Think Locally / Act Locally

Last weekend the American University of Sharjah held its annual Global Day. Schools in the US usually have such a day when all of the international students converge in the quad, set up booths that serve nibbles common to their international taste buds, wear the knock-about apparel that their grandparents still dress in. Let's face it--T's and jeans have become the garment franca around the world. Don't believe me? Next time you see a gang of Palestianian kids chunking rocks at an Israeli tank, count those wearing the robes and hear gear then count those wearing Ronaldo soccer jerseys and knock-off Dockers.


So first we visited the Yemen tent where the students were wearing thobes and ghutras (the robes and head gear)while handing out free cups of Arabic coffee, bowls of Mammouniah, Creamy Almond Rice Pudding and Lubnan. All quite tasty. There were musicians strumming on Ouds, banging on the Darbukkah, a type of hand-drum and blowing plaintive melodies on a flute called a Nay. In a section of their tent, young women were having their hands decorated with elaborate henna designs.

Next we visited the Qatari tent where students dressed in thobes and ghutras passed out freebies likes Arabic coffee and yummies like Mammouniah and Lubnan while musicians played their Nays, their Ouds and hand drums. Free henna tattoos were available in the back of the tent.

At the Kuwaiti tent, the students hadn't applied for a musical permit so there were no musicians. And instead of thobes, the students wore dishdashas. That's what Kuwaitis call thobes--dishdahsas--same difference. And they passed out free coffee of the Arabic variety and Paal Payasam which is a sort of creamy rice pudding. They did have a stereo set-up though, and the music the DJ played was Kuwaiti love songs, all played on the Oud and backed by hand drums.

Tent after tent--Global Day was actually a celebration of local sameness.

The Iranian tent was somewhat different than the other Gulf country tents. Iranians, you see, are not Arabs, and if you call an Iranian an Arab, he'll cut your balls off and serve them to you with saffron rice and Black Alghazaleen tea. The Iranian students charged for their food. No surprise I suppose since the Iranian economy sucks as bad as the US economy. The kids probably needed the extra pocket money.

We also had the best time in the Iranian tent. There was some sort of Iranian Hora-like circle dance going on, Tehrani style I was told by someone close to me who is in the know. Tehrani style is sort of a dance game where all the dancers stand in a circle, shaking their hips to the devil's rhythm while clapping hands or snapping fingers. Throughout the dance, one person is thrust into the center of the circle and makes the rounds while shimmying and shaking to all those in the outer circle until that center person makes a full round, then they choose someone else to take their place. D'Rose hopped right in there like a regular homie who'd never left home.

There was a US tent. The theme was 1968. Peace symbols and half-ass sketches of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King hung on the tent walls. I had to ask--"What's the point?" Nobody really had an answer. They did have free Kool Aid, and no, it wasn't electric.

Look folks, people, my age, my ilk--1968? Give it a rest will you?