Steve Jobs will be happy...

...to know that in the middle of the Jordanian desert I found a Bedouin tribesman playing with an ipad.

While there's no WiFi signal in Wadi Rum, he was happy watching Arabic videos he had uploaded.

A trip to the Hammam!

Every now and then there comes a time for you to spend a few hours primping yourself. Here in the Middle East, such occasions call for a trip to the local Hammam. The Hammam is more than an Arabic (or Turkish) bath house, it's a place where the community comes to wash away the trials of the day, gossip, broker deals, and hang out with friends. 

I've gone to a Hammam in Turkey, but I was interested to try an Arabic Hammam. Thankfully, there was one around the corner from my brother's house, so off I went. As soon as I entered the Hammam I was struck by the humidity in the room. Had I suddenly been transported back to a Washington DC summer? I was greeted at the entrance by a female worker, as the Hammam is segregated by gender. She spoke no English, and I spoke no Arabic but we got by with an extensive use of miming through out my entire experience:

Given the fact that I was in a bathhouse, my first order of business was to strip down. The Hammam had women of all shapes and sizes, and modesty didn't seem to be an issue. I was given a towel and wooden slippers, and since my glasses were removed, led into the main chamber. Some Arabic/Turkish bathhouses have multiple rooms, but in this Hammam everything goes down in one room. 

If the first room was hot, the main chamber was boiling. Along the walls were water spouts and basins, but the main feature of the room was a salt-and-pepper- marble bench. I was told to sit on the bench as steam entered the room. One the main principles of the Hammam is to steam the body first so that you essentially sweat out your impurities or toxins. Gwyneth Paltrow would have been proud.

After getting my sweat on for 20 minutes, I was led to one of the water basins and told to lie down. Hot water was splashed on my body to get rid of the sweat. Then the Hammam-worker used a coarse mitt to exfoliate my arms, legs, and torso. Often the word exfoliate has a positive connotation, but this was a rough experience. One that I liken to someone vigorously scrubbing you with a Brillo® Steel Wool sponge. I was a snake, shedding a layer of skin.

Next came my favorite part: the soap! I didn't just get washed down with a bar of dove, I was covered in olive oil soap. Warm, creamy, and Jasmine-scented, this soap felt amazing on my skin. Not only did I smell good, but my skin wasn't dried out. Similar olive-oil based products were used on my hair. Four hours later and my skin and hair are still smooth and silky.

After rinsing off the soap, I got a massage. More olive-oil products were used as a tiny Arabic woman pounded my back, arms, and legs. I wasn't able to convey to her the pain I was feeling, so instead I endured the knuckle grinding and thumb pressing. Maybe I'm a wimp compared to Arab women (and European tourists), or maybe she was working out her own frustrations on my upper torso. 

Once that was done I put on my a robe and relaxed in the first room for a while. After I got dressed, tea and lunch  (Ful Medammes) were served in a spacious courtyard. The entire Hammam experience lasted about an hour and a half, and I felt renewed and refreshed afterwards. It cost a flat price of 1100 SYP, which works out to be about $24 US dollars for a shower-scrub-massage-tea-lunch combo. 

ما من ساعة مذهلة!

(what an amazing hour!)

There's No Place Like Home?

One of the best things about travelling is being exposed to new places, customs, and people. Even in a cosmopolitan city like Beirut popular chains put a local spin on their menu or offerings. An H&M might choose to display more jeans and less shorts, while a McDonalds might sell burgers with feta cheese or lamb patties.


One of the exceptions to this rule seems to be Starbucks. 

My family and I went in to a Beirut Starbucks so my mom could get her caffeine fix, and I was immediately struck by how familiar the store felt. The walls were a sand-tinted beige, the tables and chairs dark brown, and large couches were placed in the corner.  You could order a  tall caramel macchiato, grande cinnamon dolce crème frappuccino, or a venti iced pumpkin spice latte. Plus the store was playing some light jazz, with a mandatory heavy emphasis on saxophone rifts. Displays tempted you to buy a "Christmas Blend" bag of coffee beans or an over sized plastic coffee mug that was plastered with  art-deco images of New York.

My own gateway to America, smack dab in the middle of the Arabian peninsula. 

Wake Up In The Morning...

Recently I've been staying with my brother who lives in the Middle East.  Last night he was at a work function so to pass the time I decided to watch some tv.

As soon I picked up the remote imagine my surprise when Ke$ha appears on his screen, dancing around and urging everyone to "Take it Off" as she's pelted with color power. I'm not a Ke$ha fan at all, especially her predilection for dancing on toilets in her music videos and her lack of artistic ability. I find her songs grating, and it annoyed me to no end that her first single Tik Tok followed me everywhere during my last year of college.

When it comes to media the Middle East can be strange. Yes I have access to GMail and pirated movies, but certain western artists are frowned upon and most social networking sites (Facebook, Twitter, etc) are blocked.

It seems, however, I never should have doubted the power of Ke$ha and her ability to follow me everywhere.  Here's to brushing your teeth with a bottle of Jack!

Great Artists Steal

Recently a YouTube video has surfaced claiming Chris Brown stole music from Calvin Harris, a Scottish electro-pop singer/songwriter. Did Chris Brown steal from Calvin Harris? Watch the video and judge for yourself:

 
The  video made me think of a quote Picasso allegedly said: "Good Artists Borrow, Great Artists Steal."

There's a fine line between being inspired by something you've seen/heard, and stealing someone's original idea. Perhaps mainstream bands and artists (like Chris Brown) think they can get away with it. After all mainstream artists already have established credibility, along with label-sponsored legal teams.  Or maybe they're not aware of what they're doing. I'm certainly inspired by many things I see and hear everyday, and I can't always give credit to things that I produce. 


YouTube videos featuring "stolen" music are fairly common, and often very convincing.  I found two examples of fairly known cases: Vanilla Ice vs. Queen/David Bowie, and Coldplay vs. Joe Satriani. While both cases have (legally) drawn to a close (they both settled out of court), fans still comment speculate.

This Explains That: Gordan Ramsay Edition

One of the perks of insomnia, is the ability to stumble upon some television I normally wouldn't watch. Tonight I stumbled upon Gordon Ramsay's Hell's Kitchen, a show which basically allows competing chefs the opportunity to get insulted by Gordon Ramsay. Oh, and you get a cooking job if you win. Top Chef this is not, the show focuses on the contestants' mistakes and the numerous insults thrown their way.

I can understand why people getting yelled at makes great television (Tyra Banks I'm looking at you). Yes it's a show with a foundation built on insults, but it's been on the air for 5 years, has been nominated for an Emmy award, and gets great ratings.

I was surprised however, that Gordan Ramsay was the first chef to successfully capitalize on cursing/insulting aspects of chef culture. I spent too much time thinking about this: Googling, watching clips on Youtube, and Googling some more. Thankfully, I found my answer in the always reliable  Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain:

This...

The new celebrity chef culture is remarkable and admittedly annoying phenomenon...Of all the professions, after all, few people are less suited to be suddenly thrown into the public eye than chefs. We're used to doing what we do in private, behind closes doors. We're used to using language that many would find....well...offensive to say the least. We probably got in the business in the first place because interacting with normal people in a normal workspace was impossible or unattractive to us. Many of us don't know how to behave in public-and don't care to find. 

Explains That...

So while most chefs will continue to stay in the kitchen, Gordon Ramsay is allowed to expand his media empire to three shows: Kitchen Nightmares, Hell's Kitchen, and MasterChef.

FML

Cee-Lo's Redemption

Yesterday, I wrote about the awesomeness of "Fuck You" by Cee Lo Green.  This afternoon I was delighted to find that the staff at the Dallas Observer have mashed the song with worthy movie scenes. My favorite mash-up happens to be from the Shawshank Redemption :

Cee-Lo's Shawshank Redemption from Dallas Observer on Vimeo.

Other "worthy" movies include Say Anything and Dirty Dancing, but nothing embodies the spirit of "Fuck You" than the Shawshank mash-up.  Specifically, the mash-up features the scene where Andy sneaks into an office to play some music over the PA system for his fellow inmates. Those few moments of bliss are important, even though he knows he'll end up in solitary confinement for the incident. However, instead of the Marriage of Figaro, the inmates get "Fuck You," a song that perhaps is better equipped to highlight the feelings of life-with-out-parole inmates.

An Awesome Blossom Song

Every now and then an artist releases a song that is just awesome. "Fuck You" by Cee Lo Green (of Crazy and Closet Freak fame) is that song this summer. It's catchy and has great lyrics. Plus it's about something many of us can relate to: seeing your ex move on.
My favorite verse:
And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a...
FUCK YOU!
Yeah I'm sorry, I can't afford a Ferrari,
but that don't mean I can't get you there.
I guess he's an Xbox, and I'm more Atari
but the way you play your game aint fair.

What's For Dinner?

I was born in England a country that appreciates barley, especially during summer. My mom has made sure our love of barley continued in the United States, so last night she helped me make some barley stew.


Do you cook with barley? Have a dish from the "home country" you still  cook? Let me know in the comments and check out my recipe for barley stew after the jump.

La Prima Portata

If the first course (“la prima portata”) determines the meal, can the same be said about the first post?

My name is Neha, and I've created Crooked Concinnity to explore the intersections of life, especially when it comes to art. Art in the most liberal sense, from performance art to the art of cooking.

I'm a recent college grad, and like many people my age (22) I'm seeking gainful employment. Home for now is Boston, although I've lived in Washington DC, New Jersey, and London.



My likes/interests are eclectic and strong, something I’m proud of:

• (Fine) Art: Impressionism, surrealism, portrait/landscape photography (Monet, Dali, Ansel Adams, etc)
  
• Books: contemporary fiction and memoirs (Jhumpa Lahiri, David Sedaris, Jeffrey Eugenides)
  
• Dance: Contemporary/modern dance and “ethnic” dance (Pilobolous, Kathak, Savion Glover)
  
• Movies: Disney Movies, satirical comedies (Beauty and the Beast, Thank You For Smoking, The Princess Bride)
  
• Music: Pop, rock, and 90s music (Darren Hayes, Jack’s Mannequin, Jason Mraz, Matt Nathanson)
  
• TV: Drama, a good comedy, and the occasional reality show (Battlestar Galactica, The Daily Show, Mad Men, Top Chef, True Blood, The West Wing)
  
• Travel: I love exploring new places, and most recently have explored India, Turkey, Syria, and Northern California.
  

If you really want to get to know me check out my personal website.
I’m excited to see where this blog takes me!