Friday, December 28, 2007

Roundablock (or two): Google Earth Edition

Okay. Gonna try to go back to multiple small posts and spare your scrolling fingers a little. Here are some shots of the environs around our complex.

The Main Gate (whoddat sexy thang?):



And a shot of the corner store sandwiched between the "saloon" and a little restaurant/sheesha bar where I smoke all my sheesha and looka:



Our mosque--one of four within 1000 sq.m. of our place: kinda like being in Utah, only with muslims:



Singin' in the . . . sun:



Poverty is never far away. While there are newer neighborhoods that are exclusively upscale (and under-serviced), most of the seven original villages--Jahili, Mutaredh, Muwaiji, Markhaniya, Jimi, and two others--now organized as "communities," are a mix of older, poorer, and cramped worker quarters and posher row houses and compounds. This is 300 m from our place.



Another of our neighborhood mosques:



Hey! Chickens CAN fly! (If they're magical, that is.):



Al Murabba'a Fort:



And speaking of magic . . . carpets. Typical storefront (non-mall, anyway). These are places you would be expected to dicker. Along this particular strip you can buy toys, coats, canes, sheesha pipes, rugs, drugs, and bugs.



Looking under the flyover toward the Shaikha Salama Mosque:



Shakha Salama Mosque R/A (Fountain Roundabout) at rest:



The Mosque itself (sideways? yes. dang. will upload iLife this week and get this fixed):



Careful: man in dress crossing:



My bumps! My bumps! My lumpy speedy humps! (No, Ryan. Not that kind.):




For Google Earth geeks, here are our coordinates: /Users/jonathonpenny/Desktop/Penny House in Al Andalus.kmz



And now, just a fragment of the afternoon call to prayer. The footage doesn't matter. One of these days we're going to get a digital audio recorder and post all five from one day, with scintillating information about each.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Ho! Ho! Ho?


[from threesources.com]

Well, it's that time of year: the sun is shining, the pool is a clear, crystal blue, the weather has cooled off just enough that we have only one room requiring air conditioning at night, the flowers are in bloom, and our tans are a medium brown. Yep, it's Christmas in the Arabian peninsula.

Ah, how the old traditions warm our already warm hearts: hummus cakes on Christmas Eve, shawarma-on-a-stick for Christmas dinner, date pies, date jellies, date ice cream, the sounds of chanting and rousing anti-Western sermons drifting over from the mosque; it really is the most wonderful time of the year!


[by Brian McMorrow, goworldtravel.com]

What's fun is seeing how the Emiratis "get into" the Christmas spirit--in superficial ways, of course. The draping of lights corresponds with the National Day celebrated on Dec. 2 this year, and Eid al Adha, which is in full sway at present, so they'll just leave all the deco up through Christmas. Apparently some Emiratis buy Christmas trees and exchange gifts, but this is just another reason to party, not a chance to honor the birth of Christ: prophet he may be in the Muslim worldview, but not the prophet.

Every mall and most stores, however, do something to signal their business savvy and cash in on the expat appetite for things Christmasy. There are full-on displays, including a tree that straddles the escalator in a mall in Dubai, and is at least 50 ft. high. You hear Christmas music playing almost everywhere--but the secular stuff, not hymns, unless the stores are owned by non-muslims. Nativity scenes are available as well, but these aren't displayed prominently.


[from dubaithoughts.blogspot.com]

The upshot is that, while Jon still has to work on the 24th, 25th, and 26th (only for a couple of hours on Christmas, thank goodness), we are left unmolested in our celebrations. We've decorated modestly, and tried to connect with traditions from home. We have been reading Christmas stories in the evening, hosted a branch potluck yesterday where we compared cultural and family traditions, hope to find a service opportunity for next week, and plan a full-on Christmas dinner with the works (minus ham, which is available, but costs a tail and a snout) and two "bachelors" for company (J. Shewell, whose family is in Korea, and L, Ylanan, whose spouse works in Abu Dhabi). We'll even manage to get some skiing in: at Mall of the Emirates in Dubai, which has an indoor ski hill and snow park (environmentalists, avert your eyes).

So we'll miss you, and maybe even the snow (but not much), but look forward to our own little Christmas here in this strange place 3 hours by plane from where Christ was born. Alright, so it's a weak connection but hey, we take what we can get. We'll be thinking of all of you in your wind and snow-blasted homes, gathering around fireplaces, surrounded by loved ones, and up to your eyeballs in wassail and pumpkin pie. We hope you'll think of us over here in our sun-baked villa, gathered around the Wii, surrounded by tolerant indifference, and up to our eyeballs in mirinda and pistacchio ice cream.

Our collective love and best wishes to you all: Merry Christmas, and God bless you, every one!

And now individual greetings.

Riley: I miss the snow! Merry Christmas.
Christopher: I miss you, and Merry Christmas!
Jonah: Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Happy Christmas! Melikilukilake!
Wendy: Thinking of you brings you nearer to us. We have such happy memories of Christmas at home. Here's hoping we get to experience it again. (And now she's fighting back the tears.)
Jon: Auguri di Natale. Vi vogliamo tutti molto bene! Eid Mubarak!



And something fun to leave you with: a little SCT . . . P!

Friday, December 14, 2007

Mercifully Brief

Enjoy the following video in THREE EASY STEPS:

1) rotate your head 90 degrees to the right, or rotate your monitor 90 degrees to the left,
2) laugh uproariously (snorting is optional--no donkey laughs, please),
3) wet yourself.





I could spring for Quicktime Pro and turn that around for you, or I could go and refilm it, but considering it took me 4 months to get it the first time, I think we'll just leave it as is. What say?

Here's something we've blogged about before: it's more, um, interesting in person, but snapping a shot is tricky. So here's the leader of the "free" world demonstrating with the help of the House of Saud:



"Bushie, I wish I knowing how for to be quitting you!" Don't we all.


News this week: Christopher returned safely from a three-day school trip into the desert, during which he rappelled, sand-boarded, dune-busted, man-eating ant-helded (parallelism trumps grammar), camel-rided (again), port-a-potty-potty-ed, and several other hyphenated-ed things. He had a blast, and is a better man for it all. We're very proud that he dove in like a Cahoon (Mom, you know that the Pennies, me excepted, of course, are panzies when it comes to the New, especially if the New involves the potential for death) and survived like Robinson Crusoe.

Also: school concert.



He's got rhythm. Just not sure which.

Next week: more signs of the climes to make you chortle (or at least chuckle, Amber--maybe snigger, if we get it wrong, or guffaw if we score big). Update on the Big Eid-y. Perhaps a comment or two about the Christmas concert I participated in this evening.

Shout Outs:

All y'all for making last week's the most commented on post thus far: so two were double posts and one was Wendy (how dare she speak for herself without written and rubber-stamped permission from the Y-chromosome!), but still: good showing.

Some clarifications: hmac (good to hear from you, by the way), some Bible, some B o M. Be happy to explain by email.

mom penny: mama c is Erin (Darren's trouble and strife), not Joanne. Joanne is gramma c, but only rarely posts comments for . . . reasons. Don't really know. But yes, you are both lucky to have such handsome grandsons. It was a dirty job, . . . .

Mark: Wha?

adam: we went right out to the Tweety Saloon and got Jonah's hair cut. Or rather his bowl cut. Scary moment there. Also, they don't call me Francis Ford for nothing. Actually, they don't call me that at all. But maybe they should.

Saw two movies last week: Elizabeth and Michael Clayton. Where, you ask? In the theatre in the mall five minutes from our door. Great popcorn, some other weird snacks, and twittering little twits of adolescents being very obnoxious during Elizabeth. It was almost as bad as going to a movie with Joanne (sorry, mom), who laughs at all the inappropriate moments, and Drew (sorry, Dad), who makes whole cities cower in fear with the sound of his munching.

Neither recommended, by the way. (The movies, I mean.) Meh.

Peace out.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

O(h)Man(!)



Alright, so here it is: a week late and four contributors short. Everyone's out for the count except me, and I'm dealing with a bout of insomnia, so I guess I'll pound this out: Mama C, c'est pour toi! The rest of you can read it, too.

So yeah, we went to Salalah last weekend: 9 hours of driving to the southern coast of Oman.



We took some back roads, but these were well groomed highways, even though they were through the "Empty Quarter," which you should google or look up in an encyclopedia for context. In sum, it's a big, bad desert, and the likely place of Lehi's wanderings.



In fact, the purpose of our visit to Salalah is that it is widely believed by scholars and amateurs alike that that the Dhofar region of Oman is the land Bountiful. That might not mean anything to some of you, though I think non-relatives and all but a few close friends stopped watching this channel a while ago. So anyway, yeah.

We went with the Stewarts (formerly of Red Deer) and several other families from Dubai to scope it all out and get a feel. It was a disappointment for those expecting placards and revelations, but most of us were pretty realistic that what we were after was atmosphere. Saturday morning we drove out to Taqa Castle, a small fortress currently under renovation. Significance? non that I know of. But it's an old bedouin outpost, dating back many centuries, and gives us a little insight into the durability of the civilization that has inhabited the area for millennia.









Then it was off to Khor Rouri, a protected archeological site that may never be the same after our visit.





Just down oceanside from the old settlement is a bay that is a possible site for embarkation.



Inland up the river is a dry fall that, in monsoon season, is a stunning waterfall.



The idea is that a boat could be constructed on the riverbed and then, as the water levels rose, could be carried out to sea.

The Dhofar region is green by any standard. It's quite amazing to come down out the desert over the crest of the Dhofar mountains and see all that green. In monsoon season, it's apparently trebly stunning.





Anyway, yes, there are bees, cows (though I suspect these are imported from decades ago, not indigenous--they look Jersey, not indo), and lumber aplenty (though I suspect the "milk and honey" thing is merely a cultural translation of a Hebrew idiom, and not meant to be literal). We were under no illusions, of course, that this was exactly the spot--things change over the centuries and millennia--but it was nifty nonetheless. Our geologist friend who used to live here and visited the area several times says he's doubt-free that that was, indeed, the general place.

Another candidate for the launch is Wadi Sayq, 200 kms or so west along the coast, sandwiched between the Yemeni inland and the Indian Ocean in the narrow strip of Omani territory, in what I think was part of Aden historically. He's been there, too, but isn't as impressed. The FARMS folks, on the other hand, say it's all but certain. A group went on Sunday, but we elected not to because getting there is tricky and uncertain, and we didn't want to put our kids through that.

Anyway, Saturday continued with a trip east to a little town called Mirbat--an old fishing village. We wandered through the narrow dirt roads and met with our first anti-American sentiment: some female students in a bus had already met members of the group, and assumed we were also yanks. Thumbs down (no car bombs).







Got some beach time, wondering why we were the only ones in front of our hotel, and learned it was a "public" (meaning Omani) beach, and that we probably shouldn't be there--had to hike half a k to the Crown Royale hotel beach instead. Then Jamie S went with us into the mountains to visit the mausoleum of Nabi Ayub, otherwise known as Job's tomb. (Nabi means prophet, I believe: Ayub must be Job's Arabic handle.)

This first one is of Job's footprint (apparently) next to the hoofprint of a horse. Look really closely and you'll see both (I suggest double-clicking the pic to magnify).



These three are of the tomb itself: note that whoever is buried here was very, very tall. The footprint is more believable after seeing this. The tomb is close to 12 feet long, if not a little longer. Incense burns all the time, and instead of charging admission, the guide, who has worked there for 15 years, accepts donations to help pay for the upkeep of the mausoleum and maybe to help with groceries.







This last one is the remnant of an old mosque that is attached to the mausoleum just outside the window to the left of the guide in the picture above. The wall on the right faces Jerusalem, and the wall on the left faces Mecca. The implication is that Job was muslim, and prayed in this mosque. It's anachronistic, of course, but since Muslims believe that Mohammed restored true worship, they have no more difficulty "owning" Job than we might see Peter and GBH as part of a contiguous line. Muslims consider Mecca a holy site for several reasons: 1) it is where Adam and Eve reunited after being removed from the Garden, 2) there Adam built a replica of God's home, called the Ka'aba--a structure Abraham rebuilt when he deposited Hagar and Ismael on the Mecca plain, 3) it was near there on Arafat that Abraham was ordered to sacrifice Ishmael (not Isaac--otherwise the story is the same), 4) and of course Mohammed was a Meccan and the sites of his vocation and restoration are all right there.

Anyway, the picture:



A brief but interesting visit--there was a special feeling, which I wouldn't describe as spiritual so much as still. As we left, a group of muslim men arrived and stood very pensively and reverently beside the tomb. The mountains themselves reminded me very much of Italy, actually. Little settlements sort of sandwiched onto hilltops. Peaceful and beautiful.

Drove around Salalah that evening, and had dinner at a Lebanese restaurant called "Obar." Meh. They were out of all the traditional fare, so whatever. Underwhelmed. The other members of the group had better luck at the mom-n-pop places. Live and learn.







Our hotel, by the bye, was a bit of a dump, but cheap. We ended up in spacious if musty rooms in the old villa where the owner and employees lived. They gave us the second floor, and we had beds for everyone, so while we worried about bugs, we couldn't argue with the price, Two nights, two rooms for about $120 cdn. Shower kinda worked even. But it was run by a lovely Indian family and what looked like an assortment of brothers and cousins and friends (oh my!). There's a shot in there somewhere of the proprietor's daughter with Jonah. The beach was pristine: shell fragments, but fine sand and fun little snails that would wash in with the surf and then burrow immediately into the sand to avoid the kestrels and other birds hunting them.











Spent Sunday morning at the beach (the right one this time) doing some boogie boarding and introducing Jonah to ocean waves. Took some video but can't get it off the camera yet. It was a blast for all. Headed back home.

So besides the camels on the road,







the squat-and-leave-it toilets without toilet paper or even functional water hoses (a bucket under a tap was sometimes all there was for washing--so we tried very hard to limit bathroom use), we also shared the trip home with mosquitos--the first we'd really seen since coming here. Where they were coming from is still a mystery, but we guess they hatched in our truck after being tracked in with the sand from the various beaches we visited. I killed upwards of twenty, and everyone else between them killed as many. We let several dozen out the windows, and they still kept showing up. The only to get bitten, however, was Christopher (poor kid) who was asleep in the back seat.

And now I've managed to make it all sound incredibly boring. It's the insomnia. Anyway, some video to leave you on this split Sabbath. (How did you spend your first weekend in December?)

"



In other news, Wendy's now 37. "Old woman, old woman, old woman, says I/Oh whither, o whither, o whither . . .