In Loving Memory

I have a profound love for the country that I do not know. The country I hail from but have never known, never tasted and felt with my own two hands. But ever since I was a child I have felt it in my heart , beating so strong. I know that this place exists. I also know how it existed, and so happy were the people that were living there. Void of war, but full of love and compassion. Its people are strong willed. They are exuberant, hard working and some of the smartest people I have ever spoken to. Their stories never end. You can sit with any Iraqi- any where on the globe, And be entertained for hours with stories detailing the sounds and smells about this place they grew up in. But now- they feel estranged from that land they still hold so dear to their hearts. It is Iraq. Its a place my parents came from, but one that I never experienced.

Today is the one year anniversary of my mothers passing. Crying - does not suffice, remembering her doesn't take conscious effort. Hearing her voice, and feeling her presence I am used to. Her memory is soaked in my soul. Her words I remember daily. An angel on earth, there are no words to describe what she looks like, or to describe her life. No words are enough for an angel. Yet- even after one year, she is still so alive. Inside of me, I feel her presence. I only wish I could ask her questions about the life she lived. The struggles I face, I wonder if she had the same questions...The curiosity, and the pain.

Iraq is such a huge, yet small part of my identity. I never knew how to answer 'where are you from?' The same patriotism I feel for America, I feel more passionately for Iraq. The human emotion I experience when I think about the place my mother and father spent their younger years releases itself in tears when I hear an Iraqis words in poetry, the writings of both my mother and father. Both of them were poets, writers. The love letters that they shared their entire life, I now hold sacred in a small black box. Bundles of letters and pictures of my parents are spread between my four siblings and I. The adventures across Europe and The United States, Disney Land and the Eiffel Tower. The genuine, bright smile of my glowing mother and her two small children in 1975. Clad in a fur coat, ever so stylish in her kitten heel and perfectly styled hair- I wonder what was she thinking. I inherently sense the immense love she had for my father.

My roots as an Iraqi, I was born with.

I was bred with the intensity and courage to speak for myself as an American.

The two loves I have for America and Iraq seem so separate, yet so alike...

I ran back to the United States after living in the Middle east for reasons which I could not pronounce in the Middle East. In my appearance- it didn't matter. I look like an Arab girl and sound like an American. So who was I to be. I confused others constantly. In turn I confused myself. With Arab social expectations placed upon me because of the superficiality placed on how I look,compared with the standards and rights I knew I was meant to have and be able to practice as a Muslim and an American - I felt with rage in my heart - with the need to express them, the two just could not coincide. How was I to balance both world view points? Lifestyles?
Was I to behave in a manner that I was used to growing up as an American? Or alter my behavior according to how I was 'supposed' to be only because that is how I was projected outwardly? Factually, If I had blonde hair and blue eyes I didn't have to behave the way Arab society expected of me because I would automatically be considered European or American. In respect to my father and to honor my heritage - I chose to embrace it all.

I made some discoveries. I never understood why my mother or father would tell me that I am too harsh, or stubborn. Since the age of 18, I learned to be independent. Before then, I was very dependent on the people around me. I made my own way as I experienced more in life. I learned that I had to speak up, ask questions when I didnt understand and acknowledged that the world wasn't as peachy as I had imagined it to be in my younger and more sheltered days. I created defenses and became more and more jaded towards the emotions that I had once thought would be special and unique. In a traditional Arabs eyes and mind, I maybe was too outspoken. I felt it inwardly and expressed it outwardly- I always thought that was okay, until I went to the middle east and realized that compared to others. I truly was that way- but only as a manifestation of the environment I was bred into.

I was once at the airport in Muscat Oman. I was bitter to come back. I was there for my father only. An old man tried to help me carry my bags that I was completely capable of doing myself. And at his attempt, I immediately assumed that he had ulterior motives. Did it occur to me that he was just trying to be kind? As if I am pre-programmed to think that he is thinking I must be helped because he sees me as attractive, or just simply as a woman. I was reactive and defensive. Looking back, I realize I was unquestionably insensitive and resentful.

These qualms I wished I could have pondered over with my mother... What would she tell me? What would she say or think about the person I have become, and am becoming? Would I be different?

It was meant. And those questions don't matter. Because who I am meant to be has already been decided. I only have the choice to live my best life. She knew this. She would tell me to take it one day at a time, to have faith.

Lights, Camera, Action!

Hi. Im leaving soon.

I feel indifferent. - and I hate indifference. Ive been waiting for this for a long time. Its as if suddenly, I'm not a kid anymore. But at the same time -- travelling alone is not as exciting as it used to be. I always travel alone! I wish I had someone to play with on the ride home. maa :(

But thats not what im trying to say! What I want to say exceeds the amount of time I have to post this blog. Practically, I am all packed up and ready to roll. But im a bit torn up inside about leaving. Ce La Vie, life must go on, on the tracks, on the presses- whatever! and im excited about that- to say the least!

Oman will always be a place I come back to. Its a home away from home. And it really carries a special place in my heart. Im thinking about it as how I am going to remember it in the future, and it brings warmth and sushine to my heart- because ive learned. so. so. much... now lets not forget that ;)

Its the beginnig of the ending, and the beginning of a beginning. :p

(Have you ever noticed that when you say or write a word three times or more it suddently looks and sounds really strange? lol)

well now.......

I spent a lot of time at the start of the year resenting the fact that I am here. I spent a lot of moments reminising about the life I used to have. I used to talk a lot about how "messed up" things are here, and its taken me some time to really understand WHY things are the way they are here. I now see the stark differences clearly and can interpret things with a more open mind instead of using clouded- one track minded thinking- I learned to accept , and in the end can clearly filter out the good and bad from both sides of the culture. Every culture has its baggage, and I shouldnt have ever been the one to keep tabs. Im glad ive come to the realization in which I can learn openly, and nicely...

and I do like it here. :O

There has to be another post later on about tolerance and community in the arab world vs the western one.

Its been good yall. Ill see you soon, here or there... ;)

Null and not Void

Being here in Oman was the most selfless thing I have done in a long time.

Im totally refreshed. and truly new.

For the first time in a long time, ive realized how selfish I have been in the past.
Life gets distracting when you are juggling so many things, you lose perspective- and forget whats important. This is soppy- but hear me out, cuz its so true.

We so often complain about the things that we dont have, or the things in life that we want- or the pressures and sacrifices we have made-- We also very often forget that the world we create for ourselves is not the high all end all. There are other people in your life that may need you. There are people in your life that truly have your best interest at heart. We are selfish. Our culture can be a selfish and sick one- if you let it dictate you. Families dont want to get involved in eachothers lives, cuz we all make sure that we are not stepping on eachothers tails, or that we are getting too close. What happened to the days when you called your brother or good friend just to say hello and see whats going on in their life.. ask about them perhaps? -- without them asking what it is you want? I wonder how many people out there take time out of their lives to just call others that mean something to them, without really xpecting anything in return.Maybe im exagerrating a bit- because I know plenty of families that do do that, including my own- and im very thankful for that.

I dont know how I got on that tangent. I guess I suddenly realized how much I have learned by being here- as the time comes nearer for me to leave.

I thank God. Without God and religion, we are nothing. Without it, we can easily neglect to count the blessings in our lives, and truly mean it.

Now go call your mother.

xoxo...
...

Your Real Age

Ugh! what was I on with that last post?! Please, excuse the bad writing. I want to go through it and tear it apart! (for you non- writers, that means 'edit') I guess that's what chocolate cake does to you.

So, I was doing something really important until I realized that I need sleep. I have reverted back to US time. Its as if my body is somehow trying to very sneakily tell me that its time to go home. And yes- it is folks. Count down within one month.

I can literally feel my heart pumping at this very moment. I haven't felt that in quite a while. It must have something to do with the chest press reps I've been doing lately. I'm so excited!

I haven't really felt Oman lately. I have isolated myself into a planning and finicky little hole. The thought of facing Omanis makes me feel like I'm forced to go on a dreaded family vacation- or something.

I can hardly walk, or shop around here without feeling harassed by a zillion eyes. I prefer to walk late at night, with nature. Sometimes you can see every star in the sky, because the air is so clear here. I'm thankful that Oman is so scenic and beautiful. Dubai seems void of nature.

If it were to rain here for a few days, the desert would be so plush with greenery. Sometimes the every day bright sun can get annoying. In Kansas, I look forward to sunny days as I pull open the blinds each morning- like a surprise waiting to be revealed. Here I don't even have that sense of anxiety. Instead- I long for a gloomy cloudy day. It brings such a warm sense of coziness. It doesn't come around these parts often. Mind you- most Omanis have never heard really loud thunder before. Imagine not knowing what that sounds or feels like, for that matter.

See? I've learned to appreciate you, Kansas.

I remember driving down K10 with sun roof and all windows open, and everything is so green. I'm tired of brown here.

But as I say this with a large sigh- I will always miss the ocean. Nothing can replace Oman's beautiful coastline.

OK, enough reminiscing about a place in which I currently reside. Oxymoron anyone?

Love Love,
MY

Eye Of Your Mind

Try asking me why I cant sleep?
Or why I cant move?
Is this what it means to truly feel a loss?

Blame the espresso, or the chocolate cake.
but just dont ask me why.

A loss in time -look behind you.
you cant even feel the ground beneath your feet.

if you are catching up, take a sec to look around you instead.

-
Need a little time to wake up, wake up.
To rest your mind, you know you should so I guess you might as wellllll........
So, whats the story, morning glory?

-OASIS

The story is that -- here-- you are in the middle of the desert. Im telling you, people wont change. Bedoins are still doing what their ancestors did, even though they have all the resources and technology in their hands. No matter how the world changes, if minds dont grow with it, we stay in the stone ages.

I remember when I was in the hospital with my mother, bedoin women in the hospital used to come say hello and visit. On one days chat with one of the women, she asked me what the weather was like in America, and during our conversation that I kept carrying on because I thought it was interesting- I realized that this woman still didnt know that the earth was round. She didnt know why time was different in America vs Oman. I tried to explain it to her- and all the information was new. I gave her the benefit of doubt-- She recognized that she didnt have a formal education. I respected that. She was still confident, strong and secure with herself- not embarressed. There are too many lessons in this story - I cant get into it. :p

She kept telling me that she was going to find me a husband and that I had to get married.

I wont forget her face.

She had a cell phone in her pocket. She would answer it - but did it ever occur to her how sound can travel through a tiny device , and that the person on the other end was in an entirely different location, yet- that time IS DIFFERENT on other parts of the globe?

Her face was clear, brown and full., she had perfect teeth and such a pretty smile.
She covered it with a scary bedoin -- what I like to call-- 'mask', that my cat would even run away from upon encounter.

Tell me to stop thinking, cuz I can't unless im asleep. Even then my brain wont stop.
You've heard my dreams.

Arrivederci friends...

~MY

3am

It seems I am only motivated and inspired to write in the wee hours of the night.

Im listening to Teagan and Sara- which for some reason brings me this strange sense of peace and content.

I am weary about the US economy. I was thinking about how America has deteriorated into not becoming one of the greatest places to live in the world. Thanks to Buck Fush- America is in recession- no one wants to admit it, but this is true. Do you think anything will change when we have a new president? I doubt...It'll take some precious time that most people don't have. They have to pay their bills. They have to send their kids to good schools, they have fill their cars with gas. The same gas that I pay 20 cents a litre for here in Oman. They also have to EAT FRUIT which is becoming increasingly expensive...

Do you think America is the best place to live? Im starting to have my doubts. I felt it in the air in O'Hare. People are a bit panicky. No one looks at each other.

It bothers me even more to know that most Americans dont even REALIZE that there is A WORLD that they live in... the world is NOT America. Lets not forget the gracious beauty that other parts of the world posses...

I drove to one of the highest mountain peaks here in Muscat. The view was more than breath taking. I could see the beach shore line for miles and miles. Looking below was a vast vast vast ocean spread out into oblivion. Everything below as tiny as legos. Lining the crashing waves are buildings and mountains. You know-- that song that I love? buildings and mountains? hehe...Aw, my brother has phenomenal musical taste.

Anyway...

For my graduating class- Hows the job search going? Not sure over here. With the economy and all :p

Kisses and bunchkins.
~MY

Patience is not a Virtue

A person can only virtuous when it is a CHOICE. Being GOOD by default, -- because one is faced with a situation he is forced to handle without having frequent conniptions doesn't automatically make him GOOD or VIRTUOUS.

Of course there is the issue of nature... which I wont get into right now.

Ive had a hellish morning. I got in to a car accident last night. Ive had serious car issues this morning. All of them just a series of unfortunate events.

The traffic flow in Oman is based on roundabouts, circles if you will. It means that every intersection is a constant flow of yielding. Preventing accidents becomes a matter of the 'careful driver' I prefer traffic lights. GO AND STOP. Roundabouts carry the risk of someone reckless to take chances, and drive faster. The roundabout trusts that people are going to be cautious when entering and leaving. Sometimes, they ARE NOT.

Last night a subdued young lady driving a pearl white Lexus hit me. I cant draw the diagram of how it happened. But it happened. My VW Polo GTI is fine. Im fine. I spun in a half circle while braking. I thought that the rear end of my car was totaled. It wasn't, there are dents. and cracks on the bottom spoiler. Its a sports edition. cute car. no prob to fix. Everything that happened next is what drove me to utter impatience.

Usually, when an accident occurs and you are the driver- you GET OUT OF THE CAR and take a look, maybe start talking to the other driver, maybe start screaming, I dunno!! I just know that I felt completely exploited walking out of my car, because first. I'm a woman. second, because the other car with two women. just sat there. didn't get out at all. Either they don't know how to take charge, or they are just used to everyone taking care of things for them. I'm assuming because they are driving a 2008 Lexus- that they have maids, and drivers, and cooks. and and and.

A guy in another car stopped and started taking care of everything. This is just such a male dominated country. UAE- not as much.

My US passport saved me. It was easy to play the incoherent foreigner who knows little arabic. I couldn't understand the police men-- whom are literally kids. Bedouins. dressed in uniform like they are something special. Call me bitter!

They were nice to me. After some time explaining what happened. I got handed the phone of someone who speaks English and can tell me what to do. Welcome to Oman. you are our visitor he says. don't worry about anything. :O

I can understand and speak Arabic very fluently. Sometimes - Omanis get tricky and start speaking Swahili. Or they talk so fast in Arabic, I need to slow down and speak English.

I went to the station. The other girls in the car came, I asked if they were OK, yes. they were OK, I didn't hear their voice.- and they didn't ask me if I was OK either.

I took off this morning from work to go to the insurance company. After about 30 min of trying to explain to them that I am allowed to drive in Oman with an American license for up to three months, they just went on with the process. All the officialism here are dealt and confirmed by simple word of mouth. Not by facts. So ive learned the game and played that card.

I payed $250 bucks to the company to fix the car. Apparently its my fault. As on other occasions Ive had with the law here, Ive learned to let it go. Mashil 7al.

I left. I needed cash. went to an ATM, and lo and behold, as I'm locking the car door, the key gets stuck in the door. After an hour of security guards and dismantling my door, they got it out.

Ive had horrible luck today. As I left, I got lost and because the roads don't allow you to exit frequently, I had to drive faaar in the direction of Dubai in order to turn back around again. Silly British road construction influence.

I left my father totally innocent of all these happenings. If you had an Iraqi father- you would know why ;)


Love,
MY

Illumination

I've arrived about an hour ago. Im wondering how long I would have to sit and write to document all the intricacies in each experience I had. Everything as simple as sitting in a hotel lobby and just observing the people, journalistic-ally speaking, the sites and sounds have so much to offer, so much to explore...

In any case, I did manage to write about the first part of my small getaway from Oman. I will post more as the week continues.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Friday June 27, 2008 1:51 a.m.

Im sitting in the hotel room after a long day road tripping and evening spent navigating, and trying to communicate the needs of a simple tourist.

The road from Muscat to Dubai fits the perfect description: Simple yet Complicated.
A landscape of tiny towns, surrounded by mountains, sand and strewn brushes, bushes and trees that only survive by the grace of Allah in a land so baron of water.

Upon arriving at the United Arab Emirates- Sultanate of Oman border, we faced – what I thought would be a simple visa stamp. After about four kilometers of the Omani passport check we reached the Emaraty border crossing. This time we had to go to a special window, standing shoulder to shoulder – side by side with cues of foreigners trying to get their visas. Lebanese, Indians, Australians, Syrians, Philipinos, English all of us in the 115 F heat WAIT for a silly little man behind the window to record each persons entry of the country. Just when you think you are stamped and ready to go, he reminds us that we must go get insurance and come back. Now the advantage of living in a chaotic system is that people can get away with a lot more. Mainly because people here feel they own a right by their suffering to take advantage of others. In this case it means that I can hold my place in line while my dad goes to buy car insurance and that others take their turn in getting visas. The moment dad comes back with a receipt- we can easily butt right back in and resume our visa certification. I’m assuming in Western countries you go to the end of the line. Don’t you dare try and CUT, because if you do you are violating my time. Maybe in these countries it seems more human and courteous to get away with such small things. At the same time, it is also courteous to go back to the end of the line. In both situations and places, its working; but one possibly less painful.

The sand dunes in Dubai are just gorgeous. The way the sun hits its curves and lines the top creating shadows that experiencing such a view you just know that even if the worlds best painter painstakingly stroked his brush, would never be able to create such beauty and perfection.
They go so high and are so consistent. How can the wind move and align them in such a strategic fashion…? Subhanallah…

Not before long we saw Dubai's evening skyline, skyscrapers lined like legos- you stare at the wonderment that man can also create. This realization just sends cold shivers down my back. ….. Need I say more……….?

Burj Dubai is simply scary….

For those of you who don’t know , its soon to be one of the worlds tallest buildings. In Jeddah, Saudi Arabia there is a plan in progress to build a much taller one…. By far.

This is the part of Dubai that is unsettling. The master minds that are coming up with these concepts, and the poor and underpaid immigrants that are physically putting it all together. There is more. It gets worse day by day, as it gets taller and taller.

There is just so much to write about….talk about… Its late, and I must get to bed.

Love love,
MY

On the Subway

I'm still at work, and for the first time in a long time I feel that time has ceased to exist. Its 4pm, and time to leave, and I can honestly say I did not feel the day go by.

There is always so much to do and follow up on, that the small things I did accomplish are nothing compared to the mountain of work that is ahead of me. I guess that's why its important to take it one. at. a. time.

I'm a huge list maker. I have lists upon lists, in different notebooks, online, on my phone, on the fridge... It doesn't end. The more I try to organize the more complicated things become. So I try to live by the motto "What is the most important thing I have to do right NOW?" But I'm realizing the problem with this. Important things are always arising in a days time. So you end up doing only surface level things and cant get deep down to the nitty gritty. I guess this is what happens when you are motivated.

Its June 21st already. I have been back for over a month. I still feel like I stepped off the plane yesterday. My dilemma with time is not going to solve itself. Neither is my dilemma with sleep. I should have learned in college that getting up early or staying up late doesn't make you any more productive. Especially if you have stayed up late and expecting to get up early. I cant sleep normally these days. I wake up, and cant fall back asleep. I have never been such a nervous wreck! waking up in the middle of the night, falling back asleep. Ruth, do you know the answer?! :P I LOVE YOU RUTHANNE SUZANNE!

I have this strange sense sometimes that I am living outside of my body. When most of my days are spent in front of a computer screen, its easy to escape. When you are focused, your entire environment can cease to exist. When I come out of this state, I realize where I am, and how time has passed. I know I sound crazy, but its hard to articulate such a complex state of mind!!! Do you get me? ( that's another thing ppl say here which I don't like "do you get me?") -- anyway.

I posted a comment on my brothers myspace page saying how I liked his taste in music, his musical choice, his instrumental proclivity, etc. He told me that these are the signs of someone losing their mind. On the contrary! I tell him I am at the top of my game :)
Maybe he is the crazy one. I love you doodie!

I started this post with one important thing on my mind. My coworkers decided to come in the office late, and leave early. My boss is out of town, and the person "in charge" decides that we will come in at 9am instead of 8am for the next few days. Ive realize something. THEY DON'T WORK! A coworker asked me when I was going to leave, I told her ill leave when I get done... she says, oh, cuz we are thinking of leaving. ??!!? Wtf?

Ill get into the philosophy of why Omanis are incapable of doing real work later.

Oh- and also, why the gulf is swimming in money while the rest of the middle east watches.
The two are related

Love love,
MY

The Grill House

Its bout time for a new post people. I have these urges to write, and it keeps getting postponed. Maybe I just have to realize that its impossible to document every interesting thing about Oman.

My latest news:

I went to a wedding a few weekends ago. It was at a five star hotel. It was extremely glamourous, luxurious and most definately- ridiculously expensive. I wore a dress that made me feel like a princess. Pictures are attached. Ive learned that dressing up for a wedding in the middle east is about making sure that no one else has ever seen what you put on. Its about being creative, not about stylish or trendy or classic. I saw some of the most gorgeous dresses, and also some of the ugliest makeup hair and dresses ive ever seen. I cant imagine how some women think that layering 15lbs of makeup and glitter, and wearing dresses that literally blind me with colors and beads automatically means that they look good. The wedding was entirely women, regardless my dress covered me from head to toe, and have never felt so sexy. Well- maybe on a few occasions :p

As ive mentioned before, I still feel like an observer and never part of the crowd. These people come from a completely diffent background. I do identify with it, and understnad it. Yet- I dont feel like I am striving to live up to any standards etc. I am glad that I can still be myself here. It took me some time to establish this to others. It didnt matter. Naturally, we are happier when we are true to ourselves.

The bride walked in looking like a Swarovski goddess. She was so nervous, as cameras and projectors were all on her. She wasnt smiling- just thinking about tripping, or the trail of her dres being in line. She literally looked like a dear in headlights.
I usually get emotional at weddings- even if I dont know the bride or her family. This time- I didnt feel a thing... Until I saw the brides sisters hug and greet her, and help her carry the trail of her dress. They were in tears, and all I could think of was my mother... and my sisters.

My very good friend of royalty invited me to her private beach the other day. When we arrived, I thought I had walked into a scene of the OC, or Nip Tuck, or or or or !!!! (ive never watched the OC-its the first thing that came to my mind :p) The beach house, which mind you, no one lives there on a daily basis- was ginormous. the back of the house has a pool a huge foyer that couuld easily hold over 1000 people. It looks over the top of the mountain, and below is the whitest sand and beach ive seen in Oman. the tide was high and the waves were rising. its completely isolated and the silence there is deafening. The crashing of waves on the rocks is all you hear, and the sun setting in the horizon is all you see - as if coming straight out of a Monet painting.

The water was cool, as I sat there staring at the sand, I noticed microscopic creatures lurking in the sand. If you stare hard enough you see that moist sand is constantly moving.

The water and sand gave me better exfoliation than I could have ever gotten at the worlds greatest spa.

I had lunch buffet at the Intercontinental hotel with my dad this past weekend. Specifically so I could eat raw fish. Dipped in soy sauce and a tad of horseradish, along with caviar and salmon eggs. My dad and I dont usually eat this extravagantly, but we deserved a treat.- Making sure that we got our moneys worth. It was a pretty penny!

Dad is doing well. Its rare that we get emotional about my late mother together. But we both know that we are thinking of her always. Its just one of those things that are unsaid, and deeply felt. But sometimes, the flood gates open.

My time here has been fulfilling as I have decided to take back my world view of positivity, enlightenment, love, and acceptance.

I always have more, im saving it for later.

Love and Loyalty,

60,000 Thoughts per Day

I dont have much energy now regardless of the Red Bull I downed about an hour ago.

Bullet Points

My boss was back in the office today after being gone for two weeks.

Sitting in an office for 8 hours a day is completely draining.

The SECRET is a bunch of recycled bullshit.

the house is either freezing cold or hellish hot.

my boss has an inferiroty complex.

arabs can be seriously incompetent.

businesses here are consistently inconsistent.

I am drinking a lot of club soda and fake beer. aka, Malt beverages.

My kittens have a lot of attitude. They broke my lamp.

I stole a list of contacts of Top Dog business cards here in OMAN.

Making a power point presentation is the easiest bunch of crap that I can pull out of .... *sigh*

People here need to grow some brains and stop being spoiled brats.

I cant get the damn English accent out of my freekin head.

Id rather struggle hard and be happy, then be happy and too comfortable.

People can go to grocery stores here just to hang out.

I have actually become a reader. aka. dork.

I made the sickest Fettucine Alfredo today.

My boss has an inferiority complex; lol - I know.

Everyone is trying to make money.

Organizing a fashion show costs a helluva lot of money.

Today, I saw real live slavery in the fields.

I'm much more talented than this.

Being obnoxious is a result of your environment- sometimes.

Egyptian kids and their parents much more annoying that I had originally thought.

TV here is all an ego competition. No One seems real!

Im starting to like the VIEW - for goodness sakes.

Im remembering falling asleep on my couch in my apartment and waking up with dry eyes.

Indians are smart, but they need to talk slower

The desert is mighty brown, and the mountains are so high.

Mosques and a mountain view is an uplifting sight.

Please start using the English Language properly.

If I hear the word rubbish, or bloody one more time----!

American brands should have stayed in America

I have too many shoes.

I have lots of stories to tell.

Im not sleepy, but so tired.

These are some of the random thoughts that im sure ive bored you with.
I have no energy to be articulate tonight. My boss sucks it out, swallows it - never to be seen again. Im looking for something else.

peace, love, happiness. - not drugs, or booze.

Love you.

Two Weeks Overdue

I have been here for a little over two weeks now. I have been itching to write about my everyday experiences, but it seems that every time I try and do so, I get distracted by something else. Something shinier, possibly :p

I have so many interesting encounters with the people, and places I see in Oman. I want to share them with you, and to document them myself. This is important in achieving a goal here that is slow and ongoing. And that is- discovering who you are on earth , and how your experiences shape who you become.

Sometimes, when you see something in print, you realize what your thoughts really are, and not what you think they are. Writing allows people to organize, and compartmentalize their ideas and beliefs.

While Im thinking of it, its always important to make a first draft, and before something dreadful happens to a long thought out post- im going to save it in Microsoft Word. I know this has happened to everyone at least once.

Now that my thoughts have been interrupted I can quickly jot down the random days that I have had in the past two weeks that I have been meaning to write about.

Last week, a co worker and I went to a very secluded and hidden Hookah bar. I thought I was walking into what looked like a brothel. It was in a remote back door of a shopping center. We had to climb three floors of UN air-conditioned, and unlit stairs. I couldn’t even see the place when we walked in because the entire room was filled with hookah smoke. Surprisingly, it was packed with people. It was during our lunch hour. As I was told by my co worker. This is a place that people only know about by word of mouth. Couples come here to hide away; women and young people come here so they can smoke really cheap sheesha for 1 Omani Rial – the cheapest you can find in Oman, and so that the women can smoke without any shame.

In most places in the gulf, its doesn’t “look nice” for “Khaleeji” (Khaleej means The Gulf in Arabic) girls to smoke a hookah because of the cultural expectation that women should always be lady like. This is especially true if she is wearing abaya and covering her hair.

I didn’t try the hookah- but their Chicken Shawerma was really good and at a decent price. The place is run by Egyptians. I could not help but to wonder why the hell they are so secluded? They must be hiding from something… but maybe that’s just my American skepticism about e v e r y t h i n g .

It was an interesting experience to say the least, I did enjoy myself. We made it back to the office an hour and a half later. Boss wasn’t there- So I guess it didn’t matter 

Work is slow in the summer here. Most people leave the country because of the unbearable heat. Most days I find that im not motivated to work. I have to talk myself into actually caring. The work ethic takes a fake authoritative position when it comes to employee/ employer relationship.

I find that those in charge have to pretend to be boss like. I also feel they suffer from some kind of inferiority complex. Therefore, constantly dumping work on others justifies their position as boss, because they have more important things to do, or because they want to show that they know better than others. Bla blab la… Im not too concerned.

Did I ever tell you that I love peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches? Oh and soy milk? ----Yea- I know!

Anyway…….

A friend and I went to a restaurant called Darcy’s Kitchen. It’s supposed to be an Irish kitchen. All the employees were Asian and they hadn’t the slightest idea about the menu, or what authentic Irish food is. This did not surprise me. The chef was Indian. I thought about contacting the owner of Darcy’s kitchen Oman for about 1.5 seconds. Then I tasted the steak and the thought disappeared.

The heat here is ridiculous. Its only May and im hearing about how “this is nothing” Today the temperature was 111 degrees Fahrenheit.

Driving is not so much fun when you have to blast the AC and sweat the entire drive home. I have to park my car in an uncovered area. It’s inevitable that it will be hot for a while. I tried covering it, but the cover was too flimsy and I don’t have the energy in the morning to pull out a huge plastic cover and put it over the entirety of my – well, small VW Polo GTI.  So now I use the simpler version of a windshield visor.

I adopted two kittens from a shelter yesterday!! Surprisingly I found the place rather easily. I trusted my instinct when I took directions from the German woman over the phone. I can’t mapquest the address so she had to describe the area to me. I was so happy for myself when I found it! I usually get lost when it comes to others giving directions around here. The roads are all roundabouts, few traffic lights and there are not very specific street names. They do exist, but no one uses them, or knows them. People simply go by “you know where this place is? And that one place…” Im making perfect sense I know :p

You get my drift.

The kittens are adorable. I can go on and on about this. But the few outstanding points about the shelter. It’s only known by word of mouth. You cannot look this place up. It is run by foreigners entirely. – And by foreigners I mean, Europeans. Don’t forget this is the Middle East. In America, the foreigners are US! THE ARABS! :p

It’s a clinic and a shelter. You adopt for free. All the animals are vaccinated and neutered or spayed. They have dogs and cats. Many of the cats were rescued. One of them is entirely blind. With no eyes. The veterinarian had to have them removed because they were so infected when she was brought in. I really had to evaluate myself when I realized that no matter how affectionate and smart this cat was, I didn’t want it. Hmm…

Now I have two very loving kittens. They think I am their mother and they follow me everywhere in the house. One of them insists on sleeping in the crook of my neck and shoulder and no where else…  its fun to watch them play and they bring me joy.

Most people here who are of the upper crest of society have maids. A good friend of mine just recently moved into a castle. When I say castle I am not exaggerating. I want you to close your eyes and imagine the long marble hallways with doors on both sides that you can only see in, well- CASTLES. Her bedroom is the size of my old apartment times 10. Again, im not making this up.

She was complaining to me about how she had a temper tantrum with her maid. She mistakenly opened a box that was supposed to go to charity, and put away the things that- im sure looked new- back into her room. My friend was explaining to me how she opened her cupboards and saw those things back in her closet. She had a complete tantrum and yelled at the maid. She made her cry. Upon listening to this story, I could only laugh. She was damn serious. But I had to laugh. If you know me at all, you would know why I had to do this. She kept insisting that her maid had no business in opening the box etc.

I tried to imagine myself in that situation. I would have little to no reaction, and I would simply put the things away and tell her that those things were not meant to go back, and that they were for charity. Bottom line. End of story.

I won’t even get started on the rest of the other details.

My days are interesting everyday, because I have taken the role of an observer. I refuse to get emotional about the injustices I witness, or the lifestyle, etc. I am simply an onlooker. It doesn’t have to affect me. I have total control ;)

I miss home and I think about you everyday.

Love,
MY