something special they only did for kids.

When we weren't enjoying our family, we got to know and tried to help out the other folks who live on the base and work for Foundations for Cross-Cultural Education (FCE). Darren spent most of his days painting with Ben and I helped out at the preschool whenever Alicia was scheduled to work there. We learned about sustainable development in Zambia thorugh our visits at "the farm" and about hospitality from the folks at the guest house. Before meeting up with our family and FCE, Darren and I enjoyed the wild, touristy aspects of Zambia, which was also interesting.

It was definitely a valuable three weeks of our lives, and included the greatest range of experiences we could think of: adventure, education, service and relationship-building.

The making of Sports Roundabout

This past weekend was Hallowe'en, and like good Canadian expatriates, we celebrated it here in Doha. There were more than enough Hallowe'en parties to choose from - there were colleagues of mine in attendance at a minimum of 4 different celebrations around the city over the weekend.

Darren and I chose to participate in a free Hallowe'en bash hosted by some of our colleagues on the rooftop of their accommodation. The event was characterized by a wide veriety of people, great conversation, lots of laughs and most importantly some fantastic costumes.

My favourite costumes were the Doha-specific ones. One couple came dressed as a camel jockey and owner - the owner was driving a cardboard Land Cruiser equipped with working headlights! Another man, my favourite person at the whole party incidentally, came as a local landmark - Sports Roundabout. He was very proud of his creativity and handiwork, and I thought I'd share it with both of my readers. So may I present "The Making of Sports Roundabout."

First of all, let us clarify what exactly a roundabout is. People who have driven in Europe are familiar with the idea, but it's a new concept for many North Americans. According to the website Driving in Ireland,

A roundabout or rotary is a type of road junction (or traffic calming device) at which traffic streams around a central island, after first yielding (giving way) to the circulating traffic. Roundabouts are statistically safer than both traffic circles and traditional intersections, though they do not cope as well with the traffic on motorways or similar fast roads.

See the diagram below:


Ok, so that's a roundabout, but what about Sports Roundabout? Well, in Doha street names are generally not known, so landmarks are used for giving directions. For example, we just moved from an apartment between Al Sadd and Al Nasr streets (2 well-known roads), close to the Red Dragon Chinese Massage place and attached to the Qatar Airways accommodation. Even with that description, our pizza often arrived only after 3 phone calls from the driver asking for more directions.

Many of the roundabouts have features that have become landmarks. Some key ones are Television roundabout (near the Al Jazeera Broadcasting Company), Immigration roundabout (near the Immigration department), Decoration roundabout (near a decorating/furniture store), Mall roundabout (near the mall named "The Mall") and Burger King roundabout (near - you guessed it - a Burger King restaurant). Sports roundabout is named for the tower erected in the middle of it, depicting athletes involved in different sports - a remnant of/tribute to the Asian Games held here 3 years ago.


Ok, enough background. On to the costume!

One day last week after work, Darren went to Toys R Us and picked up some toy cars. Then Friday morning he cut a cardboard box into an oval, measuring it to his waistline with makeshift tools, covered it with black bristol board and painted white lines on it. (There are no pictures of those steps for 2 reasons -- 1. I was not feeling well and decided to nap the sick away, and 2. Darren wasn't really dressed for that part of the project. It was Friday morning, remember!)


Anyway, after the paint had dried, Darren taped the cars in place with masking tape, since our crazy glue had dried up since its last use.



I participated, too - taping the traffic cones to the "construction site" at the back of the roundabout. I think Darren ran out of bristol board, but it's actually not surprising for a random section of the road to be missing around these parts!


And here's the Sports Roundabout, looking so proud of his creation.


At the party everyone knew right away he was a roundabout, but it took some prompting for many people to figure out which one. I thought the knee pads were a dead giveaway!


So there you have it, Hallowe'en Doha-style. Stay tuned next year for the local cultural reference we use as inspiration for Bumpkin's costume!

Baby Questions

I really do want to write posts about our summer adventures as well as our trip to Prague. Really, I do. And I will. But I'm finding myself a little distracted these days. And nauseous. And tired. And pregnant.

That's right: Darren and I are expecting our first child early in April. We're looking forward to the joys and challenges this addition to our family will bring. We're also nervous, but that's normal, right?

We just started sharing the news this past week. It was pretty easy to keep it a secret because I'm not showing. But now that the college is offering us a villa (in place of our current fabulous apartment), and encouraging us to move right away, it seems as though there will be no more secret keeping. That's ok, I guess. People were bound to find out eventually!

Once people find out, they start asking questions. I appreciate the questions, but would rather not have to type answers to them dozens of times (a major pitfall of using the Internet as your main source of communication with family and friends). So I've compiled some answers to the most-asked questions.

• When are you due?
  April 6. Or April 12. I've been told both, but am holding on to the first one. Sooner is better!
  
  


• How are you feeling?
  Well, I can't say that these past few months have been a walk in the park, but I haven't had to take a sick day, either! If I don't eat something every few hours the nausea comes rushing in. Also, I'm having strong negative reactions to Darren's smells (hair gel, deodorant, etc.) Oh, and I'm tired all the time. Usual preganancy stuff.
  
  


• Are you having any cravings?
  Not really, except maybe apple juice. Oh, how I love apple juice! :) Also, I've wanted to drink milk a few times, which I haven't done in years! I do eat a lot of crackers, but not because I crave them, just because they make my tummy feel a little better.
  
  


• Did you know when you were in Canada and not tell anyone?
  Yeah, we did, but we wanted to keep it to ourselves until we had seen a doctor and knew things were looking good. You understand!
  
  


• Will you come home to deliver?
  Nope, we're going to have the baby right here. Our doctor is from Germany and he's a specialist in at-risk pregnancies, which means he should be a true genius at normal pregnancies/deliveries. The hospital I'll deliver at is like a 5-star hotel; much nicer than we'd get in Canada!
  
  


• Will your baby be a Qatari citizen?
  No. The only way to become a Qatari citizen is to be born to a Qatari mom and dad. Actually, our baby will not be a citizen of anywhere until we apply for Canadian citizenship. The process is a little complicated since the nearest Canadian embassy is in Kuwait, but hopefully we'll have a passport for baby Conley before it's time for us to come to Canada for summer vacation (mid-July).
  
  


• Do you have any names picked out?
  Honestly, no, and it's not for lack of trying. For years (long before we seriously considered having children) Darren and I have been watching movie credits in search of names we both like. No success yet. We're calling the baby "Bumpkin" in the meantime.
  
  


• Is it a boy or a girl? Or don't you want to know?
  We don't know, but we do want to. I don't think we'll know until November at the earliest, and then only if Bumpkin cooperates with the doctor and the ultrasound machine. My sister Alicia is wishing for a boy cousin for her newest child, though. I'm not sure which I'd pick if I could.
  
  


• What about work?
  Because of my residency status, I am eligible for up to 1 year of unpaid leave. The plan at this moment is to work as late as I can (probably the last week of March) and then take off 5 1/2 months, returning to work at the beginning of the fall semseter.
  
  


• Are you going to post pictures of your baby bump?
  Well, if I had one, then maybe. I'm not really showing much yet. We'll see.
  


• Who is going to watch the baby when you go back to work?
  We will look into the various options as the time gets closer. There are lots of nannies in Doha, so that's a possibility. There are also nursery programs for children as young as 11 months old. We also have a spare room in our villa if you'd like to come and take care of Bumpkin for a few weeks or months!
  
  


• Did you say villa? I thought you lived in an apartment.
  Families get first dibs at villas, so once we told HR we were expecting, they put us on the top of the list to get a villa. We were thinking we'd move in January or Febrauary, but it looks like they want us out of our apartment in the next few weeks. So we have a lot of packing to do!
  
  


• Can you get baby stuff in Qatar?
  Yes, there are baby shops that stock everything from onesies to strollers to baby on board signs. Everyone says baby things are way more expensive here than at home, though. Fortunately people are always leaving and selling their stuff so we're hoping to score some used baby gear at reasonable prices - espeically the stuff we don't need for a while yet like a high chair.
  
  


• Are you excited?
  Yes, we are. We're also a little overwhelmed, but definitely excited. I suspect both emotions will get more intense as the months roll by.

Year Two

Well, here we are, back in Doha for another year. It's amazing how different year two is from year one. My initial reaction upon returning to Doha was this: it is so nice not to be new.

I listen to the discussions the newcomers have on the bus and it's like déjà vu. They're finding their way around the city, exploring the neighbourhood, setting up their apartments, adjusting to the climate, learning the ins and outs of their new jobs, dealing with residency bureaucracy….

For them, coming to Doha was embarking on a new adventure. For me this year, it was coming home.

Home is good. Home is comforting. Home is familiar. But home is not necessarily exciting. That's the biggest difference I've noticed; things aren't 'new' anymore, and as a result, small things lose some of their appeal.

This is a trade-off I'm willing to make. I'm happy to give up a bit of excitement for a bit of familiarity, at least right now. But already I anticipate the pull to go somewhere else, starting over in a new environment. Settling somewhere completely new is incredibly stressful, but also incredibly satisfying.

But for now we're here in Doha, living our lives in this familiarly foreign environment.

Smalltown Vermont (or Ontario, or Alberta, or...)

This week I read a Jamaica Kincaid's Among Flowers, the story of her seed-collection trip to the Himilaya mountains. I'm not sure why I signed it out of the school library; I care very little about botany and I'd never heard of Ms. Kincaid. But I soon discovered I appreciated and even identified with some of her insights into both the journey and life in general.

I wanted to share with you a short passage from the beginning of the story, before she set out on the challenging journey in the Himalaya. It contains a sense of the perspective I so often lose, but suspect I will experience in full next week when I arrive in Luanshya, Zambia.

Here I was in a village in the foothills of the Himalaya. I could still remember the feeling of living in a village in the mountains of Vermont. I could remember that when I spoke, everybody I knew, everybody I was talking to, understood me quite well. I could remember the school building in my village, a nice, very big red brick building that was properly ventilated and properly heated and had all sots of necessities and comforts, and yet I had found much fault with it and had refused to send my children to school there. I could remember the firehouse just down the hill from where I live and the kind people who volunteer their life to taking care of it and rescuing me if I should need rescuing. I could remember my house with its convenient and fantastic plumbing and water to be had any time I needed it, just by opening the tap in my fantastically equipped kitchen. I could remember my doctor, a man named Henry Lodge, who I often believe exists solely to reassure me that I am not about to drop dead from some imagined catastrophic illness. I could still remember my supermarket, The Price Chopper, overflowing with fruits and vegetables from Florida, California, or Chile, just so I could choose to buy or not buy, strawberries for instance, in summer, winter, any time I liked.
Jamaica Kincaid, Among Flowers, pp. 24-25.

Anticipation and Excitement

The countdown is on! 6 more days and we'll be on our way to visit Alicia and family in Luanshya, Zambia (via Dubai, Johannesburg, and Livingstone). Two weeks after that, we'll come back to Doha to repack and then fly to Ontario to visit our friends and family there for about 4 weeks.

None of this seemed real to me until yesterday. I've finally completed all my thought-consuming work at work; I still have some administrative tasks to take care of, but I've completed my major projects for the semester. Even though Darren and I had been making plans with people in both Zambia and Ontario, until I had submitted my final revisions, I was unable to truly comprehend that we were going. This is always the case with me. I wonder if this is something that is universal among humans, or only humans of a particular neurological or emotional type.

Anyway, now I'm in "getting ready for vacation" mode. Yesterday I got vaccinated against typhoid, and Darren got a yellow fever shot. We also purchased the things Alicia asked us to bring to her in Zambia: diapers and Tostitos. :) I began setting aside things I want packed on the spare room bed. (Darren is the family packer; I just gather the items and he arranges them nicely in the luggage). We're steadily checking things off the to do list. And we're getting excited.

Today at lunch Darren said he was more excited about going to Ontario than Zambia. I had to agree with him. It's not that we are NOT looking forward to visiting Africa (I apologize for the double negative there); we simply can anticipate the Canadian part of our summer more. We know what we're excited to do and we've a list of people we're excited to see once we get to Ontario. Everything about Zambia is unknown, except that my family will be there.

It's hard to get excited without anticipation, and it's hard to anticipate when you have very little sense of what will be. But I know it will be an enriching (and, I hope, life changing) experience which I look forward to sharing upon arrival in Canada.

But for now we continue with the preparations...oh, and a few more days of work.

Slumdog Millionaire vs. Q&A

I just finished reading Q&A by Vikas Swarup. The cover calls it "the inspiration for the major motion picture Slumdog Millionaire". When I first picked up the book I wondered at the wording of that claim; books usually say "Now a major motion picture" or something along those lines. However, in this case, nothing else would have been accurate. Q&A was indeed simply the inspiration for Slumdog Millionaire.

The book had the same feel as the movie but it was a completely different story. Only one of the questions in the game show was the same, and only 4 of the characters introduced in the film showed up in the novel (the game show host, the inspector at the beginning, Maman, and of course, the slumdog himself).

In the book, the main character's name is not Jamal. He has no brother. He does not tell his story to a police officer. He doesn't work as a chai wallah. He does not win a measly 20 000 000 rupees. He doesn't get the signature of a famous actor. He does not fall in love with a girl as a child. And he does not go on the show to get her attention.

However, there is much that the main character does do in the book. He experiences great joy and sadness. He witnesses atrocities. He lives in fear. He travels about India. He works at various jobs. He breaks the law. He shows compassion. And he falls in love.

It was truly a different story, and yet the same one. I think I liked Vikas Swarup's sequence of events better than those of Simon Beaufoy, the screenwriter, but both stories moved me. It's not often that I can't put a book down. It's less often that I mention how much I'm enjoying a book at each chapter break. So, I guess I liked it!

Intersession Update

There are three semesters (is the number 2 inherent in the word semester?) at the school where Darren and I teach: Fall (August-December), Winter (January-April), and Intersession (May-June or July).

Intersession has been an interesting concept for me to wrap my mind around. Because of the reduced number of weeks, many classes have doubled contact hours in half as many weeks. For example, one colleague is teaching two 2-hour physics lectures a week rather than the two 1-hour physics lectures he teaches in the other terms. Some classes have a few fewer weeks and a few more hours per week. For example, another colleague is teaching 5 hours of math per week instead of the 4 she teaches during the other terms, but for 2-3 fewer weeks. And then there are language classes which have the same number of hours per week, the same number of objectives to meet, and 2-3 fewer weeks to do it in. I'm sure glad I don't have to schedule all this stuff!

So needless to say, things are winding down at work for most people. Language, trades and some math classes continue but students in all other classes are finished for the year. In fact, the graduation ceremony is being held tonight! The campus is emptier and a good number of faculty have the time for that leisurely coffee they've been dreaming about all hectic semester.

Things for the Conleys, however, have been a little busier than usual. Darren had his second routine teaching observation this past Sunday. It went well, but it is a time and energy-consuming process nonetheless. He's also dealing with additional paperwork related to course assignments, and his teaching team is trying to get their final exam put together and approved...all while trying to get through all the objectives and content in a shorter time frame than usual.

I am not teaching this semester, but I've been busy too. There are days when I'm working non-stop from the time I get in until the time I leave to catch the bus in the afternoon - except for the half hour when Darren comes over to my office area for lunch. I've been involved in 3 distinct projects this semester, all of which have been interesting in their own way. Then there's the surprise issues that pop up and my attention is focused elsewhere.

I've enjoyed the diversity in my workload this term, but I've also missed interacting with students. In the fall I'm guaranteed to teach at least one class, which will be nice again. I miss "my boys".

But that's still a while away. We have to finish this semester yet, and then enjoy our summer break. Both Darren and I are looking forward to some time visiting family and friends in Zambia and Ontario. I am especially looking forward to not having conversations like the one we had this morning as we left our building to catch the bus:

L: Hey, it feels pretty cool this morning.
D: Yeah, it's probably only in the low 40s.
L: Or maybe even the high 30s! That would be crazy!
D: Let me check. (runs to the thermometer that sits in the shade by the entrance to our building) Yup, it's cool. Only 38 today!
L: (smiles at the ridiculousness - and truth - of those words) Only 38.

Another of the joys of Intersession. :)

Progress

Our school year is quickly coming to a close. That means Darren and I have been in Doha for about 10 months now. In that time we've noticed a huge change in our neighbourhood.

Readers of Darren's blog may recognize this picture as the view from our bedroom window back in August:


Well, the buldozers and jackhammers involved in the demolition of the previous buildings gave way to the rebar delivery trucks and cement pourers of the consturction phase. Slowly our view of the Aspire tower disappeared as floors were added to the apartment buildings across the street.

When we look out our bedroom window now, this is what we see:


This is the case on two other sides of our building as well. I wonder if we'll even recognize the neighbourhood when we return in late August from our 6-week vacation.

This neighbourhood progress reminds me of how very little in life is static. It's natural; societies, organizations, and individuals are meant to develop. I'd say my personal development these past ten months has rivaled that of the neighbourhood, and that is good. There's nothing like a formidable life change to promote the challenging of one's assumptions and worldviews.

While I hope the construction in our neighbourhood comes to a stop relatively soon, I hope I never become content to stop developing.

My Coasters

Back before Christmas I decided that I wanted to make a mosaic...someday. I didn't have a particular design in mind, or even a place where I wanted it to be displayed; I just knew I wanted to make one.

I have an affinity for mosaics. I think they're so beautiful - especially after seing the incredible mosaics at Hagia Sophia in Istanbul and the spectacular mosaic floors in Madaba, Jordan.

Anyway, back when it was still cool enough outside to go for walks, Darren and I made the twenty-minute trek to Ramada signal where we had dinner at Johnny Rockets and then walked across the street to visit the well-known bookstore, Al Jarir. It was in the craft section there that I spotted a simple way to get my feet wet in the art of mosaic making: a coaster kit.

The kit came with everything I would need to make a set of mosaic coasters: plaster powder, a mould, adhesive, grout powder, tiles, brush and instructions. Excited, when I got home I opened up the kit to read the instructions and get inspired. After taking inventory of the kit's contents I realized that there was no grout included. Disappointed, I put the kit and reciept by the front door intending to return to Al Jarir to exchange kits.

Well, life happens and it was a month later when we finally returned to to the bookstore and got a complete kit. Newly excited, the following weekend I set about the fist step of the process: making the coaster moulds out of plaster.

This was a time consuming process because only one coaster could be made at a time and each had to be left for 1 1/2 hours to set before removing it from the mould in order to work on the next one.


So the following weekend I continued the coaster making process by breaking up the tiles. I put each tile between two pieces of cardboard and hammered it. I found it surprisingly satisfying to be so destructive. I tried to contain all the slivers of tile on the plastic sheet I was working on but I suspect one or two got away. Fortunately Sathi, our Sri Lankan cleaner, comes on Mondays so we only walked on treachrous floor for a couple of days.


After the tiles were broken up, they had to be arranged on the coasters and then glued in place.

The "pattern" the instructions told me to follow on the front of the kit box was a random distribution of the three colours of tiles. I tried to arrange the pieces into a pattern or image of some sort but found it to be too difficult with the quantities of each colour I was working with. So I went with the random pattern, as instructed.


After gluing, I cleaned up my mess, placed the coasters on a small dresser to dry and proceeded to leave them there for about two weeks. The next step was grouting them and this required gloves to protect my hands. I had it in my head that I needed some surgical gloves because they would be tight fitting and allow me to get the grout into the crevices between the tile pieces. But it's hard to buy a single pair of surgical gloves, and I certainly have no need for a box of them, so after a few weeks I gave in and used a pair of rubber dish-washing gloves. (Don't worry; we have another pair so the dishes continue to get washed!)

Once the grout had dried a little, I took a sponge and some water and "washed" the coasters, cleaning off excess grout and allowing the stones to show themselves. Then I let them dry for about a week - just to be sure! :)

A more experienced grouter, or a person with a metal file, could have gotten the edges straight, but I am neither of these. Proud of my first attempt at making anything involving plaster and/or grout, I replaced the rubber CNA-Q coasters we had been using in the living room with my very own creations.

Everything was fine until I moved the coaster and realized it was scraping the table. So I dug around in our "everything hardware or fix-it related drawer" for the remnants of the adhesive felt pieces we put on our chair legs to minimize the terrible noise they made when we dragged them across the tile floor. Adding the felt to the bottoms of the coasters seemed to do the trick!

So, at long last we have a set of 4 functional and semi-attractive costers, created by me! It's amazing how much I dragged out the process, but they're finally done. I'm not sure if I'll ever make a real mosaic - this project may have gotten it out of my system. Then again, inspiration may hit someday...who knows!? One thing is for sure: I certainly have more appreciation for mosaic makers!