February and March - Part 2

This chapter (though I'm sure several of you are awaiting stories of my spring break in Spain) is all about the end of February and March - part 2 to the last update (better late than never, right?!). Enjoy!! :)

Discover Oman trip to Masirah Island with High School Students
There are three main reasons that I chose to move to this international school in Oman and not another school that offered me positions: 1) there are teachers who meet weekly to play Ultimate Frisbee; 2) the student population at this school is truly international - there are very few Omani residents at my school, and only about 1/2 the population have U.S. passports; and, 3) this school has an outdoor experiential education program with a goal of encouraging students to take healthy risks to stretch their comfort zones, and interact with local people and communities to learn about the country where they live. That program is called Discover Oman. Each school year the students in every grade spend a week getting out and "discovering" Oman. In elementary school, the students go on day trips around Muscat and surrounding areas. In middle and high school, the students spend 4-5 days out camping in different locations around the country, hiking, biking, swimming, kayaking, snorkeling, camel-riding, and bus-riding. Each year their options are different and they are not allowed to go on the same trip twice.

The trip that I chaperoned was one to Masirah Island; there were 16 high school students from all grades, 2 school chaperones, 2 guides from an Omani touring company, 2 drivers, a bus, and a truck filled with our bikes. If you remember my stories about Masirah Island from past emails, you may recall that to set foot on Masirah, it is necessary to ride a ferry to the island. You may also remember that there is no organized method to board the ferry. Well, because of this, and because we were such a large fleet, it took us nearly 2 full days just to arrive to the island.

Night number one was spent on a beach on the mainland. The guys from the Omani touring company set up two large tents: one for boys, one for girls. After setting up camp, they prepared dinner, which consisted of grilled meat, bread and hommus. There was a campfire going for most of the night, and Rashid (one of the Omani guides) taught me how to write my name in Arabic. Ray (the other chaperone) and I slept on cots that Ray brought along. We woke up early on day two to try to catch the first ferry across to Masirah. We broke camp quickly and we made it to the pier as the first ones in line to board the next ferry, whenever it might show up. Ferry #1 came, and so did about 30 cars, that all cut in front of us to make their way across. Frustrating. After waiting for several more hours at the ferry pier, kicking around a soccer ball, singing along to the contraband music that the students brought along, and snacking on anything that anyone would share, we finally managed to board a ferry. Even then, though, the space was limited and we had to squeeze to all fit.

We got to the island around 3pm and headed straight for lunch at a restaurant. That was the beginning of the Omani cuisine that we would experience each day for the rest of our trip: biryani rice served on a large metal serving tray, topped with chicken or fish. Everyone sits in circles on the floor with plastic covering the space in front of us. Then we all lean over the tray of rice and dig in with our right hands (no untensils, no left hands), balling up the rice, peeling the meat from the bones, and mixing in hot sauce as we saw fit. The Omanis even taught us a technique to balling the rice that helps in getting it to your mouth, so that you don't end the meal with rice all over your face, clothes and lap (I never actually mastered that technique...). The food was just what we needed to clear our minds of any frustrations we might have been feeling about the long wait to get to the island. After eating, we piled back into the bus and drove to the southern tip of the island to find our camping spot for the rest of the week. Once camp was set up, we bathed in the ocean and built a campfire after dinner.

Day 3 on Masirah: our first official bike ride. We woke early and headed off down the road atop our bicycles, with plenty of water and tools packed on our backs. That day I ended up sticking with the students in the back of the line, and we rode about 25km total. We would have gone farther, but we had to be back for a lunch date. We had been invited by an Omani family to eat lunch at their home in the town at the northern end of the island.

The time that I spent with the bedouin family on Masirah has been the most exciting cultural exchange I've experienced since being in Oman. Upon arriving to their home, we received a warm welcome and were immediately divided into groups of males and females; the boys stayed on the rugs in the main room, the girls were led by the women in the group into a smaller room toward the back of the house where we sat in a circle on a rug. There was little to no furniture in the rooms, and the walls were nearly bare. The Omanis instead sat on Arabic rugs that covered the tile floors.

The conversation was slow - only a few of the women spoke some English, and none of us knew enough Arabic to maintain any type of interesting dialogue. Despite whether they knew English or not, the bedouin women were all talkative, eager to ask questions and to introduce themselves and their culture. They encouraged us to try unknown-to-us powders on our faces, charcoal on our eyes, and perfumes on our wrists. Their endless energy - and their eyes - swallowed me into a world of delight.

We ate lunch around trays of homemade rice topped with chicken, goat, and fish, followed by 2 or 3 dates for desert. After eating, we washed our hands in their outdoor spigot, then the women herded all of the ladies back into the back room, where they began applying henna to our hands and arms, dressed us in traditional Bedouin clothing, encouraged us to try on their burqas (masks) and charcoaled our eyes. The boys eventually got bored in the front room and came in to join us. The Bedouin children either crawled over our laps or stared at us from a distance, and at one point a few of them even began dancing to the traditional tunes played on the cell phones belonging to the adults in the room. The mother of the household was constantly at my side, reassuring herself that I was enjoying myself and speaking to me in Arabic as though I understood everything that she said. I was in heaven! After a couple of hours of this, we started signaling that we would need to be leaving soon. I tried to remove my Bedouin costume, but instead was told that it was a gift and that I should wear it proudly to remember them and my experiences with them in their home. I was honored. Before leaving, they held burning frankincense under my dress, letting the smells penetrate my clothing and skin; their version of deodorant. The clothes, now in my closet, still smell like frankincense. We were invited back the next day for dessert after dinner.

Day 4 on Masirah: Bike ride #2. This time we had time to go further, but we also started much later than the day before, so the heat posed a problem. We biked about 20km along the road in the opposite direction than the day before, looking for any type of shade we could find to rest under. No luck. On the way back, we took a quick stop on a beach at the end of a road, to rest and collect shells. This time I got to ride at the front of the group - much more my style of riding. :) It was exhilarating to ride as hard as I could, with the slight breeze evaporating any sweat from my body. Upon arrival to camp, we collapsed outside of a tent, in the shade, and waited as patiently as our hungry stomachs would let us, for lunch.

That afternoon Ray and I invited the students to go snorkeling - the water was crystal clear - and I would be following in the kayak. Only about 6 of the 16 mustered the energy to come along, so we headed out. The water felt wonderful with the afternoon sun beaming down. The students swam around and dove down to see corals, sea urchins and fish. Ray caught sight of a lobster hiding under a rock, so when it was my turn to swim instead of kayak, I went down to see it. All I could see was its long antennae sticking out. We continued snorkeling around, with Ray becoming more and more interested in that lobster. Finally he went to shore, hiked to his truck, and came back with a lobster-hook. Ray is an avid fisherman - he goes out nearly every weekend to some far-off beach to spend the days in his kayak with his fishing gear. He has crazy stories of being dragged for several kilometers by giant fish, and of being amongst schools of dolphins and whales. So when he went to get the hook, I knew to take him seriously.

By this time, the students had lost interest so it was just me in the kayak, and him with his mask, fins and hook, ready to catch a lobster. The first step was to find the right rock again - we had lost track of it in the time that he was getting his gear. Once we found it, Ray went down to try to hook the lobster and drag it from its hole. The lobster held his ground and would not be taken without a fight. Finally, on try number 4, Ray managed to free the lobster from his cover and bring him up to the kayak. It was beautiful! The colors seemed magical and the animal was huge. We figured out then that it wasn't actually a lobster but a painted crayfish (it didn't have the claws). With the creature safely in the back of the kayak, I paddled it to shore, and we packed it in ice in the cooler and the kayak back on the top of Ray's vehicle.

As this was our last night on the island, and we needed to catch the ferry early the next morning, we broke camp that evening and headed into town, to a hotel, before dinner. We ate some shwarma sandwiches for dinner, then headed back to the Bedouin family's home for dessert. Upon arrival, the women took a few of us ladies into the kitchen where we got to witness the preparation of the dessert: a floury paste with rose water, oil, saffron and sugar (amongst other things). Though still hot from the stove, we all ate the paste with our fingers, dipping them into the bowl one after another. We all remained outside in the yard during this visit, but the women were on one rug and the men on another. Conversations flourished and phone numbers were exchanged. I was encouraged to visit again soon, and we all left cheerful and exhausted. I slept well in the air conditioned hotel room.

The journey home was uneventful - the hotel owner had a connection with one of the ferry companies and reserved us space on the first one heading toward mainland. The highlight of the trip home was that there was a truck with 2 young camels in the back that we got to interact with during the ride on the ferry. We were home by 4pm, and I rode my bike from school, across the wadi, with all of my camping gear on my back and with the crayfish hanging over my handle bars.

That weekend I went with Miguel and Sarah to a beach called White Beach (near Wadi Tiwi and Wadi Shab, which I have mentioned in previous posts) where we camped on Thursday night. It was relaxing to be on the beach and to read undisturbed for as long as we wanted. Luckily come Saturday, we had a day off and Sunday was an inservice day. The three-day weekend was much-needed after an amazing, but draining, week away with the students.

James Blunt Concert & Canadian Stampede
While living in the Twin Cities and Madison, I took for granted the ability to see live music regularly, and that is one of the things I miss most since being here in Oman. So when the opportunity arose to see a live concert, I had to take advantage, even if I only knew one song by this particular artist, and he wasn't someone I necessarily cared for as a musician.

James Blunt coming to Muscat ended up being a big deal in the expatriate community. Most of my colleagues went to the show, and the audience itself was majority white people. Alcohol was served (which, as a reminder, is not common here - granted we were on hotel property) - you could buy buckets full of beer and ice, and some people brought their own wine. The gates opened at 6pm, but the show didn't start till 9pm (luckily I didn't get there till just after 7pm).

I turned out being impressed by James' performance - he was energetic, jumping around the stage and through the crowd, and he enthusiastically included the crowd in several of his songs. The crowd, too, the more intoxicated they became, showed their carefree enthusiasm in many different ways: singing, dancing, shouting... Then, come 10pm, James announced his closing song. "What! I paid nearly $40 to see this show, waited for 2 hours for it to start, and he is only going to play one set for one hour?!" (-thoughts going through my head). He played a 3 song encore, but that was it. I went home with mixed feelings; I was glad to have seen live music, to have danced with a jubilant crowd, but it didn't seem long enough - I had only started getting my feet wet.

The next big expatriate event, that had been talked up all school year by all of my colleagues, was the Canadian Stampede: a party hosted by a Canadian organization each year - this being the 16th year it has existed. This cowboy themed party includes a dinner of grilled chicken, chili and corn on the cob, an inexpensive bar open until 2am, a D.J. and line dancing lessons. Considering I am not an avid drinker or partier, I had my doubts on how much I'd enjoy myself at this supposedly-phenomenal party, but I was not let down. My favorite colleagues were all there, everyone was dancing, and I didn't stop moving until 2am when Lydia, the d.d. for the night, led me and our friend to her car. It was invigorating to be with great people with no qualms about moving to the beat of whatever the song happened to be. I love dancing.


And that brings me to the end of this long-overdue chapter in my ongoing novel that is my experience in Oman. The next chapter will be dedicated to my time in Spain, for spring break. I'll start working on it now, so that it gets posted before I end up being home for the summer!

Quick reflection on this posting: Finally writing about my experiences with the Bedouin family on Masirah reminded me about the reasons I chose to live overseas. I thrive on learning through experiences, as I believe most people do. I believe that experiential education should be at the center of our educational experiences, and I hope to develop that more and more into my curriculum as I learn to be a better educator.

I send my love and hugs to you all, and hope you're enjoying the spring. Spring here means it's getting too hot to be outside between the hours of 10am and 5pm. (Come summer, it will be too hot to ever be outside.) I'd love to hear updates whenever you get the chance to write. Until then, take care!

February in Oman (oh - and some of January in Qatar, AND the beginning of March); PART 1

It's been over a month since I last wrote. Yes, I've been busy, but the real reason that I haven't written isn't because of that; it's because I've been losing myself in books during all of my free time and not making time for my blog. (The main culprit is a novel called Shantaram, and I highly recommend it to those of you who have yet to read it.) So here I am, hunkering down to write (during one of my prep periods on Wednesday - right before my weekend).

Between my travels around Oman, outside of Oman, events at work, and events around Muscat, I have plenty to write about. I guess I'll start with the last weekend in January, when I went to a teaching conference in Doha, Qatar, and from there just stick to the highlights.

NESA Conference in Doha, Qatar
As most of you know, my weekends are on Thursdays and Fridays. There are very few countries in the world who still have this schedule. (In fact, the banks and some businesses in Oman switched their weekends to be Fridays and Saturdays so that they align better with the business world.) Because of this, it is difficult to attend weekend events in any other location outside of Oman without taking time off of work. When I heard about a weekend conference in Doha, Qatar for the last weekend in January, I checked the program description three times, making sure I was not going to be wasting my time writing sub plans. I requested time off and was all set to go to a workshop about curriculum planning, when Keith, my boss, informed me that I couldn't actually go to the workshop I had requested since I didn't have a team to go with. At that point, I was already registered for the conference, so I had to choose another workshop. I chose one on middle school literacy: the reader's and writer's workshops. As far as I was concerned, literacy education is relevant through all subject areas. I was not let down.

I went one day early to Doha (the conference was Friday and Saturday), since my weekend started Wednesday night and I wanted a day to explore the city. On Thursday morning, I walked around the bay of Doha, observing the construction, driving aggressions and buildings of Doha. The city is comparable to Muscat: construction everywhere, honking horns, fast and furious traffic, and all in a dry, desertous climate. Along the coast, fishermen were selling their daily catch, dhows were docked at a port, and the occasional walker was enjoying the well-maintained path along the water.

In December of 2008, Doha was in the news for the opening of the Islamic Museum of Art - the biggest museum of its kind in the world. The museum is built over the water and the architecture is phenomenal! After passing the security upon entering, I went to pay a fee and they told me that they do not charge. It only took me a second to remember that I'm in the Middle East and that the governments in most of these countries have plenty of resources to fund the construction of such things as 4-story art museums that display permanent and traveling exhibits on a wide variety of themes and with valuable pieces. And the entrance fee did not even come close to determining the quality of the experience; I learned more about Islam and Arabic history at the museum in 3 hours than I have learned by living and working in a(n expatriate) community in Oman (that could be because I just didn't know the right questions to ask). My favorite part of the museum was the architecture - it was a visually-pleasing blend of arches, stones and space. I would try to describe it more clearly, but I think pictures would do it a little more justice than my words.

After the museum, I also meandered down some other roads and managed to find the craft souq (market). Even though the souq in Muscat is a fantastic maze of never-ending stores and stands with friendly faces around every corner encouraging me to buy things that I don't really need, and I love it just like it is, I found the souq in Doha to be more pleasant. There was more space to walk, there were less store owners pushing me to buy things, and there were cafes all along the main stretch where passersby were encouraged to relax, buy some hot tea or coffee, smoke some sheesha, or munch on some hommus and Arabic bread. I ended up visiting the souq 4 times in 2 days.

Following my walk around a small portion of the city, I went back to the hotel, read for awhile, then met up with Julie - one of my colleagues who also went to Doha for the teaching conference. She and I went back to the souq, ate dinner together and came back to the hotel somewhat early. After a day of walking around Doha and taking in my surroundings, I crashed hard and slept like a rock in the air-conditioned hotel room.

The conference filled the rest of my time in Doha. I found my workshop to be extremely applicable in the language arts class that I'm teaching now. Since then, I have already implemented several of the ideas into my teaching. It was also nice to meet teachers that are located in schools around this region of the world. I heard stories, both good and bad, about a variety of schools and about people's experiences teaching overseas. In the end, I left enthusiastic about teaching and lucky to be at the school in Oman.

Muscat Festival
During the month of February, Muscat traditionally celebrates the city's culture and people through daily events in various parts of the city. The events range from: booths where you can by both fast food and traditional food; sections of fairgrounds dedicated to booths displaying or selling typical regional/national crafts; nightly dancing and singing; concerts; camel and horse racing; fireworks and laser light shows; skydive, jet ski and motorcycle demonstrations; public service campaigns; and... really, just about anything you can imagine having at a state fair in the States.

I went to the festival several times, the highlight being the day I went with Zach, Sarah and Miguel and saw a demonstration of a camel race. I spent 3 weeks straight, while Karen was visiting me, trying to figure out how to see a camel race, without success. And on the day I happened upon the Muscat Festival while I was out with Zach driving toward a small village west of Muscat, we were lucky enough to walk in on a race. I guess it wasn't the real thing, so doesn't necessarily count, but regardless, it was cool to see the camels in action. The riders also showed the camels off by putting them into poses and lining them up along the beach in various poses. I was thrilled!

International Day & Technology Classes
It seems that in the last 2 or 3 months, my job has become more and more time consuming. Or maybe I've just started feeling more at home here and less on vacation, so have been putting more energy into teaching. Or it could be that nearly all of my friends here are also my colleagues, and nearly everything we do together involves the school in some way. The school only encourages this behavior by doing things like organizing a few events and activities that are designed to bring the community together. One of the ones I've been most impressed with is the International Day.

International Day is an annual event where parent volunteers bring traditional dishes from their country of origin, set up booths to sell the food, then raise money for the school. Oh - and there is another section of booths where people sell their crafts and goods from their countries. The evening is also full of live entertainment, and is open to the entire Muscat community. Other schools bring groups to do dances, camels were brought in for the kids, and there is a raffle for prizes that, this year, included round-trip tickets to London. (I even won a lunch for two at an Arabic restaurant!) That night I spent nearly 2 hours walking in circles around the food booths, eating food from Thailand (pad thai), Malaysia (coconut rice with seafood peanut sauce), Brazil (dulce de leite desert), Colombia (fish empanada), Ecuador (ceviche de camaron), Korea (sushi), S. Africa (some kind of bean cake), Denmark (carrot cake!), North America (they were serving chili and cornbread, but I bought a rice crispie treat for later), Lebanon (cheesy Arabic bread with other herbs and spices) and.... I think that was everything that I tried. I'm probably forgetting something, but the point is: I ate a lot. And it was fantastic! I loved that the school was open to the community and that so many people and their loved ones came to participate in the festivities.

Another activity that the school provides, but this one just for the teacher communities, are the TTT courses: Teachers Teaching Teachers. I could have volunteered to teach one (and could get paid to do so) but I decided to just join a whole bunch of the ones the other teachers taught and see how it was done. At the beginning of the year I was in one called "Get Out and See Oman" that I think I wrote about in a previous email, and this semester I've been involved in 3 others, my favorite, so far, being a technology course. We've learned about the difference between the Internet in the past and Web2.0 now, starting wikis and blogs, using GoogleDocs and iGoogle, about RSS feeds and podcasting, and we will be learning about Twitters and Personal Learning Networks. !!! It's been so exciting for me, both personally and professionally; I've been getting excited about all the possibilities of how to incorporate all of these tools into teaching, but it's also just made my personal computer-life more accessible and rewarding. I've asked Eleanor, the instructor, if we can meet indefinitely, but unfortunately, she has a life and is unable. Thank goodness I will be starting another TTT course tomorrow; one about music appreciation, where at the end we go to see a performance by the Oman Symphony Orchestra! So cool!!

Okay - this is about half of what I was going to write... I'll post now and then get the other half up a.s.a.p. Stay tuned!!

2009 is here already?!

Greetings from Oman!!

I keep asking myself when I'll settle into Oman and stop having such a long list of things to write home about. It hasn't happened yet - I keep learning something every day or having some sort of experience that is completely new to me. This month's chapter includes more visitors, riding camels, dune bashing, the red tide, being objectified at a soccer game, and having a rain-day.

Brian's Arrival & the Desert
Karen and I spent a lovely Christmas, talking, visiting friends and eating well. We were both excited (and I was a little sad since Christmas marked the near-end to Karen's visit) that Brian would be arriving the next day. To celebrate, we made a delicious lunch with Nimmi - my friend from school who is teaching me to cook Indian meals - and went to get henna done with Lydia and her sister, Noelle.

The henna experience was interesting: we drove around for about 45 minutes looking for a beauty salon that would do henna, stopping at several different places to find that their signs were misleading and they didn't actually do henna, or to find that they were closed (it was Friday afternoon, afterall). Once we happened upon a place, it was, of course, packed. The shop was little and the walls lined with mirrors. Indian women were working hard to cut hair, straighten hair, pluck eyebrows & other facial hair using thread (called "threading"), and there was a special room in the back for women to get their legs, etc. waxed. The windows in the front of the store were lined with drapes so that nobody could see in, and the lack of circulating air meant that the place was alive with fumes and sprays. There were two young women that started decorating our arms/feet with henna; they moved quickly and creatively, obviously having practiced many times in the past. Neither of them spoke English very well, so our communication was very basic. But in the end, we had fun guessing at what words meant and laughing at our assumptions. I drove home carefully, trying not to smudge the henna on the palms of my hand as I shifted gears through traffic. The henna turned out great - Karen and I had orange hands and wrists for the next couple of weeks.

Brian arrived around 10pm that night, exhausted from a long journey. We exchanged Christmas presents, went to bed and awoke early the next day, packed our bags and headed toward the desert dunes of Wahiba Sands. It took us less time than I had predicted to get to the desert camp where we'd be staying for the night, so we made a quick decision to go see Wadi Bani Khalid that day instead of the next. We drove a few kilometers further than the turn-off to the camp, and followed the signs to the wadi.

We arrived to the start of our hike through the wadi after passing various construction vehicles that were building a road to the village throughout the the wadi. We were greeted by kids that offered to guide us to the pools in the wadi (for a price, I'm sure). We politely refused their offer and headed into the wadi ourselves. We soon found the pools that had been described in my book - but the water didn't stop at the pools; that was where it started. We kept hiking - Karen and I waded through the shallow parts of the pools (we were wearing sandals) and Brian strategically hopped boulders to keep up. The water was clear and the fish were healthy. Had we had more time, we would've swam, but the hike was gorgeous enough. We headed back toward the desert camp and arrived about an hour before sundown.

Our arrival to the camp was fun! We had to drive through the desert in between sand dunes, on loose sand. I kept the car moving quickly, as I was instructed by my colleagues, and we did not get stuck. We were greeted by a steep sand dune at the entrance into the camp, and that's where I let the professionals do the work. We got out of the car, walked up the hill and checked in. The men in the camp took my keys, backed my car about 100 meters from the bottom of the hill, then gunned the engine, pushing my Pajero hard up the hill and swerving at the top until the wheels were firmly on the sand again. When they asked if I wanted to take my own car dune-bashing, I laughed. Nope. I wanted to pay for the driver to take us in his car.

We checked out our tent for the night, had a bathroom break, and headed out for our dune-bashing excursion. An Omani man allowed us to pile into his Land Rover and the adventure began. We sped over and around sand dunes, stopping twice to get out and run around, barefoot, in the sand. The handles above the windows were either loose or completely disconnected, and the seats no longer locked into place. The seatbelts didn't work either (except for the driver's and front passenger's seat), so the ride was extra-thrilling. I was thoroughly impressed with our driver's ability to maneuver his car in such deep and loose sand. He dropped us off at the top of a dune, just above the camp, so that we could watch the sunset over the desert. What a great way to spend the holidays!! After a brilliant sunset, Brian sand-boarded down the dune to the camp, I gleefully ran down the dune, and Karen followed with the camera. We had about an hour to wait before dinner would be served.

Dinner was delicious: hummus, fresh veggies, pita bread, dal, grilled chicken and lamb, and a vegetable dish that included egg plant, potatoes, cloves and coriander. It was a traditional Omani meal, and all three of us had seconds. After dinner, we hung out in the communal "family room" tent until the bedouins came to play and sing some music. The music was upbeat, the crowd was happy, and eventually there was a large group up and dancing on the carpeted ground. I eventually left the crowd and headed off to bed, not forgetting to spend a moment staring at the star-filled sky before slipping into my thatched tent. It was a cold, winter night in the desert, and luckily I had two large blankets to keep me cozy.

The next morning we had a simple breakfast and were off to find the bedouins that offered camel rides. Brian, Karen and I found the camels (it wasn't hard - they were at the entrance of the camp, waiting for eager riders), and lucky for us, there were three of them, so we got to all ride at the same time. The ride itself was smooth and comfortable (and only lasted about 10 minutes - sufficient time to be on a camel :), but the mount and dismount were a little more awkward than, say, a horse ride. The camel starts in a "seated" position - with both front and back legs under its body - then, on the command of the bedouin, raises first its back legs, then front legs to standing. My camel was a little slow to raise its front legs, so I got to sit, balancing, with the camel kneeling to the sand gods, for what seemed like a long time. The dismount was similar - luckily, Brian got video footage of it all. :) I'll try to figure out how to post my video to my blog so that you can all be as amused as I was.

After the camel ride, we were satisfied with our desert-stay and decided to continue our journey. We took an alternate route home, that led us to the coast and to Wadi Shab (again) so that we could hike in and swim through the pools into the glowing cave. Karen wasn't feeling well, so she didn't swim. Brian and I had excellent timing - there were no Omanis or tourists in the pools while we were there. Upon entering the cave, we decided to climb up the waterfall, explore the wadi beyond the cave, then return to jump into the pool from the edge of the waterfall. It was way less intimidating when there weren't Omani boys hanging around every corner like there were when Karen and I went earlier in the month. Brian and I both enjoyed the swim and hike immensely.

We headed back into Muscat after our hike, and after showering and helping Karen pack her bags, went to dinner at the Turkish House (the restaurant with the amazingly fresh fish), made one last stop for Karen at Lulu's Hypermarket, then brought her to the Muscat International Airport. I didn't want to say goodbye...

Brian and I came home, and after realizing we were too tired to plan the rest of his stay, decided to go to bed and figure out the rest in the morning. After much deliberation, we decided to go to Massirah Island until New Year's Eve.

Massirah Island & New Year's
We packed that day - the 29th - and headed out before 1pm. The drive was not as interesting as the first time I went, perhaps because I had slept half the drive when I rode with Jenelle and this time I drove the whole way. But it was certainly easy to speed; the road was flat and straight once we were out of the mountains. (*Note: Most cars sold here have a built-in bell or signal that provides an annoying, non-stop reminder when the driver is going over 120km/hr. Ding, ding, ding, ding... Brian and I learned that if we turned the radio up, we could drown out the bell.) Massirah is located on the east coast of Oman, about a five hour drive from Muscat. We arrived to the coast around 5:30pm, but the sun had already set and we were not going to be able to catch a ferry over to the island. So instead, we took a right turn off the road and drove on the sand/salt road over the salt flats of the peninsula Barr al Hikman until we could see the ocean. The drive was crazy! I followed a set of tire tracks, in the dark (I couldn't see past the headlights), for an hour to reach the ocean. Once we got to the ocean, we felt weird intruding on the fishermen at their huts, so we drove about a kilometer back on the tracks, pulled off, and set up camp. We made a delicious dinner of avocado and fish tacos, and then attempted to pass my new LED Frisbee back and forth, but couldn't see each other well enough to aim. So instead, we distracted ourselves with trying to take pictures of the stars by manipulating our cameras' shutter speeds, etc. Eventually we pulled out our sleeping bags on the wadi mat, layed down, but realized that it was still too early to sleep. We debated reading for a while, but I had left my headlamp at the desert camp, so I would've had to read by LED Frisbee light. Instead, we took out Brian's new Ipod Touch, and watched a few episodes of TedTalks. I couldn't believe we were watching TV while camping on the middle of a salt flat, next to the ocean, with no other amenities for miles around. I couldn't help but laugh.

We awoke early the next morning (before the sun) and found ourselves in a cloud of fog. We wanted to catch the earliest ferry to Massirah, so we packed up camp (it's easy when all you have to do is fold up a mat and stuff the sleeping bags to dry in the back seat), and drove the hour off the peninsula. Unfortunately, we still couldn't see anything because the fog around us was so thick, so the drive was actually more difficult than the night before. But we made it back to the highway and continued on to board the ferry. Luckily, we did not have to wait in line, and we were one of the last vehicles on the boat, so we didn't have to wait on the boat for it to leave the dock. Brian and I ate some granola for breakfast while we waited for the ferry to leave, then stayed comfortable and cozy in the Pajero, reading, while the ferry made its hour-long journey to Massirah.

Massirah Island was much less crowded than the first time I went. We drove along the coast, around much of the island, hardly seeing anyone else the entire morning. Unfortunately, though, we soon discovered that the red tide had followed us all the way to the island. We found some beautiful white-sand beaches that even had shade-shelters, but we couldn't stand the smell of rotting fish in the ocean. The red tide, I had learned before we left, is an algal bloom that blocks the sunlight from reaching deep into the water and therefore suffocates the life below it, and it has been happening for centuries. Apparently it used to be known as "the menstruation of the sea." But this year, due most likely to pollution and misuse of the ocean, the bloom is lasting much longer than its normal week. Around lunch time we found a little cove on the south end of the island that was red-tide-free, we had a simple lunch then hung out at the ocean for a couple of hours. We explored the tidal pools and found a variety of creatures: starfish, sea cucumbers, anenomes, cephalapods and hermit crabs. We threw a frisbee and swam in the clear water. It was exquisite. As the sun got lower in the sky we decided we should find a place to set-up camp. We packed up our cooler and drove along the southern edge of the island until we found a dune we could drive and hide behind. We went shell-collecting as the sun set over the ocean; another phenomenal day.

The next morning, Brian and I decided over breakfast that we were going to find the highest point on the mountain range on the island and hike up it. We followed the description as best we could in the guidebook, which took us off-roading for quite a while. There was a point where my Pajero could go no farther, and that's where our hike began. We started our hike around 10am, so by the time we got to the top of the mountain, the sun was beating down on us hard. And, to no one's surprise, there were no trees or even bushes, to block the heat. The view from the top, though, made the hike worth it. The way down was challenging - as much of the terrain was loose rock and gravel, but we made it. We drove, again, to the ocean, waded in to cool down, then headed back to the ferry to make our way home. Brian got to see camels, flamingos and starfish, all in their element.

We got back in time to clean up, then head to my friends', Ryan's and Eleanor's, home. We ate a lovely taco dinner with them and their friends who work in an international school in Turkey. Afterward, we headed up to their roof to watch a movie that Eleanor projected onto the wall, while we waited for the clock to tell us that it was 2009. Given all the hiking and driving we had done, Brian and I didn't stay long after the clock ticked midnight.

The Grand Mosque & Veronica's Arrival
The next morning was a Thursday, the 1st, when Veronica (a friend of mine from Madison) and her friend, Erin, would be arriving. Brian and I spent the day seeing the Grand Mosque, eating lunch at a delicious cafe (D'Arcy's), grocery shopping, and swimming in the pool at my school. We picked up Veronica and Erin that night, again at 10pm, brought them home and were in bed a little after midnight.

Our goal was to wake the next morning by 5:30 and be heading to the goat market in Nizwa by 6:30... That didn't happen. Instead, we left Muscat by 8am, and got into Nizwa by 10am to catch the end of the market. We explored Nizwa, seeing the cattle being sold at the market, trying dates, pricing the crafts, and finally, touring the Nizwa Fort Museum. For lunch we pulled off a small highway and had a picnic under a tree, then headed off to find the Tanuf hike. Unfortunately, we followed a gravel road a long way up a mountain side, and saw no end to it, which threw us off and caused us to turn around. We never found the wadi hike, but we did stop at the ruins before heading back to Muscat.

Once back to the city, we headed directly to the Muttrah Souq, where we opted to do the Riyam hike instead of shop at the souq. The hike took about an hour; at the end (where Karen and I had seen the wadi puppies) we walked through a part of town where a group of about 8 young kids started chanting to us, "How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you?" The repetition continued and faded behind us as we walked away from them, toward the souq. Right outside the souq, we sat outside at a restaurant and splurged on some fresh lime and mint juice (a typical Omani drink-of-choice), then walked back along the bay to our car.

We hurried back to my house and changed our clothes, only to depart again toward a popular restaurant here called Kargeen's, where they serve a couple of Arabic dishes and have wonderful atmosphere. We were meeting Lydia, her parents, and another of my colleagues, Tommy. We had a lovely dinner, then had no problem sleeping through the night. I hoped that the busy day allowed Veronica and Erin to get over jetlag quickly.

Unfortunately, the next morning - Saturday the 3rd - I had to go back to work, so Veronica and Erin were going to be on their own.

School Again
I awoke early so that I could go to school and frantically prepare for the next two days, while I would still have guests. Brian got up an hour after I did and met me at the front gate of my school at 8am; he was going to be joining me and finding out just what I do at work every day. Class started at 8:30 - language arts with my homeroom class. We started with introductions and a few stories about what everyone had done over winter break. It didn't take long for Brian to join the sixth graders in cracking jokes and raising his hand to answer questions. The class went smoothly. :) At 9:50am (we use a rotating block schedule at my school so classes are 80-90 minutes each) we hurried downstairs for the weekly middle school assembly where we heard a presentation about why we should reduce the number of plastic bags we are using, and other announcements. Then Brian and I headed directly back to the classroom for class number two of the day: science. This was Brian's big debut - I was going to be introducing our next unit in science (earth science) and I had offered him the opportunity to do a demonstration for the class. He tackled the challenge successfully, even using the SmartBoard, not missing a beat. He'll make a great science teacher some day.

While Brian and I were at school, Veronica and Erin were finding out the hard way that it is nearly impossible to travel around Muscat (or any parts of Oman) without a car. I had given them a number to a taxi, and number to a rental car service, and a map of Muscat. They had plans of going to the Grand Mosque and perhaps to some museums, but their plans did not work out as smoothly as predicted. They did not make it to the mosque because they had slept in too late, then didn't know where to meet the taxi that they had called. They tried walking to a gas station about a kilometer from my neighborhood, but turned back when they realized that they didn't know where they were going, only to get turned around in my neighborhood, unable to find my apartment building. When they finally made it back, they called a different taxi service, met the taxi in front of my school, and rode to the airport. At the airport they opted to rent a car so that they could go anywhere they wanted for the next day and a half before heading to Dubai. The rental car turned out to be a cheaper option, too, than taking a taxi. Once they were out and about, they got turned around due to the lack of street signs... or any signs. I guess I hadn't explained that the only way to find anything around here is to use landmarks - but landmarks that are constantly changing because of all of the development that is happening so quickly in Oman. They did make it to Lulu's Hypermarket, where they bought some food for a late lunch, then made it back to my place by 4pm when I was done with work. They met me at school, took a quick tour of my school and classroom, and told me about their day of adventures. I am completely impressed with their perserverance and problem solving. I'm not sure I would have been laughing so soon after such a hectic and confusing day.

That evening we drove back to the old part of Muscat and spent some time in the Muttrah Souq. Brian was on a quest for some traditional Omani treasures, and I think we were all successful at finding something special. We drove and saw the state palace, then headed home where I prepared dinner while Brian packed his bags. I brought Brian to the airport around midnight and he continued his journey toward India, where he was taking a two week class on outsourcing. When I got back home, I stayed up until about 1:30am talking with Veronica and Erin, then we all crashed for the night. I got up and went to work the next morning, saying goodbye to Veronica and Erin as they were going to be catching a bus that afternoon to Dubai. They did make it to the Grand Mosque that morning, and to a museum before returning their rental car and taking a taxi to the bus station. They were also moving on to take a two week class in Dubai for their business school degrees.

As much as I enjoyed having guests, I was relieved to spend Sunday night all by myself in my apartment. I went to bed by 8pm, but still managed to get sick with a head cold the next day. I went to bed early every night that week.

Oman vs. Iraq in the Gulf Cup
Come Wednesday afternoon, I had rested plenty and was excited to see my friends who had been gone over break. So I planned, with a couple of my girlfriends here, to go see the Oman versus Iraq soccer game.

Oman has been hosting the Gulf Cup this year, and the stadium is a mere 20 minute walk from my apartment. Sensing the high demand that the Omanis would present to see the games, the government attempted, for the first time ever, selling tickets (for 200 baizas/person = 50 cents/person) in order to control crowds. The ticket-plan failed miserably; too many people were trying to scalp their tickets outside the stadium on game day. Therefore, come the Wednesday game (which was game number 2 in the series), we would have to wait in line to get to the first-come, first-served seats. Lucky for us, we are female. There is a section of the stadium reserved for men, one for families, and one for women. So the five of us figured we'd have no problem getting in, even if we got there just an hour before game time.

As we began our hike to the stadium, Shawna, one of the five of us, got a call from her husband. He was with his friends, already at the gate, and they couldn't get in because the men's section was at capacity. He asked how many of us were in our group - five. "Perfect, there are five of us! Will you five pretend to be our spouses for the night so we can all get into the family section?!" We debated amongst the five women, but then agreed to meet them.

Upon arrival to the stadium we had no trouble finding our 5 husbands-for-the-evening. They hurried us toward the front of the crowds of men that were all trying to get in the gates. Brady (who is actually Shawna's husband) was partnered with me for the entrance. He helped me push through the men, only to get stopped in the smelly crowd when they were too tight together in front of us to continue. That's when I noticed it; the hand on my butt. I tried moving over, but the culprit only held on. I turned around, fuming. The drunk-looking man behind me pulled his hand away, but was not discreet about it. Brady was aware of what happened, but didn't know what to do, and neither did I. I stopped myself from slapping the man, and instead angrily told him to not touch me. The guy turned around and snickered with his friends. Luckily, another man, an Omani sitting on a fence, saw what happened and was also upset. So he quickly forced other people to move out of my way and helped me to push closer to the front of the gate.

Brady and I barely made it through the crowd into the stadium. The guards saw that I was a woman and reluctantly let the two of us through - we met up with the rest of our group. When the guards opened the gates, they had to hold back the men that resentfully muttered angry words about how us Westerners were allowed in but the Omanis were not. It was the first time that I have felt so objectified and resented since I have been here. It was not an ideal way to start the evening. Luckily, though, the game was exciting and Oman beat Iraq 4 to 0. It was exciting to be in a completely-packed stadium where the spirit was high. We must have done the wave 10 times by the time Sarah and I left early. On the walk home, Sarah and I received plenty of whistles, inappropriate comments and, of course, blatant stares. I guess football/soccer brings out the best and worst in men...

Oman has continued winning all of their games and will play in the finals on Saturday. Unfortunately, though, I will be unable to attend the game since we have an inservice all afternoon. But that's okay - I don't mind going to a friend's house or to a restaurant where all the TVs will be tuned to the game and the crowds will be less obnoxious. Go Oman!

School Cancelled Due to Severe Weather
Well, I will conclude this chapter with a quick story about how I managed to enjoy a 3-day weekend this week. On Monday last week, all of the staff were warned of potential rain storms this weekend, but I honestly did not expect anything too severe; I live in the desert afterall, and last time it "rained," it was only a few sprinkles. But on Tuesday night I found out what storms can do to an ill-prepared city. Tuesday night, around 10:30pm, I finally convinced myself that I should stop reading the book that I was into and go to bed since the next morning I would have to wake up by 5am to go to the strength training class that I've been attending. But I was quickly distracted from sleep by the light from the lightning bolts that was filling my windows. I heard lots of noise outside and went to the window to figure out what was going on. I opened the window and was immediately engulfed with a clowd of sand in my face. I closed the window and walked around the house, making sure all of my windows were closed. Soon after, the rain started. It rained and the wind blew fiercly, for hours. My windows banged and my fans spun out of control. I decided that since I wasn't going to sleep anyway, I should just keep reading. :) Around 11:30pm, I got a text from my trainer and she said that her house had flooded so she was canceling class for the next morning. About 10 minutes later I got another text, this time from the school's director: school had been canceled for the next day. I couldn't believe it! School canceled because of rain?! I turned off my alarm clocks and eventually slept.

The next day (Wednesday) I hung out indoors most of the morning, watching the rain continuously fall and create mud puddles around the neighborhood. It turned out my windows had leaked, too, and I had puddles to mop up in the two bedrooms in my apartment. Come afternoon, I got a call from Lydia and we decided to go for a drive with her (new!) Omani boyfriend, Hilal, so that I could meet him. We drove around, seeing the waterfalls that had formed overnight in the mountains and driving through deep puddles where water collected on the roads. He told me all about the Sultan (he is a lieutenant in the Oman military and has met the Sultan on various occasions), and was proud to show us hidden hot springs just a few kilometers from my neighborhood. I also drove, later that day, on a road where I saw workers pumping water from one side of the road to the other. I couldn't help but laugh - apparently not a lot of thought goes into preparing for rain when constructing anything in Oman. It turns out the two gyms at my school also flood when it rains, so workers get to spend all day and night pushing water out of the back door of the school as the rain continues falling. It rained some more yesterday afternoon and evening, so the city is still wet. I guess rain in this quantity only happens, at most, once a year, so it is quite a hectic phenomenon when it does.


Well, I hope you have all enjoyed reading yet another excerpt from my life in Oman. I have just another 10 weeks straight of teaching before spring break, when I will be heading to Bali, Indonesia for a week. Then just a few more weeks before I get to finally head home to the States and see friends and family. I've heard that it is extremely cold in the Midwest - I hope you are all keeping warm with your loved ones close. I love hearing from you! Keep happy and keep smiling!!