My passport, with its various stamps and stickers and languages - the blocky texts of Europe, the foreign scrolls of Thai and Urdu and Arabic, the oval stamps of the US Border Patrol - requires not one, but TWO agents questioning me as I prepare to board my homebound flight. In case anyone is concerned, safety is taken very, very seriously.
As I explained that yes, I took students on a field trip to Morocco, and yes, I drove to Oman on vacation because I live right next door, I realized what an amazing and ridiculous life I lead. I have a lot of vacation time. I have a summer vacation, don’t pay taxes, and travel to crazy places….. sometimes twice.
But it’s a trade-off.
To be blessed with such amazing things, you have to give things up, too.
Sunsets shot with gold and fuschia, brothers that become taller in your absence, nights with your best friend at a place where the bartender knows your name and the karaoke guy knows your songs, trees and rows of corn, black labs, autumn weather, the history of your life in a few boxes in the basement.
It’s always a bit weird to come home. In so many ways, it feels like I never left. Like my “other” life (or is it my “real” life?) could just be an elaborate (and very long) dream, even though I was just there hours ago.
I guess I have the best of both worlds. There are people and places I love on both sides of the ocean, and when I return to either place I can slip back in with barely a ripple, pick up where I left off.
More and more I’m realizing that Dubai itself is not what’s holding me there – it’s my friends and colleagues and students, the travel opportunities, the professional growth I’m experiencing. And when it’s time to move on, it’s those things I’ll miss – not the frantic and ever more ridiculous construction.
One thing I’m sure of – time flies. I can’t believe I’ve been in Dubai for two years now. They’ve been quite a ride – exciting and challenging in equal measure…. And year 3 promises to provide more of the same – and some brand new adventures.
