Five (Of My Favorite) Ways CLS Students Would Recommend to Learn Arabic

1- For practice writing Arabic, translate English pop songs into Arabic (for starters, TikTok by Kesha is a pretty fun one).

2- To speed up your reading and comprehension, read the Arabic crawl at the bottom of the screen on Al Jazeera news channel (this also encourages people to actually pay attention to television journalism!).

3- For listening practice, listen to Arabic movies. An anecdote: Arab movies are quite possibly the most dramatic, but funny movies. The story lines aren't always believable, and the actors aren't necessarily good looking either. Guaranteed entertainment.

4- To perfect your pronunciation, take private singing lessons! Naturally. Singing in classical Arabic is a lot of fun, and most singers use intonation.

5- To improve your Arabic overall, just be as sarcastic as possible. Arabs might not understand you, but it really tests your knowledge of the true meaning of words.

Through the Eyes of a 20-year-old American Accustomed to the College Way of Dating

I am now into my third week of classes, so I feel I can explain a little more on the Omani culture, which I've been dying to share with y'all.

First of all, I came into Oman having one basis for comparison: Cairo.

I should have thrown that out of the window the first day.

In American terms, Cairo is the equivalent of New York -- restaurants around every corner, everything within walking distance. Muscat is about like Dallas, wonderful, clean, but very spreadout. Cairo is a giant ball of energy; there is always someone yelling beside you, a bike zooming past you, or a guy whistling at you hoping to make eye contact (this is not to say that I miss that). In Muscat, people are very polite, calm, and easy-going. There's nothing to be angry about here. The economy is good, your neighbors are nice, and the terms Sunni and Shi'a are virtually irrelevant (most are Ibadi anyway).

I came to Muscat after being in New York for 9 days. Not long, but enough to light a fire under me and speed up my pace. That being said, my first impression of Oman was not all that great. Many of the women here are very conservative in their actions. This may seem obvious, but for me it was a little more of an adjustment. For example, it's not all that common for women to go out at night. And, if a woman is by herself at all, this is very strange. Smoking sheesha (hooka) is pretty widely prohibited in conservative families, and personal interaction between genders is not common. Women don't shake men's hands unless approached by the man first. And, as I figured out the hard way, it's not appropriate to ask a man his age, because it makes you seem interested (I can see that happening in American culture as well).

So, that's the facade at least. A little exploration has led to a world of questions. There is an obvious difference between youth that has studied in Western cultures, like the UK or America, and their purely Omani counterparts, that have not left the country for school. I'm lucky to have made a few friends in both situations. A guy friend that studied in the UK will open up about typical college pressures and the dating scene in Oman, which is something I'm dying to know more about.

Our teachers or more conservative peer facilitators tell us that the father of the family chooses a suitor for his daughter, and she either accepts or rejects the guy (in theory). What happens more often is that rejection is not too common, and the daughter must try to remain close to her father growing up so that he chooses an acceptable suitor. The two families will usually have outings together so the young ones will (hopefully) get to know each other and like each other.

My guy friend, on the other hand, took us to dinner one night at a cafe on Sharea'a Al Hob, which literally means 'love street.' He joked and said, "This is where you bring dates." I don't know if too many 'dates' occur there, but its definitely a hot spot for young adults at night.

*Side note: The gulf/Emirates' way of showing of money is in ridiculous cars. Oman doesn't even have a public transportation system, but does have Aston Martin and Porshe dealerships.*

So, the young males zoom down this straight road, which is actually a bridge over some marshland leading into the gulf, revving their Lamborghinis, Range Rovers, Jaguars, and Rolls Royces (no joke).  Lexuses and BMWs are also common, but only the extremely tricked-out kind. This is all very funny to watch, because the ultimate contradiction is personified: the technology behind cars and BBM contrasted with the traditional dress of the dishdasha (white nightie) and kumma (little hand-woven cap) or turban.

And, following their gender roles, the girls go out in groups in beautifully Swarovski-Crystal embellished abiyas (the black cloak) and matching hijabs (scarf around the head). Their make up reminds me slightly of Lady Gaga... bright pink matte lipstick, thick black eyeliner winged to the sides of their cheeks, and mean but perfectly trimmed and defined brows that could kill someone.

And, that's about it. No interaction, no body language. No small talk, no pick-up lines. No sharing sheesha, no giggling.

It baffles me.

I'm still waiting to figure out exactly what an Omani date is, if they even occur.

Bless their hearts, Omanis and their hospitality

You might never guess, but one part of Omani culture really reminds me of the South - the hospitality and their treatment of guests (Alhamdulillah).

My Omani colloquial dialect teacher Rehma is the epitome of ettiquette. I think she opens up a little more to my class, because it's just five girls, but boy is she sassy. I was very thankful when she went through the polite way to greet, introduce, and gather in an Omani's home. If you are invited to an Omani's home, you bring always bring a small happy, usually sweets or Omani Haluwa (their own sweet desert, basically gelatin made from dates, a lot of sugar, and nuts). You leave it at the door, as not to be noticed. You also take off your shoes, wait to be invited in, shown where to sit. There is traditionally a men's sitting room and women's sitting room in Omani houses. Pretty nice way of keeping bro-time and girl talk separated.

But, here's where it gets oddly comparable. The typical afternoon hello, as compared to the South:

Oman: The Omani family greets you, asks about everything in your life, then offers you coffee and dates. You say 'no, thank you' for the first couple of times.

the South: You're stop by a friend's in the afternoon. You're offered a coke, or if they start early, a drink. You're really thirsty from it being so hot out, but you don't want to impose.

Oman: The third time they ask, they insist, because otherwise 'they have to finish it all.' So then, you begin to eat. You can't refuse at this point. Then they'll offer you seconds. Once again, you NEVER refuse. Then comes thirds. And so on. Basically, even if you're full, there is no getting out of it. Just keeping eating.

the South: They offer you a drink again. You say, "Well, are you sure?" And right away they shuffle off to whip something up, and come out with a cheese and cracker tray along with your drink. Then you sit down and begin to catch up, and as soon as your drink is low, you're filled right back up.

Also, I have paid for an Omani's meal maybe once. As long as I am an American in Oman, 'I am a guest,' and I am completely taken care of.  Men will often pay for the whole table's meal, and we've even had Iranians from a completely different table offer to pay for our meal at a very nice restaurant, all because we were guests.

How I Uncovered the Secret Behind the Veil

Caution: Some blanket statements.

Americans, Westerners alike are enthralled with, bewildered by, and abhorred at Middle Eastern Muslim women's conservative dress. Why would someone ever want to cover their hair, face, entire body from sight? From daylight even?

Westerners argue that women lose identity, lose the freedom of expression by being (indirectly) forced into wearing what has become a cultural icon, synonymous (to Westerners) with the oppression of women and simultaneous death to any entertainment of sensual thoughts - the veil, hijab, or one of its various names.

Quick interjection: I don't actually have anything against a veil or hijab, I sometimes even prefer to wear it in Oman. We'll save that explanation for a rainy day.

I think what really gets us is the mystery behind the veil. Americans love transparency, openness, and information. A veil represents, or even acts as, the polar opposite. We think that behind the veil a Muslim woman might have something to hide. We're curious - what does her hair really look like? Does she have a pretty smile? Her hair must be very thick, long, and luscious to fill out that scarf! How does she eat when her mouth is covered?

Well, I can now answer one of those questions. In Oman, I have especially noticed the size of women's heads underneath the hijab. The hijabs here are intricately decorated and so, so beautiful; I would almost call some of them a headdress. The proportion of the head and (assumed) bun underneath are grand compared to the petite women under the cloak. It makes for a very feminine silhouette.

Back to the bun. All along, I have just (in my head) been thinking, 'the women just must have really thick, big hair -- kind of like Texans'. Completely normal comparison, especially after admiring Kalee Bodey's hair for three years now. I mean, their hair must be shampoo-commercial gorgeous underneath there. I picture the Lebanese movie stars, or Egyptian pop singers.

Well, today I unveiled one of the best kept secrets of the Muslim world. The sky-high crown is not actually their own! Like the God-forsaken Americans that ordered "Bump Its," Muslim women attach a hair piece, much like a bath loofa, to their buns, and then wrap their heads, creating the headdress.

....And I thought we were high maintenance.

As a wise man, Damian from Mean Girls, once said:
"That's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets!"

More secrets to come, Insha'Allah.

the *new* me (well, kinda)

This post has nothing to do with my studies or the Middle East.

It's something a little more personal.

I have always wanted to be able to cook. I am usually pretty creative, whether it be painting or just using a hot glue gun, but letting my creativity come out in cooking, or even preparing food, is at the very least extremely intimidating. In my mind, I can, and always will, mess something up -- between measuring oil, tasting the food, the physics of boiling water, the colors of something cooked, the art of seasoning, having control over knives... I'm already getting goosebumps. Luckily, I will have lived *on-campus* all four years of undergrad, therefore I haven't even had a kitchen of my own to entertain these fears.

So... I'm tackling them now.

And it's so much fun!

Of course, I'm taking baby, baby steps. We're talking right out of the womb. But, thanks to my first kitchen (minus an oven - but the stove is sufficing), and my roommate Lili who loves to cook and experiment, I am being introduced to a whole new world. 

The first step, which I'm still working on, is making the grocery list. Why would I ever know what I need to eat or drink (besides Diet Coke) when every meal is prepared for me at the sorority house or at the Student Union? I'm also not big on spending extra money, so I stick to what's already provided -- Miss Annie's and Miss Martha's amazing cooking and a meal plan. 

Jump forward to Oman: My first grocery trip was a disaster, on top of the added obstacles of being in a foreign country, in the market on Friday when every Omani and their entire tribe goes, which also means constantly avoiding harassment and staring, as well as navigating through LuLu, a store twice the size of the average Wal*Mart Supercenter where aisles aren't exactly arranged in the most logical way. For example, Tang has nearly an entire aisle dedicated to its many flavors of powder, rice has an entire aisle, and so do mangoes. 

Anyway, I ended up with Special K, Nutella, a loaf of bread, and Diet Coke. The absolute necessities. But, nothing to cook for dinner, etc.

Since then, Lili has been making every sort of pasta, sauce, and vegetable known to my feeble brain. So, today, on my second pilgrimage to LuLu, I tackled the produce section. I bought lemons, limes, apples, grapes, avocados, tomatoes, garlic, cantaloupe, pineapple, and onion. This took me quite awhile, but I am still feeling pretty accomplished.

And, I have now reaped the seeds of my labor (metaphorically speaking, because it was more fun than anything). I made some simple guacamole, a fruit salad (maybe salad is a euphemism for just mixed fruit), and (real) strawberry lemonade for the first time ever. 

Lili showed me up with some delicious butter cream icing. She was craving cupcakes all day, so she satisfied it in the best way possible, considering we don't have an oven.

So, here's what I've checked off my list:

-using a sharp knife and cutting board

-slicing and dicing fruit (some of it kind of difficult)

-eye-balling measurements (no measuring cups)

-breaking away from a recipe (guacamole only, but still)

-mixing

-tasting and adding (learned a tricky lesson from this - add less than you think you'll need... you can keep adding, but not always take away, hence the extra tomato in the guacamole)

From here on out, Lili and I are going to attempt one new cooking project each week. I have a couple simple ideas, but this is where I was hoping all *four* of you readers would come in. 

Any suggestions?

The Many Uses of a Turban

This week, Sheik Khalfan Al-Esry (google him!) spoke to our group. More like satisfied our American curiosity of the Middle East and cultural differences, all in a pretty hilarious fashion. I'll be posting more from his lecture, but this was by far the most interesting.


Omani men dress very traditionally, even on a daily basis. They wear a dishdasha (the nightee, white dress-looking thing), a kumma (a little hand-woven patterned cap), and sometimes, a turban around the cap (I can't remember the specific name for the turban).


Sheik Khalfan, or Sheik "Have Fun" as he called himself, went into the history and uses of the turban. Some made sense... anyway, a tentative list of a turban's uses:


1) Unwind it, and keep the wind and dirt out of your face -- you can still see through it!
2) The lazy way to make your kumma more formal
3) Unfold it, use it as a tent or blanket in the desert; just use your walking stick or sword as the post, of course
4) Use the tassels on the end as floss for your teeth (after BBQ, which he loves)
5) Put it across two camels to make a shade
6) Prayer rug
7) Tie several together as a rope to send a bucket into a well
8) Wrap someone who has deceased (a Muslim tradition)
9) Keep your kids entertained with it

weekEND

Well, it's about 2AM here, and I made the mistake of drinking coffee at 9PM.... so I'm wide awake.  We start class again tomorrow -- the weekends here are Thursdays and Fridays, Friday being the prayer day. I can't believe it's already one week down, seven more to go. I have a feeling things are going to be kicked up a notch pretty soon...

I've already gotten used to the heat and humidity. Of course, I'm one of the fortunate ones that didn't have much adjusting to do coming from Mississippi. But, it's a different kind of heat here. It literally feels like you've stepped foot inside a sauna -- raw heat without any sort of smell, no breeze, and a slight dampness that makes your hands instantaneously sticky; the type where you're really glad you're wearing cotton. My sunglasses fog up within three seconds.

That's what made the beach so great this weekend.  Thursday morning, Candace (one of my roommates) and two Omani friends and I went to the Oman Diving Center. We missed the activities for the day, which were dolphin watching, snorkeling, diving, etc., but we swam for awhile which was just as satisfying (however, I WILL go dolphin watching soon). The diving center is tucked away in a small cove, about a ten minute drive from the mountains.

The cool thing about Muscat is that the city is 45 km long, but only 4km wide. Everything is along the coast.  And, just behind those 4km of development, is a gorgeous mountain range.  The rock is the color of the Sahara, and in this cove, it slides into the sea. The water is a beautiful turquoise, and is shallow for quite some distance.  The sand heats up like a skillet.... literally. Within two seconds of taking our shoes off, we were sprinting like madmen for the water. It was even difficult to stand still long enough to take a picture.

Needless to say, I love it here!

First Thoughts on Oman (Oh-man)

So, it's been less than 24 hours since we landed in Muscat, and I'm already loving it. Last night was one of the most humid - my hands were nearly wet from being outside for ten minutes. Apparently the average daily high is 115F... thank goodness I was inside most of the day today.

Muscat is about 4km wide and 45km long, just like any beach town in America. We are staying in Midan Hotel, which is around 800m the coast (I apologize for the metric system - it's what the rest of the world insists on running by). I have three sweet-as-can-be roommates: Lili who goes to Kenyon College, Candace who will start grad school at Columbia in the Fall, and Zan (short for Alexandra) Pomona College. We share what is basically an apartment, which is so nice, way more than I would have ever expected. It's my first time to have a kitchen in college, after every year on campus!

We haven't had too much interaction with actual Omanis, but Oman is such a huge change from Cairo last summer. Cairo=New York; Muscat=Santa Barbara. It is absolutely beautiful, very clean, and much better off than its other Middle Eastern counterparts.

I had my first Omani hypermarket experience tonight... talk about crazy. "Lu Lu's," as it's called, is like a much nicer souq, with all shapes, sizes, and colors of people reaching for the same items simultaneously on the shelves. It's also much more comprehensive than Wal*Mart; you can find anything there, including designer watches. People just eat the produce from the baskets then walk off... quite amusing.

A few of us made our first trip to the beach tonight. It is like bath water, in concurrence with the 91 degree air. The smell of salt rises to your nose about 10 feet before the water. The sand is not white, but we were just right off the street. I snuck a dip in my bathing suit, because I'm not too sure how many more times I'll get to go in the water without being completely covered.

We have our first day of Omani dialect class tomorrow. I feel like I've already been here for three days.

I'll be posting more stories soon :)