All That I know is I'm Breathing

I should be searching the Web for flights to Dubai, but instead I thought I would catch up on everyone's blogs. Then I got inspired to write on my own little blog. I have no stories, but just a need to write something.

The song currently on my iPod is Ingrid Michaelson's "Breathing." It is a gorgeous song, and 500 bazillion times better than the Titanic theme song that is being played at this internet cafe a.k.a. my second home. I must admit that I have repeated "Breathing" quite a few times. It is entirely fitting for the things flitting around in my head.

I am supposed to purchase a plane ticket to Dubai for March 25th. I am excited to be leaving the bakery here, but sad to leave a city I've only seen glimpses of. I am thrilled to go to a new work environment, but concerned that I will hate it there too. I guess with all jobs and places one leaps to, it will always be a gamble. It may not work out. I may have to go home with my head down and with a few more creases in my foreward. All the uncertaintity mingled with current disappointments is disrupts my sleep and confuses my thoughts. So I have to remind myself to keep breathing.

Part of me feels like I have totally failed here, and thus I am gun-shy about showing up at a busy bakery run by a friend. I don't want to fail there either. I am usually a girl who tries to make lemonade (or a nice lemon tart) out of the lemons handed her. But here my lemons were wormy and rotten. I salvaged what I could and made a few friends, saw relics from ancient civilizations, and got two rambunctious boys to sing a couple of Primary songs. That little bit of tangy lemon was so good, but it didn't outweigh the unusable mess of that awful bakery and I have to throw it all away.

So after all the meltdowns, I have to go forward, keep breathing, and try again. I hope Dubai will be better. I know I will probably end up working a lot more than I am here. But I also know that the bakery is run by much better people. People who are concerned enough about my welfare to make sure I have an apartment when I arrive--an apartment with actual appliances.

I guess I should go look for plane tickets now. I need to get out of this place because while I am trying to just keep breathing, I hate breathing in my neighbor's Marlboro fumes.

The internet gods are finally smiling on me!

In the following posts you will find pictures. Lots! More than one! Actually about five per post, as it is all that blogger will let me post. Yeah!

Now for some quick news. My job sucks and I will be moving to another bakery in Dubai by the end of this month. Provided that my boss doesn't find a way to subterfuge me into staying. (Which would be a horrible mistake. I have a knack for pushing people away and being just plain hard to be around.) There is pretty much nothing he could do to get me to stay. The week of Valentine's I had to stop being in denial and realize that working 15-18 hour days for a guy who discounted all my advice and opinions as fatigue, illness, and PMS; who forgets that his employees are humans and need lives outside of work; and breaks promises made in employment contracts is not someone I want to work with.

So the bakery creator, who is based in Jordan, is sending me to work with my friend Aaron in Dubai. I should be there for four months, and if things go well I will work at a new shop in Abu Dhabi. I will miss my church branch, and especially my primary kids. Fortunately, everyone in the congregation is supportive...even though that means one of them will have to work with the primary kids...

Anyway, enjoy the pictures! There will be more soon (now that I've managed to figure this out). This whole project has taken more than an hour. One hour sitting in a smoky internet cafe with power anthems and love songs from the 80's and 90's playing in the background.

The laundry room also known as my kitchen. Since I have no appliances that make food (my little single burner died shortly after its purchase) the room has become my laundry room.

I do make peanut butter sandwiches in there. So I guess in an itty-bitty way it is still a kitchen.

The bamboo room has the best views of the sea. It also leaks; hence the collection of bowls and buckets at the end of the room. We have had thunderstorms everyday for over a week, and I have collected a lot of water.

This is my empty living room. As you can imagine, I don't spend too much time in here. It's basic function these days it to be a long, wide hallway and to collect dust. It's sad, really. There is a lot of unrealized potential in there.

This is my bedroom and my bed. I spend most of my time in here, sleeping mostly. But I now have a DVD player in my computer again so I get to watch movies if I get home early enough. The bed is comfortable.

This is the view from the bamboo room. The buildings below are from the American University of Beirut's campus. The belltower marks the hour--every hour. It woke me up on my first nights in the apartment.

I like my apartment, but let's be honest, I hate living in it. Mostly because I don't live in it; I just sleep and shower. My boss said I would have appliances and furniture in April, but there is no way that is happening. It is just another promise he has no intention of keeping. It's one of the reasons that I made that decision to be transfered to another bakery in Dubai. I'll miss this little place, but I look forward to the chance of having a fridge.

This picture was taken in Ashrafiyeh, a neighborhood I got to know when I lived there for one month at my friend Kristin's house. You can't really make it out, but the glowing sign is for Dou Dou Chinese Restaurant. An eyebrow-raising name,but pretty good Chinese food.

I live about a five-minute walk from the Mediterranean. I have had time to go down there once, and it was at night. It was still nice to hear crashing waves, feel the spray on my face, and see what the downtown looks like all aglow.

I hope I can come home with a nice persian rug...like this one.

The old buildings are usually inspired by either Ottoman architecture or Islamic.

These quirky stringed instruments are called auods, and are heavily present in Middle Eastern music. The Walton's, my missionary friends, invited me to a concert that was all traditional Lebanese music, and the above instruments probably made up a quarter of the orchestra. The music was fabulous.

This is Hamra Street. I live pretty close to this street, and it is usually where I head for dinner. I like Bread Republic because I can get a nice bowl of soup (lentille citron is favorite) and some slices of real bread. So good. Maybe that's where I will go tonight.

Details from the fancy and beautiful mosque in downtown Beirut. It is lovely, especially at night. The blue strip runs around the perimeter of the building, and is a chapter from the Koran. This mosque is actually pretty new; it was commissioned by the assinated Prime Minister Hariri, and only opened maybe two years ago.

A street in a more French-esque neighborhood with a lot of tiny restaurants and bars. I ate here once at a nice pizza place called Margherita. The best Italian-styled pizza I've had...since my trip to Italy seven years ago.

Here's that Mosque. Somehow my pictures got all jumbled. I am glad the picture turned out.

Beirut sits on top of ancient Beirut. (Kind of like Seattle, in a way.) This is a picture of some Roman baths that were unearthed. I hear there is a place for Turkish baths around here. I will have to see about indulging.

This is Rehani. He's in love with me, and for some reason I can't convince him otherwise. He is now back in Jordan, and I hope that distance will make the heart forget. (oh please, oh please) He's actually a great guy, and if he weren't a 20-year old muslim that didn't speak English maybe it would work out.

This is Rehani (again) with out barista Mansour, who likes to go by the name Vince. He claims it is an exact translation. I stated that I had no idea that "Mansour" meant "used car salesman" in Arabic. Yes, they are playing with knives. In the U.S. this would be grounds for dissmissal. Here...it's just good fun, even when someone does lose an eye.

Again with the knives. I think Rehani is just showing off. I didn't like this pose at first. (The guys tend to be mean to Rashid, but our dishwasher was eager for the shot. Boys. I just realized that I forgot to post another picture of Rashid. He is from Darfur, Sudan and has zero body fat. I was pretty sure he ran marathons when I first saw him. He's tough and wirey and could probably beat up just about anyone. Good thing he's about as gentle as a lamb. He speaks about three words of English, but with sign language, we manage to communicate rather well.

This is me the first day we opened. Oh, if I only knew what I had gotten myself into. For starters, the pants I am wearing are missing. I sent them out to be washed and they never returned. Now I wash my clothes by hand.

Smatterings of Frosting

Here is a selection of cakes I have iced while I've been in Beirut. I thought I had more photos to share, but I guess someone took pictures with their camera and not mine. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera when I iced special Saudi Arabia-themed cupcakes for the Saudi royal family. My boss took pictures, and maybe if we fast, pray and sacrifice a small animal he will remember to email them to me before I leave.