Desert storms

Jan. 8

Thursday morning spawned a dust storm - it is winter here after all, and the past few days have been unseasonably warm (but thankfully so!).  At home, I hear there have been super cold temperatures and piles of snow, but here, up till now, it's been gorgeous, almost too hot to go outside on the upper level and tan (for me anyway).  But today, the wind has kicked up, the air is cooling off to a more seasonable 16 C, and with the wind, the dust and sand from the desert of which this island is made blows freely.  Even the Weather Network shows current conditions as simply "Dust".

The air is quite hazy, but we have planned to go out anyway to see a couple of the local sights - my friend's friend will drive us south into the desert to see the Tree of Life, the first oil well, and then when we return we will hopefully see the Fort or the Grand Mosque.  Timing will be the key, since Lisa has a client appointment later in the day, and we'd also like to have some lunch together.

But first stop, the Tree of Life.  Many cultures and countries make reference to a Tree of Life, this one is called that because it has been growing, seemingly miraculously, in the middle of the desert for over 400 years, with no apparent source of water.  We must park a fair distance from the tree and walk across the windy, dusty desert to get up close.  Although an iron fence at one time protected it from vandals, there appears to be no protection from anything right now, and I was able to touch it (for luck?) and marvel at the wonders of nature, to see green leaves in the midst of such an expanse of arid sand.

Nearby, they have put a very cool "human" sundial, so that if you step on the current month, your own shadow will point to the correct time (it's hardly accurate to the minute, unless you're Twiggy).  And yes, it was about 12:10 p.m. when this pic was taken:

As we drive back towards town, we pass by several oil wells, most of them quite a bit smaller than I envisioned, less than 2 stories tall in most cases.  They are, essentially "portable", since the smaller pockets can dry up within a couple of weeks, so the drills are then simply moved to a new location.  It's too windy and dusty to leave the car for very long, so I just quickly grab a couple of shots of drills and the pipes that carry the crude to the nearby refinery, as we stop briefly.

Closer to town, we see a delivery bike (food is delivered here by motorcycles with large boxes on the back, as they are more easily maneuvered through the constant traffic), and the wind is so strong that the driver must lean into the wind just to stay upright.

The sand blows across the road, just like the snow does here in Canada.

 Traffic is horrendous, since it's almost the weekend (work weeks here are Sunday - Thursday), so we opt to do the Grand Mosque today, and leave the Fort till tomorrow.  I am forced to admit I remember little of what I had learned in high school about the Muslim faith, and feel inadequately knowledgeable about the current state of affairs in this area of the world.  Fortunately, my hostess and friend has been living in the Middle East for the past few years, and is able to guide me toward keeping a neutral tone.  Our tour guide, while knowledgeable, seems intent on not just providing information about the Mosque itself, but also about the Muslim faith.

It seems only fair to listen, since they have provided a "loaner" abiyah and hijab (gown and head covering) so that we can enter the temple.  No women are allowed to enter without covering, and it feels odd in some ways and familiar in others.  I recall as a child in the Mennonite church, that women were expected to wear "head coverings" to church, which were really just small caps made from a thin mesh and bobby-pinned to the hair.  Symbolic at best, but the similarities between Muslim and Mennonite symbolism and a loose interpretation of the culture kept revealing themselves.

The Mosque itself is huge, and beautiful without being grandiose.  The chandelier in the great temple is made from Austrian crystal, and the marble floors are mostly provided by Italy.  While Daya and I tour the Mosque, Lisa (a Muslim) makes a run to the liquor store.  Somewhat ironic....