An 8 Hour Bus Ride

I wrote this a few days ago, but never posted it:

I just got to the crew yesterday after my two days of getting paid to sit in Muscat : ) Cause the dirt runway in Nimr is still wet, I ended up taking an 8 hour bus ride instead of the usual 1 hour flight.

I saw date farms. Rows and rows of big palm trees with what looks like giant bunches of yellow-brown grapes. There were this strange brightly colored fruits in a few of them, which I later realized were children. They had shimmied up to pick some dates. Their feet were up next to their hands. All I saw was a curved back dressed in a colorful shirt. Tucked in between the big palm leaves it looked just a fruit.

I discovered a new favorite food. Every 300m of road, throughout Oman, there are little coffee shops with the name "Golden ___ Coffee Shop". You may fill in the blank with a word such as sheep, spoon, castle, goat, camel, etc. They remind me of street vendors in Philly. They sell chicken sandwiches that are to die for. Curried roasted chicken, cucumber, fresh cabbage, sourcream, and hot sauce, all wrapped in a fresh chewy pita. They are small, I'd get 3 for lunch. The shops also always have a variety of smoothies. I get mango. They take the mangos right off the shelf and blend em up with ice and yogurt. Fresh as can be. Such a meal costs around 500 baisa (a buck twenty-five in US money).



At an omani truck stop. I peed in a bathroom that wins the title for "Most Disgusting Bathroom I've Ever Seen". The floor was covered in 1/2cm of brown liquid. The toilet was pit style, just a metal encassed hole in the ground. The wet floor made me fear that some people had missed. I squatted. Then I went to wash my hands. I turned the grimy handle, a cold trickle came out. As I rinsed my hands I realized the water was pouring directly through the drain to the floor.

Now I'm back at crew. I'm currently overwhelmed with work details that I forgot, but I'm sure it will come back in a few days. Its been raining so much over the past couple months that there are toads all over camp. I had a real nice first day of welcomes from everyone. I'm happy its my third shift and I'm not new anymore.

Muscat and Cyclone Gonu

I just returned to Oman after a wonderful 25 day vacation. (imagine a monday multiplied by 10)

I had the unique experience of seeing Muscat one week before Cyclone Gonu hit, and then again two weeks after it hit, as if I were set up to do a scientific before and after comparison.

Before the cyclone hit, I took four days of my vacation to explore Muscat. It was a good time. I went snorkeling. I swallowed a bit of sea water getting the hang of it, but once I got the hang of it, it was great. I saw a sea turtle and lots of pretty fish and lobsters and anemonies. Later, I walked along the beach and saw lots of critters: crabs and clams of varyious shapes and sizes. I braved Ruwi, an older, crowded shopping district where people haggle. I was the only person who was not a dark-skinned male. It felt like walking around in a clown suit.

Another day I tried to drive down the coast to a city named Sur. I only made it halfway. I ended up getting lost...or rather, I got lost many times, and around the 10th time I got lost, it was in this village with a mainstreet the size of a sidewalk. The street was lined with sofas, seated on which were white-bearded Omani grandfathers who were watching kids playing and goats roaming....and the strange foreigner in a rental car. I felt like an intruder driving through someone's living room. After driving through twice in search of the correct turnoff, I just couldn't bear driving through a third time, so I turned back. It was okay, my wanderlust had been well satisfied for the day.

When I came back from Muscat a few days ago, the first evidence of the cyclone I saw was was a Toyota dealership a quarter mile from the office. It was completely destroyed. It resembled a nasty highway pileup involving one thousand cars. Car after car was smashed into the car in front of it. In one place cars were piled three high from the water.



It was raining down south when I arrived in Oman, so the dirt airstrip I usually land on in Nimr was unusable. While waiting for it to dry, I got two (paid) days to explore post-cylone Muscat. Luckly that Toyota dealership close to my office was the worst damage I saw. If the whole city had been as damaged, there wouldn't be much of a city left. The beach, however, was also quite affected. It was 1/3 of its previous size. Parts were completely washed away, causing me to detour through empty city streets. I hardly recognized spots I'd been to before the cyclone. Occasionally, I'd see a storefront I recognized, but the beach itself was completely reshaped. I couldn't find my sandbar with all the hermit crabs : (

I hope the city recovers well. It's so nice to see a thriving friendly city in the Middle East. I've gotten attached to it.

And a side note: Oman makes me feel more bad about global warming. It's a country where they heat is at the limit of what is habitable. If it gets any hotter it will cook the Omanis. Also, since the interior is so desolate, all the life is on the coast, which is exposed to hurricanes and floods and the like. Suck.

an article about the cyclone from Gulf News

Alright, that's all for now.

Lizard Hunting

"If we ever colonize mars it will look a lot like this place". This is largly due to the rocks, which are a martian-like rusty red color. However, I discovered that these very same rocks, when you break them open, are a brilliant white on the inside. Strange.

I made this discovery yesterday when I went with my camera on a lizard hunting expedition. I found two different types of lizard. Both small. Very cute. Their technique for not being eaten by me was to stand very still so I couldn't see them. Despite their efforts I could see them. I didn't eat them, but I got some real good close ups from as near as 6 inches.



Unfortunately I didn't see any of the two foot long "thub" or "dabb" (two transliterations of the same arabic word) lizards that I've heard talked about. I posted some excellent pictures from yesterday of both the lizards and the rocks.

I think yesterday's photos were some of the best I've ever taken, so check them out.

Click Here for Photos

Jackass2 Inpired Reflections on Arabic Identity

Last night we watched the movie Jackass 2 in the bar skid. Perhaps you've seen it? If not, its made by a bunch of delinquents from West Chester, PA. They are drunk and high and they perform a variety of stunts that are stupid, painful and/or gross. And today they are millionairs.

I watched this with a bunch of the bar regulars. Keith the british Mechanic, Mark the British/Saudi Instrument Tech, Hamish a QC from New "Zed", Steve the Aussie Project Manager, and Aaron the ex-Utah Mormon Health and Safety guy. Mah'moud the Omani guy with camels I spoke of before was also in the bar that night.

We watched the scene where one of the guys dressed up (really convincingly) as an old man in running shorts who didn't realize his very saggy balls were hanging out the back. We watched the scene where two guys trap four of their friends in a car and then pour a hive of bees through the sunroof. Then we watched the scene where a couple guys pretend to be terrorists.

I started feeling bad when the "terrorist"'s white robe was an exact replica of Mah'moud's, and so was the head wrapping - the same red checkered pattern even. It got worse when the "terrorist" started saying stupid things in a goofy fake arabic accent, and then strapped a belt of fake bombs to his waist, and then asked his cab driver how big his wife's boobs were, etc...

The thing, is I know that image of an arabic terrorist. It comes from seeing Osama bin Laden on the news, angry Iraqis burning American flags, and guys here with long religious beards who because I'm female, won't aknowledge me or fix my air conditioner without being yelled at. It's frightening, its angering, and that's why it makes me laugh when all the seriousness has been taken away.

But last night, I imagined the very different image Mah'moud might have of an arabic man. That is the image of him, his friends, his brothers, his dad. I imagined nice gentle people who laugh a lot and love camels. Mah-moud's got a good deal of pride about his heritage. I've heard comments about how he really makes an effort to be a part of Bedouin life, which is tough when you're also employed by a multinational geophysical corporation.

It turns out he had seen the movie before, so I didn't have to feel that bad.

But the morals of the story are:
A) I still like Jackass, and I love that shit like Jackass exists in the US.
B) I am impressed by the new image of an Arabic man I have.

Camels: On Napkins and Taking Dust Baths

Last night I had a very good night at the bar.

I sampled some Omani tobacco from an Omani pipe. The pipe was very skinny and long, with only a tiny cup for the tobacco. The tobacco itself came out what looked looked like an eyedrop bottle, and it was strong. I got one hell of a buzz from just one puff. The guy who shared his tobacco is Mah-moud, and he's very Omani. He speaks broken english. He has traditional dress, a beard, and a turban....and...fifteen camels!! In fact, as his cellphone background, he has a picture of one of his baby camels that was born the day before yesterday. Although his home is 6 hours north of here, he has connections with the local Bedou and said he could get me a sample of camel milk. According to him, the milk is very "strong" for the first few days after the baby camel is born, but after that its good. Also, he taught me the words for camel and goat with the help of a bar napkin.

In other news, I saw a camel taking a dust bath yesterday! I didn't think there was anything a camel could do to resemble a chicken, but it seems I was wrong. Here's a blurb I wrote to Matt about it.

Imagine a huge animal with gangly legs. It never moves much, and when it does it is slow, deliberate, and almost dignified.

Now imagine this animal laying on the ground on its side, with all 4 of it's 6 foot by 3 inch legs jerking franticly in the air. Then imagine it's neck, which is as long as the rest of its entire body. Imagine that neck convulsing in seemingly independant motion of its body. Imagine dust flying everywhere.

And around it are five other camels, one sitting, four standing, three staring at me, one staring at a bush, another at the trashcan who's contents it just ate. None of them are moving, they almost look dignified, and they all seem completely oblivious to the 6th as it continues its epileptic fit on the ground.

A More Interpretive Take on this Job

READ IT HERE ---> Just Another Day In Quality Control

"The first thing I became aware of was the bleeping of my alarm. As I reached over to turn it off, my hand fumbled on the items scattered over the small desk, causing them to fall on the floor. The clattering gave me a false sense of urgency to turn off the alarm, that was when full conciseness kicked in and I realised where I was…Fuck, the world didn’t end last night."

"I felt like a prisoner waiting for the parol board to approve an early exit, only to be kept in jail by an eleventh hour decision. But there was no time to reflect on this defeat, we had to try something else, the data, and the hopes of nearly 250 men form 13 countries were at stake."

"I vaguely remembered the hang over I had this morning and the promise I had made myself, I opened the fridge and got a beer. As I finished it a second one appeared in front of me. I started to drink it an thought, you had to do something to forget."

This was written by my colleague Andrew to whom I also owe credit for the current title of this blog.

Thanks Andrew.

What I Get Paid to Do

I had a request from Matt to explain a little more about what I do for a job here...



My job title is QC Seismologist. I work in a camp of about 200 people in the middle of the desert. Our company specializes in seismic geophysics. We use sound waves and the concepts of physics to get information about subsurface geology.

Every day, the majority of the crew drives out from camp, into the field to aquire data. We have many-ton trucks called vibrators that make loud sounds at specified locations. Each time a vib "shoots" there are 2050 geophone stations planted in the ground up to 7km away that listen and record what they hear. We get more than 2000 shots a day. This is quite an operation, with over 150 people directly involved. There are laborers who lay down and pick up geophones, mechanics, drivers, coordinators, etc. At the end of the day the result of all this work is one 4" x 5" LTO tape.

The QC department consists of me and one other person. We are responsible for checking the data, reformatting it and presenting it to our clients, PDO (Petrolium Development Oman). Because there is so much data, and so much data about the data, this is a complicated process. We have an enormous library of scripts and procedures that have amassed and evolved over the years. When I mention "data coming in at night", or "doing the morning data checks", this is the data I'm talking about.

We process a separate batch of data each day that comes from our uphole crew. This crew is only 15 people and they are in a completely different location. They collect data using only one noise source, and one geophone which they lower into a 100m deep borehole. A day's data from this crew consists of 100 separate recordings, or "traces". A day's worth of data from our main crew will consist of over 4 million traces.

I also sometimes mention "preplanning" on chat. Our department helps the survey department plan out the coordinates of each and every shot and reciever as well as the order of the shots, and which recievers will listen to which shots. Preplanning of a site happens weeks or months before the actual shooting.

Most of the stuff I do here is very routine. It can be painfully tedious. The interesting part of my work is 1) trying to improve a process or 2) figuring out what happened when something goes wrong. That is what requires actual understanding the data and what we do to it.

I also spend a lot of time reading books and updating my online "facebook" profile and writing this blog. And making oragami elephants.

So that is my job. There are lots of computers. Lots of computer programs written and rewritten by a multitude of people who quit years before I started. Pages of coordinates and times and vibration specifications. Millions of traces. Gigabytes of data. Fun fun FUN.