snippets

Just came back from the fruit market where a visiting artist on his way to Delhi wanted to pick up dates for his family as gifts. Mounds and mounds of dates from Oman, the Emirates and Saudi Arabia, in a vast array of colors, from the pale yellow of fresh dates still on the stem called balah, to the bright red balah and all the shades of glistening ruby browns, sat there promising us nutritious delight. I got to taste lots of samples…I’ll go back for the Saudi dates!

The night before last I went to a beach party on the furthest beach of the palms (the man-made islands in the shape of a palm). I went with a couple of friends from work and two artists who were visiting Sharjah in preparation for the Biennial. Me and the artists were super excited to see – what would a beach party in Dubai have in store for us? The music pounded, promising excitement, so we paid our overpriced fee to get in, bought our overpriced yet weak drinks, and settled in. The dance floor was on sand, which was probably my favorite part. Actually, I also loved that there were beds lined up on the beach for those shee-shee folks who reserved them. There were also big bean bags that you could drag around the beach and hang out on. Or if you wanted to buy bottles of alcohol and needed a flat surface, you could reserve a table with backless couches. The music was pumpin’, but it wasn’t quite jumpin. The first dj simply played songs all the way through. People liked him, though, cause he played all their favorites. The next dj was better, but not that much better. Thankfully I was tipsy by that point, and anyways, I love to dance, so I did. Not just your everyday kind of swaying back and forth dancing, but your jumping up and down cause you’re high on life and are happy to be dancing among others who are also happily grooving. The next day I was sore as hell, which always makes me happy.

I had a special moment walking down the street about a week ago – not sure what it was. Maybe the heat was tolerable? Maybe the air smelled sweet? Maybe people were giving off good vibes? I think it was all three. This surge of love bubbled up in my heart and I felt so very happy to be in Sharjah. I even thought to myself, “I love Sharjah!” I realized that though I’m not all that happy that nearly one month into my life here I’m still living in a hotel, I appreciate the fact that I live close enough to walk to work. I have my route – down Arabian Gulf Street towards the port, take a left to cross the street after the bakery, pass the bike shop and my shawerma spot (see my previous entry for my shawerma spot story), a right at the post office and then a left at the red sign that reads “Sharjah Art Foundation”. As I proceed along the length of the museum, I see two women who I see everyday when I walk to work – an Indian woman dressed in her long shalwar camis and another woman who is completely covered except for her eyes. I love how they love each other, which is apparent to me by the way they walk down the street together with ease, how they laugh, and how nothing around them seems to bother them.

Today on my way to work I saw a woman with her two children. The three of them were sitting on the ledge in front of the post office. With her knees crossed, she was talking to her son in a very authoritative yet loving tone. I could see that he loved learning things from his mom, and that she loved teaching him. I could see her personality, strong and able, a woman who gets things done. And the wondrous thing about it was that she too was covered from head to toe. Being here is teaching me a lot about people, culture, difference. Her individuality struck me, and despite being covered, she shined like a beacon.