Wednesday, October 6, 2010


I am not a person that goes around thinking oh they are black or white or anything. I have always just noticed the beauty of the different colors. I loved the Cosby show, and even though I knew they didn't look like me I was never like ooh they are black. It wasn't until just in the last few years when some News thing made some comment about the way they changed TV that I thought about them being black. I know there are other people like me out there, and I don't know why we are the way we are and other people treat those of a different color as inferior. I have a cousin who is black. To my knowledge I have never asked why he was not the same color as me. I just knew he was my family. To this day I still don't know the whole story,  but I don't care. I do know that he is not adopted but both his mom and dad are white. I do wonder if when I was really little I asked questions or was prepped beforehand that he didn't look like the rest of us.
Why are you writing a blog about skin then?
Well, because I now notice different skins to some degree. There are very few white people here and so I get stared at all the time. Tonight in the grocery store some little girl was staring at me and when I caught her she covered her face with a loaf of bread. It made me think, if I had never seen a white person before would I think something was wrong with them? I wonder if she has even heard of white people. Even though my hair is not light blond anymore it is still blond. My eyes are blue and my skin is pretty white. It makes me think back to a family I was close to in high school. At that time the term I heard people using was "our town's resident black family". I knew they were my friends and looked like my cousin, but now that I am at the "being stared at" end of the spectrum it makes me wonder how they felt. Most of the time people eventually quit staring and move on. One of the workers though who was installing my water heater, who looked Asian, stared at me constantly. I really got tired of it, and the childish phrase "Take a picture, it was last longer" entered my thoughts.  I didn't say it and still wouldn't have said it even if he spoke and understood English. Luckily I was able to finally escape to a place where he couldn't stare at me.
I also notice other white people now wherever I go because there are so few of us. Tonight I practically ran into a white guy when I was leaving, and he was entering. He seemed surprised to see me too.
But I still see lots of beautiful skin colors. Some of them are ones I have never seen before. I have also noticed that while there are lighter skinned people here all of them have brown hair and brown eyes or black hair and brown eyes. Ok, I should amend that statement. All of the hair I have seen that is not covered by the tudung the Muslim women wear is brown or black. Sometimes I get a glimpse of the hair on the sides or top that peeks out and it is always brown or black. I guess maybe some of them could have blond hair, and I would never know, but it seems like genetically they all have brown or black hair.
I read another blog about that mentioned skin in it tonight and that also got me thinking. As that person stated it is hard to blend it. Now matter where I go here I will always stand out. I used to wish sometimes that some guy (not every guy) would stare at me because he thought I was beautiful. Here when a guy stares at me for a prolonged period of time it makes me nervous. Especially when I am alone. I am thinking, what is he thinking about. Even at the wine dinner last Friday even though I looked somewhat similar to most of the people there I still stood out. They all had brown hair. I didn't get a good look at the eyes. They were all slender. They all had different accents than me. I still felt like the outsider since they all had things in common and talked similar because I still look different, and sound, and am at a different point in my life.
I used to smile at everyone that looked at me. Sometimes I would smile and say hello,  but now I have quit doing that because they never smile or say hello back.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Dorm Room vs. Cloister

When I first moved into my room I referred to it as my cloister. I posted pictures and my Mom thought it looked similar to a dorm room. While it may look similar to a dorm room it is not a dorm. My room is quiet most of the time, for the most part I enjoy the quiet after a day at school (we rotate rooms and sometimes I am in the room with another class during my planning periods and those classes are wild and the students noisy). Sometimes it is just so quiet though. I have my Ipod but I don't like to have my headphones on in case the landlord or servant comes to knock on my door. I wish I had brought my little speakers with me. I have looked but not found any yet. The landlord comes and goes. The servants, cook, clean, and take care of the old lady, so there is some coming and going outside my room. There are not people dropping by to visit of invite me to go do some thing or go somewhere.  I had blank wall, out I must put up with them. The walls are concrete so it would be really hard to nail something, but I am not even allowed to use sticky tack or double sided tape. I don't have a roommate. I do have my own bathroom which I don't have to share. I have to go elsewhere to do my laundry. In my dorm we had a kitchen that was share where we could cook. Here I can just have my fridge and microwave and only do whatever heating/cooking I can in the microwave. It is not exciting like a dorm. I know I am older, and I wouldn't appreciate people up and being loud late at night, but I miss having random people drop by to visit or do things with.


I miss my friends. I miss visiting with them everyday. E-mail and Facebook are nice, but it is not the same. Instead of getting a reply right then, I have to wait back to hear from them.
The other teachers are ok. They aren't really friendly. One guy I rarely see and never talk to. Another lady I see sometimes, but she also doesn't talk to me. One lady is very nice, and we visit a little bit, but she is part time so I don't see her very often. Another lady I see every day, and she always asks me how its going, but that is about it.  The last lady, who I also share a room with is pretty nice. We visit sometimes. Her husband also works at the school so they are together most of the time. She was trying to be very helpful at first telling me I was paying too much for my place, and that I should get a car. I appreciated her trying to help me but I feel like I am doing what is best for me right now. Maybe after I have lived here for awhile I might feel more comfortable getting a car and driving, and maybe move to a nicer and cheaper place, but for now it is ok. I don't know if she is disappointed that I have not taken her advice and that is why she no longer really visits with me or what.
The friendliest person is the Director of Studies (Principal). He is from America, although he married a Malay woman and has lived here for several years now. We still don't visit much about things not related to school. The owner tells me stories all the time of when he lived in America. Things have been kind of crazy lately with help, so I haven't had a chance much to visit with the owner's wife, but again there is that separation.

I miss telling friends about how my classes went. Any funny or frustrating stories. I miss telling my friends about things I have noticed or learned. I have blogged about some of them, but it is not the same.
I miss talking to my best friend. We haven't lived close to each other for years, but we still e-mailed consistently and would talk on the phone. Now when I have something I really want to tell her I have to e-mail her and wait for her reply or wait for a day and time to call her and try to catch her at home, which is even harder with the time difference. She also can't call me back, so I can leave a message, but she has to wait for me to call her again before we can talk.
The ex-pat group that I went out with the other night had some very nice people. I potentially may have some friends there. I don't know how close we will get. We are all here for a limited period of time before we move on.  I don't know if they would understand my humor either with cultural difference, references, and even the language to some degree. I think they will be helpful to some degree if I need help and will include me sometimes on things, but like I said I don't know how close we will be.

My Mom always says it just takes a minute for your life to change. When you are least expecting it you could meet the guy you are going to marry. I have always wanted to marry a man with a British or Australian accent. I really was hoping that there would be several single guys at the wine dinner, all with THE accent. Alas, it was not to be.

I know myself well though. I would probably meet some guy over here, and I would want to date him, but I would not want to date him because I would think I am going to be moving back to the US in a few years, and I don't want to start a relationship and then break up when I move.  I have done that several times now. I might have met my future husband if I didn't do that. Maybe I met him already but missed my opportunity.

Ok, I am going to stop there before I sound more pathetic than I already am.

Locked Kitchen

So,  it was few weeks ago we had the day off on a Thursday (9/16). I stayed up late that Wednesday working on my new online class that just started. I got busy and forgot all about eating until 10:30p.m. Normally if I get hungry that late or later I won't eat because I don't want to start the bad habit of a midnight snack. I was so hungry though and thought I would eat a small salad. I went down to the kitchen and the door was lock. My fridge is out in the dining room area, but my dishes and silverware were in the kitchen. Plus, I had no way to wash the lettuce. Luckily, I had a new thing of crackers that I had not yet opened, so I broke my no eating in my room rule, and ate my crackers over the box and then put it in a tupperware to keep the ants away. Last night I got home at like 8:00ish and went upstairs to put my stuff away. I got done around 9:00 and decided to go downstairs for a small snack. The kitchen was locked again. What the heck people! I have a new box of crackers, but no tupperware to put them in, so went without food. It only takes just a few minutes for ants to get started if they smell/sense food has been left out. Even if I forget to eat the apple that I sometimes take to school I put it back in the fridge rather than leaving it in my backpack.
I don't know if they have had people break into the house at night and break into the kitchen. Do they not trust the people renting that they think once they have gone to bed we are going to raid their fridge? I could raid it during the day when they aren't in the kitchen and off working somewhere else.

Update: 1/21/11
They still lock the kitchen at night, and it still bugs me. I just don't see any reason for it. Tonight I had an early dinner but decided about 8:30ish that I want dessert. Nope, no dessert for me the kitchen is locked. Hello, I can't get to my dishes and microwave that are in there.  I really see no reason to lock the kitchen door. As I have said before the renters could steal food during the day when they are off working or in their room.