Hot in the city...

"Why is the wind hot, Daddy?" The above quote is of course Bethy. The kids find it unfathomable that it's just plain hot all the time. (I didn't say inconceivable, are you proud? You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means). What I don't get is why people don't seem to get up early to take advantage of the mornings. I mean, c'mon, it's only 93 out there right now! (feels like 102, 51% humidity according to TWC). Let's go play outside, kids! I can blog later!

Watch you smile while you are sleeping, while you're far away...

A post about even more trivial stuff.

Life is in the details.

When the room guys came in today they asked "where is the small one, ma'am?"

Taking his nap, I told them.
So they tiptoed in to check on him.

A bit about the sand: when we first arrived we noticed a scent in the air, a light sawdusty aroma. I think it must be the smell of the sand. There is a thin layer of fine soft sandy dust everywhere.

In the mornings, if I walk out onto the balcony and it's humid enough I get a bit of mud. By mid-morning, though, it's turned back into the inoffensive sand-dust, if the room guys don't get it first.

There are workers everywhere working extremely hard to obliterate the dust, constantly sweeping and polishing with brooms and wet rags, with impressive results. Most likely thanks to their efforts I have yet to see even the smallest piece of litter.

The battle with the potty continues. I think we may have found the winning combination: if you press both buttons and hold them down forever that seems to do the job. Otherwise you just get a rush of water and, well, pulverised potty contents, whatever they may be. This is no good, especially with people coming to clean the potties for us! As Thomas would say, Ew, ewwww!

On our third visit to Costa Coffee, Michael, who waited on us the first time, greeted us at the door. "The usual, Ma'am?" I was startled. I didn't know that 3 visits, not in a row, constituted having a "usual". He carefully told me exactly what we'd ordered last time(which included a split blended drink for Thomas and Bethy ), I nodded, still slightly flustered at such service, and shepherded the kids to the cushy leather chairs. When I told Mike about it he wasn't the least bit surprised. Another case of that's how it is here.

Geez, one of my life goals back in the States was to be rich enough to be able to afford good service. Check! Life is good.

The "usual" for me, since we're dwelling on the mundane and trivial, is an espresso Frescatta. I have never had such a good coffee drink, and that's saying something. Blended and frothy, with lots of crunchy espresso bean bits. Heavenly!

Yesterday I braved a taxi to come home from the grocery store with the kids since it really was blazing hot. and they didn't want to walk any more. I can carry groceries, and Thomas, but not Bethy too. The driver took off before the children were entirely buckled in, and seemed surprised that I had any objection to this. I was already nervous about having them not strapped into car seats, despite the very short distance. The ride cost 5 dirham, and I gave the driver 2 dhs as a tip for stopping in the correct place and driving relatively conservatively. About $2 total, but I won't do it with the kids again.

We have an extensive list of TV channels to peruse here. Unfortunately the list doesn't say which numbers coincide with which stations, and I haven't found a TV schedule yet. We've found some good stations for the kids. Essential when you spend most of the day inside and the car rental company hasn't cleared me for takeoff yet. Yesterday Bethy watched the Jetsons. Now normally I'm not that big of a fan of the Jetsons, but it was in Arabic. "La la la, Rosie!!!" She watched the whole thing.

Awesome. I'm on the lookout for dubbed I Love Lucy episodes now.

The kids especially like JimJam channel which has lots of the UK shows they are familiar with from back home, Thomas the Tank Engine, (Sir Topham Hat has reverted to his original moniker:"The Fat Conductor" here, for those of you who are familiar with the series, ie anyone with boys), Angelina Ballerina, Kipper the Dog, and Rubber Dubbers. Bob the Builder has the same episodes, but the actors who do the voices here are quite broadly British, saying things like "cor!" and Bob has the most pretentious British accent you can imagine. Bethy keeps saying "Listen to Scoop! Lofty sounds different! Wendy sounds different!" She seems amused rather than distressed about this.

There are lots of Al Jazeera channels, and I think 5 Iran channels. We tend toward BBC Food, the Travel Channel, CNN. There are 163 channels, the last one being Dubai Racing, showing Black Beauty tonight, I notice.

The daily newspaper brought to the room each morning hasn't gotten the attention I'd like to give it. It's fascinating to read the same sorts of headlines as back home, but with the Middle Eastern perspective. "Iran Angers West with Nuclear Testing", "Palestine Welcomes Home Heroes" (the Israelis describe this as exchanging prisoners for bodies). Then there was today's huge headline. Madeline Albright would approve.

I also read an article admonishing women not to use lightening creams on their babies or eat only white foods while pregnant in a vain attempt to have a light-skinned baby, but rather to accept the beauty of all skin colors. They must find the tanning toasting flesh out by the pool inconceivable.

Someone asked if all the photos on here are mine. You may assume that they are. If I use someone else's they'll credited.

I had housekeeping send us a babysitter so I could go running today. The kids loved her. About $20 for a minimum of 2 hours. I only had scheduled one hour, but went ahead and paid her for the 2, letting her go at one. (Pushover, I know, but she was a sweetheart. I shall schedule better next time).

Naturally I chose high noon for my trial run, the worst part of the day. Looking to challenge myself. Let me tell you right now, people: running in the middle of the day in the Middle East is no joke.

I have no idea how far I went, but I was out there for 30-40 minutes, more than long enough to run a 5k at my very slowest, and I wasn't going my slowest. It actually felt as though my skin was burning, that way-too-close-to-the-fire sensation, when I slowed down and didn't get the wind factor.

I'd gone out with a frozen bottle of water, topping it with one inch of cold water, figuring that when it was almost thawed I'd head back. I thought to be safe I'd sort of circle near home, never be more than 1/2 mile away.

At 108 F ("feels like 118", according to TWC, and 31% humidity, not too bad,) I think I went less than a mile before it was completely melted. This was a bottle that was frozen solid.

When I came back I went straight to the shower, putting a cold washcloth on my neck while I stripped and was that ever a good shower. My ears were ringing, something that usually happens after a serious sprint at the end of a race, but my breathing was back to normal before I was even in the room, so I took that as a favorable sign. The red cheeks you see in the photograph are after at least 10 minutes of cold water (and when it started to heat up a bit I swore internally. I wanted Arctic! I wanted glacial! Bring on the cold!) and at least 20 minutes of air conditioning after that.

Mmmmmmmmmm, toasty.

The next time I run I hope to be with the Dubai Creek Striders at 6 AM on Saturday. Now, they know when to run, and now I know I can hang with the distance.

For those of you who think I'm crazy, I offer the following evidence:

Gotta be fast to keep up with these two.

Hello, my friend, hello...

If you can speak three languages you're trilingual. If you can speak two languages you're bilingual. If you can speak only one language you're an American. -Author Unknown

With this sort of thing firmly in mind, I am determined to learn as much as I can about the people we're starting to recognize in our everyday existence and greet and thank them in their native languages. Seems like the least I can do. There is such a diverse group of cultures here I think it is a wonderful opportunity not only for myself, but especially for the kids. Here are some of the ones we're used so far: [bracketed entries have not been attempted, but are in reserve.]

English: hello, thank you

Swahili: Jambo, Asante sana

(thanks to Wanjiru Gitome back home at VMFW)

Arabic: Marhaba, Shukran

German: Guten tag, [Danke schoen]

(tried guten morgen on a German coffee drinker but he studiously ignored us. So much for 6th grade Deutsch class.)

Tagalog: [Hello---Kamusta], A salamat

(thanks to May Yoyongco at VMFW and Michael and May Ann at Costa Coffee UAE)

Hindi: Namaste, [Shukriyaa]

Malayalam: Namaskaram, Nandi

Kashmiri: Salam, [ ]

FYI on the last 3: I am asking individuals from India how to say these things to them since there's also Punjab and Tamil and this American doesn't know what else spoken in India...

Our room stewards told me that the way to say "hello" to them is Hap kha nam kjah hey. I had them dictate it to me as I wrote it down. We'll get to "thank you" tomorrow. They wanted to know why I wanted to know and were politely enthusiastic. I liked that they made sure I wrote it down correctly.

Bethy very much wants to say Aloha and Mahalo but we haven't run into any Hawaiians yet. Pity.

I am getting questions from the USA (Which I love! Keep it up, people!!) about our everyday lives here. You can see our 5th floor balcony here (the one with the laundry drying, (probably already dry, it's been more than 5 minutes) just below the palm frond).

The grocery stores here are very similar to the ones back home. There are many UK, Australian, South American and Indian goods. I cannot say how pleased I am to get my hands on UK-made Cadbury products. I did have my first gaffe (that I noticed, anyway) by not weighing my fruits and vegetables before getting into the grouchy cashier's line. He was not pleased with me, and even less pleased when I spent 83 dirhams and gave him a 1,000 dhs note. (I wanted change, what can I say?) He looked directly at me, the only time he has before or since, shook his head and said, quite unmistakably, "forget it."

Despite two more attempts to win him over by having my produce well-weighed and labeled and being ruthlessly friendly and polite, he managed to resist all my efforts and I have decided to use other checkers, which has worked out better for everyone, I am sure.

Here is what we had for lunch today: (this is a gratuitous photo, I admit, especially since I added in the lavender chicken in a fit of whimsy) coddled eggs, scones, grapes, chocolate milk for the kids, and local sweet melon (called "dinosaur egg melon" back in the USA, at least at Trader Joe's). Mike says he read that the UAE grows all of it's own produce now thanks to irrigation.

I also didn't have to clean my own coddlers. There they were, all lined up in shining cleanliness, after the room guys tidied the kitchen.

Back to the grocery store; there is a separate non-Muslim section for pork products, though I haven't made my way back there. The Australian beef has my full attention at this time. I haven't quite figured out why some things are very inexpensive and other things are pricey. For example, that fabulous Aussie beef: 0.42 kg cost 7.75 dhs (less than $2) but 4 slices of Jarlsberg (0.18 kg) cost 19.20 dhs.

We may have to stop eating cheese! Inconceivable!

I was asked about the flowers and birds here, are there any the same as in the USA? One thing that has shocked me is that they have real grass lawns. Not crabgrass, as you'd see in Florida or Texas, the real deal. I have no idea how much they must water those suckers to keep them alive, but it must be a lot. Certainly every time we are out walking the sprinklers are either running or just finished. No wonder the slugs are happy here.

There are Bougainvillea flowers, which I recognize from the Caribbean, Frangipani, which smell wonderful (Hawaii), Honeysuckle and Jasmine. Interestingly, box hedges.

The only birds that are the same thus far are doves, though there are some sparrow-y birds, and some birds that look rather like large chickadees. Their singing is wonderful. I assume these frequently-watered gardens are an oasis for them; beyond the settled areas the desert stretches to the horizon.

Mike got a car for us yesterday, and I am nearly dreading driving it. If the only thing that happens is that we get lost, I shall be happy for the rest of my life. Speaking of inconceivable... (one must work that in whenever one can to add levity to life). Last night we took a drive to the Ibin Batuta Mall and between the traffic circles (of which I am phobic and Mike is a huge fan) and the occasional lane lines which, if followed, abruptly end in certain disaster against a concrete wall (parents, forget you read that last line), I was not exactly reassured, though we laughed pretty hard at the lane of death (ditto on that one, oh ascendants of ours).

I neglected to take my camera, which is too bad, because the malls here are so over the top. This one has 6 themed areas; China, Persia, Andelusia, India, Tunisia and Egypt. Huge domes, gorgeous reproductions that put most museums to shame. Here I finally got to hear the call to prayer, which is quite beautiful, as we ate. (Indian tandoori with naan and Brit fish & chips, if you're interested. Any bets as to who ate what?) While walking around to take in the sights I was happy to find a L'occitane, should I be in need of a lavender fix (duh) and Bethy and I discovered a scrumptious pistachio lotion. There are no words to describe the variety of people there, happily coexisting as they shopped. Three Arab women, in various levels of traditional dress, became increasingly amused by Thomas and his antics. Eventually they approached us to play with him, gifting us with some delicious flattened figs. (Just like Fig Newtons, but far, far more flavorful and with more texture). Their English put me to shame, I must add.

Lastly, I know better than to have a post without photos of Bethy and Thomas. At the pool this morning.

When you're smiling the whole world smiles with you...

Bethy asked me to post some photos we took the other day of the "wildlife" here.

These beautiful flowers are well tended by large, formidable looking, all-black bumblebees.

We saw speedy geckos last night when we went out after sunset for the kids to play in the pool, and there are lots and lots of different birds, most with their mouths open, I assume to cool themselves down.

Aside from wildlife, there's hotel life. When the 3 room cleaners came last night we were in the suite, so they carefully left the door open (to avoid the inappropriate situation of being behind closed doors with a woman not their wife, I think), and got to work. Pretty soon I heard giggling from our room and went back to find Thomas getting his little round tummy gently tickled by one of the room stewards who was grinning ear to ear.

Bethy was loving all the attention they gave her, listening to her chatter about all the things in her day. No one thinks twice before picking up a child or playing with one. Interestingly, if the kids were getting such attention in the states I would be alarmed. Here it's just natural. I love how the stewards take extra care to set the children's room up in charming ways, arranging their toys and blankets just so, thoughtful details.

I'm beginning to wonder if this hands-on way of interacting with kids is better. Children are viewed as a pleasure and gift here and are loved by all adults, which makes taking care of them feel like the privilege it is instead of a burden or annoyance.

I was worried about the kids and the 220 volt outlets here, but in this apartment at least, you have a separate switch to turn each outlet on or off. This works well.

Thomas is well marked with bonks: encounters with the new layout and hard floors, but he seems to be puttering along just fine. We went outside this morning to play on the playground before it got too hot. This is relative, since it was already 95 F.

Now that the kids know there's a shaded shallow pool I'm pretty sure we're going to be out there a lot. Last night they played there with a little boy named Achmed and his older brother, probably 4 and 7 years old, who were very kind and careful of Thomas in particular.

At first I thought the boys were Americans because they were speaking English and using American idioms; turned out they were Middle Eastern. I love how our children played together so beautifully.

Poolside, their mother, dressed in her abaya, thoughtfully told me where I could buy swim floats for Thomas, and their father jumped up to help Thomas when it looked like he needed it.

It gave me hope for the world.

Damned Yankees...

The kids and I walked to the local store for coffee and groceries at about 11 this morning.

As we went out the front door of our hotel the doorman held the door for me and, looking concerned he said "Taxi, ma'am, taxi?"

"No, thank you." ( I have no desire to take both car seats in a taxi to the store, tote them around somehow and then reinstall them in a second taxi to come home).

"Please ma'am, is very hot. Every day you walk, yesterday you walk, today you walk, yes?"

"Yes, we don't have a car yet."

"No car, ma'am? You go to the grocery store?"

"Yes, just to the grocery store. We're getting a car today. We like to walk."

"Ma'am, the children are small, the sun it is hot. What room are you?'

"Room 517. We'll be OK."

"Ma'am, you know the gym, you can go to the gym?"

"Yes, thank you, I know about the gym."

"Ma'am, what is your country?" (Here I should have answered UAE, but that wasn't what he was asking.)

I told him the US, smiled, and began to go down the stairs. "Wait ma'am," he said and took Bethy's hand to lead her carefully down the stairs.

I assured him that yes, I am crazy and we'd be fine.

He was trying so hard to be polite and get through to this idiot American. Now, while it is 113 F out there right now, we had hats and SPF 70 and water for each of the kids and myself. The grocery store is all of 3-4 blocks up and 1 block over.

While in the air-conditioned store we had several conversations with the folks we're starting to get to know. It was kindly pointed out to me that the children had rosy faces, and that my arms are quite freckled.

I will consider this trip a success if no one here or abroad calls the CPS on me.

Here are the kids from when we got back to the hotel, by the way.

See? They're fine! :)

Don't make me over...

There are a few details that didn't make it onto the blog, and I truly think they have their place.

In Amsterdam the paid ladies room was labeled "DAMES". On the men's side there was a large woman taking Euros and admonishing the men "Only peen, no cubicle. Only you peen here."

I hope they got a discount for being in the standing-only section.

Some of the street signs were humorous. Here's one:

Once you get past Haarlem (not as exciting as the NYC 'hood, not a pimpmobile in sight) and go one street over from the A'dam -Noord sign there's one for A'dam West.

Holy Dutch street signs, Batman!

On the first flight I sat on a plate of tomatoes and buttered rolls that had ended up on my seat, most likely with the help of a small person.

On the second flight I ended up wearing the complimentary champagne glass of highly pulped orange juice, definitely with the help of Thomas. This is before the plane even started to make it way over to the runway. I am sure this made a fabulous impression upon the flight attendants, all of them tall, blonde and beautiful Dutch women who likely posed for cocoa containers as children. They were extremely kind to me, as one would be to someone with limited intelligence and resources.

I also managed to slip on a plastic-wrapped life jacket on the floor, tried to catch myself on the armrest, which opened and summarily dumped me on the floor. I got a bruise out of it, but Mike had a good laugh. You know, the kind where you have your hands over your mouth and are trying to apologize for laughing as you howl.

Lastly, it has been interesting to try to post on Blogspot here, because the header task bar has mysteriously been converted to Arabic (pretty sure I flagged the blog as obscene trying to figure out which one said "new post") and the spellcheck is British rather than American-spelling based.

Grey coloured favourite tea cosy. See what I mean?

Getting to like you, getting to hope you like me.,..

On our first day, waking not too many hours after falling asleep, spurred by curiosity and hunger, we walked through the morning heat and humidity through the trees on a pedestrian path to Costa Coffee Shop and the grocery store. The coffee was very good; we managed to drop the US equivalent of $45 on blended fruit drinks and pastries. Mike had to chase me down in the grocery store to get enough money to pay the bill.

Searching for diapers at the grocery store I met my first stumbling block:

Now, it was quite easy to select the baby product line. (see pic) Elisabeth Anne is Bethy's full name. How cool is that? (I hope she doesn't get teased in school.)

However, I was slightly stymied when I reached the diapers. The Arabic was no problem. See the one diaper container on the left in English? All the diapers were printed in English on one side and Arabic on the other. So, while I could feel quite proud to recognize the size 4, (the white E-resembling number at the bottom), the sizes were designated by weight in kilograms. Now, I couldn't tell you how much Thomas weighs in kilograms. I'm all over the pounds thing, but kilograms and kilometers and the like haven't quite translated yet.

I trusted that the size would translate and it all worked out well on Thomas' end.

In addition to the diapers we purchased fruit, eggs, porridge, Irish butter, an onion, Kraft cheddar cheese ($10/lb!) milk, bread, and sugar cubes. Everything tasted so good (I shall not be peeling all fruits and veggies, no matter what the CDC says...the kids like grapes!) and the yolks on the eggs were the most gorgeous orange color and unbelievably creamy.

The hotel room was in utter chaos, strewn luggage everywhere. My legs felt like we were at sea, and I could tell Thomas felt the same way as he kept stumbling and falling for no apparent reason.

Here is our view:

Just behind Thomas you can see the Jebel Ali Race Course. I've been on the lookout for camels("Gamel!") but it turns out that this one is for horses, known for, and I quote "it's garden-party atmosphere". We have 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen with basics, dining and living rooms. The couches are brown suede and I am deeply in love with them. Tile flooring, which is causing Thomas additional mobility issues (and causing us to have visions of small noggins whacking the floor), deep carpets, 2 entertainment centers. Tons of storage areas.

Bethy has been asking why she doesn't have lizards in her room, but I assured her that when we go look for a house we'll try to get one that includes geckos.

By the afternoon of our first day Thomas' vocabulary had been reduced to the word "no" and Bethy had a meltdown. We put them to bed, hardening ourselves to the sobs. They slept and slept until we woke them in the early evening. They woke sad, but eventually came around and then we did what any intelligent jet lagged parents would do.

We took them to a party!

Mike's coworker Frank invited us to his apartment housewarming, just blocks away. We headed out, but Mike had to dash back for the address, and I went on with the kids. A bus full of workers passed by, many tanned faces and dark eyes looking out at us. Being an American, I smiled at them and they whooped and waved their arms out the windows, teeth flashing in wide grins at the woman with the curly-haired blondie kids, one of whom was wearing her giant pink sunhat and new rainbow butterfly wings. I felt absolutely no menace from them, which I would have understood and not taken personally; their lives must be unimaginably hard. Instead they were open and friendly, the overall feeling I have gotten here.

At the party we met a small assortment of the folks that Mike will be working with. Bethy had a wonderful time rolling lumpia and it was a pleasure to meet what I think will be an amusing and enjoyable community of associates. The Scots were bawdy, the women of many ethnic backgrounds sweet and enthusiastic, the men (the Scottish get their own category) made pleasant conversation and refrained from the karaoke. Frank was a perfect, relaxed host, spending the night refining his Long Island Iced Tea concoction for willing subjects. Lots of food, lots of talk, and by 8:15 we called it a night, blaming our early departure on the "tired kids". Back at the hotel we collapsed, full of lumpia and happy.

(see the Coke can on the counter?)

Our second day was all about getting our lives slightly more functional. Waking early (4:30 or so) we spent the day making it so that housekeeping could at least come in and give us some clean towels.

We gave up on the washer-dryer. We'd tried many iterations to make it work, pored over the instruction booklet, to no avail. We'd asked Frank, who used to live in this building, how he made his work, and he said he'd tried 43 different combinations until it worked, and never changed the settings again, so he didn't recall the winning combination. We called maintenance, then when that didn't work, we ended up getting a whole new machine. And a very wet floor that they swore housekeeping would come take care of, though we never did see them and eventually it dried into interesting patterns. Hopefully they'll take care of it today. They seem like very thoughtful and thorough young men. No women on the hotel staff, as far as I can tell.

Then there is the mysteries of the two buttons to flush the toilet (and one must be very strong to push them) which both seem to do exactly the same thing, and the sprayer next to the toilet that we've theorized is to wash one's feet for prayer (Frank and Mike's theory) and I think is to be used for bidet-esque purposes.

There was an incredibly thick fog yesterday morning (I couldn't even see the building next to us), and a wonderful breeze. I sat on the porch with my feet propped up, working in the morning's (comparable) coolness and warm damp. Today Mike goes into work, and hopefully will come home with a car for us. I've had no problem walking everywhere, which seems to surprise the other folks in the area. Yes it's hot, yes it's humid. So? We can deal and I want to run soon! I did a few blocks yesterday in the middle of the day and it was just fine.

We also found the coolest thing: they have slugs here! Very fast slugs!!! (They'd have to be to not dry out, wouldn't they?) Bethy was enamoured, and the passing Brit walking his dog thought we were odd. ("Whot, don't ye have slugs where ye come from?") We told him we're from Seattle, and apparently that explained it all, why this small girl was petting a slug and her mother was so delighted about it.

Yes, the slug was actually rather smooth and not terribly sticky, therefore, at least to a 5-year-old naturalist, pettable.

This morning Bethy and Mike woke up at 3:30 AM, so I am going to go hit up the tea box.