Something to Read

I just added a new blog to my blog roll -- A Canadian in Abu Dhabi. It's written by a colleague and she has some interesting viewpoints about life here in the desert.

And her "Overheard in the Newsroom" quotes are always funny. I regret (am proud?) to say that occasionally some of them are mine.

Oh, and if you haven't checked out A Road Well-Traveled, you should. That's written by a friend and former colleague who is now based in Kabul. Her perspectives are always fascinating.

Enjoy

Minutiae

Everyone says I don't blog enough and I always say it's because I don't do anything blog worthy. The truth is, on my day off I usually go to the grocery store and occasionally will go out. End of story.

But from time to time, I get ambitious. This isn't really blogworthy, either, but hey, you asked for it.

My day was planned out: Benjamin, my taxi driver, would pick me up at 11, I would go to get my driver's license, I would head out to the mall because the mobile mammogram people were there (yes, TMI but it's relevant), I would get new glasses because I can't read the tiny print anymore and I'd be back in time for a dinner date with Paul. Perfect.

Then the kinks came into play. Benjamin, who can usually wait for me, had to be somewhere so he just dropped me off. It turns out I didn't have all the documents for my driver's license (see previous post) and so I had to go out in the street to find a cab, which took a while, then go to my office to get the papers and go back to the license office. That killed a good hour.

Got the license (And you may be wondering why I have a driver's license when I have no intention of driving. It's because in my ever-optimistic fantasy life I have great hopes that I will someday live in France again and they have a reciprocal agreement with the UAE to exchange licenses; California does not. I am totally serious about this).

Then went out to find a cab, again, to take me to the mall. I'd been meaning to get the mammogram taken care of -- as with all things -- and since it's International Women's Day, there was a special mobile mammogram truck at the mall offering free mammograms to women over 40. Sadly, I qualified.

When I get there, though, I find out they aren't open until 3pm. I'm not sure if they were open and I didn't get there in time, because of all the screw-ups of the morning, or if they were only open from 3 pm onward. It doesn't matter, though, because it's 12:45.

I'm trying to figure out how I can kill two plus hours. It's not a very good mall. I decide I'll get an eye test -- which I'd been meaning to do (do you sense a pattern here?) and get new glasses. They have three optical stores there and they all suck. Designer names are important here, so most of the stores carry designer frames. But those are all really expensive -- like $270 -- and I'm used to Costco prices. My insurance will only cover $136 of anything I decide to do, including the exam and/or the lenses. It would be different if I had found anything I liked, but I didn't. What appears to be in style are frame-less glasses. With my prescription that doesn't usually work so well. And have I mentioned it's hard to see how your glasses look when you aren't wearing your glasses? Exactly.

So I give up this pursuit and decide to go home. Thwarted in all my good intentions. I call Paul and he suggests a movie. I hadn't thought of that. Turns out a movie I'm actually interested in seeing starts in 20 minutes, and I figure I can wait that long.

It turned out to be a great idea. I love going to the movies when the theaters are empty. There were 141 seats in this theater and three people. It's just quiet and relaxing and you get caught up in the film and the darkness ... It was just really good for me. Totally calmed me down.

Afterward, the mobile mammogram thing was open, got that done and voila -- some things actually done and accomplished on a day off.

Next: Getting glasses.

Getting Legal

Last week I got my alcohol license renewed. Like most things around here, the actual doing is easy, it's the prepping that takes some work.

Today, I got my driver's license. The Abu Dhabi police run a super-efficient "DMV" type place. You make one stop, they take your papers, you get a number, they call you, bam -- license done.

But again, it's all in the prepping. To get a license, you need a copy of your passport (easy) and residence visa (easy). These are required for just about everything, so I have copies around. You need you Emirates ID or proof that you applied. You need a letter from your employer saying they do not object to your having a driver's license. You need a mug shot. Got one. So far, these are the same things I needed for the liquor license.

But you need a copy of your US license translated into Arabic. That's what the ubiquitous typing shops around town do. They translate documents from whatever language into Arabic for various legal documents.

See, you knew there was a catch.

That is usually not a big deal. There are three across the road from my office. Only one was willing to do the translation. I have no idea why. It usually takes a couple of hours, and this took a couple of days because of the Prophet's birthday and some other inexplicable (as in not explained to me) reason. So, finally got that.

Now, it was a matter of taking the time to go. The "DMV" is nearby, unlike the alcohol license center at a police station halfway to the airport. They're open from 7 am to 9 pm. I decided to just do it today, since I had a rare weekday off.

I gathered all my documents. I had been keeping them in one place so I wouldn't forget anything. I got there, a woman asked me for a few things that Paul hadn't mentioned, like a mug shot. Then she sent me to wait for an eye exam. (Which the doctor fudged -- I didn't pass it) He never mentioned that, either. I thought it was a bit odd, but if nothing else, bureaucracy here is never consistent.

After the eye exam I got sent to the license window, they called my number right away and I was on my way.

Except I forgot the translation of my license. The one key piece of information I had to have. The woman at the front desk assumed I was renewing an existing license, since I didn't have that paper, and so never said anything.

But where were the documents? They should have been with the others. I called Paul, he looked in the only two places I would put them and they weren't there. Which means I had left them at work. I called a colleague, she looked in my desk and of course, that's where they were. I had picked them up during a shift, stuck them there without thinking and promptly forgot about them.

So, I went back outside to find a taxi that took me to the office to get the paperwork and then take me back to the license place. The woman at the reception sort of smirked at me when I came back, this time waving the translation. She gave me a number, it was immediately called, I paid my fees (which, by the way, are less than the fee for the alcohol license, which is good for just one year), and I had my license in hand within five minutes. It's good for 10 years, so I won't be doing that ever again.

See, just like I said -- easy as pie.

So It's Getting a Little Interesting Around Here

You might have noticed there's been a political shift in the Middle East.

And I have to tell you, it's pretty fascinating having ring-side seats. When the troubles started in Tunisia, it seemed like just another scuffle in North Africa. But after a few days, things really started to happen and everyone took notice.

When the protests came to Egypt, I was transfixed. I could not get enough news fast enough. I made the leap into the 21st century, signing up for Twitter just so I could have minute-to-minute (or second-to-second) access to news. I never really got Twitter before, but for something like this -- wow.

We cynical journalists began a pool to see when Mubarak would step down. A week passed with no winners and we figured the protesters would finally go home. But they didn't. This was so important to them, something we all take for granted, and they were determined. Freedom as the US knows it doesn't exist in the Middle East, and it hasn't for a long time. Imagine any one of our last six presidents with a 30-plus year term. It wasn't just students, or trouble-makers, or intellectuals. It was Egyptians, and that was something to see.

A friend of mine who lives in Kabul was inexplicably drawn to Cairo at this moment. She had to see the revolution. So she packed a small bag, made some contacts and went. It was her misfortune that after nearly a week there, Mubarak stepped down the following day.

After Egypt, there was talk of a domino effect. Who would be next? Would it come to the Gulf? Just in case, the King of Bahrain offered payments of $2,500 to each citizen. Surely that would make folks think twice about protesting.

Bahrain, like the UAE, is known for being pretty stable. They have a quasi-legislature with representatives from the minority Shia population. But Egypt gave people ideas. Surely if a peaceful protest worked in powder keg countries like Egypt and Tunisia, it would work in Bahrain. Until the police fired on their own people.

Libya was next. The chaos has been coming fast and furious, and I still can't get enough information. Because Libya is a totalitarian government, there was no foreign press in the country when their protests started. Their protests, too, started out peacefully, until their insane leader decided that bombing his own people was a good idea.

Libyans who were able to communicate with the outside world begged for attention. They wanted to know why nobody was covering their plight. Meanwhile, journalists were desperate to get visas to cross the border. A CNN journalist was the first to get into the country. I don't believe he made the crossing legally.

Libya has rather put a whole new face on things, hiring mercenaries to kill its own people. That, I think, is what helped save Egypt -- it was a conscript army that would not fire on its own people.

But the Gaddafi family is certifiable. I get that the father is a nutcase. But the son ought to know better, no? (My prediction --Gaddafi the elder dies, at the hands of a former loyalist, and Gaddafi the younger ends up being tried for war crimes)

Shortly after the incidents in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia essentially paid off its populace, too. But there are rumblings on the blogosphere that it is too late. There is supposed to be a Facebook-organized protest in March. I don't think anyone thinks Saudi protests will be peaceful.

In the UAE, several influential sheikhs made a tour of the poorer Northern Emirates. It was time, they said, to meet with the people. I suppose one could draw that conclusion.

And now Oman. Considered the most stable of all the Gulf countries, protests there are entering their third day. We are about 100 miles from the border of Oman, and the protests are in a port city away from Muscat. But Oman is not a large country. It is about the size of North Carolina. Or the size of Yemen (which is having its own problems and is also a neighbor of ours)

Omanis want jobs. A third of their population is expatriate workers, but Oman is not a rich country. People there are not content to spend time sitting around, and their educated populace is frustrated. I do not know if Omanis would do the jobs that expatriates do. But I do know they drive taxis, something you would be unlikely to see in any other Gulf country.

All of this is a long way of saying yeah, we're watching. We're OK. We're not particularly worried, but we're certainly paying attention (as is the government).

I told Paul the other day that this was the most exciting thing I had witnessed in my life. He was incredulous -- What about the Berlin Wall and all of Eastern Europe?
And maybe this isn't as momentous. But I was 25 and living in California. I had never been to Europe. I worked in a Sports section. It just wasn't relevant to my life.

But this -- I feel like I'm in the middle of history. I don't know how it will turn out. As Paul says, these things aren't fast. It takes time to see if these countries will be able to pull it off. For those who aren't plagued by protests, I think they will make more concessions to their populations. Maybe not great ones, but each step matters.

Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times tweeted: If democracy is OK for the US and Israel, why isn't it OK for the Middle East. It's an excellent question.

I worry that the American media is portraying this as a Muslim uprising. In fact, there has been very little religion involved in this, aside from in Bahrain, where the Sunni minority rules the Shia majority. (And despite claims to the contrary by Gaddafi's son) Sure, religion is a part of life here. But that's not what is driving the protests. It is the freedom of movement, from one Arab country to another. The option for a better life. For less corruption. For more jobs.

And this, my first post in over a month, is my long-winded and rambling way of saying don't worry about us ... we're watching from afar, and taking nothing for granted. And meanwhile, I'm glued to the internet, watching history being made.

Getting Things Done

I had a mid-week day off, something rare of late.

Everyone wants to have weekends off, but it's so hard to accomplish anything. Shops are either closed most of Friday or they're packed with other people who have weekends off. So Tuesday was the day to get things done.

I had grand plans: Go to the place that sold me the ESPN card and get it to actually work. Shop for groceries. Get the caretaker to bring in a plumber and fix the sink. Get out of the way of the housekeeper. Get a "free" blow-out at the hair-dresser (some special offer for January) Get a pedicure. Go out with girlfriends. It was all very carefully choreographed to meet certain times and appointments.

And then it all went to hell.

I got back from the TV guy and not only was it not "fixed" I had fewer channels than when they started. I called him, he said he'd come by at 1. That was when I scheduled the pedicure. Phone call to the salon to cancel.

Then I find the caretaker, and tell him I need the sink fixed. He says the plumber will come around 2 or 3. So I call and move the hair appointment to 4. I figure maybe I can get a pedicure after, if they have any openings.

The TV guy, who comes by on his lunch hour, actually shows up and the caretaker arrives at the same time. They chat a little in Arabic. I wonder what it's about. I think it has to do with the satellite on the roof judging from the gestures, but nobody fills me in.

I really want the plumbing job to be finished by 3, because he's making huge mess and the housekeeper comes at 3. I'd like him to be out of her way. And then I can get out of her way, I hope, and fill my afternoon with pampering, and my evening with fun.

But the way things have gone, I'm not making any hard and fast plans.

Paging Nick Flier

There is a reason I have had, essentially, one hairdresser since 1986.

In all that time, I have only been unhappy (and by unhappy I mean mildly annoyed but I got over it) with Nick's results once. And this is the same hairdresser who convinced me to cut my hair short by cutting a chunk of my hair short.

He took care of me through all lengths and styles, and was the first one to color my hair. It came out beautifully. I like to call it magazine hair. Even when I lived in Paris, I managed to get home twice a year to have Nick do his magic and then just muddle through in-between.

But if it were just a matter of finding someone to cut my hair, it would be no big deal. Hair grows back and I don't get too agitated about it. But as I am, ahem, aging a bit, I'm in need of a good colorist these days.

Make that desperate.

This summer I was made an unintentional blonde -- a Lebanese thing, I think. A lot of Lebanese women here end up blonde, it's like a thing or something. I was going for highlights, I thought. I know blonde covers the gray, but I didn't need that much coverage!

When I went to Paris in October, I had my Australian hairdresser there fix it. She did my hair for my wedding and is a rock star. She put on a color that covered the blonde and all was good.

And when it was time for a touch-up, I thought I had a fail-safe system. I would take the instructions from the Paris hairdresser and give them to the woman here.

How hard would that be? It's just paint by the numbers at this point.

Harder than I thought, obviously. I came home with nearly black hair. You know when the managing editor of your newspaper walks by you as you walk in with a new haircut and says "Hmmmmm, interesting" that you're in trouble. I can't say nobody noticed. Everybody noticed.

I hated it. I hated it every day for the last month plus and finally I couldn't stand it anymore and decided to do something about it.

I asked a few people for recommendations and came up with Waleed. I have seen Waleed's work (although I should mention the last place had been recommended as well, but not for color). The last place was frequented by demanding Emirati women. Maybe they don't go for color?

Waleed works in a fancy Western-style salon in a fancy Western neighborhood I didn't even know existed.

In order to fix the problem, first he had to destroy it. He stripped out all the color in my hair, and then re-colored it. That can't have been good for it. But it's shiny and smooth and, essentially, my normal color. No highlights. No blonde. Just a chestnut brown with a little auburn in it as the sun hits it.

It cost a bundle, even by Western standards. All I can say is I sure miss Nick.

Love, Peace and Joy

This greeting card customized with Smilebox