terima kasi

Sunrise over Borobudor Temple - Central Java, Indonesia

It's been a few months since I moved back to America from Qatar - I'm now reasonably settled into what will likely be home for the next five or six years. A year ago I had just returned from a weekend in Dubai and was getting ready to go to Egypt for Eid al Adha. Mongolia at this point seems like an odd adventure that somebody else went on, and one day Doha will be too . . . but right now I can still remember the richness of a daily zaatar croissant & cappuccino breakfast and the inescapable dust that I would wash off of my feet each night in my bidet.

In making pedestrian small talk with strangers I've found myself having to generalize the experience in such painfully trite ways - "It was a great opportunity to work abroad and we got to travel a lot during school holidays!" "My favorite trip was Syria and Lebanon - the food was great!" Ugh. Not that I don't want to share what I did, but sometimes putting it into words ruins the whole thing. Regardless, I regret not writing more about each of my trips. I wish I had taken better notes, not only to help my future self remember but also to better communicate what I lived when I had the great privilege of traveling the world.

Gunung Merapi, Central Java, Indonesia

Here's one corner of the world that I visited that has been making the news. This is a volcano that I saw while hiking to the overlook from which I took the first photo in this post. I was awestruck by this Real Live Smoking Volcano and paused to take at least twenty photos of it while my Indonesian friends, totally unimpressed, hiked onwards. Recently, Merapi erupted with serious consequences. All of the photos in this post are from just outside Jogjakarta, well within the limits of the volcano's effects. It got me thinking about my friends in Jogjakarta who were so generous and welcoming to me - a complete stranger - and I began recalling all the folks all around the world who befriended me and my traveling companions.

With my friend Suchiee. Outside Borobudor, Central Java, Indonesia. Photo credit Yasmi Setiwati

I made a list that went on for several pages - and eventually included all sorts of people. The gentleman at the furniture shop in Amritsar who fetched me a bicycle rickshaw after finding me wandering around in the dark with my new bicycle, getting cold and desperate to return to the hotel but too scared to ride the bicycle in the flow of rickshaws, trucks, donkeys, motorcycles, and cars. Guido and Rita, the couple in Medan who invited me to stay in their gorgeous home (even providing a pair of freshly laundered pajamas to sleep in. It was paradise after two weeks of solo backpacking), treated me to delightful pork barbecue (after finding out I was not Muslim), drove me all around Medan in an air-conditioned car - all on the pretense that I was a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend (Actually). Hendra, my self-appointed personal tour guide in Medan who spent three days showing me the sights without once mentioning any personal obligations that may have taken precedence over helping this random traveler.

Remembering the selflessness and generosity of these folks made me want to record and share a few of these stories with you. These days I'm pretty sure my mother is my only reader (Love you mom!), but regardless. With gratitude as my motivation, I'm hoping to sustain this thing until I go on my next big adventure.

Taken from a motorbike after we watched the sunrise - Outside Borobodur, Central Java.

pleasant surprises

I forgot about these things while I was away:

1) fireflies
2) seedless fruit, esp. grapes!
3) daylight savings time
4) voicemail

I'm home! Got stamped back into America on June 8. Indonesia was a Trip. Photos and reminiscin' to follow shortly.

in the good old summertime

The influx of mangoes at the grocery store (six or seven types from four or five countries!) as well as Saudi watermelons for 1 QR/kilo indicated to me earlier this week that the season had changed, as much as it can in the perpetual summer of the Gulf. As the fruit selection at Carrefour increases dramatically, the number of TAs in Doha has changed with similar abruptness but unfortunately in the inverse direction. Which is a long way of saying all of my friends have departed on their various paths back to America, through India, Europe, SE Asia, or after one last hurrah in the Middle East. I have a week or so left of work in Qatar, two weeks in Indonesia and then a few more bonus Doha Days to ship, pack, clean, and finally bid adieu to the darling tiny falafel sandwiches at Turkish Pizza.

Watching my friends get ready to leave last week was sad, but the way in which each went about it illuminated their characters in ways that I will remember fondly. Some had everything planned in advance - shipping, tickets, key returns, car wash - and even so, still had to deal with hiccups like a car accident or an agonizing visa delay up until the very last minute. The others threw it all together in the last twenty-four hours before departure, with varying success. Most everyone was quite disheveled when I saw them last. I became extremely antsy to fly again - anywhere! But especially home. This is my longest stretch in Doha (two months, five days) but I am relishing that which there is to relish while I am here.

Had a long lunch with 3 of my ex-students (Is there a better word for this? Should I just call them "my students" forever? How patronizing) this afternoon where we discussed history curricula from the elementary & secondary schools we had gone to. They had been educated in Egypt, Qatar, and Pakistan. It was pretty fun to imagine how incredibly much about pharaohs small Tarek must have had to learn, and to figure out what common world history we had all learned (Mesopotamia, and not much else).

What we remembered learning from geography class was quite hilarious - while I made flashcards for capital cities, Nour was in Doha learning the name and location of each oil and gas well in the Middle East and poor Emad was at one of the famously demanding Indian schools memorizing not just cities, landforms, rainfall, and exports, but also the location of all airports in India - both international and domestic.

In other news, I started doing yoga regularly this semester and I am hooked. I'm looking into throwing down some triangle poses in Indonesia next week.

Indonesia!!!!

Love to all of you so far away.

P.S. Some photos:

Tuesday Orgo Lab.

For video footage of what goes down in orgo lab, check out Yazan's excellent mockumentary presented at the premed completion ceremony (basically graduation but without degrees).


Rare documentation of the TAs' Number One Favorite Activity (After Grading): Anticipating Doha in June by Spending Hours in the Steam Room and Cooling Off in the Jacuzzi. I think we made the most of our luxury hotel lifestyle before heading to graduate student housing.

Let the morningtime drop all its petals on me.

Here's a few photos from my last four countries. After Yemen, I have visited twenty-one which is the same as my age! The logical goal is to have as many different stamps in the passport as years on the planet. I may try to front load it a bit this year, although for the first time since I moved to Qatar I have no travel plans in the next two months.

Sunset in Assiut, Egypt

We flew in and out of this city halfway between Luxor and Cairo the same way that Kansas City is halfway between Los Angeles and New York. Nobody could understand why we were there, it seemed like Legit Everyday Egypt, and there was not much to do by way of touristy activities except enjoy the sunset and the hilariously cracking voice belt out the call to prayer.

Sunrise in Amritsar, India.

I met my friend Briana here and she took me on a fabulous trip to the mountains near Daramshala. But first we explored the Sikh's most photogenic and impressive Golden Temple in Amritsar at night and then again in the damp foggy morning, walking slowly around the temple barefoot on the cold marble with all of the pilgrims.

Wagah Border between Lahore, Pakistan and Amritsar, India

The other big tourist attraction in Amristar is the nightly flag raising at the Wagah Border - the only land border crossing between Pakistan and India. Crowds gather in the grandstands on either sides of the border (a gate) and shout Indian (Long live Hindustan!) or Pakistani (I couldn't hear what they were saying!) cheers at the other side while the tall guards in funny hats march around dramatically and raise the flags of both countries. The attendance on the Indian side was quite a sight - with foreign passports we were able to get front-row VIP seats.

Chapatis in Ball Village - Himachal Pradesh, India

What I spent most of my time in India doing was sitting around a cooking fire warming my toes and watching, mesmerized, as nice Indian mothers cooked delicious food for their families (and me). Here is one of them - Rinku's mother, who we visited towards the end of my stay in Daramkort.

OmanMobile Cell Phone Tower - outside Khasab, Oman

Over spring break, I ended up spending two days bopping around the Musandem Peninsula in a OmanMobile Land Cruiser helping a very friendly Sudanese electrical engineer repair cell phone towers in beautiful places. Sammy took it upon himself to introduce us to all of the Sudanese people in Oman and also show us the sights of Khasab as he made his rounds. He took fantastic care of us from the moment he found us stranded in a downpour at the immigration desk north of Ras Al Khamiah. He also, notably, wore a reversible dishdasha (Arab man-dress) that had the same pockets on the front as the back so that when he woke up in the morning in a rush he would not have to even check before pulling on his outfit for the day.

Peter & Sammy - Musandem Peninsula, Oman



Old Sana'a, Yemen

The call to prayer in the old city was always very sudden and urgent, surrounding each delightful tower house with a chorus of echoing shouts overlaid with the few melodic muezzins. My time in Yemen was very relaxing (bet you didn't see that coming!) and I had fun bro-ing out Middle East style - we haggled at the qat market and ate delectably salty roasted chickens with our hands in grimy cafeterias.

Shibam, from the hike to Kawkaban (The two towns are always referenced in tandem, since there is another city in Yemen called Shibam. Now I have been to a place whose name sounds like "Sha-BAM Koko-BAN!")

Wee Yemenis - Shibam, Yemen

My favorite shot of the trip - these two cutie-pies asked me to take their photo as we were hiking back down to Shibam. ("Sura" is photo in Arabic, which I unfortunately did not figure out until halfway through the trip and consequently missed countless photos of adorable and willing schoolchildren).

Habibis - Shibam, Yemen

These two bros caught me sneaking their photo as they walked around the market in Shibam and I then invited them to pose. They're wearing traditional Yemeni man-garb: loose dishdasha, blazer, and decorative dagger (jambiya). We met many kind men who helped us find cabs, bought us mango juice, brought thermoses of tea out to enjoy while the sun rose . . . I have learned a good deal about the impossible kindness of strangers as I've traveled these past few months.

The highlight of the trip, however, I have no photograph of. We visited the home of one of my students, where I interacted with other women (and see their faces!) for the first time in over a week. I was invited to sit with the sisters, grandmothers, and aunts in the women's parlor while Peter chatted with our student's father in the men's living room. I met the men for dinner downstairs while the women stayed upstairs (as they did not meet male visitors) and then we split up for tea after dinner. I remember excitedly reading up on eating dinner with Arabs several months I moved to Qatar - it was the only chapter of "Understanding Arabs" that I finished. So I was ready, mentally if not stomach capicity-wise, for the fourth serving of meat and the insistence that I try the dessert drenched in famed Yemeni honey.

One element of dinner mentioned in the book, however, I had forgotten - "In the Arabian Peninsula countries, incense or cologne may be passed around just before the guests depart" - until the smallest daughter, dressed in purple tights and a curly braid, enthusiastically sprayed me six times with Chanel No. 5 after I was served tea. I found out later that she also got Peter with two hits of cologne (the little girls were allowed to go to both the men's and women's parts of the house). And so, though we had different conversations and experiences while visiting the family, we both left the Alasaly home very full and very fragrant.