Toasting Eid in the Desert

Ramadan concluded last Saturday when the official sighting of the next new moon was declared, ushering in the beginning of the Eid Al Fitr holiday. On Sunday, a few of us from the office were invited to an afternoon/evening excursion to the desert with a seaside dinner at the tour operator's camp. Halfway there, we went off-road and the drivers in our Land Cruiser caravan of 4 let air out of the tires for better traction and the stop was equipped with camel riding entertainment for the attention-challenged. I checked out the ones off duty...

Another 30-40km and we arrived at the dusk photo op spot.

The craggy shoreline in the horizon is Saudi Arabia, another 35km away from border control. We instituted a standard office snap called the jumpshot, coerced by the Aussie (left) that coordinates it on every trip she takes. In the middle is our resident Dutchman and the other lady is from the northeast, like me. I captured the action shot best, so I'm not in it. It reminds me of the pictures my sister used to take in front of any Matisse painting of "The Dancers" with her friends at august museums and galleries 20 years ago...and now I am jumping in the Arabian desert.

Food & Falcons still on deck but the holiday is over and time to get a language tutor.

First Eid

Almost two weeks into this new life and thankfully, Ramadan is just a few days away from conclusion. On Thursday, Eid leave begins at the office and next week everything is closed for three days. So the 1-7pm month-long Ramadan closures are now replaced with all-day closures. The city should empty out for planned vacations to the coast or other spots in the region. Some of the westerners in the office will work through it, including yours truly. I am looking forward to meeting the tea and coffee crew that resume their duties on Sunday the 27th, the first day back after the Eid holiday. One of the Aussies on my end of the western wing swears the weather gets "really nice" in October and will host us for a "barbee"...we may have different views on what "nice" is...

I attended a Ramadan dinner last week hosted by an Iraqi colleague who miraculously presented an extravagant feast after working that day - she's an accomplished Levantine cook and insists I teach her how to make risotto in her kitchen. She had us falling out of our chairs with tales of bureaucratic impasse this summer - she must find new housing and replace her passport as there's an error in her grandfather's name. I met another Iraqi, a painter, at a Ramadan Suhour dinner, who quietly expressed his view that "with Saddam, there was only one." I marvel at the joie de vivre each of these very different people possess.

I quickly snapped this photo during the noon call to prayer last Friday at a cultural center, where the women go to prayer outside of the home while the men go to the mosques. I am still getting used to the local women in the head-to-toe abaya as well as undergoing a transformation of my own work wear. It's not sufficient to be covered to the elbow and knee - - the fabrics cannot be transparent and the fit cannot be too tight. Pushing the envelope on that front places a woman in jeopardy of losing respect and not being invited to meetings, etc. My (American female) boss was not pleased with an outfit I chose last week and let me know it, so now I am semi-paranoid and determining that a good chunk of my clothing may be unsuitable for the office.

Found a great yoga studio in the middle of town owned by a Brit that's been a yogi for 20+ years. She's an excellent instructor and the classes are filled with ex-pats in normal yoga wear. There's no a/c in the studio so it's pseudo-Bikram without the sadist instruction. They are hosting a yoga workshop in Zanzibar over Eid...something to pencil in for next year! One must cover up going in and out despite the ambient heat and the studio conditions as there's a mosque across the street...their web site warns against parking in the Imam's space.

Which brings me to traffic. It's not as dense as NYC but the drivers are out of their minds. There are 3-lane roundabouts all over town to keep movement flowing. This little goodie in the photo above snaps a shot of your car if you're speeding, running a red light, making a traffic menace of yourself, and you are not notified by mail. Good luck leaving the airport on your next flight as license plates are tied to passport, visa, and Resident Permit details and accumulated tickets must be paid, or you are denied boarding. The fines are steep and there's a web site where one can check for infractions/fines. I am still enjoying the privilege of a driver that's at my disposal the first month so these vehicular adjustments are not yet on my plate. I should be memorizing the sequence of the roundabouts and landmarks as we go around town for meetings and other errands but I end up studying and quizzing myself on Arabic numbers on the license plates, which are displayed above the cardinal (thank you, Wiki) numbers on all plates. I can read the numbers on contracts/estimates in Arabic at work now but I still don't know how to get around town very well. Priorities.

I'll look into an Arabic tutor and a sailing class after Eid (everything is "after Eid" these days). In the meantime, it may only be 98 degrees by the weekend.

Food and Falcons to follow...

Labor Day

Fifteen years ago, I moved to New York over Labor Day weekend. This Labor Day, I moved to the Persian Gulf, departing Dulles with a full moon rising and deplaning on the tarmac to the same full moon the following night and the distant sound of the call to prayer. The photo is of a mosque outside my window at daybreak on Sunday around 5am. It's all auspicious.

First day of assimilation on Saturday wasn't too bad - spent the better part of the day at the W Hotel either at the Bliss Spa or at lunch at Spice Market; the jet lag, heat and the clandestine eating and drinking during daylight were the only indicators that I was no longer in New York.

But then there was the first day at the office....the protocol to obtain a Resident Permit, Driver's License and Liquor Permit were loosely explained and apologies offered for the absence of the "coffee and tea people" during Ramadan as no one is allowed to eat or drink anything during daylight at the office. They will apparently resume their duties at the end of Eid Al Fitr, which follows the conclusion of Ramadan, when the office will be officially closed for 10 days. Right now, the place clears at 1pm so the faithful can finish their fast in the comfort of home and all the shops are closed at 1pm until 8pm, when they reopen past midnight.

All the local women wear the Abaya at the office and the men wear the Thobe, a long white tunic with a white or red-checked headpiece secured with a black ring. It was initially odd to see such a concentration of this customary dress as the city is teeming with nationals from the Philippines, Indonesia, Pakistan, India, secular Muslims from other parts of the region and westerners from Europe, Australia and the US, who do not dress as such. My PC keyboard has both the English and Arabic keys and if I can wrest a company-issued BlackBerry from HR, the keys will be the same on this device. My eyes are adjusting to a lot.

There are two other Americans in my area that arrived 8 weeks ago, at the height of the savage heat and humidity. They laughed at me today when we departed the office at 3pm and it felt like peak heat since my arrival Friday night - it was 105 degrees and extremely humid. They've not only toughed out the temporary hotel arrangements and the rigomorol of obtaining the permits and licenses but they are also certified heat warriors, having endured 115+ degree days and sandstorms in August.

I plan to go to yoga boot camp at a studio I just found during Eid, if the office is indeed closed or on an abbreviated schedule. I cannot maintain my 90-minute walking regimen here as it's too hot and as a woman, I cannot wear shorts and must wear sleeves - not my idea of an exhilarating walk by the Persian Gulf in this sauna...maybe in December. Until then, I'll be a gym rat and find my schedule at the yoga. My heart sinks a little to miss the US Open at Flushing Meadows for the first time in 14 years but happy to be here.