Fire Sale??

‘Small break’ in aquarium at Dubai’s biggest mall

DUBAI, United Arab Emirates (AP) — [Witnesses say a large part of the Middle East’s biggest shopping mall has been shut as maintenance crews scramble to contain a leak at the massive, shark-filled aquarium there.
An official at Dubai’s civil defense department says “there has been a small break in the glass.” He says rescue crews are on the scene. He spoke on condition of anonymity because the operation was ongoing.
Witnesses say a large part of the area around the aquarium have been cordoned off. Three mall security employees were seen entering the area wearing orange life vests. Mall owner Emaar did not respond to a request for comment. An employee at the ticket office says the aquarium has been shut for the day as maintenance crews work. ]

This probably means it is a MAJOR leak; everything in Dubai is censored and the officials always try to cover up "bad things" - must not let the facade crack under any circumstance! Well the facade cracked, I'll say.
I'm OK though....was not shoe shopping or having a facial there at the time! We can now look forward to a water sale I presume....so should be able to score a bargain on Shark-skin bags ;-) We will probably see specials on 'Fish n' Chips' at several fine restaurants! Getting into the mall in long traffic queues will seem like 'swimming up stream'.
OK I'll stop now and go back to my day job!

It's the Green thang....

Hours spent cleaning and washing out used glass, plastic and metal containers - carefully sorting paper and other recycleables.....even employeed Slim to help in the jar cleaning (only a dog tongue can reach the bottom of a Skippy PB jar!!) Just to find out that one truck actually collects it all, throws it all into one large container and then "it all gets sorted in Jebel Ali" !?! Yeah, that's a good one. Sorted mate! Let's be brutally honest here - Dubai has no recycling programs that are worth mentioning. Everyone feels good for sorting and being green but when it all ends in a land-fill anyway, you start to sheikh your head.

We have been filtering water with charcoal, re-using water bottles, but it doesn't seem to make a dent here. Of course we aren't complaining....the nasty land fills aren't here in sparkling Dubai - we just dump our garbage in Ajman, another Emirate. Let them worry about it....Like if Chicago dumped all its garbage in Indiana (maybe they do??) Out of sight, out of mind. I must write a letter to my congress...uhm sheikh...man and protest. After all we pay way too much in tax to see our recycling and garbage problems build up....oh wait, we don't pay taxes!! Well, maybe that's the real problem. Maybe Dubai should start introducing a service tax to have a better recycling program. After all, it's not like they have enough oil money to fund such endeavors!

All sarcasm aside - this beduin family is doing theirs to reduce waste water, shampoo usage, and cut pollution from wax and other hair products - both boys are now sporting the "PRISON BREAK" look, and while I personally find it so "2000 and late", I must admit there is something about Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows....that raw look....well, you get the drift!

Aidan has had this cut for a while now and he was thrilled when Hunter asked him to buzz his off.

Aidan reporting live from......the Sandbox

"We must ensure that the global market is embedded in broadly shared values and practices that reflect global social needs, and that all the world's people share the benefits of globalisation." Kofi Anan, Secretary General of the United Nations, 1997-2007

The most exciting thing about life, is that you cannot predict what is around the corner. Here we are talking about what we think our kids want to do, or what they actually will do, when they grow up and finish their expensive education....and what do we really know? The most unexpected option or opportunity can present itself when you least expect it. Take Aidan, dead set on wanting to study Industrial Design. He is creative, great at drawing and designing the most outlandish lounge chair and combination salt/pepper/oil/vinegar shaker (not sure how you shake out the vinegar or pour the salt yet...) and in the midst of his school activities, he was asked to be a reporter at the latest Model UN conference in Dubai. Hosted by his own school, Dubai International Academy, the topic of discussion was THE IMPACT OF GLOBALISATION, something we have a great deal of exposure to, given our nomadic lifestyle.

There may very well be an Anderson Cooper, or Peter Jennings lying in wait in Aidan's sub-conscience. Clearly he gave it his best shot and was actually published! Hopefully he took away more than the by-line, and actually thought about what Globalisation really means.

I've been to the desert on a horse with no name!

Playing polo is like playing golf during an earthquake (Sylvester Stallone, 1990).

The paddocks at the Dubai Polo Club are bigger and more well kept than some of the Indian labor camps here (my humble opinion). There is both water and A/C, which is more than can be said for several housing projects around town. But we weren't there to do an inspection. Aidan's girlfriend Courtney, thought it would be a super idea to do a 2 hour desert hack this weekend. Apparently Aidan never told her that he hasn't been on a horse since he was 8 or 9 years old. What that kid does for love is amazing. So off we went, drove to the polo club, where we met with our guide, Amin. Amin spent 23 years in the Indian army - most of it in the equestrian regiment - so in terms of experience, Aidan couldn't have had a better teacher. Courtney and I are both experienced riders so we were well up for galoping through the sand dunes like cowboys herding cattle. But we stayed calm and made sure Aidan had both feet in the stirrups.

While we didn't make it as far out as when Aric does his dune bashing in the Toyota, we still got to see rural Dubai; dodging a few future construction sites there were plenty of dunes to go around. Aidan was tethered to Amin by a rope to his horses collar, so there was no chance it would bolt with him (there was no chance even if he didn't have the rope - an ex-polo horse from Argentina, it must have gone on pension, because it wouldn't move faster than a snail). More like dragging the poor thing with Aidan bouncing on top - but we did get a lot of cantoring in and Courtney and I raced ahead. This was my first time ever on an Arabian, and boy what a dream! There is a reason why they are bred for the desert and endurance! Strong, yet smooth, powerful and elegant at the same time, my horse just flew over the sand. Not sure what its name was....Solanca Bin Something......

It was a lovely afternoon, perfect temperature, though sandy (duh!) and Aidan even asked if we could do it again! After the hack we enjoyed a light snack in the polo club and we felt very important as we sat there and sipped wine and soda, while watching all the riders in the school arena, jumping and dressaging around.

One might be tempted to sell the boat and buy a horse (glad Aric doesn't read the blog so often :) but with annual fees in the thousands of dollars, just to have the horse stored in livery, it gets too crazy. I think I'll stick to the occasional desert hack and lesson, when the horsey urge pops up.

The get-away ski weekend that.....got away!

The powerful bomb went off in the street between the St. George Yacht & Marina Hotel and a hotel across from it, leaving both buildings gutted beyond repair. Nothing was left to chance, when 400 pounds of explosives blew a 10-foot crater in the street under the 8-car motorcade. All the windows of our hotel, The Phoenician, 100 meters away, were shattered and the firedoors were bowed in from the blast.

This was the horrific nightmare in Beirut, 2005, when Prime Minister Rafiq Hariri and 22 other people were killed in a truck bombing on February 14. You can see on the picture above (from ABC news at the time), it was a huge blast in a normally peaceful city.

Aric and I were in Beirut last weekend and saw little evidence of the shattered windows in the very hotel Phoenicia where we stayed. Thousands of people rallied to commemorate the 5 year anniversary and marched right in front of our hotel, to the memorial of the president's tomb at the sea front.

There seemed to be no hostility when we were there, only joy and cheer and people who want to remind the world that progress - not succumbance - is the way forward, towards peace. We talked to several people throughout our visit; the story was the same: they want to move on - having suffered through 16 years of war, then peace for a few years, only to then experience a setback when the assassination occurred, people our age and younger, live each day like it is their last. The Lebanese love to have a good time and party, yet many are of the opinion that a war will start again in June, with Israel. One shopkeeper who invited us in for "real Lebanese coffee" (i.e. liquid mud) told us in a thick Arab accent: "Yanni (Arab expression for "like, you know"); "yanni, we just leeve day to day - hrow we know what hrappen later?" Yallah, indeed, how do you know? There is a huge drive by the Lebanese themselves, to rebuild the city. All the bullet and mortar-ridden, debilitated buildings are being torn down and replaced with beautiful new architecture, kept in the Lebanese style from the early turn of the 20th century.

Walking around the city, you would not believe a war might break out in June. Everything seems so peaceful. It is of course policed....there is military on nearly every corner. Tanks, soldiers with loaded big a** rifles. I snug a few pictures, when able, but you don't want to do that in the open! They are very strict about photo taking of military patrols.

The previous war had to do with Shiites vs. Sunnis and Hezbolla is somewhere in the mix of Syria backed politicians. Same old story - muslims vs. muslims vs. Christians vs. Jews.....Few people know who are the good guys and who are the bad, but we only saw upbeat and positive attitudes from the people we met. "Wherrr arrrr you frrrrom, welcome to Lebanon!!" was the common greeting we received everywhere.

The getaway ski weekend had been planned for a few months. Our friends Fiona and Angus were headed over to Beirut to ski with a group of 10-12 people, so we took the opportunity to join for what was certain to be a fun filled long weekend. Fiona told me to book the 5-star Intercontinental (I let my fingers do the walking on the keyboard and quickly found that one....super Expedia deal with airfare and hotel suite) - and was excited when she confirmed that the ski lift was right outside the back of the hotel. It was only 3 days before we left Dubai, when Aric said he looked at our hotel online and he couldn't understand how the lift could be so close, when we overlook the sea? To my horror, there are two 5-star Intercontinentals in Beirut...the Phoenicia downtown and the big chalet in Mzaar mountain resort. Who knew?? Too late to change, we instead booked a one-day ski package, with transfer from downtown, to the resort an hour away. In hindsight, probably not bad that I booked the wrong hotel, as the snow from a storm 2 weeks prior, had nearly disappeared. To add insult to injury, only two lifts out of 12 were open due to high winds. But, we got several runs in before I - too bored - decided to hit the bar/lounge/pub. Skiing in the Middle East is very surreal, I mean here we are, 40km from the Mediterranean Ocean and on one day in shorts and tank top, the next day in Ugg boots and ski jacket! Aric snowboarded a few more hours and then we just gave ourselves over to a few bottles of wine with Angus and Fiona. Turned out to be a fab ski day :)

The whole weekend was just what Aric's doctor recommended. City-seeing, window shopping, trying new Lebanese cuisine, long cafe breaks, looking at all the homes and apartment buildings with artillery holes in the walls, trying to imagine how it would have been to live through such nightmare. At night, enjoying the bars and clubs and people watching. The churches and mosques are magnificent and several are built upon three layers, telling the tale of just how old (and deep) the city really is. We got a lot of selfish relaxing and reading time in and Valentine's Day with my Habibi could not have been better.

Slim & the boys were well behaved and responsible while we were gone. No out-of-hand parties (that we can find evidence of) - no drunk Slim and the pre-made 'ready to cook dinners by mom' were all gone, so at least they ate!

Next get-away destination looks to be Istanbul, after Easter some time. It's another city waiting to be explored by the Aults.

Sandbox Success!

Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates are investing & buying land in Sudan, Nigeria, and Ethiopia and other poverty stricken African nations, to fertilize farmland for sustained agriculture. Because they can't grow any significant vegetables in their own sandy countries, everything has to be imported (expensive). If they plant significant crops in Africa, on land owned by the Saudis and Emiratis, they can set their own pricing as well as help sustain the crops for the Africans. It makes sense, but it dowsn't help us get tomatoes from Sudan at the moment. So, determined to fight the hostile and very dusty environment here, and with a spirit as fierce as the old Pioneers who tamed the Wild West; I’ve started an herb garden in the sandbox (literally!) The owners of our house built a sandbox for their toddlers and rather than look at that desert in the back yard, I took some action.

Eight bags of the finest imported German and Dutch black potting soil, mixed with the finest red Arabian sand for proper drainage, and Voila! Cherry tomatoes, radishes, egg plant, green and chilli peppers, bok choy, basil, mint, onions and sun flowers now peek through the dirt. It’s amazing – growing veggies in the desert!

Hunter has become inspired by my work. He told me, he is going to get a double degree in biology and psychology, so he can start his own herbology firm, specializing in using herbs to cure mental health diseases. This sounds very noble! To start his field research, he plans to grow herbs in my sandbox (this was after I shot down his Japanese rock and waterfall garden idea) – but I fear that this could potentially involve the kind of herbs, the local law enforcement authorities might not consider healing. My advice to Hunter was that either he plants legal herbs, or he moves to Oregon, joins a commune and above all, doesn’t drink his own Kool-Aid.

I certainly applaud his entrepreneur spirit, but I must say, he tends to walk the edge of ethics sometime. We don't knock ingenuity however, we'd like to stay here a few more years!

My gardener, Ashram, helps me keep the Herb Box watered and free of weeds while I travel. He also cuts our grass, with the community lawn mower. This is a great and green concept. Rather than each family owning a lawn mower, all the gardeners share one machine and haul it around the neigborhood behind their bicycles. It saves on noise and exhaust as well as capital expenditure of home appliances.

Stay tuned to see the progress of our home grown produce!

How bizarre, how bizarre!

Yellow vaccination cards, uniformed guards in flip-flops and hair dryers without air hoses? Yes, I’m back in wonderful, hot, humid Nigeria!
Our blog followers will recall my last trip to Lagos was spent “researching the local hospital system” up close and personal, as I had the privilege of contracting food poison and suspected malaria. So far so good this week….I’ve stayed away from the salad and had a bottle of beer instead of the water. One never knows what to expect travelling in rural Africa.

Those of you who know my sordid past – my brush with a life of crime and my blatant disrespect for America’s finest law enforcement officers – are aware I am allergic to rules and authority…(who? Pia?) So when I was greeted by a gauntlet of Nigerian officials appearing to be Medical Staff, asking for my “yellow card”, it’s probably no surprise that the hair on my neck stood up.

This comes in the wake of credit card fraud, from the on-line Nigerian Immigration Service, when I applied for my visa. Two weeks after paying “securely" with an encrypted Google check out method, my card details were obviously copied and compromised. I suddenly found myself paying for several additional South African visa applications, along with computer gear from “NGB Computer Services” totalling several $1000’s. So my view of Nigeria continues to disintegrate.

As it happens, I didn’t have a yellow card. Nor did the Embassy or immigration service state anything about needing such a card for entry. I’m aware of malaria and yellow fever, but I firmly believe that if you get the jab, you get the disease. So, I was not getting a stinking vaccination! Ten other passengers apparently were of the same conviction and we were quickly singled out and retained in a corner. Tired, sweating and impatient, I asked the main guy in a white uniform what we were waiting for. He patiently told me that we were waiting for all the other passengers (who were dumb enough to get jabbed and pay for the yellow card) to proceed like good little sheep, and then we would be dealt with.

35 minutes later he explained to the rebels (of which I by now had been elected leader) that the yellow card was a “legal and international official card proving we had gotten a vaccination against yellow fever". So I asked him if he was scared of us bringing yellow fever in, or getting fever while we were here and then bring it out. He said we would certainly get yellow fever while here unless we had a card. Amazing, a piece of paper can protect you against diseases!!

I told him it was totally illogical for their Embassy not to require this vaccination in order to get the visa, so “how official could it really be”? The good doctor didn’t like that statement. He said we must all come with him to a quarantine room, where we would be vaccinated -- for a fee. Sounded like an invitation to the gas chamber, so I politely declined. He didn’t like this either. He got very loud at this point, yelling that he was doing his job as a medical official and that I should be kind enough to go downstairs with the other rebels to get [the] shot. I repeated my argument that if this was SO important – then his embassy people should have said so upon issuing the visa. He yelled back that we must go down and get the shot and pay. To which I replied, “so it’s all about money!!” Oh boy, Dr. Evil did NOT like that! He immediately emphasized that he had not mentioned “bribe” – I told him, neither had I…!

By now, I was confused…so was my fellow Cisco mate, Yasir. Did we have to pay to get a yellow fever shot? Or to get the yellow card? Or both? Either way, it sounded fishy and I told him so! At this point, Doctor Evil divided and [nearly] conquered, by shoving his Madam Medical Officer my way to see if she could get me to reason. I gave her the evil “don’t mess with me lady”- look, so she whispered something in Dr. Evil’s ear and shortly thereafter he told us all we were free to go through to immigration. Unbelievable!! Several Chinese passengers ended up paying him $25 to pass, but Yasir and I walked through as the only non-payers. Hey – if we pay bribes, then the corruption never ends, as far as I’m concerned. Bloody crooks! To top it off, all the Immigration officers wore flip flops! FLIP FLOPS!!?? Can you imagine arriving at O’Hare or Heathrow airports and seeing uniformed immigration officers – in FLIP FLOPS??

The rest of my trip was smooth and uneventful. The built-in hair dryer lacked an air hose....WHO steals an airhose? ... so it was really difficult to blow-dry my hair, standing so close up against the wall….Oh well, it beats 4 days in the hospital!