On Time & Communication

It's amazing how the weeks seem to fly by at a moment's notice, but at the same, they seem to drag on like a slug. The nature of my project makes it so that I'm quite independent, which is both a good and bad thing. Good in that I can sleep in whenever I want and report to the Ministry whenever I want (or whenever their schedule allows). Bad that I can sleep in whenever I want and procrastinate on contacting the OWAs within an hour of here. I don't think I've ever been this "not busy" since ... I don't know when. If anything, this Fulbright experience has taught me to loosen up a bit, let go of my Type-A tendencies (they have now devolved into what I'd like to call a Type B-plus, bordering A-minus), and live as the Omanis do (except for that whole crazy driving thing ... don't think I can do that. Also, my rental car may die if I attempt such road craziness). I suppose that whenever I return to the US, I will once again hit the ground running with things to do, deadlines to meet, schedules to keep ... rather than taking my time here, where my trusty day planner has been collecting dust since September. It's nice to know that I've spent many times just walking on the beach ... it's where I do my best thinking. And surprisingly for a popular beach, Shatti Al-Qurum can be quite peaceful, empty and quiet. You just need to know not to come an hour before sunset or else local football teams will clobber you. Perhaps it'll be in the only time in a long time that I won't feel external pressure to "do" something ...

One of my biggest frustrations thus far, and also my proudest accomplishments thus far is my ability to communicate with the locals in Arabic. It's so easy to slip into English here in Muscat, and I admit that I've been one to falter. Everyone understands it; it's now the lingua franca of the globalised world. I speak it at grocery stores and coffee shops ... even with my Omani friend, who insists on practicing her English (which is so much better than my Arabic). I know that one day, I'll have to force myself to reverse that tendency. I speak to my landlord and neighbors in fluent Arabish (Arabic + English). While frequenting the Heritage Village of the Muscat Festival, I relished in the fact that I, unlike the tourists who looked like me, snapping their cameras away without a word to the locals, would engage artisans and performers about their craft and where they came from. It makes for nice stories when you're showing others the photos you've taken. And I know that in my future OWA visits, my ability to speak and understand (along with the aid of a modern technological device known as the voice recorder) in the local language (dialect, even) is vital for my survival. That ability is a source of connection, a deeper communication, a sense of understanding ... that yes, I may be Filipino-American, I may be foreign, but I am making every effort this year to create a part of me that is distinctly Omani.