(or roughly the amount of time I will be spending abroad this coming school year)
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Cliff diving and rock climbing
The other day my family went to see the "Cliff diving world championships sponsored by Red Bull" held at Wadi Shab, about two hours from Muscat. (Wadis are these naturally-occurring oasis-es, usually in mountain valleys. For reference see below.)
Posters and adverts have been plastered everywhere since I got here, but honestly, few Omanis seemed as interested in going as me and my sister Mariam; a characteristic response was skepticism that it really was the championships, because, "This is Oman, why would they have something big in Oman?"
That attitude was evident as I looked out at the crowd, about 2/3 expatriate, and not few of them my teachers. It was weird seeing huge crowds of people completely disregarding Omani standards of modesty. A month ago I couldn't care less if someone was showing a ton of skin in public, good grief I worked at Merriweather, a living shrine to old people dressing inappropriately.
Also just a generally strange place |
I digress. As beautiful as Wadi Shab was, it was also hot and crowded, so we dipped out early to have a picnic on the beach.
We went to a beach a few miles away, near a town called Fins. My host family owns some land there, on which, inshallah, they plan to build a bed and breakfast one day. Right now it's just an empty beach with lots of exceedingly climb-able rocky outcroppings.
The village of Fins is just as photogenic, it looks exactly like one of the quaint little towns you picture when you think "Arabian village."
The village of Fins is just as photogenic, it looks exactly like one of the quaint little towns you picture when you think "Arabian village."
All in all, an amazingly-wonderful-I-can't-believe-this-is-my-life kind of day.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Muscat is no Mobtown
Okay so I know that it is completely unhealthy to dwell on the super-itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny-totally-not-even-a-big-deal-mom twinge of homesickness I'm feeling right now---but oh well, I am going to indulge myself.
I miss Mobtown, Charm City, Bawlmer, Hontown that crime-ridden-sinkhole-from-the-wire, that-super-colorful-acid-dream-place-from-Hairspray, the O's, The Ravens even, Natty Boh, crabs, insert stereotype here
I miss Mobtown Ballroom
I miss the unofficial house band The Boilermaker Band
I miss feeling totally boss about my parallel parking skills
I miss the Charles Theater, and Moonrise Kingdom which I never got to see
I miss getting lost in Druid Park and locking my doors on North Avenue
I miss the Fell's point visitors' museum and that guy who built model ships from the War of 1812
I don't miss Cafe Hon because that shit's touristy
I miss 100% grass fed beef burgers in Hampden
I miss turning a corner and half expecting to get mugged
I miss crab cakes and lobster and old bay potato chips (okay, I actually never really liked those)
I miss being forbidden from going to Lexington Market
I miss public art and the mural in Pigtown
I miss The Book Thing and its extensive collection of political analysis regarding the USSR
I miss not being able to find my car after seeing the Artist at midnight and being positive I was going to die on the street that night
I miss O's games and Matt being embarrassed by his Dad
I miss the Soundgarden---physical CDs here are limited to the top 40, legally obtained music is rare, and vinyl...ahahahahahahaa, in your dreams
I miss driving super slow over the cobblestones in Fell's Point and still feeling like my tires are slowly being ripped to pieces
I miss coffee---REAL coffee, brewed in pot, no cream, no sugar
I ridiculously miss swing dancing
I even miss fadeouts
I miss big band music and failing miserably at lindy and the weird pop songs they play if you stay long enough and generally sexy people who like great music and great dancing
I miss driving South on 95 at ridiculous hours of the night and seeing the exit for New York City...one day
Okay, that was cathartic. Honestly though, I really really love Muscat and being in Oman and like, everything. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here (okay, maybe if someone wants to teleport me to Cafe Jovial for for a few hours tonight I wouldn't mind--but I'm coming right back to Oman!) I think it's because I had so much fun today that it reminded me of the fun I've have back at home, seriously, today was a really awesome outdoorsy-adventure picture-taking extravaganza. Anyways, I'll do whole post tomorrow about the beautiful Wadi Shab, the beach at Fins and every awesome cultural thing I've done so far to make up for this triple dose of self-indulgence. Promise.
I miss Mobtown, Charm City, Bawlmer, Hontown that crime-ridden-sinkhole-from-the-wire, that-super-colorful-acid-dream-place-from-Hairspray, the O's, The Ravens even, Natty Boh, crabs, insert stereotype here
I miss Mobtown Ballroom
I miss the unofficial house band The Boilermaker Band
I miss feeling totally boss about my parallel parking skills
I miss the Charles Theater, and Moonrise Kingdom which I never got to see
I miss getting lost in Druid Park and locking my doors on North Avenue
I miss the Fell's point visitors' museum and that guy who built model ships from the War of 1812
I don't miss Cafe Hon because that shit's touristy
I miss 100% grass fed beef burgers in Hampden
I miss turning a corner and half expecting to get mugged
I miss crab cakes and lobster and old bay potato chips (okay, I actually never really liked those)
I miss being forbidden from going to Lexington Market
I miss public art and the mural in Pigtown
I miss The Book Thing and its extensive collection of political analysis regarding the USSR
I miss not being able to find my car after seeing the Artist at midnight and being positive I was going to die on the street that night
I miss O's games and Matt being embarrassed by his Dad
I miss the Soundgarden---physical CDs here are limited to the top 40, legally obtained music is rare, and vinyl...ahahahahahahaa, in your dreams
I miss driving super slow over the cobblestones in Fell's Point and still feeling like my tires are slowly being ripped to pieces
I miss coffee---REAL coffee, brewed in pot, no cream, no sugar
I ridiculously miss swing dancing
I even miss fadeouts
I miss big band music and failing miserably at lindy and the weird pop songs they play if you stay long enough and generally sexy people who like great music and great dancing
I miss driving South on 95 at ridiculous hours of the night and seeing the exit for New York City...one day
Okay, that was cathartic. Honestly though, I really really love Muscat and being in Oman and like, everything. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here (okay, maybe if someone wants to teleport me to Cafe Jovial for for a few hours tonight I wouldn't mind--but I'm coming right back to Oman!) I think it's because I had so much fun today that it reminded me of the fun I've have back at home, seriously, today was a really awesome outdoorsy-adventure picture-taking extravaganza. Anyways, I'll do whole post tomorrow about the beautiful Wadi Shab, the beach at Fins and every awesome cultural thing I've done so far to make up for this triple dose of self-indulgence. Promise.
Monday, September 24, 2012
How I spent my Saturday night
I find myself swimming once again in the murky bog of college applications, and all of them have these ridiculously pretentious essay questions like "In our university we all absolutely love to blah blah blah, please talk about how you also love to..." or "We know 90% of you are privileged suburban kids who have never known struggle, but still try not to sound like a total prick when you describe the greatest challenge you've ever faced."
Like, what color is this sayara?
I wish they would ask more meaningful questions
Like, what color is this sayara?
Or what is the fish's name? Ma ismuha?
This little girl was particularly interested in the fish and in taking pictures of them
How many kids have access to early-childhood intervention?
My "Auntie" Sabah runs the Early Intervention Centre for children with Disibility, an NGO, which is one of the very few that teaches pre-school-aged kids in Oman. I had the chance to go see the school a couple weeks ago, when my host siblings and I went over to help convert an office into a classroom.
It's a cozy little school, pushed into the nooks and crannies of two converted houses; as I walked through hallways filled with murals and wheelchairs I felt like I was back at Cedar Lane, the special education school where my mom teaches.
A school building may be nice, but without children it has no soul. I've been dying to help out with the kids, and I got my chance this past night. Every Saturday, parents have organized a support group for kids with Down Syndrome. Mostly it's just a disorganized time for the kids to run around the school and the parents to talk to teachers who volunteer their time doing extra physical or speech therapy etc.
I hung out with the kids, pointing to things, building block towers, and yes, practicing my Arabic. I think I've finally met my linguistic equals in some of these 4-year-olds.
I love kids because they're so full of life--they've yet to start following societal conventions which tell us to be unimaginative and mistrustful. Most of the those I met last night may never totally learn those conventions, that's why schools like this are so vital. These kids need a safe place to learn how to navigate a world full of people who have lost their wonder and excitement for life.
But that's the thing, I mentioned that Early Intervention is a cozy space, I think about 5 classrooms, and there's so many families just on the waiting list to come. There's thousands more whose parents don't live near a school like this or who don't know a place like it exists.
It is so fascinating to see a country amidst transition, one that has been rapidly modernizing but which still has so far to go in many respects. I'm really lucky to have a host family that is right on the cusp of much of this change. My Auntie Sabah who runs the school, my host mom who works for World Health Organization, my cousin who is part of the growing arts community, or even my host sister who is wants to be a vet and is passionate about the (nonexistent) animal rights situation here.
As an visitor, I can't make any sweeping proclamations or optimistic concluding statements about the future of Oman. I've only been here a month, and I while I only have the most rudimentary of understandings of this complex and diverse country, but I'm excited to be along for the ride
As an visitor, I can't make any sweeping proclamations or optimistic concluding statements about the future of Oman. I've only been here a month, and I while I only have the most rudimentary of understandings of this complex and diverse country, but I'm excited to be along for the ride
Friday, September 14, 2012
In light of recent events in my backyard
I feel silly to follow up the last post, which was so frivolous, with a such serious one, but I feel compelled to speak out in light of all that's been going on and my perspective as someone a little closer to it all than my friends in the states. I'm not sure what kind of coverage it's been getting over there, and I;m certainly neither the most eloquent nor the most qualified person to write on this. If you want better analysis of the recent unrest and attacks surrounding American and European embassies in Tunisia, Libya, Sudan, Yemen and several others, I suggest al jazeera, BBC news, and particularly this post from RNS which very clearly debunks several misconceptions about the situation.
I don't want to talk about the "film," because that's not what it is---it's hateful propaganda created for the sole purpose of inducing ire. The more we analyze and sensationalize it, the more we're playing into the hands of the people who created it.
The spark itself is not what matters, what is matters is the fire that follows it. What truly has significance is the action we choose to take in response, be it the response of some extremist terrorists to kill and destroy or our response to that destruction, even just with the formation of stereotypes or predjudices. I want my friends back at home, my family members--the Americans who probably see these news reports as a blip a midst a sea of politicians all vying to give the catchiest sound bite about the "Arab Spring,"--to know that these extremists are not their country. I want them to know that, in the same way that the people who created this hate-speech in the first place are not America, the people storming the embassy in Tunis are not Tunisia.
Something my host family was discussing, as we watched the news unfold on Al Jazeera this evening, is that, yes, we all understand that the US has nothing to do with some video on youtube; my family and I are well-educated, Oman is well-educated, Oman hasn't been struggling under a repressive regime for the past four decades. My host Dad points out that half these guys protesting in Sudan don't even watch youtube. Many are just following the crowd, many angry at their own government, many unemployed. As educated people, we need to resist the easy route of generalizing and blaming everything on one cause or one people.
As onlookers, it's paramount we remember that "Truth resists complexity." When you delve into the reports on these riots, you see that even those protesting are not homogeneous; in many cases protests are or begin as peaceful and separate factions are responsible for the violence. Particularly in the instance of the murders in Libya, it is widely speculated that these were not spontaneous acts in response to outrage, but rather planned terrorism with likely links to Al Qaeda.
What I want people to know is this: in the same way that the KKK and Westboro "baptist church" are not Christianity, the people inciting this violence are not Islam. It's a message that needs spreading even outside the context of recent events. I speak to my own experiences and knowledge of America, to the comments and articles I have seen regarding the aforementioned events, when I say that, as a country, we desperately need to have more complex, more diverse, more middle-ground picture of Muslims. Those who sensationalize minority factions and hold stereotypes based on the actions of extremists, forfeit their right to take part in rational dialogue, no matter what side they are on.
The things I've learned so far
Number of blog posts I've started: 7
Number of blog posts I've finished: 0 1!
Sorry guys, I'm trying harder now that life and schedules has settled down a bit. Since I've been going to school now for about 2 weeks I thought I'd talk about everything I've learned so far.
1. Omani time = [(the time you said you would be somewhere + number of people you're cramming into your SUV) ^ the number of minutes away you claim to be] / 2
2. Gangnum style is THE style
3. Navy-blue floor-length polyester uniform jumpers are super awesome except for the times when the sun exists.
4. Socializing in the common room, water balloon fights, smashing birthday cake onto peoples' faces, dance parties and silly string battles are both strictly and particularly banned at The Sultan's School due to a long history with all the above.
5. Swings are fun but you are too old and dignified to play on them.
7. Walking from English to Economics is basically the same as crossing the Arabian desert.
8. UNO is not the mild-mannered card game you once thought it to be.
9. The entire world watches Game of Thrones
11. Sometimes when you try to make a video for the state department showing how much of a successful exchange student you are and not only are people's responses not the cheesy one-line quips you were hoping for but the administration walks in and confiscates your ipod in the middle of your video (but it's okay--you get it back)
12. Sometimes you get so excited that you're about to actually finish a blog post that you skip a number
you can't tell from the picture, but a lot of screaming is going on |
11. Sometimes when you try to make a video for the state department showing how much of a successful exchange student you are and not only are people's responses not the cheesy one-line quips you were hoping for but the administration walks in and confiscates your ipod in the middle of your video (but it's okay--you get it back)
Not exactly the sentiment I was going for, but this is what you get when you point a camera at sarcastic high school students :)
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