The Falcons (and the villa)

Currently, in Liwa, there is a sort of desert festival happening. The glossy brochure promised events like camel, horse and falcon racing (not at the same time, of course), as well as ATV and 4x4s on the dunes.

A few days ago, just back from our trip around the UAE, we jumped at the chance to go see the falcons. About 25 km of winding asphalt from our hotel (winding between dunes that threaten to take over the roadway), past a few desolate shack-like farms, we found the collection of dunes where it was all supposed to take place.

Flags snapped in the breeze above signs for VIP parking, and directions to permanent looking tents, but there didn't seem to be anything else going on. Parking in the empty lot, we gazed out at a sand valley between inumerable sand dunes, and wondered where to go next. Spotting a sign for shopping, I ran off towards a small collection of open tents, hoping for a bargain of some sort.

The first few tents, a collection of packaged perfumes and bundles of synthetic blankets were a bit disappointing, but the next one, staffed by a friendly Egyptian man and his son was more interesting, with its small collection of sadly overpriced antique looking scales and pots (everyone here is from somewhere else, and it's perfectly polite to ask where even the shopkeeper is from, since they are probably not Emirati). They gave us some tough, buttery corn on the cob and invited us to shoot a bow and arrow. Fun, but not what we came for...

Finally, after a shwarma and falafel from a Syrian man, we figured out that we needed to be about a kilometre away. Hopping back in the car and driving, unbeknownst to us, on the camel racing track, we found our way to a collection of SUVs and Emirati men (and a small cluster of tourists), standing around a police barricade and looking at a few guys playing with a small GPS receiver.

It was quite a sunny day, and I have now come to appreciate the necessity of having some sort of scarf, pashmina or hat to protect myself from the sun. It's not a case of modesty, but of shade that had me standing about with my head and arms covered. More SUVs were arriving, and men hopped out, wearing long brown, white or tan dishdashas (aka thobes, the long dress-like garment that men wear), usually with a white scarf tied elaborately on their heads, and the regulation expensive dark sunglasses. Short and slim, with handsomely carved features, Emirati men are almost never, it seems, without their sunnies.

Finally, and suddenly, a man walked past me, carrying a hooded falcon on his arm. About the size of a large cat (and keeping in mind that all my cats are large), these falcons are beautifully patterned brown, white. They all have tags on their legs, and the racers have GPS antennas attached just above their tail feathers. Their hoods cover their heads completely, with just their curved beaks sticking out - actually, you can buy the hoods to cover, say, the gear shift of your SUV - but the birds always seem alert, with their heads cocking this way and that, and wings stretching out and flapping every few minutes. Some of the handlers' gloves have a strip of astro-turf for the bird's long talons to cling to, and all of the men were extremely attentive to their bird's wellbeing. They stroke their feathers, and even nuzzle and kiss the birds before setting them off on their flights.

One by one, the competitors came to the starting post - a small area, enclosed on three sides with the audience behind (unless you have a nice camera, and are a tourist, and just wander past the police gates and stand where you can see the birds starting off). Each bird flies alone, across a large expanse of hard-packed desert to the other partner, a man who is hooting, jumping and swinging a large bag-thing around to attract the bird. Crouching down, the main handler takes the falcon's hood off, at which point the bird's head starts bobbing up and down, turning this way and that, until he spots the 2nd partner across the field. Then, like an explosion, he takes off, wings pumping, flying low across the sand. Some of the birds focused flew straight and low, but most of them flew a bit off course, some even over our heads.

One of the security guards struck up a conversation with me, and offered me tea, or to stand in the shade while Ty was taking a ton of pictures. After letting him look at some of the great shots Ty got (we're trying to use one as our blog header, but aren't sure if it's turned out or not), he walked us behind the starting chute where the next competitors were waiting. I felt kind of shy, but everyone was super friendly, with one young guy (with braces on his teeth) even letting me pet the falcon he held. I can tell you that the birds feel solid, their feathers are soft, but they aren't fluffy birdies at all.

After an afternoon in the sun, and with a camera full of gorgeous shots, I called it a day. We don't know which of the falcons flew the straightest and fastest, winning his owner some kind of fabulous prize (a car, maybe?), but it was still an unforgettable experience.

And... as for our villa... it's going to be a few weeks before it's clean enough for us to move into. Empty villas here are commonly and promptly taken over by pigeons, so we've got to wait for them to be cleaned out before we can even think of moving in. I've suggested that we get a falcon to chase them away, but at 50,000 UAD (+/- $15,000), I think it's slightly out of our budget....

The Honeymoon Roadtrip

Our Route….

Whoa – this is going to be a long one… we’ve just returned from a week-long drive through most of the UAE.

We decided before heading of that this trip would also be our honeymoon, finally, and so we wouldn’t worry about splashing out more than usual. It was great to have our little rented car and head out with a vague idea of a starting point, and no idea where we would head to from there and when we would be back. Time for a little adventure.

Day 1: We started from our hotel in Liwa (big yellow star) and took a winding desert road on to Hameem. On each side, there was nothing but sand, and small towns, each with its own white domed mosque. We stopped before Hameem at a tiny tiny tiny place, made up of a general store and what seemed to be an abandoned hut. From the windows behind the store, two ladies waved and giggled at us.

On to Hameem, which was nothing more than a small gas station. The next road, heading north towards Abu Dhabi is a single lane track between dunes and dunes and dunes. We stopped once, in awe of a huge herd of camels striding along around a big black Bedouin tent. It was too far for us to get close, and besides, with the price of camels these days, the whole area was fenced off. Those weren’t the only camels we saw, gracefully gliding along, as camels do.

In these parts, our road map proved mostly useless – partly because there was only one road, and partly because none of the names on the map matched any named on signs posted along the desert. Then again, there wasn’t much in the way of civilization.

Suddenly, we came upon a line of trucks going the opposite direction on a road that ran parallel to ours. What were these dozens of massive trucks doing out here, each one filled to capacity? We were driving past the country’s largest dump! All day, every day, every minute, huge overflowing trucks make their way there, dumping their payloads and returning to Abu Dhabi for more. There were new trucks arriving by the minute, and a lineup all the way to Abu Dhabi. With no recycling program here, and with everyone drinking bottled water, for example, it was a very sobering view of the dark side of progress.

Across from this line of trucks was a huge artificial pyramid (small blue star) and the home of the so-called Rainbow Sheik’s car museum. It’s really more like his personal car collection of 250+ cars (with another 160 arriving in a month or so), including 2 Rolls Royces, several rainbow coloured Mercedes Benzes (some even sporting gold bumpers and wipers), a few military vehicles, a rocket car and the world’s biggest monster truck, which is really more of a house on wheels. The truck comes complete with two trailers, both three stories tall, one the shape of the globe, the other housing five bedrooms, a kitchen, lounge and a few other rooms. Everything else in the complex was either abandoned, crumbling or still being built, and pretty much empty. He (Sheik Hamad) is a cousin in the royal family and should be commended, perhaps, for attempting to build some sort of tourist attraction out here in the Western zone. The man collects cars like other people collect stamps.

On the road again, and heading off to Al Ain (orange star), and my step-sister Michelle’s house, where we would stay for the next 2 nights with her husband and 2 adorable daughters.
We were taken on a quick tour through Al Ain by Michelle on the way through to a more traditional supper of lamb and or chicken shwarmas. She showed us the market place which is similar to markets in a lot of countries with many of the same things on sale from competing stalls. Of course each country has its own special blend of things sold. Here there is plenty of brightly coloured material, couches, thrones, bedspreads… anything that can conceivably be lined with frills, trimmed with gold, and scattered with sequins, is (which of course Virginia loves).

There are plenty of religious icons, and then things which have symbols which seem to abound here, and are seen all over on roads, fences, walls and doors – the falcon, the cofeepot, palm trees, various fruits and above all, everything camel. The sellers are Arabic, from all over, often with big beards, and heads wrapped in all sorts of different ways (I’m guessing we’ll start to be able to tell which countries people are from just by their head-dress and dishdashas soon enough), or they tend to be Indian, Pakistani or from countries in that area.

Of course there are the shisha-pipe shops, and our final stop for the night was at one of these, where were offered tea and shown all assortment of smokables.

Day 2: With Michelle as a tour guide, and the girls (Lana and Aisha) as our in-house entertainment, we went off to tour Al Ain. Our first stop was the Al Ain Palace Museum, where the royal family had lived many years ago. The girls made our visit much more fun, especially in the dress-up room and by converting the covers of pots of dates into gigantic fun hats. Once again, we pretty much had the place to ourselves, except when a Korean tour group came through (at which point we busted out the Korean, and posed for a photo with a lady who came from Mokpo!). From there, we drove through the indescribably beautiful Al Ain oasis – a winding track between a jumble of palm trees – I have never seen anything like it, and on to the live goat market, where trucks full of goats were parked side by side, and Arab men straightened up and smiled as soon as they saw Ty’s camera. It’s funny how so many of our misconceptions of the “evil Arabs” have been undone in such a short time. This country is filled with people from all over, and generally whether they are from here or not, everyone is free with a smile or a nod or some kind gesture.

On then, to the Al Ain mall, where I happily shopped in stores full of long skirts, where even the “medium” size was sometimes too big. What a difference from the mini-sizes of Korea. As someone who loves long skirts (and Randi, I’ve been wearing your brown skirt all the time here) and scarves, I think I’ve found my place.

We decided once we’d arrived back at Michelle and Scott’s place that we had some time to kill before heading off to for an evening drive to the nearby Jebel Hafeet, so we headed back to the Shisha-shop from the night before to take the Iranian shopkeeper up on his offer to sit down to some tea. It turned into a cultural experience of its own, as he told us how this tea, with loads of sugar added to the pot was the Emirati way of doing things, while in Iran, they would never add the sugar directly, but instead dip lumps of sugar into the tea and eat it as a treat.

He also told us how after waiting ten years for his wife to have children, she’s suddenly born quadruplets, and proceeded to proudly show us clips on his phone of his children playing. Then he showed us clips of a night he and his friends had had in the back of his store, playing music, he on the drums, another man on a crazy flute, and the rest of the room clapping, stomping feet and dancing as the music picked up pace.

He showed us his assortment of barrels of homemade tobaccos, from strawberry, to coffee to grape. Virginia bought me a beautiful wooden pipe, with some coffee tobacco to match.
Before sunset we drove a short way to Jebel Hafeet, which is the tallest of the mountains in Al Ain. The road up is steep and winding, and offers spectacular views from changing angles and directions. At the summit is a wonderful hotel with a 360 degree view of the area. From there we could look out across the rolling dunes in one direction, Al Ain in another, and the long straight road disappearing into the distance toward Dubai. Of course with this view, the sunset was beautiful. We stood and watched quietly as the sky changed and changed again over the dunes. The way back down in the dark, offered the same views of the town all lit up.

Day 3: On Michelle and Scott’s recommendation, we’d booked a special deal with one of the beach resorts around Fujeirah. Hugging the Omani border (we can’t cross to Oman until our work/residence visas come through), we drove along, once again through alien landscapes of sand and rock. There were less dunes here, and more jebels (rocky outcroppings), and less fences to keep the camels off the roads. We stopped at one point to take a few photos and were a bit freaked out when a camel calmly wandered across the road, oblivious to the speeding traffic, in that calm zen-like way that camels walk.

From a distance, we could see rocky brown mountains approaching – photos don’t do them justice – it was really like driving through Mars or something. We edged along hairpin mountain roads until we reached the sea.

Fujeirah, like the rest of the country, seems to be in the process of being built. There was a crane, a collection of half-built sky-scrapers, and not much else. We drove north, towards Dibba, with the mountains on one side and the Indian Ocean on the other, until we reached our luxury hotel resort (http://www.rotana.com/property-13.htm) – small purple star, and decided that this was officially our honeymoon (a month after our wedding in Korea), and time to spoil ourselves (taking advantage of a lot of special prices though – we aren’t crazy enough or rich enough to pay full price on any of these places yet). We took full advantage of our private balcony, with views on the ocean, and I made sure to take all the l’Occitane bathroom products with me when we checked out….

After a quick wander on the beach, we treated ourselves to an amazing seafood supper on the terrace of the a la carte restaurant, complete with a small noisy cat who insisted on cuddling up on my lap, purring as we fed him bits of rather expensive fish.

Returning to the room, we were happily surprised to find it had been decorated in true honeymoon style – fresh flower arrangements and rose petals all over the bed.

Day 4: We woke up to another blue sky day and another breakfast buffet. Off then, to the beach, to loll around on loungers and wander off to the sea to cool off between cocktails. It’s quite something to be sitting under a thatched umbrella, with a lady in a bikini on one side and a lady in a full-on burqa on the other, but that’s the way it’s done here. The Emirati women lounge in their abayas, not even looking at the ex-pat ladies who are barely covered. We took a break from the beach for a quick snorkeling trip. As I didn’t have my contact lenses, I didn’t get a full view of all the underwater life, but Ty did. I quite enjoyed floating on my back, watching the sun set behind the mountains and just enjoying the experience.

I think we’ll have to head back here for some actual diving. While Virginia was checking out the sunset, I was diving as deep as I could on one breath. There were loads of different fish. At one point I looked around and was in a school of two or three thousand fish, and could barely see the surface, because the fish were packed so tightly together.

The night was quite cool – surprisingly so – and we decided to eat supper indoors. To our surprise, we ended up on the biggest supper buffet either of us has ever seen. After three full supper plates, and 2 dessert plates, we rolled back to our room to groan and laugh at our ever-expanding buffet bellies.

Day 5: Off again, up to Dibba, and once again hugging the Omani border through sparse mountains that framed blue seas. Oman and the UAE co-exist, crossing into each other along the coasts…. Kind of a strange arrangement, where some cities straddle the border. We continued on to the middle of nowhere, and our next hotel (and next deal), the Khatt Springs Spa – small pink star. Except for the giant castle-like hotel tower, the town boasted nothing aside from some bold goats wandering the streets. We had decided, as it was our honeymoon, to treat ourselves to some spa services. Although we were separated into different sides of the spa, we had both opted for the same treatment: a salt and oil scrub, followed by a crazy chromo-therapy bath (a Jacuzzi with different glowy lights) and a massage, followed by ear-candling. After our three hour treatment, we both felt completely relaxed, and with much cleaner ears than before.

Another supper buffet, smaller than the night before, but with the added bonus of some musical, uh, entertainment in the form of two Southeast Asian ladies who mumbled and wailed their way through a selection of songs. We were convinced that their song sheets were made up of nothing but vowels and Ws… We have been serenading each other with wahwah we wuv you songs ever since, to fits of giggles.

Day 6: Leaving Khatt Springs, we started off for our final luxury hotel experience at the Al Hamra Beach Resort in Ras al-Khaimah – light blue star. As we were heading out, we passed a young sheik, being escorted through the lobby flanked by one bodyguard, while another scouted around for hidden dangers (in the flower arrangements perhaps?).

With the idea of a scenic coastal drive, we headed north up the coast towards the Omani border crossing and were disappointed to find that instead of mountains plunging into the crystal sea, we were treated to a series of cement factories and refineries with massive trucks driving around. At one point, we wandered off the highway, into a small crumbling village that boasted more goats than people, with each doorway decorated and painted with elaborate designs. Not knowing what the reaction of the people there might be, we decided not to take any photos and headed back down the coast, through the uninspiring city of Ras al-Khaimah and on to our hotel.

As with several other places, the Al-Hamra resort is in the process of being made bigger and better, with no less than 10 more towers being added to it. We were happy to end up in a villa-style room, with a private balcony that faced away from most of the construction. We spent an afternoon at the mostly-empty beach. The water on this side was far colder than the Indian Ocean side, keeping us from dipping more than our toes in. Every inch of the beach, however, was covered in beautiful shells – relics, perhaps, from the UAE’s history of pearl farming.

Heading back to our room, we stopped by a small shop in the lobby to fondle the Persian carpets that were on sale (the shop clerk tried valiantly to get us to buy a 12,000 dirham carpet – about $4,000 CDN or 24,000 Rand – featuring 120 knots per inch…)

Day 7: Another day, another breakfast buffet…. And a long drive from Ras al-Khaimah, through Dubai and back to Liwa. Our adventure was not yet over. Confused by the highway signs, and with a thwarted attempt to stop at the Global Village shopping/amusement park (only open from 4pm to 1am? What’s with that???), we found ourselves in downtown Dubai, driving past the Burj Dubai, which is going to be the tallest building in the world, at nearly a kilometer tall. It’s pretty amazing how this one skyscraper can make all the other tall buildings around it seem absolutely tiny in comparison.

We tried to exit for the Mall of the Emirates to see that indoor ski-hill, but missed it, then tried to exit for a gas station (as our bladders were bursting) and ended up instead on one of the famous artificial islands shaped like a palm tree…. There are several of these islands – 2 palm trees, an incomplete map of the world, and more to come: one in the shape of “the universe”, a few flowers, and another palm style – if the economy holds out, that is. We kept driving until we reached the Atlantis hotel at the very end. We convinced a guard to let us into the ultra-posh hotel, just to use the bathroom, you know, nothing else…. And ended up walking around the immense lobby, and down a few of the Louvre-like hallways, all decorated with glass sculptures and gold leaf. Down one immense hallway, past the Harry Winston diamond store, and the Rolex shop, we were faced with a huge 15-metre high aquarium, filled with a variety of fish, rays and sharks, including a (controversial) baby whale shark. I’d seen pictures of this aquarium online, and was quite beside myself to find myself in front of it, and all purely by accident (and by sneaking into the “guests only” part of the hotel.) Read about it and take a look at a few photos here: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1060285/Pictured-Inside-800m-Dubai-hotel-boasting-13-000-night-suite-dolphins-flown-South-Pacific.html
Yes, we took a bunch of pics next to that huge blue and yellow glass sculpture in the lobby. No, we weren’t brave enough to stop in any of the restaurants or even enquire about one of the super expensive rooms….

Our mini-stop through Dubai marked the end of our little road trip. From there, it was straight on through to Abu Dhabi, then to Madinat Zayed (we stopped to visit the cats, who are preferring Paul’s hospitality to us) and back to the Liwa hotel.

During our drive through Dubai, we got some good news: the office in Abu Dhabi called us to tell us that a villa had opened up in Madinat Zayed. We’ll be seeing it tomorrow (as I think it needs a few repairs), but perhaps in a week or two, we will be moving into our new house! This is quite exciting as we’d heard a few stories of people “living” for up to 5 months in the Liwa hotel, waiting for accommodation to come free.

The First Ten Days

Has it really only been ten days?

As the saying goes, a journey of a million miles starts with one step, and our first step was to get two big suitcases, two backpacks, a few bits and pieces and two howling cats onto the KTX (Korean Express Train) for our last 300km/h trip to Seoul. Once on board, Jakob (our big orange cat) decided that the cage was too boring for him, and it would be far more interesting to look out the window at the rice paddies and houses going past. This was to the chagrin of the employees who asked us a few times to put him back in his cage.

Dropping the cats off at their “cat hotel” ended up taking the better part of the afternoon… and yes, it was a “cat hotel”, complete with cubby holes and ledges to play on. Both cats reacted by freaking the hell out, which didn’t make our goodbyes to them easy at all – my mental scenarios included random cat attacks in airports, leading to the escape of both felines somewhere in Hong Kong or something (and my job was to coo and reassure that everything would be A-OK). It was completely uncalled for, as both cats are now safely in a friend’s apartment in the UAE…. But still…. You know, saying goodbye to a hissing, drooling, growling cat, with the hopes that other people will get him on the right plane???

On our way to the airport, we had enough time to do a bit of shopping. Ty had his eye on a certain kind of camera (Nikon D90), and insisted that he would only go to Abu Dhabi if he had the afore-mentioned camera in his possession. (And good thing I did… I pass my days at the moment by practicing the well known sport of dune photography) Annnnyway, with me playing the role of the frowning wife, the price dropped and the final package included a handsome bag and a cleaning kit or something (HEY!… once Virginia came into the shop AFTER the bargaining ended… she was frowning… but more because I wanted to spend WHAT on a camera. I think she is mildly disappointed that it can’t make coffee, and does not predict the next winner of America’s Next Top Model )

We arrived at the airport without much fuss, and waited for the check-in counter to open. For whatever reason, the airline decided to weigh our carry-on. I mean, really, who weighs carry on bags?????????????? As we were way over the limit on that, there was a bit of a kerfuffle as one manager after another was called over to frown and shrug at our situation (keep in mind that we had a guitar too). Finally, I did what any self-respecting woman of the 21st century should do and burst into tears…. We got a better deal, but ended up paying to send one of our bags anyway.

The flight was pretty awesome, with Ty playing with his camera (and we have about 20 photos of airplane seats to prove it) and me rejoicing over the lack of hidden ham in any food served on Qatar Airlines (how would you know?… you were snoring up a storm while I was testing the new camera).

After a short stopover (and stock-up of “essentials” in Duty Free), we arrived in Abu Dhabi. The airport arrivals terminal is built to look like a gigantic blue pumpkin tent thing on the inside and is quite the sight after 30+ hours of travel. Everything was running smoothly, and we were up at the immigration desks, getting our passports stamped when….

Virginia got through to the other side and waited. I saw her face becoming questioning when the person at immigration ran through my passport a second time. I was dying just to get to our hotel, and climb into bed as I’d not managed to have any meaningful sleep on the plane. I handed over the printed visa slip that Emirates Airlines had ripped me off for before leaving Korea. The Gutra-ed man frowned and tried my passport number one more time. “No” they kept saying and pointed behind them toward the iris scanning section. Before I left them I was told that I might have to go back home to South Africa (this was when I started panicking… But smiled at Virginia as if to say that everything was fine and I’d only be a minute)

Anyway, after scanning and fingerprinting, and being glared at by other suspected criminal elements (I assume) they took me back to the immigration desk. Everyone still seemed unsure, but finally they reread my passport number… turns out that the first few times it had been read, the other person had misheard… REALLY! Yay, I’m through…

No sooner had I joined V, smiling, when I got yanked aside to the luggage section. A very nice veiled woman started asking what I had in my luggage. Clothes, socks… could these be offensive... maybe the CDs are causing a problem? Ah… yes she says… maybe that (I refrained from saying that I had a bomb strapped around my waist, and had stolen the fountain from the entrance to the airport, oh and had also taken the little travel toothbrush from the plane)

This woman was replaced by several people who randomly proceeded to empty bits of my possessions all over the counter, before simply wandering away. Not a good start… treated like a common terrorist. And so begin my cultural lessons again. I like having stereotypes broken… and now know what it feels like now to be singled out at an airport just because you look wrong, or are from a different country. Getting rid of all those cartoonesk stereotypes, and replacing them with real experiences with people. It’s one of the better reasons to travel. It did not start all that well. That tired morning… well Arabs seemed just plain mean. It’s not true I know, and I’ve met beautiful people ever since… but for one tired morning I was willing to let it be an excuse to let loose on the emotions of moving, of leaving good friends in Korea, and of being in an uncertain new world. It would all look different after some sleep, I thought, and it did.

Meanwhile, I was re-communing with being back in the Middle East. Each man with a red-checked goutra (headscarf) was glorious. Each lady veiled in a black abaya (outer cape-like thing) or sheyla (headscarf) was beautiful. Our driver packed us (me giddy, Ty glum) into a taxi, as I exclaimed at the blue sky, pointed at every palm tree, and generally grew happier about being in the UAE, and drove us off to our hotel, our home for the next few days in Abu Dhabi.

The hotel (One to One Village) was lost in a newly-built area, just off the main drag. The bathroom was the same size as our Korean apartment, and the bed was a dreamily massive slice of heaven, which Ty curled up immediately on, after declaring that he hated the UAE and would leave at a moment’s notice if anyone tried to look in his bags ever again (Oh she does exaggerate sometimes... but this is pretty close to how I was feeling that afternoon)

Right.

That evening, we met up with my step-sister and her family. It had been roughly 18 years since I’d seen Michelle, and she and her husband had been in the Mid East for the past 5 years. She was the one who had sent me the information on how to score a job here, and they did wonders for our morale. We met up in a huge shopping centre – one of many in Abu Dhabi – then headed up to a popular burger restaurant for supper. The portion sizes were insane, and it was the perfect meal (and the perfect company) to bring us out of our funk. After supper, we went to the strangely named “Lulu’s Hypermarket”, which was a treat and a half for everyone. Lulu’s is a grocery store, and it’s huge (as is everything here). There were no less than 5 aisles of cheese and just about every kind of food product that one could ever dream to have. After our time in Korea, we were literally skipping up the aisles, pointing and giggling at the choice – all the while promising to send care packages to our friends in Korea (I do believe that everyone thought we were mad as we, so jolly, bounced up and down the aisles like children).

After a good night’s sleep in our incredibly amazing hotel, and an equally incredibly amazing breakfast buffet, we were off to explore Abu Dhabi as tourists.

Our first stop – the American Vet Clinic – is perhaps not the first place most tourists go when in Abu Dhabi, but an absolute necessity for us, as my credit card had been flagged for being used simultaneously in Korea and Abu Dhabi and had decided to stop working. Ahhh, no shopping for me for a while. Anyway, Mustafa, our cat import guy, ended up being the first in a long line of new acquaintances here who have proven themselves to be over-the-top friendly and helpful.

Continuing on, we headed to Abu Dhabi’s famous “Corniche” area, which is a beachfront area of huge buildings and hotels on the Arabian Gulf. After relaxing in the sand, and dipping our toes in the ocean, we decided to venture out to the Breakwater (we were following an indispensable guidebook from my Mom) to check out the Heritage Village, and yet another shopping mall (with an IKEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Abu Dhabi is a very pretty city – it’s green and wonderful with beautiful buildings. I’d compare it easily with a place like Singapore, albeit on a smaller scale. After the pollution of Seoul, it was a very welcome change.

The one thing that we have both noticed is that everywhere here smells amazing. Shops are scented, restaurants all beckon with fantastic spices from countries all over the world, but the real wonder is that the air outside and all around Abu Dhabi smells, not just clean, but sweet.

Once on the Breakwater, just past the over-zealous tribute to conspicuous consumption known as the Emirates Palace Hotel, we found ourselves at the Heritage Village, a small touristy look at traditional (think pre-discovery of oil) life in the UAE. We got to pet a camel and chat with an Arabian horse, before trying on some traditional clothes (Ty looks *very* nice in a dishdasha – the long white dress thing that the men wear… and V looked gorgeous in the abaya-like dress she pulled on). Wandering up towards a large mosque (near what was the tallest flagpole in the world before Jordan went and built a three meter bigger one… I won’t comment here on men and their flagpoles… HEY!… It was huge though), we were suddenly surrounded by friendly, skinny, mewling cats. Yes, they ignored everyone else, and came running over to us. Our evening was rounded out by a visit to the Marina mall (yes yes yes IKEA!!!) and an amazing Iranian supper that filled us both to bursting. So far, we aren’t missing Korean food at all.

As a relatively young, and yes, developing nation, the UAE owes much of its prosperity and advancement to the forward-thinking economic and educational policies of Sheikh Zayed, who died in 2002 (his son is now in charge). He and his two eldest?? sons’ pictures can be seen everywhere – on billboards, posters, walls, schools… from just about everywhere, they look down on their citizens like some sort of benevolent father-figures. Iconic images of leaders can be found in just about every country, but somehow here, they just seem kind of… well… friendly. They are smiling or waving, and the citizens here, both Emirati and non-Gulf Arab, all seem to genuinely love and respect these guys.

It really was quite amazing to look up at the buildings in Abu Dhabi, the sheer prosperity of this place, and realize that less than 40 years ago there was not a tarred road in the country. Oil helped, but the benevolent man in the posters seems to deserve the respect he gained in his thirty-odd years of rule. I’ll save the history lesson for another time though.

By Thursday, we were starting to feel a bit like freeloaders (me more so as V’s company has been looking after me as spouse, and so I REALLY don’t feel I deserve all this). So far, we’d had our flights and our luxurious hotel covered, I’d received my mobile phone (in an envelope at the hotel reception) and we’d done little more than tour around and eat ourselves silly. Fortunately, Thursday was the day that we’d be leaving Abu Dhabi and finally head out to the Western Zone, to our new home of Madinat Zayed (aka Beda Zayed). First, though, I had to attend a meeting with my new employers and then be handed a pile of cash (well… yes… it was my settlement allowance, coupled with my furniture allowance, and in the absence of a bank account, I ended up with an envelope of bills). But wait… there’s more…. As our apartment in Beda Zayed is not yet available to us, we are being housed until further notice in the Liwa Hotel, a 4-star resort on the edge of the so-called “Empty Quarter” – the big desert that makes up most of the Arabian peninsula.

The next day, Friday, was the first day of the weekend (Fri and Sat), but the day started quite early as I, still slightly jet-laggy, awoke before dawn and wandered out onto our desert-view balcony to be faced with FOG. Thick thick fog that made us feel a bit like we’d hit the end of the world. Dragging Ty out of bed, we stood there, staring at the fog, listening to the sounds of distant chickens, and wondering, really, how we had managed to find ourselves here. After breakfast, and as the fog lifted, we decided to explore our new home, discovering the gym, the huge heated pool, and the expanse of gardens to be quite to our liking. Wandering off the grounds of the hotel, we suddenly found ourselves on the dunes. Kicking off our shoes, we ran, rolled and generally played in the soft orange sand until we got a bit too thirsty (it is quite dry out here) to continue.

The Liwa Hotel is about 65km from MZ, but seems to be a popular spot for ex-pats looking for exercise (at the hotel gym, or in the pool) and booze – you can drink here. That afternoon, we ended up meeting a lot of people who work for CfBT in MZ, some of whom were in the same situation as we are now (i.e. living at the Liwa for anywhere from 6 weeks to 3 months) when they first arrived.

On Saturday, one of my colleagues, Sharon, picked us up and drove us around MZ, giving me a tour of my new school, and showing us where we would eventually be living. As with everyone here, we’ve been blown away by how friendly and generous everyone has been with us. One of our stops that day was the local Co-op grocery store (why am I so obsessed with groceries??? Must be post-Korea stress disorder or something), which is not as monumentally amazing as Lulu’s, but still carries more of a variety of food that we actually enjoy than even Homeplus in Mokpo did. MZ reminds me a lot of where I lived in Quebec, La Pocatiere – it’s a smaller town, about an hour and a half from a big city, a place where everyone knows each other and where the schools seem to be the biggest buildings.

I think we’re going to try to wind this up – it’s been an overwhelming new experience for both of us. One last thing, though – both of us are now living slightly different realities during the week.

Virginia’s Day:
I get up before 6am, and listen to the call to prayer as it echoes from two different mosques. It’s generally still dark out, which makes it very very eerie… anyway, once I get ready, I head down to the daily breakfast buffet where I might be the only person sampling the fresh yogurt, selection of fruit and muesli, hummus, vegetables and big chunk of bleu cheese (that I am determined to finish before I leave). The very attentive wait staff will go so far as to put the milk in my coffee for me (“Milk for you, Madam?”). As Liwa is far from MZ, I have a taxi that picks me up every day. My driver, Nawaf, is a big scary looking Pakistani man who has a sense of humour to match his size. He’s absolutely hilarious, and is apparently a good person to know, as he seems to be well-connected in town.
My school is very big and staffed exclusively by women. If a man enters the building, everyone starts pulling veils over their faces. This seems to contradict the brashness of these women. They are mostly non-Emirati (from Yemen, Jordan, Syria, etc) and once I get the hang of the different veil styles, I should be able to identify where someone is from based solely on their abaya and shayla (i.e. plain black vs blinged up with silver fringes).
One of my first experiences at school was being pulled into the VP’s office. Dibaba is the daughter of the main sheikh in these parts and an absolute character. She wears very tight and very colourful clothes, and enough makeup for a truckload of drag queens. Her office is kept perfumed with burning incense and her coffee pot is always well-stocked by her personal servants (!!!). On that first day, politely smiling at the collection of women who were quizzing me on why I didn’t have children and where I had lived before and did I eat pork, Dibaba decided that, as a newlywed, I needed a gift. The next day she called me back to her office and into her private ensuite bathroom. I was handed a bag of clothes and sent off to change. The bag contained a black silk slip, a purple flowered dress embroidered with gold and silver thread and my own sheyla. Dibaba, assisted by her servant, infused all my new clothes with a bowl of burning incense wood, then sprayed me liberally with perfume, before telling me to wear more makeup (I’m already wearing more makeup every day than I have in a long time….) I guess this means she likes me or something… My friend Paul (who is currently babysitting Jakob and Sonagi along with his other 4 cats) told me that it’s a traditional way for Dibaba to welcome me to the school, while showing herself to be a good and generous Bedouin woman.
Anyway, my real job consists of working with 5 Arab English teachers who have been given a new curriculum and textbook, and a new way of giving exams, and who need outside guidance to get on track with what the Ministry of Education and the Education Council (two different entities, run by different parts of government) are telling them to do in class. It’s an office job, but I’m going to find ways to get myself into the classroom as much as I can. So far, it’s a lot of meetings, paperwork and just getting to know the ropes. After Korea, and a work day that consisted of more Facebooking than actual teaching, it’s really been a shock to the system.
The great thing, however, is that the work day only goes until 2 or 2:30pm, meaning that I make it home by 3 and have a full evening to spend with Ty back at the hotel, walking on the dunes, chilling by the pool or watching satellite TV. Yeah, I guess things could be a lot worse!!!

Ty’s Day
Yes they could be a whole lot worse. I know what you are all thinking at the moment… “I don’t envy that poor Tyrone one bit”

I have to wake up, at some stage (okay, I’m trying my best to get downstairs and spend breakfast with V, which… well, all I can say is that I’m not particularly missing kimchi at the moment).
And I’m sure you all pity us terribly, what with the kind, friendly and insanely over the top service around here. Virginia and I have, from the very first, been sort of uncomfortable with it all. It starts with me picking up bags and trying to help the porter carry them back at the One-2-One (they don’t take kindly to that in these parts) to having our bags packed at the shops… to Virginia trying to clean off a table after we finished eating at a restaurant, and getting moaned at… to, finally, when we thought we’d could see nothing higher in service in general, the waiter at the Liwa hotel actually taking the bottle of tomato sauce from my hand and offering ever so politely to shake it for me. I didn’t quite know what to do but to, embarrassed as anything, hand it over and let him get on with it.

Anyway my days at the Liwa at the moment include such interesting pastimes as eating breakfast, lunch and supper, taking long walks through the desert dunes, taking photos of the dunes, rolling down the dunes, and sometimes just looking at the dunes.

As the cost of washing a pair of underwear here could instead be used to, say, feed a small village, I’ve also been privileged to learn the awesomeness of washing everything by hand, and to appreciate the fact that grandmothers everywhere probably did this while looking after hoards of children and some of them without room service to prepare meals for them.

Overall though, I’m quite enjoying having a bit of a holiday after the last few months of intense business. At the moment I cannot work (and won’t be able to for a couple months, until the appropriate visas come through) and have been doing all I can to keep myself busy (the hotel is empty most of the day… think the Shining). I’ve been meeting all kinds of lovely people from everywhere, though only by chatting to the staff around here, and the people that are working in Beda Zayed with V.

I will be dying to get out of here soon into our new home, and moving on with life again, I am sure, but for the moment it is not all that terrible (:-D) to spend the day reading at the pool, and brushing up on my rusty Arabic (okay, lets rather say, adding to my so far 2 word vocabulary).

It’s also wonderful, although Virginia is already going into work, that we still have most of the afternoon together. And just to top it all off… Virginia is on holiday from this coming Thursday. So the rest of the time here I’m trying to put together some plans for a roadtrip to some fun places in the desert, the sea, and the coastal mountains.

This has been an unusual, exciting and incredible way to start a marriage. The two of us are having a ball.