Spinning

My head spins
Arabic winds
promised love
nightly sins
happiness
new found friends
intoxicatingly begins
wishing that it
never ends
a broken heart
always mends
when our soul
ascends

Learning to Think

The recent shutdown of Congress is teaching me how to survive in The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I am often frustrated by living in a place that disregards logic and chooses aesthetics over functionality. But then I look at the mess going on back home and realize that we don't always choose function either.

As for the Kingdom, there seems to be a decided push towards how things look to other people rather than how things work. Most of my students have never been taught critical thinking and I suppose that makes sense. Why would or should one think critically in a society that makes decisions for you; decisions based on appearing pious rather than improving quality of life? I have already written about the traffic and pollution problems. Everyone seems to operate on a "it only matters that I get what I want" mentality. Every one is in a rush.

However, when it comes to the administration of the life here, nothing is done quickly. I have been here two months now and still have not received my ID card, or Iquama. This ID is needed for everything: to travel, book a hotel, get a sim card, open a bank account, upgrade internet, book an airline ticket, send money to the USA, and many other basic needs. Tomorrow is the last day before a 10 day holiday and me and the other teachers who started when I did will be stuck here without the ability to travel or be productive in making life more manageable for the duration of the holiday. Form over function can blow me.

Anything You Choose to Do is Almost Always More Enjoyable Than What You Are Forced to Do

I have written about my first two months here in Saudi both on this blog and on facebook. When I look back at the things I have written, I get the feeling that I complain a lot. My goal is not to be a closed minded American who only values the way I have always done things. That being said, I will probably continue to complain.

Riyadh is what the USA would be if the religious right wing conservatives ran the country unopposed or power checked. I have never expected every country to be the same or offer the same way of life. I have also never been the sort to run around going "America, fuck yeah!" But recently, I have come to appreciate the idea of choice much more than I ever have before.

Saudis don't have a lot of choices when it comes to how to live life. Well, I suppose they have choices, but not as many as I am used to (not just in the States, but during my time in SE Asia and Europe as well). Because the religion and the government are so closely related, religious mores are codified as law. There is very little in the way of secular laws as a matter of fact other than basic traffic and contract laws. For the most part, the law and the religion are one and the same.

To be fair, there is some distinction. There is a regular police force and a religious police force. Personally I have not had contact with either, but I observe how they operate and read the local news. Back to choice. Things that are banned in Riyadh:

Public music
singing
dancing
pork
PDA
dating
single men and women mixing
single men and women ordering from the same counter or area of a counter in restaurants
women driving cars (no real ban but there are fatwas against it)
alcohol
magic
non Muslim holidays including Halloween and Valentine's Day
drugs
long hair on men
women wearing regular clothes in public
single women out alone in public (unless foreign)
Women showing their hair or ankles or anything in between except hands and eyes. (only in public)
Homosexuality
The Bible
Converting away from Islam
movie theaters
bars, night clubs, concerts
Basically, if it is remotely fun, it is probably banned.

This is where I have a problem. I truly believe that every person deserves the right to live as he or she sees fit as long as they do not hurt others. But in this place, this bastion of religious piety and hypocrisy, people don't have a choice. Anything you choose to do is almost always more enjoyable than things you are forced to do.

Settling In

It has been almost a month since I packed up my 2 bags, said goodbye to some of my best friends in the world, and was delivered to the airport by Valerie and her kids. The goodbye was unceremonious. She has been my friend since we met in a coffee shop in Davidson just before I graduated. I was there to read and write poetry and she was a barista who made a delicious Glacier Gulp. (Breyer’s Vanilla Bean Ice cream, espresso, and chocolate blended into a caffeine treat).

I grabbed my bags from the back of her car, said goodbye, and realized that once again in my life, everything was changing. It was a short parting absent of tears, but full of emotion. We had spent so many afternoons or late mornings sitting at either Common Market or Amelie’s bakery enjoying coffee and conversation. There was also the occasional trip to Smelly Cat and the artsy NoDa charm that I had forgotten how much I missed while I was gallivanting around SE Asia for almost 4 years.

Two flights and a change of date later, I arrived in Riyadh. My first impressions of Riyadh were somewhat bleak. The landscape is terrible at best. In recent times, Saudi Arabia has been one of the most peaceful countries in the Middle East. There is no Arab Spring happening here as the royal family has a firm grip on the political state. In addition, having the holy sights of Mecca and Medina gives the place a certain feel that is missing from other areas in the gulf region.  Yet despite the peace and holy nature of Saudi, any drive around Riyadh baffles the senses as there are equal parts new construction and fields of debris and rubble.

The traffic is maddening with its lack of order and the noticeable disregard for rules and regulations. It is not uncommon for highway exit ramps with only one lane to be filled with 3 cars at the same horizontal position as you make your way up the cloverleaf. Everyone is in a rush. This is the traffic of a desert metropolis awash in money, cheap petrol, imported American, Japanese, and Korean cars, and only male drivers. Insane. The senses become baffled because despite the obvious modern nature of Riyadh, every 5^th or 6^th city block is a field of broken stone and debris. It is as though while you are sleeping, someone comes along and bombs a few buildings into smithereens; a silent, sneaky, invisible war zone.

In truth, I cannot tell if the debris is from former buildings or dug up from the ground. Riyadh is growing at an alarming rate but they have yet to experience all that comes along with rapid growth. There is no concern for the environment. If garbage is left in the desert long enough, it gets covered with sand and is eventually out of sight. Of course, this mentality doesn’t work well in a city with paved surfaces and extreme development. The casual act of tossing one’s waste out the window remains and ugly reminder of what poor environmental planning means.

Like I was saying, this is the desert. I have been here about a month so far and there has been exactly 0.0 cm of rain and this trend will continue for many months. Without rain, the settling dust does not get washed away. On the one hand, you don’t have waste water run off problems. On the other hand, you don’t have ample fresh water. The buildings in Riyadh are covered by a thin layer of really fine dust that has settled and caked on over the months since the last rain. It is sort of like make up. In fact, it closely resembles foundation. I often wonder what this dust does to the lungs?  But then I have a cigarette and realize that I have bigger fish to fry.

As I settle in, I have found a bit of a routine. My students are awesome and it is dirt cheap to live here. 1 USD is equal to 3.75 Saudi Riyals. But the good thing is that the Riyal has the spending power of 1 dollar.

For example:

• ·         20 liter jug of water = 5 riyals
• ·         Pack of cigarettes = 9 riyals
• ·         Lunch of salad, rice, hummus, bread, juice, chicken quarter, fruit, and soup = 10 riyals
• ·         Laundry service for 6 shirts, 3 t-shirts, and 4 pairs of pants = 16 riyals
• ·         Pepsi in a can = 1 riyal
• ·         Iphone 4s = 1000 riyals
• ·         30 minute taxi ride = 25 riyals
• ·         Driver to and from work for 1 month = 500 riyals
• ·         2013 Kia sedan, brand new = 32,000 riyals

One can easily live on less than 3000 riyals a month and live well. Since the average salary for a University teacher is north of 11,000 riyals a month, it does not take long to see the value and draw of working here in Saudi, at least for 1 or 2 years.

When I first decided to come here, I was thrilled about seeing a part of the world that I had never seen. But I quickly found out that there is not much of Saudi culture to explore. As a single man, I am segregated from women and families. In addition, there are not many things that are truly Saudi. Everything is imported except for chicken, rice, and dates. That is a bit of a disappointment. Luckily Riyadh is more than 60% expats from various Gulf States and Africa. So I am learning a lot about Pakistan, India, Yemen, Egypt, Syria, Oman, The U.A.E., Oman, Sudan, Nigeria, Turkey and Jordan from the people I meet on a daily basis. This new knowledge comes with an almost unlimited amount of new foods to try and fawn over. I will save that for a future post.

For now, this is Marcus in Mesopotamia and I am settling in.

Moving day

My friend Stacy just said (via chat), I often find that I am a different person when I achieve a goal than I was when I set it. Words of wisdom to live by. Growing and changing as people is great when we keep an eye to being the best selves we can be!

Also, I am moving out of Sulmaniyah hotel today and to my permanent residence in Riyadh. Goal accomplished. Starting work at Al Iman University on Sunday. Goal accomplished. I wonder what person I will be a year from now when I complete a year teaching in Saudi?

Barista

There are no baristas in Riyadh
Such is a life out of balance
the rich smell of Turkish coffee
forcing my mouth to water
like Pavlov's dogs
in wait of a treat
but not cute barista to greet
No smile with service
a subtle blush
no heart warming rush
no opportunity for a cutle little sin
not even a "thank you, come again."

All of the workers in Riyadh shops appear to be male
What spell is this?
Of the many things American I miss
none as important as
the absence of Miss.

Like

Wanderlust

The wanderlust of travel is like a sickness that creeps into you body and soul.


seeping into my bones
saturating my spirit
coating my thoughts
wanderlust
two imperatives
go, do

amazed by the differences
everywhere
chair, table, desk, cup
shop, theater, food cart

So many words that
I have always know
but now transformed
slightly different than before
familiar
different
new

I wish I liked eggs

My experiences in Saudi have been quite limited so far. Perhaps the most interesting event was the ride from the airport to the hotel the evening of my arrival here in Riyadh. Apparently the appropriate way to drive is to floor it at all times. When approaching a vehicle in your lane on the highway, one should repeatedly flash the high beams, accelerate to the rear of the car in front of you, and pass them when they are 3/4 into a lane change. The first time this happened, I could probably have smelled the cologne of the drive in the car we passed if both of our windows were down and I was not holding my breath and bowels!

Mohammed, my driver, is not an aggressive man. He is tall, lean, and soft spoken. But he drives his Toyota van like he is in hot pursuit of someone who has just stolen his life's savings. During the drive he taught me a few phrases in Arabic. marḥaban Riyadh; welcome to Riyadh. Dahabba - go, šukran - thank you, lā - no, naʿam - yes, and a few other words that I have since forgotten. I wanted to ask him how to say. "my god, slow down argh!" But I kept that to myself.

In any event, the rest of my time here has consisted of downloading and watching movies on my laptop, the occasional email, and a few walks around the hotel. It is hot in Riyadh. Very hot. So hot that you could could cook eggs on the sidewalk. I don't like eggs. But that is how hot it is. 

Saigon, Vietnam is hot too. There are just 2 seasons: Summer and Wet Summer. I think the hottest day I ever experience in Vietnam is about the same as the evenings here. No joke. Of course there is not of the humidity that existed in Vietnam. But for what Riyadh lacks in humidity, it makes up for in pure heat.

Just before I left NC I took a bite of a ghost pepper to see what all the fuss was about. Don't try this, fyi. The ghost pepper is to a bell pepper what Riyadh is to Vietnam or Thailand in terms in heat. 

Until next time

Marcus in Arabia or Marcus in Mesopotamia. Not sure which I like better yet.

Conflict

Since 2009 I have been doing my best to live "In The Moment," just like the name of my blog. In these last 4 years I have seen and done more than I had ever imagined a poor kid from the hood could ever do. And yet I often feel empty.

Living in the moment means keeping both mind and thoughts focused on what is happening now.
To not take for granted the series of moments that accumulate to make a life.
To always say yes to experiences and adventures and new friendships.
To communicate your desires and feelings.
To express yourself with your actions in all that you do.
To do.
To do something.

This has been my mantra and my driving force. And it has worked for me. The thing about living for now is that when you look back there are little if no regrets. But there are some. One the one hand, the rush of living in the present and trusting that life will sort itself out is immense. I have experienced a high from doing that is not too different from that of a person searching for the perfect drug. My drug is travel.

And like the high seeker, sometimes I don't think about the consequences tomorrow will bring. I don't have a plan for the future. When I allow myself to think about the long term, there is some sort of emotional disconnect. Partly because I am not guaranteed tomorrow, and partly because I could never have predicted the turns my life has already taken.

My friend Valerie recently asked me what propels me to constantly be in motion, one foot here and another out the door. I am seeking the high.

Getting off of a plane, boat, taxi, tuk-tuk, songtheaw, ferry, xe om, or bus in a new country or city activates all of my senses at once.

New language.
New foods.
New smells.
New architecture.
New customs.
New music.
New people.
New opportunities.

It is like being reborn with a tabla rasa but keeping all of your knowledge and experiences. It is this moment, that is my driving force. And it can only be satiated by change. I sort of feel like Dexter and his dark passenger. But this passenger brings joy and whimsy.  In any event, I still plan to live in the moment, but I hope to reflect more on what may come and has happened.

Marcus in Mesopotamia

In just over 24 hours from now my move to Saudi Arabia begins. That last sentence isn't exactly true, but it is close. My move probably began when I was in university and I fell in love with a Turkish girl from Germany.  That was the moment that the idea of my existence on this planet changed from a local North Carolina prospective to a more global one.

There were many steps along the way. First I dreamed of Europe. And then of Japan. Then I went to Europe. My dream of Japan became a life in South Korea; living and working in South Korea's second largest city, Busan. It is a coastal port city with more than 4 well used beaches, 24 hour access to food and drink, and the kind of friendships that stir the soul into motion.

Some time and place later, I have been to 16 countries so far, including an amazing, interesting, and also terrifying year living in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

Tomorrow the adventure continues as I have packed up my life in the USA and will be boarding a plane for Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Full circle. I never married the young Muslim girl I fell in love with so many years ago. But now I find myself on the precipice of moving to the birthplace of Islam. I guess it is not exactly a circle. My life has spiraled more like the famous Fibonacci numbers with every event in my life being the sum of what has come before. Yet still moving in a circle so that I never lose sight of where it all began.

Marcus heads to Mesopotamia in 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 ......