Of course

...as soon as I sent out an email containing these posts, due to frustration at the blog's apparent inability to open, it opens.
Of course.

I am sorry that I have not kept the blog updated! Since the independent study project period began and regular classes ended, i have only been able to go online about once a week!
Insha, i will be soon able to post about THanksgiving, etc, but for now these are mostly thoughts from today and the 24th...

From November 24
Walking home from the nearest internet café after a fairly frustrating attempt at communication (faulty keyboard, blog would not load), I thought of my hurried and harried emails to people, (“Sorry! This must be quick, I have to get home, it’s after dark!”) I planned out this message that I would write in the comfort of home, and insha’allah, post later. What I wanted to communicate to everyone was how much I was thinking of them, even if I did not have the time or ability to tell them so.
This was on my mind as I walked back through the dust, black abaya billowing--I walk too quickly to be mistaken for an Omani, though if I slow down sometimes people won’t notice that I’m not. Finally getting a knack for wrapping my headscarf has helped—before it simply covered my head, now it looks artful. Or at least intentional. I am nowhere near the skill level of most women, who sport “camel heads” (piles of hair or hairclips that hold out the back of the scarf.They look like duchesses. Or dinosaurs. Passing the local Pakistani men wandering away from late prayers at the little mosque next to our house, or hanging around outside the few stores by the internet café. I recently found out that our neighborhood is known as “Pakistan” because of the number of foreign workers here. It is funny; before I sometimes felt nervous to be out walking because there were so many menand no women. But for some reason the knowledge that the area is recognized as a “dubious” neighborhood makes me feel more confident in it. Simply knowing that others acknowledge it as such. Does that make any sense?
A cat scoots across the road ahead of a car. Cats are numerous here, though perhaps not quite as numerous as in Cyprus. However, in Cyprus they were featured on postcards, whereas here no one pays any attention to them. Perhaps there are actually more here but I simply don’t notice them. More cars pass—if people complain about anything, (and Omanis do not generally complain much), it is usually about traffic. Muscat, stretched out along a jagged and mountainous coast, does not allow for much flexibility in city planning or traffic minimalization. Until they build a mass transit system, (and who knows if that will ever happen), the traffic is just going to get worse and worse. I am thankful that no one honks at me on the way home…usually this happens, though a night it is harder to tell than I am a foreigner. Men here honestly seem to believe that if they honk at a white woman, she will jump into his car ready for sex; thank you Hollywood and MTV.
I return home, pull the large gate shut behind me, ( by law all houses in Muscat have exterior walls and gates and are painted white or some other shade of pale). The house is locked, there is only one key, since usually someone is home and the only time it is locked is from the inside, at night, so I call through a window to my brother to open the kitchen door. My sisters are inside studying, the maid is praying in the majlis (sitting room—she is an elderly Christian lady from India. She adores the youngest boy and favors him above the other kids. Her voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard, and used to have a similar effect on me, but I like her. She works very hard…I feel that I have written about her already, and I probably have. I have felt strange at times for not particularly liking her, and berating myself because she works so hard, her life is hard, she is far from home, etc etc. But then again, if I were to tie her up with the neat little ribbons of victimhood and subsquently feel only pity towards her as such, I would deny who she is, her personhood. She is more valid and human as a grouchy old woman with a voice to skin sheep than as a victim. Then again, she is both. In any case, I like her better now. I think before I was afraid of her.

From November 28Just in time to catch the sun’s entirety, poised above the edge of the stage, preparing for a lengethning exit. It is only 5pm—during ramadhan we had to wait until 6:30 for the sun to finally give in. The air is cool and fresh, an Indian couple walks along the dusty road, the sound of hammers and the occasional shout, carhorn, or babycry are melted by the ongoing ignorable rush of the distant highway. It has been a long time since Ramadhan irritability and my siblings’ drove me onto the roof for maghreb (sunset prayer/”evening”). Now the evening’s natural nostalgia has a different quality, no longer that of an unsure swimmer in a torrent, taking a moment to grab a boulder before taking a deep breath and diving back into the flow of an unfamiliar routine. Now the river, unchanged, seems a trickle… I wait here in an eddy, waiting for the rush of new travel to make me struggle again.

The family is at the beach…having interviewed my health into the ground last week, am recovering and preparing to begin analysis. If anyone was patient enough to read the research project I prepared on psychological empowerment in Cyprus, this project invovled twice the participants with even more extensive questions. Wish me luck on writing the paper. This time the subject has more to do with nation-studies: talking to Omanis, mostly college students from all over the country enrolled at Sultan Qaboos University, (the first of three in the country, established 1986), about Omani history, their hopes for the future, and “characterizations” of Oman, the meaning of the colors in the flag and the khanjar, Oman’s national symbol. I also asked them to choose from a list of images and words the three that in their opinion best represented Oman. The research tries to gauge the extent to which the students’ responses mirrored the official rhetoric put forth by the government, (i.e. Sultan Qaboos, who holds almost every possible rein of power), regarding Omani history, characterizations of Oman, etc. Although, not unexpectedly, peoples’ responses closely match the official spiel, I focus on aspects of the narrated Omani identity that relate to peace. The Sultan won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006, (have not yet verified this, but have heard it from various sources), and Oman’s foreign policy reflects careful neutrality. I was interested to see whether people would articulate this when speaking about Oman in general, and many do. It is hard to know, however, how closely people’s behavior or thinking would match this official non-aggressiveness, when not being asked questions by an American student.

The adan echoes out; young men stream out of the brush across the street as they do every evening, preparing to change into dishdasha from their sweaty soccer jerseys.
I used to feel embarrassed if someone looked up and noticed me, perched next to the water tower. Now I stare down any boy impudent enough to keep looking. Roof culture is popular, though luckily for me our neighbors do not venture out very often. Our cat, Sandy, has wandered onto the roof and is staring admiringly at the neighbor’s chickens, roosting in a nearby tree. Sandy tends to bite if you pet her, but I am still glad to have a pet around, most houses don’t.

The mosquitos are coming out, (a huge pesticide campaign in the 70’s nearly eradicated malarial mosquito populations, although there are still enough of the buggers to earn Oman a malaria precaution)—I will go now to buy a phone card and to the internet café. Insha’allah the blog will load and I will be able to post this.
I miss everyone, am feeling ready to return home, though not before what I hope will be a fantastic trip to Yemen and Egypt. Thanks as always for patience with delayed communication…I really hope the blog works today!

Alhamdu'lillah!

Due to whatever mystery of Omani internet service, the posts of Abu Dhabi and Dubai would not appear on my screen. Suspecting the worst of the Omani censorship board, I was prepared to launch Al-Kharif2 today, until I found that the posts could be seen after all.
It was a stressful day, though luckily turning in the Field Study Journal and registering for classes all worked out, Alhamdu'lillah.
Today the second batch of SIT students had our Arabic oral exam, (I think that mine went well, at least I was able to answer all of the questions), and thus the Indendent Research Project (ISP) period officially begins, and all other responsibilities from SIT are over.
Insha'allah I will have a completed project ready for presentation on December 10th or 11th.
On the 12th we have
More on this later.

The photos show 1.passengers aboard an abra crossing "the Creek"; the waterway in Dubai around which much of the city was built, (although now it is only a tiny corner of what is being constructed) We crossed with Pakistani and Indian expats for 1 Emirati Rial, about 30 cents, (rahter than chartering an empty one, the choice of most tourists). 2.The silhouette shot was taken in the Bastakiyya, the constructed, (not "re"constructed, because there was nothing there before) cultural and commerical village. 3.The still under-construction Burj Dubai, soon to be the tallest building in the world. 4.Construction near our hotel taking place in the "dewar" (roundabout; all Gulf city streets use roundabouts for some reason). 5. Rush hour at the Creek.

Below are the thoughts on the Gulf cities and the pictures I would have posted two days ago.
These are the final four entries in my Field Studies Journal. If you don't have time to read much, I think #32 is my recommendation. I apologize, because I do not give much context or background information, as I write the Filed Study Journal for our Academic director. Therefore if you have questions please email me. I would love to hear what people think.
Especially, if you are reading this, Uncle Hans, Aunt Di, Eric and Evan...I also wanted to make sure that you knew that I really enjoyed the trip to Dubai, (especially going out to clubs! This is not possible in Oman because I live with a family. And I have heard from the guy students that the clubs here are pretty dull.) But I really liked Dubai partly because it made me think about all of this...
But please send your thoughts!

Field Study Journal # 35: Returning to Oman
Recorded 11.11.07
Context, Location: After the Flight from Sharjah, in the Muscat Airport
Time: Around 10:00, Sunday, November 11
Individuals Involved: SIT students, other passengers, airport personelle
Coding:
! 1. Gender
(1.1 Norms, 1.3 Expectations, 1.4 Inter/Intra Gender Interaction)
@ 2. Religion
(2.1 Islam)
# 3. International Relations
(3.1 American/Arab Relations, 3.3 Iraq, 3.4 American Hegemony, 3.5 Tourism, 3.6 Omani International Politics)
$ 4. Domestic Politics
(4.1 Government Policies)
% 5. Citizenship
(5.1 National Identity, 5.3 Sultan Qaboos)
^ 6. Foreigner in Oman/the Gulf
(6.1 Outsider/Insider, 6.2 Being American, 6.3 Culture Shock, 6.4 “Social Scientist”)

Description:
Landing in Muscat, the environment looked quite similar to Dubai, especially as compared to returning from Salalah, or flying in for the first time. The airport looked fairly small aand familiar s compared to Sharjah, the skyline miniscule as compared to Dubai. The familiar sight of Omani dishdasha and kuma, and the friendly interest of the customs officers in our Arabic greetings and explanations of our homestay families differ greatly from the brusque Emirati customs agents. The Costa coffee in the waiting area that once surprised me seems tame in comparison to the commerical centers of Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and Doha. The hustle and bustle in the parking lot seems lazy in light of the frenetic energy in Dubai, and quaint when compared to the silent desperation in the eyes of the Sharjah airport occupants. Naila picks us up in her minivan, there is confusion and a U-turn as we are told to leave one of the SIT students, then return for her. I talk to Steve more than I would usually feel comfortable doing in front of Naila, and do not talk as much to her.

Interpretation:
I think that my sense of familiarity is highly superficial—I have now reached a level of understanding of the visual aspects of Muscat and Omani culture. Throughout the next month I expect that I will uncover many surprises, but at the moment I cannot anticipate what I will learn or see. I interpret my feelings of frustration as having to do with my familiarity with Oman and Muscat now. Whereas before I did not permit myself to judge aspects of Omani culture or behavior that I did not consider myself knowledgeable enough to understand, now that I interpret them as familiar I feel myself growing more annoyed by them. I think that I do the same for the United States; because I feel that I understand it, I will judge it positively or negatively, (usually negatively), whereas when I travel I lose this evaluative perspective and simply observe. I interpret this shift in my thinking as not representing an actual depth of undertanding of Oman, but only my sense of feeling used to it.

Evaluation:
I felt reluctant to return to Oman and begin research. It feels familiar now and therefore more difficult to analyze; those aspects that used to intrigue or confuse me I now take for granted, or have learned the uselessness of questioning. I feel frustrated with myself and my lack of curiosity in the same way that I sometimes feel at home, and that I dispel by traveling; I miss the freshness of a new place loaded with ananswered questions. Partly this sense comes from the difficulty of conducting research in Oman, as most of the questions I would want answered cannot be discussed. I will do my best to find ways to probe an area of these issues without alarming people, but at the moment it feels less like an exciting challenge and more like a lot of mental red tape.
I also feel closer to the other SIT students after the trip. I enjoy and feel comfortable in their company, whereas earlier I actually felt more interested and engaged when spending time with my Omani sisters. After feeling that I have really gotten to know and become friends with the other students, I will miss them during the Isp period. Although I could make plans to see the girls, having returned to Oman I will not be able to spend much time in the company of the male students. This motivated my decision to continue to talk to Steve, whereas I would usually feel less comfortabel doing so in front of Naila. I felt rebellious and resistant to returning to the norms of behavior within my family.
I would never have expected Oman to so quickly feel second nature; all the “big issues” of the Middle East can feel more distant here than they do in New York because I have limited access to media publications and such incendiary issues as terrorism and the War in Iraq usually do not come up in conversation.

Field Study Journal # 34: Ibn Battuta Mall
Recorded 10.11.07
Context, Location: Ibn Battuta Mall, Dubai
Time: From 17:00 to 20:00
Individuals Involved: Annelle, Charlie, other SIT students
Coding:
@ 2. Religion
(2.1 Islam)
# 3. International Relations
(3.1 American/Arab Relations, 3.4 American Hegemony, 3.5 Tourism, 3.6 Emirati International Politics)
$ 4. Domestic Politics
(4.1 Government Policies)
% 5. Citizenship
(5.1 National Identity, 5.2 Expatriate Differentiation)
^ 6. Foreigner in the Gulf
(6.2 Being American, 6.3 Culture Shock, 6.4 “Social Scientist”)

Description:
The description of the Ibn Battuta Mall comes within a context of an entire day spent in malls, mostly at the Mall of the Emirates, (and therefore exhaustion and over-stimulation). After hours spent trying to connect with the others, Charlie and I managed to meet some fellow SIT students in the Ibn Battuta Mall. Our cab pulled up in “China”, and we walked “west” through “India”, “Persia”, and “Egypt” when we found others and moved on to “Tunisia” and the food court. Each section displayed extravagantly stereotypical decoration, from “China’s” exterior renditio of the Forbidden City to “Egypt’s” representations of tomb paintings and “Tunisia’s” painted sky. At the same time, “China” also had vaguely Japanese looking aspects—the round moon gates for example—and “Persia’s” decoration could as easily have represented Turkey. Charlie commented on how the designated geographic areas affected only the décor: the stores within remained pricey international labels, although a few stores did cater to customers looking for specific regional souvenirs. The three largest “exhibits” regarding the travels of Ibn Battuta or the accomplishments of other Arabic/Islamic figures or scientists were found in “China” and “India” as well as near “Tunisia”. These included life-size rotating reproductions of astronomical devices, posters in Arabic and English explaining Ibn Battuta’s encounters with sultans, as well as general background information of the contexts and conditions in which he encountered the civilizations he reached. The “exhibits” were hardly the focus of the mall, while the stereotypical décor, at least visually seemed to be the motivation for having an Ibn Battuta-themed mall. (Although I do not think that this is actually the case.)

Interpretation:
One of the most interesting aspects of the Dubai mall experience has been learning to reconstruct my association of malls with the USA. Being in City Center, Mall of the Emirates, and the Ibn Battuta mall all felt as if they could have been anywhere in the USA. I have been to a few malls in other countries but these have always been small, or in the case of Oman, a large percentage of the clientelle of City Center wear dishdasha and abaya. In the Dubai malls, the racial demographics of the customers are comparable to American malls. I learned the importance of the other customers/spectators in the mall. Although I had previously interpreted time spent in malls as not qualifying as “cultural” or particularly “interactive”, in Dubai malls represent the manufacturers of culture, literally and figuratively. In my interpretation, a culture of purchase, self-indulgence, and egocentrism. Although I believe malls represent the same thing everywhere, in Dubai there exists almost no source of interaction other than shopping. Human culture, to my understanding, is the product of human interaction; in Dubai, “mall culture” is the hegemonic culture, supported by a voiceless though hardly invisible culture of expatriot laborers. The mall culture that I associate with one facet of American culture more legitimately could be associated with Dubai, the only place in my experience that has so completely endorsed consumption as a pasttime. What perhaps could once have been characertised as “American” has been reappropriated, packaged and sold as “exotic” to Americans, (and everyone else with the money to buy).
Ibn Battuta Mall in particular displayed a level of “mall culture” I had not yet experienced, the idea of turning a mall into a producer of soft propoganda. I say soft because the customer could potentially go through the entire mall and ignore the “museum” without a clue as to who Ibn Battuta was, interpreting the different regions as Even the idea of laying out the mall according to geographic regions quietly lays claim to these areas while professing merely to celebrate them.
I interpret the mixing of stereotypes and cultural markers to have more to do with assumed customer ignorance than with acknowledgement of the shared characteristics of many of the cultures depicted. Delineating them as monolithically distinct both encourages consumption of these cultures as commodities and re-enforces national pride, and perhaps spending impetus, that visitors from the countries represented might feel. I attribute the lack of emphasis on Ibn Battuta’s travels in Africa to the proportionally low number of African tourists in comparison to those of other backgrounds, as well as to the higher market value and exoticism of “India” than “Mali”. Visitors to the mall can “travel the world” in a Disney-like setting wherein they do not have to worry about disparity between expectations and experience. The situation is even more ideal therefore, under the lull of familiar aesthetic stereotypes of regions and comforting demarcation of regional boundaries, to slip in educational blurbs of Arab, and specifically Muslim, achievements. If the audience/customers do read the exhibits, they are primed to take them seriously; although I do not question their validity, (and any historical fact will put forth an agenda), I am pointing out the care with which it seems that the designers of Ibn Battuta Mall planned the dissemination of their message. I interpret the lack of representation of the Arabic cultures Ibn Battuta visited, (throughout the Levant and Peninsula), as resulting from the priviledged position of these countries, united by Islam, as the explorers, the “Self” that views and buys the cultures of the “Other”s.

Evaluation:
I had a disturbing sense of surreality during all of my numerous hours spent in malls. The idea of a whole city in which the only “real” or “honest” aspect of the culture is the contrived spectacle of a mall, while the “authentic” areas are entirely simulated, both with the sole purpse of encouraging consumption…as in Qatar, my emotional reaction swung from self-righteous revulsion to analytical fascination. In the Ibn Battuta Mall I felt torn between admiration for the designers’ ingenuity of using a mall to “educate” i.e. spread their desired pro-Islamic perspetive, and sadness at the recognition that many tourists would probably prefer to visit “China” and “India” than China and India. My reaction to the depictions of the achievements of Ibn Battuta and Arabs/Muslims, (and these were used interchangably, even to the point of referencing “Islamic mathematical equations”), remains ambiguous. Raised in a context of Europe as the object of attention and glorification, any alternative perspective understandably strikes me as biased. On the other hand, it re-enforces the constructed nature of history and its complete dependence on the historian. I feel that one of the largest gaps in my historical education encompasses the European Dark Ages when Islamic civilizations controlled empires comparable to those of Rome and Greece.

Field Study Journal # 33: Walking in Dubai
Recorded 09.11.07
Context, Location: Evening Walk Through Dubai
Time: Around 22:00, Thursday, November 8, 2007
Individuals Involved: Annelle, some SIT students
Coding:
! 1. Gender
(1.1 Norms, 1.3 Expectations, 1.4 Inter/Intra Gender Interaction)
@ 2. Religion
(2.1 Islam, 2.5 Social Gathering/Ceremony)
# 3. International Relations
(3.1 American/Arab Relations, 3.4 American Hegemony, 3.5 Tourism, 3.6 Emirati International Politics)
$ 4. (Emirati) Domestic Politics
(4.1 Government Policies)
% 5. Citizenship
(5.1 National Identity, 5.2 Expatriate Differentiation, 5.4 Race)
^ 6. Foreigner in the Gulf
(6.1 Outsider/Insider, 6.2 Being American, 6.3 Culture Shock, 6.4 “Social Scientist”)
Description:
A group of SIT students went out to walk from the hotel to the Creek. I had dressed in clothes that I could walk in without getting too hot, and that would be appropriate for a nicer restaurant. Some of us had to wait while others got ready; a few of us stood outside the hotel. The hotel lobby buzzed with the guests at an Indian wedding celebration and birthday, and the streets buzzed with what I assume where Hindu families or individuals celebrating Dewali, as well as the usual foot traffic. A group of us walked along Musallah road, thorugh numerous temporary sidewalks past giant cranes and torn-up streets. We arrived at an “authentic” looking deserted tourist area; the signs advertised galleries, shops and restaurants. We passed a few men with Indian features walking through this area, which was otherwise empty of people, unlike Al Musallah’s congestion. We arrived at the Creek, where more people, most with Indian or Pakistani appearances, also walked along the water. We followed the flow of people towards where we guessed would be an abra crossing; on the way we came to a part of the apparent souk that still had stalls open. Most of them sold belly-dancer costumes, Oriental slippers, and lavish looking fabrics, pillow covers, sequined kuma-like caps. I asked one the shopkeepers what the meaning of Dewali was; he said that it was a Hindu festival comparable to Eid or Christmas. He did not seem to understand when I asked what the significance of the festival was, or perhaps he did not know, and repeated his comparison to Christmas. After telling the man that we might return the next day, (rather than buy the wares he pressed on us), we decided to go to dinner at the Bayt al Wakeel, the alleged first commerical establishment in Dubai, built in 1935. We sat with other white people and a group of East Asian girls on the Creek-side patio. Our waiters spoke limited English and appeared perhaps to be Malaysian.
On the walk home while passing a hotel we overheard an older American man speaking. I did not hear everythinghe said, but the jist seemed to be a joking complaint that the prostitute he had hired had f***** him all night long and that he had to get up early the next morning for a meeting. We returned to the hotel.

Interpretation:
I do not know if the extremely high percentage of Indian-looking people represents the usual sidewalk occupants, or if Dewali brought out more than would usually stroll in the evening. I suspect that a usual evening would have fewer families out walking around together, particularly dressed in what appeared their finer clothes, although I think that Indian men such as those we saw sitting in clumps at cafes are probably a regular sight.
Dubai seems to be a city that is entirely based on consumption. Although perhaps the same could be said of many cities, I have never yet encountered a place where there seems to be no option other than buying something. And the power of money has a global racial dimension. Not to generalize, but to acknowledge the predominance of those of European-descent as those with money, sitting at the Creek-side restaurants, as compared to the people working to serve them in the shops, souks, and working as prostitutes. In Dubai the racial aspect of money feels more accentuated, somehow, (although I also observed many people who appeared very wealthy and not of European background, such as the Emiratis themselves, though they were few and far between). Perhaps I felt the racial divide so acutely because I did not experience any aspect of daily existence in Dubai, medical services, school facilities, etc. I only encountered the servers and the served. I do not know how to take comment from the American man. We talked about it afterwards; people asked how a person could speak that way about another person. To my understanding, peoples’ ability to see other people as less than human stretches from prostitution to warfare to sweatshops. Even, to some extent, the ability of any one with more resources to not immediately share with someone with less. Although we SIT students do not (to my knowledge) hire prostitutes, we are hardly blameless in our complacent consumption. The whole city works as a system.

Evaluation:
Standing outside the hotel and later walking to the Creek, I felt both more exposed and treated as an “observed object” than I have since leaving the United States.
Part of my reaction to Dubai has been to try to experience it from a nonconsumptive mentality—to buy only what I need to survive. And taxi fares to get to my assigned destinations. Then on the other hand, I do not know what I am trying to accomplish by taking this fairly snobbish attitude, other than self-congratulation. A large part of this is also generated by my limited budget; if I felt that I had a lot of money to spend I do not think I would be as opposed to the malls and souks, although I like to pretend I would. I had been wondering what it about the city felt so strange and unreal to me…I realized that perhaps the most straightforward sight of the night was the prostitutes lining the street, and the most honest comment was that of the obscene man. I do not know if the answer to such places or situations is to boycott them, work to change them, or get off my high horse and accept that prostitution, exploitation, and inequality can perhaps be regulated, but never eradicated.

Field Study Journal # 32: Thoughts Between Abu Dhabi and Dubai
Recorded 08.11.07
Context, Location: Driving into Dubai
Time: Around 20:00, Thursday, November 8, 2007
Individuals Involved: SIT students, Elizabeth, Sultan
Coding:
@ 2. Religion
(2.1 Islam, 2.4 Mosque)
# 3. International Relations
(3.1 American/Arab Relations, 3.4 American Hegemony, 3.5 Tourism, 3.6 Emirati International Politics)
$ 4. Domestic Politics
(4.1 Government Policies)
% 5. Citizenship
(5.1 National Identity, 5.2 Expatriate Differentiation)
^ 6. Foreigner in Oman
(6.1 Outsider/Insider 6.2 Being American, 6.3 Culture Shock, 6.4 “Social Scientist”)
Description:
Abu Dhabi’s manicured promenade, enormous road sculptures of national heritage symbols ranging from a cannon to a coffee pot, and sparkling sky scrapers give way to power lines traversing the desert to Dubai. The face of Sheikh Zaeed sneering from his poster at the ants scurrying to carry out the embodiment of his vision. The forestry projects, lines of delicate-looking trees lifting out of the sand. The sun sets amid a nest of wires as we descend upon another gas station to refuel, (ourselves if not the bus). A racially-mixed crowd drifts towards their snack of choice; East Asian men wait as Sultan buys tea for himself and the driver, Saudis buy lattes, SIT students fried chicken and chocolate. Outside the bathroom other women, apparently Indian, avoid our giggling gang and wait until we have left. On the bus again the window has been opened a crack; I smell diesel fumes from the highway, occasional whiffs of greenery if we pass a reforestry project, more often dust and sometimes garbage. Dubai’s jewelled crown of a skyline comes into focus, the almost-Burj Dubai queen above of all. Traffic congests in the veins of the highway, blood forcing its path inevitably through to the heart in spite of hypertension. The neon pulse of Dubai rises as shops cluster more thickly, climbing on top of each other and begging for attention, mostly in English, (as are the road signs, unlike Qatar).

Interpretation:
Whether this is accurate or not, I interpret the commercial, economic, and developmental policies of the UAE, as demonstrated by what I could see along the roadway from Sharjah past Dubai and into Abu Dhabi, as reflecting a policy of “consume me”. The “vision” of Sheikh Zaeed seems to exhibit an astute awareness of the principles of marketing: the customer is always right, therefore know the customer’s tastes, and tailor oneself accordingly. Yet as the citizens of the UAE have experienced, you cannot have it both ways. You must choose which will take precedent, the self or the consumer, i.e. the self through the consumer. Preservation of self, unadulterated and authentic, entails unwillingness to compromise one’s identity for the sake of the customer; presentation of one’s self or one’s country as marketable, either “authentic” or a profitable location for investment, or whatever commodity one seeks to embody, requires a flexibility that some consider a loss of self. In my interpretation, the behavior of Emirati students at the Women’s College and staff at the ECSSR exhibited almost a studied awareness of the West, in particular America. The library of congress system employed by the ECSSR library, the posters on the walls of the college concerning Bulimia and recycling; to my eyes these seem to shout “Look, we know your ways, we know what you like. Collaborate with/buy from/invest in us!” And thus the Emirates are easily snapped up by Westerners; any unfamiliar bits that would stick in the craw are snipped off little by little, such as the increasing availability of alcohol. The encouragement of consumption of the Gulf I found most present in the Emirates but appears as the goal of Doha and Oman as well, as demonstrated by economic and social policies. Thus the Gulf may become “Middle East lite”, where “culture” is packaged and presented in gift boxes at the end of the business meeting. In the case of the Emirates especially, the target customer seems to be the USA, despite the current weakness of the dollar. The question then becomes, if one has commodified oneself for a specific market, what will happen when the demand falls away, or another customer’s wallet grows thicker? I noticed many references to and displays of collaboration with Japan at the Women’s College; if or when Japan surpasses the US economically, will Abu Dhabi and Dubai morph accordingly to fit the appetite of the highest bidder?
I could be entirely wrong in my assumption that the target audience at the moment is America; perhaps it is a globalized world in which what I recognize as American embodies globalization as a product of American hegemony. My averse reaction to the American familiarity of driving through the lighted billboarded corrider of highway from the Sharjah airport could be entirely misplaced; perhaps when I experience stripmalls in the US they by rights ought to remind of Dubai. Or to remind me of nowhere, as the specificities of location are erased by capitalism’s need for homogeneity.
And yet I do not entirely believe this. Despite my acknowledged and inherent American-centered view which accounts for some of my misattribution of certain things to America, the United States has been the superpower throughout much of the process of globalization, and their (must I say our?) hegemoney is thus reflected. Therefore the targeted consumer of the new Gulf shopper playlands generally does carry an American credit card. I defend this with the statement from the student at the women’s college regarding her frustration with America’s lack of openness to cultural exchange. Although it is possible that she might say the same for Europe or Japan and her choice of America is dictated only by ourselves as American students, I believe that it is both America’s power and its deafness that engender global frustration, (on top of its self-interested policies).

Evaluation:
I empathize with the young woman’s exasperation; imagine making every effort to accommodate and understand and receiving complete oblivion in return. But as long as the relationship remains one of commodity and consumer, America can afford to accept only those aspects of the outside world that have been made familiar and fit for consumption. Whether eager for the “Arabia” of Hollywood or simply the stores they can get at home, I do not know how to feel about Dubai’s willingness to accommodate to every taste, from skiing to wine-tasting to…I imagine one could find anything. Why does it feel stranger here than at home? It is all the same stuff.

United Arab Emirates (UAE): Dubai

Testing

Publishing seems to have failed, although it works on my "Field Study Journal" blog...hm. Omani censors?

If this comes through--

I cannot seem to publish anything new

United Arab Emirates (UAE): Abu Dhabi

Two photos from the corniche in Abu Dhabi.

Doha

Doha, Qatar is...weird as hell. Imagine a city built without (apparent) need to consider weather, disease, animal, plant, or previous inhabitants (there weren't any). A blank natureless slate into which billions of dollars of oil revenues can be poured in an ever-widening stream. I can't decide if it is magical or horrific. Creative architecture that would else where be simply impractically pricey could be the norm here, yet it seems a bit that the contractors second guess themselves. Buildings are torn down as fast as they are built up in order to construct something even more impressive. They have just one shot to get it right, now while they have more money than they know what to do with, and then...the desert will simply take over agian it seems. I couldn't find anyone with a plan as to a non-oil future, (though I suppose this is a global phenomenon).
We just came from "City Centre"--a crop of sky scrapers under construction, some commerical centers open and ready for consumption, the whole area populated almost exclusively by the Southeast Asian workers. A metropolis built for no one. The Qatari population is tiny, they were previously Bedouin or pearl divers, (so say the history books, which only cover Qatari history in depth since it began in the 1950's). Qatar essentially=Doha; there is not much else. Sand. Oil and natural gas under the sand.

Not to say that I didn't enjoy it: we visited the Equestrian Center, (Doha is hoping, salivating really, over the chance to host the Olympics in 2016--they already have the logo on everything, although the decision is not yet made). No one minded us wandering in and stroking the noses of the rows and rows of GORGEOUS Arabian show horses. Then to the camel market and fruit market(tried camel milk for the first time, and sheep brain last night actually,as well as camel meat. Brain tasted like very fine slippery tofu, camel a bit gamey, camel milk sweet and light and slighty hay flavored. At the fruit market tried a custard apple, delicious, and unidentified thing like an unripe plum, both from India).Then to the Oman Market for "cultural" goods. Ha.

I just wonder if it is similar to how Europeans might have felt visiting America, Miami perhaps, in the years of boom construction. Money, optimism, consumption, no thought to the future nor the past, all in the gorgeous breeze and sunshine.
More later, and pictures.
On to the Emirates, which I am told is even more surreal.


About the photos: The recording center for Al-Jazeera English, workers in the still unfinished downtown area, driving to the airport in the sunset past huge billboards advertising future development projects.

Nizwa: City in Oman's Interior

Will describe Nizwa in greater detail soon, insha’allah. For the time being, this is just a sample of our week with families in the interior of Oman. (the girls stayed with families that is. It is hard enough to find families to take in foreign boys in cosmopolitan Muscat; in the interior this is not yet conceivable, and so the boys stayed with male university students).
I lived in Kersha, a cluster of houses around a rock outcropping kept green with a falaj system, (see the photo of the falaj, taken on the Jabal Akhdar Mountian in the town of Al Ayn). There are eleven kids in the family, and the oldest daughter married the next-door neighbor while I was there. The first day, (weddings here vary from two to seven days…sometimes occurring over the course of several months), I watched the men in the groom’s family slaughter a ram in the backyard. And then helped, a bit, with washing and separating the meat. This was far less disturbing than I anticipated. And it tasted delicious. The ceremony on that day, other than a big meal, involved the men going to the mosque, (the women and bride are not involved). The second day even more people came, and we sat on mats in the yard and ate cake and watched the bride and groom exchange rings, feed each other cake, and smile for dozens of pictures. The really big party will not happen until this summer, after she has graduated from high school and the house in his parents’ front yard is ready for them…
Although Nizwa is a small city equipped with all modern conveniences, (and therefore the “rural” homestay term is not entirely accurate), it has a very different feel from Muscat, as you can perhaps deduce. Sheep slaughter aside, there are many reasons for the distinction. This partly has to do with the fact that Arabic is the language of communication, (in Muscat the large expatriot population, both as unskilled laborers and professionals, not to mention the large Swahili-speaking population in which most of the SIT students live makes English the lingua franca). We arrived in the old souk, (see photo of hanging pots), full of Nizwa’s famous metal ware. Nizwa centers around a huge fort built in the 1600’s, (I am standing on top of the fort in the photo with the palms and mountain in the distance, while the other fort photo is actually a different fort). An important area strategically, and one of Oman’s former capitals, Nizwa fort was used as recently as the mid-1950’s by the forces of the Imamate in opposition to the rule of Sultan Said, (the father of the current Sultan). Interior “Oman” traditionally existed separately from coastal “Muscat”, ruled by an Imam and occasionally invading the coast in order to benefit from the riches accumulated from trade in India and East Africa. British needs for control, first to secure a safe sea route to India, later for the purpose of oil exploration and extraction, led to support of the Sultan and the end of autonomy for both the Imamate and the Dhofar region in the south, (as discussed with regard to the trip to Salalah).
Enough for now, have to get ready for the next excursion: we leave tomorrow for a week in Dubai, Abu Dhabi (UAE), and Doha, (Qatar). Will, neither of us was right in how to pronounce it: neither my elongated “qahTAHR” not your “cutter”. Apparently, the correct pronounciation is a combination: “QAHTrr”. Though perhaps I should wait and see how the Qataris say it. The excursion is ostensily to compare Oman to other Gulf countries, as well as tour Al-Jazeera and enjoy/shudder at Dubai's cash crop: malls and tourist attractions. It will be a bit of a shock perhaps after a week spent eating 5 daily meals of fruit, dates and coffee, sitting on the floor exercising our Arabic muscles. Will report back with an analysis of this quick transition, insha'allah, because when we get back our ISP period begins and we should have more time.

Note to everyone with whom I need to keep in better touch...actually this is everyone, but in particular those who are still waiting for replies to their much-appreciated emails: you are in my thoughts and on numerous bits of "to do" paper, and when I return and begin the period without classes I will be able to write! You are not forgotten...in particular, if you are reading: Will, what is up with colloquium and graduation? Jos, how is the final semester shaping up? Sam, how is the bike project, semester, general life as a Davidson superhero? Rental units, I received the birthday card and card from Grandpa--thank you! I am mailing postcards from the Dubai airport tomorrow--please let me know if they reach you!
To Uncle Hans, Eric and family: have been thinking about you a lot in preparation for Dubai. Am very excited, although I think that most of your wonderful recommendations, Uncle Hans, are a bit beyond my means. :)
Does Grandpa have the address to the blog? Could he access it, do you think?

Apologies...not sure if blog etiquette permits specific messages, but am running out of internet time!