Hi everyone,
You may have seen Oman in the news, with insinuations that it's going to be the next Libya. That's not the case. While we don't know what the next few days will bring, we are doing fine and adapting to changing circumstances as we need to.
No one had heard of Oman before this week (a slight exaggeration), so please take everything you read with a grain of salt. No news story will capture the picture fully and/or accurately.
We're fine, and I'll keep everyone posted.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Sharqiyyah Part II: Wadi Shab Photos
Sharqiyyah Part II: Wadi Shab
A wadi is a sort of valley with pools of water running throughout it. Some are very river-like, but Wadi Shab was fairly broken up into pools separated by a few steps of rock. The group hiked about an hour until we were fairly close to the end of the valley. The climb was steep, difficult, and beautiful. A wrong step at almost any time would have resulted in a pretty serious fall, so everyone was watching out for each other, helping people get up/off rocks, etc. It was an exhausting hike, and we were all ready for a swim by the end (especially in the 75-80 degree weather).
Once we finally stopped and decided to swim, we went deeper and deeper into the canyon until we reached what seemed like a rock wall. It was actually where two giant rocks came as close to touching as possible without actually touching. We had been told you could get through and that there was a waterfall on the other side you could climb up and jump off, but you just had to get through, first. Single file, we slowly swam between the cliffs, and if I had a really fat head, I couldn’t have done it – it was that narrow. Even though I knew we could get through, I definitely got a bit antsy/claustrophobic (especially since I was the first one through).
Once we all got in, though, it was amazing – a small hidden cave, maybe 30-50 feet across with a waterfall coming down on one side. It was virtually a private room that could only be accessed by swimming through the cliffs and even though sunlight poured in, it was most likely invisible from all other angles. Lucky for those of us that made it through (it was not the whole group), somebody brought their waterproof camera, and we have some pictures that do some justice to the place. Without her camera, there would be no proof that people can swan-dive off a waterfall without selling Old Spice Body Wash. (Pictures soon!)
I’ve never swam in water like that of the wadi. It was completely still (no current or waves); crystal clear or a beautiful blue; and had an almost schizophrenic way of changing depths – one step you’re up to your knees, the next to your ankles, the third to your neck. And though the water was as still and warm as a bath, one had to be able to swim to go where we did. The 50-60 yards (approx) before reaching the passage through the cliffs were opaque and deep, as was the passage itself, and inside the cave. It was an extremely easy swim, however, because of the lack of currents/waves.
The hike back didn’t seem to take as long, since we knew what we were doing, but it was a bit harder than on the way in. (What’s that they say about running only half the distance you think you really can because you have to run back?) My wet-feet/lack-of-socks combo didn’t help anything, either.
All is well, though! I spent the weekend camping in the mountains with a cousin and some other family members, which was unlike any camping experience I’ve ever had, aside from tents and campfire. A very wonderful time with equally wonderful people, though. Sadly, my sunburn-free experience is over. I officially went 29 days in the Middle East without getting sunburn, which may be an Irishmen’s record. The mountains of Jebel Akhdar had other plans, though.
We’ve got our Arabic midterm this week, then we’re off to the interior, Nizwa, for 5 days, living with students at the University of Nizwa. My friend and I went with our Arabic professor to get fitted for our own custom dishdashas and koumbas, because the interior of the country is more conservative than Muscat. (Our professor went to the University of Nizwa and said we’d fit in better there if we were wearing them.)
Pictures on the way!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Sharqiyyah Part I: Desert Photos
Sharqiyyah Part I: In the Desert
We went on our first excursion this past weekend (weekends here are Thursday-Friday) to Sharqiyyah, in the eastern region of Oman. We spent our first night in a touristy Bedouin-run desert camp. Though virtually everything was sand, the scenery was unbelievable. Giant dunes surrounded the camp, and we spent the afternoon “dune-bashing” in 4X4’s with drivers so familiar with everything it was like they were driving to the grocery store. They were almost eerily nonchalant about the whole thing. Those of us in the back, though, had a much more exciting experience (to say the least). They dropped us off on a massive dune behind the camp and we spent the rest of the afternoon messing around – walking, taking pictures, sweating, etc., and left after watching a beautiful desert sunset.
After a traditional Omani meal of rice, meat, fish, hummus, cucumber salad, etc. (eaten with our right hands, of course) a group of Bedouin musicians began playing in the main tent. We sat around on big cushions and rugs listening to the music, drinking tea and coffee, eating dates, and enjoying life.
The next morning I tried sandboarding (riding a snowboard down a dune), which, in my mind, turned out to be a mistake. (Everyone else thought it was an excellent choice and loved the humor I unintentionally provided.) The climb up the dune was exhausting – hot sun, slippery sand, and carrying a snowboard. We had to sit and catch our breath at the top for a good 5-10 minutes before trying to go down. Then the real fun started. I lasted probably a good 5 seconds before I stumbled off the board with so much momentum behind me that I could not stop sprinting down the dune. Running faster than I ever have before, I (incorrectly) thought I could make it to the bottom. I wasn’t so lucky, as I bit the sand hard, at a full sprint, and was covered head to toe in sand and rattled for a good hour. Don’t worry, though, after a sponge bath, some ibuprofen, and a nap I was fine. (The whole ordeal was captured in pictures, so there’s a fantastic action-shot of me face-planting and lying on the ground.)
Almost right after my wipeout, we began the drive to the other desert camp, called Ras Al Jinz. It was very different. Very desolate – no dunes or anything, just sort of rough country. We went to a beach about 15 minutes away on the Indian Ocean and spent the day swimming, hanging out, and playing football. More of the same followed once we got back – big cushions, coffee, tea, dates, and conversation.
The night was short, however, as we were up at 4:00AM to go to the Ras Al Jinz green sea turtle reserve to see turtles on the beach making their nests and going back into the ocean. Since we were going to be up at 3:45-4:00, a few of us decided to stay out under the stars/full moon all night. We ended up getting maybe an hour or two of sleep, but the wind really picked up and we were all freezing. The turtle reserve was cold, too. Tours at the turtle reserve are either at midnight or 4:00AM, because that’s when the turtles are out. They make nests and lay about 100 eggs before burying/disguising it and going back to the sea. It’s an all-night job, and the reserve is very strict about when people can be on the beach, how close, when you can take pictures, etc. to preserve things as best they can. They do a very good job.
Since it’s winter we only saw 3 turtles, but in July (at peak turtle season) you can have more than 100 on any given night doing their thing on the beach. Quite a sight, I’m sure. There’s 7 kinds of sea turtles in the world, and 5 can be found in Oman. This particular reserve is really increasing the green sea turtle population, and it’s one of the largest turtle-protected areas in the world.
The next morning we killed some time in Sur, a beautiful city on the Indian Ocean and wandered through a Dhow (traditional Omani maritime trading boats) yard. Since it’s not really used anymore, the yard serves more as an unofficial museum.
After some time in Sur, we headed off to Wadi Shab, an amazing place that will get its own post and photos soon.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Pictures Round Four
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
School
Streets of Muscat
Monday, February 7, 2011
A Drive Through Muscat
Muscat is a long city that runs along the coast. It does not go very far in, so the commute between neighborhoods (how the city is divided) takes much longer and feels much farther than it actually is. Because of its layout, having a car is almost a requirement to live/work here, which is really too bad because traffic accidents are Oman’s biggest problem. It has even gone to the UN looking for ways to bring down the number of accidents. From my observations, lanes, speed limits, right of ways, and all things written on signs serve more as “guidelines” rather than law. Drifting in and out of traffic at 110km and getting literally INCHES from the bumper in front of you is the norm. Driving on the shoulder (or even off-roading in an SUV to get around a traffic jam), pulling out of driveways or roundabouts without really looking, loud music and/or cell phones, and no seatbelt are all things I’ve seen in my week and a half here. I’ve also heard it’s common for drivers to flash their lights in your eyes after they’re basically in your trunk. All of this is done at very high speed, of course. Pedestrians do not have the right of way, and when 2 cars come to a stop sign at the same time, whoever feels boldest goes first. Your head has to be on a swivel when you cross the street. It’s not “look left, right, and left again.” It’s “look left, right, left, right, run looking left, run looking right and jump onto the sidewalk.”
But get this: behaving rudely is actually illegal, and Omanis take their Defamation Law very seriously. Someone could go to jail for swearing at someone or flipping the bird, etc. (One time, a girl on our program had to be flown out of the country in less than 24 hours because a police report was filed against her when she cursed out a driver who almost hit her and kicked her car tire. $15,000 in legal fees later, I guess everything turned out okay.)
Going from Mutrah in the south (where we started out) to our school (in the north) was an easy 45 minute ride during the lunch hour with a not-so-pleasant cabdriver (who somehow figured out we weren’t from around here). Cabs in Oman do not have meters; a price is negotiated BEFORE you get in the car, based on where you are and where you want to go. No one here would deny that wide-eyed college kids in Oman get the short end of the stick in all things negotiated, but overall I’d say we’ve done a pretty good job avoiding major rip-offs. Right before our 45 minute cab ride I talked to an employee at a museum who had driven a cab before, and he said for the distance we were going we shouldn’t pay more than 7OR (Omani Rials; a little less than $20). Initially our driver said 15OR, but we were able to get it down to 10, knowing that we were still getting ripped off. As our Arabic, haggling skills, and understanding of Muscat improve this will happen less and less.
Last weekend my brothers’ cousin drove us around Muscat, and I was able to see all kinds of new things: Goats blocking the road in the north, Indians playing cricket on the beach, two Brits trying (and failing) to kite surf while Omani children laughed at them, and a few souks I need to wander through. It was a fun time and gave me a chance to practice my Arabic with my cousin, who speaks more English than my brothers.
All is well here in Oman. I was able to celebrate a Packers’ victory over breakfast (raise your coffee cups), but since nobody here really cares about American football, it was a limited celebration.
Pictures to follow!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Pictures Round Three
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Pictures Round Two
Homestay
We moved in with our host families yesterday, and I've used more Arabic in the last 18 hours than I have the entire time I've been learning it. I have 4 younger brothers - they are 17, 16, 15, and 12 years old. All their names start with "M" (as does my host father's), so mastering their names has been hard. They don't speak much English, but it's amazing how much we've been able to communicate with my limited Arabic and their limited English. At first I called them "M-1" for the oldest, "M-2" for the 2nd oldest, and so on. I've got it down now for the most part, and I've learned a ton from them already. I also have 2 younger sisters, which I haven't met yet, but I know they are 6 and 2. I share a nice room with the 2 oldest boys. Everyone is fantastic, hospitable, and extremely nice.
Within 10 minutes of arriving I was playing football (soccer) with the neighborhood kids in a construction site, getting beaten every time by people nearly half my age. Their footwork was unbelievable, and judging by my bloodied and blistered feet, my sandals were not the best footwear. When we came back there was a new pair of the shoes the kids wear waiting in my room. They fit perfectly. So far everything is great. Challenging, but great.
The weekend here is Thursday and Friday, so I got picked up at its start. Orientation is over, and classes start on Saturday. As if we haven't dived into Oman enough, now it's time to really get started!
Within 10 minutes of arriving I was playing football (soccer) with the neighborhood kids in a construction site, getting beaten every time by people nearly half my age. Their footwork was unbelievable, and judging by my bloodied and blistered feet, my sandals were not the best footwear. When we came back there was a new pair of the shoes the kids wear waiting in my room. They fit perfectly. So far everything is great. Challenging, but great.
The weekend here is Thursday and Friday, so I got picked up at its start. Orientation is over, and classes start on Saturday. As if we haven't dived into Oman enough, now it's time to really get started!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Pictures Round One
Another view of Mutrah.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)