A wise friend of mine, Brianna, said to me before I embarked on this adventure, that I should try to note all the interesting, unusual, and fascinating things right away and write them down because after a while, one gets used to what’s around them. I suppose that’s the intent of this blog: to remember the experience I’m having while I’m having it and try to share that with those who’
ve expressed an interest. Here goes.
Almost as soon as I got through customs at the airport, I saw two men in long white robes walk up to one another and kiss on the mouth. And this was not a peck. This was a wet smack of a kiss. I had heard before I got here, from my Uncle Dan, that it’s not uncommon to see Arab men holding hands or walking arm in arm, but to see it in person is still rather shocking when coupled with the knowledge that this is a country where homosexuality is illegal. That’s the way it is here: it’s fine for people of the same gender to show their affection for one another by holding hands, kissing, and putting their arms around one another, but for a man and a woman to do the same is a big no-no.
But same-gender affection has hardly been the most difficult thing to get used to. So far, the thing that is giving me the biggest challenge is living in a city with crazy city traffic. On top of having to watch in every direction as I’m driving down the highway for someone who thinks he should be occupying my car’s space, it is completely illegal to give anyone the bird or swear. Those things can land an expat like me in jail and perhaps even a one-way ticket home. So I keep my hands on the wheel and a smile on my face. My thought, though, will wander where they may.
There are a lot of
pluses to living in this new place. One is that I can pretty much get anything I want done for me. Don’t want to lug my groceries to the car? There’s someone to do that. Want a Coke from the corner market? Someone can deliver it. The culture is very service-oriented. Why do something for yourself that you can pay to have someone else do for you? So yeah, I’ll be getting a cleaning woman here soon.
Another thing that has been really nice is that there are certain things reserved only for women. Now I know for men, this might not seem fair: that there are times for women only at the local water park or jogging path, but it’s nice to be able to go there and relax, not having to worry about the leering stares of men. Especially since most of the time I see women here, they are covered from head to toe in black. It’s been explained that they are protecting themselves from the prying eyes of men, and being modest. When there are no men around, they take off their
abaya and
hijab and reveal their unreserved selves. It’s like watching a flower open. My students also uncover when they come in to the women-only environment of the school, and cover themselves before going in to the outside world. They look so much more like children when they’re not covered, I barely recognize them outside.
Finally, simply living in another culture is gloriously new and fascinating. Women and men wear flowing robes with their heads covered in a traditional style while sporting designer shades, shoes and the newest and best cell phones. The women all seem to have bags with labels on them like Mark Jacobs, Coco Chanel, and
Prada. This includes my seventh and eighth grade students. I feel like a pauper with my
faux leather knock-off, but so far I’
ve kept the fact that it cost me virtually nothing to myself.
Time has a different meaning. When someone tells me they’ll be at my apartment by 7, it could mean 7, or 9, or tomorrow. A common phrase to hear is “
Insha’Allah” or god willing which basically means, “I can’t promise since God might have other plans I
didn’t know about.” It seems to make things a lot looser. It’s frustrating for me as a Westerner, coming from a culture so dictated by time, but sometimes it’s nice to know I won’t get the hairy eyeball if I’m late. I’m just being cultural!
The neighborhood I live in is not the trendiest part of the city, but it has wonders all it’s own. It’s almost entirely Pakistanis who live in Al
Qusais, so when I walk down my hall I smell incense and curry. I met a little girl yesterday while working out in the gym upstairs. In the course of our conversation I said “Holy cow!” without thinking. She thought it was hysterical.
With a few friends in
Sharjah, a nearby city.
There are mosques everywhere. This is one in
Sharjah.
Night along Dubai Creek. It's so hot right now, no one really goes outside until after it gets dark.
Al
Mizhar American Academy for Girls: the school I now work for.
Arabian coffee pitchers.
An
Iftar tent. I see them everywhere now that it's Ramadan.
The lobby of
AAG (American Academy for Girls). Again, this is where I work.
Me posing in front of some traditional-style architecture.
It's hard to see, but that's the
Burj Al-Arab behind me.
My one and only camel sighting!
Well I'm, nearing the end of my first vacation in honor of the end of Ramada, Eid al Fitr, and before I plunge almost entirely into working (sometimes I have to remind myself of my primary reason for moving to Dubai) I thought I'd review my recent escapades.
Yesterday my neighbor and colleague, Wasan, took several of us to Ras al-Khaimah for the day. It was beautiful. After a month of seeing only desert and cityscape, I saw mountains and greenery. Before you judge these pictures too harshly as there is no greenery in them, let me say the greenery was sparse. Also, I forgot to take pictures of it when I had the chance, so now it appears I'm telling a whopper about the greenery that got away. 
As if seeing a more varied landscape were not enough, I swam in the Arabian Gulf for the first time. I also learned from the Salamah, an Iranian friend knowledgeable enough about Ras al-Khaimah to chauffer us around, that “Persian Gulf” is not an appropriate term any longer. In fact, it rather smacks of the Victorian notion of “Persia” being anything in the Gulf region. Historically (and I’m cautious of writing this and thereby inciting a backlash from all of my history colleagues more knowledgeable about all this history stuff) Persia is very specific to what is now modern day Iran. Who knew? Even if I hadn’t known all of that at the time, swimming in the Arabian Gulf was lovely. It was all I thought it would be and more: warm, clear, salty, mild water. Lovely. 
