Snakes are not snacks, right? And fuzzy / fizzy drinks?? Which is it?
Now that I've properly medicated my migraine, I'd like to put all the ridiculousness of my work day in order.
For starters, one of my 'to do' items was to get through the marking of 21 research papers on nutrition. Don't know how I expected to do this, with four hours of special event duty (involving a cute wallpapered MINI COOPER car, see below), one session professional training, and a test to finish preparing for teachers. But alas, the student writings are what provide the color and chuckle to my week, and I am grateful these reports on eating habits were there at my desk. As you might imagine, 'snack' and 'coke' are top ten words in the world of nutrition, fuzzy (fizzy) drinks and oh yes fatty asses, ooops, I mean fatty acids. When the first student said something like, 'my family has a bad habit of eating snakes in front of the TV', I was like, giggle giggle, funny little Microsoft typo, her family eats snakes, teehee. But as I went on to find fizzy spelled fuzzy, and acid spelled asses, and yep, coke spelled like this:: cock, I really started wondering where the paper dictionaries are, and the lined composition books, and spelling practice lists. Seriously, I am not making these up: 'family snaking is a big problem', 'our snake habit is harming our health', and 'sweet snakes are my weakness' were all among the neatly organized fairly well cited little research papers.
Between quick bouts of grading these gems, I had 'escort duty' at the business department mini-mall project, where local retailers, such as Mini Cooper, BMW, Body Shop and Sunglass Hut, set up stalls, to be run by students, for an exercise in retail management. Just as my monthly migraine was gearing up for a massive crescendo, I somehow got drafted to escort female students on Mini Cooper test drives, as it would be improper for the males running the MINI stall to be alone in the car with our female students. Yes, you are all thinking, come on Christina, how many of us get paid to sit in the passenger seat of a zippy car on a sunny day and let students drive us around with the sunroof open? Well, let me just share a few facts: Most of our students are not licensed drivers. Of those who are licensed, many simply have the license as a matter of their education, and do not actually get to practice real driving. In addition, as this was a marketing thing for MINI, I was told: let them enjoy the drive, read: let them blare Indian pop music with their friends in the back seat as you drive around nearly missing the light posts, curbs and security guards lining the route. And last facts: my migraine meds were simply not working and I am employed by an institution where calling in sick, or going home with a headache, is not an easily-done thing.
So it's no wonder that when I finally get home to my husband whose car had just been hit and run in front of the kids' school, after we just dented up the vehicle ourselves by backing into a local fisherman's well over the weekend, that I burst into hysterics. That's when I went into the house, found myself a snake, a fuzzy drink, and a bowlful of fatty asses.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Rainy Days
I've been here in the Middle-East for two glorious winters, so I can now pronounce that I am an expert on UAE climate, don't you think? Despite the horrid 120 degree summers, which do begin before teaching ends and we all go away for the worst of it, the UAE winters are gorgeous, cool, dry, sunny stretches of pleasant eat-outdoors weather. My husband Billy has been taking every opportunity to fire up the grill, not only for the perfectly grilled mini-chicken pieces (harder to find hormone-grown plump birds here), but for the actual warmth provided by the grill on the chilly desert-winter nights. We actually refuse to dine in restaurants without al fresco seating right now, and routinely have our moring coffee outside. Life is good.
But last week, for the second time this winter, the rain came. It was as it is in novels, people smelling the rain, watching the sky for the rain, and predicting the rain for a few long unusually cloudy days, until the storm finally came and dumped several inches onto us and the sand, literally at once. They say it comes down harder and in greater quantities than in the past, and even more often. Though it hardly seems possible, since for two years now, there has been a sum total of two rainy spells each winter. When the downpour started, I have to say I was confused because we live in the Dubai Airport flight pattern, and the rain came down with such force that at first I thought it was a low-flying plane. But when it didn't stop after a minute and a half, I got out of bed, looked out onto the pool where I could hardly see its outline. It was a downpour, a fierce, heavy, steady opening of the sky. It went on like this for around an hour, after which I gently settled back into sleep, with the satisfaction of the unusual smell of rain in the air. How absolutely lovely I thought. The smell of rain.
The next morning's reality though, was anything but lovely. Roads were clogged and closed and blocked and cars were upto the runnung boards in water, plodding through to work and school, where everyone was late and nothing got done. The roads here are built to some strange desert standards, which means they simply do not drain, until the sun comes out to dry it up, or the big orange sucker trucks come to drain the low-lying roads and cart the water out to the gulf. So after an evening of rain-smell bliss, we suffered through two days of awful traffic, cancelled classes, required meetings and near-miss collisions with clueless people in the pond-strewn roads. There you have it. True Emirati Living.
But last week, for the second time this winter, the rain came. It was as it is in novels, people smelling the rain, watching the sky for the rain, and predicting the rain for a few long unusually cloudy days, until the storm finally came and dumped several inches onto us and the sand, literally at once. They say it comes down harder and in greater quantities than in the past, and even more often. Though it hardly seems possible, since for two years now, there has been a sum total of two rainy spells each winter. When the downpour started, I have to say I was confused because we live in the Dubai Airport flight pattern, and the rain came down with such force that at first I thought it was a low-flying plane. But when it didn't stop after a minute and a half, I got out of bed, looked out onto the pool where I could hardly see its outline. It was a downpour, a fierce, heavy, steady opening of the sky. It went on like this for around an hour, after which I gently settled back into sleep, with the satisfaction of the unusual smell of rain in the air. How absolutely lovely I thought. The smell of rain.
The next morning's reality though, was anything but lovely. Roads were clogged and closed and blocked and cars were upto the runnung boards in water, plodding through to work and school, where everyone was late and nothing got done. The roads here are built to some strange desert standards, which means they simply do not drain, until the sun comes out to dry it up, or the big orange sucker trucks come to drain the low-lying roads and cart the water out to the gulf. So after an evening of rain-smell bliss, we suffered through two days of awful traffic, cancelled classes, required meetings and near-miss collisions with clueless people in the pond-strewn roads. There you have it. True Emirati Living.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Elephants and Chai
If you've lived in the Gulf for a while, it's no big deal when your friends go off on a vacation to India. It's a normal thing, a 3-hour flight, like an extended weekend with the gals in Napa Valley. But to a lot of us, especially those from clean and remote North America, going to India is still exotic, a little scary, and well, a major undertaking. Or so I thought.
We decided to spend my two-week college break in India, largely because of the airfare (under $300 per ticket) and because our old pals from Colorado are now living in Bangalore and they extended an invitation to their home. We bought our tickets, borrowed a guide book, visited the pharmacist and off we were, two packs of malaria pills and one family-sized immodium pack later.
Our decision to stay in Southern India was made mostly with the kids in mind. India is big (who knew?) and road travel and day trips are slow. (...think 4 lanes of cars on two-lane roads, sharing with cows, cycles, monkeys, rickshaws and ladies carrying firewood on their heads..) We visited our friends in Bangalore for three days which included an all-day outing to Mysore. The palace there, where Indian royals still live, is well worth the potholed-three-hour treck from Bangalore, and the Hindu imagery painted and sculpted throughout the place is amazing. But poor 5-year-old Rosie, just when she was getting the hang of being a Christian in a Muslim country, we take her to a place where the gods have 12 arms and the heads of elephants. Surely, we tell ourselves, this confusion is really just a world-citizen in the making.
Our Banglore friends helped us arrange family-friendly lodging, first in Tea Country near Munnar, and then in the Backwaters, where the most popular activity is touring the canals via houseboat. Tea country is gorgeous and rugged, mile upon mile of nearly vertically planted groves of Tea, where every morning we looked out onto the green hills dotted with colorful and quiet tea workers picking the leaves by hand.
We decided to spend my two-week college break in India, largely because of the airfare (under $300 per ticket) and because our old pals from Colorado are now living in Bangalore and they extended an invitation to their home. We bought our tickets, borrowed a guide book, visited the pharmacist and off we were, two packs of malaria pills and one family-sized immodium pack later.
Our decision to stay in Southern India was made mostly with the kids in mind. India is big (who knew?) and road travel and day trips are slow. (...think 4 lanes of cars on two-lane roads, sharing with cows, cycles, monkeys, rickshaws and ladies carrying firewood on their heads..) We visited our friends in Bangalore for three days which included an all-day outing to Mysore. The palace there, where Indian royals still live, is well worth the potholed-three-hour treck from Bangalore, and the Hindu imagery painted and sculpted throughout the place is amazing. But poor 5-year-old Rosie, just when she was getting the hang of being a Christian in a Muslim country, we take her to a place where the gods have 12 arms and the heads of elephants. Surely, we tell ourselves, this confusion is really just a world-citizen in the making.
Our Banglore friends helped us arrange family-friendly lodging, first in Tea Country near Munnar, and then in the Backwaters, where the most popular activity is touring the canals via houseboat. Tea country is gorgeous and rugged, mile upon mile of nearly vertically planted groves of Tea, where every morning we looked out onto the green hills dotted with colorful and quiet tea workers picking the leaves by hand.
The best thing about hanging out in this part of India for me was the Masala Chai, a spicy Indian black tea served uniquely wherever you go. It's amazing with the caffeine that I got any sleep at all. The kids favorite part was surely the animals - the nature, the mango and papaya trees, cashew trees, vanilla beans, fields of lemon grass, cardamom, and coffee plantations, which all offered a natural background for outings, which was new and vibrant and funny, including a one-armed monkey eating coconuts and a guy chopping fruit with a giant cartoon-sized knife. We went on every India tourist's 'must-do' elephant ride where we fed the enormous laid-back animal whole pineapples onto the end of his curled trunk while sitting on his back. The boys absolutely loved the feeding part, and they were game to wait again in line, not for the ride, but to get the elephant to pluck food from their hands with his trunk. We also cruised the backwaters on a houseboat for a day, where we saw villagers doing their wash, rice workers out in their fields and Kingfishers diving for dinner. Billy enjoyed the bird viewing, which included cormorants, egrets, cranes, kingfishers and lots of other diving birds with funny names and beaks and bright green feet. But I'm sure he also agrees with me that the local fruit, chili omelets, and Indian sambar for breakfast made each day excellent before it even got started.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Burj Dubai, Oops, I Meant Burj Khalifa
The opening of the world's tallest tower, The Burj Dubai, happened last night. Because the entire tower premises was reserved for VIPs, getting close was not an option, but we were lucky enough to watch it from the rooftop of a freind's villa. The view was lovely, and the 75 degree temperature was perfect for an evening outdoors.
If you follow this link, you can get an idea of what we saw.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yuk8bU-B5y4
The Burj Dubai (now renamed the Burj Khalifa by the Sheikh) is impressive against the modern but not very tall skyline of Dubai. It's over 800 meters tall, contains more than 50 elevators, houses Armani's flagship hotel, as well as deluxe residential flats and the world's tallest open-air observation deck, where a mere 50 dollar fee gets you access on the 'fast' elevator. And yes, it is shamefully impressive when you realize that so much of country's development has resulted in a massive world-famous debt crisis.
But alas, I have a job, and friends with cozy rooftops as well as an excellent family to kick around town with, so the debt crisis is as unreal to me as it might be to those of you who've never set foot in the middle east. The only really noticeable debt-related issue for us right now is that brunch reservations are easy to come by and the beaches are delightfully under-crowded. And oh yes, Billy's job has painlessly come to an end.
So we carry on with visits to our favorite stomping ground, the one-year-old Dubai Mall, which sits at the base of the Burj, where we've been dining regularly, not only to check in on the progress of the giant tower, but to take in the tallest choreographed fountain show in the world.
Check it out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYeFFyFJxqk
If you follow this link, you can get an idea of what we saw.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yuk8bU-B5y4
The Burj Dubai (now renamed the Burj Khalifa by the Sheikh) is impressive against the modern but not very tall skyline of Dubai. It's over 800 meters tall, contains more than 50 elevators, houses Armani's flagship hotel, as well as deluxe residential flats and the world's tallest open-air observation deck, where a mere 50 dollar fee gets you access on the 'fast' elevator. And yes, it is shamefully impressive when you realize that so much of country's development has resulted in a massive world-famous debt crisis.
But alas, I have a job, and friends with cozy rooftops as well as an excellent family to kick around town with, so the debt crisis is as unreal to me as it might be to those of you who've never set foot in the middle east. The only really noticeable debt-related issue for us right now is that brunch reservations are easy to come by and the beaches are delightfully under-crowded. And oh yes, Billy's job has painlessly come to an end.
So we carry on with visits to our favorite stomping ground, the one-year-old Dubai Mall, which sits at the base of the Burj, where we've been dining regularly, not only to check in on the progress of the giant tower, but to take in the tallest choreographed fountain show in the world.
Check it out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYeFFyFJxqk
Sunday, November 22, 2009
National Day
This week, the women at our college are celebrating National Day, and the country's 38th birthday, draping Emirati Flags over the doors, and wearing Sheikh Zayed-inspired buttons, sashes and even black, red and green nail polish. The atmosphere is so festive (green eye-shadow anyone? or gumballs with royal faces on them?) that it's been hard to accomplish anything serious in our classes.
Yesterday, to top off the festivities, we sojourned out the college gates on a 28-bus police-escorted convoy. The stated goal was to inspire national pride in the emirate's 'cultural and Islamic gems'. The highlight of this trip though, was an audience with His Highness (HH) Sheikh Sultan bin Mohammed Al Qasimi, Crown Prince and Deputy Ruler of Sharjah, and his entourage. This royal personage and his escorts are not much older than our students. He is handsome, well groomed, and fashionable (see Ray Ban shades in picture). And though most of the students do not consent to being photographed themselves, not one of them was without a camera to capture the arrival of the Prince.
You can see that hundreds of students joined this trip, but what you don't see are the students left behind. A small number of our students, who are 18-23 years old, are still tightly controlled by their guardians (brothers, husbands and fathers) and were not allowed on the excursion due to the 'improper' amount of time being spent 'in public'. There are days when elements of this culture do send me scratching my head (or worse). But then something always reminds me that 30 years ago, when this country had just been founded, the situation was even more archaic. Colleges didn't accept women, girls were married off at 14, and females did not drive. So in the grand scheme of things, the fact that most of our students were allowed a fun day out, with their pals, their Blackberries and triple-hued makeup, I'd say progress is being made, one National Day at a time.
Yesterday, to top off the festivities, we sojourned out the college gates on a 28-bus police-escorted convoy. The stated goal was to inspire national pride in the emirate's 'cultural and Islamic gems'. The highlight of this trip though, was an audience with His Highness (HH) Sheikh Sultan bin Mohammed Al Qasimi, Crown Prince and Deputy Ruler of Sharjah, and his entourage. This royal personage and his escorts are not much older than our students. He is handsome, well groomed, and fashionable (see Ray Ban shades in picture). And though most of the students do not consent to being photographed themselves, not one of them was without a camera to capture the arrival of the Prince.
You can see that hundreds of students joined this trip, but what you don't see are the students left behind. A small number of our students, who are 18-23 years old, are still tightly controlled by their guardians (brothers, husbands and fathers) and were not allowed on the excursion due to the 'improper' amount of time being spent 'in public'. There are days when elements of this culture do send me scratching my head (or worse). But then something always reminds me that 30 years ago, when this country had just been founded, the situation was even more archaic. Colleges didn't accept women, girls were married off at 14, and females did not drive. So in the grand scheme of things, the fact that most of our students were allowed a fun day out, with their pals, their Blackberries and triple-hued makeup, I'd say progress is being made, one National Day at a time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
