Easter in a Muslim Country

Another Christian holiday has come and gone for us here in the UAE, where the laws and supermarkets and work schedules are all governed by Islam. What this means for us and our celebration of Easter is digging deep into our pockets to purchase forbidden holiday sundry items such as ham and champagne, going out of our way to the Dubai Choithrams market whose holiday aisle includes chocolate bunnies, and the most strange thing is pretending it’s Easter when it’s actually Good Friday, since Sunday is a work day.

On Good Friday, we had 35 people join us for brunch, where we served leg of lamb as well as a large chunk of expensive French ham, along with quiche, mimosas, bunny cake and various salads and sides brought by our friends and colleagues. Our friend Heather even brought freshly risen dough and baked Challah in our uneven, hot-on-the-bottom Egyptian oven. Mini egg-shaped cupcakes were decorated by all the kids with our helper Chamry and her sister Ishara, and Billy and his Frisbee pals escaped for a half-hour of tossing the disc on the sandy roads around our house.

Holy Saturday was a special work day for me, and I spent half the day proctoring the local equivalent of the SAT exam. Though I was sulky about working on the weekend, the kids and Billy barely noticed my absence, and they spent the day eating chocolate and party leftovers.

Easter Sunday was a regular work day for me, but Billy’s company lets their people choose any religion and celebrate its holidays, so he was off work with kids while I tromped grumpily off to the office, again. It turned out to be a perfect day for swimming, so they made a day of it and went to Mamzar Beach Park, where they spent hours in the pools and at the beach on the Arabian Gulf (known as the Persian Gulf in America).

Finally, I made it home by 3:30 on Easter, just in time to help the kids shake off the sand, put on fresh Easter clothes (sent by Grandma) and head off to St. Michael’s Catholic Church in Sharjah, where just like at home, mobs of extra people (mostly Indian and Phillipino) showed up for Easter Sunday mass. Once again, as I’ve posted before, St. Joseph’s is an exultant experience, with loud and earnest singing, a pious Indian priest and a truly joyous observance of the most important Christian holiday.

Sigh of Relief

Here since August 2, this cultural and professional and family ride has been challenging (making my diva students work), rocky (watching new colleagues not pass their probationary year), rewarding (getting to understand the veil /watching students learn to enjoy reading), exhausting (blogging, working, reading to my children and exercising all while attempting to make friends, and connecting from time to time with my husband), confusing (traffic circles, over and over again / road signs in Arabic / Urdu-speaking taxi drivers), shocking (falcons and tigers for pets, and yes, some local men do have multiple wives) and exciting (brunch in the world's only 7 star hotel).

And I am pleased to say, look at me - after all this, they're keeping me - I have passed my probationary period! Big deal, you say? Yes, in fact, it is. With the economic situation as it is, and thousands of work visas being cancelled every month, and the newly jobless having only 30 days to pack up, sell their stuff and abandon their unsalable cars at the airport, anyone who has their contract renewed or confirmed can exercise their bragging rights. And thus shall I.

Somehow we have figured out how to make it all work, the new schools for the kids, a nanny helping with all aspects of our domestic life (lunch boxes, dirty laundry and Sri Lankan meals), Billy commuting long hours through Dubai traffic and often missing kids' bedtime, and my navigating through my first year working full-time since Brady's birth in 2000. We're doing it. The kids are happy most days. We have a big and comfortable home, albeit sandy and remote. And my employer sees fit to let me stay on for year 2 of my 3-year contract. Lucky me.