Our First Trip Around the Sun

Well, it's officially been a year. As it goes with living abroad and in life generally, some days feel like they'll never end, and some days just fly by. But when we look back on the past year, we reminisce about the adventure it's been and smile at the thought of our second year as desert dwellers in this crazy little city.

On the occasion of our one year anniversary here in the Middle East, two photos of our living room, taken exactly one year apart.

2012: Sad. Like a cheap, soulless extended stay motel. Do you feel as sorry as I do for the people who live here?

Fast forward to 2013: Still not ideal. But thanks to Ikea, an excess of Christmas lights and ditching the world's ugliest living room set, it feels a little more like home each day.

And our living room isn't the only thing that's changed. In other news from the home front, we took the plunge and bought boxed wine. We are officially drinkers of wine out of a box, something that isn't acceptable unless you live in a college dormitory or are a card carrying member of AARP. How did this happen to us, you ask? That's a story for a different post.

Dubai? Really?

Friends and coworkers who I've spoken to in the past week or so know that I'm going through a what I affectionately call a "Wow, Dubai really sucks!" phase. To be fair, this is the first of these I have experienced in close to a year, which I've been told is actually quite impressive by other expats.

I can think of a few causes for this relatively sudden change of heart about our sandy concrete jungle.

First, we went to Europe for about six days a few weeks back. Have you guys been to Prague? It has to be one of my most favorite places in the world. The cultural experience and diversity here are unmatched, but in my opinion, nothing here comes close to the beauty of Europe. The air was cold and crisp and perfect. When we got too cold or our feet hurt from walking, we found an invariably charming little pub and enjoyed a ridiculously cheap (and really good!) beer. In addition to the amazing beer, Czech cuisine is almost entirely pork and potato based, so my husband was obviously perfectly content.

Here we are are after a hike to the beautiful Prague Castle:

We also took a road trip through the Czech countryside and spent an extra day in Vienna, another perfectly endearing city. Here's Rob in front of the new Ritz-Carlton there:

The entire trip was incredible, but like kryptonite for my seamless Dubai experience.

It is also our first fall here in the Middle East. But alas, my favorite season just isn't the same here in the desert (it's 97 degrees today!) No pumpkin lattes at Starbucks, no cozy scarves and sweaters, no leaves falling. Fall is all but unrecognizable here except for the smell of Trader Joe's pumpkin coffee wafting through the air of our apartment (thank you again to my friend Jackie for surprising me with reminders of fall from home!!)

Finally, our washing machine is broken again. Again! It's been on the same cycle for the last 14 hours and it pains me to think of the state of the clothes inside. Yet another broken, inefficient, nonsensical thing that is difficult to accept on tough days, even though we know they are part of daily life here.

The best advice I've been given for times like this from other similarly minded expats is to begin planning. Something, anything. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, then Christmas, then our second (already!) wedding anniversary, so at least I'm not at a loss for things to plan.

Here's to brighter days, cooler temps and functioning appliances!

We're Mobile!

I'm sorry it's been so long, but I can't tell you how quickly time flies here! We've already been home from the States for a month, and our next mini vacation will be in about three weeks (exotic destination TBD.) Ah, public holidays in the UAE. I don't understand them, but man do I appreciate them.

Anyway, I have plenty to tell you, but think my most compelling news is that we got a car! It's a 2006 Ford Focus, ironically my first American car, and it's red. Well, it was probably red in 2006 before seven years of desert sun and dust took their toll. Needless to say, it's a real beauty.

Aside from dishing out the money, our main hesitation was rooted in the fact that we've observed maniac drivers from afar for the better part of a year.

And it's terrifying. It's the chaos of people from more than 200 different countries, each with their own interpretation of laws and opinions about what constitues proper driving etiquette. I've never been a timid driver, but if you don't regularly invent your own lane of traffic or lay on your horn at least eight times on your commute to work, you'll be eaten alive.

So with whiter-than-usual knuckles, I've speedily toughened up during my three short weeks on the road (interrupted by the times the car has been in the shop. Three so far.)

For citizens of the US and many other western countries, getting legal permission to drive these precarious roads is simple. Just a letter from your employer, a hundred dollars and more paperwork than could possibly be necessary. For many other people, it's an extremely rigorous and expensive process, with driving lessons, a questionable and extremely subjective analysis of whether you've passed a driving test, and even more lessons if you don't.

The whole system is a bit suspect, but we're grateful for the comforts that so often accompany an American passport.

Here I am in front of our new car:

No, not really. This is a ridiculous Rolls Royce, the likes of which we see multiple times on a daily basis in this city.

Here is OUR sweet ride:

We always oblige tourists who want their photo taken with it.

It's not a Rolls Royce. It's not beautiful and it has plenty of imperfections. But no more metro, no more buses and no more sweating off half my body weight on the walk to work. At the end of the day, I couldn't love our little car more.

A Glimpse Into the Life of an Expat When Ramadan Falls in July

If you had asked me only about a month ago, I would have told you I really love our life in Dubai. That I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly we acclimated, by how much we're learning and how grateful I am that we took the leap into this experience.

If you ask me about Dubai now? Well, let's just say that my words wouldn't resemble those. And they probably wouldn't be nice.

It's so damn hot here. I feel like we live in a city-sized steam room. In my 32 years, I didn't know there was a place on the planet where the heat of the sand and the temperature of the ocean actually make it too hot to go to the beach. Quite the departure from my days in Northern California.

And it's Ramadan, which means no eating or drinking (or even chewing gum) in public until the sun sets. So what do we do on a day off when temperatures reach 120 degrees with no water? There's the mall, the movies....aaaand I've named everything there is to do when Ramadan falls in the summertime. No lunch out, no going for coffee, no drinks in the bar (they open at 8pm if at all), no going for walks or to the beach or doing anything but spending money in one of many cavernous buildings full of overpriced stores we can't afford.

And while I fully appreciate the invaluable cultural experience of living in a Muslim country that so stringently observes Ramadan, I've had enough and I want to go home now.

But alas, we leave it all behind us (at least for a couple of weeks) in exactly one week from today, when we'll be at the airport, waiting to board our hideous but much anticipated flight to Detroit. I'm just one sleeping pill, a book or two and five movies away from home!

I'm excited to sit outside and drink my morning coffee. I'm excited to sit outside and drink my evening wine. I'm excited to drink wine in public. I'm excited to drink good wine. I'm excited for greenery and fresh air and chirping birds. I'm excited to see two friends get married and I'm excited to see my dog Zoe, who I miss more than I could possibly articulate in a blog post. But most of all, I'm excited to see my family: my mom and dad and my parents-in-law, our siblings and our and sweet nephews who have gotten way too big during our time away.

Just for fun, and perhaps because it illustrates his heat induced delirium, here's a photo of my husband in a monkey hat, resembling a character in a certain beloved Disney film set in Arabia.

A (Free) Weekend Away

Soooooo, the excuses I have for not posting exist on multiple levels, not the least of which that my Google settings are in Arabic and it took me forever to figure out how to create a new post.

Anyway, I have so much to tell you about! We're continuing to explore, learning more and more about this eclectic little corner of the world with each day. Ramadan officially started four days ago, and most certainly warrants its own post, so I'll leave it for another day. Suffice it to say, it's been quite the learning experience to live in a Muslim country during the holy month. It's beautiful and frustrating and impressive and mystifying.

When the weekend comes, we want and deserve to have a great time, but continually discover there is very little to do here during the hot summer months unless you enjoy spending countless hours in shopping malls (they're everywhere and they're FREEZING!) or movie theaters (Bollywood, anyone?) But this weekend, we went on a staycation right here in Dubai. For work, I was tasked with visiting a competitor hotel for the weekend, forced to experience their restaurants, bars, in room dining, room accommodations and spa. A tough request, I know, but I'm wholly committed to my job and never one to shy away from a challenge. My husband is equally as supportive, and happily came along for my arduous "work day." We went to a really grand, very successful five star hotel not far from mine.

This was our lovely room:

My unequivocal favorite part of this hotel was the spacious balcony. As you might know, summers in Dubai are..... miserable. I tried to think of a kinder word, but quickly conceded. It's miserable. For instance, it's 102 degrees with 50 percent humidity as I write this at 6pm. For a Northern California gal who loves the outdoors but hasn't been outside for longer than 10 minutes in more than a month, this balcony was a dream come true, somehow staying cool long enough to enjoy a glass bottle of rose wine alfresco.

We went to the spa for a soak and steam, then tried out the bar before dinner, where we ordered real cocktails instead of wine or beer as usual! We're very sophisticated and grown up. Rob calls this one "00 Andy: Shaken not Stirred." Also, let the record show that I'm finally wearing the ridiculously expensive, "something blue" shoes I wore at my wedding.

After navigating the 15 page menu, half of which we didn't understand, we enjoyed a really authentic Japanese dinner on the hotel's 17th floor, with the kind of Asian service I had never seen before moving to Dubai. I dropped my chopsticks and I had no fewer than three people run towards me to provide new ones.

In the morning, we had a really beautiful breakfast, and I went for my obligatory massage. I'm no expert on spa treatments, but what's not to love about a 60-minute rub down? It was a perfect ending to a nice little surprise getaway. Here we are with an experimental take on the "selfie" as the young people call it. Doesn't really work, but I admire Rob's resourcefulness.

Wild Wadi

The best thing about waiting weeks between blog posts is that I have a lot to write about.

The worst thing about waiting weeks between blog posts is getting an earful from friends and family. (Thanks guys for keeping me on track.)

The weirdest thing about going to a water park in the Middle East is running around in a bikini, in the very country where I was afraid of showing my knees not so many moons ago.

I've never met a water park I liked. Actually, I really hate them. The water tastes funny and the ground is always slimy and people who shouldn't be running around in spandex are freely running around in spandex (myself included.)

But when a client gave me tickets to Wild Wadi Water Park here in Dubai and I saw triple digits on the thermometer (read: iPhone) a few weeks ago, slimy water be damned, we were going to the water park.

And though I hesitate to admit it, this water park is pretty amazing. Here it is:



My favorite part of the day was climbing up to a slide we hadn't thoroughly investigated but that had a clever name (the Jumeirah Sceirah) and even though we saw a countless number of people backing out, continued up because we're Bruces and we're not scared of water slides.

We soon discovered that mostly unsuspecting guests are placed in a scientific-looking clear cylinder where they're made to cross their arms and legs, but only after being forced to remove all jewelry and hold it as if that reduces the chances of it ending up in a drain somewhere.

Looking closely at the picture again, I'm not entirely convinced it wasn't one of those cryogenic freezing capsules in a past life.
Anyway, it counts down, "three, two, one" as if you're on an Apollo mission and the floor beneath falls out and you're shot through said tube. "This would never fly in the states," I thought to myself for what must be the ten thousandth time since we moved here.

Here we are in our only photo of the day. See how authentic? Anyone who says Dubai's not the real Middle East doesn't know what they're talking about :)

The Employee Cafeteria: A Journey

Whew, it's been a long time! Sorry about that. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it yet, but work hours here are substantially longer than at home. The amount of free time I had at home to cook a meal resembling dinner, exercise, clean my house, take care of general overall hygeine...let's just say that I sure do miss it.

Anyway, this week was Cultural Week at work, where a different country's food was represented in the employee dining room each day. I love Cultural Week. It's amazing for so many reasons. First and most simply, it significantly reduces the nagging feeling of dread one feels going to the employee cafeteria every day. Second, I still can't get over how many different countries are represented in my hotel. It's like 65! It amazes me each and every day and I'm convinced there's nowhere like it in the world. Third and most important, the employees from each country actually cook the food, decorate the cafeteria and provide the entertainment, working through the night to represent their country the best they possibly can. It's incredible. (The answer to your question is no. No, there is no American day. Hot dogs, burgers and apple pie with baseball playing on the TV does not a cultural day make. And as for entertainment, the Filipinos were proudly blasting the Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga, so that's now off limits.)

The fun continues next week (and consequently, so does the battle of fitting into my clothes as Cultural Week slowly rears it ugly head on my thighs.) I'm not qualified to vote--only eight senior managers get to vote--but if I had a say, here it is:

1st place: Kenya (Legit. A Zulu warrior serving me goat is a clear winner in my book.)
2nd place: Indonesia (I felt like our tiny, boring cafeteria was transported to the tropics.)
3rd place: India (I've said it before and I'll say it again. Indian food is the best. Except for mutton. Gross.)
4th place: Egypt (Docked for the huge chunks of beef liver but redeemed slightly by the belly dancer and colorful costumes.)
5th place: The Philippines (I was wondering why I had never had Filipino food in the states. I think I figured it out.)

I didn't have my phone with me at lunch (my enthusiasm to stuff my face with ethnic food obviously clouded my memory) but here's a small example from India day to show the work that goes into it.

It's as if you've been transported to Mumbai, am I right?

In other related news, my list of places I want to visit while we live here has grown, though I've exhibited will power and reigned it in to about 22 countries.