Photos here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2066991&l=0de0a&id=4807606
Well, it has been a little while since I have written anything, and I guess the main reason for that is my time has been significantly less eventful since returning from our spring break in the UAE and Qatar. We are now in our Independent Study Project (ISP) portion of the time here. That means we no longer have classes, need to go into the school (ever? well, sort of) and basically have all day every day to conduct our research. My project is on how Oman’s education system has adapted to globalization- and involves interviewing teachers, students and people who work at the ministry of Education- plus other things required of research. I actually have never done a project like this, and its kind of like a mini thesis or something that someone with more experience would turn into a whole book that no-one buys and sits in various academic libraries.
Hmm, however there have been some highlights…
Did you know that the Olympic torch came to Muscat- its only stop in the Middle East? Well it did, and Oman was pretty pumped about it. They had a whole procession, just like everywhere else- but I imagine that here the security was tighter than in other places. Where I was there was about 1 soldier for every 2 people. Demonstrations are not allowed here, plus the population basically is happy and doesn’t care too much about Tibet I imagine. Still though, the government changed the route of the torch, leaving me and a bunch of other Omanis sitting and waiting. Still though, it was nice to see people so happy.
There are several private beaches in the Muscat area- and one of them that we went to offers snorkeling too! They take you out on a boat (ours had Germans, English, and I think possibly Austrians, along with us Americans of course) and have a couple nice places that you can choose from. The beach itself was great- it was pretty much the only spot in Muscat where we felt like we weren’t under moral scrutiny. I mean that of course in the nicest way, and I noticed the feeling more once it was absent; and of course I am not saying that we were suddenly inappropriate, not at all- but just that it was more comfortable. Anyway, I would like to go back- they have dolphin watching trips too!
I traveled back to Nizwa and stayed with the same guys I was with before, I nominally went in order to interview teachers in training at the college, along with students just out of high school, and I actually got quite a lot done! We all went together to the Nizwa fort, which definitely had the largest and seemingly the most sophisticated battlements and fortifications. Nizwa is the former home of the Imamate, the religious leader of Oman. A cool part was that day I was dressed in a dishdasha, and traveling with two Omanis- we just seemed like a shebab (group of guys) as I blended right in. (See pictures for the full effect) Later in the day we went to the Al-Hoota cave, which is a huge cave complex that the tour only sees about 10% because you need scuba gear to get to the rest! They unfortunately did not allow cameras inside, I think they said because it may damage the formations (but there were lights everywhere) and more so because then they can sell the beautiful photos in the gift shop. One cool thing is that Omanis discovered this cave when a shepherd’s goat fell in!
Just last weekend I and my two brothers went with their uncle (who interestingly has 3 wives!) to wahiba sands for a night of camping, and dune riding. Several of their cousins were there too, who were very proud of their 4x4’s and ability to drive them quickly through the desert! Oh, and now a highlight- the next day we all went to Wadi Beni Halid. I was expecting an overused spot that wasn’t that nice cause I had heard that much of Muscat clears out to picnic there on weekends- but the reality was that the place was huge and easily accommodated everyone there. Plus I then hiked up into the mountains and had beautiful views all around, got to do some rock climbing, and swam in a surreal pool with some Omanis.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
UAE Pictures
Here is the link to pictures from my latest trip:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2065498&l=5c157&id=4807606
Enjoy!
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2065498&l=5c157&id=4807606
Enjoy!
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Doha
I am a little more than halfway through our version of Spring Break, spent in Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Doha. (I did not notice the prevalence of “D” names till now!) Hmm, we began with Abu Dhabi, where we attended a conference the national research center was putting on- a venue for academics to present their papers on Education, political reform, religion, the economy- and how they all are establishing the Gulf’s position between Conservatism and Change. (If you’re interested in the conference itself, please let me know and we’ll discuss.) We had the evenings free, and the highlight was going to the Seven Star Emirates Palace Hotel. The scale of this place was amazing. It literally could be a palace. We walked around inside for a little while, and then blended in with some guests and headed out to the back of the hotel. There they had the hotel’s private beach, swimming pools, fountains, and acres and acres of landscaped walking paths along the ocean. I think we walked for two hours, just exploring and playing. It was pretty dark at one point, and we stumbled upon some camels! Evidently the hotel has a “Bedouin experience” set up, with camel rides, coffee, handcrafts for sale- the works. We got as close as we would dare to the camels, rested on the floor couches, and enjoyed the evening “Bedouin style” for a brief couple minutes. What we only realized on our way back was that there were also two guys there, sleeping and I guess watching over all the stuff!
After 3 days of the conference, we took the short bus ride to Dubai, and had 2 days on our own to see the city. The first night we toured around the Creek, a sort of river that travels through the city. Its only sort of a river because it flows from the ocean and is salt water. I had a wonderful night on a dinner cruise that traveled from the ocean to the end of it. Plus, we had the best seat on the boat- the top deck, right up front- seeing everything and sometimes forgetting the boat was even there! So, the rumors are true, shopping is in charge in Dubai- and their malls prove it. There are two main ones, and innumerable smaller ones. The Ibn Batuta mall is adorned with architecture from all the places that Ibn Batuta (the best of the Arabian explorers) visited: China, India, Egypt, Persia, Tunisia, and Andalusia. I have to say that I didn’t really check out many of the stores, shopping not being my thing- but they had museum-like exhibits to look at, including a pretty cool hands on Astronomy section.
Are you ready for the highlight? Ready, ready? So guess what- I went skiing, in Dubai! They built an indoor ski slope at the Mall of the Emirates, one that maintains their -3 degree temperature even when its 150 degrees outside in summer! It was fantastic, they did a great job making it feel like a real mountain, halfway up the ski lift makes a 60 or so degree left turn (right where the “lodge” is, complete with bathrooms, and a place to sit inside or outside and enjoy hot chocolate, snacks, etc right there on the mountain!) and after the left turn you only see the ski lift above you, the run (with a width similar to runs on actual ski mountains) and people skiing below you. It is split up into several mini-runs with different difficulty levels; green near the bottom, blue farther up, and a “black” to the right side of the lodge that while short, had a very thin layer of snow over a steep surface. The snow itself was great, all manmade of course, but the feel was right. (A little dry to keep the runs fast, the type of snow that doesn’t make quality snowballs unfortunately!) One of the highlights was seeing people from the Middle East enjoy snow for the first time. There were women there in the winter outfits they give you and their head scarves, men wearing turbans- both of which helped to keep them warm- and everyone was having a great time. There were even people, both tourists and presumably people from Dubai, who had brought not only their own skiing outfits but their own skis or snowboard as well! Perhaps some of these people have a season pass! They even have a snowboarding night once a week where they open up all the jumps and the quarter pipe so the younger hipper crowd can go wild. As for ski lifts, there were three options- in the middle was a normal ski lift that either dropped you off halfway or all the way at the top- normal except for the fact it was attached to the roof instead of having the poles down to the ground, imagine that! For the beginners area, they had a moving walkway like thing that you just slid yourself onto, and it would ferry you up the beginners part of the hill. Thirdly, there was a system normally used for long flat traverses- the one where there is a long stick attached to the moving line which you put between your legs and sit on the round part at the end. It certainly was a more challenging way to get to the top, the turn in the middle was the hardest part. They also had a snow play area at the bottom for those who really couldn’t bring themselves to try skiing for the first time- where they had ice slides, open areas for snow angels, snowball fights, and general fun. We got two hours to enjoy ourselves, and it flew by, if you are ever in Dubai- this place is unbelievable.
I am in the airport now, about to leave Doha. We only had a quick trip here, 2 days which was just enough time to see Education City (where Carnegie Mellon has a campus!) and Al Jazeera network (and pretty much everything else there was to see in Doha, they are in the process of constructing a myriad of museums and other things for visitors, but as of now its…simple.) Plus, of the 5 colleges at Education City, our group happened to take our tour with CMU, and I got to see Jarrod Mock, a friend of mine who I have known for 5 years, we haven’t seen each other since graduation, and what do you know, we met up in Qatar! Doha actually has the nicest Souk (more or less a traditional market) that I have seen here in the gulf, and I have been to 7 in as many distinct regions now.
Now that my tour of some Gulf countries is complete, I can honestly say that while I think Dubai is pretty cool, I still prefer Oman because of the friendly people, the dramatic scenery, and the unabashed and genuine hold on tradition there.
After 3 days of the conference, we took the short bus ride to Dubai, and had 2 days on our own to see the city. The first night we toured around the Creek, a sort of river that travels through the city. Its only sort of a river because it flows from the ocean and is salt water. I had a wonderful night on a dinner cruise that traveled from the ocean to the end of it. Plus, we had the best seat on the boat- the top deck, right up front- seeing everything and sometimes forgetting the boat was even there! So, the rumors are true, shopping is in charge in Dubai- and their malls prove it. There are two main ones, and innumerable smaller ones. The Ibn Batuta mall is adorned with architecture from all the places that Ibn Batuta (the best of the Arabian explorers) visited: China, India, Egypt, Persia, Tunisia, and Andalusia. I have to say that I didn’t really check out many of the stores, shopping not being my thing- but they had museum-like exhibits to look at, including a pretty cool hands on Astronomy section.
Are you ready for the highlight? Ready, ready? So guess what- I went skiing, in Dubai! They built an indoor ski slope at the Mall of the Emirates, one that maintains their -3 degree temperature even when its 150 degrees outside in summer! It was fantastic, they did a great job making it feel like a real mountain, halfway up the ski lift makes a 60 or so degree left turn (right where the “lodge” is, complete with bathrooms, and a place to sit inside or outside and enjoy hot chocolate, snacks, etc right there on the mountain!) and after the left turn you only see the ski lift above you, the run (with a width similar to runs on actual ski mountains) and people skiing below you. It is split up into several mini-runs with different difficulty levels; green near the bottom, blue farther up, and a “black” to the right side of the lodge that while short, had a very thin layer of snow over a steep surface. The snow itself was great, all manmade of course, but the feel was right. (A little dry to keep the runs fast, the type of snow that doesn’t make quality snowballs unfortunately!) One of the highlights was seeing people from the Middle East enjoy snow for the first time. There were women there in the winter outfits they give you and their head scarves, men wearing turbans- both of which helped to keep them warm- and everyone was having a great time. There were even people, both tourists and presumably people from Dubai, who had brought not only their own skiing outfits but their own skis or snowboard as well! Perhaps some of these people have a season pass! They even have a snowboarding night once a week where they open up all the jumps and the quarter pipe so the younger hipper crowd can go wild. As for ski lifts, there were three options- in the middle was a normal ski lift that either dropped you off halfway or all the way at the top- normal except for the fact it was attached to the roof instead of having the poles down to the ground, imagine that! For the beginners area, they had a moving walkway like thing that you just slid yourself onto, and it would ferry you up the beginners part of the hill. Thirdly, there was a system normally used for long flat traverses- the one where there is a long stick attached to the moving line which you put between your legs and sit on the round part at the end. It certainly was a more challenging way to get to the top, the turn in the middle was the hardest part. They also had a snow play area at the bottom for those who really couldn’t bring themselves to try skiing for the first time- where they had ice slides, open areas for snow angels, snowball fights, and general fun. We got two hours to enjoy ourselves, and it flew by, if you are ever in Dubai- this place is unbelievable.
I am in the airport now, about to leave Doha. We only had a quick trip here, 2 days which was just enough time to see Education City (where Carnegie Mellon has a campus!) and Al Jazeera network (and pretty much everything else there was to see in Doha, they are in the process of constructing a myriad of museums and other things for visitors, but as of now its…simple.) Plus, of the 5 colleges at Education City, our group happened to take our tour with CMU, and I got to see Jarrod Mock, a friend of mine who I have known for 5 years, we haven’t seen each other since graduation, and what do you know, we met up in Qatar! Doha actually has the nicest Souk (more or less a traditional market) that I have seen here in the gulf, and I have been to 7 in as many distinct regions now.
Now that my tour of some Gulf countries is complete, I can honestly say that while I think Dubai is pretty cool, I still prefer Oman because of the friendly people, the dramatic scenery, and the unabashed and genuine hold on tradition there.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Goat
We are now back in Muscat, and after 8 days in Nizwa I think I am ready to be back. Not that I didn’t enjoy myself, but I am just ready for the comforts of Muscat once more. Hmm, yesterday we went to our Arabic teacher’s (Sultan) family farm for the evening- they had slaughtered a goat for us earlier in the day and we had it and Omani bread for dinner. The food was good, but the highlight was when Sultan opened the scull using the jawbone and then several of us ate pieces of the brain. It actally didn’t taste bad, but the texture was almost to an overwhelming degree.Being on the farm was really nice though- they had cown, goats, and a pregnant camel! It made a little more sense to me maintaining all this livestock when we found out that at Sultan’s wedding they invited the whole village and for the feast, slaughtered 20 goats, 4 cows and two camels, just imagine! The stars and the company was the highlight of the night though; constellations, airplanes, satellites and 3 shooting stars are a combination that always add up to a great evening.
Long Day
I am exhausted after the longest and most physical day yet here in Oman. First off, we woke up at 7 after staying up till 1am at an American English teacher’s house watching Die Hard and eating ice cream and popcorn for dinner. No subtitles, no Arabic- it was the perfect cultural reliever. Then we had a huge tasty breakfast (I consider eating a large, tasty meal exercise) of Indian bread, cooked mixed vegetables, a salad, and a rolex. (I’m calling it that because I made the same thing they have in Uganda- an egg omelet wrapped in chapatti bread with plenty of ketchup.) WE then got a ride with Wendy, that same English teacher, to the base of one of the many mountains in the area. The plan was to hike for 6 hours- Doug, Saleh, Da’oud, and I- and then catch a ride back to our flat from the highway we would reach at the end of the hike. However it became clear after 1.5 hours of hiking, scrambling, and bouldering that we had taken the wrong wadi! Another clue was that at one point I had gone ahead to look for the trail and literally had to use all my rock climbing skills (dutifully learned during my Chadwick years) to negotiate this one massive rockface! The size and quantity of these boulders was mind boggling.
So we had our picnic lunch and walked back to where we started- where after washing off in the aflaj, we were picked up by Saleh’s friends from Izki. After experiencing the full extent of Omani coffee hospitality in their home- more on this later- we drove to a local petting zoo where the story goes that they have the one monkey in Oman. Unfortunately it was closed, but the upside is that we then walked around and I learned about Date palm trees, and we visited, actually the same wadi from hiking, just farther down. There we saw some surprisingly bright red and green rock, along with a cave. Next we drove to where the daily football game is played. It didn’t take too many invites to convince us to play, so Da’oud and I joined one team, and Doug and Saleh the other. It was this game that really tired me out. I think we played uninterrupted for an hour, on a dusty dirt regulation size field. It was really a highlight of my day- they were happy to play with us, and some were really pretty good. (Oh, my team lost 4-3) Afterwards, the 4 of us, and Saleh’s two friends walked over to their uncle’s farm to the well. There they set up the aflaj; started one of the three water pumps, and walah! Water! I should have taken a picture, but I’ll try my best here: 1) really deep well (possibly 500 ft.) 2) long pipe with water pump connected to a generator by a 10ft belt 3) Water flows to into a head-high square pool with a drain that flows into the flaj. Oh, and the water from the flaj sends water to the date palm trees. To wash we jumped up on the edge of the wall, and put our heads under the pipe feeding the cistern. The water was warm like the earth is! Then it was prayer time, so the 4 of them got out their prayer mats and prayed right there in the field- it was beautiful.
Now, our final adventure. The same two friends, after already picking us up, taking all of us around the whole afternoon, waiting and happily watching us play football, starting up their uncle’s well (and later that night taking us back home), had invited us to dinner earlier in the day. The custom (I see it as similar to our attempts at modesty by deflecting compliments) is to not accept invitations right away and allow the host to insist! Anyway, we entered the house compound (all houses have walls around them here) and were shown into the men’s sitting room, or majilis. I think it was even a separate building from the house, and self contained. The objective of course is to prevent male guests from interacting with the wife and any daughters, and it worked very well. For exactly this reason, outside of perhaps a professional context, even asking about someone’s wife is not polite.
So I think Doug and I used every speck of Arabic to talk to the father of the house, as well as the 3 words I know in Swahili. It worked of course, not because we knew what we were doing, but because Omanis are so friendly that they’ll easily forgive any mistakes. So we all had dinner: no table, chairs, plates or silverware- a delicious spread of lamb kebabs, salad and a lentil (not spicy) curry. Doug has been a guest more than I and knew how to act the part better of beginning to stop eating and let the host encourage you along by putting more food in front of you. Its their way of making sure you eat enough, because if you’re not its not that you are not hungry, but just being shy. Again, this meal was exercise.
So we had our picnic lunch and walked back to where we started- where after washing off in the aflaj, we were picked up by Saleh’s friends from Izki. After experiencing the full extent of Omani coffee hospitality in their home- more on this later- we drove to a local petting zoo where the story goes that they have the one monkey in Oman. Unfortunately it was closed, but the upside is that we then walked around and I learned about Date palm trees, and we visited, actually the same wadi from hiking, just farther down. There we saw some surprisingly bright red and green rock, along with a cave. Next we drove to where the daily football game is played. It didn’t take too many invites to convince us to play, so Da’oud and I joined one team, and Doug and Saleh the other. It was this game that really tired me out. I think we played uninterrupted for an hour, on a dusty dirt regulation size field. It was really a highlight of my day- they were happy to play with us, and some were really pretty good. (Oh, my team lost 4-3) Afterwards, the 4 of us, and Saleh’s two friends walked over to their uncle’s farm to the well. There they set up the aflaj; started one of the three water pumps, and walah! Water! I should have taken a picture, but I’ll try my best here: 1) really deep well (possibly 500 ft.) 2) long pipe with water pump connected to a generator by a 10ft belt 3) Water flows to into a head-high square pool with a drain that flows into the flaj. Oh, and the water from the flaj sends water to the date palm trees. To wash we jumped up on the edge of the wall, and put our heads under the pipe feeding the cistern. The water was warm like the earth is! Then it was prayer time, so the 4 of them got out their prayer mats and prayed right there in the field- it was beautiful.
Now, our final adventure. The same two friends, after already picking us up, taking all of us around the whole afternoon, waiting and happily watching us play football, starting up their uncle’s well (and later that night taking us back home), had invited us to dinner earlier in the day. The custom (I see it as similar to our attempts at modesty by deflecting compliments) is to not accept invitations right away and allow the host to insist! Anyway, we entered the house compound (all houses have walls around them here) and were shown into the men’s sitting room, or majilis. I think it was even a separate building from the house, and self contained. The objective of course is to prevent male guests from interacting with the wife and any daughters, and it worked very well. For exactly this reason, outside of perhaps a professional context, even asking about someone’s wife is not polite.
So I think Doug and I used every speck of Arabic to talk to the father of the house, as well as the 3 words I know in Swahili. It worked of course, not because we knew what we were doing, but because Omanis are so friendly that they’ll easily forgive any mistakes. So we all had dinner: no table, chairs, plates or silverware- a delicious spread of lamb kebabs, salad and a lentil (not spicy) curry. Doug has been a guest more than I and knew how to act the part better of beginning to stop eating and let the host encourage you along by putting more food in front of you. Its their way of making sure you eat enough, because if you’re not its not that you are not hungry, but just being shy. Again, this meal was exercise.
Jebel Shams
We are driving down from Jebel Shams, the grand canyon of Arabia, and I already want to go back. The scale is indescribable, the beauty incomparable- but in an attempt, when I looked down from the ledge I got dizzy from the height and pattern of the walls. The landscape makes me think of Mars with its huge canyon and endless rocky desert. Geology I think would be much more interesting if taught in a setting like this. This is the highest mountain in Arabia, and is supposedly called the mountain of the Sun because when the sun rises, it hits this mountain first. What I would really like to do is hike in this area. There are just so many places to go, but it just doesn’t work in a group like ours. The next time I visit Oman for sure!
This is part of our “rural homestay” section- though we are neither in a rural setting nor in a home! Another SIT student and I are staying in a 3 rm apartment with 6 other college students- all guys of course. We are in the interior of Oman, the religious heartland, Nizwa. (aren’t the names cool?) I think my Arabic is improving, I can now create sentences with vocab and grammar that I know. I fell sorry for the kids who came here without interest in Arabic- because while it is frustrating sometimes, I very much enjoy the feeling of asking a proper questions every once in a while.
The remainder of the day was ablet o maintain the greatness. We went to an old village where mostly farmers lived. To me it seemed ancient in that everything was made of handmade bricks and mortar, and it looked like semi-restored ruins. But the reality is that everything built before 1970, the nicer buildings that is, was built like this. Anyway, they had an aflaj, which was awesome, one that ran through the city for drinking and bathing, and it continued on for farming use. The amount of time and effort that went in to building these, for me is almost incomprehensible.
We hiked along the farming aflaj for about an hour, traveling very very slightly uphill the whole way as the water was flowing against us. Sarah and I climbed the hill to visit a tower and there sat a local man and his boy- who seemed happy to see that we had made the same effort to get there as they did. I think they were passively keeping an eye on their flock of goats. Then on they way back I hiked up to an intact one that I could climb and go into- that was sweet.
Oh, what I forgot to mention about Jebel Shams was that Sarah and I walked to a promontory and there after climbing a very thin ledge (along the edge of the canyon of course) we found a cave made for two. From there we just wished it would rain cause not only were we under cover, but from there we had a view of the whole canyon and would be able to see all of the wadis that fed this canyon in action!
Later today we all went to the old fort of the Immam which was really fun. There were secret rooms, passageways, fail cells, towers, windows, portholes, courtyards, you name it (well something you’d expect in a castle that is) this place had it all. My favorite part was the jail cell, just a tiny room with a microwave-size entrance along the floor of one room- it was filled with dirt and completely pitch black. Also, standing on the top of the battlements was pretty sweet too. The last place we went to was the site of a bombed out and abandoned village from the ‘60s when Oman had two internal conflicts. The strangest part, and I have seen this elsewhere in Oman, just not the quantity here, was the dust on the ground was finer and lighter than white flour- just like I’d imagine moondust is like. I had a great time first stepping then jumping with both feet- creating clouds and strong shoeprints. Perhaps this is what quicksand is like if wet?
This is part of our “rural homestay” section- though we are neither in a rural setting nor in a home! Another SIT student and I are staying in a 3 rm apartment with 6 other college students- all guys of course. We are in the interior of Oman, the religious heartland, Nizwa. (aren’t the names cool?) I think my Arabic is improving, I can now create sentences with vocab and grammar that I know. I fell sorry for the kids who came here without interest in Arabic- because while it is frustrating sometimes, I very much enjoy the feeling of asking a proper questions every once in a while.
The remainder of the day was ablet o maintain the greatness. We went to an old village where mostly farmers lived. To me it seemed ancient in that everything was made of handmade bricks and mortar, and it looked like semi-restored ruins. But the reality is that everything built before 1970, the nicer buildings that is, was built like this. Anyway, they had an aflaj, which was awesome, one that ran through the city for drinking and bathing, and it continued on for farming use. The amount of time and effort that went in to building these, for me is almost incomprehensible.
We hiked along the farming aflaj for about an hour, traveling very very slightly uphill the whole way as the water was flowing against us. Sarah and I climbed the hill to visit a tower and there sat a local man and his boy- who seemed happy to see that we had made the same effort to get there as they did. I think they were passively keeping an eye on their flock of goats. Then on they way back I hiked up to an intact one that I could climb and go into- that was sweet.
Oh, what I forgot to mention about Jebel Shams was that Sarah and I walked to a promontory and there after climbing a very thin ledge (along the edge of the canyon of course) we found a cave made for two. From there we just wished it would rain cause not only were we under cover, but from there we had a view of the whole canyon and would be able to see all of the wadis that fed this canyon in action!
Later today we all went to the old fort of the Immam which was really fun. There were secret rooms, passageways, fail cells, towers, windows, portholes, courtyards, you name it (well something you’d expect in a castle that is) this place had it all. My favorite part was the jail cell, just a tiny room with a microwave-size entrance along the floor of one room- it was filled with dirt and completely pitch black. Also, standing on the top of the battlements was pretty sweet too. The last place we went to was the site of a bombed out and abandoned village from the ‘60s when Oman had two internal conflicts. The strangest part, and I have seen this elsewhere in Oman, just not the quantity here, was the dust on the ground was finer and lighter than white flour- just like I’d imagine moondust is like. I had a great time first stepping then jumping with both feet- creating clouds and strong shoeprints. Perhaps this is what quicksand is like if wet?
Salalah
I am riding a tour bus in Salalah, just past Sultan Qaboos’ palace . We just got in yesterday after a 1000km flight over endless desert from Muscat. From my limited experience here last night with cab drivers and locals, it may be that on a whole people here are nicer (if that can be possible!) than those in Muscat.. Perhaps its that they get fewer westerners here- some of whom will inevitably spoil friendly hospitality customs for future travelers. We were talking with someone from the ministry of health last night (more on him later) and having lived here his whole life, the only other Americans that have come to Salalah were soldiers. (There are several airbases here) I of course don’t bring up asking about American soldiers, but the couple times its been mentioned- people see them as reserved and “scared.” I am expecting that its less that they’re scared and more that the rules here defining codes of conduct off base are very strict- for obvious reasons.Anyway, so last night one of the group members, Doug, met and Omani man from the market, and several of us met up with them at the café they stopped at. There were 8 of us, and after an evening of him pushing delicious kebabs, bread, hummus, and tea (the best I’ve had in Oman) and talking about religion, Dhofar (the region we’re in now) languages, and everything else, he insisted on paying- and then on top of that his friend and him then drove all of us back to out hotel! I have to admit that both last night and in similar displays of genuine Omani hospitality I have been consistently wary- trying to figure out their angle, real purpose, etc. But while I am not going to just abandon that, I am beginning to understand that I am not in Russia, or even the US.
Yitti
I got a book that describes various hikes that one can do here in Oman. We were attracted to one that would involve hiking for 2hrs, and then we could find a local fisherman who would take us back to where we started. Sounds nice right? So we got to the starting point, and discovered that what was once a wadi (the place where water will drain) that you could walk in, is now the construction site of a new highway! So we were trudging along that road at the hottest part of the day (we were prepared for it, but it just felt hotter cause were along a road and not hiking) Then an Omani stopped in his car and entreated us to ride with him! Furthermore he was a tour guide who had just finished with his clients for the day. It ended up that he drove us to Yitti, we all had a picnic with the food we brought there on the beach, and then he took us the 30 min drive to Ruwi. Along the way he coached us in Arabic, sounding out difficult words (pretty much anything that has the aiyn sound) So the hike fell through, and it turns out that at that time of the day a ride on a fishing boat would have cost $45! But because of a nice Omani (they seem to be everywhere) we had a wonderful afternoon.
START HERE for New Posts!
It has been a while since I have posted anything- a combination of being in transit, computer viruses, and living in a more rural area. But there is a whirlwind to be caught up on- and here are some pictures to accompany you:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2064567&l=83182&id=4807606
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2064567&l=83182&id=4807606
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Walking in Muscat
Photos at:
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2061853&l=d6607&id=4807606
(I tried to sync this entry particularly so with my pictures on facebook- if you are up to task, I would recommend looking at them side by side.)
I am sitting at the base of an ancient fort situated on the top of a mountain overlooking the bay and main port of Oman. To get here required a little ‘rock climbing’ because it seems that they removed the lowest part of the staircase to prevent small children from coming up here. We’re eating a picnic lunch that we bought at “Muscat Bakery” and trying to soak in the view. The Blue water, the Green grass- the colors are so vibrant! Who would know that we’re in a country predominantly desert.
There are tons of seagulls here at the bay. The city seems to have placed these concrete tank-trap like things to prevent waves from forming close to the boardwalk- and each seagull chose one to sit and shit on all day.
The Royal Palace is different than anything I have ever seen before. Imagine multicolored medieval bugles, stood on their mouthpieces, and a roof on top- and that sort of describes his palace. But truly, its magnificent. I have read about the royal processions that go on occasionally, and if I see one- I will be sure to let you know cause the word on the street is that they are “off the hook” (?)So Oman is filled with forts- built throughout their history, and renovated at various times until today. In pretty much every town there will be one, and then there will be towers on various surrounding hilltops that were sometimes all connected with walls- like a fortress. There are two full forts around Sultan Qaboos’ palace, and they overlook both the grounds and the bay. There exists a staircase that can bring one up to the fort, but a big cement wall was placed near the bottom of that staircase to prevent non-committed tourists from seeing the fort for themselves. After a quick scaling of the cliff nearby (in dress shoes and petite sandals nonetheless!) we reached the staircase above that annoying wall, and were able to enjoy the palace grounds from a high vantage point.
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2061853&l=d6607&id=4807606
(I tried to sync this entry particularly so with my pictures on facebook- if you are up to task, I would recommend looking at them side by side.)
I am sitting at the base of an ancient fort situated on the top of a mountain overlooking the bay and main port of Oman. To get here required a little ‘rock climbing’ because it seems that they removed the lowest part of the staircase to prevent small children from coming up here. We’re eating a picnic lunch that we bought at “Muscat Bakery” and trying to soak in the view. The Blue water, the Green grass- the colors are so vibrant! Who would know that we’re in a country predominantly desert.
There are tons of seagulls here at the bay. The city seems to have placed these concrete tank-trap like things to prevent waves from forming close to the boardwalk- and each seagull chose one to sit and shit on all day.
The Royal Palace is different than anything I have ever seen before. Imagine multicolored medieval bugles, stood on their mouthpieces, and a roof on top- and that sort of describes his palace. But truly, its magnificent. I have read about the royal processions that go on occasionally, and if I see one- I will be sure to let you know cause the word on the street is that they are “off the hook” (?)So Oman is filled with forts- built throughout their history, and renovated at various times until today. In pretty much every town there will be one, and then there will be towers on various surrounding hilltops that were sometimes all connected with walls- like a fortress. There are two full forts around Sultan Qaboos’ palace, and they overlook both the grounds and the bay. There exists a staircase that can bring one up to the fort, but a big cement wall was placed near the bottom of that staircase to prevent non-committed tourists from seeing the fort for themselves. After a quick scaling of the cliff nearby (in dress shoes and petite sandals nonetheless!) we reached the staircase above that annoying wall, and were able to enjoy the palace grounds from a high vantage point.
Sharqiya Sands
Pictures at:
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2061851&l=60edd&id=4807606
I am in Sharqiya sands, listening to 8 men sing, play drums, and clap- enjoying sheesha after a wonderful meal of cucumber salad, tomatoes, hummus, lamb and Arabic bread.
We spent our day traveling, picnicking, and dune riding- hopefully followed by camel riding tomorrow! This is our first excursion as a group- and so far it has lived up to my expectations; plus I think we are all ready for some fun after two weeks of intensive Arabic and Omani cultural immersion. It was for things like these, connected with learning about what we are going to see in class first, that I selected this program because the academic director gives us the structure that allows us, I think, to see more of a country like Oman than I think I would be able to on my own.
We just finished dancing to the music I was talking about earlier. I really like the style here- its group orientated- we all sort of walked/clapped/danced around in a circle and people would go in the middle and dance special for everyone’s enjoyment. At one point a local guy grabbed my hand and we made a sort of limbo spot that everyone in the circle passed under two times around!
Right now I am sitting in front of a fire pit, and two German kids are grabbing pieces of brush and throwing them into the coals. It is pretty cool, and I now understand the attraction- the brush burns with a green flame. The desert night is very pleasant- cool and still- I wonder if its like this all year? (Probably not)
Oh, and the camp we are staying at- I feel like royalty coming into this place. It is decorated with tapestries, there are rugs on the floor that we take our shoes off to walk on, comfortable couches to lounge on (both on the floor and sitting height) and beautiful hanging lamps. If they somehow provided us with some snow sprinkled with sugar- I would think I was part of a story out of 1001 Nights.
Holy cow, do you know what a wadi is? I just spent the whole afternoon in one, and honestly this was comparable to my feeling of amazement in the Blue Grotto, but much more personal- more on that later.
So raise your hand if you do think that the world is a surprisingly small place. Well if your hand is up in the air, or you would have put it up had you not been the only person in the room- go ahead and rest. (there shouldn’t be anymore questions) I am now a firm believer in this concept. We traveled to a Bedouin household, and there an academic gave us a lecture on how the Bedouin live, work, travel- an overview. Well as it turns out, he got his Masters degree from Carnegie Mellon! He grew up in a small village in the mountains- a very rural part of Oman- and because he did so well in the government public schools he got a scholarship to study in the US.
Anyway, the rest of the day we explored a 500 year old city, which is still inhabited, particularly their water system. They draw water from underground aquifers, and using a system called Afilage distribute it to the many farms and places for public access. Honestly, in my ignorance I never fully understood how people could settle in the desert- I knew the basics, that people settle near the sources of water and use it efficiently; but to actually see it today, working without pumps or other equipment was fascinating.
The wadi. A wadi, can be best described by me as a place where water rushes down mountains and through valleys when it rains in a very dry environment. The edge of the one we visited is near the highway, and we hiked in about an hour and then had a picnic. (You’ll begin to notice that those are poplar here) We were at a spot where an underground spring surfaced, creating a large pool of water amid sheer mountains on either side. The sight was truly spectacular, deep-blue, green water amid tan, white and brown rocks everywhere else. We swam into the pool towards a cave, reaching it by swimming through a space that my head barely fit for about 3m. Inside…well, you’ll just have to visit Oman- but let me know, cause I want to go back!
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2061851&l=60edd&id=4807606
I am in Sharqiya sands, listening to 8 men sing, play drums, and clap- enjoying sheesha after a wonderful meal of cucumber salad, tomatoes, hummus, lamb and Arabic bread.
We spent our day traveling, picnicking, and dune riding- hopefully followed by camel riding tomorrow! This is our first excursion as a group- and so far it has lived up to my expectations; plus I think we are all ready for some fun after two weeks of intensive Arabic and Omani cultural immersion. It was for things like these, connected with learning about what we are going to see in class first, that I selected this program because the academic director gives us the structure that allows us, I think, to see more of a country like Oman than I think I would be able to on my own.
We just finished dancing to the music I was talking about earlier. I really like the style here- its group orientated- we all sort of walked/clapped/danced around in a circle and people would go in the middle and dance special for everyone’s enjoyment. At one point a local guy grabbed my hand and we made a sort of limbo spot that everyone in the circle passed under two times around!
Right now I am sitting in front of a fire pit, and two German kids are grabbing pieces of brush and throwing them into the coals. It is pretty cool, and I now understand the attraction- the brush burns with a green flame. The desert night is very pleasant- cool and still- I wonder if its like this all year? (Probably not)
Oh, and the camp we are staying at- I feel like royalty coming into this place. It is decorated with tapestries, there are rugs on the floor that we take our shoes off to walk on, comfortable couches to lounge on (both on the floor and sitting height) and beautiful hanging lamps. If they somehow provided us with some snow sprinkled with sugar- I would think I was part of a story out of 1001 Nights.
Holy cow, do you know what a wadi is? I just spent the whole afternoon in one, and honestly this was comparable to my feeling of amazement in the Blue Grotto, but much more personal- more on that later.
So raise your hand if you do think that the world is a surprisingly small place. Well if your hand is up in the air, or you would have put it up had you not been the only person in the room- go ahead and rest. (there shouldn’t be anymore questions) I am now a firm believer in this concept. We traveled to a Bedouin household, and there an academic gave us a lecture on how the Bedouin live, work, travel- an overview. Well as it turns out, he got his Masters degree from Carnegie Mellon! He grew up in a small village in the mountains- a very rural part of Oman- and because he did so well in the government public schools he got a scholarship to study in the US.
Anyway, the rest of the day we explored a 500 year old city, which is still inhabited, particularly their water system. They draw water from underground aquifers, and using a system called Afilage distribute it to the many farms and places for public access. Honestly, in my ignorance I never fully understood how people could settle in the desert- I knew the basics, that people settle near the sources of water and use it efficiently; but to actually see it today, working without pumps or other equipment was fascinating.
The wadi. A wadi, can be best described by me as a place where water rushes down mountains and through valleys when it rains in a very dry environment. The edge of the one we visited is near the highway, and we hiked in about an hour and then had a picnic. (You’ll begin to notice that those are poplar here) We were at a spot where an underground spring surfaced, creating a large pool of water amid sheer mountains on either side. The sight was truly spectacular, deep-blue, green water amid tan, white and brown rocks everywhere else. We swam into the pool towards a cave, reaching it by swimming through a space that my head barely fit for about 3m. Inside…well, you’ll just have to visit Oman- but let me know, cause I want to go back!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
PICTURES
I discovered how to share facebook pictures, so here are two links to pictures from Uganda. Enjoy!
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2060594&l=c1b53&id=4807606
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2060593&l=a89ef&id=4807606
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2060594&l=c1b53&id=4807606
http://cmu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2060593&l=a89ef&id=4807606
How to be clean
How about some more?
Have you ever run out of toilet paper and decided to use the garden hose to clean up instead? Oh, and then found toilet paper, so used it to dry- throwing it in the ever-present trash can to your left? Yes! Well, then you’re ready to come to Oman- cause I sure wasn’t when I got here and was told that we would have to adapt this style because a) it would be expected of us, and b) the toilets would probably clog up cause they weren’t designed with toilet paper in mind.
What we have here is something between a b’day (I have absolutely no idea how to spell it nor have I ever seen one) and the garden hose I spoke of- next to every toilet is a sprayer type thing- similar to what some people have attached to their sinks on a hose. Evidentially we’re to consider ourselves lucky to be in Muscat, cause in some places of the interior you’ll just find a pitcher of water. Which of course is THE reason why you do not eat, pass things, or greet others with your left hand. The custom makes a whole lot more sense with the pitcher concept cemented in my mind.
(However, what I still have yet to understand is how people here end up getting the whole bathroom wet! Both in Dubai airport and at the Muscat festival I heard the person before me spraying quite a bit, and when he finished entered the stall to find the whole place effectively sprayed at least once over.)
Alright me, enough toilet talk.
The absolute most experience that Omani drivers can have in country is 38 years. That’s cause before 1970 there was something like 12km of road, and come to think of it I don’t even know why there was that much cause the Sultan at that time forbade such modern items as eyeglasses- so I certainly don’t know what they were thinking when building a road, let alone bringing in cars. Maybe the British were keen to have a nice smooth ride once in a while.
Oh, what I am doing is not giving you yet another history lesson- but trying to say that Omanis are awful drivers. The parents picked it up later in their lives, and kids growing up with it are mostly in the age where not driving fast is social suicide, so racing is…common. Also, text messaging is all the hype here, evidentially its easier than just talking; even while driving. But the government has tried to change people’s ways- by putting in speed bumps, making the driving test more stringent, and upping traffic fines. I think something that contributes as well is that car insurance is really cheap, and after you pay the $150 deductible, they’ll pay for the rest of any damage. I know $150 isn’t nothing, but compared to most body work it sure is.
Let me end this entry with something that brightens my day:
Imagine Europe 1000 years ago. Think back to your last history class for a minute and try to picture it… then change the location to the desert. Oman got by on subsistence farming, fishing, exporting dates and frankincense. Modernization that in Europe was invented and implemented over those last 1000 years was replicated here in 20. That’s not even a generation! Do some old ways still linger in Oman? (Read on for the answer)
Asked about traveling between Zanzibar and Oman (a distance of about 2500 mi) and how long it takes and how people would get there; one of the group members found out that what the most experienced and learned people do is go to a certain secret place in the interior- and teleport.
Have you ever run out of toilet paper and decided to use the garden hose to clean up instead? Oh, and then found toilet paper, so used it to dry- throwing it in the ever-present trash can to your left? Yes! Well, then you’re ready to come to Oman- cause I sure wasn’t when I got here and was told that we would have to adapt this style because a) it would be expected of us, and b) the toilets would probably clog up cause they weren’t designed with toilet paper in mind.
What we have here is something between a b’day (I have absolutely no idea how to spell it nor have I ever seen one) and the garden hose I spoke of- next to every toilet is a sprayer type thing- similar to what some people have attached to their sinks on a hose. Evidentially we’re to consider ourselves lucky to be in Muscat, cause in some places of the interior you’ll just find a pitcher of water. Which of course is THE reason why you do not eat, pass things, or greet others with your left hand. The custom makes a whole lot more sense with the pitcher concept cemented in my mind.
(However, what I still have yet to understand is how people here end up getting the whole bathroom wet! Both in Dubai airport and at the Muscat festival I heard the person before me spraying quite a bit, and when he finished entered the stall to find the whole place effectively sprayed at least once over.)
Alright me, enough toilet talk.
The absolute most experience that Omani drivers can have in country is 38 years. That’s cause before 1970 there was something like 12km of road, and come to think of it I don’t even know why there was that much cause the Sultan at that time forbade such modern items as eyeglasses- so I certainly don’t know what they were thinking when building a road, let alone bringing in cars. Maybe the British were keen to have a nice smooth ride once in a while.
Oh, what I am doing is not giving you yet another history lesson- but trying to say that Omanis are awful drivers. The parents picked it up later in their lives, and kids growing up with it are mostly in the age where not driving fast is social suicide, so racing is…common. Also, text messaging is all the hype here, evidentially its easier than just talking; even while driving. But the government has tried to change people’s ways- by putting in speed bumps, making the driving test more stringent, and upping traffic fines. I think something that contributes as well is that car insurance is really cheap, and after you pay the $150 deductible, they’ll pay for the rest of any damage. I know $150 isn’t nothing, but compared to most body work it sure is.
Let me end this entry with something that brightens my day:
Imagine Europe 1000 years ago. Think back to your last history class for a minute and try to picture it… then change the location to the desert. Oman got by on subsistence farming, fishing, exporting dates and frankincense. Modernization that in Europe was invented and implemented over those last 1000 years was replicated here in 20. That’s not even a generation! Do some old ways still linger in Oman? (Read on for the answer)
Asked about traveling between Zanzibar and Oman (a distance of about 2500 mi) and how long it takes and how people would get there; one of the group members found out that what the most experienced and learned people do is go to a certain secret place in the interior- and teleport.
Where are Omanis from?
Well I have been making an attempt to study for an Arabic test tomorrow- and I have decided that its time for a break. Where did I leave off…
Being Omani:
So when I was trying to mentally prepare for living (am I really living here!) in Oman one of the things that ran through my head was picturing people here. Being an Islamic, Middle Eastern country- I expected, well, loads of Arabs. What I, and I think every student, was surprised to find out is that Oman is amazingly diverse. If you want a quick, child’s version of a history lesson on one reason why, then finish this paragraph. If not, I won’t hold it against you- just skip down to the next one. So back before the British decided they would stick their boats around the world so the sun (which so rarely shines on the UK) wouldn’t ever set on them, Oman actually had an Empire. Since it was a seafaring nation pretty much forever, their power stretched outwards from the ocean from the coasts of Pakistan to most of East Africa- with their most important holding there being Zanzibar. (now part of present-day Tanzania, where our President just visited if you track him) Anyway, Omanis went to settle there, and took wives. Now in the ‘60’s there was a native uprising in Zanzibar, and anyone of Omani descent that survived returned to Oman. So, “Zanzibaris” or “Swahilis” are the most conspicuous ethnic group in Oman- but there are of course many others, mostly from the close coast of Asia.
What is truly amazing though is the level of integration that exists here between citizens. (the mostly Indian migrant workers aren’t citizens) I truly thought that in America, many African-Americans had achieved a high level of acceptance and oneness with white-dominated society. But what I see here makes me think otherwise. I have been to a wedding where the guests were half “Arab” and half “Swahili” (the two getting married were both Swahili) and everyone absolutely got along with zero, I mean truly zero awkwardness. After dinner, everyone- young and old- (that includes me as well) danced to contemporary music to entertain the bride and groom. At the Muscat festival I saw black equestrians. Have you ever seen a black equestrian? Or several for that matter?
Let me skip ahead a little bit and describe my homestay family. The mom keeps house, with the help of a Sri Lankan maid; the dad is a manager at the government desalinization plant (and speaks seven languages!); they have 5 kids (26-14), all speak at least 3 languages, one is training to be an airline pilot, and 3 are in training to be oil engineers. Maybe I am racist, and truly I try to notice and eliminate that as often as I can; but if someone described this family to me, I sure would be surprised to find out that all but the mom has very dark skin- which of course here in Oman signifies Zanzibari heritage. A very important factor too is the level of intermarriage- so when various members of the mom’s family visits (which is pretty much every day, I am still counting sisters!) they look Arab, and when the father’s family visits, they look African. Wealth here seems to be spread among most ethnic groups- at least here in Muscat- and therefore I think the biggest difference between minority groups here compared to the US is equal access to education.
I know this has been a long explanation, but it is something that I encounter and think about every single day- I’ll get back to exciting adventures soon, I just have to set the stage cause I will be here in Oman for quite a while.
Being Omani:
So when I was trying to mentally prepare for living (am I really living here!) in Oman one of the things that ran through my head was picturing people here. Being an Islamic, Middle Eastern country- I expected, well, loads of Arabs. What I, and I think every student, was surprised to find out is that Oman is amazingly diverse. If you want a quick, child’s version of a history lesson on one reason why, then finish this paragraph. If not, I won’t hold it against you- just skip down to the next one. So back before the British decided they would stick their boats around the world so the sun (which so rarely shines on the UK) wouldn’t ever set on them, Oman actually had an Empire. Since it was a seafaring nation pretty much forever, their power stretched outwards from the ocean from the coasts of Pakistan to most of East Africa- with their most important holding there being Zanzibar. (now part of present-day Tanzania, where our President just visited if you track him) Anyway, Omanis went to settle there, and took wives. Now in the ‘60’s there was a native uprising in Zanzibar, and anyone of Omani descent that survived returned to Oman. So, “Zanzibaris” or “Swahilis” are the most conspicuous ethnic group in Oman- but there are of course many others, mostly from the close coast of Asia.
What is truly amazing though is the level of integration that exists here between citizens. (the mostly Indian migrant workers aren’t citizens) I truly thought that in America, many African-Americans had achieved a high level of acceptance and oneness with white-dominated society. But what I see here makes me think otherwise. I have been to a wedding where the guests were half “Arab” and half “Swahili” (the two getting married were both Swahili) and everyone absolutely got along with zero, I mean truly zero awkwardness. After dinner, everyone- young and old- (that includes me as well) danced to contemporary music to entertain the bride and groom. At the Muscat festival I saw black equestrians. Have you ever seen a black equestrian? Or several for that matter?
Let me skip ahead a little bit and describe my homestay family. The mom keeps house, with the help of a Sri Lankan maid; the dad is a manager at the government desalinization plant (and speaks seven languages!); they have 5 kids (26-14), all speak at least 3 languages, one is training to be an airline pilot, and 3 are in training to be oil engineers. Maybe I am racist, and truly I try to notice and eliminate that as often as I can; but if someone described this family to me, I sure would be surprised to find out that all but the mom has very dark skin- which of course here in Oman signifies Zanzibari heritage. A very important factor too is the level of intermarriage- so when various members of the mom’s family visits (which is pretty much every day, I am still counting sisters!) they look Arab, and when the father’s family visits, they look African. Wealth here seems to be spread among most ethnic groups- at least here in Muscat- and therefore I think the biggest difference between minority groups here compared to the US is equal access to education.
I know this has been a long explanation, but it is something that I encounter and think about every single day- I’ll get back to exciting adventures soon, I just have to set the stage cause I will be here in Oman for quite a while.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Ready...Set...Oman!
I have been in Oman exactly 2 weeks, boy do I have a lot of catching up to do! I’ll start with today. I went to the Muscat Festival, the last day of this I think month-long celebration of (existence?) and saw, among other things, about 100 Arabian horses dressed to the nines, a break dancing competition, skydivers, a Bedouin camel show, and the most popular singer from Saudi Arabia. Quite a combination huh? Well, that’s pretty how its been since arriving here- Oman seems to be right in the middle between its traditional way of life and “modernity” (you can choose how to interpret modern, cause being here I really have no idea.)
We all arrived on Feb 1 and had five days of orientation, which included visits to the Grand Mosque, supermarkets, the City Center (the newest, biggest, best, and only mall in Muscat) taxi rides, souk (market) shopping and endless lectures on how different Oman is from the US. I think the purpose was to eliminate cultural misunderstandings and prepare us for the different mindset Omani’s may have about governance, money, modesty, being Omani, driving, toilets and “clean.” (to name just a few of the most interesting) Want to find out what I may be talking about? Well read on then- but just for my own piece of mind, these are of course my own opinions- arrived at not after any sort of scholarly effort but just observing.
Governance:
The Sultanate of Oman is exactly that- a country ruled by a Sultan who has absolute power. The great thing is that since he took power in 1970, his government has actually used their modest oil revenues to unify the country, build loads of roads, schools, and hospitals, and most importantly- has kept people fat and happy. I have not yet seen the interior [Oh, Oman is pretty much Muscat, the capital, and everything else] but here everyone seems to have a nice house, a couple cars that aren’t necessarily extravagant (you see lots more Toyotas and Hondas than luxury cars) but they are clean (there is a law saying they must be so), and plenty to eat. Oil revenues make up 80% of the economy, and it seems that even despite the widespread knowledge that ministers are absolutely up to their eyeballs in money- that’s okay cause everyone else isn’t being squeezed for it. Omanis seem to genuinely adore their Sultan because of all these things, and I am saying this not just because his picture seems to be in every house and in every business. There exists a different sort of thinking than Americans when people talk about their government. People either say that with all the good this Sultan has done- there is little that would turn his reign into a bad one; or that who are they to criticize the government. A local official, a minister maybe- but “me,” I am not involved and therefore am not in a position to judge. The position makes a great deal of sense, especially when you take into account that most people here are just so distant from any deliberation, disagreement, and all decision making. In short, while there are governmental restrictions on the media and other public expression- what Oman has done with its oil revenues is a hell of a lot better than what has been done in Venezuela, Mexico, Nigeria, Romania, Communist-Russia, Shah-led Iran, Iraq; and particularly the UAE.
Money: All I have to say is that Omani’s have little reservations in flaunting their money- it takes a bit of getting used to. People work hard for it though, many work 6 days a week and increasingly both Father and Mother are working to maintain their standard of living.
Modesty: Interaction between men and women here are indeed changing because of mixed workplaces, markets, and schools now- but the tradition of separating the sexes still manifests itself in separate seating areas in restaurants for men and for families as an example. Most public places are predominantly male orientated. It is really something that depends on a person’s preference at this point, but many still wear the traditional Dishdasha and Abaya almost al the time. Ahh- dress. Omani’s seem to selectively decide what inspirations to listen to when preparing for the day. I have seen a guy dressed full-on gangster above the waist but then techno rave style pants, or a guy wearing a cowboy hat and a phanny pack! These things mixed in with Dishdashas everywhere I go is almost a sensory overload.
When it comes to Westerners, and the way scantily clad women (almost 100% tourists only) dress it’s a rough topic because they will be harassed walking around. Luckily our group was prepared beforehand, and everyone has been appropriate. I was continually confused as to why in a country with a predominantly observant Muslim population why men might heckle and harass. The best explanation for this behavior I have heard is that watching western media- many (almost all depending on your movie preferences) white women are…not conservative (if you’re speaking in polite company) particularly juxtaposed with the modesty of women here. So the perception becomes that this is just the way women are- and if they are inappropriately dressed, well that means they are just like the women in the movies.
Something that I found helpful towards seeing this different point of view is this: Just imagine the type of reception that a woman from a country where the norm is to be topless would receive if she walked around (particularly alone) in a predominantly male public place- like a construction site- and there is little difference anyway between topless and what some people where on a daily basis! If you’ve ever seen an Abaya, you’ll agree with me that all of a sudden seeing short shorts and a low tank top has to pull out a reaction. Please know that this is not meant to be justification for completely inappropriate actions- but only to try to explain a mindset.
Well, I’ve hit only half my topics, and I still have to talk about my wonderful homestay family- but its time to study Arabic. Thanks for reading!
We all arrived on Feb 1 and had five days of orientation, which included visits to the Grand Mosque, supermarkets, the City Center (the newest, biggest, best, and only mall in Muscat) taxi rides, souk (market) shopping and endless lectures on how different Oman is from the US. I think the purpose was to eliminate cultural misunderstandings and prepare us for the different mindset Omani’s may have about governance, money, modesty, being Omani, driving, toilets and “clean.” (to name just a few of the most interesting) Want to find out what I may be talking about? Well read on then- but just for my own piece of mind, these are of course my own opinions- arrived at not after any sort of scholarly effort but just observing.
Governance:
The Sultanate of Oman is exactly that- a country ruled by a Sultan who has absolute power. The great thing is that since he took power in 1970, his government has actually used their modest oil revenues to unify the country, build loads of roads, schools, and hospitals, and most importantly- has kept people fat and happy. I have not yet seen the interior [Oh, Oman is pretty much Muscat, the capital, and everything else] but here everyone seems to have a nice house, a couple cars that aren’t necessarily extravagant (you see lots more Toyotas and Hondas than luxury cars) but they are clean (there is a law saying they must be so), and plenty to eat. Oil revenues make up 80% of the economy, and it seems that even despite the widespread knowledge that ministers are absolutely up to their eyeballs in money- that’s okay cause everyone else isn’t being squeezed for it. Omanis seem to genuinely adore their Sultan because of all these things, and I am saying this not just because his picture seems to be in every house and in every business. There exists a different sort of thinking than Americans when people talk about their government. People either say that with all the good this Sultan has done- there is little that would turn his reign into a bad one; or that who are they to criticize the government. A local official, a minister maybe- but “me,” I am not involved and therefore am not in a position to judge. The position makes a great deal of sense, especially when you take into account that most people here are just so distant from any deliberation, disagreement, and all decision making. In short, while there are governmental restrictions on the media and other public expression- what Oman has done with its oil revenues is a hell of a lot better than what has been done in Venezuela, Mexico, Nigeria, Romania, Communist-Russia, Shah-led Iran, Iraq; and particularly the UAE.
Money: All I have to say is that Omani’s have little reservations in flaunting their money- it takes a bit of getting used to. People work hard for it though, many work 6 days a week and increasingly both Father and Mother are working to maintain their standard of living.
Modesty: Interaction between men and women here are indeed changing because of mixed workplaces, markets, and schools now- but the tradition of separating the sexes still manifests itself in separate seating areas in restaurants for men and for families as an example. Most public places are predominantly male orientated. It is really something that depends on a person’s preference at this point, but many still wear the traditional Dishdasha and Abaya almost al the time. Ahh- dress. Omani’s seem to selectively decide what inspirations to listen to when preparing for the day. I have seen a guy dressed full-on gangster above the waist but then techno rave style pants, or a guy wearing a cowboy hat and a phanny pack! These things mixed in with Dishdashas everywhere I go is almost a sensory overload.
When it comes to Westerners, and the way scantily clad women (almost 100% tourists only) dress it’s a rough topic because they will be harassed walking around. Luckily our group was prepared beforehand, and everyone has been appropriate. I was continually confused as to why in a country with a predominantly observant Muslim population why men might heckle and harass. The best explanation for this behavior I have heard is that watching western media- many (almost all depending on your movie preferences) white women are…not conservative (if you’re speaking in polite company) particularly juxtaposed with the modesty of women here. So the perception becomes that this is just the way women are- and if they are inappropriately dressed, well that means they are just like the women in the movies.
Something that I found helpful towards seeing this different point of view is this: Just imagine the type of reception that a woman from a country where the norm is to be topless would receive if she walked around (particularly alone) in a predominantly male public place- like a construction site- and there is little difference anyway between topless and what some people where on a daily basis! If you’ve ever seen an Abaya, you’ll agree with me that all of a sudden seeing short shorts and a low tank top has to pull out a reaction. Please know that this is not meant to be justification for completely inappropriate actions- but only to try to explain a mindset.
Well, I’ve hit only half my topics, and I still have to talk about my wonderful homestay family- but its time to study Arabic. Thanks for reading!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Abayudaya and Sipi
Celebrating the Sabbath with the Abayudaya
I showed up Friday afternoon to secure a place to stay and see how things were a little bit. It was a little scary because initially I was looking for the Rabbi- figuring he would be a good point person. But he was at the primary school, which was in a different area than the Synagogue. Luckily I ran into Alan, who showed me around, found a family I could stay with, and pointed my boda boda (the name for small motorcycles here) driver in the right direction. There I talked with the Rabbi who was clearly very happy to have another Mzungu visitor. Then I returned later that evening, and met the rest of the family I was staying with. They are actually the family of the sister of the Abayudaya Rabbi currently studying in the US- R. Gershom. Friday night services were fun, they had lots of singing and music, the children were really involved and there were (surprise) lots of white people in the area to volunteer! There was a doctor performing cleft surgeries (free of course) in Mbale, a couple working to help develop small business, three ladies working through Kulanu to help with education, and three couples in their mid twenties.
The meal was simple, the people around here, (and in almost all of Uganda for that matter) are subsistence farmers and we had beans, rice and cabbage- but the family was really friendly. Of course I only know what is going on when they speak English- 90% of the time they are talking in their local language. On Saturday after services I ate two lunches, cause I just couldn’t turn down their hospitality! After Havdullah, and consistent friendly invites to stay another night with the family- I did. What they really wanted was for me to stay the next 3 nights with them, and maybe I should have- but for some reason my mind was made up to see more of Eastern Uganda. The next morning I shared a boda boda into town with the mother- and so on this tiny motorcycle (scooter if you’re not being polite) there was the driver, his daughter in front of him holding my backpack with all my stuff, me, and Ya’el sitting side saddle. I am sure we were quite a sight! I left her my email address, and besides Habitat (everyone, even cab drivers, want to be in contact with Americans so they give you their email address) I think I am most likely to stay in contact with the Abayudaya.
I am now at Sipi falls, having climbed to the tallest point in this local area under the guidance of Paul…my guide. It is really quite beautiful up here. All the land around is fertile farmland with tall trees everywhere. Mesas and valleys are the landscape. I am pretty sure that Paul either wants to tire me out or test me, he is walking just about as fast as is humanly possible without running- and up hills at that!
We’re now at waterfall #2. I like this one because you can walk underneath. I could take a shower if I wished.
Well, we visited the last waterfall, and I back at where I’m staying now- the Crow’s Nest. Its build into a mountain, and I am now on top absorbing the view all around, and especially the three falls I visited today. We truly walked a long way! I was smoked pretty much the whole way; for a smaller guy, Paul sure is good at walking. Its also really nice that because there are so few cars I can, from up here, hear a lot of what’s going on all around.
I finished that sentence, sat listening and lazily enjoyed the view till I fell asleep- there on top of a mountain. I also napped today- for about 2 hours, and I can see how simple it would be to fall into this sort of lifestyle if one has loads of money; as it is easy, “relaxing” and… easy. Anyway, I am now in Mt. Elgon National Park, and tomorrow I will hike to see the peak. Alas, if I had brought a sleeping bag I could have slept on the side of the mountain!
So I met two Peace Corps volunteers last night at the Crows Nest (this is not this area’s busy season and we were the only guests!) I was struck that both girls, (well not girls but maybe now women yet either?) here had such freedom of movement- they took this weekend off, and one of them had gone home for Christmas, their motivations- they weren’t hippie types but rather “typical” Americans who really wanted to help out, and their view of the Peace Corps. There are 150 of them in Uganda, WOW. They seemed to be doing good work, but oversight here is low- for example, there is one girl who just spends most of her time with her British boyfriend who works in Jinja. The amount of aid work being done here is impressive, though to some degree that may add to the widespread corruption as the government doesn’t have to work as hard to keep citizens happy. I have seen plenty of Mzungus here, and I think just one group were straight tourists.
I showed up Friday afternoon to secure a place to stay and see how things were a little bit. It was a little scary because initially I was looking for the Rabbi- figuring he would be a good point person. But he was at the primary school, which was in a different area than the Synagogue. Luckily I ran into Alan, who showed me around, found a family I could stay with, and pointed my boda boda (the name for small motorcycles here) driver in the right direction. There I talked with the Rabbi who was clearly very happy to have another Mzungu visitor. Then I returned later that evening, and met the rest of the family I was staying with. They are actually the family of the sister of the Abayudaya Rabbi currently studying in the US- R. Gershom. Friday night services were fun, they had lots of singing and music, the children were really involved and there were (surprise) lots of white people in the area to volunteer! There was a doctor performing cleft surgeries (free of course) in Mbale, a couple working to help develop small business, three ladies working through Kulanu to help with education, and three couples in their mid twenties.
The meal was simple, the people around here, (and in almost all of Uganda for that matter) are subsistence farmers and we had beans, rice and cabbage- but the family was really friendly. Of course I only know what is going on when they speak English- 90% of the time they are talking in their local language. On Saturday after services I ate two lunches, cause I just couldn’t turn down their hospitality! After Havdullah, and consistent friendly invites to stay another night with the family- I did. What they really wanted was for me to stay the next 3 nights with them, and maybe I should have- but for some reason my mind was made up to see more of Eastern Uganda. The next morning I shared a boda boda into town with the mother- and so on this tiny motorcycle (scooter if you’re not being polite) there was the driver, his daughter in front of him holding my backpack with all my stuff, me, and Ya’el sitting side saddle. I am sure we were quite a sight! I left her my email address, and besides Habitat (everyone, even cab drivers, want to be in contact with Americans so they give you their email address) I think I am most likely to stay in contact with the Abayudaya.
I am now at Sipi falls, having climbed to the tallest point in this local area under the guidance of Paul…my guide. It is really quite beautiful up here. All the land around is fertile farmland with tall trees everywhere. Mesas and valleys are the landscape. I am pretty sure that Paul either wants to tire me out or test me, he is walking just about as fast as is humanly possible without running- and up hills at that!
We’re now at waterfall #2. I like this one because you can walk underneath. I could take a shower if I wished.
Well, we visited the last waterfall, and I back at where I’m staying now- the Crow’s Nest. Its build into a mountain, and I am now on top absorbing the view all around, and especially the three falls I visited today. We truly walked a long way! I was smoked pretty much the whole way; for a smaller guy, Paul sure is good at walking. Its also really nice that because there are so few cars I can, from up here, hear a lot of what’s going on all around.
I finished that sentence, sat listening and lazily enjoyed the view till I fell asleep- there on top of a mountain. I also napped today- for about 2 hours, and I can see how simple it would be to fall into this sort of lifestyle if one has loads of money; as it is easy, “relaxing” and… easy. Anyway, I am now in Mt. Elgon National Park, and tomorrow I will hike to see the peak. Alas, if I had brought a sleeping bag I could have slept on the side of the mountain!
So I met two Peace Corps volunteers last night at the Crows Nest (this is not this area’s busy season and we were the only guests!) I was struck that both girls, (well not girls but maybe now women yet either?) here had such freedom of movement- they took this weekend off, and one of them had gone home for Christmas, their motivations- they weren’t hippie types but rather “typical” Americans who really wanted to help out, and their view of the Peace Corps. There are 150 of them in Uganda, WOW. They seemed to be doing good work, but oversight here is low- for example, there is one girl who just spends most of her time with her British boyfriend who works in Jinja. The amount of aid work being done here is impressive, though to some degree that may add to the widespread corruption as the government doesn’t have to work as hard to keep citizens happy. I have seen plenty of Mzungus here, and I think just one group were straight tourists.
Solo traveling
I had an absolutely wonderful dinner the other evening. At the advice of my trustworthy guidebook (on loan from Deborah) I am staying at the Royal Princess Motel- I know, I was destined to stay here- which is right down the road from The Oasis of Life. It fixes up an English/American cuisine (cause of course those meals were broken!) and I first had a plate of fresh vegetables, followed by a beef and mushroom pie, and the best part- Apricot crepes for dessert, accompanied by a French press full of Uganda’s best coffee. In all, I had a fantastic evening- sharing the medium sized dining room with no one but some (naturally very loud) Japanese tourists and my copy of 1001 Nights.Backing up a little, getting here to Mbale was a little bit of an adventure- by my subdued, lackadaisical American standards that is. I spent the morning in Jinja, soaking in the source of the Nile (and avoiding a persistent walnut-sized bee). Oh, and I saw monkeys! They hang out in the park there. Anyway, I sauntered over to the bus station/chaotic free for all, to find that the bus had already left, and it was the only one of its kind that day. But there was hope, all I had to do was catch a bike to the highway, and there I could hop on a Taxi headed my direction. In Uganda, a “taxi” is a 15 passenger van, which I think is government owned (because they are absolutely everywhere and all the same year) which drives in a direction, and picks up whoever wants to go for a small charge. They are incredibly crowded, as most people who travel are doing so to sell their wares- be it plastic chairs, foam mattresses, bags of a seemingly random assortment of clothing, or (and I am not kidding) a live lamb (which cried out the entire ride, and if you don’t know lambs “crying” make the same sound as children bawling). Anyway, the van showed up, and someone was asked to give up the treasured front seat for me- I am forced to assume its an honor- but in reality I am not talking about the front passenger seat- but the chump seat squeezed into the middle, almost on top of the gearshift. Compared to any back seat not over the wheel, its worse, but people here seem to covet it nonetheless. In case this needs explanation, I am somewhat a spectacle here in Africa- particularly the farther away from Kampala I travel. Whenever I travel, the drivers want me to sit in front- they look and feel important with a white person next to them. A little girl asked her mother to sit next to me earlier today, and was amazed beyond just my looks when she discovered and felt the hair on my arms! The local term is “Muzungo” for a white person, and I am 99% sure its not derogatory, cause I have heard it in pleasant company as well- and when I am walking around I occasionally hear comrades pointing me out to their friends.I know I am off topic from my traveling story, but I must say that in the midst of all this, the people of Uganda are amazingly friendly and courteous. Across all social and economic lines, I have experienced basically nothing that would make me feel uncomfortable here. As an example, after about a week here I walked into a dimly lit dance club (a feat of its own) with about 200 Ugandans, and felt at ease. (except of course from the music which was generally awful and always too loud) This is also helped by the general knowledge of English, allowing me to exchange pleasantries easily. Back to the bus…the driver found it increasingly difficult to shift into gear, and after forcing it for a couple kilometers, we broke down on the side of the road, flanked on both sides by farmland. While I watched the driver open the hood and attempt to solve the problem with a rock (I kinda wish I was joking) the other passengers were using their time more wisely hailing another “taxi” that drove up not 45 seconds later. (I am telling you, these vehicles are everywhere) I think I caught the third one, mostly cause I was not willing to elbow my way through ladies with parcels jostling to get on. I made it to a town about a third of the way to where I was going, got on another taxi (accepting now grudgingly, particularly since I knew that the reason my but was so hot the whole way was that the front seat covered the bare engine, the front middle seat) and got to my destination; covering the 150km in a little over 5 hours.
I wrote something!
Welcome, and thank you for being interested in what I am thinking about as I travel in Uganda and Oman!
Now, where to begin…I left Los Angeles Jan 5 for Uganda, where I spent the rest of January as part of a Habitat for Humanity Global Village team and touring Uganda on my own.
12 strangers made up our team, ranging in age from 19 to around 70- and what do you know, we got along great! We started off by driving to Masindi from the capital, Kampala. I was so jetlagged at that point (I was in the air or in airports for almost two days) that I nodded on and off the whole way.
Now, I believe I could think back and describe each and every day- but allow me to reflect on some highlights. (occasionally in first person, if you don’t mind, as this is excerpts from my journal)
I was continually struck by the similarities to Sri Lanka. A former British colony (so they drive on the left, have roundabouts, and the educated people speak English), fighting rebels in the north, the roads are flanked by endless jungle and farmland, the lack of paved anything, and the smell is surprisingly seemingly identical- I couldn’t place it, but there is a sweetness in the air. (it could be a strange combination of raw diesel exhaust, charcoal and cow poop though for all I know) Another think is that instead of having Turkeys in the yard, our hotel has storks!
Man oh man did I start my day off with a jolt. I wanted to use my computer this morning to study Arabic, so I pluged in my power adapter and surge protector. But as I did that, it sparked and set on fire inside the box! Its clear now that I should not have plugged something in not rated for the voltage here- but whatever the case I am a little freaked out. (I have a particular fear of being electrocuted, and being hit by a car)
Anyway, yesterday was good. We showed up to the village and they had all turned out to see us. There was also a local dance troupe that performed, and as part of their singing they said all our names- and mine first! But I think that’s just cause I wrote the largest on my masking tape name tag. The houses, both what they had before and the final product are almost identical to Sri Lanka I spent most of my day crushing rocks with several members of the team, utilizing an extremely small sledgehammer. There are lots of kids around, and evidentially we are somewhat of a spectacle, and the family we are building the house for will forever be known as having hosted the whites. Then later this evening we had an icebreaker- what has surprised you about Uganda? My answer was that it sure isn’t as hot as I expected, the way people dress no nicely here (men are almost never seen without slacks, a dress shirt, and nice shoes), and the widespread use of English.
Mafia is a hit! The night before last I introduced the game and we were awake at least till 1130 playing. The team absolutely loves it, and all during the next working day they were talking about the games we had played the night before. What’s great about the game? Well, it changes not only from playing with different groups of people, but also from game to game as people have different roles and decide to alter their styles. It is especially good at helping to bring people together, provides a common ground for sharing other interests, and allows you to get to know other people outside of asking questions as you see how they tend to act in their roles- as personalities matter so much. Oh, and a bonus to myself, as I am often the moderator I am forced to learn names, and get to make up lots of creative exciting stories.
Today was an amazing day. We finally played the soccer game that Michael (out Ugandan Habitat leader) organized- us vs. teenage boys in the community. Since we found out about it we have been dreading the game, basically because we knew none of us were very good. Let me start by saying that earlier this week we went to a professional game- the Masindi team Kinyara (named after the local sugar factory) vs. a team from Kampala. It as fun, there were probably 300 or so people in this sort of make shift stadium designated by a tin fence that surrounded it. Anyway, it was pretty exciting and the crowd loved it cause the local team (ranked much lower) tied the game in the final minutes.
So, at our game, we showed up apprehensive after work to the local school pitch. What was amazing wasn’t the game itself (they won 3-2, but it wasn’t anywhere that close in terms of talent believe me!) but instead the crowd. I am serious when I say there were somewhere between 450-500 people watching us! I absolutely could not believe it. Every time the ball was near the goal everybody would hold their breath or cheer or yell. I had so much fun, and really- the town had a wonderful time.
Well, after our house dedication- we were able to complete two houses so both families and lots of local people attended- we started our tourist section of the trip. Oh, let me say that it wasn’t just us that built them, there are masons that Habitat hires and we work with them, assisting and doing everything that we can to allow the work to go much faster. They were really great guys, (and make sure to check out the picture of me with one of them- you’ll know the one I mean.) Anyway, I am now experiencing the height of luxury that Uganda can offer. We are staying at the Paraa Safari lodge- “The Jewel of the Nile” in the Merchison Falls National Park. It is wonderful, and I really feel that I appreciate staying here after doing construction for the last 2 weeks. I enjoy it cause in a way perhaps on this vacation I earned it. Now that I have been getting filthy and sweating the whole day being here is absolutely…relaxing. I can only imagine if we had been staying in the village instead of a hotel in Masindi. Driving around in the park, we are always on a Safari, and my colleagues have taken abundant pictures that I’ll post of all the animals we saw- lets see if I can list them: Water buffalos, elephants, giraffes, fish eagles, 10 or so different kinds of gazelle-type things, crocodiles, hippos, wild boars, monkeys, oh- and how could I forget- Lions! My favorite though was the giraffes and the hippos. I saw a giraffe running, and it was so graceful I think my heart skipped. And hippos are just awesome. If you disagree, check some out whenever you have a chance. And the Sky! For a while I just sat in our open topped van and just could not get enough of the beautiful bright blue flanked by clouds. Its kind of hard to say, but I cried a little as I tried to take it all in here.
If either now or later after reflection you want to learn more about Habitat- please either ask me (I love talking about it) or check out www.habitat.org/
I also spent some of my summer of 2005 on a GV trip in Sri Lanka, and if you’re interested in reading about that trip, here is a letter I sent out afterwards:
Hello Everyone,
Want to read about my Habitat global village trip to Sri Lanka? Read on then.
This summer I went on a two week trip, its amazing how much we were able to build and see in that short time. The way habitat works in Sri Lanka is twelve or so families will get together and save money (about 20 cents a day) and make monthly payments to habitat. Once four houses are half paid for, taking about 4 years to raise the $350, they build those, then repeat till everyone has a house. After that, all the families continue to save money till the houses are completely paid for. It’s a great system because these people, who are all mostly cash crop farmers, couldn’t do this alone- and as a bonus it strengthens village ties. When we got here the whole village came to welcome us- we all sat in a circle and the schoolchildren put on a traditional dance- in costume- and we heard words of thanks from the family members and the local monk (who was happy we weren’t there to convert people!)
Then we went to our hotel. Let me start by saying I was expecting at best a barracks style room for everyone to sleep in- with plenty of mosquitoes just like in Louisiana. Instead we were put up in several two person bungalows with a back porch that looks out over the lake our hotel is next to. We had three multi-course meals a day, a far cry from the tasty, yet ever-present peanut butter and jelly I am used to for lunches on Habitat trips.
Ok, so you must be wondering if we actually work, or just enjoy our accommodations right? Well, we work. Everything we did is manual labor- its impressive almost the lack of tools they need to build these brick houses. The first day, we moved bricks all day. Think about that for just a minute. All of our backs were wiped out- but we had all this enthusiasm because it was the first day, so it wasn’t a problem. Day two and three though, those were hard. We kept doing work that required bending over- but without as much enthusiasm and with an already sore body. Luckily starting the third day, they realized we weren’t complete nincompoops (which we almost are in their world) and we sometimes did more complicated jobs. I mixed mortar for probably 30 hours and have gotten quite good with the tool of choice- an oversized hoe.
When we’re not working, we learn about the country. One think I love about this trip is that since we are here to help people- everyone is happy to see us all the time and our days off we’re taken around by locals who speak English and have our best interests in mind. I often worry about traveling in other countries that I am seeing the wrong things or overpaying- but that fear is gone being with Habitat.
We saw several Buddhist temples and a mountain fortress. We had a joke going that everything of interest in Sri Lanka is at the top of a hill! Its cool cause we don’t feel as much like tourists having maybe earned our way a little bit first.
In the second week we all kind of shifted jobs, with another guy and myself assigned to dig a cesspool. That might not sound like too much fun, but we welcomed the opportunity. After a half day of digging the 6 foot diameter hole we still hadn’t gotten through the topsoil- that’s how fertile the ground is. The next day at 3 feet down we hit a layer or crystal that was about a foot thick, and then it was clay. By this point “the hole” had consumed our minds- we named our tools, talked about it constantly, and loved to admire the layers we had dug through. By the time we finished we moved over 900 cubic feet of soil, crystal, and clay; it was awesome.
There were several times we got together as a group and talked about why we came, and for a little while I and some other people were worried that it might have done more good to have just sent the money we spent getting to and staying in Sri Lanka. But the reality is the people needed and welcomed our help. One of the houses, the family had built the foundation seven years ago, and had bought all the materials already- but had been putting off building the house because their daughter got sick and they didn’t think they could both care for her and build the house even with the workers Habitat hires. With us there, we got that house and two others within three days of completion. The fourth family was the poorest of them all. They had been able to save to get a two room house, but were stalled because they had to use the tin roof and doorframes from their nearby mud house on the new one. With us there they knew they could make that transition quickly, and not get stuck between the two houses. It was that home that I helped dig the cesspool for, and we all participated in the dedication for that home at the end of our trip.I guess I am sending this to a lot of people because I had an amazing time so wanted to tell out- and also to have a basis for you to ask questions. If you want, check out the pictures on my facebook profile.
I would say my only regret it that I did not have a prior interest in the local language. Had I studied Sinhalese, I would have come away much more proficient because all day, all the two weeks we were there- everyone wanted to talk to us and get to know us. It was so different from being on a term abroad or something because people are much more forgiving for mistakes and cultural errors simply because they know what we were there for. So if you are learning a language especially, or if the prospect interests you- think about going on a Global Village trip sometime!
If this sparks the slightest interest, and you have questions about Global Village just e-mail me back and I will enjoy telling you whatever you want to know.
Also, here is a link to the Habitat website where you can find information too: http://www.habitat.org/
Thanks for reading this far, and I hope to hear from you!
Now, where to begin…I left Los Angeles Jan 5 for Uganda, where I spent the rest of January as part of a Habitat for Humanity Global Village team and touring Uganda on my own.
12 strangers made up our team, ranging in age from 19 to around 70- and what do you know, we got along great! We started off by driving to Masindi from the capital, Kampala. I was so jetlagged at that point (I was in the air or in airports for almost two days) that I nodded on and off the whole way.
Now, I believe I could think back and describe each and every day- but allow me to reflect on some highlights. (occasionally in first person, if you don’t mind, as this is excerpts from my journal)
I was continually struck by the similarities to Sri Lanka. A former British colony (so they drive on the left, have roundabouts, and the educated people speak English), fighting rebels in the north, the roads are flanked by endless jungle and farmland, the lack of paved anything, and the smell is surprisingly seemingly identical- I couldn’t place it, but there is a sweetness in the air. (it could be a strange combination of raw diesel exhaust, charcoal and cow poop though for all I know) Another think is that instead of having Turkeys in the yard, our hotel has storks!
Man oh man did I start my day off with a jolt. I wanted to use my computer this morning to study Arabic, so I pluged in my power adapter and surge protector. But as I did that, it sparked and set on fire inside the box! Its clear now that I should not have plugged something in not rated for the voltage here- but whatever the case I am a little freaked out. (I have a particular fear of being electrocuted, and being hit by a car)
Anyway, yesterday was good. We showed up to the village and they had all turned out to see us. There was also a local dance troupe that performed, and as part of their singing they said all our names- and mine first! But I think that’s just cause I wrote the largest on my masking tape name tag. The houses, both what they had before and the final product are almost identical to Sri Lanka I spent most of my day crushing rocks with several members of the team, utilizing an extremely small sledgehammer. There are lots of kids around, and evidentially we are somewhat of a spectacle, and the family we are building the house for will forever be known as having hosted the whites. Then later this evening we had an icebreaker- what has surprised you about Uganda? My answer was that it sure isn’t as hot as I expected, the way people dress no nicely here (men are almost never seen without slacks, a dress shirt, and nice shoes), and the widespread use of English.
Mafia is a hit! The night before last I introduced the game and we were awake at least till 1130 playing. The team absolutely loves it, and all during the next working day they were talking about the games we had played the night before. What’s great about the game? Well, it changes not only from playing with different groups of people, but also from game to game as people have different roles and decide to alter their styles. It is especially good at helping to bring people together, provides a common ground for sharing other interests, and allows you to get to know other people outside of asking questions as you see how they tend to act in their roles- as personalities matter so much. Oh, and a bonus to myself, as I am often the moderator I am forced to learn names, and get to make up lots of creative exciting stories.
Today was an amazing day. We finally played the soccer game that Michael (out Ugandan Habitat leader) organized- us vs. teenage boys in the community. Since we found out about it we have been dreading the game, basically because we knew none of us were very good. Let me start by saying that earlier this week we went to a professional game- the Masindi team Kinyara (named after the local sugar factory) vs. a team from Kampala. It as fun, there were probably 300 or so people in this sort of make shift stadium designated by a tin fence that surrounded it. Anyway, it was pretty exciting and the crowd loved it cause the local team (ranked much lower) tied the game in the final minutes.
So, at our game, we showed up apprehensive after work to the local school pitch. What was amazing wasn’t the game itself (they won 3-2, but it wasn’t anywhere that close in terms of talent believe me!) but instead the crowd. I am serious when I say there were somewhere between 450-500 people watching us! I absolutely could not believe it. Every time the ball was near the goal everybody would hold their breath or cheer or yell. I had so much fun, and really- the town had a wonderful time.
Well, after our house dedication- we were able to complete two houses so both families and lots of local people attended- we started our tourist section of the trip. Oh, let me say that it wasn’t just us that built them, there are masons that Habitat hires and we work with them, assisting and doing everything that we can to allow the work to go much faster. They were really great guys, (and make sure to check out the picture of me with one of them- you’ll know the one I mean.) Anyway, I am now experiencing the height of luxury that Uganda can offer. We are staying at the Paraa Safari lodge- “The Jewel of the Nile” in the Merchison Falls National Park. It is wonderful, and I really feel that I appreciate staying here after doing construction for the last 2 weeks. I enjoy it cause in a way perhaps on this vacation I earned it. Now that I have been getting filthy and sweating the whole day being here is absolutely…relaxing. I can only imagine if we had been staying in the village instead of a hotel in Masindi. Driving around in the park, we are always on a Safari, and my colleagues have taken abundant pictures that I’ll post of all the animals we saw- lets see if I can list them: Water buffalos, elephants, giraffes, fish eagles, 10 or so different kinds of gazelle-type things, crocodiles, hippos, wild boars, monkeys, oh- and how could I forget- Lions! My favorite though was the giraffes and the hippos. I saw a giraffe running, and it was so graceful I think my heart skipped. And hippos are just awesome. If you disagree, check some out whenever you have a chance. And the Sky! For a while I just sat in our open topped van and just could not get enough of the beautiful bright blue flanked by clouds. Its kind of hard to say, but I cried a little as I tried to take it all in here.
If either now or later after reflection you want to learn more about Habitat- please either ask me (I love talking about it) or check out www.habitat.org/
I also spent some of my summer of 2005 on a GV trip in Sri Lanka, and if you’re interested in reading about that trip, here is a letter I sent out afterwards:
Hello Everyone,
Want to read about my Habitat global village trip to Sri Lanka? Read on then.
This summer I went on a two week trip, its amazing how much we were able to build and see in that short time. The way habitat works in Sri Lanka is twelve or so families will get together and save money (about 20 cents a day) and make monthly payments to habitat. Once four houses are half paid for, taking about 4 years to raise the $350, they build those, then repeat till everyone has a house. After that, all the families continue to save money till the houses are completely paid for. It’s a great system because these people, who are all mostly cash crop farmers, couldn’t do this alone- and as a bonus it strengthens village ties. When we got here the whole village came to welcome us- we all sat in a circle and the schoolchildren put on a traditional dance- in costume- and we heard words of thanks from the family members and the local monk (who was happy we weren’t there to convert people!)
Then we went to our hotel. Let me start by saying I was expecting at best a barracks style room for everyone to sleep in- with plenty of mosquitoes just like in Louisiana. Instead we were put up in several two person bungalows with a back porch that looks out over the lake our hotel is next to. We had three multi-course meals a day, a far cry from the tasty, yet ever-present peanut butter and jelly I am used to for lunches on Habitat trips.
Ok, so you must be wondering if we actually work, or just enjoy our accommodations right? Well, we work. Everything we did is manual labor- its impressive almost the lack of tools they need to build these brick houses. The first day, we moved bricks all day. Think about that for just a minute. All of our backs were wiped out- but we had all this enthusiasm because it was the first day, so it wasn’t a problem. Day two and three though, those were hard. We kept doing work that required bending over- but without as much enthusiasm and with an already sore body. Luckily starting the third day, they realized we weren’t complete nincompoops (which we almost are in their world) and we sometimes did more complicated jobs. I mixed mortar for probably 30 hours and have gotten quite good with the tool of choice- an oversized hoe.
When we’re not working, we learn about the country. One think I love about this trip is that since we are here to help people- everyone is happy to see us all the time and our days off we’re taken around by locals who speak English and have our best interests in mind. I often worry about traveling in other countries that I am seeing the wrong things or overpaying- but that fear is gone being with Habitat.
We saw several Buddhist temples and a mountain fortress. We had a joke going that everything of interest in Sri Lanka is at the top of a hill! Its cool cause we don’t feel as much like tourists having maybe earned our way a little bit first.
In the second week we all kind of shifted jobs, with another guy and myself assigned to dig a cesspool. That might not sound like too much fun, but we welcomed the opportunity. After a half day of digging the 6 foot diameter hole we still hadn’t gotten through the topsoil- that’s how fertile the ground is. The next day at 3 feet down we hit a layer or crystal that was about a foot thick, and then it was clay. By this point “the hole” had consumed our minds- we named our tools, talked about it constantly, and loved to admire the layers we had dug through. By the time we finished we moved over 900 cubic feet of soil, crystal, and clay; it was awesome.
There were several times we got together as a group and talked about why we came, and for a little while I and some other people were worried that it might have done more good to have just sent the money we spent getting to and staying in Sri Lanka. But the reality is the people needed and welcomed our help. One of the houses, the family had built the foundation seven years ago, and had bought all the materials already- but had been putting off building the house because their daughter got sick and they didn’t think they could both care for her and build the house even with the workers Habitat hires. With us there, we got that house and two others within three days of completion. The fourth family was the poorest of them all. They had been able to save to get a two room house, but were stalled because they had to use the tin roof and doorframes from their nearby mud house on the new one. With us there they knew they could make that transition quickly, and not get stuck between the two houses. It was that home that I helped dig the cesspool for, and we all participated in the dedication for that home at the end of our trip.I guess I am sending this to a lot of people because I had an amazing time so wanted to tell out- and also to have a basis for you to ask questions. If you want, check out the pictures on my facebook profile.
I would say my only regret it that I did not have a prior interest in the local language. Had I studied Sinhalese, I would have come away much more proficient because all day, all the two weeks we were there- everyone wanted to talk to us and get to know us. It was so different from being on a term abroad or something because people are much more forgiving for mistakes and cultural errors simply because they know what we were there for. So if you are learning a language especially, or if the prospect interests you- think about going on a Global Village trip sometime!
If this sparks the slightest interest, and you have questions about Global Village just e-mail me back and I will enjoy telling you whatever you want to know.
Also, here is a link to the Habitat website where you can find information too: http://www.habitat.org/
Thanks for reading this far, and I hope to hear from you!
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