Adventures in Kuwait

There are 2 places I have ever been in my life to which I feel no need or desire to ever return. This past summer, North Dakota became one of those places. I've been to North Dakota before, but I was able to read a book or sleep through it then. Driving through it on my own, those 2 options were not available to me. As much as I wanted out of North Dakota, I would rather be there , driving through endless fields than where I was this past weekend: Kuwait.

I went with 3 other teachers and 20 students (6 for whom I was responsible) to a fine arts festival. I was a bit hesitant, since I heard horror stories of the trip to the same school 2 years ago - no, that's an exaggeration. Not horror stories, merely details of great boredom and an unfulfilling time. The same proved true this year.

Our Kuwaiti adventure really started when we arrived at the Dubai Airport and were met by one of our fabulous workers who had just then collected 3 passports from the Kuwait Embassy with visas for 6 people (those who have Indian, South African or Lebanese passports). We were at the airport with quite a lot of time to spare, which was good, because checking in a group of 24 is always something of an ordeal. We all had time to eat a leisurely lunch (what did I have? Pad Thai, of course!), do a little shopping at the Duty Free (I purchased Peanut M&Ms, which are now my travelling staple) and arrive at the gate without feeling hurried. The flight was short and lovely - the movie selection was quite large and very up to date - and we arrived in Kuwait.

Aside from the 3 who'd had to get visas beforehand, the other 21 of us needed to be issued visas at the airport. We found the visa issuing counter, and we were told that we should all just go through the line together with just one number from the number ticket machine. A teacher went with some students to exchange money (since they hadn't done that in Dubai, for some reason) and when they returned a few minutes later, they were surprised to learn that we had been all told to take our own numbers and go through separately. We hung around the visa issuing place for a long time. I don't know how long, but it felt like years.

Finally, we all had visas, and we went downstairs to go through passport control. It was chaos! Absolute bedlam - an incredibly small room and a cast of thousands! In an effort to clear out some people, someone from upstairs came and ushered our group through a special line and we were out. Most of us, that is. Our one Lebanese student (with a previously issued visa) had a problem, and was still behind passport control with the band director when everyone else was already through and collecting baggage. We didn't communicate well - I was waiting for those 2 to make it through passport control when everyone else went through security. Our luggage had all been separated and put in a centralized location, but no one took the teacher and student's bags with them when they went through security, and by the time we got there, the bags had been removed by the baggage handlers to the lost luggage facility - 2 suitcases and a euphonium. Fortunately, they were able to claim them in a relatively short time.

We were met by faculty from the host school, and we went out to wait for the bus. We were all a bit nervous when we loaded our luggage into the back of a pick up truck. I was especially nervous, since my case was on top! The driver tied it all down, though, and everything made it in one piece. Driving in the dark through Kuwait, the city seemed like a copy of Dubai. Seeing it in the daylight was a different story. At the school, we were met by our hosts, the students were all taken away, and I left with my hosts - a teaching couple in their second year in Kuwait. It was nice to converse with them a bit; we didn't see much of each other - we were all quite busy. They lived a 5 minutes' walk from the school, which was lovely! The 5 minutes part, not necessarily the walk. I did chuckle, though, because the path took me through a hole in the wall - literally; someone broke through the wall to create a walk space - and missing chain link fence. I was not impressed with how dirty and unkempt Kuwait seemed to me. I really missed the clean glitz of Dubai. My hosts' apartment looked out over a small amusement park and the Gulf. That was lovely - open the curtains and see the Gulf. I enjoyed that.

Arriving at the school the first full day of the festival, I was struck by 2 things - the school looked a lot dirtier in the daylight, and everything seemed disorganized. Both of these things would only become more pronounced as the festival progressed. When we went for our first choir rehearsal, the room wasn't set up, the host choir director was also the festival director so he was out doing other things, and the other visiting choir teacher and I were left without instructions. Of course, being professionals, we went ahead and started rehearsing, but had we not been proactive, nothing would have been accomplished. The school was dirty - really dirty, and the cleaners don't work on the weekend. Being at that school made me appreciate even more what I have - how fortunate I am to work where I do.

We rehearsed for 2 and a half days - did a lot of note banging. I fully admit that my choir students were not as prepared as they should have been. Not many other students were, either. In the week leading up to the festival, I had emailed a bit with the director, asking what he needed me to do, what our sessions would consist of - I knew that if we did nothing but rehearse, all day, everyday, I would go crazy. I wanted to know if there were any other types of musical activities the students would engage in. He didn't respond, but he was busy. I warn you: this next part will sound a bit snobby and boastful. This weekend was very good for my ego - I've been feeling rather down on myself as a teacher because I can't seem to motivate or connect with my Grade 8 Choir. After observing 3 other choral directors, I'm feeling pretty good. I know I'm not the best choral conductor in the world, but after this weekend I know I'm not the worst. That's not to say these other teachers are horrible, but none of them is a trained choral specialist. They are all fine instrumentalists who are capable singers, but actually teaching students to sing, and sing well as a choir is a different thing. I was also amused when the choir host started running things past me - well, amused and somewhat at a loss, I mean, he's in charge! - concerning concert order, where the choir should stand, etc. I'm really not a pushy person, but if no one else takes charge, then by jingo, I'll do it! I can't stand wasted time during rehearsal. (I'm all for quiet moments/hours/days during weekends and holidays).

In thinking back over the weekend, I am trying to remember that our students enjoyed themselves. They all said they were glad they went. I'm glad for them. They had fun, but I wanted more for them than that. I wanted them to grow as musicians - to be so inspired by the choir that they wanted to be better singers. I didn't see it happen for them. They made new friends, and enjoyed singing, but that's all it was. They sang; they didn't make music. I also wanted more for myself. I wanted to observe and learn from other choir teachers. That didn't happen, really. It's always wonderful to converse with other music educators, but...

The true adventure started on our last day. All of us were ready to return home. Our flight didn't leave until 6:10PM. We had the entire day to spend in Kuwait. What did we do? We went to the Mall. Yes. I have now spent 7 hours in a Kuwaiti mall. What joy fills my heart. The festival organizer told us the mall was a 6 minute drive from the airport, so the bus would pick us up at 4:00. It was a bit late, but no big deal, right? 6 minutes from the airport. 20 minutes later, we were concerned. We kept seeing signs for the airport, but we didn't seem to get any closer. Then, we could see the radar tower, so we knew we were close. It's now 4:40. Still not at the airport. None of us spoke Arabic (except our 13 year old freshman euphonium player, who met a boy in Kuwait and formed a deep and abiding love with someone at the festival, and was too busy with heart broken tears to form coherent sentences) and our driver didn't speak English. We called the director, who was flabbergasted. We should have been there 20 minutes before. When we described to him where we were, he said we were close - 5 minutes away, and if were weren't at the airport in 5 minutes, we should call him. We called him from not at the airport. We seemed to be going in circles. We would get off the highway and then get back on it going the other way. Another teacher remarked that it was like "Gilligan's Island" - and so we started to come up with our own version of the song: "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip that started from a shopping mall for a 6 minute drive, a 6 minute drive." and so on.
For this phone conversation, the director had an Arabic speaker with him, so we handed the phone off to our driver, and thus ensued a loud shouting match between our driver and the person on the phone. An attitude change came over our driver, and he began to speed and drive even more recklessly than before - it was a bit scary. Finally, we arrived at the airport at 5:00PM. Our flight was supposed to leave at 6:10. Plenty of time, right? Well, checking in a group of 24 takes about 20- 30 minutes, not counting the time to get through a few rounds of security, passport control, and then to make it to the gate (which of course was the furthest away possible). Our airline was very gracious and had multiple people checking us in, which sort of sped up the proces. At this point, it was 5:45, and they were making the final boarding call. We started to walk briskly, with a purpose. Thankfully, the Kuwait airport is much smaller than the Dubai airport, so the distances were not as great, but still! At passport control, though, we ran into another problem - our 3 people who'd had visas issued before getting to Kuwait didn't have stamps in their passports. Remember when I told you about the person opening up the door to let us all through when we came? Yeah - no one checked their passports. They were held up and taken to the immigration officer who wanted to know how they got into the country. It's 6:00. A decision is made that one other teacher and I will take the other 18 kids and board the plane, while the third teacher waited for the 2 students and other teacher being detained for immigration. They were told by the officials that they would call the plane and ask them to delay for as long as possible. At this point, my phone battery died, the other teacher was out of credit, and we got on the plane. We were all exceedingly grateful, then, when the other 4 boarded the plane. We took off only 25 minutes late. Whew.

And then we were home! And Dubai looked shiny and clean and new, and bright and sparkly, and there were no lines at passport control, amazingly enough, and it was fabulous! We whizzed through, picked up our baggage and headed out. All of the parents were there to meet the students - no waiting around for a precious one to be picked up, and we went home. One of my colleagues' husband picked us all up and took us back to school where I greeeted our beautiful, clean school, and I got into my beautiful, dirty car and drove home. I took a shower (the better to wash Kuwait off me) and fell into blissful sleep in my own bed, with my own pillows. Life is good.

And if I had to choose between North Dakota, Kuwait or death, I'm not sure what my response would be. No, that's not true. I don't really want to die (yet), so I'd choose North Dakota, because I could communicate a bit better. My North Dakotan's not so hot, but it's gotta be better than my Arabic which is non-existent.