And so the adventure begins.
We arrived after 24 hours of traveling and the first thing we did was go out for a drink. About par for the course, I'd say. A friend picked us up at the airport, and we met up with another soon after. Look at us: Brand new country and already we're social butterflies.
I like to think I'm already acclimated: went to sleep after midnight, stayed asleep for seven-plus hours. Got up and started to do things. The truth is, I'm utterly discombobulated. I know we are 11 hours ahead of California, but frankly we were traveling so long and through so much weird times (leave the house at 6 a.m., arrive in NYC after dark, at 5:30 p.m. local time. Get on the red eye to Abu Dhabi, fly all night, arrive the next night at 8 p.m. ....) So I'm pretending that all is fine and I'm on schedule. I'm also pretending that I wouldn't give anything for a nap right about now (it's 2 p.m.)
We start work tomorrow, Sunday, and meanwhile we have a host of errands to run. First on the list: get an internet hookup. We are staying in a hotel for the next two months, and while the accommodations are not luxurious they are more than comfortable. But we have to get online. The hotel has given us an official document that says we have permission to have Internet installed in our room. I still have to figure out where to go to get the ball rolling.
Right now both Paul and I are sitting in the downstairs internet cafe typing away. We've become so accustomed to our laptops -- with all its secret documents and passwords attached -- that it's quite foreign to be on another machine for personal use.
We managed to hit the bank and the grocery store this morning ... stocking up on bread and cereal and milk and yogurt. It wasn't a big store and the kinds of things they had were varied. If I knew how to cook Indian food, I'd be in pretty good shape. I didn't find any sandwich meat, but I did see Pakistani mutton. Grocery prices seem pretty reasonable.
It's hot outside, in a humid hazy sort of way. Not utterly uncomfortable, but not pretty. I have no clear sense of direction yet, and would love to see the ocean, but don't know where it is. I'm trying to decide what to make of things here, and I've decided it's much too early to tell. There is a lot of traffic, crossing the street is hazardous, buildings are unremarkable. It feels like a third-world country with some money, but there is little coherence.
It feels less crowded than Hong Kong, and much less convenient. I haven't seen the ubiquitous food stands and store-front laundries. It might be a factor of my location, but I just don't know.
There are lots of men wandering/loitering outside. Perhaps it's cooler outside than wherever they live. There are no bars to congregate at; maybe it's a way of hanging out without spending money. We haven't yet seen a lot of women. The Emirati men are notable by their traditional dress: White gowns with red checked head coverings. It is quite obvious that men are the majority population here. Also, that foreigners are a majority as well.
Now, mind you, I haven't been here even a full day yet and first impressions are often deceiving. I guess I'll give it a few more days :) ...
Next up, we get cell phone numbers and internet access -- check out the mall and get ready for a full day of work -- the first in many months for me.
Tonight we'll study our style guide, finish reading the day's newspaper (it's very nicely designed, and has a great Saturday magazine), and get used to the idea of a daily routine.
I can't wait!
October 17, 2009
October 6, 2009
So, Abu Dhabi
By now anyone who reads me knows how much I love to pack. And that's just for a trip. Imagine me trying to pack up my belongings and my home.
And now stop laughing.
Moving a household -- whether or not you are taking your furniture with you -- is no small endeavor. And moving to another country is even more logistically challenging. I have chosen to focus on the logistical stuff -- address changes, bank accounts, bill paying, cat removal -- but that still leaves all the other stuff to be done and if you think I'm purposely avoiding it, you're right.
We are approaching D-Day. That is, delivery of the storage truck. We figured if we made a specific date then we'd have to abide by it. So the truck arrives on Monday at 12:30 p.m. and whatever we want out of the apartment has to be packed and ready by then.
It is, not surprisingly, a daunting task. Our concept of what is precious to us -- and what can be left behind for renters -- changes daily. I am working across the apartment from the collectibles and pottery to the kitchen, with dishes in between. The display cases are empty, so now on to the china cabinet. We also have realized we have woefully, laughably underestimated the number of crates/boxes we will need. We haven't even considered the books yet, although we will have to.
Because it took until last week for the company to send us visas, we weren't ever certain about our departure date and so it was easy to procrastinate. And now, even though we still don't have the tickets in hand yet we know we are leaving on Oct. 15 and that is only 10 days away. OK nine.
So today I'll do a little bit more and then find some excuse to stop. I figure if I can do one set of cabinets each day i'll make it. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
And now stop laughing.
Moving a household -- whether or not you are taking your furniture with you -- is no small endeavor. And moving to another country is even more logistically challenging. I have chosen to focus on the logistical stuff -- address changes, bank accounts, bill paying, cat removal -- but that still leaves all the other stuff to be done and if you think I'm purposely avoiding it, you're right.
We are approaching D-Day. That is, delivery of the storage truck. We figured if we made a specific date then we'd have to abide by it. So the truck arrives on Monday at 12:30 p.m. and whatever we want out of the apartment has to be packed and ready by then.
It is, not surprisingly, a daunting task. Our concept of what is precious to us -- and what can be left behind for renters -- changes daily. I am working across the apartment from the collectibles and pottery to the kitchen, with dishes in between. The display cases are empty, so now on to the china cabinet. We also have realized we have woefully, laughably underestimated the number of crates/boxes we will need. We haven't even considered the books yet, although we will have to.
Because it took until last week for the company to send us visas, we weren't ever certain about our departure date and so it was easy to procrastinate. And now, even though we still don't have the tickets in hand yet we know we are leaving on Oct. 15 and that is only 10 days away. OK nine.
So today I'll do a little bit more and then find some excuse to stop. I figure if I can do one set of cabinets each day i'll make it. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
September 22, 2009
New Home! (For Sidney)
If all goes as planned (and yes, I know I'm tempting fate!) Sidney will be on his way to his new home on Sunday. In Little Rock, Arkansas.
My fabulous sister-in-law Kati Garcia (soon to be Kati Grabham?) has offered to make room in her home and her heart for Sidney. I'm not usually this sappy, but hey, this is Sidney we're talking about.
Miss Kati arrives in San Diego on Thursday to get married, and told me to have the cat ready for transport on Sunday, when she heads back home. Pending the OK from the vet on Thursday -- and he is doing very well these days, so I don't anticipate any issues -- I'll send him via LAX, he'll get on her plane at Dallas and she'll pick him up in Little Rock.
Don't you just love happily-ever-after??
My fabulous sister-in-law Kati Garcia (soon to be Kati Grabham?) has offered to make room in her home and her heart for Sidney. I'm not usually this sappy, but hey, this is Sidney we're talking about.
Miss Kati arrives in San Diego on Thursday to get married, and told me to have the cat ready for transport on Sunday, when she heads back home. Pending the OK from the vet on Thursday -- and he is doing very well these days, so I don't anticipate any issues -- I'll send him via LAX, he'll get on her plane at Dallas and she'll pick him up in Little Rock.
Don't you just love happily-ever-after??
September 17, 2009
Please Rescue Me
This has been a difficult post to write. While we are looking forward to our new adventure in Abu Dhabi, Sidney can't join us.He's just too old to make yet another trans-oceanic trip -- especially one that will take 20 hours. Many of you know that Truman didn't survive the trip home from France, and that was three years ago now.
So yes, I'm trying to tug at your heart strings and hoping one of my very few readers will know someone who can offer a good home to Sid. He needs lots of love and attention and will give it back in return.
Despite his size -- 21 pounds -- he's very gentle.
I love this cat more than I can describe, and those of you who know me know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to.
Drop me a note if you have any ideas. I've already reached out to his vet and am planning to paper Long Beach with posters.
Thanks so much
September 6, 2009
Up Next
Our fabulous five-week run of funemployment is winding down, and we have new and exciting things on the horizon.
The most important thing we accomplished here in Paris (aside from perfecting the art of doing nothing) was that we found jobs!! Both of us!! Working for a newspaper!! In Abu Dhabi. (note lack of exclamation points). Truth be told it will be, I am sure, another in what has been a long string of adventures for us.
As with Beijing, Hong Kong and Paris, I have plans to continue blogging. It's likely there will be the stray post from Long Beach, most probably dealing with the logistics of yet another overseas move. We expect to settle in sometime in mid-October.
So stay tuned.
The most important thing we accomplished here in Paris (aside from perfecting the art of doing nothing) was that we found jobs!! Both of us!! Working for a newspaper!! In Abu Dhabi. (note lack of exclamation points). Truth be told it will be, I am sure, another in what has been a long string of adventures for us.
As with Beijing, Hong Kong and Paris, I have plans to continue blogging. It's likely there will be the stray post from Long Beach, most probably dealing with the logistics of yet another overseas move. We expect to settle in sometime in mid-October.
So stay tuned.
September 4, 2009
Come Over for Dinner
Putting on a dinner party seems daunting, but it gets a whole lot easier when you have the helpful french merchants to help you plan it. We decided we would have a dinner, and that I would cook. We had had people over on previous occasions, but not at the current 17th arrondissement apartment. Because the Marais apartment is used primarily as a vacation rental, it isn't set up all that well to cook. But the place we're in now has someone living in it full time and so there were actually lots of pots and pans and utensils.
Ultimately, this meant instead of roast chicken from the butcher I was going to make a real dinner. Cook, in fact.
I decided to make magret de canard aux peches -- duck breast with peaches. Now Paul always gets nervous when I make something for guests that he hasn't seen me make before, (I think I'm a pretty good cook, he is occasionally skeptical). But I have made this before, it was just a long time ago, and in my own kitchen with a gas stove and an oven I knew well.
First stop was the butcher. Going to the butcher here is actually a pleasure, rather than a chore. You tell the butcher what you want, and then you can ask for little tips. How long should I cook it? Do you think it's better to put it in the oven or in a pan on the stovetop? And the butcher is always happy to oblige. 14 minutes he said. 7 minutes each side -- whether in the pan or under the broiler. It's my choice, he said -- no difference. That alone would have been helpful. Then, I asked him what he though I should serve as a side dish. I said I had planned to serve it with peaches and he said are you going to use butter to cook them? Of course, I said (although last time I think I cooked them in some of the duck fat). Well, he said, then you don't need anything else. Another side dish would be too much. The peaches were sufficient.
And then, the ultimate. He prepped the breasts for me. I was a bit concerned at first, because it was a straight butcher and not a bird butcher. So he didn't specialize in duck breast, but more in beef and porck. Thus, the duck came prepackaged. But he took them out of the package, cut off the excess fat while leaving plenty to cook with, then scored the fat twice and showed me how to slice it when it was ready. I was just so pleased that he'd done all the hard work. In the end, all I had to do was get it cooked -- whether in the oven or in the pan. My choice, of course.
(A side note here. Those of you who have had roast duck, perhaps in a Chinese restaurant, know there is very little meat. The difference between a magret and a fillet -- both are breast meat -- is that magret comes from ducks fattened to make foie gras. Thus, the breast is very large -- the size of a good-sized chicken breast, in fact, and very meaty. Duck is more like red meat than like poultry.)
The we went to the wine store. I told the owner what I was serving, and asked him to recommend a wine. He asked if I wanted a red and I said yes. Not too expensive, I added. He scanned his reds, thought a minute, then picked out a E4.50 wine and said "This one." He never tried to upsell me, or convince me to get something I didn't want. I asked him for something and he gave it to me. It's a neat trick, isn't it, to actually get what you want. Then I asked him if the E20 Champagne was any good. It was a few euros below all the others, and I was trying for something good but again, not too expensive. Oh yes, he said. That one is excellent. Again, no effort to make me feel cheap, or feel bad that I wasn't going for a big-name Champagne.
So far, the hardest part of the dinner was done. All the figuring out of stuff. I added some very nice cheese, including a Normandy Livarot made with Calvados, some great bread from the now-open bakery across the street (and it was still warm when we bought it!!) and knew we'd have a dessert from one of our guests. That's the other thing I've learned in France. I used to try to do all of it myself, and now, when someone asks if they can bring something, I let them. Usually a dessert, because that always seems like such a hassle.
In the end, we had a lovely meal, with very good company. We had two bottles of Champagne and three and a half bottles of red. We had a view of the Eiffel Tower through our floor-to-ceiling windows, one of our guests brought a marvelous Bourdeaux which we had with the cheese course, and we oohed and aahed over the darling tarts brought for dessert. (the lemon tart with lime shavings was amazingly good).
Life here can be incredibly civilized. I know in my heart it's impossible to duplicate this sort of thing in California, and believe me, I've tried. It just goes against everything in American culture. We don't want to linger over dinner, talk about non-work topics with our friends, invite interesting people over and see what happens. We don't want to drink too much wine, or drive too far to get where we're going, or interrupt our TV schedules.
And it's a shame.
In any case, life is different here -- even cooking dinner for friends -- for both good and ill. And as reluctant as I am to leave, I think I'd like to do it before my current love affair with Paris comes to an end; before we have our first inevitable fight.
Ultimately, this meant instead of roast chicken from the butcher I was going to make a real dinner. Cook, in fact.
I decided to make magret de canard aux peches -- duck breast with peaches. Now Paul always gets nervous when I make something for guests that he hasn't seen me make before, (I think I'm a pretty good cook, he is occasionally skeptical). But I have made this before, it was just a long time ago, and in my own kitchen with a gas stove and an oven I knew well.
First stop was the butcher. Going to the butcher here is actually a pleasure, rather than a chore. You tell the butcher what you want, and then you can ask for little tips. How long should I cook it? Do you think it's better to put it in the oven or in a pan on the stovetop? And the butcher is always happy to oblige. 14 minutes he said. 7 minutes each side -- whether in the pan or under the broiler. It's my choice, he said -- no difference. That alone would have been helpful. Then, I asked him what he though I should serve as a side dish. I said I had planned to serve it with peaches and he said are you going to use butter to cook them? Of course, I said (although last time I think I cooked them in some of the duck fat). Well, he said, then you don't need anything else. Another side dish would be too much. The peaches were sufficient.
And then, the ultimate. He prepped the breasts for me. I was a bit concerned at first, because it was a straight butcher and not a bird butcher. So he didn't specialize in duck breast, but more in beef and porck. Thus, the duck came prepackaged. But he took them out of the package, cut off the excess fat while leaving plenty to cook with, then scored the fat twice and showed me how to slice it when it was ready. I was just so pleased that he'd done all the hard work. In the end, all I had to do was get it cooked -- whether in the oven or in the pan. My choice, of course.
(A side note here. Those of you who have had roast duck, perhaps in a Chinese restaurant, know there is very little meat. The difference between a magret and a fillet -- both are breast meat -- is that magret comes from ducks fattened to make foie gras. Thus, the breast is very large -- the size of a good-sized chicken breast, in fact, and very meaty. Duck is more like red meat than like poultry.)
The we went to the wine store. I told the owner what I was serving, and asked him to recommend a wine. He asked if I wanted a red and I said yes. Not too expensive, I added. He scanned his reds, thought a minute, then picked out a E4.50 wine and said "This one." He never tried to upsell me, or convince me to get something I didn't want. I asked him for something and he gave it to me. It's a neat trick, isn't it, to actually get what you want. Then I asked him if the E20 Champagne was any good. It was a few euros below all the others, and I was trying for something good but again, not too expensive. Oh yes, he said. That one is excellent. Again, no effort to make me feel cheap, or feel bad that I wasn't going for a big-name Champagne.
So far, the hardest part of the dinner was done. All the figuring out of stuff. I added some very nice cheese, including a Normandy Livarot made with Calvados, some great bread from the now-open bakery across the street (and it was still warm when we bought it!!) and knew we'd have a dessert from one of our guests. That's the other thing I've learned in France. I used to try to do all of it myself, and now, when someone asks if they can bring something, I let them. Usually a dessert, because that always seems like such a hassle.
In the end, we had a lovely meal, with very good company. We had two bottles of Champagne and three and a half bottles of red. We had a view of the Eiffel Tower through our floor-to-ceiling windows, one of our guests brought a marvelous Bourdeaux which we had with the cheese course, and we oohed and aahed over the darling tarts brought for dessert. (the lemon tart with lime shavings was amazingly good).
Life here can be incredibly civilized. I know in my heart it's impossible to duplicate this sort of thing in California, and believe me, I've tried. It just goes against everything in American culture. We don't want to linger over dinner, talk about non-work topics with our friends, invite interesting people over and see what happens. We don't want to drink too much wine, or drive too far to get where we're going, or interrupt our TV schedules.
And it's a shame.
In any case, life is different here -- even cooking dinner for friends -- for both good and ill. And as reluctant as I am to leave, I think I'd like to do it before my current love affair with Paris comes to an end; before we have our first inevitable fight.
August 29, 2009
Random Paris Thoughts
I have all these ideas when I'm walking around, and of course when I sit down to write I can't think of anything (except to brag about my new iPod!)
So, here goes: A random collection of things I've been thinking about the last week or so.
The bananas in Hong Kong were the best I've ever eaten. ... Food prices in Paris seem higher, but upon weight conversions, etc., really aren't any worse than Ralph's. ... The Fran Prix in the Marais is markedly more expensive than the Monoprix in the 17th, which seems slightly counter-intuitive. ... At the Paris Plage festival, there was a big old jungle-gym type thing that was incredibly dangerous to my American eyes, and all Paul and I could think of was: The insurance for that thing must be really high! ... The best thing about the Marais, to me, is that we are half a block from one of the best bakeries in Paris, and get to enjoy fresh and still-warm baguettes daily. ... I found a butcher at the Bastille market who sells the most amazing roast chicken I've ever eaten. ... I am realizing that all I have to say is about food. ... I love having fresh flowers in the apartment, but all the florists are still closed for the summer. ... Speaking of closed, doesn't it seem a bit odd that a shop that specializes in ice cream would be closed for the month of August? ... We had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, right at the base of the Eiffel Tower. I never get tired of going there. ... I find my French has come back rather well, but I can't grasp certain vocabulary words that used to come easily (like puree for mashed potatoes -- but maybe it was the wine) ... Everyone raves about the efficient Metro system here, but it is the bus system that is the real star of public transportation. You get a mini sight-seeing tour with every trip. ... It's amazing to see the population of a neighborhood triple as summer comes to an end.
So, here goes: A random collection of things I've been thinking about the last week or so.
The bananas in Hong Kong were the best I've ever eaten. ... Food prices in Paris seem higher, but upon weight conversions, etc., really aren't any worse than Ralph's. ... The Fran Prix in the Marais is markedly more expensive than the Monoprix in the 17th, which seems slightly counter-intuitive. ... At the Paris Plage festival, there was a big old jungle-gym type thing that was incredibly dangerous to my American eyes, and all Paul and I could think of was: The insurance for that thing must be really high! ... The best thing about the Marais, to me, is that we are half a block from one of the best bakeries in Paris, and get to enjoy fresh and still-warm baguettes daily. ... I found a butcher at the Bastille market who sells the most amazing roast chicken I've ever eaten. ... I am realizing that all I have to say is about food. ... I love having fresh flowers in the apartment, but all the florists are still closed for the summer. ... Speaking of closed, doesn't it seem a bit odd that a shop that specializes in ice cream would be closed for the month of August? ... We had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, right at the base of the Eiffel Tower. I never get tired of going there. ... I find my French has come back rather well, but I can't grasp certain vocabulary words that used to come easily (like puree for mashed potatoes -- but maybe it was the wine) ... Everyone raves about the efficient Metro system here, but it is the bus system that is the real star of public transportation. You get a mini sight-seeing tour with every trip. ... It's amazing to see the population of a neighborhood triple as summer comes to an end.
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