Imagination, connection, and collaboration drive my teaching, art making, and life. This blog documents travel, food, art making, teaching, education, and the life of my Qatari cat and new Chinese pup. 🎉 Go. Make. Fun.
I am writing today on one of the four rainy days I have witnessed since living in the desert. It has been raining since yesterday morning and this is crazy to me . . . In a good way. Remember how much it rained in Singapore? It poured almost daily. So now when it rains, I rejoice! Because it only happens like once every two months or so! It's fabulous!
Except for that today, there was flooding. And a lot of it! They even closed down my school for the afternoon. It was a mess . . . But I was sick at home and safely tucked into my covers, doped up on DayQuil. Thankfully all of my friends were able to get home from school. It took almost 2 hours for them to actually get to school this morning! 2 hours!!
But generally speaking, the weather is beautiful here! It was so hot when I arrived. Every day I looked at my weather app, and generally the temperature averaged between 109 and 111 degrees fahrenheit (that's like 42 - 44 degrees celsius). And I kept thinking: whoa, this is like hotter than Austin during the summer. But then someone told me that the weather would change.
About two or three weeks ago--just out of the blue--the temperature dropped. It now averages between 68 and 75 degrees fahrenheit (20 - 23 degrees celsius). The skies are completely clear and the brightest blue you could ever see! (Well, not today, because of the rain. But normally.)
I have been living in Doha, Qatar since August 16th. It's been three and a half months, and I absolutely love it!
Of course I say this now . . . Three and a half months later. Moving to Doha has not been easy, but now I'm sort of falling into a regular schedule and a group of friends that I really adore.
For the first month that I was here, I lived in a hotel. It's a hotel that you can also rent rooms as apartments. It's not that much cheaper than finding a place out in the city, so I ended up finding a place in Al Sadd.
Al Sadd is a nice little neighborhood that feels more authentic to me, like I'm living in another country. Well, authentic if you choose to look past the Toys R Us on the corner and the Applebee's down the street. (I really wish chains from the US would stop invading the world.) But other than those things, it's great. I can easily walk around my neighborhood and I absolutely love my apartment.
There is no public transportation in Doha, meaning no trains or subways. I mean they are in the process of building their metro rail. I think there is a bus system, but I don't see the buses on the regular. And cabs are extremely difficult to find. There is Uber, but come on . . . Everyone has a car here. Everyone. And all of the cars are always on the roads all at once, all the time. The traffic in this city makes Houston or LA traffic look like a walk in the park. Every day it takes me 45 minutes to get to work. I stand on the corner, show some leg, and one of my friends picks me up in her car. It's 8.2 km to school. That's 5 miles. It's takes us 45 minutes to travel 5 miles! I'm laughing now, as I write this. But at 6 in the morning, it's not so funny. And walking? No. I mean, I walk around my neighborhood. But Doha--again like LA--is not a walking community. I miss the walking and biking I did all the time in Singapore. I'm seriously debating getting a car in February. We shall see . . .
My apartment is great. It has three rooms and 3 bathrooms, and it's perfect for entertaining. I have one room for my studio, one room for me, and one room for guests. It's so great! It's older than my place in Singapore, which I love. Feels more vintage-y. It's filled with wood trim and grey tile floors. And I very rarely have to turn on the air conditioner. It holds in the cool really well! The ceilings are tall and there are windows in every room.
Of course I lived here for a full month before my furniture arrived. I was very disappointed with my movers this time around. They moved my items from the US to Singapore, no problem. But coming from Singapore to Doha was a real headache. Somehow I ended up paying more. I had to pay for storage because the items arrived from Singapore during the week of Eid. And they didn't bother delivering my things until 9pm on a school night. And they refused to unpack things because "it was late". And they threw away one of my sculptures that a friend gave me. It was a nightmare, actually. A real pain. When one pays close to $10,000USD for door-to-door shipping, there should not be any extra charges and the movers should unpack everything without question. (Insert angry face emoji of your choice.)
I love the people I work with. The teaching staff at SEK is so great! Immediately upon arrival, we all just kind of started hanging out together. This was not the case in Singapore. I loved the people I became friends with in Singapore. But it was pretty lonely during my first year there. But, here? Instant support. It's fabulous! We hang out on weekends together and occasionally go grocery shopping together, ride to school together and have pool time together. It's awesome. In two days, 20 people are coming over to my house for a day-late Thanksgiving dinner. I can't wait! My first international hosting experience, and I am definitely looking forward to it!
As for the sensitivities of living in the Middle East, I haven't found any. I mean, there is a 1000QAR deposit to be able to buy alcohol. And when you pay it, you have to show a letter from your employer stating how much money you are allowed to spend on alcohol per month. It sounds like a lot to deal with. But honestly? The amount they've allotted me, I will never spend per month. Ever. Who can afford to do that? It's a substantial chunk of my salary for Christ's sake!
And clothing-wise, there's really no difference. I wear the same things here that I wore in Singapore. I just can't wear my dresses to school without wearing pants or leggings with them. But when I go out with friends or hang out at the Souq, I wear whatever. It's no big deal. People stared at me before I moved here. People stare at me in Baltimore. In Singapore. Wherever. So, I feel no different here.
The only ridiculous thing is that I was asked repeatedly to change my hair color. I had maybe 5 blue streaks in my hair. I told them I would change it within a month's time. And I did. I felt instantly sick to my stomach about it, but I changed it. No worries! In two years time, I will be able to have whatever color hair I want again! Hooray! (Just recently a friend posted a picture to me on FB of the Art Teacher of The Year in her state: fully blue hair. Like, unicorn/mermaid blue hair. She was wearing knee-high Doc Martins, tights, a short skirt, and a long-sleeved sweater. Cute as pie!)
I've found a really wonderful community in VCUQatar, Virginia Commonwealth University's Qatar location. I will be working on some projects with them in the spring and early next fall. And I'm so pleased! So incredibly pleased with the people that I've met there. All different types of artists, from all over the world. And I even got to see my most-favoritest-artist-ever-on-the-planet-of-artists at their campus. And sit on the front row of his lecture. And run up to him, in a not so subtle way, and tell him how much I loved him and how his work changed my life. So, yeah: VCUQatar is pretty much the #lovebomb!
About a month and a half ago, a friend took me to the beach. He picked me up around 8am and we drove for about an hour and a half down the highway. Straight North. It was weird and oddly quiet. We were in the city, then suddenly out of the city. Then, suddenly in the desert. Then I felt like we were on a set for some Star Wars movie, and then we were somehow at the beach. The beach was called Fuwairit Beach. And it was beautiful! And relaxing, so relaxing. It was probably my most favorite day that I've had in Doha since I moved here. We hung out on the beach for a few hours and then we drove through some of the small villages nearby. We talked to some crabbers and ate lunch at the most amazing little authentic Turkish restaurant. The food was incredible and there was so much of it! 70QAR for so much food. That's $19USD my friends. Wooo!
And speaking of food . . . I have now made the mistake twice of going to brunch in this fine city. While the alcohol and food are amazing (my champagne glass was never empty, yet I was drinking nonstop), it certainly isn't how I want to spend my time. Not on a regular basis, that is. The first brunch I went to was at the Kempinski on The Pearl. The Pearl is this neighborhood in town that sort of feels like a mini-Singapore. It's very fancy and colorful and there is grass everywhere. It's nice to look at, but it's not really my thing. The brunch cost close to 500QAR. It was my first weekend in town, so I didn't know what I was getting myself into. 500QA = $138USD. No. Not for a meal out, evers. Nope, not for me. And yet I did it again! Gasp. At the beginning of this month, I went to a brunch at the W Hotel. It cost 410QAR (about $115USD). Again, no. We went to see a friend play in his band, but he ended up being at the other restaurant. It was so crazy! But we had a good time. Both brunches were great times, but I probably won't be doing it again unless President Obama or Madonna come to town and they want to take me out.
The last thing I'll say about Doha is that I love the city's timing. Everything starts very early in the morning. My school starts at 7:20am, so I am there by 6;45am every day. Our school ends at 1:30pm everyday, and I leave campus by 3:30pm daily. And the sun goes down almost every day by 4:30pm. It's beautiful actually, because from my bedroom I can hear the prayer calls. Each of the five times that they ring out, everyday. It's kind of comforting. Sometimes it's speaking and sometimes it sounds like chanting. And there are cats everywhere. I'm told at some point Doha had an overabundance of rats. So, someone decided to bring in cats. Now there are no rats, but lots of cats. And sometimes, along with the chanting in the mornings, I hear the howl of two cats arguing. It's hilarious and surreal, all at once. Carry on, Doha! I love you! Oh yeah! And follow me on Snapchat . . . It's super fast and fun! See below! @Cakecrush
I asked Ben's son Tyler to join me in North Carolina this past August. We've had a bit of a rough year, so I thought we both needed a break. We stayed in a family home for a week and had the most amazing time. I also asked my friend--and one of my favorite musicians--Corey to tag along. Here's a visual wrap-up of the fun we had! (Except I left out the dancing images, for obvious reasons. But I'm holding them close for future blackmail opportunities . . . Haha!) Enjoy!
“The only way we will survive is by being kind. The only way we can get by in this world is through the help we receive from others. No one can do it alone, no matter how great the machines are.”
I just finished reading the most thoughtful and inspiring book. Amy Poehler’s Yes Please was completely engrossing. She is so generous and informative, and she makes you want to get up and change the world. She’s humorous and caring. She talks about her family a lot and the in’s and out’s of “the business” a lot. And she writes about things that happened to her throughout her career, without holding back. It’s such an amazing book. I put off finishing it for as long as I could so that I could drag it out. But yesterday was the day!
And now I am feeling all sorts of reflective.
In January of this year, my friends came to town to work with my students on a Rube Goldberg project.
The Grade 3 teachers had approached me about collaborating with their students on their science unit featuring force and motion utilizing simple machines. I instantly agreed. For years, I had been wanting to build a Rube Goldberg machine with my students and this unit was the perfect opportunity!
So, I invited San Francisco-based artists Erik Richard Parra and Jessica Laurent to be guest artists during this unit. Erik is a painter and installation artist. His work centers around creating spaces (drawn, painted, or sculptural) where people can engage in productive, democratic experiences with the art. Relationships of line, volume, weight, time, space and other variables affect the success and progress of these spaces. Jessica is a science-based graduate student. Together, their experience helped bring our Rube Goldberg to life.
Rube Goldberg (1883 - 1970) was a Pulitzer Prize winning cartoonist, sculptor, and author. He created intricate illustrations of machines that would complete a simple task in the most extraordinary way. Elaborate sets of arms, wheels, gears, handles, cups and rods, put in motion by balls, canary cages, pails, boots, bathtubs, paddles and live animals seemingly made these drawings come to life.
To get the students excited about what they were going to be building, I asked Erik to introduce his art making and studio practice. He showed lots of images of his work and a video where he built a piece from start to finish. The students asked lots and lots of questions, establishing a great relationship with Erik from the start.
Our next class together was filled with a great deal of excitement as we showed the students a variety of real life Rube Goldberg machines: The Page Turner, OK Go’s This Too Shall Pass, and collaborative artists, Fischli and Weiss. Then we broke the students into three groups. Each group was tasked with sorting through found and recycled materials to build a simple machine that would work over and over and over again, completing the same task. Perhaps it was a car rolling down a ramp and crashing into a stack of cardboard tubes, or maybe it was a ball dropping into a yogurt container tied to a string that then knocks something off of a table. Whatever it was, the students had to be able to prove that it would do the same action over and over again. They had lots of ideas, and loved this process of play and experimentation!
We kept adding to the items the students could choose from, so that they could really experiment with repeated actions. The first week was all recyclables. The second week was toys (cars, heavy magnets, balls, tracks) mixed with recyclables. The second to last class involved the students finalizing their simple machines. Once they could prove to us that they could repeat their machine’s action numerous times, we carefully kept whatever machine they built to be used in the final Rube Goldberg.
When it came time to build the full Rube Goldberg, the visiting artists set up a space in one of the empty classrooms. They aligned the desks in an “L” shape close to the walls, so that the main space was open. We brought in ladders, umbrellas, and fans as additional set pieces. These items added height and movement, which helped visually tie the full work together. Through lots and lots of experimentation, the visiting artists connected each of the student’s simple machines to create the finished work. And then each of us (both of the visiting artists and me, the teacher/facilitator) added our own elements to the work (balloons falling from the ceiling/colorful bits of paper tied to the fan that would playfully blow when it was turned on).
We invited the students and their teachers into the space and presented the final work. The students, in turns, photographed various parts of the work for their portfolios and then we put together a final video of the piece.
What was so unique about this process was the way that it worked collaboratively. Each student was able to bring something to the work. The Grade 3 teachers (by teaching their students about simple machines, and force and motion) and we, the artists and teachers (through creative building and problem solving), were all able to contribute to the final piece. It was a truly collaborative work from start to finish.
What the students learned about simple machines and interactive, collaborative art was immeasurable. The students realized that working together to create a large artwork was far more successful then a project where they had to work alone. They also valued this type of working atmosphere: collaborating with their peers and utilizing what they learned in other classes to fulfill an artwork’s potential.
During their three week visit to Singapore, Erik, Jessica, and I took a quick weekend jaunt to the place in Borneo that I raved about here. We had the most beautiful time. But it was also the weekend I almost died.
The weekend started off with my friend, Mr. Abel, picking us up from the airport in Kota Kinabalu. We went by the grocery store and stocked up. Then we drove onward to the private beach that I love so much . . .
Friday night, we stayed up talking outside of our cabins. A few of the locals who were there for the night, came up and chatted with us. We all had beers, and exchanged pleasantries.
Our cabin was a duplex. Jessica and Erik stayed on one side, I stayed on the other. We shared a porch with a nice table and chairs. Each side of the duplex had two twin beds with mosquito nets. We could hear the ocean water. It was wonderful! Cabins on the beach are it! Absolutely the best!
The next day, we had a home-cooked breakfast. Turns out Mr. Abel is not only a hospitable friend, he’s also one heck of a chef! Then we spent the entire day on the beach. We went swimming and snorkeling. We collected lots and lots of seashells. We chased crabs. We ate lunch. Then we did all of those things again. We were getting sunburned as the day continued, but we did not care. It was so relaxing.
Dinner was another amazing feast. After dinner, we ran around on the beach. Even more crabs came out after dark. And they were bigger. Some of them were completely translucent. Around 9:30pm, we decided to go set some crab traps off shore a bit, in the ocean.
This is when things changed . . .
We hopped in a tiny wooden boat with our captain, Stanley. He spoke very little English, but he was all smiles. We took the boat out about 1.5 - 2 miles from shore and set the traps. Crab traps are sort of big metal crates that sink. They are marked with floats tied to ropes, so you can retrieve them again the next morning.
Before we took the boat out on the water, I remember noticing 4 perfectly drilled holes about an inch in diameter along the righthand side of the floor of the boat. And for a brief second, I thought, Are holes supposed to be on the bottom of something that is supposed to float in the water?
Once the traps were set, Stanley swiftly turned the boat around to come back to shore, and the tip of the boat dipped down in the water. And that’s all it took. Erik went in the water first, with a look of horror on his face. Once he went in, I thought, Okay, I learned about this in Girl Scouts. Flip the boat over, and we’ll hold onto it until they can get another boat out to us.
But the boat went straight down to the bottom of the ocean. There was no floating happening.
That’s when I lost it.
I started shaking and screaming at the top of my lungs. Turns out, my fear of the ocean is very, very real. And I do not swim well under duress.
Stanley was waving his hands in the air. I kept hearing Erik yelling over to him to see if he could swim. He could not. He was still smiling, but not able to stay above water. At this moment, I took off the sweater I was wearing and let it float to the bottom, never to be seen again. It was weighing me down and I was freaking out, big time.
Erik put Stanley on his back and began to swim to shore. Surprise, surprise! Erik had been a lifeguard in high school and college. So, he went into safety mode. As he swam past Jessica and me, he told us he would get another boat and bring it out to us. We just had to begin swimming and he’d meet us halfway.
Nope. I was flailing at this point. I remember thinking what I must have looked like, and it looked like a drowning person. I’d completely gone into panic mode.
Jessica—on the other hand—was seemingly calm. I’m not sure how she managed this. But she looked over at me and said, “Float on your back and look at the stars. That’s all you have to do.”
So, I got on my back and started swimming backwards looking up at the stars. I remember thinking how big the moon looked and how bright the stars looked. I kept thinking, Well, if this is the way I am meant to go, this is a pretty beautiful sight.
I kept going. I was swimming backwards, screaming bloody murder, and crying. I was frustrated that my boobs were not keeping me afloat. I know that probably sounds crazy, and vaguely inappropriate. But these are the things that were going through my mind. What’s the purpose of these things being so giant, if not to keep me afloat in times of near-death, watery experiences???!!!!
Then I felt someone grab my arm. Jessica placed my arms around a buoy. She continued swimming on.
Then my fear turned from drowning fear to what-if-something-bites-my-legs-off fear. Holy crap, will this night ever end??!! It was so dark outside and I couldn’t see in the water. I couldn’t see anything!!! Let me just die and be done with it!!
That’s where my memory of being out in the water ends. The next thing I remember, is being flung over the side of a boat. I was face down on the floor of the boat, repeatedly saying, “Get me out of here!” When we made it to shore, I got out of the boat, fell to my knees and began throwing up. I threw up for about 30 minutes straight. Apparently swallowing salt water cleans out your system. All orifices purge. It’s disgusting and cleansing, all at once.
Mr. Able wrapped me in a towel and I walked by myself, with Jessica and Erik trailing me, up to our cabin. When Jessica got there, she gave me two pills to help with my panic attack. Very, very rarely do I take medicine. But that night, I took the pills without questioning anything. I was still crying and thanking her profusely for saving my life. Then I fell asleep.
The next morning, we woke up to another beautifully cooked breakfast. And it was like nothing had happened. After breakfast, we walked down to the beach. And there was Stanley, pulling the boat out of the water. He had rescued our boat from the bottom of the ocean. After watching him pull it onto shore, we found Mr. Abel. He took us to the airport. Upon paying, I asked for a near-death discount . . . Which we got. ;)
My heart still stops briefly when I think about this happening. The worst possible way I can think of dying is by losing breath (suffocation), or not being able to breathe (being trapped in water).
The moral of this story is this: wear life jackets. Always wear life jackets. When you are riding a bike on the street, wear a life jacket. When you are riding in a car, wear a life jacket. When you are walking around in a mall, wear a life jacket. I can not stress the life jacket-ness enough!
And when you are having a pleasant evening on the shore chasing crabs, just continue doing that. There is no reason to stop having fun on the beach to take a boat out on the water in the pitch dark. Always stay on the shore chasing crabs! Just do it while wearing a life jacket!!!! Do everything in your life while wearing a life jacket!!
Just so you know, I am not a scared person. I have done a lot of things in my life that I probably should have been scared of, but was not. This was the first time in my life that I was truly frightened. I really thought this was it! Adios, world!
“Lindsey Bailey dies at sea, off the coast of Borneo. She was 40.”
But I’m still here. And I’ve since been in the ocean and taken boat trips. But this experience was definitely an eye opener and made me think about my life differently.
Now I live in the desert, but I’m still surrounded by water. I guess we’ll just have to see what happens! “To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness. But life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire: it is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.”
