Random postings
Feb. 16th, 2009 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhI'm out of the hospital- for a while now, though they ended up keeping me there six days, mostly a result of the weekend (which is Thursday and Friday here, as in most Islamic countries, and not Saturday and Sunday, which is endlessly confusing and I can never remember what day of the week it is). On Wednesday the regular doctor said I could go home as soon as a culture was finished growing, which should have happened in a few hours. On Thursday the first weekend doctor said they would take another chest x-ray tomorrow, and then, depending what it would show, I could go home that day. On Friday the second weekend doctor said I could not go home until I finished the course of antibiotics, which- depending on who you asked- would happen in either two days or another week. On Saturday the regular doctor returned, and finally sent me away. But by then I had missed the trip to the beach to see sea turtles, though in truth I'm not sure I would have had the health for it, even if the hospital had released me earlier.
I'm still not allowed back in the field to dig, so I've been doing indoor work- filling out forms for other people, doing paperwork, filling endless sheets with pottery drawings (one of the most boring, numbing activities known to man, and which has made me tremendously glad that I packed my ipod with audiobooks before arriving in Oman). Also, luckily, I have a specialty that one can do without placing any stress on the lungs, so there's that to fill the time.
Despite all that, I'm feeling pretty healthy, though I still have a bit of a cough. Just a bit bored which, really, is why I'm writing this- there's internet available, and there's nothing I have to do which I can't do this afternoon instead, or tomorrow, or so on. It is generally very quiet here in the mornings; there's not much to make noise, except the occasional car going by on the road, a brief roar of engine, as the road here is a long, straight stretch without turn-offs or stop lights, and so the cars are going fast. The light is bright, golden, and the sky is high and vivid blue, streaked with long, thin clouds that seem somehow much further up than those I'm used to. The land here is flat, marked with abrupt ridges that run mostly east to west. They're bare and rocky, high enough to cut off the horizons. There's no grass, just gravel and pale brown dust coating the ground, and a scattering of trees or low bushes. The trees have small leaves, and strangely flat tops, and, when you're close to one, you see the long, white thorns all the branches are covered with. I think they're acacias, though I don't know enough to say for sure. Shaggy goats with small curled horns wander around, sometimes standing on hind legs to nibble the lowest branches of the trees. I suppose someone must own them, but they don't seem to be restricted or controlled in any way, so I perhaps they're feral. Camels, a bit more rarely, do the same, though they tend to be more obviously owned, standing inside of a fence, or wearing hobbles.
In the mornings, the sun comes up as we're driving to the site, appearing from behind one of the largest ridges in the area. The sky has lightened before the sun itself appears, turning orange or purple, and or often pink. Golden spears of light angle up from behind the ridge, like bad special effects in a religious movie, and then finally the sun appears, and everything begins to warm up quickly.
A few days ago, we had a barbecue for fun. We drove out to a terribly isolated site we knew of, far out in the desert and hidden from most wanderers, and preserved well enough for the foundations of houses and tombs to be visible right on the surface, after five thousand years. Driving back in the dark, through the mountains of Oman, we were blasting music, a new song that has quickly become everyone's favorite. It's in Serbian, which I don't speak at all, but have listened to the song enough times to shout the chorus, disco disco patazanya along with the others. The song was introduced to us by a Polish woman, and other people in the car were from India, Portugal, Bangladesh, America. I had one of those moments where you realize, as though from the outside, what it is you're doing, and I thought: my life is really cool.
I have just enough connection to the internet to realize there's a huge cultural appropriation/racism debate going on, but not enough connection to actually follow it. This makes me sad, because I know there's so many things being written and discussed that I want to read, I want to have new things to think about, new ways to look at the issue, new people's perspectives. I want to participate, maybe, but at the least just know more. Which is probably terribly selfish, but since I can't actual think about helpful things without knowing more of the discussion, this is what I think about.
I'm still not allowed back in the field to dig, so I've been doing indoor work- filling out forms for other people, doing paperwork, filling endless sheets with pottery drawings (one of the most boring, numbing activities known to man, and which has made me tremendously glad that I packed my ipod with audiobooks before arriving in Oman). Also, luckily, I have a specialty that one can do without placing any stress on the lungs, so there's that to fill the time.
Despite all that, I'm feeling pretty healthy, though I still have a bit of a cough. Just a bit bored which, really, is why I'm writing this- there's internet available, and there's nothing I have to do which I can't do this afternoon instead, or tomorrow, or so on. It is generally very quiet here in the mornings; there's not much to make noise, except the occasional car going by on the road, a brief roar of engine, as the road here is a long, straight stretch without turn-offs or stop lights, and so the cars are going fast. The light is bright, golden, and the sky is high and vivid blue, streaked with long, thin clouds that seem somehow much further up than those I'm used to. The land here is flat, marked with abrupt ridges that run mostly east to west. They're bare and rocky, high enough to cut off the horizons. There's no grass, just gravel and pale brown dust coating the ground, and a scattering of trees or low bushes. The trees have small leaves, and strangely flat tops, and, when you're close to one, you see the long, white thorns all the branches are covered with. I think they're acacias, though I don't know enough to say for sure. Shaggy goats with small curled horns wander around, sometimes standing on hind legs to nibble the lowest branches of the trees. I suppose someone must own them, but they don't seem to be restricted or controlled in any way, so I perhaps they're feral. Camels, a bit more rarely, do the same, though they tend to be more obviously owned, standing inside of a fence, or wearing hobbles.
In the mornings, the sun comes up as we're driving to the site, appearing from behind one of the largest ridges in the area. The sky has lightened before the sun itself appears, turning orange or purple, and or often pink. Golden spears of light angle up from behind the ridge, like bad special effects in a religious movie, and then finally the sun appears, and everything begins to warm up quickly.
A few days ago, we had a barbecue for fun. We drove out to a terribly isolated site we knew of, far out in the desert and hidden from most wanderers, and preserved well enough for the foundations of houses and tombs to be visible right on the surface, after five thousand years. Driving back in the dark, through the mountains of Oman, we were blasting music, a new song that has quickly become everyone's favorite. It's in Serbian, which I don't speak at all, but have listened to the song enough times to shout the chorus, disco disco patazanya along with the others. The song was introduced to us by a Polish woman, and other people in the car were from India, Portugal, Bangladesh, America. I had one of those moments where you realize, as though from the outside, what it is you're doing, and I thought: my life is really cool.
I have just enough connection to the internet to realize there's a huge cultural appropriation/racism debate going on, but not enough connection to actually follow it. This makes me sad, because I know there's so many things being written and discussed that I want to read, I want to have new things to think about, new ways to look at the issue, new people's perspectives. I want to participate, maybe, but at the least just know more. Which is probably terribly selfish, but since I can't actual think about helpful things without knowing more of the discussion, this is what I think about.
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no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 07:53 pm (UTC)