Sharjah has a lot of mosques...

Last weekend, I was fortunate enough to visit one of the many mosques in downtown Sharjah. Sharjah is the cultural capital of the UAE, largely because of its religious heritage. This heritage is immediately evident in how many mosques there are in town. Right now, there are over 600 mosques and the number is steadily growing. I have heard that there is a connection between Saudi Arabia and Sharjah, largely because of their religious and political conservatism. It is Saudi money that has funded the construction of several of Sharjah’s nicer mosques. Although the mosques that I have seen range from covered outdoor areas with carpeting to towering structures with multiple minarets, the one that I went in was one of the nicer ones downtown.

Every year, one the Muslim teachers at the Early Years school organizes a group of female teachers to visit the mosque and have questions answered about Islam. Although there was not a similar trip for the men, I had permission to go into the mosque with Sayeed (He is Sara’s husband. Sara is Julie’s friend from studying abroad in Kenya who got us the jobs at Wesgreen in the first place!). He walked me through the ablution, the general “etiquette,” and the basic architecture and orientation of the mosque. It had very high ceilings and domes with chandeliers coming down from several points. The walls were light in color with inscriptions from the Qur’an near the tops of the walls. The carpet was red with green and gold patterns separating the rows where the men pray. Being inside such a place immediately invoked the feelings of awe and reverence. As I said earlier, I felt very fortunate to have the opportunity to be inside.

Several minutes after we arrived it was time to break the fast for the day. We were given dates, apples, and water. A few minutes later, the prayer began. I sat in back while the mosque filled up. What was so special about the prayer for me was that men kept running in from all three doors as the prayer was going on. When the prayer formally began the building was only one quarter full. Throughout the next few minutes it became over halfway full. It was just a special image to see so many men running to prayer. I learned later that as long as you make by a certain point in the prayer, it is still considered to be an effective prayer. If you arrive too late, you can put your arm on another man’s shoulder to indicate that he is now your “imam.” Groups formed around people in this fashion after the prayer was finished. After the prayer, we went to a small Yemeni restaurant next to the mosque for iftar. It was a special evening to say the least. Oh, and Julie got an abaya and head scarf.

Also, the two pictures are from my drive to Oman to get my tourist Visa renewed. I especially liked the bottom one; it is a portable mosque at the UAE border post.

Ramadan Kareem

The past month--and most of the time that I have been here--it has been Ramadan. Even though Julie nor I have fasted, it has been a nice time to be in the country and it has been fun to celebrate iftar (the meal that breaks the fast) with friends that have been fasting. Ramadan is the month for Muslims where the Qur’an was revealed to the Prophet. The month is a time when Muslims fast from dawn to dusk in an attitude of prayerfulness, sacrifice, and humility. It is also a time Muslims ask God for forgiveness for past sins, pray for guidance in the future, and practice self-discipline and restraint.

In UAE, it is also a time for celebration, foremost of which is the iftar meal each night. Although the Prophet describes it as a simple meal to sustain your health throughout the month, it is now quite an extravagant affair. The best dates of the year come out (Julie had one that was filled with cream and covered with white chocolate and pistachios), the grocery stores are filled with delicious looking sweets (baklava and other assorted pastries) and good fruit and meat. I just learned last night that quite a few Muslims in the UAE actually gain weight during Ramadan, even though it is a time of fasting. In a country of such extravagance as the UAE, that Ramadan would be practiced in this way. In the malls, the majority of the stores have “Ramadan Kareem” signs (which means generous or bountiful Ramadan) on their windows to advertise Ramadan specials on clothes, electronics, and food. At McDonalds and KFC they have some “Iftar Specials.” The most exciting are the Date Pies at McDonalds. Also, when you buy cell phone minutes “during the holy month of Ramadan,” you receive ten percent more minutes if you spend over 1000 dirhams (nearly $300). So as you can see there are definitely some interesting interpretations of market capitalism.

Ramadan is also a time of sharing. The idea of the ummah--the larger Muslim community--is given increased prominence. At school, there has been a charity drive to collect food and raise money to be sent to less developed Muslim countries so they too could celebrate iftar and Eid ul-Fitr (the three-day celebration at the end of Ramadan). One student anonymously gave 1000 dirhams and my class was quick to donate money as well. On TV, there have been numerous advertisements for the Zakat Fund, a website that helps distribute money to deserving charities and people through the UAE and the rest of the Muslim world. The website is marketed as a modern response to an age-old responsibility.

Ramadan is also a time where not much gets done. The local and national government essentially closes down and no one really expects anything to get done. All the inadequacies and inefficiencies are attributed to Ramadan (read: not getting our Residency and Work Visa’s and spending three+ hours at the Omani border post waiting to renew our tourist visas. I did get to chase some goats around though, so that was fun at least. Oh, and Oman was very arid and pretty). Also, at school, classes are only 35 minutes so it has been extremely difficult to teach much of anything in a short time when kids are fasting (and staying up late when their parents are partying the night before and then waking up early to eat something before sunrise). Also, there have been a couple times when kids have passed out during the morning line-up after playing football for an hour before school in the 45 C heat and then standing in a line for 15 minutes.

A Muslim friend of ours has said that just like there are Easter and Christmas Christians, there are Ramadan Muslims. The night before Ramadan began, the bars and clubs were all full in Dubai. Since no alcohol is supposed to be served during Ramadan both Muslims and non-Muslims were getting ready for the month ofpurity. Which is interesting connection to the "Young and Arab in the Land of Mosques and Bars" article in the New York Times last week.

So Ramadan Kareem everyone. I’ll be blogging more this week before Julie and I (and hopefully some friends if Visa woes get worked out) go to Turkey over our two week holiday.

Chris in a Mall?

After two weeks in the United Arab Emirates, I feel quickly acculturated to this new place where (in sh’allah) I will spend the next two years. Although I didn’t think I was coming to the UAE with many expectations, as when traveling anywhere, I quickly found this was not the case. Here’s a couple of my expectations that I’ve found to be false:

I thought there would be money here but I had no idea how much there would be. There are NO old cars. The malls all feel like they have been built within the last five years at most. Although there are more moderate malls, each mall I go to seems like it is nicer than the last (a couple nights ago I went into an Armani store!). And it seems like malls are where people spend their time (and where I’ve been spending more time than I EVER would have expected). As with money here, unlike in the US where people strive towards the stability of a middle class lifestyle, it seems like here it’s a striving towards a positively upper class lifestyle. Julie and I feel like we’re the only people in the area who picked our cell phone’s by choosing the cheapest one. Also, flying in on Emirates Airlines was wonderful. Julie and I had our own seats in the back of the plane with our own screens with ICE (Information/Communication/Entertainment). The highlight was tons of movies, TV shows, and games. I watches The Office, The Simpsons, played Tetris, and started watching No Country for Old Men. It made the 15 hour flight go by in a flash. It will probablly be the nicest flight I am ever on.

It is hot. On the tarmac in Dubai at 7:00 PM I felt like I was literally hit in the face by the heat. The hottest I know it has been in the last few weeks is around 52 C. Luckily, it has started cooling down. Unfortunately, this has made walking to explore where I am living difficult. The couple of times Julie and I tried walking in the evenings we came back to our apartment dripping with sweat. Also, everything seems hotter because I spend most of my time in air-conditioned spaces (apartment, car, school, mall).

The traffic is worse than I ever could have imagined. There is virtually no public transportation and the country’s infrastructure is not ready for this many people with cars (and by building a two lane bridge now when you know you’re going to need a three lane bridge in five years ensures that there that there will be work in six years…).
As for some expectations that have proved true:

There is a real divide between social classes. Our apartment is about 1 kilometer from Emirates Rd. which is the main road between Sharjah and Dubai. We are living in what Julie has been calling an “industrial desert.” Our apartment is quite nice and is located next to the school. Surrounding us are other apartments that have all been built within the last few years (or are currently being built). What is ironic about all of these apartment buildings is who they are being built for: the laborers that are building Dubai and keeping it going in all of its prodigality. These are the types of apartment buildings that some of you may have read about where men (primarily from India and Pakistan) are squeezed into dorm style housing, working 14 hour days making virtually no money in binding contracts (and without any worker’s rights or political representation). When walking around where we are living, it is obvious that we are the definite minority (and Julie is pretty much the only female). As Julie said, she feels bad about not looking at people or saying hello when we are out walking but there is just no response.
The expectation at school (and elsewhere I’m sure) is that someone should be taking care of moving boxes, cabinets, etc. instead of me taking care of it for myself. So there is a clear division of labour, and it is along defined and seemingly definite ethnic and class lines. And this is just my relationship between this social group. I really have not had much experience with native Emiratis (except with several of my students).

The school is VERY unorganized. Wesgreen International School is broken up into four sections (Early Years at a separate campus around 15 minutes from campus where Julie is teaching), the Primary Section, Girls, and the Boy’s School. I’m teaching Grade Five in the Boys School (the youngest group at that campus and the first year the students are separated by gender). Communication between the main office and each campus is flaky and it seems like there is no real accountability--promises are made and rarely fulfilled. Also, construction of the new wing of the school was supposed to be complete by the start of school and they barely got one of the two new wings in order for the first day (minus whiteboards and lights). So this is one of the many places “The Monkey’s Paw” comes in handy. First of all, what is the monkey’s paw? There is an old episode of the Simpsons where Homer gets, Mojo, a helper monkey to make his life easier. Towards the end of the episode, Homer and Mojo are lying on the couch. Mojo is in his diaper, slouching like Homer with his belly hanging out. Homer says, “Get me a beer Mojo.” Mojo barely raises his hand and with a slight wave he says, “Meh.” So Tommy, my brother, turned the monkey’s paw into a helpful expression. The monkey’s paw is not a disengagement from life, a mere denial of the forces that seem beyond my power to change. It is a recognition of the insignificance of many of the details in my life; an affirmation of the transience of life and my inability to control circumstances that are ultimately out of my control. It is not a flight from action or responsibility. Basically, it is not complaining when you know that there is nothing you can do to change your immediate circumstances. Or, in the words of an African proverb: “Never tell a man that is carrying you that he smells.” Anyways, the monkey’s paw is a helpful posture to adopt in life in general and especially when you are not in a first world country.

Besides the school‘s chaos and politics, I really enjoy the staff. There is an atmosphere that we are all working for the “common good” of the school and passing this idea on to our students so they can live in morally upright lives. Unlike the US, however, there is still a clear sense of what the common good is so it can be used in a completely unapologetic/non-ironic/non-Republican way. If nothing else, this is a nice way to teach (especially fifth graders) since there is a very defined hierarchy and discipline can be harsher than it may be at a public school in the U.S. So I’m working on exercising my authority and being more and more firm with my students each day. Also, the teachers in the school really do try and help each other out and this has made the immediate transition into teaching even easier. Nevertheless, the 25 tem year old boys have still been a handful for the first four days of school.

The other interesting thing about the staff has been the number of South African teachers. Probably close to one third of the teachers are South African (including all but one other teacher among the Grade 5 and 6 teachers). I think I’ve heard more Afrikaans here than when I was in South Africa. They have been fun to work with though.

So that’s some of my general observations from the first few weeks. I’ll be writing more about my day-to-day life soon.