We purchased tickets to a fancy over-priced over-the-top New Years Eve party at THE LODGE, the same night club where we reveled before (see 'Indecent Expatriates' Post), but alas, our ruler has deemed parties at this year's end to be inappropriate.
Excerpt from Gulf News:
Mohammad Orders Cancellation of New Year Celebrations
Dubai: His Highness Shaikh Mohammad Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Vice-President and Prime Minister of the UAE and Ruler of Dubai, has ordered the cancellation of all forms of celebrations marking the New Year in Dubai emirate, as an act of solidarity with the Palestinian people.
In support of the Palestinians in Gaza, who are enduring all kinds of killing, destruction and displacement by the Israeli military machinery, Shaikh Mohammad instructed all concerned authorities in Dubai to put this order in place and take necessary procedures to circulate the decision to all concerned parties.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
The Heat is On
Yesterday for the first time, when I got in the car for work at 7am, I was tempted to turn on the heat. A lot of people have been curious about the weather here and I am happy to report that December is a glorious month in the UAE. The temps hover around 75 on most days with clear sunny skies. The mornings can be chilly, but after about 2 minutes with the heat on low, I was hot and ready to open the windows. By 8am when I crossed the courtyard to teach my first class, I felt perfect in my short sleeves.
I'm not sure how long this gorgeous weather will last, but it's probably best not to jinx myself by asking. I am in no rush for the 116 degree heat of summer to return.
I'm not sure how long this gorgeous weather will last, but it's probably best not to jinx myself by asking. I am in no rush for the 116 degree heat of summer to return.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Holiday Meltdown
Christmas wouldn't be complete if I (or one of my sisters) didin't have a total emotional meltdown.
People do get whacky during the holidays, and we surmise it's a result of too much to eat and drink, not enough sleep, heaping doses of family, excess money spent and the generally uncontrollable Christmas frenzy.
But sometimes it's the little stuff that sends us over the edge. Yesterday on my way home from work, I stopped into our local market with a list of ingredients for Christmas desserts. Forget that I have family in town for a moment and there are still several dozen gifts to wrap under my bed, and forget that I have to work on Christmas (this being a Muslim country and all), and pay no mind to the fact that if I wanted, there are many lovely Lebanese bakeries around who could sell me perfectly arranged and delicious holiday dessert platters. But I am a glutton for punishment, and darn it, I've just got to have my family's favorite two-layer sour cream graham-cracker crumb cheesecake on the table on December 24.
But it all started deteriorating when I couldn't find the graham crackers. When I asked the smiley guy in produce for graham crackers, he escorted me to the 'rusk' section - Rusk, you might wonder, according to Webster, is Sweet raised bread dried and browned in an oven but it doesn't even come close to our expectations for a cracker. In fact, it's more like a teething buscuit, and for some reason, local shelves stock a dozen varieties and flavors. Something didn't feel right at that point, but I said to myself, this is not a reason to freak out, graham crackers or not, Christmas will be a warm and wonderful day. And so I asked another guy who repeated 'BRAN' when I said 'GRAHAM', and that's when I knew I was in trouble. By the time I got to the middle of the baking aisle, after visits through cereal, candy, nuts, and even 'seasonal', the flood gates had opened. You know the type, major uncontrollable waterworks, Niagara Falls style tears gushing out of my face, onto my blouse, into half-dozen tissues, all through the store, as I moved on to find the cream cheese (called puck), rocotta cheese (soft Italian) and butter required to make this ridiculous recipe - with or without graham crackers... I continued to mutter to myself.
But pats on the back are well-deserved here, as I managed to re-collect myself, put on my movie-star shades, find a substitute for graham crackers (nilla wafers and local coconut crackers) and then pay and return home to make luscious-looking two-layer sour cream graham-cracker crumb cheesecake.
People do get whacky during the holidays, and we surmise it's a result of too much to eat and drink, not enough sleep, heaping doses of family, excess money spent and the generally uncontrollable Christmas frenzy.
But sometimes it's the little stuff that sends us over the edge. Yesterday on my way home from work, I stopped into our local market with a list of ingredients for Christmas desserts. Forget that I have family in town for a moment and there are still several dozen gifts to wrap under my bed, and forget that I have to work on Christmas (this being a Muslim country and all), and pay no mind to the fact that if I wanted, there are many lovely Lebanese bakeries around who could sell me perfectly arranged and delicious holiday dessert platters. But I am a glutton for punishment, and darn it, I've just got to have my family's favorite two-layer sour cream graham-cracker crumb cheesecake on the table on December 24.
But it all started deteriorating when I couldn't find the graham crackers. When I asked the smiley guy in produce for graham crackers, he escorted me to the 'rusk' section - Rusk, you might wonder, according to Webster, is Sweet raised bread dried and browned in an oven but it doesn't even come close to our expectations for a cracker. In fact, it's more like a teething buscuit, and for some reason, local shelves stock a dozen varieties and flavors. Something didn't feel right at that point, but I said to myself, this is not a reason to freak out, graham crackers or not, Christmas will be a warm and wonderful day. And so I asked another guy who repeated 'BRAN' when I said 'GRAHAM', and that's when I knew I was in trouble. By the time I got to the middle of the baking aisle, after visits through cereal, candy, nuts, and even 'seasonal', the flood gates had opened. You know the type, major uncontrollable waterworks, Niagara Falls style tears gushing out of my face, onto my blouse, into half-dozen tissues, all through the store, as I moved on to find the cream cheese (called puck), rocotta cheese (soft Italian) and butter required to make this ridiculous recipe - with or without graham crackers... I continued to mutter to myself.
But pats on the back are well-deserved here, as I managed to re-collect myself, put on my movie-star shades, find a substitute for graham crackers (nilla wafers and local coconut crackers) and then pay and return home to make luscious-looking two-layer sour cream graham-cracker crumb cheesecake.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
A Very Muslim Christmas
I couldn't be happier that the kids have friends who are Emirati. A local family in our neighborhood send their kids to the Australian School with ours, and after school, they all play wild games of tag and share snacks of popcorn and chicken hotdogs when we see them in the park. They bury their shoes in the sand, climb to the tops of monkeybars, laughing their heads off while getting utterly filthy in the twilight.
Watching the sandy, teeming packs of kids, I forget that the culture and language here are totally different from my own. Or maybe not totally.
The other day, Gebrille, 9, was tooling around on the sidewalk showing off a shiny remote control car. When he came close enough for me to admire his car, he told me it was a Christmas present from last year. I said hold on kid, isn't your family Muslim? And he said well yes but it's ok it's ok, our family doesn't think Christmas is Haram.
Haram, pronounced 'Hah-RAHM', means Forbidden in Islam, and is one of the first words you learn here as a foreigner. Wearing shorts in Sharjah is Haram. Alcohol is Haram. Men and women socializing together is Haram. And therefore, I would assume, that anything surrounding a Christian holiday would certainly be HARAM. No miss no miss, he says, Christmas is OK, my mom speaks good English, so Christmas is ok its ok. Seeing my puzzlement he went on to say but No miss, even though we have Christmas, Halloween is Haram and we never do trick or treating, our neighbors wouldn't like it.
Before I could query him any more he took off with the car and left me to mull over a family whose mom covers her hair in Muslim tradition, but also doles out gifts on December 25.
Watching the sandy, teeming packs of kids, I forget that the culture and language here are totally different from my own. Or maybe not totally.
The other day, Gebrille, 9, was tooling around on the sidewalk showing off a shiny remote control car. When he came close enough for me to admire his car, he told me it was a Christmas present from last year. I said hold on kid, isn't your family Muslim? And he said well yes but it's ok it's ok, our family doesn't think Christmas is Haram.
Haram, pronounced 'Hah-RAHM', means Forbidden in Islam, and is one of the first words you learn here as a foreigner. Wearing shorts in Sharjah is Haram. Alcohol is Haram. Men and women socializing together is Haram. And therefore, I would assume, that anything surrounding a Christian holiday would certainly be HARAM. No miss no miss, he says, Christmas is OK, my mom speaks good English, so Christmas is ok its ok. Seeing my puzzlement he went on to say but No miss, even though we have Christmas, Halloween is Haram and we never do trick or treating, our neighbors wouldn't like it.
Before I could query him any more he took off with the car and left me to mull over a family whose mom covers her hair in Muslim tradition, but also doles out gifts on December 25.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Five Star Living? Not quite..
It wouldn't be fair to write about life in the UAE if I didn't also let you in on some of the frustrations, confusions and make-me-almost-cry scenarios that are part of every day living in a developing country.
Though Dubai is well-known (read last post) for cutting-edge construction, building islands from scratch, and 7 star hotels, the country as a whole has only been rich for 40 years and didn't start formally educating people outside the mosques until th e1960's. That said, you can begin to understand that even though you get world class service when you pay five star prices, every day living is far from a five star experience.
Take the roads as an example. Eight lane toll-ways exist, with dirt and sand roads feeding into them, and truly maniacal drivers urge you out of their lane by flashing their lights, tailing you within inches and then passing at deadly high speeds. I honestly feel as if I've been harassed on the road sometimes, by people I've never met.
And we've been trying to buy a car for a month, but to do this, we need to provide paper checks to the dealer, written and post-dated for the duration of our car loan. Sounds crazy? But our check books got lost in the mail, a major religious holiday closed the bank for several days, and in the mean time, the car we want has been sold.
Then, making my life ever so much simpler, my mobile phone stopped working suddenly, because unbeknownst to me, I purchased a 'tourist plan', and my 'tourist phone number' expired without warning. The funny part is that it took three calls to tech support, and three visits to the phone store to confirm that I would need to change my phone number. So now I've got to alert the kids school, utilities, and my scant new friends of my new details.
On top of all this, the UAE started a new ID program, under which all of us, including the kids, must get a biometric id card, with eye and fingerprints embedded in fancy chips. The government issued a Dec 31 deadline, then closed their offices for religious holidays. So after the holidays, Billy got in line at 5:30 in the morning to get appointments for us all, and they gave appointments out to 80 guys. Billy was 90th in line. We've come to find out that most of the time when the government scares people with deadlines and required inititiatives, they back off, without exception, when they realize that their own offices have insufficient manpower to handle the request.
So as Billy is becoming more 'ZEN' by the day, I continue to dig in to my steering wheel and scratch my head over the absurdities of 2 star Emirati living.
Though Dubai is well-known (read last post) for cutting-edge construction, building islands from scratch, and 7 star hotels, the country as a whole has only been rich for 40 years and didn't start formally educating people outside the mosques until th e1960's. That said, you can begin to understand that even though you get world class service when you pay five star prices, every day living is far from a five star experience.
Take the roads as an example. Eight lane toll-ways exist, with dirt and sand roads feeding into them, and truly maniacal drivers urge you out of their lane by flashing their lights, tailing you within inches and then passing at deadly high speeds. I honestly feel as if I've been harassed on the road sometimes, by people I've never met.
And we've been trying to buy a car for a month, but to do this, we need to provide paper checks to the dealer, written and post-dated for the duration of our car loan. Sounds crazy? But our check books got lost in the mail, a major religious holiday closed the bank for several days, and in the mean time, the car we want has been sold.
Then, making my life ever so much simpler, my mobile phone stopped working suddenly, because unbeknownst to me, I purchased a 'tourist plan', and my 'tourist phone number' expired without warning. The funny part is that it took three calls to tech support, and three visits to the phone store to confirm that I would need to change my phone number. So now I've got to alert the kids school, utilities, and my scant new friends of my new details.
On top of all this, the UAE started a new ID program, under which all of us, including the kids, must get a biometric id card, with eye and fingerprints embedded in fancy chips. The government issued a Dec 31 deadline, then closed their offices for religious holidays. So after the holidays, Billy got in line at 5:30 in the morning to get appointments for us all, and they gave appointments out to 80 guys. Billy was 90th in line. We've come to find out that most of the time when the government scares people with deadlines and required inititiatives, they back off, without exception, when they realize that their own offices have insufficient manpower to handle the request.
So as Billy is becoming more 'ZEN' by the day, I continue to dig in to my steering wheel and scratch my head over the absurdities of 2 star Emirati living.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Shark Tank
Dubai is known for more Firsts, Tallests, Most Luxurious-es, and Biggests than any other tourist destination on the planet. And so with our first visitors, we decided to try out some of the outragious touristy offerings we've been promising the kids (and dying to see ourselves).
Taking it Easy - Day 1
Janell and Scooby arrived at 1am on a Sunday. While the kids and I were at school, Billy, our jetlag enforcer, tapped on our visitors' door at noon and took them out to a Sharjah favorite, the Dhow restaurant - for Arabic lunch in an historic trading boat. They ate grilled meats, vine leaves and eggplant salad, while Billy gave them the lowdown on what we had in store for the rest of their visit.
Gulf-side Dining & Tallest Building - Day 2
After a quick kitchen-table orientation, we sent them off with a car, a map and directions to the Dubai Museum, which both visitors said is a worthwhile stop, with exhibits on pearl diving, architecture and local heritage. That night, we grownups ate on the water in Dubai, at a restaurant called Shimmers. Janell and I were given loaner pashminas to keep our shoulders warm and aside from the fact that the bar simply couldn't get the martini's right, first no vodka, then no olives.. the food was delicious, again with grilled meats and fish, and crusty walnut bread.
On our commute to and from the restaurant, we took in views of Dubai's newest trademark, the Burj Dubai. The Burj Dubai, to be completed in two years, is the tallest structure in the world. Designed by the same architecture firm as the Sears Tower (3 cheers for my Chicago readers !!), it features some of the same multi-level design features of the famous Chicago skyscraper. This building can be seen from any approach to Dubai, and you can't help but be amazed at how it dwarfs the surrounding high-rises.
Shark Tank - Day 3
Theme parks in the UAE are a big draw for tourists from other gulf countries where venues with bathing suits are problematic. We'd already been to a pretty d-luxe water park called Dreamland, but we'd been waiting to go to Aquaventure for a special occasion - alas, visitors from home gave us an excuse. For a mere $85 per person, we were let in to Aquaventure, which not only boasts the only rides in the world where you are thrust through shark tanks, but you also get to spend the day on the famous Palm Jumeira - the man-made palm shaped island which has made Dubai so famous.
Dune Bashing - Day 4
We chilled out for most of the next day (sliding through shark tanks and careening through wavy rivers is exhausting), while Janell and Scooby went on a shopping excursion. When they returned at 3:30, we were picked up by Ishaq the tour guide for a Desert Safari Tour. It started with Dune Bashing - where we followed a dozen other land cruisers into the desert, to sail up and over stories-tall yellow dunes and then down again, only to cruise up and down the sides of dozens more. Imagine pulsating Arabic music booming through subwoofers, roller-coaster style driving, with Brady and Liam howling and laughing in the back row, me holding on tight with my eyes-half closed trying not to acknowledge the lunch not entirely digested in my stomach, and Scooby taking it all in with a video camera in the front seat - and Janell and Billy nervously laughing their heads off at every crest of dune. Thank goodness we left Rosie home with a sitter.
Once we'd had enough bashing, we were dropped at a desert camp, where we ate (again) grilled meats, lamb kebobs, lamb chops and chicken, watched belly dancing, got henna tatoos, rode camels, dressed in local costumes and learned about the local past time (and bad habit) sheesha smoking. Needless to say, when we were dropped at home by 10pm, we were pooped, and thoroughly satisfied and impressed with ourselves and our adventure.
7 Star Hotel - Day 5
The Burj Al Arab is perhaps Dubai's most widely known building and hotel, as it is shaped like a sailboat. In addition to its unusual architecture, the hotel boasts a 7 star rating, with rooms starting at $2500, and entry to the lobby restricted to paying hotel guests and local 'members'. Though we are indeed NOT members, we happen to have a friend who is one. At 12:30, we arrived at the hotel gate with a reservation number in hand and we took pleasure in leaving our sandy down-market rental cars with the fancy dressed valets. Our friend met us in the lobby and took us to the poolside restaurant for their luscious buffet brunch. Everything on it was gorgeous, from the sushi and sashimi, fresh oysters and shrimp, to stewed beef in truffle sauce, (again) grilled lamb, roast beef, squid salads, loads of traditional arabic salads and vine leaves, lobster claws (a favorite with Liam), crab legs (for Brady) and of course fresh fruit (for Rose). I couldn't even begin to describe the dessert buffet, as the tarts, multi-layer cakes and ice-cream service were all quite original, with locally-found fruits, nuts and sauces. After the brunch (please do not ask about the ridiculous feed-a-whole-3rd-world-family-for-a-year price tag) our friend took us on a tour of the premises were we oooh and ahhed at the views of the Palm Jumeira Island, overflowing (real) gold flower vases and beautifully coifed multi-lingual attendants at every turn. But the truth is, once we made it back to our dusty cavernous home and got back into jeans, we were grateful we didn't have to indulge ourselves in such a stuffy fashion on a regular basis. Normal life felt pretty darn good.
Global Village - Day 6
While our visitors took in yet another local mall, we rested up for an evening cultural outing: Global Village. A 3 month festival-market, Global Village sits on what we might call a fair grounds, and features acres and acres of neatly arranged tents and stalls, organized by country and region of the world. Inside each tent and stall, you can buy handicrafts, artworks, packaged and ready-to-eat foods from the particular country housed in that space. Some countries, such as India and Saudi Arabia, take up entire networks of tents and stalls, and others, like Sri Lanka had a mere handful of vendors. The USA happens not to be represented at all, and all of Europe was housed in a less-than-impressive, rather dumpily decorated tent. I bought African art made with cut palms on banana paper, soapstone bowls, woven vases, a lambskin handbag from Pakistan, Janell bought African art and Indian shoes, and her husband bought Saudi dates. Billy ate his way through the evening, with foods from Egypt, Arabic coffee, and Sri Lankan dumplings.
Largest Pane of Glass - Day 7
On Janell & Scooby's last day in Dubai, we went to a local gem, the Mamzar beach park, where we hoped to enjoy a sandy afternoon, but the weather did not cooperate, and we were forced to visit the newly opened Dubai Mall instead. This mall boasts the World's Largest Pane of Glass, which encloses the the Dubai Mall Aquarium. You'll also find an ice rink, two food courts, several ridiculous fountains, and best of all for me: Dubai's first Gap store, and for the kids: the country's only Taco Bell.
Late that night I brought Janell & Scooby back to Dubai airport, and though I truly felt sad to see them go, I was content to reach the end of a busy visit, and satisfied to tick another 4 or 5 BEST and BIGGEST Dubai attractions off my to do list - and most importanty, to start saving the necessary Dirhams for the next round of visitors.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
And What Do The Kids Think?
Quiz Question: Which one of our kids could be described as being 'Off With the Fairies'? Read below to see your answer...
In response to Jill's comment (last post), because our kids go to an Australian school (which is co-ed and very 'normal' by our standards) and because I work in one of the most conservative institutions in the area, the kids don't necessarily experience some of the really different customs that I do. You do see completely covered women all over town, often surrounded by blondes like me in short sleeves. But after no more than the first week when the kids were asking 'why do the ladies look like nuns and cover their faces?' they have settled in and the seem to 'get it', that there is another religion here making life different from home. They are adaptable little people our kids, moreso than me in fact.
Putting off Thanksgiving for a couple of weeks, for example, in order to 'celebrate right' when I have a few days off and time to linger over pie, indeed made me funky last week, but the kids could have cared less. And sitting stuck in traffic, which makes me long for Colorado roads, sits well with the kids as long as we're allowing them to play with their game boys in the back seat. (But don't y'all get excited Aunties and Uncles, Video games for the home continue to sit on our 'Banned - DO NOT BUY' list, lest we fry their brains).
Even Liam, who has shown more signs of homesickness than the others, succeeded in organizing his own play date at the park, by dragging Billy there to see his pals after school last week. Though his teacher says he is oftentimes 'off with the fairies' (read: Australian slang for 'spaced out'), she said he doesn't miss a thing and that he loves a good laugh. And to confirm that he is truly at home in the Australian school environment, he spelled snake on his Christmas list just like an Australian would say it: SNIKE
And Rosie seems least affected by our move. She soaks it up when restaurant workers try to chit chat, and her best pal at school is a local little girl named Meera.
Alas Brady continues to remind us, when we get a little goofy and yodel along with the prayer caller at the mosque behind our house, that it is not good manners to make fun of someone's religion. Irreverent parents, are we?
In response to Jill's comment (last post), because our kids go to an Australian school (which is co-ed and very 'normal' by our standards) and because I work in one of the most conservative institutions in the area, the kids don't necessarily experience some of the really different customs that I do. You do see completely covered women all over town, often surrounded by blondes like me in short sleeves. But after no more than the first week when the kids were asking 'why do the ladies look like nuns and cover their faces?' they have settled in and the seem to 'get it', that there is another religion here making life different from home. They are adaptable little people our kids, moreso than me in fact.
Putting off Thanksgiving for a couple of weeks, for example, in order to 'celebrate right' when I have a few days off and time to linger over pie, indeed made me funky last week, but the kids could have cared less. And sitting stuck in traffic, which makes me long for Colorado roads, sits well with the kids as long as we're allowing them to play with their game boys in the back seat. (But don't y'all get excited Aunties and Uncles, Video games for the home continue to sit on our 'Banned - DO NOT BUY' list, lest we fry their brains).
Even Liam, who has shown more signs of homesickness than the others, succeeded in organizing his own play date at the park, by dragging Billy there to see his pals after school last week. Though his teacher says he is oftentimes 'off with the fairies' (read: Australian slang for 'spaced out'), she said he doesn't miss a thing and that he loves a good laugh. And to confirm that he is truly at home in the Australian school environment, he spelled snake on his Christmas list just like an Australian would say it: SNIKE
And Rosie seems least affected by our move. She soaks it up when restaurant workers try to chit chat, and her best pal at school is a local little girl named Meera.
Alas Brady continues to remind us, when we get a little goofy and yodel along with the prayer caller at the mosque behind our house, that it is not good manners to make fun of someone's religion. Irreverent parents, are we?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Co-Ed Bluetooth
The business department where I work sponsored a conference last week with the theme of Energizing the Emirati Economy (Otherwise known as E3). We had locally well-known guest speakers, a big food sponsor with gourmet goody bags, cosmetic samples and makeover coupons, a giant Pepsi display with chilled bevs on ice, and lots of talk about Emiratis getting involved with the multi-national business going on here.
But the subtext of this event was far from business-ey. Though we are a women's college, we invited guys from the men's campus and filled the auditorium with students. The rules for these events at our conservative campus require that the guys sit at the front, the girls sit at the back, and two rows of faculty separate them.
When the girls enroll at the college, we ensure the men who act as their guardians (dads, brothers or husbands) that this is a women's zone, (male faculty aside), and that their 'women' will be looked after and shielded from unwanted male company, let alone improper advances or flirting.
But the day before the conference, we faculty escorts were given a talk about enforcing the rules on mobile phones, namely, that they must remain off and out of sight inside any campus buildings. This was especially important at this event not because the phones might go off and disturb our distinguished guests, and not because it is impolite to chat on your mobile in a business setting. The main reason is that this would be one of the few opportunities this year when our female students would be in close enough proximity to the boys that they could 'blue tooth' each other.
Up to this point, my knowledge of bluetooth technology was limited to that awkward ear piece I sometimes try to use when I drive. I did not know that you can turn it on and use it as a sort of radar, to locate other mobile numbers in the zone where you sit, and exchange info, numbers, names, etc., without ever a phone going off. Go figure.
Along these same lines, I called tech support to the classroom this week and when the jolly fellow arrived and I opened the door without hesitation he looked at me like, 'lady, you can't just let me in..', and so while I coaxed him into the room, I turned around to find three of my gals swishing around their sheilas (or headscarves) to get more covered in preparation for his presence. Though I've been here almost 4 months now, it still happens weekly that I stop in my tracks at what seem to be absurd gender roles, rules and limitations. (See posting called 'unveiling'). As much as I'd like to think I'm getting to understand the custom, I don't know if I'll ever not shake my head (inside my head) when I hear someone talking about the guardian of an articulate and educated 22 year old woman.
But the subtext of this event was far from business-ey. Though we are a women's college, we invited guys from the men's campus and filled the auditorium with students. The rules for these events at our conservative campus require that the guys sit at the front, the girls sit at the back, and two rows of faculty separate them.
When the girls enroll at the college, we ensure the men who act as their guardians (dads, brothers or husbands) that this is a women's zone, (male faculty aside), and that their 'women' will be looked after and shielded from unwanted male company, let alone improper advances or flirting.
But the day before the conference, we faculty escorts were given a talk about enforcing the rules on mobile phones, namely, that they must remain off and out of sight inside any campus buildings. This was especially important at this event not because the phones might go off and disturb our distinguished guests, and not because it is impolite to chat on your mobile in a business setting. The main reason is that this would be one of the few opportunities this year when our female students would be in close enough proximity to the boys that they could 'blue tooth' each other.
Up to this point, my knowledge of bluetooth technology was limited to that awkward ear piece I sometimes try to use when I drive. I did not know that you can turn it on and use it as a sort of radar, to locate other mobile numbers in the zone where you sit, and exchange info, numbers, names, etc., without ever a phone going off. Go figure.
Along these same lines, I called tech support to the classroom this week and when the jolly fellow arrived and I opened the door without hesitation he looked at me like, 'lady, you can't just let me in..', and so while I coaxed him into the room, I turned around to find three of my gals swishing around their sheilas (or headscarves) to get more covered in preparation for his presence. Though I've been here almost 4 months now, it still happens weekly that I stop in my tracks at what seem to be absurd gender roles, rules and limitations. (See posting called 'unveiling'). As much as I'd like to think I'm getting to understand the custom, I don't know if I'll ever not shake my head (inside my head) when I hear someone talking about the guardian of an articulate and educated 22 year old woman.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Housemaid
I try to post something here weekly, not only for my loyal readers at home, but for our kids, who might think this is a cool family archive some day. (Thank you all for reading by the way ;-)SHOUT OUT here to Jill, Ann, Connie, Michelle at the IEC, Trevor, Alicia, Mom and my sisters, and a mystery reader named Darsantre - Who are you?? )
But I've spent several days in the last week at the immigration offices in Dubai, trying to legally hire a full-time helper to live in the separate tiny quarters we have at our villa. Why isn't Billy doing this - you might ask? Billy has indeed taken charge of our cooking and food shopping (this means lots of cabbage and internet recipes from Iran), putting kids on the the school bus (picture Rosie with crooked pig tails) and watching over homework (resulting in perfect pencil renditions of the Japanese flag). But since I am the legal 'Expatriate Resident', I am the only one who can officially submit papers and sponsor a dependent employee.
This is all well and good with me, except that the language surrounding the help here seems third-world. The first time I heard 'housemaid', from a modern Swedish woman, I bristled. How old-fashioned I thought. As it turns out, 'housemaid' is the official occupation listed on the passports of people hired to be live-in help. So for the locals, the word is natural - and normal. And for those who've lived here for a while, it seems to become normal too. But as I meet more westerners and other Arab expats, I can see the struggle to use the right word, depending on the social situation where the discussion occurs. My Turkish officemate for example, uses 'helper' when talking about her housemaid to me , but she uses 'Maid' when she's talking with Europeans. Another American teacher uses the word 'nanny' mostly, because like me, I think she finds the term 'housemaid' distasteful. At any rate, full-time live-in help here is common and inexpensive, and you could say we're 'going native' as we work to hire someone ourselves.
The gal we're trying to hire is 24, married, and from Sri Lanka. She is smiley, hard-working and sending money back home. She is our friend's nanny's niece and has been coming to clean house every Friday for several weeks now.
So, after 5 visits to immigration, numerous papers which had to be professionally 'typed', sitting in wild yet bumper to bumper Dubai traffic after work, hanging out in the ladies sections of smelly crowded government offices (much like dingy U.S. government offices only with more marble decor), a $1500 deposit, and another $2000 in fees, we have officially and legally sponsored our own 'helper', who is moving in this week. As we move through the adjustment to having daily help with cleaning, ironing, after-school-care and kitchen-help, we'll let you know how our life is impacted and how our vocabulary for 'housemaid' evolves.
But I've spent several days in the last week at the immigration offices in Dubai, trying to legally hire a full-time helper to live in the separate tiny quarters we have at our villa. Why isn't Billy doing this - you might ask? Billy has indeed taken charge of our cooking and food shopping (this means lots of cabbage and internet recipes from Iran), putting kids on the the school bus (picture Rosie with crooked pig tails) and watching over homework (resulting in perfect pencil renditions of the Japanese flag). But since I am the legal 'Expatriate Resident', I am the only one who can officially submit papers and sponsor a dependent employee.
This is all well and good with me, except that the language surrounding the help here seems third-world. The first time I heard 'housemaid', from a modern Swedish woman, I bristled. How old-fashioned I thought. As it turns out, 'housemaid' is the official occupation listed on the passports of people hired to be live-in help. So for the locals, the word is natural - and normal. And for those who've lived here for a while, it seems to become normal too. But as I meet more westerners and other Arab expats, I can see the struggle to use the right word, depending on the social situation where the discussion occurs. My Turkish officemate for example, uses 'helper' when talking about her housemaid to me , but she uses 'Maid' when she's talking with Europeans. Another American teacher uses the word 'nanny' mostly, because like me, I think she finds the term 'housemaid' distasteful. At any rate, full-time live-in help here is common and inexpensive, and you could say we're 'going native' as we work to hire someone ourselves.
The gal we're trying to hire is 24, married, and from Sri Lanka. She is smiley, hard-working and sending money back home. She is our friend's nanny's niece and has been coming to clean house every Friday for several weeks now.
So, after 5 visits to immigration, numerous papers which had to be professionally 'typed', sitting in wild yet bumper to bumper Dubai traffic after work, hanging out in the ladies sections of smelly crowded government offices (much like dingy U.S. government offices only with more marble decor), a $1500 deposit, and another $2000 in fees, we have officially and legally sponsored our own 'helper', who is moving in this week. As we move through the adjustment to having daily help with cleaning, ironing, after-school-care and kitchen-help, we'll let you know how our life is impacted and how our vocabulary for 'housemaid' evolves.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
UAE Halloween
Good Americans love Halloween, and the really good Americans know where to find pumpkins, and have pumpkin carving kits in their kitchens. After paying about $30 for a smallish imported American pumpkin, I got a tip from a colleague that the fruit and veg markets have local gourds that can pass for pumpkins. With this info, Billy went out and found a two dollar and three dollar pumpkin to round out our project. This same colleague also lent us her special carving kit, complete with safe tools and stencils, so we were really able to get creative this year, without cutting off any small child's fingers.
Check out our slide show to see the kids in Japanese traditional costumes, our pumpkins and carving activities, and men and boys praying in the parking lot where we bought candy for the Halloween party. You'll also see the house of a Canadian family where we trick-or-treated all of their doors, and the kids got wild and crazy with their plastic samurai swords.
See, we haven't gone completely native..
Check out our slide show to see the kids in Japanese traditional costumes, our pumpkins and carving activities, and men and boys praying in the parking lot where we bought candy for the Halloween party. You'll also see the house of a Canadian family where we trick-or-treated all of their doors, and the kids got wild and crazy with their plastic samurai swords.
See, we haven't gone completely native..
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Indecent Expatriates
We have a lovely new Canadian babysitter named Chanel, which means later-evening outings have once again become a possiblity for Billy and me.
Less eager to explore nightlife than we were to have a social life, I organized a reservation at a Mexican restaurant in Dubai for the other new hires and their partners. Per the usual, since this is a restaurant serving alcohol, we found it on the premises of a hotel, precisely on the 8th floor. Not all of the bars are tucked away in high-rises, but many of them are, and so the evening started with the ilicit feeling of going to a secret place. Since the drinking & driving laws are harsh in this country, i.e. one drop lands you in jail, I was drinking Perrier while Billy and most of the others had margaritas and Corona Extra. Though we were tired and it was late, the single and childless folks coerced us into following them to a night spot called 'the lodge'.
Given the name The Lodge, we had fireplaces and deer heads in mind, and visions of ski lodges with warm after dinner drinks. But as we got closer to the venue and watched the folks piling out of taxis on the curb, it became clear this was to be a night of short skirts, high heels and yes > plaid school-girl outfits. At first we were thinking gosh, we must be really out of touch to NOT know that plaid jumpers had gained popularity. But as the night progressed, and we got past the underaged local boys hanging out at the velvet rope just to look and whistle, and moved through the bouncers to find our names on the VIP list and into the circular open air dance pit, we learned that this was the night's theme - '80's school girl night'.
I must admit that dancing in the middle of a taxi-filled city of highrises, in the open air and to the music of my youth proved to be so much more exhilirating than Hot Toddies by a fire would have been. But I also must admit that I wondered over the impression we were giving to the teen hangers-on at the velvet rope, guys whose sisters aren't allowed out after dark, and whose families don't wear western clothes or even dance for that matter.
But we carried on, sweaty indecent dancing expatriates, many of us dressed indecently even by western standards, and made our plans to find the off-license liquor seller the following weekend.
Less eager to explore nightlife than we were to have a social life, I organized a reservation at a Mexican restaurant in Dubai for the other new hires and their partners. Per the usual, since this is a restaurant serving alcohol, we found it on the premises of a hotel, precisely on the 8th floor. Not all of the bars are tucked away in high-rises, but many of them are, and so the evening started with the ilicit feeling of going to a secret place. Since the drinking & driving laws are harsh in this country, i.e. one drop lands you in jail, I was drinking Perrier while Billy and most of the others had margaritas and Corona Extra. Though we were tired and it was late, the single and childless folks coerced us into following them to a night spot called 'the lodge'.
Given the name The Lodge, we had fireplaces and deer heads in mind, and visions of ski lodges with warm after dinner drinks. But as we got closer to the venue and watched the folks piling out of taxis on the curb, it became clear this was to be a night of short skirts, high heels and yes > plaid school-girl outfits. At first we were thinking gosh, we must be really out of touch to NOT know that plaid jumpers had gained popularity. But as the night progressed, and we got past the underaged local boys hanging out at the velvet rope just to look and whistle, and moved through the bouncers to find our names on the VIP list and into the circular open air dance pit, we learned that this was the night's theme - '80's school girl night'.
I must admit that dancing in the middle of a taxi-filled city of highrises, in the open air and to the music of my youth proved to be so much more exhilirating than Hot Toddies by a fire would have been. But I also must admit that I wondered over the impression we were giving to the teen hangers-on at the velvet rope, guys whose sisters aren't allowed out after dark, and whose families don't wear western clothes or even dance for that matter.
But we carried on, sweaty indecent dancing expatriates, many of us dressed indecently even by western standards, and made our plans to find the off-license liquor seller the following weekend.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Unveiling
It's week seven on campus, and until now I've had two students continue to wear their veils in class. The choice to be veiled is a complicated one, and as I understand, it has more to do with family tradition than anything else, though sometimes a strong male figure is imposing the choice.
While I was handing back papers to my group of twenty, wandering between the desks and having a good 8am chat with my students, mostly about which mall everyone enjoyed over the weekend, I came to M's paper. M has been one of my veiled ones, and I've come to know her eye expressions and the clear voice she projects from beneath her veil. I'm guessing you become an articulate speaker out of necessity when you choose to be veiled. As I looked up from my stack of papers to her usual spot I became disoriented to find her unveiled face. I audibly but quietly gasped in surprise and she looked pleased, grinned and took her paper. Because I spent almost three weeks getting to know my students names, and this was complicated by the two veils in class, it's been a bit of a fixation for me, and therefore, I was completely distracted and a bit consumed by the situation and had to actually focus my thoughts to carry on. Inside (and maybe outside too) I was smiling with the satisfaction of knowing that maybe I'd created a zone comfortable enough for her to feel at ease. Or perhaps her father or brother had decided to relax a family tradition. Either way, a positive threshold had been crossed and I was there to see it.
While I was handing back papers to my group of twenty, wandering between the desks and having a good 8am chat with my students, mostly about which mall everyone enjoyed over the weekend, I came to M's paper. M has been one of my veiled ones, and I've come to know her eye expressions and the clear voice she projects from beneath her veil. I'm guessing you become an articulate speaker out of necessity when you choose to be veiled. As I looked up from my stack of papers to her usual spot I became disoriented to find her unveiled face. I audibly but quietly gasped in surprise and she looked pleased, grinned and took her paper. Because I spent almost three weeks getting to know my students names, and this was complicated by the two veils in class, it's been a bit of a fixation for me, and therefore, I was completely distracted and a bit consumed by the situation and had to actually focus my thoughts to carry on. Inside (and maybe outside too) I was smiling with the satisfaction of knowing that maybe I'd created a zone comfortable enough for her to feel at ease. Or perhaps her father or brother had decided to relax a family tradition. Either way, a positive threshold had been crossed and I was there to see it.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Spilled Juice and Desert Roads
(For photos, see www.wattskidsinaction.shutterfly.com)
I should have known if we tell people we're driving to another middle-eastern country with our children in the back seat, that we'd have people worried and waiting for us to make it home safe. Sorry for this. We are home. We are safe. We had an excellent time. And if this travel sounds exotic and adventurous, just remember that kids will spill juice boxes and spouses will bicker about the map and that gas station toilets basically stink no matter where on the planet you are. So the actual drive was pretty much like driving from Chicago to St. Louis, only without the corn fields.
A Safe Trip?
Oman has been a peaceful place for a very long time, as has the UAE, and the whole pointed peninsula is safe for travelling around by car. The only questionable aspect is the 4 hour stretch of desert between Dubai and the mountains of Muscat, but there are gas stations every 80-100 kilometers and the Omanis do in fact speak some English.
Desert and Rocky Peaks
Dubai and Sharjah are mostly a developed coastal desert, and as you drive out of town towards Oman, the landscape is gentle rolling dunes with scrub. As you get further inland the dunes flatten to a more gravelly looking dismal gray. But as you near the Omani coast, you pass through the striking jutting rocky mountains of Oman, which are grey, pointy and jagged. These mountains press the city of Muscat into the Gulf of Oman, and the actual cityscape has been built atop and between the jutty peaks of rock. The gulf water is stunning, blue and warm.
Chamois Guy, Dolphins and Forts
We chose a resort called Shangri-la, a few miles down the coast from the capital, for their multiple pools, beach access, and a raved-about breakfast buffet. It was more D-luxe than we imagined, especially the chamois-guy, whose only apparent job was to wander about the pool and beach and offer to clean your shades, all done with a brilliant southeast Asian smile. With the variety of restaurants and pools, (and other doting melon-pushing staff) we could have spent the entire six days on resort.
But the tourist attractions were beckoning, and after just a day and a half of R&R, we embarked on a tour of the sites. These included dolphin watching, tiny mountaintop forts, old enlarged European sketches of the city, and an excellent souk where you could buy anything from traditional costumes to incense burners to henna powder for tatoos and giant shiny swords. My favorite thing though, is the public art of Muscat. The traffic circles and many of the overpasses offer sculptures (traditional coffee pots and boats) and tiled art (scenes of fishing and sword battles). Just imagine Billy driving around the traffic circles, window down, and me invading his driver-seat lap trying to get a good shot with my camera, with locals lined up in their cars behind us, beeping and annoyed. (photos at linkbelow).
Mutton and Fruit
The food in Oman is influenced by the Indians and Lebanese who for a long time were the primary immigrants, so we ate lots of lamb, eggplant and grape leaves. The kids enjoyed watermelon and mango juices every day for breakfast and we ate numerous shwarma (something akin to a gyro sandwich) and mutton-kebob.
The Road Home
After six days of chamois-guys, dolphins and Omani heritage, we were ready to get back to life. The road home was just the same as the road there, with its juiceboxes, gameboys and desert toilets, but we had a whole new geographical vocab to work with. Just ask Liam and you're bound to hear 'Omani, Muscat, Wadi, Henna and Shwarma'. Mission accomplished.
For photos and slideshow go to:
http://wattskidsinaction.shutterfly.com/
I should have known if we tell people we're driving to another middle-eastern country with our children in the back seat, that we'd have people worried and waiting for us to make it home safe. Sorry for this. We are home. We are safe. We had an excellent time. And if this travel sounds exotic and adventurous, just remember that kids will spill juice boxes and spouses will bicker about the map and that gas station toilets basically stink no matter where on the planet you are. So the actual drive was pretty much like driving from Chicago to St. Louis, only without the corn fields.
A Safe Trip?
Oman has been a peaceful place for a very long time, as has the UAE, and the whole pointed peninsula is safe for travelling around by car. The only questionable aspect is the 4 hour stretch of desert between Dubai and the mountains of Muscat, but there are gas stations every 80-100 kilometers and the Omanis do in fact speak some English.
Desert and Rocky Peaks
Dubai and Sharjah are mostly a developed coastal desert, and as you drive out of town towards Oman, the landscape is gentle rolling dunes with scrub. As you get further inland the dunes flatten to a more gravelly looking dismal gray. But as you near the Omani coast, you pass through the striking jutting rocky mountains of Oman, which are grey, pointy and jagged. These mountains press the city of Muscat into the Gulf of Oman, and the actual cityscape has been built atop and between the jutty peaks of rock. The gulf water is stunning, blue and warm.
Chamois Guy, Dolphins and Forts
We chose a resort called Shangri-la, a few miles down the coast from the capital, for their multiple pools, beach access, and a raved-about breakfast buffet. It was more D-luxe than we imagined, especially the chamois-guy, whose only apparent job was to wander about the pool and beach and offer to clean your shades, all done with a brilliant southeast Asian smile. With the variety of restaurants and pools, (and other doting melon-pushing staff) we could have spent the entire six days on resort.
But the tourist attractions were beckoning, and after just a day and a half of R&R, we embarked on a tour of the sites. These included dolphin watching, tiny mountaintop forts, old enlarged European sketches of the city, and an excellent souk where you could buy anything from traditional costumes to incense burners to henna powder for tatoos and giant shiny swords. My favorite thing though, is the public art of Muscat. The traffic circles and many of the overpasses offer sculptures (traditional coffee pots and boats) and tiled art (scenes of fishing and sword battles). Just imagine Billy driving around the traffic circles, window down, and me invading his driver-seat lap trying to get a good shot with my camera, with locals lined up in their cars behind us, beeping and annoyed. (photos at linkbelow).
Mutton and Fruit
The food in Oman is influenced by the Indians and Lebanese who for a long time were the primary immigrants, so we ate lots of lamb, eggplant and grape leaves. The kids enjoyed watermelon and mango juices every day for breakfast and we ate numerous shwarma (something akin to a gyro sandwich) and mutton-kebob.
The Road Home
After six days of chamois-guys, dolphins and Omani heritage, we were ready to get back to life. The road home was just the same as the road there, with its juiceboxes, gameboys and desert toilets, but we had a whole new geographical vocab to work with. Just ask Liam and you're bound to hear 'Omani, Muscat, Wadi, Henna and Shwarma'. Mission accomplished.
For photos and slideshow go to:
http://wattskidsinaction.shutterfly.com/
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Maths Invigilation
I know some of you are waiting for our news from Oman (amazing trip and lots of photos being organized now), and others of you are waiting for my response to your personal emails. But our Internet service at home has been down for several days now (Billy's about to strangle the technician scheduler), and I've not got lots of extra time at work. However, I've just been through an interesting cultural experience that I think I've got just enough time to share with you.
Bear in mind please that in the UAE and much of the Gulf region they speak an English that we linguists like to call 'Global English'. What that means is they've taken on a British vernacular in business, an American vernacular in daily life, and then put their own Arabic-influenced accent on top of it. My workplace is dominated by British materials and people, and therefore we operate under British norms. So you think, What does this mean? British norms. It means 'MathS' for example, MathS with an 'S'. And it means 'faffing around' instead of 'messing around', and it means that when you say the word 'meeting', you must say it in an awfully formal and English-ey way - super-pronouncing the T, ie. meeeTing, if you want anyone to take you seriously.
Two days ago, I got an email with this subject line: MATHS Invigilation. And I'm thinking this must be a typo or some wierd joke from the guys who teach mathS and statistics or some new word invented by a student assistant, you know, in the place of maybe invigoration, imagination, invitation and so on. But the Scottish, English and Turkish faculty in my little quad of cubes are all shocked when I ask 'what on earth is INVIGILATION?'! And so they tell me that it's the same as what on American campuses is called test proctoring. Now I love the English folks most of the time, and I find their accent lovely in fact, but here's where I say, come on guys, Are You Serious?
The email informed me that it was my turn to proctor (or INVIGILATE) a test for the mathS department. On the appointed day I showed up at the Multi-purpose Hall and in filed almost 200 first year business students with their pencils, erasers and calculators. My job was to make sure they all signed in and took their seats. Once the test began, I had to pace the aisles with 6 other faculty, looking over the shoulders of the test takers. During this 90 minute test here were some cultural observations I was able to make. First off, the vast majority of these women have large, bling-bling style, expensive brand-name handbags, all gently placed at the foot of their desks. Second, at least 6 in ten have elaborate henna tatoos on their hands. Though these wear off after several weeks, I've noticed that some of my gals go weekly for new ones to the salon. Also, though I have only two gals who cover their faces during my class, five more of them chose to wear veils in the test situation, due to the presence of male INVIGILATORS. This is still striking to me, since in some ways this country can seem so Western and only very mildly Islamic. But it's striking again when I think about how absolutely shocking the 'real world' (Mall of the Emirates) must be for these people whose parents hardly ever heard English in the streets or saw uncovered women around town. At any rate, the lovely thing about INVIGILATION is that since it is a completely silent environment, I was allowed the luxury of taking my cultural observations and mulling them over bit by bit, as I wandered between the Louis Vuitton and the Prada, the Henna and the Veils.
Bear in mind please that in the UAE and much of the Gulf region they speak an English that we linguists like to call 'Global English'. What that means is they've taken on a British vernacular in business, an American vernacular in daily life, and then put their own Arabic-influenced accent on top of it. My workplace is dominated by British materials and people, and therefore we operate under British norms. So you think, What does this mean? British norms. It means 'MathS' for example, MathS with an 'S'. And it means 'faffing around' instead of 'messing around', and it means that when you say the word 'meeting', you must say it in an awfully formal and English-ey way - super-pronouncing the T, ie. meeeTing, if you want anyone to take you seriously.
Two days ago, I got an email with this subject line: MATHS Invigilation. And I'm thinking this must be a typo or some wierd joke from the guys who teach mathS and statistics or some new word invented by a student assistant, you know, in the place of maybe invigoration, imagination, invitation and so on. But the Scottish, English and Turkish faculty in my little quad of cubes are all shocked when I ask 'what on earth is INVIGILATION?'! And so they tell me that it's the same as what on American campuses is called test proctoring. Now I love the English folks most of the time, and I find their accent lovely in fact, but here's where I say, come on guys, Are You Serious?
The email informed me that it was my turn to proctor (or INVIGILATE) a test for the mathS department. On the appointed day I showed up at the Multi-purpose Hall and in filed almost 200 first year business students with their pencils, erasers and calculators. My job was to make sure they all signed in and took their seats. Once the test began, I had to pace the aisles with 6 other faculty, looking over the shoulders of the test takers. During this 90 minute test here were some cultural observations I was able to make. First off, the vast majority of these women have large, bling-bling style, expensive brand-name handbags, all gently placed at the foot of their desks. Second, at least 6 in ten have elaborate henna tatoos on their hands. Though these wear off after several weeks, I've noticed that some of my gals go weekly for new ones to the salon. Also, though I have only two gals who cover their faces during my class, five more of them chose to wear veils in the test situation, due to the presence of male INVIGILATORS. This is still striking to me, since in some ways this country can seem so Western and only very mildly Islamic. But it's striking again when I think about how absolutely shocking the 'real world' (Mall of the Emirates) must be for these people whose parents hardly ever heard English in the streets or saw uncovered women around town. At any rate, the lovely thing about INVIGILATION is that since it is a completely silent environment, I was allowed the luxury of taking my cultural observations and mulling them over bit by bit, as I wandered between the Louis Vuitton and the Prada, the Henna and the Veils.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Road Trip to Oman
The country of Oman borders the UAE and you can get to it's historic and temperate coast in about 5 hours by car. So when I got news from the Sheik in my email that the end of Ramadan this year will be celebrated with a whole week off, we decided to take our first road trip. En route, there is supposedly some unique mountain and desert scenery. We're leaving tomorrow and will be staying at the Shangri-La resort a few miles outside of Muscat, on the Omani coast. It's an historic coastal village with a renowned bazaar and old-time fishing boats. I'm not sure whether we'll be online much since the goal is to get away and relax - so watch for our next news in about a week.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Ramadan
We are in the middle of Ramadan, a one-month religious period of fasting and prayer for Muslims and it's taking its toll on our Christian sensibilities.
For starters, it is illegal to be seen in public consuming anything, including water, chewing gum, tobacco and any form of food between sunrise (around 6:10) and sunset (round 6:30). This might not be so bad if it weren't still over 100 degrees most days. And though it does not apply to children (or pregnant women), most people put their kids on a kiddie fast, which means nothing between meals. For us, this means being very discrete about carrying water with us for the kids. If we are seen to be breaking the rules ourselves, the fine can be upwards of $300. On top of this, most shops are closed from 1pm till 8 or so, so taking care of any business or errands during this month, especially if you are a working person, is almost impossible. At work, hotels and even some of the western shopping centers, there are dedicated govt. approved cafes (tucked out of view) where non-muslims can legally eat lunch and drink water, but they're generally not convenient. So pretty much every other day at work, since the special cafe is two buildings away, my co-workers and I suffer headaches and loss of concentration due to dehydration. Fun huh?
On the flipside, because of shortened school and work schedules, people end up spending a lot more quality time at home, with their families, than they do during the rest of the year. It also means that if you do venture out after your kids' bed time, the streets are bustling, the shopping centers have special booths with decorations and Ramadan sweets and tents are set up for late community buffet meals. We've gone to a couple of these Ramadan dinners, called Iftar, and the food is wonderful, with traditional flat breads, spreads made with eggplant, beans and cream, roasted lamb and a local fish called Hamour, and a great variety of desserts made with dates, pistachios and honey. Philanthropic groups take advantage of the period to collect money since people are concerned about the community. The locals are very proud of their maintenance of this tradition, and if you ask them whether fasting is harmful to their bodies and dispositions, they'll tell you that Allah would not do any of his people permanent harm.
At work, though the students do go home early and supposedly get naps, they are all quite tired. Their family responsibilities during Ramadan during the dark hours are important. They eat together, visit the mosque, go out about town with their parents, and therefore they are not only dehydrated, cranky and hungry, but sleep-deprived too. This combination of teachers with headaches and sleepy students makes it very hard for us to accomplish our goals for the month. The cultural experience is definitely what I was after when I took the job, but it will take the whole month to get the hang of the tradition of Ramadan.
For starters, it is illegal to be seen in public consuming anything, including water, chewing gum, tobacco and any form of food between sunrise (around 6:10) and sunset (round 6:30). This might not be so bad if it weren't still over 100 degrees most days. And though it does not apply to children (or pregnant women), most people put their kids on a kiddie fast, which means nothing between meals. For us, this means being very discrete about carrying water with us for the kids. If we are seen to be breaking the rules ourselves, the fine can be upwards of $300. On top of this, most shops are closed from 1pm till 8 or so, so taking care of any business or errands during this month, especially if you are a working person, is almost impossible. At work, hotels and even some of the western shopping centers, there are dedicated govt. approved cafes (tucked out of view) where non-muslims can legally eat lunch and drink water, but they're generally not convenient. So pretty much every other day at work, since the special cafe is two buildings away, my co-workers and I suffer headaches and loss of concentration due to dehydration. Fun huh?
On the flipside, because of shortened school and work schedules, people end up spending a lot more quality time at home, with their families, than they do during the rest of the year. It also means that if you do venture out after your kids' bed time, the streets are bustling, the shopping centers have special booths with decorations and Ramadan sweets and tents are set up for late community buffet meals. We've gone to a couple of these Ramadan dinners, called Iftar, and the food is wonderful, with traditional flat breads, spreads made with eggplant, beans and cream, roasted lamb and a local fish called Hamour, and a great variety of desserts made with dates, pistachios and honey. Philanthropic groups take advantage of the period to collect money since people are concerned about the community. The locals are very proud of their maintenance of this tradition, and if you ask them whether fasting is harmful to their bodies and dispositions, they'll tell you that Allah would not do any of his people permanent harm.
At work, though the students do go home early and supposedly get naps, they are all quite tired. Their family responsibilities during Ramadan during the dark hours are important. They eat together, visit the mosque, go out about town with their parents, and therefore they are not only dehydrated, cranky and hungry, but sleep-deprived too. This combination of teachers with headaches and sleepy students makes it very hard for us to accomplish our goals for the month. The cultural experience is definitely what I was after when I took the job, but it will take the whole month to get the hang of the tradition of Ramadan.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Week in the Life
Since it was my birthday, I finally had good reason to stop and linger at the pastry counter at the market. Billy and the kids helped me pick out a selection of local pastries, most made with honey, pistachios, fried dough or a delicate combination. As I have the naughty but comforting habit of scrounging for a 9pm snack, you can imagine how excited I was as we ordered the sticky, sweet, nest-shaped pistachio filled tarts and chewy cheese pastry topped with fine sweetened strands of dough. We put a candle into one of the nesty things (see photo) and had a perfectly luscious birthday dessert.
Also this week we took the kids to Dreamland Aquapark, in an Emirate called Umm Al Quwain (two emirates from here). Since it is Ramadan, and most families are resting and praying during the day with shortened work schedules and store hours, this month is a particularly nice time to visit tourist venues, since they're mostly empty. It was about 103 degrees that day, so even Billy and I stayed in the water the entire time - we were there for five hours, and when they closed early, due to Ramadan, the kids were bummed that we couldn't make a second round to all of the attractions, slides, luges, lazy river, vortex dump ride, family raft, volcano pool, large covered 12-pooljacuzzi (not hot but cold) and wave pool. We've promised another trip when it gets a bit cooler.
At work today, I had a student ask an interesting question. Consider that the topic in our coursebook right now is culture shock and that her question actually fit into a much larger discussion. Also consider that this is one of the more fluent students in the class. First she told me she had a question but she did not want to bother me, and she was sorry if it was a question that didn't matter and then explained that she was shy about this question but that her classmates all were curious, (this extremely long and hedging intro made me nervous by the way) she said this: 'I hear that Americans are afraid of mid-east people and is that true and then why do you come here'? I was kind of waiting for this question from someone but I was still surprised when I got it. I took my time and first let the student know that she need not apologize for her question. I'd tell her if the question wasn't appropriate. Then I said that some Americans are afraid of mid-east people because of a history of terrorism that people associate with Islam, which brings to mind the Gulf Region. I continued to say that many more Americans are curious about the mid-east, and have more interest than fear regarding the region, more because I felt that this was a necessary answer, whether it was really true or not. I'd love any of y'all's thoughts on this, since I'm sure it's not the first time I'll get this. Looking forward to your comments.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Arabic, Urdu, or English?
I was just about to work on my latest pondering from our sand-road villa about Language, and Rosie sidled up to say, 'Can we go back to Grandma's house now? And play with my cousin Toby?' So perhaps first I ought to address the homesickness and the guilt you feel about dragging your kids away from the familiar, their own schools, their pals since birth, and of course, from a quick plane ride to Grandma's. Though we're settling in well, the kids are all enrolled at the Australian school, and Billy's been busy networking, there is a clear void left by Grandma and all the TLC the kids got while spending a big chunk of their summer with her. Grandma and Grandpa and the doting aunties Janell & Sarah, as well as Uncle Bern and his dogs in Colorado, our fake but FUN Aunties Jill and Ann in Chicago, and of course our best Colorado pals the Bieners made our transition here easier for sure. But at the same time it became even more difficult as we had to say goodbye to such an awesome and supportive American village. Thanks guys!
Now on to the topic at hand: Language. The language situation in the UAE is my current challenge, and so far I've figured out this much: I need to learn Urdu. With Arabic as the native language and English as the language of commerce you'd think that being American would give me an edge. But it doesn't mean a whole lot when an Urdu-speaking taxi driver from India, who's only been here 13 days picks you up, and can't figure out where it is you want to go. It also doesn't help when the Pakistani Urdu speaker who has come to put together your Ikea furniture tries to tell you he'll come back and finish the job another day. So I've learned to say How are You in Urdu - maybe this will help.
Because the locals here are a minority, (Emiratis make up less than 25 percent of the total population), and because cheap foreign labor from poor countries makes up another 25 percent, the language most often spoken is indeed English. This makes the prospect of learning Arabic for me and Billy quite hard, as anyone we'd want to practice with will either not be a speaker of Arabic in the first place, or simply be unwilling to tolerate our attempts at Arabic. So in the mean time, I'm relying on Arabic lessons from Brady. He studies Arabic every day in school and comes home with tricky Arabic body part games. As you might imagine, he gets a great thrill when I actually get it wrong.
So for those of you planning to visit here, you need not have any anxiety about speaking the language. You will certainly get by with your English, but picking up an Urdu phrase book might not be a bad idea.
Now on to the topic at hand: Language. The language situation in the UAE is my current challenge, and so far I've figured out this much: I need to learn Urdu. With Arabic as the native language and English as the language of commerce you'd think that being American would give me an edge. But it doesn't mean a whole lot when an Urdu-speaking taxi driver from India, who's only been here 13 days picks you up, and can't figure out where it is you want to go. It also doesn't help when the Pakistani Urdu speaker who has come to put together your Ikea furniture tries to tell you he'll come back and finish the job another day. So I've learned to say How are You in Urdu - maybe this will help.
Because the locals here are a minority, (Emiratis make up less than 25 percent of the total population), and because cheap foreign labor from poor countries makes up another 25 percent, the language most often spoken is indeed English. This makes the prospect of learning Arabic for me and Billy quite hard, as anyone we'd want to practice with will either not be a speaker of Arabic in the first place, or simply be unwilling to tolerate our attempts at Arabic. So in the mean time, I'm relying on Arabic lessons from Brady. He studies Arabic every day in school and comes home with tricky Arabic body part games. As you might imagine, he gets a great thrill when I actually get it wrong.
So for those of you planning to visit here, you need not have any anxiety about speaking the language. You will certainly get by with your English, but picking up an Urdu phrase book might not be a bad idea.
Friday, September 5, 2008
On the Job Front
After three weeks of orientation and training and one full week of teaching, I am finally ready to write about my job. I got exactly the type of assignment I was hoping for but was told I probably would not get during my first year. Here's the lo-down:
The Institution
Sharjah Women's College is a division of the Higher Colleges for Technology (HCT), which was founded 20 years ago. HCT is the biggest institution of Higher Learning in the UAE. We have sixteen campuses, mens and womens, around the Emirates, with six major degree programs: Education, Business, IT, Health Sciences, Engineering and Graphic Arts. Degrees are offered at the Diploma level (like an American Associates Degree), Bachelor's level, and soon there will be Masters programs available. Currently, only Emirati students are admitted and student fees are paid by the government.
The Campus
Our campus is located in University City, a giant well groomed desert village where four major Universities and several smaller institutes have taken up residence. Imagine large white stucco-colored domed buildings surrounded by wide marble plazas with palms and fountains. The Women's college, Men's College and shared Sports complex probably span five kilometers. The Women's College has about 8 buildings, mostly connected by covered walkways as shelter from the sun.
The Job
I teach English to groups of 18-20 students who are doing Business and IT degrees. These gals have already taken one year of English-only intensive courses, so they're able to converse casually and write paragraph-level papers in English. The goal seem s to be vocational and commercial English, aiming towards work-placement. The huge influx of foreigners has got the locals wanting a more prominent place in commerce, thus a push for 'Emiratization' of the work force, and the education of any willing college-aged student, with a focus on fluency in English.
Students
Most of my students are 19 or 20 years old and from large Muslim families (7-9 kids)
The dress code for students requires the abaya, a simple black robe typical of locals around town, with 'decent' clothes underneath. There is not any head-cover requirement, so the students' choice of cover varies. I teach a total of 38 students between my classes and two of them choose to be totally veiled. Two others choose no head cover at all. These two gals are usually sporting Converse brand shoes and blue jeans under their abayas, and make no effort to conceal what they're wearing under the uniform. The rest cover all but their faces or have a little bit of hair (often highlight streaked) peaking out.
My Colleagues
A third of my colleagues have been here for more than three years, another third are in their first three-year contract, and about a third just started like I did. Americans are a small minority among the faculty. The countries represented are Jordan, Lebanon, Iran, Turkey, Hungary, Scotland, Ireland, England, Canada (lots of them), Columbia, Sudan, Egypt, Malaysia, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand. I have a spacious sunny cubicle (will post photo later) and my cube faces the work space of Aysen (from Turkey), Scott (from Scotland) and Nikki (from England).
More to come later:
Facilities and Resources
Campus Rules
Classroom Anecdotes
Work Ethic
Calendar
Teaching During Ramadan
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Billy & Rosie Have Arrived
Since Billy and Rosie got here two nights ago (I can't say how happy this makes me to have us all under one grand roof again), we've been to the Choral Beach Resort Club in Sharjah and the Gold Souk & Textile Souk in Dubai.
Expats living in Sharjah join the beach clubs at waterfront hotels, where bikinis are de rigeur, and you don't need to worry about funny looks from the mostly local male bathers at the public beaches.
The Dubai Souks are grand bazaars where hundreds of stallkeepers maintain tiny store fronts to sell their wares.
Enjoy the pictures, and I'll send along more details at a later point. Working by day and getting to know the area by night is seriously tiring..
Sunday, August 31, 2008
The Long Version of the Week Ending Aug. 31, by Angie Brady
This past week has provided me with some new adventures....firstly driving...oh boy! Christina went out with me and acted as navigator while I did the driving. Firstly, it gave me some experience behind the wheel in this place of crazy drivers...by the way, the number one cause of death in this area is car accidents...scary! Secondly, it gave Christina a break from trying to navigate while driving. I have a problem of trying to read street names like Sheik Mojid Bin Sawr Al Qasimi Street or Abdulla Bin Salim Al Sabah Street or Sheik Saleem Bin Sultan Al Qasimi Street. Then...these names are on round-a-bout signs along with the Arabic writing with other names that are telling you which way to go. Most intersections are round-a-bouts and not real turns. It's a real challenge. Christina & I have driven around round-a-bouts several times just to try to get on the correct roads. The day that I took Brady & Liam to school for their assessments I drove by myself. I was very pleased that I arrived at the school with just one minimal problem. Going home, however, was another story. I thought I would do some grocery shopping for Christina. After leaving the grocery store, I spent 2 hours trying to find my way home. I knew I was close several times. Finally Christina arrived home and talked me through it on the cell phone.
The shopping here is unbelievable. High end stores from European and American countries have a big presence. We went to the Mall of the Emirates....the famous giant mall on Sat. It was big and beautiful. I loved all of the shops that carried clothes and items from the Mideast. I feel like I need to be listening to Yo Yo Ma's Silk Road Adventure while writing about this.
This is where the famous indoor ski area is located. It was an unbelievable sight to see people skiing and tubing in an indoor arena. Christina & Billy & the kids will celebrate Brady's birthday there in the next week. He will be 8 tomorrow.
There were also water fountains spurting from the ground dancing to synchronized music. The boys played in water fountains until a security guard came to scold us for breaking the rules that we were unaware of. We were scolded but did not cause an international incident.
When we left the Mall of the Emirates we were lucky to secure a wonderful Indian taxi driver who was willing and happy to take us on a tour to see the Jumeirah Palm Island, the 8th Wonder of the World (island shaped like a palm tree); the Burj Al Arab (The world's tallest and most luxurious hotel)...the first 7 star hotel. We also saw the construction project of the tallest building in the world to be completed in 2010. Another taller building is being planned to begin construction in 2010. Dubai is truly a cosmopolitan city. People from everywhere in the world work and visit here. The taxi driver pointed out that the skyline of the city was not in existence 3 years ago. EVERYTHING is new! The architecture is very modern. We drove along the road along the Gulf through Dubai to Sharjah. These emerits are side by side but getting from one to another can be a very long haul during rush hour.
We attended mass at a Catholic Church in Sharjah. The congregation was almost all Indian with other people probably from Asia & the Philippines. There were only 2 other Anglo's besides us in the full church. People arrived early and said the rosary before mass. The whole altar area & most of the church was white marble. It was beautiful and bright. Most of the songs were familiar and the mass was sung by the priest, which does not happen very often anymore in the US accept for very special occasions. The people sang heartily...a pleasure for me. The Indian women had beautiful traditional dresses of many colors. As I said before in an earlier entry, the women are of great interest to me. Of the men, I have yet to gain any understanding except that they come from a different planet when they get behind the wheel.
The wealth here is another aspect of this area that is really amazing. The families, average 7.7 persons per household, and have servants, not usually one but possibly many. There are nannies and house keepers...some acting as both. There could be a few nannies in homes depending how many children are in the home. I see the nannies everywhere we go. They are generally with the children trailing behind their mother. I don't see much joy in their faces and feel like they are sad. They work hard and are away from their homeland and really have tough jobs caring for these children. The guide book stated that abuse of these house helpers sometimes exists but there is no recourse for them. The advice is that they work harder to get along with their employers. The country is now working on human rights issues. I really don't know much about that yet.
Enough for now.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Photo Upload Issues
If anyone knows a secret to posting photos here I'd love to know it. I have 15 additional pics to share with the previous post but the system asks me to try again later. Any ideas? Should I just post them at shutterfly and provide a link here instead?
Mostly Pictures Here, and the Skinny on Booze
Hello All,
If you've asked for more photos, we've got some here:
Brady & Liam's new school bus, which has drop down DVD machines
(we are currently on the wait list for bus service)
Liam in kitchen
Catholic church in Sharjah, St. Michael's
Shop signs with Arabic
Ski Dubai (we went just to look and gather info., will actually ski some time soon)
Lebanese restaurant overlooking Ski Dubai
Mall of the Emirates (they claim it's the biggest in the world)
Burj Al Arab - famous sail-shaped building in Dubai
Hotel on the Palm Jumeira (famous palm shaped island in the Gulf)
As for your questions about alcohol, it is true that there are no bars or liquor stores in Sharjah where we live. But imagine Louisville, Colorado, 12 miles from Boulder, and that's our relationship with Dubai, where there are many bars and hotel restaurants serving from fully stocked bars. We also can get a personal alcohol license to purchase alcohol from a state-run store in Dubai, for consumption in our homes. However, this is not available until October, when the Ramadan fasting period is over.
Enjoy the pics from Grandma's camera, and I'll write more soon when I've gotten over the inconvenient cold that's currently wearing me out. By the way, no alcoholic cough remedies here, but I did pick up a completely root-based remedy at the pharmacy which was 100% effective for my cough.
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