Keys and comfort

To the desert, to the wadi, to the mountain, or to chill at home? I just love this question! My Thursday morning teen group has finally ended. I have just finished writing their reports, and emailed them off. Joe came around last night especially to show me how to make a tick using Microsoft Word. Bless him.Terrible, I haven't had to make ticks on the computer since I co-ordinated the childrens' courses at CfBT. I officially begged off the final day party. the theme is "The Circus", I am sure it would be the end of me. Each class reminds me a bit of a circus, and I am so done with that for now.

 I haven't been able to get away from the city for a while, and I am looking forward to some escapes again as the end of the semester draws near. Well, not that near, I'll still be pretty busy till mid July.
My student from Jalan whose family I love visiting, told me today that they are building an "isbah" in the desert and that I should come soon soon. This is a kind of a desert house made of palm fronds, usually open on one side.

Muscat is now approaching the 'sauna stage', but I am still one of the die-hards having lunch outside with the geologists. The sweat is almost dripping into our plates of food, but we are tough!
So, the desert, in contrast, is dry and really nice at night. The afternoons can be pretty windy, but the sunsets are beautiful and the place is quiet. No tourists dunebashing and destroying the peace.

I am happy, the week has flown, I only just realised that I never wrote much about this week. The dinner in the Chedi with the girls was really lovely last Wednesday. I am truly enjoying my membership there and going really regularly for a swim in the sea and the pool. Yesterday in my derailed state I went first to Claire who picked me up and brushed me off, and then straight to the Chedi where I was swimming in the sea at sunset and sucking down a tall mochito. Perfect.

In any case, back to last Wednesday.. I came out of that superb dinner to find that I had lost my keys! My lovely Omani neighbours are supposed to have a spare house key, but they couldn't find it. Oh my goodness, Joe to the rescue again. He left his party and came to save me, screwing off the burglar bars of my back window. Take it from me peops, have spare keys for your house and car hidden in useful places. It was a little test I didn't need.

Monica came from the UAE on Thursday and it was wonderful to catch up. We were neighbours for 5 years, close friends for the last two and I really miss her. This is all part of the expat lifestyle I guess, people coming and going, and it is difficult to know who the keepers are, but Monica is definitely one of them.
We were up most of the night and luckily I could rest on Friday.
I went to the 'Beatification Saloon' in the afternoon and decided to go to join the taco thing with a group of South Africans at Left Bank. I had many reservations about this, I was feeling a bit anti-social, Left Bank is far too trendy for me and I usually attempt to avoid my own kind when out of South Africa. They can be so scary. I changed my outfit about 17 times, even resorted to ironing for the first time in 5 years. As my mother used to say, "the 'casually flung together look', so difficult to achieve."

But all worked out well, the people were fine, I enjoyed speaking my language, the tacos turned out to be tappas, which reminded me of my awesome time in Spain last summer. I felt much better after a bloody Mary and had such a good laugh when the the hill on which the restaurant is situated was compared to a certain spot in Bloemfontein.

 It reminded me of the path I have come, the way I have walked, and how only a few years ago Muscat was just an exotic name on a map. Now it is home.

Autobiography in Five Chapters

I thought my inner GPS was sending me on my way to a roaring party, and in contrast I have found myself very busy avoiding all sorts of crazy potholes, unexpected obstacles, old patterns and thorns on my path, having to focus carefully on where I put my little feet. I suddenly landed in the wrong film, 'When Harry met Sally' turned into 'Apocalypse Now' and I had to regroup really quickly. Luckily this lady has a bit of a warrior spirit behind the pussycat facade and I am negotiating the way just fine. Don't know what happened to the GPS, alias my unfailing intuition, but clearly a little blip in the system. Will let you know once I hit the freeway again! As they say, 'all roads lead to the same party'. 

A friend sent me an email last night which reminded me so much of this mindblowing quote from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying which I  immediately  would like to share. It will keep you going till I am back in full swing.

1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in...it is a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.

Wishing you all to leapfrog over the holes of your old habits and find a beautiful new road to explore.

My space

I am sitting in a room; the paint on the walls starts to peal, like flames are burning, melting it away.

Behind the transparent walls is the cosmos in all of its glory and infinity; the purples and blacks and oranges of the planets and the nebulae and the supernovas .  I am sitting in the centre of the universe, I am floating in space. I am in awe, I am filled with joy.

The vision lasts only a split second; I will remember it as long as I live.