Masirah Island and Merry Christmas

" I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end".

- Margaret Thatcher (1925 -)


Our last blog entry was all about our friend Tish and his visit to Oman. Unfortunately, Tish left at the beginning of a long holiday weekend. His flight departed at the pleasant hour of 4am and sleep deprived and weary we left at 7:30am for a camping trip. Wise planning.

We headed, with our good friends Lucas and Tennielle, for Oman’s largest island – Masirah. We had heard that getting to the ferry crossing at the earliest possible time was vital. We did not heed that advice and decided we were waaayyy to wise for these words. Five hours of driving later and we arrived at the “ferry crossing”. The scene was filled with piles of cars all vying for the opening that allegedly lead to a future boat. Having just missed a boat we began asking around about the ferry, etc. The predictable flurry of contradicting answers ensued with all having one thing in common – “tide going out, no good. Next ferry, than 7pm (dark).” Uh oh. So as the next floating collection of metal parts chugged into the “terminal” we got into our cars and joined the massive game of chicken. Forcing our way towards our rightful place in line we arrived at the loading point only to see all the cars had filled the deck. The deckhands all waved us on, and with swirling hands and wobbling heads convinced us to contort our car onto the rear loading flap. We grabbed anything we valued out of the car as they placed wood boards around
our wheels and raised the flap, lifting our car to a 45 degree angle. One wise gentleman kindly leaned his head into my window and said, “handbrake”. Yeah buddy, I got that.

Arriving on the other side we drove around the sparsely populated island and found a place to camp on the southern end. The scene is other-worldy. The middle of the island is piled with Hershey Kiss shaped hills, followed by gravel desert leading to the white sand beaches that ring the island. Vegetation was extremely limited and there was very little protection from the elements. The days were spent swimming in the crystal clear waters searching for the turtles that had dug holes on the beach the night before and watching herds camels feeding together. The nights were not as relaxing as they were spent holding our tents down from the winds that were tearing them from their supports.

We departed to a similar ferry scene taking the expected one hour and forty-five minutes to cross the 9km straight. Next time we’ll bring our own oars.


Christmas:

As you might imagine for a pair of Canadians celebrating Christmas in 30 degree heat is not the norm. For whatever Oman lacks in “festive spirit” we’ve been attempting to add our own as we decorate our 3 foot tree, download Christmas movies and I moonlight as Santa (I can’t lie about that one, Tina has pictures). We will be away for Christmas and are very excited for our trip.

We will be in Jordan and Syria for three weeks. We will be spending Dec 24th travelling on camels through Wadi Rum (Lawrence of Arabia) and staying in a Bedouin camp that night. Christmas morning we will ride the camels back and then head to Petra that evening. We are hoping to have Christmas dinner at the foot of the Petra site. We will fill you in on the rest when we return.

As excited as we are for our Christmas, we will greatly miss our family and friends this season. We wish you all the very best over the holidays.

Merry Christmas.

Tish's visit

"Only your real friends tell you when your face is dirty."
- Sicilian Proverb

We chose the quote above since that’s the kinda thing Tish revels in telling you about. Then, he brings it up in awkward moments for years to come. Classy man.

For those that don’t know Tish, he is a good friend of Tina and mine from back home in Canada. He came all the way out here to visit us, consume our limited alcohol supply, and see a piece of the Arab world. We gladly agreed to all three.

Tish arriving on a plane from Dubai seemed no problem, except for the fact that his flight was sandwiched between planes from India and Pakistan. Both of which were filled to the brim with labour workers that are hassled through customs and then herded onto a waiting bus to go to work centers. If it wasn’t for a few quick waves, our Canadian friend of Indian/Fijian heritage might well be still somewhere in Oman, wearing a blue one piece suit working way too hard. Heavily moustached faces wobbled in agreement as Tish and I exited the airport averting a near misunderstanding that would have lead to years of good banter.

In the first week in Oman we took Tish around our city and into the surrounding hills. We headed to the mountains as soon as he dropped the bags at the house and weaved through villages, past camels and palm oasis’ on the way to Oman’s highest peak. The rest of the week was spent in Souks (markets), beaches and around the city sites. After a few days we headed Dubai.

Shy of social commentary I will merely suggest that for all the economic brilliance of the Emirate it is an environmental catastrophe. But it sure is crazy. We drove in late at night and had no idea where our place was. We ended up in the old area of town and it was great. It was seedy, extremely fluid and very multiethnic. Our place catered to East African traders that were in town on passes as their boats lay in the creek. They could only enter town to go to the grocery store or trade goods. If they abided by the rules they could leave tax free (all this info comes second hand) Made for a lively lobby as the men piled their goods in the entrance and stayed up all night watching it.

The newer parts of the sprawling city are all the modern shopping malls, luxury hotels and audacious development that make Dubai the world’s largest water consumer and an architect’s dreamland. Indoor ski hills, island communities shaped like palm trees and the world, underwater hotels and 7 star resorts on the water left you shocked by the disregard for the environment, impressed by the architectural brilliance and humbled by your inability to afford any of it. We couldn’t even afford the entrance fee to walk into the lobby of the Burj Al Arab.

Apparently all of this development has helped Dubai to lower oil to only 2-3% of its GDP and will enable it to be prosperous beyond the drying up of its oil reserves estimated to be in the next 10 years.

After completing our weekend in Dubai we headed back to the border stopping briefly to rip around the red sand dunes wearing goofy helmets and giggling like little kids. We capped off the trip back in Muscat with some relaxing evenings outside and some days at the beach before we had to send Tish back to the cold realities of an upcoming Canadian winter.

It was great having him here and look forward to our next set of visitors soon. We would love to show as many of you as possible this wonderful part of the world.

Enjoy your holiday seasons. You are in our thoughts.

Lesson Learned

After a day's walk everything has twice its usual value.

-George Macauley Trevelyan


Many apologies for the delay in writing. As always excuses will fill the first paragraph and then we will get onto our stories.

We helped host the school volleyball finals for the region - hosting schools from Kuwait, Qatar, UAE, Syria and Oman. Report cards were due and Tina was helping with our school's musical production. All took time and energy away from sitting here and typing away. Excuses over.

For some time now a few guys at school and myself had been wanting to do this trek we had heard about. Rumour had it that it was a 24 km, old donkey trail, 2100m rise and fall, 2 day, hike through barren, empty hills from the coast to the interior. We would split into 2 groups of 4 starting from either end, pass each other in the middle and drive the other groups truck back home on the final night. Our group had tons of experience with guys that have done the Pacific coast trail, written books about trekking through Egypt, etc. No problem we thought. So on we went.

Our group of 4 started at the ocean and after a 400m climb on the wrong trail, came back down to have the boys of the village lead us to the start of the proper trail. This "trail" was nothing more than sporadic paint markings on stones made for travellers coming from the opposite direction. With no landmarks we relied mainly on GPS and old notes about the trek. The heat rose sharply and we started going through our water much faster than we had anticipated. For many km's we followed the bells of a couple of donkeys we saw earlier on the path. Passing only a cave village, the odd goat and two young herders the entire first day we "had the place to ourselves". We realized quickly that we would not make our agreed upon meeting point to camp with the group coming the other direction so we trudged on past an old cemetery until night fell and laid down as the sun sank.

At dawn we rose to cover as much ground before the sun became too strong. We finally passed our friends we were to have met the night before. Neither group looked good and neither group passed on good news to the other. We left knowing we all needed to hurry to beat nightfall and ration our water as we were all down to our final 2 litres (started with 6.5L). At one point our group of 4 was lost, with precious little water, and completely exposed in scorching heat. We were greatly helped by finding an abandoned donkey trough and drinking from it, along with finding the occasional cave to huddle in for shade.

After 10 hours of hiking on the final day we trudged into our destination and savoured the water in the nearby village. The other group arrived at our starting point (their end point) hours later. They were in tough shape and the boys in the village below carried water up to them and helped them make it down the steep decline in darkness.

We collected our stories today and have been totally humbled by the desolate elements. Lesson learned. That mistake won't be lost on any of us.

Meanwhile, Tina had a "girls weekend" with one of the other halves of the treking guys. Her weekend was a world away; filled with lounging by the Grand Hyatt pool, sipping cocktails, watching 'Biographies of Supermodels' and relaxing. Sadly, where she had hoped to get a manicure and pedicure had no available appointments - should teach her to pre-plan. No debate here on the smartest gender.

We are very excited to be getting our first visitor from home. Tish arrives next week and we are going to take him to Dubai and out to camp in the sand dunes near our place. Should be great and for those of your that know Tish, it will be full of ridiculousness.

Thanks again for the many notes that you have passed on and the mail we've received.

Eid Mubarak!

“I like this place, and willingly could waste my time in it” – William Shakespeare

In our last entry we quickly tried to explain the Ramadan holiday in Oman. At the end of the month-long fasting period comes a holiday called Eid ul-Fitr. This is a brief period of family time and feasts to rejoice the end of Ramadan. The Sultan here decided to extend the holiday time to a week for all private workers and we took our cue and headed off camping with two Dutch friends and their visiting family members.

They had heard of a beautiful place called “Bar Al Hickman” that’s a little peninsula that juts off the east coast in the center of the country. Armed with directions from 2001 that consisted of “drive through a village till you see a cluster of trees, then head south across the desert until you hit the water”. Filled with doubt about these “insightful tips” we followed them and it was spectacular. 7 hours after starting out we hit the cluster of trees and got out our compass and drove through hard sand, soft sand, salt flats and small dunes until we saw the turquoise water and white sand beaches of our destination.

We spent three days in our chosen site with the vast desert behind us and the beautiful ocean water in front of us. Our interactions consisted of Pink Flamingos in the sky and in the water, Giant Turtles swimming in the water and Camels lumbering around our tents. Although the cyclone of last summer hit the area hard there were few remnants of damage, except for a fridge that was somehow plopped down in the middle of the sandy desert. Truly ironic as our cooler quickly ran out of cold we started eating foods of questionable quality towards the end our trip.

A hard life spent snorkelling, swimming, laying on the beach, playing desert bocce, star gazing, and enjoying our friends company. Alas, the week had to end and we got back on the long journey back the Muscat. Roads here in Oman are never dull as they are filled with goats, camels, wandering locals, racing cars, and over stuffed expats vehicles. The mixture of all of these keeps the entertainment comedic and is fodder for easy conversation.

As we head back to work we wanted to pass along our best to our family and friends and thank you for the emails and comments you’ve sent us.

“Eid Mubarak”

Heroes in a half shell

We turtles don't know the meaning of the word 'defeat'.
-Leonardo (intellectual leader of TMNT)

"Tonight, I dine on Turtle Soup"

-Shredder

For the previous month here in Oman, and for Muslims around the world, it has been the holy month of Ramadan. Most stores are closed during the day, business runs painfully slowly and the streets are relatively empty as all devout Muslims abstain from food and drinks from sunrise to sunset. In Oman, it is illegal for anyone to be seen eating or drinking (Tina’s midday bake sale in front of the nursery school across the street was in poor, poor taste indeed).Through this time we have tried to get out of town as much as possible and take in the natural beauty of the country.

Oman possesses one of the largest sites of migrating giant turtles in the world. Since both of us being massive Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fans we loaded up the car and migrated. A violent hurricane (cyclone here) hit the area last summer and we couldn’t get any news on the current conditions of roads or infrastructure. So in our infinite wisdom we shrugged our shoulders and drove. Travelling through dirt roads, around construction vehicles, sign-less routes and having no experience we were soon doubting our “wisdom”. We emerged on a newly paved dual carriageway with no lines or signs, that failed to appear on any of our maps. In this country where the labour speaks Hindi, the bosses speak Arabic and we speak English everyone just kept smiling and waving. We can’t understand each other at all but at the very least it was pleasant.

The road wound beautifully through coastal villages lined in tourquise water, by palm filed wadis, around roaming camels and dropped us off into the beautifully barren landscape of our destination. – Ras Al Jinz . Ras Al Jinz is home to over 20,000 migrating Turtles per year. The Giant turtles emerge from the sea in the middle of the night and haul their huge bodies (as big as 160 kg!) onto the beach and lay between 60 – 140 eggs at a time. They then spend the rest of the night digging a separate large hole in the ground to trick the birds, foxes and crabs that prey on the baby turtles. We camped beside the beach and watched them late at night as they crawled along the beach. We estimated 25-35 of these plodding creatures visited the beach through the night. (As a side note we didn’t see a single Hare challenging any of them to a “rematch”). At sunrise they were crawling out of the holes they created and “speeding” towards the crashing surf with baby turtles hurrying to reach the water.

On our way back up the coastal road we pulled over to speak with an old Omani man on the side of the dusty road. We was walking to a town that was a 2 hour drive from there. We exchanged smiles (a quick exchange as he had precious few teeth) he climbed in the car and gave us a tour of the coast – the extent of his “English” was town names and “this” as he pointed the way. In exchange for his help we exposed him to an array of music including Nellie Furtado and the Pussy Cat Dolls. We have cemented our place in an unfavourable afterlife I am sure. I may have seen a hint of a “cabbage patch” and “running man” combination in the rear view mirror but sadly I lacked the Arabic skills to ask him for any pointers.

We hope you enjoy the pictures and to all of you in Canada, Happy Thanksgiving. We’ll eat an extra Shwarma for you on Sunday.... after sunset of course.

Day to Day Details… by Tina

“You will never change your life until you change something you do daily.”

– Mike Murdock

In an effort to be informative albeit maybe not quite as interesting or eloquent as our previous Blog entries, I’ve decided to give a bit of a run down on a few of the things we encounter in daily life in Muscat.

1) The School:
The campus of the school where we work is actually quite impressive. It contains probably the most greenery in one place that we’ve seen here. Although the searing heat has limited my touring of the 1 KM squared campus, from what I’ve seen it is very nice. The fields have grass that feels like turf and the cost to maintain the grounds is astronomical. This is because although labour is extremely cheap in Oman, the grounds must be watered with ‘drinking water’ quality H20 because the fields will be being used by children.


The main entrance is through the doors in the round part of the building (commonly known as the Rotunda). My office is found on the second floor and looks out into the rotunda space and is quite substantial in size as two people used to be in it. Joel’s office, on the other hand, was one of the last office’s to be assigned. My belief is mainly because they were unsure whether to condemn the area due to air-con leakages/ mouldy concrete or because it is actually just the back area of the PE storage room and they weren’t sure where else to stick the new PE guy. Either way he is yet to be hooked with a telephone, no one can find him because you actually have to leave the building to enter his office and he often finds some of the Indian workers from the cleaning staff (fondly referred to by Joel as his new friends) taking ‘siestas’ in his office on their breaks.

2) Grocery Shopping;

One of the first warnings we received regarding this essential part of life was to avoid going between 7PM – 10 PM. Advise we both just assumed was ridiculous because we figured we could overcome any obstacle Oman could throw us. In Oman, it seems that family shopping time is 7-10 PM after they have been to Mosque for prayers following sunset. The result is a ‘high collision zone’ in the parking lot, long lines at the ‘vegetable weigh stations’ and cashiers and basically utter chaos involving too many shopping carts in one place at one time. People are all very friendly though, and to make it though all you need is to breathe deeply and not be in a rush. Needless to say we have adjusted our shopping times and have started following advice we receive.

We shop at two main Grocery chains here. The first is called ‘Lulu’s Hypermarket’ which turns into a giant Las Vegas- style lighted building come sunset. Our ‘on the way’ home grocery store is called Safeer Hypermarket, although not quite as clean or containing as good of a selection, it is well …on the way home. We haven’t had trouble finding any of the things we love from home; they have almost all we need from Doritos to Tostitos Salsa. The only thing sadly missing is really nice fruit and veggies… but go figure we are in the desert. (Oh yeah no perogies either)

3) The Gym:
Most people here become members of a 5-star hotel such as The Intercontinental, The Hyatt or the Radisson for their Gym needs. However, at ~1000$ per person per year, I guess it can be said that we cheaped out and joined a local health club called the Future Gym that is below where some of our co-workers live. It has a Mixed Gym area and a Women’s area. We both find it quite interesting to be in our respective gyms and see the local Omani’s come into the change rooms in their full traditional wear and come out in lycra and tank tops to get their sweat on, especially the women!

4) The Shwarmas!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with these wonderful culinary creations, we suggest you get down to the Middle Eastern/ Lebanese area in your parts and pick yourself up some of these delectable treats. Shwarmas consists of a pita slathered with garlic mayo-y stuff and filled with shavings of meat (either chicken or lamb) that have been roasting on a rotating spit for who knows how long, the occasional French Fry and just enough lettuce to make us believe this is actually better for us than a Big Mac.

There are many of these cafes that serve Swarmas in our neighbourhood but after a good two weeks of careful exploration we have decided on a neighbourhood favourite. It is the Istanbul Reef Cafe where one large (we can only assume) Turkish man sits at a desk outside (a la Godfather style) and barks orders at the men that run from cars and tables taking orders from customers and the large sweaty man that stands beside the roasting meat and creates the swarmas single handedly. They are fast and cheap ~ 70 cents (how can we afford not to.) And since this place is also on our way home, we have often looked at each other on the drive from school and said one word… ‘shwarma’s… and dinner that night is served.

5) Hummus- Sweet - Houmous (However you want to spell it)
From those of you who know me… you may know of my secret love for hummus. It is not beyond me to admit that I have been known on occasion to make a quick stopover from work or school and purchase a vat of hummus and some pita bread and chow the entire vat in one sitting. The only reason this didn’t occur on a daily basis was because of in my opinion the astronomical cost of deli made hummus!!
Well, being one of the best Middle Eastern creations since well oil (?), this stuff comes cheap here! In fact Joel and I purchase the stuff in cans! It has become a great after school treat that I can finally enjoy at 25 cents a can!

It takes all kinds

“In the sky, there is no distinction of east or west; people create distinction out of their own minds and then believe them to be true”
-Siddharta Gautama (founder of Buddhism, 563-483BC)


This week we attempted to finally get our tent set up and drive up to the mountains. A really cool older couple upstairs invited us along on a “star-gazing” trip with a group of their friends. Now, Tina and I try not to judge as best as possible but “star gazing” has never been on our “wild weekend” agenda. For the purpose of blog research we heartily agreed. The couple that invited us warned us with a few stories so we were pumped for the ridiculousness of it all.

In a place like Oman you have three distinct sets of people. The local Omani, the Indian and Pakistani workers and the European/Western expats that work in the Oil/Telecom/Education industries. The star-gazing group was made up of middle aged families and elderly gentlemen from the Oil industry. Armed with “The sword of Jedi” (a laser beam pointer that can bloody well touch the stars) and “The 20 inch Obsession” (these are their names not mine.) we headed out. We went up the highest mountain range in Oman and settled at a barren plain along the edge of the ridge.

The location was superb, the stars actually were amazing and the solitude of it all was remarkable. Just when Tina and I thought we were far outclassed by the Astrological wit of our company the main speaker started to wig out over the bugs and began waving the Jedi Sword around, slapping himself, spraying wildly and crashing into things, while another man was patiently explaining that “yes the horizon did change in the southern hemisphere” over and over again to a gentleman that seemed more concerned with the star that the wise men followed to find Jesus. What’s that saying about being "safe as long as you’re faster than the slowest in the herd"? Thanks to this guy we were safe.

We left the next morning and decided to go up and over the range and through the villages below. A steep, windy, dirt path lead us through the various angles of the mountains and through tiny Oasis villages as we splashed through the streams and marvelled at the will of the inhabitants. The total seclusion of these small villages is truly remarkable. They formed generations ago at the site of a water source from the mountains above. At the edges of these steep slot canyons the villagers persevere and continue the only life they’ve ever known. So we held out Coca Cola, showed them images from the Tabloid magazines, downloaded some reality TV shows to show them what they are missing in the West. I don’t think we won over any converts.

I’m sure our invitation to the next star gazing trip has already been lost in the mail so we are really excited about getting out a lot in the next few weeks to camp in the desert and explore more of the uninhabited coastline. The country truly is beautiful (my visitors pitch again) so if you are thinking of coming you really couldn’t be disappointed.

We will write more often as we have just gotten the internet hooked up at home. Our Skype is ready to go!

Talk to you soon. Hope all is well where you are.

"If god wills it"

Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights. It is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the idea of living.

-Miriam Beard

With an infinite number of excuses for not putting another blog entry up we will simply say “Inshallah”. That meaning will become clearer, later.

In the time since our first entry we have been trying to get firmly set up here. Of all the day to day elements that make up living in a new place we had to buy a vehicle. We finally decided on a KIA Sportage (aka the cheapest 4WD in this market) and have taken it off-roading already – the front of our house is a bumpy desert so we’re counting that as “off roading” for now. I have a strong suspicion that this truck is going to find its way up a Sand dune in the very near future.

Through the effort to buy this vehicle we came to learn a word synonymous with the Middle East, “Inshallah” it means literally “god willing”. But in business it means, “Someday but not today”. Nice. For instance the bank had our wire come in and called me each day telling me to come in to pick it up but to no avail. Each day I spent an hour in the office waiting until I heard these responses on separate days: “I thought you were someone else (he honestly said this.), “the main computers are down in the main office (bull....)”, “there has been a power outage in Ruwi "– the East Indian part of town (now, I have no idea how this effects a money wire from Canada but apparently it does), and finally, “we don’t have enough money right now” (sweet). Eventually the excuses ran out and the money was ours…..Inshallah.

Of course we started our time spent funding our adventures here by dealing with students to the steady ringing of bells. Our “international school” has over 33 countries represented in the middle school – most prominent are North American, Omanis, Nigerians, Koreans, Lebanese, other Gulf countries, and the Danes. The classes are small, the kids are very pleasant and the staff is extremely positive and active. Tina is doing very well in her new position and has started dispensing black market drugs to students and teachers as a “side income”. (Just kidding). In addition, she has mastered the art of photocopying, can file with the best of them and has officially destroyed her first color printer. A natural.

After an evening at the US Ambassadors house drinking on the US tax payer we took off with an Aussie couple and headed 2 hours into the interior. Through the rocky hills we came to a flat palm oasis where the former capital of Nizwa sits. We toured the fort and old market place where Bedouin caravans would bring their goods to trade after their venture through the Arabian sands. The next morning the Bedouin ladies hit the goat market and haggle rather viciously over the use of some of Nizwa's finest on four legs. As our goat quota is full we didn’t stick around to haggle.

Getting out to the East Coast has given us a chance to get out of the city-life, see our first camels, hang out with the goats and soak in the crystal clear water and empty beaches. In an effort to do some recognisance work for all visitors planning on coming (this is my recruiting pitch) we have found 2 beautiful locations less than an hour from our place where you can spend the day in warm surf and empty beaches.

As a final piece to our blog I must describe a truly bizarre part of life as an expat in Oman. This is a staunchly Islamic nation and drinking is illegal….sort of. As an expat you are allowed to purchase a “liquor licence” that allows you to spend 10% of your monthly wage per month on alcohol. So we went down to an unmarked building in the Indian part of town and got these passport books as ID’s that they fill in each time we get alcohol. There are three main shops that people know of – they have no windows and have names like “African Eastern” “Hamid Import and Trading Co.”, and make no claims of alcohol. Inside is reasonably priced fun. It is illegal for anyone from a nation where alcohol is prohibited. Another reason I love the Great White North.

Thanks for taking the time to read or comment, we love sitting around our dial-up computer and reading messages from home. We will write sooner this time and will get more pictures up…….Inshallah.

Arriving in Arabia

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -- Mark Twain

Our first installment in the Middle East.....

After a 27 – hour, multiple flight day, spent sitting in border line-ups, running through airports (we’re getting old and slow), nearly missing two flights, spending a night attempting to figure out how to best strangle the worst plane snorer of all time, we finally arrived in Muscat at nearly 11pm local time. On the final flight we realized that we had missed out on the latest fashion trend (high school flashback)– I wasn’t wearing a long white robe with a hat and Tina was not wearing her best black robe and head covering. Who knew?

At the gate two young gents in local white robes (‘disdasha’) greeted us and treated us to Arabian coffee as they took care of customs. Our Director, principal and staff member greeted us and took us to our new home – Muscat, Oman.

Oman is a country of just under 3 million people with 500,000 of that being expats from the Indian sub-continent. Up until 1970 there was 2 primary schools, 1 hospital, 7 km of road (only to be used by the Sultan), extreme poverty, and a divided people. Now there are thousands of schools, many hospitals, paved roads all around the capital city, women in all levels of government, fishing as their largest industry (not oil) and signs of modern industry everywhere. In all this growth they have been careful to keep their heritage. It appears that 90% of the people still wear the traditional clothing, attend the mosque, and adhere to traditional practises – all while driving cars and text messaging on cell phones.Very cool.



We awoke in our new ground-level home and couldn’t be happier. It’s an Arabian designed home with huge (12 ft) ceilings, and multiple rooms all spinning off of a giant middle room (perhaps a Camel stable?). I quite enjoy playing “Marco Polo” around the house, although Tina’s rolling eyes would indicate that I may be the only one.


We are mere blocks off the beach so we took an early morning stroll to the water. While waving to the Pakistani workers we walked through the palm trees, stepping on dates and drinking in the thick, humid air that was already pushing 40 degrees at 8 AM. We dipped our feet in the worlds most sought after water straining to see Iran in the distance and watching the fishermen ply their trade beside us. The country has been immensely impressive from a cultural perspective and we are looking forward to starting work and taking trips to the interior regions in the coming months.

As our house gets hooked up we will try to send updates as much as possible.