Usually I leave my taxes to the very last day, in tact with the rest of Canada, but to the dismay of my father. But this year I am being a good girl, and have just finished them now. Besides bearing gifts of winter wear and packages of family photographs for the relative here, he also brought my T- slips and a couple of Christmas cards. He will return with a minor bundle of excess cargo from me...
It is quite a culture shock to be in Melbourne from the Middle East. Even my friend M., who I met in Damascus but is now back home here, is just getting over it after 4 months. As cities, the difference between Canberra (where she studies now) and Damascus is far and wide. Culturally, I am still not quite used to it. I'm converting prices into Syrian pounds and nothing makes sense. (I even convert to Canadian dollars and nothing makes sense) When I was at the bank, I asked for some small bills - there were never enough small notes in circulation in Syria. And generally, it's too easy here. My brain is numb from how easy it is to do easy things. I know, people spend their entire lives making daily life easier for the general public, but still...
Despite that it's the usual thing - they drive on the left side, the water's spins the "other" way, it's late summer here, and everyone walks upside down here down under - except me, of course, being from up and over. And there's no recession here, there never was. A highly coal-fired China has propped up the country like nothing else.
My father came in earlier this week, and that night the entire clan got together for dinner. My current research project is to find out who's who here, and have managed to collect data for a well-sized family tree. Inputting names should be interesting - formal Chinese name (blah blah blah), informal Chinese name (ah blah), transliterated Chinese name, English name, and "relation" name (what I call that relative, because of my relation to him/her).
The Chinese food intake has been constant and consistently very good. I think it's actually better than Vancouver. The dishes are a little different but very well done, and I have also had by now some good ol' jook and cheung fun.
Whereas last week I will getting over jetlag, this week is about visiting relatives. Next week may involve some local travelling, possibly a walk from Torquay to Anglesea.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Box Hill
No more 4-car garages, no more unlimited irrigation of Malaysian tropical plants with desalinated water in the heat of the afternoon. Maa salaame Muscat.
Now I'm in Oz, the land of fires, droughts, and floods. Where in Melbourne the water reservoir is at a fantastic 34% level. Where you are only supposed to have 4 minute showers, and signs on the suburban streets around my aunt's house proudly proclaim that they are watered with reclaimed or tank water.
I'm in Box Hill, a western suburb with its own "enlarged map" in the Melways map book - so it must have some significance. Box Hill is also a place in Surrey, England - where all of Emma's plans fell through in Jane Austen's book. I'm not sure if I have any plans just now except to wake up before 1pm and exercise a bit. My aunt's border looked at me in a certain way when I said that I wanted to walk in a park rather than see the city centre today.
Specifically, I'm at an internet "cafe". More like an internet hall. It's completely reminiscent of the one I used in Urumqi, China - just a small version. There's about 40 computers packed efficiently here, and everyone (except me) is an Asian male, most Mandarin-speaking. Everyone is chatting, it is pretty lively in here. My Windows is a Chinese version, and the language input is some version of Chinese. It's an instant pop quiz in terms of remembering the short cuts for "new window" or "new tab".
Box Hill is, in my eyes, a total success in terms of suburban town planning. It's changed quite a bit in the past 5 years. It seemed like it used to be Cantonese - now it's quite Mandarin. The centre is charged with a subway train station and a shopping centre, with a high-quality Asian version of Granville Island Market. It has a lot of people around, a lot of small restaurants and outdoor places to enjoy bubble tea, and a life up to 2am.
Now I'm in Oz, the land of fires, droughts, and floods. Where in Melbourne the water reservoir is at a fantastic 34% level. Where you are only supposed to have 4 minute showers, and signs on the suburban streets around my aunt's house proudly proclaim that they are watered with reclaimed or tank water.
I'm in Box Hill, a western suburb with its own "enlarged map" in the Melways map book - so it must have some significance. Box Hill is also a place in Surrey, England - where all of Emma's plans fell through in Jane Austen's book. I'm not sure if I have any plans just now except to wake up before 1pm and exercise a bit. My aunt's border looked at me in a certain way when I said that I wanted to walk in a park rather than see the city centre today.
Specifically, I'm at an internet "cafe". More like an internet hall. It's completely reminiscent of the one I used in Urumqi, China - just a small version. There's about 40 computers packed efficiently here, and everyone (except me) is an Asian male, most Mandarin-speaking. Everyone is chatting, it is pretty lively in here. My Windows is a Chinese version, and the language input is some version of Chinese. It's an instant pop quiz in terms of remembering the short cuts for "new window" or "new tab".
Box Hill is, in my eyes, a total success in terms of suburban town planning. It's changed quite a bit in the past 5 years. It seemed like it used to be Cantonese - now it's quite Mandarin. The centre is charged with a subway train station and a shopping centre, with a high-quality Asian version of Granville Island Market. It has a lot of people around, a lot of small restaurants and outdoor places to enjoy bubble tea, and a life up to 2am.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Sinaw
Just came back from the interior. G. and I went down to a place called Sinaw. First breakfast at what seemed to be the only place there. I had a most delicious fruit juice cocktail, we each had scrambled eggs, Indian chai, and Indian bread. Then we took off to the souq, which does not look like much as the building is 30 years old, but the souq is in fact old. Being on the edge of the desert, it is close to all the Bedu. In one month all the Bedu families and their camels will set up there for the summer in palm leaf shelters, and avoid the strong summer winds along the coast.
We spent about 2 hours at a knife shop, getting custom knives made for the whole of 1 OMR each. The steel is from old car parts, C4 he calls it. We spend some time later exploring Old Sinaw, which looks like an uninhabited Malian mud-brick village. And just now, having come back to Muscat, we see a friendly giant "Rusland" or Antonov 224 fly overhead, on its way to Afghanistan. Dinner tonight will be take-away from the Royal Flight canteen on the roof.
We've done all sorts of things after he's come back from work, and able to take me out of the compound. All from taking me to the City Centre Mall and Beit Jubayr, to a fish dinner in Al Maida (a Yemani restaurant) surrounded by cats, to fancy drinks at Chedi Muscat, where we saw the Belgium top ranked tennis player walk by (look, that's Kim!). I have to admit I don't know her, but anyways, now I am illuminated.
Tomorrow on the plane to Melbourne, to visit family mostly but also a friend I met in Damascus. Via Qatar Airways which is a treat. On the way here it was only 10% full - I've never seen an airplane so devoid of people and the food and drinks service so quick. Will see how it is to Melbourne. The films are good - they have current foreign films so I am happily catching up with the offerings of contemporary Danish cinematography.
We spent about 2 hours at a knife shop, getting custom knives made for the whole of 1 OMR each. The steel is from old car parts, C4 he calls it. We spend some time later exploring Old Sinaw, which looks like an uninhabited Malian mud-brick village. And just now, having come back to Muscat, we see a friendly giant "Rusland" or Antonov 224 fly overhead, on its way to Afghanistan. Dinner tonight will be take-away from the Royal Flight canteen on the roof.
We've done all sorts of things after he's come back from work, and able to take me out of the compound. All from taking me to the City Centre Mall and Beit Jubayr, to a fish dinner in Al Maida (a Yemani restaurant) surrounded by cats, to fancy drinks at Chedi Muscat, where we saw the Belgium top ranked tennis player walk by (look, that's Kim!). I have to admit I don't know her, but anyways, now I am illuminated.
Tomorrow on the plane to Melbourne, to visit family mostly but also a friend I met in Damascus. Via Qatar Airways which is a treat. On the way here it was only 10% full - I've never seen an airplane so devoid of people and the food and drinks service so quick. Will see how it is to Melbourne. The films are good - they have current foreign films so I am happily catching up with the offerings of contemporary Danish cinematography.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Muscat
Day 2 here. Just back from an evening drive.
G. has been introducing me to the wonders of Muscat. A place designed for the car, it's where petrol's free (just have to pay a service charge), cars go at top speed, new roads are being built all the time, and all things go towards making Oman to having the largest ecological footprint in the world.
We pass by 8 storey concrete prefabs started 2 months ago - the Indian slavery here is efficient. We pass by a house built for "His Excellency" or for "His Highness" - there are many of these compounds. In front of us - and we are almost always on the road - are cars with special licence plates indicating that the driver is part of the Royal Palace. Untouchable.
We go by the former Royal Palace, now the Guest Palace. 2000 acres.
G. tells me about the facades of this city and culture. Sultan Qaboos didn't like how the shops looked on the street leading up to the Guest Palace, so he had a facade wall built to cover them up.
He tells me about the enormous convoys of 3000 people - 1,200 cars - that go into the desert, accompanying the Sultan when he wants to set up camp.
Huge planes, the largest in the world, fly every two hours above us, carrying some kind of something from Sudan or Afghanistan or Iraq. Oman is neutral, but the British and the Americans have some presence here.
Lots of road stories...
G. has been introducing me to the wonders of Muscat. A place designed for the car, it's where petrol's free (just have to pay a service charge), cars go at top speed, new roads are being built all the time, and all things go towards making Oman to having the largest ecological footprint in the world.
We pass by 8 storey concrete prefabs started 2 months ago - the Indian slavery here is efficient. We pass by a house built for "His Excellency" or for "His Highness" - there are many of these compounds. In front of us - and we are almost always on the road - are cars with special licence plates indicating that the driver is part of the Royal Palace. Untouchable.
We go by the former Royal Palace, now the Guest Palace. 2000 acres.
G. tells me about the facades of this city and culture. Sultan Qaboos didn't like how the shops looked on the street leading up to the Guest Palace, so he had a facade wall built to cover them up.
He tells me about the enormous convoys of 3000 people - 1,200 cars - that go into the desert, accompanying the Sultan when he wants to set up camp.
Huge planes, the largest in the world, fly every two hours above us, carrying some kind of something from Sudan or Afghanistan or Iraq. Oman is neutral, but the British and the Americans have some presence here.
Lots of road stories...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Lazy in Lattakia
I meet Sam, a Syrian-Canadian - the first I've met - at the Hotel lobby in Lattakia. Here for a few months doing research, as part of his medical studies in Toronto. I had just come back from an unfruitful search for a hair salon for women. Islam has a thing with women's hair, making it difficult to see women's hair being cut, and thereby hair salons for women as they are never on the first floor but on the second. Sam tells me there is a great hair salon on the way to where he lives in the centre of town, so we go off, and he drops me off at the ground floor.
I go up the stairs. Natural light shows me the way. On the second floor, there is less natural light, or any light for that matter. It's quite dark in fact. I barely make out "Salon" lettering on a wall down the corridor. I try to be hopeful, as Sam tells me this place is always open. I peer in an open doorway. Six people sit in a circle in darkness, in what seems to be the salon entry.
Marhaba? I say with a definite question mark at the end. Can I get a haircut, is this place open? They sort of barely make out that it is a very Asian-looking ajnabeeya in the doorway, and, given the power outage, the one who becomes my stylist couldn't help but laugh given the circumstances. Yes I say, this ajnabeeya would like a haircut if possible. And eventually I get a very good one, and feel that some weight has been lifted, just in time for the heat of Muscat next week.
Lattakia has been a good place to not do an awful lot, and bask in the enormous pleasure of speaking simple Arabic to very friendly people. The city to its advantage lacks the "drama" that can sometimes discolour the tourist-local relationship in Damascus. It's very down-to-earth here. An authentic welcomeness in their disinterest, and thereby lack of outright distinction between the qualities between a local and tourist.
The hotel I am at has a Tintin-theme to it, and I've perused through about 4 Tintin books in French, English, and Danish. I've met more Canadians here than in Damascus. Tomorrow we are off to Tartus, insha'allah, about an hour south by bus. Grey and overcast today, much a la Vancouver - but yesterday we had a glorious sunny day, and felt the salt-sea breezes of the Mediterranean waft by our cheeks.
I go up the stairs. Natural light shows me the way. On the second floor, there is less natural light, or any light for that matter. It's quite dark in fact. I barely make out "Salon" lettering on a wall down the corridor. I try to be hopeful, as Sam tells me this place is always open. I peer in an open doorway. Six people sit in a circle in darkness, in what seems to be the salon entry.
Marhaba? I say with a definite question mark at the end. Can I get a haircut, is this place open? They sort of barely make out that it is a very Asian-looking ajnabeeya in the doorway, and, given the power outage, the one who becomes my stylist couldn't help but laugh given the circumstances. Yes I say, this ajnabeeya would like a haircut if possible. And eventually I get a very good one, and feel that some weight has been lifted, just in time for the heat of Muscat next week.
Lattakia has been a good place to not do an awful lot, and bask in the enormous pleasure of speaking simple Arabic to very friendly people. The city to its advantage lacks the "drama" that can sometimes discolour the tourist-local relationship in Damascus. It's very down-to-earth here. An authentic welcomeness in their disinterest, and thereby lack of outright distinction between the qualities between a local and tourist.
The hotel I am at has a Tintin-theme to it, and I've perused through about 4 Tintin books in French, English, and Danish. I've met more Canadians here than in Damascus. Tomorrow we are off to Tartus, insha'allah, about an hour south by bus. Grey and overcast today, much a la Vancouver - but yesterday we had a glorious sunny day, and felt the salt-sea breezes of the Mediterranean waft by our cheeks.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Omayyad
For your reading pleasure, my summary of research initiated while at the Institute, also online on www.damaskus.dk .
Geometrical Ornamentation at the Omayyad Mosque
Geometrical Ornamentation at the Omayyad Mosque
Through the support of and residency at the Danish Institute I have been able to conduct a study on a small but important part of Islamic architecture. With a professional background in architecture, and using simple tools of drawing and research, I have been able to make some preliminary observations that are intriguing and worthy of further exploration. This written summary is based on an illustrated presentation at the Danish Institute on 2 Feb 2010. The study has shed new light both on the design of the grilles themselves and on their relationship to their spatial and historical context. This was also an opportunity to reflect on the relationship between structure and ornament in architecture. I suggest that geometry, in particular the golden ratio, was not ornamental in the sense of being non-essential and applied, but in fact integral and fundamental in the structure and design of many elements of the Mosque. As Euclidean mathematical ideas were revealed in the objects of study, I think that modern architectural expressions could build from experimentations in more current, non-Euclidean mathematics as a way of, perhaps, revealing Paradise on earth.
There are 6 marble window grilles located on the west side of the courtyard in the Omayyad Mosque in Damascus. They each have a unique geometrical pattern, two of which were studied as drawings to incorporate the golden ratio, and not based on more typical four- or six-sided forms. Claimed to be original elements in what is one of the oldest extant Islamic monuments, they may well represent one of the earliest usage of geometrical ornamentation in Islamic architecture.
The context, design, material, dimension, symbolism and functionality (or lack of – in modern building envelope terms) of the grilles suggest a bridge between the sacred and the profane, and between Islam and the ruling Omayyad Caliphate at the time. They lack noteworthiness (being under the spectacular Barada mosaic), functionality (providing neither light or view), and visual integration on the façade when viewed from the courtyard. The lack of functionality is underscored by the relocation of 4 of these grilles above their original sill location, such that the original header is behind and within the space of the grilles. I would suggest that these are exquisite pieces of artwork rather than architectural ornamentation, framed and positioned as if they were functional building elements, but noteworthy because they appear not to be so at all. The relationship between these grilles to the Mosque is less in terms of typical building connections but more in terms of the golden ratio. Drawings of two of the grilles suggest the use of the golden ratio, both in the overall dimension as well as in the interior geometric pattern. Moreover, using rough measurements on photographs and available drawings, the ratio is suggested to be found in the exterior dimensions of the Mosque, the two wings beside the domed nave, the exterior façade of the central nave and the original section through this domed nave. Just at the Mosque is a unique religious and – at the time, political – precinct, these grilles perhaps also have equal spiritual and political tones. They appear to be a “window” to Paradise but also windows into the Uthman Room, a reception room which, by the right-hand rule when facing the Mosque entry, would have been a politically important room.
It has been satisfying to look closely into a small part of Islamic architecture, and to look at the underlying lines beneath geometric patterns rather than simply copy-and-paste, a more common method of looking at “exotic” ornamentation. While it is anticipated that further drawings are made of the 6 grilles for exhibition, it is hoped that future study can look at the notion of ornament as fundamental, and how architecture can reveal and relate to more contemporary mathematics. Such would bring value and relevance of this historical study to modern practice, and continue the search for what makes architecture, architecture.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Year of the Tiger
You are a certain animal in Chinese astrology. However, unless you are a tiger, of course you would like to be like one of us. Tigers are most wonderful creatures, no question about it.
One option is to dress up in a tiger suit, but another, much more meaningful one is to take a rigourous programme of courses and obtain certification. There's probably an international school for this in a city near you.
Courses include:
- Basic Tiger Survival Skills - in Zoos, Forests, and on urban outskirts
- Advanced Tiger Grammar and Phonetics - Rar! in Practice and Theory
- How to Love another Tiger - Safe and Non-destructive Nibbling Techniques
- Practical Tiger Grooming - Common Hammam Practices for the Very Hairy
- Tiger Cuisine - New Explorations in Raw Meat
Upon completion you get a nice flea collar with a gold name tag. You then have the privilege of learning the secret tiger purr as well as a song which describes how fabulous and amazing tigers are - and this you need to sing 5 times a day in order to maintain your certification of practice.
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It is my last week in Damascus. I am keeping to a similar schedule as usual - a blend of Arabic, cooking, reading, exploring - but there's more gift-giving just now as I lighten up my load, and a bit more personal admin as I organize my next few weeks as I go on the road again.
My Arabic is just getting good. I have been verbing so much that I long to be an adjective again. I have learnt to phonetically approximate the secret code for "Can you give me a discount" - a sentence complex enough that I don't quiet know what the structure is yet, but it apparently impresses shopowners enough to reduce whatever I am buying by a dollar or so. Arabic is slowly paying off.
It has been a very Christian week for me the past week. Last Friday was a short day trip to Seidnayya, a town just 1/2 hour away. An important pilgrimage town in the Middle Ages, second only to Jerusalem. The main monastery was spatially amazing - stairs, courtyards, balconies, terraces in a full 3D labyrinth. Tough to say how old it was - like most buildings here there is a lot of ongoing rebuilding. On Sunday I went to the Armenian Orthodox Church for service, which lasted 2 hours. They also have a curtain, like the Armenian Catholic Church. But here it was always drawn. Full Mystery. Like coming to a theatre to see a play, but the curtains remained closed.
Also finally went to a hammam here. "Only" 12th century - the oldest here is 9th century but that is only for men. The one I went to was really nice, a good honest scrub in very nice surroundings with a couple of friends. There is one in Aleppo that I hope to try too.
Looking forward to Aleppo. One book says there are 10km of souq, another says 30km. Probably a truly delightful commercial experience, however long it is. Due to its location, one book says that they really had to work to get people to come to Aleppo, as it is not a natural crossroads. And because it has been so ignored for the past hundred years it has not been modernized - so pretty ideal for the modern tourist now. A very old city, and it will probably look it, much more than Damascus. Even the Jdeide Quarter or "New Quarter" refers to an area that began in the 15th century.
Also gearing up for the route afterwards. I am languishing for rice rolls and jook, so have already made arrangements to go to Crispy Duck Restaurant with some friends in London. I'm just there for a night, after which I am off to Muscat for the last 2 weeks in March, and then Melbourne for April to visit family.
One option is to dress up in a tiger suit, but another, much more meaningful one is to take a rigourous programme of courses and obtain certification. There's probably an international school for this in a city near you.
Courses include:
- Basic Tiger Survival Skills - in Zoos, Forests, and on urban outskirts
- Advanced Tiger Grammar and Phonetics - Rar! in Practice and Theory
- How to Love another Tiger - Safe and Non-destructive Nibbling Techniques
- Practical Tiger Grooming - Common Hammam Practices for the Very Hairy
- Tiger Cuisine - New Explorations in Raw Meat
Upon completion you get a nice flea collar with a gold name tag. You then have the privilege of learning the secret tiger purr as well as a song which describes how fabulous and amazing tigers are - and this you need to sing 5 times a day in order to maintain your certification of practice.
--------------------------------------------------------
It is my last week in Damascus. I am keeping to a similar schedule as usual - a blend of Arabic, cooking, reading, exploring - but there's more gift-giving just now as I lighten up my load, and a bit more personal admin as I organize my next few weeks as I go on the road again.
My Arabic is just getting good. I have been verbing so much that I long to be an adjective again. I have learnt to phonetically approximate the secret code for "Can you give me a discount" - a sentence complex enough that I don't quiet know what the structure is yet, but it apparently impresses shopowners enough to reduce whatever I am buying by a dollar or so. Arabic is slowly paying off.
It has been a very Christian week for me the past week. Last Friday was a short day trip to Seidnayya, a town just 1/2 hour away. An important pilgrimage town in the Middle Ages, second only to Jerusalem. The main monastery was spatially amazing - stairs, courtyards, balconies, terraces in a full 3D labyrinth. Tough to say how old it was - like most buildings here there is a lot of ongoing rebuilding. On Sunday I went to the Armenian Orthodox Church for service, which lasted 2 hours. They also have a curtain, like the Armenian Catholic Church. But here it was always drawn. Full Mystery. Like coming to a theatre to see a play, but the curtains remained closed.
Also finally went to a hammam here. "Only" 12th century - the oldest here is 9th century but that is only for men. The one I went to was really nice, a good honest scrub in very nice surroundings with a couple of friends. There is one in Aleppo that I hope to try too.
Looking forward to Aleppo. One book says there are 10km of souq, another says 30km. Probably a truly delightful commercial experience, however long it is. Due to its location, one book says that they really had to work to get people to come to Aleppo, as it is not a natural crossroads. And because it has been so ignored for the past hundred years it has not been modernized - so pretty ideal for the modern tourist now. A very old city, and it will probably look it, much more than Damascus. Even the Jdeide Quarter or "New Quarter" refers to an area that began in the 15th century.
Also gearing up for the route afterwards. I am languishing for rice rolls and jook, so have already made arrangements to go to Crispy Duck Restaurant with some friends in London. I'm just there for a night, after which I am off to Muscat for the last 2 weeks in March, and then Melbourne for April to visit family.
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