Khor Fakkan, Part 2

The beauty and freedom of our diving experience came with a price, unfortunately: We had a long day of driving ahead of us on Sunday. We decided to drive down the coast to Khor Kalba, then through the mountains to Hatta, where we’d heard there were some interesting things to see.

The mountains out here are a bit like the surface of the moon. Sparse trees (apparently some of them are frankincense) dot a landscape that is completely desolate. Jagged rocks like dragon teeth jut out of the sand…

...and through this, a winding road takes you through surprisingly new and clean towns that are springing up along the way.

You really feel like you’re the only person out here – especially if, like us, you turn off the main road. Driving along, we met up with a herd of donkeys and, just a few hundred metres later, a herd of very pretty goats.

It’s quite amazing that, for such a small country, the landscape seems to change every few kilometers….. even the sand changes colour! Our drive, which took us from Khor Fakkan to Hatta, through to Madam, to Hayer, towards Sweihan, past Abu Dhabi and back to Madinat Zayed meant that we saw everything from farmland to mountains, to sand dunes (red, orange, yellow, grey – each area has its own sand colour, it seems), and all this in a 600km drive.

Hatta is, like Liwa, a town built around its forts. There are, apparently, cave pools (only accessible by 4x4) and archaeological digs as well to see, but we only had time for a quick stop in at the Heritage Village (it does seem like every single town here has its own Heritage Village), which had been modified with added (false) walls for some sort of a TV show. We didn’t see anything much happening but, as it was the middle of the (hot) afternoon, no sane person was wandering around outside.

We, being insane, walked up to one of the restored towers where we could truly appreciate the area and stood there enjoying the eagle eye view we had of the neighbouring farms.

On then, through a tiny bit of Oman (where I, being silly said, “Let’s stop at the next roadside shack selling clay pots”, without realizing that it was the last one, and so ended up not feeding my need for pottery things to stack in corners and/or be smashed by the cats), and on through a sandy desert, where one may wish to rent one of these charming homes.

I suppose that if you want to live in a roof-less cinder block shack in the middle of nowhere, you can just call that number – remember the country code for the UAE is 971.

Too much construction and too many highway detours made for a longer drive than usual, but we found that people were super friendly and ready to give us directions in perfect English (How is it that some Indian guy in a ramshackle grocery store in the middle of a desert village can speak better English than just about any other place in the world?), as we wound our way back home.

In another two weeks, we will be arriving in Canada and, inshallah, enjoying a few more roadtrips, albeit with slightly different scenery! And, speaking of Canada – Happy Canada Day!!! I boiled up some maple syrup and made some experimental maple candies to celebrate. As almost the only Canadian out here, though, there will be no party, really, this year.

Khor Fakkan, Part 1

In celebration of 6 months of wedded bliss, we decided to take a mini-break weekend and finally go scuba diving in Khor Fakkan.

Khor Fakkan should be the name of a heavy metal band – I mean, just try saying it in a deep spooky voice while smashing a guitar – but it’s actually a small coastal city on the Gulf of Oman. We’d driven through it in January, and had pretty much decided then that it deserved a closer look.

Judging from the map, it seemed like the easiest way to get to KF was to drive through a sliver of Oman. We figured, incorrectly, that all we’d have to do would be to wave our passports at the border guards and drive on through. And we did drive through a bit of Oman (quite a lovely place, actually), until the expense of having to get a visa and extra car insurance sent us back to the UAE to drive through some rather twisty mountain roads at night.

Our first day of diving started easily with a bit of lazing around on the white sandy beach and a quick dip in the crystal blue water (I think we’ll eventually get tired of our beach hotels…) before getting ourselves kitted out. Once we had our equipment, we hopped on the boat and sped out to our first dive site, Martini Rock, which we were told would be like “swimming in an aquarium”. Just having survived some of the worst red tides in recent history, the oceanic ecosystem around the Gulf of Oman is just starting to bounce back again.

pics from the hotel beach - the pointy rock in the distance of the 1st photo is Shark Island

It was great to be diving – For the record, I’ve decided that I can only dive in tropical oceans, when surrounded by pretty fishies – and with an excellent dive club (Divers Down) that was staffed by professional, efficient and super friendly people. So, yeah, highly recommended and we’ll definitely be going with them again.

For the first time ever, we were allowed to go off on our own, instead of following a Dive Master around. This was a big first for both of us, and such a lovely way to dive. Suddenly, you become aware of exactly where you are and how you need to navigate; you get more responsible with checking your air, and communicating with your buddy to decide which way to go, and whether plans made above the surface need to change or not. Martini Rock is great because you basically swim around a central rock formation, looking in crevices for little cuttlefish, boxfish, big puffer fish and a whole host of others, like snappers, triggerfish, and a few eels.

The next dive, to Shark Island (Yes, there are sharks that pass by here, but no sharks at this time of year), brought us a new adventure as we had to navigate for ourselves into very shallow water (only about 2 m deep at some points – strange to be that close to the surface) and be picked up by the boat. We kept our eyes open for turtles, but were out of luck, instead finding a patch of hard coral, where we saw a few clownfish amongst the anemones growing there.

We had enough time for a snack before heading back for our NIGHT DIVE. I’ve had chances to do night dives before but had never felt comfortable enough. It’s a bit daunting, isn’t it? There’s the whole being-under-the-water thing, which is enough to freak most people out…. And then there’s the plunge-into-darkness, what-if-the-leviathan-comes-and-eats-me thing.

Luckily, we had a guide for this dive. Paul, one of the owners, was coming down with us to guide us around the wreck (ooooh, did I mention that it was a NIGHT DIVE on a WRECK?). He was great… very calm and clear and reassuring, and helped to make what could have been a scary experience into something absolutely magical.

Once we’d gotten to the bottom, we knelt in the sand and Paul signaled to us to shut off our flashlights. Now, we were 20 m down, in the dark, next to the algae-covered hull of a boat, and it was DARK…

As our eyes were adjusting to the pitch black surrounding us, Paul started moving his hands about. Phosphorescence swirled from his fingertips, and from ours as we joined in. Underwater phosphorescence is almost indescribable. Small glowing balls – like fireflies – swirl away from your fingers, hair, air bubbles, and float up. It’s quite amazing.

Suddenly, our spooky trip in the dark had become a sort of private fairy land.

We spent the next 20 minutes or so exploring over the wreck, with Ty following Paul through a hatchway at one point. There was so much sealife (I had been expecting sleeping fishies with little pillows), like crabs decorated up like birthday cakes, several green and blue eels, a big puffer fish, and a cuttlefish catching his supper (a thing shot out from his tentacles – it was like being on National Geographic or something).

Going back to the surface gave us more time to play with the phorphorescence as we jiggled the rope, swished our fins or snapped our fingers to make the little glowy specks dance.

The next day we had two more dives. The first was a return to Martini Rock, but this time with a strong current that we had to swim against. All the fish had schooled around the rock in a big clump, facing the current. They really just looked like those fish in Finding Nemo that make big arrows and stuff. It was tough going sometimes, and we came out of the water feeling a bit tired, but once again happy with all that we’d seen.

Our final dive was a murky plunge into the area known as Hole in the Wall. It’s so named because of a short open ended cavern that you can swim through – if you are brave enough. I wasn’t, and instead I went up over the top, where I could see everyone’s air bubbles coming up through the cracks in the rock. Ty went through, and ended up stabbing himself on one of the numerous urchins (it was a very urchiny dive). As we swam along through narrow passages between the rock formations, I spotted a few neat fish, including a stonefish (that I wasn’t allowed to hug, even though he looked very sad), a few more boxfish and one big silver guy who came out of nowhere, then disappeared.

I’m going to post this now, and write the rest (our drive back was pretty cool too) tomorrow….

Mabruuk habibi!!!* مبروك حبيبي*

Ty has been accepted to do his CELTA next year, starting October. This means he'll have to drive to Abu Dhabi three times a week over a few months, but the upside is that we will officially be a (very marketable) "teaching couple".... which just opens up more options for us down the road.

A big مبروك to Ty, حبيبي.

Last week, we had a rather large crowd over for a housewarming party. It was a great way to get to know people a bit better. Having spent so much time at the hotel, we are still feeling a bit like newcomers to the town in general.

Plans for Canada are coming along well too. We've got a lot of people to see, and I *am* nerdy enough to have made a big itinerary/calendar thing... Which I hope to finalize this weekend and then send it off!

*Congratulations, my love

Dubai getaway; Dune Bashing, Belly Dancing and More…

Chatting with Carolyn at a party she hosted a few weeks back, the two of us got onto the topic of dune-bashing, a pastime in the Emirates involving taking your 4X4 out into the desert and putting it through its paces in the dunes . As she is preparing to leave the country at the end of the school year (July) she was determined to get out onto the dunes before it was too late. I thought it a grand idea.

And so last weekend a few of us from Madinat Zayed (Virginia and I, and two other friends, Linda and Carolyn) headed off to Dubai for a more touristy foray into the world of the UAE.

After our last wonderful, and surrealistically beautiful stay near the Dubai Creek in Deira, Dubai we decided to stay there again and Virginia booked us into a classic looking hotel; overlooking the water this time!

I searched around a bit and found a highly rated package,a Desert Safari , that included not only the dune bashing, but also a load of extras. (Orient Tours, 4x4 Desert Safari, booked though Viator.com… for those interested).

We had a mostly uneventful four hour drive through to Deira other than a photo stop at the Burj Al Arab - the famed dhow shaped building - and another to get pictures of the Burj Dubai, which when completed will be the tallest building in the world; the dry docks along the coastal Jumeirah street offer a wonderful view of the skyline, which really emphasises just how tall the building is.

At the hotel we dropped off our bags at our rooms which were huge, and did indeed offer a spectacular view of the creek, freshened up and headed out for the main event of the evening… souqs, souqs, souqs.

Once again we headed across the creek in the wooden water taxis, zipping along, and hooting loudly when another boat would stray off course or seem t0 be even slightly in the path of danger. We stopped at a fantastic restaurant which fronts out over the water for our supper (king prawns for me… yum!) and then waltzed off into the din and bustle, the liveliness which is the essence of the souqs.

With everyone headed home for holidays there was a lot to buy, each purchase bringing with it a fresh round of lively bargaining. Spices and material traded hands. Clothing and an assortment of other brightly coloured odds and ends were whisked off shelves.

At one point Carolyn convinced a particularly jocular storekeeper to give her free socks by mistake. She had said to him that she wanted his oldest ugliest pair of socks, the type you trudge around in at home, and then just burn, as he’d just pulled out huge packs of socks that he was trying to sell for even huger amounts of money. At this his face fell as if he had just presented someone with his most beautiful daughter, but that that someone had instead insisted on leaving with his deaf bulldog. When Carolyn left with another purchase, he added to the pile a pair of socks, and perhaps misunderstanding, answered a definite “Yes!” when she asked if he’d worn them before.

At a shop a little further down the busy alley, while V, Linda and Carolyn were admiringly sorting through a mountain of pashminas, the young storekeeper caught my attention… and this part of the weekend still makes me smile to thing about.

His intention it turned out after deciphering much wiggling of his eyebrows, and animated motioning towards Virginia ,was to point out just how attractive he found her. When Virginia looked up he went back to a businesslike demeanour, helped her out, and as soon as she turned back, stepped over to chat.

I never did find out just how many camels he was willing to part with for the love of my life, only that they were very definitely on offer. While only slightly tempted to start the haggling (just to see what happened you understand), I politely refused the offer. Later on in the evening we bumped into him again, where he offered me a straight out trade for his wife.

With bags full of exciting presents, and still with a wife at my side (I should probably add my own lovely wife) we headed back across the creek. Big day the next day.

After breakfast we headed out to the souqs on this side of the creek, which are older, grubbier and infused with far more personality, and so I quite enjoy them. Having once again bargained our way through the morning, we stopped at the hotel for some coffee and to wait for the desert safari pickup.

At the restaurant we encountered a massive man from Bahrain wondering about the place, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, ghutra neatly in place (I am pretty convinced that Allah would not have particularly approved) He seated himself at our table, telling us that he’d been on the 10th floor of the hotel clubbing all night, and was pretty much still going. He also offered up his residence and hospitality in Bahrain, and to take us out in his speedboat if we visited. Just then four o’clock was approaching, along with our ride, and so we made plans to meet up the following day at breakfast. Sadly, we never saw him again (judging from the way he was going, he was very like sleeping off a devastating and persistent hangover around breakfast time the next morning).

As for us, we piled into the Land Cruiser which arrived promptly at the doors of the hotel, and headed out of Dubai towards Sharjah and then out into the desert. And it was thrilling.

The driver knew what he was doing, and so we quickly relaxed and began to enjoy the ride. Well I say relaxed… the three girls squealed and screamed with what I have to assume was terrified delight for the entire hour that we raced through the dunes. The only way to describe it really is as a sort of roller coaster ride, except that sand is flying everywhere (even over the top of the car), quite often you find are sliding sideways faster than you are moving forward, and every now and then you have to brace yourself as the 4x4 slides to a halt, six inches behind another Cruiser in the convoy whose tyre has just flown right off the rim.

When the thrilling bit was over, we pulled into a camp in the middle of the dunes. There we got to do a quick sunset camel ride. This was followed by sandboarding. Virginia was first and handled the board like a pro. I was quite surprised when I had my go that a) it was much easier than snowboarding, and b) you still fly down the slope at a speed.

All this was topped by a tasty Arabic buffet, followed shortly after by a woman whop took to the stage at the centre of the camp, and after bellydancing by herself for a while, involved us all in the festivities. Virginia and Carolyn were called up, and closely mimicked the dancer’s movements, keeping a steady rhythm. I ended up being called out of the audience alone, where what I did on stage was nothing like rhythmic, and probably looked less like dancing than a spasm of twitches beside the graceful flow of the bellydancer. It was wonderful.

As a kind of bonus to the day, from time to time we’d see photographers and a cameraman during the course of the tour, and at the end of the night a DVD was on sale with everything on it, including the bellydancing. This we promptly bought, but still have not had a chance to watch yet (I believe this is partly in fear of having to watch ourselves dancing).

On the Saturday we did some last minute souqing, and then headed to the Dubai museum which was the best we have been to in the UAE so far… and also where I’ll leave you with Virginia for a second…

When we lived in Saudi Arabia, my family went on a short trip to Dubai. I was about 7 years old, and although I don’t remember much of that trip, I know that there are a few photos from that time that have stuck in my mind. One is of me sitting on one of the wooden taxi-boats that cross the canal. The other is of me sitting on a cannon in front of the Dubai museum. And so… 27 years later, I got to re-enact that famous (well, for my memory anyway) photo. Mom, this is for you:

…I’m back. Well I know it’s been a while since the last post but I hope it was worth the wait. There will also be an update on the house warming coming soon, and some photographs of how the flat is coming along.

One last news update… I applied to do a CELTA teaching course later this year, and did an interview for it on Thursday. I’ll know sometime this week whether I made it in or not… There are only twelve spots on the course so cross fingers and hold thumbs for me.

Soooo....

... I got sick of people from Abu Dhabi looking down their noses at us for living out in the sticks, and/or complaining about the long and terrible drive from AD to MZ (which most of us make at least once a week...), and decided to write this for the company newsletter.

“You live WHERE?”
by Virginia Parker
Photos by Tyrone Fowler

Whenever I need to give my address to someone in the UAE – be it for receiving my credit card through the bank, chatting with a new friend in Dubai, or to get a bookshelf from IKEA – I am generally faced with bewilderment.

“Madinat Zayed. No, no, not the gold souq area in Abu Dhabi. Here, let me draw you a map. It’s also called Beda Zayed. Wait. Have you ever been to Liwa? Have you read Arabian Sands?”

The Western Zone, Al Gharbia, comprises 70% of the total area of the Emirate of Abu Dhabi and yet I routinely meet people who have spent years and years living in the UAE without ever having set foot on the shifting sands of one of the most beautiful
areas in the world. Madinat Zayed, the capital, is only an hour and a half outside of Abu Dhabi in distance, but somehow worlds away in feeling.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Abu Dhabi, but I love it for the way that I feel like I’m in Toronto, Tokyo or Seoul, surrounded by Starbucks and Second Cup, La Senza and The Gap. Out here in Madinat Zayed, we get to experience the “real” flavours and sights of the country, but without sacrificing too many creature comforts (Right, here’s no Starbucks but….). The burqa-wearing women of the Heritage Village by the Marina Mall? They look exactly like the mothers who come for meetings at my school.

And so, you may ask, what exactly is there to do out here? In the five months since our arrival, my husband and I have explored as much of this area as we can. Our experiences have ranged from the typically Emirati to the mildly absurd. We’ve seen falcon races and explored the forts of Liwa, but have also toured a fish farm located in the middle of the desert and wandered around the Rainbow Sheikh’s incredible car museum.

Mundane activities, such as the 65km commute between MZ and the Liwa Hotel (“home” for many people who are still awaiting permanent accommodation in town), become chances to see black Bedu tents surrounded by herds of camels, or glimpse a few endangered Arabian gazelles grazing on the trees by the side of the road. Smooth glimmering dunes become perfect spots for stargazing as you camp out on a weekend night.

Our students, too, live different lives from what I could have imagined before coming here. A simple chat about wedding preparations or the colour of your kandura becomes a fascinating view into the daily lives of a newly opened culture. And no, all of our girls are not just getting married after graduation. Although there are those who do, many of them have their sights set on university instead.

There are a few special events that have happened here as well. The Abu Dhabi Desert Challenge, on par with the Paris-Dakkar Rally, took place last March, attracting competitors from all over the world, and providing a bit of entertainment and opportunities for some of us. There was another surprise visit a few weeks later,
this time by a camera crew from Top Gear (and yes, Mr Richard Hammond was there too). If these people are willing to travel halfway around the world to experience this part of the UAE, why don’t more people come out from Abu
Dhabi?

Of course, certain frustrations that come with small town life exist. We need to visit Abu Dhabi for some items, and there is a certain respect of traditional values that one must constantly be aware of (no knee-length skirts for me!). Life out here isn’t the most fast-paced or thrilling that you’ll find, but it is still worth the drive outside the city.
limits.

P.S. Just realized that the photos didn't load -- will have to do them from Ty's computer...

Hot times and walking to school...

I'm quite enjoying my walks to school every morning. Not having a car before, I've generally walked wherever I needed to go. A great way to get from point A to point B on a lovely summer's day in Montreal, not always so great in the summer in the UAE (or for that matter, in the winter in Montreal).

Consider this, however. It's rumoured that the meteorologists of certain Middle Eastern countries will fudge the weather reports a bit. By law, nobody is supposed to be working outside once the temp hits 50 degrees, especially not on construction sites or in the middle of the desert. Some claim that the temperature is generally reported to be 47 or 48, because if it hit 50, about half the workers here would be required to stop working.... and then how would those skyscrapers get built??

I can tell you that a 30-minute walk before the sun has reached its full power leaves you absolutely drenched, to the point that you have to change all your clothes before you can even think of speaking to another person, so I can't even begin to imagine what the legions of workers picking up garbage by the side of the road, or carrying boards on a construction site, or loading trucks must be feeling....

(By the way... it isn't even summer yet!)

(Right, and another thing, don't go telling me that "It's a dry heat", because 50 degrees is HOT. And another thing, I don't see you leaning over the toaster and that's a dry heat too, isn't it?)

The heat is, perhaps, one reason why most of the people I pass on the sidewalk as I walk to school stare at me like I'm an absolute lunatic. I mean, first off, they stare at any unveiled woman... and then to have this crazy person wandering around and, dare I say, sweating in public????

Still, it's a nice way to see all of MZ - literally - I walk from one end to the other!! I also have a chance to chat with a black rooster who lives a block away from us, and to practice reading in Arabic as I walk slowly past shop windows. A few brave people will say hello to me (generally children or students), but most of them just look at me like I'm from another planet.

It's most amazing how, in all this heat, the town is still green. Sheikh Zayed's idea to "green the desert" has changed the landscape, but it takes a lot of upkeep. Each tree, each flowerbed, each median strip is built on its own sort of water reservoir that irrigates the soil constantly, and workers plant, trim, weed and care for it every day. And this greenspace runs the length of the town, providing napping space for tired workers, a picnic spot for students, and a home for birds.

Once I get to school, I am doubly happy that I managed to walk. With exams over, the teachers seem more interested in socializing than anything else. And in the Mid East - you socialize with food, and food, and food. If you get a good score on an exam, you buy everyone cake. If you pass your driver's test, you buy everyone cake. If your child wins a prize for something, you buy everyone cake... and then everyone has to wash it down with tea or coffee that is mostly sugar (I generally skip the tea/coffee). If you are anything like one of my co-teachers, Nihal, you also spend your evenings at home cooking, and then bring it all into school so that everyone can benefit - she's brought in stuffed peppers, beans mixed with veg, and a "musakha-ah" - a sort of vegetable mix. Definitely a nice change from kimchi and raw fish on a plate!

Hmmm, I've just re-read this, and it seems a bit garbled. Thanks for reading anyway... and I promise I'll learn how to cook Egyptian-style like Nihal so that I can fatten you all up when I arrive in Canada in 6 weeks.