14 November 2008

After a busy couple of weeks of preparing for progress reports at school, Julie and I had a wonderful day in Dubai in celebration of her 24th birthday. The day began with Little League Football (soccer). I’ve been coaching Arsenal, one of the Grade One and Two football teams at Wesgreen. While a couple of my players are very good, most of them have never played before so its been a fun but challenging introduction to the game. We had our second game yesterday after a coaches-parents game. I was hoping that the few local men that played would wear their candoras (the traditional white robe that Emirati men wear) but unfortunately they did not. It is nice to see the school offering an activity that allows parents to support their children in a fun extracurricular activity. Normally, these types of events do not take place here so it is nice time for the parents, kids, and coaches to take part in it.

After the game, Julie and I went to Bur Dubai, the oldest area in Dubai. We first went to the Dubai Museum. The first half of the museum was in the restored Al Fahidi Fort which was built in 1787 and is one of the oldest surviving buildings in the area. The second part of the museum were a series of underground exhibits tracing Dubai’s history from thousands of millennia ago to the present. While it was interesting seeing some of the old artifacts and the displays, I especially liked the significance that the museum gave commercial life in traditional Emirati society (especially the clothing and jewelry). For over two millennia Dubai has been trading with places as far as southeastern Africa, India, and Europe. With this early history of trade and the rise of souqs (markets) in the nineteenth century, the museum seemed to suggest that wealth has always been a part of the local identity, providing an explanation and even a justification for the extreme wealth that has recently been amassed in Dubai. It is as if the museum is saying that global trade and wealth have always been part of the city’s heritage, and, in a sense, that it is the country’s destiny to be wealthy.

Following the museum, we walked around the Bur Dubai souq for a little while before stopping for coffee, fresh mint lemonade, and hummus on the Dubai Creek. It was fun watching all of the dhows taking people up and down and to either side of the creek. Once an informal and the only way to get from one side of Dubai to the other (from Bur Dubai to Deira), now the Roads and Transport Authority manages this frantic rush of people and boats around the creek. After our snack, we went upstairs to find out that this building was owned by the first British trader in Dubai (the building next door was the former HSBC bank). From the roof, we had a great view of the creek on one side, and the souq and two large mosques on the other, one of which is the famous and beautifully-tiled Iranian mosque. We then went back into the souq and ended up buying a beautiful patchwork wall-hanging of an elephant which was made India.

When we left the souq, we walked along the water for a while. There were lots of preserved houses along the creek. Lots of them have been turned into museums including the Heritage Village, the Diving Village, and the House of Camels. The security guard let us in to the House of Camels for a personal tour. The building was a beautiful old house, with all of the rooms dedicated to exploring a different part about the role that camels play in traditional Emirati life. Each room that we went in got more and more entertaining. In one the rooms, the walls were lined with different textures that depicted the inside of a camel’s stomach. The final room was probably my personal highlight since I’ve been in the UAE. We got in and there were two life-size mechanical camels facing us. The guard told me that I could get on one of them. Once I mounted him, the camel made a few noises and shook his head. Then the lights turned off and the projector behind me turned on. I quickly found myself on the racetrack for my first camel race. My camel quickly started running for the finish line. While I didn’t win, I felt like a real champion after the first race.

To finish the night in Bur Dubai, we stopped at another restaurant on the water for a nice birthday banana split. Next, we walked back up the creek a little ways to look for a taxi. What we thought wouldn’t take too long, turned out to be an hour-long misadventure. Whereas Julie enjoyed walking around the creek since she was not the only woman for once (where we live it is ONLY Indian and Pakistani men), as soon as we left to look for a taxi, we quickly returned to the usual gendered landscape. As I battled hundreds of Pakistani men for the few taxis that arrived, I could faintly hear Julie signing in the background: “Where have all the women gone?” (to the tune of Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?”). Eventually, we left the area (and our dignity) outside the Carrefour Grocery Store in search of greener pastures and, luckily, we found a taxi in not too much time at all.

We then ventured to Dubai Festival City to continue our normal Friday routine. We purchased a new book at Magrudy‘s, got a few things for our flat at IKEA, and had coffee at Mugg and Bean’s before going to Hyper Panda for a few groceries. After these errands, we got in the line for a taxi home. The line went quickly at first but soon slowed down once the Queen concert finished across the street. Yes, that’s right, Queen, played Dubai last night and we got to hear the last seven songs of their set. After another hour-long wait for a taxi, we eventually made it home after our long day.

"The problem was that their were always problems."

This was one of the transition sentences for one of my students when they were writing survival stories. In English class, we are working about writing stories using complete sentences, that for my sake, don’t begin each sentence with the word “then.” They are at the age where KFC stands for “Kids Farting Club” and their favorite part of the Science book is the pictures about the digestive system. While they are at school, talking to one another and sports are the most important parts of their life. When they are home, it sounds like all but one boy spend most of their time playing video games. During our first parent-teacher meetings, I had one parent concerned that their child was not doing his homework because he watched too much TV and played too many video games (unfortunately, not letting their son watch TV or play video games was not an option for their son finishing his homework). Many of them also like WWF wrestling and I frequently walk into class or see them on the playground as they are “play fighting.”

The twenty-seven boys are all between nine and eleven years old. All but one of the students are Muslim. The class is a little over half Arab and half from elsewhere (with students from India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and Ethiopia). Of the Arab students, they are about half from elsewhere in the Arab world and half locals. Since Wesgreen International School (where I teach) is growing in size very rapidly. Many of the teachers and parents are complaining that it is too rapidly. For instance, the school was hoping to have two new sections completed at the Boys School and neither were totally ready for the school year. So right now, half of the school and playground are an active construction area. With the increase in size there are quite a few new students at the school. All of the students do speak English although some students speak a lot stronger than others. So in addition to students divergent learning capacities, there is a definite language imbalance between the different students. I imagine it is similar to a school in the U.S. with a large Hispanic population, where the learning gaps are accentuated by the students differing linguistic abilities.

After our Eid Holiday, I moved the students to table groups instead of rows. Although they’ve been talking more, its allowed me to keep them more quiet when I need and work with students who need additional help. I’ve also got even more of a sense of my student’s personalities. Most of the time this has been for the better and it’s been fun learning more about what makes these ten-year-old boys tick. It was more unfortunate to learn that one of my students is the first ten-year-old narcissist that I think I have ever met. I was talking to one of my students who said that this other student makes all of his decisions by doing whatever he wants to do at that moment (which includes sleeI’m gradually working on finding different techniques to manage my classroom more effectively. ping in class, rarely paying attention, and throwing an eraser at my back in class today). Luckily, I asked the student who told me about this narcissist how he thought it was to live his life that way. He quickly responded that he didn’t think it was a very good way to live his life and it wouldn’t make him very happy.

"Who needs John McCain when you have John McClane?"

While I’m sure I have not gotten as much of the election frenzy as in the U.S., a lot has trickled down in one way or another since I‘ve been here. The following are a few of my favorite election anecdotes that I’ve heard either here or in Turkey over the past few weeks. When we had elections at school for Headboy and Chairs of the sports and academic clubs, the students would come around and campaign in each class and put posters up in the hallway. My favorite said “Vote Obama” and the Obama was crossed out and replaced by Saud Al-Qasimi. The highlight from TV was from Dubai One. It started by showing several clips of John McCain speaking followed by several Fox News pundits responding to his campaign. Then the ad begins, “Who needs John McCain when we have John McClane?” The McCain political clips are quickly replaced by clips of Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies. As John McClane kills a couple villains, the ad continues, “He knows how to negotiate with terrorists.” The ad finishes asking again “Who needs John McCain when we have John McClane? Watch the Die Hard movies, every night this week.” The last occurrence took place at a small pide restaurant in Eyup in Istanbul where the owners spoke no English (and we spoke no Turkish). Afterwards, when we were walking away and thanking them for a delicious lunch , one of them said, “I am Barack Obama.” So that’s what the election season has been looking like so far. The international news has covered the campaigns extensively, including re-broadcasting the debates. Anyways, I’ll hopefully be blogging about this topic right after the election itself.

Istanbul has even more mosques...

A couple of weeks ago, Julie and I and our friends Sarah and Sayeed went to Istanbul. We were staying just south of the Blue Mosque, a short walk up from the Sea of Marmara. We had a great time seeing the lots of mosques, the Aya Sofia, the Grand Bazaar, the Topkapi Palace, the Basilica Cistern, and the other museums and sights in the historic Sultanahmet area. We also had some great daytrips around the city taking a boat up the Bosphorus, exploring the old city walls in the pouring rain at the castle-like Yedikule Museum, walking around with the hoards of people in Taksim, seeing the Eyup Mosque and the Byzantine mosaics and frescoes at the Kariye Museum, and learning more about Istanbul’s history and visual culture at the Istanbul Modern Art Museum. Throughout the whole week, the weather was about as perfect as it could have been, a nice 23 C with one day of very pleasant rain.

The most interesting part about being in Istanbul was seeing how the old and the new would interact in the city’s cultural, political, and religious heritage. The most expressive example of this were at the churches-turned-mosques. At the Kariye Museum (formerly the Church of St. Savior in Chora), the narthex and the funerary chapel were filled with beautiful mosaics and frescoes depicting everything from the life of Christ to the Resurrection and the Second Coming where the Unquenchable Fire, the Outer Darkness, and the Gnashing of Teeth were all depicted in graphic detail. However, in the sanctuary itself (which would have been used for worship by Muslims), all of the iconography had been plastered over and was unrecoverable. In the Aya Sofia, there were several spots where the Muslim motifs were fading from the Ottoman-era to expose the washed-out crosses from the even earlier Byzantine time.

It was also interesting being there with Sarah and Sayeed. Sarah had lots of people comment about the fact that she was Muslim and was “closed” (meaning that she wore a hijab). It seems like more than anywhere else in the world, the hijab serves as a major fault line for your identity. You are either living in Turkey’s traditional past or trying to move forward into the globalizing world. From the short time we were there, it seemed like people viewed themselves as living on one side or the other of this ever-present divide that separates the traditional and the modern. Since Sarah didn’t fall between these two categories, she had lots of people asking for her life-story and how, as an American, she became a Muslim. It was interesting to see and hear. Traveling with the two of them, Julie and I went to places we probably would not have visited otherwise. The most interesting of which was the mosque in Eyup, which is the fourth holiest site in Islam since the tomb of the Prophet’s standard-bearer is located here. Julie and I met a very friendly man who gave Julie bird-food for the pigeons in the courtyard and explained more about why Eyup was special and what he did in the area. It was a definite highlight of the trip.

The other highlights of the trip ranged from everything to feeding fish at the ancient Basilica Cistern to drinking water out of copper cups that were next to rudimentary drinking fountains throughout the city. The day we went to the Yedikule Museum was probably my favorite part of the week. We took the train down the Sea to the museum. Even on a Saturday, we were virtually the only ones at this huge enclosure that looked and seemed just like an ancient castle. We walked up and down the dimly-lit stairs to the top of the walls where we could see all of western Istanbul and the storm coming in from the sea. After thinking it might circle around us, the skies just opened up right over the castle. After being in the Middle East for the past couple month, however, it was more than pleasant to be rained on for a while. When we were coming up the last of the towers, over 30 mosques (that we counted) in the nearby areas all sounded their adan for mid-day prayer. They sounded like dogs barking at one another in the middle of the night, all trying to be the one that was heard. Afterwards, already soaking wet, we walked around looking for the remains of the Church of St. John of Studius that was built in 463. Although there was no one around to let us into the church, we found four puppies just under the fence of the old church. My favorite, Maximilion, came right under the fence to greet us. After some nice petting and drying him off a bit, I put him back with his more shy brothers and we walked back to the train.

The other story that I wanted to tell was in the Basilica Cistern. In the back of the chamber there were two marble carvings of Medusa’s head that were supporting the cistern’s pillars. The first was turned sideways and in the second one she was turned upside down. The second sculpture reminded me of an evocative story that Terry Tempest Williams once told. She talked about a statue in downtown Santa Fe of a St. Francis and a prairie dog. St. Francis is looking down at the prairie dog as the prairie dog looks at St. Francis from his hind legs. If you look down at the prairie dog‘s head, you can see how the copper has the gold-tint from being rubbed down over and over. Since the prairie dog is at ground level, you have to pause and bend over to rub his head. The same things happened with the Medusa sculpture in the cistern. The rest of the marble was dirty from the moisture that constantly enclosed this space. However, her chin (since she was upside down), had been rubbed clean. It just makes you think of how many people took the time to pause, bend down, and reach over the water to touch her chin.

Overall, we had a great time. We came back with some very pretty iznik ceramics and two very nice prints from the Istanbul Modern Art Museum (one of which we just got on the wall last night). I'll hopefully be posting more about my life here in Sharjah throughout the next couple of weeks.

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.