The benefit of being a mobile worker, is that I can be...well...mobile! So I mobilized the boys and took them to Denmark, out of the dust and heat for 6 weeks. We left Slim and Aric behind in sand city, where they are living a true Bachelor Life.

After a few days of relaxing at Mutti's - getting over jetlag and settling, we moved into the home, I exchanged for our Sanibel house, for 3 weeks. What a super good idea to use the internet for vacation home exchange!! The house is perfect for the boys and I. 4 bedrooms and a magnificent kitchen, living and dining area; French doors out to a private nice garden. Too bad we can't have it all summer, but 3 weeks are better than nothing.

Last week, I spent my birthday in the North at my best friend Josephine's cottage. She and two other girlfriends, Michelle and Rikke, arranged a girl's dinner and evening and it was an emotional, fun and chatty night with great food, an award winning cake :) and wine. Wish we were all closer but it was a wonderful evening.

The boys have scattered. That usually happens when we get to Copenhagen. Aidan goes off to practically live with Julius, his best friend since 1st grade and Hunter divides his time between Joni and Mads, also best friends from the Danish school since Kindergarten. They come back when they need more money! This summer both of them are going to Sweden for 4-5 days with Julius and other friends. I guess this is "practice separation" for when Aidan goes off to University or a gap year somewhere in the third world.

This weekend my cousin Gitte and I co-hosted a Champagne Brunch in full Dubai style! Her birthday is today and it seemed like a good occasion to celebrate with the family. I do get a little time in for work :) in between all the social events I run off to. Shopping has also found a spot on my agenda and I need a bigger suitcase when we return to Dubai. Cannot pass up 40-70% sales!

I run every morning and supplement with bike riding in the afternoons. It is a real treat to be able to run outside without having to make it 5am to avoid the heat. Dubai is just too hot right now to do anything strenuous outside.

Aric joins us August 24 for a week - before we all head back to the Sandbox Aug 31. I think he is looking forward to escape the heat too. Unfortunately Slim has to stay behind in a kennel for that week. The paperwork and process to bring him out is longer than an expat coming in, so we felt he will be better off staying cool with other dogs in the luxurious airconditioned kennel.

Here, we speak Arabic!!

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Jebel Ali police station can only be described as a trailer park in Southern Kentucky (sans the signs in Arab) and the statement session can only be described as the film "Lost in Translation" - in overdrive! Day 4 - Sipping tea (which tasted like milky coffee) we prepared for Hunter's interrogation. It should have been a plain statement giving episode but by default, the Arab language sounds like people are angry and spit at you. So naturally we expected no less than fingernail pulling and electric shock treatments.

We obviously did not get off to a good start by not having Hunter's passport - hey, it was a statement about a stolen bike, not arrivals at terminal 3! The officer was clearly irritated over that because he couldn't spell Hunter's name in Arabic. The he started asking questions about the bike and the place where it was stolen, while he wrote down all the answers on a plain piece of paper. After half an hour he took the paper and started typing all of the info into the PC.

Aric had strongly advised Hunter to tell the truth - meaning the whole incident about the young lovers and the narrow escape over the balcony, etc. I strongly advised Hunter to lie, knowing that if he didn't get arrested for trespassing and parking his bike at an empty home, he would surely be arrested and possibly deported for being alone with a female in a home with no supervision. Aric saw the point and yielded! So, Hunter sat there and fabricated a new story (even though we had been consistent in telling the original story 4 times previously - but I was counting on Saddam not understanding that 100%).

The official statement reads in Arabic that Hunter was visiting Amru, a friend of his, whose telephone number he can't remember, whose last name he can't remember and whose house number he forgot. But he was there for 2 hours before both he and Amru went to another friend's house in Meadows 3, house number 12, no specifics if this friend was a male or female. And in the meantime his bike got stolen. Yep, sounds good to me! Aric turned more and more red faced as the story unfolded and sounded more and more outlandish. But the officer wrote it all down. I tried to look completely disinterested in case they analyzed body language and strange ticks! I'm not really a good liar, but Hunter has several Oscar nominations in his past! Must have been the fake nerd glasses he wore!

It wasn't until the officer asked Hunter, if he thought it was a mistake to park the bike at the empty house, that I woke up and started protesting. Aric and I were both on the edge of our seats telling Hunter to answer that question with a "no". The officer was clearly confused and looked at Aric and I like we were two mad laywers from "Boston Legal". At this point we were about an hour and a half into the visit and I for one had lost all patience. My brother Mark and I were supposed to cook Enchiladas for the whole family and here I was - stuck in a Mayberry trailer with Barney Fife!

On the way there, Aric had specifically warned us to stay calm no matter what. I have a history of saying some less than desirable words to police officers, both in Chicago and Disney World, so Aric reminded me that we were in a 'not so tolerable country'. All Aric's warnings fell on deaf ears, as I looked straight at the officer, pointed my finger (another big no-no) and told him that if he thought he could get away with accusing my son of being a criminal, he had another thing coming! My voice may have gotten a bit louder because I noticed that all eyes in the room were on me. Aric sent me dagger looks but I was not to be stopped. The officer told me that I must have misunderstood his question and then he asked again, "wasn't it wrong and an error to park the bike at an empty house who wasn't his?" OK MISTER - there is NO misunderstanding. I told Hunter to say NO. Hunter calmly said "no, the house was empty so I didn't see the mistake?" (Yes, score one to the Aults).

Less than 30 seconds later Saddam entered the room and asked what the problem was. I told him I was tired of the interrogation like scenario and asked how long we would need to go through this to get a statement for the insurance company.

Saddam then said, look, it is a crime to go in to a property even though it is empty, as there is an owner - somewhere. I told him this was ridiculous to which he answered, OK "so if you have an empty home and you are somewhere else in the world, I can park my car in your driveway?" I was so fed up with him that I cynically said "yes, if you pay me enough" - then shook my head. He was clearly not amused and I knew I would get nowhere with him. Short of telling him to F*** off, I threw the papers on the desk and said I was done with them, I would wait outside.

Aric and Hunter came out 30 mintues later. I was on pins and needles! Aric told me that after I left, he asked the officer and Saddam "are you happy now, you have upset a woman, do you feel good?" Then he pointed to a big poster, which advertised e-complaints, and said to the guy in charge: "I'm going to file a complaint over how we are treated, because if you were in our country you would never ever be treated like this" - good for you Aric! Let's not bring up Quantanamo Bay and all the Arabs detained there. Just for better effect he asked Saddam to write his name down so he could spell it right in the complaint. The guy said he didn't understand much English (even though he had no language problems earlier - and he arrogantly said "here we speak Arabic" to which Aric said, yeah? well I'm an expat here and I speak English! Apparently the major arrived at that point and assured Aric that the case would be finalized, Aric could pick up the statement the next morning and just in case of any issues he gave his personal mobile number.

We had a good dinner, albeit late. The next day (day 5) Aric went to pick up the statement and to nobody's surprise, the guy there could not find the documents. He couldn't find anything in the computer either because he couldn't spell Hunter's name in Arabic. Maybe they should try filing cases in English!!?? Aric was then told to come back at 10pm when the same shift office was present. Aric told them - politely, with grinding teeth - after going into a complete hissy fit - that they could file the case in a dark place, he was done with them. He told me to send the insurance papers without the police report; it was not worth any more aggrevation to wait for the report.

The following morning (day 6) I received a call from Jebel Ali mobile park, from a Captain "I- can't-remember-his-name-but-it-was-something-Arabic" asking why Mr. Aric had not picked up the document the night before. Are you kidding me??? I told the guy we had been trying for days to get the statement and that we were out of patience. The Captain said it was very unfortunate Mr. Aric got so angry the day before - there were procedures and we must understand that! I felt like telling him where he could stuff his procedures, but instead I went to the police station and miraculously walked out with a letter, in Arabic and with a lot of stamps, and one word in English: "Specialized" - the name of Hunter's bike.

What the rest of the letter said is a mystery. Probably read that Hunter's mom is a lunatic.

The Captain told me they have 4 shifts and it doesn't take an MIT student to calculate that the officers work 6 hours a day.... they clearly suffer from case overloads!! No wonder Mohammed doesn't know what Abdullah does, or Rashid is unaware of where Omar files his cases.

I would hate to know what people do when there is a real crime in Dubai!

Kids, kids, kids...and Slim

We interrupt the Fairy Tale about the young love birds and the stolen silver horse, to bring you a family update.

Mark (Pia's brother) and his wife Tina, kids Oliver and Josefine, visited for 2 weeks in July. It was a full house and a fabulous time with Aquaventure days, camel hunting (for pictures), shopping, shopping, pool, boat, sun and a bit more shopping. Friday brunches, dinners and a salsa nite also became part of the agenda for Mark and Tina.

Slim has never had so much play time as he did these past two weeks - Josefine made sure he didn't rest. Just when it looked to became a little too much screaming and moodiness from Josefine, Pia took Aidan and Hunter and headed to Copenhagen - out of the sandbox - for 7 weeks. While Mark, Tina and the kids stayed with Slim and Aric and had a couple of days in Atlantis and swimming with the dolphins.

They arrived back in Copenhagen last night tired but full of fantastic holiday memories. Aric will stay behind in the dust until August 24, when he joins us in Denmark for a well deserved holiday in the much cooler North.

The twelve days of police station visits (episode 2 of the "Stolen Bike")

It would be another 4 days before the journey to Jebel Ali (translated: Ali Mountain) because in-between, Aric and I spent a long weekend with several other Cisco couples in Ras Al Khamiah, relaxing, boating and golfing (men) and Spa-ing (women). I felt this was highly needed after the nightmare of having to deal with Dubai CSI, Khadaffi and Saddam all in one afternoon.

Aric volunteered to go with me to the police station to file a report. This was a great idea because women are not seen as the major force in "getting things done" in Dubai.

We arrived (day 1) at the shack representing the police station. Inside was a make-shift counter where we told the duty officer that we wanted to file a stolen bike report. He told us to speak with the Sergeant Director (I think this was Kaddafi’s younger brother) and while we waited to be invited into his office, we sat on the bench facing several Indian detainees daisy chained together in handcuffs. Of course I wondered what crime they had committed (maybe one was a gardener who had taken a silver bike??) - they all looked a bit lost but appeared happy as soon as they were unlocked and allowed to go outside for a "fresh air" break (as if 115 Fahrenheit could be considered fresh air). It was just like a dog kennel where the animals are taken out for a potty trip! Well, that’s blog story for another day. Back to our fairy tale about the lost silver bike.
Aric and I finally got to talk to the guy we thought was quite high on the totem pole. Kaddafi junior asked us why we were there. After another attempt to explain that we just wanted to file a report, so we could get the insurance claim submitted, he told us we needed to come back at 10pm when the next shift captain would be on duty. This made no sense (and both of us made sure to communicate that). Kaddafi junior told us that he only spoke very little and very bad English (no sh*t Sherlock) – so we asked to speak to the guy who appeared to have taken on-line language courses at Cambridge, colonel Abdullah something. We know he’s a colonel because Aric and he had a 30 minute conversation about rank and what the various tinsel stuff on their uniform represented. One star, you are “nothing” – two stars you are a little more….one star, a falcon and a set of crossed swords and you have about 40 years in service and still remember when oil was still a black sticky substance that came out of the sand. We wanted to talk to the guy with the falcon and swords, definitely!

Sadly he told us the same thing. “We have 4 shifts and the guy who worked on your case has not put anything in the system yet (after 2 weeks) so we cannot help you! Please come back at 10pm and speak to Captain Omar Bin Rashabaha-bla-bla-bla”! We left after an hour and a half – confused, mad and with no copy of the police report.

At 10pm that evening I called the station. I asked for Captain Omar Bla bla bla (thinking he was actually the Saddam cop who was at the scene with CSI Dubai). “No this is MAJOR Omar Bin Rasha bla-bla-bla – I am a MAJOR not a Captain. Oh boy! I asked him what he had on his shoulders – he told me he had a flag, two falcons, four swords, six stars and partridge in a pear tree! Apologizing profusely, I told him that Colonel Abdullah had told me he was a captain (always blame the other guy!!)

Anyway the Major turned out to be a nice guy even though he never gave me a case number – because as he explained, which makes TOTAL sense - the guy on the third shift had locked the cabinet and he had no access! Of course not! Silly me! So Major Omar Bin Rasha Bla-bla-bla invited me back the next day – with the wee lad - to give a statement (the fourth verbal statement but who’s counting). I couldn’t wait! I told Aric I wanted to put my best dress on because the Major had personally invited me to come and be confused yet again.

The next day (day 2), La Familia sat in the special office where tea was served to the officers and guests and we had the pleasure of Hunter being interrogated.

Episode 3 will follow very soon.

Dubai Police - To Serve, Protect, and generally Confuse You!

Once upon a time, in a sandbox far, far away, there was a wee skinny lad (aka Hunter) who loved a young beautiful maiden (aka Chelsea). They saw eachother every day at school but her parents (aka the Korean monsters) were very protective, so the two young lovebirds needed to keep their relationship a secret and found it hard to see eachother often. After many months of agony, the young maiden's father (who had previously forbidden her to see any young man who did not have squinted eyes or owned a noodle factory) decided the family should move back to Korea before Chelsea lost her heritage and traditions for good.



On one very hot Thursday a few weeks ago, the wee lad risked a heat stroke & bicycled all the way from his home in the Marina, to the young maiden's residence in the Meadows division. Her family lived there with her aunt until they were to leave Dubai. The family was out for the day but just to be on the safe side, the wee lad parked his bicycle well hidden, behind the garden wall of an empty neighbor home, locked and leaned it up against a tree.



Three hours later, the young couple heard the family return so the wee lad climbed - Hollywood Style - out of the window, onto the balcony and jumped down one story to the hot ground, sneaked around the front and bolted across the street to the empty house. Only with great despair to find his silver Specialized Hardrock mountain horse was gone!! Odin and Thor have mercy on the poor soul who had walked off with the pauper's bike!!
He summoned not only the Nordic Gods but the gate security people, who with bobbling heads told him that some random gardener probably took it, lock and all, so he could get around to more jobs in father neigborhoods.

The wee lad sought the console of his parents. His mother is a cracker at practical things and she immediately contacted the insurance company, downloaded the forms on-line and proceeded to fill out the 5 pages of seemingly tedious information. At one point she came upon "number of police report / case". OK, no big deal thought the mother. She called the non-emergency number listed in the "Contact us" section of the Dubai police website. "Madam please dial the emergency number 999" - but, eh, this is not an emergency!?! "It's OK madam, please call them and they will handle". Ok, ok, ok the mother thought with a bobbling head.

After dialing 999 and getting a female operator on the line, the mother was informed that they would send a patrol car to the site of the crime. Oh no, no...we don't live there - gasped the mother. Ok, we will have someone call you back. An hour later a police officer (?) called the mother and asked what jewelry was missing? HUH?? No - the mother explained her wee lad's bike had been stolen from the Meadows. The officer asked what house? So the mother explained, Meadows 3, street 6, house no. 45. OK we will send a car. NO! NO! We don't live there. We live in the Marina, the mother again gasped. "Madam, why the bike in Meadows?"

Starting to break a sweat (though inside in the A/C, the mother started to explain the whole fairytale of the wee lad and the maiden....only to realize the person at the other end understaood 10% of the tale. OK, we will send a car. Arrgghh!!
After 3 hours of phone tag, the mother collected her wits. Told the wee lad they had no option but to drive over to Meadows to meet the car that was being sent.

The wee lad and his mother sat in their airconditioned car for 40 minutes while waiting for the Dubai police. Finally a car approached. It wasn't Starsky and Hutch, nor Miami Vice. Let's just say the officers reminded the mother of Col. Khadaffi and his young gopher. The odd couple walked around the front of the empty home as if the silver bike would all of a sudden miraculously appear. Going through the whole story of the young love birds for a third time, only to get a blank look from Col. Khadaffi, the mother thought - (insert large text cloud above her head here) Sigh, I'm getting nowhere....they are focused on why the bike was parked across the street. We have to get them re-focused on the crime at hand!

Always action oriented, the mother snapped the Colonel back into focus - "hey, Khadaffi....look it: the bike was taken, lock and all, and is probably in Sharja by now, having been transported with 50 other poor bikes, stuffed like sardines in a people-trafficking manner, in a hot container accross the border. Do you think you can write a report, provide me with the copy and we can all get out of the 48 C friggin sauna??" Madam, we don't write reports. We are emergency patrol for highway only (WHAT?? Why the hell (she didn't say that out loud as swearing is a deportable offense) did you come here then ??

Khadaffi and his cohort discussed something in Arabic for quite a while. In the meantime the Indian Royal Guard from the gate house had arrived and were talking to Hunter about how a gardener had probably taken the bi.....yeah yeah, we know that part of the story already - let's fast forward to where you help us get a piece of green paper (you never want the pink copy as it means you are the guilty party) so we can get the hell out of dodge. Ok, ok, ok...."Madam the officer tells me you have to wait for the Captain" WHAAAT????? The mother asked the Indian gate keeper if the Sheikh would come too? The Indian clearly didn't get it, so she thought - right, better zip it now. Yep, sure enough, Khadaffi confirmed that the Captain and the CSI Dubai team would need to come and fingerprint the scene and take photos. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? The mother asked, with a stiff and very forced smile, how they thought they would lift prints from the bark of a tree? "Madam, the team is very professional and this is protocol"....PROTOCOL?? How about protocol-ing a piece of green paper right into my hands as this is now getting to be a farce.

So the wee lad and his - by now - fuming mother, entered their cold vehicle only to wait for the captain for another 45 minutes. The mother doesn't smoke, but she sure felt like a cigarette at this point - followed by a rather large Martini to calm her Scandinavian Viking temper.

Finally a second white and green car drove up. This time we expected Gary Sinise and his furrowed brow to appear. Nope, no such luck - Saddam Hussein himself stepped out of the vehicle, with a full army uniform, lots of gold and colors on his chest and a cap that would make the Paris catwalk fashionistas jealous. Looking very stern, he gazed at the mother and son with a contemptuos stare that pierced the windshield in her Toyota Prado. Never one to be intimidated for long, the mother hopped out of her car and introduced herself to Saddam. Hmmnn, hello - was his muddled reply. "Your bike stolen here" he asked Hunter and pointed to the tree. "yes" replied Hunter. "Why you park bike here? Not your house!" No, the house is empty said Hunter proceeding to explain that his girlfriend's parents could not know he was visiting. Saddam ignored him and sternly said, "but someone own the house, this is not legal, a crime, to put your bike here". Uh oh, - the mother quickly acknowledged that "yes, we fully understand - you are right your almighty male chauvenistic dictator" (OK that wasn't said out loud due to the previously explained fear of deportation) - "but you see: the house is emp.... - HOW YOU KNOW THIS HOUSE EMPTY - Saddam rudely interrupted her....SOMEONE OWN IT! Sh*t!! The mother and Hunter quickly glanced at eachother. She looked at Saddam and told him with a sweet smile - that "yes, we understand, this lad is only 15 years old and slightly stupid and lovesick, so he wasn't thinking straight and if you can be so kind as to provide a teeny weeny report, we will be out of hair as quick as you can say Allah".

His mouth must have been dry because otherwise the mother was certain that spit would have landed on her while he said: "GO TO JEBEL ALI" - having lost the battle but NOT the war, the mother and the wee lad got into the car and drove off - FUMING and asking Allah to hail down all sorts of grasshoppers onto Saddam and Khadaffi the same afternoon.

Exhausted, hot, sweaty and very confused - the mother and the wee lad returned to their penthouse and pondered what lay in store for them in Jebel Ali.

....To be continued....very soon....like tomorrow....stay tuned!!

One-armed Lifeguard

X-treme sports have always been an element in our family activities and for some lucky reason (knock on wood) neither one of the kids have experienced any broken limbs yet. The Dad holds the record for that and does not look as if he is going to relinquish that title.

Within the last month, however, Aidan has practiced a 360 turn on his snow board. He can do it on the water on the surf board, but so far at Ski Dubai it has amounted to a bruised rib and recently a dislocated shoulder. Amazingly, Aquaventure still employs him. He directs the "lazy river" traffic or controls the conveyer belt for the slides and that way he has plenty of time to check out the babes and chat them up!

We don't yet know if he needs surgery. The doctor has to check him again in 3 weeks and then decide. The bone on top of his shoulder does stick up at a rather weird angle so I am pretty sure Aidan will need at least some cosmetic correction. It got him out of the last few days of school and earned him some sympathy from one of the cute Danish girls in his year. They have agreed to meet up when we go to Denmark later in July.

Mark (Pia's brother), his wife Tina and the kids, Oliver and Josefine, arrive tomorrow morning for a 2 week holiday. They couldn't have selected a hotter time to visit but that didn't seem to stop them. It is 45-47 C during the day and 30 C at night (approx 105 F and low of 85'ish). We spend a lot of time indoor in the AC, and then go out for walks and swim in the pool when the sun goes down.

We have another sandstorm at the moment so visibility is low and it is blocking a lot of the sun, but the 80% humidity is still difficult to deal with.

Looking forward to spend most of the summer working in Denmark and cooling off with friends.