I'm so photogenic...

I've had a few people tell me that I should include some pictures of myself in the blog. Typically I'm the one taking the picture so that makes it hard for me to be in the picture at the same time. However, on a recent trip out of the house with my language instructor I got some pictures of myself. Here we go...

My language instructor decided it would be good for us to get out of the house and walk the city some while learning new vocabulary. I was more than happy to comply. We went to the market, some shops, and the Roman Amphitheater I mentioned a few blogs back. This time I actually went in the amphitheater to see the ruins. It was pretty amazing. This is where I took most of the pictures.



This first picture is of the view from the ground upon entering into the amphitheater. It's quite amazing that it's still standing a couple thousand years later.

This is me attempting to pose at the entrance.

This is Muhammad, my language instructor. He's about my age and can speak some English. He's a really neat guy. And he loved to pose for pictures.

There was even a museum located in the tunnels that ran underneath the Amphitheater. It had murals, artifacts and other archeological wonders on display. It was really neat. Some of these tile murals here were from 400 AD.

I even found some Bedouin ladies to talk to in the museum.


I caught these birds mid flight right as they peaked over the top of the amphitheater. It's very far to the top.


Muhammad enjoying the camera attention. I told you he liked to pose.


Muhammad had a blast taking pictures of everything in sight, which included me.


This was the last shot of the day. We had a policeman take it for us after which Muhammad saluted him jokingly. The policeman was not amused...

It was a nice day walking around the city, learning some history, and learning Arabic. I might have to convince him to take me on another field trip soon. Hah.

I'm sorry officer....I didn't know I couldn't do that.

I know, I didn't post once last week. Well, hopefully the lack of posting from last week will be made up by the blog entries I have for this week. I'll start us off with a somewhat crazy post for today.

Last Wednesday I was detained by the military. That’s right. It was the craziest thing. But I can’t just jump into it, I have to start earlier in the day. So….

I spent the majority of the day in a city about an hour away from where I live. I went with two other guys to visit some local Arab friends who live out in another city. The food and visiting with our friends went great and I hope to visit them again.

My two friends and I arrived back in our city a little before 8 PM. When we were dropped off I was only about a 30 minute walk from my house, and since the weather was nice and it was a pretty night I thought I would just walk home. Being that I like to take pictures, I immediately saw opportunities for a few cool night shots.

I walk for about 15 minutes, taking pictures of many random things, but mostly just the night life and traffic. I’m minding my own business just taking a picture when I hear someone yelling at me and coming towards me. At first I ignore it because there are lots of noises here that I just tend to ignore. Finally, I look up to see a guy decked out in military fatigues with a gun in hand standing over me. I knew instantly that this would be a long night.

This was the shot that got me detained.

He directs me to a little booth and I notice that I’m at the entrance of a military compound. (I felt so stupid for not noticing what I was standing by when I was taking the picture, but honestly I was just so focused on getting the shot that I failed to see the obvious. If I had noticed, I surely would’ve kept walking and not stopped to take a picture there.) At the booth I speak some Arabic, trying to explain that I was sorry and didn’t realize where I was. No dice. A higher ranking guy comes up and motions to me to follow him.

Somewhat nervous and a tad exasperated I follow. I try to explain to him that I will gladly show him the picture; that it was a simple shot of the traffic lights, and that I could just erase it and be on my way. He only responds, “No problem, do not worry.”

I’m taken inside and led to a room where ANOTHER higher ranking guy is sitting. There are military men of all types walking around. They motion for me to sit down. At this point I look around and take note of where I am. Imagine a dorm common room where people go to hang out and sit and watch TV. There are probably 6 people in the room including myself.

This is where the story becomes one of those “Shut up, did that really happen?” – stories. I sit down and am offered a glass of orange juice (which was amazing; it must’ve been fresh squeezed). It’s at this point that I start to think I don’t really have anything to fear, I mean I am sitting with a bunch of army guys who are lounging around watching soccer while I sip orange juice. Nevertheless, it took me some time to ease my fears. They begin to question me. I do my best to answer in my broken Arabic and this cuts a lot of the tension right away. They smile and laugh. I think they were pleased with my attempting to speak their language. Their English is rough, but good enough for me to get across who I am and what I was doing out on the street taking pictures.

(Cut to 45 minutes later) I am sitting at a table with one of the high ranking guys eating dinner and discussing life. I catch myself almost smiling at my change of fortune. After a while, they had realized that I was no threat and that I was genuinely just an American who liked to take pictures. That being sorted out, they became hospitable hosts welcoming me to their country.

The guy who I ate dinner with was extremely friendly and spoke good English. I became fast friends with him! After dinner, we sat back down and just hung out with 5 other army guys while they joked in Arabic and watched soccer. I even drank the Arabic coffee they put in front of me…. This was huge for me, I cannot stand even normal coffee and Arabic coffee nearly put me on my back, but somehow I got through it.

I finally muster the courage to ask if everything was okay. My new friend simply says “Yes, this is just friend time now.” I nearly laughed at the upfront way he said that. Apparently, I was just one of their group of friends hanging now. I asked if I could leave soon thereafter as it was getting late and I was told yes, they weren’t going to hold me. I was bid farewell with a smile from everyone in the room and then escorted out back to the street. I didn’t get home until well after 11, but at this point I was wired from all the caffeine. I still find it hard to believe that I had such good fortune. Not only was everything ok, but I was given the opportunity to make some great new contacts. Somebody up there must like me…. Haha.

Black Fingers

Today I went back to the police station to get my visa. I arrived with few expectations other than to be ready to wait. My expectations were met... I found the office at the police station was full of other people with passports and papers. There was one guard and one computer. Progress was slow going, but there was progress nonetheless.

Eventually, my passport was picked up by the guard. He began to ask me some questions; unfortunately for me, he spoke no English. Fortunately for me, there was a younger Arab woman in the office who spoke English. Apparently, at many of the universities here they have most of their classes in English, so her English was very good. She was a huge help to getting me through the whole process. The guard gave me a hard time about several things, but in the end he stamped my passport.

Before I could leave, he pressed my fingers in black ink and put my fingerprints on a form. At this point I had been in the office for over 2 hours, so I would've gladly given them whatever they wanted just so I could be done with it. Which reminds me, I didn't have to pay the extra fee because as it turns out I wasn't late. So fingerprints were nothing.

I'm just glad to have it taken care of. I won't have to worry about anymore visa junk for a few months. I hope that my next post will be a little more engaging. And as long as I don't write about more visa stuff, I don't think that'll be a problem in the slightest.

Getting the run around

So I knew beforehand that in this part of the world it is common for something simple to take days to accomplish. For example, getting a simple form stamped or checked or okayed through any sort of bureaucratic process will invariably take roughly 10 times longer to accomplish than in the States. That's not saying much since things in the US can take plenty long themselves; DMV anyone? That being said, at least in the US you kinda have an idea of when/if it's gonna get done. There's a consistency to the annoying waiting times. In the Middle East, I guess not.

Knowing this beforehand, and experiencing it firsthand are two different things. Today my visa expires. Knowing this I went to the big police station that I was told would renew my visa for another two months. (Crazy that I've been here for 1 month already!) I arrive at the police station with a friend and I'm asked where I live. My friend explains and then the guard looks at my passport and says "You must go to (such and such place). We cannot do your visa here." We know this to be specious since we both know several people who have had their visa renewed there. Rather than argue, we leave and head for the next police station.

We arrive there and are asked a few questions, after which they warily let us in. We find the office that "supposedly" issues visas and ask if they can help us. We chat for a few minutes, then we are told that the computers are down. Yes, the same computer that I'm pretty sure I just saw them using.... We are informed that we must come back - not tomorrow mind you, but Sunday. Three days after my visa expires at which point I will have to pay late penalties. I asked if there was any way they could do it now because I don't want to pay the penalty; I'm told by the guy behind the counter that I won't have to pay the late penalty. I would love that to be the case, but I seriously doubt that they will care on Sunday that I tried to get it renewed on Thursday. I probably will end up paying.

I wonder how often this happens simply because the people who are responsible for taking care of things like this don't want to deal with it. I think the mindset goes "I don't want to have to do this right now; I will push them onto the next person and he will take care of it." The problem arises when mulitple people do this in succession. Nothing gets done. Eventually someone has to reissue me my visa. I don't wanna be rude or culturally insensitive, but I really must insist that someone help me. If I don't get it done, in the eyes of the government the fault will lie with me and not its own people.

I'm not upset about it, just kinda curious as to how a lot of the world runs this way. I guess its my American mindset that wants things to get done relatively smoothly. I will play their game for the time being; like I said, at this point, I'm not upset or anything. I just don't want to be penalized for someone else's indolence.

To be continued on Sunday....

Cats like art too!

So, there’s this park not too far from my home that I’ve been to a few times. It’s not huge but it’s nice to go and sit amongst some trees and enjoy the great weather we’re having right now. I went there a few days back to edit some pictures on my computer for this very blog. While I was sitting there taking it all in, one of the city’s billion cats starts heading ominously towards.

I need to preface this a bit by saying that there is a large homeless kitty population here. This surprised me at first; in fact it’s the direct opposite of India. In India there were dogs roaming about in gang like numbers, and no cats to be seen or heard of. Here the cats are the wandering scoundrels, and the dogs don’t seem to exist at all. I think I may have seen a single dog since arriving nearly a month ago. Cats are everywhere: dumpsters, bushes, trashcans, alleys, dumpsters, streets, various other trash receptacles, and did I mention dumpsters? They can often be heard fighting and getting into general mischief during the night hours when it becomes quiet. They are usually pretty mangy and you would not want to take them home as pets.Anyway, this cat is heading towards me and I can tell already it’s taken a liking to something. The only thing I can think of is the bag of cookies I had with me. Naturally, I throw one to it about 10 ft away hoping to appease it, but no dice. It jumped on my bench and proceeded to get up in my business. This cat would not leave me alone. I felt kinda bad for it since it seemed he just wanted some attention. I’m not joking when I say I got up and moved to the next bench down only to find that the cat trotted over with me; I guess he figured I had found us a better spot. So, I thought I’d take some pictures of him while he was making himself available to me.

The pictures I was editing at the park were of the Art “Place” that I spoke about back in Purposefully Getting Lost. I suppose the cat could have just been interested in my art pictures...

"I'd like to see some art please."

I really don’t know how to describe the place other than it had some weird art of various types. It certainly wasn't a gallery. Whatever, I took pictures, and here they are.
This was the first piece of art I saw. It was interesting. Then I rounded the corner and saw this...

Does this not look like the bad guy from a horror movie?? It scared me. It still does.

Okay, so there were these ceramic grenades laid all over a table. That's art, didn't you know?

This was a room of clay people hanging from the ceiling. Again, creepy.

Close up of the clay people.


The last thing I came across was actually pretty neat. It was a pitch black room save for one light inside a rotating screen of stars and soldiers. I dunno what the artist was getting at, but I liked the room.

This is what the screen looked like.

That's it for today. Thanks to you all who wished me a happy birthday a few days back. I appreciate it. Truly.

Everyone is crazy

I have officially had my first conversation in Arabic with a taxi driver. Granted, I’m sure I sounded like a 3 year old babbling words who doesn’t truly understand what he’s saying, but even so I was very proud of myself and excited. Perhaps one of the funniest moments was the following exchange (all in Arabic):

Taxi Driver almost hits a guy running across a busy street, then proceeds to almost slam into a car and says “Crazy Man!”

I am startled, yet ecstatic that I understood that haha. So I tell him, “Yes, crazy. I understand you.”

Surprised that I spoke to him in Arabic he laughs, and I proudly smile, then he says, “There are too many cars in this city.”

Nearing my destination another car cuts us off and nearly side swipes us, causing the driver to exasperatingly declare, “EVERY one is crazy today!”

To which I say, “We are not crazy.”

And we laugh.

So there you go. That was about the extent of my hold on Arabic right there in that one conversation haha. Overall, I’m very pleased. I’ve only had 15 hours of language learning at this point and most of it has been nouns and other vocabulary. I won’t really be touching grammar until after the first 100 hours or so.

That’s not to say that I won’t be trying to learn some of it myself. I’m fortunate to have a friend in the city who lived here for a couple of years, a few years ago. He has a firm grasp of the language already and has been helping clarify things for me that get befuddled during class. I can’t tell you how great it’s been to be able to discuss with a NATIVE English speaker some of the more perplexing intricacies of the language. As with most native speakers of any language, my instructor fails to mention a lot of stuff that I would consider valuable information; I think this is because he doesn’t realize that certain “obvious” linguistic aspects aren’t so obvious to someone just starting out. But, he also might be leaving it out simply because he thinks these things are unimportant to my early language development. Either way, my desire to grasp the language makes me want to understand every detail. That’s why it’s nice to a friend who knows what I’m talking about!

I can’t think of a good picture to include with this post. I promise to make the next entry picture intensive to make up for it. Thank you all who have written me encouraging words and comments on my blog entries. It’s great to hear from you! Don’t be shy, and I promise not to be shy to reply to your comments. See you soon.

What'd you say?

On Sunday I officially started my Arabic language study. I think that sentence alone could suffice for explaining what my life has been like the past few days.

Arabic is a very interesting language, and so far my initial traipse into it has been fairly positive. It seems to me that structurally it is more similar to English than oh….say Greek. At least for now; we’ll see how I feel about all of this in a few weeks or months.

The most difficult part for me thus far has been forming and hearing the various sounds that we as English speakers either don’t use or don’t differentiate between. The hard “h” versus the “h” we use in English presents a challenge. Then there’s the “kh” sound which sounds like you’ve breathed too heavily while making a “k” sound. Oh and I’d be remiss if I forgot the “gh” sound which is similar to making a trilled “r” in the back of your throat.

That's an interesting one.

Enough of the linguistics lesson; I’ll tell a story from my first day of class. I’m sitting and listening to my nurturer (they aren’t called teachers…) point to pictures and say words again and again. After about two hours of this, he decides that it’s time for me to learn to speak. I was all for that. Unfortunately, the phrases he starts teaching me contain two different words that sound EXACTLY the same to me. I ask him to stop and say them back to back. I think he was messing with me cause it sounded like he just said the same word twice while telling me two different meanings. I laugh and say “I can’t hear a difference.” We spent the next 30 minutes on these two words and slowly separating out the sounds so that I could learn the difference. Believe me, the difference was/is minute.

I’m proud to say though, after 3 days of language, I’m beginning to recognize it. The majority of my learning at this point is just vocabulary and I imagine that I have close to 100 words by now.

These picture sheets show some of what I can either say or recognize. I’ll keep you informed as to my progress and assured blunders to come. Until next time…