Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Recipe for culture shock

Start with a healthy dose of jet lag, add a foreign language, alphabet, and culture. Brew at 106 degrees for three days in complete isolation - no TV, no phone, no car, no internet, access only to a one-block walled compound. Season with PMS.

Stand clear of the explosion.

Everything is different - here's a short list:

  • Arabic letters are written from right to left but the numbers go left to right.
  • Light switches - on is down.
  • Electrical current is 220 v and the plugs for even locally bought items may not fit the wall sockets without an adapter.
  • Dawn is at 4:00 am; sunset is at 6:00 pm. You can not get up early enough to beat the heat - the lows are in the 90s and it's humid. Your only hope to be comfortable outside is the pool.
  • The sun is painful at midday. Even in the shade it's blinding. It feels like a hot direct sunshine at very high altitude, like on top of a mountain, except the brightness comes from everywhere because it reflects off every surface.
  • Even basic food items taste different - the beef and chicken are grass fed, not grain. Other items that don't have an American brand are generally Arab interpretations of the product. Even familiar American brands (which don't come cheap) taste somehow, vaguely different. Pork is outlawed.
  • A box of cereal costs $7.
  • The stores and malls are bustling at 9 pm on a weeknight - life here largely operates after dark.
  • Appliances don't work - so far we've had the washer, dryer, microwave, oven, and a cell phone break. The only things that have worked are the dishwasher, toaster, and coffee maker (God is merciful). They fixed the washer; losing the dryer hasn't been a problem because a clothes line on the roof patio is just as fast.
  • There is virtually no flora or fauna, except in gardens and homes. There are no weeds. There are no bugs (except a few itty bitty ants), no mice, no dogs. Once or twice a day I see a bird fly by; I've counted three cats. The wind has no leaves to rattle. The only sound is the hum of air conditioners. Our house has seven. That's not window units; each of those would equal the cumulative a/c power that we use in our Pittsburgh house.
I could really really use a beer right about now. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal, but... yeah. Oh well.