Jerash Day 15

Jerash and Amman

We got up early today and took one of Amman’s infamous mini-busses to the city of Jerash which is a few dozen kilometers away from Amman. Jerash is the site of an ancient Roman city which was taken over by Umayyans and eventually destroyed and ruined.

The mini-bus was an exceptional experience. It was something that seemed distinctly Jordanian. The busses are the size of large vans and can hold maybe 15 or more people. The bus won’t leave the depot until it is basically full, but we were able to get to a distant city for .400 JD which is about a dollar. The drivers are swarthy and wild and every bus is different with all types of decorations and interiors. Traveling up and down the tight mountain passes in a stuttery jalopy is something that everyone should try at least once.

Jerash was nice, big but nice. I can’t say it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, but it was very impressive none-the-less. Jordan is pretty much stuffed with ancient ruins and things to see and do, but there is something strange about their historical sites that I can’t quite put my finger on. All of the places we’ve gone so far are wide open, huge, and almost entirely open to the public. Occasionally, you might find a few barred areas, but at least in Jerash, you could walk almost anywhere. It’s actually really fun if you are adventurous, active, and willing to explore.

A temple of some sort. I think the holes were for fountains. Fantastic stonework on the pillars and plinths.

Meredith and Lynn heading toward the main gate of the city.

Two examples of the amazing mosaic work all over Jordan. Notice the pictures-- on the left there is a jar being filled with water and a big lush tree. On the right a gazelle leaping and what looks like a type of duck. This stuff was just sitting out in the sun. I probably could have danced a jig o nit, but obviously that would have been naughty.

Another thing about Jordanian tourism is that almost all of these sites are undergoing excavations. They also reconstruct sections of the ruins in order to support the buildings and protect them from further ruin. It’s strange because some of the reconstructed stuff looks really good, while other bits don’t look as good. What happens is that the reconstructed parts are almost too perfect where the old things are worn and uneven.

There were cool mosaic tiles in one room, and a groovy temple in another place. Don’t get me wrong, the place is amazing, it’s just that there’s so much to see and not really any consistent and organized information about it all. We were talking about how many different people have passed through this region, and how current the history of Jordan really is—the ancient past is still happening here in a way. If I compared England to Jordan strictly as a sight-seeing tourist, I would say that the things England has over Jordan are the organized tour guides, well marked placards and things like that, and this sort of overarching view of the nation’s history. In Jordan, it’s a bit confusing as to who did what when and where. I guess it’s important to remember that this country has been almost completely nomadic for most of its history, so there were different types of people all over the place. If history is something that you really love, I think I would suggest picking an era, or a group (i.e. Umayyans, Crusaders, Nabataens, Israelites, Mamluks, the great Sal-a-Din) and trying to piece together their individual history rather than seeing everything all jumbled together.

We had a nice buffet after walking all over the place. I’m sure we put down at least 5 or 6 km.

Amman -Day 14 Suha's clubhouse and family

After a little break at Al Manar hotel, we caught a cab to visit our friend Suha at her Computer Clubhouse. This is the point at which I need to tell you all a bit about the Intel Computer Clubhouse Network and the job Suha and I do.

Here's the link to the official site if'n y'all want: :-P

The Clubhouse is a place for disadvantaged youth to get a head start on computers and technology by learning through creativity and innovative play. We have music recording, video, digital photography and Photoshop, flash and other 2-D and 3-D animation, game making, and a host of other digital gems. The clubhouse network was developed by Intel and the Boston Museum of Science and there are locations all over the world. There are numerous opportunities for the different coordinators to meet, though traveling abroad is, of course, all on my own dime. The beautiful think is that I can go almost anywhere in the US or abroad and know someone.
There is also a clubhouse in Rumullah and the coordinator, Rana invited us to visit, but the situation there wasn't good for traveling and we had limited time and funds as well.

SOOOO, without going to far into detail about the clubhouse, I went to Jordan to visit Suha and see how her clubhouse and kids work. It was pretty great. First of all, her members are WAY more well behaved than mine. The difference is night and day. Secondly, they are Adobe Flash masters. Thirdly, well, it was just a beautiful experience and I wish I could have stayed much longer.

Since I don't really know what to say about it, I'll post some photos...

Here's a nice pic of the members in Jordan. This is pretty common to the types of projects the kids do. A lot of my members like to take their face and paste it onto someone else's body. Some like to change backgrounds or have themselves sitting in a car or mix up some anime characters into a collage. One thing that all of these kids seem to like is Anime. The girls at suha's clubhouse had amazing drawing and animating skill.


Princess Basma center was built by King Hussein II, I think, for his mom. She was apparently a big advocate for women's rights and in honor of her, King Hussein II built this center. The clubhouse is one of a number of programs in this building most of which are focused on women's empowerment and equity.

Here's Suha in her office. On the walls around her are more examples of member art projects. She gave us a number of greeting cards her members had made for Ramadan. It's a great idea to make something like that--very niche.

Here am I standing next to a dead computer. I think I had gestured at looking at it, but things went to quickly for me to do anything but say, "Ahh...oooh." More examples of art on the walls. I think the one highest on the pillar is a picture of the current Queen Rania. I'm jealous... they have a map. You can also see all of the computers around the room. They are set up in a way that is supposed to promote interactivity between the members rather than privacy.


Me and Suha


After the clubhouse we walked down the street to Suha's house for dinner. Someone said this neighborhood wasn't that nice,but I couldn't tell. Compared to Roger's Park this place is paradise, well, without the greenery.

Suha's mother and sister cooked for us one of the best meals we'd had the whole time. I had about 3 pounds of stuffed grape leaves I think. After dinner we retired to the TV room for some tea and then we went outside. Basically, there was a lot of meeting the family members and pleasant conversation. Eventually, I was mobbed by the children because kids love me. :)

Amman -Day 14 Sightseeing in the morning

Today we cruised around Jordan. We went to the market downtown, Jabal el Qala an old ruin on the highest hill, and a peek into the old Roman Amplitheatre. All of this was before 1pm. Then we went to the hotel, refreshed and went to Suha's Computer Clubhouse. Here's a few select pictures of the morning:

panoramic shot of Jabal El Qala


the other half...imagine them together


Ancient stonework. Looked like the tree of life to me


Some more ancient stonework. The Jordanians have been restoring sections of all of their historical sites. I believe this is mostly in order to maintain the ruins and keep them from deteriorating, but there are also reconstructed areas that have been done to show the original look of the place. You may see a building with a dome on it in this section of pictures. The dome is a modern structure fitted over the building to a) protect it and b) demonstrate how they believe it looked 2000 years ago. Unfortunately, the modern masonry is inferior to the ancient stonework and in many areas it is quite obvious that it has been retouched.

A zesty panoramic of the ruins


Meredith by a ruined building in Jordan

Meredith and Lynn walking down the mountain toward the Amplitheatre


a shot at the Amplitheatre. We didn't feel like paying to go in as we were already walked out for the morning.


We had lunch in a little restaurant above the street. It was the day they sentenced one of Sadam's main henchmen to death. We did a wee bit of shopping after lunch and I got a few nice trinkets for my lady friends back home (Rrrraaar!)

Travelling to Jordan- Day 13

The trip to Jordan was...well, let's just say it was a day. We flew to Qatar and then to Amman. I'd rather not say much about the flight, we were glad to be in Jordan.

Jordan is pretty much 180 degrees from the UAE. First of all everything has a look of being heavily used, whereas in the UAE everything is practically brand new. Also, there are very few people wearing Khandoras and the other traditional Arab type garb. Pretty much everyone wears western style clothing and the Muslim women get by with a simple Hijaab.

We were in pretty high spirits when we arrived in Amman, and after getting through customs pretty quickly caught a cab and headed to our hotel. The currency exchange rate is the opposite of the UAE as well. Instead of getting more for your buck like in the UAE, you get a Jordanian Dinar for about $.70. It's just enough to be annoying when you are trying to buy stuff, because at first everything seems a little cheaper, but then you realize it's actually more expensive.

We got to the hotel, chilled for a bit and then my friend Suha showed up with her cousin Raith (pardon the transliteration) and a bouquet of flowers. She didn't recognize me as I had a hat on and a beard, but I recognized her right away. We went up to the hotel room, which might have been a weird scenario (unmarried women + unmarried men + hotel room = HARAM!) but since there was a whole gang of us no one felt uncomfortable, I think.

Al Manar hotel in Amman- very nice place. They have a bar too!


Anyway, we chatted it up for a bit, told them about the UAE, showed some pictures, etc. Then we went out and walked around the town. Of course, now that it's a month later (forgiveness I beg!) I can't remember the name of the neighborhood, but it was pretty close to downtown and the main bustop in the north of the city.

We wandered and talked and wandered and went to an outdoor restaurant. We learned about Zingers (chicken sandwiches with spicy mayo or something) and the difference between middle eastern cocktails and western cocktails (alcohol--an arabic word, btw) Then we had some ice cream and called it a night.

Some skaters in the park near the Pun Directory Computer Super Store


Me and Raith after Zingers, chips, and a cocktail...maybe it was before

Ras Al Khamia- Day 12 Last Wedding!

After Sulaimon's wedding a few of our guys' Dubai friends showed up so we hung around while they ate. When they were finished we went to Le Meridian for some coffee. We got a few looks as we all sauntered in in our khandouras etc. The coffee was nice, they talked some shop and we set off to pick up my sister and Lynn so we could go to our final hotel of the UAE leg of the trip.

Stuff happened, not much to mention, but we went to Sulaimon's house, picked up the ladies, and said goodbye to Sulaimon and his family. It might be a long time until we meet again, so it was a heartfelt goodbye as Sulaimon has been a great friend to us and has basically become a part of our family. You read all this stuff about accepting people as surrogate brothers and sisters and merging families, but in many ways, in deference to the cliche, this is exactly what coming here has felt like. We have both supported each other as we lived on foreign soil and when you are alone in a strange place and someone takes the time to take care of you, it is something that you never forget--and if you do you should be damned for it. I sincerely hope I never forget what true kindness and hospitality are and when it is my turn to offer it I come through.

SO! We sped away from the beautiful little town of Dibba and headed into Ras Al Khaima, the last of the Emirates on our list. I can't remember the name of the Hotel we stayed at that night, it had a neat fascade, but the cracks had been begun to show and the rooms had begun to stink. I don't remember the name of this place, but I call it the Hotel-Where-Middle-Aged-Australians-Go-To-Die. There were no beautiful people here, though the barmaid was cute...

Regardless, we stayed only long enough for our firends to go and pray at the local mosque and for us to prepare for the final wedding of our trip. Like a complete douche, I forgot my camera so the only picture I have of this evening is this:




The full get-up, yo.

My sister and Lynn went with Jaber and Abdullah, and I went with Omar and a really great guy (the only one in the UAE who actually wore his wedding ring, btw) who I can't remember his name at the moment. I think it might have been Ahmed, so for now I'll go with that. Please forgive me for my poor memory.

On the way to the wedding Ahmed was asking me a number of questions about how traffic laws work in the states. I was glad to answer them with as much honesty as I could muster. I told him that In order to insure that people wear their seatbelts the police do random roadblocks throughout the city and suburbs. He said they did checks too, bu they advertised them a week before doing them. DUH!

I also told him that the police write tickets almost every time they pull someone over for doing something wrong, now this was a little bit of a fib, because as I look back, there are probably a dozen times I got off with just a warning (including the time I went driving on the sidewalk in Naperville) but at the same time, it was easily just as frequent that I got tickets for blowing stop signs and speeding. In the UAE, I get the feeling they almost never write tickets and just give everyone warnings. "Well," I explained, "How do you expect anyone to learn a lesson if never even slap their hands?"

I may have mentioned it before, but all of the Emiratis we know are police officers, and not just street enforcers, actual officers in the Ministry of the Interior. They are responsible for generating statistics, analyzing the data, and setting policy, and it was great to think that I might have some effect on the driving safety of the UAE. Ahmed was genuinely interested in the advice I had, and I described how every state has its own driving qualifications and laws, but they are united under a federal statue meaning that licences in any state are effective in all of them as well as there being a continuity in driving conditions throughout the states. I also explained how our testing works and the fact that a test must be taken every 5 years or so in order to keep your licence. This was a revelation to him, it seemed, yet something that I believe makes perfect sense and might be the only way to ensure that people don't forget how to drive. I thought things were a little risky and dangerous in the UAE, but I hadn't gotten to Jordan yet...

So we arrived at Hammoudi's wedding after a few mis-turns and walked up to the dancing area. We went around the whole floor and shook hands with every person we saw. I think most of them might have been related, but there were also, probably, some dignitaries and such there as well. The UAE is small, and our friends are fairly respected individuals. In fact, at Sulaimon's wedding, earlier in the day, the top general in the Ministry of the Interior had been seated at the same table as me!

After greeting everyone, and seeing Abdullah Hammoudi's father--Mr. Hammoudi?-- we shuffled off to the back of the pack. This was very clever because now we didn't have to shake ands and stand up everytime someone new arrived. It's interesting to watch everyone shake hands because, though it's pretty much the universal greeting, it's also sort of second hand here in the gulf. The way that men who are acquainted greet each other is by touching noses and making little kissing sounds. Yes, I know what you're thinking, but honestly, here it doesn't seem wrong. It's just how everyone says hello. They kept telling me not to do this in the US, and I kept saying, "no kidding.

Hammoudi's father kept coming up to us and bringing us drinks and Harise (which, honestly, I detest); he showered us with generosity as is expected of the father on his son's wedding day, but I felt like we might have gotten special attention from him. I must admit it is nice to feel like the 'most-honored' guest. :)

We moved to a cooler spot and there were two guys in western attire so the guys told me to go talk it up with them because they might have been American. "Naw," I said,"They're Germans." Somehow I was right. I struck up a conversation with them and they turned out to be Germans working for the German foreign service--diplomats. It was interesting to talk to guys who traveled around representing their government. they were positioned in Abu Dhabi, the capital and the older of the two had lived in the States for a number of years and had a flawless American Accent, which, I might point out is not that bad of a thing. Americans spend so much time bashing themselves they often forget that they have good characteristics as well. I have to admit talking to them was inspiring, and couple with something else I heard recently, the foreign service seems like a cool career. It fosters a spirit of amicable dissent and when I think of how terrible our president has been, I also think that there could probably not be a better way to counter this than by having really great people working for the State Department...maybe I'll send in an application.

After a brief conversation, with the diplomats and a gentleman who actually practiced medicine in Naperville of all places, Hammoudi's uncle Ahmed, who we'd hung out with earlier in the week, came up to me with some gifts for myself and the ladies. It was good to see him again because we'd struck up a good friendship the other day. He apologized for not calling, but he had stuff to do in Muscat, Oman which had kept him away. He and the other guys saw me bobbing my head to the music and they said I should go up and dance. Of course I felt a bit shy about that, but eventually they coaxed me into it. Ahmed gave me his walking cane and showed me how to spin it (which, I must say, I was born to do apparently). Then, as is customary, we walked hand-in-hand around the dancefloor I spinning the cane, and he spinning a plastic gun he had pilfered from one of his little nephews.

I have to admit it was cool. There was a camera filming the whole thing, and all of the Emiratis who saw me had to do a double take because at first they thought I was an Arab, but then they realized I was european or something. It seemed like a really great way to honor my friend; I hope he gets to see me on the tape. I might get a copy of it too.

After dancing, and sweating, I sat down for a minute to the approving laughs and smiles of my friends. A second later, Hammoudi's father came and ushered us into the banquet room--first ones. It was obvious we were the honored guests here tonight.

The dinner was enormous, probably 500 men, and as many or more women, though I had no way of knowing. We ate joyfully, and after about 15 minutes the dinner was over and everyone was on the way out. I said a heartfelt 'Mabruk-Ma Sha Allah' to Hammoudi's father and then hit the road back to the hotel. It was another hour and half before the ladies came back. I had a drink in the bar with the cute bar tender anda cheeezy pop duo from amnsterdam.

Gotta go.

An Honest Endeavor

Ok, it is now undeniable that I am back in the United States, and what's worse, my blog is barely half finished. I'm missing photographs, video caps, and I haven't even gotten to the last leg of my trip.

So, for the sake of honesty, I will admit to you, my humble and faithful reader that this is no longer the fresh spring chicken of today, but the mouldering remembrances of two weeks ago. Forgive me, but understand it's all or nothing now, and you can either hear the end of my tale or dismiss me as a craven lout.

From this point on I will continue to put my memories down in the order I experienced them. Some post might be genuine (having been typed in Jordan and posted here days later) and some posts may be fabricated on the spot with only my tattered memory and digital photographs to carry their truth.

Please understand there was never any intention to mislead you....

Powered by ScribeFire.

Fujiera and Ras Al Khaima- Day 12 More weddings!

Hello

Today I went to two weddings. The first was Sulaimon's which I was under the impression I was going to miss. Apparently, his 'male' wedding was today, while his 'female' wedding was sometime in the future-- the 29th I think.

Anyhow, we woke up at Seaside, our quaint hotel/apartment, and Jaber and Abdullah came by to collect me and take me to the weddings. My sister and Lynn were going to be dumped at Sulaimon's house to sit with the ladies while we men had us a pah---tay!

We headed to the wedding around 1pm and when we got there, everyone was crammed into a freestanding building that was basically a banquet hall. We waited in the lobby for a few minutes, where I met a guy who is going to school in Toronto. I don't remember what his realtion to the whole thig was, but it was nice to have a quick chit-chat about stuff North-American.

After a few minutes, we headed into the dining room. Jaber, Abdullah and I all got to sit at the table of honor. The food was served, and after ten minutes everyone was done eating and gone. These weddings are crazy I tell you! Apparently, there was going to be dancing and coffee later in the evening, but I had another wedding to go to.

More about that later...



Sulaimon at his wedding feast. No girls Allowed!

Everyone clearing out 15 minutes later. URP! Thanks Sulaimon. Mabruk!

Now that the wedding guests are gone, the family can eat. Cheers!

Supplemental #2

Just so's y'all know, Internet access had been available, but not in the ways necessary for me to make spiffy blog posts. I've been trying to keep track of everything on me ol' laptop as I go along, and of course there are pics and vids clogging up my computer--the hard part is going to be getting it all in a nice presentable format.

SO

I hope you will al forgive the fact that a few of these posts won't appear until I am already home and recovering from the Jetlag.

Today is officially thursday, which means I come home tomorrow. I am a little sad about this, but I think I'm also ready. Three weeks is a nice long vacation, long enough for me to forget about what working is really like. In the mean time, here's a pic of me at Petra--ok, pic won't post because the internet connection is weird and doesn't support whatever it is I'm trying to do.

So, my dear readers, you will have to console yourselves with my words, and know that I love you all.

Peace in the mid-east!

Fujeira- Day 11 Dibba

Um, I think it's Wednesday.

We got up and lounged about for a while, then Sulaimon came and fetched us from our apartment. This is Sulaimon's home town, so we're in his territory now. We started by looking at some gold and mailing letters. Then we went to get my shoe fixed. The guy who did it was chilling on a mat in the shade. It took him all of ten minutes and cost less than a dollar. My sandal is better than ever now, and I wish I had kept the ones I broke 4-wheeling earlier in the week.

After this we went to the Friday market, who knows why they call it that, but that's its name. This was basically for my benefit because I was interested in getting some rugs to bring home.

The Friday market is like all of the guys selling carpets out of their vans in Chicago, times 100 and smooshed together in one spot. They alos have plants, and pottery and other things, but there would be no way for us to get this stuff home so we ignored it.

It was pretty hot and we ended up going to three or four merchants until one guy finally got us to hang around long enough to bargain. All I can say of these few hours is that Sulaimon blew our minds with his negotiating skills. I don't know what ws being said, but he ended up getting three rugs, three silk sheets (for lack of a better name), eight hand sewened pillow cases, and four sodas for 625 AED, which is like maybe $150. My share was 300 AED not bad for the haul. Best of all I got a Sheik Zayad rug to hang on my wall. Try getting handmade crap like that back home for that cheap! I dare ya.

Next we bought lunch for us and Sulaimon in celebration, then he had to go do some stuff for his wedding and we chilled for a few hours. He came back, picked us up, and we cruised around Dibba for a bit. My sister and Lynn went into his wife's house for some mysterious womanly stuff, and we, the guys, went to find something else to do.

First we went to a bookstore where I got a few things for Miss Sage. They had some great books in here: translations of Michael Moore's Dude Where's my Country and Stupid White Men, and a bunch of books about Bush, most of them had fire and explosions on the cover, so that couldn't have been good. There was Mein Kampf (a bit scary IMHO) and a trilogy of boooks studying the Freemasons. Sulaimon had never heard of the masons, and was enthralled when I told him about them. He promptly picked up the first book in the series. I'm interested to see what the Arabs have to say about Masosns.

Next we picked his friend up and went to Le Meridian, a 5 star hotel down the coast. We wandered arouind the hotel, saw girls in bathing suits (first time since Dubai) and had some coffee. Then we headed back, got the girls and called it a night. It doesn't sound like a lot, but these days can be long.

Then I came on down to the Internet cafe and wrote the last two entries. They keep playing the same 7 80's songs over and over again. I don't understand, but if I have to hear Peter Cetera and Amy Grant again, I'm going to gouge my eyes out.

After this

Fujeira- Day 10 The mountains

After lunch we hit the road for Dibba which is coastal city divided by two Emirates (Fujeira and Sharja) and Oman. To get ther we had to cut through the mountains in the northeast.

We drove through Hammoudi's town and saw a hotel that was built and then shut down as the mountain hill it was built on crumbled underneath it. OOPS!

We saw a natural hot spring fed by water from the mountains. A lot of the people come here and take little baths to get some of the magic water in their system. Very nice.We cruised around a bit and say Hammoudi's grandfather's farm where we met up with his uncle Ahmed who was going to take to a few other notable spots in the mountins. The trip in the mountains was breathtaking and fun since we had to drive along a dusty unpaved road which went almost straight up the mountains.

We stopped to take pictures of a Wadi, which is a dry riverbed that floods during the rainy seasons. Then we pressed on to an amazingly lush and beautiful mango farm hidden up in the mountains. Apparently, this is ahmed's uncle's farm and it is build on the site of an ancient fortress. There aren't any national historical societies in the UAE, so if you live there, it's basically your old ruined fort, so we took some pictures and wondered about the history of the old place.

After the Fort we walked down the path to the Cool-Old-Guy-of-the-Hills' farm. He was abuot to smoke his old wooden pipe, filled with some suspicious green plant, but when we arrived, he jumped up ans gave me a snappy British salute.

Ii saluted back, we had a larff, and walked down into his amazingly lush farm. Up to this point, I had been getting used to seeing 'farms' which were basically fenced off squats of desert where goats and camels hung out. This was something else entirely. It was actually cool in here, and mangoes fell from the trees right into your hand ready for eating.

He directed us around the side of his farm and had one of his Bangladeshi helpers climb a tree and shake some fresh fgruit for us. We were a bit overwhelmed by the enormous bag of fruit he gave us because we had no clue what to do with it all.

He demanded that we have dinner with him, but our plans had us travelling for the next few hours so we couldn't. It was heartbreaking to refuse, but if we said yes to every family that invited us to dinner we'd be eating once an hour and would have to ditch our luggage to meet the weight requirements needed to get home.



Next we stopped at another farm with lots of goats and a pair of gazelles. There as a little girl here who had a littler baby goar in her arms. It was very very cute. This family invited us to their house for dinner as well, and again we had to decline.

For the next hour or more we drove through the mountians, stopped at a quaint mountian town for water, and headed into Dibba where we were going to spend the night. We had to wait for Sulaimon to call us about our hotel, so we hitched over to the Omani side of DIbba and took a look at a dam they had built to stop mountain flooding. It was nice, but a tad bit underwhelming after the other things we'd already seen.

After this we got a call from sulaimon, went to our very comfortable apartment, and I think I was asleep in about 30 minutes. All in all a very beautiful and scenic day.

Fujeira- Day 10 The Morning

Greets!

Day ten, looks like we're rounding the bend here in the old (or not so ol') U.A.E.

For those of you who don't know, and if I didn't write any of this yet, the U.A.E. is a confederation of city states called Emirates. These were brought together under one Sheik Zayed sometime in the 1970's (hold on...checking facts....) ok, December 2, 1971 to be exact. The government is officially a Federal Constitutional Monarchy...kind of like ours.....hmmmm

Basically, Sheik Zayed, the then Emir of Abu Dhabi, pulled all the other emirates togther and federated them into what it is today with Abu Dhabi as the capital and Dubai as it's very rich, very fancy, and very congested little brother. There are five other Emirates: Abu Dhabi, Ajman, Dubai, Fujairah, Ras al-Khaimah, Sharjah, and Umm al-Quwain. As of today, I have now visited every Emirate and the country of Oman, not bad I think.

Our final ex-ex-patriot frined, Abdullah Hammudi, or Hammudi (Yeaarrggg...Peter Cetera is playing in the background!! Gods above! Oh no... Amy Grant too! Curses!) came and picked us up from our most recent domicile, Sun City, in the emirate of Sharjah. A final word about Sharjah: it is considered the cultural center of the UAE, so if you are looking for theatre and dancing and book stores and nerds, this is your place.

Hammudi took us around in his SUV and we visited an old (or maybe new) fortress which the people used before the Brits came and ran the Arabian Peninsula. It was nice enough, but kind of lacking in much real historical content. It was sort of a juimble of stuff, with hastily written notecards, many of which made no sense to my keen grasp of the Engrish language. Also I was sleepy because I keep waking up at like 5 or 6 in the morning; it's a real pain in my ass.

Anyhoo---

We pressed on and saw some stuff, like a graveyard that some guy had managed to use to scam a Kuwaiti and a camel racing track. The graveyard scandal went like this: during the 1991 gulf war, all the Kuwaitis ran for the hills and many came to the UAE. One such man proclaimed to another his interest in buying some land (of which, there are no rules about as far as I can tell). The native told him that he had the perfect spot of land for him just a short way down the road. The two set off, and mind it was the eve, to see the spot of land in question. Once there the Kuwaiti, impressed by the scope and size of the land (YAHHHHH!!!! more Peter Cetera!!! MERCY!!!) instany resolved to give the local man 100,000 Dirhams on the spot ( about $28,000) and another 200,000 after the government finalized the deal. They resolved to meet the next morning at the local constabulary to finish the deal, but guess who never showed up and got away 100,000 AED richer? After three days of waiting, the government official finally asked the Kuwaiti what piece of land he was waiting to purchase. I'm sure you can guess the color of his face when they told him it was the local graveyard. Moral: don't give thousnds of dolars to strange men in dark graveyards.

The camel track was interesting, but nothing was really going on. Apparently, if you win a camel race they give you a huge brand new SUV, or maybe 1million AED.


Next was lunch. It was pretty cool. We got to meet Hammoudi's family, the Hammoudis. The lunch was goat with rice and a some yummy bread and veggies, and fruit, and sweets, and more than 20 people could eat let alone 5. After lunch some visiting with the family, then we hit the road for other destinations. One thing about visiting families, I pretty much only get to meet the men and boys and maybe a baby, if she doesn't scream at the sight of me. It's not because I'm ugly (yar!) but because it's not customary to see a family's womenfolk. On the other hand, my sister has met everyone. Ususally there are about 5 to 15 people that I don't get to see. Sometimes I'm even alone in the room for a while as everyone else does what they gotta do. doesn't bother me though.

these pics are of the meal. Ahmed is showing us the proper way to open a goat's head. As a visitor, it's a good thing to know how to do. first you rip the jaw off and pull the meat off of it. Then you pull the tongue out, then the eyes. Next you clear the meat of the rest of the head, and finally take the jaw and use it to crack open the skull so you can et to the nice juicy brains.

YUM!

Important! Supplemental

I have gotten the first few pics up here. I will get more soon and try to link them in my blogs so things make a bit more sense.

Again: here, or here, or here

Sharjah- Day 9

Today, our friend Sulaimon came back to take us out.

We left our hotel around noon ( I had been reading and writing all morning of course!) and cruised around a bit and then went to lunch. It was a decent buffet, nothing to write home about.

After that, I made my one request of the day, which was to sit somewhere and drink some American style coffee. Arabic coffee is ok, but I don't like to drink a lot of it. It doesn't seem like it's been roasted long enough and the taste is tangy and bitter. We had some coffee, laughed about how much all teenagers are the same EVERYWHERE, shopped for a minute ( I got my Sheik Zayed T-shirt. YESSSS!!!), and left.

Next we hit the historic district of Sharjahm and let me tell you, this is where the REAL shopping is. Like Sulaimon so sagely put it, "stuff in a mall you can buy anywhere, but thiese things are unique." Well, that's sort of what he said.

The first thing I looked at were some woven wool rugs. I like the kind that are about 1.5' x 3' and the first vendor spread a half dozen beautiful rugs out for me to choose. When I asked him how much for one, he came back with 350 AED (Arab Emirates Dirham), or roughly $95. Abargain in the states, but WAY too high. Sulaimon admonished the guy and he told me to make an offer. How could I? I had no idea what they were really worth. Sulaimon told me we could get them for AT MOST 150 AED, or $40, so when the guy came back with 200 AED we just walked away.

If you've never had to haggle for prices before, I can tell you it can be heartbreaking, but you must be firm. It also helps to have someone with you who knows what stuff is actually worth. The next shop had all sorts of brass, copper, pewter, silver and other types of jewelry and trinkets. There were swords, rifles, tea-pots, rings which bore the seal of some animal or Arabic phrase, necklaces, bracelets, and more stuff I just can't remember. There were ancient Arabic vinyl records too, which I was eyeing greedily.

He wanted to have us look at his rugs, and having heard the last guy try to ruin us, he sarted at 200 AED. He wouldn't come down below 150, so we walked off again. They tried SOOOO hard, I swear I thought I was killing his children.

At this point I must give all praise and honor to my friend Sulaimon and his masterful bartering abilities. I did pretty good, but without him to give me a price baseline, and to haggle a few more Dirhams out of the merchants, I could now be a poor poor man. Instead I'm am a slightly poorer man with a lot of interesting stuff. Huzzah!!!

Next came some more stuff, which I can't write about here because it involves secret gift detials that should not be divulged. All I can say is that this place is probably the coolest shopping experience I've had in this land of shops and malls. In fact, I think that as a tourist, Sharjah is a cool place to visit. It is much more down to earth than Dubai, has really beutiful mosques and other architecture, has a nice lake front Corniche (street by the water), decent shopping malls and hotels (gotta have those), and a really nice fine arts and historical area. One thing of note is that there are realtively few Arabs around here; most of the people are foreign workers--Iranis, Bangladeshis, Indo-Pak, and Filipino. Another thing to note is that like Dubai, the city is completely under construction, and if I came back in a year, I doubt I would recognize very much of it.

Let's see.... after this time killer it was full on rush hour, and that is a very very bad thing in the Emirates. You have three choices: wait in it, wait it out, or go the opposite direction. We went the opposite direction of everyone else and came to another mall type area with a bunch of restaurants. We ate some stuff, and then called it a night.

Now I'm here typing this, and soon I will be done. In the morning we are off to the emirate of Fujiera to see our friend Hammoudi and prepare for his wedding feast.

In Sha Allah!

Sharja- Day 8

Today was a complete breather. It was Father's Day actually. Happy Father's day to me and all! And as such, I instinctively felt the need to sit on the couch and veg all day.

I was feeling very sore and beat up from the day in the desert, so I took my last 600mg Ibuprofen and lounged about sleeping, writing, and watching some Arabic TV.

The weirdest thing I saw on the telly was this music vieo from Iraq. It was sort of like a children's song, led by two Raffi type guys and a chorus of Iraqi children. The raffi type guys (RTG's) were aping about on the tv, flashing american money, climbing trees, and looking really sad as they were rotting in a jail cell. When the chorus came the kids all sang and clapped, and then it cut to a row of about 5 people all dressed like the Abu Ghraib tortured prisoners. It was surreal, grotesque and shaming. Try to tell me were screwing these people up royaly. (One good thing about 'liberating' Iraq, however, is the fact that a bunch of Iraqi hotties now have a music video show where they all dance together in some kind of late 70's disco hall. One of the guys here called it arabic pole dancing, even though these girls were all fully dressed and hardly being erotic)

After sleeping off my pharmaceutical coma, I went out and took a trip to the Mega Mall down the street. By the way, the girls were out doing their own thing today, Al Hamdelela (God is Great), so I could be by myself. I bought a few books at the bookstore and had some coffee in the crappy cafe they had there. I bought a nice sci-fi book for mind fodder, and two other ones for later.

One book is calle 'The Alhambra' by Irving Washington of Sleepy Hollow fame, and the other is excerpts from the travells of Ibn Batuta. Ibn Batuta was a middle ages traveller, much like Marco Polo. He is pretty famous in the Arabic world, I think, and it looks really interesting becasue it's basically history, philandering, and adventures. My kind of stuff!

I went home and read till my eyes popped out and I fell asleep.

Al Khanzna- Day 7

Wow, what a day. I’m aching terribly at the moment.

I started the day with my first full meal in three days and it felt great. The hotel we stayed at was probably the nicest one so far; it had all the amenities, including a 5 star restaurant.

Breakfast was a buffet with all sorts of stuff, including fresh omlets and watermelon juice. Meredith joined me and we looked at the complimetary newspapers they had given us. In mine I read about the dissolution of the Hamas led coalition government in Palestine. Meredith read a story about a man in India who had just failed, for the 39th time a test he had been tring to pass so he could get a better job and a wife. The man was 79 years old and had no formal education. The only part of te test he was able to almost pass was ancient Sanskrit. He had a good chuckle over this.
After breakfast we did some internet stuff, then Jaber came to pick us up. We checked out, a bit ruefully on my part, and headed to Al Khazna where Jaber lived.

Jaber’s house and small town are situated about 30 or 40 minutes outside of Abu Dhabi. It seems like he is the officer who lives the closest to the actual Police headquarters where the work. Some of the other guys have to live in apartments in Abu Dhabi during the week. Apparently, this isn’t uncommon.

I was ushered into the main guest area and Jaber, pronounced Ya-ber by the way, took my sister and our companion Lynn to meet his wife, father, and others. I was actually pretty relieved that there weren’t a whole bunch of other people around; it was nice to chill out somewhere.

Jaber came back with his brother, Ahmed (pronounce by stressing the ahh, and putting a little ‘ch’ after it like ‘LOCH ness’—so its like ‘Och-med, just not too hard on the ‘ch’) We ate fruit drank some really great tea and watched Arabic music videos.

Jaber and I talked about some religiousy things. I definitely appreciate people with strong spiritual views, I like to hear how they understand and interperet things. I also have a lot to learn about Islam. I asked him about why it’s bad to be left handed, and he replied that it is not bad, just unlike Mohammed. There are things that have been ordered by god, things forbidden by god and things god wants us to do. For the rest, Muslims try to emulate the life of Mohammed—he was right handed, so they try to be right handed; his wives covered up, so their wives cover up.

After a bit Ahmed’s friend Khalifa (the ‘KH’ is said like you are almost gargling in the back of your throught, or maybe getting ready to hawk a loogie) came in. He spoke English pretty well, and we talked a bit. Meredith and Lynn joined us and we lunched. After lunch everyone left, we putzed around for a while and finally hit the road to do some horseback riding, and 4-wheeling on Khalifa’s ranch.

Before the ranch, though, we took a detour out deep into the desert. I thip part of the desert, the sand dunes were enormous and very breathtaking. Ahmed took the three of us in his truck and we went dune-cruising. It was very cool, almost like a roller coaster. We left the dune area, saw a small farm where some horses lived, then hit the road for Khalifa’s ranch.

The ranch was right off of some kind of highway and this is the first place we went to where they had dogs. Dogs, if you didn’t know, are considered unclean in Islam, and are pretty uncommon. They are really only kept outside and maybe for hunting and protection. Jaber said they were crazy, but I found them to be pretty funny and nice; heck I kind of like dogs, and when I snapped my fingers at one of them, she came running across the ranch to get some good ol’ lovin’.

Khalifa’s ranch-hand started prepping the 4-wheelers and getting one of the horses saddled. While the rest of us went into a small trailer for refreshments and air-conditioning. It was about 6pm now so the extreme midday heat had lost a bit of its edge.
By this point Rami, a different, younger guy from Northwestern, had joined us. He had been at the other Khalifa’s wedding and Jaber invited him along for some fun in the desert.

With the 4-wheelers prepped and ready, Jaber gave Rami instructions on how to use it and the two of them took off into the desert. After a while they came back and it was my turn to try.

Here in the UAE, safety rules, and maybe rules in general, are a little bit relaxed, so there were no helmets and pads. Just you, the machine, the wind, and the sand. I started out slowly, getting the feel for the gears and the clutch, and trying to find my comfort zone.

The only time I had done this before was when I was about 10, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t screw up. I was zipping along pretty good all day. I got the gears shifting down really quickly, as I am an experienced stick shift driver (pats own back) I did manage to jump a sand dune that had nothing on the other side and thus took a dive off of my vehicle. When I stood up and felt all my pieces in the right place I said a very heartfelt prayer of thanks--you would have too.

After the desert fun we took a detour to a campsite way in the middle of no where. One of the guys' friends owned this site and used it as a resort for tourists. They have Arabic style food, sheesha pipes and, best of all, a smoking hot belly dancer. This woman was unbelievable. Aside from the normal hip-shaking and spinning, she also did some death defying cane flinging. At one point she was doing her thing with the stick between her and some guy from the audience. Then she took the stick, had the man put his arms down, and whipped the stick all aorund his body without killing him. Very nice!

All the people there were staring at us because they were tourists, probably from Australia or something, and we showed up with not one, but 5 Emirates all in their traditional dress. It was basically like walking into some hot nightclub and getting the best seat and having the owner come out to sit with you. Tre Chic!

I'm telling you, you can't have a vacation like this on your own. We are so unbelievably lucky to know all these people.

After this we headed back to Khalifa's father's house for another traditional dinner. The cool thing about this guy is that he is an original bedouin and used to work with sheik Zayed, the founder of the UAE. He grteeted us with his traditional gun belt on, the kind that cross your body like one of the San People from Star Wars. Unbelieveably, he left and came back with two of them which he gave to Rami and myself. Look out Halloween!

Dinner was great, we had goat (again!) and bunch of other stuff. This time the goat head was in front of me so I had to open it. I tore the damned thing apart, but apparently I wasn't finished. On of Khalifa's brothers, Nassir, popped the brain out and hannded it to Meredith and I. We both took a bit of it much to the surprise of our hosts who thought we were too chicken. Then I ate half of the goat's tongue. Yes, I have now eaten brains and tongues. YUM! (They actually weren't that bad, but it was too hard to get over my bred disgust to eat the entire thing)

After dinner we took tea anc coffee (chai and cohua) and watche some videos Khalifa's father had made about the traditions of the UAE and the bedouin lifestyle. There were lots of gun spinning dances, and then a clip of Shiek Zyed hunting with his falcon. Finally the video showed us how the bedouins loaded their camels and trekked across the desert. Quite amazing. Khalifa and Nassir then started taking out the actual camel rugs and falncry gear that their family has used for the past 60 decades. Aparently, each item is worth 10s of thousands of dollars because no one makes them anymore. They are exquisite pieces of craftmanship and engineering. It was all very beautiful.

As we were leaving, I gave Kalifa and his brothers the only gift I really had which was my second to last Marvelkind CD. I told them to share it around so I could start booking tours in the middle east. They were really happy about it and kept asking me about the website and our myspace page and all that, so don't be surprised to see them in my network soon.

We got to our hotel in Sharjah really late and I fell into a nice, pain-killer induced sleep. (That fall in the desert didn't left me alive and unbroken, but not undented, mind you)

Abu Dhabi- Day 6

Jaber picked us up from the hotel in Al Ain around 9am. And we set off for Abu Dhabi. After some driving we got to the capital city and checked into our amazing hotel.

This place was really lavish. It was the Abu Dhabi officer’s hotel, sort of like military officer’s clubs in the states. It was enormous. There was a garden café running the length of the hotel wing we were in. I don’t know what else to say. I ended up with m own room, because my dad was leaving that night. It was the first place that had a bar in it, so my dad and I had a pint while the Filipino bar tender put on his favorite Shakira video. God, she sucks; I think she was ripping off Alanis Morisette. Who would do that????

Jaber came back around noon. It was Friday, so he had special prayer stuff to do. Friday is sort of like Christian Sundays, so he wanted to go somewhere and hear the imam speak, I think.

After this we set out to see Abu Dhabi. We went to the harbor area for lunch, a very nice buffet. Then we shot off to the Emirate Palace, which is probably the most unbelievably huge hotel I’ve ever seen. Imagine the Taj Mahal with the Arc D’Triumph. Ok, probably an exaggeration, but this place was enormous and fancy, fancy, fancy! There are pics and vids, but I still don’t have that stuff posted…someday soon, I hope.

Understand, so far we’ve pretty much done everything in either a hotel or a mall.

Then we went to two other malls. The traffic was unbelievably horrendous. By the time it was all over with we got back to our hotel around 10pm. We had some shawarma sandwiches and Jaber told us a story from the Koran about a king who tried to destroy the Kabla (?) in Mecca but his elephant kneeled down and wouldn’t go ay further. Then some bird flew over, dropped pebbles on the soldiers heads and they all fell dead. Then Jaber left and I went to my room. Then I was asleep.

Al Ain- Day 5 Evening -Khalifa's Wedding

After a lunch with Abdullah, we went back to the hotel where I slept until it was time for the Wedding.

Here are a few things that I know about Arabic weddings: I think there are three parts. First an engagement where the families give their sons and daughters the rings and start arranging the formal parts of the wedding. This is pretty much like ours, except the bride and groom can only meet when someone else is around so no funny stuff happens. Then there is the Melka, which is the formal signing of the marriage certificate and all the paperwork. After this the couple is officially married. Between the Melka and the wedding the couple are allowed to see each other and get to know each other a bit better. Finally there is the wedding, which is similar to our wedding reception—a big party for everyone who can come.
I think there are huge misconceptions about arranged marriages in the U.S. People tend to believe that their way must be the best because that’s how they do it and how it’s always been done. One thing that has become really clear to me is that the only things we know about other people are the worst things. We get this in the news, in our gossip—the abnormal and bizarre become all we know about the rest of the world, and all they know about us.

The way it’s been told to me, when a man has completed his studies and has settled himself in a position, it is clear what type of family he will be able to afford. The parents begin to look for suitable wives and husbands within their class brackets. They meet the parents and the girls and choose the ones who seem like a good fit for their sons or daughters. After they have spent some time doing their research they show their son or daughter some of the choices they have. Then the son or daughter chooses whom they would like to meet.

Though the parents arrange the weddings, no one, at least in Emirate culture, is ever forced to marry someone they don’t like. There are stories about people who marry their daughters for money, or to someone that ends up treating her badly, but again, these are generally exceptions. If you think about it, if it were bad for people they wouldn’t do it, so the cases where problems arise must be far less than the times where everything works out for the best.

When you think about how messed up things can get in the dating world of America, it doesn’t seem so bad. American statistics put the divorce rate over 50%; in the Arab world it’s almost non-existent. I’ve seen more unhappy marriages in America than I can count so how can our way of courtship be better; in fact I would argue that America might be broken in this regard.

Anyway…

The Wedding

We arrived at the wedding around 8:00 pm. Meredith and our companion Lynn were both dressed in abayas and traditional garb. M father and I had on Khandouras and Goutrans and the entire traditional Emirate garb. We probably look pretty ridiculous to the common American, but I, for one, fit in so completely most of the other men were openly shocked when I spoke to them in English: “Salaam alekum.” “Hi, how are you?” Huh?? They said I looked Turkish or maybe Lebanese.

The wedding was at some amazing 5 star hotel (there pretty much are only 5 star and higher in the Emirates). The women were ushered through a small nondescript door into the women’s room. All of the women wear completely black abayas. Some people describe them as looking like big black tents; I think they look more like black ghosts. This covering is to make sure the other men can’t see them, because they are only for their own husbands. Most of these abayas, however, are lavishly detailed with all sorts of embroidery. These ladies, though covered from head to toe in black, are VERY high maintenance. They don’t come cheaply. Under these black sheets are lots and lots of insanely decadent gold jewelry.

We men parked the car and walked over to a patio where all of the men stuff was going on. Right away we saw all the people we knew and that was great. There were probably 250 people men there already, so I was glad to Khalifa on his day. I think I’m so used to people being so busy they don’t have time to talk, but it was still a bit early so he was there to greet us.

All of the little boys came up to us and they had their little guns with them. We were about to witness the traditional gun dance of the U.A.E. I’d rather just show the video I took, but I don’t have it posted yet.

Basically there were two lines of men, maybe 20 on each side. They each had these little canes, camel jockeying sticks or something, and the music started and they slowly began to bob. There was a man running back and forth between the lines getting the men into the dance. Then they started singing their song. After a bit, other dancers started showing up between the two lines and spun their guns. They flipped them around and spun around and ducked and dodged and all sorts of stuff.

The song intensified and other guys appeared with these flimsy swords. They started play fighting and doing duck walks and jumping like trout. Very interesting.

Then after about thirty minutes or so, the cal for prayer rand across the city and the music stopped so everyone could pray. We were ushered into a waiting room to be in the air conditioning and have refreshments. Every few minutes somebody would walk by and everyone would stand up and shake hands with him and then sit down. There was lots of standing and sitting.

After some time we were shown to the dinner table where I got to eat camel for the first time. Dinner was good, but I wasn’t too hungry because I was growing a camel baby in my guts from the milk I drank earlier in the week. Once dinner was over, that was it. The wedding was done—at least for the men. All said and done, maybe two hours.

We ended up standing around in the hotel lobby for another 2 hours waiting for the women, with no clue what was going on in there. Finally, we called my sister and said she had to come out so we could go. We got them out eventually and headed back to our hotel.

Now, according to my sister, the women’s area was a completely different story. There was belly dancing, cakes as tall as a man, swords, singing, lots of covering and uncovering, smoke machines, flower petals, and all types of food and drink. The brides, all three of them, each took about 20 minutes to walk amongst the other women showing off their dresses and makeup. I can only imagine what it was like. Obviously, it’s not the men who need to be impressed by a wedding; keep in mind the average emirate wedding is 80-90k dollars.

Al Ain- Day 5 Thursday -Afternoon

Feeling a bit better, though the car ride to Abudullah's place made me clench my stomach. Yeowch!

A word of explanation is in order I suppose. The people that we are staying with here in the U.A.E. are all Police officers, Lietenants, who graduated at the top of their class and were given the option to study advance traffic policing methods in the U.S. They chose to come to Chicago so they could learn U.S. methods of traffic management, better their English, and see American culture with their own eyes. These guys are some of the sweetest most gracious people I have ever met and every American could learn a lot from them.

So there are five of them: Sulaimon, Khalifa, Jaber, Abdullah Al Khabi, and Abdullah Hammoudi, whom everyone calls Hammoudi. Khalifa, Sulaimon, and Hammoudi are the ones getting married this month though we won't be staying for Sulaimon's wedding. El hamdulelah!

So, today is Khalifa's wedding, and before the wedding we're going to Abdullah Al Khabi's house for lunch.

Abdullah picked us up aroun 11 and we went through Oman to get to his place. Another check on my map!

We stopped at his father's date and cucumber farm to see some stuff. He has a bunch of green houses and it was all very impressive. One thing that strikes me is that all of the guys we're staying with are pretty well-to-do. This farm itself yields a lot of money because cucumbers are at a premium.

Lunch was nice, we had fish and goat, as well as hummus, salad, and other stuff. Food is a big deal. It hink this may be true the world over. Jaime- you need to do a travel show on this place to be sure, just bring a man too, so you can capture both sides of the family since men and women are separated.

Abudullah's dad was a real joker and we had a blast with him. I gave all of the kids some American coins and candy and Abdullah's day got in line to get his. A true goofball. These guys love to joke around and laugh.

Al Ain- Day 4 Wednesday

Ok, I'm a bit behind, it's actually Day 7, but here goes:

Day four in Al Ain, I'm sick as a dog.

DO NOT DRINK CAMEL MILK

'Nuff Said.

We went to have luch with Khalifa's uncle Abdullah. He's a cool old dood. We had a giant plate of rice and a roasted goat. there were two goat heads on there (not good for me achin' stomache) and apparently, as the guest, you are supposed to break open the goat's head. I think this is so that as the guest you can make sure that you're eating goat and not a dog or something. I got a picture or two. YUM!

All of the family came by because Americans are pretty special and they all wanted to take a gander at us.

Tomorrow will be the wedding, so I'm trying to rest up and get my strength back.

I'm a little paranoid because I haven't really been eating a lot. I try everything, I'm no coward, but today especially, my appetite is very poor. Arabs like to see their guests eat lots and lots, and burp and shove food in their faces and make a big mess, and well, I'm just too westernized to be good at this. So, I'm hoping that I'm not offending them. I'm sure they will forgive me if I do.

My father and I went cruising around with one of Khalifa's friends, Ahmed, in the evening. I was having a hard time keeping it together, but one thing that was funny is that he kept calling me Mr. Smith.

Al Ain is a beautiful city, inland from Dubai and closer to Oman. The nice thing is that it isn't as humid so lots of poeple like to come here to stay as it's quieter and more comfortable. If you ever plan on coming to the gulf, which I highly suggest, try coming in the winter.

That's it for today. Note from the future-- I will be feeling much better soon. ;P

Al Ain- Day 3 Tuesday -Evening

Dubai -Day 3 -Al Ain

Today was pretty cool. Let’s see, first it started at 7 a.m. when I realized I was never going to get back to sleep no matter how tired I was. Basically, my back tightens up and I have to get up and walk it off; I sleep best sitting up propped against something believe it or not—though I often fall over.

ANYWAY, my father and I went to the lobby to see if we could get some coffee in the lobby. It was far too early for these guys.

U.A.E. rule number something: Nothing begins before 10 a.m. unless otherwise stated.

We did, however, find the banquet room open and ducked in there for a little continental breakfast. Here’s a shot list of what was available: Eggs (scrambled or hard boiled), sliced boiled potatoes, chicken wieners, baked beans, something that looked like chili, a cheese spread, hummus, 12 different types of bread, apple juice, orange juice, guava juice, coffee, donuts and Danishes. T’was a filling and tasty breakfast. It reminded me of high school when I nuked hot dogs for breakfast everyday. Who knew I would find my breakfast kindred spirits in Dubai!

We talked to the busboy who was from Bangladesh. His English was tough to understand, but he told us he was trying to save up enough money to move to the U.K. We bid him luck etc. My pop paid, which was a nice change for me, and we headed back up to the room.

Hoping to come back a little tanner than I left, I decided to put my plan into action by chilling out at the pool. I brought my book and the two of us went out there where we instantly began sweating profusely. It had to be in the high 90’s and 85% humidity, at least. I think after about 10 minutes I felt my skin starting to burn. My pop moved into the shade and I decided to jump into the pool without trunks! What a rebel! There were three mega hot Chinese girls that came out and joined us by the pool. That was a very nice treat.

Ok, skip an hour forward. I decided I needed to get some laundry started so we could have clean clothes and be ready to leave when our friend Khalifa showed up. Crap this shit is boring…. What’s worth writing about?

Dad’s suitcase got lost, and it is lost still. The airline pays 35£ a day until it eventually is discovered or declared lost. He needed to go buy some new clothes.

Meredith went to the Airport to fetch our friend Lynn who is joining us for the weddings and Jordon. She thought the flight arrived in Dubai at 7:30 a.m. Turns out it arrived at Heathrow in London at 7:30. Meredith was waiting at the Air Port and driving around in cabs for at least 4 hours. Not too fun for her, I’m sure, but she returned in high spirits anyway.

Khalifa showed up at noon and we checked out of the hotel and headed, once again, to the Mall of the Emirates…the place with skiing. That was fine, pops hadn’t seen it and he and Meredith needed some stuff.

We killed a few hours there and then left for Al Ain, which is where Khalifa’s family lives. I slept so the trip meant nothing to me. I awoke right as we were pulling into his family’s villa, chateau, compound…words basically escape me.

The building was huge and it sat on at least an acre of land. There was a one room building in front where their Pakistani driver lived and another building to the right of the house where the kitchen was and the two servant women stayed. All in all a minimum of seven family members lived in the house. I think only the married sisters no longer live there.

The lawn was sand and gravel. Basically there was no irrigation system and all the family’s water had to be ported in on a weekly or monthly basis. There were a couple of huge water tanks near the driver’s house. I had to remember that we were in the middle of the desert—not a desert like the Sahara, more like in Nevada.

The house was enormous, easily a million dollar home in the Chicago region. I think it only had two stories, but each floor was at least an additional 5 feet higher than what I’m used to. The walls were all brushed sandstone and the building had a very distinctive Arabic flair. It was designed to resemble a desert castle or fortress, I think. There were at least five cars parked in the front.

The vestibule to the house held three doors. The center door was for the family, the door on the right was for male guests and the door on the right was for female guests. We entered the right door and walked into a huge living room that was decorated with a carpet a few pictures and nine very cozy and fancy sofas.

On the rug was a basket filled with fruit. Most of it I recognized—bananas (moz), apples (ta-fall’h), tiny plums, oranges (Burr-du-gagh), and grapes—but there was one fruit that was super freaky looking. It sort of resembled a spiny sea anemone; it was yellowish with bright purple quills all over it. I think it was called and Indian Plum. Well, to eat it you peel the skin off and eat the fruit around the pit. It was pretty tasty.

Now, I must state that we eating this fourth meal about an hour after a huge lunch and it was really difficult to imagine stuffing more food in my gut, so when the next plate of food came out, I was really not very interested in eating it, though I am quite fond of trying new things. I can’t remember what this stuff was called for the life of me, but it looked like oatmeal or the gravy from ‘gravy and biscuits’. It was some mixture of goat meat, gravy, and flour. Apparently this stuff is huge, like macaroni and cheese or something, the thing is it’s like eating some kind of meat gravy that is uncooked dough at the same time. It’s not bad, but I was truly stuffed and could only choke down a few spoonfuls.

There was tea and Arabic coffee as well. As Khalifa stated a number of times, the Arabic coffee (co-hu-ah) was not sweetened. This didn’t really explain the unique flavor of this coffee, however. I’ve had Turkish coffee, and here, the coffee we drink is called Coffee Americana, and it’s espresso and water, but this was something altogether different. Meredith said the flavor was cardamom, beats me but it took a bit of getting used to. You sip it from tiny china mugs.

Khalifa’s mother (Oom) came out to greet us, which is generally not done. The reason she made an exception for us is because she was both extremely happy to have us visit her, and also because Khalifa’s family understands that westerners are used to different customs than Arabs.

Generally, the women stay in their own area, and I take it that this not out of some kind of subservience, but rather some sort of proprietary respect. Arab men will talk about their wives, but do not mention their names or introduce them to other men. It is considered rude to ask too much about another man’s wife.

This is had to explain, and seems really odd to westerners because our wives and sisters and mothers desire something different in our society. I wish I could describe it better, but I think it all lies in history: in Bedouin culture, protection of the women is highly valued, where I think in America, history put women in a different position, one where they had to be more active in the work and business of the family. All I can say is that I don’t get the feeling the women resent this, but almost prefer it. It makes life easier for them I think.

Anyway, Khalifa’s mother wanted to be with us and talk to us and, frankly, I was really flattered and honored, because I think it means a great deal to have us come thousands of kilometers to visit them and honor their son on his wedding day. It’s honestly, one of the most special things I think I’ve been able to participate in. Plus, the families of the Arabic guys who used to live in Evanston truly love my sister because she took care of their sons while they were so far away from their families. The mothers, sisters, and wives of these men truly love taking care of them and I think knowing they were so well looked after while in a foreign land is something that can’s ever be repaid. Basically, my sister rocked and they worship the ground she walks on.

After coffee and tea, we got into the spiffy new Infinity, owned by Khalifa’s future wife, and set out to see their camel (Jamel or busch) farm. After a few minutes drive across the desert we arrived at the camel farm.

Words will do this scene no justice. I’m not sure I was able to process it completely anyway. Thankfully, I got many pictures and videos. I’ll try to describe everything I can remember.

As the suburban neighborhood of new and under-construction villas and chateaus dwindled, the buildings first became older single-room houses, and finally corrugated metal lean-to shacks. Apparently Khalifa’s father’s first house was one of the smaller single room houses. His new house was given to him by the government. That’s right…given.

The shacks and their associated cobbled together fences and other structures belied no sense of organization or sanity. Things were simply erected wherever they were needed.

The buildings housed goats, camels, and foreign workers. Well, I’m not sure if the workers lived there or just worked there; both are plausible and probable. Indians, Pakistanis and others are literally dying to get into the U.A.E.

We drove over a few sand dunes and turned into a small area with a few beat up water trucks and metal lean-tos. Two men sat in the shade of a truck. These were Khalifa’s uncles and we greeted them and got a few pictures. Then I pet their old male Camel they had. Apparently he’s the father of most of the camels.

The camels are used for three things, as far as I can gather: milk, racing, and meat. Each camel can fetch around 50k Dirham, I think. They are valuable animals, and I believe this is how much of Khalifa’s father’s (Abu-Khalifa) fortune was made. Apparently, when he was born in the 50’s, the U.A.E. didn’t exist yet and everyone was a Bedouin. Bedouins are basically nomads who drive their flocks looking for oases and digging wells in the desert. In the 50 some years he’s been alive, the country was formed, the government prospered and all of these new houses are for them. More about this later.

Meredith went with Khalifa’s mother (Oom-Khalifa—parents always are called by the name of their oldest son) to look at the goats and meet his aunt. We men discussed things about the Bedouin lifestyle, camel racing, and other things. When the women returned we went over to see the new mothers and their calves. These camels are being bred for racing and if they are fast they can sell for over a million Dirham, maybe $360k.

Two workers were milking one of the mothers and they brought us a bowl of fresh milk. We all took a sip. Now, I’m not really one to drink milk in general, so I was a bit skeptical about drinking camel milk, which I was told would give me the shits for two days, but hey, I didn’t want to be rude. So I drank.

The milk was froth and soft. It was warm, having just come from the mom, and actually didn’t taste too bad. Having, never drunk cows milk that was this fresh, and I have an uncle with a dairy farm, I was surprised by the not unpleasantness of the milk. I don’t think I want to do it again, but it’s definitely one for the books—or blogs if you will.

I snapped a bunch of pics and vids, a bunch of camels and goats too, and then we left and headed back to Khalifa’s house. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned how much new construction is going on in the U.A.E., but the road we were on didn’t exist a year earlier, and the house has only been there for year and a half. It’s as if everything just erupted from the desert overnight. My father who had been here during Desert Storm said it was nothing like he remembered it.

We then headed to our hotel, where I am currently typing, freshened up a bit and went back to Khalifa’s house for dinner. We ate freshly butchered and roasted goat and rice, and honestly, it was great. Khalifa’s brother, one of his uncles and his father joined us.

One situation of note was a second helping of coffee, where Khalifa’s younger brother had to stand at attention while we drank our fill of coffee. This, of course, made my father and I uncomfortable, being American and not used to such service, but Khalifa said it is tradition and his brother would stand there for hours until we were finished. He told us to shake our cups from side to side when we were finished, so we drank and quickly shook our mugs at him so he could sit down.

Though everyone else I’ve met so far has spoken pretty good English, most of Khalifa’s family only knows Arabic. In fact, Khalifa’s father never learned to read or write, because when he was a child, schools didn’t exist and he was a nomad. The amount of change that is happening here is utterly staggering.

Khalifa’s uncle is really cool and he and I were practicing Arabic words. He taught me the names of some fruit, of the clothes they wear (Kandora is all I can remember now) and a few other things. Orange is pronounced something like Burr-do-gaghh, with a bit of a guttural thing at the end of the word. I had trouble with this one and finally got it when I matched it with a rough pronunciation or ‘Portugal’. Apple is Ta-fallah, which I remembered because it sounds like ‘to fall’ like the apple fell on Newton. Pretty clever, eh?

Anyway, we have a lunch appointment at his uncle’s house tomorrow, and I am just about exhausted of memories for today so I’m going to stop.

Ma’a Salaama!