RAIN

YES glorious rain!!!
After living in an arid environment for the past 8 years I have a bottomless tank for the love of these little wet drops.   It rains here a lot...and continues to not disappoint.  It has been raining for hours today, from the time I woke up there was a small pitter patter to the downpours that I am hearing right now as I write.  I love the smell that rain bring with it... it is so earthy.  It feels like it gives one permission to take the day a little slower than normal.  That one opportunity to sneak in that afternoon nap.  Or hide under a blanket with a cup of hot tea and read.

Whenever it rains here I always am a bit nostalgic too.. it reminds me of how we longed for rainfalls there... I don't really miss cleaning up after each rain... the leaking and flooding in my house.  Or the time it came through the door on the roof and ran all the way down the steps like a waterfall.  Right now I am all cooped up in this very tight house with my slipper socks and sweatshirt on watching it fall, as opposed to running after towels, buckets and moving furniture.
But, it would rain so infrequently there that any rain no matter how messy, it was always a welcomed friend.  Rain there would bring people outside... kids would play in it, grownups would stand in it, and immediately people got in their cars and drove in it, we soaked it up like a sponge...   It would usually only last a moment, but it was always enjoyed to the fullest.

SPONTAINAITY and loving it!!!

                                     When we heard that the Kelloggs were coming to America and arriving just miles from our front door we were so excited, so we decided we would meet them at the airport!!!  It was so fun to see them again... then I got a huge gift... while they slept at the hotel, they let me keep the girls over night!!!!!... with the understanding that we would bring them back to the hotel in the morning.  :)  Even in a month they have grown so much in every way!!!!!!!  

and we are all together again! What a precious gift.  I love how God provides those moments when you least expect them.  They are gone, now and it all feels like a dream...but that truly was the best all nighter, with a 4 year old, I have ever had... and to see the girls again and hear them laugh and say my name was worth every ounce of sleep deprivation.  Then to have breakfast at McDonalds with them all the next morning felt like old times.                                                              

My Friends... part 1

A while ago I thought a lot about how I wanted to remember my neighbors.  I knew that while some of them would allow me to take a final picture of them, there were some that would not.  Yet I wanted to take with me a photo that would remind me of them often.  One evening Marlen and I went to Fort Antiquities to look at Mandoos, dowry trunks.  We had not been in there a while and found that 1/2 the shop was redone. It was fantastic to be able to look at all these old items that were polished and displayed so well. Peter, the shop keeper has a tremendous amount of knowledge of the Oman History, plus he has resided in Oman for the last 28 years.  He told the most fascinating history of the things he had on display.  While Marlen was getting the history on some old guns, I looked through the cases that had pieces of old Omani silver.  He explained to me that the silver was dowry pieces of bedouin women.  There was a ring that caught my eye.  It was pretty plain, but instantly it reminded me of Marhuna.  The owner of the store was there as well and I told him how it reminded me of Marhuna, one of my dear neighbors and he just gave me the ring!!!  It was in that moment of finding the ring that I figured out I could photograph their hands.  Each one of my friends have served me over and over again in the last 8 years and they have loved me with their hand; pouring me coffee, peeling fruit, serving me dates and most importantly wrapping those hands around mine or embracing me to welcome me or show me how they felt about me.

MARHUNA: The oldest neighbor in my hood.  She is quite a remarkable woman, with her deep set eyes that are so kind and gentle. She has a very distinct way she carries herself.  She is respected among the other women and is always included in every affair.  She is widowed and lives with her brother and his wives.  Instantly, when I met her years ago I was taken with her.  I tend to gravitate to older people anyway, (it was instilled in me long ago when my own Gramma would taken me to work with her at the nursing home).  I would *coffee* with a group of neighbor ladies and it was at these coffee times that Marhuna felt like I needed to be introduced to the beauty techniques of the bedu.  There is a saffron paste that the older women apply in the mornings at the coffee time that will keep them smelling beautiful throughout the day.  She was like the official maker of the saffron paste and then she would pass it around to the ladies to apply.  I am not sure if I look just plain awkward in applying the paste or they felt like I needed an Omani hand in applying it, but without fail either Marhuna or Subha did it for me.  After they would apply it they would giggle and talk about me in Arabic, it seemed to truly make their day.  Later, I found out from some of the younger women that this was considered old fashion and they would not put this if their life depended on it!!!  It would be like wearing your mother's clothes!!!! I personally found it fun to experience the old bedu customs.  Marhuna with out fail would hug me every time I saw her on the street. She would walk out of her way to greet me in Bedu Arabic, always knowing that she would never get the response she was hoping for... me answering back to all her salutations... she would just look into my eyes and grin. Some of my favorite memories were those we made in my house.  I got such a kick out of watching her try to adapt to something so foreign as a couch and eating my food.  One day not so long ago, she came after Marlen's dad has passed away and I served them plums.  She ate the inside of the plumb, but took the skin and flung it towards the window.  I have the screens shut on our windows so flies don't come in, and that skin hit the screen and bounced off of it and onto the floor.  I laughed so hard on the inside.  Words cannot describe how different we are culturally and the grid she thinks through.  This picture of our hands is priceless to me.  I love her sense of style with jewelery.  She has great taste!

Moving Day... BitterSweet 5/3/10

Well. It came. Moving day. 

The day that brought our two worlds colliding in emotions, leaving the one we know and moving to the one we will once again learn to know.  One chapter ending and we flip the page to the one to come.  I think we all felt *REALITY* was finally here. Twelve hours of the sound of tape ripping, watching our earthly possession being bubble wrapped, boxed up and labeled was a day full of excitement coupled with the reality that our life here in Buraimi is over.  So, there was a sense of sadness that wafted through the air as well.  Bitter, yet sweet.  Inside the house where there was a lot of hard work going on, outside the house there was a lot of curious faces peering in and getting the first taste of their own reality.  Many neighbors stood at the gate and asked questions and watched the men as they worked.  Some came in tears and confusion wondering if we were leaving that very day.  Children took one last opportunity to play on the quarter pipe and run through our yard.  I loved hearing their giggles and laughter as they played there one last time.

one by one...

One by one we let go of things... today it was the car!!  I am not usually the one that gets super excited about cars, but my Dodge Durango... well I have to admit it was a sweet ride. After driving a white, 9 passenger van that receives absolutely no respect on the road... but is rather considered a nuisance and something to move out of the way for the Land Cruisers, Patrols and Beamers, I had a car that commanded respect as well.  I enjoyed that car to the fullest.  And, today it drove off into the sunset and it was just one more thing we checked off our list.  

 

**PAULADAYS**

Yep, you heard me Pauladays... I am taking my own holiday for the next couple days.  I am done, like burnt toast! In the last 2 weeks we bought a house in America, played tourist in Dubai, had moving company come and tear down our house and pack it up, said goodbye to Marlen and moved the rest of us into Al Ain. There has been too much sleep deprivation.  The next three weeks will be closing out our lives here and trying to finish well... So, glad we have time to do it in such a way that we can ease into the goodbyes.  :)

"BUT, IS IT A GOOD LIFE??"

How would you feel if this was your kitchen?  

This is what you cook on. 
This is what you cook with.
What are the first words you think of when you see this???   "what is that??"  "nice campground".

Years ago when Mike and Jen went back to the US for a visit someone came to Jen after they were sharing about our lives here and asked her this question, "But, is it a good life?"  This question has stuck with me for all these years.  Shortly after I heard this question I was able to go on a trip... it is one of my TOP 10 adventures of my life, so far.  I had a friend that took me to visit some of her friends living in remote lands around here, ie.. desert.   They live where there is a water supply and are nomadic people.  I will never forget how we got up early in the morning and drove for a couple hours, then just suddenly took our SUV off road and started driving in which seemed like to me an aimless direction.  Then, out of NOWHERE we found people... they were scurrying away to hide.  A couple children recognized the car and they ALL came out running towards us.  It was an amazing sight!  We got out of the car and we were surrounded by women and children giving us hugs and kisses.  I love the memory of being completely taken with these little ones.    The older women were so precious and you could tell they had been in the sun their whole lives.  THey were all weathered and their skin was all prune-like.  They wore gold on their ears, necks and wrists, but their clothes were thread barren.   They were all smiles.  It had been a long time since my friend had seen them and they needed to catch up.   They took us to their mats and sat us down.  They served us Arabic bread, dates and coffee, their staples, what they lived on.  An older woman took some dates and smooshed them between their fingers and placed it on bread to serve it to us.  Then they told stories of who had gotten married, who had died, how they started their children in school for the first time EVER that fall. Then they mentioned how in the fall they caught chicken pox.  The camp never had experienced this common childhood illness before and it terrified them.  They had no idea what it was.  It was at that moment that I realized what a *bubble* they live in.  Even though it is out in the middle of nowhere and they live in conditions that I wouldn't even camp in, they were not exposed to things you  or I normally are, because they have never left their environment, until now and that was only via their children.  People didn't really come visit them and share the common cold from the outside.  This was fascinating to me.  
It was then I started to ask the question about this life that was playing out in front of me.  "But, is this a good life?" 
I was overwhelmed as I sat there wondering why I was born with a roof over my head and this little child, I was holding, was born out here in the wilderness.  I tried to picture myself having a baby out here and wondering how I would protect it or keep it clean.  I tried imaging how I would sleep out here day in and day out, trying to picture every little bug that could possibly exist out there as I lay on the ground.  All the way home I pondered all that I saw.... tasted... smelled...asking the question, "Is this a good life??"   
These people seemed happy, content, they seemed to experience all of what relationships bring us in life, they experienced death and new life being born into this tribe.  So, it begs the question," what makes a good life"???  "Who determines what a good life is"? 
HMMM... We all have one life and we are all given it to live to the fullest.  I believe the women, young men and children I saw there that day were all enjoying life,  some more than others, but they were living the life the best they knew how.  The thing I loved about observing their life, compared to mine, it did not seem to be entangled with the cares of everyday life.  But, I am almost sure it had it's own own entanglements.  It was then that I realized I will never fully understand how God scattered his creation and placed them in this place or that, for this particular time and for this particular purpose.  I did understand a little more what that person was asking Jen years ago...here I was asking the same question,"But, God is it a good life"?  I do believe he answered me that day.  I know that this time with these people, that He created, was a significant turning point in my perspective and changed my thinking forever as to how I view the world.  He continues to change that perspective, and I am grateful for that.  There were many more things that happened that day... this by far was the most significant lesson I learned. 

One last bit... when Hannah and I got home that night we got horribly sick... we were sick for three days!  I found it kind of ironic that we entered their world and caught a bug.  That was probably the only time when I was sick that I was happy all at the same time. I It was a small price to pay for such a rich experience. 

HANNAH WITH A 100 YEAR OLD DOWRY ON HER NECK










HANNAH WITH SAFFRON ON HER FACE A TRADITIONAL BEDU BEAUTY TRICK

It is really happening

I see a trend here... coffee shop, chai tea, blog.  I think it is my only place to think quiet thoughts.
My environment is surrounded once again by men in white robes, really, they are a great stare.  The men have a way of relating to one another that is dramatic to me.  I wonder sometimes how we look to them.
Anyway... enough of them....
Well, what has been on my mind the last few days has been numerous things.  I am doing my *signature* sigh pretty much all day long.  My sigh is not a bad sigh, it is more a sigh that helps me breath as I take in all these new thoughts and ideas.  How many out there can picture me as a "metropolitan girl"??   Yah, I am having a bit of a hard time myself.  You know that saying, "bloom where your planted", well I am looking forward to seeing how I bloom in this big city.   I am actually getting really excited to see what unfolds on the other side.  He has led so clearly and we have grown in this new place of watching and anticipating... it is going to be exciting to walk this next path.  Now, don't hear me say I am expecting a cake walk... I am truly anticipating a bit of pain, but I know now from walking here that the pain is temporary compared to what is on the other side of what he wants to teach us. 

We went to pick up Marlen, he is back now... when he arrived in Dubai I realized he encompassed all of *my reality* and he was home to put in motion what our next steps would be and it burst *my world of denial*.  I must say just the sight of him was somewhat, a myriad of emotions.  He was filled with many new thoughts, ideas, and places he looked at for housing, information on schools and neighborhoods.  So that is where I (we) have been emotionally since he came home.  We have these incredible friends here that have hooked us up with with incredible people there that are helping us find our way long distance through the streets, schools, metro stops and all via pictures and google maps.  Marlen also got his official offer this week and we have started seriously looking for houses... he is planning to go on the first week in May to start his job.  That means we have 2 weeks to get the house packed, sold, and cleaned.  I actually am staying through the end of the month.  We are moving into Al Ain until we leave, the border is just getting to stressful and hard to cross these days.  Two days ago they were turning women around that were not accompanied by their hubby's.  The new rule states that if you are without your man you are not allowed to enter the Emirates unless you have written permission from him.  There is some more things you need too, but I won't bore you.   I went through the day this rule went into effect... I saw some women getting turned around, but I got through.  Crazy times we live in.
This morning I started placing stuff in boxes to be shipped... It is really happening.

MORE THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO HMMM....

okay one more tonight... You know by now that I love signs.  

Marlen and I saw this one outside of McD's the other day... it makes me smile every time I read it and ponder what a bedspacer is. 
 

MEN IN WHITE ROBES

I am hiding today in a little corner of a coffee shop.  I am waiting for someone to join me to have a long talk.  The sky has clouds today and I am on cloud nine. (I totally know that is corny to say, but I am just giddy today!!)  I went to bed last night at 8:30 and at 11:30 my phone rang and once again ... my world changed forever.  It was my brilliant guy calling to tell me he is packing us up and moving us to Washington DC because he got THE JOB.  After 5 months of unemployment and after walking this path... that has been so amazing and wonderful and hard and sometimes seemingly never ending... We have direction!!  I know this sounds so crazy, but it is so true... I wouldn't trade these past months for anything... at the same time not wish them on any one either. What an incredible way to leave a place that I have grown to love and call home. 

All that to say, the processing continues and I think I need to pick up the pace!  I think I am leaving sooner than I want to.  So, this post is about Men in white robes... or better known around here as disdashas.  I know the one thing I am going to miss is the diversity of dress.  I love how free people are here to express themselves in their cultural dress.  I love how you know where a person is from by the way they dress.  I remember feeling so out of place when I first began to walk around in this sea of black and white.  The women of course in their abayas and all black... and the men in their white robes with different colored styles of head wraps/hats.  So, while I am sitting in my hiding place I am observing the very essence of an Emirati man... His face is well manicured, He likes coffee, He likes his buddies, He likes his smokes, He is always wearing shades and he is always, always, always fixing his head wrap.  : ) Oh and one more thing.. he loves his PHONE!!!

I was remembering the times I went to Dubai to this particular shopping area.  They had a DOME cafe' in the center of the mall.  Seriously, EVERYTIME, I have gone, I've seen these same men sitting in the cafe', in a group of about 8 Emiratis talking, smoking and drinking coffee.  I don't know why but I loved seeing this over and over again.  It was something that was so consistent that it became a familiar thing to me.  I took numerous mental pictures of this one older man... I thought he would be a great subject for a photo shoot.  I often wondered what they found to talk about each and everyday they met.  
The other thing I was thinking a lot about through my years here is how do cultures get their style??? Seriously... how did this region pick the abaya and dishdasha when the Pakistanis and Afghanis picked these long shirts with baggy pants under them??? How did jeans become a staple in America??  What made them think that this was more comfortable than pants???  Also, how did the guys get the pick of the lighter colors?? Things that make you go HMMMMM.....

I am going to MISS walking in this sea of black and white... and watching them fuss over themselves looking just right.

THE MYSTERY OF HISTORY

This place is new for me but very familiar already.  I love it out here. Hannah and I have used it as a backdrop for some of our photography shoots and she has also used it  for some film work.  There are people that still live on the outer edges of these ruins. Most of the building in the area are barren and falling down.  There are some really awesome goats that run free out there.  One day when we were out there this car stopped and this British man, told us a bit of the history.  According to him, the whole place was closed off to the public until recent years.  This was the main market area about 50 years ago.  It is actually where they sold slaves.  He also mentioned that Hamasa was famous for an uprising here in the 50's.  There continues to be bits and pieces that are coming out of what took place there...I still would like to get the real scoop before I leave.  Recently, I met an Omani man that has lived there all his life.  How cool is that??? I have seen him a couple times since and he is going to let Hannah and photograph him under the tree where he played.  This is one thing on my list that I am pursuing...hopefully I will have another post that says the mystery is solved.  : ) 

          a home in Hamasa 

 

A Walk through the Souq

 

Inside this gate lies an array of fruits, veggies and Omani treasures.  The other day Jen and I and some new friends sauntered through and took in all the smells, colors and their version of taste testing.  

 

 But inside this  treasure trove the thing that is most intriguing are the people.  There are those that wave their prize tomatoes at you or tempt you with dates. Most likely you won't come out of there unscathed.  You will have in your hands bags full giving into the temptation to take home.  My favorite part of all is watching the locals shop.  I am always amazed (and so are shopkeepers) when I want only 5 carrots and they take out a whole bushel bag full. I ask for a few bananas and they take home a whole branch!  But, I also enjoy watching the men shop for their wives and families.  Most of the time the majority of shoppers are men.  Occasionally, there are a few women. The day we went there was this old man shopping for dates.  When I think of an older Omani man, he is what I think of... he was smiling, joking and very amiable.  I asked to take his picture and he hammed it up for me.  His camel cane, white dishdasha, guhtra and his Arab sandals are all the outer things that remind me of who these people are... but their is something about the Omani people whether you meet them on the street or in their homes a warmth and friendliness exudes from them... and I remember why I enjoy them so much.  

 

RACING CAMELS AT SUNSET

One of my favorite places in Al Ain is the camel race track at sunset.  It is so peaceful out there, with the only sounds coming from camel hoofs pounding the sand track and the Toyota Land Cruisers following along side them. I could sit out there and watch these racing beasts for hours. There is this whole *other* culture out at the track.  It feels very beduoin with a handful of farms scattered in the dunes. There quite a few people milling around out there, most of them are workers from other countries training the camels.

A racing camel with the little electronic jockey on his back.