Tag Archives: school

Three way Skyping!

So thankful for modern technology: Skyped (3-way skyping, so cool) with daughter, Jessica Powell and son, Nathan at 8a this morning, so she could tell me about her first day teaching her kindergarten students (she teaches at GEMS Dubai American Academy, so is 9 hours ahead of us) and so we could both send Nathan best wishes on his first day at Northwest Missouri State University (first class at 11am is accounting).

Beats Pony Express and sailing ships!

Interesting class she has: 22 students representing Sweden, UAE, US, Canada, France, Jordan, Germany, and somewhere else i can’t remember. All speak English and some speak 3 or more languages! Kids these days…… Totally different than Tegucigalpa where the first several weeks were spent teaching English.

Cheers

tauna

Downtown Dubai, UAE
Downtown Dubai, UAE
Dancing fountains in Dubai
Dancing water and lights at the Dubai Fountain

She’s Off! Again

These past two months have been such a blessing with our whole family together at home.  Daughter Jessica, returned in June from her two years in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, having taught kindergarten at The American School.  She made so many friends, both at the school and the US Embassy.  She had purchased a car and explored the countryside as much as possible on long weekends.  On longer breaks, she took in Panama, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and Ecuador.  She was able to come home for visits occasionally.  She will miss her classroom assistant, Ms Cuty, very much – she just loved that wonderful lady.  As she gave me a hug (the boys and i visited Thanksgiving 2013), she says to me, ‘in the classroom, Miss Jessica is my boss, outside, she is my daughter.’  I will never be able to adequately thank this wonderful lady!.

Read about her experiences in her blog at The Honduras Experience.

Now, she has just landed in Dubai, UAE via Delta Airlines for her next two year stint at teaching.  This time, she will be teaching kindergarten at Dubai American Academy, a world class private school.

Taking her to Kansas City International Airport yesterday was a difficult task for me.  Emotionally, i’m just a basket case.  Of course, i’m thrilled she has the courage, tenacity, and hard work ethic to graduate number one in her Central Methodist University class of 2013 with honors at age 21, then to apply for and obtain a foreign teaching job, then do it again, travel all over while she’s in those areas, but at the same time, I want her safe at home.  But she’s probably not in any more in danger on her travels than she is on our north Missouri farm.

Successful college career. Number one in her class, with honors and a 4.0 GPA Summa Cum Laude
Successful college career. Number one in her class, with honors and a 4.0 GPA Summa Cum Laude

It was certainly nice not to have to leave home at 2am to make the flight like it was for Tegucigalpa!  But it is now 23 hours from our house to her apartment in Dubai.

So, maybe i burst into tears occasionally because of the change?  my children are grown and leaving (left) the nest?  making lives of their own?  Geesh, those should make me happy!  What’s wrong here?  I am happy – just not ready.

Since it is Friday, we probably won’t hear from here until Sunday or Monday, when she is settled into her apartment and utilities are turned on.  What a difference in weather and culture!   It’s currently 93 feels like 107F in Dubai – not bad, we’ve been having that in  north Missouri, EXCEPT, it’s 1 am in Dubai.

Shabbat Shalom!

tauna

Aspergers : Through the Mud

Cotton Road - 22DEC14 (4) - Copy
This is more water than mud, but I think you get the picture.(“Get the picture” get it? 😉 Ha ha I’m so funny.

April, 2014 by Dallas Powell

There’s one thing that I should say straight off the bat. I have never thought of myself as having a mental disorder or a syndrome. When I was still in grade school (I would be home schooled from the third grade and beyond), I was a quiet lad, never asking questions unless asked and rarely talking to my classmates; just sitting quietly listening to the chatter going on around me. Rarely, if ever, injecting anything into the conversation. Conversations especially were and still are difficult for me. Whenever I tried to start a conversation, I am reminded of wading through mud. Every topic, every sentence, every word was a trial and effort. Sometimes I would just get so tired of trudging through the mud that I just have to rest, but I keep wading through the mud until I can find a dry and solid ground on which I can rest and enjoy the peace that comes from being out and away from the mud. After a while, once rested enough, I might feel like wading through all the mud again and so I’d go back in to the mud, but the mud feels thicker than before and thus harder to wade through and then after awhile I get back out and rest and, after a time, the rests get longer and the wading gets shorter until finally I stop going back into the mud. Then I rest for the night and I’m ready to start the cycle again. But sometimes clogging through the mud gets to be too much. Instead of going through the mud, I stay on my little dry patch, even if I don’t particularly like it, it’s still better than fighting through the mud day after day just to interact with other people. So I stay on my dry patch of ground that I don’t particularly like and I just stand still. Sometimes, I work off the will to venture off your little island because I’ve become lonely or my little island has gotten too little and I just want to stretch my legs a bit. I find the mud is easier to walk through than I remember and I start taking more trips through the mud to interact with people and so, I slowly begin to take part of the world again.