That Hip-Swaying Movement, or Day 57 in Delhi

I must say I enjoyed the tongue-in-cheek, grain-of-salt, crazy, nonsensical India today more than I have since I've been here.

This morning was a rather calm start to the day, getting up at a reasonable hour of 8:30 (at least it seemed reasonable because I was awake anyway) to take an cycle-rickshaw to town to then bus to Amber.

Amber (pronounced "Amer") is a town with an impressive fort system climbing the hills around it. It felt like England should have looked in the medieval times, with walls on every hill top.

The main attraction is Amber Fort, a Mughal creation a couple hundred years ago.

We could've taken an elephant up the path for something like $13 a person, but I decided I was ok with the walk. I mean, how hot could it be at 10am?

Hot. Not excruciating, but we were fighting the sweat all day, and guzzling bottle after bottle of 15-rupee water (since tap water is questionable). I think both Max and I are doing ok on the hydration front, but I think that the heat and drinking affected our appetites today.

My first food of the day was julabi, some honey-covered, marmalade-tasting, funnel-cake-like sweet. It was greasy-sticky, too. Bananas from a seller on the street were a good compliment to that.

But back to the fort. We climbed the hundred or so feet to the entrance, then began our exploring. There were a few signs around in the two major courtyards, but we pretty much got the run of the place, which Max took advantage of.

Being the explorer, last time he came to Jaipur and the Amber Fort, he skipped the fort all together to continue climbing up the mountain and arond a giant ravine to reach the next fort on top of the hill. He tried to convince me, but the fact that the weather was so much hotter now than a month ago pretty much made the decision easy.

As I was walking around today, though, I realised that being a tourist in May while I have the chance is going to be an interesting balance to find a place that isn't deathly hot. Which means that India, sadly, is most likely off the list.

I will say though that despite only having been here a few days, I'll be ready to go back to "civilization." Touring around is tiring, but there are a few creature comforts (such as hot water, toilets, toilet paper, clean tap water, and logical traffic patterns) that I miss.

We finished up our scampering about with going down the chain of water tanks (which we more like rooms in buildings going down the hill), jumping out a window to get where we were going, and seeing the garden. We had just walked past a sleeping guard and through a gate, when a voice called after us and we were forced to talk to the guard and step out of the garden. There were nice paths and everything, but he wasn't going to leave us along. I think that jump out that window might have put us not where we needed to be.

We walked across the dried-up lakebed at the base of the hill (where at least three cricket matches had been happening when we pulled up) and, after getting our daily frozen juice bars (at the hefty price of 10 rupees), took another bus back to the city.

Jaipur is called the Pink City because of the color of the sandstone that is used everywhere. Max also told me that when the British came, the raj decided it would be easier to ally than to fight, so he had the city painted pink, a welcoming color.

Well, we when inside these pink walls, and I split off from Max to visit the City Palace. When Jaipur was the capital of Rahjastan, this (I think) was were the raj held court and did some business. Now it is a tourist venue, with a little gift shop, an audio tour, and two museums inside.

The textile museum had a robe belonging to a very, very hefty prince (2 meters tall, 1.5 meters wide). The arms museum had blades that sliced apart when stabbed into somebody, an then a modified version with pistols, just in case.

My favorite part was the courtyard of the four seasons. Each door was painted to signify either spring, summer, fall, or monsoon.

We hopped over to the giant astronomy park, with all its great instruments (and I'm convinced my dad will see the pictures and try to get one installed in our yard). It was crammed with amazing mathematical objects that measure the sky, such as the giant sundial, accurate within 2 seconds.

Lastly for sightseeing for the day, we stopped at Palace of the Winds. Built by a ruler for all his womenfolk, it was designed so those inside could see what was happening around them without being seen. We explored a bit more, then took a tuktuk to the stadium.

It was time for the Elephant Festival.

We found seats that would some be in the shade, as we listened to the female announcer welcome everyone to the event.

The stadium was segregated into foreigners and Indians. It seems highly offensive to separate the people, but I'm not sure what to think. The event was run by the Department of Tourism so a foriegn focus was probably in the cards.

After a bit of waiting, we began to what the procession of elephants, dancers, elephants, camels, elephants, oxen, and elephants. All were somewhat decorated but the really fancy ones were judged in a beauty pageant of sorts. The announcer began listing off the traits of the elephant, and gracefulness was one. Apparently, the elephant is the symbol of this grace with its distinctive "hip swaying movement.

While the elephants were getting shown off in the middle of the field, people realized they could just duck under the barriers and get up close and personal. Once enough people realized this, a flood ensued, and the officers couldn't do anything about it.

When the judging for the beauty contest started, Max and I headed off to find our second meal of the day. Some street vendors were a block away, but the weirdest thing was a group of about three that were all serving East Asian cuisine. We had the option of steamed dumpings (yes) or some sort of stirfry. Seeing non-Indian food on the street corners was new.

We came back just in time to walk up to the roof and watch a friend of Max's uncle compete with others in a race to get a jar full of colored water from one side to another. The crowd had made a small rectange where there should be a pitch but it was very small.

The next event on the docket was elephant football.

Yes.

The elephants were gathered around a large group of beach balls, the on the signal, they would attempt to do something for someone. That part never was clear.

What was clear was the elephants playing around, chasing each other, and charging, and the crowd being fluid around the "jumbo" (as the announcer said eight times, "jumbos").

Except for one. He knew exactly what to do. Pin down the beach ball with your left foot, and stomp on it with your right until it pops. He ignored everything, and systematically reached as many balls as he could, until he was the last elephant in the middle of the field.

Between that an the hilarious set-up for a tug-o-war match between foreign tourists and locals), we headed back to the htoel, after a ridiculous festival...

Speaking of festival, Happy Holi! I got a taste of it today, but tomorrow... we've stocked up on water balloons and some color, so we might be ready.

Chai by Any Other Name, or Day 56 in Delhi

So remember how yesterday was early at 7:30 or so?

Today was before the crack of dawn at 5:30. We were invited to go on a bike tour with a friend of Max's aunt (who actually went to the flower market with us), and that meant we had to get on the streets of Old Delhi before the craziness starts around 10 or 11.

Jake, a Swedish former reporter, took us around the Old Delhi route. We went through Chowdi Chok, a big marketplace, but all of the storefronts were closed, so it was very eerie. The families that lived around there were out, brushing there teeth and saying "Good morning" to the group of 8 white people riding by.

We soon passed the Red Fort, where I was the other day, and with the sun rising through the fog, it was very impressive (though it is more impressive from the outside than inside).

We continued our path down to the river (the Yamuna, one of the tributaries of the Ganges). Again, the sun, the seagulls getting fed, the couple people up and about and washing in it... picturesque, but if you see the state of the river, it is disgusting as well.

There is this film on top of the river, made of oil and grease and who knows what else. Tiny bubbles of what we guessed was methane come up to the surface and stay intact as they float ever so slowly downriver. The banks had multi-colored trash lapping with the pulse of the water. It was sad how far it had fallen from the clean water of a natural river.

Nearby we stopped for some chai, which is India's tea. It is surprisingly that same as the carac that I'm obsessed with at bandar back in Doha! And, though I've heard Moroccan tea when I was in Istanbul, I have no idea if that is the same or not. Regardless, I'm overjoyed to find my warm beverage of choice is available (and on the train too)! The only problem will be finding a time when I want a hot beverage.

We were starting to hit the busy times by the time we stopped for breakfast. We had a traditional breakfast meal of roti (like naan, so flat bread) and some goat something and some bean something. I'm going to have to start writing down these names so I can come back and look up recipes to cook all this deliciousness!

The last leg back to the bike shop was crazy. We were doing the typical Delhi driving: one hand on the bell, one hand out to move past people, and at least one prayer being muttered under your breath.

However, we all made it back, and Max and I dismounted to go see some German friends he met a few weeks ago along the coast. A tuktuk ride later, and we were at Red Fort and an entrance to Chowdi Chok.

Max's aunt has forged a good relationship with a jeweler down in this area, so we went by to see him. I bought some more rings (which were probably actually worth the price I paid, as opposed to that last ones).

Down the street was a Hindu temple (or possible Jain?) which we visited next. It was shoes and anything leather off, as well as washing our hands to respect the temple. The "guide" told us it was built in the 10th century (repeatedly), though the restorations are continuing, so who knows what is original. Along the walls were stories of two of their gurus, and upstairs was a rancorous music box with clanging cymbals and beating drums that we had him turn on.

One of my favorite things to see was the people praying who used rice or rice powder to draw shapes and offer food on the table in front of a shrine. The designs were intricate, and yet were transient.

As we were leaving the temple, one of the German guys got a water balloon that burst right on his head. A group of giggling children were lurking in the balcony above us, and "Happy Holi" was called after. Max got one when we crossed through the alley again to get pictures.

After stop to get some chapati (I think is what is it called... vegetables stuffed into some dough and fried flat like roti), Max and I then took the Delhi metro (much better than you'd expect) to a station to meet Arjay (the other driver) and go to a train station. We arrived at the New Delhi station, and waited through a huge line, to discover that the train left in an hour from the Old Delhi station.

Arjay drove us to that one next, we were started waiting in line. And waiting. And waiting.

Remember a few days ago when I talked about how at the embassy I just went up to the window and got served? After about 20 minutes of waiting (and 10 minutes until our train was due to leave), I did what I saw another woman do... walk to to the front of the line and just shove my money in the ticket window.

Max told me that the men in the line next to ours were very interested to see if it would work, and every time I turned around they kept encouraging me to just stick my hand in.

We managed to get the tickets (yay female privilege), then booked it to the platforms. We got there, asked a random fruit seller which platform to get on, than ran to that one. A station attendant then confirmed that it was the right train and not a minute too soon, we were aboard and headed for Jaipur.

The rest of the trip was fairly unexciting. We got on the train, sat in the sleeper class despite our cheap tickets, tried some potato something or another from a man selling it, was pretty hot and sweaty most of the way, took a nap in the upper bunks, then, when we finally got to Jaipur 5.5 hours later, helped some Czech girls find a hotel with us.

Dinner was a cycle rickshaw away at a nicer restaurant (because they were the only ones open) to have some thali. Thali is usually all-you-can-eat sauces dumped onto a huge pile of rice, where it turns into a free-for-all. This plate we just shared, and a banana lassi (yogurt drink) was a good end to another long day. But tomorrow is the Amber Fort, the Elephant Festival, and who knows what else (but I'm suspecting some more Holi fun will be creeping in as Monday gets closer).

Just Not Friendly, or Day 55 in Delhi

It was an early start this morning (though tomorrow is going to be disgustingly early). We got out the door at 9 to drop the younger two kids off at school so McKenna, Max, Surrendar, and I could go play at the orphanage in the morning.

On the way, I wanted to stop by the India Gate. It was a bit foggy, which only made it all the more impressive when the structure celebrating all the Indian soldiers loomed.

We got to the toddler room right before snacktime, and a few of the braver kids came over to sit on our laps. McKenna (the older daughter of the family I'm staying with) turned into a human jungle gym, with a kid on each leg, each arm, and playing with her hair. Surrendar (the driver) was enjoying sticking the kids in the little cubby holes of the shelves and taking pictures of them as they stared wide-eyed with cute little smiles.

"My" kid was a little boy with a deformity in one hand, a very bumble-y way of talking, and a cute little smile. While they were eating their potato chips, he sat in my lap and painstakingly picked each one up, ate it slowly in three or four bites, then moved on to the next. Far after the other kids had been playing and having seconds, he took the last chip and tried to give it to me. When I put it back in his bowl, he stuck it under my watch instead.

The next piece of our itinerary was the Red Fort. Actually built by one of the Mughals as a place to hear his people. The grand entrance leads to his throne room, then back behind is his palace, his wife's palace, and their servants' palace.

The grounds didn't have as many random buildings as the Qutb Minar yesterday, but it was a nice little walk around. Max tempted one of the "squirrel-munks," these rodents that look like a cross between a squirrel and a chipmunk.

We then got dropped off at Pahar Ghanj, or Main Bazaar, a market right by a train station. It had a bunch of hostels and hotels, and also a bunch of hippies. There were more dreadlocks per (white) capita than I've ever seen.

But the market was very lively and very reasonably priced. There, I found my bag (as well as some others... Valerie, if you are reading this, you'll have a nice selection to pick from for your birthday). At one point, I was on the street alone, and a hawker kept trying to get me to come into his shop. After my refusals, he accused me of being unfriendly. Sorry, sir, but people like you are making me cynical.

We popped over to get some Indian food for lunch (some paneer tikka, some butter chicken, and some other vegetarian thing with naan). We've all been eating our fill with our hands and drinking bottled water (not tap).

Max and I went over to Lodhi Gardens for an after-lunch stroll. Not only is it a huge park, but, like the rest of Delhi (and India in general), there are ruins everywhere. We looked at a few, then sat on the lawn in front of some grandiose tomb.

While we were sitting there, a group asked for pictures with Max. Then, we look over and there are two street girls running towards us, racing to make name bracelets for us. We said no repeatedly, then one grabs my hand and starts trying to put henna on me. I seriously had to fight her off to get my hand back. Sadly, it was probably the most disturbing show of how poverty has affected people around here that I've seen.

I haven't really mentioned the poverty factor much. Daily, we see a lot of Indians in beautiful saris and suits, some with briefcases, some with shops or other good work. But there are also a handful of desperate men, women, and children each day that come around with hands extended, feet bare, and often a smaller child in their arms. I think the fact that I've said no to just about everybody around here has made it easier to deal, but their desperation is undeniable.

We walked to get some 5 rupee juice bars, then asked a few tuktuk drivers to take us to the Old Fort. The only one who knew what we meant wanted 100 rupees for the ride. We talked him down, slowly, to 50 rupees, and then weren't even sure if he know where we were going.

But we made it. Our plan was to see the Craft Museum close by, but we got caught up in climbing the walls of the fort. The police watched us crawl in and out of a few blocked off spaces, but never said a word. There were even some tunnels that Max dared to explore, but I stayed above ground and looked at the mosque that was also on the grounds.

We spent so much time poking around that we never made it to the Craft Museum. The reason we were poking around was because we thought there was another exit to the fort closer to where the museum was. Sadly this fort was designed to be very safe... we ended up the same place we started.

As we were waiting to get picked up, I saw my first elephant in Indian, just meandering down the crazy busy road. We passed it a while later with a branch in its trunk it had just torn off a tree. I also saw goats, some oxen, a buffalo, and monkeys (though from far away) today.

That's India for you.

The family I'm staying with had invited some missionaries over for a Mexican-themed dinner, so some interesting conversations and we were left to figure out plans for tomorrow. "Plans." We'll see what actually happens!

But I'm assuming one thing that will happen is that these posts are going to get much more consise. I'm not sure I'll have an hour or two in the evenings to work on them on a computer I don't have to share. No worries, you'll still get the good stuff if I can find internet. But otherwise, I'll be fine! Jaipur tomorrow!

"Why didn't you fly Qatar Airways?", or Day 54 in Delhi

I made it!

Last night, got to the airport a wee bit late and skipped some lines thanks to the quick thinking of Abdalla. So I got to the gate right on time.

As I checked in with the flight attendant, he asked to see my passport, my visa, and asked me a few questions. I was realizing at this point that the entire line (and entire waiting area) was full of Indian men. With that in mind, he pointed question of "Why didn't you fly Qatar Airways?" didn't seem quite so crude. (I am flying with Jet Airways, a lower budget company out of India.)

The red-eye not only was an awkward four hours long, but it served a meal (that I did not partake in) at midnight!

Again, though, the female priority allowed me to get to the bathroom without waiting for half a dozen guys in the aisle way.

And then, after the few hours of sleep, I landed in Delhi! It smelled different, looked different, and sounded different, but it is amazing how similar all cities feel.

Max met me after customs, and their driver picked us up and brought us back to the giant villa that is his aunt and uncle's house.

Not only do I get a spare bedroom for my stay here, Max and I also can use their drivers to get us around!

So a few more hours of sleep under my belt, and Max, his aunt, two of his aunt's friends, and I all went to the flower market.

It was just a dozen stalls long, and many of them were on their way to getting packed up, but we got to see different people stringing together the flower leis.

The tactics that I learned while in Istanbul are serving me well. Smile at the hawkers, if you want, but ignoring them is not rude, it's just necessary.

We got dropped off next at Qutb Minar. This vast complex was more than just the minaret of an old Mughal mosque. It was an entire acreage of buildings and random monuments, such as a sundial and a pillar.

All of the buildings were of this sandstone that I think is native to Delhi. There was also some white marble inlaid in the Minar. The stonework was amazing, and amazingly not eroded at all. I was impressed with how kept up the intricate work was, though the same can't be said for the entire complex. A many of the monuments had names scratched into the walls or the trees on the grounds. Owning a piece of history like that is clearly something to be desired.

The Qutb is also a place for school groups. I was approached by a few different groups of kids, asking in their limited English, "How are you?" and "Where are you from?" We shook hands, and I got pictures with a few of them.

We then got driven to Humayun's Tomb, via the Parliament building and the President's palace. Large, impressive buildings, but no monkeys by them today.

Humayun's Tomb is another of the Mughal leave-behinds, meaning that it Islamic-based and build in the 1500s. We spent another hour roaming those grounds, looking at more of the sandstone architecture and people picnicking and napping. The Tomb was built by his widow, and is one of the precursors to the Taj Mahal. Very grandiose, and yet, still going to be dwarfed by other tombs later in this trip.

The final destination of the day was Connaught Place, an underground (and rather stuffy) market with a park on top. We wandered through the Tibetian Market, where I spent my first rupees shopping, on jewelry. I also bargained for some bags, but we couldn't agree on a price. Better luck next time.

We crossed the crazy roundabout (going clockwise, of course) and got some mango popsicles for the dandy price of 5 rupees each (about 13 cents). We were going to people-watch, but the people weren't satistified to let us watch them, so we were approached by two ear-cleaners and a shoe shiner. After playing around with them, we ignored them enough for them to move along.

We went back to base camp, where I met the three kids and husband. Some pasta for dinner, some playing in the spacious yard, and a good old Bollywood movie (Lagaan) finished up my first official day in Delhi.

It's crazy... I'm in India!

Last Minutes, or Day 53 in Doha

Since I'm taking a red-eye to Delhi, I figured I'd post quickly before I get my ride to the airport from Abdalla. Man, that boy is so useful...

Today was my Networks mid-term, as well as finishing up paperwork, turning in an essay, designing some code, and stressing about everything that is going to catch up with me when I get back.

But sometimes that is why I travel: to get out of the daily mindset of things to do and errands to run. Instead I worry about how to have fun!

In the midst of all this, I dropped by the Activities Board's Movie Madness, got some Johnny Rocket's "bacon" cheddar burger (though it tasted like bacon to me), and watched the first fifteen minutes of "Serendipity." The free food attracted many of my other CS friends, most of whom had just taken the Networks midterm with me as well.

I'm going to double-check my packing, try to find a scale, then off to airport I go! See you on the sub-continent side...

More Girl Talk, or Day 52 in Doha

I finally got my Indian visa today... which means tomorrow night I have nothing stopping me from getting on the flight to Delhi.

But if I thought being a woman was good yesterday (and this morning), when I got to jump a ten-person queue and stay in a special waiting room, this afternoon amazed me. I walked in about ten minutes before I could pick up my passport and visa, and the line I was supposed to be in was nearly our the door--easily fifty people long. I asked the guy in the official-looking uniform where I needed to go, and he said to sit then pointed directly at the window. Seriously? I could waltz up to the window, when there were a bunch of men waiting, and just pick up my visa before them?

Yes, is the answer. I walked over, slightly hesitantly, and one of the men in line motioned me forward to take my place at the window next. They gave me my passport and visa, and I booked it out of there (once I checked out my visa, of course).

For a girl who praises gender equality, I had my hesitations about using my gender so blatantly to speed up my life in detriment to a group of men. Was is hypocritical to use that advantage when I don't support men using their gender-given advantages? I'm not a woman who is "scared" of public spaces and must get out of them as soon as possible; I'm not of the religious bend that thinks that men and women should be separated as much as possible. So my reasons for using the female "queue" were simply because I could and it would save me time.

You can tell that I'm struggling, probably a bit more with this than necessary, but I feel that it is something that is going to come up again and again. And how hard do I want to fight the cultural to advance my ideals?

Speaking of women and culture, my Islamic Feminism class started late today, so I gathered with the other girls by the couches outside before going in when the professor showed up. While we were out there, there were a variety of conversations going on, and when I looked over at Noef (one of the girls in the class who is wonderfully sensitive about me not knowing Arabic), she said that the others were talking about pregnancy.

Ok, that's all well and good. It was only when another girl asked about one of the girls' pregnancy that I became a bit shocked. Pregnant? Apparently, married and five months along.

I took that ok; you know, she's young, but it's the culture, and so forth. It is only when the other married girl in the class started talking about her newly-discovered pregnancy when the culture shock set in for real. Two married and pregnant women in my class. In university. In the states... never.

Tomorrow is going to be an odd day. I'm taking a (short, 3-hour) red-eye flight to Delhi at night, so I'll post before I leave, then probably once I have a clear head and some internet once I'm there. I don't think I'll be taking my laptop, since internet cafes have their own computers to use rather cheaply.

I am going with a friend named Max, who blogs as well, so our adventures should be well-documented. Wish me luck (and keep me in your prayers)!

Female Privilege, or Day 51 in Doha

I have complained before about being a girl. But ladies often have their privileges, especially when it comes to lines in government offices.

I went to the Indian Embassy this morning, to try to get a visa for Spring Break. Once there, I could get in the 1-woman line, instead of the 7-men line. There was even a cute little "Ladies Waiting Room" with three different shelves of books in script (with a few in English).

However, being a lady didn't help me get a visa, since I was missing proof of place I'm staying. So tomorrow, bright and early, we try again.

Tonight was also a bit of a break from the grindstone, as I went out for pizza and ice cream (though not 1-riyal ice cream!) with Abdalla. I thought that pizza was the most universal food ever, but then he starts dumping (Omani) ketchup on it! The tomato-on-tomato action was very weird, with the saltiness adding some "complexity" to the typical taste of pizza, but it was also something that I only put on one piece.

The pepperoni here is not made of pork (since pork is illegal in this country due to Islam) but tastes deliciously the same... just like Coldstone.

Final note: I updated my YouTube channel with a few brief videos of Dubai. Jessica updated hers as well, especially with a video of me coming down the bobsled track at SkiDubai. I'm in one other of her videos, for just a second, but I'm not going to link that one...

Juggling, or Day 50 in Dubai and Doha

I was walking around today with a mental list chock to the brim of this paperwork, that meeting, this programming assignment, that person to talk to.

In the midst of all this, I sadly let more than a few balls drop today. I accidentally missed the recitation I was supposed to led, I didn't get research done for a group project, and I squeaked in some readings for a class somehow between other classes.

I guess that's what a weekend in Dubai will do.

Overall, I'm not delighted with my overall Dubai experience, but that is mostly my fault. I like to have plans and back-up plans and a segment of everyday for everything. So when this weekend we went in with school work piling up, there wasn't much time for planning.

It also taught me the value of a good guidebook. Ours were 3 to 4 years old, so missing such monumental elements at the Burj Khalifa. Also, neither had deep background on any of the sites (or sights) we went to; my Rick Steves guides often have self-guided tours.

Now, Dubai in general is much larger than I thought. It stretches up and down the coast, and much of the glitzy stuff was along these many sea lines. Because the Metro was slightly inland, we stayed by the malls and the skyscrapes when we took it. Our hotel was in a very good location that we could've taken greater advantage of, if we weren't so dead tired at night. Budgeting time for a nap (especially when we didn't have anything to do anyways) probably would've been more effective, so the carnival happening two streets away would've been more attractive at 9pm.

Another thing to mention is our path; we were often bouncing between the far ends of Dubai without good regard for a daily plan. I think we missed out on some other sites along the Creek because we were walking so much that we just wanted to relax at a place (like we did at the Bastakiya district, in the picture).

In a bit of a "duh" statement, Dubai was really nice because it was so much bigger than Doha. There were a good variety of people in all the places we went... the most diverse place in the world, so brochures claim. Around the souks at night, we saw a lot of Indians, which just made me more excited for my spring break India trip. Around "The Walk at Jumeira Beach Resort", there were a large variety of khadeeji people (from the other Gulf states), Europeans, and Asians.

Looking back on it, there were quite a few really good experiences nestled among the sunburn and blisters (on the feet, not the burn, thankfully). The Bastakiya district, the fountain at the base of the Burj Khalifa, the Heritage Village at the Walk, bargaining for my (not very comfortable) shoes at the souk, all of these were more pleasant if plucked out of their original context.

It was travel, which is enriching and enlightening at the best of times, and tiring and harassing at the worst of times, but in the end, it is another experience through which my lens is tinted. Jessica, as well, has a few experiences that she really treasured and a few that missed the mark a bit.

Lastly, did I mention they have 1 dirham ice cream cones at McDonald's?

Walk the Catwalk, or Day 49 in Dubai

This morning was a relaxing one. I filled myself up with a poached egg sandwich late in the morning, and we were off to the Dubai Museum.

My guide book praised the museum as being one that focuses on “interpretive displays.” As I was walking around the museum, I kept bumping into and apologizing to all the manikins—the displays were very interpretive. I learned a little about everything; Dubai history stretches back much longer than Doha’s, with people here over 7000 years ago. They have been digging up artifacts from the Bronze Age, including burials and village sites.

One of my favorite facts, though, was about the five daily prayers that Muslims do. I knew that three were at dawn, noon, and sunset, but I didn’t realize that the other two were at last dusk and when an objects shadow is as long as the object is tall (roughly 15:00). Jessica has been guessing the time whenever we can hear the call to prayer, and she’s pretty accurate.

When we were walking to the museum in the late morning, we were getting pretty warm, so I made sure to look thoroughly through the collection in the air-conditioned building.

Right by the Museum was the Bastakia Quarter. This renovated district is now full of little artisan shops and guesthouses. The crisp walls, slight breeze, and greenery were a lovely place for an afternoon bite and drink. We wandered through the area, stopping in on an Iranian dealer and a art gallery before going back to the main road.

We had a few hours to kill before our evening plans at Dubai Mall, so we decided to see if we could figure out where the Dubai Fringe Festival was taking place. We managed to confuse a concierge, so we decided just going to the Mall (which was right by Burj Dubai) to hang out for a bit wouldn’t hurt. Thankfully, the concierge did know where the nearest Metro stop was.

We got to the Mall and the Burj and, after some typical tourist picture-taking, walked into the pretty mall I’ve seen in a while. Of course, we walked in on Fashion Avenue; all the big players had their spot, from Armani to D&G. We looked around a bit, then wandered to find ice cream. After a long, hot day, where we had discovered the grand hotel we wanted to see cost over $50 to go inside, so we stuck around the Mall and spent $10 on Coldstone.

We knew that a few fashion shows were scheduled for the evening, so we wandered to the Fashion Catwalk and got a seat to watch the up-and-coming “Haute Pink Couture,” a line done by two Emirati designers. There was a mix of local and Far Eastern influences, with a lot of zany imagination in there too.

I had heard about these “dancing fountains” from a friend and saw the Souk Al Bahar in the brochure, but I didn’t put two and two together until we were outside, the sun was setting, a bunch of people were around, and music started playing. I got a few pictures before the battery died in my camera as well, but the spouts of water were very reminiscent of the sword dancing we saw yesterday at Heritage Village as well as the dancing during Qatari Day.

We went back inside to see another fashion show (this one focused much more on abayas and a few fancy dresses) then we popped back to the souk to find some dinner.

It was pricey by our standards, but we found a pizzeria with some soup for Jessica and some pizza break for me. We also got to see the fountain go off twice more before we went inside for our last fashion show.

I’ve just realized this post is very “and-then-we-did-this-and-then-we-did-this.” I want to get this all down before I hit the sack tonight (since we have an early flight in the morning) and I’ll do some digesting in the next day or two.

So, to finish up my daily details, we went to a final fashion show, then took the Metro back home. We didn’t realize it the first night we were here, but just a few blocks away from us is Al Rigga, one of the locations of the carnivals for the Dubai Shopping Festival. We walked through it on the way here, and we were dazzled by more bright lights, in addition to some sort of Far Eastern dancing, some clowns on stilts, and some booths of crafts, bad DVDs, and carnival food.

Now, we are attempting to turn in for an early night, but getting distracted by the television. Our flight is early so we can still make classes, which means a lovely 04:30 wake-up call. It’ll be good to be back in Doha.

Sand, Sunburn, and Snow, or Day 48 in Dubai

As the title implies, today was quite a diverse day, starting with our hotel's shuttle to Jumeira Beach Park at 9:15 this morning.

We ate breakfast at our hotel, Sadaf, then into the 16-passenger van (or something close to it). We paid 5 dirhams ($1.35) to get into the beach, but amenities were definitely not the sandy, wet, and gross standard at public beaches in the US, so the money was being put to good use.

Now, the second part of my title... sunburn. I'll rationalize it by saying that Jessica had a limited amount of sunscreen, and I didn't want to borrow too much from Jessica, who is a bit more susceptible to sunburn than I am. So my back and shoulders and face were covered. And now, pretty much everything else is a bit red. I’m slightly mad at myself, but that just makes the dichotomies of Dubai all the better.

We weren’t theoretically allowed to take pictures (according to the single sign I stopped to read), however, the beach was filled with tourists from the East, West, and in between, who all had to have their cameras out. So I avoided taking pictures of people and grabbed some shots of the turquoise water, the fine sand, and the palm trees between us and Burj Khalifa (the tallest building in the world, which is on our list for tomorrow).

I took a dip or two into the Arabian Sea; it was colder than I expected but refreshing after lying around in the upper-80s to lower-90s Fahrenheit weather (that’s about the low 30s for you Celsius people). Also scuttling around were these zebra fish, their stripes blending in with the striations in the sand. Jessica was convinced they were robot fish, put in the water by the Dubai government, so as not to alarm tourists with their advanced sampling equipment to warn of a possible salination attack by Qatar. All this we derived from the fact that they were apparently “following” her while she was wading.

We were planning on taking the afternoon shuttle to the Mall of the Emirates, but one thing led to another led to a delicious lunch at an Indian place (chili and palau chicken with naan… yum) led to us missing the shuttle and just taking the Metro instead.

I definitely miss public transportation in Doha. There is a single bus loop that I’ve been warned away from taking. Here, on the other hand, they are building a system that goes up and down the sprawling coast, and, while not completely open, it has already proved its usefulness to us.

The big draw at Mall of the Emirates is SkiDubai, an indoor ski slope and snow play area. For just $25, you too could have a day of fun in a few inches of powder! I mean, unless you can go outside and play in it for free.

I’m glad Jessica came along and convinced me to go in. It was really just spending money on an opposite experience to this morning’s sunshine and sea. So my sunburn was getting chafed by a snow jacket, and my gloves were in the same bag my swimsuit occupied this morning. What opposites…

Next on the list was heading to “The Walk at Jumeira Beach Resort,” a section along the sea with lots of glitz and glam.

Now, on the map, we only had about a mile walk to get to the Resort from a Metro stop. Getting off the Metro stop, there were these large power lines blocking the way to the sea, so, like a trooper, Jessica humored me as we started walking through a deserted area, which led to a maze of streets which never turned quite the right direction.

A long walk later, we finally arrived at “The Walk.” From our vantage, we could see a carnival and a row of well-lit road with restaurants and a diverse crowd. But our feet were complaining, so we each got a tall glass of frozen mint lemonade.

This is probably the third time I’ve had a mint drink over here, and each time I regret it a little bit. I like mint, but with chocolate, please. It is always good, but never quite what I want.

After enough of a lounge to give us energy to begin again, we wander and find the “Heritage Village.” The loud Arabic music tipped us off.

Inside the walls were different tents set-up with a tour company, a camel burger place, and miscellaneous traders. I quickly found the traditional food-makers, and began to wait for a khameer. And wait while two little Arab boys push in front of me. And wait while a mother in an abaya orders ahead of me too. And finally, after forcing my money on the maker, she made me the large dough bun covered in soft cheese.

It was cooked by being stuck to a pan, then the pan was flipped over some coals, then, when sufficiently risen, removed and covered in a cream-cheese-like sauce. Delicious, and worth it, I just wish there had been a little less racial bias on the cook’s part.


The rest of the evening (or night) was spent wandering the well-populated streets and watching the carnival. We decided against trying to get back to the Metro (and it was closed at that point, too), so took a long, slightly pricey cab ride back to the hotel.

I think we made a dent in our Dubai to-do list, which is good since tomorrow is our last day here!

Abra like Cadabra, or Day 47 from Doha to Dubai

Well, I'm sorry to report that without wireless internet, these blogs are going to be picture-less until future notice. This desktop at the hotel doesn't have an SD card slot. Don't worry, I'll give you such complex visual imagery, you won't even notice.

We can start with this morning. It was the wee hours of 4am, and I got up to pack before Abdalla came at 5:30 to drive Jessica and I to the airport. Tiptoeing around my room while my roommate was sleeping wasn't the easiest way to pack. I haven't forgotten anything crucial, though that camera adapter might have been nice, to get some pictures on here.

Well, guess "crucial" is subjective. When we were in the car, we realized the neither of us had printed out our hotel confirmation or its location, and we didn't remember its name. Both of us felt like it started with an "s" and was about 6 letters and was by the Union Station Metro.

If you could gather from the blog post yesterday and my early wake-up today, I didn't get much sleep last night. So once we got to the airport, I napped in the all-flights waiting area, I napped in the flydubai (our airline) waiting area, Jessica warned me not to nap standing up on the bus to the airplane, but then I napped right up until we were within sight of Dubai.

Then, I could see the sea become land, and the impressive Burj Khalifa came into view (which is still under maintenance, so we won't be able to go up it). Picture a slightly foggy skyline, with a few boat wakes visible right before the extensive set of breakers that protect the harbors of Dubai.

We had heard the visas were available upon arrival, we went to the "visa" desk, who told us to go to the "passport control" room, who told us to go straight through the "passport control" desks. We got quizzed a bit on where we were staying (which was a bit of a problem, since we couldn't remember the name) but stamped and let through. I thought we would've had to pay at least a little, but nope. I'm sure we'll spend enough here to make up for it.

We were hoping our puzzle of information would enable us to find the hotel without looking online, but our hopes were dashed when there was no information desk at our terminal.
Sadly, this information didn't get us as far as we wanted. We took a taxi to the Union Station Metro, found a map that showed where some hotels were, guessed at one, and started walking.

We were distracted by food. We popped into a cafeteria with breaded everything and had chicken sandwiches for lunch. As we were walking out, Jessica mentioned that we were the only women, only Caucasians, and only young people in the store; to be honest, none of that triggered for me. Maybe it was my tiredness still rearing its head.

So we attempted to find wireless, got pointed to a Starbucks, and turned on my computer. Half an hour of frustrating attempts to get my credit card to go through, I gave up and called Daedri (internationally, so a bit expensive), who found the e-mail and got us in the right direction... finally.

We got back to the hotel, and after a bit of brainstorming, we decided it was too hot to do anything, so I feel asleep. When I woke up, we made some plans... then I fell asleep again. By the third section of my nap, our plans had changed again.

The iterations were something like, go to the souks or go to the beach. When we realized there was a shuttle that took us to the beach from the hotel tomorrow, we started walking to "the creek."

Dubai Creek is this weird water feature that Jessica and I were debating on the naturalness of it. It looks like an inlet, is treated like a river, and is just superb to walk along. We attempted to find the souqs on the south side of the creek, but instead puttered around until sunset, when we hopped aboard an abra (water taxi) to see the Burj Dubai side.

We had a bit more success finding the souqs there; the textile souq was the closest. We went into a shop with bulk hair accessories, and one of the workers started chatting me up. His English was good, but his pace and accent made it hard for me to understand whether his children were studying in Canada, or wanted to study in Canada, or just liked Canada. He, like most people, recognized the power of money and talked about how it affected his life. I didn't want to leave without buying anything, but I think I ended up purchasing some of the samples on accident because I didn't need 30 little hair clips.

After the textile souq, we wandered past the Dubai Museum (which we will probably find our way back to it in the next two days) and the Birkani quarter (same, since it was all closed).

Jessica had been craving sugar all day, so she found a Baskin-Robbins to grab a chocolate cone. I wanted something a little more exotic, so a block later, I saw a bakery and we peeked in. I started pointing at the different Indian sweets, and the shopkeeper just had us take a seat and made us up a plate of a variety of different kinds. There was a gulab jamun, another two or three that were also honey-soaked deliciousness, and two that were some sort of flaky half-pastry-half-fudge consistency. All of them were sugary and all of them were delicious.

After sitting there for quite a while to let our stomaches settle, we decided to head back across the creek to see if we could find the souqs we passed up in the afternoon. The first was the spice souq, with brightly colored stalls. Then, the gold souq (where my favorite line by a storekeeper trying to get us to come in was "I have silver"). Then, the "covered" souq, which, if we were even in the right place, was a cross between a mall and a market. The result of all this was two pairs of shoes for me. I was very proud of my bargaining, but the worker did his job too. I have a bit of buyer's remorse, even though both pairs are lovely!

It was a full day, and a slightly frustrating one (especially when the walk home keep being blocked by construction work), but now I have figured out how to add pictures to the blog, since Jessica has the cable for her camera that works on these computers. This is one I stole from her, but a promise of more later this weekend (or when I get back to Doha).

Can I Have An Extension, or Day 46 in Doha

Today dawned a funny yellow-ish cloud cover, probably left over from the fog last night. My day was very productive, bouncing from class to class, grading papers and coding. I guess that's why it hasn't sunk in that I'm leaving for Dubai in just a few hours.

I think it is also the fact that Dubai doesn't really seem like another country. The UAE is, but I'm thinking that I'll enjoy being a tourist again for a bit. I've lost that sense of wonder (and freedom and time-less-ness) around here. However, the days are still spinning by so fast!

People keep teasing me that I'm starting Spring Break a week early (since it begins on the 26th for me). But speaking of Spring Break, I'll have lots of adventures to tell you from the distant, wild country of India!

While I was working (and wandering around) at uni today (yes, I'm using that word "uni"), I saw a whole production set up on the majlis. While I didn't get to stick around for more than a few minutes of the talk (and a few bites of the food), the speaker, Patrick Awuah. I'm not going to be able to do him justice, but the little that I caught was him talking about how the roots of problems come from apathetic leadership. His goal, then, was to groom young people into leaders that would make a difference. I'm sure Shaza and Maria and Fatima could tell you (since they are all lined up and attentive in the picture).

I tried to get ahead on my work for next week, since I'm leaving at 05:30 tomorrow and getting back at 07:30 on Sunday (just in time for classes). That leaves not very much time that I want to be doing work during the weekend. And I have I mentioned it still hasn't sunk in yet?

After a productive evening (so good to be saying that!) Abdalla and I splurged on TWO riyal DIPPED ice cream cones. Big spenders, I know, but I'm not going to be around in this currency for a full weekend... Instead I'll be using UAE dirhams. And, according to Google, 1 Qatar riyal is 1.00942492 UAE dirhams. So a one-dirham ice cream cone? Forget about it.

While I was around in my building, Daedri came up to say hi (and have a snack). I walked in on her this evening getting her hair extensions, so seeing the final product was pretty cool. And, a little bit more culture in my life, since I've never seen anyone get extensions put it. Six hours to get them braided in? That's a lot of patience! Daedri looks much different... but we're already enjoying playing with them.

I'm off to Dubai shortly! I'll have some internet, so still be posting (Insha'Allah) but it is traveling, so I can never guarantee anything!

What the Fog, or Day 45 in Doha

I thought today was going to be boring, and that I might have to talk to you about this elusive school that is somehow still taking up my life.

Instead, I went out for dinner with my typical CMU CS group (we had a freshman, a sophmore, a junior, and two seniors... how diverse!) and had some classy Indian dhosas.

We managed to tear Kaleem away from his Networks homework (which he is probably cursing us for now) and drove to Bharath. It was a pretty classy restaurant: very clean, wooden tables, waiters wearing uniforms, and all the chairs matched. I ordered a onion rava masala dhosa, while the others got masala or masala rava dhosas. Mine (on the right) looked a little less classy than theirs (on the left), but I liked it more.

I'm still enjoying the prices of food around here. A dhosa, which was pretty filling, some of those old gulab jamun dessert balls, and some water (yes, you have to pay for water) came out to 13 riyals. That's less than $4. Eating out every night and not breaking the bank? No wonder people don't cook around here.

So, while we were at the table, one of the guys saw his neighbors at another table, and he began stooping down in his chair, covering his face. That started the conversations about how small the world is... and how word gets around. Swapnil was talking about how a family friend had seen him at a mall, and his mother knew less than 24 hours later; Tessa went on to talk about how her grandmother had managed to get her Facebook profile picture, which had a guy friend in it, and demanded to know his name when she went back home to Brunei.

On our way home, we ran into some fog... Swapnil was driving, with Tessa in the front seat, but I got a bit of video. People around here put their flashers on in the fog, for some reason.



After I got back to EC, I took some of those artistic-type photos... the lights and the palm trees just looked so cool! And this was the only picture Kaleem would let me take of him. He looks like a ghost.




It's like Swapnil and Tessa are walking away into the sunset... if by sunset, you mean fog nearly hiding the CMU-Q building.