Jason and Camille in Abu Dhabi

Fashion in the Emirates--by Jason

2010-06-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

Unlike its glitzier neighbor to the north, Dubai, Abu Dhabi fashion seems to be a virtual oxymoron. Or perhaps eclectic would be a more culturally-sensitive description of local fashion in the city. Emiratis comprise about 10% of the population in Abu Dhabi (even less in Dubai), and their 'look' makes them nearly impossible to miss in a crowd.

Abu Dhabi fashion is very much a reflection of its diversity: socio-economic, cultural, and religious. Attire in this region, as in much of the world (and particularly in the developing world, I might postulate) tends to be a statement of one’s culture and socio-economic standing as much as one’s aesthetic or personal style. As crass as it may sound, it doesn’t take long living in this town (and Abu Dhabi often feels like a small town on some nameless modern frontier) to be able to discern where someone is from, who they pray to, and on which socio-economic rung they are perched. This assessment can be made based largely on their wardrobe. Work with me here.

For this blogpost I will focus on modern Emirati fashion, which is similar to that of other Khaleejis (Arabs living on the [Persian] Gulf). The look is black and white, depending on gender. I have met only a small handful of “locals” (as UAE Citizens/Emiratis are referred to here) who do not wear the traditional attire.

Emirati women wear what is called the abayya, or thin black floor-length robe. This is worn with the sheyla, or matching black headscarf elegantly wrapped around the shoulders and over the head. The young and hip tend to clip something onto their hair reminiscent of a large, fake chrysanthemum to create the appearance under the veil of voluptuous tresses. Then there are the accessories. This is how Emirati women display their individuality. The key words here are bling bling. The arms of the robe are often elaborately embroidered with all things shiny. Jewelry: two options- diamonds and gold. Shoes: colorful, tall, strappy, often gem-encrusted- usually not so subtle. And let’s not forget the perfume- really not even a remote possibility once one has experienced it. In a couple words: excess and oud. Oud is a traditional Arabic scent derived from a fragrant plant (like frankincense) which is often used as exotic air-freshener in public places. Usually an acquired taste among most Westerners (or foreigners as we are often referred to here). Did I really almost forget to mention the purses? I think the UAE alone keeps Gucci, Prada, Armani, Coach, Louis Vuitton accessories in business.

As for Emirati male fashion, it is very much the male equivalent of the female Emirati look, and just as consistent. White floor-length robes, referred to locally as the kandora. The Emirati dish-dash is similar to that of other Gulf states, including Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Qatar, Oman. Kandoras are usually meticulously tailored and starched, and are a source of pride among the lucky roughly 10% of UAE’s population (Emiratis) who are the only ones sporting these striking ensembles. The male Emirati look is not complete without the gutra wa hajal, or the generally white (and sometimes checkered red and white) headscarf, held in place by a couple black wool hoops. The Emirati headscarf seems to have a life of its own, and is worn in different styles. The younger or less formal wear the scarf without the hoops, tied around the head.

Male accessories? Ray Ban and Rolex rule the roost here. Designer shades are often worn for all occasions, including often indoors, which is understandable given the exorbitant price tag. Shoes are usually short platform leather sandals- something marketed en masse to Emiratis from Italy. The designer watch market is by no means suffering in these parts either, as the watch is an obvious way to display wealth and individuality. The designer man purse craze has yet to arrive on these shores, but when it does someone in Italy or New York will make a killing. Somehow I’m not holding my breath on this one.

Food resolves conflict

2009-07-11T01:25:00.000-07:00

In the UAE, the importance of food is obvious, especially during Ramadan, when almost everyone in the country fasts from sun-up to sun-down, and feasts with family and guests every night for a month. While the longest American holiday lasts about 3 days, Emiratis fast and feast for 30 days, and socialize and give gifts and food to friends and strangers.
Whenever someone in our office celebrates a special occasion such as the birth of a child, a graduation, or a car purchase they bring a large display of chocolates and offer some to each person in the office. Now that it is date season, one colleague brought in a large dish of fresh dates from his trees to share.

The two most remarkable food events in the office involved Knafe and Mansaf, one a traditional Lebanese desert, the other a traditional Jordanian meal. First, I must explain that the men in our office are highly communicative and emotive. The men nose kiss, hold hands, and put their arms around each other. They take each other to doctor’s appointments and hospitals. They talk about their kids, wives, girlfriends, and share specifics of their salaries and performance reviews. During the performance review process, several staff asked me “How could you give so-and-so a 5 rating on inspections when you only gave me a 4.5?”

I attribute the emotive culture to the reason that a professional meeting turned into an airing of grievances during which 3 individuals accused the others of not considering them professionals, etc. I did not attend but I did hear loud voices coming from the room and the meeting dragged on for 2 and a half hours, leaving several people escalated and upset.

The meeting was re-scheduled for the following week. A few hours before the meeting, rumors started flying about a knafe coming. Everyone gathered in the conference room to wait for it, joking and talking. The legendary dish finally arrived, a large flat pan full of warm, mild cheese under a sweet breaded topping. People handed each other generous offerings and moved quickly to serve people before someone else did. After enjoying the delicious desert, everyone settled down to the meeting. One colleague explained to me later, “They brought the knafe to say everything is ok and we forgive each other for what was said last week.” Google knafe and you can see some pictures for the dish.

Next time I’ll tell you about Mansaf.

Emirati Wedding: Bling on Parade

2009-06-26T05:28:00.001-07:00

Gowns: Imagine Cinderella’s ball in vivid, dark colors. Half the dresses sported trains; most were bling-encrusted and sparkly. One guest wore a white dress of satin and tulle- perhaps a desperate attempt to upstage the bride. Even the little girls wore over-the-top dresses and hairstyles. Five women had waist-length hair; two with hair to the knees. The Emirati next to me confirmed that most have their hair, makeup, and henna done at salons. There was an abundance of fake eyelashes and some pretty spectacular henna designs on hands and feet.

Setting: Fancy hotel ballroom with massive chandeliers. An elevated runway, where women danced and the bride entered, led to a stage with an elegant white sofa and silver pillows. Beautiful flower displays graced the 40 round tables. Lights dimmed and swirled like a major theatre production.

Food and Beverage: An abundant spread of hummus, tabouli, vine leaves, eggplant salad, flat bread, and other appetizers was artfully spread across the table. Women servers (no men allowed) circled to offer fried dough balls dripping with honey, delicious chocolates from ornate displays, Arabic coffee, hibiscus and rosewater iced tea, and soft drinks. As soon as the bride sat on her throne, the full feast appeared: a massive platter of rice and goat; dishes of curried chicken, okra stew, and fish in a red sauce; a plate of mixed grilled chicken, steak, and lamb kabob; and salads. Suddenly, the chocolate mousse, umm ali (bread pudding), flan, fruit salad, and local pastries appeared. Servers roamed again with tea and coffee in delicate, intricately-decorated cups and tiny cakes.

Music: Loud Arabic music punctuated by ululations and greetings. (I want to learn how to ululate but only saw one woman in action.) Woman sauntered up the runway to dance barefoot. Some tied scarves around their hips to accentuate belly-dance-like grooves; others shimmied shoulders and delicately waved hands. One woman got up to do the traditional hair-waving dance. Follow these simple steps: swing hair to one side, bounce, swing to other side, bounce again. End number by swirling head side to side letting hair swoop down, up and over, and back down. My friend Clare asked, “Who says these women are oppressed?”

Bride: All eyes turned to the door to see her enter in a shimmering white wedding gown with full hoop and ten-foot train. The sleeveless dress accentuated the henna designs that reached from her hands to her shoulders. She gracefully moved about an inch per minute as if in slow motion. Her sisters and other women in the audience reached down to fluff and straighten her train as she took one step; turn and posed on one side; stepped, turned and paused again. It took four women to hoist her dress up the steps to the runway. She looked as magical as a fairy-tale and completely different than the chemical engineer with no makeup and full black abeyya and shayla I’d seen at the office. Eventually, she arrived at the stage; waited for attendants to adjust her dress so she could sit; and small groups of women approached to congratulate her before dancing before her on the stage.

Noticeably absent: Alcohol, cameras, and men. The only camera that appeared all evening was the official one for the bride. Emirati women generally do not approve of photos of themselves. My friends explain that a photo of oneself that appears on the internet, TV, or elsewhere can decrease marriage options. Many women cover their faces completely with a black shayla when a camera appears in a room. However, brides often have one official camera to document the day, but only show the photos to other women and male family members. I wish I could have taken my usual thousand photos.

After dancing and feasting for a few hours, a sudden hush descended as women began covering themselves with their black abeyyas. Once all covered except the bride, the bride’s brother, father, and father-in-law entered from the men’s wedding party, followed by the groom dressed in a traditional white robe covered with a long black and gold robe. The little brother twirled a wooden gun and threw it in the air like a baton. The brother and fathers left and the groom took a seat next to the bride. Later, the groom cut the wedding cake with a sword.

I was mesmerized for over four hours watching these beautiful creatures celebrate, bond, and search for brides for their brothers. One son’s mother saw her desired daughter-in-law at a wedding and it took her two years to find out who the woman was. Families are quite secretive about the number and ages of their daughters. The bride’s name is usually not printed on the wedding invitation. My only regret the whole evening was missing the henna party two nights before. The girls sitting next to me said it was as equally elaborate, only the bride wore a traditional Arab dress and showed off her gold dowry.

Jason's Weekly Slice: Why I Heart Oman

2009-06-20T06:56:00.000-07:00

I'm coming to terms with my mild obsession with our neighbor to the east of the UAE, the Sultanate of Oman. In fact, like most obsessions, I’m quite enjoying it. My love affair with this classically Arabian country is as much about what it isn’t as what it is. While there is cultural heritage, natural beauty, and no shortage of friendly Emiratis in Abu Dhabi and throughout the UAE, perhaps it’s easier to

overlook than in Oman. As opposed to a race to the biggest, tallest, and 7 star-est of everything, Oman is known for the natural beauty of its people and land: spectacular and nearly deserted beaches of white sand and turquoise waters; hilltop villages of stone and adobe surrounded by date palm oases; some of the most authentic Arabian souqs (traditional covered markets) on the peninsula;

wadis (ephemeral river valleys or washes) providing a dramatic lush contrast to the surrounding dry, rugged moonscape; Omanis in traditional clothing opening their homes to complete strangers for coffee; and, not to be overlooked, herds of wild, and voraciously hungry goats.

I remember my first trip to Oman. This was after maybe a month in Abu Dhabi-- the hottest month of my life to date-- spent in close proximity to the Beach Rotana Hotel’s temperature-controlled pool. I set out on a road trip first with a couple new friends. The anticipation of exploring a new country was accentuated by my new, and surreally confined subsistence existence in Abu Dhabi.

First we drove up to the Musandam peninsula, which sticks out into the eastern Persian Gulf like a dagger, coming only a short boat-ride from Iran. The land here is like Norway’s fjords after millennium of global warming. I saw little villages, palm oases, pristine beaches, dolphins, and rocky cliffs descending into turquoise waters. And wild goats.

From Musandam, one has to leave Oman, travel back into the UAE, and re-enter Oman to reach the road to Oman’s capital, Muscat. The roads in this recently modernized country are excellent. Only the occasional lost camel (or goat) crossing the road will act as a reminder that this is still a (well) developing country. A few hours later I arrived in Muscat, in many ways the most livable Arabian Peninsula city. My favorite part is known as Muttrah- famous for its historic architecture, covered souq, and wonderfully active and atmospheric fish market. The old town nestled between a half-moon bay and rocky peaks, many of which are crowned by an old Portuguese fort- a reminder that, unlike most of the Gulf countries, Oman was colonized for a time. It also had colonies- including Zanzibar, in Africa. The souq smells of frankincense and myrrh.

One of the highlights in visiting Oman for me is the wadis. These mostly dry washes, some reminiscent of slot canyons in the desert southwest of the USA, are found throughout the country. Wadi Damm ends in crystal clear pools of fresh water (a rarity in these parts), and a luminescent blue pool in a cave, perhaps one of the more atmospheric spots I’ve ever seen. Wadi Tiwi, on the eastern coast where the Gulf of Oman turns into the Indian Ocean, is Oman at its finest. Date palm oases, children in bright-colored traditional clothing running up just to say hi- and occasionally ask for a buck or two, little hilltop villages, traditional narrow canals for irrigation purposes known as felajes. All nestled in a narrow, rocky canyon.

Oman is where I fell in love with Arab culture. Every time I return (four times this last year) I realize why I feel such a strong connection with the people and land. It feels real to me. Simple. The people seem aware of their connection and reliance on the land. Omanis seems to have (so far) found a balance between embracing modern conveniences while not sacrificing their traditions, or souls.

Jason's Weekly Slice: Life in and Around Abu Dhabi

2009-06-12T06:19:00.000-07:00

A Day on the Road in Syria

Camille and I spent a day in Palmyra, Syria a few weeks back. Ancient desert ruins- a spectral sight, surrounded by sand and errant camels, and nouveau Bedouins on old motorcycles selling trinkets. As the new town is only a few ramshackle streets, it is virtually impossible to completely ditch a local trying to sell you something. This leads us to Mahmood, a charismatic, and shamelessly persistent cab driver who tracked us down multiple times to “offer” us a ride to our next stop: the crusader castle, Crak des Chevalier. After attempting to lose him- or get a better fair- through playing hard to get, or whatever one does when being stocked by a cabbie- we finally caved in. In no time, our bags were pack

ed, we had checked out of the rather bohemian one-star Ishtar Hotel (hopefully not named after the circa 1980 bomber film starring a much younger Dustin Hoffman), and we were off on another blind adventure in Syria.

I can’t think of the last time I spent the entire day with a cab driver- probably because there wasn’t one. Mahmood told us all about his wife and kids, his taste in women (an unsettling combination) and his political views. He seemed to leave out the fact that he was rather directionally-challenged and with a penchant for total denial.

We drove west through the sandy desertscape of eastern Syria, as the landscape gradually came alive with rows of cypress and olive trees, brilliant fields of yellow wildflowers speckled with red poppies; fertile patchwork fields with a view of the distant snow-covered peaks bordering Lebanon. An old cement smokestack or other industrial artifacts the occasional reminder that this was still Syria.

An hour later we arrived at Crak des Chevalier, perched atop verdant green hills. Much like San Diego, or other Mediterranean climates, this grass will be golden yellow in a few months. Mahmood told us he would wait an hour or so for us, take us to our next destination, and we would call it a day. We explored the castle, in all its textures of time- ranging from the 10^th century to the late medieval era. We met a Swiss biker outside who had just arrived, after motoring through the Caucasus and Iran en route from the motherland. We felt small and unadventurous- a feeling only exacerbated as the geriatric tour buses rolled up behind us.

This is when our linear plan became more circular. We decided to visit the beach, to make a loop, and end up in Apamea. We found our way to derelict Tartus, an industrial, litter-strewn port on the Mediterreanean. Seduced by the cobalt blue waters, careful to stick to walk between rubbish piles. No tour buses to be seen here. Mahmood smoked apple-flavored shi-sha under a colorful umbrella, looking on into the azure. This is as good as the job gets- certainly not saying much.

An hour later we found ourselves again in the green hills of central Syria, hairpin turns en route- we thought- to Apamea, another ancient Roman settlement. Numerous hilltop towns and hairpins later, Mahmood casually points out Crak des Chevalier on our right. It was then that our faith in our friend’s orientation prowess crumbled to powder. Perhaps out of spite for having been on the receiving end of Mahmood’s testosterone-driven denial, I insisted that he take us to Apamea, and that we arrive before sunset. He gave me a look somewhere between bewilderment and mild disgust, and we were off. Still silently lost. And full-steam ahead.

An hour later we were still speeding, the liquid orange sun creeping dangerously close to the horizon. In the last town we came to Mahmood did not bother slowing down at all. Mothers and children, and the occasional goat cleared a path for this runaway taxi, slowing for no one- despite anguished words of caution from the back seat. This man was going to get us to Apamea before sunset- dead or alive.

Minutes later, we arrived, noticeably shaken, but alive-- and euphoric with relief. Think Ebeneezer Scrooge the morning after. This spot was stunningly worth the risk. The golden hour was upon us, bathing in tangerine light a two-kilometer-long Roman colonnade. A redheaded shepherd boy grazed his sheep nearby. I ran through the fields of waist-high thistle to watch the sun set on one of the most dizzying days of our trip. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, setting the valley awash in diffused gold, before sinking out of sight.

Jason's Week in review:

2009-06-12T06:01:00.000-07:00

1. Watched Pixar’s latest, “Up” at Marina Mall in Abu Dhabi. Delightful film, I thought. Even shed a tear. A typical movie-going experience in the Emirates: the food line was packed with overweight robed Emiratis who walked away with two bags of food in each hand for a 2-hr movie. Emergency preparedness? The “less is more” movement has yet to hit the UAE. Then there’s the stream of locals waltzing through the theater, talking loudly into their mobiles a few minutes after the movie starts and before it ends. Why, one might ask? The universal answer in these parts: Because they can. Just go with it. More fun that way.

2. Spontaneous pool party at Camille’s work ‘villa,’ replete with Lebanese take-out. Fun for me, maybe awkward at times for Camille, with a steady stream of unexpected coworker guests.

3. Aerobics class at Abu Dhabi Health and Fitness Club- now called Abu Dhabi Country Club (yawn). Body Pump, led by the ever eccentric Kiwi, Leonard. Good times. Sore legs.

4. I “therapeutically rejected” (sorta) a client this week who really did not need to be in therapy. Feels good to be the bearer of good news for a change: “You really don’t need to be here.” A revelation.

5. Scuba diving in the Gulf (Persian or Arabian, depending on which shore one lives). My first discovery dive. Coral. Fish. Blue water. Escape from the 110 degrees of humid heat above water.

6. Seminary Graduation ceremony with the youth and their parents today. I’m free!

7. German Film at the Goethe Institute and Pakistani diner food afterward with a Jewish friend from Rhode Island- one of those ‘where on earth am I ?’ moments.

Jason’s Weekly Slice: Life in and Around Abu Dhabi

2009-06-07T22:06:00.000-07:00

This week, I:

Got my shoes resoled in one of the mostly Indian hoods of Abu Dhabi*

Swam in the warm, turquoise waters of the Gulf (Arabian, or Persian, depending on which side of this body of water you happen to live) in a thick fog

Saw a sting ray while swimming on the Corniche

Was approached on the beach by an older Yemeni man who preached about Islam- a rather aggressive, less-effective approach I might add

Took a boat out to Lulu (Pearl in Arabic) Island, across the water from Abu Dhabi’s downtown skyline. Watched the red sun meet the horizon while bobbing up and down in bathtub warm Gulf waters with a group of friends from all over

Had an interesting conversation with the first Jew I have met since arriving in Abu Dhabi- so far, so good, “ he says in terms of his reception here. He works for New York University, which is building a new campus on Saadiyat Island (which will also house the Louvre, among other museums)

Visited Gulf Diagnostic Hospital and saw a sea of black robed women, mostly veiled, sitting, waiting, and waiting some more; a few Western ex-pats thrown into the mix, waiting with disdainful scowls on their faces; Filipino nurses scurrying about in pale blue frocks; fluorescent lighting, marble floors.

Oh, and I worked, too. A few hours. My clients included, among others, an Emirati man with social phobia, my first Emirati woman client who is depressed and going through a bit of a mid-life crisis, a bereaved Irish housewife, and an Egyptian woman dealing with interpersonal issues. A motley crew, indeed. Seldom a boring moment at the American Center of Neurology and Psychiatry.

*In downtown Abu Dhabi there is a neighborhood a we refer to as Little Kerala. The mostly stucco-facaded buildings are in various stages of disintegration. The neighborhood stands out a bit in a city where 1976 is considered Medieval and glass towers are springing up everywhere to replace the ‘historic’ relics. So, I walk down a rather narrow street in Little Kerala, looking for a cobbler who will take on these rather severely-worn tan leather shoes.

I pass shops selling bric-a-brac, useless plastic items of anything imaginable or otherwise, ‘gold’ Timex watches, and plenty of texile shops selling colorful material for Saris (as in, India’s traditional female attire). As I’m not in the market for a gold watch or a sari, for that matter, I proceed further into the south asian hood, now surrounded by cab drivers, mostly Pakistanis, looking for business. I give them the universal finger wag indicating (hopefully) disinterest in their services. I peer into a number of holes-in-the-wall, looking for someone who may know a cobbler to recommend: a tiny “cafeteria” on my left, filled with hungry Pakistani men in traditional, flowing pastel robes, feasting on daal lentil soup, chicken shwarma; a couple busy barbershops, all men. Then I find a shoe store, whose owner points to a few buildings ahead, saying “the Pakistani man” works there, and can fix my shoes. This is progress.

I proceed down the street as directed, and after asking at a couple more shops, I find what has to be one of the world’s smallest businesses. There is a smiling Pakistani man in the corner, sitting cross-legged in his traditional robe. Saleh, as he calls himself, bids me enter his shop. The room is essentially a two-man tent with a vaulted ceiling.- minus the tent, of course. Fortunately, I’m the only customer now, with plenty of room to take off my shoes and show him the damage. He nods, smiles, asks me to take a seat, and that the shoes will be ready in a few minutes. I sit and wait, scoping out the scene. A couple other Pakistani men came in to visit Saleh, sat next to me, reaching into their pockets to pull out a green wad of chewing tobacco, which one man placed between his gums and cheek. Salah spits into a shoebox in the corner. Ten minutes and $5 later my shoes are good as new and I bid adieu to my new Pashtun-speaking friend, Saleh. Another day of errands in Abu Dhabi.

Jason’s Weekly Slice: Life in and around Abu Dhabi

2009-05-29T07:55:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning at the rather abrupt end to my dream cycle. I opened the curtains and noticed something from the distant past: a pale orange light just beginning to appear in the east, just beyond the small mosque, still lit up in garish florescent green- a color symbolic in Islam for paradise. I haven’t been up for the first light of the day in what has seemed months. I took advantage of this ephemeral window of opportunity, putting on my running clothes in the pale morning light. I ran through our mostly Emirati neighborhood to Corniche al Qurm, a highly manicured running path with Al Salaam St on one side, and a forest of black mangroves and a saltwater tidal lagoon on the other. Only a few others were up with me, white robes swishing past me as I ran in the opposite direction. From what I have noted, Arabs tend to stay out late with the whole family, coming out with the moon, not the blazing hot Arabian sun.

Sometimes it takes getting up a bit earlier than I’m used to reconnect; to realize that I am in my prime in the morning hours. Wide-eyed. Clear-headed. Or as close as I’ll likely get. One of my minor epiphanies on this morning mangrove run was that I am not using my extra time allotted me as a childless, part-time therapist living abroad to its fullest. I will be resuscitating a weekly blog, which has been in a coma for months now. The concept in short is to attempt to capture moments in life overseas. Literary snapshots. I have had numerous experiences traveling recently in Syria and Lebanon, Oman, and here in the UAE which reminded me how much I used to enjoy writing. There. It’s done. I’ve written it in cyberspace. Now I’m accountable to at least a couple family members or friends who may read this.

I will plan on updating this blog every Friday, the holy day of rest for Muslims, and therefore a day in which I am even more likely to encounter some free time. I hope you enjoy. If not, I will.

Abu Dhabi cuisine: contrasts and contradictions (by Jason)

2009-02-09T09:19:00.000-08:00

Wrapping one's head around the essence of cuisine in Abu Dhabi is about as difficult as finding parking downtown during an evening in Ramadan (nearly impossible). It appears to be a mix of the best and worst of the developing world, the American suburban world, and the hotel world of Vegas-like mediocrity. To make the task of attempting to explain the food situation in this enigmatic city-like town of contrasts, a couple lists might simplify the process.

Food Highlights

-Fresh juices at most corner stores and malls (there are at least 5 in Abu Dhabi): guava, strawberry, avocado (more like a shake), mango, lemon-mint are favorites
-Cheap Indian and Pakistani food (easy to differentiate)
-Arab bakeries (mostly Lebanese, Khaleeji (Gulf states/ Arabian), and Moroccan influences) all over town where one can find just about anything involving filo dough and heaps of honey (baklava, etc.), meat and spinach "pies", sweets flavored with rose and orange blossom water;
-Fresh and diverse produce- found in corner stores and mammoth institutions like Carrefour (France's Wallmart) and Spinney's (the South African-based chain for people who want to pretend they don't live in the Middle East)
-Fresh fish- hammour is the local white fish specialty
-Lebanese food everywhere- some of the best local restaurants, serving up piles of arugula leaves, hummos and warm from the oven (sometimes) pita bread, grilled meats, fetush salad (greens, tomatoes, vinagrette topped with pieces of baked pita), shwarma sandwiches, and fruit cocktail (layers of fresh nectars: avocado, strawberry, mango) topped with a dollop of ice cream, honey and pistachios)

Food Lowlights

-Not-so-fresh fish (eating cheap seafood here can be like playing Russian roulette with the GI track)
-A little TOO cheap Indian food (see above)
-Overpriced and forgettable (with exceptions) hotel food- 20% hotel tax added on to bill can add insult to injury
-Artery-clogging American exports are alive and well here: Popeye's, DQ, Chilils, Krispy Kreme. They are like an expectorant- strangely comforting to know they are they if you ever need to use them- and I have.

Next week I'll be checking out "Abu Dhabi gourmet"- a foodie's paradise, replete with top International chefs doing there thing (i.e. masters class and taste tests) for free. Did someone say free food?

Characters

2009-01-19T10:07:00.000-08:00

Captain Nassim

Moves of our felucca captain:
-lounging by the rudder, smoking as we weaved back and forth along the Nile
-climbing the 30 foot high mast like a coconut tree to gather the sail
-stopping at his Nubian village (displaced up the Nile when the Aswan Dam was built) to get some chrysanthemum tea
-chopping tomatoes and boiling water for tea on a small gas stove on the floor of the boat
-waiting while we leaped on shore to look at colorfully decorated Nubian homes

Being on the boat was like being suspended in time. It was a feeling more than an event. We lounged on cushions and watched the green shore and water go by. Farmers worked in fields with hands and basic tools like others before them have for thousands of years. Ancient ruins stood sentinel over the river at strategic bends. On the stretch of the river we floated no modern buildings could be seen and peace was only disrupted occasionally by a call to prayer from shore or a ship passing. The nights were dark and quiet, showing off the countless stars. We could see plants and fish through the clear water.

Bedouin Oud Player

Little did we know that our driver, who skillfully rattled the beat up hunk of junk land cruiser through the desert of Wadi Ram Jordan, could also sing traditional songs and play the oud (a traditional instrument with no frets and 11 strings). After banging around the natural sites, stone bridges, red sand dunes, and dramatic sandstone cliffs where Alexander hung out, we stopped to spend the night at a Bedouin camp. The landscape was so much like Southern Utah it was uncanny, and the Bedouins reminded me a lot of the Navajo. The Bedouin live close to their ancestral lands where their ancestors were nomadic for thousands of years. Now they live in small, dilapidated, rural outposts. While Navajo have a rich heritage, horses and problems with drinking alcohol, Bedouins have an intriguing history, camels, and problems with drinking too much hot, super sweet tea, and smoking 5 packs of cigarettes a day (since they’re Muslim, they aren’t supposed to drink alcohol). Our driver/oud player serenaded us late into the night as we escaped the cold by circling the fire. After a few songs, I asked him “What are you singing about?” After a 5 minute discussion in Arabic with his fellow Bedouins, he replied, “I sing about a friend.”

Impromptu Egyptian Guide

As we stared at the Temple of Karnak, an older man humbly approached us. “I am Michel, an Egyptologist and Egyptian guide of 40 years, would you like a one hour tour of the temple?” After an extremely informative 2 hour tour about ancient pharaohs and the mysteries of life after death, we sat with Michel to drink a Coke. “Work is Holy,” he said. “My work has been able to sustain me and my family for my lifetime.”

Vignettes of Cairo (Jason)

2008-12-23T19:52:00.000-08:00

We stayed in a rustic budget hotel (as we habitually tend to do)-- Pensione Roma. While it may not have lived up to its romantic name, it was certainly a timepiece, and in the aorta of Cairo's throbbing heart. One problem with staying oriented in downtown Cairo is that otherwise perfectly good reference points don't work. Shops with hundreds of freaky mannequins, falafel shops, old men pushing mysterious carts- there seems to be one on every corner. In one instance I got a bit disoriented (unheard of, I assure you) trying to find our hotel as it was located between two identical military vehicles with Egyptian men in machine guns smoking in the open back- a perfect mirror image. Brilliant. We were downtown on a holiday weekend night, and the street was throbbing with entire families of all generations sharing the road- and these aren't pedestrian roads. There seems to be an art or science of survival in Cairo- drivers and pedestrians share the roads and somehow avoid death in all the chaos.

Other scenes of Cairo:

-Sailing north, down the Nile, in a felucca (a traditional sailboat with a tall, flexible mast); waking up to the usual cacophony of prayers emanating from hidden mosques- there is no escape!

-A boy on his rickety bicycle cruising full-speed down a busy street on a with an oversized basket of flatbread on his head, dropping a piece and risking his life to rescue it in traffic (perhaps a window into urban Egyptian poverty)

-Six-year old entrepreneurs (sometimes just con artists) on camels they supposedly named Mickey Mouse and Rambo (the names change of course depending on the tourist) on the Giza Plateau at the Pyramids, asking in unison "Hey mister! Camel ride! I make you a deal! No hassle!"- that promise didn't last long

-Entire families and their groceries on mules or upgrading to the mule-drawn carts

-Ending up on a spontaneous unsolicited "tour" in which a man will approaches, asks with charisma what is one's country of origin, then proceeds to provide questionable and very basic information on something of supposed historical significance; the forced tour terminates abruptly as a tip ("baksheesh!") is demanded of the tourist; after presenting a few Egyptian pounds, they are often thrown back at the tourist with disdain, occasionally followed by the pronouncement of a curse upon the tourist and family vis a vis Allah (That last part only happened once and the pronounced curse hasn't come to pass. yet.)

-The fruity smell of flavored tobacco water pipes (shi sha, among other names) permeating the crowded streets and mixing with the smells of standing water, livestock, sweat, and produce

-Open air markets (Khan Kalili being the most famous, extensive, and congested) selling anything from natural sponges (it's a plant apparently), to cow hearts

-A lone cow tied up to a pillar on a street corner in downtown Cairo waiting to be slaughtered to mark the end of the Haj, the culmination of Muslim holiday Eid al Adha

-Climbing to the top of the minaret of a medieval mosque, dusting off the creaking ladder on the way up and tipping the man with the key on the way down (this was not recommended by Lonely Planet)

-Strolling through the verdant Al Azar park, a former mammoth garbage dump in a particularly gritty part of town turned lush and exclusive paid park (still bordering the gritty part of town); the contrasts in Cairo are at times stark

-Camels and their owners having spitting contests

-Looking out over the rooftops of Cairo across a sea of dust-covered rubble in all directions- perhaps acting as a weight to keep the roofs from blowing away

OK, so this didn't read like a travel agent's promotional on Cairo, but these are just a few scenes which have lingered in my memory. I have a feeling they will be there for a while. Having said all this, Cairo is a lovable city- grit and spit and all- one must simply embrace it (sometimes from a distance).

Egypt, Take 2 (by Camille)

2008-12-20T08:44:00.000-08:00

Our early December vacation corresponded with 2-3 million Muslims flying from all over the world to Mecca, Saudi Arabia for their once in a lifetime pilgrimage, the hajj. We saw a special hajj waiting area in the Abu Dhabi airport and large groups of old men in two pieces of white cloth or towels (the prescribed clothing for the event) standing, kneeling, and putting their heads to the ground to pray.

Newspaper articles followed the pilgrims’ progress as we moved through Egypt and Jordan. On our way back to UAE, we stumbled upon a group of at least 60 little old women wearing black robes and fluorescent green head scarves printed with “Hajj Express, Kerala India,” a mobile phone number and an email address. I imagine if an old Indian lady was lost, wandering the streets wearing the bright scarf, someone could easily get her back to Kerala. It was inspiring to see so many people making a religious journey in this day and age and to consider that this may be the last chance an old Indian woman has to get to Mecca.

Since I had visited Cairo, Luxor, and Aswan 10 years ago, I wondered if I would notice any changes. In many ways, Egypt is timeless; the pyramids, King Tut treasures, and Valley of the King tombs were as I remembered them. Not surprising since they have been around for 1,500 to 3,000 years. Subsistence farming with primitive tools and animals along the Nile did not appear different. The street food—falafel, foul, eggplant, fresh squeezed juice and koshari (strangely delicious mix of lentils, chick peas, macaroni, rice, crispy onions, and tomato sauce) —was as tasty and dirt cheap as ever. The quest for “baksheesh” from hoards of tourist touts hassling us for money seemed more annoying than ever. We felt blessed to get out of the country with only one man saying “no salam” (no peace—a play on the phrase for goodbye—ma salama) and another uninvited guide cursing me with sickness in the name of Allah (after which I accidentally said “I hate Egyptians and I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave me alone” both of which were lies but that’s what the curse drove me to).

I noticed for the first time the fairly conservative attire of Muslim women: very colorful head scarves, long sleeve shirts, and long pants or skirts. Perhaps I’m more attuned to that now that I live in a Muslim country. I noted the poverty, the sheer positive energy of crowds shopping for new clothes to celebrate Eid al Adha, the mummies that weren’t on display before, the carvings of the God of the Nile, and the fertility carvings. Our trip was full of sand, mud, geology, ancient pyramids, roman ruins, Nabateun tombs, and Christian sites. Stay tuned to hear about the characters we won’t forget: the Nubian captain, the female Pharaoh, two Egyptian guides (one invited and one uninvited), and a Bedouin oud player.

Villa Chic (by Camille)

2008-10-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

Statistics on the villa/hood we live in:

Front gates: 2
Rooms: 8
Closets: 0
Bathrooms: 5
Appliances (stove, fridge) that came with it: 0
Flights of marble stairs: 2
Dome: 1
Kitchy mirrors that light up: 3
Maid’s rooms (that a twin bed can’t even fit in): 1
Purple toilets: 1
Roosters living on the street: at least 10
Mosques within a 2 minute walking distance: 2
First call to prayer of the day: 4.30 am
Tiny Indian grocery stores on the block that deliver: 8
Laundries: 3
Lebanese bakery: 1
Petting zoo: 1
Minutes to run to the mangrove walking trail: 5
Number of black bunnies seen on way to mangroves: 2

Girls Night Out

2008-09-19T11:40:00.001-07:00

“In case u don’t know me im very tall, dark black face, but beutiful, very fat with 2golden teth in front.” This was the text I received as I was about to meet my Emirati coworker’s wife who wanted to show me “women’s things in Abu Dhabi.” When I entered the lobby, a petit, thin Arab women in traditional black dress and headscarf approached me. I could tell from the start this woman had a quick sense of humor.

We walked to her plum-colored Mercedes and she gave me a gift: a compact mirror with a shiny pink and pearl inlay pattern. We commenced our journey doing a drive-by of the Iranian market at Meena port, where one can buy large potted plants and giant shiny buckets; past the Corniche, where hundreds walk by the sea every evening; past the newly opened public beach, some of the Sheikh’s palaces, and to the massive new Abu Dhabi landmark, the white marble Sheikh Zayed “Grand” mosque.

Four times during the tour we stopped for about 20 minutes. We entered the Ladies’ Club, a large fitness center, pool, grounds, and kids’ area where a world of uncovered women socialized, exercised, and enjoyed time with their children. At one point she had to drop by her house and ushered me into a living room with eight couches and shut the door. After 2 minutes of silence the door burst open and 8 kids entered the room. They introduced themselves as cousins, daughters and sons. The next stop was a Japanese dollar store on top of the gold souk (an entire mall dedicated to jewelry) where I could purchase any type of home item from a spatula to potting soil. Then we swung by Marina Mall where we browsed in a hardware/furniture store and a perfume store. I made the mistake of complimenting a perfume she was spraying and later that night was the recipient of a $100 bottle of Chanel Chance.

After about 4 hours of touring it was 9.30 pm and I was planning to wind down and go back to sleep. She said “I want to take you to dinner.” So we went to her favorite Lebanese restaurant and ordered a feast: pineapple juice, lemon juice with mint, tomato/cucumber salad, grilled chicken, hummus, and flat bread stuffed with meat. After we ate about 1/8th of the meal we were both stuffed. She said “please take this home to your husband” and then proceeded to order another grilled chicken, tabouli, and falafel to go with the immense amount of food.

Topics of conversation included:
How she and her husband finally got custody of his Russian daughter from his first marriage
Nanny’s with too much power in families
Horrifying treatment of servants by some people
Benefits of marrying another Emirati (she married her cousin)
How she got 5 months paid vacation to care for her sick sister in London
The fact that mother’s receive $200 per month for each child they have
Her friend’s husband who took the Filipino nanny as a second wife
Her sister-in-law who allowed a second wife to come on board since he agreed to never discuss the second wife, to buy her a separate house on the other side of town, and to never bring wife #2 to any family gatherings

This evening with my new sister (she said we must have the same DNA because we both like movies and perfume) reiterated some beautiful aspects of Emirati culture: the feeling of generosity and abundance, unity of women, laughter, and kindness.

Ramadan in Abu Dhabi

2008-09-19T11:40:00.000-07:00

Having spent the bulk of my 31 years in Seattle and Utah, the vicarious experience of the Muslim Holy Month of Ramadan has naturally eluded me. Now, with a couple months in the United Arab Emirates under the proverbial belt, I have a have a small window into this dynamic time of spirituality, service, hunger pangs, and subsequent feasts. Many of the people I have spoken with regarding their thoughts on Ramadan have been (who else?) mostly Pakistani cab drivers. (The vast majority of cabbies in A.D. hail from the delightful little town of Peshawar Pakistan--claim to fame: birthplace of Al Queda- among others, I am sure.) These men, usually clad in traditional robes of every pastel color imaginable, have shared some of their thoughts on Ramadan. The majority said that people in the UAE seem to be a bit kinder and a bit less edgy during Ramadan, including Emirati nationals. This is remarkable considering most are fasting from sunrise to sunset- roughly 5:30 AM to 6:30 PM.

Most people expressed a feeling of increased spirituality in being able to turn their thoughts to serving the poor, and being more united with them (at least united in hunger). The local government has set up large white tents throughout the city in which the “less fortunate,” mostly Pakistanis, Afghanis, Bangladeshis and Indians from what I can see, queue for free food every evening during Ramadan. Sometimes I will peer out of our 16th floor apartment where we are staying temporarily and listen to the magical sound of the call to prayer (which occurs 5 times a day) blasting out of the large minaret of the neighboring mosque and echoing off the buildings of downtown. I look down to the street to see a sea of pastel robes gathering around a large white tent bearing the words Ramadan Kareem (a seasonal greeting). The meal that breaks the fast during the Holy Month is known as iftar (not to be confused with Ishtar, the worst movie ever made, starring a much younger Dustin Hoffman). At least for Emirati nationals, iftar is often shared with family and friends, gorging on hordes of traditional Arabic foods, never short on the ultimate Ramadan staple: the date.

Around sunset the streets are almost empty as people head home to eat with their families. This is for the best, as most of the accidents will happen in the late afternoons as people become delirious or enraged after a day of fasting. Then, soon afterward, the streets begin to throb with energy as people head out on the town, filling shi-sha (flavored tobacco) bars, restaurants, and malls, usually busy until the morning hours. The malls, which are ironically and perhaps unfortunately the main places during the hot sultry summer months to view the masses of humanity in action in this town, are packed with Emirati men and teenagers in the traditional kandora (white robe with white or red/white checkered headdress), women covered from head to foot in the traditional sheyla ( black headscarf- sometimes covering even the face) and abeyya (black floor-length robe), kids running wild in unsupervised packs. Last night we got out of a movie at 1:00 AM and the buzz was still at full-throttle, showing no signs of abating. I suppose there is a reason Ramadan lasts for only a month, terminating in Eid al Fitr at the end of September this year. Eid is when people often leave town and recover from the nocturnal lifestyle of Ramadan.

Island of Happiness

2008-08-07T10:43:00.000-07:00

You may have heard of some of the UAE’s grand schemes (which are realized by the way) including: an indoor ski slope with real snow, the tallest building in the world (soon to be completed), islands that form the shape of a palm tree and the continents, and the world’s largest mosque (containing the world’s largest carpet).

One of the amazing future plans for Abu Dhabi is the Island of Happiness (Saadiyat Island) Cultural District, which will be home to the Louvre Abu Dhabi, the Guggenheim Abu Dhabi, a maritime museum, a cultural museum, and a performance center. Previously, the island was a small plane of sand, where turtles nested and a few residents lived. It will now be transformed into an architectural wonder.

Images show the Louvre Abu Dhabi will look like a hovering, glowing, white UFO disk casting dappled light into the space below. The performance center looks like a robotic alien snake head with sleek lines. 3D dioramas of the Guggenheim Abu Dhabi show a haphazard pile of giant blocks and colored plastic cones, more akin to an imaginative child’s creation than something an engineer could actually build.

The artistic director of Guggenheim Abu Dhabi, Thomas Krens, described it as “the kind of thing we’ve never seen before. The only expression I can think of to describe it is pharonic.” It is to be “A museum for global contemporary art…the same emphasis for China, Central Asia, India, Africa, Russia, Eastern Europe, and America.” Krens is looking for something even larger than the Guggenheim Bilbao, which he wanted to be like the Chartres Cathedral, like nothing a villager had ever seen before, “technology, cosmology, science and religion, all thrown together. Breathtaking.” See interview

Of all the rumors of dramatic developments which may come to pass in Abu Dhabi,a desert mountain transformed into a ski slope; a building taller than the mile high tower in Saudi Arabia; college campuses, state of the art hospitals, and zero emission cities; I am most enthralled by the artistic endeavors of the talented architects working on Saadiyat.

Recent news headlines

2008-08-07T10:41:00.000-07:00

Date beauty contest (dates are prominent fruits here and platters of dates are judged to see how beautiful they are)

Lifeguards blow whistle, shine spotlights on kissing/hugging on beach

Lamborghini flown 10,000 km for oil change

Saudi vice squad worker held for having 6 wives (instead of the 4 allowed)

20,000 Mohammeds gather in one place (one of them named Mohammed Mohammed Mohammed Mohammed Mohammed Mohammed)

We have been seeing more of Maya Nasri (a pop singer) lately, 9 kg more to be exact

High Income Developing Country

2008-07-30T04:37:00.000-07:00

Abu Dhabi appears to be a modern city with several sleek high rises, high quality roads, a new bus system, and expensive cars. While some buildings are dilapidated and crumbling, most apartments and villas are nice looking and clean. Malls are modern to the extreme. Living in Abu Dhabi made me wonder, why do they call UAE a high income developing country?

This week I traveled about a half an hour from Abu Dhabi to tour the Musaffah and ICAD Industrial Areas with two inspectors from the Abu Dhabi Environment Agency. It was another world. Musaffah is an old industrial are with several small automotive, painting, and other small-scale shops. ICAD I is a relatively new industrial area with asphalt manufacturing, cement mix facilities, and iron and steel makers. Right now, plans are afoot to expand the large ICAD areas from 1 to 5.

I have toured industrial sites in the U.S. before, and they are generally clean and organized, with workers wearing safety equipment. The shops in Musaffah are dirty, with oil contamination in the sand and dark smoke coming from smoke stacks. There is a large salt water lake where dump trucks come to illegally offload construction waste. One water way was completely red. My colleague said it looked like the Saudi Arabian industrial areas he worked in 30 years ago.

Perhaps the saddest sight was the worker accommodations. The workers lived right next to a massive city waste transfer station overfilling with stinking trash. Small, primitive cinderblock dwellings were divided into two. I have no idea how many people live in each dwelling. There was a pile of thin mattresses sitting out in the sun. Socks and underwear hung in some windows. Luckily there were window AC units on each trailer. How sad that they are stuck in the middle of industrial wasteland with no shops and no entertainment. I assume this is how agricultural workers live in the US. As we left a large tanker truck of drinking water was pulling in and one of the inspectors said “Here is the water for the animals—I mean the workers.” He shared my sentiments on the sad conditions. I had to have a moment of silence for the sad plight of the workers and the environment in Musaffah.

The ICAD areas are a bit more advanced; industries are larger and their facilities appeared to be cleaner. There is a massive new development for worker housing called ICAD Worker City that looked pretty impressive from a distance. It’s still amazing to think of the number of workers living out in the middle of the desert to work in dangerous factories. The inspectors confirmed that there are environmental problems at many of the facilities: air pollution, lack of worker safety equipment, soil contamination, no areas for waste, etc. There is a lot of work to do here.

Apartment Hunt Facts

2008-07-28T04:10:00.001-07:00

Prices for renting flats in Abu Dhabi have increased by 50% on average in the last 7 months. A furnished apartment that we found in January for $3,000 is now $5,000 unfurnished (that IS U.S. dollars). And we thought DC was expensive.

Questions from an apartment application:
Do you have any tame animal?
If your answer is yes please mention your animal.
Do you have any mechanical machines?
Do you like plants?

For apartment furnishings, we've been ask to choose between two styles of decor: Yoshi and Rana. Which would you choose?

The first time I flew to Dubai

2008-07-18T14:15:00.000-07:00

The first time I flew to Dubai, I was immediately whisked from the
airport to a fancy banquet and laser/fire light show; I had to change
into an evening dress in the back of an SUV on the way. It
was strange to arrive in Abu Dhabi this time with four massive bags
and realize this is my new home.

Until we find a flat, we are staying in the same hotel I had visited
on my last trip to here. There is an amazing view of the azure
sea. A new island has appeared in the view, close enough to swim to,
since I was last here a year and a half ago. One morning as we gazed
out the window at breakfast my colleague asked "Was that building
there when I went to bed last night?" The pace of development is
astounding. There are 120 large development projects under review
right now by the Environment Agency. Some of them are complex
industrial areas and many are large resorts. One project requires
that 20,000 animals be removed from an island so that large hotels can be built.

My favorite activity so far is people watching; women look exotic and
mysterious and men look quite regal. Local men wear long white robes,
sandals, sun glasses, and mobile phone microphones next to their
mouths. Individuality is displayed by the choice and knotting of the
headscarf: white and long, red and tied together in the back; white
and held in place by a black ring. Some teen males sport long white
robes and baseball caps; one teenage posse wore black plaid robes.
Women from the Gulf wear long black robes; some robes have bands of
sequins or sparkles along the borders. Some women show their face,
some only their eyes, and some completely cover their face in
translucent black material. A few women wear a metal mask that covers
the eyebrows, nose and mouth.

Reading the local paper is enlightening. Headlines include: Sloppy
Animals in the Road, British Woman Arrested for Lewd Acts (for making out on the beach); Robber uses Chili Paste to Stun Victim. I'll send more
entertaining headlines and highlights as I come across them.