Dunebashers- hang in to the end to find out why we have come up with the title
Why are we really here? As much as we try to justify coming
to the Sandbox, I’m not sure our sole reason is identifiable. Sure, we came for
gainful employment and a great experience. Is that really what God wanted? Is
there more to life here in the desert than luxuries, a good paying job and
accommodations, incredible food and entertainment, and endless opportunities to
lose weight in the scorching heat? To be honest, I wanted to escape. I was
tired of American education. I was tired of teaching. My passion had been extinguished.
I had student loans. Life was busy, never slowing down. I wanted to go on a
long, extended vacation to get away from it all. At that time, I didn’t know what my purpose
in life was. Why did God call me to education? I felt like an inadequate
educator…a failure. What else could I do? Landscape? Cook? Join the military?
Move across the world to do something I don’t enjoy doing anymore? Sounds good
to me…At least I’d be making more money and maybe that could ease the pain. It hasn’t…I
still feel inadequate as an educator. I still search to find where I fit in. I
even started the process of opening a restaurant (Desert Diner). I took up scuba diving
and am making the necessary steps to possibly start a career there. After
repatriation, what was in store? How would I fit back into society Stateside?
Questions without answers consumed me as doubt, fear, and anxiety flooded my conscience. That was until the most significant event up
to date occurred…
I’m going to back track on the last comment…Most
believers (or claim to be believers) will reference the day God “saved” them as
the most significant day in their lives. I get what they’re saying, but it
doesn’t make much sense when we look at God’s Word and read about
sanctification as an on-going process. Salvation isn’t a one-time event to
check off our to-do list. God didn’t “save” us. He IS SAVING us day by day as
we grow in sanctification and repentance. Off my soapbox…
The end of the 2nd trimester was nearing and our Mudir (Principal)
gave an invitation to all at our school to attend a get together BBQ (BBQ is
used loosely here as a cookout/get together). I relayed the information to all
the Western colleagues. I knew the other westerners weren’t coming and as the
day approached, thoughts ran through that I should just skip as well.
Nonetheless, I went and am thankful I did. It started out with a little anxiety
as I was the only non-Muslim there and knew I had nothing in common with any of
my Arabic coworkers. To top it off, as I arrived, it was time for Maghrib (4th/sunset)
call to prayer (Adhan). I felt completely out of place… “It’s not too late to
leave” was my thought. After prayer, I followed a few to the area we would
eventually set up for the bbq. Not long
after, we broke for a game of futbol. I’m not too skilled, specifically at “soccer”,
but have always been athletic enough to blend in at the sports I wasn’t used to
playing. We had a great time! It was really cool seeing all my colleagues not
in kandoras (traditional dress) and professional attire, especially the
administrators. They know how to have fun too, ya know? From the game, we moved
back to the bbq area. We all sat down on large mats and dished out a catered
Lebanese F-E-A-S-T! They do this very well here! Everyone stuffed themselves
and then still had plenty to take home for left overs. During the meal, I sat
next to a good friend and colleague, Sabri, who helped translate conversations
made by the mudir and other Arabic friends telling me what to eat with what and
how to eat it and giving me descriptions…It was great! I had grilled platters
before since moving here, but I enjoyed the attention and the friendliness directed
towards me as a guess to all. I didn’t have to let them know I knew. You know…we
don’t always have to “know it all” even when we might…I digress…I wasn’t an
outcast any more. I wasn’t with colleagues. Language didn’t matter. We were
friends. We were brothers. We were family, sharing a meal and enjoying each
other’s fellowship. It was life-changing.
After we indulged in some incredible Palestinian sweets,
(in which I was basically forced to eat more than my fair share and take some
home due to my hospitable friends showing me a good time), we wrapped things up
and cleaned camp. In as little English a few friends knew, they invited me to
stay after and drink Arabic tea with them. A total of 5 of us stayed,
thankfully one included someone who could help translate. The ones who stayed weren’t
just Arabic, they were Emirati. That’s huge! As much as I felt out of place
being around Arabic people, the degree of my disconnection was exponential when
around Emirati’s. What did they think of me as an expat coming into their
country? Did they approve? Did they want me gone? Did they think of me as a lot
of Americans think of Mexicans and other ethnic groups? Was I just another
obnoxious Westerner? Was I incompetent when dealing with Arabic students? Did I
step on their toes and shame their culture? As we sipped on hot Arabic tea
until the dark hours of the night, losing track of time and individual
identity, a gap was bridged…a paradigm was shifted, a life was changed. We sat
for hours and each culture represented opened up to each other. It was
beautiful… Blood was talking to blood. No stereotypes…Just brothers of the
human race asking each other questions to get a better understanding of one
another. No judgements, no prejudice feelings, no ill will…Just complete
agreement and collaboration that we are in this together. We are here to love
people and love God (underlying as much as possible-I’m not taking a
universalism stance-I hold strong to my beliefs and will continue to carry out
the great commission). We are here to make
a difference and educate young minds. I
gained a lot of respect for my Arabic (and Muslim) friends. We each know we can
count on each other, we can look to each other, we can work in harmony
together. That’s exactly what the late HH Sheikh Zayed (MGHMOH) stood for! Life
Changing!!!
Thanks for hanging in there…Why DuneBashers? The sand
dunes here, in some places, are MASSIVE! Dune bashing is where crazy 4x4
drivers take you to speeds unknown up sand dunes unknown to a ride of a lifetime.
Figuratively, there are mountain-like dunes to overcome here. The challenges
and struggles are real. Teaching here has been the most difficult task I have
faced. Without going into detail, right
now, it is clear why I leave work sometimes feeling incompetent and unworthy. It
is evident why I might doubt my purpose. Each day is exhausting! The dune
bashing, 4x4 experts, are primarily local Arabs. They know the dunes. They know
how to conquer them. They know and have what it takes. The same can be said for
my colleagues. They know and understand the culture. They know how to conquer.
They know and have what it takes. I have learned to partner with them more and
more each day and find myself making the most of every day. I have started
enjoying working with these kids and my Arabic brothers. It’s still challenging,
but different. “SAME SAME but different” (inside joke). Moving on- I feel I
have made strides to reach out to my students by engaging culturally. I have
learned to trust the Driver to help me overcome dunes and conquer each mountain
with confidence, not in myself, but the One who has conquered all, even death!
That’s why I’m not worried, that’s why I live without fear. For God is with me everywhere I go. He leads,
I follow.
We are becoming Dune Bashers!
