From The Kingston Whig Standard
Sometimes the world is big and sometimes it feels very small.
The below post was published in the Kingston Whig Standard on Friday March 13th 2009.
Living in the Middle East, people often ask if I feel safe living here. It is an understandable question. I wish I could just say “Yes” and be done with the discussion and the unfair stereotypes that some people have about the Arab world and the Middle East.
My hometown is Kingston, Ontario, a town that has nine prisons in the city and surrounding area. In Kingston, I grew up knowing that when someone escapes from a local prison you will hear the helicopters, perhaps see the search dogs and eventually there will be a radio announcement about the missing convict.
It brought me an odd sense of comfort to know that the escaped convict is looking to get out of town as soon as possible. If nine correctional facilities weren’t enough the city of Kingston has plenty of half way houses to help rehabilitate the men and previously the women who were recently guests of the local institutions. I used to volunteer in a homeless shelter that often helped ex-convicts. I remember a guest saying to me, ” I just got out of prison. My previous life of crime, before I got caught, paid very well. Who wants to work at 7-11 for minimum wage? It really isn’t that much of a choice to make. Crime pays. However I have enjoyed my time in Kingston. I think I will stay in the city.”
Kingston also has an active bar scene with fights and drunken Queen’s street parties that has in the past led to cars being flipped and incidents of violence. However people rarely ask the citizen of Kingston if they feel safe living there.
When I lived in Renfrew, Ontario it was a 45-minute commute to the tiny school in Denbigh, Ontario where I worked. In the winter the roads were icy and snow covered. Sometimes, even with my fantastic snow tires, I’d feel my car slip backwards. If you are looking for things to be afraid of, ice covered roads in Canada is certainly something to fear.
Driving in parts of Ontario you are prepared for the reality that one day you might hit a deer. Regardless, if you are driving in the morning fog or heading home late at night, when a deer suddenly appears in front of your car it can do a lot of damage–to you, the car and the deer!
In deer hunting season I used to wear an orange sweatshirt into work in the morning. Listening to the locals fire off their riffles in search of their big trophy buck put a special kind of fear in my heart.
For a time I also I lived and worked on a cruise ship, traveling in international waters brought about its own special challenges. Out running hurricanes, leaving a port when a government was being overthrown, waking up to Miami drug dogs searching your room and listening to safety officers talk about the hundreds of ways you could die at sea and what we needed to do to be prepared all made you appreciate your afternoon off at the beach.
My point is this. There are challenges no matter where you live. Kuwait is no different. It is a country filled with interesting people, new experiences, a lot of adventure and like every country or city around the globe it has some issues. No deer to watch out for, no threat of hurricanes and no drunken, fighting Queen’s students though.
For me the challenges living in Kuwait is that the driving here can be fast, furious and gives new meaning to the term road rage. People often drive with their lights off at night. Then when they get ridiculously close to your bumper they flash their high beams at you. Honk their horns as you move over they speed past your car coming dangerous close to side swiping you.
As well sometimes men in this country can be a little bit forward. Let me please stress–not all men and not all the time. However, like driving on snow covered roads you learn to deal with unwanted attention as a part of the country. When I walk in the city I get this look on my face that I refer to as the “Washed Out Western Women look.” It is the empty glazed over eyes. My facial expression says, “I am so not looking at you or remotely interested in you.” Without words I am trying to communicate the message that will clearly tell you,”don’t even think about telling me that you like my eyes or blond hair because I didn’t just get off the plane yesterday. I like to think of it like defensive driving, defensive walking keeps you safe before trouble occurs.
I enjoy Kuwait, the culture, the people and the new adventures. I feel just as safe here as I have felt anywhere else in the world.
More Than A Middle East Road Trip!
With 3 KD of gas put in the Jeep the Kuwait roads were pretty much free from traffic. Being Friday, a portion of the country was celebrating their religion. We took the 30th to 6th Ring Road, passing the Kuwait National Football Field on the right. Seeing this stadium it was clear that this was a country moving forward. The stadium so huge, proud and filled with the football dreams of many a young Kuwait child was just one example of this.
As we drove forward a large tent city approached on the left. Rows and rows of tents covered the desert landscape. We passed the Doha Port and marveled at the blimp that hung in the air over the water gateway to Kuwait. Soon on the right was the Kuwait Olympic Shooting Gallery and just ahead of that was a sign warning drivers to be cautious sand drifts.
When we saw a road sign that read desert and had an arrow pointing right we knew we were close to the exit for Jaha Spur Desert. Being on the road to Iraq it was no surprise that we saw rows and rows of flatbed trucks filled with desert war vehicles. As the utility trucks passed by we turned onto the 70 and were now heading towards Saudi Arabia.
A golden mosque stuck out light a ray of light or a beacon of hope. The traffic in the right lane was backed up for miles as men in cars patiently waited to enter the Jaha graveyard. In muslim culture people need to be buried within 24 hours of when they die.
We soon reached the first check point and were waved on. We drove passed the Ali Al-Saleam Air Base and at the second check point the Kuwait solder, with a cigarette in hand, waved and gave us the thumbs up sign. We drove a short distance and then pulled over. Seeing nothing more then giant sand dunes one had to wonder if perhaps all the history of the vehicle grave yard had been cleaned away and the sand had hidden the rest.
You can’t live your life wondering what is over the sand dune so we began to climb! You listen when told to walk in the car or camel tracks because if anything was under the ground and it didn’t hurt a camel or a car you should be okay.
As my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight and we walked forward I was amazed to see rusting wrecks from the Highway of Death sticking out of the desert sand. It was like the winds of time did not want this vehicle “graveyard”, this piece of Kuwait history to be forgotten. It struck that less then three weeks ago I was watching the Egyptians painstakingly dig up their history and here I was watching another culture try to forget the painful past.
As I walk through the wreckage the controversy, the death and the destruction that surrounds this place is not lost on me. However I now live, work and for the most part enjoy the country of Kuwait. A country that wouldn’t be here without great sacrifices by many brave men and women to keep this country free.
Part of the spiritual experience is coming to terms with the society in which you live.
Sometimes this can be quite difficult; one feels changed, different, and it is hard to communicate this experience to others.
but in the end, we are individuals living in a collective group; associations are paramount.
One skill that is easily developed is empathy; a deep understanding of what someone else is feeling.
Compassion goes hand in hand with empathy.
As we journey further and further, we recognise our unique differences, but also the huge amounts of common ground that we have;
we can become good with people, and share our experiences.The joy of spirit shines in us all.
-100 Musical Footsteps-
Back to the Bridge!
After living on a ship for years it is always interesting experience for me to come back to a ship as a paid guest. You enjoy life as a guest but I do believe there will always be a piece of your heart that belongs to the crew. That even longs to be crew again.
When I embarked this Nile cruise ship on Tuesday we were the first guests to arrive.
I remember thinking oh what a bother we are being those early boarding guests but it was what we needed to make our travel plans work. Later on that day I had a question for reception. The first thought that passed through my head was not I’ll go down there and ask instead I thought I’ll ask tomorrow everyone knows you don’t bother reception on embark day.
As I watched a few people interact with the crew it struck me as odd that there were some people who took the time to ask the names of those that were serving them. Such little things make a difference. I remember when sailing far from your home the small kindnesses of a guest is by no means required but is usually appreciated.
The crew on this ship were all men, all from some part of Egypt. They were fun and funny, sweet and charming. What they lacked in proper training they made up for in genuine desire to do a good job.
I do believe that it was through such kindness and desire to serve people the Silver Fox, the funniest pharmacist I have ever met, and I ended up on the bridge as we crossed parts of the Nile River.
For me walking onto the bridge was like going back to your childhood home or your old university. There was something very comfortable and familiar about being back on the bridge of a ship. I spent many days and wonderful nights watching the sunrise across the ocean, seeing the moon paint the waves and appreciating the wonder of our planet. For small periods of time in between by youth staff or crew activities I was privileged enough to catch a glimpse of the life of a sailor.
Now there are many, many differences between a Nile Cruise ship and the mega, major cruise lines but for me one of the most striking differences is how you never see or hear about the captain of the ship.
Sometimes things in the Middle East get close to what I know but there is always that wonderful Middle Eastern twist the makes things special. So walking onto the bridge I had no idea what to expect. In the middle of the bridge sat the captain’s chair, a large wooden chair with a decorative flower print pillow. A joystick was used instead of a steering wheel but like many mega ships the old wooden wheel was still there. Beside the main control panel was three silver gear shifts to power up or down the engine.
The man driving the ship had no stripes on his arms. He was dressed in his brown dishdasha, his sandals resting on the floor near his feet as he skillfully steered us through the lock system. It was perfect!
As we went through the lock the tourism police sat on the outside of the bridge, with a large machine gun resting comfortable on their lap. It was a little odd for me to see such a large fire arm out in the open, on a bridge but perhaps necessary. We are in a day and age where pirates are making a come back. It is better safe then sorry.
I stayed on the bridge for hours, having tea, playing with one of the children that lives on-board, honking the horn at passing ships and enjoying trying to speak with the captain. His English was limited and my Arabic needs work a lot of work. At one point in the afternoon the second captain came up so that the first captain could go for his time to pray. He places a prayer mat outside the bridge and made a spiritual connection. It was so natural.
It was great to feel back at home. If only for an afternoon on a cruise ship on the Nile!
Lemon Pancakes in the Middle East!
This is for all the Oastlers out there who will fully appreciate
the beauty of this statement!
Today I made lemon pancakes in the Middle East!
Despite the challenge of wondering if I found the right ingredients and the tricky nature of my gas oven the lemon pancakes turned out perfectly! There is something so comforting about making, eating and laughing over lemon pancakes. I had a glass of orange juice and cup of tea and after all my pancake guests left and I remembered many Oastler family functions where lemon pancakes celebrated a holiday or event. Tonight the lemon pancakes simply celebrated the fact that I have been living, teaching and traveling in the Middle East for a little less than two and half months. Which the longer I live here the more I fully appreciate how that is an achievement to be celebrate!
Got Wasta?
So one of the beautiful things about being in an new culture is learning new words, cultural terms and the meaning behind them.
One big word in the Middle East is the concept of Wasta.
I am not sure I fully grasp the power of this word as right now I tend to simply stand back in amazement when I see Wasta at work. Wasta is an Arabic term that in English means clout, connections, influence or pull. Things in this country seem to get done based on your Wasta or your companies Wasta. There is an interesting article called,” How good is your wasta?” which outlines the power of and gives examples of Wasta.
It is interesting to note that this term does seem to be limited to the Middle East as when you type in Wasta to Wikipedia you get a listing for Wasta South Dakota.
What Would Anderson Copper Do?
What Would Anderson Copper Do?
When I was in my 20’s I was fearless. I went swimming with sharks, jumped out of planes over Florida and traveled the world working on cruise ships. I was meeting people from around the world and dancing till dawn as I sailed the seven seas.
In my 30’s I left the world of luxury travel and took a full time teaching job in my hometown. As I bought furniture, dishes and a car I started to feel settled but I also began to second guess a few of my choices. Perhaps all the time I spent in search of action and adventure would have been better spent on putting down roots in one community? As the year passed I began to feel an increasing sense of anxiety. Friends around me were getting married, having children and buying houses. None of that felt like the right path for me but like trying to smash a square peg in a round hole I tried to make it work.
For part of this year I forgot how to see myself as a citizen of the world. I had put my passport in my closet instead of in my pocket. As I struggled to figure out why living in a small town wasn’t working for me I happened to be watching CNN. Looking out to the world I wanted to be exploring, I found a man who was “keeping them honest” and he helped me stay true and honest to myself.
I dug my way out of my confusion by asking one simple question. What would Anderson Cooper do? I mean think about it, here is a guy who on a nightly basis casually mentions how he is deep in the midst of an Afghanistan training camp or knee deep in contaminated water trying to help rescue stranded victims of Hurricane Katrina. Not only does he report the news his fearless zest for life is news!
Now I know Anderson Cooper said, in Outside magazine, “My sense of what’s dangerous is completely warped. People have stopped asking me for advice, because I encourage people to go anywhere,” but his fearlessness helped me to remember that all who wander are not lost and that perhaps living in the same place for so long is an abnormal way of life.
As I began thinking about what I could do next or what I should do next I realized I had way more options then Anderson Cooper did when he started out. When Anderson was finding it hard to get started with reporting he made a fake press pass, entered Burma illegally, started to film students fighting with the Burmese government. He had the passion and the creative belief in his talents to try and sell his clips to news agencies. Me, I have a teaching degree and experience. I only had to start sending out resumes, prepare for interviews and look for warm countries I wanted to live in.
When I got my job in teaching in Kuwait people I knew and respected had a wide variety of reactions. Some people were positive and supportive. Other people said nothing and some people flat out called me crazy. At this point I didn’t even have to ask,” What would Anderson Cooper do?” I knew this decision was right for me!
Sometimes in trying to explain to people who haven’t traveled extensively, or who were afraid of the things they saw on CNN I got frustrated. Couldn’t these people just be happy about my next adventure? For me staying in one place and not exploring, even the more challenging parts of the world, is a crazy thought. So as I started to pack, get visas and prepare for my adventure to the Middle East I was getting lots of unsolicited questions, comments and advice. So I turned back to the well-traveled Anderson Cooper and his words helped put things in perspective. I read that Anderson said, “ you have to admit what you don’t know, and talk about what you do know, and talk about what you don’t know as long as you say you don’t know it.” This helped me enjoy the sharing and learning about the new culture that I will soon be experiencing. I am embracing the adventure that is forth coming!
So in September when I am shopping in one of Kuwait’s traditional souks or enjoying my first camel ride I will happily think thank goodness Anderson Cooper helped me figure out what to do!
Thanks Anderson!
Kuwait City, KUWAIT
Christine Oastler is a freelance travel writer, teacher and artist, currently living in Mahboula, Kuwait. Born and raised in Kingston, Ontario, Canada, Christine obtained her Bachelor of Arts at Trent University and her Bachelor of Education from Queen’s University. Currently traveling around the Middle East she finds herself riding the odd camel and embracing a new culture!