Letter from a Belgian Airport

                 After a very rigorous 2 day orientation in DC, we are finally on the way to Morocco via Brussels. In Brussels, we have a 10 hour layover, and everyone is suffering from some serious jet lag. Belgium is 7 hours ahead of Iowa, while Morocco is 6 hours ahead. So we've actually gone over one more time zone than where we’ll end up. Basically, everyone is tired. 

Visit to the Moroccan Embassy

                

                 These orientations that we just got back from lasted 2 days in DC, with continuous session after session. They covered everyday life, health and safety, personal takeaways, and cultural aspects like Islam. It was a lot of information in a very short period of time. The part I found the most engaging was when a member of the State Department and American Councils came and talked about future opportunities in study abroad and careers abroad (www.exchanges.state.gov and www.careers.state.gov if you’re interested).

                

                At the end of the day, we walked around DC for a bit. A small group of went to see the White House and generally just meander around DC.

                 

               At the end of the next day, we were off to the DC airport to head to Brussels. Airports get worse each time, I swear. This time we had 22 kids to get approved and check their baggage, which took a very, very long time.

              

              After all of that happened, we went through a long security line, got on a tram, went over to our gate and did more waiting.

              At this point, I should explain that some kids didn’t technically had seats on the plane. Instead of having a number, they had three asterisks. This was not me, I had seat 31 B. Anyway, as kids with asterisks were called to come pick up their tickets for the plane, I discovered a girl from our program had been given my seat.  So I wondered, once again, if I was going to have an issue getting on my plane. I didn't doubt it, based on my very enjoyable experiences in airports so far. They then called my name to approach the desk and sort this all out.

             

               Two other boys who had asterisks also didn't have seats because they had overbooked the plane. We waited at the front for a half hour while the staff worked on booking a couple a separate flight that ran through Madrid. There were multiple issues and it took quite a while. Once they finished, our chaperone patiently and graciously explained that we all needed to be on the fight as we were a group. She then also explained that they had given my seat away to another student so they needed to place me somewhere. A few moments later, a man at the end of the counter called my name and gave me a different ticket to get on the plane. So, thank heavens, I would at least make it to Belgium.

             

               It turns out the only seat they had for me was in the joint first class/business class section. Which was pretty neat. They’re a lot nicer to you up there. There’s more food and they screw with the temperature of your silverware. Your chair converts into a bed of sorts. I think it was God apologizing for putting me through the O’Hare flight fiasco. The guy next to me was not as cool as Konrad, though. Also, I spent a good portion of the flight sleeping, but not before I could watch “Miracle” to see the Americans win the Olympics in hockey. Such a classic.

              

          Now we’re in the midst of a 10 hour layover in the Brussels Airport. We can’t really leave the airport because we don’t have visas, but we did walk outside a bit. I also got some Belgian chocolates, and intend on eating them all by myself. 

       

  By the way, I love the Belgian bathroom signs.

              Anyways, we’re headed to Morocco tonight. First Casablanca, then Rabat.

              I just have to stay awake until then.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane

A journey of a thousand miles begins with at least 3 flight cancellations. Are you really taking a trip via plane if you aren’t delayed at least once? I don’t think so. More on that later.

               

                I had my last supper with my mother and sister at Noodles & Company. Elea informed me that as a good sibling, she would be commandeering my room as soon as I left. She’s actually switching our rooms. At least I don’t have to clean anything.  

                I said goodbye to my mother at 10:00 that morning at the Des Moines International Airport. I was wondering what about this airport qualifies it as “International.” No matter.

               

I got this TSA pre-screened line thing, which sounds all fancy, but all it really means is there is no line and you get to keep your shoes on. They searched my carry-on and found my 10.4 oz bottle of sunscreen. I kicked myself for forgetting to check that in my other bag. Went downstairs, called my mom about what to do, threw the sunscreen away, and went back into the line. After I made it through again, I made for the lounge.

                

                A friend’s dad told me once that “It’s either a good experience or a good story.” What fun is life if you don’t rack up a couple of good stories? There were a lot of good ones today. The first one I had was a bit like a dare: how long can my flight be delayed? It was a fun game that the illusive “dispatch” and I played. Chicago had been undergoing a couple of thunderstorms and so all flights had been grounded until 12:30. This meant the earliest I could get was one hour after I was supposed to be taking off for DC. So I got comfortable in this airport lounge and waited for what seemed like forever.

                

                Then, finally, the plane arrived and we were off. 50 minutes later, I find myself in O’Hare. Or rather, I find myself lost in O’Hare.

               

                The staff had everyone’s carry-on checked because of the size of the plane. I, of course, had no idea where to pick this up so I wandered around for 20 minutes. After finding my carry-on, I discovered my flight had been cancelled, so I went to get a new flight. I stood in the customer service line for a half hour and got my new ticket that departed at 7 for DC.  I found out that I now had 5 hours to burn in this airport rather than 45 minutes.

                

                My mother told me that I needed to find the USO, a lounge for military personnel and their dependents. I asked a staff member, who said all I had to do was make it to terminal 2. Since I was at terminal 1, I didn’t think it would be that difficult. Nope. That journey was the most confusing thing I’d encountered all day. I’ve never been so lost. But then this lovely worker walked me through the airport to find the USO, and an hour after I started walking, I found it.

               

I often under appreciate being a military kid. Sometimes it really sucks. Other times I am so incredibly grateful for it. This was one of those times. After frantically running around this massive airport, I was so thankful for an area where they took your carry-on, offered you a variety of free food, free wifi, and let you watch the World Cup in recliners. I was so relieved. Thank God for the military. As my mother always said “Lose your husband before you lose your military ID." 

     

                So I camped out at USO for 2 hours with some Navy recruits on their way to Basic Training and their commanders. While I was there, one man commented to me, "You are too young to be a Lieutenant Commander, and too happy to be a recruit. Who are you?" And I explained how I was lucky enough to hold the prestigious status of "Dependent."

After charging my phone and eating dinner, I headed back into the crazy world of the airport in a once-again desperate attempt to find my new flight that was to begin boarding at 6:25. It went much better this time. I got to the right terminal and everything.

And then it started raining.

Again. I’m sitting in the lounge one hour before my flight is supposed to leave and the lightning starts coming in and I’m wondering if I’m actually ever going to make it to DC.

Then I meet up with Colette, another student on the program who is also trying to get a flight. We put ourselves on the standby list for the last flight out for DC. If we don’t make this flight, we’re going to have to stay in a hotel for the night. We’re sitting in the airport lounge watching our names slowly get pushed down the list as other people pay to get seats. It’s nerve-wracking and one of the most stressful things I’ve ever done. It is now 9:30, and this plane that was supposed to start boarding at 8:25 finally opens the doors. Standby seats are slowly given away. Based on the ratio of available seats to people ahead of us on the standby list, we didn't think we were going to get on the plane. I already had called my dad and told him I was probably going to be in a hotel for the night. But then, somehow, Colette got a ticket. And then I, finally, got a ticket.

At last, I get on the plane. I sat next to this guy named Konrad, who was fluent in Polish, a former male gymnast, a somewhat health nut, right out of school chiropractor who offered me his bag of plantains. It was probably the most enjoyable flight I'll ever have. I had actually planned on reading my book or studying, but ended up having a two hour conversation with a guy who was on his way to a chiropractic convention. It made having the middle seat on a 2 hour flight at 10:30 not entirely awful.

So finally, I arrived at DC at 12:30 in the morning, found my luggage, waiting in a very long taxi line, and got the hotel by 1. 

Like I said before, it's either a good experience or a good story. 

And this is just the first day.

So I'm Going to Morocco....

I got an email today that threw me for a loop. I'm not going to Oman. There was a visa complication in going to Oman- a special waver was introduced for those of us born in 1996 or before. They're uncertain that they can get us this waver, and we were 11 days away from departing. So instead, they're sending us to Rabat, Morocco.

On the one hand, I'm thrilled that they adapted the program to make us fit and are working to get us into host families. I'm excited I still get to learn Arabic and learn about this foreign culture.

On the other hand, I wasn't ready to give up Oman.

I've spend about the past 3 months learning about the country and meeting all these lovely people, many of whom I'm not going to meet now. I have to exchange those absolutely gorgeous rials and meet a new group of people and change my flights.I have two weeks to prep to be in this country I had no idea I was going to be in and know little about. 

Most importantly, I'm going to have to change the name of this blog.

But I'm starting to see the bright side. Oman had incredibly high temperatures (like 106) while Morocco right now is sitting around a 70. I think their policy on modesty is a little bit looser. Their flag is easier to draw.

I'm going to  hate giving up Oman, but I think I will like Morocco. I've heard nothing but good things, it's just wrapping my head around everything.

I'm going to Morocco. A Summer in Morocco. I'll get there. 

Discovering Rials

I recently graduated from high school, and got a very interesting gift from my grandmother as a graduation present. My grandmother has traveled all over the place, so of course she would have the foresight to give Omani rials as a gift. Along with this insanely useful present, we also had a discussion about going abroad. She instructed me to get a secure bank account, to carry my passport around at all times, and make copies of every major document as well. All of this was incredibly helpful, but I can't help but make the focus of this post the rials. They're absolutely gorgeous.

I'm going to feel bad about spending any rials. Each is like an intricate tapestry. Every rial, no matter the denomination, has a picture of the Sultan on the back combined with some building of significance to Oman. The other side really varies in what it depicts. This side of the five rial is showing the city of Nizwa in Oman. 

Of course, the exchange rate is going to be the death of me. Every rial is worth about 2.9 USD, meaning 5 rials is actually about 13 dollars. Thanks America, for letting me look forward to days filled with mental math.

These rials reminded me that this trip is approaching quickly. Of course, I am scrambling to find clothes and keep up on my Arabic learning, but I've lamented about that already. I'm incredibly excited to embark on this adventure and spend far too much money because I forget the massive discrepancy in exchange rates. Two and a half weeks to go.

The Alphabet is Harder than I Thought

In preparation for the trip, we've been asked to learn the Arabic alphabet in 2 14-letter chunks. This seems entirely manageable, except for the fact that each letter has 4 total forms. There's an initial form, a medial form, a final form, and an isolated form. Sometimes the letter stays the same between two of its forms, sometimes it does not. Drawing each letter seems to be like an individual art project. But I'm working on it.

We got our first assignment recently to check and see how we were progressing on the first 14 letters. Now, I've made flashcards, made a huge poster for my door, and written out the whole chart various times. But while staring at that paper I realized that this may be more difficult than I thought. It wasn't "what makes the 'b' sound?" but more like "transliterate this English word in Arabic." I had no idea how to connect the letters or what to do about the vowels (we use them when writing, but Arabic generally doesn't). I suppose learning the alphabet will be a little harder than I thought. I definitely have more effort to put into this before I leave.

In regards to putting in a lot of effort into something, it is very difficult to find clothes that are both very modest and something I want to wear in 100+ degree heat. I was looking at my weather app and Muscat has a high of 106 this week. Wearing jeans in 106 degree weather probably isn't the brightest idea, so I've been around look for clothes that would work. I will just say that shopping is far from my forte and I think just wearing a bed sheet every day would be simpler. This is going to be an interesting summer to say the least.

So these are the issues I'm currently struggling through. I'm sure I will have much more interesting ones to share as we get closer. I'm sure my concerns about the alphabet, the weather, and my clothes will soon be replaced with much more interesting topics and stories.

All that to follow, after I learn this darn alphabet.

The Handbook

EDIT: Now that the location has changed to Morocco, parts of this handbook are no longer applicable. However, many parts do apply to both regions so I've decided to leave it up, if only to educate future Oman students. I'm also leaving it up because it took forever to write. So you are more than welcome to skip this, but if you have a fascination with Oman, feel free to keep reading.

As part of the preparations for this summer, AMIDEAST sent out a 44-page handbook detailing information about Oman and the summer we would be having. I found this information interesting and relevant to this experience, so I thought I'd include some of it here. The following post in its entirety will probably only be interesting to me and future NSLI-Yers, so if you don't fall under these two categories, I understand if you skim or don't read the following post. My feelings will not be hurt. Everyone who is going to read this, get strapped in because I have a feeling this will take a while.

Here we go.

The first section deals with statistics about Oman. I noticed that Oman has a population of around 3.09 million people. This is very close to the population of my home state, Iowa, who has around 3.07 million people. The population is 75% Ibadhi Muslim, and 25% other religions. There is an 81.4% literacy rate, and there is universal adult suffrage, which is always nice.

The next section deals with staying and adapting to a host family. After being a member of a host family to 3 different ladies since the 8th grade, it's fun to see the kind of preparation they give about what your host family would be like. They warn you that you might not have the "private time, personal space, or independence" that you are used to, but just to roll with it. I wonder how many of our host students were like "I don't want to hang out with them right now, but I will because I was told to." It's just so weird to see this other side of the experience.They say there is also a chance that the family you stay with will be of Zanzibari descent. For the sake of the Billy Joel song "Zanzibar," I hope this happens. Although I'm fairly certain he wasn't singing about this region that is now part of Tanzania, but I'm keeping my hopes up.

The handbook then dives into the academics of this whole thing. All of the girls have been notified of our duty to learn the alphabet and some common phrases before we leave. They also mention a "Language Pledge" which I believe means that we are only allowed to speak Arabic for certain periods of time. After reading this, I am so glad that Sr. Van Der Meer would require us to do this all the time in Spanish 3- it lets you know what words you really need to learn. The handbook also talks about the classes, the extension element with an Omani peer, and the pre and post test we'll be taking. The final part of the academics section is the extension beyond the classroom, including the extracurricular activities and community service. I actually couldn't be more excited about this- the extracurriculars include "discussion groups, Arabic cinema & TV, Arabic karaoke, calligraphy, and relaxed 'majli chats' over coffee & dates with Omani students."

The next portion is about methods of contact. We'll be provided a cell phone, international service is expensive if you bring your own, Skype has been blocked (this by the way, is not the greatest news ever but I can handle it. Google chat all the way?), we'll have WiFi although it may be slow, and they gave some addresses where we can be sent stuff, which I might put on here closer to the date or if anyone other than me gets access to this blog who might want to write something.

Climate-wise, it's hot. Very hot. There's also a wind called "the Shamal" that blows from March until August and can cause sandstorms. You don't get a sandstorm every day in Iowa, so I'm hoping to see at least one.

Then the next section is one what to wear. This was very worrying to me in the time between when I had been accepted and when I got this handbook, so to prevent this from happening to future students, I will try to be detailed.

In regards to bottoms, acceptable forms of dress are jeans, khakis, linen pants, longs skirts, and capris when it isn't Ramadan (It's Ramadan most of while we're there, so capris probably won't be much of a thing considering how economic you have to be with suitcase space). Acceptable tops are long sleeves, 3/4 length sleeves, and short sleeves when it isn't Ramadan. This clothing should not be revealing around the bust, stomach, back, shoulders, or legs. Skirts shouldn't come above the knee, shirts can't be sleeveless. They say that sandals are the most common type of shoe worn, but also to bring sneakers for excursions and flip flops to wear around the house. This guide also advises to bring a formal outfit for occasions your family may invite you to, such as weddings. Finally, they advise bringing a hat  to keep the sun off of your head, or wearing a scarf in accordance with the local fashion.

The electricity sockets are of the three-pronged British variety or the two-pronged European variety. So what that means is I'm going to be buying a transformer pretty much as soon as I get there.

Then the packet has a very well-written description of Oman's history that I won't include here because that would require a lot more writing and we've still got quite a bit of handbook to go.

The next section focuses on social relations. Apparently, same-sex relationships are pretty intimate in Oman. The handbook says that this is not indicative of homosexual behavior, just a reinforcement of friendship. So intense eye contact, touching, kissing on the cheek, long handshakes, and holding hands or walking arm in arm are normal for two friends. They state that some international students say it is hard to make friends with Omani students. This could be attributed to "cultural misunderstandings, different perceptions or friendship, or language difficulties." They also warn of those who wish to be friends for financial gain or sexual reasons, but also note that this is not true of the majority. Some Omanis enjoy foreign friends for social class reasons or to learn about the foreign culture that you come from. These friends apparently form quickly and are quite intense. Apparently, in accordance with Omani culture, friendship means different rights and duties, and those you friend won't hesitate to call in favors or converse daily. If a friend goes ignored for a few days, this is taken as an insult. There is a rapid response to requests, and an expectation that it will be reciprocated. So I suppose that means I can't keep forgetting to text people back like I do now. In fact, I just remembered someone I have to call. Not like that's anything new for me.

In regards to mixed gender relationships, the handbook says that these are often distant and seem impersonal. It also states that if a foreign woman initiates a conversation with an Omani male, this may be interpreted as "openness to a sexual advance or romantic interest." It says that foreign women should wait for the Omani male to initiate a handshake. There are other small tips, such as when "Adhan" (Call to prayer) is announced, it is best not to speak loudly, dance or play music. Modest dress is required to enter a mosque. Always ask permission to enter a mosque. The Omani people are very happy to help with directions. Check to see if there was a service charge before you give a tip. US dollars are not accepted in local markets.

I'm going to leave out women's issues for now, as it states that we'll be covering it in great detail at PDO, and I believe I will be more informed after that meeting to be able to elaborate on what is a large issue in this region.

But now on to my favorite subject- food. First, being invited into someone's house means either kahwa- a strong, bitter drink, or halwa- a sweet and sticky substance. Lokhemat is another accompaniment to coffee- it's balls of flour and yeast. Rice is the main ingredient at meals, along with meat. Fish is frequently used, the kingfish in particular. There is rukhal bread, mishakik, and squid. So pumped for squid. Oman pulls from Yemen, East Africa, South Asia, and the Middle East, which builds my excitement for this food. In regards to etiquette though, there is some necessary adherence to customs. I would say an important pattern I see throughout the tips is always trying whatever they give you, and never declining food when offered. So even if you're stuffed, you need to try the food you are offered. Eat with your right hand. If someone gives you a choice piece of meat, it's because they feel like you aren't getting the best. Just thank them for it, whether you wanted it or not. The host of the meal will continually place food in front of you in very large portions and ask you about the food and if you want more. There will be leftovers. Running out of food makes the host look stingy, so don't try to finish anything. Especially because those who prepare the meal eat what is left by the guests. So it's actually incredibly inconsiderate to finish your meal, especially since you don't know how many are waiting in the kitchen for the leftovers. Your host is going to push you to eat- you need to decline multiple times. Observe how much those around you are eating and use that information to guide your own eating habits. Make sure to remove your shoes if others do, and wash before dinner.

We are nearing the end of the handbook. The final portion describes the stages of culture shock: The Honeymoon Stage, the Hostility Stage, the Integration/Acceptance stage, and the Home stage. They finally tell you not come in with any expectations and to remain open-minded. They then say to maintain your sense of humor, and remember that this is going to be a unique experience and you should embrace that.

They then include this packing list, which I am going to have way too much fun stressing over in the coming months. There's also some additional resources about Oman, and then a lengthy "Personal Conduct" section about behavior and penalties and such.

So now, I feel as though I've written down a large gist of what the handbook said. I made this post because this was all I wanted to see when I was reading blogs of former students who did this program, so at least now I know this is out there. I hope you've enjoyed reading this lengthy post, and I hope we speak again soon.

The Background and the Beginning

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, 

Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. 

Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. 

On such a full sea are we now afloat.

And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures."

I love that quote. I thought I'd start the first blog post with it because it describes seizing opportunities, which is kind of the overall lesson of this post. It's also here because I love Julius Caesar, but I suppose that's another story for another time.

Anyway, my name is Kyra and I'm 17 years old. This summer, with the help of the NSLI-Y program, I will be travelling overseas to Oman to learn Arabic and experience the culture. Needless to say, I'm absolutely thrilled.

I feel like it's obligatory to keep a blog about this kind of thing, so here I am. Even though I'm months out from leaving, I wanted to give a bit of background and also talk about events leading up to actually leaving, thus this early start. 

To begin at the beginning: I've always wanted to learn Arabic, but have never really had the resources to do so properly. I mean, my dad was in Iraq in 2003-2004 and Afghanistan in 2008-2009, so I grew with this foreign culture and language in the back of my mind. We have all of these artifacts from the Middle East around my house and in my room, and I've always had to observe from a distance. I've never had the opportunity to take a class on Arabic or Middle Eastern studies, and self-learning this language is difficult. I let my ambition brew beneath the surface and kept my eyes open for ways to learn Arabic. When I heard about NSLI-Y my junior year, I knew I wanted to do it. I knew that the program embodied everything I wanted to do all in one: it offered the opportunity to learn the language, which I could apply to my future career, and also allowed me to study the culture, something I had wanted to do for a long time. I also knew I was under-qualified. I have never studied Arabic, and my attempt of learning another language (Spanish) had been squashed by an semester-long internship my Senior year. So not only did I not speak the language, the only other language I had taken throughout high school, I had dropped. I didn't think my chances looked good. So I quietly applied for this program, and became a semi-finalist. This wasn't comforting at all, because I figured they may make this decision based on some factor that would've gotten me to this round but wouldn't qualify me beyond this. Which is why, when the finalist nominations came, I was surprised. And  grateful. And terrified.

Moving forward, after I received my finalist notification, I had the worst time worrying if all of the documentation got in correctly. They give you 7 days to turn in a scanned photo of your passport, a hard copy of a form, and the emailed copy of that form. I had recently renewed my passport, and had forgotten to sign it, so they emailed me back to tell me to sign it. That whole thing was stressful, including not knowing if they got the hard copy of the form. I was so worried I'd be disqualified because of improper documentation turn-in procedure. But I think it worked out because I then began receiving emails regarding the program from AMIDEAST, the program in direct control of what we'll be doing this summer. By "we'll", I mean the other girls doing this. I think there are 14 of us.

Anyway, I hope to be able to have quality conversations in Arabic by the end of this. I think I read somewhere that they want you to have a presentation, in Arabic, at the end of the program for, I believe I'm correct on this, some members of the consulate. At this point, I've only ever been out of the country once, and it wasn't for long. Giving a speech in front of consulate members is such a foreign concept. I suppose all of this is a foreign concept.

I've received a lot of emails recently detailing a lot of what's going to happen, and I'm excited to talk about that later, but you can only write so many run-on sentences before you just need to give it a break. So I'm just going to cut this off here. This is the end of the first official post, and the beginning to a Summer in Oman.