Pics 2

Sunset at Sultan Qaboos University 

Having a full meal of fish from Musandam and Turkish bread at a shisha restaurant with some friends

The other side of the table

Hummer Trip

            This past weekend turned out to be one of my best weekends in Oman yet. I feel like I say this every week, but this time you’ll have to agree that going desert camping in the Wahhiba Sands with a group of seven Hummers may be one of the coolest things I’ve done in my life, period.

            Mohammed, a relative of my host family who I hadn’t even met before, contacted my family and asked if I was free this weekend and wanted to hang out with him. At the time, I didn’t know what exactly he and I were going to do, but when we came to pick me up Thursday morning with one of his buddies in his suped-up yellow Hummer, I knew this weekend would be memorable. We drove to the Muscat mall, where we met up with six other Hummers, and we then set out for the Wahhiba Desert, a three hour drive from Muscat.

            On our way, we stopped at the house of one of the guys Faleh, who hosted us, and we had a full meal of a freshly killed lamb and, of course, rice. This gave me the opportunity to meet the fourteen other guys who were with us on the trip, most of whom are in the oil business. After the traditional custom of Omani coffee and dates, we left Faleh’s house to watch the district horse race, something I had never seen before. Most of the Arab men there were wearing turbans and hanjars (the Omani knife), and the horses were decked out in Arabian-style jewelry. There were a lot of ritualistic dances and singing going on, and attending the race seemed to be the thing to do on a weekend in Oman’s interior. After watching part of the race and seeing the sun starting to set, we headed to the edge of the sand dunes. However, we waited for complete darkness before we set out in our Hummer caravan into the desert, an hour drive to a special place where these guys had camped before. Once we arrived, we set up camp, cooked meat, and two of the guys played the oud (a Middle Eastern instrument) and the drum. They then shared stories around the hookah pipe as it was being passed around.

            I was the first one to hit the sack at 2AM, sleeping in a tent under the stars and waking up to a rising sun at 6. All morning Friday we ventured out in the Hummers to explore the desert. We came across some camels belonging to some local Bedouin. Mohammed thought he knew how to make them kneel, so he kept on kicking the one camel in the shins. After about five kicks, Mr. Camel was not a happy camper and started to make himself a loogie. We ran away in time before things got too out of hand! After that, we did some dunebashing in the sand dunes. Every now and then, one of the Hummers would get stuck in the sand, and we’d all work to tow it out with another one of the vehicles. By early afternoon, we headed back to Muscat, taking our time and stopping at a few places on the way, getting back at about midnight.

            It was a long weekend, and people at the Center can testify I came into class the next morning looking pretty beat. But let me tell you, it was sure worth it!

Watching the horse race

Driving in the Wahhiba

Taking a turn in the back seat

Pics

Two weeks ago Brett, Aaron, and I went with our PF Ahmed to his house in Hamra and travelled to other nearby towns. Great language opportunity - we talked in Arabic the whole time - and also a great chance to get out of the American school environment and exploring Oman.

Ahmed's living room (mezhles) for some Omani coffee and dates

Spent the night in the mezhles

A farm near Ahmed's house with some scarecrows

Yours truly - at Behla Fort

It's farm time!

      Last weekend I had the unique experience of going with my family to their farm, about a half-hour drive away. I must say it doesn’t entirely match with the American concept of a farm. Two male Indians live there in this little shack full-time and run the farm, but the family only goes there every few weeks to visit. The farm consists of gardens, a decent-size field for football (soccer), date trees, cows, two bulls, and about fifteen goats. A couple months ago, in fact, the family held a bull fight there where two bulls simply attacked each other. They showed me a few videos on their phones… too bad I missed out on that!

      This was a strictly men-only gathering today though, all in all about forty of us. We arrived shortly after noon and a few guys started cooking rice and meat on a stick (like shish kebab) over a fire. We then ate a huge meal. Again, one of my highlights of the week… for obvious reasons. Then eighteen of us divided into teams and played football for a couple hours. I suppose that’s one of the neat things about having a really large family network – being able to have some good quality football teams. After that, we swam in a 10x10 ft. basin to cool off and then returned back to the house. I had a blast getting to know some people a bit better and having a grand time playing football – certainly qualifies for my fun and interesting experience of the week!

Doolie and the mom goat and the newborn (as of yesterday)

My homestay dad Suleiman and Laith

The shack. And cooking the meat.

Salmiya with some gangster signs in the pool.

Da bulls.

     

The Friday Ritual

            The opportunity of living with an Omani family continues to be my favorite part of the CIL program. Every Thursday or Friday, the el-Aghbari family takes me with them to one of their relative’s houses for their weekly family reunion, including terrific food and good conversation. This is the setting I find myself in this past Friday afternoon. Before I walk in to the main door, I de-shoe and then walk behind the male members of my homestay family into the male mezhles (sitting room) as the rest of the people in the room rise out of respect. We walk single-file around the room and shake all twenty to twenty-five outstretched hands. Then I sit down cross-legged with the rest, along the wall, as everyone goes back to talking. The next person walks in and everyone routinely stands back up to greet him. As we sit down, I ask the teenager sitting next to me what’s his name, what grade he’s in. As I start this conversation, I feel eyes on me. I must interject here what an awkward feeling it is to be the only white person around. Okay, people, we get the picture, I’m white! The coolest part, however, is when Omanis try to talk to me in English, and I reply back in quick Arabic. Always catches them off guard. Without fail.

            This surprise technique always wins me a few new friends. They want to ask me how many years I’ve been living here, where I work, what I think of Oman. This interrogation process is good practice for my Arabic, but by that point, I just want food. Thank heavens, lunch is on its way! The youngest kids in the family usually bring out the food (rice, meat, beans, bread), and a group of five or six gathers around a big plate and start picking away at it. I’ve been learning how to master the eating-rice-and-beans-out-of-my-hand technique, but I still have a ways to go. I usually ask Ahmed, my home-stay brother, how he thinks I did after a meal. My average rating is about a 6/10. (There was one time, however, where I was completely off my game. He looked down at the huge mess I made and just shook his head, laughing. Didn’t even grade me that time…).

            After the main course, fruit, dates, and Omani coffee are brought out. Yes, (insert “success baby” meme) more food! As the meal is finished, I sit back, I spend some more time conversing, and then our family heads out. As we drive home in the SUV, I think to myself about how while I do like this culture and the schwarma, I’m really starting to miss American food… in particular, bacon.

H2O

     The question of water usage in any culture is very interesting. Even in the States, many people, including myself, regularly use water not thinking of the source. It just comes from underground pipes, right? (Of course there are exceptions to every rule: if you're someone who grew up on a ranch in the south and relied on well water, you would most definitely conserve water). In my hometown of Pueblo, Colorado, for example, the water that I use comes from a nearby reservoir. In Oman, the question of how people get their water is a whole lot more complicated. There are no fresh water reservoirs or rivers and as a nation, it relies mainly on the ocean for its water.

     Several desalination plants in the city of Muscat are responsible for producing water for non-drinking purposes. Water from wadis (valleys between mountains that usually have water flowing through them) and imported water constitute the majority of what people drink. Some homes are supplied water by the government and have normal running water flowing from underground pipes, similar to what most people enjoy in the States. Nonetheless, most houses in Oman don’t have this luxury.

     A few days ago my homestay brother Ahmed asked me if I wanted to go with him and get some water for the house. Ahmed and I drove off in his blue water truck to the nearest water station. The water station is similar to the American toll road system. You get in the shortest line and wait your turn. Then you pull in and line yourself up with a 3” diameter water hose hanging from an overhead pipe. You get out and either pay 3 Omani rials (equivalent to 8 US dollars) for a full tank of water or you use a plastic recharge card that you put money on beforehand. Fill your 650 gallon water tank to the brim and you drive on out. Ahmed told me that for most houses, 650 gallons only lasts two days, which took me by surprise. After doing a quick google search when I got home, I discovered that the average household of four in the States uses about 250 gallons/day. Plant-watering, dishwashing, laundry, cooking, and taking showers are some of the major ways in which humans use water. And since family sizes in Oman are a lot larger than the typical American household, they would naturally use a bit more than Americans do. We made two runs to the water station, filling both our house’s white circular tank and Ahmed’s uncle’s tank.

     Making runs to the water station every two days may sound tedious, but here, it is routine. You grow up with it, you get used to it. It’s just another part of life.