Today was my last day working at Z’s Espresso. I only worked there for a couple of months. Although it may not have been a long lasting job, it made an impact. I’m glad I had the opportunity to be a barista just for a bit. I can remember on really difficult teaching days, I’d wish I was just working at some little coffee shop. I romanticized the idea and longed for a job that was laid back and didn’t require me to bring work home. Now I can say I’ve done it and here’s what I learned:
1) New Skills
It is uncomfortable to learn a new skill. It’s hard being the one who’s always asking questions, the one who’s messing up drinks, the one who feels timid and unsure. I was trained by girls who were young enough to have been my former students. They were fast at making drinks and unfazed by difficult orders. I was now the student and it was hard. But with every passing day I got a little faster and a little more comfortable. I learned I am capable of getting through the discomfort of learning new skills. If I can persevere through this, I can persevere through whatever’s next.
At Z’s I frequently ran into former colleagues, students, and supervisors. Where I used to be seen as a respected authority figure, now I was a humble barista, serving coffee. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a barista, but seeing people from a past life in this new context often produced looks of confusion or sympathy from them. I always felt the need to justify myself for being there. As time went on, I became a bit more comfortable in my new role, but I don’t think I ever completely got over this one. It was definitely a lesson to become more humble and stop using my profession as my sole identity.
The college students who became my coworkers were kind, patient, nonjudgmental, and hard working. Many of them got to the coffee shop at 5:30am, worked the morning shift, and then went straight to class for the rest of the day. I was so impressed with their work ethic and maturity. I often hear complaints about younger generations entering the workforce, but these young women will go far. Anyone would be lucky to employ them.
Minimum wage in Kansas, $7.25 an hour, is not a living wage. It doesn’t even cover a grocery trip, much less housing, utilities, gas, and other necessities. I don’t know how anyone can survive on that kind of pay. Unfortunately the tips weren’t much better. Most shifts I’d make about $15-$25 in tips and I discovered most people don’t tip. The baristas are extremely grateful for those who do. For my family, even with my husband working full time, the pay here was too low for me to continue. There are a few reasons why I decided to move on, but this was one of the factors.
Working at Z’s had its ups and downs, but overall it was a positive experience. It was eye opening to actually do the job I had romanticized. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. This job came at the right time though. During a time I was feeling unsure about myself and my next steps, it got me out of bed in the morning and gave me something to fill my day. It also gave me the motivation and desire to start looking more seriously for my next career. I may be moving on, but those months in the coffee shop weren’t for nothing. I met great people and I have a newappreciation for people in service industries. I know I am capable of learning new things and I’m ready to start over wherever that may be. Stay tuned.
I ended a big chapter in my life. After calling Tunisia home for two years, Justin and I ended our teaching contracts, we packed up our things, and said goodbye. On our final night in the house, I had my own little ceremony to represent all of the big feelings brimming under the surface. Over the past two years, we had a tradition in our house to write down things we were thankful for and put them in a vase. We collected enough gratitude to fill a large glass vase and I wasn’t sure what to do with the scrolls of paper now that we were leaving.
Those colorful papers were filled with big and little things we’d written; fresh peaches, sleeping in, beautiful flowers and sunsets, friendship, connection with family back in Kansas. I decided to put all of those good thoughts into a bowl and burn them, sending our gratitude into the universe in plumes of smoke. That night, I watched the fire burn and enjoyed our peaceful garden one last time. Eventually, the papers were replaced by a pile of ashes. I poured them into a flower bed with the thought that our words of gratitude will literally bloom and stay in Tunisia long after we’re gone.
That was about 4 months ago. Now, that big white house, our orange car, the bluest skies, and Roman ruins seem like a distant memory, like maybe it was all just a dream. We have settled into our new home, surrounded by friends and family. It feels good. Despite the impressions given off on social media, our final year in Tunisia was hard. It was more than Mediterranean views and cute kittens climbing into our yard. Leaving was the right choice for our family. I’m beyond grateful for my time there; the lessons I learned and memories I made, but I knew we could not stay. It was time to move forward in a new direction.
And that brings me to the present day. I’m working part time as a barista, creating art and job searching for something more permanent. Let me be more specific. I’m job searching despite the fact that I have no clue what I want to do. I’ve been a teacher for 12 years. It’s the only professional career I’ve known. How do you break into a new career when 1) You don’t know what that should be, and 2) You don’t have the degrees or experience requested on the job postings? People have been telling me there are SOOOO many job openings right now, but I can’t seem to get my foot in the door. I’ve been scrolling though Indeed.com, going to networking events, writing cover letters, and applying to a variety of jobs that sound intriguing. Sometimes I choose job postings because they seem like a good place to work- art museums, universities, or small innovative companies. Sometimes I choose job postings based on my interests- jobs related to design, travel, writing, or creativity.
Though this process can be frustrating, I’m trying to keep in mind that this is also an exciting time. I am making a leap and to me, that is the best feeling. I think back to the times in my life right before big changes and I smile. I had no clue of all the wonderful and challenging things lying ahead of me, the things that have forced me to grow and change into the person I am today. The person I am today is a better person than I was the year before or the year before that. I’m glad that I continue to evolve and I want to keep pushing myself to do so.
As Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” I’ve discovered that big change leads to soul searching and self-discovery like nothing else can. So although I don’t know what lies ahead, I know a better me is waiting on the other side. I also know that the opportunities that don’t work out are not meant to work out. There is something else out there. I just haven’t found it yet, but I will. I just have to be patient and open to the universe.
One of the things that has kept me motivated is a poem written by the Irish poet and priest, John O’Donohue. This poem was written on a bookmark and given to me when I left my school in Tunisia. If you are going though a time of change or considering one, I hope this gives you the focus and faith that it has given me.
For A New Beginning
In out-of-the-way places of the heart, Where your thoughts never think to wander, This beginning has been quietly forming, Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
For a long time it has watched your desire, Feeling the emptiness growing inside you, Noticing how you willed yourself on, Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.
It watched you play with the seduction of safety And the gray promises that sameness whispered, Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent, Wondered would you always live like this.
Then the delight, when your courage kindled, And out you stepped onto new ground, Your eyes young again with energy and dream, A path of plenitude opening before you.
Though your destination is not yet clear You can trust the promise of this opening; Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning That is at one with your life's desire.
Awaken your spirit to adventure; Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk; Soon you will home in a new rhythm, For your soul senses the world that awaits you.
We were fortunate enough to spend our Thanksgiving break in Paris this year. Planning a trip abroad with children has a different vibe than what I’d plan for my husband and me. If it were only Justin and I going, we’d be happy spending hours sitting in cafes and wandering around the city aimlessly. However, with a 6 and 9-year-old in tow, a little more structure was necessary. This trip wasn’t intended as a romantic or leisurely vacation. It was a memory-maker. It was about experiencing something grand together. It was about balancing everybody’s wants and needs. I knew we wouldn’t be able to stay out late at night. I knew we’d need breaks. I knew we’d need food everyone would enjoy and activities everyone would be interested in. I think we struck a good balance and were able to bond as a family.
If you happen to be in the market for a family trip to Paris, here are the top 5 most successful parts of our vacation. It was our first time there and we had a short period of time to experience this beautiful city. TripAdvisor, more experienced travelers’ blogs, and advice from friends were invaluable to the planning process. But if you’d like a beginner’s view of family-friendly activities in Paris, read on.
1. The National Museum of Natural History
On our first morning, we set off for the National Museum of Natural History. The name doesn’t quite do it justice. It’s not A museum. It’s an entire property of gardens, buildings, greenhouses, and zoos. I was glad I had done my research. I bought tickets to two separate exhibits. The Grand Gallery of Evolution and the Menagerie Garden. The Grande Gallerie de L’Evolution was an immense, 19th Century, multi-story hall filled with over 7,000 preserved specimens; everything from butterflies to giraffes. The Menagerie was like a mini zoo- not quite as spectacular, but we spent a decent amount of time mesmerized by an adorable baby orangutan playing with his parents. If I were to go again, I think I’d include tickets to the Gallery of Paleontology to see the dinosaur fossils as well.
When in Paris, you eat! But this is another area that had to be planned differently with children in mind. It would be fun to eat at a fancy, French restaurant with Michelin stars, but my kids are not going to appreciate Safran Arancinis and Tapenade with Truffle Vinegar Dressing. They want cheese pizza, and don’t put those green basil leaves on it! I also had to find restaurants that had food everyone would like and could accommodate a gluten-free diet.
On our first day, we ate lunch at Little Nona, where every item on the menu is gluten-free. With dietary restrictions, it’s a huge win when you can order pizza and dessert and it actually tastes good.
At Coquelicot, an adorable little boulangerie (bakery) restaurant in the quaint district of Montmartre, we sat in a room filled with Christmas decorations and I had quiche lorraine and a chocolate eclair for breakfast.
A highlight for the kids was our visit to Cafe Des Chats (Cafe of Cats) where we ate cheesecake and molten lava cake with cats wandering around under our feet, sleeping on the chairs beside us, and occasionally hopping up on the tabletops to say hello. If you are in the area, go for the coffee, dessert, and purrs.
In this hip, little place called The Hood that serves modern takes on fast Asian food, I had the creamiest, most perfectly spiced, not-too-sweet chai latte I’ve ever tasted. That’s not my typical order, but after trying Justin’s, I immediately called the waitress back over to order my own.
On our last night, we visited Carmine for dinner. The nice thing about Paris is that we are on an American kid’s eating schedule, and the restaurants are empty at 5:30pm. Parisians typically don’t dine until much later in the evening, so we had the place to ourselves. Justin had a perfectly cooked steak. The kids ordered pizzas and were delighted when they arrived in the shape of bunnies, complete with black olive eyes and noses. The wait staff was so friendly and, big bonus, we were within walking distance to the Eiffel Tower for an after-dinner stroll to work off those extra tiramisu calories.
Visiting the Montmartre district was my favorite part of our trip to Paris. There was an adorable Christmas village, complete with mini log cabin huts for vendors to sell their hats, cheeses, candies, and leather goods. Montmartre is covered in cobblestone streets and quaint views that are fun to explore and filled with secret treasures like the Wall of Love, a mural with “I loveyou” written in 250 different languages.
As we wandered around the winding roads we found a series of stairs leading up to the top of a hill where the Sacré-Cœur Catholic Church sits in all its intricate glory. We climbed the steps where the views were beautiful from every angle and the higher we got, the more expansive view of the city we could behold. Inside the cathedral, Justin and the kids lit a candle, took an awe-inspiring lap around the perimeter, and listened to angelic, soothing prayers and songs in the beautiful French language. It was a spiritual experience.
4. The Louvre
A trip to Paris would not be complete without a visit to the most famous art museum in the world! I was told ahead of time that I needed to plan a route and stick to it or we would get lost in a maze of buildings, wings, hallways, and seemingly endless rooms. I went in with a loose plan to find the most famous masterpieces and, if we were feeling up for it, we’d swing by the Ancient Egyptian and/or Medieval exhibits.
Even with a plan, we got lost. However, we managed to see the Mona Lisa, which was smaller than we expected. With some guidance, we also found one of my favorite paintings of all time, The Raft of the Medusa, which was bigger than I expected. The Raft of the Medusa, by Théodore Géricault, is a highly emotional piece, based on a real-life shipwreck. It’s the perfect representation of hope and despair and brought tears to my eyes.
We tried to make the trip entertaining for the kids as well. My husband cracked jokes and told stories about the most over-the-top paintings he could find. We tasked Teddy and Penny with finding the piece they liked best and tried to keep a pretty quick pace. Justin and I could have spent all day in the Louvre, but, with Teddy and Penelope in tow, a morning amongst the beauty and history was what we got and I’m so thankful for that experience.
We did this trip on a budget (around $3000 for everything including flights, our AirBNB, food, taxis, PCR tests, etc.) but how could I go to Paris without doing a little shopping?
There are plenty of cheap, touristy shops selling berets for 3 euros and tacky Eiffel Tower keychains, but those things don’t match the elegance and culture of Paris. My daughter came to Paris with a hand-me-down coat. She was too big for her old winter coat and we hadn’t found time to buy a new one in the mild Tunisian weather. Her souvenir was a coat from an adorable boutique called Bonton. She got to use it immediately as we walked from place to place in the cold rain. She’ll get use out of it for the next year or so and every time she puts it on, she can remember Paris.
In a serendipitous meeting with a Christmas market vendor from Tunisia, I purchased my Paris souvenir. I was lucky enough to find a badass leather jacket that I’ve been searching for for over a year.
Another fun shopping stop was visiting Ladurée where they make the best macarons in the world. We got a box of 12 brightly colored macarons for 35 euros, a bit pricey for cookies. It was a splurge for the experience of saying we’ve had the best and the fun of picking out our 12 different flavors in their fancy shop. I’m not typically a fan of macarons. The ones I’ve had always taste stale and too sweet, but I must say, these were pretty special; interesting, distinct flavors, perfect, fresh texture, and of course they were as beautiful to look at as they were to eat. We polished them off in 2 days!
The weather may have been harsh, but there’s something a bit romantic and adventurous about roaming around a historical city in the rain. I will forever be grateful that I was able to swap my Thanksgiving pumpkin pie for French pastries and spend a few days as a Parisian. We took in the soaring buildings, the stone facades covered in sculptures and lined with intricate balconies. We walked past locals bundled up in fashionable long coats exiting bakeries with baguettes and croissants. Normally we don’t go out in this kind of weather, but we were in Paris. We had to soak it all in and that included soaking in the cold and rain. A bit of a drizzle wasn’t going to stop us. We had things to see and cappuccinos to drink! But more than the magnificent buildings and fabulous food, I’ll always treasure the memories of my children’s faces as they experienced this magical place for the first time with me.
After 10 years of blood, sweat, and tears, spending nights and weekends at school, always putting my job first, and forming my identity around being a teacher, I clicked send on my resignation email at my old school district. And do you know what? I never even got a reply. Not even a “We will miss you” or “Sorry to see you go” or “Got it. Thanks for letting me know.” Nothing. Radio silence. And that was the moment it really clicked. I am replaceable. At that moment, I knew I made the right decision to leave.
Don’t get me wrong. I know what I did mattered. I taught hundreds of kids. I made a few life-long friends. I earned money for my family. And after getting laid off during my first year of teaching due to budget cuts, I understood how lucky I was to have a job. Working is a great thing. Lord knows I’m not cut out to be a stay at home mom. Much respect for parents who can do that and keep their sanity!
This post is not for complaining about work. It’s not about getting a pat on the back or sympathy. It’s simply my musings on the balance between healthy work versus letting your work take advantage of you. From what I’ve seen, it’s all too common especially for those working in a service industry like teaching or nursing.
This post is also not about vilifying our bosses. The people who have pressured me to be their “work-horse” are also working damn hard. They are, in turn, being pressured from their bosses who are being pressured from their bosses and so on and so on. This trend goes all the way up into the elected officials who are pressured into divvying up a budget that never seems to have enough money to properly fund schools.
There is a difference between doing your job well and being milked for all your worth. I’ve learned that my time, talents, degree, and expertise are worth something, but it took me a long time to come to that conclusion and even longer to understand the power of saying no.
When Justin had his first teaching gig in North Carolina, right after we were married, he was a High School Theatre teacher. Part of his job was to direct plays. For anyone who’s ever been involved in theatre, you know how much time and effort it takes to put on a show. It’s hours of rehearsals, multiple nights a week and sometimes weekends too. We went days without seeing each other. And guess how much he got paid for this extra work. $0.
I also have a love of theatre and co-founded a Drama Department at my Elementary School. We put on a full-fledged show with costumes, sets, lights, and sound. It was months of work, and guess how much I got paid? $0 until after the 3rd year when I finally went to the school board and asked for compensation to continue.
The list goes on. My first year as the art teacher, I had 800 students and a $0 budget for supplies. The PE teacher at our school was expected to teach 2 classes at a time so they didn’t have to pay for another teacher. Can you imagine teaching over 40 kids running around a gym? It’s not pretty.
I gladly went above and beyond my contract for the “sake of the kids.” But in the end, I sacrificed the time I could have been spending with my own children. I felt guilty that I was being a bad mom when I was working late and I felt guilty about being a bad teacher when I was at home playing with my kids. All the while, I should have been taking care of myself, but that was always the last priority. The result was a burnt-out teacher, a stressed and distracted wife, and an exhausted and unhappy mom. That person wasn’t able to help anyone.
If you asked me to make a list of my priorities, I would have said my kids first, then husband, then work, then friends, and finally me, if there was anything left of me at that point. (By the way, that would not be how I would order it today, but I’ll get back to that later.) It sounded good in my head. It was accurate in theory, but if someone were to follow me around for a week and report back on how my life was actually reflecting my priorities, that person would say my top priority was work. That’s where I spent most of my time and energy. If you list out your priorities, and then compare it with where your time actually goes, do they line up? Mine didn’t.
But work was always pushing. There was always a new initiative, a committee to join, Open House Night or Science Fair Night or Parent Teacher Conference Night. Work always seemed to demand my attention. Those papers weren’t going to grade themselves. It’s not like I could show up unprepared in front of 20 kids without lesson plans and copies made. My “plan time” was always filled with meetings. But hey, occasionally I got a “jeans day pass” or a piece of candy in my school mailbox, so surely they cared about my mental health, right?
I’m not even remotely surprised by the number of teachers leaving the profession; beloved teachers who are passionate and committed. I once heard a community member openly state during a board meeting that the way to solve the budget crisis in schools is to pay teachers less. “Teachers aren’t doing it for the money. They are doing it because they love it.” If that’s not enough to make you throw in the towel, I don’t know what is! But it’s a prevalent and dangerous misconception. If you love and care about your job, you shouldn’t care about the compensation. Sacrifice yourself for the good of others. And the shitty part is, it works. Teachers continuously work for free and as long as they do that, it will remain the expectation. Not only is it wrong, but it devalues your expertise and devalues the profession. If we don’t care enough to stand up for ourselves and why should anyone else?
Now, here comes the good news. I am still teaching BUT
I have hours of plan time each day to get work done.
I no longer spend my nights and weekends at school.
Typically I have a teacher assistant to help with things like grading and making copies.
My classroom doesn’t look like something off of Pinterest, but miraculously the students still learn. In fact, I feel I am a more effective teacher than I’ve ever been before.
I have enough money and time for vacations.
I come home to a clean house and dinner ready so when I’m tired from a busy day at work, I can actually relax.
I go to social events, date nights, and a dance class every Monday night.
I’ve rediscovered my love of art and writing.
Too good to be true? Hint, hint, it’s recruiting season for International Schools!
With that said, it takes more than just a new job to break out of unhealthy work-life balance habits. It would be easy to go gung-ho and fall right back into the old trap of misaligned priorities. You can still work at an International School and be a workaholic. There will always be pressure to do a little more, and I am more than happy to lead a Professional Development session or sponsor a once-a-week after school activity or join a committee that could use my help, but I also know my limits. I’m not willing to be the rubber band that gets so stretched that it snaps.
Is that selfish? Hell yes! I now embrace my selfishness. I love to take care of me. And the magical thing about taking care of myself is that it benefits the people around me too. I’m not as quick to yell at my kids. I’m more relaxed and happy with my class. I flirt and laugh with my husband. It seems counter intuitive, but when I stopped trying to please others, I became a better partner, friend, mother, and teacher. My priorities might not match where my time is spent 100% of the time, but it’s a whole lot closer than it used to be. I have the work-life balance I never thought I’d get. I live with less guilt. I mean it’s not completely gone. I went to Catholic School for 13 years. That Catholic Guilt is part of my DNA at this point, but it’s better! I live with the power of knowing I am replaceable at work, but not at home. I respect myself and my family enough to not get swept away by work. It wasn’t an easy lesson to learn, but I’m glad I figured it out.
As we prepare to fly back to Tunis next week, I’ve been reflecting on the amazing summer we’ve enjoyed. Cramming a year’s worth of appointments and quality time with loved ones into 2 months was exhausting, but it was exactly what I needed. It was a lesson in what’s important in life and what “home” really means.
I thought I’d have a more dramatic feeling coming back to Kansas, but almost immediately, I felt comfortable and life seemed back to normal. Well, normal except that I appreciated it more. We didn’t plan any big trips or fancy outings. We went to a few sporting events. We visited our favorite restaurants. We took a couple weekend trips to nearby AirBNBs. But the thing that sticks out most in my mind are the little moments I used to take for granted.
Nothing is better than hearing my kids laughing together with their friends.
Nothing tops standing around the kitchen island helping make bierocks with my dad and Kay.
You can’t beat drinking a cold beer, sitting outside, and having deep conversations with friends until 1 am.
I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than playing card games and watching the Olympics with my mom and Frank.
This summer Teddy built birdhouses, drove the golf cart around the farm, and won an art contest which resulted in a gift card for an icecream sundae so big he couldn’t even finish it. Penelope played doll house with grandma, decorated sugar cookies, and got a million “makeovers.” Justin and I got unlimited free babysitting and caught up on date nights, even if it was just getting to run errands alone.
This summer I’ve felt content in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. I wasn’t searching for the next adventure. I wasn’t snapping and posting pictures of every moment. I was just present, in the moment, enjoying the company of people I love.
Tunisia feels like home.
Kansas feels like home.
North Carolina feels like home.
Home is not a location. Home is the people who surround you.
Last summer, before we went abroad, I remember a desperate, clingy feeling. No amount of time I had left with my friends was enough. I was worried being apart for 10 months would lessen our connection. This week I don’t feel that way. I am at peace. I will enjoy the moments I have left here knowing that the people I love will still love me when I’m thousands of miles away. I can feel secure to enjoy my year in Tunisia.
We still need to decide if we are signing on for a 3rd year at ACST, a decision we need to make by October. At the moment I’m leaning towards yes, but nothing is set in stone. We’ll see how we feel this August and September and make the best decision for our family. If we decide to stay, next summer will probably be very similar to this one so we’ve had discussions about what we would change if we were to do it again. My thoughts are:
I think it was helpful to have a calendar that we shared with everyone so expectations and logistics were set. We shared time as fairly and evenly as we could. Instead of a paper calendar, next summer, I need to set it up using Google so people can see changes and have access to it when needed.
2. We might consider building in “recovery days.” This summer we literally had something on the calendar Every. Single. Day. The problem with that is, kids (and adults for that matter) can only take so much of a good thing before hitting a breaking point and getting tired and grumpy. There were times I wanted to just relax and have time to read a book or take a nap, but I felt guilty doing that because that was taking away time from someone I had promised it to. I also found myself thinking, “I can’t have another drink and stay up too late because I’ll be too hungover for the activities I have planned tomorrow.” I probably spread myself too thin at times and worried a bit too much about keeping other people happy- something I’ll try to balance better in the future.
Other than that, I can’t complain. I’ve done enough talking, laughing, playing, and eating to last me through the next ten months! I’m excited to be back in Tunis on Wednesday now that I know what to expect. I have friends, parties, holidays, and adventures waiting for me in my second home. There may be unexpected restrictions and complications with Covid again this year, but I have a renewed sense of lightheartedness to carry me through. This summer was a lesson in enjoying the simple things in life, and my goal is to keep living with gratitude even while I’m working or just hanging out at home. Pretty cool how time away can put things into perspective.
It’s Saturday morning. I wake up to birds singing and flowers blooming outside. Out on our balcony, I sip my jasmine tea and get in some journal time. At 9:00 am I meet up with a friend for a leisurely walk down to the beach followed by a Croque Madame and fresh-squeezed orange juice. I come home to an immaculate house even though I haven’t picked up a mop or a broom in ages. Even the laundry baskets are empty, all the clothes neatly folded and put away. Again, not my doing. Our housekeeper comes Monday through Thursday and she cooks too, amazing meals like chicken and vegetables with a creamy turmeric sauce over rice. It’s our favorite! We take the kids to our “fruit guy” and pick up strawberries, oranges, and bananas- only locally grown produce that’s perfectly in season. We stop by our favorite Roman Ruins and Teddy and Penny run and climb. Later, the kids jump on the trampoline, while Justin whips up Lemon Gin Fizz cocktails, picking the lemon off our tree.
I should clarify. I say “our tree, our balcony, our house.” In reality, we don’t own any of this. This giant house, fully furnished and maintained, is paid for by our generous school. Our bank account grows every month because our salary isn’t poured into a mortgage. We don’t pay for water, electricity, health insurance, or rent. We pay for internet and phone service, but those are cheap here. So are the groceries. I can get a baguette for a few cents.
Weekdays are good too. The 4 of us drive to school together (excluding our current distance learning stint). I teach 14 wonderful students and I have hours of plan time to prepare quality lessons. I have a TA as well. She takes attendance, grades papers, teaches small groups, makes copies, does recess duty, and the couple times I’ve had to stay home, she jumps in as the most highly qualified substitute, already knowing the students and all of our routines.
My own children love ACST as well. They get art for over an hour per week. They go to French class daily. They have lots of outdoor time going to recess twice a day in this beautiful weather. (No more checking the weather app to make sure it’s safe enough to go outside in below-freezing temperatures!) They get afterschool activities like swim lessons, soccer, or art. I adore their teachers and I love the curriculum and philosophy here. They write what they want to write. They read what they want to read. No stuffy textbooks or one size fits all curriculum.
If you’ve made it this far without gagging, you’ve made it to “the catch.” Surely life abroad as an international teacher can’t be that good, right? Correct. Nothing I’ve said is a lie, but there are times when I wonder if we are making the right choice. I thought the difficult thing about living in Tunisia would be the language barrier, getting used to the new food, crazy driving, or third-world problems like the fact that we didn’t have running water for 7 hours today (water main break- it happens occasionally). Oh, and did I mention I’ve lived almost a year with no Target, Amazon, or fast food? But those things are very minor inconveniences. The real catch is the “Expat Dilemma.”
I didn’t know there was a name for what I was feeling, but apparently, I’m not alone and lots of expats struggle with the expat dilemma. In a nutshell, here it is: Should I stay or should I go?
One thing I’ve learned this year is that “home” is not a place. “Home” consists of people you love. It’s pretty easy to get used to a new location. In fact, I could live in a new house every year or hop around from country to country every few years, and be perfectly fine. The place is not important. It’s the people. As long as I have Justin, Teddy, and Penelope, it feels like home. Well, it almost feels like home. This home is missing my family and friends who are still back in the States. The hardest part about living abroad is how much I miss them. In a perfect world, I’d just scoop them up and bring them along with me where ever I go. To complicate things, it’s not only a longing to be in the same room as my parents. It’s swirled with a mixture of guilt and self-doubt.
Am I being selfish, taking my kids away from their grandparents?
Is it shallow and materialistic to want to keep this lifestyle and save more money?
When I look back, do I want my memories to be grand adventures to exotic places or low-key camping trips, and dinner with friends, and baking cookies with grandma?
My parents and grandparents are getting older. Should I be home to enjoy those years with them?
My children are getting older. Should they be developing relationships with family before they become reclusive teenagers?
Is it important to have a “home base?”
Do I want my kids growing up around 99.9% white, Christian, Americans? Or is it important for them to have a wider world view?
Is it a disservice to my children that they are getting used to a housekeeper picking up after them? Will they be awful, entitled pricks because we are living such a privileged life now? (Love you Teddy and Penny!)
Will a Kansas Winter literally kill me now that I’ve experienced a mild climate???
I wrote down my definition of happiness and posted it in my bedroom. It’s my compass for making decisions. The problem is, there are aspects of both lives that fit into my definition. Connect with people I love, change is good, live life to the fullest, yadda, yadda, yadda. The Expat Dilemma is such a maddening quandary because I will never have both and there will never be a right or wrong answer.
My friend, Hannah, put it best: “No matter what you choose, you’ll miss the one you didn’t choose.” When I am here in Tunisia, I miss Kansas. Again, not the location, but the people. I haven’t hugged them in 9 months! But I’m sure, when I’m back in the States this summer, I will miss Tunisia; its charm and quirks, the flowers, our housekeeper and her amazing cooking, the pals I’ve made here, the lack of in-your-face consumerism and the laid-back, slower pace of life. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh?
Obviously, I don’t have the answers, despite the endless conversations, pro/con lists, and ongoing self-reflection. I am extremely privileged that right now my kids can have the experience of seeing a different corner of the world- its history, beauty, and diversity while getting summers in America with the people they love. They can see ancient Roman Ruins AND go fishing with grandpa.
I have no regrets about moving here. It is amazing and I’ve learned so much. I now know I never want to work in an American public school again. I also know I don’t want to get wound back up into the American cycle of debt; only working to pay bills. If I ever do move back, I will live intentionally in a different way. I also know I’ll be in Tunisia again next year as we signed a 2-year contract and I’m looking forward to seeing more of Africa, including a Christmas safari to Uganda!
The Expat Dilemma:
Roots vs. Exploration
Old vs. New
Comfort vs. Excitement
It’s a tough one, but I wouldn’t trade it. How awesome is it that I have discovered two lives, both worth missing, both rich with experiences and amazing people? Author, Kate Eckman, said, “Being okay if it happens and okay if it doesn’t is a very powerful place to be.” I have two great choices. I am very lucky. I have 6 weeks left in Tunisia this school year and then 2 months back in America with the people I love most this summer. For now, I’m going to push the guilt to the side and let the dilemma take some time on the back burner so I can live in the present moment. Surely that’s the best litmus test for my future.
A couple weeks ago we took a tour of the Medina. I was thankful to have a knowledgeable tour guide because the old Medina of Tunis is a maze of narrow streets enclosed in ancient walls holding markets, homes, restaurants, and people busy in daily life. So many twists and turns! I have no clue how anyone would find their way around there. There were old ladies sweeping, families buying armfuls of baguettes, and salesmen chatting outside their shops piled high with jewelry, rugs, and antiques. I found myself falling behind the group over and over again, distracted by archways covered in vines, crumbling buildings, murals, and so many cats- just a rush of sights and sounds I wanted to capture. We hurried through clouds of cigarette smoke, “bonjours” and a blur of ornate Tunsian doors.
At the conclusion of our tour we were encouraged to come back on a day when we had nothing planned and enjoy “getting lost.” Normally this idea would make me nervous. Feeling lost stresses me out. I have vivid memories from highschool onwards, calling my dad or Justin in a panic every time I took a wrong turn driving. But hearing others’ stories of slow wandering adventures sounded appealing. I would love to take my time and walk down those stone paths without an agenda or destination, and with my sense of direction or lack thereof, I would most certainly get lost. That place is a labyrinth!
A few days later, I got up early and joined my friend, Rebecca, on a walk around Sidi Bou Said. “Sidi Bou” is less than 10 minutes from my house. I’ve been there countless times and thought I knew it well enough. I know the touristy routes, familiar and well-trodden, but Rebecca lives in that area and has scoped out the best views and trails, often hiking off the beaten path. By the end of our almost 5 mile trek, walking up hills, through little alleyways, into the woods, and along the beach, I realized how much I’ve been missing! It’s been a while since I’ve had that “pinch me- I can’t believe I live here” feeling. This was a wake up call. I actually get to live by the turquoise Mediteranean Sea with ancient ruins and mountains providing a perfect silhouetted background to sailboats floating by in breezy, sunshiny weather. I’m here every day but “sticking to what I know and what feels comfortable” is preventing me from really seeing it. She found these beautiful vistas through curiosity and stepping away from trails she already knew.
It can be frustrating that things are hard to find here. There are no websites, information, or clear signs, but I’m starting to realize that’s part of the beauty. The lack of information leads to stumbling upon treasures and the opportunity to get lost. It also promotes bonding between fellow expats who share their finds. “This place has chocolate chips!” “Have you been to that restaurant?” “I found this cool store today!” After my walk with Rebecca, I decided our family needs to embrace getting off track a little more.
This weekend we traveled about 2 hours south to the coastal town of Sousse. Our family still feels very new to “traveling.” Our past life in Kansas did not consist of vacations or time to explore new areas. In this new found life, we have a lot to learn about what to do and what not to do when it comes to traveling as a family.
Fortunately, we tagged along on this vacation with friends and picked up a few tips. One of which was to take a 30 minute drive to a little town called Monastir. I wouldn’t have known to do this, but I’m so glad we did.
Touring Fortress Ribat in Monastir was the highlight of our weekend. Fort Ribat is a huge Military fortress, overlooking the Mediteranian Sea, built in 796. (And it also happens to be the set location for Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Now I need to go back and rewatch that movie.) Unlike other ruins we’ve seen, this one was almost fully intact and we could walk through 3 levels of rooms and passageways. Teddy and I climbed to the top of the tallest tower and got a thrill looking out over the city in all directions.
The best part was the size and unique layout. It was the perfect place for us to get that “lost” feeling. There were alcoves and hidden dark stairways into rooms connected to more rooms and corridors, all interconnected, leading to new areas or deadends- an easy place to get turned around. Penelope is still pretty cautious and sticks close to us, but Teddy gets this adventurous spirit and turns into an explorer, rushing ahead to find the best areas to show us. I’m glad he’s learning from a young age that feeling lost can be fun.
Other highlights from our trip to Sousse were:
Giant bird’s nests along power lines on the trip down, like I’m pretty sure they were some pterodactyl relatives…
Driving by olive orchards, mountainous views and roadside stands selling strawberries, flat bread, and fried lizards. (In case you’re wondering, we were not brave enough to pull over for a lizard snack.)
Amazing freshly squeezed orange juice in the mornings and seeing the proud look on Teddy’s face after he ordered an omelet by himself in French!
Room service playdate picnics and conversations with friends.
Seeing a flock of flamingos for the first time in nature! (Spoiler- they are white here because of the lack of shrimp in their diet, but still cool to check that one off my Tunisia bucket list.)
Falling asleep to the sound of waves and waking up to paradise views
Tunisia (and the pandemic) has given me the gift of letting go of control and accepting what’s in front of me. Perfect example: trying to order a margarita this weekend. The waiter repeated the order, confirming that I wanted one margarita pizza. After some charades-style hand gestures and some help from friends, he got the message that I wanted alcohol, not pizza. I received a drink close enough to a margarita. After finishing, I decided that a pizza actually sounded perfect. Our waiter returned, and I told him I now wanted the before-mentioned pizza. He looked a bit puzzled and then explained that they don’t have pizza on the menu. Moral of the story: If you want a margarita, order a pizza. If you want a pizza, cross your fingers that you’ve asked at the right moment because rules/menus/ standards are pretty fluid around here. Another friend tried to order a burger and they told him no. Justin asked for a burger and got a yes. Always be ready with a backup option and a sense of humor.
It seems there’s a fine line between well-planned travel experiences and spontaneity, but living in Tunisia has helped nudge us in the go-with-the-flow spirit. I have a little more room for uncertainty and a willingness to get lost now. Getting lost in a physical place = getting lost in the moment, and with the right attitude, that’s a beautiful thing. We are still working on how this works best with children. Getting “lost” in the Medina or on a nature hike with children who are hungry and have tired legs isn’t quite what I have in mind, but I’m hoping the more practice we get, the more likely we are to find the right balance of flexibility and feeling “lost” for our family.
Before we had kids, Justin and I would go to brunch every Sunday; early before the church crowd rolled in. Brunch was our religion. After we had kids, it became less frequent, but it was still our go-to outing when we needed to get out of the house. There’s just something comforting about sipping a cappuccino and chatting over a plate full of french toast and bacon.
We’ve been in Tunis a little under a year and I am pleased to see that their brunch game is on point. Of course, we’ve only scratched the surface. I’m sure the following list will leave out some great undiscovered restaurants, but I thought it would be nice to compile a little list of a few favorites we’ve tried thus far.
A Mi Chemins
This place gets the number one spot for a few reasons. It’s a trendy little spot in La Marsa, located on the 3rd floor on the side of the Zephyr Mall. From the top of the building, you can eat your breakfast overlooking the Mediteranian Sea. If you sit inside, the vibe is very cool and spacious- lots of retro decor, eclectic furniture, lighting, and plants. The service is great. They have fresh juices and smoothies. Although, as with all places in Tunisia, be prepared with some backup options if they don’t have the ingredients for your top choice. I’ve ordered the smoothie bowl which was refreshing and healthy, but my favorite thing I’ve ordered was a platter of fried chicken strips, warm waffles coated in ricotta cheese and topped with the fluffiest scrambled eggs, perfectly seasoned with red pepper flakes. For a while, this spot seemed like a best kept secret and we usually only shared the space with a few other customers. I think the secrets out now though, so depending on the day and time, you might have to prepare yourself for a bit of a wait.
Cook’s is a well-loved Sidi Bou Said brunch spot. It has a local coffee shop-feel, filled with sofas and shelves of books. It’s not big, a bit grungy, and the service and menu are casual and unfussy. If you want a great value, this is the place to go. Sometimes you pay a premium for eating in Sidi Bou Said, but this spot is cheap and easy. My favorites are the eggs benedict with real bacon or the Croque Madame. My daughter ordered a waffle the other day that looked amazing and came with real maple syrup. Pork bacon and maple syrup aren’t always easy to find, so Cook’s gets bonus points for having these comfort staples. I should warn that the atmosphere is usually filled with cigarette smoke and being a small space, it’s hard to get away from. This is pretty common in Tunisian restaurants, but here I find it’s especially noticeable.
Here’s another Sidi Bou Said spot that’s a new discovery as of this morning! (They have a few other locations around town as well.) It quickly rose up my list for its pristine, spotless environment and fabulous menu selection. Plus, it has a separate, completely enclosed smoking section! This is the first place I’ve seen where they have a seperation. It was so nice enjoying breakfast without the smoke! When you walk in you are greeted with case after case of fancy pastries and tarts lining the walls behind glass. Their menu had many pages of entrees and drinks. It was hard to choose. I ordered a juice with orange, carrot, and ginger, a smoothie bowl with greek yogurt, granola, and fruit, and the croque madame. The food was solid and service was great.
Palazzo Caffee Restaurant
The Palazzo is right next to the Tunisia Mall in Lac II. It’s our go-to brunch spot on mall shopping days. Palazzo and Zara- not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning. This place looks very upscale, but the fancy velvet chairs and white curtains are now a bit faded from years of cigarette smoke. You don’t get a great view here but it’s never crowded and the food and service is consistent. They have breakfast combinations that give plenty of variety and value. I always get the Parisian. As with all their meals, it automatically comes with water, juice, and a cappuccino. The meals are beautifully presented on tiered platters with baked goods, omelets, and charcuterie samplings. I’ve never been able to finish the whole breakfast. The kids get the breakfast duo, meant to be shared and again there’s more than enough. My breakfast with all of the drinks was 22 dinar (about $8 USD) and the kids’ choice was 33 dinar (about $6 per kid). It feels like eating at a 5-star restaurant for fast food prices.
I’m adding Punic’Art mainly for the view and fun menu options, but it would not be a top choice for breakfast. It’s located near Salambo beach and park. If you go on a nice day you can eat right on the water’s edge and feel the salt air. The inside seating feels a bit more like a beach shack and this place can get crowded, so plan accordingly. I’d go here if you want dessert and a Mediterranean Sea location. I ordered the Oreo milkshake and it was amazing! They have lots of sweet options, some a bit over-the-top-decedent, topped with thick whipped cream, candy and cookies. Take it easy so you don’t leave with a stomach ache.
Other: I’ve also been to Ivy and Sabato which are highly recommended but tiny. You have to hit these places as they open or you may be out of luck. They both have smaller menus with quality, local ingredients and a cute atmosphere.
Instinctively, I gasped, partly as an exaggerated joke and partly because I was a little worried on the off-chance that tarot cards are legit. Is it silly or is the universe trying to tell me something? And IF there is some mystical force guiding my hand, a bleak skeleton figure wielding a sickle, corpses littering the background and the word “DEATH.”written on the card I picked isn’t particularly comforting. As if the ominous font in black capital letters wasn’t enough, that period stamped on the end just seemed a bit overkill. Pun intended.
Justin was acting as fortune teller, and although he is a master of bullshitting, that’s about the extent of his expertise in this matter and we refer to our little Tarot Card Meanings Booklet to interpret the cards.
Turns out the DEATH. card, although menacing and grim in appearance, actually has a beautiful message. The explanation reads:
Death in this instance should not be literally taken as the end of life. It signifies the end of a cycle and beginning of a new one. It indicates transformation of the individual to a new state of being.
I think back to the many lives I’ve lived. Yes, there is more than one. Everybody has a handful of experiences that put a mark on their timeline and from that point on, life can be measured as before and after, similar to the way we talk about pre and post 9-11 or how we now reference pre-Covid times.
One of my big life-defining events was having children. I vaguely remember the girl I was before I was a mother. I now think back fondly on her freedom and roll my eyes at her worries, which now seem small and insignificant. That girl “died” on December 29, 2011 when Teddy was born. It sounds depressing to phrase it that way, but it’s true. I never went back to being that girl. She’s gone, but in her place is now a more complex, loving, tired, nurturing woman- a little older and wiser, battle-scarred from the sleepless nights, hopefully a bit less selfish.
The DEATH. card got me thinking about life changes and how to take a bit of control over that timeline. It reminded me of the desperate times I fought and pleaded with myself to hang on to a life that was no longer serving me. It got me thinking about the importance of knowing when to quit.
I taught at the same school for 10 years. Growing up, I lived in the same house for 18 years. I went to Queen of the Holy Rosary Catholic School from Kindergarten through 8th Grade with the same group of kids. I took dance classes at the same dance studio from Kindergarten through High School. I have had 1 boyfriend, married him and we’ll celebrate our 13 year anniversary in August. I have lived a very consistent life. I have never quit anything (unless you count quitting Girl Scouts in 1st Grade. That was not my jam). But now, I’m a quitter and it feels great!
Three fourths of the way through a graduate program for Elementary Art, I quit. It was the first domino to fall in my new quitter mentality. Quitting on a commitment was completely out of character for me. In fact, it never even crossed my mind as an option. I was under a lot of stress and I was no longer enjoying my classes, but I kept barreling through because that’s what you are supposed to do. Quitting was irresponsible, but when someone suggested the possibility of stopping or taking a break, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head.
Sending that email to drop out felt so good. I felt lighter; happier all of a sudden. I read an analogy once about a person looking out from behind prison bars, feeling trapped, but behind him, there is a wide open door. I gave myself the illusion of being trapped by commitments and responsibilities, but in reality, it was always possible to walk away. My mind was the only thing holding me back. I have imprisoned myself in society’s standards, fear of what others will think, or simply continuing a current path, even when it stopped being enjoyable. Now, I look back and think of all the times I forced myself to suffer through or waste my time on activities I didn’t really care about. What was the point?
Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Stopping to evaluate my life, my goals and my priorities, has significantly increased my happiness. My life is not perfect, but it’s a lot better than my past life as a stressed-out, overachieving, under-sexed, super-mom, Pinterest teacher. It was a slow and painful death to get rid of that life, but thank goodness she finally passed on because that version of me was a real drag!
If you’ve never done this, I would encourage you to take 5 minutes for this little exercise, inspired by author Max Strome, and shared with me by a buddy here in Tunisia. Get out a pen and paper and time yourself for 5 minutes. In that time, write down your definition of happiness. (If you want to give it a try, do it now, and don’t scroll on because I don’t want my definition to influence your original thoughts and ideas.)
Here is my definition:
On a piece of paper, this handwritten note is hanging on my bedroom mirror. I see it and read it every day while I’m doing my hair and getting ready for work. It is my litmus test for my right path. I try to base my decisions on this, especially big decisions.
Recently, I was considering a career move into counseling. It’s been an interest of mine for some time and I think I would enjoy it. I began looking into Master’s programs and along with my school research, I talked to counselors to learn more about the job. As with any career, there were pros and cons and I had a hard time deciding if I should make the move. In the end, my definition of happiness helped me make up my mind. I want to have a work-life balance and enjoy what I have around me. I want to travel and spend time with my family. Working nights and weekends as a counselor and not to mention the years of studying just didn’t fit with my priorities. I decided to quit before I even started.
This past year has brought a lot of change, and a lot of it is thanks to being a quitter. I quit trying to please everyone. I quit a Master’s Program. I quit my job. I quit being a perfectionist.
I was always under the impression that quitting was lazy, but what I didn’t realize was that when you let go, you make room for something better. It can be scary to make a big change, but when I went on my quitting spree, I found freedom and a better version of myself. I took pole dancing classes. I started this blog and rediscovered my love of writing. I began meditating daily and went on an amazing wellness retreat. I met new people who have had a huge influence on my life. My friendships grew deeper. My marriage has gotten stronger. I moved to Tunisia and started a new job. I would have never made time for these things if I hadn’t forced some dead weight out of my life.
It would have been easy to continue trudging along, but quitting led me to something better. Don’t be afraid of the DEATH. card. Every end is a new beginning.
I love Valentine’s Day! I can remember my mom decorating the house with pink and red streamers and balloons. There were cards and little gifts on the table when we woke up. One year she even pulled me out of school early to make cupcakes and celebrate. Justin has also spoiled me. One year he surprised me with a newly painted bedroom and new bedding when I came home from work. I love writing letters and coming up with surprises for my own kids. I love helping them make valentines for their friends and I exclusively wear pink and red outfits for the whole week. It’s kind of a big deal.
Here are a few of my favorite ideas to celebrate with the people you love, big and small.
Fancy breakfast or brunch. This works especially well if it falls on a weekend, but I have been known to change the date of Valentine’s Day and celebrate on a weekend instead of the actual day just to make it happen. Pictured here are mini pancakes with Nutella, whipped cream and strawberries, with sausage.
2. I love a good scavenger hunt. One year I hid the kids Valentine gift and hid clues around the house to have them find it. Anything to prolong the fun is great, almost better than the gift itself.
3. Speaking of gifts, I usually go with a picture book or stuffed animal, but I’m also a big fan of new pajamas, robes or slippers.
4. This year, I’m simplifying the scavenger hunt idea and taping hearts all around the house for the kids to find. Pink hearts for Penny and red hearts for Teddy- equal amounts of each. If you have more than one child, you know why this is imperative. They will collect their hearts that either have little notes or “coupons” on them, and when they finish, they have to put their hearts together to spell out a message because on the back of each heart is a letter. Spoiler alert: The message is “Happy Valentines Day.” Creative, I know. When your kids are young, you gotta keep it simple.
5. Coupons- I’m a big fan of this idea and have reused it for many years. It’s free and it emphasizes spending time with each other rather than material possessions. Usually coupons for the kids are things like staying up later, dessert, free hugs. Anything works. They love “spending” them, and it makes the coming weeks fun because we have little positive activities sprinkled in each day. (Coupons also work for spouses. I won’t share those ones because they can get a little X-rated… )
6. Because I love writing, I also usually sneak in a way to write love notes to the family. One year, I made them mailboxes and they each had to check their mailbox every day leading up to Valentine’s Day to get their love note. I’ve also written notes on their bathroom mirror with a dry erase marker or posted notes on their bedroom door. Hiding notes in a lunch box is fun too, especially if you slip in a piece of candy with it.
7. Valentine’s Day is for friends too. Last year, I threw a Valentine’s party and made personalized conversation heart decorations. We listened to music and ate and played games. Eventually the decorations turned into a game. Who can throw one of those gross conversation hearts into someone’s drink. That I don’t recommend because a conversation heart gin and tonic is pretty awful tasting. I mean, I still drank it, but it wasn’t good.
8. This year, my friends are doing a long distance countdown to V-day. Each day, we message each other on WhatsApp according to the day’s theme. February 2nd, we sent our favorite love songs. On the third, we shared quotes. Today we are doling out marriage advice. That should be entertaining.
I hope some of these ideas got you excited about celebrating Valentine’s. It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money or take a lot of time, but a small gesture can mean a lot. This weekend I’ll be shopping for gifts. Justin and I have a signature cocktail in the works and I’m guessing we will order takeout and have a pretty chill day. Happy Valentine’s Day!