Disaster, how I almost lost my connection.

This empty blog of mine has quietly been calling my name for months, through the busy holiday season and the snow-covered stillness of winter. It hasn't been because there is no time to blog but rather more of an issue of what to say. I didn't want it to be a constant harping on how hard things have been. I didn't have the perspective necessary to put into words what the last handful of months have offered.  However,  in not saying anything I have let my goal slide away. I started this blog for other parents who are thinking or wondering what it would be like to have your child study abroad. By not saying anything I have inadvertently forgot to share the joys and challenges but ultimately incredible growth this year has offered Caillean and us as her parents.

I remember saying before Caillean left that we were thinking about this upcoming year abroad as similar to that moment right before you jumped into a wave. We just had to hold our breath and jump in. We knew we would come out the other side, our hair a mess and water in our eyes. What I didn't realize then was what the time in the wave would teach us.

When thinking about the year abroad we considered some of the obvious challenges. Things like time away from home, navigating a new culture, learning a new language where all strategized and quantified. What we couldn't plan for was the slow evolution of life in a completely foreign country and the effects it would have on you and therefor on us.

Now, it's not fair for me to tell my daughter's story. She is the only one that really could put into words what her experience has been like. I can only tell my story. A story that I didn't even really take the time to think about before sending my daughter on the trip of a lifetime. I knew then I  had to be brave and try to anticipate her needs before even taking a moment to wonder what it would be like for me to allow my first born to fly away for 10 months. We spent months preparing, making sure she was studying arabic, packing, planning, and holding back tears. Once she was on the plane I kind of thought that was going to be the beginning of just busying myself with school and work and turning the pages of the calendar waiting for Caillean to come home. What I didn't anticipate at all was the growth and challenges I was going to face with my first born having left the nest.

In the beginning it was exciting and new. There were pictures of her travels and new places. Stories of new people she had met and experiences she had. That quickly turned into questions on how to navigate pieces of day to day life. Those little questions started to pile up. The questions and concerns became relentless. I began to dread the day's texts about the newest concern but also started realizing that even though I had time to live my life busy with studies and work I came home everyday to the familiar. Caillean never had that chance to just rest in the familiar. She was on all the time trying to learn one new aspect of life or another. I felt tired from having to figure out how best to help my daughter but also my heart ached for her. I just wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her it was going to be ok. But I couldn't and wouldn't be able to for 6 more months.

Then the holidays came. I thought it wouldn't be so bad seeing as though she was in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas. Facebook doesn't differentiate between countries though. Pictures of friends and family seemingly having a stress free and fun time together was just another reminder that life abroad was hard. For me I had moments of happiness being with my extended family but they were so very fleeting. I had a heaviness in my heart knowing every moment how sad, disheartened, and tired my daughter was at trying to keep a positive outlook at a time in her life when nothing was easy or familiar and so of course she thought about coming home.

The holidays did pass and Caillean's second semester of school started.We fell back into our routines of work, school, Orion's after school busyness, and the normal pace of life.The second semester changed everything. We didn't anticipate the difference in classroom dynamics or the English system of education. Classrooms are large and sometimes extremely disruptive in Oman. The environment was completely different than the smaller classes and relative control in the classrooms Caillean was used to.   Add to that the English system where three sciences are taught every year for 4 years meaning she was walking into a third year Physics class on top of a different math curriculum and man oh man!!  She took the initiative to change the tract of schooling she was in. With the academic pressure off, she was freed up to focus on forming friendships and navigating the other aspects of life.

Teenagers are teenagers wether American or not. The issues are very similar. A teenager wants friends, a safe and calm home life, a way to communicate and hang out,  plus being successful at school. Up until this point, Caillean was struggling to put all these aspects together in a way that felt like success to her.  Caillean is the only one that can really tell her story and what that change was like but things got better. Much better. Texts were now funny and light hearted. There were photos and fewer phone calls. There were no more tears. For me, it wasn't until things started improving for my daughter could I even begin to think about how I was doing. The obvious things were of course on the surface. I did and do miss my daughter. A lot. She has always been one of those people you just love to be around. Without her daily presence there is something major missing. I can't really articulate what that is really like. Almost like there is no sun and therefor no gravity or orbits for the planets to travel. It felt like it was a little darker around the house a lot and things were a little wonky. We adjusted though. We had to.  We pulled ourselves together.  There is no new bright start that we orbit around. And it isn't fair to say all light left when Caillean left. Our relationship with our son shifted. We became focused on his growth and his new place in the family. Conversations around the kitchen table were different now.  Our day to day took on new life of its own. We have continued to stay on track even if we are wobbling along on our paths. We do feel a bit off kilter without her around but it has become the new normal. But now the conversation had changed, even with Caillean. I started to really enjoy hearing from her. Things were going so well. She even asked if she could stay in Oman longer.

Just when we were getting used to this new normal we got an email. The email. The one with our daughter's estimate return date. My husband and I looked at each other and I swear it was like the ice around our hearts melted. It's cheesy I know but a breath of life and hope and sunshine all came through in that email. I immediately counted the number of weeks it was until she was home. Then I thought about it in terms of weekends. I counted again. 18 weekends until she was back. 18!! We could totally do this. It was just a matter of 3 more jobs for Greg, 4 more births for me, and a season of baseball for Orion. It would be at the end of school, the beginning of summer, and the time for Caillean to reenter our atmosphere. To say we are over joyed is an understatement.

Once that news started to settle I realized something big. It was almost like I had been holding my breath for the last 6 months. I had kept my head down, tried to hold it all in, but I forgot to look around.  I had lost my connection. I had been too connected to my rational mind and the feelings of shadow and loss.  I had forgotten to connect the magic that is in the present.  Even though the entire time Caillean has been in Oman wasn't nonstop fun and adventure it has been nonstop growth. Winter in New England is a time of quiet underground growth. To be held by the dark earth to rest, for roots to form,  and seeds to be nurtured. The Earth is striped bare. There is an absolute clarity to the sky present between the branches in the cold winter air.  This gift is only offered when the leaves have been blown to the ground and trampled underfoot. I hadn't realized that now was the time to grab the wonder and possibility that this new life had taken on. It was the time to know the growth was happening, even if the flowers weren't yet visible.

Disaster comes from two Latin words. Dis-meaning apart and aster-meaning star. In many ways the last 6 months have been a bit of a disaster. I have been apart from my star. I have lost the day to day connection with her, for now. But even more so I had forgotten my eternal connection to her. The connection that will never been torn apart. Not by miles, not by time, not even by challenges. Equally I had forgotten to connect to the quiet growth that was taking place and I forgot my connection to the tides. The ebb and flow of life. The moments when you feel on top of it all had been replaced by only focusing on being swept under. Now that I know I won't drowned, I am taking the time to feel the movement of the air on my face, the pressure of it all, and to notice the light through the waves.

For parents thinking about this trip of a life time for their children, I must say that it is hard. For you and for your child. You prepare them as best as you can. You try hard not to think of yourself but rather what you can give to your child. You think of what your child will learn and do and who they will meet. These are the gifts you expect to receive and they have been so worth the ache of my heart. But there is more it than just that. My life has changed. I know I have given my child roots and have watched her spread her wings. This has offered me an unsurpassed feeling of pride and in turn has planted my feet firmly on my path. She has taught me so much, not only about the culture and country she is living in but about life. Up until this point the path had been fairly clear. Now though the path is beginning to take the next bend. I can't clearly see what lies ahead. The sweetness of my daughter coming home is coming closer and closer but so is the time she will leave on her next adventure. I know the only thing I can plan for on my path is that I just have to put one foot in front of the other. I am beginning to see there will be moments of clarity and moments when I just have to jump in and fumble blindly.

Since things have turned around for Caillean and since I know her time in Oman is winding down, I am able to see the bigger picture again. I am becoming aware of the feeling of being connected to the tides again.  I know there will be moments when I feel like am floating on top and moments I am swept under. The gift now is to remember not just to hold my breath but to jump in and enjoy the feeling of the movement of the water. I can trust that the unknown will offer its own lessons and that ultimately I will be safe. All that happens will be the experience that helps me grow. And all that happens before Caillean even steps off the plane.

Attachment parenting from afar

Caillean and I share a lot of things. I feel fortunate that her life has been lived closed to mine. It's not only a physical closeness that we have shared but a real connection. Perhaps every parent feels this with their children. I know that for me my connection began with her birth at home. The days of hard labor, blissful birth, and the real work of parenting solidified that feeling that this relationship was something different, something I had never experienced before. The connection I have with Caillean has been  fostered through the years originally through the hours of nursing as a baby and as she grew through homeschooling from pre-k up until 8th grade. Not only did I get to watch her life unfurl and provide the food of nourishment and the environment and where she could hear  her own voice but I was able to create this bond and relationship with my daughter  that is so firmly and deeply rooted that to live life without her in the day to day has been a huge shift.

 This summer our family had a bit of a Justin Timberlake obsession. It was unprecedented to share a pop artist that made us both tap along in earnest. For me, there was one song that no matter when it came on and especially when I was alone in the car I would burst into tears. Tears had not been the norm in my adult life. I hadn't cried in years but over the summer they were common especially when I was alone in the car. I was overwhelmed thinking about putting my daughter on the plane and waving goodbye. It was almost impossible to think of the months rolling along without her here. It was the real idea of separating from my daughter and not sharing the day to day with her that made the tears well up.

 Those days are long gone now and living the day to day with Caillean doing it half way around the world has become the norm. I haven't cried in months. The dull ache in my heart is there though.

 I do miss her laugh, the way we all perk up and listen when she walks into the room, the banter of her and her brother, the recipes she was occasionally inspired to make, the conversations about great books and lofty ideas, and the smile she would flash that is just pure Caillean. But it's even more than that and I haven't been able to figure out just what it is. Until Justin Timberlake came on the radio last night. Now, like I said, it had been awhile since I have cried. Months have gone by and I have been ok with Caillean's absence. We have been able to keep in touch with daily text messages that really feel like what we would be doing if she was texting me from Nantucket. The texts are filled with fun banter and pop references, pictures, and moaning over not being able to see this band who is touring or that band playing in Boston.  They make the distance between us seem much smaller as the day to day chatter of life still goes on. I don't feel disconnected from her. Even this past week that was extremely busy for me  there were still the quick texts from her that made me smile. Even an exacerbated MMMOOOOMMMMYYY  clearly voicing her frustration at not receiving a text back. Honestly, that made me smile. It was a nice validation that she wants to talk to me, even if there isn't an earth shattering story to share, she still wants to connect. For me, that's huge. I mean, competing with the experiences she has half a world a way is a lofty challenge. I didn't know how that was going to play out. I know kids push away from their parents, they have to, I just didn't want it to be now and now I know why. This is where Justin comes in. 

"Aren't you somethin' to admire?


Cause your shine is somethin' like a mirror


And I can't help but notice


You reflect in this heart of mine
If you ever feel alone and


The glare makes me hard to find


Just know that I'm always


Parallel on the other side



'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul
 I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go


Just put your hand on the glass
 I'll be tryin' to pull you through


You just gotta be strong"

I know, my daughter is probably rolling her eyes at me and maybe you are too but really I feel so proud of her. Watching her grow up without the safety net close at hand makes me feel that I was able to give her the roots to know who she is- confident, brave, smart, fun, and beautiful and the wings that she trusted to fly far. She is being tested but always succeeds. The lesson has been to reframe her expectations of what success looks like. Right now, they are baby steps. She seems to forget at times that not only did she take that huge step of getting on the plane and leaving Nantucket she also is on a daily basis navigating a new family, community, school, and language with growing grace and confidence. She is able to reach out and ask for help when she needs it but more often is the one others turn to when they want to share their story or when they are looking for support. I hear the kids she lives with giggling along when she is on the phone, photo bombing the pictures she sends us, and the students she is in the program with post pictures of her in foreign places wearing clothes I don’t recognize but always surrounded by a crew of hugging and smiling girls.

So though it may be cheesy to summarize what I feel when I hear her stories of success in the lyrics of a pop song, it just seems to fit. Like many other suburban moms I spend a lot of time in the car driving my son and other school children from one place to the next. When the song with the perfect lyrics come on, I smile. I know that kids aren’t often thinking of the big picture, but I am. I know my son and my daughter are growing up and taking in not only the experiences of their life in the here and now but also the subtle larger lessons. I was hesitant to let go but I know now that Caillean’s successes are hers but to me, they are a mirror. They reflect the strength I have had as a parent to raise a daughter with the confidence to go after this incredible experience and I am proud of her. The lessons my son is gaining may be hard for him to put into words but it’s written all over his face when he asks how Caillean is doing. This phase of parenting is all new to me and I have come to really understand when people say parenting is never easy, the struggles just change. The thing of it is, when the struggle is hard and then it has been accomplished, the fullness in my heart is just that much more. Parenting is not for the faint of heart but to say that I am grateful to have the love of my children and the bond of this family is simply an understatement. There is nothing else like this love.  

"Well you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you’re missin' home

Only know you love her when you let her go

                                              And you let her go."

Mama said there would be days like this

Today was just one of those days. I was so happy that Caillean called me this morning! I was out when I saw the call came in. I decided to run my errands later and head home to call her  over Skype. We hadn't spoken in over a week so I was thrilled and ready for a long friendly conversation. I called and she answered but it wasn't at all what I was expecting. Her voice was barely audible through the tears. 

Now the life of a foreign exchange student is a challenge. There is no denying that. Anyone that thinks it will be a vacation or that you won't have to worry about your child every moment doesn't have a clear view of what parenting a teen from a far looks like. It's so hard to help a child navigate all the issues that arise and to do it with a nine hour time difference and no ability to just look your kid in the eyes it really hard. This call made me cry. I felt helpless from thousands of miles away to do much of anything. All that I could do was give her the space to cry and talk through what was going on. It isn't anything she won't overcome but when she told me she was fantasized about how life would be if she was at home, with her family and friends near by and how much easier it would all be, it rattled me. It was the closest she had ever come to saying she wanted to come home. By the end of our hour long conversation she had worked through the immediate want to come home but it spoke to an even greater picture of just what it is like living away from home, in a foreign culture when you are only 15. 

There are so many things we take for granted when raising our children in the relative safety and comfort that we enjoy on Nantucket. Having down time to just read a book, or go to you room, or go for a walk are some of simple comforts we are afforded. Feeling confident that when you leave home you will understand what is being said and understanding your place in the family, in your school, and in your community are all invisible comforts. Caillean kept saying all that she wanted was to just pause everything for a bit and rest without falling behind. She wanted to not have to work so hard every minute that she was awake. She wanted friends to be at ease around, the ability to communicate effectively and easily, and a chance to reap successes but instead is facing continued work with exams looming on the horizon. I repressed every urge I had to say, "that's life honey" because when you're 15, life hasn't been like that yet. The innocence of childhood is beginning to wash away. The vision of what's ahead is becoming more and more clear. It's not going to be easy and isn't always exciting but it's not all going to be hard and without rewards or even a break either. The joke with her has been that college will be an absolute piece of cake because at least it is all taught in English and there are no scorpions in your bathroom. 

This year has been a challenge. And it will continue to be. What it is showing Caillean is the path towards growing up and getting a true sense of who she is. The reality that life is hard work has become more than just words. She feels it now down into her bones. The maturity of being able to know that and continue moving forward is really almost staggering. I keep reminding myself she is only 15. That's so young! She is learning lessons that many don't seem to really get until much later in life  and some don't get at all. The reality is that once you know this just just have to dig in and do what needs to be done. There's support but really it's you. Procrastinating  just makes the work harder. You control the way you approach the day, the effort and joy you put into your work, and the rewards of having done this hard work are all yours too. I just think about the fact that she signed up to speak in Arabic in front of her school on Thursday and recite something she writes from memory. Some kids won't even do that in their native language but Caillean isn't afraid of the challenge. She will do the hard work. I just hope she remembers that even if her Arabic isn't perfect that she is accomplishing so much. And in the words of Robert Frost and my insightful daughter, "Life Goes On." Tomorrow's another day and today will then be your success. 

Turning in

I don't know how it happened. Time has moved forward and there is an absolute beauty to it all. Our pet rabbits have shed their shaggy summer hair for a smooth, thick, soft winter coat, the front porch which used to be littered with furniture where we would sit and watch the boys play baseball has been packed up and is instead festooned with mums and pumpkins, the garden though still producing fireworks of dahlias has slowed in its production of food considerably, and the deer who have shed their orange hair of summer for a darker brown which matches the leaves of the understory completely have become almost aggressive eating the remaining green plants (even climbing the front steps of the porch to do so) and  knocking over the grain buckets in hopes of a full belly. We have enjoyed days affectionately known as Aug-tober . But the earth has changed her garments. No longer is she clothed in the vibrant greens of summer but an entirely new palate of colors is laid out in the weaker glow of sunlight. Maybe it hit on one day, birthdays have a way of doing that, but some of it has become clear only as time continues to pass. The seasons have changed, not only on the calendar but also deeply internally. It is all so beautiful and different than our lazy days of summer and from the fullness of life with my girl around. 

More than a month into her stay in Oman, Caillean has grown. Looking at pictures of her trip to Dubai (!!) this past week I can see the physical changes in her. Her hair is longer, she seems taller and thinner, some of her clothes I don't recognize-some traditional Omani clothing and other more western clothes I assume borrowed from her roommate, and her poise is different. The same ease and beauty of her smile is there but she stands more as a young woman that has met a challenge and is thriving. Thriving isn't easy I am sure. There have been the emotional highs and lows that happen when you live life engaged with people and open to new experiences. I can imagine it must be hard to give up everything you know and move to a new family, new school, and new culture. Even writing a sentence like that seems so belittling to the enormity of her reality. She has changed but her beauty is still there. 

Our change in parenting from the day to day to parenting from afar has started to feel more like the new normal. That's not to say I don't miss Caillean every day, because I do, but our family life has become the familiar rhythm of autumn. I have two children. One is still here and back in school busy with swimming, drumming, and capeouria, my partner is busy with work, I have taught and taken classes, and the sun rises later and sinks in the west with the silent fanfare of autumn sunsets. Autumn has become familiar. It is definitely different than summer but I have found the beauty in the change and have started to thinking about the future. Turning in is only natural at this time of the year, the nights are longer and the outside world begins to settle in and rest. I don't think as much about the day to day nor even about when Caillean will return but I do think about the big picture. The big picture has always been much harder for me to visual for my immediate family than the day to day. I wish I could say that it is because I am a zen master and have always consciously chosen to be here now. There is some truth to that but more often than not it is because I have been savoring the moments and just trying to survive. Survival means so many things and really looking from afar it may be easy to scoff at my use of the word. I certainly have a safe and comfortable life by many standards but looking at a snap shot of my life at this moment leaves out the entire picture. The way our family has come to this point has been a struggle. It has never been easy to make a living while consciously choosing to put our kids first. It wasn't an accident that we didn't buy a house or that Greg has worked 7 days a week for 15 years or that I don't work full time. It was a choice. As much as we can't take all the credit for who our children are as they have done the work of growing up I can say that I am proud of the support and guidance we have offered them. I am also grateful for the guidance and support I have been fortunate to find first and foremost in my partner and from the other parents around me. When people stop me and ask, "How's Caillean?" or comment on her pictures or email my parents, those simple genuine gestures are support. People are thinking of her and about us and it all helps. 

It also helps to have folks that have done this, well maybe not let their kids go to Oman at 15 years old, but whose kids have grown up and moved on. They lend a hand, a hug, and words of support. Just this week I met with a mama whose son I greatly admire. I see qualities in her son that I also see in Caillean. We met to talk about college. My college experience was narrow and though hindsight is always 20/20 I know now that I didn't have access to options for college.  I need to develop the skills to help my child maximize her choices. I was offered practical information that I have already taken to heart and am acting on. I will continue to reach out to her and others to gather as much information as I can. I am open and more than willing to hear from anyone who has been through this before and has any information to share. 

I wish I had more excitement to share in my blog. The excitement and stories are all up to Caillean now. I too am eager to read her new blogs and see the pictures of life in Oman. It's all so amazing and thrilling. My heart rate quickens and my voice gets louder with excitement every time I see a new post or get a call from her. She really is someone I love to be around and I miss having her light in my life everyday. It still shines on me from afar.  And here on Nantucket my daily life goes on. I am not holding my breath or putting this life on hold, but I haven't had to let go completely.  I often feel like the leaves on the trees; dressed in brown, holding on to the branches, and blowing in the breeze. There is no fear. One day I will let go and the wind will carry me. I will float here and there and eventually come to rest on the body of the earth surrounded by the beautiful colors of autumn gradually muting. Don't think I am macabre about it. The life force of spring follows fall and winter. But for now, I turn in and prepare.

The Libra in me post- it's all about balance.

Please, this is Caillean in Oman-Oman!

It's seems hard to believe in some ways and in other ways I am so happy to say it. It's been a month now that Caillean has been in Oman. What a difference a month makes. No longer are my days long and filled with warmth and sun, sand in my fingers, and my daughter by my side. No longer am I anticipating her departure, packing, worrying, and sad. The hardest thing that I have done to date (putting my baby on the plane and walking away) is over. Now I am trying hard to step back and enjoy the ride. It hasn't been easy as I miss her presence everyday but the tears have long dried up and been replaced with the stories of life in Oman and the sound of Arabic from her lips. There have been the typical difficulties that come along with being 15 and living far away from home. Learning to navigate school and friendships, being respectful yet still able to communicate clearly needs and wants, and the typical plight of the 15 year old- adult in so many ways but a child in so many other ways, are all challenges. Caillean is navigating it all with incredible grace. The hardest part is patience: patience to not know how to do it all, patience to develop relationships, and patience to not be a master of the situation.

I have to remember that at times as well. Patience is not my strong suit. I like to check things off my to do list, complete tasks before moving to the next, and generally feel in control. Having my daughter travel half way around the world was never on any of my to do lists. Caillean just dropped it on there 5 months ago. I was patient with the application process, and the interviews, but found my patience ran out once the letter of acceptance came in the mail. I had to learn a whole new way of living once we starting planning for Caillean's junior year of high school abroad. Patience can be hard but for me it has  the balance of being patience and also being active that has been the hardest to learn.  We still have to get done what needs to be done but in a time frame that is very different that parenting in the day to day. I don't know why it has been so hard. I have been practicing parenting for 15 years! When my children were little, the focus was really on the day to day. Has the child nursed 8-12 times today, has she slept through the night, was what she ate this week healthy and complete, did she learn to crawl, walk, use the potty, talk, say please and thank you, her letters, to read, to think for herself, to make healthy choices? Over time the focus changes and the vision becomes broader. My role as a parent changed and became less the role of the provider of the moment to moment needs and more of support and guidance for the big vision. I feel like I still have my training wheels on when it comes to the big picture. My husband on the other hand, seems to have taken the figurative road bike out and is riding circles around the island before looping back and finding me a few inches from where I started. He has been incredibly gifted at supporting our daughter from over 7000 miles away. Call after call he offers her just the right advise with the perfect balance of listening and direction. I must say I am just the smallest bit jealous of his ease with this role but really I am more flabbergasted at how he has found such ease in this new role. Caillean turns to him over and over again and together they work on a solution. I am more of the teddy bear in this relationship. I am familiar and warm and comforting but often feel like my head is full of stuffing. I haven't perfected this new role as mom of a older and wiser kid. I just hope that I can keep up- patience grasshopper.

 As you can see from Caillean's blog www.nantuckettooman.wordpress.com she has been experiencing some wonderful things. You can also tell from her new format and frequency of her posts this week that the wifi issue is working itself out. Her latest post goes on to tell us that learning Arabic is coming along nicely as well. Being able to read Cinderella isn't exactly fluent but not bad for only one month into it. I thought a month into this I would be checking the first month off my list and happy to watch the months tick off until her return. Maybe her return is  just too far off in the future to feel excited about it. I think  though it's more that I feel like she is just starting to hit her stride with living abroad. The pieces are coming together and the vision of what is coming in the months ahead is a little more clear. My ease at being a parent from so far away is becoming more familiar. I still feel like the I have my training wheels on but I am steady.  My role has shifted. I am the behind the scenes logistics, telecommunication navigator, preparation for college applications falls into my column, and still the teddy bear. However, the emptiness I initially felt when Caillean left is not as loud as it was. I have come to learn patience in action, the sound of Arabic, and how to be a parent of a child that is almost an adult and always an inspiring individual and humbling teacher to me. And that's only in the first month. Imagine what lies ahead. 

In her own words

I know everyone has been interested to hear from Caillean. The thing of it all is that we were very hopeful that her blog would be up and running by now but have come to find out she has very limited access to wifi. Pray to any and all of the wifi powers to be that this will change soon. She did write us an email this past week and I have asked her if I could forward it to you all to keep you up to date. So here it is, in her own words....

Now that I am on “holiday”, as the weekend is called here in Oman, I finally have enough time to write something. So much has happened and I have been so busy that unfortunately I haven’t had time to journal or write anything. Between getting to know my host family, exploring Oman, and AMIDEAST orientations, I have only had time to sleep. So far, Oman has been amazing. It is so much better than I could have ever imagined, and I truly love every aspect (except for maybe the heat). Omani people are so kind and hospitable, ready to include me in their family.

I began travelling on August 24 at 8:32 in the morning with a flight to Providence, RI. The night before I left was very difficult; I didn’t get much sleep and, frankly, I was an emotional mess. It was so overwhelming to think that the time had come for me to actually leave my home, my family, and everything I knew for an entire nine months. Once I arrived at the airport, some of my excitement returned. Nonetheless, hugging my family goodbye was the hardest thing I have ever done.

Once I arrived in Dulles at about 11 in the morning, I had calmed down a little and was more excited than sad. Still, when I called my father to tell him that I had arrived safely in Dulles, I started crying. I don’t think that I can identify how I felt at the moment; too many emotions were racing through me to correctly identify how I felt. After many conflicting directions, I finally found my gate and sat down to read while I waited to meet up with Cara, YES-Abroad Oman’s travel chaperone. Mae, another Oman-bound YES-Abroad student, arrived at the gate at about 12:45, and we went to grab lunch and talk. Talking with Mae was extremely helpful to process emotions and feed my excitement and enthusiasm. Soon after, most of the other girls arrived. As the others got lunch, Mae, Davan, and I played a card game with a very friendly group of Japanese exchange students headed to study at an American university in the Midwest and waited for two other girls and Cara to arrive.  We finally were all at the gate about an hour before the plane was scheduled to board, and played cards and talked. We were all extremely excited yet a bit nervous to begin such an extraordinary adventure.   We embarked on our eight-hour flight too excited to sleep; I only got a half hour of sleep on the way to Zurich. We arrived in Zurich at about 7:30am local time, or about 1:30am Nantucket time. The first flight was uneventful; I watched a confusing movie and attempted to sleep while sitting in uncomfortable airplane seats and listening to Justin Timberlake. After eight virtually sleepless hours, we stumbled off the plane in Zurich, bleary-eyed yet even more excited than we had been in Dulles. 

We had five-hour layover in Zurich, where we bought amazingly delicious Swiss chocolate and bottled water with Swiss Francs, explored the airport, and played Truth or Imitation (an airport-friendly version of Truth or Dare). Boarding the plane for Dubai-Muscat at 12:45 on August 25 was without doubt the most exhilarating experience of my life. The next time we set foot on the solid ground we would be in Oman. Despite having been travelling through innumerable time zones for about 24 hours on a half hour of sleep, most of us were too excited to sleep. I managed to get an hour of sleep on our way to Dubai, and woke up just in time to see the largest skyscraper in Dubai from the sky. Most of the plane’s passengers got off in Dubai, and then it was off to Oman! I tried to get more sleep, to no avail, and watched yet another on-demand movie (at least this time it made sense and didn’t have subtitles). We arrived in Oman at about 11:30 at night local time, retrieved our bags, and made our way to the hotel for a very interesting late-night dinner and, finally, a full night’s sleep in a real bed. I have never appreciated beds as much as I did in that moment; the bed was uncomfortable and hard, and the sheets were tucked in (my biggest pet peeve!), but it was a bed nonetheless. After more than 36 hours of travelling, any bed was welcome. 

Aug. 26

The next morning, we woke up early and headed to the first of many orientations at AMIDEAST. After our orientations, which included an incredibly helpful mini crash course in Arabic, and a delicious traditional Omani lunch at Al Maida Omani Restaurant, we left to meet our host families for dinner, and to the return to our new homes with them. When Talya, my housemate, and I entered the room, we immediately saw our host father H with our sisters T and R. Both girls were extremely shy and didn’t say a word to us throughout the dinner, which initially really worried me. However, once we got in the car to go to our house, they really opened up and wouldn’t stop talking about anything and everything. I now feel very close to both of them, and enjoy spending as much time as possible talking to them. Host mother M and brother were waiting for us at home. Our host brother is 2 and a half years old, so M was at home putting him to bed and therefore wasn’t able to attend the dinner. However, we were warmly greeted upon arriving home, and quickly set off to explore the house and unpack. 

Aug. 27

Then next day we ate showered, dressed, and ate traditional Omani breakfast before being picked up by Mohammed, our bus driver, and being brought to AMIDEAST. Following a long day of uniform fittings, orientations, and school visits, we retuned home for dinner and bed. 

Aug. 28

The next day, however, was incredible. The long-awaited time when we would explore the city had come! First, we visited the Grand Mosque. The mosque was privately funded by the Sultan and took over six years to construct. Many of the materials were outsourced from numerous countries around the world, and the mosque set two world records. For years, its main prayer hall’s carpet was the largest in the world; however, it has since been surpassed by that of a mosque built in Dubai or Abu Dhabi. The mosque’s German-made, eight-ton chandelier, also located in the main prayer hall, still holds the record of largest chandelier in the world. The mosque’s sheer scale was incredible. Following the mosque, we went by tour bus to Bait Al Zubair, or the Zubair family’s personal museum, which contains Omani artifacts and is open to the public. Next, we travelled to one of the Sultan’s numerous palaces, located in Muttrah to take pictures and admire the scenery. Muttrah and the Sultan’s palace are located adjacent to the sea, or bahr in Arabic, and the view is beautiful. The bay is full of both the Sultan’s yachts and traditional Omani fishing and transporting boats, called dhows. Not even a ten-minute bus ride from the Sultan’s palace is the Muttrah sooq. A sooq is a traditional Omani open-air marketplace. Innumerable venders were selling their wares in cramped shops- pashminas, perfumes, abayas, dishdashas, cosmetics, and many other types of goods were for sale, often for less than the market price. An AMIDEAST employee, Jesse, explained to me that, at the sooq, price is relative. A good may be priced as two rials, but when you go to pay the vendor, he may sell it to you for one rial, five hundred baisa. Following the sooq, we walked to a nearby restaurant for lunch, and then retuned to AMIDEAST, where we had free time to communicate with our families back home or rest. We then headed to a restaurant with Mohammed, who spoke Arabic to us the entire bus ride as we attempted to reply in our very broken Arabic. Following dinner, we returned to our homes and fell into bed soon after. 

Aug. 29

The next day was a light day. We were picked up at our respective homes by Mohammed in the morning, and went to City Centre See, a large mall located in See, a part of Muscat, and then went to AMIDEAST to retrieve our uniforms and quickly returned home. That night, M’s sister A and her children came over to talk and meet Talya and I. A’s daughter N is almost 13, and the three of us got along very well. A told us all about her family and we talked with N for hours. The next morning was holiday, so we stayed up late talking. The next morning we woke up late and had breakfast, then headed out with H, T, and R to visit some places. First up was the affluent part of our town. We saw the golf course and marveled at the enormous houses under construction. Next we drove to Shatti Al Qurm, or Qurm Beach. I can now say that I have waded in the waters of the Gulf of Oman! R, T, Talya, and I played in the water, took pictures, got sandy, and collected shells. I told R and T that my brother back home used to enjoy creating a human chain by holding hands, then jumping over waves as they broke on the shore. This game was a big hit with the girls, and we played in the water for over a half an hour. The water was warm, yet still refreshingly cool in comparison to the sweltering sun shining down on us. After we retuned to the car, wet and sandy with hands full of seashells, H drove us past the Ministries and Embassies of the Omani government. It was strange to see the American embassy housed in a traditional-looking Omani building. We then went to Sultan, a hypermarket –“The best place ever”, according to T – where we bought food for the barbecue we were planning on having that evening for dinner. Upon returning home, Talya and I helped M and maid K prepare for lunch and dinner. Aunt A and cousin N, along with our great-aunt and her daughter, visited us. Our great-aunt and her daughter soon left, but Aunt A and N stayed for dinner. N, Talya, and I helped H, T, and R barbecue the meat and talked. We discovered that N and I shared likes, and talked until all the meat was cooked. 

Aug. 30

Today we spent a leisurely day full of messes made by our host brother and went to the bathhouses with Munira, an AMIDEAST employee. There we sweated so much we would’ve lost five pounds, had it not been for the rice we eat with two out of every three meals. I am trying to minimize my rice intake by leaving a little food left on the plate when I want to be done. In Oman, if you clear all the food off of your plate, the host takes this to mean that you are still hungry and will serve you more food. Omanis seem to take many things to mean that one is not eat sufficient amounts of food- everything from stomach aches to headaches to tiredness all point to malnutrition. After we walked home and I had a very cold shower and changed into cooler clothing, we played and read magazines and books for hours. Later this evening we went to a pharmacy to get migraine medicine for M, and falafel and chicken shuarma for dinner. However, we also stopped at one of the numerous village tailors to get T and R’s uniforms for school and ended up spending hours at a friend’s house and even eating dinner there.  I played with the kids for a little bit after we arrived home, and am now writing this in bed, with my pajamas on. Both the AC and the windows are completely open and the fan is on as well. 

I apologize for the horrible grammar and probably unnecessary detail of this letter- it started out as a blog post and later I realized that its over 2,000-word word-count is too substantial for a blog post. Also, it is a bit boring. (personally, I don't think it's boring at all!-Sunny)

Lots of love all the way from Oman!

Caillean