The Reincarnation of Energy

When I write reincarnation, what I am referring to is the continuation of energy and spirit, beyond the mortal life cycle. Matter cannot be destroyed, and I do not believe that the energy that makes us ourselves can be either. This is the only explanation that makes sense to me right now, at this point in my life. I do not believe the energy that encompasses my spirit was started anew when I was. There are residues of history entangled in it. Reasons why this makes sense:

The People. 

You know the people that you meet, talk to for a half hour, and then it feels like you have known them forever? That you get them, and they get you, and no matter what role they end up playing in your life, that connection changes you, just a little bit, for the better. There is no logical reasoning behind this. It just happens. Some people you instantly click with, others you don’t.

The Places. 

There are places that call to the soul more than they should, more than other places do. For me, that is India. I have traveled to many states, Canada, the UAE, and India. Out of them, the two that make me want to just be there, live there, become a part of there are Vermont and India. Vermont makes some sense- I have lived here for the majority of my life. India, not so much. I have visited for two weeks. Yet I desperately want to go back, because in those two short weeks I learned so much and felt comfortable- mentally, spiritually, physically. And I don’t know why.

The Prospects.

I have been given so many amazing opportunities, been the recipient of so many acts of faith, of acceptance. I am surrounded by so many amazing people. I do not feel like I have done enough to deserve them.

Clearly, the energy that is a part of my legacy and life is doing something right.

<3

Home/Expatriate

This entry has been a long time in draft form, mainly because this is a topic that is difficult to convey through words on a computer screen- home is much more of a feeling for me than a physical place, and this post still can't quite capture how odd this train of thought is. (Odd is the wrong word, but I cannot find a more fitting descriptor). 

I have now been living in Abu Dhabi for three and a half months. My first semester of college is complete, papers are in, finals are finished, and now I am packing, cleaning, and writing, waiting for tomorrow when I will board the first leg of my journey home. (Update: I am posting this from VT. From home. The flight was very long, but uneventful.)

Home. The word has such a different meaning for me now. Sama Tower, NYUAD, Abu Dhabi – they are starting to feel like home for me.

All are ‘home’, but so are so many other places. Vermont, New Jersey, India, a campground in Pennsylvania- all of them are homes to varying degrees. 

And I wonder if that makes them less of a permanent home, but instead as stops on a journey, where I will gather more homes, more friends, and more lessons as I continue to travel. With the way I have chosen to lead my life, it very much seems to be the latter.

That is good in a way, but not so good in a way too. Because it causes the following situation to happen.

I cannot wait to go back to Vermont. But it feels nostalgic. I am travelling back to memories.  The memories physically exist in the present- I am still seeing my family, my friends, the old stompin’ grounds- but I realize now I cannot hold onto them. In a few short days I will be going back to Abu Dhabi, not to return to Vermont for an even longer time span. And that is the pattern my life is going to hold for the foreseeable future.

I am already an expatriate. Derived from the Latin. “Ex”- out of. “Patriate”-the homeland. My visa is a residence visa (albeit a student residence visa, but still). I am literally and legally living in a new country. That is still a concept I have difficulty wrapping my head around.

I worry about the distance. I worry about home turning into something distinctly not home- turning foreign. There is no way I can stop that transformation, and it is big, and scary, but it also feels resigned and almost exciting. Where I call home is in flux. I guess the best description of where I am now is my 'childhood home'- but that name feels wrong too, because it is still one of my active homes now, in the present. It is a home but not a home. Confusing stuff. 

But I guess that all of this a part of growing up and beginning to forge your own life. It just seems magnified when you choose a college halfway around the world.

<3

Musings

Death of a Salesman:

Atmosphere and energy is critical. Theater has never felt this spiritual to me.

The concentration of the actors

Their full transformation into the role,

How much they are willing to give to those around them- a heartbreaking honesty.

The energy of those surrounding me.

Good vibes and hugs and support.

Another family.

I somehow keep stumbling into these beautiful families that I am not worthy of.

The sacredness surrounding every step of the process.

The faith that was put in me

Mainly blind

To be blessed with the chance to be a part of this show.

The circle. The breathing. The energy. The connections.

The show itself, with the raw questions, usually hidden and avoided, that it forces on the audience with both harshness and tenderness.

Leaving them affected and in thought.

Connections. Humanity. Creation.

Rain:

We made it to the rain.

After the final show, at the cast party, someone looked to the window.

And there was a light rain. Niko and I looked in awe- as freshman, we had heard that it rained here, but had written it off as myth.

Weather doesn’t happen here.

It ranges from hot to hotter, with occasional fog.

Never rain.

There was rain, or the Abu Dhabi equivalent, that night.

So many were outside, faces uplifted to the mist.

And it was beautiful. 

<3

Femme Fatale

My excitement about this concert can only be really explained with a bit of backstory of me as a 7-11 year old girl.


I was a Britney Spears fan. All of my friends were. We would listen to her cassette tapes, learn the lyrics, and make up dances (I still remember dancing to "Crazy" on a dock by Lake Winnipesaukee). Her album "Baby One More Time" was my first ever CD. I had it both as a cassette, then a CD. Both are still in my room somewhere at home. I wasn't really into the other pop princesses of the time- Christina Aguilera's lyrics never got stuck in my head. I was a Britney fan.


I guess when we moved to VT is when my music interests started to shift, and the last album of hers I bought was "Britney". So I knew her songs up to "I'm Not a Girl".


Generally I avoid tabloids, so while I knew she wasn't in the best place, I never had the voyeuristic urge to find out about her life, because honestly, beyond not really caring about celebrities, I didn't want to have to see a new reality of her than I had in my childhood. I lost track of her, and her music.


And now that brings us to the present, 19 year old me. Many of my classmates entered a drawing for the Britney Spears concert after the Yasalam races. And most of them won 2 tickets. I did not enter, but I knew a lot of people who did, and Laura gave me her extra ticket :)


The concert was good. I won't say it was great- it took her a while to get into the songs (as the songs went further back in her repertoire, they got better, even if the lip-synching was slightly off), and in the beginning she looked fairly run down, which is understandable. My bias toward the earlier songs might also be because I could sing along to them at the top of my lungs. 


But it was music. It was bass heavy, beating in your chest, danceable, high decibel music. I love it when music consumes so many of your senses- touch, hearing, sight, people, that it is all you feel. All you think. 


And it was Britney Spears. Growing up in that generation, this concert fulfilled one of my childhood dreams.  


<3


(To those of you wondering- I would say this is the same concert on tour all around. I don't think it was changed at all for being in the UAE, outfit/lyric/dance wise)

"And sometimes remembering will lead to a story, which makes it forever. That's what stories are for. Stories are for joining the past to the future. Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember except the story." 
~Tim O'Brien

A Series of Events

Whether they were unfortunate or fortunate depends on who you asked, when.

*Disclaimer: I have learned my lesson. I will plan more thoroughly in the future. It is safe to travel with me. Do not condemn me as a traveling companion due to this post please :) And besides, everyone needs a trip like this at least once.

The second leg of my travels involved flying into Muscat, Oman. But before that could happen, I needed to say goodbye to Laura as she headed back to Sama Tower, and meet up with Sachi, my fellow NYUAD Vermonter. This coordination was interesting. I had booked tickets from Dubai to Muscat, but in reality, I booked a bus from Dubai to Abu Dhabi, then a flight to Muscat. So I hung around Dubai Marina Mall for about 3 hours until that bus came (and I got onto an earlier one). I checked into the flight, got through security in under a half-hour, and was waiting at the gate for Sachi, who was coming from Sama to the airport once we figured out the flight was from Abu Dhabi. Now, she took a bus. Which don't run as often at night. Boarding for the flight was supposed to start at 1.45 (AM. I have been awake for a very long time, with only some naps, by this point. Story of the trip). 1.45 shows up, luckily they haven't started boarding, but there was also no sign of Sachi. We were both panicking a bit at this point, but just as they start boarding, she arrives.

The flight was smooth and short. But we should have taken some of the earlier things as signs (like the fact our tickets took forever to book because of the website being down, our confusion, and the almost being late to the plane).

Arriving in Muscat, we thought our visas would be 5 Rials because we are UAE residents, which is a GCC country. But they are student visas. Which apparently don't count. We probably could have argued it, but it was 4AM. Neither of us had enough sleep. And it was 4AM. So they cost 20 Rials instead. Which is a lot. Cue massive re-planning. This plan will be elaborated on once we actually get to the taxi.

After withdrawing more cash, we went out to the taxi stand. I knew what hotel we were going to, but we thought that check-in wasn't until noon (well in reality that was check out time, but again, we didn't know that yet.) And I knew where the hotel was- along the Muttrah Corniche. But that was not listed in the places for the taxis. There was an Intercontinental listed as corniche, so we decided to go there. In that journey, we decided we would only stay at the hotel 1 night, and try to move our plane tickets (which were for 10.50AM two days later), to earlier in that same night, eliminating the second planned night at the hotel.

We got to the Intercontinental, and asked them where Naseem Hotel and the Muttrah Corniche were, and how to walk there. They started laughing at us and said we wouldn't be able to walk there, unless we wanted to take 5 hours. They offered us a taxi, but we declined.

Wandering around the Intercontinental, we found the beach. It is now about 4.30AM. Lacking anything better to do at this time, we sat down, and then ended up napping on the beach. (Also, I would like to note that this is actually the most exciting part of our trip, story wise- sleeping on a beach in Oman at 4AM).

I did not have socks with me. I regret that now, and they will be something I always pack while traveling, because I have over 50 bug bites on my feet right now. (Side note- you cannot find Benadryl in the UAE, but you can find equivalents).

But there were stars. So many stars in the sky <3

After sleeping on the beach until around 5.30-6ish, we began to walk. We watched the sun rise over the mountains, and began to notice how much friendlier people are in Oman.

Since we didn't really have a set plan at this point, we just kept walking.

We walked from A (Intercontinental) to B (Crowne Plaza). Here is the maps scale. 

Then at Crowne Plaza Hotel it was determined that it really was too far away to walk to Naseem Hotel. 

So after finding out that the "Rock Bottom" Cafe did not have rock bottom prices, we went to the beach by Crowne Plaza. Sachi had thought ahead and had brought 2 apples and a muffin. Which was our breakfast and lunch. 

During this beach sitting (around 8AM), we called Etihad and changed my flight, but then we realized that we were down to 17Dh of credit on my phone, and none on Sachi's. So her flight remained where it was (we tried calling later, but she couldn't get through, but when I get to the airport part of this story, you will see how it all turned out ok- Etihad Airways are AMAZING. I recommend them 200%). We also called Krushika, a fellow NYUADer who was home in Muscat for Eid, and made plans to meet up with her later. 

Once again, lacking any real plan, we began walking again. In the above map, if you see Al Qurm street and follow that off of the map, that is where we walked to. Our attempt (because by this point we had a map), was to go to the souks there. During our walk we found a little foodstuffs store that was open (the first we had seen), and we got water. Which was a Good Thing, seeing as we had been walking in the sun for quite a while now. And then when we finally decided to ask someone where the souk was, they gave us the very useful insight that because it was Nov 6, which was Eid itself, everything was closed. Good to know. 

Also, by this point, in my brain, I was very very worried that Sachi had regretted going on this trip. Because in all honesty, if the situation were reversed, I might wondering why the heck I decided to join this crazy adventure. But soon the story begins to turn!

We decide to get a cab to Old Muscat, and on the way we pass our hotel. So it is confirmed that it exists, we know where it is, and that we can get back to it. But everything in Old Muscat is of course closed as well. We commence to take lots of pretty pictures, and almost go up a back staircase in a still-active military fort. Because even though they were built centuries ago, they are still in use by the police. As we got told by the guy in uniform with a rifle. Oops. 

But no harm, no foul. It is now 11ish, and after taking photos of the palace (also still in use), we went to the hotel. This is where things start to get better. We checked in, and slept for a few hours. 

Then we ventured out to try and find food. The bakery was closed, but as we walked along the corniche, we noticed that some of the coffee shops were opening. And then we walked through the Muttrah Souq, and emerged into more of the residential area of the city, where we found cheap (and really good) samosas. We bought enough to have lunch the next day, because with the way the trip was going, who knew where we would be? Also found sweets, and brought them back to the corniche wall and had a late lunch/snack. 

By this point, Sachi no longer regretted coming along, and we were starting to figure things out. 

We went to dinner with Krushika and her friend, right around where we slept that morning. It was a really good time for many reasons. It is so nice to see people at home- they have a different level of comfort about them, and a different type of happiness. We also learned more about the sultan, who is very tolerant and a good leader. Walked across a wadi for when it rains (which we missed- both in Oman and it rained in the UAE. While we weren't there.), and then we wandered with them a bit. Krushika's parents were so amazing when they picked all of us up- they drove us back to our hotel. It was very appreciated, and once again, it is really nice to see my classmates with family, because they are different in a more real way. You get to see another side of people. 

Then we made one more venture out to get more water, and then we slept. 

It seems like it was a long day. It felt like a long day. That is because it was. But then it was day 2!

We got breakfast at the hotel because it was cheap and good. Then I had the roomiest shower in the past 10 weeks (my dorm room has a small square shower. Naseem Hotel had a tub). 

I highly recommend that hotel if you are ever in Muscat. Just tell the taxi Muttrah Corniche, and it is on the right of the roundabout. Cheap and safe, with beds and hot water. Also, a general note on traveling in Oman- barter for the cab price. We realized after we got back that basically we got ripped off on every cab fare, but it was at least consistent. (One way we knew this was how we were able to barter with the driver on the way to the airport (End of Day 2), because we literally only had 10 Rials). 

We went back to the forts, took more touristy pictures, and then we went to find a museum. (Which was open, because it is now the second day of Eid). We ended up in a residential area, where Sachi climbed partway up a mountain. While she was doing that, I was watching the bags and hoping the police wouldn't drive by (it was one of those places that isn't forbidden, but that doesn't mean you are supposed to be there). We were drawing quite the crowd, but it showed me again how much more open Omanis are- they were saying hi, and I found out I can't pass as living in Abu Dhabi. Also the taxi drivers would point out landmarks as we drove, which doesn't happen in the UAE. 

I loved the Heritage Museum. I am living in the Middle East, but still know very little about the culture and history, and going here gave me some good insights into Oman and the culture of the area in general. 

We had lunch there, with our leftover samosas and sweets and this:

Now, if I ran into this in the US, I might be a bit weirded out. It is basically juice with lots and lots of pulp and bits of fruit. I have never had anything like it, and I don't know if it was just the heat and slight dehydration I think I was nursing this entire trip, but it was really, really good. 

Also on this trip we kept getting asked where things were by other tourists. So I guess we looked like we  might not be complete tourists (and both times it was about the Intercontinental).

Went back to the souq, bartered for shirts, and I got a charm. Then we went and sat by the water, just relaxing. We decided to walk along the corniche. Saw a half sunk boat, and then we ran across some stairs. Again with the stairs which we may or may not have been supposed to climb. As we jumped the gap to get to them, we ran into another group of travelers who all wanted pictures with us. So there are pictures somewhere of us looking bewildered. Very bewildered. 

We then scaled the rocks, climbed the stairs, and discovered this was not an active fort. It was not even a tourist fort. There was a vertical gap to the door too high to safely cross. So we just took some pictures, continued walking, found a closed art gallery, and then sat on some Arabic-graffitied benches. 

Kept wandering, and then we found a park! With actual grass! We laid there for a while. I miss actual ground and sky and mountains- Oman gave me a nice dose of all of those :)

Then we found another fort tower, not off limits, but not necessarily open (notice a pattern?). Climbing that, we discovered that the tower itself only had half a floor remaining- you could see the ocean through it. It makes you think of time and history and ruin and preservation. It is one of the images I hope to remember for a long while.

The sunset was gorgeous. We had a fawakesh special (lots of fresh juices, and ice cream, and fruit), and then just sat on the wall looking at the water and the lights and the people. 

What we decided to do about flights is just get to the airport early and hopefully change Sachi's flight to the 5.30AM one mine had been changed too. But then there was an 11.35PM flight. It was really full, so we had to wait on standby, but the Etihad staff are amazing. They got us both on the flight, and waived the fees. Once again, Etihad 200%. 

Attempted to have an Arabic conversation with the visa guy (well, actually he attempted to have one with me. I remembered the basic words, but couldn't remember how to say what I studied in university). And then we got back into the UAE, took a bus, and got back to home sweet- Sama- home. 

But quoting him, I will visit Oman again, inshallah. 

I don't regret this trip at all. It was an adventure of the best (if slightly trying) kind. And it is hard to convey how awesome the trip was to people when we begin telling stories, because it sounds like everything went wrong. But it didn't. It went differently. Which isn't bad.

And as cliche as this sounds, I learned a lot about myself- how I travel, and how adventurous I can actually be. Seizing the moments :) I will plan more in the future, but it will be things about hours, and locations, and cab fares, and flight times. 

As for the random wanderings? They will always be some of the best moments, where you begin to see the city behind the facade. 

Safe travels all.

<3

Living

This is the first of 2 posts about my Oman travels, because in reality, they were 2 completely different trips.

After getting a full nights sleep for the first time in forever, my friend Laura and I ventured to the Abu Dhabi bus station. There was a bit of confusion, but we eventually got waved into the women/family line (which was so short compared to the other line that I didn't see it at first). Got on our bus only a little later than planned, but we were off to Dubai! (Which is not the same as Abu Dhabi. Just saying).

That night we recaptured small bits of normalcy that have been missing at NYUAD. We got fruit (which is hard to find and really expensive here), and then watched the news and part of Monsters Inc. It is striking how similar hotels are everywhere (but appreciated).

The next morning as we checked out of the hotel, we discovered that apparently I am a male Russian national on the receipt for the room. In the US I might expect the male part, if judged only on the name, but we checked in in person. And they looked at our passports. Neither of which were masculine, or Russian.

Then we went to the other hotel for the pickup for the dhow cruise. Driving into Oman, it was startling how much the landscape changes in 2 hours. It went from flat, deserted desert to mountains and sand and shrubberies. (Ni jokes were made).

Crossing the border was as easy as showing our UAE residence visas (which amused the guards on both sides). And then: the dhow cruise.

I haven't sorted through all of my pictures yet, so those will be added in (hopefully) within the next few days.

We got onto the boat and claimed our spot. There were people, but it wasn't super crowded. Soon after, we set off, content to sit and look over the ocean and mountains, the breeze off the water hitting our upturned faces.

On the trip out to the spot we would anchor, the guide/leader/I don't really know what his title would be, but he made sure everyone was having fun and had everything they needed, put on the radio. What sounded to be an Arabic Riverdance song came on. And he knew the steps. And began pulling people up to dance with him. Of course, we had to :) It was one of those "I don't know how I got here, but it is amazing to be living this life" moments.

A pause for my reflections on the overall day (and the past 10 weeks in general):

I am still bewildered by all of this. I still don't know how I got here. I can pinpoint series of causes and events which seem to have set me on this path, but I cannot say any of them for certain. This quote basically sums up this uncertainty: "Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?"- Garth Nix. I don't think I will ever fully know, or be able to fully comprehend all of this. What I do know is that I am incredibly blessed in my life, both with the opportunities I have been given, and with the wonderful people that I am surrounded by, wherever I am. I am trying to be in the moment, to try to live in a way that gives back good like the good I have received.

I think I must be doing something right, and I know I am living it right.

Now, back to the boat! After finally realizing how nice it is to just sit, relax, and be, the boat anchored a bit off a beach. We had the opportunity to go snorkeling, jump off the boat, go to the beach, and just swim.

We started by snorkeling. After a few tries to get the masks to fit right, we swam over to the rocks by the shore (this will make more sense with pictures), and began to snorkel. There were so many fish! And they were neon, and multi-colored, and striped, and awesome.

Then we jumped off of the boat. Because, well, you have to. :) I almost didn't, because I don't love heights. But one way I am trying to live my life differently is to not let myself get in my own way. So I looked, saw the distance, and still leaped into the beautiful water.

After some time we had lunch, which was an odd mix of Arabic, Indian, and American BBQ. Then we went back to shore, and back to Dubai.

It was a breathtaking day.

Part 2 of my Oman adventures will be continued in the next post.

<3