Home Again - Kansas edition

After a week in Los Angeles, Dani and I were heading to Kansas. That, of course, is my second home. Dani and I had moved our flight so that we didn't miss Craig entirely. With our original schedule, we would have flown out Thursday morning when Craig arrived Thursday afternoon. Instead, we had a couple of days together before we went to Kansas.

My mom and my sister, Ann, picked us up at the airport. We had lunch together in Kansas City, then we dropped Ann and Dani off at their house. Mom and I made our way to her house, where Dave and family were waiting for us. I stayed one night at my mom's house before braving the construction dust and moving into my own house. After so many nights away from home, I just wanted my bed.

Craig and I, perhaps ridiculously, have the same bed in Los Angeles and Kansas. We recently found a perfect pillow* and Craig had sent one of those to the house in Kansas as well. We've fallen in love with the bamboo sheets my sister-in-law recommended, so Craig sent a set of those to the farmhouse while I was there. Now I only need to find the perfect comforter** solution and my bedroom will be finished.

Of course, the best part of visiting the farmhouse is that it is always Christmas there. In addition to the items Craig sent, I found a number of things we had ordered for the house after our last trip. (We have a habit of doing this - ordering the things we've missed just as we leave.) Given the length of time between trips, we often forget what we've ordered, so opening the boxes is something of a Christmas surprise every time.

The first surprise - a box cutting knife (shown here with the knife I had used to open all the boxes):

Next up, a small strainer (purpose still unclear).

Finally, a gift from friends:

I was thrilled to see the progress on my den turned playroom, though it isn't as close to finished as I would like. But mom and I went to Toys R Us, shopping for a birthday party, so I picked up a couple things on sale for my new playroom. It will have a lego theme, so I got this storage bin (you can also see the markers I picked up on sale, because, well...sale...markers...).

My trip was a little short, but it always feels that way. I was able to catch up with several friends, but I missed some others. There's never quite enough time for everything and everyone that I want to see. But we are going back for a longer stay in August, which I am very much looking forward to.

*The perfect pillow for Craig and I is, in fact, a single Casper pillow taken apart. Craig likes to sleep with only the inner pillow, while I prefer only the outer pillow.

**In Los Angeles, we switch between a summer-weight down comforter (for winter) and a light quilt (for summer). Given the difference in weather between Kansas and Los Angeles, I doubt the same solution will work both places.

Home Again - Los Angeles

My trip from Abu Dhabi to Los Angeles was about as uneventful as you might expect some thirty hours of travel to be. Craig dropped me off at the airport. Turkish Airlines provided the expected level of customer service (that is, primarily, figure it out yourself and take care of it yourself). The lounge in Istanbul was crowded when I arrived, but it cleared out some during my seven hour layover. A few highlights:

When we landed in Istanbul, the woman sitting across the aisle from me took off her seatbelt before the seatbelt light went off. We had not yet reached the gate; I could see that we were still some distance away. When the plane jolted forward to the gate, the woman literally fell out of her seat. We were in business class, so there was some actual legroom. And this lady fell completely out of her seat and ended up on the floor. I've never seen such a thing, but I guess there's a reason they tell you not to remove your seatbelt before the light goes out!

Walking through the airport in Istanbul, I noticed a number of people who seemed to be walking very quickly. While I vaguely wondered where they were off to in such a rush - "were they late for a flight? I thought the gates were in the other direction" - I suddenly realized they weren't pulling ahead of me. They weren't actually walking any faster than I was, as I meandered toward the lounge. This was my first moment of reverse culture shock - I had become so accustomed to how slowly most people walk in the UAE.

Arriving in Los Angeles, I had my second moment of reverse culture shock. So many of the people I saw outside the airport were practically naked! Perhaps we were having a warm spell or maybe everyone was dressed for summer vacation, but I haven't seen that much uncovered skin in months!

I also found myself a little bemused by the sameness of attire in Los Angeles. That might seem odd, if you imagine people in this region clothed in identical black abayas. But the reality in the UAE is actually far more varied. There are plenty of women in black abayas (and men in white dishdashas), but even among those there is as much variety in detail as you will see among jeans and t-shirts in the States.  More striking, though, is the variety of national costumes people wear in this region. There is similarity in the level of modesty, but not the color or even general shape of the clothing here. Perhaps it is merely familiarity with the clothing in the States, but everything looked so similar.

It was nice to be home, but the week ahead was quite full. Dani flew out to join me for a couple of concerts. We were able to go to a few of our favorite restaurants, as well. There were plenty of household chores to keep me busy - the mail, even with Mal going through it as it came in, was incredible. But I was able to find some time to catch up with friends and family before it was time for my next trip...

Adventures in Packing - Preparing to Leave

Craig and I had planned to leave Abu Dhabi on May 16 to spend about a month at home before returning. Because we would be coming back, we had planned to pack up the majority of our clothing and all of our household goods, to be stored for our return. On our return, however, we will need to be able to pack everything into suitcases for a trip home that includes a several day stop in Tel Aviv. I had some complicated suitcase-management planned.

Unfortunately, some schedule changes meant that Craig would be flying home a week after me. As a result, I would not be able to pack everything for storage. I would not even be here, with all the suitcases, to adjust packing at the last minute. Instead, I packed everything up, took pictures and made detailed lists, and upacked everything again. I left Craig with overly complicated directions to ensure that everything would work.

I packed his suitcase in layers, so he could see where everything would fit. Of course, after doing this, I realized that even if he couldn't make everything fit into the suitcase, he could toss any excess into the bins with the household goods. I had proved that everything would fit into the suitcase, so I was covered for our August trip.

 

Craig had purchased several storage bins for our household goods. I made a checklist of things to put in each bin, so that everything would be organized. Of course, to make this list I had to put all the things into each bin to make sure things would fit...and then I had to unpack everything again so that Craig wasn't forced to live out of boxes. Here's one side of the checklist:

Craig sent me this picture of everything packed up before taking it to storage (only the three suitcases will ultimately return with us):

I probably went to more work than was absolutely necessary. We weren't even gone for a month. And I have confidence in my ability to pack things when we finally return home.

A Field Guide to Locals (Craig's perspective)

[A guest post from Craig]

Laura and I have often talked, with no disrespect, about our need for one of those laminated cards you wear with a strap on your wrist to identify fish when you snorkel or dive—but in our case, we need one for the locals. There are so many varieties of thobes (the robes men wear), abayas (ditto for women), ghutras and agals (the scarf and rope over a man’s head), and hijabs (same for women) it’s hard to tell what’s fashion, what’s tradition, what dress indicates what country you’re from and so on.

I talked about this one day with our Managing Director who runs our office in Abu Dhabi as we walked through a mall. “How do you know what all the variations in headdress and women’s abayas mean?” Amin looked around and said, “That guy’s from Oman. That’s guy is from Qatar. See that guy over there? He’s from Kuwait. That guy there is a local, and he’s single. He’s a bit of a player.” I had to stop him there. “You get all that from a head scarf?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Amin replied. He went on to tell me how the local flipped the sides of his ghutra back, almost like wings (or, one could say, like Farrah Fawcet used to do in the 70s) and that meant one thing that was different than if he flipped only one side. Amin went on to talk about the agals (ropes) on a man’s head scarf and how that might tell you what tribe a man was from, and how you could tell where he was from by the colors of his ghutra. You know what country a woman is from by her abaya or hijab.

This was all very interesting and complicated.

Laura and I are fascinated by the local dress and what all the variations mean, and thus our idea of a “field guide”. Laura, in her own inimitable way, researched online for such a guide, but instead found a half dozen personal sites and blogs that got close. Besides, we’d look awfully silly (and likely foolish) if we were walking around with laminated cards strapped to our wrists and pointing, “Oh, look! A Qatari!” I don’t think that’d go over very well, if you asked me.

A Slight Distraction

If you've been trying to keep up with my trip, you might have noticed a "momentary" lapse in posts. (If you're looking back now, you won't see it, as I date my posts to the time they occurred, to keep things in order.) These past few weeks have been scatter shot with illness, jet lag recovery, and other distractions.

My primary distraction? My decision to open an Etsy shop. You may have seen my post on Facebook about it. I decided to turn the journal pages I created for Kai, for our roadtrip - you can see videos of it here. And here are some photos of my finished products:

This is way out of my comfort zone, but I decided to give it a try. I've enjoyed making pages for my own journal and I had a great time creating these pages for Kai. If you want to look at what I've got, check out my shop - PuzzlePrintables.

If you're interested in a customized page for a trip, like the page I made for Kai's book with a map and weather, contact me through Etsy, by email, or on Facebook.

A Quiet Weekend in Muscat

Craig left work early so we could take a late afternoon flight to Muscat. We took a taxi from our hotel here because parking at the airport is rather expensive. We arrived early, considering the flight to Oman to be an international flight.

We needn't have bothered. The Abu Dhabi airport was practically empty when we arrived. Of course, I hadn't thought that our carry on bags might be weighed, so it probably was good that we had the extra time. Our carry on bags were limited to 7kg. I had packed in our typical carry on bags - Craig's Tumi and my TravelPro. My bag was nearly full, because I had tucked several last minute items into it, but Craig's bag still had plenty of space left. I hadn't even packed particularly tightly in either bag, wanting to leave some space in case we did pick up some souvenirs.

Our two bags totaled 23 kg. Because it was just a weekend trip, I had not brought my backpack. Craig had his backpack, but they did not weigh it when we tried to go through security. I had to take a few things out of my bag - my journal, kindle, and medicine - and tuck it into his backpack for the flight. When we checked our two bags at the counter, they did weigh his backpack. With my additions, it now weighed 11kg. The lady kindly tagged his backpack as acceptable to carry on despite the weight.

Given those amounts, I'm not sure that even with my backpack I would have been able to distribute the weight to let us carry everything on. If international flights remain so diligent about carry on weight, I'm going to need to invest in a scale. Craig is a good judge of when a bag weighs more than 50 pounds, but 7 kg? Alternatively, I need to invest in much, much smaller bags.

We got our bags checked and headed to the lounge. That was a blessing because I had eaten a very light lunch earlier and was getting hungry. The snack there was just what I needed.

The flight was very quick. I used the two nose-sprays from my doctor, for both take off and landing, and my ears did not give me any real trouble. Flying into Muscat, we could see the stark difference in building height between Muscat and Abu Dhabi. (Muscat has strict limitations on new construction.)

Once again, the airport felt empty. We decided it must be the time of day we were flying. But in reality, it probably had more to do with the fact that the airport in Muscat is brand new...by which I mean not really finished. We got our bags and set out.

Stepping outside the airport was a bit of a surprise. The transition was an odd one - the architecture lulls you into thinking that you are still inside, but the temperature says otherwise! We easily found a taxi and set out for our hotel. The wide, nearly empty, roads from the airport told the story of its new construction.

Checking into our hotel, we learned that it had been open just a month. It was beautiful, but we did encounter some "new opening" issues - getting the wrong room and such. Craig took this picture of me in the lobby:

We got settled in our room and set out for dinner. We'd decided to eat in the hotel that first night. What we did not anticipate, however, was the challenge of finding the restaurant - a combination of "new opening" and really strange design. We followed the signs toward "restaurants" but we were only able to find the buffet. We finally asked the hostess there for the other restaurants.

She walked us through the buffet - the entire buffet - past all the tables and multiple food stations and open "show" kitchens. Near the end, she pointed past the dessert station and told us to continue on and then make a right. We were joined on this strange venture by another man who was looking for the same restaurant.

But as we followed her directions, we only found the Indian restaurant, not the one we were looking for. The unknown fellow asked the host at the Indian restaurant where the other place was and we tagged along. The host took us further down the hall, outside, past their outside seating, to the restaurant we were looking for. The hostess there was very confused that we were not one single party, but we quickly got that sorted out.

Dinner was good. But who designed a hotel so that you have to walk THROUGH the buffet to reach the other restaurants? Never mind that getting to the buffet requires that you either cross the pool area, which was sweltering even in the evening, or make your way to lobby floor, cross the lobby, and go back down to the buffet level. The architecture is striking, but I'm confused about the design of this place.

The next day, we got a picture of the pool area we crossed to reach the buffet. I love infinity edge pools, especially pretty ones like this that look out into the ocean. But it was so, so hot. Even used to Abu Dhabi temperatures, we were melting. It was too warm to do anything more than take a picture.

Later that afternoon, we did spend some time in a pool on the other side of the hotel. That pool was not nearly as pretty, but it did get shade in the late afternoon. Finally, as the sun went down, we decided to make our way to the Muttrah Souk.

First, a picture of the buildings we saw along the road:

You can see how much smaller and more traditional they are compared to the buildings in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. These buildings were opposite the corniche, which here would be prime real estate (for all I know, it is in Muscat as well, but they can't build enormous sky scrapers there). Craig also got a picture of the royal yachts. Yes, they almost look like cruise ships. But no, they are not.

Here we are at the Souk:

We spent a fair bit of time there, wandering the side alleys of shops because I'd read that most tourists never made it down those. Craig frequently stopped to take pictures of signs in case we got lost, but every side trip circled back to the main strip. We didn't get lost, but we did walk the same path a few times. I think I held up remarkably well in the heat - we only had to stop once to find a bottle of water. And I tolerated the sales people - that just isn't my thing at all.

We returned to the hotel for the evening. We had another adventure getting to the Indian restaurant for dinner. This time, we struck out from the lobby. We stepped outside, into the still fantastic heat, and made our way down a long set of steps (following the directions I'd overheard given to another patron in the lobby). From this side, we walked down the street, past where we had eaten the night before, past the outdoor seating for the Indian restaurant, and inside to the hostess station. Initially, we couldn't get a table inside so the hostess took us to the buffet. But before we had settled in there, she returned to offer us a table. We had a very enjoyable dinner.

The next day, we requested a late check out and lounged about the hotel. Craig had some work to keep him busy, of course. Our options were limited at the hotel, so after a not-at-all satisfying lunch-snack, we decided to go to the airport. But the airport was worse! I mentioned before that it was brand new? There was hardly anything open there. We sat in a coffee shop until we could check our bags. We visited the lounge, but found it disappointing. The only food on offer in the terminal was fast food. We had a second snack and made our way to the gate. It is a pretty airport. Perhaps when more things are open it will be a nice airport.

Preparing for Muscat, Oman

I'm not sure exactly how we ended up in Muscat, Oman for the weekend. We needed to make a "border run" - a trip outside the UAE in order to renew our visas. Many people will drive to the border, park briefly, make a u-turn, and drive home, which takes about five hours, depending on the lines. Others will choose to take a weekend trip outside the country. We decided the one hour flight to Muscat and a weekend getaway sounded like fun.

Craig picked our hotel based on an article he had seen about hotels with striking architecture. He booked our flights and arranged our visas for Oman. Then, he got overwhelmingly busy at work and was unable to do any further planning. He asked me to do some research before the trip.

Perhaps you remember the detailed spreadsheet of activities, including opening times and pricing options, that I created for my trip to London with my sister and company. Or perhaps the more recent, but similarly detailed, optional itinerary I created for my trip to San Francisco with Court and the girls. I do enjoy researching a location or a route, creating lists and spreadsheets, drawing up maps, and making all sorts of plans. 

This probably comes from childhood memories of travel with my family - my mom always got the appropriate AAA guidebook and maps before a trip. She plotted out the journey and any important stops. I have one particularly vivid memory of my mom recalculating and rewriting an entire afternoon of stops on a roadtrip to the Grand Canyon because one of my siblings overstayed the allotted time at a rest stop! With a family of seven, it's a wonder this didn't happen more often.

My plans are never as settled as that. When I travel, I tend to plan with lots of options. I won't do everything that I've researched, of course, but I will have a variety of activities for any possible mood, energy level, or budget situation. 

But if you expect something like that from this trip, you will be sorely disappointed. If you consider those two trips, you might notice one striking similarity - Craig did not take those trips. (You might also notice that both of those trips only had female travelers, but I didn't notice that until just now.) 

When Craig and I travel, our preparation is markedly different. He usually asks me if there is anything in particular that I would like to see at our destination. Sometimes I'll do a bit of research to see if there is something, or I'll tell him if I have something in mind. We will, without fail, visit that place. (See, for example, the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, which we managed to visit over our accidental 24 hour layover, even with my illness. And that, I was only fascinated by from playing Civilization games years ago.)

Often, I will research a few particular issues before a trip. I might look at weather or dress code for my own packing. I often look at health issues with some interest, as I tend to be more concerned about such things than Craig is with his frequent travels. Sometimes, Craig will ask me to look into a particular issue - such as how much cash one might need in Cuba.

In contrast to my own travels, I typically find myself immersed in more research after a trip I've taken with Craig. I love to pick up random novels when we visit different countries, if I can find them in English. I enjoy that glimpse into another culture that feels more real after visiting. And I'm a sucker for the historical fiction type novels sold in gift shops around the world, though usually Craig will order them for my kindle.

But back to this requested research. I don't think that I fully understood what was needed. I approached it from Craig's typical request of "what would YOU like to see" while we are there. I looked at websites and blogs and reviews. I compiled a short list of "the things to do in Muscat". And it was a short list: visit the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque (the biggest in the world prior to the construction of the Grand Mosque here in Abu Dhabi), visit the Muttrah Souk, stroll the Corniche, tour a fort, and visit two museums. On this list, nothing stood out to me in particular to earmark as a "must see" from my perspective.

I did note that most of the websites I looked at mentioned that if you had more than a day to spend in Muscat, you would want to spend the additional time on day trips outside the city. Those day trips consisting mostly of activities typical in the region, I did not imagine that Craig would be interested. He had suggested that he might enjoy a quiet weekend, recovering from a cold, and it seemed that we were heading in that direction.

I moved on to the hotel website, which listed exactly the same activities I had found in my research. I was a bit frustrated, thinking I could have saved myself the time. But even if I had looked their first, I probably would not have believed there were so few options.

It was only as we were packing Thursday morning that I realized how little research Craig had been able to do of his own. Everything I had read said that Oman was more conservative that Abu Dhabi, specifically that men should not plan to wear shorts. I had read a bit about the currency and taxis and other such things, as well. At Craig's request, I compiled a second email summarizing things of this nature...not that they were entirely accurate to our experience, as you'll see in the next post.

Thoughts and Observations of Hijabs

Growing up in Kansas, my experience with scarfs was limited to the woolen type you wear in the snow. I have vague childhood recollections of my grandmother and other little old lady types wearing a scarf over their hair occasionally for reasons that had some inexplicable tie to their hairdressers. Even living in Los Angeles, and attending school there, I've never encountered anyone who made the decision to wear a hijab on a regular basis.

During our month in Dubai, I think I was suffering from too much culture shock to register anything more than the fact that many women wear a hijab in this region. I remember envying the women wearing a traditional national costume for their ability to disappear into the crowd while simultaneously wondering how they did not wilt in the heat. In my research before this trip, I learned that there was no reason that I should not adopt any style of dress that I was comfortable with. That led to my purchase of an abaya and headscarf, which I wore to the Grand Mosque.

I had a great deal of anxiety on that first trip. I put my hair up and pinned on the hijab in the car, with little more than a YouTube video for guidance. I felt like I was fussing with it the entire visit, as the wind caught it or my hair shifted and I worried that I would be exposed. I can only liken it to wearing a wrap skirt without a proper fastener.

I did some more research and learned that a partial solution was to be found in wearing an under-scarf. There are several types. I read about them all and headed to the mall, to a small kiosk there that sells only scarves and accessories.

Of course, being my socially awkward self, all my careful research fled the moment the salesgirl asked what I was looking for. I stammered to explain that I needed something to wear under a scarf. The girl smiled and said, "is it your first time to cover, ma'am?" I nodded and she assured me that it gets easier.

She showed me several different styles of under-scarves. Then, with a paper hat over my hair (think of those nylon "socks" you get when trying on shoes, except for your hair, if you can imagine, for hygiene), she even arranged some different scarves on my head. She made it look very simple, which I suppose makes sense given her job. I got two different options to try and some scarf pins - straight pins, which was not what I expected but they do seem to work.

I've done some practice at home, but I've not gone out in public since making my purchases. I think I will buy a plain knit scarf, especially if we go somewhere that I need to cover. She sold me on how much easier those were to keep in place, even if I didn't pick one out that day.

But I have found myself fascinated by hijabs on this trip. I've read for hours about the topic online. I know that it is a deeply personal decision to cover or not. I hope that my fascination does not come across as judgement, because it is not meant to be. I am fascinated by the styles and decisions that women make with their scarves. Watching women has become something of a hobby for me, like peeking into a secret society governed by rules which I do not understand.

I've looked at plenty of guides for the different styles. I know that different colors, patterns, and fabrics are favored by different groups and different regions.  Scarves can be arranged in a variety of ways, to cover anything from just your hair to your entire face. I know that there are differences in style between the trending methods of securing your scarf and others that are very much "last season". There are generational differences as well, between the young and the mature. I do not pretend to understand the nuances of all of that.

But there are things that I have noticed.

Every public women's restroom that I have entered here includes an area, separate from the sinks and mirrors, with a counter, mirrors, and occasionally stools. Without fail, women wearing a headscarf of any variety will stop in this area after washing their hands and make some adjustment. Some will unwrap the entire thing and repin it. Others will make a few tucks, more like a check and fidget than anything else. It may get easier, but it still takes diligence.

Last weekend, while I was visiting a lady's spa and getting a pedicure, I saw a woman come in with her daughter. Once fully inside the women's area, she removed the part of her scarf that covered her face. This made perfect sense to me, given my limited understanding. But then she removed the rest of her head coverings, untied her hair, and shook it out...and proceeded to get a manicure. Other ladies in this room, getting services ranging from pedicures to massages, maintained whatever level of cover they had entered with. I think some part of my confusion regarding the rules is that not everyone is following the same set.

Today, I walked to the mall and it was crazy windy outside. As I crossed the street, I saw a woman rewrap her headscarf once before giving up and tossing it around her shoulders, leaving only her under-scarf covering her head. (This is something I've never seen outside the aforementioned area in the women's restroom or the YouTube videos showing different methods of putting on a hijab.) I saw another woman give up on hers and leave it draped over her head, held tightly under her chin with one hand, but leaving the ends flying in the wind. I saw another rewrap hers as she crossed the street and proceed holding it in place with both hands. The only woman I saw without any apparent concern for hers was a more mature woman wearing a tightly wrapped knit scarf. But then she ran across the street against the light, so I'm not sure if she had a better scarf method or a general disregard for all the rules.

Units of Measure

I went to the doctor again today - just a preventative check of my ears before we fly again. But this time, perhaps because I was visiting during normal office hours and not having any kind of emergency, the visit started with a vitals check.

I visit the doctor at home with more frequency than I care to think about. So I am very familiar with the routine start to most visits. But this one was a little different. It wasn't the language, although the nurses did converse partly in something other than English. It was the fact that the meaning I associate with certain numbers was thrown completely off.

To start, I was wearing a long sleeve shirt cuffed to three-quarter length. (You don't see many bare arms here, despite the temperature.) The nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around over my shirt. Maybe it's living in California, but I can't remember having my blood pressure measured over clothing before. That number, when it appeared, was the only one that made any sense to me. It was just the same as it is at home, slightly lower than average. It was also the only number the nurse felt compelled to explain - she assured me that it was "very good".

She took my temperature and read the number off to another nurse to record. 36.2! To get that temperature at home, I'd have to hold an ice cube in my mouth. (A quick google search in the waiting room assured me that converts to 97, which is my typical daytime temperature.)

Then she wanted to weigh me. But first, did I know my height in meters? No, no I did not. So she had to measure that as well. This led to an awkward dance as I stood on the scale while a woman who was probably not five feet tall tried to measure me.

The measurements, in kilograms and centimeters, didn't hold any meaning to me. But I weigh so much less here! Less than half as much as at home! And I'm so tall!

In fact, I think I'm going to start responding to people who ask for my height with "177 cm". It's really only acceptable for children to add "and a half" to a measurement like that. But since reaching my adult height, I've been torn between stretching to say that I'm 5'10" or shrinking to say that I'm 5'9".

But it funny to think that these numbers, which seem so clear and simple, can change so much depending on the unit of measure you're used to. I can do all the conversions, of course, or use google for an even quicker answer. But it isn't automatic.

If I were visiting a doctor at home, I would know immediately if I had a fever. But the temperature of 36.2 meant about as much to me as if she'd said it in Arabic. Usually when I step on a scale, I know if I'm up or down in the range I tend to fluctuate within. But here? I haven't seen that number on a scale since I was a chid.