We arrived safely a few days ago in Oman, exhausted and sick, but at least we have some down time before everything starts up again.
Everything is same old same old here, except maybe the internet is actually worse. Idle promises of 3G coverage were thrown around last year, getting our hopes up. No such luck. I've been trying to load this internet page for 2 days now, only now succeeding.
Our new place is all finished, except air conditioning units. Were anything else missing, we could move in, but although the heat is better, that's still not a possibility. We'll be moving in sometime this coming week. We hope. Ramadan starts on Saturday, which always throws a wrench in things. It will happen eventually.
I think it's finally sunk in. Nothing is going to work on my schedule here. You'd think I would have learned that by now, but my worker-bee mindset still kicks in. Maybe I've got it now. We arrived to find a little problem which helped drive this point home. Again.
At the end of last year, George and I bought a nice (faux, but IKEA) TempurPedic bed. We had arranged to store it over the summer in a vacant apartment below. It stayed there for the last month of last year, so we trusted all would be fine over the summer. We arrive back to find it gone. Our company's go-to man who we're close with had no idea where it was. The landlord of this building and of our new house had no idea where it was. Jetlagged and sick, I was livid. Finally word comes around that it was put in a store. Sold. That's it. I was really angry.
As usual, my anger was wasted emotional energy, as anger usually is. They said the store...they meant the storage. "Makhzin". Storage. That's my new word of the week. I should have seen that one coming.
Now the question is: would the anger still be wasted energy if they really had sold our bed??
Well, for now, we're hunkered down in our packed apartment, inching around boxes, but mostly staying in bed and watching movies, trying to shake this cold/flu before school may (or may not) start on Saturday.
Nobody knows really.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Changing Stereotypes
Who knows if this Iranian (Revolution?) is going to result in overturning Ahmedinejad's control and Khamenai's dictatorial position, but one thing we do know is the no one will be able to get away with talking about Iran in the same was that was deemed acceptable before.
The usual: Iranians hate freedom. Iranians love Ahmedinejad, who loves nuclear weapons. Iran is one big throbbing nation of evil out to get the West.
Because of the Iranians' reaction to this fraudulent and distinctly undemocratic election, they have taken a huge step in regaining an international reputation as being a people who desire justice, fairness, and amiable relations with the West.
Even if this fails to oust Ahmedinejad, it has already succeeded in robbing him of any remnants of respect and credibility that he might have had in his back pocket.
The usual: Iranians hate freedom. Iranians love Ahmedinejad, who loves nuclear weapons. Iran is one big throbbing nation of evil out to get the West.
Because of the Iranians' reaction to this fraudulent and distinctly undemocratic election, they have taken a huge step in regaining an international reputation as being a people who desire justice, fairness, and amiable relations with the West.
Even if this fails to oust Ahmedinejad, it has already succeeded in robbing him of any remnants of respect and credibility that he might have had in his back pocket.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Iran-what's going on?
I'm sitting here on my living room floor, remote in hand, flipping between CNN International, the BBC, Al-Jazeera and Grey's Anatomy--the last serving as fictional dramatic relief from the real-life trauma unfolding in Iran.
What is going on anyways?
And why is Christiane Amanpour in London and not Tehran?
CNN has, for lack of a better term, been sucking lately. BCC and Al-Jazeera are both quite a bit ahead of CNN in reporting breaking news, and actually have people on the ground reporting. CNN's on-the-ground team (sans Amanpour) are holed up in a hotel not reporting much of anything.
In any case, Iran's a mess. An inspiring and brave mess, but a mess nonetheless. Exactly 30 years after the 1979 Iranian Revolution, it's happening again. We think. Ayatollah Khamenai doesn't think so though, but I don't think he really knows what is going on. In his Friday sermon he claimed that it was over, that's it, Ahmedinejad is president, and y'all need to settle on down now. But that didn't seem to work.
Cries on the street have gone from calling for re-election to revolution. Opposition leader Mosavi has stated that he is prepared to be a martyr for the cause and is appearing in public to lead the now illegal protests.
This is big.
And two other points:
1. Why does a (very attractive) key human rights activist for Iran based in DC think she can appear on international television wearing a plunge-neck, sleeveless shirt? Does she realize that she just lost credibility with probably 75% of the people she is representing?
and
2. Why does the CNN London office have no one on hand fluent in Farsi? That scares me. Admitting live on TV that they can't translate the Twitter tweets they are receiving from Iran. C'mon. Not even 140 word-limited tweets?
What is going on anyways?
And why is Christiane Amanpour in London and not Tehran?
CNN has, for lack of a better term, been sucking lately. BCC and Al-Jazeera are both quite a bit ahead of CNN in reporting breaking news, and actually have people on the ground reporting. CNN's on-the-ground team (sans Amanpour) are holed up in a hotel not reporting much of anything.
In any case, Iran's a mess. An inspiring and brave mess, but a mess nonetheless. Exactly 30 years after the 1979 Iranian Revolution, it's happening again. We think. Ayatollah Khamenai doesn't think so though, but I don't think he really knows what is going on. In his Friday sermon he claimed that it was over, that's it, Ahmedinejad is president, and y'all need to settle on down now. But that didn't seem to work.
Cries on the street have gone from calling for re-election to revolution. Opposition leader Mosavi has stated that he is prepared to be a martyr for the cause and is appearing in public to lead the now illegal protests.
This is big.
And two other points:
1. Why does a (very attractive) key human rights activist for Iran based in DC think she can appear on international television wearing a plunge-neck, sleeveless shirt? Does she realize that she just lost credibility with probably 75% of the people she is representing?
and
2. Why does the CNN London office have no one on hand fluent in Farsi? That scares me. Admitting live on TV that they can't translate the Twitter tweets they are receiving from Iran. C'mon. Not even 140 word-limited tweets?
Friday, June 19, 2009
Being Annoying Around the World
Eleven days until we're out of here for a month and a half. I can't say it won't be a relief. Sometimes you just need to get out in order to appreciate something.
Wrapping up loose ends is taking up plenty of time...figuring out where to work next year, where to live next year, little things like that.
Really, it's not so bad. Nothing to really complain about. We're moving into a villa next year (i.e. house) rather than an apartment, we're debating job leads in Muscat. Odd to admit, however, that the boonies of Oman where we live do have a certain appeal that I don't want to give up for half-a-real-city life in Muscat. These are exciting prospects for next year. More space, more money, more freedom.
Nevertheless.
I'm excited beyond words to go to Paris and to see another culture. A whole nother world of social frustrations and cultural inadequacies to experience. It's too easy to start to pick on the culture that you are constantly immersed in...creating a false demon from the bludgeoning and buffeting that you undergo every day in a particular place (even if it's a particularly difficult place to live.)
It's strange to be not only excited to see the wonders and great new things of a society that you have never seen before, but also to be (perhaps almost equally) as excited to see the glitches and aggravating nuances of the society as well. Perhaps these are just the perverse mental musings of a traveler who has spent too long trying to work within an extremely difficult culture for the exacting and organized modern mind....Maybe some day I will have the pleasure of traveling without the sick desire to see how other cultures are annoying too.
Don't get me wrong though. I'm excited about the positive things too. I have been pouring over my new Lonely Planet France guide while I sip on my coffee every morning. Day dreaming about sitting in cafes and people watching. Picking out romantic places to stroll with my lover. Salivating at the thought of eating a 5 course rustic French dish washed down with too much vin rouge. Loosing hours on GoogleStreet virtually walking though the neighborhood around our apartment.
It will be great.
Still though. Still. It will make my heart warm to see the French being obnoxious in a totally different way from the Omanis (and from me!)
Wrapping up loose ends is taking up plenty of time...figuring out where to work next year, where to live next year, little things like that.
Really, it's not so bad. Nothing to really complain about. We're moving into a villa next year (i.e. house) rather than an apartment, we're debating job leads in Muscat. Odd to admit, however, that the boonies of Oman where we live do have a certain appeal that I don't want to give up for half-a-real-city life in Muscat. These are exciting prospects for next year. More space, more money, more freedom.
Nevertheless.
I'm excited beyond words to go to Paris and to see another culture. A whole nother world of social frustrations and cultural inadequacies to experience. It's too easy to start to pick on the culture that you are constantly immersed in...creating a false demon from the bludgeoning and buffeting that you undergo every day in a particular place (even if it's a particularly difficult place to live.)
It's strange to be not only excited to see the wonders and great new things of a society that you have never seen before, but also to be (perhaps almost equally) as excited to see the glitches and aggravating nuances of the society as well. Perhaps these are just the perverse mental musings of a traveler who has spent too long trying to work within an extremely difficult culture for the exacting and organized modern mind....Maybe some day I will have the pleasure of traveling without the sick desire to see how other cultures are annoying too.
Don't get me wrong though. I'm excited about the positive things too. I have been pouring over my new Lonely Planet France guide while I sip on my coffee every morning. Day dreaming about sitting in cafes and people watching. Picking out romantic places to stroll with my lover. Salivating at the thought of eating a 5 course rustic French dish washed down with too much vin rouge. Loosing hours on GoogleStreet virtually walking though the neighborhood around our apartment.
It will be great.
Still though. Still. It will make my heart warm to see the French being obnoxious in a totally different way from the Omanis (and from me!)
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Heat and Lies
Just for the record, the Gulf is much hotter than reported on CNN.
Yesterday I was watching the news, and the weather lady read a message she had received from a fellow Gulf viewer. I said "It is already so hot here and it's only early June! Can it really get much hotter??" She respond, blithely if I may say so myself, that he should pipe down because it's going to get much hotter. It's only 38 C, she said.
Ha.
It was 53 C in Muscat 2 days ago. That 127 F, people.
In Bahrain, it's actually a government policy that newspapers and journals are not allowed to report temperatures above 50 C, because at that temperature it is also a policy that laborers do not have to work. So, of course, it never gets that hot.
Don't worry, I'm not bitter though. I'm just a little toasty.
Yesterday I was watching the news, and the weather lady read a message she had received from a fellow Gulf viewer. I said "It is already so hot here and it's only early June! Can it really get much hotter??" She respond, blithely if I may say so myself, that he should pipe down because it's going to get much hotter. It's only 38 C, she said.
Ha.
It was 53 C in Muscat 2 days ago. That 127 F, people.
In Bahrain, it's actually a government policy that newspapers and journals are not allowed to report temperatures above 50 C, because at that temperature it is also a policy that laborers do not have to work. So, of course, it never gets that hot.
Don't worry, I'm not bitter though. I'm just a little toasty.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Snorkeling Adventures and DWS
It is already 120 farheheit here during the day. That means no more running, mountain bikes, or hiking that extends much past the wee hours of the morning.
But there is always the ocean. Oman has utterly stunning beaches and ocean waters. I have recently been initiated into the world water sports. Although I have yet to surf, I can now call myself a very amateur snorkeler and slightly better Deep Water Solo-er.
Snorkeling for those of you (like me) who have never spent much of any time around an ocean before is basically floating on top of the water with your head down, so that you can see clearly all the fish, eels and coral and other very strange and beautiful sea creatures.
Fully equipted with all my own mask and snorkel now, I can now stay face down in the water for a solid 15 minutes before freaking out about not being able to breath through my nose, or because of some terrifying yet known sea species, or even more so because of a very scary and very unknown sea species.
I never knew or appreciated what was under me when I was swimming. Although now that I know, I'm a little more wary about swimming. I have seen a shark, a massive sting ray (coming right at me!), a sea turtle, a bizarre pencil fish, and many other creatures that I can't identify. For a look at some of the fantastic sights, check out my friend's (and fellow snorkeler's) blog here. He has a video up of an average day under the water.
Deep Water Soloing is my other new past time in this grueling heat. The coastal waters of Oman are full of small, rocky islands. Some of them really beautiful, complete with secluded and pristine white beaches that look like they were made just for you.
DWS is rock climbing on the part of these island cliffs that are over hung over deep water (so that you can fall 20 meters and be fine!...that is, if the sea creatures don't get you). It's an intense experience and a whole new kind of climbing. You have to hop from a boat (ours being luckily driven by an incredibly good-looking Omani man) onto the rock. I'm not going to lie, it can be pretty scary dropping into the sometimes pretty serious ocean waves from 1, 5, 10, 20 meters. But the feeling of climbing free, with no ropes, is exhilarating. Total connection with nature and total reliance on the waters to protect you from falling. It was a new experience of trusting and really feeling one with nature.
I am proud to say that I made it to the top of a 20 meter climb, and not so proud to say that I screamed like a little girl jumping off. Despite the fact that I've gone sky diving, that jump in the ravenous and consuming ocean waves from so high made me more scared than I've been in a while. But again, as I said, it is a fantastic experience of letting nature take care of you. While the ocean (and what's inside it) can be rather intimidating, you are "caught" by it so to speak. No ropes, no parachutes, nothing but you and it. I'm bruised and scratched and really sore, but it was an unusually intense and awareness (of both nature and of yourself) building experience. It was great.
But there is always the ocean. Oman has utterly stunning beaches and ocean waters. I have recently been initiated into the world water sports. Although I have yet to surf, I can now call myself a very amateur snorkeler and slightly better Deep Water Solo-er.
Snorkeling for those of you (like me) who have never spent much of any time around an ocean before is basically floating on top of the water with your head down, so that you can see clearly all the fish, eels and coral and other very strange and beautiful sea creatures.
Fully equipted with all my own mask and snorkel now, I can now stay face down in the water for a solid 15 minutes before freaking out about not being able to breath through my nose, or because of some terrifying yet known sea species, or even more so because of a very scary and very unknown sea species.
I never knew or appreciated what was under me when I was swimming. Although now that I know, I'm a little more wary about swimming. I have seen a shark, a massive sting ray (coming right at me!), a sea turtle, a bizarre pencil fish, and many other creatures that I can't identify. For a look at some of the fantastic sights, check out my friend's (and fellow snorkeler's) blog here. He has a video up of an average day under the water.
Deep Water Soloing is my other new past time in this grueling heat. The coastal waters of Oman are full of small, rocky islands. Some of them really beautiful, complete with secluded and pristine white beaches that look like they were made just for you.
DWS is rock climbing on the part of these island cliffs that are over hung over deep water (so that you can fall 20 meters and be fine!...that is, if the sea creatures don't get you). It's an intense experience and a whole new kind of climbing. You have to hop from a boat (ours being luckily driven by an incredibly good-looking Omani man) onto the rock. I'm not going to lie, it can be pretty scary dropping into the sometimes pretty serious ocean waves from 1, 5, 10, 20 meters. But the feeling of climbing free, with no ropes, is exhilarating. Total connection with nature and total reliance on the waters to protect you from falling. It was a new experience of trusting and really feeling one with nature.
I am proud to say that I made it to the top of a 20 meter climb, and not so proud to say that I screamed like a little girl jumping off. Despite the fact that I've gone sky diving, that jump in the ravenous and consuming ocean waves from so high made me more scared than I've been in a while. But again, as I said, it is a fantastic experience of letting nature take care of you. While the ocean (and what's inside it) can be rather intimidating, you are "caught" by it so to speak. No ropes, no parachutes, nothing but you and it. I'm bruised and scratched and really sore, but it was an unusually intense and awareness (of both nature and of yourself) building experience. It was great.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Aboard the TEFL Ship
This is the last week of final exams. Everyone has been in an utter panic over exams, grading, absent students, and office relationships. I have stayed away, as I have learned to do throughout my year hear. At first I was a hopeful beginner—unable to grasp that being in a tizzy will affect nothing at all. No amount of fussing or yelling or arguing will get you anywhere here. All the hectic running about has led me to reflect on who we’ve actually got here in this esteemed bastion of academic excellence.
TEFL faculty are a crazy bunch, attracting the weirdest from across the globe. Terrifyingly Eccentric Forgotten Losers. It's a sorry sight most of the time. Nevertheless, much can be learned from them.
If I have learned anything so far here, it’s how to deal with irrational people and situations. There is very little room for logical argument and calm chronological thought. It’s something of a binding element, an emulsifier of sorts, for this heterogeneous and diverse group of people here at the college. It doesn’t matter who I’m talking to—my attitude is usually the same. It could be the Omani Islamic extremist with a long chin beard, the Alabama girl turned conservative Muslim, the schizophrenic British man who hides in the dark recesses of locked classrooms, the slimy former Bath Party informer who likes to chillingly flirt with me, the quirky Iraqi man who never has anything to say except that he was fine in Iraq and the Omani environment is killing him, or the rail-thin disease ridden British zombie who got deporting within a week (I actually didn’t talk to that one). Or last but not least the incomprehensible Irish woman, who doesn’t comb her hair, wears lipstick on her teeth and regularly gets irate with the very nice guards. Oh, or the “Parisian” woman who speaks to everyone in French, students and teachers alike, at staff meeting and while proctoring exams. I could go on, really, I could, for a long time. But now I will mention a few of the gems in the bunch.
And then there are the ones that, though thoroughly bizarre in their own right, I actually enjoy talking to. We have a flamboyantly gay Brit who we all lovingly call Papa Bear and who wears magenta corduroys to work, a deceptively sane and hard-working South African woman who wears a different ethnic costume everyday just to mix it up, a Southern gay guy who wears really pointy shoes and has a little crush on my husband, and the talkative young Omani man who is head of students affairs and the theatre director who gets harassed by the other Arab staff for fraternizing with the hell-bound westerners. He couldn’t care less.
I have grown here. If only in my ability to not laugh at inappropriate times, to not try to reason with the insane, and to calmly sit in my little bubble while the office goes to hell around me.
It’s an interesting world, friends. I do feel a little bit sorry for the lifers though, even if they did get themselves where they are.
TEFL faculty are a crazy bunch, attracting the weirdest from across the globe. Terrifyingly Eccentric Forgotten Losers. It's a sorry sight most of the time. Nevertheless, much can be learned from them.
If I have learned anything so far here, it’s how to deal with irrational people and situations. There is very little room for logical argument and calm chronological thought. It’s something of a binding element, an emulsifier of sorts, for this heterogeneous and diverse group of people here at the college. It doesn’t matter who I’m talking to—my attitude is usually the same. It could be the Omani Islamic extremist with a long chin beard, the Alabama girl turned conservative Muslim, the schizophrenic British man who hides in the dark recesses of locked classrooms, the slimy former Bath Party informer who likes to chillingly flirt with me, the quirky Iraqi man who never has anything to say except that he was fine in Iraq and the Omani environment is killing him, or the rail-thin disease ridden British zombie who got deporting within a week (I actually didn’t talk to that one). Or last but not least the incomprehensible Irish woman, who doesn’t comb her hair, wears lipstick on her teeth and regularly gets irate with the very nice guards. Oh, or the “Parisian” woman who speaks to everyone in French, students and teachers alike, at staff meeting and while proctoring exams. I could go on, really, I could, for a long time. But now I will mention a few of the gems in the bunch.
And then there are the ones that, though thoroughly bizarre in their own right, I actually enjoy talking to. We have a flamboyantly gay Brit who we all lovingly call Papa Bear and who wears magenta corduroys to work, a deceptively sane and hard-working South African woman who wears a different ethnic costume everyday just to mix it up, a Southern gay guy who wears really pointy shoes and has a little crush on my husband, and the talkative young Omani man who is head of students affairs and the theatre director who gets harassed by the other Arab staff for fraternizing with the hell-bound westerners. He couldn’t care less.
I have grown here. If only in my ability to not laugh at inappropriate times, to not try to reason with the insane, and to calmly sit in my little bubble while the office goes to hell around me.
It’s an interesting world, friends. I do feel a little bit sorry for the lifers though, even if they did get themselves where they are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)