Many moons later....

So now I'm in Sweden; many moons later.  So much has changed since the last time I wrote a blog. 

Let me name a few ... or 10:

1. Finished out another year (2010) in Libya.
2. Came to Sweden on a Ski trip in February;
3. War broke out in Libya,
4. AECOM evacuated
5. and....I'm still here. 
6. Changed jobs.
7. Bought a flat.
8. Learning Swedish.
9. Adjusting to Sweden.
10. Making new friends
11.  Attending new friends weddings.

Oh, was that 11 things....  In any case, I've been here since February 2011 and today is the 25th of December; almost one year later.  Marcus and I bought a new flat together and are packing up our stuff as I write and will move January 4th after we return from our New Years trip to, Canada.  Our friends (we met here in Göteborg) are getting married!  They are having a New Year's eve wedding, so it's guaranteed to be jam packed with fun!!!

Why am I writing now, after all this time? Good and appropriate question. I've been thinking for awhile now that I should start blogging again.  Perhaps, some will find all the traveling and adjusting I do interesting (I doubt it) or maybe its just that I need to write.  What I am aware of however, is the fad of blogging is over.  People do not "blog" anymore.  And if they do, they've missed the boat on the adventures of Social Media. 

Heading Home....

It’s been a long time, again, I know...since I've written! I have to admit…I’m a bad blogger… And for those of you who haven’t given up on me…I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to write in regards to my last post. After reading it over again and learning more about the culture here – I realize that first; I sounded very ignorant and arrogant, and second; this man in the bathroom was simply washing off before his set prayer time. Most of you probably already knew that’s what was going on. I think what’s interesting in light of my reaction, is how ignorance can spark wrong or inequitable feelings and reactions. Sure, I am entitled to my own opinions – but the lack of sensitivity I showed this man, was by far the wrong reaction – at least according to my own standards. And to be quite honest with you, he showed me, a foreigner and woman way more consideration and understanding than he needed to. Should he have been bathing in a public airplane?…maybe not…maybe…but that’s not for me to decide. I have no right nor have I earned the right to make that decision.

Epiphany in an airplane

I have to tell you about a very odd experience I had on a flight to Benghazi from Tripoli. A couple of weeks ago, my boss (Director), the Sr. Director and I were on a flight to Benghazi. The plane was packed with your typical array of local men…women and children – and a few foreigners. The plane was old, rugged and a tad bit stinky... When I finally got to my seat, I noticed there was no arm rest, the seat belt was missing and the chair was in permanent recline - the flight attendants did not requested me to adjust the chair prior to take off. Finally, after an hour on the runway, crying babies, smelling men and staring women the plane was flying high in the sky. The food and beverage cart came through, 30 minutes into the flight, but I refused because I had felt the growing need to use the bathroom. I really wanted to wait until we landed and I got to my hotel room, for a couple of reasons…did not want to get up and make a scene, a 1,000 eyes staring at me while I walked the aisle and I didn’t want to brave the toilet situation. But I could not hold it much longer. So I mustered up the courage – the courage to walk the aisle, staring straight ahead, ignoring the eyes and under breath comments. I got up, walked to the back of the plane and noticed the bathroom on the left was occupied and the one on the right was vacant. So….I opened the door to the bathroom on the right. And low and behold…there was a man, literally, taking a bath in the sink. He looked at me and I at him – while he continued to splash water on his face, over his head and all over his arms. He was soaking wet and the bathroom was a disaster. I closed the door…and then…I thought…this is ridiculous…bathing and acting like a barbarian in a public bathroom. I opened the door again and told him to move on, with my thumb pointing outwards down the aisle, I told Mr. Clean to get out! I’m not sure if it was my stern look or his embarrassment, but he scurried and scampered and rushed out – but before I could close the door, he tossed an empty soap box back into the sink. As if I needed it… I shut the door, locked it and proceeded to clean the bathroom. The toilet was a complete mess….water, pee, shat and the likes everywhere. All I wanted to do was use the toilet…nothing big. But there I was, wiping off the toilet seat with soap and water…flushing the toilet 10 times to get it unclogged and drying everything off, so I could finally go. I even sprayed some of my perfume to make it smell better. After I was done, I walked back to my seat and sighed deeply….and thought…this is what I love…hate…but what I need. Somehow my life has become about cleaning up disasters…and I’ve become good at facing confrontation head on… Which is a very positive development… But I wonder if I’m becoming too strong. Will I always want to be in control…will I never be pleased or will I always think that somehow, I need to handle it, so IT gets done right?

Ramadan starts here tomorrow even though it officially starts on Saturday the 22^nd ...go figure!! ;-)