...is what it is doing right now. A few days ago we were sunbathing on a red sand beach in Greece. Quite a change. Flying to Istanbul tonight. I think its supposed to be raining there.
I'll write something more interesting later, but there is something special about writing a blog entry while I am actually in a location.
And I am indeed sitting on a couch in the lobby of a youth hostel just west of downtown Munich at this very second. I'm sitting in the lobby to use the wireless internet but its really cold because people keep coming in and out (and like I said, its snowing outside). Some Phil Collins song I've never heard before is on the radio.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
A Tribute to my Sheesha Friends
The second night I was on the crew I went to sit at the tables outside the kitchen and pet the kitten. I met a guy named Nizar. We had a nice chat and he invited me to go smoke sheesha (hookah tobacco), so I did, and I went back every night from then on.
While I was there, the core sheesha crowd consisted of myself, Abdullah from Jordan (his family is from Palestine), Nizar from Tunisia, Numan from Yemen/Ethiopia, and Hamed, the hookah master, from Ibri, a city in northern Oman. We sat in plastic chairs on the edge of the camp, smooking hookah and cigaretts, and drinking tea and chatting. When the coals started to die Hamed would spin them around real fast using a contraption made from a tin can, and a wire hangar.
A lot of our conversations revolved around teaching me new Arabic words. Every night I brought my trusty "waraqa", a beat up sheet of paper with many nights of arabic words scrawled all over it.
We had some other conversations too.
Abdullah used to drive trucks from Amman to Baghdad during the Gulf war. Through some of the towns you had to drive very fast or else they'd hijack your vehicle and shoot you. His uncle got shot this way, and Abdullah had to carry his body back to Amman.
Newman immigrated to Yemen from ethiopia when he was 14, and then he returned to Ethiopia when he was 21. He described himself as "an animal let out of a cage". He partied like a mad man for about a month before he spent all his money and had to stop. In Ethiopia he met and fell in love with his wife. She insisted they move to Yemen where he couldn't party. That was 15 years ago, now they have five kids.
One night they told me all about how men sometimes marry four wives and have 20 some kids. But usually it ends up in trouble. Sometimes the wives will be jealous of eachother and fight, or sometimes they will be too good of friends and gang up against the husband! I think a lot of the point of this conversation was to see the shock on the American woman's face.
Abdullah's grandfather had a big farm in Palestine. He had four wives, and as a result Abdullah has 53 cousins.
I found out it is illegal to have any sort of beard in Tunisia.
In Yemen, if you are a young man over they age of 13, you are not cool unless you have your very own machine gun. Parents will save up for a long time to get one for their son for his birthday. It's a right of passage.
One night Abdullah asked me "Why do women from the US and Europe always want to have jobs?" and that made for a fun and interesting conversation.
Nizar asked me alot about the US one night. He had all these wonderful impressions of it. A place where there is lots of freedom and good jobs, easy to immigrate and fit in. Now don't worry, we also talked about some of the bad parts too, like our history with black people, and how difficult it is to get a good job without education. Nonetheless, it was nice to hear someone having good impressions of the US, and to appreciate some of those things I take for granted.
One night was a particularly busy one at "Mahaal" Neuman (Neuman's coffee shop). We decided then we should start our own United Nations. We had representation from the countries of France, Tunisia, Yemen, Oman, Ethiopia, Jordan, Egypt and the United States.
Working so far away from home, I tend to get very attached to people in short amounts of time. But you're always saying good-bye in this damn job. And there is always a good chance you'll never see the person you're saying goodbye to again. So, yes, I was very sad to say goodbye to my sheesha friends.
The night after I left the crew, I was sitting alone in my hotel room in Salalah, feeling kind of tired and lonely, and indulging in self pity when the phone rang. I heard a "Hi Saylii". "Helloooo??" I said slowly, stalling to give myself time to figure out who it was. It was Neuman. He said "Me and Nizar were just sitting here thinking its not the same without you." :)
While I was there, the core sheesha crowd consisted of myself, Abdullah from Jordan (his family is from Palestine), Nizar from Tunisia, Numan from Yemen/Ethiopia, and Hamed, the hookah master, from Ibri, a city in northern Oman. We sat in plastic chairs on the edge of the camp, smooking hookah and cigaretts, and drinking tea and chatting. When the coals started to die Hamed would spin them around real fast using a contraption made from a tin can, and a wire hangar.
A lot of our conversations revolved around teaching me new Arabic words. Every night I brought my trusty "waraqa", a beat up sheet of paper with many nights of arabic words scrawled all over it.
We had some other conversations too.
Abdullah used to drive trucks from Amman to Baghdad during the Gulf war. Through some of the towns you had to drive very fast or else they'd hijack your vehicle and shoot you. His uncle got shot this way, and Abdullah had to carry his body back to Amman.
Newman immigrated to Yemen from ethiopia when he was 14, and then he returned to Ethiopia when he was 21. He described himself as "an animal let out of a cage". He partied like a mad man for about a month before he spent all his money and had to stop. In Ethiopia he met and fell in love with his wife. She insisted they move to Yemen where he couldn't party. That was 15 years ago, now they have five kids.
One night they told me all about how men sometimes marry four wives and have 20 some kids. But usually it ends up in trouble. Sometimes the wives will be jealous of eachother and fight, or sometimes they will be too good of friends and gang up against the husband! I think a lot of the point of this conversation was to see the shock on the American woman's face.
Abdullah's grandfather had a big farm in Palestine. He had four wives, and as a result Abdullah has 53 cousins.
I found out it is illegal to have any sort of beard in Tunisia.
In Yemen, if you are a young man over they age of 13, you are not cool unless you have your very own machine gun. Parents will save up for a long time to get one for their son for his birthday. It's a right of passage.
One night Abdullah asked me "Why do women from the US and Europe always want to have jobs?" and that made for a fun and interesting conversation.
Nizar asked me alot about the US one night. He had all these wonderful impressions of it. A place where there is lots of freedom and good jobs, easy to immigrate and fit in. Now don't worry, we also talked about some of the bad parts too, like our history with black people, and how difficult it is to get a good job without education. Nonetheless, it was nice to hear someone having good impressions of the US, and to appreciate some of those things I take for granted.
One night was a particularly busy one at "Mahaal" Neuman (Neuman's coffee shop). We decided then we should start our own United Nations. We had representation from the countries of France, Tunisia, Yemen, Oman, Ethiopia, Jordan, Egypt and the United States.
Working so far away from home, I tend to get very attached to people in short amounts of time. But you're always saying good-bye in this damn job. And there is always a good chance you'll never see the person you're saying goodbye to again. So, yes, I was very sad to say goodbye to my sheesha friends.
The night after I left the crew, I was sitting alone in my hotel room in Salalah, feeling kind of tired and lonely, and indulging in self pity when the phone rang. I heard a "Hi Saylii". "Helloooo??" I said slowly, stalling to give myself time to figure out who it was. It was Neuman. He said "Me and Nizar were just sitting here thinking its not the same without you." :)
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A Couple Days in Salalah
My vacation has officially begun.
I spent the last two days in Salalah. I flew back to Muscat this afternoon and now I'm in my room sipping tea and eating Haluwa, a gelatanous Omani desert flavored with cardimum, orange zest, nuts and smoke.
This morning I woke up at 6am after sleeping for 14 hours. I spent the morning driving in the mountains surrounding Salalah. I drove up a steep mountain, and then down into the valley of Wadi Nahiz. I parked my car on the side of the road and hiked around for a bit. I found an abandoned shack, a herd of small friendly cows, and a bunches of beautiful flowers and birds. I emerged with my shirt covered in burrs.
There was a little farming town down in this valley. I think small farming towns look a lot alike the world over - I've seen similar looking towns in rural Texas.
As I went to drive back up the hill there was a small guy wearing an old shirt and a purple piece of cloth like a skirt. He was holding a plastic shopping bag and looking for a ride to the top of the hill, so I picked him up. I guess he was surprised to see a pale American woman in the car. He didn't speak any English, "mafi ingleezi", so I tried out a little Arabic. He said he spoke "al arabia, wa al bengali", and he himself was Bengali. He was younger than me and pretty shy, but we had a nice little conversation. "What is your name". "I work near Thumrait" and as thanks for the ride he gave me a nice looking squash from his bag.
I thought I should tell him I was flying on a plane today and I wouldn't know what to do with a squash, but that is a bit advanced for my Arabic skills. I was touched by the squash, and I really didn't want to be rude. So I wrapped it up in my Palisades High School sweatshirt, stuffed it in my backpack, and put that in my big dufflebag to take on the plane. It made it to Muscat intact, and tonight I will see if I can do something with it in the kitchen.
Yesterday I went hiking about 40km east of Salalah around 2500 year old ruins of an ancient shipping settlement. This place is a UNESCO world heritage site named Khor Rori. It was a ways down a bumpy dirt road on which I should not have been taking my rental car. The area was deserted except for two guys at an entrance gate. I think I woke them up. About 1km from the actual ruins was the most stunnely gorgeous beach I've ever seen. Cliffs on either side, soft white sand, turqoise water at just the perfect temperature. And completely deserted! Fucking increadable!!
Tomorrow off to Athens.
I spent the last two days in Salalah. I flew back to Muscat this afternoon and now I'm in my room sipping tea and eating Haluwa, a gelatanous Omani desert flavored with cardimum, orange zest, nuts and smoke.
This morning I woke up at 6am after sleeping for 14 hours. I spent the morning driving in the mountains surrounding Salalah. I drove up a steep mountain, and then down into the valley of Wadi Nahiz. I parked my car on the side of the road and hiked around for a bit. I found an abandoned shack, a herd of small friendly cows, and a bunches of beautiful flowers and birds. I emerged with my shirt covered in burrs.
There was a little farming town down in this valley. I think small farming towns look a lot alike the world over - I've seen similar looking towns in rural Texas.
As I went to drive back up the hill there was a small guy wearing an old shirt and a purple piece of cloth like a skirt. He was holding a plastic shopping bag and looking for a ride to the top of the hill, so I picked him up. I guess he was surprised to see a pale American woman in the car. He didn't speak any English, "mafi ingleezi", so I tried out a little Arabic. He said he spoke "al arabia, wa al bengali", and he himself was Bengali. He was younger than me and pretty shy, but we had a nice little conversation. "What is your name". "I work near Thumrait" and as thanks for the ride he gave me a nice looking squash from his bag.
I thought I should tell him I was flying on a plane today and I wouldn't know what to do with a squash, but that is a bit advanced for my Arabic skills. I was touched by the squash, and I really didn't want to be rude. So I wrapped it up in my Palisades High School sweatshirt, stuffed it in my backpack, and put that in my big dufflebag to take on the plane. It made it to Muscat intact, and tonight I will see if I can do something with it in the kitchen.Yesterday I went hiking about 40km east of Salalah around 2500 year old ruins of an ancient shipping settlement. This place is a UNESCO world heritage site named Khor Rori. It was a ways down a bumpy dirt road on which I should not have been taking my rental car. The area was deserted except for two guys at an entrance gate. I think I woke them up. About 1km from the actual ruins was the most stunnely gorgeous beach I've ever seen. Cliffs on either side, soft white sand, turqoise water at just the perfect temperature. And completely deserted! Fucking increadable!!
Tomorrow off to Athens.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Frusterated!!
UGGG... Funny how glowingly positive my first review of being at this camp was, cause right now I'm not happy. I'm supposed to be here learning to use the QC software in order to prepare for when my other crew switches to using this same software. I have a problem though. The QC in the office is a grouch. He told me point blank when I met him that he though it was stupid I was here, and I should do the formal training course instead of coming here. He's rude. He's busy. And I dont think he really likes speaking in English.
I managed to learn some basic things with the help of some other people and some user manuals. But for the past few days I've given up. I've just been wandering around camp feeling awkward and guilty for doing no work. And this makes me crazy!
I read Memoirs of a Geisha in the space of three days. I've been studying arabic and writing random perl scripts. It would be pretty nice if it weren't for the guilt.
Oh well, in four days I'll be on my way to meet Carolyn, Georgia and Randi at the Athens International Airport. We'll be traveling through Athens, Santorini, Munich, and Istanbul during the next few weeks. And that is awesome.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Moved to a Different Crew
A couple days ago I moved to a different crew in the south of Oman. It's the French side of our recently merged company. I'm here temporarily to learn how to use their software, because eventually our entire company will be using this software.
I'm now in a much prettier part of Oman than I was on the other crew. I'm near the town of Thumrait, close to the city of Salalah, and just north of Yemen. In this part of the country there is actually enough vegetation to raise cows!
I'm the first woman that has been on this crew. I got met at the Salalah airport with a bouquet of flowers! Not what you expect upon arrival to a petroleum exploration crew in the middle of nowhere. I was actually a little scared after that... what were they expecting me to be like? I don't want to be treated too different, I just want to fit in as much as possible. As it turns out, I've had no problems at all. The flowers are just a very nice, and very French, gesture :)
I enjoy the lifestyle here. The work days are less intense. People spend more time eating and chatting. People sit outside! There are also a few more "young and new out of college" type people... like me and that can be nice. I sit outside at night playing with the camp kitten or smoking apple sheesha and practicing Arabic with a group of Arabic guys. Its great!
I imagine the budget compares less favorably to the other crew, but never mind that.
The first night I was here sat outside with my new friend, the scrawny camp kitten. About 50m away a group of Pakistani guys crowded around a little television perched on a lawn chair outside of their tent. Behind them a group of Omani guys were playing soccer. They stay up all night when it's Ramadan.
Dang it I'm too lazy to upload pictures from my camera... I will eventually.
I'm now in a much prettier part of Oman than I was on the other crew. I'm near the town of Thumrait, close to the city of Salalah, and just north of Yemen. In this part of the country there is actually enough vegetation to raise cows!
I'm the first woman that has been on this crew. I got met at the Salalah airport with a bouquet of flowers! Not what you expect upon arrival to a petroleum exploration crew in the middle of nowhere. I was actually a little scared after that... what were they expecting me to be like? I don't want to be treated too different, I just want to fit in as much as possible. As it turns out, I've had no problems at all. The flowers are just a very nice, and very French, gesture :)
I enjoy the lifestyle here. The work days are less intense. People spend more time eating and chatting. People sit outside! There are also a few more "young and new out of college" type people... like me and that can be nice. I sit outside at night playing with the camp kitten or smoking apple sheesha and practicing Arabic with a group of Arabic guys. Its great!
I imagine the budget compares less favorably to the other crew, but never mind that.
The first night I was here sat outside with my new friend, the scrawny camp kitten. About 50m away a group of Pakistani guys crowded around a little television perched on a lawn chair outside of their tent. Behind them a group of Omani guys were playing soccer. They stay up all night when it's Ramadan.
Dang it I'm too lazy to upload pictures from my camera... I will eventually.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A Phone Call from the Boss
Not too long ago, somewhere in the UK, two Polish guys went to interview for a position in my company. The interviewer asked them, "Do you want to know a little more about what it is like to work on a seismic crew?", to which they replied, "We already know!. We saw this blog that described everything."A few mornings ago I get this surprise phone call from my boss in Muscat. What could he be calling about? He says "Hi Selah. ...[pause]... I'm calling about your blog," to which I reply "Oh shit!"
My blog passed through a few HR departments and a couple of my bosses. It wasn't a big deal in the end. I agreed to keep the company name off the blog. My friend and fellow employee made a good point. Forget worrying about being in trouble. I should demand a referral bonus for those two guys!
It's awfully cool that in some other part of the world, two guys somehow found my blog and read it to find out what working on a seismic crew was like. That is why the internet is great. I probably tricked them into thinking it was all kinds of fun too. Ha ha.
Well in case any of you are still reading: Hi polish guys. Hi bosses. Hi HR departments from around the world. Thanks for not insisting I shut my blog down. Ignore that part about "sometimes I have to force myself to be interested in geophysics". Thanks for reading (even if its just for your job). I hope you enjoyed it.
Hello, It's Been a While
Hello. Its been a while since I wrote anything. Life's been pretty routine here - doing the daily QC checks - writing out tapes for clients - browsing the internet - reading. I haven't made good on the promise to myself to study some geophysics. I've been pretty good about studying Arabic though.
Right now I'm getting the hang of plurals. They are too complicated! In Arabic, almost all nouns are irregular in the plural, like the English "people" vs "person". Also, you have to pluralize any adjectives that describe your plural noun. Many adjectives also have irregular plural forms. However, for a given adjective, you may use one of 3 of its plural forms depending on the type of noun it is describing. And there is a whole other set of rules for the plural when describing two things, rather than several things. And I suck at memorizing. Ahhh!
Last night we had a barbecue to celebrate our 2 millionth LTI-free man-hour. LTI stands for Lost Time Incident meaning a significant injury, or significant equipment damage that causes us to stop production. Our client uses this concept to monitor the safety of the many contractors they have working for them. To celebrate this achievement, a couple bosses came down from the Muscat office, along with a few client reps who are involved in our project. At the end of the day, the entire crew gathered together and there were some speeches in Arabic and English. The client presented our crew with a plaque and pictures were taken... and then we got to eat.
I met one of the client reps named Mohammed. He was born in Zanzibar (east Africa) in a place that used to be a colony of Oman back in the 1800's when Oman was a big sea-faring power. He moved to Muscat when he was 8, in 1970 the year Sultan Qaboos took power. Back then it took his family 15 hours to drive from Dubai to Muscat. Today it takes 2 hours.
We had a nice conversation. We started out talking about me learning Arabic. That is always a good ice breaker with Arabic speakers. Carlos joined in. He is our Venezuelan on-crew client representative, and he's also learning Arabic. Our conversation took a left turn to the topic of "opinions about IM and text messaging languages". Carlos absolutely hates when his daughters email him with misspellings and shortened words, like 'u' in place of 'you'. I disagree that this is a bad thing. With the aid of a beer I passionately argued that misspellings and slang and shortcuts are how a language develops. All that matters is you get your point across, and hell, the more creative the better. Mohammed stood the middle ground. He mentioned some speech by some German leader (not Hitler) who speculated that complications in the German language my be holding German universities back. Mohammed also admitted he was a fan of texticons :0 ;). It was a fun conversation. As I mentioned, I was sipping a beer during this whole bit. I don't think I could have taken myself so seriously otherwise...lol.
On another note, Ramadan starts in a few days. That might be interesting. No food, water or cigarettes from sunrise until sundown for any of the Muslims for an entire month. As a non-Muslim, my only obligation is not to take consumable things outside of the kitchen where they will torture the hungry people. I wonder if everyone will be horribly cranky for a month. That's what happens to me when I don't eat.
Once, when I was in college, I tried to fast before Thanksgiving. I decided I would not eat for the three days leading up to Thanksgiving. I only lasted a day and a half before I rushed home from choir practice to stuff my face with noodles and butter. Fasting is hard.
Well that is all for now... although I have a few more posts brewing. A "history of Oman" post, a "bragging about my upcoming leave" post, and a post about some of the many people from Kerala, India that come to work here. So stay tuned.
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