Attaqs mumtar: Rainy Weather

Rain. It really is absolutely wonderful. I know that people talk about going out dancing in the rain, and I’ve jumped in a fair amount of giant puddles in my day, but I’ve gained such an appreciation for it here.

Oman isn’t in desperate need for water. I'm not sure how, but there a giant reservoirs below the city and they are pumped up though certain points. Little trucks drive around the city, bringing water to the houses to pump through the pipes. Our water guy comes every day. We use about 50 gallons? Washing clothes is normal, dishes, hands, showers. I do close to what I would do in the US. Obviously conserving water is still important, but there isn’t a dire shortage. The interior may be different. It likely is. 

The weather really is different, though. To preface, Oman's climate is extremely varied as one crosses over the mountains from the desert to the sea. There’s even snow on the top of the mountains at times. It still gets SO hot, though. And so humid. The entire summer is 50 degrees Celsius day and night (115ish F), but really, it’s likely much hotter. The government is required to call a national holiday for any weather over 50 so it very, very rarely goes over that. I’ve been told that showers are nearly impossible in the summer except for the middle of the night or very early morning for fear of burning yourself. So the rain we've been experiencing these past few weeks offers quite a change. The "cold" weather is spoken about with just the same happiness, although I don’t think they’re ready for Michigan winters. Cold weather here is about 65 F. 

At this point, though, I may be more excited for the rain than others. I just had a nice little conversation with my host dad about the storm last night that I slept through. He had been laughing at me while I had been running in the drizzle in front of our porch. A little while after the rain stopped, I headed back into the house. Minutes later he called me back to the porch where he is sitting doing work to show me the rain that started to pour again.

Further south in Oman on the other side of the desert, the Dhofar region maintains this miracle-esque rainfall throughout the summer. Unlike the north with only periodic rainy weather, the rain continues to pour throughout the season. A dreary desert becomes a tropical, rainy, misty, and green paradise. It's not as flashy as nearby Dubai, but the region attracts many tourists and is even believed to be Bountiful, paradise, for many Mormons. People of all sorts swarm in by the thousands, multiplying the population of the tiny town every summer/fall. Heavy rainfall and scores of camels populate the region.

Now in my home, as I hear little rumbles of thunder, and hear glops of rain hit the tile outside of our home, I can’t help but to smile just a little bit. It's just another day in Oman. :)

The Other Side of Things

As I sit here in this little coffee shop in Salalah (a city in Southern Oman, which you all will have the opportunity to hear about another time), I can’t help but to think about what it means to be here. Here in Oman.

I haven’t really said much in this regard, but as some of you may know, this trip has been a bit of a struggle. There have been multiple bumps and bruises along the way with drama that seems to persist. At times it’s worse than others, but life continues on.

So many times when you hear about study abroad trips, people cannot stop talking about how wonderful it is, how many experiences they’ve had, how much they’ve grown and learned. And in many ways, they are great, but you don’t typically hear about the struggles along the way. Some are harder than others. Problems differ in color and size. Perhaps you miss someone more than you can say, maybe you miss being with friends at home, maybe you miss mashed potatoes, maybe you miss knowing how to actually act and live, maybe you can’t help feeling the disappointment of unfulfilled expectations. With all of the new friends that make, you still can't help but to think of home. These experiences, travelling, they are fantastic. Even with all of the difficulties, there are so many other things that fill the voids. The truth is, though, that not everything is always as magical as a picture might imply. All of the "bad" still happens and it still hurts.

There's the typical. Languages are exhausting. Speaking Arabic all of the time has been really taxing. General life has made me exhausted. Life doesn't stop while you try to figure it out.

Then there is the unexpected. As an example, I've had so many issues with my school. Contrary to original presentation, the program was disorganized, the faculty miserable, and run by people more interested in money than the happiness and success of their students. In my strongest American vernacular, it was pretty sketch.

As a beginning traveler, I've been extra sensitive to what I've interpreted as "failures" on my part. I blamed myself for not being able to break the barriers between me and everyone else. Connecting to people has been really difficult. I'm starting to realize that I've been taking myself a little too seriously, but it's still hard. Sometimes it feels like no one really understands me and I feel like I constantly have to prove myself. My inner cultural crisis is practically the theme of a stereotypical highschool movie.

Gender relations have been difficult for me. It would be one thing if "appropriate" was consistently defined. From family to family, though, standards change drastically. I've gone to families’ homes that have clear distinctions between genders. As a non-relative, talking, greeting beyond a slight acknowledgement, shaking hands were all completely off-limits. I've met others that have laughed at me for even considering wearing hijab as a non-Muslim or found it rude to be "unnecessarily" distant.

With this variance, daily interactions become a game of constant cultural negotiations. Is it okay to shake hands with a man? Is it okay to have a conversation with a man? Is it okay to make eye contact? Is it weird if I say hello? What's too friendly? Omani women don’t really have to worry about this as much. These social rules are ingrained just like we as Americans know that standing closer than three feet to someone while talking is weird or that staring is creepy. You don't have to think about it to know. But as an American coming to Oman, I can never quite figure these rules out completely.

I sit in the kitchen with one of my brothers from time to time after he gets home from school. He comes home later than the rest of us, so just as everyone leaves, he comes walking through the door. I have no purpose to be in the kitchen other than to talk with him, but I usually stay, and I'm constantly on edge wondering if it's strange to the rest of my family. In all likelihood, it's probably entirely fine. I honestly just worry too much, but living in Oman has made me question it. My host brother is family, but he isn’t at the same time. In Oman, women simply don’t (or are not supposed to) talk to men who aren't family. No one would say anything to me for talking, but it’s the little things that make people uncomfortable or affect the way that they see you. That's what I worry about.

I was talking to one of my other brother’s wives as we sat around eating mangoes in the living room walkway. She told me about the other girls that stayed with my family. She said that before me, she never really liked the others. There was one, she was nice, modest, wore hijab in the house. My sister said, though, that she found out that the student wore shorts at The Wave, a condo complex specifically for expats in Muscat. Knowing this changed everything for her. She said that it was a matter of respect, and by not staying fully covered, this girl risked shaming the name of the family even if it was only among other expats. I am a generally modest person, but in Oman I've extra cognizant of it. Still, though, there have been times that I've worn (Bermuda) shorts or showed my arms up to my shoulders when I went camping or swimming with friends.

I've taught myself to walk on eggshells, but I'm slowly relearning how to step down a bit more firmly. Everything is a process and another opportunity to learn.

I may struggle with the most basic things, but so many others embody the life I've found in Oman. It's watching a group of women in abayas and tennis shoes running across a dusty field just after sunrise. It's sitting down in the park with the family on a Friday night. It's sitting in the car as one of my Omani brothers amuses himself with extreme offensive driving. It's about making plans with friends to tie-dye a dishdasha. It's about having the context to give all of these experiences meaning.

At the risk of sounding too dramatic, travelling teaches you things. It allows you to know something that others may not have the opportunity to learn. Because of my time here, I've been able to join a subculture of exchange. I live in a world of new idiosyncrasies. From amusing to difficult, these experiences have become home. 

Dubai

About this time last week, a few friends and I started planning a trip to Dubai. Two of us needed to leave the country this past weekend to renew our visas. It was a bit last minute considering the weekend here is Thursday/ Friday, but here we are. Things fell together mostly well, and come Wednesday night we were off on our way to Dubai.

The trip to the Omani-Emerati border is two and half hours of nothing mixed with slight blips of houses and strip malls as we made our way through small towns. Just before the border we stopped at a mall in Sohar, and as road trip rules dictate, I had McDonald’s for the first time in ages. For those of you that are wondering, it was not the same as the US.

Through the mountains, the road weaves back and forth across the border, running through what seems to be a million different checkpoints. It was night when we first made it, so we couldn't see much through the windows. Driving back, though, I realized how interesting the landscape is. Dubai is an extremely new city, and it's still growing. Unlike cities from the US that I have been to, there is no real suburban sprawl. It just kind of appears.It sprouts from the desert without much exaggeration.  

                A few minutes from the city. 

We didn’t stay in Dubai the first night, but instead we got a hotel in Sharjah, a neighboring emirate. It was the next day that we finally made our way into the city. 

We met our other friends in Dubai mall, which is HUGE. I can’t emphasize that enough. It’s crazy. It’s the world’s largest mall with over 1,200 stores and covers an area of over five million square feet and six floors. It includes a GIANT aquarium, a water fall, and sits right next to the Bourj Khalifeh which is the tallest building in the world.

The Bourj Khalifeh is a funny thing. Like the mall, I can’t emphasize how big it is. It’s incredibly tall. Looking at the skyline, you can see it miles before seeing the other buildings. The other buildings aren't short, but the Bourj Khalifeh reaches at least twice the height of the other buildings there.

                                     Picture thanks to www.trekearth.com. My pictures weren't 

       quite up to par.

Every building is a little unique. There's different architecture, different colors, different lights (each trying to impress with mini light shows). To be cliche, Dubai towers are like snowflakes with the exception of those in Jumeira, a really well-off part of Dubai constructed for foreigners (or that’s what it seemed).

There’s so much that we didn’t see. We didn’t make it to the souks or the giant water parks that attract thousands. We did go to two of the well-known beaches in Dubai, which were beautiful. Lincoln Park was a high point. Simply driving around the city was wonderful, though. 

Thursday night was an absolute headache. At the recommendation of another friend, we had delayed booking a hotel and consequently spent half the night looking for an open room. We drove across all of Dubai and the surrounding emirates. It was not the smartest decision I've ever made and I certainly will be more timely in the future. It provides a fun story, but a long drive, and a bucket-load of luck. I’m pretty sure we got one of the very last hotels in Dubai in a hotel far outside the city.

Getting back to Oman was a breeze, and now once again I am legal. All things are good. Altogether, a very successful trip.

e3id milaad sa3id: Happy Birthday!

It’s been a point of curiosity for quite some time now: how exactly are birthdays abroad. For those of you that don’t know, my birthday was yesterday.

I tried researching it. Sort of. Conveniently, two of my Omani siblings had birthdays before me, but they didn’t really do anything. So many times I heard about how birthdays aren’t very important in the Middle East, but I had no idea how far that actually extended or what it meant.

Nevertheless, it was wonderful. My family surprised me with a small birthday party with cake and pizza and juice. I’ve found a new love for juice and fruit here. I’m very impressed with their ability to throw a surprise party, although I guess it’s easy to pull off a surprise when the person’s language abilities are rather limited. ;) I went with them to the store with them to buy the cake even. They did direct my attention elsewhere, but still.

The day as a whole was great though. There was a normal day of classes, but we watched Aladdin. Disney always keeps things interesting. Today, my teacher brought us kanaffeh because of birthday and another student’s birthday tomorrow.

From home, though, the day was bright. I cannot emphasize enough the significance of receiving meal. The best present I could have asked for was a box full of letters from people close to me. I think that sometimes we forget how much words can change us. Or a phone call. I talked to some of the most important people in my life over the phone thanks to a wonderful app called Viber. Free calls and texts internationally. My mind was blown a few months back when I heard of it, and I hope that there’s one of you that may be in the same boat. But truly, if you ever need to thinking of  a good gift to go abroad, letters (and food) are the way to go.

And Costa was involved, a western coffee chain from the UK. A day is always good with Costa.

as-sa7ara2: The Desert

I feel like I couldn’t have a stereotypical trip to the Middle East without a trip to the desert, and so that’s what we did. (Aside from simply wanting to go). When I was in Jordan, I swore I would go back, so it really was all just a matter of time, I guess.

These trips aren’t exactly tourist traps, but they are definitely well-run businesses. I’m not sure about the business environment of the camps in Jordan (which I’m sure exists), but the experience was quite different. This time around it was almost like a little hotel in the middle of the desert, we had our own little room with real beds and even a bathroom, not that we spent too much time in the room.

We got there late afternoon, but the time went by  quickly. A little while before sunset, we went driving through the sand dunes. I don’t know how you learn to drive up and down sand, but it really is quite impressive.  It was rather exhilarating. Truly, if you ever get the chance, go.

There are sand dunes in Michigan along the lakes, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I think I really have a thing for sand. There’s something entirely different when you can see them rolling for miles. While we waited for the sun to set, we roamed all through them, running around, climbing, and just sitting. This time of day is amazing; you could see the shadows falling on one another as the sand dunes overlapped.

The stars, though, were amazing. People had always told me just how many stars you can see, but it’s so different when you can see them yourself. It seemed that the entire sky was painted in flecks. We drove back up to the dunes above the camp and made a bonfire.

A beautiful weekend with wonderful people, and inshallah, hopefully, there will be many more to come. 

Wadi bani Khalid

I’ve said time and time again how beautiful Oman is. It's the first thing I say when someone asks about my time here. In the US, I never knew that there were places still like this. So natural and beautiful, but here it is. Wadi ban Khalid is just one of those places.

First off, to set off the image, I should explain what a wadi is. It’s a riverbed, valley, canyon. This is where a friend of mine and I went. It was much smaller than I would have expected compared to other wadis I’ve been too, but it was so beautiful. The water was this beautiful green blue. Going to places like this really put the image of what an oasis is, and it’s beautiful. This wadi is as touristy as it is small. It’s one of the most commercialized in Oman, which I guess isn’t saying too much. Not much here is very commercialized to begin with.

There were little gazebos (or kiosks) around the ground as well as a muqaha (coffee shop/café). Then beyond that there was a line to explore. We went and found a cave, which was an adventure in and of itself. Camila and I were just going to hike there by ourselves, but there was a guy there that joined us. He “worked” for the wadi, helping people to the cave. There were a few other ones there as well. We tried telling him that we didn’t have any money, but it didn’t really work. I felt so bad when at the end he waited for us to give him money and we didn’t have it. The cave was cool, though.

We went swimming after that, and that was interesting. There are two groups that come to the wadi. Omani men and European tourists. It’s quite the interesting mix. It also makes it difficult to swim. It’s awkward a bit when you mostly see a pool (natural between the rocks) filled with men in a conservative society. It kind of made me feel like I was breaking a rule. But then French men came with speedos so I started to feel a bit better J

Being here reminded me again of the importance of family. Around all of the gazebos, there were families sitting and even a large group of Omani women walking around. It was an area for spending time with one another. Very accessible. Very beautiful. 

Al-u3rs: Weddings

It’s been about a week ago, but I had the opportunity to go to a wedding here. Just on the basis of invitation, the process is really interesting. Weddings happen all of the time. Not like the U.S. There are always weddings there, but here it’s crazy. They seem like they happen all of the time because the “wedding sphere,” the bubble of people appropriate or necessary to invite is absolutely enormous. Consequently, there are invitations quite frequently. Just as an example, the wedding I went to was my sister’s coworker’s sister’s wedding.

There wasn’t a ceremony per se like you would expect in a Christian tradition wedding. I’m actually a bit fuzzy on this fact; many people that I’ve talked to, argue that it all is a ceremony. To understand it in “western” terms, the wedding was more like a wedding reception.

Most weddings are at night around nine, which is when we went. When we went inside, a giant reception hall, we sat down with some of my host sister’s friends and talked for a while. During this period everyone just mingled, saying hello to everyone.

At some point afterward, the bride, a3roos, walks down “the aisle” between the tables. Her dress was beautiful, but it was absolutely huge. Not meant for walking. I don’t know the exact history of wedding dress histories, but there appears to have been a strong western influence. It looked like a dress may look in the U.S.   

She sat up in front of the room on a giant couch and different people came up to meet with her and talk with her, take pictures with her. We went to grab food, but mostly during this period is further time to socialize, but also dance.

Oman is a rather conservative country. It’s not expressly forbidden, but going out without an abaya is rather looked down upon. But here, the room was just women. So people were walking around in beautiful dresses. Extremely detailed, most very sparkly. But they were all of varying styles. While almost all of the dresses extended to the feet, most shoulders were bare. Ironically, I borrowed an abaya from my host sister; I didn’t have an appropriate wedding dress.

This changed, though, after about an hour and half, when the only male guest arrived. Everyone went to their chairs and slowly gathered their scarves and abayas, draping them over their hair and dresses. Then they sat down and waited for the groom, a3rees, to walk through.

He wore traditional Omani clothing: a nice dishdasha, massar, and khanjar (I don’t have pictures because cameras weren’t allowed, but you should look it up). He walked up to the bride and lifted her veil. I was too far away from them to hear, it would have been mostly whispers anyway, but he then kissed her forehead and they both sat down together.

Then that was it. The wedding apparently extends for the family, but once the man comes, everyone leaves. I think this was the strangest part for me because it just felt like a mass flock.

With all of this, it’s necessary to keep in mind that this is all just one part of the process. I don’t know the rest of the traditions for an Omani wedding, but they’re out there. I have no idea what the men do, just as an example. Learnings for another time perhaps.