Three Cheers...

...to Darren for making me almost cry with laughter this morning. (For some attempt at background, see here.)

I hope that's not one of my pictures...

And We're Back

We’re back at our original hotel, finally, and should be here for the remainder of…well, of the project, really. We’re back in our same rooms, which gives a sense of consistency. I mean, I’m sure that all the rooms probably look basically the same, but there’s still something about having the same room – now I just need to bring a few things back with me to make it homey for my next stretch here. According to CNN World Weather, I guess the East Coast is covered in snow? I realize that the “winter wonderland-ness” of it all is probably not at the forefront of the minds of those who have to deal with the DC panic that follows the announcement of any amount of snowfall. The kind of panic that results in nightmarish traffic and means that the grocery stores immediately run out of milk, bread, and toilet paper. Now really, people - does snow have some kind of laxative effect of which I’m not aware? Back to my original thoughts, though, I’m quite excited to get home and have some snow and winter weather. With the exception of my week in Paris, it’s basically been summer for me since May, so I’m up for a change. I missed fall, which is a bummer because it’s my favorite season, and there’s just something about walking up the walkway to my parents’ house, when the air is crisp and cold, and I can smell the smoke from the wood-burning stove, that always makes me relax and feel some warm fuzzies. I think that it goes back to being in college, and knowing that smell meant that I could just chill out – whether it was because I was home for a few days at Thanksgiving, or for several weeks at Christmas. So I’m looking forward to getting back to it. But for now…work, work, and more work.

Spinning

It’s Thursday morning (we work a half day on Thursday and have Friday off, working over the Western weekend), I’ve had meetings practically all morning, and my head is positively spinning with the sheer volume of stuff I have to get done in the few days I have left. When really, all I want to be thinking about is “ooh! I’ll be home in a week!” Ah well – the things that come with trying to actually “be responsible” and “do my job” and all of that silliness… But I will *definitely* need to start sleeping better if I’m going to keep this up.

Apparently, we are not being moved back to the first hotel today as I’d thought – we’re moving to suites within the same place, as an apology for all the inconvenience. It’s funny to watch them with TL, because he’ll say something that I think could be a bit offsides, and then he’ll laugh, smile, and shake their hand or hug them or something. Because that, clearly, makes it all okay…

So, I am now ensconced in my suite, which isn’t actually that much bigger than the old room, but it’s divided more clearly into rooms, so I suppose that’s the difference. My favorite part is the light switch that will turn one light off, while simultaneously turning another one on. The sunrise is pretty tough to miss from here, and makes for a nice view (if you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can see more details...). We went out on the balcony surrounding the hotel (not the super-scary one that looks right over the edge, but pretty close), and it’s also quite the impressive view. That’s the thing about being just about anywhere in Taiz – there’s always some kind of view. Whether it’s the mountains or the valley, there’s always something interesting to look at.

We had a new woman arrive yesterday, a Dutch housing specialist. She’s very nice, and only here for two weeks total. It would be nice if she were staying longer, because we seem to get along and I could use the company when I get back. Tomorrow night, we’re going to the home of a German guy who works on the project – he and his wife have been living here with their kids for 2 ½ years, are having us over for drinks. It will be nice to get to know more people around here – because I have a feeling that it’s going to be a lot of working at the office, working at the hotel room, and then just…sitting in the hotel room. That can make for a long two months. (This is where reading will also come in handy.)

To switch gears a little, I want to talk about culture and gender here – but this isn’t going to be what you might think it will be about. True, the fact that the degree to which a woman covers up, or is even allowed to go out in public, is sometimes determined by her family is something that is strange to me – that she could be made to never leave the house because her male relatives deem it so. But the fact of the matter is that there’s a lot more to it than that, and since I’m not Yemeni, I’m really not in a position to comment on it in more than a superficial and uninformed way.

So here are a few interesting things. For a society that is so dominated by men and masculine culture, there are things you see here that don’t fit with my culturally defined view of “masculine behavior”. It’s not at all unusual for people of the same gender to be very physically affectionate with each other in public; it’s being physically affectionate with a peer of the opposite sex (spouse included) that’s verboten. So you can see male friends walking down the street holding hands with each other, or with their arms around each other, hugging or kissing on the cheek in greeting. But at the same time, while it’s impossible to forget that you’re a woman here, it’s very easy to forget that you might possess any feminine attributes. As a foreigner, to see some women rapidly lifting and lowering the veil that lies over their face with each forkful of food in a restaurant so they can eat, showing only fleeting glimpses of a complete countenance, and to see virtually all women floating down the street shrouded in shapeless, black robes, without a real form, makes you forget what women actually look like. Even though I’m not dressed like local women, I’m still covered from neck to ankle every day, in loose, shapeless clothing. Your body almost becomes a foreign element, something that you stop paying much attention to, because not only does no one else see it, but you barely see it yourself anymore.

It’s not as depressing as it may sound, really – it’s kind of an interesting cultural experiment for the time being. Besides, when I was covered neck-to-ankle in loose, shapeless clothing in college, it was just low self-esteem disguised as my feeble attempt at “the grunge look”, so this is much healthier.

Causing A Commotion

Clearly, whoever is coming into town is causing quite the ruckus. (“Could you describe the ruckus, Sir?”) There are even more police hanging out all over the place, and they’re not letting many cars come up our way, although we were able to get here. Fortunately. Have I mentioned that I work in a hospital? The term “hospital” is a little more loosely applied here than at home, but still. Heh. Kind of funny, in that funny/strange way. But all the police are definitely exercising their authority – sirens, and car horns, and shouting, oh my! Our driver went to get my new SIM card so that I can have a working mobile phone here in Yemen, and they wouldn’t even let him stay in the phone office long enough to be told the phone number. Seriously. He had to come back to the office with it, I had to load it into my phone, and then I had to call someone to figure out the number by whatever showed up on their caller ID. Goodness. Seems a bit much, if you ask me.

Our new digs are interesting. My room is gi-normous. Seriously. It’s about half the size of my apartment– maybe more. And I share that apartment with two adults and two cats. But this hotel isn’t actually “open”, we’re mostly here because TL mentioned our plight to a somewhat influential guy who managed to get us lodging there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite grateful, as the Sofitel was fully prepared to chuck us out on the street without a second thought, but there are a few peculiar things about being the only two guests. First of all, there are little things missing. Like hot water (oops – they forgot to turn it on) and a wastebasket of any kind. Second, when we went downstairs for breakfast this morning, since we were told that, just as at the Sofitel, breakfast would be included in our room rate, there was nothing there. The dining room was fully set up, but there was not a scrap of food to be found anywhere. Their response to TL’s “wha-da-fa?” reaction? “Well, there are only two of you here.” To which he said “So we are to be punished for being ejected from our last hotel and sent here? When you are sent to prison, they still feed you!” That had a car packed with breakfast goodies leaving the Sofitel for our mountaintop hideaway of sorts right quick. This place is also *high* up on Sabir Mountain. Way high up. We have to wind up a teeny 2-lane road chock-full o’ hairpin turns that has made my stomach lurch from time to time. It’s also quite windy up there – windy enough to send the chairs, tables, and umbrellas on the large patio right below my window ricocheting to and fro all night. Kind of freaked me out at first, until I figured out what it was, and then viewed the chaos in the morning. It all made more sense then.

You know what should have occurred to me, but didn’t? They don’t show CNN here (at least, not widely, although it did pop up at the Sofitel eventually – fuzzy, but still there) because it’s an American network. *duh* I should have thought of that.

Being here, in a place that’s just so dang old (and actually, having spent most of this year [!!!] in really old countries with rich histories) has reignited my history buff tendencies. I’ve always been a fan of history, but now I’m just so dang curious about what happened all around the world (including the US) to get us all where we are today. I’ll have to pick up a few books, maybe even some historical biographies, when I get home, and stop skating on my sketchy recollections of high school world history. Which are getting sketchier as I get older. And given that I’ll be…*gasp*…thirty in May, I need to supplement my teenage book learnin’. Hey – if I can re-learn French, I can definitely re-learn the Renaissance, the Crusades, the Enlightenment, the Boer Wars, and all that stuff. The trick is that whole “history is written by the winners – and usually white guys” thing, which can skew the tone of what you’re reading. I’d like to see what’s out there and check out some alternative view points while I’m doing it.

Raise your hand if you’re surprised to discover that I’m a nerd? Anyone? That’s what I thought. I’d like to consider it part of my charm. I’d like to…but I’m too much of a realist.

So, you know what’s funny? I just went to wash my hands, and now it feels like there’s only hot water. I am positively howling with laughter. Oh wait – no, that’s pain from scalding water.

At Long Last...

Well, not really, but I've got my cell phone up and running - if anyone is, once again, interested in selling a spare kidney on the black market for a few minutes' conversation with yours truly, the number is: +967-711-81433

I've been told that they might add another "1" to the number, but not yet.

I'm not really even sure how that would work, to be honest. Or why it would be necessary. But if that comes to pass, I'll make sure I post it.

Okay - off to work. TL and I get along well, but I still need to pull my weight - charm and vivacity only get you so far...

Heh.

It's The Little Things

The digestive pyrotechnics seem to have calmed considerably, so I’m extremely grateful for that. I’m still not quite sure what it was that pushed me over the edge, but I’m trying to be cautious from now on. (Another helpful thing about not being vegetarian anymore – as long as it’s cooked enough, meat is usually safe, so I’m going to try to stick to chicken and thick-skinned fruit as my dietary staples since I’m no longer in the land of bird flu.) I did, however, notice at lunch that the chicken wasn’t cooked all the way through, despite being charred on the outside. Apparently, it’s frozen solid when they chuck it on the grill. So, maybe I had salmonella poisoning – known to fancy types as salmonellosis? Who knows? I’ll just try not to think about it too much. On a side note, according to WebMD.com, one way to prevent the spread of salmonella bacteria is to wash your hands after coming into contact with animal feces. Who WOULDN’T do that anyway??? Do people really have to be told that? It’s like those stupid product warnings, like not dipping your hair dryer in a bathtub full of water while it’s on. You know the warning is there because some brainiac has tried it.

So, the day before yesterday, as yesterday was spent in considerable discomfort, I got part of a tour of the city – the eastern half, and the western half was today. The guy who was driving us around in his 4-wheel drive (and wow, did we need it sometimes) was very nice and knowledgeable, one of our local counterparts here in the planning department. I had tons of questions for him, and the very nice young female architect who is kind of serving as my interpreter for the time being, was extremely helpful as well. Planning Dude (PD – heh, that’s almost like P Diddy. But not. Not even a little bit. Aw heck, I’m going to call him Diddy.) told TL that he liked that I asked so many questions; most Americans he’s worked with in the past have come in and said “well, here’s what you have to do”, without actually looking at the local context. To me, that seems irretrievably stupid but I know that planning has been done that way in the past, which is why you could fill a good sized football stadium with plans that have been carefully written, commented on, revised, approved, and thrown on a shelf to gather dust without a backward glance. While that kind of plan may, technically, fulfill the requirements of the contract, that’s not what I want to do, because I’m not one for intentionally turning out useless crap. (Call me crazy.)

You’re crazy!!

Anyway, I thought I’d share some pictures from Yemen, after discovering that the problem was not that Blogger sucked, but that the pictures were huge and took a long time to upload. So, for your viewing pleasure, here are some pictures of Yemeni goodness. And that picture I was trying to post from the other day is up – it’s pretty cool, if you feel like scrolling down.

Anyway, Diddy is very nice, but he has one, slightly terrifying habit. When he’s talking, he likes to look at you. This, in and of itself, is not terrifying. It’s the part where he does it while driving, with me sitting behind him that gives me pause. And by “gives me pause”, I mean “scares the living crap out of me” (no jokes about my recent illness, please…). However, we had a lovely tour out and about, viewing all kinds of parts of the city.

Here’s what most of the development in Taiz looks like , largely due to the mountainous terrain, which is easy to spot in this picture as well. The hotel in which we’re currently staying (long story short – we got kicked out of the first one for a few days because some official folks are coming into town. The old hotel will still be practically empty, but perhaps they didn’t want our plebian selves to tread across the path of said dignitaries) is perched way the heck up on Sabir Mountain, the mountain from which I took the picture of Al Qahira where I was looking *down*. And we’re higher up here than I was taking that picture. Yeeshk!

While touring around the old city the other day, we stumbled upon this lovely old mosque. I’m sure it’s one of those things that people get used to seeing after a while, but I still think they’re beautiful. Apparently, there are two main styles of mosques, Egyptian and Iraqi – the number of spires (I can’t remember the proper name for them right now) is the defining characteristic. This one is Egyptian, if I am remembering correctly. Of course, I could be mistaken, so if anyone knows better, please correct me!

Here’s another view from another peak – still not nearly the highest, but pretty darn high. As with Taipei, it would appear that there’s an issue of trapped air pollution because of the mountains surrounding the city center, as evidenced by the haze you can see obscuring the mountains in the background. I try not to about how I’m inhaling that, and lots more, every day that I’m here. But it’s another thing I’d like to try to do something about, in some small way, with this plan. We’ll see what opportunities exist – because this can’t be good for anyone.

The architect, who I’ll call Archie for the time being, is very indulgent of all of my questions, because I have asked her questions about all kinds of things as we’re driving around that are totally unrelated to the project, as well as relevant questions. But it’s interesting to learn about things like why some women are more covered up than others, why the men wear those huge daggers around their waists, if zakat (a Muslim charity program) is strong in Yemen, and just general cultural things. If I’m going to be here, I don’t wish to leave as ignorant of Yemen as I was when I arrived, because that would be a wasted opportunity. I don’t think I’ll be trying any Yemeni coffee (which they’re known for) while I’m here, sadly, so I want to see what else I can try. But Archie is a very nice girl, so I hope she sticks around.

Here is another view of the city from Sabir Mountain – this picture is also taken from what is, I would guess, a hundred meters or more below where our hotel is. Again – yeeshk!

To give you an idea of the extent of terracing that you see throughout the country, this is a shot I took on my way here from Sana’a. It’s still more impressive in person (or, maybe if I’d even just asked the driver to stop so I could take a good picture). But it shows you the raw engineering capabilities to be found here. Making stable terraces up a mountainside isn’t for amateurs, kids. So, you know, don’t ask me to do it or anything. I’m maintaining my amateur status so I can compete in the Olympics.

I am completely delighted to report that it’s a little after 9 pm and I’m actually *tired*. I may try to go to sleep soon, and here’s hoping I can sleep straight through until morning. Ah…

Careful What You Wish For...

You know those jokes I made about getting dysentery to take off the weight I put on while in Paris? Well, it’s not as fun in practice as it is in theory. (Okay, I never thought it would be *fun*, but at least useful.) I’ve been feeling brutally sick since yesterday, to the point where I couldn’t go into the office today. I should be doing work while I’m here, but since I was up every two hours or so last night, I keep falling asleep. TL got me some water and bananas at my request to help settle my stomach and keep me hydrated, so that was really nice of him. He’s been very understanding and nice about this. As the day has gone on, I think it’s getting a little better thanks to the magic cocktail of Pepto, Mylanta, and Cipro (the key ingredient), but last night was just miserable. The raging headache doesn’t help, either.

(cue violins)

Settling In

I had my first day at the office yesterday, which was good. TL continues to be a remarkably…intense individual, who seems almost incapable of brevity, but that’s okay – he’s very committed to the work we have to do, and thus far appears perfectly content to work as much as necessary to get everything done. SO, if that means I get to get my stuff done and go home faster, so much the better! I may even be able to swing it so that I don’t have to spend New Year’s Eve alone in Yemen, something for which I would be inordinately grateful, as that’s a thought that’s almost too depressing to contemplate. Well, if I have to be here, I have to be here, and I’ll chug some sparkling cider or something at midnight, and maybe even make a few phone calls to let people know how 2006 starts. Let me know if you don’t want me to spoil the surprise for you.

I got a brief driving tour of Taiz yesterday, up the mountains, down into the old city, back up some more mountains, all that good stuff. It really is a remarkable place, at least it is if you think mountains are cool – which I do. (Can you tell I grew up on the East Coast? Can we really even call Sugarloaf a “mountain”? And while we’re at it, who on earth came up with the name “Sugarloaf”? It doesn’t exactly conjure images of purple mountains’ majesty and all that.) In any case, one thing that’s extremely cool about this part of the world, and many parts of Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, etc. is that there is so much history here, such a presence of the past that is largely absent in the US, partially because we decimated a largely nomadic society when we settled the country, but also because we did that a few hundred years ago. Taiz is 1,000 years old. This castle/fortress (called Al Qahira) is about 600 years old. And it’s “newer” than a lot of things you find around here. One thing that the government would like to see here is an increase in tourism, which at first mention to the average American sounds like an unlikely angle. Kind of like when I saw a request for proposals to increase tourism in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip – just doesn’t sound like a natural vacation spot. However, there is so much cool stuff to see here, as I hope these pictures will partially illustrate. (And hey – apparently they’re fine with giving military escorts…I should have taken a picture of them.) I think they do have potential for tourism, honestly, because the natural environment is stunning, and the history here is so rich. Now it’s just a matter of figuring out how to make it all feasible.

There’s the rub.

The people in the office seem nice, there’s a very nice woman here who’s an architect (and who is, I’m guessing, a good bit younger than me – she doesn’t look too far out of school). I asked her if I was dressed appropriately, and she assured me that I was, so it looks as though I may be okay on that count. (But as I was so helpfully told in Paris, I guess I’ll have to “leave all of my miniskirts at home.” No kidding, Genius.) She went with me on my driving tour yesterday, and was apologizing for the quality of her English. Her English, however, is fantastic, and I’m reminded again how easy it is to be lazy if your first language is English, since many educational systems in many parts of the world will teach children English, so it’s very widespread and the incentive for native English speakers to learn something else is pretty low. TL is, however, French, and while he’s fluent in French, English, and Arabic, he’s been nice about speaking French with me so that I can practice. When it comes time for work stuff, however, we usually speak in English, since I’m not sure if I’d catch all the essentials were we to speak in French.

The others here have also been very friendly, not that I expected otherwise. It’s hard to describe what I expected, really. I think Pakistan was an appropriate warm-up for life in Yemen, really. Overall, the people are really nice and want you to feel welcome in their country. No one is stupid, I think we all realize that we might have some preconceived notions that we should get past, so it’s mostly about getting to know people with an open mind, which I’m pretty good at. There may be some peculiar or unpleasant incidents (none to report so far, however), but most people are just going about their lives. I am, as I expected, the object of a certain degree of curiosity when walking or driving down the street, but it’s not too bad – my last trip to Vietnam was worse, to tell you the truth. If I end up going shopping in the old market one day with one of the girls from the office, I expect that I’ll get a few more stares, but I’d like to try it nonetheless, it looks like it would be an interesting experience. I wish that I’d gone to the bazaar with one of my Pakistani friends while I was there – Samina was very disappointed that she never got the chance to take me.

So, life here will likely have that restrictive quality that life in Karachi did, but I’ve got practice, and I’ll bring a ton of books and DVDs with me when I come back, I suppose. (Anyone who is inclined to get me a Christmas gift – paperback books. I’ve got an Amazon wishlist that I’ll add to.) From the perspective of having been here a handful of days, though, I think it will be okay. Not exactly where I’d want to live forever and ever, but it’s okay. I was talking to one of my co-workers from DC the other day over IM – she’s been traveling more than I have, and sounds like she’s thinking about making some changes. But I know that if she leaves, my travel schedule is likely to get worse, so I’m selfishly praying that she doesn’t leave, and force me into a decision that I’m not ready to make yet! But in fairness to her, we both need a break, so if she stays, she’s likely to get first dibs on some home time, if it comes to that. (But when I really think about it, I have to say that “fairness to her” isn’t always at the top of my list – things like “having my nephews remember my name” are more important.) For my part, I’ve been learning that, politically speaking, it would be very complicated for me to just “switch” to domestic work full-time. Not impossible, but very complicated. Which is unfortunate, because my current company is far more likely to give me domestic projects than if I were to go shopping around at another firm, as my domestic experience is not, as of the present time, extensive. But all I really wanted from doing domestic work at this stage was balance, and a way to keep busy when things got slow. It is, however, a notoriously difficult balance to strike and maintain, because they operate differently. And all of that is just too much for me to really think about now anyway – there’s plenty here to keep me busy, and my brain is a little too fried to give much thought to future machinations, such as they might be.

It’s a little strange to be in my office on a Sunday, but the weekend here is Thursday and Friday, so I guess that’s the way it works. I can’t wait to really sleep in on Thursday, assuming that I can. The hotel we’re staying in is nice, but I miss my über-comfy bed. Ah well, I’ll be there in less than two weeks!