Yesterday one of the Indian laundry guys nervously opened the door to the QC office, looked around, and then started to close it when I said "hi?" to see what he wanted. "Ravi?" he said and stammered something I didn't understand. I said "Oh Ravi just left, umm i think he should be back in a few ..." and then realized the guy didn't understand what I was saying. So I just said "Ravi" and nodded my head in a positive way and motioned to the guy to sit down and wait. He stood there and waited a few minutes for Ravi to come back and after an akward pause I went back to doing whatever I was doing on the computer.
It turns out Ravi was typing a short letter for him in english to send to his bosses in Muscat to ask for a raise. His total salary is 52 OR ($140) a month and he says hasn't gotten a raise since 2001. He's goes home to see his family for one month and comes back for another 12-15 months of working 16 hour days in a country where he endures racism and 130F heat.
And he probably has kids my age. It makes me feel dirty. Never never never should I complain about my job!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sheesha with Palestinians
Last night I stayed out till 1:30am with two Palestinians. We smoked sheesha and ate filafel while discussing religion and conflicts between Islam and the West. Groovy, no?
It was a hot and humid night as is every summer night in Muscat. We ate outside at a dimly lit coffee shop. We sat crosslegged on long wooden benches with cushions. The shop was mostly patronized by Omani men in robes and hats, with your occasional indian or oriental lady thrown in. There were fans spraying out mists of water to cool people off. I had a dinner of filafel pita sandwiches, extremely salty pickles, and tea with fresh mint. I very much appreciated this after 20 hours of airplanes. Afterwards we shared a water pipe of apple sheesha tobacco.
I was with Abdul my Palistinian/Jordanian friend and unofficial Arabic teacher, and Mashdi his Palistinian/Kuwaiti friend of 10 years who lives in Muscat. Mashdi grew up in Kuwait. His father was smuggled into Kuwait from the West Bank when he was 16. This was in 1956 and Kuwait was a crazy place. There weren't many roads and no one was allowed in after dark or they'd be shot. I wondered what conflict inspired all this security, and it turns out they were protecting themselves from Bedouin raids, as that was common place back then!
I'm not sure what led to it, but Abdul asked me if I believe in God. Usually I dodge the question, but this time I didn't. I said "no, not really". They were worried about this. They encouraged me to go to church on Sundays. They didn't care if I was Muslim, Christian or Jew, but they wanted me to have some monotheistic religion in my life. Mashdi encouraged me to read the Koran "as if it were an Agatha Christy novel". They both started telling me stories from the Bible/Koran/Torah. It was funny to hear them with the Arabic names, Yakhuub instead of Jacob.
I asked Mashdi just what it is that Islam brings to his life. He said morals. Because of the Koran he would never think of stealing or cheating on his wife. I was surprised he didn't say anything about companionship with Allah, or the afterlife. Those are the things I'd expect to hear from a devout Christian in the US.
I tried to explain that I am not morally bankrupt even though I don't have religion and the West is not morally bankrupt because it doesn't have religion. And actually the west does have religion, around 60% of the people in America go to church regularly (so says the NYT). I said you shouldn't judge the people in America by rap videos and movies, it's misleading.
Mashdi told me that Islam teaches peace and mercy and respect for women. He said Muslims do not support Osama bin Ladin. He doesn't like the picture that gets painted of Muslims in the news, its not fair that Americans think Muslims are all terrorists.
I told them how sad I'd be to never play sports or go running or go swimming. Mashdi insisted such things are fine for women to do in Islam. The Prophet Mohammed's and his wife used to run footraces. But I never see women do these thing in Oman, they wear too much clothing and don't like to go outside.
When Mashdi dropped me and Abdul at the office, him and Abdul said bye the way Arabic men say goodbye. They kissed eachother's cheeks and noses several times. Abdul looked at me and laughed and said "in America you think this for gays". I laughed and said, "yes it would be a little strange to see in the US".
We didn't come to any big conclusions that night, and it wasn't the most original conversation but it was fun. Fun to be with people eager to have discussions that go on till the restaurant closes, and fun to play my small part in much bigger world issues.
It was a hot and humid night as is every summer night in Muscat. We ate outside at a dimly lit coffee shop. We sat crosslegged on long wooden benches with cushions. The shop was mostly patronized by Omani men in robes and hats, with your occasional indian or oriental lady thrown in. There were fans spraying out mists of water to cool people off. I had a dinner of filafel pita sandwiches, extremely salty pickles, and tea with fresh mint. I very much appreciated this after 20 hours of airplanes. Afterwards we shared a water pipe of apple sheesha tobacco.
I was with Abdul my Palistinian/Jordanian friend and unofficial Arabic teacher, and Mashdi his Palistinian/Kuwaiti friend of 10 years who lives in Muscat. Mashdi grew up in Kuwait. His father was smuggled into Kuwait from the West Bank when he was 16. This was in 1956 and Kuwait was a crazy place. There weren't many roads and no one was allowed in after dark or they'd be shot. I wondered what conflict inspired all this security, and it turns out they were protecting themselves from Bedouin raids, as that was common place back then!
I'm not sure what led to it, but Abdul asked me if I believe in God. Usually I dodge the question, but this time I didn't. I said "no, not really". They were worried about this. They encouraged me to go to church on Sundays. They didn't care if I was Muslim, Christian or Jew, but they wanted me to have some monotheistic religion in my life. Mashdi encouraged me to read the Koran "as if it were an Agatha Christy novel". They both started telling me stories from the Bible/Koran/Torah. It was funny to hear them with the Arabic names, Yakhuub instead of Jacob.
I asked Mashdi just what it is that Islam brings to his life. He said morals. Because of the Koran he would never think of stealing or cheating on his wife. I was surprised he didn't say anything about companionship with Allah, or the afterlife. Those are the things I'd expect to hear from a devout Christian in the US.
I tried to explain that I am not morally bankrupt even though I don't have religion and the West is not morally bankrupt because it doesn't have religion. And actually the west does have religion, around 60% of the people in America go to church regularly (so says the NYT). I said you shouldn't judge the people in America by rap videos and movies, it's misleading.
Mashdi told me that Islam teaches peace and mercy and respect for women. He said Muslims do not support Osama bin Ladin. He doesn't like the picture that gets painted of Muslims in the news, its not fair that Americans think Muslims are all terrorists.
I told them how sad I'd be to never play sports or go running or go swimming. Mashdi insisted such things are fine for women to do in Islam. The Prophet Mohammed's and his wife used to run footraces. But I never see women do these thing in Oman, they wear too much clothing and don't like to go outside.
When Mashdi dropped me and Abdul at the office, him and Abdul said bye the way Arabic men say goodbye. They kissed eachother's cheeks and noses several times. Abdul looked at me and laughed and said "in America you think this for gays". I laughed and said, "yes it would be a little strange to see in the US".
We didn't come to any big conclusions that night, and it wasn't the most original conversation but it was fun. Fun to be with people eager to have discussions that go on till the restaurant closes, and fun to play my small part in much bigger world issues.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sitting in the Heathrow Airport for Five Hours Hooray
Another hitch down and I'm on my way to Philadelphia. When I see it halfway down the list of Terminal 4 departures and think that I'm going there, I involuntarily smile. Philadephia has become an icon for me. When someone on the other side of the world asks me where I am from, I say Philadelphia. When people want to visit America, I recommend they go to Philadelphia. I make a point of having fanatical Philadelphia pride. I once lost a case of beer on a bet that Philadelphia was the birthplace of grunge music. I dont know much about grunge, but Philadelphia is the best city and all good things must come from it.
And on another note...
I had a special moment when I was leaving crew. I was driving in a dusty landcruiser truck with an Omani, a Southern Indian and a Bangladeshi. They all speak Arabic pretty well, but to be nice to me they put on the American radio station. What is an "American" radio station when you are in the desert, 400k from the capital city in Oman? It started with some gangsta rap, then transitioned into 80's movie soundtracks. Then the DJ, an older British guy with a gravely cockney accent, got on and announced the answers to a quiz about American Indians. This was followed up by a 70's folk tune.
All these pieces put together without a touch of irony let me know I'm very far away.
Looking out the window also let me know I'm very far away. A big flat empty brown landscape broken up by the occasional road crossing or oil pipeline.
And that was my moment.
And on another note...
I had a special moment when I was leaving crew. I was driving in a dusty landcruiser truck with an Omani, a Southern Indian and a Bangladeshi. They all speak Arabic pretty well, but to be nice to me they put on the American radio station. What is an "American" radio station when you are in the desert, 400k from the capital city in Oman? It started with some gangsta rap, then transitioned into 80's movie soundtracks. Then the DJ, an older British guy with a gravely cockney accent, got on and announced the answers to a quiz about American Indians. This was followed up by a 70's folk tune.
All these pieces put together without a touch of irony let me know I'm very far away.
Looking out the window also let me know I'm very far away. A big flat empty brown landscape broken up by the occasional road crossing or oil pipeline.
And that was my moment.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
A Cold Day in Arles, France
I should have realized bull fighting was going to be difficult for me to watch, but I didn't think about it until I got there. I wasn't even sure they were going to kill it, they don't usually in France. But then I saw blood streaming down from the several spear-ladden streamers it had been stabbed with. I cried watching the first bull go down. But I got desensitized watching the next four - kind of creepy how quickly that happens.
The bulls were so mad, fighting desperately, trying to get the spears unstuck from their back and trying to get the fuckers that put them there. It killed me that they kept going for the stupid red cape instead of the tiny man standing there fully exposed. This is a lesson in brains over brawn.
Watching something fighting with every ounce of its strength for its life and losing is intense.
At least it wasn't a gladiator fight. This arena is old enough that there have been gladiator fights in it.
The rest of the day was an attempt not to freeze to death. Yesterday I moved from my posh hotel to a youth hostel where they lock you out from 10am to 5pm. Today was a cold cold day.
I found temporary refuge in a basement-like internet cafe that turned out to be run and patronized almost exclusively by Arabs. I half-heartedly read the news and wrote some emails. I was more focused on listening to people speak and picking out what I could understand. The hourly price was worth it for the arabic and the shelter rather than the internet.
As I left the cafe I talked to the cashier and was instantly surrounded by 5 arabic-speaking men who were shocked to hear an American tourist speak arabic. This happens regularly. I think me being an attention whore is a significant part of my drive to learn Arabic.
An hour of walking around in the cold later I happened upon a PUBLIC LIBRARY!! This was a gift from god to a person who hadn't warmed up since sitting on a cold stone ledge watching a bullfight five hours earlier. Oh it was warm!! And had cozy couches!!! I can't tell you how fortunate I felt to be sitting there and reading a newspaper.
Now I'm here using internet at a crowded McDonalds on a rainy night. There is techno blairing just outside on the main street because of the torreador festival going on this weekend. I have one chicken nugget left.
I leave you for now..... Love, S E L A H
The bulls were so mad, fighting desperately, trying to get the spears unstuck from their back and trying to get the fuckers that put them there. It killed me that they kept going for the stupid red cape instead of the tiny man standing there fully exposed. This is a lesson in brains over brawn.
Watching something fighting with every ounce of its strength for its life and losing is intense.
At least it wasn't a gladiator fight. This arena is old enough that there have been gladiator fights in it.
The rest of the day was an attempt not to freeze to death. Yesterday I moved from my posh hotel to a youth hostel where they lock you out from 10am to 5pm. Today was a cold cold day.
I found temporary refuge in a basement-like internet cafe that turned out to be run and patronized almost exclusively by Arabs. I half-heartedly read the news and wrote some emails. I was more focused on listening to people speak and picking out what I could understand. The hourly price was worth it for the arabic and the shelter rather than the internet.
As I left the cafe I talked to the cashier and was instantly surrounded by 5 arabic-speaking men who were shocked to hear an American tourist speak arabic. This happens regularly. I think me being an attention whore is a significant part of my drive to learn Arabic.
An hour of walking around in the cold later I happened upon a PUBLIC LIBRARY!! This was a gift from god to a person who hadn't warmed up since sitting on a cold stone ledge watching a bullfight five hours earlier. Oh it was warm!! And had cozy couches!!! I can't tell you how fortunate I felt to be sitting there and reading a newspaper.
Now I'm here using internet at a crowded McDonalds on a rainy night. There is techno blairing just outside on the main street because of the torreador festival going on this weekend. I have one chicken nugget left.
I leave you for now..... Love, S E L A H
Monday, March 17, 2008
Paris and Massy
Well, I finally picked a place to go, and I'm on the train to there right now. Arles, near Marseille, in southern france. It's known for bull fighting, Roman ruins, and Van Gogh. He painted several of his famous paintings in Arles and then went crazy there too. More about Arles when I have actually spent some time there. For now I'll write a bit about my month in Paris.
So... Paris... it's pretty cool. It is all those things that Paris is supposed to be. Lots and lots of patisseries, and cafes with excellent bread, quiche, coffee and tarts. Miles and miles squared of beautiful old buildings with wrought iron balconies. Second hand bookshops and antiques. Lots of tourists. Lots of people in general. Beautiful city parks. Nice public transportation. I saw the big sights, the Notre Dame cathedral, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc du Triomphe, and lots of other stuff too.
Massy, the small town in the suburbs where we stayed, wasn't that bad either, despite the bad things I had heard about it from coworkers (boring and ugly). You didn't have to walk far to find cute neighborhoods with cute old stone houses. The yards had patches of pretty spring flowers, like violets and crocuses, interspersed with the grass. I found a big gypsy camp on the side of the highway. On the other side of the Massy train tracks we and Anna fond a nice patisserie, and an slightly shady, but delicious restaraunt/bar with an excellent chicken cous-cous dinner, an assortment arabic speakers, and no shortage of wine in carrafes.
Argh, I have several bits and pieces of stories and things I did that I'd love to share, its always a struggle to decide what to write...
Luxembourg Park in Paris is my favorite city park ever. It's very manecured, with lines of trees cut into perfect squares and such. But what I love is that there are there are people doing all sorts of things I love to do, all in one place. There are people playing tennis, a pavillion of people playing chess, some with spectators. People having tasty picnics of bread, wine, and cheese. Ducks, pidgeons, and sparrows begging for food. Pick up games of basketball. People sitting in the sun reading. People sipping coffees at outdoor cafes. If there was one drawback its that the park was crowded, but hey, the more people there to enjoy it, the better.
To finalize our last day in Paris, me and Anna decided to walk to the eiffel tower to see it lit up at night. It started raining about halfway, but what the heck, we were almost there. Except the eiffel tower is very big, which makes it look decievingly close. We got there eventually, and it was big and beautiful and lit up and worth it, despite the fact that we were wet and shivering. As we walked away they lit up flashing lights over the whole tower, so the whole thing from top to bottom was sparkling. It looked like a firework, and it was a wet night so it reflected of all the puddles and wet cars and windows as we walked away.
On another note, don't ever order Andoullette unless you are prepared. I'm pretty confident that I can eat anything, so, even though I was feeling queezy from too much wine the night before, I just picked something randomly off the french menu, "something something andoullette something". I ended up with one large sausage of smoked pig intenstines. Tripe tastes like horses smell. And horses smell like horse poop. I TRIED to eat it, believe me, but in the end the tripe won.
Alright, well that is enough for now. I'll have some new stores about Arles soon. And I'll probably post a big slew of pictures at the end of this trip when I'm in the airport waiting for my plane to Oman.
So... Paris... it's pretty cool. It is all those things that Paris is supposed to be. Lots and lots of patisseries, and cafes with excellent bread, quiche, coffee and tarts. Miles and miles squared of beautiful old buildings with wrought iron balconies. Second hand bookshops and antiques. Lots of tourists. Lots of people in general. Beautiful city parks. Nice public transportation. I saw the big sights, the Notre Dame cathedral, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc du Triomphe, and lots of other stuff too.
Massy, the small town in the suburbs where we stayed, wasn't that bad either, despite the bad things I had heard about it from coworkers (boring and ugly). You didn't have to walk far to find cute neighborhoods with cute old stone houses. The yards had patches of pretty spring flowers, like violets and crocuses, interspersed with the grass. I found a big gypsy camp on the side of the highway. On the other side of the Massy train tracks we and Anna fond a nice patisserie, and an slightly shady, but delicious restaraunt/bar with an excellent chicken cous-cous dinner, an assortment arabic speakers, and no shortage of wine in carrafes.
Argh, I have several bits and pieces of stories and things I did that I'd love to share, its always a struggle to decide what to write...
Luxembourg Park in Paris is my favorite city park ever. It's very manecured, with lines of trees cut into perfect squares and such. But what I love is that there are there are people doing all sorts of things I love to do, all in one place. There are people playing tennis, a pavillion of people playing chess, some with spectators. People having tasty picnics of bread, wine, and cheese. Ducks, pidgeons, and sparrows begging for food. Pick up games of basketball. People sitting in the sun reading. People sipping coffees at outdoor cafes. If there was one drawback its that the park was crowded, but hey, the more people there to enjoy it, the better.
To finalize our last day in Paris, me and Anna decided to walk to the eiffel tower to see it lit up at night. It started raining about halfway, but what the heck, we were almost there. Except the eiffel tower is very big, which makes it look decievingly close. We got there eventually, and it was big and beautiful and lit up and worth it, despite the fact that we were wet and shivering. As we walked away they lit up flashing lights over the whole tower, so the whole thing from top to bottom was sparkling. It looked like a firework, and it was a wet night so it reflected of all the puddles and wet cars and windows as we walked away.
On another note, don't ever order Andoullette unless you are prepared. I'm pretty confident that I can eat anything, so, even though I was feeling queezy from too much wine the night before, I just picked something randomly off the french menu, "something something andoullette something". I ended up with one large sausage of smoked pig intenstines. Tripe tastes like horses smell. And horses smell like horse poop. I TRIED to eat it, believe me, but in the end the tripe won.
Alright, well that is enough for now. I'll have some new stores about Arles soon. And I'll probably post a big slew of pictures at the end of this trip when I'm in the airport waiting for my plane to Oman.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Where Should I Go?
Sorry, this is pretty much shameless bragging, but here goes...
After I finish my month long course in Paris, I'm going to take another week in France for vacation, but I need help deciding where to go. I think I will head to the south of France. I like water, old stuff, mountains, and smaller towns. I've narrowed my destination to three places. 1) Frejus 2) Hyeres 3) Corsica.
Frejus and Hyeres are both towns of about 50,000 people on the Mediterranean coast in France. Frejus has some nice looking Roman ruins. Hyeres has a history from 300BC and is a bit less touristy than Frejus. Corsica is a french island just west of Italy. It would be a bit harder to get too, but sometimes remoteness makes a place interesting. And I enjoy ferry rides.
Well, if you have any input on this difficult decision, leave me a comment. Thanks :)
After I finish my month long course in Paris, I'm going to take another week in France for vacation, but I need help deciding where to go. I think I will head to the south of France. I like water, old stuff, mountains, and smaller towns. I've narrowed my destination to three places. 1) Frejus 2) Hyeres 3) Corsica.
Frejus and Hyeres are both towns of about 50,000 people on the Mediterranean coast in France. Frejus has some nice looking Roman ruins. Hyeres has a history from 300BC and is a bit less touristy than Frejus. Corsica is a french island just west of Italy. It would be a bit harder to get too, but sometimes remoteness makes a place interesting. And I enjoy ferry rides.
Well, if you have any input on this difficult decision, leave me a comment. Thanks :)
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