In the Middle East! (first impressions)

Today is the beginning of my second full day in the United Arab Emirates*, visiting my boyfriend's family who live here. I'm staying in Abu Dhabi, though will be spending some time in Dubai (images) as well. I'm only here until Jan 5 -- there's a lot to see in not very much time!

Travel was long (12 hours from Dulles to Kuwait City on United -- bad food, okay service, limited movie selection, but an Ambien from the guy next to me helped me sleep through most of it. 2 hours from Kuwait to Dubai. Both flights full.) but not unbearable. It's a nine-hour difference here -- highly unlikely I'll recover from jet lag before I leave though, so I'm just making the most of it.

First impressions: Many, and my thoughts are a bit jumbled so sorry for that.

• So far, everything feels very modern and western. Buildings and streets feel about the same, the supermarket/mall felt the same, the crowds haven't felt too different.
• English: Is everywhere -- almost every sign, building, etc is translated in both English and Arabic.
• Airport: Dubai's airport was incredibly crowded, especially considering that my flight arrived 12:50am! The lines in passport control reminded me of US control at peak times. Several women on my Kuwait-Dubai flight were covered up to their eyes, though they interestingly did seem to be co-mingling with men. Perhaps the men were family members though.
  
• "Natives": I've seen very few native Emiratians so far. Of course, they are only 20% of the population here, but it still feels odd. There is not a lot of intermingling, primarily I gather for the cultural reasons that the native population is far more conservative in their Islamic traditions than the greater population, though a good portion of the 80% expatriots are indeed Arabs.
• Westerners: Are everywhere. My impression has been biased of course, as I am staying in a Spanish-Syrian household and last night his mother held a dinner party for friends -- probably 2/3 Spaniards and the rest a mixed crowd of expatriots. His mother works at the Spanish embassy, so in turn much of the crowd was Foreign Service related. It was interesting to meet a related ambassador, but even more interesting to meet people ~my age who were the children of embassy workers. The three daughters of the ambassador were 19, 21, 22, were very close, were obviously privileged though also grounded, and had lived a variety of places -- Cameroon, Guatamala, China, the Netherlands, Spain, US, no where more than 4 years at a time. I met a man who works at the Canadian embassy and has moved his children to Ghana, Cairo, and more. In addition to foreign service workers, I met families associated with the energy industry (I tried not to make a face) -- moving throughout Middle East, UK, Spain, Netherlands, etc.
  
• Status of Women: Again, so it doesn't feel much different here than at home. There are many mixed messages --at the grocery store for example there are checkout lines "Reserved for Ladies and the Disabled" (this is apparently bc many native women are not comfortable sharing a line with men). Culturally here women not only stay veiled -- everything but face and hands covered and no pants allowed -- but also cover all of their face but their eyes when in public. As I mentioned, I've seen little of this though.
  
  On the other hand, manequins in the mall had hard nipples sticking out, and American TV of all sorts is broadcast here -- my bf's 14 year old sister is a devoted follower of "So You Think You Can Dance", which somehow felt a bit risque. :-) Also, I went to a bar last night, where "natives" and westerns were both around and my bf told me it was very new that natives would even feel comfortable to be seen drinking in public. Note that we only saw men, no native women.
  

I'm going to try to go back to sleep (hasn't worked for the past hour or so). Tonight we head to Dubai to celebrate New Year's Eve... should be an experience! :-)

Back to Prague

Last night I left Saarbrucken for Frankfurt, where I met up with my friend Ashish from undergrad (lots of fun, despite transportation fiascos), and this morning I flew from Frankfurt to Prague.

I try to keep these blog entries from ever getting too long or wordy, and with that said it's difficult finding the best words to describe the sense of peace I feel to be back in Prague. It's more than an appreciation for the beauty of the city (which during the Advent season it certainly is, even if the streets are overwhelmed with tourists more than the 40 degree weather would typically suggest). More also than the thrill of seeing old friends.

I admit, a part of me was excited about leaving Prague to return to the U.S. last May, though I knew I'd miss the views and some of the people. Returning today though, I find a sense of belonging and completion; I feel like I've returned to a home. I love Prague for both the castle and the ugly graffiti, the rich culture and the frustrating tourists who clog the streets but never bother to learn where the real values of thee city lie. It's like loving a sibling for both friendship and flaws. There is a certain satisfaction in my heart as I navigate across town through the clogs of tourists, knowing that to them the city is only a beautiful stranger, but I've experienced a touch of its intimacy.

The feeling surprised me a little. Living in Prague for my brief four months, I reached the conclusion that I would never be really happy living abroad long term; always feeling like the outsider trying to adjust and fit in. This makes me reconsider a bit whether I could adjust and live long term as an expatriot. I'm not convinced that I could... but I've never believed that home is simply the place where you've grown up when it comes to the U.S., and I'm at a place in my life where I'm debating opening the circle a bit further.

Hello, Prague. I've returned, and I've missed you.

Fool me once...

Drats, foiled again!

First off, I admit that the title of this post was just a little bit of an excuse to call attention to one of my favorite Bush quotes.

With that out of the way, I really did have a point here. :-P And that point, it turns out, is mushrooms. If you know me, you know that I do my best to be open-minded with food... but mushrooms and olives are where I draw the line. Or at least try to.


Back in August 2004, I was just beginning to start traveling (my only previous lone trip to Europe was Prague in March 2004 -- who knew I'd be starting a trend?). I was in Geneva, Switzerland for a conference, and went out to dinner with some colleagues. The menu was in French, as that's what most of the western Swiss speak. I asked the girls I was eating with to translate the menu, and I chose what I wanted. When it came time to order, I wanted to be self-sufficient so I ordered for myself, in French. And it turns out, I remembered the wrong thing! ;-) I was one line off. The meal arrived, and I was expecting something like pasta... and it's a bowl of mushrooms! only mushrooms! in some sort of gravy sauce! I was horrified. I ate nearly half of it, then finally confessed to the other girls what I did and one was nice and traded the rest of her meal with me. ;)

Of course, after that experience I was certain to memorize the word for mushroom -- champignon in french -- and since then, for each country I visit, I make sure to learn the word for mushroom so I can avoid it. A foolproof plan.

And THEN -- Germany foiled my plan!

A few nights ago in Germany, I again went to the restaurant below my hotel to get a pizza for dinner. Straightforward, yes? After almost two weeks in town, I knew a few German food words, and "Champignon" (just like the French work) was early on my word-spotting list. Based on my confidence, combined with cheapness, I ordered one of the more simple pizzas from the menu. Pizza arrives... COVERED with mushrooms!!

For all you fellow mushroom haters who may choose to wander Germany in the future: it turns out there's a second, secret word! "Pilzen". I felt tricked :) I saw that word on the menu (with the words for cheese, tomato, and pepperoni which I knew), but thought of the beer ("Pils" in German, "Pilsner" in Czech") and figured it was just a spice of some sort.

Again, I sucked it up and ate the mushrooms. Ay de mi. :-P