Everyone who's an expat knows that you feel a little lost now and then. Where do you belong? In your home country? In the last place you lived? Here?
Relationships are both destroyed and strengthened. I have lost touch with many people, but I am convinced that my relationship with my husband couldn't possibly have developed the same depth without extensive and challenging travel together.
So is it a good thing or a bad thing? Should you go home? Does it matter? Are you happy here?
There are so many questions that spin through my (and I would venture to say, most expats' heads) especially when you're feeling down.
ExpatMum got me thinking about these questions again morning over my coffee (as if I needed reminding!) Check out here post here: http://expatmumsilverjeweloman.blogspot.com/2009/11/lost.html
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Wrong and Wrong
I don't want to make any enemies here, but I feel compelled to comment on an article that I just read which was linked into "A Learning Muslimah"'s blog.
It praises the place of women in Islamic countries and speaks of the horrors of the life of a Western woman.
I titled this "Wrong and Wrong" because in my opinion, the author (an American Christian woman) is totally wrong about women here in the Arab world, and is also totally wrong about women in America.
She glamorizes, idealizes, paints almost a fantasy life of what she thinks really goes on here, while on the other side she describes an equal but opposite mis-representation of women in America.
There is always more than what meets the eyes. And besides, what is written is not even what meets the eye, if you've actually lived in both places.
Gotta look deeper, babe. That's all I can say.
Read it here:
http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&cid=%201164545989052&pagename=Zone-English-Family/FYELayout
It praises the place of women in Islamic countries and speaks of the horrors of the life of a Western woman.
I titled this "Wrong and Wrong" because in my opinion, the author (an American Christian woman) is totally wrong about women here in the Arab world, and is also totally wrong about women in America.
She glamorizes, idealizes, paints almost a fantasy life of what she thinks really goes on here, while on the other side she describes an equal but opposite mis-representation of women in America.
There is always more than what meets the eyes. And besides, what is written is not even what meets the eye, if you've actually lived in both places.
Gotta look deeper, babe. That's all I can say.
Read it here:
http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&cid=%201164545989052&pagename=Zone-English-Family/FYELayout
Sunday, November 1, 2009
10 Truths for the Day
This doesn't really have anything to do with Oman per se, but I think all these things are more important when you're an expat and in a difficult place to live.
1. Be nice to your officemates. Make them coffee. Bring in a treat now and then. It spreads good vibes and it's easy to do.
2. Get up early and at the same time every day. Routine is important. Just get your ass up even if your bed is super comfy.
3. Be pleasant to locals, but if you don't feel like it, politely decline coming over for coffee and Helwa.
4. Get enough sleep.
5. Learn to say "No" to everyone. Saying no politely can be an art. Develop it.
6. Don't feel bad about the little things that keep you sane. Even if it's watching Rachel Ray everyday (dear God...).
7. Eat lots of yogurt. This country does a serious number on your stomach.
8. Don't just sit at home and do nothing (if you live in the boonies I like me). It's hard but even just go for a walk. It helps.
9. Let yourself be miserable sometimes.
10. It's okay if you have to crawl under the covers, hide, and pretend you're in la-la land everyday. Just make sure you make a plan and get up.
1. Be nice to your officemates. Make them coffee. Bring in a treat now and then. It spreads good vibes and it's easy to do.
2. Get up early and at the same time every day. Routine is important. Just get your ass up even if your bed is super comfy.
3. Be pleasant to locals, but if you don't feel like it, politely decline coming over for coffee and Helwa.
4. Get enough sleep.
5. Learn to say "No" to everyone. Saying no politely can be an art. Develop it.
6. Don't feel bad about the little things that keep you sane. Even if it's watching Rachel Ray everyday (dear God...).
7. Eat lots of yogurt. This country does a serious number on your stomach.
8. Don't just sit at home and do nothing (if you live in the boonies I like me). It's hard but even just go for a walk. It helps.
9. Let yourself be miserable sometimes.
10. It's okay if you have to crawl under the covers, hide, and pretend you're in la-la land everyday. Just make sure you make a plan and get up.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Different Children
So we finally found the three miscreant boys who stole from me, and we told them to return it, or we will go to their house (another boy filled us in as to where they live), and if that doesn't work, then we will go to the police. Still trying grassroots up, but I'm seriously loosing interest.
Anyhow....
I had a different sort of interaction with some neighborhood girls yesterday. While we were waiting for the boys to come return the thing with their tails between their legs (which they didn't of course), the doorbell rang. This time it was 5 young girls, between 12 and 5 years old.
They formed a benign semi-circle around me and waited for me to say something. We exchanged the normal greetings...pause.
"What are your names?" I asked
They told me. ...Pause.
"So, how old are all of you?" I kept going.
They told me...Pause. I'm not really sure what to say at this point. I used to think I was really good with kids, but the children here seems to totally throw me off my game.
"Uh, so the weather is really nice now, huh?" I commented. The old default of the weather didn't enthrall them.
Pause... They are still just standing there looking at me, not offering any conversation items.
The call to prayer sounded from the local mosque.
"So, do you speak any English?"
"No," they said. I'm out of conversation topics at this point.
"So, I'm making dinner (a lie) so maybe later, ok?"
"That's fine," the older one said. "We are going to go pray now anyways."
"Do you pray??" piped up the middle girl.
Awkward...given that one, I'm not Muslim and two, that I'm not religious at all really.
"Well, not like you," I offered innocently. Hey, I grew up Catholic and I still think there's lots of great elements to Christianity.
They just look confused at my statement.
"Well, you see, I'm not Muslim," I continued. Am I just digging myself into a hole here? Probably, but I don't want them to think that everyone they like is by default a Muslim, because all good people must be Mulism, right? This is a very common train of thought here.
"You're not?" she asked sort of accusingly.
"No, but there are lots of Muslims in America. But most people there are Christian though," I explained. Note here that in areas like where I live, trying to explain atheism, agnosticism, or even the existence of another religion outside of the big three does not go over well.
"So you're Christian, then?" She asked.
"Yes."
With that they all did a synchronized hair-pin turn and went out the gate.
Oopps???
Oh well...what else do they know to do?
Anyhow....
I had a different sort of interaction with some neighborhood girls yesterday. While we were waiting for the boys to come return the thing with their tails between their legs (which they didn't of course), the doorbell rang. This time it was 5 young girls, between 12 and 5 years old.
They formed a benign semi-circle around me and waited for me to say something. We exchanged the normal greetings...pause.
"What are your names?" I asked
They told me. ...Pause.
"So, how old are all of you?" I kept going.
They told me...Pause. I'm not really sure what to say at this point. I used to think I was really good with kids, but the children here seems to totally throw me off my game.
"Uh, so the weather is really nice now, huh?" I commented. The old default of the weather didn't enthrall them.
Pause... They are still just standing there looking at me, not offering any conversation items.
The call to prayer sounded from the local mosque.
"So, do you speak any English?"
"No," they said. I'm out of conversation topics at this point.
"So, I'm making dinner (a lie) so maybe later, ok?"
"That's fine," the older one said. "We are going to go pray now anyways."
"Do you pray??" piped up the middle girl.
Awkward...given that one, I'm not Muslim and two, that I'm not religious at all really.
"Well, not like you," I offered innocently. Hey, I grew up Catholic and I still think there's lots of great elements to Christianity.
They just look confused at my statement.
"Well, you see, I'm not Muslim," I continued. Am I just digging myself into a hole here? Probably, but I don't want them to think that everyone they like is by default a Muslim, because all good people must be Mulism, right? This is a very common train of thought here.
"You're not?" she asked sort of accusingly.
"No, but there are lots of Muslims in America. But most people there are Christian though," I explained. Note here that in areas like where I live, trying to explain atheism, agnosticism, or even the existence of another religion outside of the big three does not go over well.
"So you're Christian, then?" She asked.
"Yes."
With that they all did a synchronized hair-pin turn and went out the gate.
Oopps???
Oh well...what else do they know to do?
Monday, October 26, 2009
ladies' health clubs
Just a quick blog post here in a spare moment. I wanted to give a shout-out to a great post that I read the other day by Dhofari Gucci about women's secret health clubs in Oman.
http://dhofarigucci.blogspot.com/2009/10/salsa-aerobics-salalah.html
Definitely check it out. Her description of these hidden havens of shaking hips and sweaty yoga mats will brighten your day:)
By the way, Nadia, know of any of these clubs in Rustaq? All I can find are the men's "health clubs", which definitely don't involve yoga ;)
http://dhofarigucci.blogspot.com/2009/10/salsa-aerobics-salalah.html
Definitely check it out. Her description of these hidden havens of shaking hips and sweaty yoga mats will brighten your day:)
By the way, Nadia, know of any of these clubs in Rustaq? All I can find are the men's "health clubs", which definitely don't involve yoga ;)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Mouths Wide Oman
Seriously everyone, what's up with the staring? I have always noticed, but this year it seems worse. Maybe I've just gotten more sensitive (a definite possibility....).
Some say it's because I'm a woman.
Some say it's because I'm a foreigner.
I'm sure these are elements to the cause of the gaping, slobbering, vacant stares I've been getting. However, I don't buy it. Why not? As being a westerner in possession of a vagina seems enough reason....right? I said in my last post that I will never understand their perception of me. And that's true. I think, increasingly so, that is crucial to look at the rational and experience of the other side. But, what if there doesn't appear to be any brain wave activity on the other side?
In any case, I don't think being a foreign chick is the reason for these particular stares because it's not just me, and it's not just men staring at me in this way. Women stare at me. And they stare at each other. And the men stare at other Omani men.
Now, let me explain. This is a very distinct stare that I'm talking about here. This not the stop and point, giggling and talking all the while stare. While more active, this type of normal staring seems somehow healthy and is less perturbing. I'm talking about the stare of a cow shot by a stun gun. Eyes wide, mouth wide, and sometimes there is drool. Occasional minor retinal movement, but usually it is dead pan and missing any sort of intellectual activity. Not even negative judgment. Just nothing. It's sort of scary.
My husband describes it as saying it looks like their brains are disintegrating and any minute are going to start dripping out of their mouths. Couldn't be more accurate.
Now this is not everyone, of course. It is not even the slight majority. But it is nevertheless disturbingly frequent.
In Muscat it's rare, but the farther into the mountains you go, the worse it gets. Perhaps the most terrifying density of such starers was in a eastern fishing town called Khaloof. All I can say is run away. You might get nightmares.
Some say it's because I'm a woman.
Some say it's because I'm a foreigner.
I'm sure these are elements to the cause of the gaping, slobbering, vacant stares I've been getting. However, I don't buy it. Why not? As being a westerner in possession of a vagina seems enough reason....right? I said in my last post that I will never understand their perception of me. And that's true. I think, increasingly so, that is crucial to look at the rational and experience of the other side. But, what if there doesn't appear to be any brain wave activity on the other side?
In any case, I don't think being a foreign chick is the reason for these particular stares because it's not just me, and it's not just men staring at me in this way. Women stare at me. And they stare at each other. And the men stare at other Omani men.
Now, let me explain. This is a very distinct stare that I'm talking about here. This not the stop and point, giggling and talking all the while stare. While more active, this type of normal staring seems somehow healthy and is less perturbing. I'm talking about the stare of a cow shot by a stun gun. Eyes wide, mouth wide, and sometimes there is drool. Occasional minor retinal movement, but usually it is dead pan and missing any sort of intellectual activity. Not even negative judgment. Just nothing. It's sort of scary.
My husband describes it as saying it looks like their brains are disintegrating and any minute are going to start dripping out of their mouths. Couldn't be more accurate.
Now this is not everyone, of course. It is not even the slight majority. But it is nevertheless disturbingly frequent.
In Muscat it's rare, but the farther into the mountains you go, the worse it gets. Perhaps the most terrifying density of such starers was in a eastern fishing town called Khaloof. All I can say is run away. You might get nightmares.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Them....or is it Me?
The children have not come back, alhamdulilah, but I'm not letting down my guard yet. Of course the music player hasn't come back either though... I thought about going to the police, but I'm just too tired of all this, and God knows if they would be helpful anyways.
Most of the kids still howl and make bizarre noises at us when we walk or bike by, but I don't even really know what to think. I have to come to terms with the fact that I just can't understand their experience of me. I just don't know what it's like to encounter someone so radically strange (after many years of nothing but the same skin, same clothes, same prayers, same language, same habits, same schedule). We must seem like utter freaks to them.
Just today as my husband and I were biking around the streets to go off road, he commented "Hey, you know, just doing this right now would blow most peoples' minds." And he's right. Just taking a stroll or biking through our area would be a culturally overwhelming educational experience. But to us now it's just home.
But not. You know?
It's a fine line between being part of the area and remaining a freak on the edge.
I guess we're both.
Most of the kids still howl and make bizarre noises at us when we walk or bike by, but I don't even really know what to think. I have to come to terms with the fact that I just can't understand their experience of me. I just don't know what it's like to encounter someone so radically strange (after many years of nothing but the same skin, same clothes, same prayers, same language, same habits, same schedule). We must seem like utter freaks to them.
Just today as my husband and I were biking around the streets to go off road, he commented "Hey, you know, just doing this right now would blow most peoples' minds." And he's right. Just taking a stroll or biking through our area would be a culturally overwhelming educational experience. But to us now it's just home.
But not. You know?
It's a fine line between being part of the area and remaining a freak on the edge.
I guess we're both.
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