Sweet dreams are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. I have day dreams, which gives me great pleasure if they turn out as I want them to be.
There was a time I dreamed about living in a country other than my own. The political situation,the constant worry of living in a place with fear, was diminishing my patriotic spirit to a point where I was having nightmares, I was looking for an opportunity to get out and live somewhere I could live in peace.
The opportunity although some might call weird I grabbed it. Now what was grand about it, I married a man who lived in North America, who had a decent job. That meant I won’t starve, there won’t be general strikes, procession by students, or someone robbing us.
It was a beautiful city, I met a lady soon after I came. She and I became good friends,each morning we went for long walks to get fresh air and also much needed exercise.
I watched the first snowstorm which paralyzed the city. It was not as bad as frequent strikes and turmoil in my native land.
People were friendly, my husband’s boss was a delightful gentleman. When he heard I intended to learn driving he very gently told me not to practice on his street.
There were a lot of new places to see and enjoy. I relished living in a country other than my own.
A year later we moved to a different province,my husband got a job in a small town of ten thousand people. I was lucky I was hired to teach in a local elementary school.
It was not all rosy, a colleague of mine was jealous when she found out my salary was higher than hers. She was never nice to me. I carried out my duties the best way I knew. The kids were excited to have me as a teacher. I had long hair, I wore a sari to school, I was different. The other children had Mrs Hill, Mrs. Fogarty, Mrs. Bluebell and so on.
I was Mrs. Nasheman, they had a bit of trouble pronouncing it , the unique name made them happy. If you ever teach kids you’ll find out how unique they themselves are.
My dream is fulfilled I am so happy!