Saudi and UAE FAQs – Part 1

I've reproduced your questions exactly as you've asked them to me in your emails.

 

First, a few glossary terms that may be used.

 

MENA: Middle East North Africa

GCC: Gulf Cooperative Council - Saudi, UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Oman, Kuwait

Riyadh: Capital of Saudi Arabia

UAE: United Arab Emirates

Dubai and Abu Dhabi: The two largest emirates in the UAE. Seven emirates comprise the UAE

Sheik Mohammed: Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum - Prime Minister and Vice President of the UAE and the Ruler of Dubai. A.k.a. Sheik Mo

Sheik Khalifa: Khalifa bin Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan - President of the UAE and emir of Abu Dhabi

Abaya: Black garb for females covering entire length of body

Thobe: White garb for males

Iftar: breaking of the fast during Ramadan

 
 

What was your biggest culture shock?

I lived in Venice Beach, California. You would be hard pressed to find many more inhabited destinations where regard for "proper" social behavior is so effortlessly abandoned. It's not a hipster's tiresome and self-conscious counter-culture, but rather just a simple mantra of Be What You Want to Be. The asymmetry and lack of uniformity is magnificent. And even though I generally don't walk around in Venice dressed in drag, juggling knifes while walking a Chihuahua, no shame would come to my name in this community (it would most certainly enhance it, in fact), and it certainly would not endanger my life.

 
 

In Riyadh things are different, and of course having done my research prior, I knew this going in. There will be a male only and female/family section in all restaurants. Women are forbidden to drive. Don't wear shorts in public. Don't use your left hand to give things to people. Never have the soles of your shoes pointing towards someone. Forget about dating local girls…or even meeting local girls. Between a guidebook and speaking with others who have been there, I had the facts. Still, it didn't prepare me for when a young Filipina woman in an abaya approached me on my first day while walking around in the mall and asks in giggly English, "Are you Korean?" My lord! Is she…flirting with me? Do I answer her question? Do I ignore her? Do I flee the scene of the crime?? I was momentarily paralyzed, not knowing whether social convention allowed me answer her. Locals dressed in abayas and thobes were looking at us in humorous curiosity, which I of course took to mean "Will someone please arrest these infidels already?!" Nothing more than embarrassment came of this episode, but it's an extreme example of how highly conscious I was of my actions, gestures, and general psyche in public. This was tiring, and it weighed on me. It took about two months to get used to the rhythm of daily life. Still, this equilibrium was supplemented by weekend excursions out of the country.

 
 

The other major difference is the utter lack of self-sufficiency one develops while living in a fully serviced apartment while having a driver on call. Laundry, household cleaning, room service, locomotion: all provided within dialing reach. Yes, it sounds fabulous, I know. But I haven't know such simple joy and satisfaction as when I recently put on a t-shirt still fresh from my apartment's half-broken coin operated dryer and drove my stick shift Subaru to the Trader Joes to buy some fresh produce, frozen potstickers and a bottle of single malt.

 
 

What is the attitude towards Americans there?

I'll take "there" to encompass a broader definition than merely Saudi and the UAE since I traveled all over. I never felt overt animosity towards Americans during my time in MENA. Granted, Obama was a big sensation at the time, and when I wore my novelty Barack to the Future lapel pin in airports, the buzz of the walk through metal detector was generally ignored, the half-effort pat down replaced with a smile and a heavily accented, "Obama! Ok!". Indeed, Kiwis and Aussies were far more vocally belligerent in their anti-Americanism than any Arab I encountered. I wasn't a fan of the previous administration's foreign policies either, but please, feel free to berate me me when a) you have something compelling to say b) you know what you're talking about and c) John Key's opinion counts for something on the world stage. Who is John Key you ask? Exactly.

 
 

What was the cuisine like?  best meal, worst..

The staple is mezze (tabouli, hommos, pita, etc). Meat. Rice. Sweets. Repeat. Food considered "local" is dominated by Lebanese cuisine. It's rare to have an authentic Saudi meal, and I couldn't even tell you what Emirati food consists of. East Asian food, with the exception of Thai, is mediocre. Good Mexican is isolated to a couple of individual higher end places in Dubai. And due to the vast numbers of South Asians (primarily Pakistani and Indian) in the GCC, their fare rivals the vendors of Karachi and Chennai. If you're a fan of TGIFridays, Applebees, Fuddruckers, and the like, you won't be disappointed in either Riyadh or Dubai.

 
 

Best meal: Iftar at my friend Maarouf's house in Saudi. The abundance of Lebanese and Saudi food there was orgasmic. Combine that with having an actual dinner party with Saudi women dressed in "normal" clothing while in Riyadh made for a memorable evening.

 
 

Worst meal: Many (many) Subway lunches in my cubicle at the client in Saudi.

 
 

Who was your best friend?

I didn't have a BFF, as they say. My good friends there included an Italian guy, a Connecticut dude, a Lebanese mate, a Saudi bloke, a Pakistani-American chic… Between these various friends we partied in embassies, saw the Great Pyramids, perused vast camel markets, drank like fish in a completely dry country, hit on girls, pulled all nighters - for both work and play, got on each others' nerves (unavoidable when you live with your co-workers), and some other things I'll need to tell you in person.

 
 

Women, hair or no hair?

Um, what?

 
 

How many little Panpans might be springing up in the "Orient" in the coming 9 months to 1 year and 9 months?

Couldn't it be feasible I already have some toddlers running around given that I arrived there in July '08 (i.e. 13 months) ago?

 
 

If you could take one traditional celebration back to the US, what would it be?

Regular fasting and also breaking of the fast with friends and family, called iftar. Typically you will eat a single date and have some water or Arabic coffee prior to eating your meal. It's a wonderful affair. I wouldn't want to do a whole month, but a few times a year would be good for the spirit.

 
 

Did you feel you had to censor yourself online? (I was a little worried when I saw some of the things you put up. I thought you might get in trouble.)

Both Saudi and the UAE restrict access to sites containing San Fernando Valley's biggest export - porn, for you non-Angelenos), but they also restrict other sites that I don't quite understand. For example, Flickr is blocked in the UAE. No, I've never had a censorship issue. Well, except one: A good (girl) friend took unnecessary pity on me when I told her that the internet was censored in many GCC countries. She insisted on sending me a USB drive loaded with her some of her favorite, ahem, risqué titles. We're pretty sure customs snagged it as I never received it.

 
 

Why were you away for so long?

It's pretty simple: The travel was addictive, the work was interesting, and I was enjoying myself. When the work became tiresome, and the travel became exhausting, I started reassessing, which ultimately led me to the conclusion that I missed home. A lot.

 
 

What did you miss the most about home?

Mom napping on the couch while I watch TV in her living room, hiking and running outdoors, riding around Venice on my hot pink bicycle, not ever thinking about what the weather will be outside, car bombs at O'Brien's Pub, In N Out burger, KCRW (I did have it on iTunes radio but it's not the same…), March Madness, American accents, non-consultant friends.

 

 

From The Kingdom to Dubai

***The following was an email sent to friends and family yesterday****

Ganesh, the waiter on the rooftop bar at the Four Points Sheraton on Sheik Zayed Road tells me that construction on the 70 storey skyscraper directly in front of us has stopped for over two months now. Peering down the side of the building, I see that the reflective golden window panels that look like they belong on the wings of the Hubble telescope have only been laid about a third of the way up. Scaffolding brackets the building, and I swear I spy hand-held construction tools laying in the open air on the dark grey concrete. As I sip on a cold beer and look down Sheik Zayed, the main road that stitches together all of this emerite, the familiar caucophony of construction sounds of a city experiencing hyper-growth is now replaced by a only defeaning silence of freeway traffic whooshing by 500 feet below.

 

News articles for the past couple of months have been talking of the downward spiral that is Dubai's economy. "The Dubai airport parking lot is filled with cars that foreign nationals leave behind because they cannot repay their debt." "Half of all expatriates considering relocation." "Worst case scenario, Dubai turns into a ghost town." While I don't think the worst case scenario will actually occur, there is no doubt that the city once viewed as a model of development will have to undergo a painful and perhaps long period of stagnation and decline. What does all this mean on a personal level? Not a lot.  The taxis still run, the bars are still open and the expat scene is still generally vibrant. I even went to the John Legend concert on Thursday night here. (I know!)

 

Still, it's with this odd sense of timing  and cold economic backdrop that I've temporarily relocated to Dubai for my next project. After seven months living and working in The Kingdom, I was given the opportunity to take a healthcare project in Abu Dhabi. And so I'll be spending the next three months living and working in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. While I knew about the Abu Dhabi opportunity for some time, the final confirmation did not come until last Tuesday evening. I boarded the plane for Dubai on Wednesday.

 

It will be futile to actually try and summarize all of the experiences I've had since the last time I wrote to you all, so I will only provide just a few tid bits. Sprinklings, if you will. 

 

1. Wearing a thobe in the streets of San'a will get you (more) stares if you're a 6'3" Chinese person

2. Land crossings into Israel from Jordan are much less sketchy than they sounds.

3. I will go to Boracay , The Philippines with anyone, anytime

4. Riyadh floods when it rains

5. Lots of nurses attend the US embassy parties in Riyadh

6. One can be fishing in the Mediterranean in the morning and skiing in the afternoon in Beirut

7. New Years is best experienced with friends old and new, open bar and a brisk night in Kowloon overlooking the fireworks in Victoria Harbor, Hong Kong

8. The West Wing is the best show ever

9. Being in DC with 3 million Americans walking the streets= the most amazing January 20th I'll probably ever have in my life

10. Oceans and continents can't stand in the way of a friend's bachelor party in Miami

 

As always, I look forward to hearing from you should you find a quick moment. I miss you all and send along many good vibrations.

- Panpan

 

 Click here for photos 

So seven Brits and a Chinese guy walk into a bar...

Traveling "alone" is a relative statement. One always seems to find mates to travel with on the road. My purchase of a 20 cent "black book" for contact information was perhaps the wisest pre-trip investment thus far. Well, that and the Cipro. The list of countries I now have a bed to sleep in now includes Canada, England, Australia, France, Holland, Viet Nam and Sweden, not to mention the few Americans I've also met (they tend to be few and far between). Most of these travel relationships last only a day or even just a few hours. That is why my time spent in the last three days with 7 Brits and have been a marked and much appreciated change of pace.

The group of seven is tightly knit. Andy and Hollie, whom I met in Hanoi two weeks ago, tell me that they're all from the same "village" about 30 miles north of London and that they've all known each other from the time they were small lads (how quaint!).

Andrew Dicker, or just Dicker, is a barrel chested young man. He stands 6'1" and probably weighs 230. If he grew up in the States he would've for sure been a dominant lineman playing high school football. We shared a motorbike on the way to the sand dunes of Mui Ne, and he is the first to give me a little background on this tightly knit group of friends. "You ever heard of that TV show Jackass? Or CKY (the original Jackass)? Andy, Chalk, Lewie, Dan and I did the same sort of stunts and filmed it all. You can check'em out on www.vimeo.com", Dicker shouts over the noise of the wind as we go 35mph on the two lane streets. He then proceeds to tell me about his work. "I work for the waste management department in the city of London. Basically, I drive a van with poo in it for a living. Shit job, but great pay!", Dicker proudly states. "I'm also a bouncer at a bar." His body had countless scars from the shit he's done, the lastest being on this trip where he flipped his motorbike and landed headfirst in a ditch with the motorbike landing on his head. The unbreakable man that he is, he came out of that with large scratches on his leg. By all accounts he should've been seriously injured, but his mates said that it's pretty typical that he would come out of it with only some scratches. The 11 cars he's totalled (going through the windshield twice) is testament to his nine+ lives. It is obvious that Dicker is a gentle giant, and I like him immediately. http://www.vimeo.com/clip:49316
I highly recommend checking out this clip and others at www.vimeo.com. search andrew dicker, andy ash, dan simpson.

Chalk, who introduces himself by his real name James, can only be described as special. The quotation marks kind of special. His enthusiasm and unabashedly oblivious do/say first, think second mentality gets him into trouble, but it is also impossibly endearing. One of the first things I hear from Chalk's mouth was, "If I learn Vietnamese, would I have an English accent like they have a Vietnamese accent when speaking English?" Chalk is in the British Army Reserves and volunteered to go to Afghanistan. He likes shooting guns. God save the Queen...

Andy, whom I met in Hanoi is an aspiring photographer who still shuns the use of digital. Surprisingly, Andy, not Chalk, is the target of the groups benign bullying. Andy's mom, apparently, has slept with all the boys in the group, and even one the girls. One time when Andy went away on vacation, he came home to a large lamp post in the middle of his front lawn as well as the house being on sale for the past two weeks.

Heidi, one of two girls in the group, emphatically breaks the stereotype that English girls are not cute. She has dark brown wavy hair and a figure that just doesn't quit. I guess that time in dance school does a body good. Heidi's also a screamer, shrieking all the way down the sand dunes on her board. Heidi's been traveling Asia with Louie, her boyfriend of the past year. When the game of "what animal would you be" came up, Louie's animal was a walking stick. I thought more of a praying mantis.

Dan is something of a local celebrity back in their small village. "Everyone knows Dan," Andy tells me over happy hour Saigon Beer at Crazy Kim's bar in Nha Trang. "It's usually, 'Hey! Dan from the wineshop'!". At 28 Dan is the old man in the group. He's into all sorts of music and tells me that I should check out the South by Southwest music festival in Austin. He likes white russians, and is fantastic company after six or seven of them.

Hollie is the total package. A laid back, gorgeous, natural brunette, Hollie can party with the boys, but also has maternal instincts that naturally manifest themselves when the need arises. She took care of Dicker after the accident. And when Chalk got wasted beyond repair our night in Nha Trang, it was Hollie who carried him on her back home to the hotel about a kilometer away. Dicker offered, but Hollie had it under control. She says it was easy because Chalk could "rest his legs on my big hips." I laugh at the comment, because they are actually very nice hips. "What? It's true!" she protests. In a group of "characters", Hollie's relative reservedness betrays her many dimensions. That she is studying Drama and English at university suits her quite well.

This is the group that I've been with for the past few days. We sandboarded, swam in the South China Sea, haggled with our hotel owner over the price of a destroyed motorbike (good work Louie at getting it to only $280!), and partied like rockstars at Crazy Kim's and the Sailing Club in Nha Trang. Until we meet in England...cheers!

Saigon Part 1

Spontaneity comes in different forms. One manifestation is to tell someone you will be in Saigon in two weeks and then have that person immediately purchase a ticket to Saigon for a weekend excursion. Diana Lee (www.asparagese.blogspot.com) joined me for my first three days in Saigon from Singapore. Although we we both had hacking coughs, we managed to get in a day in the Mekong as well as checking out Reunification Palace. On the Mekong we paddled in little riverboats that were totally reminiscent of scenes in old movies about the war where some VCs are hiding in the rivers sucking air through a reed and then ambush your boat. Our straw hats added to the ambiance. For 6 bucks we got transportation (bus and boat), visited four islands, tested local coconut candy (divine!), had lunch, sampled local fruits, and saw a brief musical performance. Even by Vietnamese standards Diana and I thought this was quite the deal. Because we were both feeling so crappy, we party in Saigon as one should. You know the kind of sick where you are just totally don't want to speak with anyone, everyone annoys you and you want to just sleep? That's how I felt on Saturday night and Sunday morning. Sunday evening, however, was a different story.

Sapa

The northwest of Viet Nam is covered by lush hills and mountains and is home to many hill tribes. The town which most tourists use as the "gateway" to the many villages of the Northwest is Sapa. After a few days in Hanoi and the comedically unorganized tour of Halong Bay, Sapa was the perfect place to relax for a few days. The weather was much cooler and the incesant noise of motorbike traffic is reduced to a bearable buzz. Terraced rice fields like those on the cover of my Environmental Science textbook span all directions.

Sapa, Vietnam
The "villagers" in Sapa are a curious bunch, especially the children. The H'mong girls by far have the biggest presence in the town, and the little ones all speak two or three languages. "Where you from?...You from America!", is the general greeting one gets when walking down the street. They are pretty aggressive, often slapping you on the shoulder if they don't get a response they like. The gentleman that I am, I often return the slap. Dressed in their traditional clothes dyed with natural indigo (which stains their arms and hands), these H'mong girls can often be seen in a bar playing pool or in a cybercafe playing CounterStrike when not selling their friendship bracelets or other miscelleanous traditional crap. I consider myself a decent pool player, and these girls would definitely hold their own in any New York City bar. I went 1-1 with an 15 yr old. The exclamation point to this odd juxtaposition of cultures had to be the moment when one girl was doing her embroidery while her friend was sinking the 8 ball.

Many people do two or three day treks to various villages around Sapa, but I was content with the two I visisted in one day, using the rest of my time to motorbike around the area (what a thrill!). Usually one has to pay an entrance ticket at the trailhead of these villages, but because I was with the Dzao women who invited me to their village, we sped past the post. Thankfully, the rail was up so we didn't get closelined.

Red Dzao Women

ITINERARY

Although rather bland, this intinerary is an easy way to keep track of what I'm up to. Unfortunately, I am not uploading pictures while traveling so you get to enjoy links to great photos of some of the places I'm visiting.

July 3- Hanoi

• Arrive very late in Hanoi (every shop is closed and there are only a few street lights)
• Find a hostel by bumping into three drunk travelers stumbling home and following them to their place

July 4- Hanoi http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.hanoi.html

• Meet up with Linh
• Dodge motorbikes and explore the city
• Evening at the waterpuppet show

July 5- Hanoi

• Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, Residence, and Ho Chi Minh Museum
• Lunch with Linh's family
• Museum of Ethnology

July 6-8 Halong Bay http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.halong.html

• Various caves and grottoes, Cat Ba Island, hiking in the national park (an extremely difficult hike)
• Sea kayaking and swimming in the bays

July 9-12 Sapa http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.sapa.html

• Chillin out and enjoying the view from my hotel room
• Trekking to various villages
• Talking to local girls dressed in traditional garb who speak English really well and play nasty games of pool
• Watching Zidane get medieval on Materazzi

July 13 Hanoi

• Staying at Linh's house before heading to Saigon
• Having Linh's mama cook us a phat meal of crab stuffed spring rolls..mmm.

July 14-16 Saigon

• Meeting Diana (Georgetown friend who decided on a whim to come from Singapore to meet me in Saigon!)
• Day tour of the Mekong Delta for a ridiculously low (even by Vietnam standards) 6 dollars, including lunch!

July 17 Mui Ne http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Asia/Vietnam/Northeast_South/Binh_Thuan/mui_ne/

• Sandboarding
• Beaching it

July 18,19 Nha Trang http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.nha-trang.html

• Going out
• Snorkeling? Diving?

July 20-22 Hoi An http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.hoi-an.html

• Getting a new wardrobe (lots of tailors in Hoi An)

July 23-24 Hue (Ancient capital, Viet Nam's first UNESCO World Heritage site)

• http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.hue.html

July 25 DMZ and the Vin Moch tunnels

July 26 Hanoi

July 27 Beijing

August 4 Los Angeles

My Vietnamese Sister

Linh Phan is a 17 yr old rising senior here in Hanoi. She stands about 5' 4" and has dark black hair that down well past her butt. Her face is round and reminds me of that of southern Chinese girl. That is, she is very pretty. She has a distinctive style already (she wore a beret the first day we hung out), and so when she walks down the street with me she gets beckoned by the street vendors and motorscooter taxis with everything from "Bonjour!" to "Hello!" to "Korea?". Everything except "Sin Chow":Hello in Vietnamese. We made quite the pair: a young Chinese manwho is always mistaken for Japanese and Korean, and a Vietnamese girl who is mistaken for everything but Vietnamese.

Linh traveled outside of the country for the first time last year to Singapore and wants very to study in university there. When I asked her why not the U.S., she says because she doesn't want to be so far away from her mom and dad. She's not quite sure what she wants to study, but when I told her I majored in International Relations she became quite excited.

Linh and I met through couchsurfing.com. She told me to call her when I arrived in her city, which I was more than happy to do this since I don't know a soul in this country. After dodging the 2 million* mopeds and moterbikes infesting the city while running some errands my first morning in Hanoi, I called Linh.

I know that my voice was overflowing with enthusiasm on the phone which I tried to taper a little. Fortunately I heard that excitement reciprocated on the other end. "I am so happy you called me today!", Linh said in her polished English. We decided to meet at Huc Bridge, which connects the Old Quarter of Hanoi to a small island in the middle of Hoan Kiem Lake. I told Linh to expect me to be dressed in a light blue longsleeve shirt carrying my red bag. Oh, and also that I'm a 6' 3"with long hair. Despite each of us knowing what the other looked like through our respective couchsurfing profiles, I felt obliged to not change my clothes even though I was dripping with sweat by 12:30pm from wearing that long sleeved dress shirt.

The first thing we did was eat. When in Viet Nam, what else but pho (noodles in soup)? I wasn't full after my first bowl, but Linh firmly, yet politely said that we should go somewhere else to try something different. If I wasn't sure before, I was sure then that I really liked this girl! Shaved iced with tapioca, fruit and condensed milk: a staple of the Asian dessert menu. Helping me bargain for some small things, sitting by the lake and enjoying some drinks and having great conversation about Vietnamese culture and youth rounded out our first day together.

We spent the second day visiting Uncle Ho's mausoleum and the Museum of Ethnology. Like China, Viet Nam has over 50 ethnic minorities. Since I am planning on going to Sapa (in the Northwest) to trek in the villages of the Hmong, Dzao and various other minorities, this museum was a great precursor to my trip. The models of the hill tribes' houses were impressive. One towered over 40 ft! Imagine the shape of a hatchet with its blade pointing up and you have the shape of this house. The museum also had a moving exhibit of the time of the Subsidized Economy in Viet Nam. This was a time of extreme hardship where food, cloth and soap (among various other things) were rationed at portions no middle class person today could imagine doing with. I was impressed by the openness and candor of the exhibit.

The Old Quarter of Hanoi is teeming with backpackers. Everywhere you go you hear an Australian accent. Brits run amok, and I've even met a few Israelis. Everyone has a Lonely Planet upon arrival, and if they don't pirated versions are sold here for $2-$5 (any country you want), which means that virtually every traveler is using the same information. While you can accomplish almost anything you would normally want with a Lonely Planet at your disposal, the assistance and friendship of a local has been just wonderful. Cam on (thank you), Linh.

* actual statistic