December 7, 2009

Junk Mail -- Any Mail Will Do

I've been looking fairly compulsively at my mailbox at work lately. And I know this is silly, because who would send me mail?

But it's not entirely , because there is no national postal system here, in the way that people in most other developed countries think of it. Yes, you can send mail to and from the UAE, but where it ends up ... depends on how you address it. Because there is no street address system here.

For example, I live in the Sahara Residence 9 on Electra St. If you send mail to me at that address, there's a good chance I would get it. And my laundry, Atlas Cleaners, lists its address as: Behind the Green House Building on Najda. If you don't know where the Green House Building is, you're out of luck. (And behind is rather relative -- there is a two-sided alley "behind" the Green House Building)

My company has a PO Box for mail, and so everyone has everything sent to that address. And while the system seems odd to me, it also seems to work. I actually received mail addressed to Leah and Paul, The National, Abu Dhabi, UAE.

And that was from my bank.

I don't have an address for our new apartment. The broad description on the contract is Street 19, Flat No. 11, Al Muroor. When I go to sign up for Internet service, I will also tell them the sector and plot number -- in the hopes they will find me.

There are rumors that a new mail system is forthcoming. But it won't be based on addresses, it will be be based on GPS coordinates. That should be interesting; one wrong number and your mail ends up in Namibia.

This is not to suggest, either, that the mail works well going out. Stamps seem available only at the post office, and I have seen just one of those. A colleague tells me they are available at certain hotels as well -- but not mine. There also are very few post boxes. I tried to mail a letter from work, but was told there was no option for that. Which is funny, because you would think if mail comes in, at some point it goes out. But nevermind.

We discovered when we finally were able to get a stamp and mail a letter that it takes three weeks to get the U.S.

Maybe they use carrier falcons.

(And for those of you who would like to send us real, actual mail, this is how best to find us: The National/Abu Dhabi Media Company/PO Box 111434/ Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates)

November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving, Part II

I did it! And it was awesome!!

I actually pulled off a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings (except pumpkin pie -- my fave) for six people.

And it was all thanks to my Mom's super suggestions and advice, and Paul's invaluable help. I just don't get how all you Thanksgiving makers make all those dishes simultaneously. I ran out of hands a few times. Paul jumped in to make the mashed potatoes while I finished up the gravy, green beans and stuffing (and entertained and early-arriving guest).

Phew.

One bottle of Champagne, four bottles of red wine, one 12-pound turkey, seven potatoes .... you get the drift ... and one meal with five contented companions. We were five Yanks and a Brit, and we talked some shop -- the one thing we all have in common -- and a little about our adopted country and what the holiday was about. But it was just nice to do a dinner in a home. A dinner party. A special dinner party.

You don't really need the details though, as you're all about to embark on your own. So as I wish you all the best for a wonderful holiday, I will leave you with this anecdote.

I'm cooking the turkey, we're about halfway into the time. I hear a switch click and about five minutes later realize that not only was my water not boiling, but the turkey had stopped bubbling.

I thought this was weird. Who would guess that you could turn off the main gas line from outside the kitchen. In fact, from a switch that is (and was) right next to the door to the bathroom. Which has no light switch inside.

Well, you can.

I finally made the connection between the switch and the fact the oven turned off -- and then had a bear of a time (and a bit of a panic attack) trying to get the oven back on. I was only halfway through cooking!! What would I do with a half-cooked turkey??

Our hostess, who might have known what to do (but really, I don't think so), was sound asleep. I wasn't about to wake her. We had already invaded her apartment to make the dinner.

Now this wasn't the first issue with the oven. The night before, on the advice of my mother, I tested the oven to see if cooking times were accurate, if it had any weirdness, and it did. In fact, the night before I was planning to make a cake to test the oven. When I set the oven, it never got hot. Again, a dilemma. And again, my hostess was not available.

It turns out with this particular oven, a well-regarded brand (Siemens), you must leave the oven door open for three minutes so that the pilot light can catch properly. Never heard that one before. I eventually figured it out, the cake was fine (it cooked on the fast side), and I had an idea of how the oven was running.

So with the turkey, I made sure to leave the door open at the start. But now, I had no gas. The switch was on again, but that made no difference. Finally, we found the door to the gas panel, and there were some convoluted directions. It seems that we could restart the gas by turning various nozzles and switches and get it started again. The diagram explaining all this bore no resemblance to what we actually did.

After a 15-minute delay, we managed to turn the oven back on. Phew.

That was the only major mishap (OK, Paul, who was taking the turkey out of the oven -- which was by now two inches deep in boiling turkey juice -- almost dropped it when the oven rack slipped and he had only tea towels to hold on to the roasting pan. And I dropped the leftover cake on its head on my way home.)

But considering I had a handful of pots and utensils not quite meant to do what we needed them to do (too small, too big, too shallow, too deep) the whole thing turned better than I could have hoped.

Hurrah!!

(check this link in the next day or so to see photos)

November 24, 2009

Thanksgiving, Part I

As many of you may have read on Paul's blog, I decided to make a Thanksgiving dinner for a handful of people.

(We're doing it on Wednesday, because we're both off that day. When you do Thanksgiving a. abroad and b. in the newspaper business, you have it as close to the day as you can with the most people available.)

For most of you, this is not terribly remarkable. But it's my first turkey. And Thanksgiving is absolutely my most favorite holiday. I find it sad that I have missed Thanksgiving at home oh, about 9 of the last 12 years. My friends in Paris put together amazing Thanksgiving dinners, and I think my all-time favorite was the rotisserie turkey we got one year. But ultimately, I like my Mom's best. Always have, always will.

And so, in a bit of a panic, I called her the other day to let her know the plan. She was very calm and encouraging. I really appreciated that last part. I was pretty pleased that we managed to find all the necessary things for the meal, but frankly, I've always stuck to the cranberry relish and pumpkin pie as my contributions. I don't know the first thing about turkey, gravy or stuffing.

After studying recipes on the web and talking to my mom (her advice: follow the directions on the turkey, don't forget to clean out the packages that are inside and don't stuff the turkey your first time) I think I can do it.

Right now, I've just finished prepping the gravy and it smells so good! It makes me really enthusiastic for the rest of the meal.

I'll leave that on the stove for a few hours, and afterward, I'm heading to a friend's house to test her oven. It's beautiful and brand new, but I don't think she's used it for anything other than toast. So i'm going to bake a chocolate cake (couldn't find brownie mix) just to make sure it's all good.

I'm so excited!!

November 20, 2009

I Love to Say Vindaloo

I've been making my way through the menu at the Indian restaurant across the street.

Paul and I share one night off, and we go out. We've been to Nihal three times so far, and are planning to go until we get tired of it or until we move, whichever comes first.

So far, for main courses, I've stuck to the lamb: Masala, Korma, Vindaloo, Roganjosh. (And now you're thinking well, that's four and she's only been three times. Paul got lamb once, too!)

I like the vindaloo quite a bit and it has potatoes in it. The rojanjosh has thinner sauce, but better quality lamb. The Korma is more of a traditional curry (or what I think of when I think of curry). I swear there was coconut milk in it, but all the recipes I've seen say the meat is marinated in yogurt and that's what makes it so creamy. In any case, the meat in the Korma was of a really low quality. It was tasty, but gristly and chewy. I don't know if that was unusual, or if the different sauces are designed to mask the qualities of the meat.

The restaurant also serves Chinese food, and what they call Continental food. I'd like to try the Chinese -- the Indians here have a decent reputation for Chinese -- but not at the expense of my once-weekly Indian. And Continental, it turns out, just means fish and chips.

Paul has mostly stuck to chicken. Last time he got the Chicken Tikka. He likes curry, and Indian food, almost as much as I do. But he's allergic to something in the curry, so ordering for him is tricky. By process of elimination, we think he is allergic to cayenne pepper. So if he asks for his curry not spicy, he doesn't usually have a problem (or hasn't so far).

We've also had the lentil soup, the spinach soup, the vegetable samosas and naan. Oh, how I love naan. And we haven't even tried the stuffed naan yet. We always end up with too much food, but that's fine by me: It mealeftovers for work the next day. I'm still looking for a different appetizer. The samosas are made with a biscuit-like crust, and are pretty heavy (considering that inside the biscuit is yellow lentils and maybe peas?) Dinner for two of us is never more than $20, and it's only that expensive because we're trying to sample different things.

But my absolute favorite part of the meal is the papadam. Oh how I love papadam! They are thin, crisp wafers/bread made of lentil flour. I think they should sell them in the store or a bakery or somewhere. I'm pretty sure they're fried, so that rules out making them at home. (Speaking of Indian food at home: Have you all tried the Indian Roti that Costco sells? Those are easy to make at home and so yummy!)

I think Trader Joe's -- or maybe it was the Monoprix in France -- had mini papadams in the chips aisle. But they were flavored, and they didn't really taste like real papadam. I think they have a pretty short shelf life, like they get soggy if they aren't eaten right away.

So I haven't yet figured out how to get more papadam more frequently. On my way into work, I see a shop sign that suggests the shop sells papapdam, but the store is always shuttered.

As to when I'll get tired of Indian food? I'm pretty sure we'll move first.

November 16, 2009

Looking for a Place to Call Home

House hunting is something I was actually looking forward to. It's always a treat, I think, to see how other societies live. And the chance to stock another household -- especially with inexpensive furnishings -- was appealing to me. I would get to nest all over again.

I had heard that the housing market in Abu Dhabi was tight and that affordable places were practically non-existent. Having had a nightmare of a search in Hong Kong, I was expecting this. What I didn't expect was the difficulty in actually seeing places here in Abu Dhabi.

There are three ways to find an apartment, from what I can tell: word of mouth, online listings or an agent. But the agent doesn't work quite the way you'd expect. An agent will only show you properties he (or she) represents. So if I see a place online that looks appealing, I have to contact the particular agency that handles it. And then the problems start. Bait and switch is definitely an issue here. It seems that whatever apartment you see an ad for has just been rented. But there's another one that's almost as good ...

Also, I'm not comfortable in this society -- whether I have reason to be or not -- going to viewings alone with a man. This means I have to drag Paul along, whereas in the US or even France I would simply find a place I liked and then bring him in at the end. Much easier.

I'm not sure either of us has mentioned this yet, but there are no proper addresses here in Abu Dhabi. You identify where you live by the closest known landmark. It's not unusual for someone to give you party directions that read like this: Walk behind the White Furniture building until you see a pile of dirt. Go around the dirt to a pathway on the left. Cross the street and go over the fence. The house you want is on your right.

So, if I find a place online that I like, I have to find it. This can't be done by taxi, really. I have to get the owner or the agent to pick me up and take me to the apartment. Again, a very specific commitment that both of us must make.

I have seen eight apartments. All but one were in villas and several were of new construction. The construction standards here appear shoddy. I think because there is a lot of pressure to get things up., the finishing touches are often missing. Frankly, it feels like the fancy vacation homes in Mexico. Almost complete but not quite. (Nice ironwork on the stairways, but the steps aren't edged properly, for example).

The first two places were spacious. They had really high ceilings and roomy rooms. But they were too far away, just off Abu Dhabi island in a place called Between Two Bridges. These places would require a car. They were also a little pricey. Not by local standards but by my budget standards. (We are here, after all, to try to save a little money.)

(An aside: apartments are paid for by the year. Yes. One check. For the whole year. Fortunately, the company will take the apartment and then take the rent out of our paychecks. Phew. Imagine trying to come up with $25K in advance??)

Next we saw an apartment owned by the company. We had hoped to get one of these, but the only one(s) available were two bedrooms and too expensive. I noticed when we looked at that apartment that one of the bedrooms had a lock on it. That's because people here tend to share apartments. Sometimes whole villas. One of the options we (briefly) considered was renting a room in a villa with a colleague. He is here and his wife is back in England. The other tenant was moving to Dubai. I never had much luck with roommates when I was younger. I'm having trouble imagining it at this stage of my life. But it's quite common here -- and was moreso, when apartments were scarce.

We heard a tale the other night of four employees -- photographers, perhaps? -- who had a four-bedroom villa with a small building in the back. They made an arrangement with a Filipina woman to stay there for free, and in return she cooks for them. Sounds too much like a fraternity house.

But I digress.

The upside of the company apartment was its proximity -- 10 minute walk -- to the office. The downside was its location in a fairly undeveloped neighborhood filled with furniture makers and dirt roads. And the price.

So I went back online and started to make more inquiries. I found a place that, until today, had been a front-runner. It was offered by the landlord (thus no agents fee) and it was within walking distance (100 meters or so) of the office. It was in a nice neighborhood and had fancy cars in the garage, so probably the neighbors were fine. So what, you ask, was wrong with it? Well, it was billed as furnished. This translated into "whatever the last tenant left behind." It was all decorated. Each room had walls painted in brilliant colors: hot pink, turqoise and canary yellow. But still, it was really close to work.

The next place we saw was a bait-and-switch. It turns out the apartment that was advertised was still occupied, but we didn't know that until we arrived. It was in a great residential neighborhood, a good start. So the landlord took us up three flights of stairs to the top of the villa. It was a nearly-new apartment, with tall ceilings and big rooms. It also had a great wraparound rooftop terrace. And a price tag 40,000 dirhams (nearly $11,000) higher than the apartment that was advertised.
Too bad for us. By the time we saw the originally advertised place, we'd been ruined by the lovely spacious one.

It didn't help that the other one was ground floor, with low ceilings, and bad carpet and a hole-in-the-wall kitchen. The landlord said it would all be cleaned up, and that he'd pull out the carpet (which covered granite floors). But I don't think so.

On to another set of apartments and another agent. Another aside here -- we have had dealings with agents and landlords from Saudi Arabia, Jordan, India and Syria. Sort of sums up the UAE.
The last two apartments: The first was in a nice neighborhood, and very close to a good mall (good mall = good grocery store). It also was close enough to a big road that taxis wouldn't be a problem. The apartment was relatively new, but badly built. It was spacious, on the second floor of a villa, and had big windows. We liked it well enough. Certainly more than anything else we'd seen.

Then, on to the next one. Here's where there's a little more trickiness. I thought we were going to see three apartments, but after seeing the second one, it turns out the third one -- the one I had originally expressed interest in -- was rented. Like magic. Things like that seem to happen here.

But here we are at the last apartment, and it may truly be the last one. We liked it. It's pretty close to work, although not really walking distance unless the weather is really comfortable. It's very tiny, but is indeed a one-bedroom. The kitchen is small -- most of the kitchens here are not very impressive -- and is part of the living room. But the place is furnished, and has wardrobes and the furniture isn't awful and if I want new furniture, the landlord will take away the old. And there was a washing machine! And a little patio out front! So this is where we stand.

Do we take the tiny but cute place? The price is right, and so is the location. But is there a better place out there?

We don't have to move for another month, but we also don't want to get caught short. And Paul is loathe to be dragged to anymore places once he's found one he finds acceptable. Having looked at all the online ads, I know that there aren't a lot of options in the price range we're looking at. I know there are a lot of really awful places out there, and we've been pretty lucky so far.

I'm used to knowing instantly when I've found the right apartment or home, and that was not the case today. But it came close.

We'll post pictures when we finally make a decision.

November 13, 2009

Abu Dhabi Photos

Finally got around to taking -- and posting -- some photos.

As you'll find out, there's not a whole lot to see here. But maybe this will give you a little taste.

November 12, 2009

The Feeling of Fall in the Air

The weather has cooled here, finally breaking 90 degrees. It's all the nicer because the humidity right now is under 50 percent and there's a breeze. It's actually pleasant.
As much as I hated going out when I first arrived, I now want to spend as much time outside as possible. I went to the beach on Tuesday, and it was just a really nice day. The beach, unfortunately, isn't open yet; it's still under construction. People nearby told me it would open Nov. 16, so I'm looking forward to that. Instead, I sat on a really nice outdoor deck and had some ice cream and read my book. I was a little overdressed for the beach. You can't very well stand on the street in shorts and a tank top and hail a cab. So i had on linen pants and a tank and a button down shirt covering it, and packed beach clothes in a tote.
But it's one thing to sit on the ladies and family beach in a tank top, and another to do so on a deck. So there I sat, all bundled up.
This isn't unusual for me.
I wear long sleeves almost every day, and often have two shirts on for better coverage, so I've been looking forward to the cooling trend. As hot as I feel when I'm outside, I try to look at the women in full abayas -- black ones -- and take comfort that I'm not as covered up as they are.
We have a dress code of sorts at work. The idea is to dress modestly, so as not to offend Muslim sensibilities. That means sleeves to the elbow for women and skirts below the knees. Because the office is so cold, I just go ahead with the long sleeves and wear pants. After a while I layer on sweaters and scarfs as needed. What I'd really like on weekends -- when it's particularly cold in the office -- is my Ugg boots. But I can't imagine wearing them on the street.
People say it will be comfortable like this until March, at least.
That would be amazing.