A Bulldog Abroad

Sail Fast, Live Slow

2012-01-30T19:06:00.001-08:00

Set sail from Bequia to St. V today. Tomorrow I go home. Clean the boat when we got in and had lunch. I am now ASA 101 and 103 certified, which is one of the goals I had come here to pursue. My hotel room overlooks Blue lagoon and the ocean past that. I smoked a Cuban cigar, watched the sun set and rum. I am no longer moving, which is an odd feeling. My bed stays in one place, and the lapping of the ways against the hull no longer lulls me to sleep. Tomorrow I board a plane and head back to winter, civilization and responsibility. I will leave behind a lifestyle I have grown to adore. I learned to skipper, sail, navigate and take care of a 44 foot sailboat and crew. I learned more about photography, which I hope you enjoyed. (Find me on facebook for the whole album.) I learned to once again fall in love with the stars, music and the sea.

Above all I learned to sail fast, live slow.

Boat Drinks

2012-01-30T19:05:00.000-08:00

1/13

Salt Whistle to Bequia. Close hauled the whole way. 5 hours of 8 foot waves. Felt like a marathon. Found some abandoned homes on the South of Admiralty. Anchored in the bay and read A Pirate looks at 50. Scott and I had been making Jimmy Buffett's Boat Drink jokes the whole day so he obliged with the song over the speaker system as the sun went down along with the drinks. On shore I had my best meal yet at the Gingerbread Restaurant. (No idea why, but that was the style of the architecture.) I had shrimp sauteed in garlic and chardonnay with a drink I asked the bartender to make in honor of our ship's name. Wine an rum cake followed. Sleeping on deck tonight.

Southern Cross

2012-01-30T19:04:00.000-08:00

1/12

2:57 am

Woke up before the 3am alarm. Glasses on, stumbled upon deck. Find Sagittarius, and Scorpio-old friends of mine. The clouds clear-to the lower right a reason to “remember just why I cam this way…The Southern Cross!”

Written by Crosby Still Nash Young, my favorite version comes from the Mayor of Margarittaville:

Got out of town on a boat for the Southern Islands

Sailing to reach before a following sea

She was makin' for the Trades on the outside

And the downhill run to Papeete
Off the wind on this heading lie the Marquesas

We got eighty feet of waterline, nicely making way

In a noisy bar in Avalon I tried to call you

But on a midnight watch I realized why twice you ran away
Think about how many times I have fallen

Spirits are using me, larger voices callin'

What heaven brought you and me cannot be forgotten

I have been around the world looking for that woman girl
Who knows love can endure

And you know it will

And you know it will
When you see the Southern Cross for the first time

You understand now why you came this way

‘Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small

But it's as big as the promise, the promise of a coming day
So I'm sailing for tomorrow, my dreams are a dyin'

And my love is an anchor tied to you, tied with a silver chain

I have my ship and all her flags are a flyin'

She is all I have left and music is her name
Think about how many times I have fallen

Spirits are using me, larger voices callin'

What heaven brought you and me cannot be forgotten

I have been around the world lookin' for that woman girl
Who knows love can endure

And you know it will

lAnd you know it will
So we cheated and we lied and we tested

And we never failed to fail, it was the easiest thing to do

You will survive being bested, somebody fine will come along

Make me forget about loving you and the Southern Cross

Later that day:

Left Union for Mayeau and Salt Whistle Bay. I stay on the foredeck long enough to get into some real water and sing the ode to the constellation I had witnessed a few hours before. The wind was blowing and the waves were rocking against the hull meaning only the Ocean heard my song. The cross was fun, with lots of man over board drills. Made it Salt Whistle Bay and went swimming. I ended up swimming from the boat to the shore and back, loaded up after passing my 103 test and hiked into town. Went into a Rastafarian bar owned by a named Robert Righteous. He hung out with our crew and an English couple for an hour before making dinner (so we were starving by the time the food came.) I slipped out during the conversation to run up to a church and shoot the stars. One got a real idea of how small we are looking at the vast blue sea under stars from atop the hill. After we finally finished our food, margaritas (way too much tequila, but in a good way) rum punches and beer we made our way back to Andato. Owen and I ferried the others back and then hit the beach again, achieving my favorite shot of the trip:

Nothin' but a breeze

2012-01-30T19:00:00.000-08:00

1/11

6:15pm Sitting on a mountain top while the sun bids adieu to the Caribbean. An hour ago I had rum and our boat played Bob Marley’s “No, woman, no cry” as we gently rocked in the bay. I watched the sun start to set and the stars start to come out.

Got to shoot stars tonight on a beach. I am getting up in a few hours for the Southern Cross.

Practiced man overboard and points of sail stuff today. Got mom her vanilla. Finally found a tourist shop in the town we left Dad off in-but it lacked postcards. I wonder where he is now? He would have loved the stars before the moon washed them out. Definitely will need to come here in the summer for the Milky Way.

“Jimmy, I wish you would take me
Where the grass is greener
I really couldn't say where it may be
Somewhere up high on a mountain top
Or down by the deep blue sea”

-Nothin’ but a breeze

Laid back and Cay wasted

2012-01-30T10:14:00.001-08:00

1/10

two rum punches and a hairoun into the evening at writing-

Morning started with ride to Baradol, a small island in the Cays. We did the white sandy beach on a deserted isle thing. Scott, Dad and I hiked a bit and found iguanas which would give Godzilla a fright. The water was a dreamy blue color

We snorkeled out to the reef protecting the cays and swam through coral fields teeming with wildlife. On the swim back to the boat I had to stop and let a school of 100 black fish the size of basketballs swim through. I felt like I was at a stoplight in Finding Nemo. We picked Dad up off the island and headed through a channel past all the catamarans and saw the Royal Clipper as we came around the leeward side of an island. We headed to sea to practicing tacking and jibing. Dad’s seasickness got the best of him so Scott and I took him to Union Island and he will make his way back to Wisconsin. It was great having him along. I don’t know how many more times we will get to spend together. Now I am alone abroad. Again.

We made fish for dinner which superb. There is a bar at the head of the harbor-made of conch shells and cement. The younger guys all went for rum punch where we were solicited for prostitution and local agrarian products. I think. Saw a shooting star. I continue my Caribbean adventures minus one Weller.

Party at the end of the world

2012-01-30T10:13:00.000-08:00

1/9

Looking at the chart I see a reef titled World’s End Reef. We will be going by there to get to the Tobago Cays. After leaving Bequia, we encountered super rough seas which put Dad out of commission, and sailed for four hours to the Tobago Cays where we are anchored now. I got to listen to Jimmy underway, many of my favorite songs played while I took the helm. Zac Brown also lamented about having his toes in the water while the waves pounded over our bow. Once we anchored I snorkeled in that light blue water so adoring in post cards (haven’t found any yet for sale yet.) I saw some leatherback turtles and manta rays swimming around Andato. Ended the day watching the moon come up from under the shrouds by the bow with Orion and the Pleiades over head. A magical day.

Take me to the water

2012-01-30T10:12:00.000-08:00

1/8

Woke up this morning and headed to the boat. Her name is Andato, and she is a 44 foot Gib’Sea, probably older than I am. Lacking the modern cruising amenities (furling main/ electric winches-though we do having a furling jib, but we will be attaching and running up an older style, non furling one) means we will learn lots! I took the American Sailing Association 101 test (Basic Keelboat) and got 7 wrong, meaning I passed. So did Dad, which I was rather worried about because he had been super busy and not been able to study much. At 1:48 pm we “got out of town on a boat to the southern islands on a reach for following seas.” Fins up!

We made it across the channel to Bequia, the largest island of the Grenadines. Dad steered and I set the jib. Now I am sitting on the bow under a full moon among 50 ships- the mast head lights also look like stars. Dinner was lobster quesadillas at a bar in Port Elizabeth where I had more Hairoun. Tomorrow we sail for 4 hours South and will again practice anchoring and points of sail. I am absorbing and understanding the information from the classes very well.

There were big waves today, ocean rollers coming in from Africa. Gear and Dad holding up well. Still surprised by the lack of tourists, really only yatchies. Excited for our sail tomorrow!

Yo ho, Yo ho a Pirate's life for me

2012-01-30T08:39:00.001-08:00

1/7

I had breakfast by the sea, and then we drove for a few hours through towns and villages along the coast. The area was gorgeous and the people were all smiles. They look different than those from TnT. Lots of men were walking down the roads, with dreadlocks. Many of them also had backpacks and machetes, meaning they were tending to the country’s GDP in the mountains. As we drive I am in the backseat, meaning it is hard to take photographs.

Our driver is named Phyllis and has lived in St. Vincent all her life. She has a wonderful jovial way of speaking, wishing friends a “blessed day.” I notice as she greats other women they both use the term “mon” which I assumed was only meant for males as an accented way of saying “man.”

We make it to Dark View falls where we ventured between the low and high falls after crossing river a few times. On the way back we stopped at Wallibou, the dilapidated set location for much of the Pirates of the Caribbean films. It lacked few interesting things for tourists, but did have a bar with rum (naturally I indulged in the local specialty of rum punch.) It was still awesome to see the place where some of my favorite movies have been shot.

There are few Americans on St. Vincent, apparently they congregate in the southern Grenadines, away from things (like people, and presumably the law.) A Jimmy Buffett book once warned not to question the histories of American’s met in the Banana republics which is fine as other than the Barefoot staff I haven’t seen any. Actually I haven’t seen really any tourists, although there is a cruise ship in port. The tourist infrastructure is also lacking; I haven’t witnessed a t shirt or postcard for sale. Tomorrow I go sailing!

St. Vincent, Grenada, oh I want to take you...

2012-01-30T08:38:00.000-08:00

1/6

When we made it to the Grenadines I immediately got fresh fish and a local brew called Hairoun (great stuff, much like what Landshark Lager tries to be.)

In our flat we met our neighbors who offered us dinner and drinks. They worked at Barefoot, the school we were learning sailing from. Chris was the director and Scott would be our teacher for the week. The weather is gorgeous, around 80 degrees with strong easterly winds (the reason this area is so wonderful for sailing.) We learned that the coast guard doesn’t work (the boat is currently beached) so other sailors provide the rescue, and that roughly 50% of the GDP comes from marijuana. This also means anyone attempting to get anything done must do so before noon as people are either drunk, high, or napping. Seems like a perfect pirate hideaway.

Down the the Banana Republics

2012-01-30T08:37:00.000-08:00

The following blogs were translated from my journal as my technology failed and I had to use traditional pen and notebook.

1/5

“Until you got here, I was the only white guy in line” My father and I were in a vary cold Toronto airport, waiting to check into a Caribbean Airlines flight. Due to the oddness that is Expedia, we were on separate flights, but eventually wound our way to the Windward West Indies with a brief stop in Trinidad. The people there were mostly a color and mix I had not ever seen before and were exotically intriguing. I knew I was in a developing country as the first thing I saw in the Trinidad customs line was “whitening cream,” which was repulsively popular in the Arab Gulf states I travelled in. (It makes ones skin allegedly look lighter, but ends up looking like a sad paste.) There was also a large amount of Nescafe for sale.

My gear has been holding up well. In Chicago and Toronto I could have quickly made the earlier flights due to only using a carry on.

As the sun came up over Port of Spain I walked outside of the airport, into a tiki bar and traffic, on the other side of the road.

I'm Blue (toothin')

2011-12-29T14:17:00.001-08:00

My macbook is going to be too heavy for the Caribbean adventure. I will be packing up all of my camera gear and a few pair of clothes in one bag. The airport layovers, ship to shore moving and town wandering I will undoubtedly do pretty much only allows for one bag. I will pack lite so we may go fast. I have agonized over the lightness of a tab (like Ipad or Galaxy Tab). Most of my computing involves writing (like this,) internet browsing and email. However a tab won't let me edit the photos that I take on my trips-a necessity for long term travel. At times like this, a rather short trip it is not worth bringing my laptop. Therefore for Christmas I picked up a wireless keyboard, and can use my phone as a storage device-relying on bluetooth technology. I am currently typing this post on the keyboard and phone combo and am ready to be able to blog from where the water is warm and free. (I will have to backdate everything, akin to this time last year when I did not have an internet connection due to the Egyptian Government throwing their country into the stone age)

Caveat: Ian, why don't you just hand write it?

My handwriting is atrocious, and I have an extra battery, so this will work fine without having to retype it all out. Plus I am significantly faster on a keyboard (even this new folding one) than I am with a pen and paper.

Fins Up!

2011-12-27T09:35:00.000-08:00

*Crack* Clank (of bottle cap)*Fizz*…”Fin’s up!”

The Landshark Lager kisses my lips in what is probably my favorite post to tell you about (without being shot at.) In honor of my fascination with Jimmy Buffett, sailing, travel, and rum, I looked into a way to change my latitudes and attitude this winter. My father and are will be heading for a week to the Grenadines (look it up) southeast of disorder (southern Caribbean.)

This will be the farthest south I have ever been, and if my astronomical calculations are correct, should allow me to see the Southern Cross (a Crosby Stills Nash and Young song, with a wonderful cover, by the mayor of Margarittaville himself.) I have never gotten to fully appreciate the Southern Caribbean. I had the opportunity to for my last graduation present, but the needs to the State Department outweigh family time on a cruise ship. Therefore I am stoked to head down there.

I will be learning to sail. By learning I mean I will be in an intensive class which will result in certification to charter a boat (Captain Weller, at your service.) So far the island has been getting hit with 20knot winds (Christmas Winds) which means I will learn a lot very quickly. The classroom will be a step up from my Hobie Cats on Gray’s Lake; a 40+ foot sailboat.

This will allow me to live out most of my fantasy’s as a pirate. The outfit we are going through is called Barefoot Sailing School. I will have more on the trip as I prep in the upcoming week. Till then,

Fins up!

Dec 7th...

2011-12-07T06:15:00.000-08:00

Two years ago today I walked into an office. I saw a photograph of the USS Arizona Memorial hanging on the wall. Next to it was the USS Missouri…

She only talked about it once. I wish I would have asked more. She passed away when I was in grade school. She told us a story about how she was mad at the Navy for running a drill on a Sunday morning. As she wheeled her hurt charges out onto the patio, she could hear the planes come low over the pass. They were so low, she could see the pilots, who tipped their wings as they waved. Then they saw the red meatball, and shortly after heard the sounds and sirens from the harbor below…

I walked into the Navy office two years ago on December 7^th 2009 to start the process of becoming a Naval Officer. On December 17^th 2010, I took my oath. That was the same day as my grandmother’s, who served at Pearl, birthday. My grandmother passed away when I was in 5^thgrade, in 2001. It is in part of her memory and the memory of the date which will live in infamy, to which I will take my commission as a Naval officer.

Puttin' on the Ritz

2011-12-05T16:51:00.001-08:00

This last week has been a whirlwind of fraternity experiences, culminating in my initiation and the chartering of the chapter. This has taken us more than two years and it was positively a highlight of my Drake experience. I have learned many things along the way, which did not cease, even as I prepared for our banquet. One of our founders, Andrew Alexander Kroeg, Jr. is sporting a bowtie in the iconic photograph associated with the fraternity’s founding. In true respect to our founders and roots of the South, many of our men decided to sport the same. I distinctly remember two other times having to wear a bowtie (both proms.) I remember asking my dad about tying them and he said just get a clip on. I also remember reading a James Bond book, in which Ian Fleming distinctly stated “Bond never wore a clip on.” Therefore I would not wear one.

I really like wearing one. I was not worried about having to check the length of my tie, nor was I getting it stuck in food. I also did not have to tuck it in or throw it over my shoulder. Bowties are still at the stage of penetration at Drake that people notice when one is styling it and bring compliment to the wearer. They have definitely taken off with the pervasiveness of Greek culture websites dominating 34^th street, and are continuing to spread.

I learned to tie my bowties from the following website:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJv4Qh7zR3E

One

2011-11-30T14:37:00.000-08:00

I just finished the hardest essay I have done in school. It was supposed to be thorough (i.e. 20ish pages) for a class regarding the Israel Palestinian conflict. We were given the choice of topics (and having a last name like Weller, meant I got last pick) and then the professor picked what side we would take. The topic I was writing on was who was more to blame for the failure of the Syrian and Israeli peace talks. The side I was assigned was one I did not agree with, which is what made the paper so hard but quite interesting to try to argue. I had to use, to quote my favorite play Inherit the Wind an “agile mind.” We were given constraints and that has made all the difference…

Drake offered a photography class during my fall junior semester. During that class we watched a video, and then I bought the book it was based on. A photographer was allowed to take one photograph a day. The work he put in for the constraints he was given was amazing.

That photographer is referenced in a post I found reading through one of my favorite photography blogs http://www.alesserphotographer.com/post/11433113456/chased-by-constraints

Try constraining yourself in your creative process and see what unfolds.

These are a few of my favorite things

2011-11-30T14:18:00.001-08:00

I mention a distaste for the acquiring of stuff. Nothing will reveal this more when one has to move all their stuff into a dorm room, as I did my freshman year to Morehouse Hall. The only other time I have had to pair down to the essentials was to put everything in one suitcase for international living. I distinctly remember laying it all out in my living room and trying to take stuff out that wasn’t posivetly essential or couldn’t hold up. When I was thinking about those times, as well as the Black Friday issues, I started to come up with the things I have held onto which have lasted me to a point that I am happy with their performance. These aren’t in any particular order:

Macbook pro (2008): I bought the computer on which I have written almost every single post on this site during my senior year of high school. It has travelled all over the world with me, from the pyramids, the wonders of Amman, castles in Prague, to sand dunes in Muscat, to conferences all over the US. I still have the same battery (which does get warm) and the same power chargers. It has held up and I can count the number of times I have had to restart it on one hand. Owning this computer has made me a mac fan for life. (It is bulky and heavy by current standards, so will become a regaled to a desk upon my first deployment when I will grab something smaller, more lightweight and new.

Pacsafe computer bag (2008): “I’m heading to the Middle East, and need a computer bag, what do you have” I asked the salesman. He gave me a funny look, and we walked away from the bags emblazoned with Badger logos. This pack is slash proof, and can be locked to anything. The strap is knife proof, and only broke this year. However I still use a handhold, and do so almost every day. When I went home for thanksgiving, I packed my computer in the pocket, my notes in another, two books and a charger along with a change of clothes in the rest. One bag travel, but with a laptop bag. I should probably get the strap fixed one of these days.

Orange Northface Jacket (2006): “we will be in a rainforest, you and your brother need rain jackets.” I was puzzled about our Alaska adventure. I knew there was precipitation up there, but I assumed it was the snow kind. However there were times we experienced heavy rain, and high winds. The, in my opinion rather stylish jacket, kept me warm. I also had it in Jordan the first time, and it kept me warm in a cold desert camp. It continues to keep me dry and warm to this day, and I have used it all through college. I also felt extra cool as I bought it the summer before North Face fleeces became super popular in high school. Trendsetter.

Bose Computer Speakers (2005): I remember answering the “what did you get for Christmas” question to a quizzical look. “You got speakers?” Nice speakers. The Aston Martin of speakers. I am a huge audiophile and almost always have Pandora, spotify, itunes, or youtube stations playing. Though my band never hit it big, I have always taken great joy and use out of my speakers. They have come to every domestic living quarters I have had.

Fender Bass Guitar (2002): Speaking of my band, I have had the same guitar since 7^thgrade. The strings definitely haven’t lasted but it is has been put through heavy use. At one point I had guitar lessons, Jazz band practice, jazz combo practice, rock band stuff, worship band practice and performance, and church band, all in the same week. I don’t play nearly as much in college but living out of the dorms has given me room to keep it and pick it up from time to time. I also haven’t travelled with it as much (World Tour anyone?) as the other things but I intend to keep using it for a long time.

What has served you for a long period of time?

Happiness is...

2011-11-27T14:33:00.000-08:00

“Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from the store. Maybe Christmas means a little bit more.”

“26 Billion was spent today…” Local news, immediately followed by stories of shootings and a lady pepper spraying people at a walmart or deals.

I got up around 8 and started cleaning on Black Friday, convinced to try to make my own Friday holiday. I ended up donating 3 bags of clothes and shoes. Don’t get me wrong I liked looking at the ads the night before. I still appreciate the concept of designing some of these really cool and useful new things (side note: I am stoked to get through a skymall magazine tomorrow as I fly back to DSM, and was excited for my brother to get what looks to a wonderful new phone)

The night before, as people were starting to line up at the stores I was in my bed. I laughed my girlfriend on the phone. I read a little bit. I worked on homework. I cleaned. I tried to do as many things as possible that either got rid of junk or did not produce it. We listened to Christmas music as a family and went out to eat.

My mom and brother went out early black Friday to do some errands (like getting glasses fixed while home from college) and shopping. (They got me a watch, which I am thankful for.) They said it wasn’t terribly hectic at 6am, probably because people had stayed up. We debated what would be the effects? Will stores stay open, forcing workers to leave their families on the holiday, and then maybe close at 2am next year? Will workers continue to rebel as target employees did? What burden are we willing to put on others for minimum wage so we can save some money on a tv?

What happens to all the other stuff, the old tvs, the not as new phones? (google 60minutes e-waste if you want to see.)

I don’t know if true happiness comes from stuff. I am truly happy thankful for my family, my friends, my experiences with them. Drake means the world to me, not because of what I have learned from a book, but because of the people I have met, the places I have been, and the professors who have honestly taken me under wing, hell-bent on teaching me useful things and new ways to wrestle with issues. These are things we can’t wake up to shop for, these are things which can’t come from a store.

GO RUCK (Challenge) Yourself

2011-11-21T14:00:00.000-08:00

Finals week is fast approaching. For my cohorts of IR/Poli Sci majors, that means papers. Big papers. 10, 15, 20 page papers. It really is not that long as we have had all semester to do it (and for once I am on top of my game, having laid out much of what I intend to do on large sheets of butcher paper in my room. The topics I am writing on get a few concerned looks from my housemates who saw the underlined titles of “Piracy” “Syria and Israel (Israel’s fault)” and “Killing.” The first is for globalization, the 2^nd was assigned by the prof for Arab Israeli Conflict, and the final is for my psychology of aggression class and focuses on the research of Lt. Col Grossman in the book On Killing.

This marathon of double spaced, cited, edited, torn apart, reassembled and title paged academia I am producing allows for some free time of internet wandering (25 mins productive, 5 min break. Rinse. Repeat.) One of the more interesting things I found from the Minimal Mac blog I read was a marathon (ish) of Special Operations awesomeness. It is called the GORUCK Challenge. A ruck (or Rucksack) is the backpack used in the military. It allows one to carry what they need in combat. This event, it is not really a race, but a test-your-limits-for-10-hours-suckfest ditches the ammo magazines in favor of bricks…and push ups…and dead weight carry… and buddy carry, all while perusing through a city. Des Moines is in March. I am tempted as I know this would be a great way to get my training in gear for OCS.

It's my job

2011-11-17T19:28:00.001-08:00

Drake has given me plenty of opportunities to support my social spending habits. Since day one I have done this job (blogger) interspersed with a few others. I was a front desk worker at Crawford for a year while I was a Resident Assistant there. My junior year I asked my counselor Ryan if he knew of anyone who was hiring. Within a day I had a job at the admissions office doing data entry. I am finishing up that job after being there a year and half to conduct another for my final semester.

Drake is adding a J-term. I am now employed to help build a program which streamlines professors abilities to conduct a jterm international experience. These will not just be courses, but full fledged experiences. In theory if a pharmacy professor gets an idea to take students to learn about flora and fauna of Antigua, she comes to us and we have the whole process slick and packaged. The goal is to get as many students abroad as possible. Drake students will taste the international flavor, they will feel the waves beneath their feet, surrounded by their friendships and professors in ways that only Drake can provide.

The part I am most excited for: in conjunction with the above, I am helping to plan an actual experience…on leadership…at sea…in the Bahamas. I got this job under the guiding hand of Dr. Westbrook. I am supporting his vision of putting Bulldog students on a twin-masted clipper (think pirates of the Caribbean or Master and Commander movies) for a week of leadership and sail training. I will be on a slightly larger vessel at the time (Go Navy!) and thus will not be able to participate, but it is becoming a very exciting time to be at Drake.

Veteran's day

2011-11-14T07:12:00.000-08:00

Normally I take offense when people do not uncover indoors, doubly so at the dinner table (“Ian, Garrett hats off!” “Yes Mom.”) However this was different. They all had worn other hats, and had followed the strict rules which went along with those hats. On Friday they were wearing baseball caps. These caps said different things: Khe Sanh, Korea Vet, Vietnam Vet, Navy, Army, Marines, Air Force, OIF, 34th ID, WWII VET. Sweatshirts also adorned the seated with the same logos. A PFC came in with and immediately saluted two captains, all in ACUs as they waited for their names to be called. As I walked from the back end of Texas Roadhouse, one of the many restaurants in the Des Moines area honoring veterans with a free meal on Veterans Day, I swelled with pride. The stories these men and women could share. The sacrifice they had made, and the thanks a restaurant was showing them…was an amazing experience.

Zoot suit riot

2011-11-10T10:34:00.001-08:00

I had dinner with a friend last night. She remarked that in the time we were hanging out, she could have ran a half marathon (Thank you Drake’s all-you-can-eat dining experience. Food should be social!) We talked about everything and anything, including one of my more cocky moments…

When I was in 9^th grade I needed a suit for a career class job shadow. I was going to be shadowing a State Senator, and thus found myself needing a suit. I remember my father and the salesman telling me about which button options I had and a whole slew of other French sounding terms. I picked a three piece. After I picked it my dad looked at me and said “sometimes, always, never.” This was the way to button my options, to maintain the look of professionalism.

When I got slightly older, I became a big fan of two button blazers. There is something about the fit that just brings out confidence in me. The rule with these buttons was “Always, Never.” One never buttons the bottom on a two buttoned blazer, it just looks wrong.

I had a very young professor a few weeks back demonstrate how to give our final presentations. He had come in wearing a new suit. He mentioned that he got the suit for his job interviews coming up at a big state university in Ohio. He is just an adjunct here, and was picked up as the original professor took very sick right before the semester started. I like him, and think he will do great. There is limited chance he will go fulltime at Drake, and his dream school is in Ohio.

He made a big deal about making sure we look professional in our presentations. His suit was pressed and sharp. He stood up to give the presentation and immediately buttoned both of the buttons on his two button jacket. I cringed. I do not consider myself a slave to fashion at all (in fact I complain about people wearing topsiders who have never been topside.) However this was a sin against basic male dressing, something I felt might damage his chances of getting the job.

After class got out I waited around to pack up. We walked down to the main floor where there is a large glass entryway. The glass was immaculately clean, and reflective. I asked if I could speak to him in private and motioned to the glass. He said absolutely with a concerned look on his face, asking me if everything was okay. (I am the only non-major in this specific class and struggle with some of the material.)

I said I was fine, but I wanted to show him something. I asked him to put on his jacket and button it as he did in the class. Then I requested him to point, as if he was repeating something he had said in the presentation. He did, and I said “you see how that looks really awkward?” He wholeheartedly agreed, and so I told him how to fix it by only having one of his buttons used. That immediately made the suit fit better and he looked more relaxed.

My dinner date and I go back in forth about whether it is appropriate to tell a professor they are dressed wrong. Normally I do not care how professors dress (and almost all of mine have tenure.) This professor was just starting out, and was about to have one of the most important interviews of his life. I am a senior, full of way too much confidence, and therefore saw no qualms with pulling him aside privately. Had I done it in the middle of the class, in front of my peers, the results would have been horrific for saving face (and possibly my grade.)

This is the culture we have at Drake. We help each other out. Generally it is the professors helping us out, but every once in awhile, after developing a large amount of confidence through the Drake experience, we students look out for ours profs.

crying

2011-11-06T15:11:00.000-08:00

I was talking to one of my professors a few days ago their summer travel. Drake sends a lot of students abroad with Drake professors during the summer. That professor mentioned a student whom I was familiar with. With great pride, they let it slip that upon informing the group that he would be taking the spring semester off to spend much time outside of the country working on research, the gal cried. I take great pride in the relationships we have with our professors. It was amazing to hear that this gal thought so highly of the prof they were upset that she wouldn’t be able to talk or learn from him in the classroom setting.

My love of a small school was increased yet again yesterday. There are a few military types in one of my classes and we were talking about the art of shooting. The professor overheard this, and said they had never fired a weapon before. We immediately set up a chance to take him to the gun range. I can’t imagine this happening at many of the larger universities many f my high school friends attend.

In other news I registered yesterday, for the last time of my undergraduate career. I only have class on Monday and Wednesday, from noon on. Meaning I will have plenty of time to study Navy stuff, get in shape, and maybe pick up some more hours or another job.

A pirate's look at 22

2011-11-01T05:57:00.001-07:00

“I need to go to the hospital. I broke my nose.”

“Ok, I am on my way.”

A vastly different way than I thought I would spend my 22^nd birthday. I spent the better part of the actual morning celebrating my birth in the hospital with my best friend. Fittingly he celebrated the festivities of Halloween as the game Operation. The doctors loved him. However we spent a lot of time in the emergency room (2am to 6am) which allowed for some reflection on the last year.

This time last year, I was setting up for one thing; my semester abroad in Egypt. I knew from my French teachers in grade school that I would study abroad for a semester in college. The parts of my life I consider most interesting (Jordan 1 and post) were all training to do the full semester in a place as different as Egypt. I had done two summer long stints in Jordan in 2007, and 2008, and had gotten the short trip dance taken care of with numerous conferences and a three week study session travelling around Egypt. However there would be a big punctuation before I would leave for the Arab world. This exclamation point would take the form of an anchor. I was offered a position with the United States Navy on the last day of the Fall semester, sending my life down a very different path from what I went into my previous year with. I was then ready to take the plunge, to fully immerse myself in Alexandria, Egypt and fall in love with the sea. My last post before I left was from a Jimmy Buffett (whom I have become borderline infatuated with in the past year) song:

“Reading departures signs in some big airport reminds me of the places I’ve been…Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure make me want to go back again!”

So I will.

See you in the Sandbox!

And I went. And had a wonderful time. The first night I was there I walked to the Nile. I watched the sun set over the old city, as hookah smoke tangoed above my head and below the Arabian stars. However things would not be as they seemed. The country I intended to fall in love with as on it’s own course. The Arab Spring would become a defining moment in my life, and has provided me great insight.

And like that first crack from the authorities gun, I was off like a pinball for a quick stay in Prague, where I yet again learned the power of patience and an easy going attitude. I found myself in a country where I once again had to look up exactly where it was. Oman was different. I never thought I would end up there, and can’t say it was all fun and games. But I learned there. I learned Arabic, I learned photography, I learned solo travel, I learned that faces are so much more interesting than trees, sunsets, and buildings. Above all I learned to understand myself. I learned to not long for consumption, to travel light and look for the best in situations.

The tumultuous semester eventually found me walking off a plane to those I love. It was an absolute thrill to see my parents after undoubtedly putting them through a rather stressful semester. It was just as pleasing to see friends and a gal whose company I have enjoyed for the better part of my Drake career.

Taking my love of beaches and at this point life’s soundtrack of Jimmy to heart, I took a job living in Des Moines sailing. This was the first time I had ever lived in the US without being in school or with my parents. I finished off a basement with the help of my fraternity brothers and had a wonderfully fun summer. I read, hung out, got into trouble and then got out of it. It was a positively wonderful way to spend my last summer of civilian life.

I learned and then taught sailing. I had friends out on a Hobie Cat almost every week. I spent countless hours before and after work tacking and jibing up and down Gray’s Lake. I watched sunset after sunset from a dock and reaffirmed my love for Iowa.

I witnessed my brother graduating and head for college in Minnesota. I got to relive some of the entering freshman angst through him, fondly reminiscing.

I spent one of the top three nights of my life with a beautiful woman seeing the man in concert who along with Steve Job’s ipod, kept my spirits up and wanderlust flowing.

And now I am a senior. 22 years old. By this time next year I will have a degree, and be an Ensign in the United States Navy. I may be underway back to the Middle East. Before the next birthday I will have undergone one of the most challenging and grueling experiences I will face: Officer Candidate School. A lot can and will still happen before then, and it is always good to have a crew. I will continue writing this as long as I have interesting things happening. Come along, and welcome aboard.

The funny man

2011-10-26T11:05:00.000-07:00

“Ian, do you want to listen to the funny man?”

A very prepubescent response “sure Dad.”

There were many Saturday evenings that went like that when my father would turn on the radio. We were generally driving back from dinner or a movie, and then I would hear that voice…

It was a voice that taught me many of my foundational things: republicans were bad, the church was good, and life was a little slower on the lake. After the news was finished with the line “all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average” I would be transported to a dark mystery of Guy Noir. There was something rhythmic and soothing about the voice, which made me laugh at some of the same jokes my father laughed at, thus making me feel smart and connected.

I had no idea what that voice looked like for a long time. I filled in the character. In Sunday school we would hear stories about God talking, I assumed God sounded like the voice I heard from “the funny man.”

Years later when the movie A Prairie Home Companion was released I saw what that voice actually looked like. Yesterday, I got to shake that voices hand.

Drake hosted Garrison Keillor yesterday for the Bucksbaum Lecture, a time every semester when we play host to some of the most influential people of the day. Maya Angelou, Ambassador Pickering, Ken Burns, Bill Bryson have all graced the Blue stage. Keillor is hilarious, in a kind of comedy that is unmatched. He started out singing and then went into poetry, and finished off as he does so well with telling stories.

I like his stories. I like stories. I take a great deal of joy from being able to tell stories, and one of the tenants, the foundations of my life is to have good stories. Upon leaving Oman I made a list I keep on my mobile for when I am bored or when people ask, of stories that I was a part of in Oman. Drake allowed me the chance to create story after story for myself, and yesterday gave me the chance to meet and listen to the master.

OccupyDSM (This Land is Your Land...)

2011-10-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings:

This land is your land, this land is my land

From California, well, to the New York Island

From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters

I tell you, This land was made for you and me

As I went walking down that ribbon of highway

I saw above me that endless skyway

Now I saw below me that golden valley

And I said: This land was made for you and me.

As I was walking, they try to stop me,

They put up a sign that said, it said "Private Property."

Well, on the back side, you know it said nothing!

So, it must be that side was made for you and me.

One bright sunny morning, well, in the shadow of a steeple;

Down by the welfare office, I saw my people.

You know, they stood hungry; I stood wondering,

I was wondering if this land made was for you and me?

This land is your land, this land is my land

From Riverside, California, to the Staten Island

Well, oh, down to Modesto, Georgia, don't forget to say Philadelphia, oh

we moving on down to Mississippi, Houston, Texas, ah LA,

you know,This land is your land, this land is my land.

This land is your land

You've got to believe, This my land

This land was made for you and me

Steve

2011-10-13T09:09:00.000-07:00

My relationship with Steve Jobs started like most good relationships: introduced by a pretty girl. I had an mp3 played (called an Iriver-no affiliation to ipod) which was more or less an AA battery holder and a headphone jack. Long strands of grass stood no chance between me, my mower and my music. However one time I went driving with a gal who had an ipod. This was the size of a large cell phone, black and white text, but contained countless songs. I was fascinated. I then went home and went in on one with my father for our road trips (no more mixing tapes or trying to burn CDs from .wav files for us!) I think we might still have that ipod wired into his car.
One of the collections my father has is CDs. He has multiple shelves, full of floor to ceiling CDs with almost every artist and genre one could think of. (This created interesting conversations when we saw what it took to make a CD as he has, and I was all for Napstering/Kazaa/Limewire-stealing of music) When we bought the Ipod, we had to set up our itunes account. Which meant while working on homework on one computer, I was uploading every CD he had (insert, rip, eject. Rinse, repeat. ) over and over and over. Nowadays, Jobs has created jobs for companies who will do that process for you. My father had a high school kid with a lack of desire to complete math homework.
I got a little older, and met an even prettier gal. This meant long trips driving, and I had a need to set the mood from time to time. Thank you Steve Jobs for enabling to do so, with my own ipod (which just died this weekend-more on that later)
We spent so much time listening to music that for one of the obligatory gift giving holidays I saw it fit to get her an ipod (she did not have one) engraved with her name on it. My line of thinking was that every time she listened to music I would cross her mind. We don’t talk much anymore, but the ipod still works. I remember the gift being a huge deal, and feeling great pride for having worked the extra hours to enhance someone’s joy of music.
On every big race I have ever run, I have had my trusty ipod helping me keep smiling and keeping time. I always felt excellent when Living on a Prayer” was timed just right in my playlist to hit at the “halfway there” mark. I also am notorious for singing that song in (hopefully) the middle. It also made me smile during the doldrums (the 60 to 87% of the race.) I remember distinctly listening to the Army Strong song as I finished Des Moines Marathon last year, shortly before passing out.
I had a real sweet place list for chicagos marathon last Sunday. At least I thought I did. I got through a few miles only to figure out that my playlist had not uploaded correctly. No biggie though, I was still using my DSM one. Then just after the halfway point (bonjovi has passed me, as I was much slower) silence. Fittingly matching the creator, my ipod just stopped working. I tried to fix it (no small feat while running a marathon, trying not to run anyone over) much like the doctors probably did. Then I said forget about and proceeded to look for the two people I knew in the race (to no luck.) I sang songs in my head, lots ot songs, I took in the sights, and smiled at the cheer squads. I ran free and true, just as I imagine Steve Jobs is doing now in Apple Heaven.

School Days

2011-08-23T06:19:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was the first last day of my undergraduate education. Many of my friends are PMACs (first year mentors) who guided groups of less than 20 around campus for the welcome weekend activities. I was a little envious of their position, knowing they have four years left here. I only have until the beginning of summer before my career starts.
There is a vibrancy around campus with the new first year class. Much discussion can be overheard about Greek Life (Rush Pi Kapp!) dorm life, classes and from the guys, the rather enjoyable and higher percentage of ladies than in previous years. New faces grace campus, along with some old ones I haven’t seen for a long time. There were a few folks who went abroad the semester before I did, and therefore I haven’t seen some of them for over a year. Drake students tend to be a very open bunch, so from halfway across the commons or down a hallway someone will scream “Hey, your alive! What’s it like to not be getting shot at?” This generally causes mass confusion in whatever group (they still are in groups) of first years that are in between me and my greeter.
I have my first politics class today, which I am excited for. The politics and IR department profs kept a close eye on me and my travels so I have been looking forward to seeing them. On Friday I have my favorite professor, who is from Egypt. In the class is also my travel companion Amina. I imagine the jokes the professor makes will be pretty good.
I adjusted well this summer. I spent much time, including my last evening before the sun went down on my free summers, sailing around Gray’s Lake. I am ready to take on the year, and then the fleet.
-A Future “Bulldog at Sea”

Impacts

2011-06-16T05:53:00.000-07:00

A fair amount has happened since returning to the US. My brother graduated from high school. I have caught up with many of my friends including many opportunities to experience the 21+ libations Oman failed to include. I haven’t done the whole reverse culture “it’s so much better over there” feeling that my colleagues sometimes express upon returning from Norway, France and Spain. It is not better in Oman, and many times is downright frustrating, but it is different.
That difference, and my knowledge of has probably been the hardest part. The other evening I met up with one of my friends from the trip at a place which boasted a large selection of beer. He is the foremost expert on the Dhofari insurgency, and I think I am pretty well versed in most of the country. This woman still proceeded to judge us and imply we lacked culture because of the particular beer we chose. We both have a massive wealth of information about a subject which I don’t want to say is useless, but rather dormant right now. However I have gotten to use it briefly at lunches and graduation parties when I feel fully confident giving an opinion on the Arab Spring. It is an odd feeling though, going from full immersion in a society to almost entirely turning it off.

Most of my blog posts were still saved in a folder called Egypt blogs (even when I was in Oman.) All things must change, and having been stateside for 3 weeks now (Had I stayed in Egypt, I would have returned this past weekend, and still would probably be jet lagged.) Now I get to start a direction for this blog.

Today is the first day I start work, without a car...

Last day in Oman

2011-05-15T06:16:00.001-07:00

I am writing this looking at my backyard. It is green. This morning I went to breakfast with my father. We ran into our preacher and other church friends. I had to wear a jacket because it was cold. On the last day in Oman, is was 102…
I got up early to say goodbye to folks. I went one last time to my barbers, who on a weekly basis had a razor to my neck. They also continually gave me the best shaves of my life. The little things like that keep us sane.
I wandered over to the beach, and put my feet in until the rolling tide was up to my shorts. 20 minutes in the salt water listening to Iz-Over the rainbow, Eagles-Take it to the limit, and Jimmy Buffett’s Take Another Road. On my way back I stopped at my Baskin Robin’s and had a long chat with the man who works there. I had seen him every week for my indulgence in Americana and he was genuinely sad to hear I was leaving.
I ended up with our friends from Salalah, Amina, and our director Issam at a shisha café on the beach. I was able to watch the sun drop into the Arabian Gulf and say my final goodbyes to friends and leaders who I will treasure forever.

Which begs the question now what?

There were women at the café this morning. It wasn’t rude that I did not wish peace upon all of the breakfast goers when I entered. I had a beer for dinner last night, I told stories and talked of politics. I started laundry and packing for my next excursion (a lovely French sounding city called Des Moines.)

I miss you

2011-05-08T02:49:00.000-07:00

There are always the basics I am excited to see when I return: friends, family, the important things.
However I have given some thought to what else I am excited for which in turn is things I appreciate about where I hail from:
The ability to drive. I have not driven a car since January 18th, 2011. This in turn means my mobility is limited to the kindness of others, or the mood I am in to negotiate with taxi drivers. (Driving is also insane here, and no one has the insurance to back me.)
Being in shape. I know traveling abroad is not an excuse to get out of shape, and I haven’t gained a lot of weight. However I had completed a marathon shortly before I left, and had been in pretty solid condition. Here it is either annoying difficult to run while conservatively covered in the heat, dangerous to do it at night lacking running trails. At Drake I also have a gym, which is easy to get to. In my area there isn’t a ton of possibilities, and I have been doing pushups but it will be nice to get my heart rate up again.
Food. Specifically knowing I am going to get what I ordered. The food is good here, though the variety lacks unless you are willing to pay big bucks and most importantly ordering is the equivalent of Russian roulette. I am ordering off of an Arabic menu, to a hindi waiter who may be talking to a Malaysian cook.
Alcohol. Okay maybe not specific tastes but the ability to have a beer at night is nice, and now that I put in my 21 years of time, I can do it, whenever I want in many states. It is a nice social setting, and one that you can have here only in a hotel (expensive,) but most of the places are rather shady and contain women (not the kind I mention below) of ill repute.
Sleep. My sleep is generally interrupted by a sun that bakes the flat roof above my head. This is fine when the average day includes a nap (I don’t generally get to take) and then restarts and goes till 2 am. My bed and I will undoubtedly have a great reunion.
The other gender. Are there women here? I think so. I mean there are these creatures in black that wear really nice smelling perfume and pretty colors on their heads. I see them interact with each other, but they are off limits to me. I imagine the first time I see a woman back home that I can interact with I will be at a loss for words and probably just stare. Greg and I were living in Salalah and took great joy that a fully covered woman asked us how we were (kaifick?) That has been the extent of my female communication with women I am not living or studying with.

Life's a Beach

2011-05-04T03:10:00.001-07:00

I have never walked to school before. It was about 5 and half miles. I knew that it was possible, and today didn’t have to be at school for a few hours. I took the road down to the beach, popped in my ipod earbuds, strapped my sandals to my pack and headed to school. The Shamal wind was blowing, so what should have been a hot day, became breezy, and the waves at my feet kept me cool. It was wonderful. 4 miles through the rolling waves of the beach as Iz, the Eagles and Jimmy Buffett serenaded me. Add this to the “my life is awesome” moments. (one of my friends, responding to this on facebooksaid it best: I guess you could say it was "upchill" both ways **puts on sunglass** YYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHH.)
We have had seen little fallout from the Osama death. I was in a taxi yesterday and a Pakistani man got in behind me. He asked (in Arabic) what the Omani driver thought of all of it. The driver shrugged. The Pakistani then asked what the American or Englishman thought. The driver responded with the same shrug. I coolly replied “I’m Canadian.” That seemed to shut up him.
I have a weekly ritual of 31 flavors combining like an angelic chorus for my peanut butter and chocolate shakes. The proprietor of said establishment and I have become acquainted over these many weeks. He is Indian and was jubilant about killing Osama. He was quick to point how much we were giving the Pakistanis, who he alleged were using all that gear and money to fight the Indians. I said I wasn’t entirely sure. He quickly changed the conversation to give very strong warning that I not go into the villages, that I say I am German, and not wander around at night. I was pleased with how much he cared for my safety.
I am safe. Every time I have been outside of the US, I run a risk of something happening. However if I stayed behind, I wouldn’t be half as effective in my career, nor happy with my life. I still stand a much higher chance of dying in a car accident (both domestically and internationally) than I do from anything evil. However I am maintaining vigilance and staying in Muscat.
We roll in 8 days and I will be home in under 10!

Osama and Me

2011-05-02T05:39:00.000-07:00

I was in the hotel room on Monday at 8:30am, when I was woken up from one of my friends saying “Bin Ladens dead.”
“What?” I groggily replied.
The news report had paraphrased the President’s speech stating the details. I checked my phone and had a message from a close friend telling me the same.
I remember, still laying down, looking up at the ceiling and saying “now what?”
We checked to make sure nothing had happened to Israel, then we checked other sources without getting much detail. The Embassy was put on alert over here and issued a cautionary message. As I drove in a bus across the city, I could feel my American flag pin digging into my shoulder from my pack. For security reasons, I had to hide it, but it was comforting to know it was there. I felt great pride in my country, and in the men and women I know who were over there.
My father asked me what I thought of all of it. I am still not sure. My relationship with Osama started like many others: on that fateful September Tuesday sitting in a 6th grade classroom watching my world change. A few years later I was part of a team in Jordan, learning Arabic to be of use someday to make sure the atrocities didn’t happen again. I found myself leading a team the following summer in Jordan again, before pursuing a degree in international relations. (I originally had wanted to be a lawyer, but my time abroad changed that.) I went to Drake University, knowing they were picking up a new Middle Eastern studies professor, and had a good Arabic program. I ended up with that professor in Egypt last summer, and then headed back for the semester. There I witnessed more significant change, and ended up in an obscure country called Oman where I sit planning my trip back to the US.
It’s weird knowing the first domino of what I call life came because of someone I never would meet. On the first day of Mrs. Brey’s Modern Global Studies class, she asked us who was the one person either living or passed that we would want to talk to. The Deadhead in the class said Jimmy Page. Lincoln was a popular choice, along with Mandela and Gandhi. I said Bin Laden, when she gave me a quizzical look, I replied “to simply ask why?”
Now that the why cannot be answered, it is still just as important. I am eternally thankful he is gone, and rejoiced with the news. An Englishman in the hotel greeted me with “did you hear the news, it’s nice that there is one less baddie in the world.” I agree, wholeheartedly. We need to make sure this kind of stuff doesn’t happen again. Our foreign policy, and domestic policies need to continue to ensure our safety. I honestly believe that if we hadn’t botched the Afghanistan cleanup against the Soviets, Bin Laden would not have had a home. Something made him tick, and something made enough people agree to follow such twisted distortions of a very beautiful religion. We need to make sure that sort of stuff doesn’t happen again.
Most of the “cool/interesting” stuff in my life came down because of one evil man . I am a forged part of my nations response. After school I will continue the work with a commission in the United States Navy. I don’t know what will come up in the next few years. I do know that we will be ready with whatever diplomacy to prevent and whatever force is necessary to avenge.

‎"I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."
-Mark Twain

Down By the Bay

2011-05-01T03:23:00.000-07:00

I am down in Mutrah, which is on the other side of the city, has a wonderful souk, and a cool corniche (walking area by the sea.) The days are limited and I am already planning my assimilation back into society via a Brewers home game with my father. I am not excited for two 9 hour flights home I have to take. (Long ago, in a land far away called high school, I took a 9 hour to Alaska, and thought that was the longest transportation I would ever take. Now I take 8 hour flights to Europe just to get started on the long hauls down here. Or even better, 12 hour bus rides from Salalah to Muscat.) This morning I thought I lost a major part of my presentation, so took the buses back in the morning, found what I needed and then came back.
I decided all of my frantic running around deserved some time to sit and ponder. I walked to a French restaurant right outside the port. Shell shocked from the high prices I walked back down the corniche to the Indian fastfood shops, where the entire selection is the equivalent of a dollar menu. It is getting really humid here, but the breeze off the Gulf helped. I ate and watched tourists come and go. Everywhere else in the country is shutdown at this time of day, as everyone is napping or enjoying air-conditioning. However some Italians insisted on shopping during the worst part of the day. The one Omani man out at this time exchanged looks with me when their 5 star hotel shuttle bus came to pick them up. He looked at me as if to say “aren’t you going with them?” I stated that no I live here (in arabic) and then went back to my large bottle of water, and book about large bottles of other Caribbean drinks.
Last night Janey and I strolled down the corniche to take pictures (see I am still working, haven’t checked out quite yet :) We found a bunch of couples sitting by a rock formation with some form of Bellagio Vegas inspired water fountains. I set my tripod up, and hope the couples stayed still long enough to get a shot off. I ended up getting a cool sequence, and filled up another page in the book!
Many of the students are heading to other countries after this. Turkey is the most popular. All the charm of the Middle East, with western dress and flowing alcohol. East meets West. I would love to keep moving, but I am just ready to head back. (Its weird, at one point a few months ago, I was almost certain I would be back in Iowa watching snow from a Drake desk. Now I am excited to go and see everyone, tell stories, and just enjoy American life.) I have enough airplane points that I will have a ticket coming my way soon to somewhere in Europe. The last time I intentionally spent time in Europe was sophomore year of high school. Prague was gorgeous so I may want to head back there (spring break 2012?) but have also heard marvelous things about Spain (no speako spanisho) and Portugal. England has also been a draw as I have flown into London countless times, only to wash up, grab a bite and jump on another plane and have never actually left the airport.
When I came back to Muscat yesterday I stopped in to see some folks. These were people I hadn’t been with for awhile, and I tried telling jokes. My voice was slow, and I stumbled through them. I remember this happening after Jordan the first time. I enjoy fast wit immensely and so will be quite excited to catch up on that.

Outposts+Goats

2011-04-25T03:20:00.000-07:00

I found myself in the mountains far from the town of Salalah. I was there with an Omani friend, his father, and his father’s friend. We were there to meet a jabali (person of the mountain) The man was 95 years old and still running up and down mountains. He was a little late when we came in because he was out feeding the camels. It was interesting to see him sit with his grandsons and talk. (The language was Jabali, actually pretty close to Aramaic which I found out later that night-at church) I was there to take pictures of him and his sons, which was also good fun. What struck me the most is how happy he was in this little outpost in the middle of nowhere, with his camels, and family. He also offered to slaughter a goat for us (me) for dinner. I had to refuse as I had someone else to be.
“Do you think we will make it to church on time?”
“Insha Allah”
I cracked up laughing, and then marveled that my friend was asking Allah to get me to church to celebrate Easter. We had spent a fair amount of time the night before telling the Christian version and the Islamic version of Easter and debating on whether it was the same God. (The answer is yes, and not that I think all religious disputes and 2,00 years of fighting should be summed up on this blog, but the difference lies within the interpretation of Jesus and the trinity/and the Prophet, not with the almighty himself.) They also told an interesting version of the death of Jesus I had not heard, and am really disappointed with all the Islamic teachings I have had (generally from Christian American educators) that in Islam Judas was made to look like Jesus and he was killed. I didn’t have time to ask what happened to Jesus, but it was interesting.
When I got to the church I was greeted, while walking in the backdoor of the courtyard “Hi, can I help you?”
“Uh sure is this the church?”
“Yes this is a protestant evangelical English service”
“Perfect” (with the only church within a 12 hours busride, I didn’t have the opportunity to be picky. I also wondered at why the pickiness mattered considering the location.)
I walked into the sanctuary, and was greeted with plastic chairs, and a pastor from Virginia. There were a few other Americans, a British family and a Canadian couple. The large majority though (60ish) were Indian or South East Asian, which made “Come, Now is the Time to Worship” and “Christ the Lord has Risen Today” sound very international. The kids all received Easter baskets. The pastor, who I found out was only a week or two fresh at the church, used American idioms I had missed in my normal conversations (“Christ rising was a game changer!”)
Much like my Jibali friend who lived in an outpost in the mountains, this was a religious outpost. (Imagine how Muslim communities must feel in the States?) The Christians also invited me to break bread with them (score for the communion, although wine is a little hard to attain in this country) and join the potluck after the service. I wondered if they were slaughtering goats?

When the Saints go marching in...

2011-04-23T02:06:00.000-07:00

Salalah, Oman April 22-Yesterday we heard there would be protests. In the shower that morning I could hear a loudspeaker projecting someone who was getting very animated. We followed that noise (after I put on clothes-not straight from the shower) and ended up on a corner, watching the protestors rally. We cased the backside of the movement as we were white kids with big cameras…we stuck out jut a tad. As we moved in closer, the protestors started to march. A man advised us it was best we leave. He advised us in flawless English and without a heavy Arab accent. We had heard Oman’s internal security forces keep an eye on the protests in Sohar, and that one had spent some time stateside. With that information we moved away from him quickly.
Then I took off down a back alley to get ahead of the marchers and once again asked a guy to come use his balcony (sound familiar?) to take photos. I counted about 300 to 500 protestors. Contrary to the Al Jazeera article http://english.aljazeera.net/news/middleeast/2011/04/201142215140646886.html We did not see the troops or the 3,000 protestors Reuters spotted.
We also, and more importantly, didn’t see flags. This is a huge contrast from the Egyptian revolution, where flags were prominent. So far these protests aren’t about basic human rights. Some talk about bribery and removing some of the leadership (not the Sultan, they love him.) However many of the protests across the country have been about cushy jobs. There are jobs here, they just require one to get a little dirty.
It was strange yesterday to have the same feelings I had from times in Egypt. I vividly recall racing ahead of a protest group to try to get to an elevated position. This is what I got:

Three.

2011-04-21T00:15:00.001-07:00

Yesterday marked my three months out. This is the longest time I have been outside of the US. It was also three weeks and three days until I return.
I am getting pretty good at the transitioning aspect of all of this. I will be at my home for a few days, before packing again, and moving to spend the summer the in Des Moines.
I have already done some brief packing (mostly souvenirs.) It’s an odd feeling being able to pack up ones life in a backpack and suitcase. However it is exhilarating, knowing if need be I could stop in any city along the way and live for another few months (I won’t; I miss the people, and cheeseburgers, but Rome, Prauge, Paris, Madrid all look tempting.) There is a scene from George Clooney’s Up in the Air when he talks about putting all of your possessions in a backpack. I did, and some of it is probably still holed up in a 7th floor apartment in Kfr Abdu, Alexandria.
I have done some great ISP work. I put my first draft of the photobook (my final project) came together yesterday. It was cool to imagine seeing my name on a book cover. Thanks to the wonders of Iphoto Books and services like lulu.com this is quickly becoming a hardcover reality.
My final morning in Ibri sent me back to the souk. I walked down the street with an 80 year old man named Hamid. He was 5 feet tall and in a bright yellow dishdasha. We made quite a sight walking to the goat auction. I liked Ibri a lot. I could take pictures of everyone at the goat auction (men walk around a circle of potential buyers screaming prices while the goats are pulled along on a leash.) The hotel was getting far too expensive, and I had most of the photowork done (but going back in a week for one shot.) I was going to head to Nizwa, but my friend is recovering in a cast from a surgery. Therefore with a week to kill and knowing I wanted to be in a town with a church for Easter Sunday, I made my way back to Salalah. (I have now spent an entire day of my life on a bus in Oman.) It is getting humid down here, but its great to be reunited with my friends. Amina and I saw each other every day for those three months, and it was odd being away from that normalcy for two weeks. Its also great to be with my Omani friends again.
I am excited for Easter, as I have never been to a service while over here. It should be interesting, and I will keep you posted!

I want to ride my bicycle

2011-04-17T10:44:00.001-07:00

Adding to the list of stuff I am looking forward to upon stepping foot on American soil:
Knowing exactly what you are going to get when you order. Omani ordering is done in Arabic to an Indian off a menu, translated to a version of Hindi, thrown for a loop around the farthest reaches of the solar system, then put on a grille, and some variation of what you think you might have ordered appears on your plate 15 minutes later.

I was really mad at the Ibri (current town I am in) hotel situation. The one cheap place that has been there forever is closed. Therefore I have two choices, each double the maximum of what I intended to pay. Therefore, what I thought was going to be a week bumming around a very traditional town may be cut short due to finances. The whole reason I came out here was the Thursday market, and now it’s going to be expensive to stay and make it worth it. A picture is worth 1,000 words, but how many Omani rials? In good news the hotel I picked does have free internet which is nice.
I got some great stuff today, and walked 6 miles to do it. I refuse to pay for taxis when I have no place to be (like today) so I walked and was glad I did. I got some of my best stuff. I wandered to the castle, (which was closed-back tomorrow morning) found a burned a out van (protests?) and then found an old structure which was fun to crawl around and shoot. I can’t tell if anything older than 20 years is 2,000 years old or just really horrible made. I also walked up on three shots that made my day: man fixing bike, kid jumping on bike, huge smile on child’s face. Chalk up another page for my project (final link will be published when I am done.)
In other made-me-feel-great news: I sent an email yesterday to one of the higher ups in Drake’s admin about an idea and the feasibility of it before I rattle the swords with senate. She liked the idea, responded on the weekend, and then mentioned actions she would take with the president’s cabinet. Then I got an email from the president himself providing input and expressing interest. Students can have an impact!

Homecoming

2011-04-12T06:54:00.001-07:00

I just finished “The Last True Story I Will Ever Tell” by John Crawford. It was a great book about a Florida National Guardsman who was sent to Iraq (got the call on his honeymoon) just two credits shy of graduation, and almost out of the Army. He was there for much, much longer than he was told he would be. Much of the book talked about homecomings. I know mine will be much different than a combat one, and would never lump them in the same basket. It did make me think though about what it will be like for me.
There is all this talk about “re-entry shock” and hating everything in America. I am excited to have a cheeseburger and a beer. The reverse stuff seems to come true if someone goes to a place they fit in better than America. I enjoy the Middle East, but don’t feel or identify as Arab. My home doesn’t lie in the Middle East, it is in the Midwest. I don’t think “re-entry shock” will be an issue for me.
There are definitely things I think more about now. I think democracy is great, and am fully ready and willing to die for my democracy. However the Omani’s could not get done what they have with everyone voting on everything. (When our own government almost shuts down, it may be time to reevaluate whether the elected have America in their hearts or if partisan bickering is more the flavor of the day.) This is one place where a benevolent dictator works. (Egypt didn’t, Jordan it kind of does.)
I think I will be less worked up over things. My biggest pet peeve is people blowing up on each other or little things. Want something to blow up on? Work for 16 hours building a tower in Dubai for 60 cents a day, go home to live in a one bedroom shack with 10 other Indians. (And this is a step up from staying home.) Oh and you will never, ever be able to afford to even set foot in the tower you are building.
Imagine being a woman and only studying or gossiping. You aren’t free to go out and sit in coffee shops or have male contact outside of academic institution.
Stuff like that makes yelling at the guy in traffic or yelling about some clothing placed in the wrong room of a house not worth it. It could always be worse.
I am worried about reintegrating with my friends. I have talked to a fair amount and with things like facebook I am not as out of touch as I thought I would be. However I don’t have a clue what is popular in movies or music (and probably won’t like it.) We lived very different lives for the last few months. I am excited to take it easy this summer, but can’t manage to find a 8-5 outdoor one allowing me to do so (if you know any in DSM shoot me an email (i.weller@mac.com)
It is going to be interesting having a summer to adjust but also be on my own in DSM, and one that I am looking forward to.

Through the Desert on a horse with no name

2011-04-10T03:45:00.000-07:00

I am in Salalah. We finished our trip to the Emirates. Now we are in ISP time. ISP stands for Independent Study Project. I am doing a non-traditional photo essay of Oman. This means I travel all over Oman and take pictures. I am starting down in Salalah to work my way north. The title will be Oman: Face, Space, and Place. The main goal in Salalah was the night sky. My first night down here we got out onto the beach to shoot the Milky Way, and the next night we went to the Empty Quarter. This is the desert part of Arabia. We found some interesting things along the way which contradicts the notion of “empty.” It lead to some of my better photos, and the feeling that this month of photography has started off exceptionally strong. We ended up at a camp-it was free- so the night sky shots aren’t as I would have liked as the Milky Way was right over a village 9 kilometers away. However, we found a camel-slaughtering cement slab that was being utilized for it’s gory purpose, a grass farm, and a John Deere tractor. When we got home we ended up at the market taking pictures of the fish, vegetables, and most importantly the vendors. The purpose of this project is to try to get as many pictures of people as possible, which is hard to do when I can only talk to half of the population. We also noticed that when we (Steve-a photography friend who lives in Salalah who is graciously putting me up for my time here) ask people to take their picture we get a 50% confirmation rate. It is also interesting that the people who say no are very adamant about it, and the people who say yes say so with the same feeling. It is almost as if to say “why would you ask such a stupid question, of course you can take my picture.”

Teach your children well

2011-03-31T19:38:00.001-07:00

I am in Doha, drinking more tea (pretty soon this blog will become “Bulldogs who Drink Tea in places other than Iowa.)
Doha is simply wonderful. Everything Muscat lacks Doha has. (To be fair Doha has 150,000 Qataris, with 850,000 Expats who do things to serve them such as house work, construction, and education.)
Doha believes in education so much that it started something called Education City. We went there yesterday for lectures. I cannot convey how impressed I was. The notion of taking a bunch of your wealth, targeting specific universities for their specialties, and then saying “come, and we will build you a massive state-of-the-art world-renown campus. For Free. Bring some of your teachers and the classes they teach. We will send our kids, and anyone else who wants to go. Oh yea, and if your students stay in Qatar for 5 years working after they graduate, the whole education is free. Carneigie Melon does business, Northwestern journalism, Georgetown has their School for the Foreign Service, and someone else has medical and and humanities. Imagine how that Board of Trustees meeting went: So Qatar wants us to set up another branch campus. How much do you think it will cost to do that? 18 billion? Cool, here is the blank check they gave us, we just have to send some professors over there. All of this is paid for by the Qatar Foundation-the brain child of the Emir’s (countries leadership) second wife. The amount of spending here puts American grandiosity to shame. I was impressed. Really impressed. I was so impressed that I am kicking myself for not having known about this when I applying. (Technically I did found out about it at Orientation weekend, from a gentleman who I met up with again yesterday. He was the Dean of Georgetown Doha, dropping his son off at Drake. That shows you how good Drake is.) My father pointed out once when I was contemplating an international education (American University Cairo or Beirut) that so many students are trying to come to the US for education, I might as well get in my home country. He was right and I am glad I did. It was still marvelous to see and gave me thoughts of what our school system would look like if we (had and) put that kind of money towards education.
My other Drake highlight of the evening: after all the fun of being out at Education City listening to lectures on American policy and Arab revolutions, one gets tired. Therefore I found myself unwrapping one of the Cuban cigars (thank you Duty and Embargo-free Muscat Airport) and wandering down to the smoking area of our hotel (bar.) We were given strict orders not to drink by our AD, so I smiled at Jack, Morgan, and Johnny Walker and proceeded to ask the man sitting at the bar if he had a light. He tossed me a box of matches, and asked what I was drinking. I said a coke, he sent one my way and we got to talking. He was Scottish and had served time in the RAF in Oman, as well as Northern Ireland. We talked about the Troubles for a good half hour. A big thank you to Prof Kelly Shaw for teaching us a whole unit on the issues of Northern Ireland. I survived and had a wonderful conversation with the Scotsman. I was eventually joined by my other colleagues (one was another Bulldog) and we talked the night away. It was marvelous. Rarely do I find a practical use for what I was taught in high school. However, the things I am taught in this line of education at Drake are almost always put to use. Being able to have an enjoyable conversation and not sound like an idiot made my day. Pharmacists and actuaries have their work stations. Ours can be embassies, war rooms, or hotel bars. Diplomacy comes down to practicing something really simple: engaging people. Hearts and minds over Cubans and Coca-cola ? Perhaps. Thanks Drake!

Material World

2011-03-31T08:07:00.000-07:00

The next couple of years of my life will see me mobile. Very mobile. I already lead a pretty temporary lifestyle but just on the horizon I have: travel home for a few days, then move to Des Moines for winter until winter break, move stuff back home for Christmas, then Back to Des Moines, then move very little to OCS, then from there I could go anywhere. I know I will spend more time on my ship than not, which means no space for stuff. I am at the point in my life that I can shed a lot, and try to live with very little. I love reading about folks who consciously live out there with very little. I understand this is pretty much making poverty seem cool, but that doesnt mean going monk. (Although one of the coolest phrases I ever heard was "Live simply, so others may simply live.") that is not why I am doing this, it is so I may enjoy life more. Stuff gets us down, and creates clutter. If we focus on stuff we spend less time focusing on ourselves and those we care for.
I am worried what to do with sentimental things, like trophies and what not. At some point my parents will not need their current house-the one I and my brother grew up in. This translates to less room for stuff; particularily my stuff. It may be time to condense.
All of this is weighing in on my mind with my travel plans: the Emirates, specifically: Dubai. Consumerism at it's finest. Minimalist hell. I will keep you posted as to how I do.
I have been kicking around a shopping list. Most of the stuff I could get online in America, and very little of it do I need, but it will be something to see it all. I am dreading knicknacks, and trying to avoid bringing them back, as I do that on every trip. I think a nice, sturdy, quality article of clothing that I know I would wearand would remind me of my trip would be great (advice from my director, thanks Issam.) Right now I am thinking another blazer. I don't entirely know if I have a style yet, but in the 4 malls that I have to visit (class requirement:) )I imagine I will find something.

Running down a dream

2011-03-20T23:58:00.000-07:00

“Hey is this lit up at night?” I asked as I checked my compass.
“Not really, why?” He replied.
“Awesome, when I come back do you think we can stop by here? The opening on the coastline there is perfectly lined up with the stars for a photo I would like.”
“Do you see that fence line? That is the Valley of the Witches. The army posts guards there, and something always happens every few weeks, so they run away scared. There are so many Gin here, we cannot be here at night.” My guide, who was cultured, spoke perfect English, and had travelled the world was deathly afraid of the Gins, which are spirit creatures, sort of like poltergeists. My photography has been halted by cops, cold, and clouds, but never by spirits. Until now; they are very prominent in the latest town we were in; Salalah.
My journal entry started: “I am in an airport. Waiting. Again.”
We flew down south to Salalah, where we witnessed a very different environment and culture. We also witnessed some of the finest Arab hospitality on a beach south of town, as well as the plain before the mountain where we had a bonfire, and a lecture on the Dhofar rebellion, next to a bonfire, with dinner, cake and smores. (Possibly my new favorite lecture style.) The fine white sand of the beach greatly added to my enjoyment. While we were waiting for dinner, I had laid back on my beach mat and looked up at the bright moon. Cheesy Arabic music was blasting from the parked car one of our hosts brought. A new song started, with the sultry introduction I love so much: Hotel California (Live.) I was under a full moon having BBQ on a beautiful beach listening to the Eagles. I am not sure what heaven would be like, but I imagine this is pretty close.
Verbatim from my journal:
“Ya Talal, you used to be a runner, care to go for a quick run down the beach?”
“Sure, are we jogging or running?”
“Let’s run!”
I took off. I was bounding through the receding waves. It felt good. It felt real good. A huge smile broke out over my face again for the second time that night. I extended my arms and closed my eyes. I didn’t jog. I didn’t run. I flew.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

2011-03-14T20:44:00.000-07:00

I am now glad for every frustration I have had in this country. Yesterday our American counterparts in Jordan came through; all 30 of them. This is their big spring break trip, which originally was to Egypt. We heard grand stories of constant binge drinking in Jordan, as well as in Oman. (They have been here for two days.) They walked in all sporting traditional parts of dress. Women were wearing Kumas; the male only hats. Gender roles stateside are much less played up or dictated. However here they are important: the looks they got from our liberal-by-Oman-standards teachers signified this was going to be interesting. There isn't really anything close to comparison stateside, except maybe a man walking into a university with short shorts, a tank top, and flowers in his hair.
We lead completely and totally different lives than many of them. The amount of drinking was astronomical. It is even weirder as I know Jordan, and I know it pretty well. In the two summers I was there, I didn't drink once. There are plenty of things to do, and although alcohol can be a part of Jordanian society, it doesn’t have to be, and isn’t for the vast majority of Jordanians. One can have all the social interactions and feel good attitude at a cafe with shisha or tea. If one wanted to drink; stay at home for it is much cheaper.
They asked us what we do on weekends, and as much as I complain about our lack of tangible experiences, I have something here I never would have gotten elsewhere: a family. In Egypt I had very close friends that I know I could have relied on, and did so in times of need, but here I have a legitimate family. I am included in their daily lives and see their struggles. The Jordanian students may have that too, but for every minute I am out at a bar, there are things happening, or people "being" that I am not a part of. There is a fair amount of sitting and tea drinking here, and at first that got to me. As I close in on the downward slope I realize I miss out on simply sitting and being when I am at school. Thankfully I get to do it here, with people I may never see again. Everyone has a story, right now mine is learning theirs.

Two cigarettes in an ashtray

2011-03-12T05:08:00.001-08:00

Conversation, especially of the "I'll have another pot of mint tea" type is one of my favorite activities here. . For too many days on end we do not have actual conversations with people (at least in the States.) The slow calculated breathing and social atmosphere of these coffee shops lends itself to conversation. The nights when we were having it in Nizwa, were wonderful and very diverse topically. The last evening found us at the same café as the previous night but with a host of different topics from energy to different travel dreams, to growing up back home. Someone makes a point, and then draws on their shisha hose, while the others all evaluate. It is something I really enjoy for the taste, but mostly the atmosphere that in brings out.
My handwriting is atrocious. I have been trying to write letters to folks back home, as postcards here are 1, nonexistent and 2, if found, ridiculously expensive. Letter writing is another lost art. I know none of these letters will get to their destinations very quickly, and email is easier, however the emotions associated with writing and receiving letters can’t begin to be a legitimate comparison for email. I received my first letter before we left for the Nizwa. It was awesome and immediately lifted my spirits. It also feels great to write. I bought a journal the other day, and am excited to start writing in it. When I was alone in the desert, watching the sun go down, I felt connected as if I was sharing the experience with a close friend. I was writing letters.

"Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company."-Lord Byron

Allah and Soldier

2011-03-12T05:05:00.000-08:00

Our last evening in Nizwa was interesting. I learned to pray, and got the whole “come to Islam” speech. It was the same tactic I have heard people use for Christianity “If you aren’t in the club, you are going to hell, and I think you are a good person, so come to Islam because I don’t want you to go to fire.” I have been to this region either four or five times depending on evacuation count and only now was personally taught to pray. It was pretty moving, and one could definitely feel something. I do not consider myself a Muslim, but have a new appreciation for the religion which encompasses and dictates so much of my life here.
On the complete opposite end of religious devotion we are still living with 20 year old boys who can’t talk to women. They are curious, and asked “In America, you can make sex with any woman you want, right?” Uh, not exactly. On the way back to Muscat we were asked the same question at a University we stopped at for a cultural exchange. We explained that the movies and music videos they watch are made for Americans, and thus are not a mirror to American society, but entertainment fantasy.
We stopped at a natural hot springs and a fort (I have been doing lots of fort shopping this past week) on the way back after our second university visit. A very old man was sitting at the entrance nodding and greeting people. He looked to be at least 80, and was dressed in traditional interior clothing: ammunition belt, and knife. I gave the standard greetings when we passed to go have a quick dip in the only hot tub (hot springs-which had benches carved into the rock) I can find south of Spain. I had my hat on, a t-shirt and have grown a beard; I definitely would not be associated as military. However as we were leaving, I was lagging behind to talk to some of the Omani students with us and say our goodbyes. As I approached the seated old man, we made eye contact. He stood up, and rendered a perfect Omani (British, open hand) salute. I snapped to attention and returned it in our fashion. That moment engulfed me in something more than the religious teachings ever could. I felt a connection to that man’s sacrifice and love for his country. It has been a few days since the experience, but I still feel completely overcome by it.

Ramblin' Man

2011-03-12T05:04:00.000-08:00

I live a very temporary life. I am either in school, at home, or travelling. This is making me pretty good at minimalism, and keeping my "stuff" levels down while I am on the road. I think a temporary lifestyle is full of adventure, and am fine with having that for the next 10 years or so of my life (school, different school, training runs, deployments. Rinse, repeat.) The ability to be able to be semi-nomadic and not be tied down is at times invigorating.
I have noticed some things about Oman, which is why it is not my ideal place. The place lacks community. It is too warm to walk anywhere for most of the year, therefore people stay in their cars (what did they do before 1970 when there was 6 miles of road? Staying in one’s car means they won't have meet or interact with others. There is no gathering place for the exchange of ideas. I haven’t found a place where old men gather to play chess and backgammon while complaining about the youth and the state of things. There is not a Tahirir square, nor too many things which function as the meeting or social exchange spot that a tavern would in the Western world. The experiences here are very esoteric, and thus we appreciate the tangible much more when it does come.
Last night a few of us discussed these issues and our temporary lifestyle over hookah (shisha) and mint tea. We also solved many of our world's problems: high speed rail transport for example. If every voting district took a ride on a French TGV or the Prague metro, they would fund it all. Imagine being able to get from Cleveland, Chicago, Madison, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Des Moines, STL, Kansas City in around an hour or two. Environmental saving would be huge, and most of the infrastructure is already in place with the interstate system. Then, forget the need to actually travel to any of these places. With 3g and now 4g speed, video conferencing, remote meetings, etc are becoming more and more useful to travel budgets. Last semester a friend had to run home for a doctor appointment, but could not skip class. Therefore she skyped herself into the class and fully participated as a student. Omantel's lock on the internet will become one of it's largest hindrances in the future. We discussed the two biggest problems Oman faces, which may coincide with each other: the oil running out, and his majesty’s life doing the same. This place is called the Sultanate for a reason, and when the beloved Sultan departs power, the cult of personality-puppeteer-father of the country will be gone, leaving a great void. And then, on top of all this we schemed and dreamed of ways to become insanely rich off of this country. As this is a Drake funded blog, I feel maybe I would endow a professorship of some form. Now if only I could figure out what to do with the other 28 million?

Country Roads...

2011-03-12T05:01:00.000-08:00

"Welcome to our hostel!" We were greeted and swarmed by the male students of the equivalent of a fraternity house in Nizwa, the village we are staying in this week. We are with the men of the University of Nizwa while the girls are with families getting the more conservative, interior of the country experience. I live with all the Bedouin guys, who come off as simple country folk but are quite dedicated to their studies. The first evening we spent much of our time lounging around on the front porch talking to everybody. As we were doing this it started to rain. My whole mantra for the trip has been "it could be worse, it could be raining." In theory it should be much worse, as it poured! They all interpreted it as a good sign.
Tyler and I went to a coffee shop with one of the guys, who drove a Corvette. In theory all the students at the university have an academic level of English. This one actually did. As we drove into one of the villages around the university, we noticed there was nothing out here, which is probably good to keep everyone focused on their studies. We had a very intense conversation about women and the social pressures the men are under. It is forbidden to talk to a woman (and there is 6,000 of them on campus, compared to 1,000 males) so the notion of having women as friends is not really understood. There is some rendezvousing but it has a more romantic flavor. One our housemates has had six girlfriends, and never once actually hung out with them. All they do is talk on the phone.
At breakfast the next morning, I was tapped on the shoulder with a big "Saba al khir" (good morning.) It was the dean of students, who hosted us for coffee and honey dates the day before. There is a uniform here of white dishdasha for males and blakh abaya for females. I did not bring either, so stuck out even more than usual in my gray polo. We talked for a little bit and I got a fair amount of quizzical looks from the gathered breakfast eaters.
We went to the Imamate’s fort and then up the tallest mountain in all of the Gulf. This was the region of the rebellion and has not always taken kindly to the rule of the Sultan from Muscat. The following day we went to a place called Bahla which has a large concentration of black magic. We found another fort which was still under renovation from the bullet holes and mortar shells of the Dhofar Rebellion in the late 60's and early 70's.
Lunch was had with the man who is in charge of teaching everyone English for the first two years before they get into their major. He was an Omani who went to University of Northern Iowa, so we bonded. We also talked at great length about education theory and the lack of critical thinking that his students have. His observation was they still relied too much on rote memorization, a philosophy I agree with.
It is very different out here. It is a wonderful place to visit but I could never live out here. There just isn't that much to do, and the ability to not talk to the vast majority of the students outside of a purely academic (how do you solve for x?) would kill me.

A Bulldog Abroad

2011-03-10T00:39:00.000-08:00

The Desert Sands of Oman

A Good Friday

2011-03-04T00:00:00.000-08:00

The revolution has quieted down. I think. It is shortly before noon on Friday here, and supposedly the region itself will have massive demonstrations after prayer gets out. I think Oman will be fine. There have been more "Violence is bad, we love the government, and especially His Majesty" protests than opposition ones. The cell phone companies keep sending around texts about pro-government demonstrations, and it appears many people are taking to them. A few nights ago I heard crying coming from the other room. I cautiously went to investigate. My host father had the television on and they were showing the demands of the anti-government folks-which were ludicrous. He was crying, saying this is not his Oman. It was really touching.
Some of the demands included giving more power to the legislative branch, and independent oversight of the police. This has been in the works for the last 8 months, as was rolled out right before everything went down. However other demands were raising the minimum salary to 500 Rials a month, but they would settle for 300 so we can get 15X their salary loans...then forgive all the loans. It is ridiculous. They have 12 jobs found for them before they are cut off from social security. I imagine everything will be fine, and it seems the movements are dying in Oman, but like so many other things in this world, we shall see.

'Merica!

2011-03-03T23:59:00.000-08:00

Things are starting to go into a cycle. I am normalizing, which I do not like. I was on edge all the time in Egypt, which meant I was hyper-sensitive and thus took in more. Here, that is not the case. I don't have the need to always feel my wallet and passport right at my side. Maybe it is because I am in a family setting, but other people have noticed it too. Don't get me wrong it is great to have that sort of complacency, but I am not entirely sure that is what I wanted.
Things aren't American or Western here, but the individualism (families included) hits close to home. Everything looks the same, the people dress the same, even the roads are really efficient. I don't know the neighbors and only yesterday found the back alleys near my house to the main street. These were gorgeous and this is what I really longed for. This little area next to my house was my underbelly of Cairo, or market in Alexandria. This was what I imagined.
Yesterday was pretty odd and a decent way to break up the cycle. I got a fair amount of work done in the morning, and then as the sun started to dip, went to the walmart-esque shop to get some things. I spent a great deal of time just looking at stuff and people. Earlier in the day I found cement in paint cans with a bar (bench-press) on the roof from what I think was another student as there was a whiteboard with a bunch of different sets, in English, up there. I was looking for protein shakes, when the hallelujah chorus came on, and angels themselves shone florescent refrigerated light on the Arc of the Covenant itself: Rootbeer! I bought all eight of the entire supply. I also bought a thin blanket, as I have a very thick one and it is getting warm, as well as beach/sitting blanket for school. (When we get back from Nizwa this week, I am going swimming. Everyday.)
I went home and made some tea and kept reading/talking with the host mom/making noises at the little one. The kids wanted popcorn chicken for dinner, so we made that. We also made regular popcorn, so I melted some butter for that and they loved it. I could tell this could become a very American night. Then one of my buddies called who had a rough skype conversation with what could very well be his ex-grilfriend. In keeping with my American night, we went bowling. As I got in the car of a friend of my buddie's host brother, a song was playing that had special meaning as an inside joke to our group in Egypt and it immediately put smile on my face.
I bowled really well, and then we went to play billiards. When we were coming out of the mall that housed all this stuff we saw a woman who had blatantly broken her leg. They were trying to lift her, which was only causing her even more excruciating pain. There was a food stand right in the entrance of the mall, so I ran up there, past the group, and "borrowed" his stool, much to his surprise. We then put her on it, and she immediately stopped screaming. The group then lifted the stool down the steps and put her in the car for what I hope was a ride to the hospital. America!

Revolution part 2?

2011-02-27T04:38:00.001-08:00

2/27 Sunday 4:32
There is currently a sit-in taking place at the Majlis Shura (legislative advisory council.) The demand is for the removal of six ministers. This is taking place courtesy of the intelligentsia, who are advocating non-violence while pushing for a new constitution and structural change to the political apparatus.
Up North and in other cities the youth are conducting a different protest. They are pushing for higher education, employment, authority to be given to the Majlis, accountability from the ministers, and higher living wages. Oman: 28% unemployment, an unchecked monarchy, and more than half of the population has only known one ruler. Sound familiar? We shall see.
Right now there are reports which state either 2 or 5 dead courtesy of police, a few cops in the hospital, and the youth are mad as hell. Worries have come out that the youth aren’t going to exercise restraint, which is what troubles me most. Confirmed reports of tear gas have surfaced as well as allegations-and apparently a few bodies- of live ammo used. (This very well could be rubber bullets though.)
A hope gap exists within the youth. Hopefully this gap does not lead to a canyon filled with blood.
All of the dangerous stuff is in Sohar, which is a few hours from me up the coast. I haven’t got any pictures yet, nor seen anything but will keep you posted.

Family

2011-02-27T02:16:00.000-08:00

There are times when I definitely feel like a boarder in the home-stay family. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful family, and am eternally grateful, but like many things in life; this is not what I had planned for. Oman was an option for me always, thanks to Drake’s incredible Study Abroad (http://www.drake.edu/international/study-abroad/) choices. However I had grand dreams of gallivanting off after school every day down Alexandria’s back alleys to find the soul of the city, to meet everyone, and fall in love with the language, the people, the city, and the Mediterranean Sea. All that changed…
Yesterday those changes were put into perspective. The parents were working late, which meant the kids were rambunctious and when the father came home they ran towards him and jumped into his arms. (I used to do that as a kid, when my dad had this long tan trench coat that I can still smell when I close my eyes, and an odd top hat/fedora sort of thing. I am now poked fun of in my family my choices in odd hats, though I am pretty sure that’s where my fascination started. Like father, like son.) As I sat watching this over my book and cup of tea, I realized this is an aspect of Egyptian life I would not get to know from my apartment. This is the soul of Oman: family life.
One of the girls had to make a clock for her homework and was struggling. So like good proud men, the father and I worked together to create a cardboard timepiece to rival Rolex. We even made working hands and used a tack to secure them. Then I pulled out my multi-tool to make use of the pliers to safely secure the back end of the tack. It was a fine clock. Then the English workbook required her to draw in the hands. She can’t read well, so I ended up teaching her to tell time with the help of my analog watch, while the father helped her brother with counting in Arabic. I may be assisting at a first grade English level, but I finally feel useful in this family.

Sailing

2011-02-26T01:21:00.000-08:00

Every once and awhile I head to Expat land: a place where the call to prayer is a little softer, shorts are acceptable and English is the dominant language. This little journey took me to The Wave-Muscat (http://www.thewavemuscat.com/), a Dubai Palms/The World wanna-be, and the only place where Expats (expatriates) are allowed to own property in Oman. (Psyche! The Omanis are building a new airport with the international runway just on the other side of the road of the far too expensive-$221,000- 1 bedroom apartments. This is either atrocious city planning or someone has a wonderfully expensive sense of humor and a distaste for sleeping Westerners.) The Wave happens to be right on the beach, and since much of it is built out onto the water, a natural marina and bay is formed. The winds coming down through the Gulf towards the Indian Ocean tend to pickup right here. This creates the perfect spot for a stadium of sorts to be erected to watch Extreme Sailing.
As I cabbed it towards The Wave along the beach highway I could make out the mainsails crisscrossing each other on the bay. It was glorious. These were 40 foot Catamarans built for racing. There were 11 teams, with the home crowd cheering for Oman Air and The Wave’s own racer. (This was all free and the last part of the Muscat Festival, which meant there were some Omani’s. The poster boy-literally his face was everywhere- Khamis, had taken up the sport three years ago after never having been on a boat. He won it all last year.)

I was cheering for a team called Artemis which was captained by the only American in the regatta. For the most part it was Aussies, Kiwis and Brits.
Races would last about ten minutes and required the boats to go through different gates spread throughout the bay. They would have to choose between going wide or sticking close to shore, and were given penalties (360 degree turn) for hitting each other. It was great to watch the helmsman work against their competitors and many times they would jump up along side one on the last dash to to the end, drop back, take all the wind out of the other’s sails, and then bolt forward. The notion that someone might crash a 40 foot boat, was also interesting and the close calls received much attention from the crowd. The final sprint was right along the bleachers which made for a thrilling end: It was downwind so the spinnakers (massive white sails out the front of the boat) unfurled which rocketed the boat forward while the skippers tried to get as much speed as they could. Occasionally they would fly a hull (raise one out of the water) which also increased their speed and most importantly brought them to the literal edge of disaster. It was magical to watch these vessels, powered solely by the wind, cutting across the bay.
The Extreme Sailing Series (http://www.extremesailingseries.com/) travels all over the world to do this for the rest of the year. In America they come to Boston. It was all hosted by Oman Sail, which is mostly run by Westerners but is Oman’s attempt to get Omani youth back into their very storied sailing roots.

Artemis won. AMERICA!

Living on the edge

2011-02-26T01:19:00.000-08:00

Thursday Feb 24 11:00am

There is a mark of manliness which has passed for my generation: the straight razor shave. I imagine days of old where men would sit around the barber shop conversing over baseball scores, fishing holes, and new fangled rock n roll. They would be there to get a haircut and straight razor shave.
I was looking rather unkempt having gone more than a month without a good haircut and making sure my last haircut did not draw unwanted (who does he work for?) attention in Egypt. There was no way my current state of appearance would pass any inspection, by either Admiral or amicable female. It is the Arab World’s version of Saturday morning, a time for cleaning and chores. After cleaning my room, I ventured out to one of the four million barbershops that seem to litter the streets of Muscat, generally all right next to each other. I walked into one from which the proprietor had greeted me on previous wanderings around my block. I ended up getting exactly what I wanted in terms of a haircut and then they asked if I wanted a shave.
I have always wanted a straight razor shave. My father said it is much better and closer than what my Gillette razor can do. He once told a story of trying to get one for his wedding day. I was a little nervous about blades on my throat, and thought to the Johnny Depp musical movie about the demon barber. Images also flashed of the beheadings in the country next door, and terrorist television with men doing the same in black jumpsuits. Oh wait, those people aren’t barbers, and this is Oman. In odd conversation I learned the proper way to tell if I am going to be murdered in the Arabic, so figured I would have a few seconds to do something. Then I realized how ethnocentric this line of thought was and felt bad for even coming across it.
The shave was incredible and easily one of the most glorious things I have ever had. It was as if (cue the Midwest reference) a zamboni had laid down a sheet of silk smooth ice of my face. I may have to invest in a straight razor when I get home. If you have never had one of these shaves, get one for your next big event/date/etc. My Gillette is going to get quite jealous.

Toes in the Water

2011-02-19T01:09:00.000-08:00

The past 48 hours have easily been some of my most memorable. In the ebb and flow of study abroad everyone gets down at some point, and we were all feeling it. Thankfully we had this excursion as a group.
We headed to the desert. I am a huge fan of deserts, especially suns setting into them and the stars rising above. When we arrived at the camp it was about an hour before the sun started to set so we packed into 4x4s and “Dune Bashed”-drive up and down really steep dunes throwing sand up and ride fast enough to rival many roller coasters. Then they left us on a really high dune over looking the camp to watch the sunset. The sun hung right on the horizon as if trying to make up it’s mind, then plunged straight down. The lighting during this time is spectacular so I really enjoyed taking pictures. As the sun shone for it’s last few moments everyone was quiet listening to the still of the desert and watching the end of the day.
After hiking down the dune, and a delicious dinner some folks sang and others, including myself migrated to the bonfire pits. I sat around with a few friends and made new ones. I had one of the most chilling conversations with a man named Ahmed. He and his Hungarian wife joined us by the fire as I worked on putting damage into the tabacco bowl of a hookah. (Jupiter was setting in the west; I blew smoke rings around it.) I started in Arabic with the normal introduction dance with Ahmed. He was an Iraqi who worked as an engineer in Oman. He had been here for 17 years. I can do math, so hesitantly asked him what he did before he moved here. He was an artillery officer in Sadam’s army, fighting the Coalition during the Gulf War, in Southern Iraq. We talked for an hour in English (his was great) about being an officer against the American forces and what sort of strain that put on him and his troops. We also talked about how his leadership forced him and his platoon to stay out, in the open (can’t beat the Americans in open desert warfare) and what it was like for him as an officer. It was one of the most interesting conversations I have ever had.
Eventually the conversation dwindled and he and his wife headed to their cabin, while I stayed with the fire and my smoke rings before heading to my rack as well. For a very brief time. I woke up at 2:30, thankfully joined by my favorite Egyptian evacuee Amina (fellow Bulldog.) We hiked up multiple sand dunes, which took over a half hour to get to a good location, where I could look east. Then we waited. I took great joy in being able to show her some of the constellations, and she saw her first shooting stars. We were waiting for the almost full moon to go down, and Sagittarius to come up. This made the dark sky explode with the brightest part of the Milky Way, our galaxy. I have chased this part of the galaxy with my father and John Rummel on many occasions (http://www.friendsoftheapostleislands.org/) When it came up, I went to work getting different shots, and avoiding planes heading to Australia. Briefly captured, and while I was testing different settings, and the camera was open while I was in awe of the heavens, I witnessed one of the top 5 most glorious scenes of my life. A fireball of a shooting star fell seductively straight across the Milky Way. It was sheer enjoyment for me and I had a smile on my face for the entire day.
After breakfast we drove to our next camp, close to a turtle reserve on the Indian Ocean. We arrived a few hours early, so grabbed a soccer ball and headed to the beach (far away from the turtle nesting grounds.) Before the game began we all went swimming/walking on the beach. I took a stroll to dry off and for a few minutes couldn’t see another soul on the beach. Talk about an experience; the vast ocean in front of me, not a person around and I am on the other side of the world. It was awe-inspiring. Our younger Arabic teacher came along and played soccer with us. We were covered in sand by the end of the game, but as a good pickup game will do, everyone’s smile matched mine from the morning.
We made it back to camp to watch the sunset again, followed by dinner, and more hookah. A Turk brought a bottle of vodka and offered it around. I was proud none of our team members took it, out of respect to the society, our purpose in it (members of, not just tourists) and our lovable Muslim host, Ali. We then got into a sing-a-long of sorts with Ali. We sang an American song in unison, he belted about Arabic love songs. Bonfire crackles and waterpipe bubbles provided the perfect background music.
We all woke up at 4 am to go to the turtle beach and got to see mother turtles laying eggs, burying them in their nests, and then heading out to sea. That was really interesting in the “circle of life” sort of way as only a few will make it to adulthood. We watched the sunrise, went to breakfast (chicken eggs, Ali swears) and headed to Sur to a Dhow (traditional Arab sailing ship) factory. We had free rnage of the shipyard, which resulted in some interesting photowork. After casting off from the shipyard, we went to a Wadi, much like the one from my previous trip. More hiking, swimming, playing in the pools and just relaxing in the fresh clear water lead to close out a perfect weekend before a quiet and content ride back to Muscat.
We arrived by the expat (read: rich, white) area. More importantly we left that area which full stomachs thanks to Baskin Robins 31 flavors. I haven’t had Ice cream in a long time and my Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough and Peanut Butter combo made up for it.

Dream a little dream

2011-02-11T20:36:00.000-08:00

Fri Feb 11
I had my first “Wow, I’m in Oman moment” yesterday. It occurred on the side of the road, 2 hours out of Muscat in a direction I am not entirely sure, as we ended up seeing the beach again. I was on the side of the road while the cast of the Arab version of the Hangover-my host father and his three buddies, stopped at a wayside mosque to pray. I was invited to either sit in the car, or hang out outside (I am assured I will get to go into a mosque one of these weeks, but it will be in Muscat where things aren’t as conservative.) It was a gorgeous day, and while I was listening to them pray I checked my surroundings. Huge rock walls jutted up from the highway giving the impression of the Grand Canyon. A wind started to blow (which kept up until it roared me out of sleep that night as a tent came crashing down next to me, and I went and slept in the car. This is the Shamal-north wind, signaling it’s about to change seasons, which means hot hot hot) and I just had one of those “I am 2 time zones shy of the other side of the world from everyone I know” moments. I am travelling with 4 guys I don’t know who I think are hilarious but I also do not understand any of the jokes. I was told “hey we are going camping, bring a swimsuit.” I have camped in this region before, and it is easily one of my favorite pastimes here, and also why I schlepped a tripod over 4 continents in 3 weeks. The stars amazing here, 2nded only to the Apostles and what I vaguely remember of Maui.
A few kilometers out of the wadi (apparently we are staying in Wadi, which I interpreted to be like Jordan’s Wadi Rum-vast desert, why the hell do I need a swimsuit?) they pull off, throw the landcruiser, which until today has sat idle infront of the house and now I find out what it is used for, into 4 wheel and literally leave the road towards a dead tree. Then a line is thrown around it/the hitch and dead tree is yanked from dead ground to become firewood. It is stowed on back after it is broken up more by jumping and beating. We then jump back on the highway only to get off again by a river. We follow the river up until it becomes pools and then river bed. We cross the stream a few times and eventually end up on a rocky sandbar, where we make camp. Around us is a gorgeous wadi, having been cut from probably a few million years of rock, occasionally helped out but what looked like some violent mother nature temper-tantrums in the form of volcanoes, water and earthquakes. It’s also dark, which means food. The meals were incredible Omani Mishkeck, a seasoned kebab. Then they talked and let me go to work. I grabbed at least one of the top 3 pictures I have ever taken and am thankfully in it.

(Bless timers! I take great pride when my friends make their profile picture one I have taken, and lament the fact that I don’t get to travel with brilliant photographers other than when I go with Dad and John once a year, therefore am limited in the amount of shots I am in.) The moon was at half, meaning just enough light to saturate the wadi but not blow out the stars I had my mattress outside and so as the camera worked I would throw on the Ipod to my favorite songs and just watch the universe literally swirl by. (I try to start all the posts with either a lyric or the name of the song, which some avid readers have picked up on. Dream a little dream of me starts out: “stars shining bright above you…” and also happened to come on my ipod as I was gazing.) It was a whose-who of delights last night with Orion, Pegasus, the big dipper/Ursa Major, Canis Major, Pices, Cassiopeia, Leo, and the Pleiades all in great form. It was wonderful, and I finally felt the independence I was worried I was leaving behind in an apartment in Alexandria. I also tried time lapse and star trail stuff but will need to wait to get home to put it all together. I got a few hours of shut eye (automatic cameras: run ‘em till the dual batteries die.) When I woke up, breakfast was being made. In daylight it occurred to me that this swimming pool is rather big, and deep. The rest of the day was spent singing, playing drums, harassing the French who pulled up right next to us (dude you have the whole wadi and it’s 100k long!) and swimming. Imagine Huck Fin swimmin’ hole in Oman. This led to a lounging day eating shark (store-bought, not from the swimming hole, but the crystal clear freshwater made for easy spotting of fish) and getting “Ian’s first day doing something with his shirt off outside sunburn.” Feb 11th would be a new record by a long shot for that one. Maybe it was that I was just being. I wasn’t talking much, aside just to ask certain words in Arabic. Their English wasn’t great and I realized how far I have to go in Arabic to be conversationally competent. This meant I spent most of my time observing: them, their interactions, the beautiful place we were in, and thinking about what it all means to be over here.
I am happy, and content. The stars shined brightly last night, seeming to say “you can do this, enjoy your time.” (8:23pm FRIDAY I just received a text from Amina, my fellow Bulldog in Egypt and now in Oman: “Mubarak resigned. Military is now in charge of Egypt.” Pharo’s rule is over! I am completely elated. It was all worth it. “Let freedom ring!”) Wow that was ironic to get that text as the next line I was about to write; The stars shine the same for us regardless of what country we are in, and hopefully they will shine bright on those we left behind in Egypt, as they continue to do for me in Oman.

test

2011-02-09T16:48:00.001-08:00

test

Girls and Boys

2011-02-08T20:52:00.000-08:00

I have unfiltered access to any aspect of Omani society that I inquire about via my host mother, who is South African. She married an Omani man, and they are a really cute couple.
I asked about dating habits among Omani youth and got some scary answers. When trying to date or get to know someone, both genders will cruise a certain street (Shara Hb-Street of Love.) They will Bluetooth their numbers to strangers coming by. This is based solely on physical attraction. This will lead to secret rendezvous where he will take her to some dark and secluded place for them to talk and possibly other things. I imagine this is not the safest way to engage in dating. To ratchet up the danger level: sometime he will tailgate her if she is driving, run her off the road, dash out and hand his number, then return to traffic. Two rules apply: can’t be seen in public, and she must be a virgin when she gets married, but there is still high amounts of intercourse going on. (The response to the look on my face at the moment of this telling, was “yes they do that instead.”) Generally someone won’t marry a girl he has “dated.” This is all because of the infatuation with the west. The “cool” kids are the one who act American. Graffiti on the wall outside my neighborhood says “Tupac, 50 Cent and Eminem.” However they think the Americans cruise girls all day and engage in random acts of “intimacy” every weekend. The repression on folks here is nasty, and becomes really dangerous that they are doing all these things without anyone having a clue where they are as they snuck out. I asked what happens when this generation comes of the age of influence and power. The response “Allah help us.”
Doug was a former American student here. Doug has blond haired, blued, quintessential American. Doug was also really shy. He spent a few hours at Starbucks one weekend using their free internet. He came home and said “I didn’t look or say anything…” and proceeded to dump out 22 slips of paper with phone numbers of girls who had dropped them on his table as they breezed by. The story gets better when he takes a ride from a friendly bus driver, who happened to have the girls high school route that day. Same sort of situation, but secretly passed so the driver couldn’t see.

I am fine, and into a routine. Arabic classes are great, the hour long break I use to go to the beach is better. People are nice here, and I am less on edge. It’s still a walking society and I even seen too many things to photograph, but have been perusing book stores to see what other folks have shot of Oman. Turns out I need a car to go anywhere cool. This weekend however I am heading camping so we shall see. I will finally be able to put my wide angle lens to good use.

Window on the world

2011-02-06T20:56:00.000-08:00

“Welcome to Oman! Nothing like you saw in Egypt will ever happen here.”
There are also some other differences. This is the gulf, not the Levant or Egypt that I am used to. It is significantly warmer. The men all dress the same wearing dishdasha (white robe) and white cover. The women all wear black robes with hijab and a significantly larger amount wear nikab (eyes only.) This all means that when me and most host father (Ahmed) go into the supermarket with me wearing a red polo I stick out. A lot. I am almost a foot taller than the average Omani.
People drive, everywhere. Egypt was rather foot accessible (hiking all of Zamelek,) whereas Muscat is quite spread out. This means the “Faces of Egypt/Oman” photo project I was working on may have to stop at the Nile. I have taken one picture while be here, of the Sultan’s boat.
When we heard (we really knew nothing, at all, of this country) it was a sultanate, one thing immediately comes to mind: Disney’s Aladdin. In true orientation form, we watched the movie as a group for our first class to discuss culture. The moment we landed and saw the architecture though I serenaded my fellow bulldog with a rousing rendition of “Prince Ali.” She was definitely impressed, I think after this I may do a Middle East tour.
On the way down, when I was trying to figure out what I had gotten myself into another particular song came to mind:
“A cup of coffee and a shaky hand/waking up in a foreign land/trying to act like I got something planned/that’s my window on the world/”-JB
Right now my classroom window opens up to the Indian Ocean, which seems like a good place to build my sand castle for the next few months.

Woken up 7am Monday Feb 7th by host siblings: “Are you a packers fan or a steelers fan?” groggy response: Packers. “You won!” OMGGGGGGGGGGGGG ALHUMDILALLAH!

Silver Wings

2011-02-03T23:21:00.000-08:00

The Arab airlines are notorious for having really attractive flight attendants. Waiting for our flight from Prague today, watching the darn snow that I am utterly thankful to be leaving, I noticed this gorgeous woman. (That is saying a lot as Czech people were drop dead gorgeous in general, and I am mad at whichever one of my grandparents left that particular gene pool.) Turns out the gods of seat assignments put me and her next to teach other. We started talking and turns out she was an off duty Emirates flight attendant, from Slovakia. I had a great flight.

I occasionally glanced up at the in-flight map. It shortly occurred to me that our route would put us over Iraq. First came Mosul, then Kirkuk, Baghdad etc as we pushed south towards Kuwait, Bahrain, Qatar and on to Dubai. I felt very odd knowing many lives were changed and lost on the sands 35,000 feet below. While waiting in the airport in Prague I was reading One Bullet Away By Capt. Fick, a Marine who was one of the first people to head opposite my direction in 2003. Knowing what happened below us to two generations of Americans and countless years of struggle for the Iraqis made it all a little uneasy and I was happy to get out of Iraqi airspace. I thought of if and when I will ever land in Baghdad in a professional capacity. The recent political strife in Egypt and other countries guarantees positions for Arabic speakers.

The newspapers here are still covered with Egypt news. We skyped one of our friends in Alex last night and he mentioned things had calmed down. We watched tv reports from Cairo at the same time and saw something very different.

Flags

2011-02-03T00:09:00.000-08:00

I am completely and truly blessed by friends and family with the support I received via email, facebook and phone calls. There was a time when I had a horrible weekend in Jordan, and returned to the hotel only to find a letter saying I was missed and thought of. The same feelings of great warmth swept over me every time I turn on my computer these last few days. I will be eternally grateful for the support extended by so many.

One of my favorite mental pictures from the trip is of our group on the bus all holding Egyptian flags. The day before we evacuated a guy was selling the flags on the side of the road (capitalism at it’s finest: making money off a revolution.) I of course asked to stop to add one to my collection. We all ended up getting the flags and waved them across Egypt to many a smile and thumbs-up from the drivers we passed.

In a few short hours these flags will be spread all over the world, just as quickly as the people who wave them came together. I and another Drake student will be heading to Muscat, Oman in the Gulf (goin’ Gulfin’!) Others will head to Australia, Dubai, France, Morocco, and many returning to their home universities to either take classes or a job for the semester. 12 students randomly brought together with a thirst to learn Arabic and enjoy Egyptian culture. Now we will be spread out after having relied on each other in some of the most trying times any of us have ever faced in our two decades of life. It has been an honor to know these people and I was greatly impressed with all of them. Hats also off to our team leader Chris Harrison who truly kept us together, sane and most importantly, safe. I will miss them greatly.

There is no snow where I am going (although Prague has been gorgeous, it is way too cold for what I packed.) When I land it will be 80 degrees.
Back into the Sandbox!

Reflections

2011-02-02T00:45:00.001-08:00

It has been two nights since I left. No gunfire to put me to sleep. Instead I wake up in the comforts of a snow encrusted Prague, and some resemblance of a routine. I am watching the country I enjoyed so much fall apart from the safety of a Czech beer and a leather chair. I am no longer in the regime imposed stone-age I was in. There are times when I lament how connected I am, and then when I do not have any connection, as was the case when internet and phones were shut down by the regime for days, one comes out with a new appreciation.
I learned I can survive under even harsher circumstances than what I thought. Gunfire, stone age living, and the unknown sure help one grow up. I learned of a truly neighborly and compassionate lifestyle, that men would arm themselves to protect their families, property and friends. This is thankfully not a distinctly American value, but shared by those who seem so distant from us. That distance gap greatly shrunk when I saw the struggle these people went through. When we go abroad we notice how different things are, but we seem to see how much alike we really are. For once it wasn’t about making an extra buck, or ferrying tourists to old piles of rock. It was about freedom and choice.
I was very pleased with my packing job, which leads to my next one. The plan is to hopefully head to the Gulf for more Arabic, but certain people need to give clearance first for that. If not I will head back to Drake. Now I wait and as I look out on the snow next to the tarmac, I reflect.
I marveled at the pyramids. I listened to Jimmy Buffett by the Mediterranean Sea. The hookah smoke rings were formed, and prices expertly slashed with a look and a few Arabic phrases. Entire conversations were had with me in the Arabic corner, and an Egyptian representing the English language, which later turned to all Arabic, and a smile to my linguistic competence. We can judge places from an air-conditioned tourist bus, send a few postcards and then return to our western hotels and call it “travelling.” Every once in a while comes the opportunity to get off the beaten path and to see something different and real. I am not sure what words if any can best describe what we saw differently than our counterparts holed up in a 5-star but to sum it up I would use “heart.” I got to truly see the heart of a city, which expanded to the heart of a nation.
I spent 12 days in the sandbox. I pulled out 4 months shorter than I had planned, with a little less clothing, but so much more in memories.

2011-02-01T02:54:00.000-08:00

Jan 30
8:16am Local:
“Ian, this is Dr. Mohamed. Please tell the team to be ready shortly. We need to take you all to the airport.”
11:16am: All non-essential military (me) ordered out of country.
12:30pm: Americans told to evacuate by embassy.

It is now 7am Jan 31st. I am sitting in an airport in the desert outside of Alex and have been here for about 16 hours. We will move later today with other student groups on a flight chartered by our insurance companies to Athens and from there I am not sure what will happen. I suspect we will go home, which puts put in international and more importantly academic limbo. I really hadn’t planned on going back to Drake for the semester. Some chatter has come about regarding going to Jordan. I don’t know if I can get clearance to be there.
Once again the students from the Midwest shine. Our student counterparts from another prestigious language program are all east coasters. They kept us up most of the night demanding to know what the embassy/State Dept/their universities/Mommy and Daddy were going to do about the “over 40 american citizens stranded in Alexandria. I heard one of the conversations with an FSO and a student:” Where are you?”
“We are stranded in Alexandria, there was armed men with sticks last night?” (The armed men with sticks, guns etc were protecting us at our place, I don’t know about their relationship with the neighbors, but Arabs are some of the nicest most protective folks possible. As we made the long walk down the road to our meeting point we all thanked the men guarding the barricade. They seemed to understand we were pulling out and honestly looked sad. I rendered salute at the end of our road and 3 snapped to and returned it with a solemn stare.)
“Where in Alex are you?”
“The airport”
You can imagine how the embassy staff reacted to that. We are in a safe location (lots of Army guards on the perimeter and plain clothes men with pistols here, who stayed up all night guarding the restaurant we are all sleeping in) and have plans to evacuate.
This really sucks we have to pull out, but the gunfire and looting was not a safe environment for us to be. Over the next few days I am sure I will go through a whole host emotions. There was so much that depended on this semester, and I have done a wonderful job of tying up my time at Drake until June. A Marine friend of mine once told me Semper Gumby-always flexible. That fits well with the “could be worse, it could be raining” mantra of optimism we take when coming here. I am flexible with all of the daily ritual of being here, I hadn’t really planned on my location for the next few months being flexible.
Well this generally tops all study abroad stories I have heard.
“So, I was once evacuated from Egypt during a revolution…

2011-02-01T02:52:00.001-08:00

Saturday-Jan 29th 6:36 PM Local
I woke up to not a cloud in the sky nor a cop on the street. I turned on the TV to see Mubarak had not stepped down but had sacked his ministers. That won’t be effective at all-the people want him out. Then I took a nap for a while as we waited for orders. I had a dream I could send one text to my folks to tell them I am safe.
We loaded the bus to head to the grocery store. People were directing traffic, taking the job the police were supposed to do. That was really inspiring. The notion of “we took down the police, so now we will fill in the spots” was really cool to see. We drove by one of the burned-out police stations and saw men who were looting being forced back by the citizens. One man had to return a rug by force of the people. (Currently I am watching the pictures of some of the looting that occurred in the museum in Cairo. I was so proud of this revolution and the calm shown by the protestors. There is a certain place in hell for someone who does this to a museum while his brothers are in the street fighting for their rights.) The street people all say “revolution,” while the news stations all say “protestors” or “demonstrators.” While walking around today, before the 4pm army instituted curfew we saw 20 military vehicles including a few tanks lined up on the main road in Alex.

A few hours ago I heard gunshots outside our apartment. The neighbors between a few apartments have barricaded the street and have armed themselves with pistols shotguns, 2x4s, golf clubs, and metal rods. Black smoke started to fill the sky again as the sun set over Alex. We are definitely in a state of emergency. We are safe though in our apartment. If something were to happen to one of our students though, we had no way to get them around the barricades to medical treatment. I doubt the looters will come our way, we are tucked away very far up on a ridge. I don't think we will be pulled out though.

Mubarak has appointed a VP-hasn’t been one for 30 years. A few of the other positions of the regime has been filled as well. I worry that once Mubarak does resign, celebratory gunfire will erupt.

8:10pm Gunfire rings out from the square 100 yards away. It is meant to keep the looters at bay, or so we hope. I checked the barricade that our neighbors built in our stairwell. I am not terribly excited about our only fireescape being blocked, however it adds to how real the perceived threat is. The scariest part is the Molotov cocktails which are primed and ready to be dropped on any attackers.

The selling point for my coming to Drake was when I found out we were getting an Arab professor. He was from Egypt and I was quite excited to be able to get there at some point. (Brits just announced to stay put if you are in the country and they are NOT yet pulling out.) I went with that professor in the past summer, and had a wonderful time. While there I learned quite heavily about the rigime, which augmented what I learned through Drake. Now I was really excited to at least put a professional grasp on Arabic from spending the semester here. I have been in Alex for almost 2 days now, and it has all gone to hell. This is the risk we take when we come to these places, so that we can learn a language and culture which will undoubtedly save American lives. Could I have gone and parties in Australia or London? Of course, but that would be a semester vacation. This semester will matter, and will undoubtedly be a story to tell my kids.
Some other photos of a revolution:

“And I said how ‘bout a revolution?”-OAR

2011-02-01T02:35:00.000-08:00

It’s 9:05pm on Friday in Alexandria, Egypt. I am safe, up in our apartment. We just stayed as a team for 3 hours in the girl’s apartment. Tomorrow we intend to meet early and see what the country looks like…

This morning I woke up early. Ironically my last facebook post was that “I know how to get around the facebook block.” The government this morning shut down all internet and it still continues to be shutdown. (I will post this as soon as we get internet.) Then the cell service went, and we were only given (ironically) Emergency service. We had intended to go to the fort, the museum, and then shopping for stuff in our apartments. Originally we were told upon loading the bus “the museum has been closed for security reasons.” As we left the fort, the police ordered us to head back to our residences. One of our leaders was at a hotel, and mentioned they had blacked-out the first floor of her hotel which was right next to the rally point for the protest. The IFSA Cairo team, scheduled to land in two days, was also postponed. That is what really got me excited.
Police originally had no limits and exercised zero tolerance. (WORDS NOT APPROPRIATE FOR INTERNET?: CNN IS PROFILING THE TWITTER FEEDS. WE DON’T HAVE INTERNET OR CELL! THE WORLD TWEETING DOESN’T EFFECT THE PEOPLE ON THE STREETS, FOCUS ON THE RIOTS AND GUNFIRE)
Today is Friday and therefore Friday Prayer (which is like the Sunday service in the States.) Police in Alex opened up with tear gas as protestors left the main mosque. Rubber bullets were also used. Much of this we watched from a café as “Love me Tender” by Elvis came over.
That afternoon I was overcome by my sense of adventure. I headed down to the smaller protest area to take some pictures (Insert) from a safe distance. I was looking for an elevated/safe position. It was very interesting to see how many folks were concerned about my presence. “American? Not safe, go home.” (We are sitting in our apartment right now singing revolution songs, the police just left the streets and are nowhere to be seen. Still watching CNN.) Anyways back to my trek: I eventually caught up with the protest while crisscrossing through side streets and train stations in order to not be picked up by the internal security because I had a backpack with a big camera. I jumped ahead of the protest, right infront of a police station. Using Arabic, I asked if I could come up to a family’s balcony and take pictures. They said yes and I stayed to take some wide angle shots of the mass of the protest on their way to join the larger group. I thanked them and then jumped back ahead. I ended up a half hour down the road following black smoke. I came upon large car fires. Smoke started to fill the air from other fires. Young men told me “No more Msr” (Egypt.) Then I came upon another fire, and another. 3 fires in less than 20 minutes? Time to head back. “6pm curfew from the Egyptian Army.” It’s 530 and I am still on the other side of town with fires between me and home. Shit. Time to hike it out. (CNN is saying Islamic threat for a new government. Not true. The military will, and the majority of Egyptians will not support a Muslim brotherhood government. This movement is so special because it is not an Islamic, it is everyone from all walks of life. If America continues to support regimes, in sheer terror of the brotherhood it will backfire like it has with Mubarak.) I was going down an alley and a guy saw me. He gave me a lift back to my area, with me keeping my hand on the car door to bail if need be-couldn’t do that in America. He was legitimately worried about my safety as I was a visitor to his country.) Smoke continued to fill the skyline. (On my balcony, I was overcome by tear gas which has mixed with smoke and filled the city.) We were stopped and had to backtrack because of the protests. When 6pm came around, we were still 2 miles out. I said I was faster on foot, thanked him profusely and skirted around the protest to my apartment. 2 miles in jeans and loafers. 15 minutes with full camera pack, my running partners would be proud. My blister is turning into a pain though. I got (Switched to Aljazeera English-“Protestors form human shield to keep Cairo museum from being looted.” God Bless this country!) Back to my apartment. No one was home, went to the other male apartment. No one home. Went to girl’s place. Building door locked. I am alone in a country with a revolution, and no way to tell folks I am okay. Interesting feeling, but hey this really beats a semester in Australia! Got back to my place and grabbed my laptop, packed another small bag to bail on the country if need be. Then went back to check one last time, and found my team. Thankfully too as my plan would have included, sit tight in apartment till light, make it to the port, jump on a ship and head to Italy. We all ended up at the girl’s apartment where I started writing this.
We have seen the Army rolling into the cities, and the police aren’t anywhere to be seen. Tanks and gunfire are reported. The ruling party building has been burned in Cairo, and one in Alex along with many government vehicles. I have heard a fair amount of gunfire going from traveling between the apartments, which is discomforting. I am really worried about being pulled out of the country.
OAR is still playing in the background singing the line “so I said how ‘bout a revolution?”

Eve of more Protests

2011-01-27T11:41:00.001-08:00

New riot update:
Text received en-route to Alex from a close friend in Egypt who is a member of the government:
Hope you arrived safely. Avoid to hang out today as Alexandria started a lot of protest specially in mahatet elraml and bakoos.

I thought they would have two days at most. Tomorrow is Friday, the day of prayer. It has been dubbed “angry prayer day.” The imams will get everyone riled up and then the protests will supposedly start after prayer. Of course our group (which mind you is quite good at these things: they were the first ones in Cuba and the last ones out, and have never willingly pulled out of a country) will be doing tourist things.
Alexandria is a much more conservative town than Cairo. This is where the recent New Years day bombings were. On the way in I saw a huge billboard with the Islamic crescent and the Christian cross filled in with the Egyptian flag. I translated the first line to read “I am Egyptian.” I asked our director what the second line said. He looked down and said “I am pleased you know the first line, and I hope you never have to know the second. It says ‘I am not a terrorist.”
Less than a month ago a bomb rocked the town I am now in, which led to riots. Supposedly tomorrow will bring the same, insha’allah-God Willing.
Oh and the government blocked facebook, so for those of you keeping up with this, the Egyptian Government will not be "liking" my post. (Some friends showed me the way around it, thankfully)

Egyptian Day of Anger

2011-01-27T08:14:00.000-08:00

In response to the Tunisian situation in which violent protests ousted a tyrannical regime, Egypt has tried to follow suit. This has lead to some pretty interesting bus rides through town. On Tuesday Egypt had a national holiday, when most folks are off of work. Ironically “Police Day,” the holiday taken in order to pay homage to the police (read-security forces) was the national holiday picked for the protests. That morning the largest Egyptian news paper ran the front page article of the trial and mugshot of the Alexandria bomber-solidifying a government crackdown against any opposition. (The following day after massive protests, the paper discussed such movements, in Lebanon.) Tension filled the air that morning, along with the playful screams of boys. These boys were the conscripted army members from upper (Souther; Nile flows down river/North) with billy clubs being assembled at chokepoints. Egypt has a rule which states one cannot make Egypt look bad abroad. That along with Embassy orders kept our cameras down as we drove past. However it was interesting as the boys blew kisses at our bus and waved. A few hours later some of them would be engaged with rock throwers, a few cars and tires lit on fire, and massive demonstration. Tear gas (wouldn’t that be a cool souvenir?) and water cannons were used against the demonstrators. As we were coming back from the pyramids the following day, we noticed many cars were parked along the side of the bridge we were on. Looking down we saw a small street with a platoon of police with riot gear engaged with protestors who were throwing rocks and sticks. This is the one decent picture I got of the incident, which was safe to take from an elevated and moving position. () As we continued our drive we passed a few gas stations which had all of the workers (full service) standing out in front flagging the entrance so that folks could not buy gas to use. It was all very intense but seems rather ineffective. There is no legitimate opposition to the ruling party. American fears of a Muslim Brotherhood takeover play well into the regime’s strategy, and most Egyptians I have talked to would not support a Brotherhood government. The movement is a step in the right direction, but Egypt is following Tunisia’s lead, which has a significantly smaller population. Will this end in my extraction from some rooftop by helicopter? Not at all. People will complain and make facebook statements and then they will go back to watching soccer. Mubarak had a plane gassed up and ready to bolt, and rumors are his sun has left for London. With these actions the rich leader’s playground of a country is slowly dwindling. The scariest thing is who, or what will the next leader look like?

In other news: Packers won. I searched for an hour and a half walking all over the western parts of Cairo for a hotel to watch the game and have become intimately familiar with the expat bars. No luck however. On my way back I saw a man in a Bass Pro Shop hat, which scream American to me. I asked him if he was American. He said “La Habibi ana msrie” (no my son/love/young one I’m Egyptian) I then asked in Arabic if he knew where I could find the American football game. He said he would recommend New York. We then talked about what I was doing in Egypt and how I found his country. All in Arabic. I am getting much better at the language.

This is a country of contrasts. One day we were at the pyramids- a symbol of strength and old wonder, the next day the largest mall in the Middle East where I had a hotdog from Hardee’s and an Auntie Ann’s pretzel. Right now I am on the road to my new home on the coast. The drive is beautiful with many Mediterranean style compounds with lush (by desert standards) date trees. The two days of protests seemed to have subsided, leaving both sides asking “now what?” For me the answer is simple; go to the coast, learn Arabic, and take good pictures. Things happen here just like the rise and fall of the Nile, it is part of life. Sometimes change happens quickly, sometimes over longer periods of time. I am excited to see what change will come when I get to Alexandria.

Leaving on a Jet plane

2011-01-20T22:43:00.000-08:00

It’s about 8 in the morning here. I am sitting on the 11th story balcony, overlooking an area of Cairo from out apartment for the next few days. Steam comes off my freshly made cup of tea (look mom, no hands!) as the sun starts to warm up the city. It will get up 70 today, and I couldn’t be happier.
Plane ride over to Europe was great. I have never flown in a 747, and flirted my way to an open row with the nice woman at check in. I got all 4 seats to myself and promptly went to sleep sprawled out. When I woke up we were in Europe. Most of my friends, and many Drake students will get off at the European stop. They will see wonderful things, probably taste wonderful liquids of varying results, and be immersed in a different western lifestyle. My European adventure consisted of a frankfurter (when in Frankfurt) a beer and another nap. Eiffel towers, cathedrals, and tapas places are fine, but some crave a little more adventure.
I am not sure what it takes to come to the Middle East. We met a group of students headed to American University Cairo. There was a confidence amongst both teams, a sort of “I’m ready to take on the world” mentality. Undoubtedly the stresses of Middle Eastern life for Americans will rear up at some point. We will be ready. The next week or so is orientation and acclamation before we push north to our actual apartment.
The tea is getting cold.
-IW

Changes in latitudes...

2011-01-18T14:37:00.000-08:00

6,000 miles. 23kg luggage allowance. 4 months, 2 weeks, 2 days. 181 pounds (I fully expect to drop back to 165, upon return I am starting the new fad diet: falafel and hummus, Atkins beware!) 1 hideous beard. All set to roll down the tarmac.
I’m all packed up, ready to go off on another adventure. This time it won’t be for a week in Des Moines. Or even three weeks playing tourist down the Nile. I have prepared for this ever since Ms. Brey said “hey, want to go to Jordan?” I will be exceeding previous stays in the region by more than double. This time there is no mission; no metrics to be judged upon, no team to oversee. The goal is simple: be. Learn more Arabic. Open up the world, and come back with stories. There will be lots of stories.
Almost all of my previous posts have been song names or lyrics, so in that fashion I will end with the following:
“Reading departures signs in some big airport reminds me of the places I’ve been…Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure make me want to go back again!”
So I will.
See you in the Sandbox!

Golden Glow

2011-01-07T14:49:00.001-08:00

The day started off rather dreary and cold. This would be my last day on Drake’s campus for quite a long time. When I left work today at the admissions office, I wandered through Meredith and then by Morehouse-the places I have spent the majority of my Drake time. As I came out, the sun was setting, casting the warmest of golden glows on campus. I will miss Drake very much, but cannot wait to start the Egypt trip…

Normally I start these trip blogs with some sort of this is why I am going, what I believe we will accomplish, etc. This time is different. I am not leading anyone, I do not have a particular mission other than to just be there. We don’t have State Department meetings, embassy parties, or a schedule outside of classes. I am quite excited for this change of pace from my other endeavors in the region. I am also looking forward to the photography opportunities and challenges, which I hope to share here.

In terms of the recent bombings in my future city, which left 21 dead, we will keep our eyes open and our security tight. However we cannot, and will not back down. Putting Americans in the region, learning the language will continue to minimize the chances of these atrocities happening again, as was the case in Jordan. No Americans were targeted or killed in this particular attack, and both Butler and other organizations I seek counsel from have deemed it a safe place to travel. Regardless of kill counts and risk, dialogue promotes peace, and soft diplomacy, of a people to people style is one of the best ways to promote a common understanding between cultures.

“A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for”-G. Hopper

Validation

2010-11-17T10:43:00.001-08:00

In my endeavors with leadership at Drake I came across a book which has done wonders for me. It’s your Ship by Captain Abrashoff would be on my must read to lead list. One of the simple and effective notions discussed is validation. Everyone, regardless of your job, likes to know they are appreciated. The best leaders will take time to make sure they have face time with everyone in the organization to at genuinely thank them for what they do. I had this experience working in the admissions department, where I am the lowest ranked person. I do clerical work. If you are reading this as a prospective student, chances are any mailing you received, I and my cohorts of minimum wage earners assembled. A few days ago the head-honcho of our entire department came into our room. There is generally no reason to be in our room-other than the coffee machine, but he is on a different floor, and presumably has an office big enough for his own coffee machine. He stopped by just to say hello, chat with us and then at the end thanked us for what we were doing. Is what we do glorious work, no, its mundane, but it is sincerely appreciated by the top brass and knowing that helps ease the monotony. Imagine if the general came in to talk to privates just to say hey I really appreciate the work you are doing for this organization. Chances are they would remember that.
Instill validation in your own leadings. Every man in the fraternity was asked to give me the addresses and birthdays of his parents/guardians. On those birthdays I send a card from all of us brothers. At the end I always put in something about their son that I appreciate, an idea I borrowed from the book. I, like Captain Abrashoff, had a member come to me and thank me for sending that, and his father told him that he was proud of him, which didn’t happen often. It was a fantastic feeling.

All the Small Things

2010-11-05T09:44:00.001-07:00

Last night was a pretty cool evening. In fact this whole year has delivered many “I love college” moments.
Millions of years ago Greek Life stood for building better men and women and fraternal bonds with everyone. One of the ways this was shown to the sorority women was through serenades. Every Greek organization has a sweetheart song (ours is the Rose of Pi Kappa Phi.) Serenades have evolved into a song written about the sorority followed up by the sweetheart song. This allows for as much creativity and fun as possible. Last night was probably the best one we have ever done. Ironically there were only three of us to serenade the women of Kappa Alpha Theta. The other houses easily all had at least 20 guys. We went 2nd to last and walked into the room packed with probably 80 Theta girls. I set down the plastic Rock Band drum set while Alex and Ben strapped up their guitar hero guitars. We hit play on the ipod and went into a Theta specific version of Blink 182’s All the Small Things (All the Thetas.) We rocked it and had the sorority girls up on their feet jumping around and rocking out. Then the three of us dropped to our knee and barber shop quarteted (new word) our Sweetheart Song. This is the first time Pi Kappa Phi took first in a serenade.
Shortly after I put on a suit and tie and argued before the entire Student Senate for their endorsement of Drake Sportsmen’s club to give student a venue to learn how to safely enjoy firearms. It also went brilliantly. It has been quite some time before I have argued before a large group (mock trial high school) and it is still a rush. Not bad for a Thursday night.

Take it Easy

2010-11-03T14:38:00.001-07:00

Four bands exist on my bucket list. In no particular order: Green Day, Blink 182, Jimmy Buffett, and the Eagles. I recently got to check off one, which puts me at 50%.
Friday evening I was out with a buddy hanging out with more buddies, doing buddy things. After sinking a remarkable shot, I checked my phone. The text message I had received read the following: Sunday evening, would you be my guest at the Eagles if you don’t have anything to do?”
The implications of that text made my weekend. In fact this last month has been fantastic! (Marathon, Eagles, Birthday, making use of 21st birthday)
There have been many times in my life when the Eagles have given much much comfort. This past summer, sitting on the beach south of the Suez I was switching between Jimmy and the Eagles, and it was simply amazing. As I sat in the Wells Fargo Arena in downtown Des Moines, the same feeling swept over. In fact I generally have this rather stupid looking smug on my face when I become extremely happy and excited. My cheeks hurt from 3 hours of smiling. The most magical moment was when my favorite song came on: Take it to the limit, one more time…

Visitors n Shakes

2010-09-30T11:33:00.001-07:00

Big news at Drake: yesterday Obama came to the residence of our Athletic director, and was even quoted as saying “Go Bulldogs.” (There is reason enough to come to Drake.) Today Justice Scalia is coming to give a lecture. (Long time readers will remember Roberts my first year.) Tomorrow is fireworks! It should all be a pretty cool week.
I went to Drake Diner last night. If you ever find yourself near Drake, in Des Moines or West of the Mississippi, you need to stop at Drake Diner for the shakes. Chocolate and Peanut Butter milkshake is guaranteed to cure any school stress and may also be linked to the elixir of life.

2010-09-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

"When you photograph people in color you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in B&W, you photograph their souls!" ~Ted Grant

A friend and I explored Des Moines the other day, this is probably my favorite shot of our time together. As I am currently stateside, the musings here will lose some of their "frontline" flavor. I hope to replace them with different photographs of my travels and the Drake area. Enjoy!

here we go again

2010-08-16T13:25:00.001-07:00

I am now entering my junior year at Drake. This semester will be marked with new struggles and triumphs. I hope to be able to share most with you. This semester will also have an underlying tone (keeping with the theme) of gearing up for going abroad for the semester. The spring semester will find me in Alexandria Egypt, away from the cold Iowa winter, speaking Arabic and enjoying argeelah, on the Mediterranean sea.
The struggles coming up will revolve around fraternity life, transitioning to being an upperclassmen, finding a job, and the normal college “stuff.”
Wednesday marks one of the events I am most proud of for Drake, First Year Move-in. About 800 first years are coming in. They will park their minivans and u-hauls by the side of the road to check in. When they come out with room assignment and keys, an army of upperclassmen will descend on them to carry their stuff up. This is how we welcome them to the Drake family. (Generally we can get it all with one run of folks.) Everyone helps out, from the Greeks, the religious groups, the service groups, the academic groups. One of my favorite stories from last year goes something like this:
New First year mother is in happy shock from the support and help her son was receiving. There was about one more load and an older man in the same move-in crew t-shirts as the rest of the teams bent down to help carry it. The mother asked if he was a Res Hall coordinator of some sort. He replied “Ma’am it is a pleasure to meet you, my name is President Maxwell.”
Everyone helps.

Gone Fishin'

2010-06-06T23:32:00.001-07:00

The trip is over. I am one twelve hour flight from Chicago, a three hour drive home, and hopefully a large amount of Wisconsin 2% milk. I am in Istanbul airport right now. This is a much smaller version of the international Mecca that is Heathrow. A few differences I noticed while in the open air (it’s raining, which is an enjoyable change) smoking lounge enjoying one of Cuba’s finest that I can’t bring back into my homeland include the lack of English being spoken by the smokers. Judging by the stereotypes of the 20 or so folks enjoying their nicotine fix I was the only American. Once again, abroad and alone like the desert, or my latest adventure in Egypt: the sea.
We got up before the call the prayer. As the 3,000+ Imams of the mosques were getting ready to climb the stairs of their minarets(or more realistically, turn on the microphone) that would cascade over a sleeping Cairo for the morning prayer, we were on a bus headed northeast to Ein Soukna, the area just south of the Suez Canal. Upon arrival we stowed our gear, and many people took advantage of the natural cradle provided by a marriage of our ship the Prince Omar, and the Red Sea. Those of us that were awake threw lines off the stern for the two hour journey to the fishing spot in the middle of the Red Sea. Large cargo and oil ships heading into or out of the Suez surrounded us. I imagine this is what Lord Nelson felt like on a daily basis with control of a massive armada. Our mission was less imperialistic. We were going to conquer the sea in the form of a noble and long lasting tradition and join the Somalian pirates further down the coast in a calling that Captain Jack Sparrow would be proud of: fishing. Gone Fishin’.
A boy becomes a man when one thing happens in his life: he is too big for the bathtub. The fierce naval battles I waged in-between rinse and repeat could have easily been taking place around me with the vast amount of shipping we saw. Once we reached our spot we reveled in the fact that we were between Africa and Asia.
Two things have always existed: Allah and Egypt. Both have continuously stood the test of time. God has always been worshiped in Egypt, though sometimes in a plural form. The religious devotion the Egyptians have had whether it be the Pharaohs or the Copts and Muslims is something I really admired. It was a hell of trip. I was a little “templed and tombed” out by the end but really glad to have seen almost all of Egypt.
On our last night I had the best hookah of my life. This was at a café in our new neighborhood where we were for the last 4 days. Zamalek is very much like Wisconsin Ave in D.C. It is chalk full of embassies and Victorian style buildings. It is quiet with many perfect and hidden cafes. At the last one of these, where I increased my affection for shisha, I managed to enjoy the bubbling smoke, a burger, tea and lemon juice for $12.00. Egypt was very inexpensive, unlike the current duty free areas I have been frequenting in order to be able to cash hard on the long flight from Istanbul to Chicago.
Hopefully I can find some inspiration above the clouds and get in a final post. A lack of a drinking age at 35,000 feet may help. Just kidding. See you soon.

I'm on a boat

2010-05-31T22:32:00.000-07:00

This last week has been a blur. Apologies for not staying up to date but we have gone from the very northern end in Alexandria all the way to Lake Nasser in the south via train. We just trained it back to Cairo and are now finishing this whirlwind vacation at a resort by the Red Sea.
Alexandria was a very classy town. The people were much better mannered than Cairo. It was also older and the romance of the sea seemed to bring out a lighter side of folks. Interestingly enough I got some of my best people shots there, mostly of couples and families. The lack of public displays of affection that I have grown accustomed to between mix genders (not to be confused with the heterosexual “bro-mance” which runs rampant through this region) was completely shot as Alexandria appeared to be quite the romantic destination for Muslim and Arab couples of all ages. The hotel was very nice, as was the full glass of milk that I had at it.
We got to see the fort of Alexandria in which stood the lighthouse (one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world, no longer standing) as well as the new Library of Alexandria. For a nerd such as myself, this was an epic sight to behold, and I am I am going to try to change my study abroad from Jordan Spring 2011, to Alexandria 2011. I got to link up with my Arabic teacher from the last year, Sarah and met her cousins and mother. That was a treat as well, and I will meet some of her other family shortly.
After Alexandria we got back to Cairo, and then got on a train for twelve hours to Aswan (the most southern real city in Egypt.) We saw the High Dam, which symbolized Nasser’s control of Egypt, played tons of political significance in ensuring his power, and tamed the Nile. As alluded to in previous posts we were on a cruise ship for 3 nights. This we took from Aswan to Luxor, visiting temples and tombs along the way. Every night we were in port I got to venture to a local café and continue my loyalty to the water-pipe. Shisha (the tobacco smoked from these aka hookah) is the best in the middle east. Were I in Maine, I am certain I would have lobster every night, Hawaii: fruits, Egypt: shisha. In luxor a big soccer game was on for the Egypt cup, so I went to a local café and made friends-in Arabic. It was really nice to just relax on the boat, get a little sun, and watched the Nile lazily passing by. My affinity for boats under sail also grew when we got to take a Felucca around the nile. Imagine a wide sailboat with an odd rigging for river running. It was glorious. I also managed to convince the captain to let me take a dip in the nile-2 km south of the High dam. This was really dumb as I lost the rope and drifted a bit for the boat to come pick me up. All that time treading water in swim lessons, gym, and ROTC came in handy. Regardless it was still really cool, as I have now swam at both ends of the Nile. (side note-Discovery channel does a pretty neat Imax about rafting the Nile from start to finish, passing by many of the areas we did).
The Valley of the Kings in Luxor contained the burial chambers for 60 kings. Admission ticket allows entrance into three. (King Tut’s had a huge line, and I had seen all the treasure in the Museum) I do not remember the three I went in, but it was definitely a bit of an odd feeling. In the last tomb, which was 1km deep, I was the only one in it. I kept checking over my shoulder to see a mummy running at me selling cheap tourist trinkets. The intricate drawings on the tombs and then the other temples we saw we interesting, but then tend to blend together. Seeing some of the old temples still brings awe as they are huge and no modern tools were used to build them.
In terms of safety the Israeli raid on a Gaza bound flotilla has been on our minds. However we are safe, and keeping our eyes open. I have full trust and confidence in our leadership. Our security has been strengthened (right now I am sitting next to a federal judge who is coming to the beach with us) so we will be fine and there is no cause for alarm. I hope the situation gets sorted out soon though.
Just less than a week left till I am back in the land of cheese curds and beer. The other day I had a McDonalds chocolate shake which ought to hold over my American fix. This has been a fantastic trip and I am hoping to end it with a safe bang. So far that looks like a fishing expedition at the Red Sea. If I find Nemo, I will let you know.

Jingle Bells

2010-05-29T05:53:00.001-07:00

“Jingle bells, Jingle bells, jingle all the way…” There is nothing that makes the time go by faster in the desert than singing Christmas carols. We were divided up into a convoy of Land Rovers after a 5 hour drive to an oasis in the western desert. Then we drove another few hours stopping along the way to see the Black Desert, the Crystal Desert and eventually stopping in the White Desert to watch the sunset and build camp. Sunsets in the desert are always gorgeous and I strongly believe they are like first kisses: magical, memorable, and over far too quickly.
On our way to our destination we had to pass through a few checkpoints. I wonder who on earth a soldier has to piss off to get stationed in such a remote area to check tourist buses heading into the absolute middle of nowhere.
The sunsets are always amazing here. (Interruption-we are now sailing on the Nile underway on a 146 person cruise boat, of which I am part of the team of 20 of the 30 passengers who are sailing-it’s off season.) There is a scene in the original Star Wars movie when Luke is looking out over the double sunset of his native desert planet. This was much akin to that. The sunset would turn the desert sand a crimson red and give much reflection to the white mounds of rock in which the area derives it’s namesake.
Much of the area we were in appeared to be virgin desert. Wandering off a few hundred yards from camp I felt the true vast expanse and raw power of this place. Other than my team there was nothing and no one out here. I shot for a fair amount of the night, but under a very bright sun, and white reflective rocks it made for nothing spectacular in terms of beauty above the horizon. My real quest was my ever elusive star photography. This is a hobby I have taken a great interest in with the technical skill required, the luck needed, the inspiration and joy I and others get from seeing it, as well as the bonding it has allowed me to do with my father and friends.
I took a short nap as the moon started to set, only to be woken up around 4am covered in a blanket of stars. I couldn’t decide which there was more of: sand in the desert that was now my bed, or stars in the sky. My old friend the milky way also hung in sheer brilliance seductively straight-legged across the sky. I grabbed my camera and tripod and raced out a few hundred yards (perhaps a hundred too many) to a location I had scouted earlier, pausing for a moment to realize just how much these formations all look the same. I tested my shots and finally dialed my settings in for a perfect kill. I hit the shutter remote and stepped back. Realizing just how dumb I was racing out here without water, a light, my pack, or my sleeping mat I slowly followed my footprints back to camp to retrieve my belongs and settle in for a wonderful hour till the sun once again pulled away my starry blanket.
Walking back to camp, one of the brightest shooting stars etched the night sky with the brilliance and shine of Pharaoh’s jewelry. I gathered my belongings and put in my Ipod to my star playlist. Hiking back across the desert to my camera was akin to searching for a lighthouse on the coast. My camera had one small red light on the backside to show it was busy. This was my beacon, guiding me through the night. (don’t worry Dad, I had a pretty good idea where I was going.) Upon laying down next to my set-up as my camera went into dark frame I got to take in what this trip meant. This is the third time in my life I am back in this region, one that has always been a mystery to most Americans. Kids, and now at this point, young adults from Wisconsin do not go here, much less three times in 4 years. It was a real treat to get out of Cairo and be up amongst the vastness of the heavens. As my shot finished “Here comes the sun” came on. A rather fitting end.

King of the Road

2010-05-24T00:14:00.001-07:00

It is 7:43 am. We got up for the first call to prayer at roughly 4:30, and then again at 5:50. Then we got all of our gear into the van-no small feat with 20 Drake students, professors, armed security detail, His Honor judge Zamir, and all of our water and snacks. We are now headed for a 4 hour ride to an oasis in the Eastern desert. Then it is a 5 hour ride (with stops) to go to our camp out in the desert. This is one of the most exciting parts of the trip for me and I have been prepping for the astrophotography possibilities for the past two days. It is also the reason I brought my tripod-which also acts as an international fist of diplomacy in the Turkish airport when I whipped around and almost took out a bunch of Turkish tourists. (‘Merica!) This is going to be a long car ride, and I already have “King of the Road” stuck in my head. Could be a very long trip.
Recap-
Friday- We got off the bus at more pyramids, this time the first pyramids built. We were greeted with more people hawking cheap tourist stuff. As our lovely American women departed they were greeted with “want a postcard? Want a husband?” The pyramids were cool, and so were the tombs. The 2nd pyramid we saw was the most encased pyramid (none of the great pyramids have the casing still on-the Christians and Romans took all of it for construction, apparently the great pyramids were not deemed important then.) We got to go inside of it! This required a 100m climb up the outside, and then at a 45 degree angle in a shaft about 3 feet tall, descended another hundred meters into the heart of the pyramid. It rank of something foul in there (dead mummy and 3,000 years of tourist sweat probably doesn’t go well together.) On the way up, well they didn’t build an elevator. Therefore we went up the same, far too small, far too long shaft:
Ladies and Gentlemen I am copyrighting a new workout plan. Guaranteed to destroy your legs, all with minimal amounts of stale oxygen! Possible soreness exists for three days after. Call now and you can get two pyramid works for the price of one!
On the way back we had a great lunch, filled with grilled up meats. It was great. We were then taken to a place that had all different forms of juices (I got my first chocolate shake-it is a life goal of mine, to have a chocolate shake in every country) It is really nice to see our professors let loose a little and sitting around trying the different juices really bonded the team together.
That evening a few of us went downtown to smoke hookah and enjoy the downtown area. Chalk up milkshake number two! The conversation with out Egyptian guide eventually turned to 9/11. “I was shocked, we all were. We watched it live on the news!” At this moment “Allahu Ackbar” (The first part of the call to prayer-translations: God is Great) rang out across the city. It was very eerie considering the conversation.
Sat-another 8am start time. I am a morning person, but some of these nights go long. We went downtown to the citadel which is the oldest part of cairo built on a hill. Salahadin, the great General who kept the Christians out of Jerusalem during the crusades (history is a told a little different down here) built a massive and gorgeous mosque. We also visited to the Muhammad Ali (father of modern Egypt-not the boxer) mosque as well as the sultan Hasan Mosque (Obama came and gave a speech here a few months ago.) This was ripe with excellent photo opportunities and regardless of what religion one is, the sheer power and vastness of these buildings and the peace that exists in them is to be admired.
One of the best parts was both our guide and our professor taught everyone who wanted to how to perform the ritual washing to pray. One of the best things about these sorts of trips is the learning that happens as well as being able to see our professors in their elements. It makes them even more personable and exponentially increases the respect and camaraderie we all have for them.
In a nod to fellow academics, our professor talked to an architecture professor whose students were at the mosque drawing for their final. We then had a quick cultural exchange with students our own age.
In fast succession we went to two Coptic churches, one that the holy family stayed at for 3 months when they were in Egypt (when Jesus was young) as well as an old synagogue.
Then we got to go to the old market. We split up into teams and let loose. Some people got great bargains (I got a jersey for 6 bucks, down from 30) some people got ripped off, but we got to see downtown Cairo and barter with shop keepers. I also got a few Khartoushes. These were the name plate necklaces that Pharaohs wore to identify themselves. They also happen to make great gifts. For dinner we ate pigeon (one could still make out the fried head) before heading to a sufi dance. Sufis are the ones who twirl, and the main guy spin in a circle for 24 minutes.
Interruption-We are finally out of Cairo in a vast open desert with few stops. Imagine the flatness and boredom of I-80 in Iowa but sans corn and add a really big sandbox. I just saw a sign, in English for a vineyard. “Uncork a good story.” It was catchy, but not sure if a bottle of wine is going to be the right thing to have on this road-I have seen three accidents this morning, and one truck completely tipped over already. The judge who is in the row next to me, informed us that the truck drivers are generally stoned. Oh, of course, which makes us going 80 miles an hour passing them all the more safe.
Yesterday (Sunday-The Arab start of the week) After all the stress and hard rolling the past few days we decided to take a much needed vacation. We headed to the closest part of the Red Sea, just south of the Suez, then sat my ass on a beach and popped in the ipod under the sun. As Jimmy Buffet’s “Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes” blasted followed up by Eagles “Take it to the limit.” Excellent day at the beach capped off by fried fish.
My Arabic teacher from the previous year joined us for the trip. She got to interact with our team and really got to open up about life for women in Egypt.
Our other Professor brought his 2 year old along. This has been an excellent addition. It gives us a chance to interact with little kids, and really brings out the motherly side of our very female strong group. Walking through the market, many Arabs reached down to fluff her hair, and pat her shoulder. In the Coptic church, a procession of Copts came in as we were leaving. The eldest woman grabbed the young kid from the professors hands and kissed her on the cheek talking about how beautiful the girl was. I am not entirely sure the child appreciates it, but it is interesting to see the reverence and importance the Arabs put on young children.

It's now 10:15am and I am still singing King of the Road. We stopped off at a truck stop. Apparently it is another 2 hours until relief, but score! we brought snacks. The Judge is really interesting and really funny. Half the team is sleeping. I have a mobile upload for my laptop, so even though I can't see any other cars, and there is nothing but flat desert, I can tweet and facebook (or update this).

See the pyramids along the nile

2010-05-20T23:23:00.001-07:00

My room overlooks one of the busiest roads in Cairo. It still amazes me that there is so much damn traffic. (20 million people in Cairo alone). I have no idea what it is like on the other side of the street, as to find out would require a suicidal death wish and lots of skill at the game frogger.
Recap:
Everywhere we go we have an undercover police escort. Secret service suit with an automatic weapon on his hip. They rotate every day and generally pretty cool guys but I have never had this kind of escort, so that is cool. (They will never have to be used, but generally keep the level of harassment down) We also had an actual police escort from the Airport to the hotel. Welcome to Egypt
Upon driving from the airport to hotel we got to pass a beautiful Mosque at night (which Obama spoke at a few months ago) as well as the old citadel. Then we took well deserved sleep to get up early Wednesday morning to go to the Museum.
While at the museum there were a ton of tourists. There was also an Egyptian college class that was having exams. The professor would call them all in individually to one of the large rooms and orally quiz them on anything in the museum. It looked really intense. The entire 2nd floor of the Egyptian Museum contains the finds from the tomb of King Tut. (Insert Steve martin clip-which was recited a fair amount of times-our guide had not seen it ☹) Seeing his golden mask was really cool. These are items we see in history books and National Geographic magazines all the time but are now just a few inches away.
As we were driving, and even from the roof of our hotel is the pyramids of Giza. One of the 7 wonders of the world, it is a real treat to always be so close to “the pyramids along the Nile…” The next day we would go exploring at the pyramids and the sphinx.
That evening we enjoyed a traditional Arabic dinner, on the Nile, with hookah. It was epic. As the sounds bubbles from the water pipes gently washed over us after a filling meal, a half moon started to kiss the Cairo landscape. It was toasted by my tea, which as memory will recall, is always fantastic in this region.
Thursday
We got up and had breakfast and then hit the pyramids. They are huge, and gorgeous. It still amazes me that something so large was built a few thousand years ago, with minimally basic tools, sleds, and a lot o slave labor. Then we moved to the outer limits of the pyramids for a great view of all three, and many of our team rode camels-some for the first time. I got some decent pictures out of all this (I am still mad I didn’t bring a polarizing lens, the sun is pretty intense, though thankfully the heat hasn’t been bad at all…yet.) This was all followed up with a trip down the desert to the guardian of the three great pyramids: the sphinx. I still can’t get over the fact that I am standing only a few feet from these massive and famous structures. The pyramids can even be climbed over in certain parts.
The 2nd pyramid was open. We got to actually climb down into the burial chamber. This was a very long and narrow chamber as one is supposed to come to the dead king on their knees, so for Jeff and I-both of whom are 6’2 it was a little tight. Still very cool to say I have now been inside one of the Great Pyramids of Egypt.
We then went to a papyrus making place. It was interesting to see how they made it, essentially the same way as originally a few thousand years ago. Then we grabbed a massive lunch of great Arabic meats (I also picked up a box of fruitloops-which I am enjoying now) We finished off the day with a lecture on Egyptian courts from a D.A. who is responsible for taking down government officials in bribery/extortion cases of over 1 million pounds. That evening we went to the traditional Arabic symphony. On the bus ride back, our driver was belting the soundtrack from Sound of Music.

Back in the Saddle Again

2010-05-19T14:52:00.000-07:00

Monday 5/17/8:00pm CST Made it to O’Hare. Sitting in the international terminal now. In Chicago, someone decided it was brilliant to not have a single restaurant in the international terminal after security. People’s last stand in America, some of them for the rest of their lives, but they can’t even get a damn McDonalds cheeseburger! So I had planned to eat dinner here. No go, save for the expensive snack items. It is an eclectic group sitting around here. We look very different to begin with, but at least we are all Drake students. Majors and ages differ widely which is nice as I am not with the same folks as classes.
The flight is going to be just under 11 hours. This may be the longest jaunt I have ever done. Istanbul airport ought to be really entertaining. I am sitting next to one of my friends, which will make this flight pretty nice. I have full intentions of falling asleep though.
Dr. Cadd is bringing his family with. His daughter is really cute. The young girl is very lucky to have such an experience at her age. I think the first time I went overseas was with the French club in 10th grade. It was good training for things like this. Somewhere over the Atlantic when I wake up I will hopefully come up with something more interesting to read.
We are parked next to an Air Lingus plane bound for Dublin. The setting sun was right over the tail and greatly illuminated the cloud soaked sky in a crimson color. It was a great ending to a long day…Red Sky at Night, Sailor Delight. I will soon be sailing amongst the clouds on to the next great adventure.

Tuesday 5/18/10 8:00pm Istanbul Airport
The plane ride was great. I had some sleeping pills which worked pretty well. When I was awake, the Turkish airlines flight provided lots of entertainment. Everyone had audio and video on demand. Imagine our own personal dvd as well as Ipod that could be called up whenever you felt the urge. It took me a few tries to get through Master and Commander due to sleep but it was worth it. There was also a constantly supply of free drinks (all forms-which doesn’t mix well with sleep meds so I didn’t bother.) However once we got to our 6 hour layover, I could have a beer as Turkey’s laws are 18 (I think, we were not actually carded). We also planned out our “duty free” purchases upon our return flight. One of the shops had plenty of samples of Turkish Delight, which is a finger dessert that is pretty good.
I am really excited to get to Egypt. It will only be a 2 or 3 hour flight. The team is working well. I am right outside of a starbucks (which doesn’t have free Wi-fi so I am not sure when I can post all this. They are playing Ray Charles “You don’t know me.” It is pretty cool and I am sure a step above the “Istanbol was Constantinople” rendition some of the more musically eclectic of our team was singing earlier.
Anyways back to Egypt: we get in at two in the morning, sleep for a few hours then head to the museums. It will be nice to get right into it, but I am a little worried about jetlag. I am mostly excited for a shower. The last one I had was more than 24 hours ago as it is currently noon Tuesday at home. We are 8 hours ahead for the whole trip. Going to try to get some airport sleep (which is only slightly below dorm futon sleep). See you in the morning.

I am posting this after having been in Egypt for a whole day, I just haven't had the time to write about it. Shortlist: Saw the Pyramids (which we will be touring tomorrow), saw King Tut's mask/tons of other stuff at the Museum, and had dinner...on the Nile River, Hookah included.

See the Pyramids along the Nile

2010-04-06T14:14:00.000-07:00

Back in the saddle again! This Bulldog, after an almost two year stateside stint, is once again going to be abroad. I am once again returning to the sandbox that is the Middle East. This time I am staying in Egypt for 3 weeks. I am going with Drake, and am really excited!
Two of my favorite professors, Dr. Hamad, and Dr. Cadd are leading the trip. We will be taking two classes while there, one of Islam and politics, as well as a general Modern Egypt class. This is going to be very different than my last trips to the region. The last two was more spent on Arabic, whereas this will be more from the international relations side, as well as country specific study. The stress of leading will be greatly reduced too.
I am most excited for what Egypt has to offer. Jordan is great, but is generally a side trip for those coming to Egypt and Israel. It has always been a dream of mine to see the Pyramids as well as the Nile river (cue the song You Belong to Me: See the pyramids along the Nile, watch the sunrise on a tropic isle.)
As we close in on the trip I will be providing more, as well as in-country reporting. Sorry for my absence in the past, but this will hopefully wet your appetite again.

to look a lot like Christmas

2009-11-15T11:00:00.000-08:00

I am really stoked for the upcoming Jolly Holiday lights. Waterworks Park, which is a fairly decent size park in downtown Des Moines with the river winding through it, will feature massive light creations. Think of the neighborhood Christmas lights on steroids! All of the proceeds go to help United way as well. The first night of the month long part there are no cars allowed. It is all walk through. One of the ROTC guys mentioned every soldier should grab a date that evening and head to it. Who knew some of these men had a romantic side?
I have been sick quite recently so I have been trying to get over that. Pretty sure I have made more tea in the last week than all of England for the last century. Hopefully that gets over quick because I need my voice back.
Basketball started this weekend. With a loss, but they will get back. Iowa state game is Tuesday. The place will be packed. I am really excited for that.

running down a dream

2009-10-25T13:00:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on a tattoo:
I have been thinking of getting a tattoo. I decided I would want one only to commemorate an amazing event. Therefore I started searching for amazing events and decided on the marathon. A friend once told me “there are days when I do not want to run the Marathon, and there will be a lifetime of knowing I have.
I looked at interesting ones to run. One of the biggest setbacks is I live in an area not conducive to running for 4 months of the year. I despise running indoors due to the constant need to turn and stale air. Treadmill is also a no-no. That would get ungodly boring. The Disney marathon is over Christmas. That would be an awesome one, running through all the parks. The humidity and heat are something I would have issues training for. At some point in my life I want to run that one though. The Dead Sea Ultra Marathon is going to be my final run. Start in Amman Jordan and end at the Sea. 31 miles. First half is straight down hill. I hope they include the knee replacement surgery at the finish line. I have decided on the Memorial day race in Madison, my home area.
So upon completion of the marathon getting the 26.2 tattoo. At least thats the plan. We shall see.

constellations

2009-10-25T12:49:00.001-07:00

This weekend was a good weekend. I went to Ranger Challenge to watch Iowa State compete. We watched the rope bridge, which is where there are two telephone poles and a team must get across via a rope as fast as possible. Then we watched weapon assembly/disassembly. It was like Forest Gump. The fastest time I saw was a 48 second. Then the grenade assault course. All pretty cool to watch.
There was a meter shower recently but due to cloudy sky I could not see it. Some of the best pictures though were on http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/
After my foray into astrophotography this summer I am hooked and want to try some more at Drake. One of the coolest things I like about going to a small school is that I may actually be able to do some of our work. With a small school it was possible to approach a professor and get the ball rolling on be able to dim the lights on campus. This will take a few months, so I will definitely keep you all posted.
My floor is going really well. The boss told me I was a good RA the other evening. I enjoyed this immensely. Some of my girls were initiated into a sorority which went well. A few of my girls had tennis matches and did quite well. My guys are doing well on their volleyball team.

All the pretty people

2009-10-11T12:20:00.001-07:00

This week was homecoming at Drake. Eric Hutchenson gave a concert. I wasn’t there, but it was supposedly sweet. The day before Maya Angelou gave a speech to the packed Knapp center. Every semester Drake brings in someone of Angelou’s caliber and varies the field. Her, along with Thomas Pickering (for the Government folks) Ken Burns (Film maker) and a bunch others have graced Drakes grounds by their presence. Last weekend was a dueling pianos thing which my mother and brother were here for. It was a great time. My floor is doing an Office watching party this Thursday.
Once again Drake IR department has really earned it’s stars. There will be a trip for IR majors to Egypt this summer for 6 drake credits for two weeks. I might go, as it would be an amazing time.

All the leaves are brown...

2009-10-01T11:34:00.001-07:00

I am an RA now. This leads to some very interesting stories, most of which cannot be shared due to the personal nature of those involved. The moment one comes up I will definitely let you all know.
My apologies for not writing for awhile. I have been very busy. The summer was excellent, though with less of an international theme. Spent time up on the Apostle Islands. Check out what I did with my father mark, and our friend John. http://www.friendsoftheapostleislands.org/
I have been here at Drake for 8 weeks. Classes are going well. The floor that I oversee of 38 first year students is fantastic. Life is going well.
The temperature is starting to fall, which makes morning workouts rather chilly. My Arabic teacher is from Egypt. She has never seen snow and though that 40 was cold. The winter might be pretty cold on account of the colder summer. The only time it got really warm I was on the island in Lake superior, where I was cold most of the time. I think this may be karmas response to two summers of average 100+ in Jordan.
Tour season starts soon here at Drake, so I will be sure to post responses to the questions I am getting. Rumor has it that Hubbell North is going to start soon, which means nice renovation done in time for next year! Score just in time for me to study abroad. Oh well at least there will be some improvement. I am really excited to see what it becomes, as the planning meetings for it were pretty interesting.

Harder Faster Stronger

2009-04-30T19:18:00.000-07:00

I was promoted in ROTC today. I am now an MS-2. I wear the same rank as an E-4 (corporal/specialist) I have two bars now instead of one. Tomorrow is my last PT test. My legs still are not great so run time will not be much to note. However the magic number for me is 42. I need 42 pushups to pass. Other than that I should be golden. Wish me luck. BULLDOGS LEAD THE WAY!

One toke over the line sweet jesus

2009-04-30T19:14:00.000-07:00

So someone asks about Alive on campus and it being a cult. I wondered the same and did some investigating for my RA class. This is what I am here to report. Obviously Drake can conduct an internal affair should they see fit, and this in no way represents an official university policy. Hope you enjoy:

Alive, and the governing body of Campus Fellowship is one of the largest organizations on campus. Alive is hosted on Thursday nights. However Campus Fellowship has something almost every night. Bible-studies based on residence halls, life/support groups, meals, and social events also become part of the lives of “Alivers.” (It should be noted that Alivers is the Drake colloquial term for those that attend Campus Fellowship/Alive events regularly. This term is not meant in any demeaning way. Those interviewed were generally very accepting of this term, and thus it will be used in the following pages. Alive, as well as many aspects of Campus Fellowship (CF) will be covered, as one cannot accurately talk about Alive, without discussing CF.)
I walked into Cool Beans on the Thursday evening before spring break. Attending Alive is the only time I had ever been up to that part of the building. When I got up there I saw a lot of people. Probably 200 or so, which seemed like an excellent showing for something right before spring break. I had been a few other times at the request of friends so I had a decent read on how things were going to work. They started off with a few songs. This was my favorite part, as I used to play in a worship band. I only knew one of the songs, but they put the words up on a projector so people could sing along. Halfway through a few people put their hands in their air like I see on those worship compilation CDs. I am not used to worship like that, so it was new, but nice to see people passionate about something. Then a brief social meet-n-greet time was given. It was at a previous one of these times that I was informed “Catholics don’t have the truth.” That was in response to my prodding about why members of the group were going to Italy (turns out they went to Spain instead) to “Share the word of Jesus” (colloquially referred to as converting.) That line of thinking I am very uncomfortable with based on Catholicism being around for 2000 years, Peter being the first Pope, etc. However this could have been one member’s personal view. There is not really an Alive doctrine, or bylaws. There is a nice little booklet that describes what the GCC (Great Commission Church) believes, as they are the ones who fund Alive through Walnut Creek Church. However there is no legalistic ruling on what can and cannot be done. This was a major misconception I had, and am glad I have had alleviated. There are definitely some cultural norms that most members self police on each other (see the TD article ) but I did not see any rule book.
The words and actions were interesting. The gentleman speaking was eloquent. He was quoting a new version of the bible, which made me feel uneasy. I have major issues when anyone changes texts, or as it appeared in this case, brought the verbiage up to current standards. I consider this “dumbing down” and am of the persuasion that it should not be done with religious texts, as things can get warped or changed, which could lead to some misfortunes. In terms of cult practices, there was no punch, and nothing was sacrificed. Students were not told to go bomb abortion clinics, nor to send their life savings to a smiling face on TV. I did have an issue because it seemed that when asked members were not sure why they do certain things. Most only hang with each other, as do other large groups on campus (Greeks with Greeks, etc). The issue I had with actions from certain members, was that once it was made apparent I was there for research, and not interested in joining, certain members stopped talking to me. I got the feeling from some members, not all, that they were only interested in talking to me to convert me. I could see this being an issue on the floor next year. Imagine a resident thinks he is making friends, only to find that if he is not 100% sold on the messages Alive sends and stands for, his friends might drop him. There are some members however that I have stayed in very close contact with, as well as many of my colleagues who I have found to be very pleasant and non-judgmental. I was only asked once if I knew where I was going after I died, and that if I didn’t accept Jesus Christ and live my life for him that I was going to hell. (I could see that being a potential problem for the floor as well.)
This experienced taught me to gauge my battles. It is never, ever appropriate for me to tell any of these members that they are wrong. I have no proof either way of who is right, or if anyone is right. I cam to college realizing I pray to the pulpit of I don’t know, and it has been an excellent adventure finding out. This experience has taught me how to ask more open ended questions. I really do not care what they believe, I care why. I want to know the motivation behind what they do. They live a different lifestyle than I would say the majority of students at Drake, which helps make Drake entertaining, intellectual and diverse. I care to know what motivates them. (upon finding out, this paper would get very long.)
There is no immediate danger for attending this group. However should my residents ask I could provide some reasons to not attend. A heightened emotional state tends to happen in certain aspects. I have seen people break down into tears at alive, and other CF events. I know I cannot protect them from everything, and it is not my job to shelter them by any means. However, putting them under emotional pressure will only compound the normal pressures they are put under in college already. If it is a regular occurrence I would not be accepting of that behavior intentionally elicited from my residents. Alive/ CF provides almost parallel programming. There is always something legal and free to do under the group’s direction. This is an excellent thing, as not all of my programs will suffice for all of my residents. However if the events that Alivers go to are dictated to them, then we have an issue. I have never seen an email that says “Thou will meet here at this time or though goes to hell,” so therefore I am not terribly worried about it. However it is something to be advised about. I could also use their programming ideas to implement in the hall or the floor. Some of my most entertaining experiences at Drake have been because of Alive social programs. Some of their political views are very different from my own. I firmly believe in the first amendment, especially the right to free speech, and the right to freedom of religion. However, both must be taken with a grain of salt. The right to free speech does not mean that if a resident of mine is gay, I will let anyone abuse them in anyway, regardless of what grounds. The reverse holds true. In fact this morning a student in my class was ripping into another student on their views of intelligent design/creationism. Civil discussions are fine. Verbal abuse is not. Whatever the opinion is, I may not agree with it, but I will fight like hell to make sure no one takes it from you. I do not have any instances of knowledge, nor do I expect any. It is undisputed that this group does not support homosexual marriage, which could get very interesting in the next few years in Iowa. My biggest fear though is summed up quite nicely in the TD article (Linked Earlier) “Some people believe those who attend ALIVE live a sheltered life. It doesn't necessarily center on a "no drugs, sex, or alcohol" policy, but rather those in ALIVE might miss out on diversity and ways of thinking beyond just what one is told.”
There are definitely some excellent aspects of this group. They provide one amazing support system to members. I also feel as if I could approach many of them should I have an issue. I see a very strong and unwavering sense of loyalty to each other in the group. I personally wonder if this loyalty would remain should someone decide the group was not for them. The discussions, when kept civil by both sides, really expand your mind. College is about bettering yourself. Learning to express opinions creatively and thinking from a different perspective is what half of this experience is about. That is the reason students leave their friends, families and homes: top live the life of the mind. Alive and CF certainly allow one way to challenge that.
Dr. Bakari has confirmed this is not a cult(see attached email). That is good enough proof for me. It has been a very interesting journey researching this paper, any questions or discussions feel free to contact me at i.weller@mac.com

runaway

2009-04-30T18:43:00.001-07:00

A viewer complimented me on my Half Marathon run. Then they asked what I use in my playlist. The trick to this is to keep the music upbeat, but also have some run songs. This way you keep light as you are running for 2 hours, this needs to be fun and not terribly serious so here they are in order:
1. Startin out with Blink 182s Untitled-It has a good beat, and it’s a nice “here we go” song
2. We Ready by Archie. We are ready to rock this thing. A little more serious song to keep the focus at the beginning. Good rap, and decent hook
3. Out here Gridnin-Dj Khalid. Pump it up, talks about being out on the streets. “I can go for 8 weeks” great lyrics, because it is going to feel like you are running that long
4. Jesus walks-Kanye West. Good Marine Corps cadence in the background. Also nice to know you have god on your side. Definitely need something to motivate you on the run.
5. Yeah-Usher. Another feel good song after some serious stuff. This is where you start to loosen up and dance a little bit. Shake it out some.
6. Don’t leave me-Blink. Upbeat punk song, good song to kick to. This is also about where the race splits, and the half marathoners head on out by themselves. Nice to stay motivated when you start to see people heading for the end, of the 8k.
7. Shooting Stars-cauterize. Great song off the Eurotrip Soundtrack. Nice punk way to keep motivation. Awesome guitar riffs.
8. In the Middle-Jimmy Eat World. Nice motivating uplifting and punk songs. Just hearing this always bring out a smile in me
9. MnMs-Blink. Brought back good memories of jumping off tables while we plays at school. More solid punk
10. What’s my age again-Blink. One of the greatest punk songs. Also brings out some energy in me. I believe it was this part of the race I started air guitaring.
11. Sandstorm-Darude. Greatest techno ever.
12. My president is black-Jayz remix. Very uplifting song. We were headin up hill when this came on. I am pretty sure I might have charged up the hill because of hearing this and being inspired by the lyrics
13. Beer-Real big fish. Fun drinking song=fun running song. Another potential jump around and dance on the road. Very chill, keeps things in perspective but good beat
14. 99 red balloons- goldfinger. Punk up an already tight song. When the German breakdown comes it is time to lift up your head
15. Drink up me hearties (pirates of the Caribbean 3) -Very motivating, and who doesn’t want to be a Pirate in Des Moines
16. Not your boyfriend-3oh3. Intense, Motivating, and sweet techno licks. Always nice to hear about representing your city
17. Pirates theme techno-Why not?
18. Livin on a prayer-Bon Jovi. My running partner and I sang the lick: Halfway there: Whoaa living on a prayer! At the halfway point, keep rockin
19. Get a clue-simon and milo-Solid punk
20. I’m on a boat-The lonely Island. Finally SNL has gotten funny again. Awesomely wacky song. There have been so many I’m on a boat parties here its insane. Good memories and the techno version is great pace.
21. If everyone cared-Nickleback. Solid groove and intense. God way to keep up the focus
22. Phantom of the opera punk version-Why not?
23. Took a boy and made a man-army cadence. Nice to get my steps down and reminds me off all the Army Pt
24. Harder faster stronger-almost as good as sandstorm, good motivation towards the back end of the run
25. Airborne Ranger where have you been?-Army Cadence. See 23
26. Pink Rock 101Bowling for soup. More uplifting punk
27. The anthem-Good Charlotte. Good punk to remind me of high school
28. Relax Take it Easy-Mika. Memories of Jordan, and hey you are almost there, so relax, take it easy
29. Rock Star- Pink. So what Im still a rock star. ‘nuff said
30. Viva La Vida-Coldplay. Jacks me up every time I hear it. Great beat to set pace to. Very uplifting.
31. Numb Encore-Jay Z/Linkin Park. More uplifting, lyrics talk about being the best. Needing severe motivation at this point
32. Remember the Name-Ft Minor. Drake Athletics song. Great rap to push yourself to. Closing in on the end
33. Let it rock-Kevin Rudolph. Nice pace, solid pop.
34. Shipping up to Boston-Flogging Molly. Irish punk at the end? You bet. Very motivating. If you like the Pirates music, check out Flogging Molly. Great for the last kick at the end
35. Gonna fly now-Rocky-duh
36. Final countdown. This should be it. Thank you for running with us. You are now free to move about the cabin.

Standing in the shadows of love

2009-04-30T18:42:00.001-07:00

I started to play bass in 5th grade. I had really wanted to play sax, but that didn’t start until a year later. I was heartbroken when I couldn’t make a noise out of a sax but ended up playing trumpet because I wanted to be in band.
One day in 7th grade, my father took me to see the documentary Standing in the Shadows of Motown. This was the film about the studio musicians for Motown. Collectively they called themselves The Funk Brothers. The movie talks about their lives and playing under all those big names. Together, they have played on more number one hits than the Beatles, the Beach Boys, the Rolling Stones, and Elvis…combined. Throughout the film they get together to play with current RnB singers taking the place of the Motown artists. This was an amazing film. I am quite positive my jaw was dropped the entire film. I really took to the bass player, James Jamerson. He is without a doubt the best bass player to ever have lived.
After I walked out of the theatre I asked to buy a bass guitar. I wanted to be Jamerson. We also ended up grabbing my dads old PA system from when he was a kid. This led to many family jams down in the basement.
Later on that year I got to see the Funk Brothers live at Summerfest. Here were 10 guys in probably there 70s and 80s still jamming away. They were probably the best concert I have ever seen. This was the epitome of RnB, of Pop, of soul, of a generation.
Here is a clip of my favorite song. I hope you get a chance to see the full movie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gA0GcXV2njY

Alvin Simon Theodore

2009-04-30T18:11:00.000-07:00

You all know how much I know how much I absolutely adore music. My roommate can attest to how many random and odd songs I have. While perusing youtube I came across an interesting phenomena. Type in Chipmunks on youtube. Click on anyone of the Alvin and the Chipmunk remixes. Wait for hilarity to ensue. “I kissed a girl and liked it”, sung by the dynamic high pitched trio. One of my favorites is by far is “Sk8tor Boi.” Pretty much every pop song has been redone. (Okay so when these are remade the pitch is just bent hardcore or just sped up) Regardless of how it is done, it is still pretty fun, as well as a decent way to blow off some steam.

Saturday in the park

2009-04-30T18:10:00.001-07:00

So the weather has been very nice recently. This has led to me completely and totally neglecting my studies as well as skipping class to play the ukulele under the tree on campus. Just kidding. It has meant that we spend a lot more time outside. My tan lines have become very awkward because of this. My favorite new spot is Gray’s Lake. This is in Des Moines, right next to the river. It is just south of Downtown. If Drake and the Downtown area were to form a triangle this would be the point. It is a fairly close walk, I would say 2 miles or so. We have only driven, because once we get there we walk. Free to walk and talk as long as you want until midnight. Once the sun goes down, there is a very long bridge that gets lit up by funky lights. It sort of reminds me of a disco club. There is a nice park and a few grilles so hopefully this weekend we can make use of that.
Check out the site
http://www.ci.des-moines.ia.us/departments/pr/grayslake.htm

Carry on my wayward son

2009-04-29T10:32:00.000-07:00

This is a precious time in your life, when you have the chance to soak up knowledge, challenge preconceptions, play with ideas and develop a philosophy of life that will carry you through the short time that we are given here on earth. Four years to live the life of the mind. A privilege given to so few. Enjoy it. Don't let it slip by without making the most of each passing minute.

Prof David Skidmore
Drake University IR chair

This hangs on my door, as well as above my room mates bed. I will give it to my residents next year. Where ever one finds themselves at school, remember this passage.

Runnin down a dream

2009-04-28T11:44:00.001-07:00

13.1 miles. Through suburbs. With 1000 of my closest friends.
Drake Relays 100th anniversary was a time to remember. In the first part of the year a cute girl asked me to run with her. I said of course, (as that is the only appropriate answer when a cute girl asks anything.) We ran 13.1 miles in low 50s on Saturday morning, the Half Marathon Road Race for Drake Relays. It was awesome. I was glad to just actually finish. The winner 1:08:17 which is a 5:13 mile pace. My running partner and I finished both under 2 hours. My time was a 1.59.30.
Iowa has an an amazing running scene. In two weeks is Dam to Dam, which is a 20k race from the dam at Saylorville lake, to the dam in downtown Des Moines. There is also the living history farms race, which is a through the woods, cross country, running through creeks race in the fall. Hopefully I can do that. I will be goading my brother to run the ten mile Waunafest run with me. My new life’s goal is to run the Dead Sea Ultra-Marathon. 50 K, start in Amman, and run to the Dead sea. Half of it is downhill, which will probably require knee replacement surgery. First I will finish college and all that jazz, but at some point, that little stroll is going to be mine!

return to sender

2009-03-31T19:26:00.000-07:00

I really hope to go back to Jordan this summer. I applied and I should find out these next few days if I am headed back or not. I trust the readership will go up at that point. I am trying to keep an international flavor to this blog. If you have any ideas on what you would like to see let me know. Hopfully some of this is funny, and informative. I have a few more weeks left of school, to include Drake Relays. I assure you I will get some fantastic stories out of that weekend, along with my Half Marathon I am running that weekend.

Kissed by a sunset

2009-03-31T19:22:00.000-07:00

Probably the best picture I have taken in my life. Wadi Rum Desert at sunset in Jordan.

back in the USSR

2009-03-31T18:48:00.001-07:00

Ian is studying…
Ian is procrastinating…
Ian is working…
Ian has decided the art of conversation is completely going to die due to the influences of technology.
Ian has updated his every move to twitter because quite frankly everyone needs to know:
Facebook status update, Twitters whole reason for existence. I never need people to know what I am up to at the rates that are possible now with Twitter and Facebook. It rather scares me to think what my own children will grow up in. My own teachers are now jumping on the facebook craze, which is amusing yet scary at the same time. (Teachers have lives? I thought they just turn them off after class, or plug them back into the socket.) Regrettably one is hard pressed to function in college without a facebook. It is an excellent source social events, as well a way to keep up with friends. It is also the only place I know of where pictures are stored. If you want a nice trip down memory lane start at the first pictures people tagged of you and work your way through. I was cute once, and the proof is on facebook.
It is getting weird though that someone needs to update people to their exact whereabouts with twitter and facebook. Even weirder is the fact that someone thought a lot of people want to do it, and thus sell advertising. Imagine how that sales pitch went.

Dead right round the poker face which was kissed through a phone for giving you hell

2009-03-31T18:26:00.000-07:00

All of my posts, at least the ones back Stateside are titled after songs. I absolutely love music. So here is my take on the current top 5 songs, courtesy of Billboard.com
#1 Flo Rida-Right Round-Ah yes the knock off of Dead or Alive’s You spin me Right Round. Great beat, always played at the club. At the Rez Hall ball this was the song played during the dance off. I felt really bad the other day having to explain the meanings of the lyrics to a rather conservative friend of mine. All in all a totally hip, completely forgettable song
#2 Lady Gaga-Poker Face. Gags signature sound, again, after her Just Dance, which also went through the roof. I imagine this will get over played on top-40 radio. Another club song which will get remixed a million times. I thoroughly enjoyed OAR’s Crazy Little Game of Poker, but Gaga ode to Hold ‘em is going to make me fold.
#3 Soulja Boy-Kiss me through the phone. Far too many nights spent bouncing left and right to this song at the club. The original Soulja boy dance still fills the dance floor, and after that it has been downhill. I mean really? Kissing someone through the phone? You just made out with AT&T! Another really forgettable song.
#4 TI and Justin Timberlake-Dead and Gone. It is nice when an artist gets out of the club scene of middle school pop to serious songs. Nice job TI and JT. A nice song with an essence of Collio’s Gangsta’s paradise. I am also diggin the hook. Probably one of the better rap songs this year.
#5 All American Rejects: Give you Hell. The epitome of Pop Punk. Great hook, and the music video rips on suburbia. Imagine if the preps of your school moved next to the punks, then decided to have a sing off. This song has been stuck in my head all day, and I am pleased that it made the cut. AAR: ROCK ON!