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Kansai region, Japan

2008-04-08T21:11:00.012+04:00

March 2008
In the case of Japan, my pictures say far more than my words so, in keeping with all things Japanese, I will keep this simple:

Kyoto and surrounding area
Beautiful, historical, clean and efficient, Kyoto strikes an impeccable balance of the old and the new. Temples are to Kyoto like Starbucks is to Seattle... You can find one on just about every corner. Each temple was a masterpiece of design and joinery (although some stood out in particular for their craft and design, as shown in my photos) and many were surrounded by gardens that far out-did the temples themselves. Other pleasures involved eating (sushi, soba, sashimi, raw eggs and squid on a stick), shopping for Japanese tea cups, riding a bike around town and meeting some great new friends.

Koyasan, Wakayama Preficture
Site of one of Japan's holiest of mountains and the center of Buddhist training in Japan, Koyasan is a remote area in the South of Kansai penninsula. A small town full of shrines, temples, tall cedars, crisp mountain air, monks and the ever present, overlapping sounds of ritual music, just being in Koyasan inspires meditative reflection and inner peace. Lodging is limited to staying in traditional (active) temple-inns, which is an experience in itself. This included joining morning prayer, sleeping on tatami mats, bathing in a traditional wooden public bath, and being served trays of Japanese cuisine (so beautiful it was difficult to eat) by friendly, laughing monks.

...And a little work
Before heading back to the deserts of the UAE, I attended an interesting international conference on socially and environmentally-responsible design and design education (Cumulus Kyoto 2008). The conference combined lectures, panel discussions and the signing of the "Kyoto Design Declaration", a statement of commitment by the members of Cumulus to sharing the global responsibility for building sustainable, human-centered, creative societies. Coincidentally, this declaration was signed in the same hall in which the Kyoto Treaty was signed... Despite my concerted effort to locate the treaty and sign it on the behalf of all enlightened Americans, the treaty remains untouched by American penmanship.

I have posted a ton of photos on my flickr account:
www.flickr.com/photos/rustythumb/
Please look for the collection on the right of my flickr homepage titled "Kansai, Japan 08".

-Tonya

Tanzania X-Mas 07

2008-02-03T01:55:00.000+04:00

Tonya’s Adventures in Africa

While my original plans regarding visiting Kenya changed due to the onslaught of election-induced rioting, the month I spent in Tanzania was everything I had hoped it would be: Colorful, lush, beautiful, fertile, charming, mystical and full of hospitality and smiling faces. The following is a streamlined version of my adventures:

Mt. Kilimanjaro
I read somewhere that 1 in 5 people don’t make it to the summit of Kili (19, 340 ft, 5895 m.), and for some reason I thought I was going to fall in line with the lucky ones, the 4 out 5. This, however, was not to be. I made it damn close though, all the way to Barafu Base Camp (15, 200 ft, 4800 m.), which is high enough to clearly see the receding glaciers of the “Roof of Afica”. My body and the altitude were having an argument and the altitude won. (I will leave the details to your imagination, but just know that there was one stretch where two guides each had an arm and were more or less dragging me down the mountain at the end of a nausea-filled 9-hour hike at which point I thought I just might die. …And then there was also the gasping for breathe at base camp which kept me on my toes.) Alas, I have no regrets: It’s all about the journey and not the destination, and the journey was incredible. Memorable moments include hiking past colobus monkeys and Dr. Suess-esque trees (lobelias), being passed by scrawny, young porters carrying entire camp-ready dining rooms on their heads, eating amazing meals and entirely too many bananas, Jamaica’s magic juice, waking up at midnight on x-mas eve to pee under a freezing full moon with the whole mountain lit up and a million stars overhead, drinking morning tea in a frost-covered moonscape, climbing up rocks like a “dicky-dicky” (mountain goat), being above the clouds with Moshi blinking through, hot Nalgene bottles on my toes, wind storms, watching a line of head lamps work towards the summit, and great conversations with my climbing companions and guide. The folks I joined up with were Russian-American, all related, and were great people. They pretty much adopted me into their family, which was tremendous of them. I even learned a bit of Russian, in addition to a fair amount of Swahili.

Safari
I did a short two-and-a-half day safari to Tangere and Nogorogoro Crater parks where I saw multi-generational herds of elephants walking tail to trunk, giraffes running in what looks like slow motion, ostriches so huge that –from a distance- they are easily mistaken for elephants, baboons running around with babies attached to their bellies and backs, muscley-skitterish-wig-wearing warthogs, termite mounds as big as houses, zebras, zebras, and more zebras, impalas, bison, waterbucks, wildebeests, cows, dik-diks, mongoose, vulures, hippos, a male and female lion, and two black rinos. My companion for the safari was a Chinese-American who worked in computers, and who was the Chinese version of my mother’s husband in every detail.

Moshi
Moshi is a fairly big city in Tanzania, bustling with market life and mini-busses (called Dolla-Dollas) which get filled until over-flowing with people hanging out of the windows and climbing on top of each other. It’s a colorful place where women wear bold patterned dresses and carry huge loads on their scarf-wrapped heads. While there are plenty of street hagglers to wear a tourist down, it was always easy to make a friend or chat with a stranger or just hang out and watch the comings and goings as if watching a movie. I made friends with some local craftspeople and so had the fortune of having a personal tour guide of sorts. They escorted me and two volunteers I met to a part of Moshi that is at the base of Kilimanjaro where we hiked out to a beautiful waterfall and sampled the local banana beer (Imagine the taste of fermented bananas… It’s awful and not recommended). One of my most memorable (and frightening) experiences occurred between Moshi an Arusha, a large city about an hour from Moshi: I was on a big bus, sitting in the backseat, when the bus broke down in the middle of the road and caught on fire. Everyone, including myself, started to jump out of the windows onto the road. The funny thing is that no one seemed phased, as if this sort of thing happened all the time… I met a German missionary on the side of the road who had also jumped out of the bus who was trying to make his way up to the riot zone of Nairobi. He made some comment to me about how taking busses in Africa is risky business, but I’m not sure if going into a riot zone is any less reckless. I hope he made it there, and back out, safely.

TunaHaki
I spent some of my time volunteering with TunaHaki (which means “We have a right” in Swahili), a center for children who have lost one or more parent to AIDS. The kids were amazing and full of smiles, and were eager to take on the craft projects that we (the volunteers) organized for them. I lost all inhibitions and sang silly songs and danced to Twist an Shout… I think they were into it, and, if not, then I had fun anyway. My most memorable times at TunaHaki involve the kid teaching ME skills, including the fastest way to peal garlic cloves and cook over a smoky fire, and how to hand wash clothes systematically and efficiently with a bar of soap and a bucket of dirty water. I lugged along two big bags of new shoes, soccer balls, and art materials, but the kids were most receptive to the candy I brought. Initially I was confused when they all were holding out their hands and exclaimed, “pee-pee”, but then I learned that this is the Swahili word for “sweet”. (Translation caught me off guard in a number of occasions; for instance the word for brother is Caca.) TunaHaki is in the process of having a new, sustainable building built to house the kids and I commend the director, David Ryatula, for dedicating his time and energy towards this end. By the way, if you use the search engine “Goodsearch” (instead of Google, for instance) money will automatically be donated to the organization of your choice, and TunaHaki is on their list.

Tribes
Tanzania is a country with somewhere around 120 tribes and various religions including Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and primitive faiths (including witchcraft), and yet it is peaceful. Of the tribes in Tanzania the one that is most pronounced is the Masai. You have seen pictures of the Masai in National Geographic and, if you are like me, you probably thought that the way of life of the Masai was a thing of the past. Well, I am here to tell you that it’s not. The Masai, a hunting and herding tribe who live simple lives in huts of cow dung and sticks on the outskirts of town and who often have many, many wives, coexist with townspeople who are trying desperately to be a part of the modern, industrialized world. I saw Masai riding bikes, talk on cell phones, and go through airport security. I also saw them herding cows and goats and perform a ceremonial mating dance. To be clear, I JOINED them in their dance, and I thought I might be married by the end of the it but, I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

Architecture
While the Masai huts were fascinating to me (they were the most sustainable structures I have ever seen in my life), the architecture I saw around Moshi also intrigued me. Much like patchwork quilts, houses are often put together with whatever materials are available, and the result I beautiful. I know they thought I was crazy (kitcha) for being so excited about their houses, but I was just so enamored by their ingenuity and craft. The bricks pictured are handmade from soil.

Sustainability
Speaking of ingenuity and sustainability and resourcefulness, there were lots of people in Moshi who made things out of car tires such as gaskets, bicycle brakes, and belts. They even made these cool sandals; I bought a pair for $5. The Masai wear these too. Pretty cool, huh?

Zanzibar
The last six days of my trip were spent in Zanzibar, a primarily Muslim island off the coast of Tanzania. I spent a whole day exploring Stone Town with my camera, taking photos of narrow streets, the light, fish, dhows, and everyday life. Three weeks into my solo travels and I was feeling very worn out. I found myself a quiet little hut on a beach on the East side of the island where I happily drank fresh pina-coladas, searched for sea shells, swam in the ocean, read two books, and finally had the chance to reflect on my first experiences in Africa.

I took a LOT of great photos and they can all be viewed at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rustythumb/

PLEASE, PLEASE CHECK THEM OUT! The collection is on the right of my main page and is labeled "Tanzania X-Mas 07". I welcome your comments... and gifts and emails in general.

UAE and Oman, straight up, on the rocks.

2007-12-01T11:56:00.000+04:00

Yes, I am still here… Just too busy to sit at my computer and push the buttons to formulate words. Alas, it is the National Day Holiday this weekend in the UAE (the equivalent to Independence Day, minus the fireworks but with the addition of gun-waving, flag-bearing, dish-dashi-wearing, car-honking Emiratis parading around town) and I finally have an extra minute to reconnect.

What’s been going on in the world of Tonya, you ask? Well, let’s see… In November I took a trip to the Musandam Peninsula of Oman where the terrain is refreshingly three-dimensional, the food is cheap, and the people are amazingly friendly. A group of colleagues and myself took a chartered dhow out around the peninsula where we wove our way through rocky islands, were chased by dolphins, and snorkeled with purple and yellow-striped fish. Only a two and half-hour drive from Sharjah, I definitely plan to visit the area and the people of Oman again I the future.

Sharjah. Unlike Dubai, Sharjah is a backwards, ugly and unglamorous city full of old buildings, chaos and perpetual traffic jams. Despite this, I have been trying to explore the emirate I call home and take advantage of some of the textures it has to offer. The dhows are a point of intrigue for me –particularly because they represent one of the few traditional crafts of this region that has survived the onslaught of globalization—and I find that when I go out to shoot pictures that I am naturally drawn to their forms and to the bustle of the shipping industry that surrounds them.

To the North of Sharjah is the emirate of Ras Al Khaimah where the terrain is similar to that of Oman: Rocky mountains pushed up against the blue ocean. For an “out-doorsy” person such as myself who is living in a flat, inaccessible, super-car-culture-driven place, RAK is a real godsend. I bought a Jeep and the official “UAE Off-Road Guidebook” and went off in search of a hike called Stairway to Heaven. Well, I’m not sure if we were ever on the trail described in the book, but my colleague and I did find lots of rocks, mountain goats, and a German and Austrian duo also trying to follow the cryptic directions described in the guidebook. It was a strenuous hike, traversing through a wadi (dry riverbed) of boulders and scrambling across loose, dry (sharp as the dickens) rock, but the views made it all worthwhile. Plus it gave me one of the few opportunities I will have to properly break in my new hiking boots before my upcoming trek up Kilimanjaro. (Be sure to check back at the end of January for excerpts for what I imagine will be an adventure-filled trip: Kenya and Tanzania from 21 Dec. to 18 Jan.!)

To see all of my cool, new photos please check go to:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rustythumb/

Once again, I recommend viewing the sets on the right to avoid photo overload. I would love to hear your comments, so please feel free to drop me a line!

Until later,
-T

Salt, sand, camels, and wooden boats

2007-10-19T21:57:00.000+04:00

Hi all,

So, I bought a new camera and spent much of the past week driving around blowing off stress and exploring... I went all the way up to Ras Al Khaimah (the North-most emirate bordering Oman), to Umm Al Quwain (a smaller emirate in between Sharjah and R.A.K.), and to the South-East, to the vast desert along the "empty corridor" in Abu Dhabi. I watched the sun both rise and set over sand dunes, I talked to camels, I explored the desert salt-flats... Many, many photos were taken -- far too many to squeeze onto this page-- so I started a flickr account. Check out about a hundred new images at the following address:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rustythumb/

(I highly recommend looking at the sets on the right of the page so as to avoid brain melt from image overload.)

I am still accepting emails, so drop me a line and let me know what you think... and tell me what's going on over there on the other side of this tiny sandy planet. Enjoy.

-T

Palm trees and polyester

2007-10-08T00:38:00.000+04:00

I live where I work: A sprawling campus oasis full of marble and palm trees complete with a full-fledged labor force (Indian and Pakistani) who tend to every little detail. There is A LOT I could say about the whole labor issue, but I am saving that story for a rainy day; a day which hopefully (inshallah: Allah willing) will come soon.

Here are some recent pictures taken from campus:

My introduction to the real lives of UAE Nationals and the people of this region is largely shaped by my daily interactions with my students: Young men and women aged 16-22. (Yes, there are 16 year-olds in college.) They come from a mix of countries including the UAE, Iran, Iraq, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, and many others that currently slip my mind. They are a good bunch of kids and way more respectful than the students I am accustomed to from Detroit …although perhaps that is not saying much. You may be surprised to learn that the students here in the UAE are an awful lot like the students back in the U.S. They date, they sneak cigarettes during class breaks, their cell phones have ring tones that mimic bad popular music, they drive fancy sports cars, and they are very fashion-savvy.

Of interest to me lately is the fashion of the nationals, especially the contemporary take on the abaya; the black robe worn by women of the Gulf region. But first I need to point out something that might not seem so obvious: Women who wear the abaya and sheyla (head scarf) do not necessarily do so because they are ultra-conservative Muslims, but because it is their national dress and they were raised this way. (That being said, the women from Saudi Arabia wear these garments because, according to their culture, it’s the law, which –while similar—is another story altogether.) Much to the displeasure of many of their parents, the up and coming generation is pushing the envelope in terms of their interpretation of their national dress and how they go about wearing the abaya. For instance, you will see female students being dropped off to school by their fathers (or, yes, their drivers) arriving fully covered in black polyester fabric from head to toe. By the time these students reach the classroom, however, their sheyla will be pushed back on their heads exposing their forehead and their abaya might be flowing open to reveal jeans and a tight t-shirt, complete with the sparkly high-heeled shoes. It’s an awkward situation to take photos of the students, so you just need to trust me on this one.

While traditionally the abaya has been solid black and un-shapely, over the past five years or so designers have been popping up and are making a new business out of selling high-end custom and ultra high-fashion (read: expensive and sometimes form-flattering) abayas throughout the region. Go to any of the big malls in Dubai and you will see a number of these stores, complete with models in their front windows showing off the latest trends.

Often these abayas will be adorned with rhinestones, fringe, and beads, sometimes with the addition of striking patterns, hints of color, and some catchy-yet-subversive details. So far the decoration has primarily been contained to the edge of the head scarf and cuffs, but I have found a few examples that dare to take patterns down the back and even the front. I have even seen a few styles that are “snuggish” in the bosom area. Very risky.

Secretly I have the dream of putting together a fashion show of alternative abayas… Abayas made out of rip-stop and coolmax. Abayas that have grafitti motifs screen-printed across them… I think I had better test the waters before I go too far out on a limb and get myself deported.

This, by the way, is Omran, the salesman who sold me my new abaya this past weekend...

The Eid holiday (celebrating the end of Ramadan) is next week and I plan on driving ALL OVER the UAE taking pictures. Maybe I'll even sport my new digs. Stay tuned.

-T

A late start, but a beginning at last

2007-09-21T16:18:00.000+04:00

In the historic part of Sharjah, August 2007.

There is a lot to be said for first impressions...

Now that I have been here for a little over a month, I find that I am already immune to so many of the experiences that I originally found so bizarre and fascinating. I have acclimated to a certain degree: For instance, somehow I have gotten used to the combination of 110 degree weather and with wearing long sleeve shirts and pants... I hardly notice the call to prayer anymore, or the once-striking vocalizations of the Arabic and Urdu dialects; they have become the constant soundtrack to my daily life. (Although, I must admit, as I type this it's noon on Friday and I can hear the Imam give what sounds to be a pretty angry sermon, blaring loudly from speakers on the campus mosque.) I hate to say it, but I am even getting used to seeing the laborers work all day in the hot sun, although –honestly-- it still makes me want to scream injustice. (More on the labor camps later in the future.)

Luckily there is still plenty of opportunity for surprises... Yesterday I opened my office door to find three male students praying on the floor. The funny thing was that they had appropriated one of our drawing still-life props -–a 20” tall white pyramid—as the object towards which they were praying. (In the Muslim faith it is haram (blasphemous) to pray to a human and so a non-representational object is used to avoid mistaken worship; Hence the Kabba in Mecca.)

Because I am here for work and not play, I have not yet found time to explore much of the UAE. What I have seen is an abundance of stupidly large, highly Westernized, glittery malls complete with stores you might find anywhere in the U.S., in addition to a range of European and Asian stores as well as the occasional (well, one) indoor ski slope.

Dunkin Donuts Arab-style and an advertisement for KFC's Iftaar meal. Iftaar, by the way, is the meal that takes place after breaking the fast at sundown during the holy month of Ramadan, which is currently taking place.

While Sharjah is the old-school, conservative little sister Emirate, Dubai is unquestionably the big brother: a swanky metropolis deemed to be the global center of the Middle East. But if you are imagining something that looks like New York or London, then you are completely off track. Apparently, just thirty short years ago, Dubai was just a desert city pimpled with Bedouin settlements, camels, and a shipping port. Today it is still a desert city with a shipping port where the traditional boats (dhows) are still built and used. It is also the land of bumper-to-bumper, car-filled, seven-lane highways lined with buildings that house companies from all over the world. The buildings are a mixture of new and shiny and decrepit, and they say everything you really need to know in order to understand this culture: 1. The façade is everything, and 2. No, there is no infrastructure. More on that another time… To say that a lot of construction is going on would be a major understatement… There are cranes everywhere and buildings appearing daily. The self-proclaimed tallest building in the world –-the Burj Dubai—is currently underway; I guess it passed the height of the former tallest building of the world just the other day… Imagine a black pencil-like structure sticking straight out of the earth with cranes propped on the top moving very much upward, growing, at a steady pace, and that should give you a fairly accurate picture.

My most recent analogy for describing the life-style of Dubai goes like this: It’s like my experience of being on a cruise ship… The sand is like the ocean and the city is like the ship and the people in it are trapped inside and just going from one gluttonous experience to another.

But there is hope for my outlook on Dubai: The other night a few friends and I went to an area of Dubai full of authentic outdoor souqs and a mixture of Pakistani, Indian, and Nepalese shops and cafes. It was amazing. The souqs have store after store selling exotic, quality textiles and there are endless numbers of tailors who are able to produce any type of clothing imaginable. In fact, you can bring these tailors either an existing item of clothing or even a drawing and they will magically reproduce the item within a weeks time. In this part of the world, tailors are all men and they are very well respected, and they are talented and charge way too little for the work they do. I have every intention of taking advantage of this service while I am here.

With the help of an Arabic-speaking friend I did a little shoe bartering, as well as buying a few scarves (sheylas). Compared to the U.S., prices here are silly cheap. I bought a pair of these Pakistani shoes for 50 dirhams, or about $18. and a beautiful silk scarf for about $10.

I wish I had gotten a picture of this, but at around 1AM we stopped at an unmarked hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Ajman (the Emirate NE of Sharjah), which was at the back of some car dealership, where you park in a crowded sand parking lot and they bring THE BEST FALAFEL IN THE WORLD out to you in your car. Apparently, if you slip the waiter an extra 10 dirhams on the sly, he will bring you outlawed treats made of beetle leaves and beetle nuts (which apparently has nothing to do with beetles, but is in fact a tree) and chewing tobacco. I didn’t get to try any, but I hear they give you quite a kick. If I ever find that place again I might just have to give it a try.

More adventures and explorations on the way... Feel free to check back in a few weeks and I just might have had the time to post something new. No promises though. Drop me a line and tell me what you think and what you are up to; I would love to hear from you.