My ID:  8:05am, Saturday, 09 May 2009:  Muscat Seeb International Airport

Oman Air flight WY602 from Dubai

Coming from the hustling, bustling, steel-and-glass metropolis of Dubai, my Initial Descent into Oman had me expecting more of the same. Sure, I had heard that Oman seemed to preserve more of its traditional heritage than its more famous neighbor to the north, but given that Muscat’s arrival onto the international scene along with the rest of the major cities in the Gulf region, I was skeptical.

From the design of the airport itself to the slower pace of the immigration and Arrivals halls, I immediately understood that this wasn’t the same as Bahrain, Dubai, or even Doha. This place indeed marched to its own rhythm, and I was going to enjoy it.

Muscat Seeb International Airport

Even the ride into town was different. There didn’t seem to be the maddening traffic prevalent in the other cities here. There were surely signs of Western influence—your occasional American restaurant chain or hotel—but it seemed more understated and subtle. Upon landing in my fifth city in the Middle East, I finally felt as though I was really in this part of the world.

Traffic isn’t a problem here–yet, at least

The Flag Representing the “Rainbow Nation”

While South Africa put its best foot forward to embody the “Rainbow Nation”  mantra that Nelson Mandela was heavily responsible for brilliantly engineering while it hosted the World Cup in 2010, it is virtually impossible to touch down in this country for the first time and not think about the fact that apartheid, and all its injustices and horrors, was right here less than 20 years ago.  The “coloured” (mixed race) gate agent greeting you off the jet bridge lived through it.  The white immigration officer who stamped your passport lived through it.  The black taxi driver who whisks you off to your hotel lived through it.  And not as a distant childhood memory, either.  These men and women who you are interacting with ever so casually today actually lived a high percentage of their adult lives under apartheid. 

As excited as I was to be landing in South Africa for the first time and as anxious as I was to lay eyes on Cape Town, I had a really difficult time wrapping my head around this.  I wanted with every fiber of my being to ask the mixed woman what she felt of her ethnicity today, and if she still had any bitterness to either the blacks or whites, neither of which would have accepted her 20 years ago.  I wanted to ask the white man if he himself was racist before, or merely a pawn in a political game he had no clout in.  Or, for that matter, if he held any strong prejudices against blacks even today.  I wanted to ask the black man his take on the current “equality”, and whether it was truly possible for anyone not named Mandela to endure racial oppression for so long and be willing to wipe the slate against your oppressors clean.

Such a gruesome and fascinating, albeit sensitive, topic, I will use this space in the future to dig into these questions.

A Tribute to Equality on Robben Island

Nothing is cuter than a baby’s butt, right? I’m not sure that I’d agree with that statement, but in China, it has become a popular trend to show them off.

See, it is not uncommon here to see babies essentially being potty trained out in public, on the street…anywhere that’s convenient! To make it easy, the pants now are basically designed without a butt! Perhaps you’ve seen crotchless panties for a special woman—something to spice up a romantic evening. Well, these are essentially the same thing, but for babies, and to facilitate them doing their business!

A common sights on China’s streets these days

On a recent visit to Shanghai, I was at a hypermarket and saw a Mother holding her baby while the Father was playing with him on the escalator. The baby suddenly started peeing—half into the edge of his pants, a few sprinkles onto the escalator—no worries. The parents exchanged a quick glance, proud of their little one….and then put the baby back into his trolley (which was a shared-use trolley for the hypermarket) as though nothing had happened. Mind you, the baby’s bare behind, and still-trickling-with-pee front side were touching the seat…but again, nothing to worry about. Just hope you don’t choose that trolley next!

Get used to this sight!

This is one of the more memorable surprising things I’ve seen in China, but spend enough time here and nothing along these lines will surprise you after awhile.

Like everyone, I had my preconceptions about Belize before I arrived, for better or worse. After just a few days here, I discovered these six pleasant surprises:

• The language:  Surprisingly, English is the official language of Belize. You are likely to hear Spanish, as well as local languages like Kreyol and Quechi, during your stay here, but you won’t need to know any of it to navigate your way around here.

• The diversity:  While some parts of Central America can feel relatively ethnically homogenous in comparison to parts of the United States, the cultural mix prevalent in Belize is evident immediately upon walking the streets here. Between the Garifuna (the native descendants of the Mayans), the Creoles and the Chinese communities here, you’re in for a mix of diverse cultural experiences.

• The friendliness:  Coming from the East Coast of the States, I’m always surprised when I experience a culture in which strangers greet each other. And that is definitely the common practice in Belize. You’re likely to hear several “good mornings”, “good afternoons” and “good evenings” during your time here, and you may even counter lots of locals eager to start up a good conversation with you.

• The barrier reef:  If you’re a swimmer or a diver, you’re in luck. Belize may be a small country, but it boasts the second-longest barrier reef in the world, which itself is home to seven World Heritage Sites and countless stunning cays. Some of these are inhabited and some aren’t, but each have some of the most exotic species of birds you will ever see.

Belize’s Long Caye (image credit: belizeadventure.com)

• Airport security (or lack thereof):  While Belize City’s International Airport is much like most international airports when it comes to security, it’s strictly-domestic Municipal Airport is a different story. With several flights to the cays that are not easily accessible by boat, there is no security here, and while on board you can literally tap the pilot on the shoulder (I’m not saying I recommend it). When you land, it looks as though you are landing in someone’s backyard and walking through a house more than it resembles an airport.

Caye Caulker Airport or someone’s backyard?

• Ease of transportation:  Contrary to much of Central America, you won’t find military checkpoints looking to extort you on the highways here. There aren’t too many of them, but all of them are safe, in surprisingly good condition, toll-free, and have enough quality signs to make sure you won’t get lost.

My ID:  6:33pm, Sunday, 28 August 2005:  Kuala Lumpur International Airport

Cathay Pacific flight CX721 from Hong Kong

My Initial Descent into Malaysia, via Kuala Lumpur International Airport (like so many others), had me thinking the entire country was a lush, green bed of palm trees. As far as I could see into the distance, rows and rows of palm trees, seemingly planned and organized. I had expected a tropical paradise of sorts, and my first impression was exactly that. And as KLIA is one of the most beautifully designed airports in the world, featuring large glass panels and atriums with more palm trees, that impression continued until long after I had arrived.

Just a little wish from Rua Augusta to start your week right…

It has the notoriety of The Louvre, the diversity of The Met, the style of MoMA, and the history of The British Museum. Yet this gallery is free to all—you can even touch the art if you so desire! Don’t worry, there aren’t any security guards telling you to put your camera away, so no need to sneak that must have photo with your camera phone. And if you really feel compelled, you can even become part of the exhibit. Because this is no museum; it’s an entire city. Welcome to Berlin!

Berlin’s East Side Gallery

Since the Berlin Wall was breached in 1989, street artists have been coming to Berlin around the world to help place their creative stamp on this city of 3.4 million with an identity almost entirely formed in the last 25 years. From Banksy to Blu, just about anyone who’s anyone in the graffiti game has left their mark here—if only Basquiat had been alive in the 90’s. Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg are among the city’s artistically-dense spots, but make sure to check out the East Side Gallery as well—a stretch of the Berlin Wall that has been kept intact and turned into a living, breathing art gallery.

Whether you like paint, stickers, stencils, posters or even the occasional sculpture or space transformation, Berlin is a place you won’t want to miss. And if you want to add to the scene, even better—pack your paint and let’s go!

Stay tuned to this space for some gems that will be posted from Berlin periodically.

While this wasn’t my Initial Descent into Australia, or even into Sydney (this was my second visit), I had one of my more interesting airport arrival experiences here, worth sharing. Sadly, it may even provide a glimpse into Sydney’s culture, although let’s hope that isn’t the case!

Finally reaching Australian soil!

For the last hour or two of my 13-hour flight from San Francisco, I had been talking to my seat buddy, a young lady from Montreal who spent a lot of time in Sydney working in modeling. She had the typical model look–tall, incredibly skinny and pale-skinned–definitely not my type. But she was nice, and most interestingly for me, she was from Montreal. I had always wanted to visit there, and was happy to get some “local” perspective.

This trip, she was to be reunited with her boyfriend, who lived in Sydney and awaited her at the airport. After standing in the customs queue together for another 30 minutes (after our 13 hours together on board), we were about to wish each other farewell and part ways, as she saw her boyfriend awaiting her in the arrivals hall. They hugged, I gave her a casual “good luck” and told her to keep in touch, perhaps by connecting on Facebook. I can’t emphasize enough that after 13 and a half hours of acquaintance, I was just hoping to have someone local I could get some information about Montreal from when I finally did get my act together and visit.

This, apparently, did not sit very well with her boyfriend. She introduced us and we shook hands, and I watched them walk off happily into the Sydney morning. I then proceeded to handle my international arrivals business (sorting out the money situation, phone, etc.), and was shocked to turn around 15 minutes later to a tap on my shoulder. It was the girl’s boyfriend, who had apparently left the girl he had been waiting months to see in the car, and felt the need to walk back into the terminal and seek me out with an important message.

(insert thick Aussie accent here)

Guy: Listen mate, I just wanted to let you know that she’s NOT going to keep in touch with you, and you are NOT going to see her again, alright???

Me: (so astonished that I can’t even stand straight) You actually left her in the car and walked back in here just to tell me that? Whatever man, I’m not even interested!

I then stepped aside and walked away, the situation apparently diffused, given that I didn’t receive any more taps on my shoulder.

Arrivals Hall at Kingsford Smith

But I didn’t know what I was more shocked by–the fact that the guy felt the need to come back and say this to me, when we were clearly introduced–or the fact that he actually had the nerve to tell his lady after they got back to the car that he had to go back into the terminal to talk to me. I mean, what’s she thinking at this point?? I just hope that he didn’t get any that night, and if he did, well, bless that poor girl (with a working brain cell, please).

So, this was my first perception of Sydney–meathead, gym-mongering guys just looking to show off their macho wares to impress a girl. I would later find that while this may be spot on for certain areas like Bondi, fortunately, not every Sydneysider is this way!