Dog Days of Summer

For me, this expression has taken on entirely new meaning. The 11am heat is unfathomable - heat indexes of 120+ are normal several times a week at this time, stretching to 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Seeking relief with a drink of water in public is not only culturally insensitive but amounts to heresy (to some) during the holy month of Ramadan.

The inspection decal on my license plate reads August 2010. Being the middle of August, I started inquiring this week amongst colleagues what I had to do to avoid a ticket on September 1. Apparently I have to have the car inspected so I started asking friends if they knew anyone who I could pay to go do it in the middle of the desert where all this stuff is done. I made tentative arrangements for this weekend and ironically, my clutch went out on the way home from work the next day. So instead of paying someone to deal with the inspection, I had to arrange a tow to the dealership's repair shop, also out in the middle of the desert. It's been 2 days and I still don't have a quotation. The South Asian clerk that received my vehicle and entered it into the system called this morning to advise that my transmission is being dismantled and I might have a quotation by Saturday. Since it's Ramadan, they only work 8am-1pm.

To take my mind off the vehicle misfortune, I joined a friend for a walk on the property of a barn where she has been riding a horse for the last year. The barn is out in the middle of the desert, in the other direction from the industrial area, and the property has a natural well that runs underneath part of it. We led her horse out of the stables and across a stretch of craggy desert into a verdant date palm grove with peacocks and peahens scampering around and screeching to alert one another of our presence. It was dusk and very warm (about 105 with the heat index), but a welcome escape from our respective daily grinds. Here are some snaps from the transformative dusk:

1431

"According to tradition, Ramadan - the month of revelation - was instituted in the second year of the Hejira, eight years before the death of the Prophet. Together with the profession of faith, prayer, charitable giving, and the pilgrimage to Mecca, it is one of the five pillars of Islam. Ramadan lasts for one lunar cycle, during which the faithful must abstain from eating, drinking, smoking, or sexual relations from sunrise to sunset.

During this period, believers experience hunger and thirst, and test their resistance to temptation. Mortified in this way, disconnected from the everyday nourishment and in search of alternative stimuli through reflection and prayer, the body attains new states, satisfying the believer's quest for spirituality. The observance of Ramadan is a religious obligation for all Muslims beyond the age of puberty - a moral duty whose means of fulfillment are clearly described in the Hadith, and which is supposed to encourage the faithful to share and understand human suffering.

Nightfall - or more precisely the moment at which it is no longer possible under natural light to distinguish a black thread from a white one - marks the end of the fast, and a return to normal eating, with a meal following a carefully codified program. The first morsel is a date with some water, in reference to the food of the Prophet. Next comes liquids - soup and fruit juices - served with salad, to prepare the stomach for more substantial food. Carbohydrates are served later in the evening: couscous, pasta or rice, and finally pastries.

Throughout the month of Ramadan, then, families who can afford to do so enjoy festive meals and celebrations every evening. Paradoxically for a practice intended to promote an ideal of asceticism, the abundant consumption of sugars and the lack of physical effort undertaken during the day often result in noticeable weight gain for the greediest eaters. Festive family gatherings generally result in noisy activity after nightfall, hence the French expression faire du ramadan, "to make a racket," which entered the language at the end of the nineteenth century."

Milet, Eric, Orientalist Photographs 1870-1950, Flammiron (2008), p. 40.

I came across this description of the holy month and thought it worth sharing (a few French insights excepted, but I left them). I walked at 6am today with my equally insane walking partner. Knowing that the refreshment stand would be closed at our halfway mark where we usually buy 3 bottles each (one to be poured over the head), we had to organize our cars and plant the illicit cooler in my Jeep so we could get some water in the 100+ temps an hour later by climbing in, dripping with sweat, and sneaking some much-needed hydration.

All over town there are state-of-the-art tents with massive a/c installations set up adjacent to the hotels. They go up for the month of Ramadan and serve Iftar (the fast-breaking meal at dusk) and Sohour (the more festive meal at 9pm). We went to one of these tents Wednesday night and enjoyed great food, shisha, and fantastic live music. I am looking for the tent with the whirling dervishes for the next Sohour outing and cameras are permitted - stay tuned.

P.S. The self-righteous rhetoric surrounding the construction of the Islamic Center in lower Manhattan is nauseating. If Newt Gingrich never opens his mouth again, it will be too soon.

Bling Creep

It's happened. Bling Creep is what I refer to as the incremental transformation in esthetic from minimalist to the "more is more" camp of Gulf tastes, specifically in the embellishment category. Creep as in mission creep in military boondoggles that start out with a clearly defined objective (ideology) and with the passage of time, the indigenous conditions prevail and compromise the original position. All of the sudden, I find that my closet has a significant sequin presence...t-shirts, sandals, and a handbag clad in matte or more rarely, super-shiny sequins. This (former) minimalist has fallen for the indigenous bling tendency but it doesn't end with the closet.

My furnished corporate apartment is distinguished by all the furnishings I had removed and placed into the building's storage and the replacement accessories that convey my locally-inspired interest in bling. A collection of bejeweled pillows have slowly accumulated on the insipid orange couches in an effort to diminish the hideousness of that orange since I will not pay for or endure the hassle of having them slip-covered.

Tonight's dusk ushered in the first of Ramadan. It's a month of anarchy for a westerner and we've been dreading it accordingly. My favorite falafel sandwich place near the office will be open from 4pm-4am as the faithful can eat only after the sunset and before dawn. Office hours are 8am-1pm since no food or drink can be consumed during the day and one is not expected to last a full day in this heat with these abstinence requirements and produce quality output. Alcohol permit holders had until dusk today to purchase a month's supply of alcohol because the one store in town is closed for the holy month. The madness in that place was epic these last weeks...like the rush for water, batteries and non-perishables when news breaks of an inbound category 5 hurricane in South Florida in August. The restaurants and hotels with liquor licenses are not permitted to serve alcohol for a month. My local intel has determined that the one place to consume alcohol in public is the golf club. Since my weekly Friday brunch with another New Yorker is now suspended until mid-September, we're headed for a private lesson and a bucket of balls on the driving range. It will be hotter than hell but we'll deal with that at the bar.

Talalla

It's 122 degrees with the humidity factored in at noon as I type. This has been the weather story for the last month and there's at least another month to go. I have gone for a couple 2-hour walks at 5:30 in the morning that have felt like death marches and wipe me out for the balance of the day. I don't even bother walking at night as the temperature at 11pm is still comparable to 95+ degrees. By the end of September the oppressive factor relents and one can resume enjoying some time outdoors. In the meantime, getting away is key.

I went to Sri Lanka in July for a multipurpose reprieve. When a planned long weekend in Muscat with friends looked improbable, I went online and searched "yoga, Sri Lanka" and the first result on the water was Talalla Retreat http://www.talallaretreat.com/. I phoned them, made a reservation and tried to get a straight answer about current sleeping conditions. The web site's accommodation description caused some alarm for this potential guest enduring furnace conditions in the Arabian Gulf:

The resort features eight two-storey villas each contain four spacious bedrooms with distinct tropical characters. All rooms are bright and airy, boasting generous open sky-marble bathrooms, and private balconies or patios with lush oasis views. There is no need for air conditioning as all rooms are cooled by natural sea breezes and ceiling fans.


I was thrilled to arrive and discover tolerable tropical weather and a gorgeous setting in which to unwind and enjoy 4+ hours daily of strengthening and rejuvenating yoga; a marvel to consider that Talalla Bay is on the Indian Ocean where the next land coordinate south is the Antarctic. I stayed in the top right room of this villa, with a view to the pool and the yoga shala. The open shower is built at the rear of the villa with total privacy and views upward to jack fruit trees and the monkeys.

It was a fantastic week tempered by the beautiful setting as well as the people. The resort is owned by a group of shareholders and my visit coincided with that of two shareholders with a fascinating story: Hayley and Jess are cousins from Australia and after the 2004 tsunami, they volunteered in Sri Lanka to help rebuild a devastated coastline. The cousins landed in Talalla Bay and after more than a year of hard work alongside the villagers, the cousins realized that rebuilding homes and cleaning up was only the beginning of the assistance that was needed. Together, they decided to create a sportswear collection inspired by their passion for a vibrant country with a social venture that could perpetuate their bond to the Talalla community, creating sustainable livelihoods for all stakeholders.

Please visit their web site and look for their label in Australia: http://www.kissincussin.com.au/.

Another charm of the resort is the cousins' dog, Strider. There are dogs everywhere in southern Sri Lanka and this one is a most special species. He joins every yoga class, sleeping on a cushion at the front of the shala. He has zero tolerance for the occasional pigeon that flies into the space whereupon he abruptly jumps from his cozy cushion and chases the offending bird out. Strider slept in my villa on my last night and his disposition was withdrawn the day I left with the other yogi travelers...he notices the packed bags and doesn't like departures.

I can't say enough about the magic of Sri Lanka. I will definitely return.