Back in the Middle East. Who'd've thunk it?

I'm starting a new adventure.  I now live in Sohar, Oman, working at an International school - truly an International School.  My previous overseas positions have been at American schools.  Not this one.  Nope.

I'm feeling a bit homesick - for Shanghai - so I'm trying to remind myself of the big important reason I left: I need to keep growing as a music educator.  I truly love my previous school, and I was very comfortable there.  My new school follows the International Baccalaureate Primary Years Program - very big in the international educational system.  Adapting to this program is far out of my comfort zone.  Here's to learning something new, right?

So.

This summer, I spent at my mother's house.  Didn't leave it all that much, which meant that I was super ready to get back to work.  I was so ready, that I was officially and completely packed Saturday evening, for a Monday morning flight.  That has never happened to me before.  I'm usually packing in the wee small hours of the morning, depriving myself of sleep.  So all of Sunday I felt a little at loose ends.  It was nice, though, to see most of my family for another family dinner; always good to play with nieces, right?

Monday arrives - the day I'm to fly to Oman.  I had loaded all of my suitcases into Mom's car on Sunday night (again, what was up with that early preparation?), so all that remained was to eat breakfast, load my carry-ons, and we left.  Got to the airport, parked, hauled all of my suitcases (each weighed so very carefully to be only 50 pounds each, thank you very much) to the check in counter at American Airlines, and tried to check in.  The process was somewhat impeded by the 10 or so LDS missionaries who were also checking in for various flights, with their multiple suitcases to be checked and only 1 Airline employee printing out the baggage tags.  (There was another employee, but she only dealt with the premium access customers, not the general rabble). Not a very efficient system, to my way of thinking.  So, my turn at the self-check in kiosk comes, I do my thing, the ticketing agent has to approve my passport, and then I get an unusual boarding pass thingy.  The information printed on the ticket-shaped piece of paper said that check in for my flight could only take place 24 hours ahead of the flight.

Thoroughly confused, because I was at the airport 2 hours ahead of my flight, not 24, I went to the premium lady - she checked my information, and told me I was booked on the Tuesday flight, not the Monday flight.  Even more confused, I got on the internet and reread my booking information.  Incredibly enough, the email told me I was booked on the Tuesday flight.

I was at the airport a day early.

Mind reeling, cheeks aflame, I had to admit to my mother my gigantic mistake.  I still don't know how, with all of the times I read the confirmation email, I still don't know how I made that mistake.  My brain processed the information incorrectly, that's all I can say.  Being kind, my mom made the remark that it was better to be a day early than a day late for a flight, but I just wanted to disappear.  I was ready to go, and had to wait ANOTHER day.  And, there's no left luggage facility at the Salt Lake City Airport, so we had to lug all 6 suitcase back out.  I spent the day at my mom's house. Again.  Just wanting to go - please remember that I'd been packed since Saturday.

Tuesday came, and my brother-in-law was on the same flight (he was going to visit his family in New York, flying through Chicago), so my sister drove us both to the airport, and we checked in.  I checked in successfully, thank you very much.  The flight to Chicago was fine, and that's where things went south again.  I was flying Qatar Airways, and there was no listing for the flight on any information screen.  Anywhere.  I asked a few employees and was directed to the proper terminal, but still nothing.  I asked one more employee, was directed to the proper gate, and was told that they wanted people to ask for the information, so they weren't going to post information about Qatar Airways.

I, therefore, feel that it is my duty to let all people know: If you fly from O'hare to Doha on Qatar Airways, your gate is L10 in Terminal 3.  The flight leaves at 8:55PM.  Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Long story a little shorter, I arrived in Muscat.  It's a 2 1/2 hour drive from the airport in Muscat to Sohar, where I now live.  It was dark, so I didn't seem much.  And I was tired.  Darkness + sleepiness = inattention.

My apartment is not yet furnished, so I'm in temporary housing, which is okay - I'm glad I have a place to sleep - I just wish I could actually unpack my suitcases.  The furniture is supposed to be delivered by today, so I might be able to sleep in my actual apartment tomorrow.  Fingers crossed.

I've rented a car, which is necessary, since I live 20 minutes from school and 15 minutes from the bane, yet necessary evil, of my life, Carrefour.  I'm putting together my room, which is smaller than I'd like, but the class sizes are smaller here ( I think), so it should be okay.  I'm on the second floor of the Sports Hall.  Yup.  I think I'm the only American on staff, and as far as I know there are no American students.  Adventures, adventures!

It's hot outside.  Hot.  HOT.  And humid.  HUMID.

I went to church on Friday - in Muscat, 2 1/2 hours away.  I only planned for a 2 hour drive.  I was late.  We meet in a villa, (shades of Dubai!), but there was no house number on the villa.  I found the one house with an open gate and multiple cars outside, said a quick prayer ("Lord, please don't let me just walk into a stranger's house!"), and went in.  I was in the right place.  It's a small branch, but incredibly friendly.  They all kept asking if I would be coming each Friday, and I want to say yes, but 5 hours in the car each Friday....  Of course, how can I tell God that He's not worth 5 hours in the car?  I'm conflicted.

So.  That's pretty much everything right now.  Happy times.