An Abu Dhabi Day

This is phrase that we expats use a lot here in AD. It is very similar to having a raining Monday where everything that could go wrong does. Most of the time my Abu Dhabi days involve the inconveniences (or perhaps my perceptions of inconveniences) that seem to breed here. I’m not alone in feeling that nothing happens easily or in a logical way here.
I am writing about this topic because I have just finished a very lovely Abu Dhabi Day. I have the week off school so I thought I would start the week off by getting a few errands done and then maybe relax a little before I had to pick up the girls up from school. Being myself, I have pretty much booked up the rest of my week off with all kinds of things so this was going to be my one and only chance to just sit on my butt in a quiet house just because and I was looking forward to it. I made myself a short little list that I was sure that I could get done in a couple of hours:
Pilates
Bank
Buy a birthday card
Pay bills
Get milk

Sounds like a piece of cake right? Back in the US I could do all these things in one trip and have plenty of the 5 hours (between drop off and pick up from school) left over for vegetation.

The day dawned cloudy and windy which is out of the ordinary for Abu Dhabi and I should have taken this as an omen. I dropped the girls and the rest of my carpool off at school and immediately went to where I do Pilates. Normally we do the class in a park near my house outside, but by the time I got there the wind was whipping sand around into a decent little shamal. The trees started bending in half and big fat raindrops started to fall. The instructor showed up and promptly canceled the class. I was thrilled. I would have even more time to vegetate!
I got in the car and drove to a nearby mall to get started on my list. I decided to get my errand at the bank done first. I knew from past experience that the banks close early here (I got to the bank at 1202pm the day before and was too late). For an example of the inconveniences here I will explain my need to go to the bank. In order to buy a car here in the UAE, we have to pay our car payments with UAE checks which means we have to have an UAE checking account. Steve’s paycheck is direct deposited into our US checking account. We were told before moving here that a portion of his check would be able to be deposited into an account here for our use…..NOT. Also, there is no way for me to transfer funds directly from our US account into our UAE account, so I have to go to an ATM, withdraw money from it and then deposit it into our account here.
Of course there was no close parking to the bank and I had to walk what seemed like a mile from my car to the bank in the nice shamal. I actually completed the task in about 5 minutes and was back out in the whirling sand in no time at all. Our bank is just outside a mall so I went into the mall and to the grocery store. I picked up some milk and a very important diet coke. I was ticking things off my list with no problem! I would have the whole morning to lay like broccoli!
It was about 845 by this time and although the bank and the grocery store were open, virtually nothing else at the mall was and wouldn’t be until 10 so I decided I would go home and take a shower (I had to get the milk out of the 90 degree heat anyway). I only had 2 more things to get done and I had plenty of time to spare. I went home and took a leisurely shower without anyone interrupting me. Luxury!
So, I decided to tackle the bills next. Back in the states, I would get on the computer and pay all my bills online in a matter of minutes. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way here. All the utilities (electric, water, phone, internet, cell phone, and air conditioning) have to be paid in person. I had noticed on the Etisalat (phone, internet, & cell) bill when I received it that I could apply to pay my bill online with my credit card. I thought that this was an excellent idea. I got online and filled out the very long application process with the lovely slow connection that I have come to love here in the UAE. After 45 minutes, I was at the point where I would input my debit card information and pay my bill. Suddenly, a bright red message came across the screen to inform me that I could not use a credit card issued in a country other than the UAE. What???
So, back to the drawing board, I got back in the car. I drove to the office where I paid our chilled water (air conditioning) bill. This I accomplished with little fuss (probably due to the fact that it is a self-serve counter and I did not have to deal with anything other than a form and an envelope to put my money in). I then drove 20 minutes to the nearest mall (one I can see from my house, but it takes 20 minutes to get there due to no connecting roads). Here I was hoping to find a birthday card and pay my Etislat (phone, internet, cell) bill.
I went immediately to the Etisalat counter and handed them my bills. During the transaction I discovered that they were overcharging me by 1500Dhs (about $410) on our phone bill. I complained about it and asked for an explanation. The only explanation I received is that I owed it, but they couldn’t produce an invoice of the services to show why I owed it. After speaking to 3 different “customer service representatives” and a manager, I was still not getting anywhere. They insisted that they needed to speak to my husband (I guess you need to have a Y chromosome to get any answers). I had been there for about 40 minutes and decided to give up. I decided to pay just the internet and my cell bill and call it a day with Etisalat. Miraculously the credit card machine that had worked for the customer before me was not working with my debit card and they told me to go to the ATM and get cash instead. I could literally feel my blood starting to boil at this point in time and explained to them (probably not too nicely) that I could not get them cash and that they needed to try my debit card. I can only get so much cash from the ATM each day and I had used my wad at the bank and paying the chilled water bill. Lo and behold, it did not work (it worked just fine for the person behind me) and I walked away mumbling very loudly about the stupidity and lack of convenience in this country.
Because I was so mad, I completely forgot about the birthday card and got back in the car and drove away. I had to go somewhere else to pay the electric bill anyway so I decided to do that. In the 20 minute drive to the Carrefour (similar to a Super WalMart) I think I was cut off no less than 10 times. This did nothing to improve my mood. I also discovered that I was low on gas (thank goodness for that little light). I then spent 35 minutes waiting to get gas. This is pretty much the norm here. For a country sitting on top of vast oil fields, they have very few gas stations and you usually have to wait 30 to 40 minutes to fill up your tank.
At the Carrefour, I paid the electric bill and searched high and low for a birthday card. I once more got in the car and drove to yet another mall in search of the elusive birthday card (this involved dealing with even more stupid drivers…they seem to breed here). My mood seemed to be plummeting with each minute.
I spent approximately 45 minutes walking through the third mall for a card without success. If you have been paying attention and adding up the time increments, you will have discovered that I was running quickly out of time. I didn’t have enough time to go anywhere else so after a quick soggy takeout sandwich for lunch, I had to get back in the car to pick up 4 five year olds.
I had the radio tuned to a local “classic rock” station in the car and Axel Rose was belting out Welcome to the Jungle. I thought it was fitting for my day and it served to fuel my bad mood. I turned the volume way up and tried to ignore all the idiots on the roads. I was totally caught off guard when the next song (On Top of the World by the Carpenters) started up. The complete illogical sequence of songs struck me as one of the funniest things I have ever heard and I started to laugh hysterically. I actually had to pull over (I was laughing so hard I was crying and could not see where I was going).
My mood improved dramatically and I started to think about my day. Yeah, it was pretty crappy and I didn’t get to the free time I wanted, but my day was probably infinitely better than the poor gas attendant who works hard in this heat and probably makes less than $25 a day. I also started thinking about how spoiled I have become to the conveniences of the United States. Yes, things are more convenient there, but the US has been around for a long time. The UAE is younger than I am, but they have come a tremendous way in their short 38 years. Thirty years ago, most people here didn’t even have a house let alone a car, a cell phone, and internet. Thinking this way made me think about how fast things have been and continue to grow here. They are definitely experiencing growing pains and things aren’t going to go smoothly when you grow so fast so quickly. Me getting outraged about things that are out of my control is not going to help anything.
I constantly worry about being the “stupid American” here, about being very narrow minded and rigid in the way I think things should be done. It took a silly little song to make me see that that was exactly what I was doing. I think I need to call the radio station and thank them for adjusting my attitude and making me realize that in the scheme of things, today was not such a bad day after all (although I REALLY wanted to lay like broccoli).

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

Steve may think that I’m a liar, but I really have enjoyed the weather here. That is until we had our first real rain. For those of you who have never lived in one, rain and the desert do not go well together. We had lived here for 6 months without rain and I hadn’t missed it at all, but Steve and the girls talked about it all the time and were delighted when we got caught in a downpour in Greece (I wasn’t so thrilled).
A week after we got back to Abu Dhabi, we signed up for a kayaking expedition. We took off from the large island of Abu Dhabi and headed toward some of the smaller uninhabited islands under some very dark looking clouds. We felt the first few drops when we were stopped at a small beach. The whole group was excited about the rain (it was a very gentle rain at this point). It continued to rain lightly off and on the rest of the day.
The next day, it was a little bit more aggressive. It wasn’t a steady rain, but now I was seeing large puddles everywhere. People started to panic. Drivers who can probably count on one hand how many times they have driven in rain were out in force (kind of like Floridians driving in the snow). It was total chaos. I was so happy that I had picked this day to drive to Dubai (45 minute drive normally) to finish my Christmas shopping…..NOT. It took me double the time to get home (1 ½ hours).
Because it only rains 1 to 2 times each year, the roads are not built with any drainage. This means that all the rain collects in large puddles on the streets. The more it rains, the bigger the puddles until some of the roads are completely under water. This is what started to happen on day 2 of the rain (when I was trying to get home). At this point, I think most of the inhabitants of the UAE were done with the rain, but alas….it was not done with us.
The next morning, I woke up early to go for a run. It drizzled on me the entire time, but other than dodging large puddles, it wasn’t too bad. I came back to the house and was checking my email while I was cooling off and started to hear a noise that I couldn’t identify. It took me a full 5 minutes to realize that it was rain hitting the roof. It was coming down in sheets. I was thrilled that I had come back from my run in time, but then as it continued, I realized I was going to have to take the kids to school in it.
I pick up 2 extra kids every day on our way to school. I was able to get my girls in the car and buckled under cover of the garage, but not the other two. I was looking like a drowned rat before we even got to school. It seemed to start to rain even harder when we pulled into the parking lot of school. Trying to get 4 kids under 7 out of a car with their backpacks and lunch boxes in a timely manner is not possible. Now I wasn’t the only drowned rat around. We ran for the door and in the process found a puddle that went half way up my calves….NICE. I was very done with the rain at that point.
I had to run some errands that day so I went to the grocery store and to pay some bills. Luckily all these things were in a mall with a garage so that I didn’t have to go out in the weather. I did however have to negotiate many large lakes (no longer merely puddles) in the road. At one point I went through a puddle and I could feel the water on the door of my SUV (not good). I quickly got off that road!
I went back home and changed ALL my clothes (everything was wet at that point) and decided to check FB while I did some laundry. Many of my friends here in Abu Dhabi were posting about all the leaks in their house due to the rain. Just like the roads here, the houses are not made very water-proof. I very happily posted back that I was one of the lucky ones without a leak. Not 5 minutes later while I was watching our pool overflow, I heard a noise coming from the front door. Water was literally pouring in from under the door into our foyer….so much for no leaks. I grabbed some towels and stuffed them under the door and hoped that the rain would stop soon. Steve had called me and asked me to check the balcony off our bedroom (one of his co-workers has the same house and water was flooding into the house from the balcony). While our balcony was fine, our roof was not. As I walked down the hall towards our room I discovered water freely flowing from the ceiling in the hallway. I grabbed a bucket and some more towels and cleaned up the best I could. I then spent about 30 minutes trying to call the maintenance company about the leak, but discovered that everyone else was doing the same thing (I got a busy signal every time I called). I finally got through and they promised to send someone soon. I’m still waiting 4 days later. Thank goodness it stopped raining.
Even though I make light of the rain here, it was pretty serious. I just read an article in the newspaper that claims 4 people died and over 75 were injured due to the rain. Whole roads and bridges were shut down for days and we are still trying to dry out. The picture above is of a construction site behind our neighborhood 3 sunny and hot days after the rain stopped. I wish I had thought to take a picture earlier to show you how crazy it really was. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t rain here again any time soon!

The Pros and Cons of Abu Dhabi

OK! I hear you all loud and clear! I'm sorry that it has been so long since I posted anything. I have a bit of writer's block lately (it might have something to do with the fact that I have 2-3 papers to write a week for school). Here's a little morsel for you all to chew on until I get a better inspiration.
Last week I was feeling homesick and sorry for myself and was wondering what the heck I was doing over here, when out of the blue, I had a fantastic day that turned my frown into a smile (I know..but you got to love a little corn every once in a while!). So, I decided that I needed to be a little more positive and made up this list. The first list are the things that I am really missing while I'm over here (cons) and the second list are things that I love about living here (pros).

Things I miss:

My family

My friends

My pets

Diet Dr Pepper

Fiber One Bars

Parking spaces (there will be a blog about this in the future!)

TV

Work

Getting everything I need at one store

Robitussin cough medicine (it’s illegal here)

A sand-free environment

Going camping

Decent produce

My garbage disposal

Things I like:

Eating dinner with my hubby most every night

Pedicures every 2 weeks

Having a pool

My feet never get cold here!!!!!

Not working (yes…it can be on both lists!)

Meeting incredible people from all over the world

Seeing my girls learn so much about different cultures

Being able to go back to school

Beautiful scenery

Getting tons of stamps in my passport

Great restaurants

New friends

Weekly date nights

Border Run Nightmare

I had to wait a little to write this particular post. One, I had to cool down a little and two, I didn’t have a whole lot of time with school and a bunch of other stuff going on here. But, now that I find it a little bit humorous, I thought I’d share a little story with you:
When you enter UAE, you get a 30 day visitor stamp in your passport. This stamp can get extended once for another 30 days, but after that, you either have to be official (have your residency visa) or you have to leave the country. Well, since Steve’s PRO (person responsible for getting the visa paperwork done) seems to be completely and utterly incompetent (I have found others who have received their visas in less than a week), we had to do a border run when our 60 days were up. We made plans to drive to Oman and do a “quick” border run.
Theoretically, we should be able to drive to Oman (about 1 ½ hours from here) go through the border and then turn around and go back into the UAE. This being done, we could have a fresh stamp in our passport that could then be extended to give us another 60 days.
Sounds simple right???
Well, it wouldn’t be a very interesting post if it were now, would it??
The girls were in summer camp at the time and instead of taking them out of their fun activities, we decided to wait until it was over (2pm) and leave after. I had also read somewhere that the prime time to go through the border is between 3 and 5 pm. Steve was also very busy at work and could use the time in the morning to get things done.
We had heard horror stories about things that could go wrong during a border crossing. It seems that the custom officials on both sides like to make up new rules and regulations as they see fit on a day to day basis. We had taken everyone’s input and prepared ourselves with as much documentation as we possibly could. And Steve had already done this once before (when he was here earlier this year). I had borrowed a portable DVD player from a friend and packed a small cooler full of snacks just in case (Thank Goodness!)
I picked the girls up and then we went and picked up Steve from work and we were on our way. The trip to Al Ain (oasis, border town in UAE) was uneventful and at sometimes beautiful. Once you get out of Abu Dhabi there are some wonderful sand dunes and scenery.
We stopped in Al Ain for a potty break and proceeded to the border station that someone had recently recommended as being pretty “hassle-free.” We got there and the official immediately rerouted us to another border station about a mile away. Why we were rerouted, we do not know. I guess it was the rule of the day (we knew several people who had crossed here the week before). I could feel Steve’s pressure go up a notch at this point in our journey (he was already in a bad mood because we had to do this in the first place). We turned around and went to this other border station.
When we got there, there was a long line (no waiting at the first place of course). When we got to the front of the line we were directed to park and go into the custom’s building. We were expecting this and dutifully parked and went to the building. Inside we had to fill out some forms and then they processed our paperwork. We were there for about 20 minutes. They gave us a “map” and sent us on our way.
At this point, I was feeling pretty good. I had heard horror stories of sitting in customs for hours before they would let you out of the country, but we were done in less than half an hour. We were in Oman, so all we had to do is get our official Omani stamp in our passport and then turn around right???
At about this time, I looked down at the “map” which they had given us. It looked like a confusing complex of circles and arrows with some Arabic, a few English words, and an occasional number. We weren’t sure if we had to walk or drive to the border station. We assumed that it was close by. Finally, through some charade-like communication with one of the officials, we learned that we actually had to get back in the car and drive to the station. We all piled back in the car and started off. Steve drove while I tried to interpret the “map.”
Traffic circles are commonplace here (at pretty much every intersection), so I was able to figure out that part of the map, and I assumed that the arrows were the direction that we had to go in. There were 5 circles on the map, so we thought, we’ll go through 5 intersections in the appropriate direction (according to the arrows) and we’ll get to the station.
We had gone through a few circles and I realized that one, I had lost track of what circle we were on (trying to navigate and pass out snacks and drinks while changing the DVD do not mix), and two, the circles were getting further apart. I assumed that Steve had been counting also, but he had lost track as well.
We realized we didn’t know where we were going, so we decided to backtrack and start over again. If you’ve ever been with Steve when he is lost, you’ll believe me when I tell you I could see the steam coming out of his ears at this point. Right about then, the fuel light went off in the truck. (The steam started coming out of his nose as well). I had seen a shell station and navigated us back to it, the only problem is that they only took cash and we had no Omani rials. So, we had to find an ATM. This took quite awhile driving around (and remember we don’t have much gas), but we finally found one. We crossed our fingers that this bank would actually give us money (a lot of banks won’t work with foreign Debit cards) and took about 10 minutes trying to figure out how much we would actually need (I had forgotten my calculator that day). Thankfully, the ATM cooperated with us and gave us the cash so that we could go back to the gas station ( I won’t even mention where the steam was coming from at this point).
We went back to the gas station and filled the tank and backtracked in the direction we hoped we had come from. Eventually we did find the border station and turned around and started counting circles. The girls were settled down with a movie at this point, so it was easier to keep track of where we were going. As I was looking at the “map” I saw something that said 35km. I also saw something that said 20km. I mentioned this to Steve and it dawned on us that our trip into Oman was going to be a lot longer than we expected.
We wound up driving 60 kilometers (about 36 miles) into the middle of Oman before we reached the Omani border station that we needed. Thankfully, I had bought a very nice map of the area the day before or we might still be wondering around Oman. It was still very disconcerting to keep going further and further into Oman (which is a desert that has the population of about 2). There was nothing around but a couple of stray camels and some occasional cars. The border station was smack dab in the middle of nowhere, but we did eventually find it.
I complain about the ride, but it actually was quite beautiful in a barren sort of way with cool rock formations and mountains in the background. And when we got out of the car at the station, it was quite nice temperature-wise. I actually got chill bumps when a breeze hit me and thought wow it’s nice and cool here (a look at the car thermometer told me it was 90F, but when you are used to 120F, it’s cooler!).
We spent about 45 minutes at the station waiting our turn and then waited for them to process our paperwork. The highlight of the whole Omani border station experience had to be the women’s room. The building itself looked fairly new and was very clean until you went to the women’s room. I have been to many disgusting restrooms in my time, but this one took the cake (of course both of the girls had to go pee). Caitlin was actually gagging and I wanted to. I don’t think that it had ever been cleaned (I’m talking dried feces on the walls). I quickly gathered the girls up and took them out to the car where I had luckily kept the port-a-pot and the girls relieved themselves there instead. I just sucked it up.
We turned around and drove the 60km back to the UAE and parked at their border station. There really is no parking and we just parked on the side of the busy road and went inside. Steve waited in line while I sat in the chairs and tried to occupy the girls who were bored and now tired because it was after their bedtime. Steve and I had our obligatory retinal scan and then he had to get back into line.
One thing that I have come to learn about the people here in this region of the world (and especially the Emirati men) is that they have a huge sense of entitlement (I’m sure there will be a post about this in the future). So, they tend to just butt in line and cut you off like you are invisible. This happened to Steve a couple times while he was waiting in line. (The steam was coming out of my ears at this time). He finally gets to the front and hands our passports to the attendant and Ashli comes up to me with a desperate look in her eye and tells me she has to poop. Talk about bad timing! I did a quick scan of the room and saw no facilities (and I was a little nervous about going into another border station restroom at this point) so I used hand signals to let Steve know where we were going and told him we would be right back.
I took the girls out to the car (that I mentioned previously was parked on a very busy road) and set up the port-a-pot once again. Not only did Ashli have to go number two, but so did Cate. They both took huge stinky ones in the back of the truck while massive semi-trucks were flying past us. Ahhh….the life I lead!
We finally finished inside and then we had to go through 4 more stations (while in the car thankfully) before we were allowed to go back into the UAE. Each station wanted some document or other and spent about 5-10 minutes of our time and then we were finally on our merry way again.
I was starving at this point (I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was 9pm) and really had to pee, but I didn’t want to have to stop any more. I just wanted to get home. The girls fell asleep in the 1 ½ hours that it took us to get back to our house (nine hours after we had left it) and we put them clothes and all in their beds as soon as we got there (and then sprinted to the nearest bathroom).
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I don’t know who originally said this, but this quote certainly holds true in this case. It was a long and very frustrating day for all of us, but we lived and I can now laugh about it a little. I learned a few things in the process. One, don’t ever take the port-a-pot out of your car when you have kids. Two, buy a portable DVD player and three, always pack more snacks than you think you might need (the girls ate everything!!!!). And in conclusion, if I don’t get my residency visa before the next 60 days are up, there better be a plane ticket in my hand to Cyprus or heads will roll!!!!

Dubai Mall Mania

I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things, but I went somewhere that took the cake this weekend. The girls and I went to Dubai for the day (Steve was on his death bed at home…Swine Flu anyone???). Dubai is a crazy place in of itself (there will definitely be more Dubai-themed posts to come), but the Mall of Dubai was insane. We walked around and ogled for about 5 hours and still did not see probably half of the place.
Where to start? I was in the biggest mall in the world and I didn’t buy a thing because I was so thunderstruck. As soon as I walked in, I looked up and literally became dizzy with the sheer size of the place. I picked up a brochure with a map and I kid you not it was about ¼ inch thick. You had to fold it out like a street map to figure out where you were going.
I have a really good sense of direction and I got lost in this mall! Just to name of few amenities…….. an olympic-sized ice skating rink, a huge aquarium (in which 33,000 animals reside), 12,000 stores, and a 22 screen movie theatre. My feet hurt just thinking about it!
Many people call Dubai the Las Vegas of the Middle East and I can now see why. Each section of the mall had a different theme and many of them (especially the gold souk) have décor very reminiscent of some of the larger casinos in Vegas.
People had warned me about this mall (and Dubai in general), but there’s really no way to prepare oneself for the decadence of this place. I walked around with my mouth hanging open most of the day and I took over 200 pictures (ok…maybe that’s not such a big deal for me). The girls were astounded as well. There are two huge 4 story tall water fountains in one area of the mall. I had to drag them away from it and the playland (I’ll write another post about the Emirates and their mall playlands at a later date).
To top it all off, the mall is in the shadow of the tallest building in the world. You walk outside one of the two food courts and there is a beautiful Burg (tallest building in the world) observation area. Adjacent to this area is a large man-made lake that has a fountain show to rival the Bellagio in Vegas.
Wow is all I can say in conclusion. The girls and I were exhausted, but had a fantastic time. We can’t wait to go back to find what we missed the first time. AND…we still have yet to go to the Mall of the Emirates (think indoor ski slope).

www.thedubaimall.com

Dust, dust, and more dust.

Prior to moving here, when I thought of about a sand/dust storm, I pictured something entirely different. (Picture a scene out the movies where a wall of sand or dirt is coming towards you at an impossibly high rate of speed and you are running away from it.) That is really not what it’s like at all and I can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved. When these storms come it’s more like a heavy fog (only it’s not moisture in the air, its sand and dirt). Usually there is a strong breeze here, but on days when there is a storm it is very still. It looks cloudy and foggy, but if you look closely, it’s not clouds at all. It’s not a pleasant experience to be outside on these days. Within seconds of coming outside, you feel like you’ve been eating out of the sandbox again (come on…you all know you’ve done it in the past!) and every available surface is covered in dust. I actually got mad at the pool guys for doing such a lousy job of cleaning the pool until someone explained the whole thing to me (they come and clean and the bottom is covered in sand in minutes). Also with my lack of experience in this area, I assumed that they were a quick phenomenon, but they actually last several days (again…not pleasant).
The two pictures that I have included are taken from the same place (our roof). The first is on a normal day here in Abu Dhabi and the second is during a dust storm.

Metric Mania

Sorry that it has been awhile. It’s not that I haven’t had inspiration….there’s plenty of that here, but time has gotten away from me lately.
I have lived overseas before, so this topic comes as somewhat of a surprise to me. I was prepared to have a car that registers in Kilometers per hour and speed signs that do the same, but I don’t remember the metric system invading my life as much as it has this time around.
I remember cooking quite a bit in Japan, but this time my kitchen has become a foreign land in itself. First, my oven is in Celsius. This is fine if I am cooking something that has directions in the metric system. Some of the things I have bought (chicken nuggets, frozen pizzas) have the correct Celsius temperature to prepare them in. However, the wide majority of the foods I have purchased here have Fahrenheit temperatures (as well as any recipe I have ever followed in my life). Now why do you suppose in a country that is totally converted to the metric system, would they sell items without converting them? All items sold in the grocery stores have Arabic directions applied to them before they are sold…why not add Celsius temps as well???? I guess the good side to this is that I can now convert C to F and vice versa like a champ! And I didn’t even mention that my washer is in Celsius also. That’s a whole other story!
Another side of the metric system in the kitchen is measuring ingredients to add to things. For example, I was making some rice the other day and the instructions told me to add 425ml of hot water. 425ml?????? It’s a good thing that I am a nurse and I am familiar with milliliters, but do I have a measuring cup which measures in them? NOT! (Well, I do now) I also invested in a calculator to keep in one of my kitchen drawers.
Even buying the food at the grocery store becomes a complicated affair. Everything is sold per kilogram. As if it weren’t already complicated enough (I have to calculate in my head the conversion from Dirham to Dollars), but then I also have to figure out how much I want. For example: If I want to buy some ground beef, and the sign says AED 32 per Kilo, what exactly does that mean? Well, 32 Dirham (AED 32) is about $9. Then you have to convert from Kilograms to pounds (at least I do to figure out how much I want). Each Kilo is 2.2 pounds, so it turns out that a pound of ground beef is about $4. Whew! Did anyone follow that? Steve wonders why it takes me so long to go shopping around here! I now keep a little calculator in my purse.
I’ll summarize by saying that it has definitely been a learning process or a relearning process (I vaguely remember studying this in school at some point). Man…I wish I had paid more attention in math!

To Bidet Or Not To Bidet

Thought I would write about stuff that the girls are fascinated with here in Abu Dhabi. I’ll start with Ashli. It doesn’t surprise me, and it shouldn’t surprise any of those who know and love Ashli, that she is totally fascinated with the bathrooms here.
All bathrooms have either a bidet or a nozzle ( I don’t know the correct term yet). The nozzle has a long hose attached to it and you can use it the same way as a bidet to squirt clean water on areas that need to be cleaned after using the toilet. Please don’t make me explain further!!!!
Because all the bathrooms have either one of these options, they rarely have toilet paper. This is a nightmare for Ashli. Even as a tiny baby, she would have a hissy-fit if her bottom was the slightest bit damp. Luckily, a friend for-warned me of this and I stocked up on mini packs of tissue that I carry with me everywhere. She still gets all flustered when she realizes that there is no paper.
We have a bidet in one of the bathrooms in our hotel suite. Ashli insists that it is a bathtub for babies and no matter how often I tell her otherwise, she stands firm. I feel sorry for her future children. LOL!!!
Now the nozzle is a great source of amusement for her. Fortunately she hasn’t figured out that her own bathroom (in our future house) has its own nozzle. (We REALLY need to figure out how to turn it off). But, she did find and experiment with the one in the second bathroom in our suite. I was in the other room when I heard running water on the floor of the bathroom. I went in and found Ashli on the toilet with a stunned look on her face and water all over the floor in front of her. I asked her what happened and she recovered quickly. “I don’t know” was all I got. I asked how all the water got on the floor and she shrugged and said, “Somebody must have touched that thing.” The “thing” was the nozzle that I had given her strict instructions not to touch.
So far she has only touched it a few more times (I’m not looking forward to her being alone in her room with one) and I’m hoping that there are no dirty babies around her while we are still in the hotel!