Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Lunch-break language barrier

Today I ate lunch at one of my new favorite spots – a tiny strip of manmade land, no wider than a two lane road that juts out from the main island of Abu Dhabi. I can park my car right along the water and get an unobstructed view of a small bay and the Gulf beyond. It’s still too hot to eat outside so I had to stay in my car with the ac going, but it was worth it for the change of scenery (plus I could listen to a podcast of This American Life while I ate).

The view from my car—


You’ll agree it’s a big improvement from where I spend the rest of my work day and often find myself eating lunch (there’s a whole other story behind that, and it’s not because I have too much work to do) —


Notice the “privacy panes” lining the 360 degrees of glass walls surrounding my desk. Do those stripes remind you of anything?

But I digress.

After I finished my sandwich I decided I could brave the midday sun for a few minutes and snap some better pictures of my surroundings. So I got out of the car and took these—


That's Marina Mall in the distance, our home away from home when we first moved here and were furnishing our apartment.


I grew tired of the mall, but I never get tired of that turquoise water.

Just as I snapped this last shot I heard the voice of a young man call to me from behind, “Hey!”

I ignored it at first, assuming it wasn’t meant for me; but, there it was again, “Hey!” 

I turned around to find a fancy white SUV, driven by an Emirati male, about 19 or so, attended by two of his buddies. He waved me over to the car.

I don’t usually go up to cars full of men when I’m by myself, but this was a very public place in broad daylight. I could tell their intent was friendly, so I walked a bit closer.

“You take picture,” the young driver said in broken English.

Trying to interpret his meaning, several scenarios quickly played in my mind: a) He could be commenting on the fact that I was indeed taking pictures (too obvious for words), b) He could be asking if he could take my picture (not likely given what I know of Emirati men), or c) He could be asking that I take a picture of him with his friends (except he wasn't holding out a camera to me).  

As the wheels in my head were turning, he kept repeating “You take picture,” with a goofy grin on his face.  Finally, I got it – “Oh,” I said, “you want me to take your picture and send it to you?”

A flash of confusion crossed his face, but he nodded slightly and repeated his phrase again, this time gesturing towards my camera.

I was also confused. What an odd request. I mean, now I would have to write down his email address and remember to send it to him, and then he’d have my email address and that would be awkward and probably inappropriate. As if to confirm my analysis, though, he said emphatically “You won’t forget.” And I thought, how presumptuous of him to ask for this favor and then demand that I follow through.

But it seemed he was determined so I figured I'd take his picture, and then try to discuss the logistics. I raised my camera to three smiling faces and said, “Cheese.”


Notice the Ray-bans and the Calvin Klein t-shirt. 

The driver asked if he could see the photo, flashed a huge smile of approval at what he saw on the camera viewfinder, handed it back to me, and just as I was about to get down to the business of obtaining his contact info, he drove off!

All at once it hit me what had just happened. He had noticed me taking pictures of the water, assumed I was a tourist, and thought he’d give me the best gift of all, a snapshot of a real live group of Emiratis in traditional dress. When he said “you won’t forget,” I thought he was telling me not to forget to email him the picture, but actually he was saying, “I will allow you to take my picture so you won’t forget your experience in Abu Dhabi.”  

Again, I thought how presumptuous he was, but kind of sweet in his innocent assumption that I would want this. And I do. So I guess he was right. 

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Autumn in Abu Dhabi

I hesitate to admit this, but as part of my morning routine I typically spend a few minutes reading the latest posts on the Facebook Newsfeed. Coffee in hand, I find it fascinating to read what my friends back in the States were talking about while I was sleeping. I guess it helps me feel connected to my cultural roots. When you do this over a period of time you begin to notice themes, and over the past two weeks that theme has been the arrival of fall -- chilly weather, the Topsfield Fair, Halloween costumes, college football and tailgate parties, pumpkin spice lattes -- and I’m certain it won’t be long before the first mention of apple-picking. Just reading these topics conjures a particular kind of nostalgia for me, probably because of our experiences living in Princeton as well as Cambridge, both towns that I adore, both of which boast spectacular, sensory-overloading fall seasons.

The weather is also turning cooler here in Abu Dhabi, though this may be where my former expectations for fall now end. In the afternoons we’re down from the daily 117 to a respectable 102 or so, and last weekend we even ate a late dinner outside, sweating a bit but mostly comfortable. So for us fall no longer produces images of falling leaves or pumpkin patches, but rather it signals that we can emerge from our air-conditioned igloos and venture into the sun midday without vaporizing. Today, it being the first weekend of October, we thought we’d test the waters, so to speak, and see if we could survive a day at the beach.

It’s funny to be forced to wait out the summer for such an opportunity, given we live in the land of perpetual clear skies, and on an island no less, that is lined with white sandy beaches and surrounded by shimmering crystal-clear water. But we had waited long enough, and this morning we stepped onto our balcony to feel the air – a balmy 84 degrees at 7:30 – and decided if we left by 9 and lathered plenty of sunscreen we might be able to stay on the beach for an hour or two.

Arriving at our beach of choice we were greeted by this sign:


Not sure if it’s meant to be an invitation or a warning, but prophetic it was because bake we did. We had come prepared to sunbathe atop our giant beach blanket, but by the time we walked the quarter of a mile from the car to the beach, and then the 200 yards across the hot coals cleverly disguised as sand, we opted to spring for the lounge chairs for hire complete with oversized umbrella. But even sitting in the shade it didn’t take long for us to seek further refuge in the water, which looked and felt like a massive heated swimming pool. Not refreshing per se, but did the trick to take the edge off the intensifying sun.  


It was brief, but we made the most of our first beach day of the season, alternating between reading our respective novels and observing the odd collection of fellow beach-goers around us, listening to the distant buzz of jet skis and occasional peals of laughter, and reveling in the specific kind of calm that, for me, can only be found beside a body of water. As we returned to our car-slash-oven for the ride home Sam said to me “well I’m glad we did it but I’m glad it’s over.” True, it wasn’t the most pleasant of beach days, but the fact that we were able to go at all means that fall in Abu Dhabi has officially begun. 


Saturday, September 25, 2010

Nepal!

We recently completed our most impulsive trip yet, partly because we learned we’d be having a 5-day government holiday only a week in advance, and partly because the airfare to Kathmandu was the cheapest we could find out of any nearby destinations. But our interest in Nepal also came because several years back Sam’s little sister, Ann, spent a semester there in a study abroad program. Her stories amazed and impressed us, and now having spent a few days visiting where she lived alone for 6 months, we have even greater respect for her courage and fortitude.

Nepal is the first third-world country for Sam and me to visit together and is also our first predominantly Hindu country. Having no experience with the language or culture of Nepal, we decided it was best to plan this little excursion using a travel company, and it just so happened that one of my co-workers had just been to Kathmandu and had a recommendation for us. So we took his advice and booked our 4-night, 5-day itinerary through a local company called Earthbound Expeditions, who we also now highly recommend.

Upon our arrival, a driver from Earthbound picked us up and whisked us to our hotel.  Actually, "whisked" is entirely the wrong verb to use in a situation with bumper to bumper traffic all the while competing against ubiquitous motorcycles and mopeds swarming around us like so many gnats.


Our first significant experience came the next morning when we took a flight aboard a twin-prop for an air tour of the Himalayas, of course including Mount Everest. Incidentally, the airline was named Buddha Air...classic. No words, and not even this picture, can portray the awesome grandeur that we witnessed.


Following that early morning flight, we then proceeded on a tour of a historical and religious destinations around Kathmandu, three of which are UNESCO World Heritage sites. The first we visited was Bodhnath, a Buddhist stupa built around 600 AD, which today is surrounded by a large community of exiled Tibetans, many of whom reside in nearby Buddhist monasteries. Although Nepal is predominately Hindu, there are a number of flourishing Buddhist communities, and interestingly enough, Siddhartha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism, was born in Lumbini, about 150 miles southwest of Kathmandu.  Unlike it's neighbor to the south, India, Nepal has no real tension to speak of between its religious communities.


In Pashupatinath, our next stop, we came upon one of the holiest Hindu sites in Nepal where a religious ritual quite foreign to us Westerners is often practiced, public cremation of the dead.  And yes, you guessed it, a number of ceremonial cremations were taking place as we watched from the other side of the river. This river, known as the Bagmati, runs through a complex of Hindu temples and functions as a reservoir for the cremated remains, eventually carrying them out to the Ganges, the sacred river of Hinduism.

In the image, you can see a crowd gathered around the body of a woman about to be set on fire. Straw and wood-chips are placed around the body, including inside her mouth, and are eventually lit on fire by her sons. As the pyre begins to burn, loved ones take turns paying respects by laying flowers across her chest. The whole mood seems relaxed and almost festive. Several hours later, when the ritual has been completed, the ashes will be placed in the river to be returned to the earth as a drop of water returns to the ocean. As Hindus, her family believes that she will either be reincarnated in human form or will achieve moksha, a sort of enlightenment wherein one is released from the cycle of rebirth (a Hindu version of Heaven, if you will).  


Next stop was the Durbar (or palace) Square of Patan, a city to the south of Kathmandu. In the 15th century AD, a dying Malla king ordered that the three most splendid cities in his kingdom be equitably distributed to his three sons rather than risking a coup d'etat should he give his entire kingdom to just one. These three cities, Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Patan, then all benefited from an architectural renaissance and explosion resulting from the competitive drives of each brother. Gotta love sibling rivalry!


After a tour of the Patan Museum, which holds an exquisite collection of Buddhist and Hindu ancient artifacts, and stops at several Hindu temples, our afternoon was capped with a visit to a Tibetan refugee camp, which produces a number of textiles, and is known for its Tibetan carpets. Most striking here was a visit to a small, dingy, poorly lit room, where a half dozen very elderly women were sitting on the floor spinning yarns (and I don't mean telling stories!). They didn't speak English but sweetly welcomed us in their native tongue and allowed us to watch the first stage in the process of making some of the most beautiful wool carpets you've ever seen. We left the proud owners of a colorful handmade rug that has brought a new coziness to our living room in Abu Dhabi.

Much of the impetus for visiting Nepal is to experience the Himalayas, so by definition vacationing there requires exposure to, shall we say, the country’s more rustic elements. Now, I’m not a camper and have no ambitions of being a camper, so we opted to stay in a mountain lodge the night before our hike through Kathmandu Valley. We arrived after dark and were led to a modest room on the top floor with twin beds, a small but private bathroom, and wrap-around windows, which under fair weather conditions promised to provide a stunning view of the Himalayas by morning (and it did, briefly). I was pretty exhausted after a long day of sight-seeing around bustling, dusty Kathmandu so heaved a sign of relief that the space was quiet and clean.

Fast-forward 10 minutes later, and I am standing on top of the bed, my hands covering the sides of my face, while Sam is locked in the bathroom doing battle with the world's largest spider! So large, that when Sam spotted it in our bathtub he said in the most serious voice he could muster, “Shannon, do not come in here.” So large, that I could hear actual fear in his voice as he tried to hit the spider with his shoe, missed, and exclaimed “Mother of…!” So large that he wouldn't even tell me how large lest I have nightmares (I have always been an arachnophobe). He finally had the thing cornered but had nothing to kill it with, so I ran down three flights of stairs to grab a staffer, who, bless his heart was probably Hindu and came upstairs with a small broom and I think the intention to carry the thing outside. But Sam knew I would not be able to sleep until this queen of spiders was onto her next life, and emboldened by the presence of another male, went in for the kill. He then proceeded to thoroughly search the rest of our room and declared it a spider-free zone. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but let me say it again, my husband is a SAINT!

I must say though that the majestic view of the Himalayas we witnessed the next morning more than made up for the disquieting evening we had.


After a surprisingly solid night of sleep (I had a little help from my friend Nyquil), we set out early the next morning on our hike. We were accompanied by a trekking guide, a 20-something Nepali, who spoke pretty decent English and struck up an immediate friendship with Sam. They chatted easily the entire 4+ hours, for which I was grateful as I huffed and puffed up and down the hills (in my defense, I was fighting a cold for the entire trip and still a bit groggy from the medicine). But the scenery was a good distraction, and as we made our way through rocky hills, forest, jungle, waterfalls, pastoral countryside, and quaint villages where people were going about their daily lives, I felt revived. About mid-way we were cooled off by a 20-minute deluge (we came at the tail-end of monsoon season), which made the rice paddies even deeper green – seriously, the place conjures images of the Emerald City.


The latter part of the day's journey involved three city buses (two of which we rode on top), which finally deposited us at another hilltop lodge in one of the most serene settings we’ve ever stayed. For the next 18 hours or so we did very little but sit and gape at the ever-changing sky before us.


Following our peaceful romp in the bucolic Kathmandu Valley, we returned to the city of Kathmandu for one more day of sight seeing. We journeyed to Swayambhunath, another Buddhist stupa outside of Kathmandu, which requires that you hike 365 steps to enjoy the rewarding view. As the image below attests, it's also known as the Monkey temple because the grounds are literally crawling with Macau monkeys. Yes, Macau monkeys are adorable, especially the one pictured here, but if any one of them thinks you have food and are planning on keeping it to yourself, then watch out! We witnessed two instances of people being harangued by these self-entitled hooligans. One monkey actually jumped from a tree onto a woman's shoulder (standing right in front of Sam) to grab a candy bar from her hand! My tip to those wishing to visit the impressive Swayambhunath stupa: leave the Snickers at home.


Even taking into account the anxiety of having to keep watch for maverick monkeys as you work your way up the steep staircase, the stupa is well worth it to see the view of Kathmandu. At certain times of the year, even more stunning vistas present themselves, when the rain clouds are replaced by azure skies and snow capped mountains in the distance.


Our next stop was Kathmandu's own Durbar Square. This is the most historic area of Kathmandu, and is filled mainly with 15th- and 16th-century Nawari architecture (the Nawaris were the most skilled craftsmen and were employed by the Malla kings mentioned above in their drive to build an immortal city).


The day we were visiting happened to be the first day of Teej, which is a three-day festival for Hindu women to celebrate their marriages and families, and includes a day of feasting, a day of fasting, and a day of purification. We were there on the day of feasting so the crowds were even more dense and spirited than usual. On this day, all married women wear red saris so everywhere we went we were flooded with a beautiful riot of red!


We finished our evening with a stroll through the winding alleyways of the Thamel neighborhood, which is the tourist hub and packed to the gills with shops selling everything imaginable, followed by a traditional Nepali dinner of chicken curry and rice, fried okra, vegetables, wild boar and a fabulously smooth rice wine similar to sake, followed by a cultural show of music and dance. This had all been arranged by our tour guide, and was a bit staged for the sake of tourists but fun nonetheless.



Next morning we relaxed over brunch, browsed the gift shop at our hotel and then headed back to the airport. This was another experience in and of itself but this entry has grown too long already. Let's just say Kathmandu takes airport security to a whole new level!