The Wolves

 

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of traveling to one of Spain’s finest national parks: Lago de Sanabria. Even though our program has 35 students, only a select 12 could go, given the awesome, peculiar nature of this trip. We were going to a place of natural solace, a place with distinct beauty, a place where we would need silence; we were going to track the Iberian wolf.

We made the two-hour-and-some trek to Lago de Sanabria where we eagerly unloaded all of our things into the homey, small, wooden cabins there in the mountains. The first thing I noticed was, lamentably, that I had not been in real, honest-to-God nature for such a long time. Finally, I was around pine trees, ancient moss covered oaks, clear lakes, and mountains. Whew, this was well needed! I am happy to report that my mental health improved by leagues as we stepped on to our first trail in the snow peaked mountains.

We spent the weekend in a natural paradise. The first morning we got to take a guided tour on the world’s first 100% ecological (motor) boat. It makes no sound, no waves, and is 100% powered by solar panels and wind power. As this is one of the most protected lakes in the country, the only way they would allow a boat on the water was, well, if they made one. Later, we went on another hike through the snow-frosted peaks of the area, passing through small mountainous villages as we went.

On the last day of the trip, we woke up early and headed to the wolf reservation. These animals, a species of grey wolf only native to the Iberian peninsula, used to roam most of Western Europe. Today about 2,000 remain. Needless to say, many of them live in protected environments in Lago de Sanabria. The problem is, however, they remains “undomesticated” and, consequently, extremely skittish. To see the wolves is to hide yourself entirely from their sight… and, even more challenging, out of their ear’s reach. We went at sunset, feeding time for the Iberian wolf. We hunkered down in a specialized camouflaged bunker, set on a tree line where the alphas are said to roam. Here, the rest would come. We just had to wait. So we waited, and waited, and then, out of the tree line came the wolves. They dominated the terrain. Inexplicably, they navigated so cautiously, so powerfully, so surely, that they had probably heard us before we had seen them. They had come to eat. It was if they had an internal clock. No sooner than it had turned exactly the hour, the wolves came. They knew. We were blown away by these animals and their intelligence. Most of all, we were amazed at how, in many ways, the wolf was more human than we were. Learning of their behaviours, family structures, and lifestyle, it became clear how special these animals were. We sat there in silence and awe as the beasts devoured their evening meal, and as the Spanish sunset put itself out on their backs.

Below is a poem I wrote (in Spanish) about the event. It was impactful in ways I couldn’t really sum up in a different way. I hope you all enjoy it, but be cautious of what you read on Google Translate. You can’t trust everything you see on the Internet.

Best,

El Lobo

Los bosques de España llaman a unas pocas personas

Que se atreven a responder

Entre la sombra caminan, sin camino, sin saber

Adónde van, qué quieren, qué van a hacer

Como todo el mundo, en su vida resulta igual,

los que con la voluntad de buscar

Les encontrarán menos mal

Pero en la compañía de los árboles, entre su ventosa conversación,

Tenemos claro lo que nos falta

Nos aparece nuestra aparición

Cómo suenan los ríos, qué bonitos son!

En su riqueza descansamos, su poder nos inspiró

Aunque son sencillos, sin vuelta, con patrón

Siempre hay mis pensamientos, allí, en montón   

Sobre todo vamos caminando, pase lo que pase

Por las lagunas, vamos, por las piedras y tal

Nos acuerda del pequeñez, la grandeza, de la vida real

Allí lo vimos, en su reino de robles y musgo,

Lo saludamos por su gracia

Viviendo escondido en sus tierras de vieja

One of the visitors centers that welcomed us at the park
This was one of the most beautiful animals I had seen. She was relaxing after her sunset meal.
Solar powered. Wind powered. Noiseless. Like a boat-Prius.
Just a couple of kids and a cliff, overlooking Lago de Sanabria, the largest glacial lake on the Iberian Peninsula.
I am debating with this guide about the efficiency of wearing 6 coats wrapped around my waist while hiking up hill. I did not win.
Here’s the group at the lake.
One of the “paths” up the mountain.
Here’s a wolf “hideout”. We had to view them through holes in camouflaged wood.
Here are two of the non-alpha females. As you can see, we were very close to the animals.

 

Concert in Glasgow

After spending nearly three weeks traveling around the UK and mainland Europe for the University of Aberdeen’s spring break, I arrived back at Aberdeen late last night. I rarely had reliable WiFi on the trip, so I had planned on submitting a few blogs about the trip today. When I went to do this; however, I discovered that I had never actually hit the “Submit” button on my most recent blog about a concert I went to about a month ago now. After spending a week downloading all of the bands’ new music and walking to classes in t-shirts with their names plastered across the chest, this is what I had written:

 

“Anyone who has been on a road-trip with me has experienced my many road-trip games, and my girlfriend had the pleasure of putting up with them all morning last week (as in the week before I actually wrote this three weeks ago) when we took an early morning bus to Glasgow to spend a day in the city and see a concert at night. One of the games I like to play is called “top-3,” and it is pretty self-explanatory. Basically, I give a category and the contestants share their “top 3” for the category. One of the categories for this trip was “all-time favorite concerts,” and after narrowing down a top 3, we were each excited to see if the one that night would rank among the likes of Elton John, Darius Rucker, Ben Rector, and OneRepublic in our lists.

Since I had already been to Glasgow for a weekend trip with some friends, we only briefly visited some of the major tourist attractions that I had already spent time in: the Necropolis, Glasgow Cathedral, and Kelvingrove Park. We spent the rest of the day walking around in the heart of the city, trying a highly recommended Kebab restaurant, and exploring the Hunterian Museum at the University of Glasgow. Glasgow’s city-center (or “centre”) is filled with walking streets that pass through shopping and dining areas, kind of like an extensive outdoor mall. On the day we went, these streets were crowded with street performers and groups of people stopped to watch or listen to them. The walk was really enjoyable, and we wound up stumbling onto a kebab place that I had recognized from reading positive reviews online the night before.

**Quick foodie interjection: For anyone who hasn’t had or heard of a doner kebab (since I hadn’t before getting here), a doner kebab is essentially lamb shavings and vegetables wrapped in pita bread. It is not a Scottish dish. I believe it is Turkish. But, they are wildly popular here as a late night snack to share with friends or as a quick meal. I highly recommend googling it right now and finding the nearest location to you that offers them, because they are delicious. I have probably eaten between 15 and 20 of them since being here.**

With full-stomachs, we headed to explore the beautiful architecture of the University of Glasgow and were intrigued by signs pointing toward the Hunterian Museum. The Hunterian is a large collection of artifacts started by a fascinating man named Dr. William Hunter who had a wide-variety of passions. The collection is about as diverse as Hunter’s interests were, containing anatomical and medical, technological, political, and biological artifacts. This diversity was perfect for my girlfriend (a kinesiology major) and me (a biology major). The collection is really impressive and informative. You could spend an entire day there, but we only stayed for a couple hours.

At the end of the night, we went to this concert venue called “the Garage (attic).” The venue was small but not too crowded. The first band in the lineup was Indigo Velvet, followed by Vistas, and then Marsicans. These bands are not incredibly well-known (yet) but they all have really great music. If you are at all interested in alternative rock, I would recommend checking them out. Every one of the bands put on a fantastic show, and my girlfriend and I were both left with a new concert holding the number one position on our list of “all-time favorite concerts,” as well as a continuous ringing in our ears.

 

Thanks to my slip-up of not pressing submit, I had some extra time to reflect on the significance of this concert to my study-abroad experience as a whole. I love music, and I appreciate the way that music ties in with memory and inspiring emotion. I will always be amazed by the power that a specific song has in taking me back to a specific time, place, and feeling. This entire spring break trip, my girlfriend and I found ourselves humming or singing parts of the songs we’d heard at this concert. The concert itself was a wonderful experience that I will always remember, and the songs from the concert will also always take me back to this special period of time abroad and all of the times these songs were stuck in my head, like while eating gelato in the streets of Vienna or hiking the hill up to the Citadella in Budapest. But more on that spring break trip soon.

Poorly taken photo of Marsicans performing at the Garage (the Attic)

In the Neighborhood: Mutrah

For three more weeks, I get to wake up and go to sleep in my cozy room at the Al Amana Center in Muscat. I finally feel as if I know this neighborhood and some of the patterns the locals take each day. I’d like to take you through the streets and let you smell the smells and feel the sweet sun on your face. I hope that pictures and descriptions will work, although I encourage you to one day walk through Mutrah, Oman (a specific section of Muscat) and if not Mutrah, then take a walk through a neighborhood very different from your own. The people you meet and hidden gems you find may leave impressions on you like tattoos on the heart.

My backyard
View of Mutrah at night and from above
Street outside the Al Amana Center

Every morning around 7:00am, David, Laurel and I make our way across the street to Hammer Gym to get some lifting in before it gets too hot. Surrounded by men lifting and grunting on their machines, I can take a spot on a treadmill that faces the Al Amana Center. Straight below is a clinic and I watch women dressed in all white from hijab to sneakers arrive for work. Sometimes I’ll see kids in school uniform on the staircase to the gym, but other than that the mornings are quiet aside from the morning prayer call just before dawn.

Past Hammer Gym and around the corner, a taxi stand is busting with men in dishdashas and kumas hoping to find some luck transporting a tourist today. They know our group well enough by now that they don’t ask “taxi?” and instead offer a greeting “As salaam alaikum” (peace be upon you).  Occasionally, a new driver might ask if we need a ride earning him a shove or a light slap from the guy sitting next to him. “They don’t need ride, their bait (house) is right around the corner”. It’s nice to be recognized. Across from the stand, a walled-in, makeshift garden has smoke rising from a kitchen chimney. Smells of meat and fries float from the restaurant. We call this place “Plate O’ Meat” because they offer a mean Turkish grill under strung up twinkly lights in the evening complete with juice and mint tea. Yum!

Entrance to the souq on the corniche
Scarves and kumas for sale in a shop in the souq
Front entrance to the soul
Shah’s shop
Main channel in the soul

Down the street, shops upon shops lead up to the entrance to the Mutrah Souq. The souq (market in Arabic) has supposedly been planted in Mutrah for around 600 years. It holds hundreds of stalls and salesmen who day in and day out sell dates, incense and frankincense, scarves, rugs, spices and other trinkets and souvenirs. Both the local Omani and the tourist shop here and it’s right in my backyard. I love walking through in the morning and at night as I blend in with the droves of shoppers looking for a bargain. I love the mix of people and the maze of paths to take. The smell of floral perfume sticks to the walls and most days I can’t shake the smell off of me for hours after visiting. An entire section is devoted to just gold which is designated for only women in Islam. I’ve stuck to smaller items, but I’m still drawn to the glitter of the gold and the interesting designs of abaya I find in the shops.

Ben posing by the water
Can you spot the turtle in the water?
David edging close to the waves
An Omani man feeds seagulls one morning

If you continue down the main stretch of the souq, you walk right up to the corniche, a path right along a harbor which is fed by the Indian ocean. In the Mutrah harbor, the Sultan’s two yachts anchor next to temporary cruise liners and military boats. Occasionally, I can hear the boats honking all the way back at the Al Amana Center. I once spotted a sea turtle here and always meet with swarms of seagulls on the shore. The water is a deep blue and the sea breeze does nothing to mask the thick humidity of spring.

To the west, a Shi’a mosque boasts brilliant teal and blue colored minarets. Just near the towers is the best shop for Karak tea (a secret recipe of spices and condensed milk added to black tea) and samosas. These are staples in the Omani diet.  Beyond that, is a giant fish market. Anything from huge sharks to fresh shrimp can be found here along with fresh produce and fruit. I came home one day with a huge hunk of honeycomb from Iran that a sweet, older Omani sold to me for a bargain. For those who know me, this honey kept my tea sweet and my heart happy for days following.

Sh’ia Mosque
In the market with the men who sold me the Iranian Honey
Crab, squid and shrimp fresh and for sale in the fish market
Giant Tuna in the fish market

To the east of the souq, you can find the best little shawarma shop in Oman run by twin brothers who always greet you with a smile. It was here that I wrote about “Juice Dates” in another blog and it’s a great spot to people watch at night. If you keep walking, you’ll see Mutrah fort up a hill and even further is a monument meant to boast Oman’s frankincense trade. Up on its hill, the world’s largest frankincense burner sits in the rocky hills. Mountain after mountain encircle the village of Mutrah and I’ve climbed some of the peak with friends here. The city at night is certainly different than the sunny mornings. My favorite time to climb is in the evening when I can sit on the rocks and listen to the final prayer call. From above, I am surrounded with chants on all sides, though lately the heat is still blistering even at night.

Park along the corniche
Best shwarama shop
Frankincense burner monument
Restaurants along the corniche

The word Mutrah means “to throw something down”, and ships have thrown down their anchors in this major port city for centuries. Living in Mutrah has caused me to want to plant myself within the community and learn more and more about the people here. But, anchors are not supposed to stay embedded in the sand forever. Rather, they must be lifted back in their boats and carried off to somewhere new. I look forward to heading home in a few weeks. However, until then, I’m planted here to take in all the sights of the neighborhood that I can. My individual anchor may not leave an impression, but I hope I’ll remember the impressions this place has left on me.

Me on top of a mountain looking out over Mutrah

Even so, Come Lord Jesus

” A new way of understanding other religions implies a new way of understanding Christianity. Christians do indeed face both problems and promises when they honestly and lovingly face the reality of other religions. ”                                                                                                           – Paul F. Knitter (Introducing Theologies of Religions)

Wow. Never have I felt like there is more at stake in my faith than I have in my Muslim-Christian relations class. Just one question, “Do Muslims and Christians worship the same God?” can make my palms and neck sweat immediately. There seems to be something heavy attached to me when I am asked to share my theology or what I think about an Islamic thought. A weight that I’ve never felt feel so dense before. My mind is full of questions like, what do Christians do in a more pluralistic society? What does it mean to be inclusive in a religion that preaches of exclusive salvation? How can Muslims and Christians get along when their beliefs are seemingly so contradictory? Oy. Loaded concepts, difficult, heart throbbing, heat rising. So many questions with individual and communal implications. Implications for the church and for my future. Yikes, that’s a lot!

Let me explain. For my next paper, I have to write about my personal theology of religions in reference to Paul Knitter’s book Introducing Theologies of Religions. In other words, how should/do Christians relate to other religions theologically and in practice? The hardest part is knowing that this question is what I should be asking myself anyway. This essay isn’t just for a homework assignment, it is crucial to my hopes for now and for the future. Especially, if I’m going to head to seminary after undergrad, or even just for my personal relationship with God. Studying abroad, learning about new cultures and meeting people who are very different than you — especially if you’re in a country that centers on a whole different religion than your own— makes you ask huge questions of yourself, of others, of the world and even of God. Even writing this my forehead is damp and my heartbeat has spiked because I know these aren’t small things to ponder.

Books I’m reading for my Muslim-Christian relations course: A Muslim and Christian in Dialogue by Badru D. Kateregga and David W. Shenk, Theologies of Religions by Paul F. Knitter A History of Christian-Muslim Relations by High Goddard

When faith, when salvation, when the religion I center most, if not all of my actions on is questioned or pushed, it can be scary and overwhelming. Sometimes, I catch myself wondering if I’m a good enough Christian as I see the devotion of Muslims heading to prayer or hear the conviction that seems to be greater than my own in the voices of my peers. Other times, I find myself questioning if there are beautiful parts of Islam that I wish were more emphasized on in Christianity such as reserving judgment or to strive for peace between “people of the book” (Muslims, Christians and Jews). This is not to say that these elements are not in other religions, they just seem clearer to me in Islam.

Yet, God’s voice has been so present in helping me. When questions get uncomfortable, I find comfort in scripture and prayer. When I feel overwhelmed with not knowing what to think, he reminds me that I am known, and he is all-knowing. He listens to the struggle. At one point I asked our program director and professor Justin how he handles it all living in Oman as a Christian and interacting with so many Muslims. He said he doesn’t always know what to do, or when he feels useless or like he is not reaching people, he remembers to think “even so, come Lord Jesus”. I’ve since written that phrase on the back of my notebook as a reminder.

I’m searching for and questioning Truth in every class, and I’m still only confident in the fact that faith has to be had because I simply won’t ever know all the answers. I might share about my faith with my Muslim neighbors purely as a witness to what I have learned in the gospel and not to convert (conversion of any kind, not just to Christianity, is illegal in Oman), and not quite do it justice. “Even so… come Lord Jesus”. I can mess up my words and not truly say what I mean or even say something that is wrong altogether, “even so… come Lord Jesus”. I may have a moment of doubt in faith, “even so… come Lord Jesus”.

Just one of the many mosques in Muscat, Oman. They line streets like churches in Holland, Michigan, form the intersections of community. I love seeing all the colorful minarets.

So, back to this essay. I’ve realized that the weight I feel when I read the prompt is simply just passion. The question of how I relate as a Christian, as a person of faith, to people of different belief systems is so, so important to me. I am passionate about caring for people of different faiths. I am passionate about preventing violence with religious values that only promote peace. I am passionate about interfaith dialogue and action. If so, then why do I feel like a weight is holding me back? Why do I need a three-hour nap after every class as if I’m defeated by the conversation?

A lot is at stake when I’m not sure what the answers are.  So, I give them over. God is the all-knowing. If I don’t know all the answers, it’s okay. Shway, Shway (Arabic for “little by little”—it’s becoming one of my favorite phrases). I will learn. When I realize that, the heavy weight of passion turns into a light, lofty sail, and it pulls me to where I can question again. It propels me to keep learning, reading, writing about interreligious relations and cooperation. I’m so happy and lucky to have this opportunity to learn in an active, dynamic, “high stakes” environment. Being in Oman, at the Al Amana Center is sometimes difficult and at times anxiety driving. But it is so, so worth it as my passion is renewed and pulling me onwards. In fact, it is crucial to my growth as an individual, as a Christian and for my part in community. I’m feeling excited, enthusiastic and renewed and still, I say, “Come Lord Jesus”!

Public Transportation

Freiburg prides itself on being a “green” city, and one of these points is that more people travel with bikes or public transportation than use cars. My host family doesn’t even own a car!

I live in the western-most section of Freiburg, Rieselfeld. Freiburg is relatively compact, though, so my apartment is only three miles from the city center. One thing I’ve learned about living in a city, however, is that distances are longer than they seem! I’m from the “Motor City”, where everyone has a car and three miles isn’t far at all, but here it takes me 35 minutes to commute to class every day. Luckily, because I live at the end of the line, I always get a seat during the morning rush hour!

The streetcars run through the historic district in the heart of the city. The historic area is a pedestrian zone, but it’s also the most important train station in the city!

To use the trains, I had to buy a semester ticket. This ticket allows me to ride around the city unlimited from April to August, but was relatively expensive. Usually you just hop on and off the trams without anyone checking your ticket. However, occasionally officials walk through the tram and check tickets, and if you’re caught riding the public transportation without a ticket, you incur a 60 Euro fine!

No one checked for my ticket at all for the first month I was in Freiburg, but then the transit system did its massive, city-wide crackdown on Good Friday. Luckily, I had my ticket with me! A friend of mine was caught without hers, though, and was fined. She was able to go to the transportation center and present her valid semester ticket the next day, and the fine was reduced to only 8 Euros. The crackdown caused mass panic throughout the city, though, as regular Schwarzfahrer (fair dodges, lit. “black riders”) were caught with fines. While I was sitting in the packed Munster before the Good Friday service, a woman stood up from the congregation and shouted to everyone “Hey! Listen here! Today is the crackdown on the public transit! Everyone, buy a ticket!”

These signs inform you which line/direction the tram is, and when it will arrive.

Bikes are also a very important mode of transportation in Freiburg. International students are able to buy a bike at full price, but then sell it back to the same shop for as much as 70% of the price at the end of the semester! Biking can also be faster than using the trams, especially on weekends where the trams only run every 15 minutes or less.

Rain and snow don’t stop people from riding bikes in Freiburg! Just bundle up or put a poncho on over your business attire!
This bike was lounging under a bridge in the Dreisam, the river that runs through Freiburg.

Bike paths are an integral part of the city’s infrastructure, and they’re well used.

This pedestrian and bike bridge over the train tracks is somewhat iconic. The people climbing on the structure of the bridge are in much less peril than they appear- there’s a sidewalk on the outside of the bridge, and the bike path is in the center.
Sacred Heart Church decorates the background of this photo of this well-known pedestrian and bike bridge. You can see here that the structure of the bridge is hemmed on both sides with paths. On the next arch back, you can see people sitting on the beams and enjoying the weather. The circular building on the left is the Radstation, where you can rent a bicycle- 1 day for 22 Euros.

Finally, you always have the option to walk! In fact, sometimes that may be your only option. Last Tuesday, the public transportation workers went on strike, which meant that no trams or buses were running in the entire city. Instead, I had to walk to class and back, which took me a little over an hour each way. Luckily, the strike only lasted 1 day, and I managed to avoid walking during the hail storm.

Finding Community

Hello there,

While being in another country I came to realize that I wanted to find a community. At first, it wasn’t easy looking for a group of people with anything in common. Finding a friend group, a church group, or even a mentor did not just fall into my hands.

I will say the international student directors and professors at UPAEP try their best to be available in directing and mentoring your experience here. Yet, I ended up finding a community in an unexpected way.

One day, a friend invited me to a young adults retreat near the university, during a three day weekend. It was said to be a life changing experience and an opportunity to find an encounter with God. On the search to meet more people from the area and lacking a home church I figured I should go.The day of the trip, we met youth of 14 – 25 years old, all questioning what the trip was going to entail. Unfortunately, I cannot spoil all the details of the retreat. But with complete honesty I can say it was one of the best experiences I have had. Through this event I was able to strengthen my relationship with God through each moment we had to simply sit in his presence. I reflected on my life with each testimony shared. I made decisions on how to grow in my spirituality through each encounter with those that I came to love there. It was truly breathtaking to meet so many people from different stages in life, choosing to become a family as our journey went on. The leaders of the retreat were so welcoming and supportive regardless of the burdens or mentalities we brought. I was amazed by how young some of them were and how they shared their personal stories and talents to better our experience.

After the retreat we continued building a community  with one another. They invited us to join them in praise and worship and bible study once a week. The family I built with these young adults will not be forgotten upon my arriving back home. I advise any student coming to UPAEP to take the initiative to attend such a powerful experience. The next retreat will take place on November 20th (shown in the flyer below).

Spring Breaking with the Breakers

 

Aside from the San Pedro homestay period, there has been little time for extracurricular exploration. But then Easter heralded the arrival of Spring Break, whereupon all the students got booted out into the great unknown and were told to not bother anyone for a week.

Seven friends from the program and I have decided to stick together, so our merry band is adventuring across Costa Rica as per usual—just now as tourists, not students. Because we have all been subjected to lectures about tourism’s negative impact in Costa Rica, we’re steering clear of the large beachfront hotels that use inordinate quantities of water and destroy local ecosystems. Instead, our little group is sticking to small eco lodges that work to reduce their water intake and manage their waste responsibly. To the customer, the main differences are limited air conditioning, smaller rooms, and a broader set of waste disposal bins with more specific labels. A small price to pay for a big impact! It’s also perfect for the broke student traveler; we’ve stuck to places that are between $10-15 per night, with (reliable!) wi-fi and breakfast included.

Lake Arenal is on the left, and I’ll let you take a wild guess at what’s on the right.

Our first stop was La Fortuna, (Fortune) a small tourist town in the shadow of Arenal Volcano. According to a local guide, the name comes from the fact that all of Arenal’s activity has been on the other side of the mountain, and so far the town has had wonderful luck in not getting scourged away by lava.1  The neighbors have not been so fortunate; the towns of Tabacón, Pueblo Nuevo and San Luís were obliterated in a devastating 1968 eruption. Thankfully, the monster recently grew tired of spitting fire and has been snoozing since 2010.
Though nobody is allowed to visit the rim, we hiked around Arenal, swam in a few lagoons, jumped on hanging bridges, and generally took in the sights. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a spring break quite as adventurous as this one. Click on the photos below to expand them!

Ferns reproduce through spores, which sometimes grow in clusters like these, called “sori.”
These claw marks are probably as close as I’ll get to seeing a jaguar. Given how deep and wide-set these are, I am quite content with the distance.
Rainbow eucalyptus (Eucalyptus deglupta) is a popular ornamental.

Later in the week we made our way to Montezuma beach, where the Nicoya Peninsula juts into the Pacific Ocean.

I’ve never been able to explore tide pools before! I spent two hours playing with hermit crabs this afternoon. I might need an intervention.

Once evening fell along the coast, we began to encounter bright purple and orange halloween crabs (Gecarcinus quadratus) by the thousands. When their hordes skittered through the dry leaf litter in search of shelter and food, their rustling drowned out even the roar of the Pacific surf. There is nothing to fear unless you are a farmer—though a few tried to taste my bare feet, they mostly subsist on seedlings and other vegetation.

I managed to snatch this one for a closer look, at the peril of my fingers. See that bubble? This halloween crab can extract oxygen from the air using two methods: either by routinely passing seawater over its feathery gill lamellae to keep them moist and salinated, or by switching to a pair of inflatable chambers lined with haemolymph vessels which oxygenate the heart in much the same way that our lungs and blood do. Not all crabs are capable of both, but halloween crabs belong to the land crab family (Gecarcinidae) and have specially adapted to life above the shoreline. Which method do you think it is using now?

They’re quite diligent workers, too. Several hundred of them were busily digging burrows along the shore, likely in preparation for breeding. This one showed particular architectural care, as he would vanish deep beneath the surface for minutes at a time before emerging with a new armload of sand.

I had better be off to prepare for the next leg of the semester, but I leave you with some more photos. Until next time!

This hermit crab has nearly outgrown his shell, but he still expertly folded himself away when he disliked my attention.
His courage returned to him.
A last look at the beach.

 

Trying Ayurveda

After my trip to the Telangana State Forest Academy, I was very excited to try an ayurvedic treatment for myself.  For three months I had heard nothing but praise about the therapies and curiosity had gotten the better of me.

While I could have gotten a massage virtually anywhere in Hyderabad, I held out until I visited a retreat in Kerala— a state in southern India that is known for being the birthplace of Ayurveda. Out of all the places I’ve visited in this country, Kerala is by far the most beautiful. Everything is full and green, even in the heat of India’s summer. Coming from Hyderabad, an extremely arid city, this greenery was a welcome relief. It was the perfect scenery to be spoiled by a massage.

Unlike massages I have had before, ayurvedic treatments require the masseuse to know a few things about my personal constitution. In Ayurveda, people have a unique balance of three “bio-elements” called doshas: vata (a product of air and ether), pitta (a product of fire and water), and kapha (a product of earth and water). These doshas affect what treatments they think would be useful as well as what products to use in the massage. To determine my constitution, I was asked whether or not I can stand hot weather, how strong my appetite is, and other similar questions. From these questions, the ayurvedic doctor determined that I was a Vata-Pitta constitution. Because of that my massages were done with sesame oil to combat the heat in my body.

To start my treatments, the masseuses said a small prayer over me. Though it is not an exclusively religious thing, Ayurveda is very closely linked to Hinduism—this surprised me. Back home, medicine and religion rarely see any cross-over but they go hand-in-hand in Ayurveda. After the prayer, I was given a foot bath and prepped for the massage table.

At the resort I got two treatments: a general body massage (which is essentially what it sounds like) and shirodhara. Shirodhara is a Sanskrit term that roughly translates to head (shiro) flow (dhara). During this treatment hot liquid, typically oil, is gently drizzled over the head in a rhythmic swing for an extended period of time. It is a therapy used to treat many ailments of the brain: migraines, insomnia, vertigo, paralysis, and anxiety. Ideally patients typically get several regular shirodhara treatments but, even though I only got the one, I completely recommend it.

I know that a lot of folk reading this will be pretty skeptical about whether Ayurveda is “real” or not. In the States, anything outside of modern western medicine is dubbed “alternative” and it is almost always seen as lesser-than. But just like modern western medicine, I learned in my Ayurveda class that Ayurveda has published research papers that support their traditional treatment. Also, Ayurveda doesn’t have as many problems with overdoses, addiction, etc. as western medicine. I’m not saying one is better than the other but, after learning and experiencing Ayurveda, I can say it is worth trying.

An Extra Early Alarm

That first sliver of sun emerging from behind the buildings reminds me of the way it feels when you’re holding a newborn baby in your arms.  You wonder how such a tiny human can even exist when suddenly an illuminating smile spreads across their precious little face.  It’s that awe-inspiring sense of hope that I am overwhelmed by every time I witness the sun rising.  There’s a certain promise that accompanies it.  “See,” says the sun, “I am here and I always will be.  Even on those gloomy days, I’m just behind the clouds waiting to meet you again.”

I appreciate this promise since sometimes we have so many dreary days in a row I begin to question if sunlight itself has permanently retired to some other part of the world.  I really can’t complain however, considering I’m still in an insanely cool city and my friends/family in Michigan are suffering through a spring snow.  Although a bit over-ambitious, a goal of mind this semester is to watch the sunrise once per week.  I decided to strive for this many because I speculate I am maximizing my chances of seeing the most impressive display of colors.  I’m waiting for the perfect cloud-to-sky ratio to dazzle me beyond belief.

Naturally, there are times I miss my weekly rendezvous with the sun.  There have also been a few unlucky mornings that one large meddlesome cloud looms exactly where I wish it wouldn’t and obstructs the view completely.  Even on the overcast days, I am glad to have forced myself to roll out of bed at such an anomalous hour.  I am given the opportunity to join the bustling swarm of people hurrying to work during morning rush hour.  Dark eye circles and heavy lids occupy the faces of every individual traveling by metro around 6:00AM.  Once the doors open, the half-asleep crowd pours onto the platform and wills itself towards the escalator as one unified entity.  Despite being separate and unrelated, each passerby seems to share the same objective . . . to live, to get by every day.  We may be complete strangers who speak different languages, but this is where our humanness communicates without words.

On a less existential note . . . the experience has some fun and simple aspects as well.  I truly feel like a local when I’m handed a newspaper with a warm “dobrý den” (meaning “hello” or “good day” in Czech).  My journey to the sunrise typically ends on the Charles Bridge.  It’s an ideal location for watching the sun come up over one side of the city and cast a serene glow upon the other.  Being there at this hour also provides the benefit of a substantially smaller number of tourists which cover every inch of the cobblestone on nice days.  Below you can see some of the stunning views I’ve captured from the bridge.  Stay tuned!

Click on the images to enlarge them.

Dow Trip

This is the first blog I’ve written that feels like an advertisement in a travel magazine or a television commercial for traveling to the Middle East. I felt like I was living a real life “Samantha Brown’s Passport to Oman” episode. When I was little, my mom would turn to the Travel Channel while we were dusting or sorting through papers together. Samantha Brown would flash her smile, crow’s feet flaring and hair blowing as she ventured through cities and towns pointing out incredible restaurants and historical castles. In my bedroom mirror, I would pretend I was the host of the show and make up adventures of my own: “Alley’s Passport to the World”! Today, I lived one of these real-life adventures. I snorkeled and swam with turtles, ventured out along the coast of Muscat on a dow (see photo above), and watched dolphins leap along the horizon. I felt like I was on the television screen in my living room…if only mom were with me.

We started piling onto the boat at 8:30am, slipped off our sandals and claimed our seats before the Dow set off into the waves. Our Program Director, Justin, and his family invited us as well as another missionary family visiting from Bangladesh. Including our student party of six, there were fifteen energetic explorers, three talented crew members, and one Captain Said on deck. Each one with cheeks fit to be sun-kissed. I claimed a cushion and started snapping pictures, bobbing with the waves and concentrating on staying upright.

Our boat
Muscat Marina
Before setting off

About an hour in, the captain slowed the engine down and I heard one of the kiddos shouting “Look! Dolphins! Dolphins! Loooook!”. I knew there was a possibility of a dolphin sighting, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. Nonetheless, there they were, a pod of about thirty dolphins hopping through, chatting on their way like a family on a road trip. As they disappeared from view, we spun our boat the opposite way and continued toward our swimming destination.

The usual Omani terrain of tall, rocky mountains loomed over every border of the harbor we pulled into. The sun reflected off the peaks and bounced back on the caps of the waves. Below the surface, collections of coral supported schools of fish and millions of other living creatures. The humans on board our boat, including myself were glistening with sweat due to the heat of the day. Thus, many of us immediately dove in as soon as the anchor was dropped.

Rocky horizon
View from the back of the boat

The water was a teal-green pigment with a flawless tepid temperature. I floated for a while, laughing with friends and squinting against the cloudless sky. As I moved my arms through the translucent sea, I didn’t realize that a creature was none too pleased to meet me. He left his mark on my lower left bicep and it tingled like a collection of static tickles on a fresh sheet out of the drier. The static soon turned into an irritating pierce on the surface of my skin. The invisible critter was a jellyfish and I had just been stung.

Back on the deck of the boat, the sting swelled in three spots leaving harsh, red ridges where the jelly’s appendages had swiped. The captain suggested I pour cold water on my arm and let it calm down. It did settle and only hurt for about ten more minutes. I sat on the shaded deck and soaked in more rays watching kids splash in the water and giggling as my friends plastered snorkeling goggles to their faces and dove in with flippers flapping on their feet behind them.

Explorers!
Cozy spot on deck

After chomping down a sandwich and some Oreos, I decided to give the water another shot. I grabbed my own set of flippers, a clear turquoise mask and bright yellow breathing tube and launched off the boat into the salty sea. I pumped through the waves, face flat in the water until I could find the reef. Always aware of the globs of jelly waiting, I hauled my body through the water until I found myself in the middle of a school of fish (the species of which I could not tell). Long, lanky eel-like critters mixed with blue and stripped, finned creatures and I witnessed their soiree silently from above.

Without fail, water would seep into my goggles causing me to come up for air. On one occasion, I was thankful for the break to breathe as a couple floating on a boat nearby shouted and pointed where they spotted a sea turtle. I followed their arm and dove to the deep. It took a bit of twisting and turning to find the shell, but there she was! A stunning turtle gliding along the bottom of the ocean floor. It didn’t take long before I was choking on salt water again. But, seeing her was all I needed before heading back to the boat.

More Dows parked in the Marina
Back of the dow
Scenery along the way

Around 2:30pm, we departed back through the water toward the marina where the boat would dock until its next adventure. The Dow rocked back and forth, and mist lathered our cheeks occasionally while we watched the horizon. The scenery was even more picturesque than the Travel Network would show it to be. I may have a scar from the jellyfish, and way too much salt water in my system, but I still felt I was part of a trailer for a new travel film. So, any room for a co-host Samantha Brown?