Getting Back

Every time I gripe about how badly I want to leave this city, or about how much the Midwest sucks, I should really drive down I70. As cheesy in writing and in speech as I can get, I must articulate exactly how gorgeous Kansas can be.



1. Sometime this past fall, I saw hundreds and hundreds of birds migrating- but not only were they simply flying in the sky above me, it was the entire picture before me as I was driving. There was a lake, a sunset, leaves blowing, trees in the distance and dark and light clouds of all shapes ... the colors of the sunset contrasted with the darkness trying to linger in was breathtaking. It was as if the dark was asking permission to creep in on the gorgeous glory of the sun, clouds, and hundreds of birds in a V flying on by. The lake was glimmering and my jaw had long been dropped.

2. Tonight, I would have never noticed this lake if it weren't for the moonlight glimmering upon its surface. The sky is clear and the half moon was bright.

3. Void of nature, but my stomach beckoning, I committed the sin of the late night McDonalds run. There in the distance- were the searchlights. (Really? Mcdonalds has search lights?! wow... ) As I'm driving I see the big yellow M in the distance. After all the nature, the M was the perfect sign of our times, and of course I submit to all its yellow and round glory. (Ok, that was a bit much- I hate fast food! Kill me now :p) I had to just laugh out loud.

I really enjoy listening to the BBC at midnight -6am GMT. I can see London bustling around , and everyone trying to get to work when , I'm here, about to go to sleep....

zzz,
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,

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