I started writing this earlier and then obviously didn't post it until now. The ISP is now done, and I have a small amount of free time and a couple formal events between me and the airport. Don't plan on coming to an internet place again, so here's the last post from Oman.
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So here I am. I’m about to leave Oman in about a week. I have one more interview set up for my ISP. Other than that, I’m trying to write write write, since the ISP is due on the 11th. I’ve been coming to the local mall more than usual---this is the spot where I can get internet since there are at least three coffe shops with wi-fi around. It’s a different Oman than the one I live in most of the time.
It’s been a good experience, and I do feel a bit of regret that I didn’t spend more time describing things on this blog. Whoever came up with the idea of studying abroad for a semester was an intelligent person. I feel like I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve become more curious about many things. I’m sure I’ll be telling stories about Oman, and comparing and contrasting Oman to wherever I am for years to come.
Here’s a list of some things I’ll miss/some things I’m choosing to appreciate now. There have been some times in the last month where I’ve definitely felt “ready” to go “home”---with the obvious disclaimer that my image of home is actually quite a number of places. There have also been times where I’ve been very aware of what I’ll miss, and others where I’ve started counting what my stipulations would be if I wanted to live here permanently. Anyways, here’s the list, in no particular order.
Call to prayer: it’s iconic of the region. It reminds me that this is a different place, whenever I hear it. It’s almost always beautiful and moving. Despite the fact that I don’t go to a mosque to pray whenever I hear it, it reminds me of spiritual realities, especially as I get to understand the words more…”Allaaaaaaahu Akbar!...” –“God is the greatest!..” It’s a reminder of faith, of the foundations of worldviews—and it’s made evident five times a day. It’s great.
My host family: I’ll miss everyone’s eccentricities. Saad’s intense interest in the subtleties of western lifestyles, his sense of humor, his sense of what is proper, his efforts to speak proper fusha (standard Arabic) with me, his desire that I not only do well, but be the best in my class (very father like I guess). I’ll miss my host brothers and sisters. They’ve come to annoy me like real brothers and sisters, and thus endear themselves as well. I’ll miss Selma’s begging for attention, her lisped Arabic that I barely ever understand. I’ll miss Suleiman’s raw boyishness, and Ali’s oldest child seriousness. I’ll miss the youngest Sarah’s extreme love for handing me everything in the house. And won’t miss her temper tantrums.
Dates: The fruit. They’re great, we eat them all the time. That’s it.
Goats on the road. The dirt roads in Wadi Al-Alawami. The bbq/goat market area where I get off the taxi busses when I’m headed home.
Walks to Seeb Beach. The ocean is beautiful everywhere, and great for reflection. The absence of actual swimming (or swim suits) gives a nice touch to the beach. There are always fisherman lounging around on their little motor boats, waiting for night to come so they can head out for fish and return in the morning.
I will miss the extreme desire of Omanis to present their country, their village, their traditions, their language, and their religion in the absolute best light possible. It honestly irks me sometimes and seems and is somewhat prideful, but it’s also indicative of some cultural strengths.
Hospitality. I’ve learned to doubt the sincerity of those who only invite me to their house a couple times. I still am trying to understand what’s behind the idea that a guest honors the host rather than vice versa.
Hookah coffee shops. I honestly haven’t smoked much, but have hung out in them fairly often. Chilling with other SIT’ers, discussing the Arab world and our experiences while being drowned out by the Lebanese version of “American Idol”, a soccer game, or Oprah on tv.
Coke in glass bottles.
Speaking in Arabic. Arabic is a tough language to attain fluency in. I’m nowhere near there, but I love pretending I am and busting out my retinue of colloquial words with taxi drivers and strangers to see what they think.
People assuming I’m an Arab. It relieves my white guilt, and makes me feel like I must speak Arabic better than I do. I’ve had guesses range from Morocco to Syria. And then there’s always that, “well, actually I’m….American” and then waiting to see what their opinion of America is…
Dirt Soccer fields.
Frankincense. It gets burned in the house every day. I knew I would associate its smell with Oman after only 2 days in country.
Maselama!
Monday, May 11, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
ISP and Interfaith Discussions
We've been in "ISP Period" for a bit now, so I should probably get around to explaining what that means. For the last month that we're in Oman, we all stop classes, go out and interview people about a subject and then write a paper about it at the end of the month.
Overall, it's pretty good fun. My topic is a bit complicated, which has created some difficulties (not that they can't be surmounted). Succinctly, I'm trying to research Omani opinions about the disparities between Sharia law and UN definitions of human rights. This sound a bit touchy, but really doesn't need to be. My thought process starts out with the fact that a lot of people say there is conflict between the two. If there is, it's not necessarily evidence that one opinion is inferior. It's a case of conflicting values. Based on the way I understand the nature of morality, there are some things that contextually specific and there are others that are absolute.
So the question first of all is: Is there conflict between these two bodies of literature according to Omanis? If so, do they view this as a culturally specific thing, or is there indeed a clash of values/worldviews going on here? Some people in the west think that Sharia can be re-interpreted (by looking at the Quran and Sunna through modern perspectives)so that it could be completely in line with UN ideas of human rights. Is that what's happening? Is that what people want? Or are calls for re-interpretation just a form of neo-colonialism...forcing secularism on the rest of the world? If we're dealing with just concretely different and conflicting view on some issues, will the Muslim world push for a global consensus (by maybe pushing the west to no longer say that equality in inheritance laws is a human right, for example). After all, everyone still agrees on a lot of things.
My goal in the interview is to discern what the Omani response to the issue is more than whether they agree with certain perspectives or not.
What makes this hard is that I typically want to interview people who know Sharia well...which is a pretty small section of the population...a part of the population with a smaller percentage of English speakers than the rest of the educated population. So it's a challenge finding people to interview, but some of the interviews have been quite rewarding (as has "chill" time with some of the individuals). That's really what I came here for: good conversations about God, so I've been content with what I've gotten so far. I just need to keep putting myself out there to make contacts and follow up with them, which doesn't always come easily to me. The subject can be somewhat sensitive, but I really think those I interview have nothing to fear. My aim is to just bring out what people are thinking. I'm obviously no expert, but a lot of stuff I've read glazes past points of disagreement.
The word "human rights" has immense normative power, though, and if I don't explain what I'm doing well on the first go around people can become very defensive. It may seem surprising, but nearly everyone I talk to insists that there are more human rights in the Islamic world than in the west, and that women have more rights than men in Islam.
And that's the point--it's not like the west is sitting there saying "hey, this human rights stuff...get your act together" and the Islamic world is sitting there with a sheepish look on their faces. The point is that there are different ways of viewing the world, of viewing what it means to be human. There are indeed different worldviews interacting here, and that certainly justifies a call for dialogue, understanding. etc. (insert Brown cliches). It's true, though. True dialogue and meaningful dialogue comes when you're dealing with people who actually think that there is a right answer, yet respect, talk with, and even love those who are "wrong" anyways.
http://acommonword.com/index.php?lang=en
If two groups at least agree that the most important thing is to love God and the second is to love others, you'd expect they they'd have a lot to talk about.
Enough from me. Peace.
Overall, it's pretty good fun. My topic is a bit complicated, which has created some difficulties (not that they can't be surmounted). Succinctly, I'm trying to research Omani opinions about the disparities between Sharia law and UN definitions of human rights. This sound a bit touchy, but really doesn't need to be. My thought process starts out with the fact that a lot of people say there is conflict between the two. If there is, it's not necessarily evidence that one opinion is inferior. It's a case of conflicting values. Based on the way I understand the nature of morality, there are some things that contextually specific and there are others that are absolute.
So the question first of all is: Is there conflict between these two bodies of literature according to Omanis? If so, do they view this as a culturally specific thing, or is there indeed a clash of values/worldviews going on here? Some people in the west think that Sharia can be re-interpreted (by looking at the Quran and Sunna through modern perspectives)so that it could be completely in line with UN ideas of human rights. Is that what's happening? Is that what people want? Or are calls for re-interpretation just a form of neo-colonialism...forcing secularism on the rest of the world? If we're dealing with just concretely different and conflicting view on some issues, will the Muslim world push for a global consensus (by maybe pushing the west to no longer say that equality in inheritance laws is a human right, for example). After all, everyone still agrees on a lot of things.
My goal in the interview is to discern what the Omani response to the issue is more than whether they agree with certain perspectives or not.
What makes this hard is that I typically want to interview people who know Sharia well...which is a pretty small section of the population...a part of the population with a smaller percentage of English speakers than the rest of the educated population. So it's a challenge finding people to interview, but some of the interviews have been quite rewarding (as has "chill" time with some of the individuals). That's really what I came here for: good conversations about God, so I've been content with what I've gotten so far. I just need to keep putting myself out there to make contacts and follow up with them, which doesn't always come easily to me. The subject can be somewhat sensitive, but I really think those I interview have nothing to fear. My aim is to just bring out what people are thinking. I'm obviously no expert, but a lot of stuff I've read glazes past points of disagreement.
The word "human rights" has immense normative power, though, and if I don't explain what I'm doing well on the first go around people can become very defensive. It may seem surprising, but nearly everyone I talk to insists that there are more human rights in the Islamic world than in the west, and that women have more rights than men in Islam.
And that's the point--it's not like the west is sitting there saying "hey, this human rights stuff...get your act together" and the Islamic world is sitting there with a sheepish look on their faces. The point is that there are different ways of viewing the world, of viewing what it means to be human. There are indeed different worldviews interacting here, and that certainly justifies a call for dialogue, understanding. etc. (insert Brown cliches). It's true, though. True dialogue and meaningful dialogue comes when you're dealing with people who actually think that there is a right answer, yet respect, talk with, and even love those who are "wrong" anyways.
http://acommonword.com/index.php?lang=en
If two groups at least agree that the most important thing is to love God and the second is to love others, you'd expect they they'd have a lot to talk about.
Enough from me. Peace.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The Bubbles
So this is part of the micro view of my life over the last 2 and a half months. The big picture isn’t entirely filled in, so it may give you a distorted view of things, but sometimes there’s no avoiding that. (In other words, my life in Oman has not revolved around bubbles, despite what it may seem like at the end of this post).
We were told that it would be good to bring small gifts for our host family and also some gifts for small children with us when we came. I brought some bubbles, some Frisbees, and some sidewalk chalk. I, in my intelligence, decided to strategically space out when I would give the kids the gifts. The first thing I broke out, towards the beginning of homestay period, was the bubbles. I was initially glad because I had brought four little bottles of bubbles and there were four kids in my host family (although there are up to a dozen kids who come through the house some days). Not too surprisingly, the two oldest took a short but limited interest in them, while the younger ones couldn’t quite figure out how to use them properly. Here’s the key, though—after they were done using them, they returned the bubbles to me. They didn’t seem to understand that it was a gift, despite my efforts. After a bit I thought, “well hey, it’s a small house, so I guess my room is a logical place to store them anyways.”
The heart of the saga, though, is in the later developments with the two youngest children, Selma(4) and Sarah(18months). Their initial shyness began to dissipate with the bubbles, which they call “Saboon” = soap. That’s part of my surprise, actually. At first I was almost offended that bubbles should be called soap. They’re so much more than that---but then I realized…. that “bubble solution” actually is just soap. Marketing has ruined us. But anyways, Selma and Sarah really love the bubbles, which is odd, becaue Sarah hasn’t produced one bubble yet. She loves holding it though, and occasionally laughing as if she’s having fun with them.
And it has been perpetual drama in my room ever since then. For starters, everyone decided that the blue bubbles were superior to the other ones—and somehow the younger girl can seriously bully her older sister around enough to get them. My host sister’s friends have gotten in on the act, exacerbating the mob mentality surrounding the bubble culture. Also, there is this really intense process where they hand the bubbles back to me, then demand them back every 20 seconds or so. The bubbles have been refilled with soap several times now, but for the last 2 weeks, no one has actually blown any bubbles. Still the sheer joy of possessing them, passing them around, crying about them, handing them back to me, running around for five seconds then asking for them back has become somewhat of a neighborhood obsession, or “fad” if you will. The bubbles have been treated so roughly that all but one of the wands are actually broken now. The soap in the bottles is now some solution that’s inferior to the high quality American-engineered and Chinese made bubble solution available at your local Wal-Mart. The sidewalk chalk goes mostly unused as well, yet holding it, opening it, pointing at it, and passing it around are all gaining in popularity as well.
When it comes to children, I think I have the timidity of a five year old (I just hate seeing kids cry), and the grouchiness of a 70 year old (I can’t even describe how many diatribes I’ve prepared telling the kids about the futility of their actions, the false happiness of possession, the importance of sharing, etc.—unfortunately the diatribes are in English, and the kids speak highly colloquial Arabic, or don’t speak at all yet, so very few of the diatribes have been delivered).
The saga is continuing. To write this post, I decided to lock the door and not answer it. (I sometimes lock the door, but the kids have figured out that when they knock, I open the door, and they can run into my room then). It took a while for them to understand that I had wised up and wasn’t going to answer the door (even if they kept knocking for five minutes, and tried the handle every 5 seconds to see if I had unlocked it!)
And this is what cultural immersion is about I guess. There’s something to be learned here about views on property, personal boundaries, private space, public space, etc. but I don’t know what it is exactly.
We were told that it would be good to bring small gifts for our host family and also some gifts for small children with us when we came. I brought some bubbles, some Frisbees, and some sidewalk chalk. I, in my intelligence, decided to strategically space out when I would give the kids the gifts. The first thing I broke out, towards the beginning of homestay period, was the bubbles. I was initially glad because I had brought four little bottles of bubbles and there were four kids in my host family (although there are up to a dozen kids who come through the house some days). Not too surprisingly, the two oldest took a short but limited interest in them, while the younger ones couldn’t quite figure out how to use them properly. Here’s the key, though—after they were done using them, they returned the bubbles to me. They didn’t seem to understand that it was a gift, despite my efforts. After a bit I thought, “well hey, it’s a small house, so I guess my room is a logical place to store them anyways.”
The heart of the saga, though, is in the later developments with the two youngest children, Selma(4) and Sarah(18months). Their initial shyness began to dissipate with the bubbles, which they call “Saboon” = soap. That’s part of my surprise, actually. At first I was almost offended that bubbles should be called soap. They’re so much more than that---but then I realized…. that “bubble solution” actually is just soap. Marketing has ruined us. But anyways, Selma and Sarah really love the bubbles, which is odd, becaue Sarah hasn’t produced one bubble yet. She loves holding it though, and occasionally laughing as if she’s having fun with them.
And it has been perpetual drama in my room ever since then. For starters, everyone decided that the blue bubbles were superior to the other ones—and somehow the younger girl can seriously bully her older sister around enough to get them. My host sister’s friends have gotten in on the act, exacerbating the mob mentality surrounding the bubble culture. Also, there is this really intense process where they hand the bubbles back to me, then demand them back every 20 seconds or so. The bubbles have been refilled with soap several times now, but for the last 2 weeks, no one has actually blown any bubbles. Still the sheer joy of possessing them, passing them around, crying about them, handing them back to me, running around for five seconds then asking for them back has become somewhat of a neighborhood obsession, or “fad” if you will. The bubbles have been treated so roughly that all but one of the wands are actually broken now. The soap in the bottles is now some solution that’s inferior to the high quality American-engineered and Chinese made bubble solution available at your local Wal-Mart. The sidewalk chalk goes mostly unused as well, yet holding it, opening it, pointing at it, and passing it around are all gaining in popularity as well.
When it comes to children, I think I have the timidity of a five year old (I just hate seeing kids cry), and the grouchiness of a 70 year old (I can’t even describe how many diatribes I’ve prepared telling the kids about the futility of their actions, the false happiness of possession, the importance of sharing, etc.—unfortunately the diatribes are in English, and the kids speak highly colloquial Arabic, or don’t speak at all yet, so very few of the diatribes have been delivered).
The saga is continuing. To write this post, I decided to lock the door and not answer it. (I sometimes lock the door, but the kids have figured out that when they knock, I open the door, and they can run into my room then). It took a while for them to understand that I had wised up and wasn’t going to answer the door (even if they kept knocking for five minutes, and tried the handle every 5 seconds to see if I had unlocked it!)
And this is what cultural immersion is about I guess. There’s something to be learned here about views on property, personal boundaries, private space, public space, etc. but I don’t know what it is exactly.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Continued
I apologize for the unfinished nature of my last blog post. I'm still in Nizwa--one of the shababs took us to school with him today so I'm in the computer lab at Nizwa University right now. It's been interesting and enjoyable being here the last couple days, but first a jump back to the UAE and Qatar.
So, I haven't read that much about Dubai at all, but there was this very tall, spire like building there, and I was told that it was intended to be the tallest building in the world. Apparently they had to rethink things half way through when people in Abu Dhabi started planning an even taller buiding. You can see through the top floors of the buiding now, though, because construction is halted. I was told that the builders ran out of money. Dubai has been hit much harder than the rest of the region by the financial crisis. For lack of a better term, let's just say that lots of people in Dubai were acting very American with their money. To get just how symbolic this building was to me (I still don't even know its name), you should look up a picture of it, and I swear it has a ziggurat-ish shape. So there's a tower of Babel, built on the sand instead of solid rock, and the builders didn't count the cost before starting. That's Dubai in a nutshell.
Except for the whole racist, sexist, capitalist social structure thing. I was able to speak Arabic twice in Dubai--with expat Arabs--it's really an international city, and in my opinion, if there's any place that represents the mix of problems, hope, lies, sin, glitz, poverty, and wealth that is the modern world, Dubai is it--or close anyways. After being in a conservative, gender segregated society for so long, the centrality of prostitution was pretty shocking. --- And switching to the whole South Asian underclass, white upper class, and Arab financiers model in the city, it ocurred to me at one point that the problem is more that I am a racist than that Dubai is. I felt all "righteously indignant" and revolutionary as I observed things, but then I realized that I've known the world is like this for so long...but it didn't arouse feelings moving me to really reject things until I saw the rich and the poor together. I will condemn it in my head, but I don't actually FEEL bad profitting from the global, working "underclasses" in the States, but when they live in the same city as rich people I feel like something's wrong. Maybe I'm that guy who just doesn't want "other" races living in my neighborhood, or beggars in public places.
But enough about Dubai. Qatar was even richer and much less Las Vegas-y, a welcome thing. The same goes for Abu Dhabi. The Al Jazeera station did in fact make me feel like I was all that, which was part of the point I guess. Hah, no--not quite the point--but I was learning, though. I definitely know much more about the Gulf than I did, which of course triggers interest in more and more things. There were lots of amazing buildings, museums, and such in Qatar and Abu Dhabi...money can buy a lot of stuff.
And to bring it back quite quickly, here I am in Nizwa, which has a small town feel that I enjoy. We had the craziest time at a technical college the other day where we didn't realize that we were going to have "an open discussion" with Omani students on a stage in front of 100-200 other students. It was great, though. We got the expected questions about Obama, how we "view" or like Oman, etc. (everyone loves telling me that he's the first black, American president--I sometimes feel like I let them down when I reveal that I already knew that). Then, there was a sort of gameshow competition between Americans and Omanis. The questions were in Arabic, but we had some translation help and made out ok.
And I'll stop there, because I know I certainly wouldn't read this whole post in one sitting unless I had lots of homework to do. There's obviously lots that's happened and lots that I've been mulling over and thinking about. As always, it takes time.
Peace
So, I haven't read that much about Dubai at all, but there was this very tall, spire like building there, and I was told that it was intended to be the tallest building in the world. Apparently they had to rethink things half way through when people in Abu Dhabi started planning an even taller buiding. You can see through the top floors of the buiding now, though, because construction is halted. I was told that the builders ran out of money. Dubai has been hit much harder than the rest of the region by the financial crisis. For lack of a better term, let's just say that lots of people in Dubai were acting very American with their money. To get just how symbolic this building was to me (I still don't even know its name), you should look up a picture of it, and I swear it has a ziggurat-ish shape. So there's a tower of Babel, built on the sand instead of solid rock, and the builders didn't count the cost before starting. That's Dubai in a nutshell.
Except for the whole racist, sexist, capitalist social structure thing. I was able to speak Arabic twice in Dubai--with expat Arabs--it's really an international city, and in my opinion, if there's any place that represents the mix of problems, hope, lies, sin, glitz, poverty, and wealth that is the modern world, Dubai is it--or close anyways. After being in a conservative, gender segregated society for so long, the centrality of prostitution was pretty shocking. --- And switching to the whole South Asian underclass, white upper class, and Arab financiers model in the city, it ocurred to me at one point that the problem is more that I am a racist than that Dubai is. I felt all "righteously indignant" and revolutionary as I observed things, but then I realized that I've known the world is like this for so long...but it didn't arouse feelings moving me to really reject things until I saw the rich and the poor together. I will condemn it in my head, but I don't actually FEEL bad profitting from the global, working "underclasses" in the States, but when they live in the same city as rich people I feel like something's wrong. Maybe I'm that guy who just doesn't want "other" races living in my neighborhood, or beggars in public places.
But enough about Dubai. Qatar was even richer and much less Las Vegas-y, a welcome thing. The same goes for Abu Dhabi. The Al Jazeera station did in fact make me feel like I was all that, which was part of the point I guess. Hah, no--not quite the point--but I was learning, though. I definitely know much more about the Gulf than I did, which of course triggers interest in more and more things. There were lots of amazing buildings, museums, and such in Qatar and Abu Dhabi...money can buy a lot of stuff.
And to bring it back quite quickly, here I am in Nizwa, which has a small town feel that I enjoy. We had the craziest time at a technical college the other day where we didn't realize that we were going to have "an open discussion" with Omani students on a stage in front of 100-200 other students. It was great, though. We got the expected questions about Obama, how we "view" or like Oman, etc. (everyone loves telling me that he's the first black, American president--I sometimes feel like I let them down when I reveal that I already knew that). Then, there was a sort of gameshow competition between Americans and Omanis. The questions were in Arabic, but we had some translation help and made out ok.
And I'll stop there, because I know I certainly wouldn't read this whole post in one sitting unless I had lots of homework to do. There's obviously lots that's happened and lots that I've been mulling over and thinking about. As always, it takes time.
Peace
Friday, April 3, 2009
Looking back from Nizwa
I'm in Nizwa now, a small city/town in the interior of Oman. This blog post should be relatively short since "the shabab" = "mangi" = "young guys" are going to go out to get "mashkach" (bbq'ed goat)in a bit. Right now the guys from my program are living with some students here for a week to get a bit of a different perspective on life in Oman. It's pretty sweet--we've been out to wadis and mountains, played soccer in a parking lot last night... and we eat lots of meat. and Coke. I drink lots of Coke with my meat.
I really have no idea where to start because I've visited Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Sharjah, and Doha since I last wrote in this blog. (that's right---open google maps, haha--I had no idea where Sharjah was either).
I had a magnificent blog post ready when I was in Dubai...and I'm not gonna write it now...haha--because I have to go. The good life is calling.
I really have no idea where to start because I've visited Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Sharjah, and Doha since I last wrote in this blog. (that's right---open google maps, haha--I had no idea where Sharjah was either).
I had a magnificent blog post ready when I was in Dubai...and I'm not gonna write it now...haha--because I have to go. The good life is calling.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Salalah and a lot of other words
It’s been a pretty busy last week or so. We went to Salalah last weekend and we’re about to leave tomorrow for a week long trip to the UAE and
So first off, some abstract things before I describe a bit about Salalah. When we first got here, we were given a little talk about the “culture shock w-curve”—a basic talk about the swings of being in a new culture. Since then the students in my group have made lots of references to “the hammock” or low point of adapting to a different culture. I usually think that people’s moods are just cyclical no matter what culture you’re in. Regardless though, it’s true that the last week or two has included some of my low points in terms of cultural immersion. There have definitely been high points as well—Salalah being one of them, but I’ve noticed that instead of constantly being surprised by appreciating the call to prayer or the goats on the road, I’ve also thought things like “if I hear one more time about how dirty dogs are and how crazy it is that Americans let them in their houses with their children…” What can I say? God gives grace, so praise be to Him. There are usually many things that are true at the same time. Right now, I feel overwhelmed with Arabic and research for my independent study project (I've talked to half the country about Islam, but I really have no idea what it is I'm actually studying yet and have tons of reading I want to do...), I feel intellectually excited because there's stuff to analyze absolutely everywhere, I feel more emotionally volatile than normal, and I've been swinging between highs and lows spiritually.
So there's the context:
Salalah was an incredibly interesting city. The Sultan of Oman, His Majesty Sultan Qaboos bin Said grew up in Salalah since his mother is from there. Like I said, it's a bit different from the rest of the country and there was a rebellion there back in the 60's and 70's. It's more conservative socially (90% of women wore the burqa, or face veil in public), and richer agriculturally (we saw flocks of goats, cows, and camels absolutely everywhere). The southern corner of Oman and the northen bit of Yemen are the only part of the peninsula to get anything from the monsoons in the Indian Ocean, but a little bit of rain once a year can make such a huge difference in climate. The plus side was that meat is everywhere. I could seriously eat mashkach (Omani bbq), pita, amazing humus, chips, and Coke for dinner probably every night for a year and not be frustrated at the end of it. Omani men in Salalah just go out into the mountains every weekend with the guys, sleep under the stars, eat a whole goat, and practice jumping. That's pretty much one of the best things I can imagine doing on a weekend.
Religion: The south of Oman is almost entirely Sunni, whereas the north is primarily Ibadhi--the only place in the world where Ibadhi Muslims are the majority--their numbers worldwide are probably less than 2 million. Salalah is also a supposed center of black magic. We were there on a day when people repeatedly told us witches from around the world would congregate outside the town that night. (a Thursday night on a full moon). Jinn, or spirits, were a big deal and I talked with some guys from Dhofar University who were showing us around about it. (they were great guys by the way, excellent examples of Omani hospitality and friendliness). ALSO, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints recently decided that southern Oman is the place referred to as the Land of Bountiful in the Book of Mormon (where Nehigh, a Jew, took off in a boat for America). Also, people believe that the Virgin Mary's father is buried in Salalah (how he got over there I don't know). We ALSO visited the tomb of the prophet Job. Again, don't know how people know it's him, but it prompted some reflection on the story of Job during the visit. Both Jesus and Job are prophets in Islam so both places were decently big deals. (Nehigh isn't a prophet in Islam, but apparently there has been at least one plane full of Mormans that's come to see the place)
So that's probably more than enough for a blog posting. I've definitely felt quite busy, but (in sha allah) the trip to Emirates and Qatar will be relaxing. A potential high point will be visiting Al-Jazeera headquarters in Doha, Qatar. The crazy thing is that after we get back from the Emirates and Qatar we're only here a couple days before heading to live in Nizwa for a week (an important city in the interior that used to be the head of the government during the Ibadhi imamate).
By the way, Ibadhis: After the fourth caliph, or successor to Mohammed, there was a political split among Muslims. Some said the caliph had to come from the prophet's family, others said he had to come from the prophet's tribe, a small minority ended up saying that the caliph could be anyone as long as he was righteous and the community agreed that he was righteous. In the roughest possible terms that's the history of the split between Shii'a (prophet's family), Sunni (prophet's tribe), and Ibadhi (anyone righteous). The Ibadhis in Oman used to decide on an Imam by sending delegates of the different tribes every time they needed a new Imam---the imam had to be picked by consensus rather than a mere majority of support. Crazy history here. Awesome.
Hope all is well with everyone. Allah maak (God be with you)
Monday, March 2, 2009
So I thought I'd devote one blog entry to describe a normal day for me now. There have been a fair amount of such days recently, so hopefully this will provide a more detailed explanation of the state of my life recently than my first impulse to declare that "not much has been going on".
I usually wake up to the alarm on my cell phone, turn it off, lie in bed for another 10-20 minutes, and then shower (cold, there's hot water, but it's not hooked up to come out of the shower yet), get ready for the day, and eat breakfast--tea that my host mom left out for me and toast that I "cook" all by myself.
I then wait for the car that takes me to school every day. As per the usual pattern of my life, I'm the only guy who was fated to go to school in the "women's" car. School is only 4 minutes or so away by car, which is close compared to most of the students at SIT right now. I then study Arabic from 9-noon with a half hour break in the middle. In the afternoon, we usually either study "field methods" of research, have a guest lecturer come and talk about various subjects having to do with development, etc. in Oman, or we go over readings or discuss development and such on our own. Some days we just get out at noon, which is great. There are 10 of us in the thematic seminar on development and 8 in the thematic seminar on economics and diversification. for Arabic, the 18 of us are split into three groups of beginning, intermediate, and advanced.
We're usually on our own for lunch, but food is pretty cheap at most places. (Again, the only problem being that so many places only carry Pepsi products--my mental map of my area is based on different stores that I know carry Coke). Taxis and buses (which don't run on a schedule at all but just go up and down the main highways and roads) are pretty cheap so getting around isn't hard.
When I do get back to the house I usually try to get what homework I have done pretty early (if I decide to do homework that day...), since my host dad likes to take me out doing stuff with him in the afternoon and evenings a lot. Shopping is definitely man's work here so I've spent a fair amount of time in grocery stores, sooqs, and tiny shopes of every variety. My host dad is definitely into home improvement so we're always looking for another flower pot, electrical wire, or pipe at one of the hundreds of tiny shops owned by primarily South Asian expatriates in the area. These little errands can actually already begin to seem "humdrum" sometimes, but I'm still often struck by things, like ridiculous music on the radio (people saying "life is sweet" in Arabic againd and again), the beauty of the ocean, mosques and the call to prayer, and the sheer joy of seeing young guys fiddling with cell phones, middle aged men bargaining, and old men doing absolutely nothing but greeting each other again and again (by far the best of the three) -- all in public and all in traditional dress.
It's not unusual for us to stay out until perhaps 9 or 10, which is about when we usually have dinner. My host dad and I eat in the "sitting room" --which is actually a separate building, while my host mom and the children eat in the house. I enjoy dinner a lot because that's when I have the most conversations with my host dad. We've discussed all sorts of things (obviously religion being one of the main topics of conversation). I think I'm beginning to get a "feel" for his life, values, and ideas about all sorts of things, which is a main part of studying abroad I think--that "feel" for a place and the people there. Sometimes we have coffe and dates after I've done a bit more homework or right after we've finished dinner. And then usually I would go to bed not long after that. I'm beginning to develop a habit of going up to the roof to look at the area before I go to sleep.
That's the bare bones of a pretty typical day. Obviously other things happen--sometimes we go and visit friends or relatives in the evening as well. (and sit in their "sitting room/area" -- majlis and eat some coffee and dates and talk). Sometimes I go to use internet in the afternoon (like today).
There are plans in the works to go to both a camel race and a wedding in two different places in the "interior" (usually meaning anything but the coast, where most people who live in the Muscat area are originally from) this weekend, so I'm pretty pumped about that. (remember the weekend is Thursday and Friday, so today it's Munday--which is functionally Wednesday because it's the middle of the week.) The weekend after this one we're going down to Salalah, way in the south of the country, so that should be a good experience to understand what it's like in the south. It's apparrently pretty different because the "empty quarter"--a huge desert covering a good part of eastern Saudi Arabia as well, kind of splits the country in half.
May peace be with all of you.
I usually wake up to the alarm on my cell phone, turn it off, lie in bed for another 10-20 minutes, and then shower (cold, there's hot water, but it's not hooked up to come out of the shower yet), get ready for the day, and eat breakfast--tea that my host mom left out for me and toast that I "cook" all by myself.
I then wait for the car that takes me to school every day. As per the usual pattern of my life, I'm the only guy who was fated to go to school in the "women's" car. School is only 4 minutes or so away by car, which is close compared to most of the students at SIT right now. I then study Arabic from 9-noon with a half hour break in the middle. In the afternoon, we usually either study "field methods" of research, have a guest lecturer come and talk about various subjects having to do with development, etc. in Oman, or we go over readings or discuss development and such on our own. Some days we just get out at noon, which is great. There are 10 of us in the thematic seminar on development and 8 in the thematic seminar on economics and diversification. for Arabic, the 18 of us are split into three groups of beginning, intermediate, and advanced.
We're usually on our own for lunch, but food is pretty cheap at most places. (Again, the only problem being that so many places only carry Pepsi products--my mental map of my area is based on different stores that I know carry Coke). Taxis and buses (which don't run on a schedule at all but just go up and down the main highways and roads) are pretty cheap so getting around isn't hard.
When I do get back to the house I usually try to get what homework I have done pretty early (if I decide to do homework that day...), since my host dad likes to take me out doing stuff with him in the afternoon and evenings a lot. Shopping is definitely man's work here so I've spent a fair amount of time in grocery stores, sooqs, and tiny shopes of every variety. My host dad is definitely into home improvement so we're always looking for another flower pot, electrical wire, or pipe at one of the hundreds of tiny shops owned by primarily South Asian expatriates in the area. These little errands can actually already begin to seem "humdrum" sometimes, but I'm still often struck by things, like ridiculous music on the radio (people saying "life is sweet" in Arabic againd and again), the beauty of the ocean, mosques and the call to prayer, and the sheer joy of seeing young guys fiddling with cell phones, middle aged men bargaining, and old men doing absolutely nothing but greeting each other again and again (by far the best of the three) -- all in public and all in traditional dress.
It's not unusual for us to stay out until perhaps 9 or 10, which is about when we usually have dinner. My host dad and I eat in the "sitting room" --which is actually a separate building, while my host mom and the children eat in the house. I enjoy dinner a lot because that's when I have the most conversations with my host dad. We've discussed all sorts of things (obviously religion being one of the main topics of conversation). I think I'm beginning to get a "feel" for his life, values, and ideas about all sorts of things, which is a main part of studying abroad I think--that "feel" for a place and the people there. Sometimes we have coffe and dates after I've done a bit more homework or right after we've finished dinner. And then usually I would go to bed not long after that. I'm beginning to develop a habit of going up to the roof to look at the area before I go to sleep.
That's the bare bones of a pretty typical day. Obviously other things happen--sometimes we go and visit friends or relatives in the evening as well. (and sit in their "sitting room/area" -- majlis and eat some coffee and dates and talk). Sometimes I go to use internet in the afternoon (like today).
There are plans in the works to go to both a camel race and a wedding in two different places in the "interior" (usually meaning anything but the coast, where most people who live in the Muscat area are originally from) this weekend, so I'm pretty pumped about that. (remember the weekend is Thursday and Friday, so today it's Munday--which is functionally Wednesday because it's the middle of the week.) The weekend after this one we're going down to Salalah, way in the south of the country, so that should be a good experience to understand what it's like in the south. It's apparrently pretty different because the "empty quarter"--a huge desert covering a good part of eastern Saudi Arabia as well, kind of splits the country in half.
May peace be with all of you.
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