Aspies aren't known to be nomad types, so I always get excited when I encounter someone who might also be one.
I've given up the life of a world traveler because now that I'm back in the states, I have cats. My father thinks I'm being ridiculous. He thinks I should just drop them off at the shelter ... but he's not a cat person and he doesn't know that all of my cats have very distinct personalities. I think of them as little people in their own right ... free citizens in the Republic of Dave, the borders of which coincide with the square footage (including the fenced back yard) of my current home in Nevada.
As far as being an Aspie Nomad ... I grew up as a military service brat. My father was a doctor in the U.S. Armed Forces and I spent most of my childhood in Ghana, Thailand, and El Salvador. Since I knew there were American schools overseas (having spent most of my childhood in private American schools and not DoDD schools i.e. U.S. military base schools), I knew what to look for and that's how I found the ISS which led to my first overseas job.
I was in Saudi Arabia from '91 through '98 and I then went to another ISS job fair.
I was hoping for Europe but EVERYONE hopes for Europe. It's a tough market to get into. Having already worked in Saudi Arabia for 7 years, I was typecast as someone who liked working in the Middle East ... so my possibilities were limited to Alexandria in Egypt, Istanbul, and Beirut.
Beirut had just ended a 17 year long three way civil war between the Muslims, Christians, and Druze and ACS Beirut (American Community School) was looking to hire some Americans to put some American curriculum back in the school which had apparently continued to operate throughout the length of the civil war albeit with a largely Lebanese faculty.
I wound up working for ACS Beirut but left after one year. The last day of the 1998-1999 school year ended with an Israeli air attack. Israeli bombers flew in low over the Mediterranean Sea. The force of their passage shook the faculty apartment I was in. Having lived in Saudi Arabia during the First Gulf War, I knew better than to stare out the windows (which could have exploded into shrapnel), so I rolled out of bed, grabbed my evacuation kit, and ducked under a heavy desk in the corner of my living room.
In the distance I could hear explosions. I could hear the wail of civil defense sirens. From my position beneath the desk, I could look over the window sill and see tracer fire from Syrian anti-aircraft gun crews rising into the night sky.
It was a long night.
Every time I thought that it might be safe to come out, another wave of bombers would streak overhead and the entire building would shake from the speed of their passage.
In the morning, I found that the airport had been closed ... but as soon as it reopened, I was on a flight back to the states ... and I haven't left the country since.
I would love to hear more about your experience in Saudi Arabia - although it's not a place I can go to, for reasons other than the regional instability which affects everyone.
It's really hard to get around Saudi Arabia without a car ... so I bought a Jeep Cherokee. After all, I worked for Aramco which produced all of the oil that was sold in export. Since we produced the oil, we also had refineries for in-country use ... so gasoline prices at the time were the equivalent of 7 cents per gallon.
One of the things I liked to do was to host new teachers and show them around the area. I'd take them to our company's commissary (supermarket) which was by the post office and within walking distance of a bank. I'd also take them into the neighboring Saudi city of Al-Khobar
pronounced Al-Ho-bar ... though most Americans insisted upon mispronouncing it ... calling it Coal-bar ... culturally ignorant ninnies that they were. In addition to treating them to dinner at my favorite Thai restaurant, taking them to the local mall, and introducing them to the gold suq where the street was lined with jewelry stores.
Driving into town was always interesting. Although the Saudis understood the concept of traffic lights i.e. red means stop and green means go ... they didn't really grasp the concept of a 4 way stop.
I learned during my first trip into town with another expat, that there was an unwritten traffic rule ... whoever has the bigger vehicle and more momentum has the right of way. The teacher I was with on that first trip drove a Bronco. He only yielded to buses and trucks.
Since I drove a Jeep Cherokee, I only yielded to Broncos, buses, and trucks.
So ... coming to a 4 way stop, I'd slow down to gauge the opposition and if there were no vehicles larger than mine, I'd accelerate, blaring my horn and driving hell for leather for the intersection while lesser vehicles braked or pulled aside.
The greenhorns, fresh from the states would always scream at me to stop ... but no experienced driver ever stopped because if you stopped you had no momentum and you'd have the devil of a time making it through the intersection.
I lived in Saudi Arabia for 7 years ... 6 in Dhahran and 1 in Ras Tanura and I never had a single accident.
Here's a picture of me "back in the day." My students and I were dressed in Arabic fashion because it was Arab Culture Week and we had spent the week learning about the Arab culture in Social Studies. This cultural mini-unit always ended with a catered Arabic lunch that we'd enjoy sitting inside a Bedouin tent.
