Today was not a good day to look on the bright side. I know there is one, I just really needed to wallow. I am sick and have been for three days. Only one day was bad with fever and shivers, the rest I was just exhausted.
I got fed up of homeschooling the kids today. It dragged on for some reason and they were getting irritated. Tarek threw some of his usual fits, an angry tantrum that ends with him storming out of the classroom. This is usually over not getting to answer a question first or not having the same worksheet as Omar. I make him his own – more age appropriate and fun but I guess I overlooked the fact that he might enjoy feeling equal to his brother in the class.
The kids’ holidays overwhelm me, especially since it seems I’ve been having them home a LOT in the past six months. School ended June 1st and I had them home, as we moved, until September 6th when we were back in Cairo waiting for paperwork. Their old nursery kindly took them in for what was originally supposed to be two to three weeks. It ended up being two months during which I got relief for almost four hours a day but I was a single mom throughout. Back in Romania we had to start the kindergarten here and get used to, what I can only describe as an Oliver Twist type experience.
The children are in overcrowded 24 student classrooms with ONE teacher. They sit on benches in the food hall in their specified places and eat only what is served and cooked in stainless steel plates and bowls. They are not allowed to bring their own food or snacks and from what I gather, eating the food provided is important. Omar was fortunate enough to have younger far more smiley and enthusiastic morning and afternoon teachers. Tarek, on the other hand, has not been so lucky. On his third day, which was also his first with the afternoon teacher I was informed that he was a “bad boy.” The reason? He would not lie down and sleep. I tried to work through the limited communication, the cultural barriers and the fact that we were in a small town that hadn’t quite caught up with civilization. I thought we were ok until the next day when Tarek came home throwing fits about every tiny incident. Apparently when we raced I didn’t let him win by far enough, I put the fork in the wrong place and Omar’s minor remarks about anything sent him into fits of tears. After some investigation I found out that after an array of angry shushing and aggressive remarks, his teacher had threatened to put him in a dark closet if he did not sleep. He tested the limits and was whisked off into the dark closet for a taste of what it would really be like. The reality of the threat send him straight to his cot to lie down petrified for the rest of the time. It also seriously upset Omar who seems to have reacted by both feeling guilty about not helping his brother for fear of punishment and a sense of animosity towards him because after all in the teacher’s eyes he was a ‘bad boy.’
That and some recent reports of being smacked on the leg and the behind, have added to the stress of our original schooling problem. Not only are there no international schools and our only choice for the children is a Romanian/German nursery while I carry the burden of homeschooling, but now the ‘best place in town’ was causing trauma to both my children.
Couple this with our landlord who shows up often, VERY often because he basically treats our basement like his personal storage and what's left is a sick, tired and very frustrated me. I get dressed and go out for a walk. I need to get away from the noise the children are making and the crazy heating in our house that actually has me sweating despite sub zero temperatures outside.
I walk up to the hotel but decide against going inside and ordering a Frapuccino. I don’t really need one so why dump in calories and feel worse than I already do. I walk back, but slowly. Back in the yard I stay outside for a while. I don’t want to go out but I’m not ready to face the daily grind either. I walk to the steps, where the civilized yard meets the more park like, gopher mound infested, fruit tree laden one. I look at the horrible uneven poles that our landlord has stuck at the perimeter with concrete. I squint my eyes. Who spills blotches of concrete in the middle of a garden and then sticks ugly poles out of it? I get that he wants to run grape vines along it but surely there was a better way. I hate him a little more for invading our privacy whenever he pleases and then sticking ugly poles in the yard. My mind thinks of the arguments against him, of whether we should move, of how I’d like to give him a piece of my mind about showing up without a call every other day, or at least so it seems. I sigh.
There are so many frustrations. So many difficulties in our life in a small town in a developing country. I have so many ideas about progression but they are lost in lack of translation. I think about how I want to learn the language. I work as fast as I can but am so limited by all my other duties. Then I think about my yoga. I will not have a chance to do any while the kids are home. And after they go back to school I will do it hurriedly so I can rush to pick them up from the hell hole at 12, worrying all the time about what harm might have befallen them in my absence. I will feel guilty. I allow myself to think about myself and my needs. They seem to get side tracked often. I need to make social connection and to exercise. I take a quick mental note to work out a plan for the gym and more regular exercise. It will probably have to wait but it’s there.
I look out at the town, the tower at the center is barely visible through the fog. I know there is a bright side because I have seen it, or perhaps willed myself to see it. And maybe I will again, but not today. Today I want to wallow because I have learnt that sometimes we just need to feel sad and helpless. To get all those bad feelings out so that we can recharge some positive energy and face the world once more. I am pushing aside the bright side for now, not today. Today is not the day for it.
