<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:07:41.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arabian Nights... Like Arabian Days...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-7125723269472760811</id><published>2009-06-27T05:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T05:29:18.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>http://newsinfo.iu.edu/web/page/normal/10594.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-7125723269472760811?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/7125723269472760811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/06/httpnewsinfo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/7125723269472760811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/7125723269472760811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/06/httpnewsinfo.html' title=''/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-2639711784938530262</id><published>2009-05-10T23:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:18:19.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's no place like HOME!</title><content type='html'>I'm finally home! Its 2:30 am in Indiana, except my body is on Dubai time, insists that its actually 10:30 am and, despite the fact that I haven't slept more than two consecutive hours in going on three days, is very much awake. I've been mulling over the past four and a half months and have really mixed feelings. I had a good and memorable experience in Dubai, but if I had it all to do over again, I don't think I would choose to go there. Then again, hindsight is 20/200, or however the saying goes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I will miss about Dubai: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really cheap bottled water, the opportunity to travel a lot (despite the fact that it was brought about by my lack of a proper visa), never having to do work because my classes were harder in high school, cleaning ladies (even though I now know they clean the bathroom floor with the butt hose), the friends I made, pita bread from the Unimart, the AUD night guards, seeing ridiculous cars and even more ridiculous driving, playing the license plate game, the beach, looking at the Burj al-Arab from the beach, concerts outside my window&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I will NOT miss about Dubai:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- squat toilets, taking cabs EVERYWHERE, dust storms, eating out for every meal, living in a dorm (and by that i mean walled-in, fully guarded, gender separate dorm compound), $8 beers and $12 cocktails, government and university blocked web pages, living in a neighborhood called Internet City and still getting internet that makes dial-up look speedy, having to explain to foreigners why I did not vote for Barack Obama, the stares of creepy migrant workers, being hit on by creepy foreign men, foreign ATM fees, pretending I'm not Jewish, the extreme inefficiency and illogicality of absolutely everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things about which I am excited to come home: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my own bed, driving, fast internet, my dog, my family, my friends, my 21st birthday, cooking my own food, food in general, TV, house parties, overall efficiency, a bath, intellectual people, clean public toilets, america in general....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to write about Egypt, Jordan, and my two trips to Israel (one in March, when I went to Jordan, and the one with my mom from which I just returned). After that, this blog will be done. I'm still surprised anyone has continued to read this, but I hope you've enjoyed. No promises on when said blog entries will be up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels good to be back. I feel so so so so so lucky to have been able to travel and learn and see and do all that I have done these past months, but there really is no place like home, and more than that, no place like the USA. John Updike claimed that, "America is a vast conspiracy to make you happy." Its working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-2639711784938530262?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2639711784938530262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/05/theres-no-place-like-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2639711784938530262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2639711784938530262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/05/theres-no-place-like-home.html' title='There&apos;s no place like HOME!'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-2498793493732572328</id><published>2009-04-25T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T15:38:04.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>uh oh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Torture Tape Implicates UAE Royal Sheikh"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; video showing son of the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi beating the hell out of a grain dealer over $5,000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; http://abcnews.go.com/Blotter/story?id=7402099&amp;amp;page=1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Story on Indentured Servitude in Dubai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; aka Dusties...&lt;/span&gt;: http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=2688465&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm... Sheikh Khalifa... you got some 'splainin to do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-2498793493732572328?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2498793493732572328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/uh-oh_25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2498793493732572328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2498793493732572328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/uh-oh_25.html' title='uh oh...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-3708005151557619265</id><published>2009-04-17T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T08:29:13.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Officially...&lt;br /&gt;Last day in Dubai: April 27&lt;br /&gt;Egypt: April 27-May 2&lt;br /&gt;Israel: May 2-10&lt;br /&gt;Home: May 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) :) :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-3708005151557619265?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3708005151557619265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/officially.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3708005151557619265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3708005151557619265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/officially.html' title=''/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-5293566754814954568</id><published>2009-04-10T20:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:14:10.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAAAAT?!?!?!!?</title><content type='html'>There are good days, there are bad days and there are days when I wonder what the hell I'm trying to do with my life and why I ever chose to come to the pit that is the Middle East. Today is one of those days:&lt;a href="http://archive.gulfnews.com/articles/09/01/05/10273495.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://archive.gulfnews.com/articles/09/01/05/10273495.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-5293566754814954568?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/5293566754814954568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/whaaaat.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5293566754814954568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5293566754814954568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/whaaaat.html' title='WHAAAAT?!?!?!!?'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-5101940251168222737</id><published>2009-04-10T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T19:30:13.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little Analysis Paralysis to go with my morning coffee...</title><content type='html'>The following is my assignment for a term paper in History of the Middle East in the 20th Century...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Term Paper # 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;MEST 315 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Term Paper #2                                                  31.3.2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Essay Topic: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fnt0"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;“The creation of the State of Israel in 1948 may have been the result of Hitler’s attempt to destroy the Jews of Europe… or the result of the Palestinians’ failure to forge a state of their own…or…”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Discuss the events and processes that led to the establishment of a ‘Jewish national home’ in British-mandate Palestine on May 14&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; 1948.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;circa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;2000 words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...and that's IT. Firstly, I take issue with the prompt. From where does this quotation come (and what the hell kind of guideline for a 2,000 word paper is this)? Very un-scholarly, though this aspect of the educational system here has ceased to surprise or amuse me. Beyond that, however, I'll also note that the phrase, "Hitler's attempt to destroy the Jews of Europe" is the closest this professor has ever come to using the word "Holocaust". Then again, based on a recent Politics lecture, I guess no one would know what he meant by it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like the prompt is all but inviting students to write about how the Jews stole the land from the Palestinian Arabs before they could "forge a state of their own", with countless opportunities to write misrepresentations and falsities about Israel, beginning with the inception of Zionism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we discussed Zionism in class, I brought up the fact that Zionism did not emerge as a quest to retake the Holy Land for the Jews, but rather as a political ideology supporting the creation of a Jewish homeland. Herzl, whom we view today as the founder of modern Zionism, didn't care a fraction of as much about WHERE this homeland existed, so long as it came to fruition and provided a place of refuge for Jews, who were being persecuted and discriminated against throughout the world, despite their efforts in assimilation. There were proposed Jewish states in Uganda, Argentina and, obviously, the NEVER-ESTABLISHED-AS-A-STATE land of Palestine. Palestine made the most sense, and negotiations brokering support for a Jewish homeland here commenced. There had always been a Jewish presence in the land, and Jewish heritage and history trace back to the land of Israel from long before the Prophet Mohammad was even a speck on the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did my Oxford-educated professor say outright that he didn't "buy" the Uganda argument, he actually went on to say that there wasn't any scholarly research on the topic. An Arab student then chimed in to relate my statements about the founding philosophies of Zionism to the "genocide" Jews (not Israelis-- Jews. All Jews) are commiting against Palestinians now. Amazing how he was able to make such a jump, as that was nowhere remotely close to the topic on which I was speaking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point in all of this is that my professor, an intelligent man for sure, made a completely irresponsible move in setting this assignment. When tackling such a sensitive and controversial topic--especially in an academic setting, especially in the Middle East, especially in a class of students whose ideas about the Israeli-Arab conflict are so tempered by emotion, miseducation and closed-mindedness, and whose overall education is sub-standard at best--the professor should have AT LEAST had the sense to set more rigid assignment guidelines rather than, for all practical purposes, invite these students to rehash the same mistruths and biases with which they've grown up under the heading of scholarly work. Its a shame that this professor, who has before him the opportunity to engage his class in a fact-based, unbiased writing assignment, has chosen the low road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I have yet to begin this paper, and I'm debating how to go about it, and what effect the position I take may or may not have on my grade... Then again, I'm pretty sure the fact I can string together more than five consecutive English words will ensure my passing no matter what. I'd love to get my hands on this stack of papers and see the craziness people will turn in (though pigs will fly before that happens). Eh... I'll let you know how this one goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-5101940251168222737?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/5101940251168222737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/following-is-my-assignment-for-term.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5101940251168222737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5101940251168222737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/following-is-my-assignment-for-term.html' title='A little Analysis Paralysis to go with my morning coffee...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-3983979262362086995</id><published>2009-04-08T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:33:41.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is this Night Different from all Other Nights?</title><content type='html'>Tonight is the first Passover Seder, and while my family gathers around the table and retells the story of our deliverance from slavery, I'll be slaving away in the library writing a paper about Islam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not one to delve into the spiritual side of religion. I prefer to view it more as a buffet than a set menu, and when it comes to religious practice and observance, I'm kind of a picky eater. Every Passover since I can remember I've been more apt to whine about having to eat matzah and be the designated Hebrew reader than anything else. The meaning of the holiday was obscured by my annoyance with it's restrictions. Truth be told, its my least favorite holiday. Somehow though, this year, being in Dubai without the option to observe it, I'm actually missing the cardboard-esque sheets of matzah, our homemade Haggadot with their specks of crusted-on Charoset from Seders past, dry Manischewitz box-mix cakes in tiny tin pans, and my little brother's annual refusal to complete the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mah Nishtanah&lt;/span&gt; and his subsequent ill-mannered table behavior more than I ever thought I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure I'd have to make my own dough, run away before it had time to rise and let it bake in the desert sun like the original version if I wanted to have any matzah at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm a little bit at a loss. I've got questions running through my head about what this all means and to what extent I'm damning myself to the firey depths of JewHell... My dad, the kind of Jew whose idea of religious practice is eating corned beef on marble rye (until recently, it seems), always made it clear that no matter what kind of Jew you may or may not be, you at least have to observe Pesach, Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur. I'd have to agree. I think the closest I'll be able to get to observing Pesach this year is going to be writing this blog entry and hopefully Skyping in to my family's Seder in Maryland later tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not fretting over the "bad Jew" thing. I'm not really one to do that (though I did feel badly about accidentally eating shrimp in Bahrain...). Its more that it just feels uncomfortable. It feels wrong. Dispite my griping, I've observed Passover every year of my life, so the lack of it this year cannot simply go unnoticed. I've not written before about being Jewish in this blog, nor do I talk about it here outside the group of American study abroads with whom I spend my time. Supressing something that is so much a part of me has felt odd from the get go, but I knew it would, and I knew it would be something I'd do since before I came here. Still, now, at Passover, hiding this part of me stings a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I start drawing parallels between the holiday and my own situation. Self-centered? Yeah, a little. The theme of Passover is freedom. In the case of the Jews in Egypt, the definition is pretty clear. In the case of the Jew in Dubai, what is the definition? Who would stop me if I chose to paint a Star of David on my forehead and walk around town? No one (or at least I'm pretty sure I could get away with it for a little while...). But does freedom always have to do with force? Just because I&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; could &lt;/span&gt;do it, does it mean I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;free &lt;/span&gt;to do it? And if so, then what's stopping me? What would happen if I did it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple months ago I decided to do a litmus test on an Arab student here (a Syrian) with whom I'd become friends. We were talking one-on-one and the topic of Israel came up. He made a comment that though he did not acknowledge Israel's right to exist, he did differentiate between Israelis and Jews, and had no problem with the latter. While to western ears this still sounds harsh, its actually a very forward-thinking statement for someone of his background. Just this week in one of my classes another Arab student who loves to say things like "The Jews are our enemy, we will never negotiate with them" also raised his hand to ask what the Holocaust was, because he'd never heard of it. That's another story entirely, but back to this one: After feeling comfortable about this kid telling me of his tolerance of Jews, and hearing him say that he had had Jewish friends, I decided to cautiously drop the J-bomb: Silence. Then, "Cool." Then more silence. Then, "Well, this is a stupid topic. Let's talk about something else." The next thing I know, his Saudi Arabian buddy is drunkenly saying, "Shabbat Shalom" to me that same weekend. I pretended to have no idea what he was saying, but the fact that the first thing my little Arab test dummy did with my classified information was spread it didn't put me at ease. I've since adopted a vow of silence on the matter when it comes to the locals, and also in speaking up in class when students or professors proport total inaccuracies about Jews, Israel or the Zionist lobby that supposedly controls America in class (this decision came about from another incident in my History class). This silence is not something that comes easily or for which I have ever been known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, while I may not be bound in chains, forced to make bricks or sacrifice the male children of my people, I feel like my freedom has, in a way, been stripped from me. Though the temporary nature and fact that I have people with whom to share my secret makes said non-freedom much easier to stomach. Still, most days I feel like I'm in the witness protection program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To wrap it up, dispite the fact that I'll not be able to sit around my grandmother's table and retell the story of my ancestors' freedom as if it were my own, and dispite the fact that I will not have a kosher Pesach by any means, I think that the absence of Pesach from this Pesach, for me, will bring home a point I've failed to grasp for the last twenty years. At the end of the Seder we say "This year we are slaves. Next year, may we be a free people in Jerusalem." Since I have no Seder at which to recite such a verse, and I don't consider myself a slave by any means-- I did CHOOSE to be here, the closing to my internal Seder will be a little different:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I am not free to express myself as a Jew. Next year, may I fully appreciate my freedom to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I am not free, next year I will be. May I please not screw up the meaning of this holiday then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;בשנה הבא בירושלים&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love and miss you all, and will be thinking of you lots this week, as the Yenta in the back of my head berates me for every bite of Chametz I eat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-3983979262362086995?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3983979262362086995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-is-this-night-different-from-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3983979262362086995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3983979262362086995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-is-this-night-different-from-all.html' title='Why is this Night Different from all Other Nights?'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-2976840170075791041</id><published>2009-04-08T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T10:21:01.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-2976840170075791041?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2976840170075791041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/bahrain_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2976840170075791041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2976840170075791041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/bahrain_08.html' title=''/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-629634960517181536</id><published>2009-04-05T08:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T02:37:35.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bahrain</title><content type='html'>I spent the first weekend of April in Bahrain, a tiny Island country (well, actually an archipelago of 33 islands, but still tiny) in the Gulf. Bahrain is pretty, and that's about it. There is (was?) a pearl industry there, and of course they have that whole oil thing going for them, but as far as real historical significance or political import, Bahrain is kind of lacking (though they LOVE the USA. The US Navy's 5th fleet is stationed there). Which is fine by me! The weekend was a lay on the beach, nap your cares away, vacation vacation, and much needed, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did little more than relax in the sun (when it was sunny...), read, eat, drink and sleep. It was much needed, much enjoyed. I went with five other girls from my program and came back with a tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did make it out of the hotel long enough to go to the Al-Areen Nature Reserve, in the middle of the desert. It was basically a zoo, but i got to see PORCUPINES!!!! They were deceivingly cuddly looking. None of the animals were in real cages, just little pens, so I guess I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; have found out whether or not they were cuddly, but then I had a flashback to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Homeward Bound &lt;/span&gt;and moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDY_P3aI/AAAAAAAAAHs/7vwMcW6uZcM/s1600-h/IMG_0296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDY_P3aI/AAAAAAAAAHs/7vwMcW6uZcM/s200/IMG_0296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325591280008289698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDG88x0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/HVXRe3T_nYg/s1600-h/IMG_0294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDG88x0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/HVXRe3T_nYg/s200/IMG_0294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325591275166811970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also made it out to clubs a couple nights. The night life in Bahrain is surprisingly bumpin'. It is just north of Saudi Arabia, with a bridge connecting the two. Bahrain is, obviously, much more liberal than Saudi, so Saudis flock here on the weekends to engage in activities their country does not allow-- like drinking, fun and womens' rights. Apparently Bahrain is also the gay capital of the Middle East, and we saw tons of trannys walking around. We also saw a FIGHT! I was driving home from a restaurant with the girls and two cars in front of us pulled over on to the sidewalk. People got out of them and proceeded to beat the crap out of eachother, blocking in our car. Not scary AT ALL. Gotta love the Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDjuwICI/AAAAAAAAAIE/nc-dxoiyIfk/s1600-h/n15934344_41840798_2449498.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDjuwICI/AAAAAAAAAIE/nc-dxoiyIfk/s200/n15934344_41840798_2449498.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325591282891890722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDgI606I/AAAAAAAAAH8/5IiS2px265s/s1600-h/n15934344_41840758_5327980.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDgI606I/AAAAAAAAAH8/5IiS2px265s/s200/n15934344_41840758_5327980.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325591281927902114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDkEqtqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/jO_DFONrirs/s1600-h/IMG_0298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDkEqtqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/jO_DFONrirs/s200/IMG_0298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325591282983810722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left to Right: The pool at our hotel (the round thing is the back of the swim up bar :) ), the Bahrain Pearl Roundabout (the Middle East LOVES roundabouts. This one is Bahrain's most famous... wooo), a camel (in case this was not obvious)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-629634960517181536?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/629634960517181536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/bahrain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/629634960517181536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/629634960517181536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/bahrain.html' title='Bahrain'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SehNDY_P3aI/AAAAAAAAAHs/7vwMcW6uZcM/s72-c/IMG_0296.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-1496308736875165173</id><published>2009-04-05T08:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T08:39:51.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break trip to Jordan</title><content type='html'>Coming soon.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-1496308736875165173?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1496308736875165173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-break-trip-to-jordan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1496308736875165173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1496308736875165173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-break-trip-to-jordan.html' title='Spring Break trip to Jordan'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-7503969591457075262</id><published>2009-03-21T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T06:17:49.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Constantinople</title><content type='html'>Yet again I feel I should apologize for the lag time between updates, but then I feel like I should also apologize for starting every entry with an apology... a conflicting situation. This time, as a means of averting the need for said apologies, I'll not make any promises about updating more often. We'll just have to see what happens. Also, its sandstorming outside, so my beach plans were thwarted... might as well update the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayyy.... Istanbul. Incredible. Just a forewarning, this entry is going to be really long. The whole thing came together at basically the last minute. It was time for another border run and my friend Kacey and I, after lusting over images and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lonely Planet &lt;/span&gt;descriptions of Istanbul,  decided we were just going to do it-- after all, when will we have the opportunity to jump on a plane (for decently cheap) and gallivant foreign lands after this semester?  Just after booking my flight Emmah, a friend from IU whom I had not seen since she left for France in August, skyped me trying, as usual, to convince me to meet her in Paris or Morocco or somewhere like that when I told her about my Istanbul plans. She, to my intense excitement, ended up booking a flight to Turkey as well! Being with two fellow history nerds in arguably one of the most historically significant and interesting cities in the world was something of a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a "brief stay" (aka one hour layover) in Qatar, I was finally in Istanbul, where Kacey and I met Emmah at the airport and headed for our accommodations. For being a budget hotel, the place was actually really nice, and in an AMAZING location, had we any sense of direction. We were walking distance from essentially everything we came to see, but still managed to take the scenic route everywhere, walking in infinite circles and encountering interesting characters at every turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That same night we decided to go native at the Turkish Baths. Again, we started off walking from probably less than a kilometer away but ended up so lost (in the rain and cold, might I add) that we ended up getting in a taxi, just to find the place. This was a big mistake. We got in the cab and started driving what felt like way too far away. After crossing the bridge that took us to the other side of Istanbul (aka EUROPE!) we realized that something was wrong. Oh, and this driver was definitely using a GPS, too. He said he'd lived in Istanbul all his life, but somehow I'm still not convinced. After finally convincing him we were on the wrong continent and he should turn around, he rear ended a van, resulting in what I can only assume was a heated five minute argument in rapid Turkish (in the middle of the busy road), followed by kissing, hugging and both drivers returning to their vehicles and cruising away. After a little more looping around, we were basically back where we started, and supposedly at the fabled Hamam (at this point its existence was in question, at least to me). After asking directions again we finally found it (our ever-capable driver had dropped us off a few blocks away) and embarked on our cross cultural adventure into the infamous bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the Cemberlitas Hamam, which was built in 1584 by the famous Ottoman architect Sinan and is still used today. Talk about cultural differences-- maybe Americans are prudes (or I'm a prude), but I really cannot see anything like this flying back in the States. You walk in, strip down, wrap yourself in a thin sheet, which you promptly remove when you enter the bath, which is a huge, round, stone room with a domed ceiling that is kept hot, much like a wet sauna. In said room there are women of all shapes and sizes everywhere, laying stark naked like beached whales on an expanse of stone slab soaking in the heat and moisture. Old women, young women, children; levels of physical fitness and amounts of body hair from all across the spectrum. After laying in the heat for a while, one of said old topless women, a bath attendant (their work uniforms and birthday suits are one in the same), approaches you asking whether you'd like a massage. Another cultural difference-- in Turkey, a massage is not what we in America think of as a massage-- lotion, relaxing music and someone working out your knots. The Turkish massage is a large Turkish woman scrubbing your exposed naked body with water and soap and a scrubby mitt, covering you in bubbles and rinsing you off. This occurs in the same room described before, in front of all the other bathers. Definitely not what I was expecting, nor what I signed up for, but my skin did feel really smooth afterward and to be honest, I'd do it again given the opportunity. When in Rome (or Istanbul, rather...)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refreshed, so to speak, from our adventures in the Hamam the night before, we headed out to the Hagia Sophia, one of the major sites in Istanbul. Also known as the Church of the Holy Wisdom, it was built as a church in the 530's by Justinian during the Byzantine period and was the largest cathedral in the world for nearly 1000 years. It was converted into a mosque by the Ottomans in 1453. It is absolutely, completely, breathtakingly, insanely beautiful. It was so interesting, as well, to see images of the Virgin and Child and other Christian icons among Islamic calligraphy and pulpiture (I invented this word). There are also gorgeous gold and ceramic mosaics inside the church. The main dome of the Hagia Sophia is breathtakingly huge. I read that the Ottomans sought to rebuild a mosque with the same size dome, but it failed, so they converted the church to a mosque instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VDnXQ7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/B1A91Qfwu8A/s1600-h/IMG_0289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VDnXQ7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/B1A91Qfwu8A/s200/IMG_0289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318246845835068338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VTmWBAI/AAAAAAAAAEU/vj3oILXu-ww/s1600-h/IMG_0297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VTmWBAI/AAAAAAAAAEU/vj3oILXu-ww/s200/IMG_0297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318246850125759490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41U1AzyjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/1tduo7YUxzs/s1600-h/IMG_0308.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41U1AzyjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/1tduo7YUxzs/s200/IMG_0308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318246841915263538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VX3ylWI/AAAAAAAAAEc/X_yUtZCpDrw/s1600-h/IMG_0318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VX3ylWI/AAAAAAAAAEc/X_yUtZCpDrw/s200/IMG_0318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318246851272676706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41UlU3ohI/AAAAAAAAAD8/U-wTHck0G2k/s1600-h/IMG_0315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41UlU3ohI/AAAAAAAAAD8/U-wTHck0G2k/s200/IMG_0315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318246837704434194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Hagia Sophia we walked across the street to the Basilica Cistern, or rather on top of it. It was built in the 6th century by Justinian I and is the largest of some several hundred cisterns that lie beneath Istanbul. If you've ever seen the James Bond movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From Russia with Love&lt;/span&gt; (I have not), its in there. It stored the water for various palaces in Istanbul throughout the reign of the Ottoman Empire. Today it is empty and just used as a tourist attraction (seeing as we have more advanced methods of storing water...), but is incredible to see. The columns and work in this place are astounding. There is still some water along the bottom, with (of course) huge and disgusting fish swimming in it. There are two columns in the back which have Medusa heads on the base. No one really knows why, or why they are placed upside-down and sideways, but they are believed to have come from an earlier Roman building. There's also a cafe in the cistern (really cute) and a stage on which they have concerts during the summer. Very very cool! The cistern is surrounded by 13 foot thick firebrick walls and is 470x210 feet. It can hold 2,800,000 cubic feet of water and is entirely underground. It is filled with 336 marble columns that are each 30 feet high-- thank you Wikipedia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tCelKFiI/AAAAAAAAADc/ZvCsi1ZCYZk/s1600-h/IMG_0337.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tCelKFiI/AAAAAAAAADc/ZvCsi1ZCYZk/s200/IMG_0337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318237730563036706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tDfOd-8I/AAAAAAAAADk/o7LUL45pCrM/s1600-h/IMG_0337.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tDfOd-8I/AAAAAAAAADk/o7LUL45pCrM/s200/IMG_0337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318237747916176322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tDiazgdI/AAAAAAAAADs/B3f8891bDh8/s1600-h/IMG_0347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tDiazgdI/AAAAAAAAADs/B3f8891bDh8/s200/IMG_0347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318237748773224914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tEIRQ5KI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9l2e2tNjk0w/s1600-h/IMG_0349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc4tEIRQ5KI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9l2e2tNjk0w/s200/IMG_0349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318237758933755042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up on our agenda was the Blue Mosque, named for the blue tiles that adorn the inside of the mosque. It is the national mosque of Turkey and was built by Sultan Ahmed I in 1609. It is huge-- and by huge I mean has the capacity to hold 10,000 worshipers, and like many Islamic houses of worship, is insanely gorgeous. Check it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0eYVhJyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/JC0ey_bW1bI/s1600-h/IMG_0363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0eYVhJyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/JC0ey_bW1bI/s200/IMG_0363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318879225202157346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0dvRPETI/AAAAAAAAAEs/nEMtfCWN_8M/s1600-h/IMG_0361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0dvRPETI/AAAAAAAAAEs/nEMtfCWN_8M/s200/IMG_0361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318879214178341170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0dz_zSDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/B_tTomYhHw4/s1600-h/IMG_0362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0dz_zSDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/B_tTomYhHw4/s200/IMG_0362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318879215447394354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0c0pHIrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/iLFnX-7imdI/s1600-h/IMG_0358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdB0c0pHIrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/iLFnX-7imdI/s200/IMG_0358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318879198440792754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the mosque we headed back to the hotel, where we decided we needed to get massages, since we hadn't received the kind we'd expected at the Turkish baths, and after all, we were on vacation. It was a real massage, but again we were encountered with the cultural differences revolving around nudity. They're not so big in Turkey on covering you with a sheet during a massage or avoiding massaging more...uh... personal areas of the body, they way they do in the States. Not to mention our masseur, Mehmet, kept talking to people who'd wander in and out of the massage "room" (a table in a large room, partitioned off by cloth dividers).  We also did mud masks and roasted in the sauna. Despite being a departure from the expected (aka American), it was still enjoyable, and a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next adventure was Sultana's-- a dinner show we booked through the concierge desk of the hotel. A bus picked us up and took us to Europe (I feel so cool saying that) for an evening of traditional Turkish foods ("like chicken, meat and vegetables", as the travel agent described it to us) and entertainment, which included belly dancers, traditional Turkish dance, an old man playing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Heart will Go On &lt;/span&gt;on a keyboard and some really ridiculous and really entertaining puppet dancers. I don't know how to explain them, so I've uploaded a video instead. It was two men dancing, the faces of the puppets are their stomachs and their arms are in the hats.  Truly amazing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e982864093d672e8" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De982864093d672e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA6127FBF7F9C39AFC16AB6FDDE96F78C4906155.21F7730D9CFC5E8A35ADFCA600FA0EF92B71582F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De982864093d672e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DImz2wSjLMBoa_M-kzLjwlkgzpLI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De982864093d672e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA6127FBF7F9C39AFC16AB6FDDE96F78C4906155.21F7730D9CFC5E8A35ADFCA600FA0EF92B71582F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De982864093d672e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DImz2wSjLMBoa_M-kzLjwlkgzpLI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, we started off at Topkapi Palace, which served as the residence of the Ottoman Sultans, as well as the center of Ottoman administration for some 380 years. It was built in 1478 by Mehmet the Conqueror and was expanded by numerous Sultans over the centuries (I just wrote a paper on this...), so it looks different than most palaces, as it is made up of a number of separate structures, most two stories or shorter, and was built over the course of three centuries and remodeled multiple times. The coolest part of the palace was the treasury, which held insane Ottoman treasures, like an 86 karat diamond and really ridiculous crowns and thrones and knives. Of course, photography was prohibited in the treasury, so, sadly, I have no pictures of the goods to post. A definite best part of Topkapi palace was the Harem, which was huge and incredibly ornate, with huge domes, tons of stained glass, mosaic tiles and gorgeous wood and metalwork. The middle two pictures below are from the Harem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUJF-YEI/AAAAAAAAAFE/K1SmGMwKvUc/s1600-h/IMG_0384.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUJF-YEI/AAAAAAAAAFE/K1SmGMwKvUc/s200/IMG_0384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318931825869873218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUVuLcsI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Cb6Djqd9tJo/s1600-h/IMG_0386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUVuLcsI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Cb6Djqd9tJo/s200/IMG_0386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318931829259727554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkU914kkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/j9ZpkG57taw/s1600-h/IMG_0444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkU914kkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/j9ZpkG57taw/s200/IMG_0444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318931840029463106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkVAB_oxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/_Bs8hvLszrY/s1600-h/IMG_0445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkVAB_oxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/_Bs8hvLszrY/s200/IMG_0445.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318931840617128722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUssJ78I/AAAAAAAAAFU/AbF34tr3n7s/s1600-h/IMG_0400.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCkUssJ78I/AAAAAAAAAFU/AbF34tr3n7s/s200/IMG_0400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318931835425255362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the grounds of the palace is also an archaeological museum. There were lots and lots of great sculptures, bones, etc., but I forgot all about them when I found the coolest thing ever ever ever ever....&lt;br /&gt;A LIFESIZE REPLICA OF A TROJAN HORSE... THAT WE CLIMBED INSIDE!!! (though I'm not sure we were supposed to...)&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am aware that I'm a five-year-old. I'm okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;CHECK IT OUT::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuSexIg7I/AAAAAAAAAFs/-XKOnNoVPCo/s1600-h/trojanhorse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuSexIg7I/AAAAAAAAAFs/-XKOnNoVPCo/s200/trojanhorse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318942792444576690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuS8JcnSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/a4DMEkRPAmU/s1600-h/IMG_0468.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuS8JcnSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/a4DMEkRPAmU/s200/IMG_0468.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318942800331185442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! soooo great!&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure we were supposed to go inside, but no one was there to tell us not to, and the sign by it was completely in Turkish, so that was clearance enough for me. After climbing the ladder, chaos and immaturity ensued:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuTbsFCsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-m0YxL9CDOM/s1600-h/IMG_0479.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuTbsFCsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-m0YxL9CDOM/s200/IMG_0479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318942808797940418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and continued...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuUGlACuI/AAAAAAAAAGM/IgSyYzGUPnQ/s1600-h/buttsnatch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuUGlACuI/AAAAAAAAAGM/IgSyYzGUPnQ/s200/buttsnatch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318942820310977250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in all seriousness, there were some really amazing pieces in the museum. Below is the facade of a high relief sarcauphogus from the THIRD century!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuTt7ExpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FMHh5n-uBBY/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdCuTt7ExpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FMHh5n-uBBY/s200/IMG_0461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318942813692675730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is quickly becoming an insanely long entry, and if you're still reading, I apologize for my tendency to be long winded. I'll try to get this show on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way back from the museum we passed by one of the "interesting characters" I'd mentioned earlier-- a man standing on the street with a cart, a rooster and a bunny. The rooster, we learned, was actually not a rooster, but a fortune teller. Intrigued, we had our fortunes told.  Basically, the old man had a tray of folded slips of paper, of which the rooster pecked one with his beak, the old man gave to the bunny to sniff, and then handed to you as your fortune. I actually really liked mine. It said something about making a lot of money, taking a much needed vacation and reuniting with old friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC7hIHrY7I/AAAAAAAAAGU/CU7Tg2fiaNw/s1600-h/IMG_0490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC7hIHrY7I/AAAAAAAAAGU/CU7Tg2fiaNw/s200/IMG_0490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318957337714320306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we went to see Whirling Dervishes. AMAAAAZING! The ceremony was in the train station from where the Orient Express departed (over which I geeked out to the point of no return).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC8RfN9MjI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xwRxaDjYdDs/s1600-h/IMG_0495.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC8RfN9MjI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xwRxaDjYdDs/s200/IMG_0495.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318958168548389426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC8RkBiojI/AAAAAAAAAGk/YpNCA1G7FWs/s1600-h/IMG_0500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC8RkBiojI/AAAAAAAAAGk/YpNCA1G7FWs/s200/IMG_0500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318958169838494258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-f58e838ecfd01cac" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df58e838ecfd01cac%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D306458CC0102C7933F924D0AB7DE430354B9265E.7899845F163F66935BA6D8275FFC7E579478CF26%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df58e838ecfd01cac%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBkOjv0g7G0dyavI0cvyDrZ1NEXI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df58e838ecfd01cac%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D306458CC0102C7933F924D0AB7DE430354B9265E.7899845F163F66935BA6D8275FFC7E579478CF26%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df58e838ecfd01cac%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBkOjv0g7G0dyavI0cvyDrZ1NEXI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the whirlers, we had dinner at a rooftop restaurant overlooking Istanbul and the Bosporous before going out for shisha and meeting more of said interesting characters. Its probably best to just leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our next and final day in Istanbul we went to the Grand Bazaar in the morning, which is really more or less like any other Middle Eastern souk, except the Wal-Mart version. Not in the sense that everything is generic or cheaper, but moreso because it is so MASSIVE. I probably spent way more money than I should have on who knows what, but it was fun to haggle and shop. The vendors in the bazaar seem to know every language under the sun, and use them to try to attract customers. The dictionary definition of a tourist trap. Vendors look at you, guess your ethnicity and then speak to you in the appropriate language. I threw quite a few of them for a loop, as I was addressed in Italian, Spanish and even Arabic more frequently than I was addressed in English. I don't come from any of those backgrounds, nor do (I think) I look any of those things (especially Arabic). Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yV8hPKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/mO6KqN2JPOM/s1600-h/IMG_0506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yV8hPKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/mO6KqN2JPOM/s200/IMG_0506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318962031529901218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yO5YC8I/AAAAAAAAAG0/smhRzS94Kuk/s1600-h/IMG_0505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yO5YC8I/AAAAAAAAAG0/smhRzS94Kuk/s200/IMG_0505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318962029637667778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yC0TxKI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Rc7N4A-qres/s1600-h/IMG_0504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdC_yC0TxKI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Rc7N4A-qres/s200/IMG_0504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318962026395190434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last-but-not-least adventure in Istanbul was a cruise on the Bosporous, the strait that separates Europe and Asia. It was windy and freezing, but you only live once, and the experience of sipping tea while looking at two continents at the same time was completely unreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBUv_974I/AAAAAAAAAHc/kt0ITPCS6iw/s1600-h/IMG_0524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBUv_974I/AAAAAAAAAHc/kt0ITPCS6iw/s200/IMG_0524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318963722150866818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Europe, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBURyz-3I/AAAAAAAAAHU/g8MFAa9I5BY/s1600-h/IMG_0515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBURyz-3I/AAAAAAAAAHU/g8MFAa9I5BY/s200/IMG_0515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318963714042624882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Asia, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBTryY_vI/AAAAAAAAAHE/smC0siNuzPc/s1600-h/IMG_0514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBTryY_vI/AAAAAAAAAHE/smC0siNuzPc/s200/IMG_0514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318963703840308978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Europe again, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBUdhh88I/AAAAAAAAAHM/HyIHjJaUUCU/s1600-h/IMG_0520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SdDBUdhh88I/AAAAAAAAAHM/HyIHjJaUUCU/s200/IMG_0520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318963717191365570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me! (with the Hagia Sophia in the background!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our cruise we hightailed it back to the hotel juuuuust in time to make our car to the airport. Usually by the end of a vacation I'm good and ready to go home, but I truly was sad to leave Istanbul. We had done SO much in the four days we were there, but still didn't come close to seeing all there is to see. We barely even made it to the European side (except for the dinner show and the cruise, if that counts). I'd love to make it back someday and spend more time exploring. Truly truly truly an amazing unexpected gem of a place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-7503969591457075262?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e982864093d672e8&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=f58e838ecfd01cac&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/7503969591457075262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/03/not-constantinople.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/7503969591457075262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/7503969591457075262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/03/not-constantinople.html' title='Not Constantinople'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/Sc41VDnXQ7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/B1A91Qfwu8A/s72-c/IMG_0289.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-3085913730085254052</id><published>2009-03-02T01:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T13:15:32.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharjah</title><content type='html'>I have a lot of catching up to do, and while I just got back from Istanbul, which was really really exciting, I'm writing about Sharjah first for the sake of chronology. Anyway... Sharjah is the Emirate just east of Dubai, about 45 minutes away. A couple of weekends ago I decided I wanted to rent a car for Saturday because it'd been close to two months since I'd driven and I really wanted to drive, and also riding taxis everywhere gets old, and expensive, really fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the car-- I went in Thursday to reserve a car for Saturday, gave copies of my my credit card, passport, license, ID, etc. and pick the car up Saturday morning. About 45 minutes after we leave I get a call from the car company telling me to come back with the car because they weren't supposed to rent to me because I'm not 21 and therefore will not be covered by their insurance. We were already out (albeit, still in Dubai) and had the day planned, so I said we were already gone and were not coming back until the evening, and that I would return the car the next morning, as previously agreed. I also made it clear that, under no uncertain terms, would I be responsible for an accident, my fault or otherwise, beyond what I had signed in the rental papers, as it was the company's responsibility to make sure they were renting only to qualified persons. Then they called back again offering a driver for the day at no charge. Well, I wanted to drive, and we thought a 5th person was going to be joining us later, so I told them the car was already full. Anyway, as all this is going on and I'm insisting the whole time that I'm already out of Dubai, I am, as I would later find out, getting a parking ticket. Of course, it was totally in Arabic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPyckX1MI/AAAAAAAAACU/vv2zzCdlzqc/s1600-h/IMG_0236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPyckX1MI/AAAAAAAAACU/vv2zzCdlzqc/s200/IMG_0236.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310183532471506114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My little rented clown car. Probably more trouble than it was worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGR1G6L9VI/AAAAAAAAACs/TtwHBHTp52E/s1600-h/IMG_0268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGR1G6L9VI/AAAAAAAAACs/TtwHBHTp52E/s200/IMG_0268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310185777220285778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My first international parking ticket. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;Aside from those issues, it was a really good day. We went to a cute breakfast place in Jumierah and then the Dubai zoo, which is the most disgusting zoo I have ever seen, but I suppose worth the two Dirham admission just to say I've gone. Now, I don't want to be a zoo snob or anything like that, but for a city like Dubai that is all about having the biggest and best of everything, this zoo was SO third world. It was completely filthy and all the animals were in too-small dirty cages. They didn't even have grass or habitat-type stuff in them. All of the monkeys had very serious problems with their butts-- I don't know how exactly to describe it. There were gross tumor things coming off of them. It was definitely not normal. I'd also heard that a lot of the animals there (mostly birds and stuff) were illegal ones people had tried to get through the airport. I believe it. There were megatons of birds. Illegal freaking birds. Crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPxwlOoCI/AAAAAAAAACE/u-9lJMrOTnw/s1600-h/IMG_0200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPxwlOoCI/AAAAAAAAACE/u-9lJMrOTnw/s200/IMG_0200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310183520663937058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Probable contra-birds at Dubai Zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after the zoo we came back to the university to pick up the rest of the troops and headed out to Sharjah. Driving in the UAE is like driving in a video game. Its kind of like the level of Mario Kart where you have to go a specific, exact route or you'll never make it to where you want to go and have to start over from the beginning. Seriously, if you miss your turn you have to go about six kilometers out of your way to get back where you were. Also, people drive like they're on the way to the hospital with a pregnant woman in labor in the back seat. At night they'll ride your bumper and flash their brights as if to say "speed up or move the hell over", which made the fact that the tiny Yaris clown car I was driving had what may as well have been a lawn mower engine under the hood. ALSO, some of the roundabouts in Sharjah (the UAE loooooooooves roundabouts--- and speed bumps. I'll never know why) are TRIANGULAR. Yeah. They're triangles. How does that even qualify as a ROUNDabout--- IT HAS CORNERS!!!! Anyway... let's just say we got the grand tour of Sharjah---especially the Blue Souk parking lot--- way more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, first stop in Sharjah was at a park overlooking the water, which was very cute and quaint. Sharjah is older and less gawdy than Dubai. Its supposed to be the cultural heritage center of the UAE and is much more strict. Alcohol is illegal, unmarried men and women are not supposed to be out in public together, etc. etc. Anyway, we walked around the park area and tried to walk across a bridge to Al Jazeera island... yes, that's its name... but the bridge was locked. For good reason-- I don't think said bridge would be capable of supporting human weight-- it was pretty weathered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPyESQeLI/AAAAAAAAACM/swni8f51SWE/s1600-h/IMG_0234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPyESQeLI/AAAAAAAAACM/swni8f51SWE/s200/IMG_0234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310183525953075378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bridge to Al Jazeera Island in Sharjah-- much less suitable for human use than it looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after that we went to the Museum of Islamic Heritage, which was super nice. After that we went to the Tate museum of Sharjah.... yes, this is also a real thing. They had a really great exhibit of British Orientalist paintings. After museums we checked out the Blue Souk, which is actually a really new covered souk. It felt more like a mall than a Middle Eastern bazaar--- it had escalators! But it was nice. I bought a pashmina and a camel wall decoration thing. After the souks we took our "grand tour" of Sharjah, missing turns, getting caught in traffic, and so on, but finally made it to Qanat al Kasbah, where we met three other people from AUD. It is a really cute, romantic little area with shops and restaurants and a little bridge over a creek. It has a big ferris wheel-- the Eye of the Emirates and a cool fountain choreographed to music. We had dinner and gelato and rode the wheel. Overall, a very nice day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPy035OVI/AAAAAAAAACc/D-SH8uk19P8/s1600-h/IMG_0247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPy035OVI/AAAAAAAAACc/D-SH8uk19P8/s200/IMG_0247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310183538995837266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Inside the Muesum of Islamic Heritage. Sooo nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPzLDTo6I/AAAAAAAAACk/fbLm16gIV_U/s1600-h/IMG_0256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPzLDTo6I/AAAAAAAAACk/fbLm16gIV_U/s200/IMG_0256.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310183544949285794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Qanat al Kasbah and the Eye of the Emirates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to write about Istanbul, but am leaving for spring break in Jordan in about five hours and need to make an attempt at sleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also-- I just booked a flight to Bahrain for the first weekend in April! Do a google image search of Bahrain. You should be jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and miss you all! Sorry for not writing more. I'll do big time updating after spring break!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-3085913730085254052?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3085913730085254052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/03/sharjah.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3085913730085254052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3085913730085254052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/03/sharjah.html' title='Sharjah'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7B07gi9rajI/SbGPyckX1MI/AAAAAAAAACU/vv2zzCdlzqc/s72-c/IMG_0236.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-6108887284696666855</id><published>2009-02-28T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T21:40:42.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just wanted to let everyone know I made it safely back from Turkey. It was a great trip and Istanbul is BEAUTIFUL! I can't wait to go back! I won't have time to write about it until probably later this week (midterms, papers, etc. must take precedence...) but I'll try my best to update before I leave for Jordan on the 7th!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-6108887284696666855?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6108887284696666855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-wanted-to-let-everyone-know-i-made.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6108887284696666855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6108887284696666855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-wanted-to-let-everyone-know-i-made.html' title=''/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-9125589726942200784</id><published>2009-02-12T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:04:36.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Mr. Sandman...</title><content type='html'>Once again the weather in Dubai has decided to turn freakish. This time instead of floods of biblical proportions, the Emirates have been graced with a sandstorm. Yeah. A sandstorm. North-westerly winds have been blowing hard since last night, apparently from high atmospheric pressure over Saudi Arabia and low atmospheric pressure over Iran. The wind has kicked up sand, making the air gritty and visibility terrible. The sky is also a depressing dryer-lint shade of gray. I heard it is supposed to continue at least through tomorrow. Here's a link to the story about it in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gulf News:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gulfnews.com/nation/Environment/10284940.html"&gt; http://www.gulfnews.com/nation/Environment/10284940.html&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, here is a link to another story in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gulf News&lt;/span&gt;, which I found completely and utterly hilarious: &lt;a href="http://gulfnews.com/world/Australia/10281652.html"&gt;http://gulfnews.com/world/Australia/10281652.html&lt;/a&gt;. A man flying from Dubai to Melbourne smuggled live pigeons on the plane... in his pants!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a lecture on campus this week sponsored by the Islamic Club. It was called "Evolution Deceit and the Fact of Creation". I went to it. It was a crazy Turkish man using misrepresented and out of context quotations from everyone from Charles Darwin to Adolf Hitler to prove that evolution was not real. He showed a video of Richard Dawkins being asked about evolution and stopped the video before Dawkins gave a response, and then used it as evidence against evolution. It was ridiculous, and totally non-academic (including his reference to Harvard University spelled "Harward Univercity", among other egregious errors).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I think I have officially seen the most ridiculous car in Dubai. Sure, you see plenty of Bentleys, Maseratis, Porches, Maybachs, etc. I think something like 17 or 27 percent of the world's Range Rovers are here, too, but I saw the dumbest one EVER at JBR the other day. It was a Range with a matte hot pink paint job and Swarovski crystal details. It was also driven by two men, which came as something of a surprise, but hey, to each his own, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allllso..... I've just been informed by a friend from home that an article about my study in Dubai ran in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Indiana Daily Student &lt;/span&gt;today. I did the interview for it a week or so ago. Anyway... its not very interesting, but you can read it if you like:&lt;a href="http://www.idsnews.com/news/story.aspx?id=66125&amp;amp;comview=1"&gt; http://www.idsnews.com/news/story.aspx?id=66125&amp;amp;comview=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now. I'm trying to be a more conscientious blogger. I'll leave you with some pictures. Happy Valentine's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148462_1145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 213px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148462_1145.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Malibu Barbie's Range Rover cruisin' in JBR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148454_8275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 229px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148454_8275.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Crazy thing (I don't know what it is, I want to say it fell from outer space) that washed up on the beach last week. Notice the Atlantis (reddish building on the left) in the background-- that's the Palm Island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148455_8609.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 287px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148455_8609.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148456_8974.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 287px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2184/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49148456_8974.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Part of the "Fossils Exhibit" from the "Evolution Deceit and the Fact of Creation" lecture. We all got free "Miracles of the Quran" CDs as party favors. I haven't played mine yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-9125589726942200784?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/9125589726942200784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-mr-sandman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/9125589726942200784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/9125589726942200784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-mr-sandman.html' title='Oh, Mr. Sandman...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-5426055488988902186</id><published>2009-02-01T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T11:34:35.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oman</title><content type='html'>I'm quickly learning that perhaps I'm not the biggest fan of blogging... sorry, Mom. There's always so much going on that I feel like its impossible to get all my thoughts organized and written down. On the other hand, though, maybe I'll be glad for these reflections one day, when I'm old and overly nostalgic about my youth. Yuck... Anyway....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I walk around Dubai and I forget I'm in the Middle East. Just looking out my window I see advertisements for Nokia, CNN, Leo Burnett Group, Sony Ericsson and a Radisson. I eat at places like Subway and Quiznos more often than I eat schwarma or hummus, and I'm certainly not making any use of the Arabic I'm supposed to be learning. It is only when I zoom in a little closer and see men in their dishdashas and women in their abaayas, or try to go somewhere on a Friday during the day (when EVERYTHING is closed) that I realize that I am in fact in another country and another culture altogether. My weekend border-run to Muscat, Oman (now two weekends ago) was a pleasant little reminder that I am, in fact, quite far from home and am, indeed, in the Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a bus there. I think it was 110 Dirham round trip, which is like $30.00, so you'd be correct to assume that it was a little bit shady. Not wanting to break suit, we spent the night at an equally glamorous hotel not too far from the bus station. The day we got in we took a cab out to another part of town, where the Muscat Festival was going on. We walked along the beach for a little while, just taking it in. It was a really gorgeous day, and the beaches were awesome... that is until I almost walked on some dead fish that were lying in the sand... at that point I (may or may not have flipped out and) was done with the beach. We found out way to the Muscat Festival, which was WAY farther away than we'd estimated from the map, but of course we didn't realize that until we'd already walked a really long way. Walking places in Muscat is a lot like walking places in Dubai-- totally hampered by construction, with sidewalks mysteriously ending and reappearing at random intervals, among other lovely traits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we finally did get to the Festival we were greeted by the most RIDICULOUS display of flashing lights ever seen. I'm pretty sure my new dream job is to be the lighting designer for the Muscat Festival. Every surface imaginable was strewn with strands and strands of bright, multi-colored flashing lights. Probably enough to cause seizures. It was awesome! Besides lights, the festival had rides, games, shops, performers, tons of food, more food, fireworks, and awesome people-watching. Aside from our group of nine, I think I only saw two other Westerners there. Its so interesting to watch the way people interact here. Families, men with each other, men toward women, women with each other. Everything. Maybe some of it has to do with my Western conception of Arab Muslims, but I find it SO interesting. After the Muscat Festival, we found our way to Trader Vic's bar (There are a couple in Dubai, and I think they are in the States, too) and walked around outside a little bit. The night life in Muscat is very different from that of Dubai in that there is none. Really, we only found the one bar, and there was no one out past about 11:00. Right now its 12:30 and I can hear the bar at the hotel across from my dorm bumpin' at full blast, and will continue to hear it until about 3:30 (bars here all close about then).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning only three of our nine made it out to Old Muscat. We did a walking tour (thank you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lonely Planet&lt;/span&gt;) and saw some really cool stuff. Muscat is in the Hajar mountains, in kind of a valley and is surrounded by old Portuguese forts from the 1580s. Very cool. We started out walking through the Mutra souks and the fish market (yuck), saw the marina and the gorgeous blue water, got lunch by the souks, then walked out to see various forts, all built into the mountains surrounding the city. Most of them were closed off, but we climbed up one that was an old watchtower right over the water. Very cool! Muscat is very green and pretty, with tons of flowers. Seeing that, and the mountains all around made me think of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Sound of Music&lt;/span&gt; a little bit. The walk along the marina had a very European feel, but still managed to maintain that Middle Eastern vibe at the same time. We saw the harbor, which was probably one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. The Gulf of Oman is really really beautiful. The water is so clear you can see schools of fish swimming in it. The mountains in the harbor have been "graffitied" over the years by visiting ships that pull in. We saw the Sultan's palace and a huge white building that was actually a giant incense burner...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next point: Oud. I cannot fully express in words how much I totally and completely detest Oud. Its this perfume Arabs wear and burn as incense. I think it comes from a tree fungus (not kidding). It smells like musk and gagging and death. And not only do people wear it often, they wear it in mass quantities, like enough to fill an entire classroom with the smell for an hour. I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we finished out the day in Mutra, took a cab back to our luxury accommodations, met up with the rest of the group, grabbed a quick lunch and got back on the bus. Oh and about cabs in Oman, they aren't metered, so you have to stand in the road negotiating a price with the driver before getting in. That's interesting, especially because most of them only speak Arabic. Its also interesting to try to decipher peoples' accents and dialects there, as they are much different than those you learn in formal Arabic classes. Cabs are also much more expensive in Muscat than in Dubai, which I feel is ridiculous, as everything else is so much cheaper. Anyway, the bus ride home was unevnetful, and I couldn't believe how glad I was to find myself back in Dubai. For as ridiculous as this city is, it has come to feel comfortable, on some level, in some way, like home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38574107_9512.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 214px;" src="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38574107_9512.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009817_8427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 211px;" src="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009817_8427.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009827_1978.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 220px;" src="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009827_1978.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009816_8086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 218px;" src="http://photos-a.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009816_8086.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009826_1627.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 227px;" src="http://photos-c.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009826_1627.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009815_7744.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 217px;" src="http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1975/150/111/6850868/n6850868_49009815_7744.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From top to bottom: entrance to the Muscat Festival, roundabout in old Muscat, the Sultan's palace, me in front of the Gulf of Oman (with the giant incense burner and Portuguese forts from the 1580s in the background), the harbor, men fishing in the Gulf in front of one of the forts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I might have already written this, but I'm going to Jordan for spring break and am REALLLLLY excited to geek out at ancient Roman ruins and Petra (which we may tour on HORSEBACK!). I'm also in the market for a cheap flight to Istanbul, and Bahrain is hopefully going to factor in somewhere as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and miss you all! I'm off to the beach!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-5426055488988902186?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/5426055488988902186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/oman.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5426055488988902186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/5426055488988902186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/02/oman.html' title='Oman'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-1693330318237449093</id><published>2009-01-26T04:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T10:54:56.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gaza rally, Abu Dhabi, the flood and my Sheikh sighting...</title><content type='html'>Sorry for being a blog &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;neglector&lt;/span&gt;! Its been a while since I've written an update of any real substance. Sitting down and emptying my brain like this is more difficult than anticipated. Dubai is still great. It could be warmer, but I'm sure that's not a statement for which you in the states will harbor any sympathy. A lot has happened since the last time I wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a Gaza rally on campus Jan. 14. A lot of people came out to show support for the Palestinian cause--a very different perspective from what I've known. It was something like being in the middle of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bizarro&lt;/span&gt; universe, in which everything was opposite, but just because the rally didn't express my own views or those I see in the foreground at home, the emotion behind them was just as strong. Just as real. The transition point in the rally (after speeches and before a candlelight vigil) was the crowd chanting in Arabic "Death to Israel", "Palestine is our home and the Jews are our dogs" and "Our souls, our blood, for Palestine". Unnerving? Definitely. But this is the perspective I came here to gain. The rally was pictured in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gulf News&lt;/span&gt;, a major English language newspaper here... let me know if you recognize anyone in the photograph: &lt;a href="http://gulfnews.com/nation/Society/10276188.html"&gt;http://gulfnews.com/nation/Society/10276188.html &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on on the night of the rally it started raining... just a little... and then... a lot. Well, Dubai is in the desert, and it doesn't rain much in the desert. Let's just put it simply by saying that this city is not, in any way, built for rain. Streets flooded within half an hour, buildings leaked and everything was impassable. Of course we still found it within ourselves to go out to the bars, but by the time we got there we looked like we'd crawled right out of the sea. The issue isn't even that it rained that hard or that much, the issue is that Dubai doesn't have drains in the streets, or anywhere, and doesn't build sidewalks or buildings capable of withstanding even light showers. Still, people managed to drive through the flooding in their Range Rovers, Porches and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lamborghini's&lt;/span&gt;. The next morning, I saw barefoot migrant workers outside my window manually pumping water out of the street. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2107/86/4/38300252/n38300252_34494595_8411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 217px;" src="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2107/86/4/38300252/n38300252_34494595_8411.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I really don't think urban planning was in any way involved in the urban planning of this city. They still haven't fixed any of the places where the sidewalk caved in, and the roof in one of the buildings in Media City where we often eat caved in, and has yet to be fixed (though a lovely plaster wall encompassing the entire dining area/hole has been erected), and there were huge puddles (or small ponds) all around for most of the week. Also, most of the sidewalks/building entryways on campus are granite or some other smooth, fancy stone surface, making them dangerously slippery when wet. I also heard that the rain was chemically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;induced&lt;/span&gt;, which probably shouldn't surprise me, but I don't actually know for sure. Either way, its got to be easier to build things right the first time than to have to repair them every time it rains even a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735486_9439.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 220px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735486_9439.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735489_195.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 271px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735489_195.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Saturday my Islamic Art and Architecture class took a trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Abu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dhabi&lt;/span&gt; to see the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sheikh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Zayed&lt;/span&gt; Mosque (also called the Grand Mosque) which is the 3rd largest in the world. It was AMAZING. Really really really really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;reallllllllly&lt;/span&gt; gorgeous. I could explain, but the pictures do it much better. Also, I got to wear an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;abaaya&lt;/span&gt; for the first time, which was a cool experience. They're actually pretty cool. Except for the fact that it was windy out and really difficult to get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hijab&lt;/span&gt; (headscarf) to stay on my head! The mosque is super hi-tech (I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;talkin&lt;/span&gt;' helipad, flat screen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;TV's&lt;/span&gt;, fancy clocks displaying prayer times for the whole day, etc.) and glamorous. I'd be interested to know how many tons of marble are in it. Also, it holds the world's largest carpet and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;chandelier&lt;/span&gt; (both exquisite) and has 82 domes... I can keep talking about how huge and gorgeous it is, but I'd rather you just look....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v652/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515535_92.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 341px; height: 258px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v652/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515535_92.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515591_4869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 332px; height: 248px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515591_4869.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v652/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515560_8952.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 286px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v652/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515560_8952.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515565_4888.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 286px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515565_4888.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515581_623.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 286px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515581_623.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515567_117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 418px; height: 313px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2063/205/99/14216958/n14216958_38515567_117.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I saw the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Sheikh&lt;/span&gt; of Dubai today!!! I was eating lunch outside at a restaurant and he was just walking down the sidewalk. So cool! People here seriously love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Sheikh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Mohammed&lt;/span&gt;. You see his likeness EVERYWHERE... on buildings, cars, t-shirts, hats, scarves, billboards, in restaurants, businesses... everywhere. But its really cool that he just walks around his "kingdom" like a normal guy. He looks like he'd be nice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735502_3531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 231px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735502_3531.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735497_2217.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735497_2217.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the works are a (border run) trip to Muscat, Oman this weekend, and possibly Beirut, Lebanon for spring break. I also really want to get to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Kish&lt;/span&gt; Island, which is off the southern part of Iran and is supposed to be really really beautiful. Also, I found a $5 flight to Bahrain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned how to say a couple phrases in Hindi from one of the guards who works the night shift outside my dorm. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Sai&lt;/span&gt; Ho&lt;/span&gt;? = "How are you?". That's all I actually remember... but I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;workin&lt;/span&gt;' on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-1693330318237449093?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1693330318237449093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/sorry-for-being-blog-neglector-its-been.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1693330318237449093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1693330318237449093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/sorry-for-being-blog-neglector-its-been.html' title='Gaza rally, Abu Dhabi, the flood and my Sheikh sighting...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-8761236063136167568</id><published>2009-01-21T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:00:06.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know, I know, I know....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735542_9214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735542_9214.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1924/214/105/24612065/n24612065_35762534_6300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1924/214/105/24612065/n24612065_35762534_6300.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735540_8645.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1919/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48735540_8645.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1945/63/39/18313226/n18313226_34298217_8858.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1945/63/39/18313226/n18313226_34298217_8858.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an update to acknowledge that I need to update. Everything is fine here in Dubai, and a legit entry will be posted soon (or soon-ish). Classes are going well (except that I've been bumped into Arabic 3 when I should be in 2 and have no idea what's going on), and I'm going to Abu Dhabi on Saturday with my architecture class to tour the Grand Mosque there (3rd largest in the world!). Sorry I don't have more time to really update on everything here. For the meantime, coddle yourselves with the following photographs......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From top to bottom: Gaza rally at AUD (last Wednesday 1/14/08), Dubai Marina (aka the largest manmade marina in the world... go figure), just some of the ridiculous cars for sale on the bulliten board at AUD, a Porsche and a BMW driving in the aftermath of the "flood" that hit Dubai last Wednesday (also 1/14)-- more on the flood to come when I actually sit down and write a real post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for my laziness. Keep nagging me. you'll get a real update sooner or later. Promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope all is well. Love to everyone!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-8761236063136167568?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/8761236063136167568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-know-i-know-i-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/8761236063136167568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/8761236063136167568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-know-i-know-i-know.html' title='I know, I know, I know....'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-1969303488207543122</id><published>2009-01-12T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T08:53:17.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For my Mimi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a199a70115e931ea" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da199a70115e931ea%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4ECACDEAB463C2C68FAA2C7D6A87C52FB4915B7C.8524BC4CC1C3F0A9B579847F111C94C39EBD70D4%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da199a70115e931ea%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DtUvKltv3HZD_z4mBh5dvaQyWrKY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da199a70115e931ea%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331625206%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4ECACDEAB463C2C68FAA2C7D6A87C52FB4915B7C.8524BC4CC1C3F0A9B579847F111C94C39EBD70D4%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da199a70115e931ea%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DtUvKltv3HZD_z4mBh5dvaQyWrKY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-1969303488207543122?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a199a70115e931ea&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1969303488207543122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-my-mimi.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1969303488207543122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1969303488207543122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-my-mimi.html' title='For my Mimi...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-2894048885757675212</id><published>2009-01-12T07:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T21:08:30.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598168_1892.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598168_1892.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598143_5216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598143_5216.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598152_8012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598152_8012.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598197_95.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598197_95.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598188_6741.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/150/111/6850868/n6850868_48598188_6741.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From top to bottom: A view of Dubai from the cable car ride, the Burj Al Arab aka the world's only seven star hotel, Jumierah Mosque, a store window in the Gold Souk in Old Dubai, and Abras in Dubai Creek (also in Old Dubai)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of classes. They seem really easy. Also really disorganized. We'll see.... Other than that, Dubai is great. I really like the people on my program and my living situation. We might go to Fujairah this weekend, which is another Emirate to the North East on the Gulf of Oman to go snorkeling. You know how much I love fish... wish me luck!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-2894048885757675212?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2894048885757675212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2894048885757675212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/2894048885757675212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/pictures.html' title='Pictures!!!'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-1932342275408700326</id><published>2009-01-11T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T12:40:35.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update: Round 2</title><content type='html'>So to continue updating from the last post, we had the car for Saturday as well, and woke up early and drove out to Jumiera Mosque for a group tour. It was really interesting, and the mosque was beautiful. The guy leading the group was a Muslim who had lived in the US for something like 26 years and had an American wife. He made the explanation really interesting and comfortable, but I wish it would have gone more in depth on what exactly Muslims believe and why. We also didn't really get a lot of information about how a Muslim prayer service is conducted. Hopefully I will learn these kinds of things in my Islam class this semester. Anyway, after the mosque we went to this big ex-pat hangout called The Lime Tree Cafe. Very British-y, but cute. After that we went back to Creekside Park and finally took our cablecar ride, which was awesome! We got some really great views of the entire city. We spent a good amount of time in the park. Again, an interesting mix of western and Islamic culture you really would never see anywhere else. It seems to me that Westerners and religious Muslims, for the most part, don't interact at all on the streets. Both just kind of go about their business without really acknowlidging the other at all. Then we went into Old Dubai and saw the Dubai Museum and walked around a little. By the time we got to the souks (marketplace) it was just before a call to prayer, so most shops weren't open or were getting ready to close. We walked around a little more by Dubai Creek. The call to prayer was really cool to hear. Not every single person went to pray, but it seemed most of the people out and about did. After that, the souks reopened and we walked around. There is a gold souk, a textile souk, a spice souk, and more. The gold souk is especially ridiculous. I'll try to post pictures soon. Dubai was built up around the creek, with the north side of the creek, Diera, devleoping as something of a separate area from the south side, Bur Dubai. You can travel from one side to the other in an Abra for one dirham (about 33 cents). Abra's are these traditional little Arab boats... kind of like ghetto Gondolas, that taxi people back and forth. There are also lots of Dhows on the creek, which are traditional wooden Arab sailing vessels that transport goods. They're very old world-- something you wouldn't expect to see in use against a backdrop of skyscrapers and luxury SUVs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had study abroad student orientation, which was a total joke. We all got to meet eachother, which was really nice, but other than that (and free food), it served no purpose. They didn't give us a tour of campus (not that we realllly needed it, as campus is pretty tiny), or tell us how to access our email or student portals, or anything else. Basically they were like "Welcome to Dubai. This is a different country and culture. Girls shouldn't ride in the front seat of a taxi. Good luck." We went to the beach, then came back and had a cookout on the front quad tonight, which was fun, and then went out for hookah with some new people. Classes start tomorrow and I'm less than enthused to get back into the swing of things, but its a necessary evil. I've heard from returning students that classes here aren't nearly as hard as in the States. That's good. I feel I'll learn more here from my travels and experiences than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love and miss you all and hope everything is fabulous. Leave me comments so I feel popular, and so I know people are actually reading this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-1932342275408700326?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1932342275408700326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/update-round-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1932342275408700326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/1932342275408700326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/update-round-2.html' title='Update: Round 2'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-6444330268383647904</id><published>2009-01-10T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T21:30:42.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update...</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I very literally have not stopped since I got here.&lt;br /&gt;My flights were fine and London was a blast. I had a 10 hour layover, so I left the airport and took the tube into Central London. I toured inside Westminster Abbey, which was absolutely AMAZING and breathtakingly beautiful. I walked around and saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the London Eye, etc. etc. all the regular touristy stuff in Central London. I also went to the Victoria and Albert Museum with another girl on her way to Dubai, then we went to a pub and had dinner and drinks before catching the tube back to the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... DUBAI. Ok, so I could very easily write a novel here, but I'll try to keep it brief. I got in early on Thursday morning and pretty soon after met my roommate and a few other study abroad students and walked up to the Marina and around Dubai. Walking places in Dubai is interesting because there aren't many sidewalks, and everything, I repeat EVERYTHING is under construction. Not to mention the fact that people drive like complete lunatics-- I'm talking zooming into roundabouts and then exiting them from inside lanes, dashing back and forth from lane to lane cutting people off, never using turn signals... its ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the horse races the night we got in. What an experience! My roommate interns at the track and took me and two other new students with her. Some fashion show event was going on that night, so we dressed up. The main part of the stands was full of working class people-- Indians and Southeast Asians (the backbone of Dubai's workforce) and admission was free. Everyone was really into the race, but even more interested in majorly ogling us, the only three Westerners in the crowd. People were even taking pictures and video recording us. It was realllllly uncomfortable. Finally we figured out that we could get "status badges" and get into a special section of the track. It was a completely different world filled with high fashion wealthy ex-pats (mostly British, some Americans and others, too), a full bar and restaurant and a fashion show. In this section, you'd be hard pressed to know there was even a horse race going on, except that it was being shown on flat screen TVs all around. Ironically enough, these two worlds were separated by a white picket fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate and some other people and I rented a car for Friday and Saturday (my roommate has already been here for a semester and is a pro Dubai driver) and have spent the last two days touring around the city. We started off like all good Americans, at a mall, where we found $6,000 massage chairs in a Panasonic store and sat in them for a half an hour. The mall was really interesting. You'd see a high end store like Marc Jacobs or Carolina Herrera, and then right next to it would be a store selling abayas, dishdashes and hajibs. The way western and Muslim cultures blend (or don't blend) here is really a crazy thing to see. You see women wearing full on burkas walking on the sidewalk next to women wearing mini skirts and tube tops. After the mall we tried to go on a cable car ride over Dubai Creek, but the park was completely packed with people assembling for a Palestinian support rally. We ended up not getting out of the car. We also drove onto Palm Island (the man made island shaped like a palm tree) and saw the Dubai Atlantis hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money in Dubai is ridiculous. You see Bentleys, Lambroghinis and Aston Martins EVERYWHERE. Apparently there is this big thing in Dubai with license plates where people will pay insane amounts of money for a low number on their plate. I'm talking upwards of ten million dollars for numbers below 100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more to write. Lots more, but I need to go to bedddd. I heard there's a ton of snow in Indiana right now... I'm planning on going to the beach tomorrow.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-6444330268383647904?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6444330268383647904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/update.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6444330268383647904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6444330268383647904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/update.html' title='Update...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-3014084633470090202</id><published>2009-01-08T14:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T14:57:56.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HIIIII!!! I don't have time to actually post about the last couple of days, but just wanted to let everyone know that I'm here and I'm safe. Dubai is wonderful and ridiculous at the same time. I have so much to update, but probably won't have time to do so until after tomorrow night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-3014084633470090202?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3014084633470090202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/hiiiii-i-dont-have-time-to-actually.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3014084633470090202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/3014084633470090202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/hiiiii-i-dont-have-time-to-actually.html' title=''/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8253424686946472790.post-6958326459781286638</id><published>2009-01-04T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T19:30:55.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If it weren't for the last minute, I'd never get anything done...</title><content type='html'>So... Let's see. Its about 10pm Sunday night. I leave Tuesday. Anyone who knows me even a little can probably guess what I'm doing right now-- Procrastinating. My packing process has taken over my room (which oh-so-conveniently now doubles as my mother's office) and my sister's room... as well as part of the upstairs hallway. I'm not really sure how this happened. But in the spirit of continuing my procrastination I'm starting a blog (today's festivities have already included lunch with Danielle, dropping in on the Dreyers, and dying a dress dark red in the bathtub...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my journey is weird in a lot of ways. Dubai itself is pretty new and uncharted in the minds of most Americans. On top of that, I'm the first study abroad student from IU to go there, and then there're current world conflicts to take into account, etc., etc.  Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with this thing and fill everyone in on life in the Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preparing to leave has been exhausting and frustrating at times, yet also completely exhilirating. The fact that I'll be living halfway around the world by the middle of this week hasn't really clicked in my head yet. I feel so lucky to be able to do what I'm about to do, but leaving everything behind is tough.... Maybe a lot of my present difficulties can simply be attributed to the fact that I'm not packed, but it'll get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually. I'm way further ahead in the packing game than I should be. Natalie came over today and literally went through the piles of panic-attack-enducing havoc I'd set aside to pack, took out all the stuff I didn't need and then, I kid you not, PACKED MY SUITCASE. I don't actually deserve this kind of a friend, but I'm eternally grateful nonetheless. So I've got one bag packed. Maybe the next one will pack itself? No? Really??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reactions I've gotten to my choice of study abroad locale have been all over the spectrum. Some people have never heard of Dubai or the UAE-- a lady working in the Office of the Registrar at IU was fully convinced that Dubai was in Italy. A good number of people also confuse it with Mumbai, which then leads to a conversation about terrorism. But then again, when people do understand where I'm going, that topic still comes up every time. Some people think its awesome and are really excited and ask tons of questions or tell me things I should see and do, and others must think I'm going straight into the middle of a battlefield. Regardless, almost everyone to whom I've said goodbye has bid me adieu with something along the lines of "don't get killed" or "don't get blown up". Its very disheartening that whenever people hear the word "Arab" or "Muslim" their thoughts immediately go to terrorism. I hope that by sharing my experiences I can convey the beauty and richness of Arab and Muslim culture and traditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And you all should definitely definitely send me mail in Dubai! My address will be:&lt;br /&gt;Samantha Hutt&lt;br /&gt;Female Dorm&lt;br /&gt;The American University in Dubai&lt;br /&gt;P.O. Box 28282&lt;br /&gt;Dubai, United Arab Emirates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll also have AIM (sammo524), skype (samantha.hutt), email (samhutt@indiana.edu) and facebook. So you truly have no excuse not to keep in touch! I'm not 100% on the phone number situation yet, but I'll post it on here when I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this blog can serve as a way for me to share my perspectives, experiences, adventures and antics abroad with my family and friends. Keep it real, guys! I love you and miss you already! Happy New Year!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8253424686946472790-6958326459781286638?l=samanthahutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6958326459781286638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-it-werent-for-last-minute-id-never.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6958326459781286638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8253424686946472790/posts/default/6958326459781286638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samanthahutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-it-werent-for-last-minute-id-never.html' title='If it weren&apos;t for the last minute, I&apos;d never get anything done...'/><author><name>samhutt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03295826403541059975</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
