Lebanon

I'm totally going non-chronological here, so apologies for any and all confusion.  Last week's visit to Beirut was long overdue, and a highlight of my sabbatical to be sure.  Stayed in the same apartment where we lived in 2010-2011, ate at the same amazing man'oushe stand (Snack Faysal) every morning, and best of all caught up with good friends: Karine, Nancy, Rula, Amy, Lina, Lisa, Malakeh, Zane, and Rima.  I have lived in places much longer than the year I spent living in Lebanon and struggled to make close friends in those other places.  Sometimes, a place just becomes a home, one of your homes, and you have to express thankfulness for the blessing of having more than one such place.  Out for lunch with the gang from the English Department at the school I visited during that year, a friend said one of the nicest, most gratifying thing anybody has ever said to me: "you really fit in here."  For a person who has always struggled to do just that, those words meant so much to me.

Walking around the Hamra neighborhood, drinking at the best coffee shop in Beirut, seeing the same faces at the money change stands and on front stoops...man what a warm, exciting city.  I thought we had combed every inch of the small country during that year, but Karine showed us otherwise--Our Lady of Zahle shrine and the Jesuit dairy farm (a lakeside bike ride!) in Tannayel, both in the Bekaa; the monastic cell and adjacent shrine to the Maronite saint Mar Charbel; a seaside restaurant in Byblos for a plate of echnidia fruit.  A perfect long weekend.  It was as hard to leave this time as it was in 2011.

East coast

Pics here.

Today, for the first time, I drove in the Middle East.  Nicole and I rented a tuna can, I mean car, and headed for the East Coast (the Arabia Sea side) of the Emirates.  I’ve gone swimming on the Persia Gulf side several times, but wanted to experience the other coast as well, and Nicole’s goal is to go to all seven emirates before going home.   Also we’ve been leaning on our dear friend Rana so much that we felt her car needed a break.  So we decided to take the plunge.  Felt so liberating and self-sufficient.  Who knows, maybe I’ll even drive in Lebanon next time I’m there.

Anyway, we drove through the Hajar Mountains, spooky black peaks that span much of the Eastern Emirates as well as parts of Oman.  It was hot, high 90s for those of you who are Farenheit fans, but the tuna can was nicely chilled.  First stop, Musafi (rhymes with Yousefy, our nephew’s nickname!) in the Emirate of Fujairah.  Some say the idea of the “drive through” originated in Musafi.  You can pull up alongside and make purchases from produce vendors and guys selling local pomegranate juice, coconut water, and corn on the cob with lime and salt.  Really lovely, and with few of the modern trappings of Dubai.  Also, rug sellers line the streets with Iranian and Afghani imports.

On to Fujairah Emirate’s main port city.  Coolest thing about Fujairah, Fujairah: the roundabouts.  It looks a lot like Sharjah, Sharjah, except that most roundabouts boast some type of enormous sculpture or statue in the middle.  You have the incense burner roundabout, the boat roundabout, the rose water decanter (I think it’s just a pitcher, but Nicole named it as such) roundabout, and the coffee pot roundabout which comes surrounded by huge clay cups.  Very nice.  Also, delicious Lebanese restaurant called Al-Meshwar where we enjoyed a late breakfast of fo’ul (fava beans), olives, cheese bread, and tea.

Headed north along the sea and passed through Khor Fakkan and other coastal towns that look much older than Dubai and Abu Dhabi and even Sharjah, and with a fraction of the traffic.  Aside from a couple oil refineries (dead give-away), the East Coast almost looks pre-oil.  We stopped in Badiyah to see the old minaret-free mosque, allegedly from the 1400s, and the two ancient looking watchtowers above it.  Climbing the old stone steps to the watchtowers may have been the hottest moment of our time in the UAE.  I mean, great view of the mosque, the sea, a date palm oasis…but THE HEAT!

Kept going north to Dibba.  Dibba is a fishing village.  Part of the village is technically in Sharjah, part in Fujairah, and part in a totally different country: Oman.  Weird.  We wanted to hit the beach in Dibba but mostly the coast there is stony and full of fishing boats.  So we backtracked a bit down the coast and found a pristine looking area.  No changing facilities so we got pretty creative with a skirt and a big beach towel.  Voila, ready for the sea.  Okay, the Arabia Sea can be violent so we didn’t go very deep.  The water felt amazing after exploring those watchtowers in Badiyah, until a wave knocked me on my ass and sent my sunglasses flying.  As in my prescription sunglasses that I can’t drive without even on sunny days in North America.  I was sure they were gone, crazy waves crashing all around us, but Nicole spotted them.  I pounced, knee making contact with a huge rock, and missed the glasses as a big wave came in.  The wave retreated and Nicole saw them again.  I pounced again and got ‘em.  My knee was bleeding, but I miraculously had my glasses, and the sea was salty enough to kill most anything.  At least I hope.  So we swam a bit longer, did another stealth costume change, and found another corn on the cob guy.

Proud to say that my driving and navigation were pretty good.  Through no fault of my own, though, the tuna can did sustain a minor injury, one to match my knee gash I guess.  Driving back to Sharjah, a car in front of us hit something in the road—looked like a piece of coil or heavy cable maybe—and the object came flying at us and hit the front bumper.  Not a big deal at all, but it punctured a hole in the bumper.  Here’s where being married to a lawyer comes in handy.  Nicole went straight to the rental agreement which said that the car’s insurance covers just about any type of damage the car sustains but only if you file a police report.  To the little police station right by campus.  Super nice Sharjah cop totally appreciated the rudimentary Arabic I spoke with him but luckily also spoke English.  He took down all the information and said the police would issue the report in three business days after they wait to see if anybody else (e.g., the person who hit the coil to begin with) also files a report about the incident.  Strange, but we’re cautiously optimistic it all works out.

Stay tuned, readers—and I don’t just mean to see how my knee and insurance claim work out.  We kept our slightly dinged tuna can and are tentatively planning to drive to Abu Dhabi tomorrow.

A couple news hits

Campus was briefly on lockdown this afternoon after the imam of the our University's mosque was attacked by a former student and stabbed.  Campus police quickly caught the man, the lockdown is over, and everybody is now safe.  Here's the story from the Gulf News.

Also in today's news, a woman accused of consensual sex (a crime in the UAE) has made waves in Dubai by refusing the judge's suggestion that she marry the dude in order to receive a lighter sentence.  Really fascinating story on several levels.  Check it out.

Trethewey and Merrill

My campus hosted two major U.S. poets this week: Natasha Trethewey (current poet laureate) and Christopher Merrill.  They gave a master class for our English majors and faculty and shared some useful ideas and insights.  Some random things I jotted down for future reference/use/reading:

• Trethewey often consults the OED, sometimes looking up every single work she uses in a given poem.  This allows her to consider secondary and tertiary meanings of words, connotations, implications, and etymologies.  Could be a cool assignment for students?
• "Make a house for the reader to inhabit," Trethewey's shorthand for writing reader-based poems.  She stressed the value of accessibility and the need to re-imagine and re-frame experiences so they're relevant to others as well.  Avoid self-indulgence!
• Merrill: Emily Dickinson wrote 400 poems in 1862 and didn't mention the Civil War (explicitly) a single time.
• Both: poets are in conversation with one another, so read widely.  Play with call-and-response.  Merrill talked about a project (that may or may not "go anywhere") where he and a writer-friend send prose-poems back and forth to one another.  A kind of collaboration or mutual inquiry.
• Find the essay "The Display of Mackerel" (?) by Mark Doty.
• Write about everyday objects.  Have students write about everyday objects.  Start with at least 3-4 lines of description before imposing any metaphors, judgments, rhetorical statements, comparisons, etc.  Share Charles Simic's "Fork."  Brilliant piece.
• Trethewey: big fan of writing about a photograph, painting, poem, or film.  Pieces of art are writing prompts.
• Charles Simic's "1938."  Write about your year-of-both.  Just make a series of declarations.  Facts about the year.  See what develops.  Cool idea for class, though it would be a BUNCH of poems about 1995!

Entertaining, Part 3

Didn't get home from Jordan until 2:00 a.m. early Saturday morning.  Back in Sharjah and happy to be reunited with Nicole, I got a good night's sleep.  Steve and Tony did too.  I dashed over to the student union to get some cough drops (I was losing my voice) and some coffee for my brother and got up everybody up and ready to roll by Noon or so.  Our friend Rana and her kids Majdoline and Bader swung by to pick us up to go to Dubai.  Majdoline suggested a Palestinian-owned restaurant in the city called Mezza House, where the Syrian chef is creative and quite skilled.  Definitely a fancier place than where Nicole and I generally eat, this was a treat, especially the fried kibbeh with pomegranate, the mint lemonade, and the musakhan (chicken and spices, including lots of onion and sumac, rolled up in pieces of bread--a Palestinian specialty).  Across the street to Dubai Mall and the entrance to Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building.  The seven of us headed up to the lookout deck, take loads of pictures, and generally monkey around.  It was a nice way to spend Steve's last day--visiting, eating well, passing the time with friends.

Rana got us all tickets for the Syrian cultural club's folkloric program on campus that night, but my brother had to prep for his flight so we all headed back to AUS and the main building, where Tony and Steve said their farewells.  I walked Steve back to the apartment, where he finished packing and checked on his flight.  He set off for the airport and I stowed away in his taxi for a ride across campus, where I joined the Syrian program already in progress.  Tony and Nicole were with Rana and family up front but I didn't want to disturb anybody's view so I hung back most of the night.  The Syrian club did a really great job, putting on a kind of variety show featuring poetry, song, and dance, not to mention the interpretive drama they wrote and produced for Global Day.  Really lovely stuff.

And then there were three.

I had to teach early the next month and my voice was just about non-existent.  Luckily students were bringing in drafts to workshop, so much of class they were reading and discussing each other's works-in-progress with minimal intervention from me.  After class and office hours, Nicole and I took Tony back to the Central Souk as T. wanted to get a dishdasha in order to carry out his master plan of wearing traditional Arab garb all the way from Sharjah to San Francisco.  He found a deal, then we took a warm (HOT) walk to the Afghan restaurant we like, Afghani al Kabab, home of the "family seating" section where they make women/mixed gender groups sit (i.e., in a booth that has a shower curtain to keep us out of sight of other [male] customers).  Delicious chunks of meal and chicken with lots of garlic and black pepper, served with "polaw" (kind of like a biryani but even more flavorful).  It was cloudy--weird!--so we took advantage.  The three of us strolled on the corniche, along with water, and popped into several kitchen stores, making our way to the public beach in town, where Tony and I took a dip in the Persian Gulf--he hadn't yet gotten to do that, believe it or not.

The next day, Tony's last, was one final day to take advantage of cultural opportunities.  Rana's former student manages the Islamic Museum in town and got us some v.i.p. treatment at what is Sharjah's underrated gem.  The Islamic Museum boasts beautiful, priceless artwork and cultural artifact's from Islam's entire history.  You can't help but learn about the faith there.  In particular, their artifacts and displays focusing on the haaj are memorable and enlightening.  Mohammad, Rana's student, spent much of the day with us (when he wasn't taking meetings), and treated us to coffee twice and tea once, even giving us all kinds of goodies to take home, including copies of one of the museum's coffee table guidebooks.  This is one of my favorite places in the UAE, no exaggeration.  We grabbed a quick bite at Kalha, the Palestinian place in Sharjah with the best hummus in the world, then back to campus just in time for the poetry reading featuring Christopher Merrill and U.S. poet laureate Natasha Trethewey, who both did a bang-up job.  Trethewey's elegies were especially powerful and, hey, it was an honor to see a sitting poet laureate read.  Nicole and I both accompanied Tony to the airport on the Metro and were pretty sad to see him go.  It's so quiet around here now--less laughing without T in the house!  But what a trip.  Man, did we pack in the activity.  Two days later, I'm still exhausted. 

And then there were two.

Entertaining, Part 2

So my brother Steve arrived last Sunday, April 14, although who can tell?  The past two weeks are blurry.  I whipped up a quick vegetarian biryani that night and Rana sent over a middle-eastern style rice pudding.  I took Steve on a walking tour of campus and then he was ready for rest so we could start partying on Monday.  We decided to do a morning jaunt to Sharjah and then head straight to Dubai.  Who knew Nicole and Steve would be such great tag-team partners in the souks?  They managed to get some good deals for my brother, who really liked the blue souk (aka, Islamic souk, aka Central souk) and got, among other things, a beautiful table cloth from Afghanistan.  Tony, Nicole, Steve, and I spent the better part of the morning there, soaking up (theoretically at least) the a.c. for our walk across town, past the fish and livestock markets, to Al Maskoof, the great Iraqi restaurant in Sharjah City.  My favorite thing there is the tea, which led to this classic language misunderstanding: After eating shish tawook sandwiches, bread from Al Maskoof's tanoor oven, and hummus, and enjoying some tea of course, I asked for the "check."  The waiter said something like "for four?" and seemed surprised.  I nodded, and he promptly brought four more teas.  "Check" and "Shay" sound an awful lot alike.

Quick taxi ride into Dubai to the nearest Metro Station so we can jump on the train to the creek in Bur Dubai, where we rode the abras (only one dirham...about a quarter U.S.!), and walked through the old city, including even more souks.  It was hot, but we had a nice time.  Tony was generous enough to whip out his awesome new glass tea cups that night, when Rana and her daughter Majdoline came over to the apartment that night.  So cool to introduce folks from two different sides of the world.  That might be my favorite thing about family coming to visit the region when we're here.

Next morning, crack of dawn flight to Jordan for Steve, Tony, and me.  The Emirates are interesting, but there's nothing like the Levant (Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, and Palestine) for hospitality and, in that regard, our Jordan jaunt didn't disappoint.  Our driver, Alaa, took us to North Amman where my friend Dr. Rima was waiting.  I met Rima at a conference last year and we've kept in touch.  She and her husband Basel had stuffed zucchini and grape leaves, chicken, potatoes and salads, hummus and moutabel.  Best of all: the most amazing kanafeh I've had--not as syrupy as most, so the flavor of the cheese was dominant.  So good.  Catching up with a colleague and friend as excellent as Dr. Rima was a treat.  Her lunch put me to sleep much of the drive down to Petra.  We spent much of the evening swimming and snapping photos.

Next morning, we set off early for the old city.  Petra might be my favorite single place in the Mideast, and our drive made the great suggestion of starting well ahead of the crowds.  Visiting old Petra involves hiking.  Loads of hiking.  Surrounded by the ancient stone structures on every side of you, the first goal is to make it to the treasury, the facade made famous by the third Indiana Jones movie that was partially filmed there.  Our guide, Ali, was a cool bedouin gentleman who without irony said things like "people think you can't walk here," while pointing to a sign that says "do not walk here."  All the way to the treasury, he directed us to the best nooks and crannies of the ancient Nabatean city, full of caves, graves, sacrificial spots, and residential structures (everything made from Petra's red stone).  It's a lot of walking and worth every step.  Petra gives you one beautiful view after another.  The treasury affords a good resting spot where you can get some super sweet tea and chill out while taking the inevitable slew of pics.  As is customary, our guide left us after we reached the Roman Road, a promenade of temples and ruins from the brief period when the Roman Empire held hegemony.  So we climbed the approximately 900 steps up to the monastery, the other grand facade within Petra.  We took it slow but made it and Tony and I continued to explore paths and diversions while Steve rested.  We found some white knuckle views of the Tomb of Aaron (brother of Moses), the wadis (DEEP valleys), and the eerily named Sacrifice Point.  We came across an old man making tea who shared some with us (tea is a big deal in Jordan and delicious too), then listened to him play a flute.  Surreal.  Spent the whole day in Petra, wandering, climbing, playing, taking pictures.  Magical spot, no joke.  More swimming that night, this time to help the joints and muscles recover from the hiking.

Next morning, to Mt. Nebo, where Moses glimpsed the promised land.  The Byzantine church there is being remodeled by the Franciscans, but you can still enjoy the lovely views of Palestine and Israel.  It was clear so we could see Jerusalem and Jericho with no problem.  We then went to Bethany and the spot on the Jordan where John baptized Jesus.  Said a prayer, got in the water up to our knees, and was amazed at the lack of security, given how close Israel is (maybe 25 feet across the river is Jericho).  Luckily, the border here is peaceful unlike, say, Lebanon.  We drove to the Dead Sea, where I wanted Steve to have plenty of time to enjoy the spa-like amenities.  Tony and I wandered (common motif) and found a neat tavern of sorts that served arak, the Lebanese/Jordanian beverage that Tony wanted to sample.  Cool place with the traditional Arab seating (low benches covered with cushions along the walls of the place).  Bartender even sliced up a cucumber for us and squeezed some lemon over it.  We all hopped in the Dead Sea and floated.  We covered ourselves with the famous, therapeutic sea mud, but mostly we lounged poolside.  Steve got a dead sea mud facial (didn't make sense, to my anyway to pay for something that was free down by the water itself!) and a massage.  Couldn't have been more relaxing.

Next day we went back to Dr. Rima's for another amazing meal.  Big pieces of lamb shank, more hummus and salad and coffee and tea and baked goodies.  Highlight was most definitely Rima's kefta bil tahineh.  Meat baked in a "gravy" made from tahini, lemon, garlic, and salt, thinned with water.  Couldn't get enough of the stuff.  We were all hooked.  A great way to end our time in Jordan.


COMING UP...more revelry in the Emirates and then there were two

Entertaining

So much to say about the past two weeks!  Nephew Tony arrived and immediately got acclimated to Middle East life with his Aunt Nicole and Uncle Bill.  He joined me in my English 204 class on a day when students were workshopping essay drafts, observed the proceedings, and even chatted up a few students afterward.  We swam on campus and worked out (good way to recover from that long flight), and, not wanting to waste any time, went on desert safari his first day here.

The safaris are great fun, if somewhat corny.  You go out "dune bashing" in the middle of the desert.  That means, riding around in Land Rovers at ridiculous speeds and coming perilously close to flipping.  This is one of Nicole's favorite things to do in the Mideast, which is funny given how safety conscious she always is.  After dune bashing, the jeeps drop you off at a camp where you can enjoy bbq, camel rides, and sand skiing.  We did all of the above, aside from Nicole taking a pass on the camel.  Great pictures, but the sand killed our camera.  Rest in peace.  Did I mention how sandy the desert is in Dubai?  When the wind kicks up, you can barely see in front of you.  It's hell on camera lenses.

We kicked around Sharjah City the next day, taking in the Sheikh's special Egypt exhibit at the Art Museum in town and attending Heritage Days, a neat bedouin/emirati festival in the old section of the city.  Highlight (you know it's going to be food, right?) had to be the flat saj on which an emirati woman was making a very flat bread, almost like crepe.  She spread the batter on the hot surface for a minute, then cracked an egg on top and spread/scrambled the egg over the batter, then dropped a few dollops of yogurt and spread that over the now mostly scrambled egg.  Fold it up, and there you go.  Really delicious.

And then, my brother Steve arrived.  Since we had to go to Dubai to meet up with Steve, Tony and I left early and went to the Jumeirah Mosque, the only Mosque in town that welcomes non-Muslims.  They do an educational program there each morning (except for Fridays, the most important day of prayer) that's super informative.  Kind of an Islam 101, sponsored by the ruling families who want the many non-Muslims in the Emirates to have at least a sense of the faith.  With a little more knowledge than we had before, we headed to the airport and met up with Steve, who arrived safe, sound, and wanting Starbucks.


Coming up next: And then there were four (Nicole, Steve, Tony, yours truly)...