Tuesday, December 23, 2008
A gritty affair
Indy 500; Le Mans; F1 racing; NASCAR; Talladega nights.....folks, nothing beats the Hattan Mountains Desert FJ dunebashing event!
We have our very own "Ricky Bobby" aka Aric McLaren Ault, right here in Dubai and this photo-journalist was on location to try out the Dune Bashing craze for herself. Armed with a sick-bag and a camera I buckled up in the front seat, after doing significant "prep-work" such as: letting air out of the tires so you can actually manuevre in the sand and not get stuck, spending 30 minutes walking around the other FJs to see what new and unnecessary accessories people had put on their cars since the last outing, and just having general 'FJ' talk.
Before meeting up with all the other 'FJ heads' at a gas station near the undisclosed entry to the desert dunes, I had considerable queries about what one might wear to such an outing. It would obviously be warm during the day and cooler at night as the sun set, so layers seemed appropriate; getting in and out of the car, one should probably opt for capri pants, thereby also allowing for feet sinking into the sand. As for feet - flip flops that could be kicked off at any given moment provided the best flexibility. Totally decked out in the correct attire I was excited about the desert trip.
It was an amazing sight to be 2nd in line, looking back at the FJs behind us on the road forming a regular convoy! Something quite militant and parade-like about that line-up! It took us a while (and a couple of U-turns) to find the right entrance to the desert. You can't just drive off the road and start duning! There are fences along most stretches of desert and cattle grit to prevent camels from wandering out on the road. So when we finally found the right spot, we all drove in and lined up to perform the air procedures.
To do proper dunebashing, you must also have the tunes to go with it. I brought my iPOD and set it to the "jammin" play list, and Bob Marley joined us for most of the sandy affair. Finally, after performing a few donuts in the sand, we were all ready to follow the leader and head towards the innermost precious of dunes which are not for the light hearted. There is no real system or rules. As I pointed out in a previous blog - there are no roads, road signs or camel warnings. You simply take on the dune at the highest point and ride along the ridge until you can get down where the dune ends before the next crest. And you never go into the bowl of the dune or you will sink in and get stuck.
Despite the 'shake and bake' and trying to hang on for dear life, I managed to snap some rather rich action shots along the way. As the day progressed, traffic in the desert increased and we had to watch and weave amongst dirt bikes, quad runners, mad max looking sand buggies and other 4 wheel monsters - not to mention the locals who decide to have a picnic in the middle of the dunes! After 3 hours of fuel burning, sand wiggling tail spinning, we experienced a magnificant sunset and with that, called it a day. I didn't get to drive but I have had a seed planted and will certainly go out again for some Talladega Days in the desert. Still gritting my teeth from all the sand I brought home - but well worth the trip!
Monday, December 22, 2008
CSI Sharjah
Life is starting to resemble normality again in the Ault family. Three months in temporary accommodations - even with daily housekeeping, bottled water delivery and chocolate on your pillow - just does not compare to your own nesting grounds. You know you are home when Cable TV has been fully installed. The hotel offered many perks but channel selection wasn't one of them! Much as I love to follow politics and world news, even I grew tired of CNN and Al Jazeera (Arabia's version of CBS I think ;-) and after the US election coverage, the Thai protests and Mumbai massacre, I crave empty and mindless sitcoms and series. Even an old Steven Seagall movie would rock my world right about now.
In the UK I was admittedly a slave to "CSI Fridays" - nothing better after a long week than to pop myself on the couch with a glass of wine and be indulged by 3-in-a-row, CSI Vegas, Miami and NY. Oh, how I miss Horatio's world class one-liners "That, Frank, is what we are about to find out" while he (as ONLY he can) took off, or put on - depending on the seriousness of the crime - his designer action sunglasses!
It was therefore with great pleasure, after ensuring that Aric ordered the right movie package, that I lunged myself into the corner of the couch Friday night to investigate what the programs had to offer. Aric's constant comments in the background - about "how small the TV looks in the large living room" - clearly planting seeds that we should upgrade the 42 inch to a 50 inch, were conveniently tuned out and just faded when I saw that CSI NY was on the menu.
I skipped to the kitchen like a happy 6-year-old and eagerly grabbed a fine, rare red wine. NOT rare as in some posh un-pronounceable French vintage bottle....no, RARE as in "we don't have a liquor license yet, so cannot buy alcohol in Dubai and I can only bring in 1-2 bottles every time I travel", so this is a rare commodity - only to be savoured under very special circumstances. CSI NY was definitely such an occasion.
I clicked on the channel, raised the glass slowly to my lips, already tasting this full-bodied bouquet of slightly fruity, yet edgy, silky smooth elecsir, as the familiar Who song blasted from the TV speakers (we do not have surround sound yet, much to Aric's dismay), and then I froze!
The remote in my left hand, wine glass in the right, lips slightly parted, eyes wide open - I was paralyzed when Gary Sinise said "م التعريف, ال التعريف ريسة, ضحية, قتيل " or "Al haramsha burj marak umm suqueim" (or losely translated into English - "the victim died from multiple gunshots") -- what was that all about?? There is no Arabic in CSI! Mentally I was just flung back 30 years to my childhood TV experience in Denmark, when all our German TV channels showed American movies dubbed in Deutsch. You cannot have John Wayne speak German so ergo, Gary Sinise speaking Arabic is as much a faux pas!
"Yalla, Aric come here" I shouted, (Yalla being a Arabic catch-all word for "hurry up, come on" and many other meanings) - I wanted an explanation and fast! Turns out we have one Showtime channel from Sharjah (neighbor Emirate) which broadcasts all US shows in Arabic. Sex and the City, Desparate House wives, Friends, Seinfeld, Lost...all the actors have been taken secret Arabic lessons so this particular Emirate population can watch without struggling with English! Well, that's just dandy - so now I have to review all the TV times to find the one channel which has all the shows in plain English, including my beloved CSI!
In the UK I was admittedly a slave to "CSI Fridays" - nothing better after a long week than to pop myself on the couch with a glass of wine and be indulged by 3-in-a-row, CSI Vegas, Miami and NY. Oh, how I miss Horatio's world class one-liners "That, Frank, is what we are about to find out" while he (as ONLY he can) took off, or put on - depending on the seriousness of the crime - his designer action sunglasses!
It was therefore with great pleasure, after ensuring that Aric ordered the right movie package, that I lunged myself into the corner of the couch Friday night to investigate what the programs had to offer. Aric's constant comments in the background - about "how small the TV looks in the large living room" - clearly planting seeds that we should upgrade the 42 inch to a 50 inch, were conveniently tuned out and just faded when I saw that CSI NY was on the menu.
I skipped to the kitchen like a happy 6-year-old and eagerly grabbed a fine, rare red wine. NOT rare as in some posh un-pronounceable French vintage bottle....no, RARE as in "we don't have a liquor license yet, so cannot buy alcohol in Dubai and I can only bring in 1-2 bottles every time I travel", so this is a rare commodity - only to be savoured under very special circumstances. CSI NY was definitely such an occasion.
I clicked on the channel, raised the glass slowly to my lips, already tasting this full-bodied bouquet of slightly fruity, yet edgy, silky smooth elecsir, as the familiar Who song blasted from the TV speakers (we do not have surround sound yet, much to Aric's dismay), and then I froze!
The remote in my left hand, wine glass in the right, lips slightly parted, eyes wide open - I was paralyzed when Gary Sinise said "م التعريف, ال التعريف ريسة, ضحية, قتيل " or "Al haramsha burj marak umm suqueim" (or losely translated into English - "the victim died from multiple gunshots") -- what was that all about?? There is no Arabic in CSI! Mentally I was just flung back 30 years to my childhood TV experience in Denmark, when all our German TV channels showed American movies dubbed in Deutsch. You cannot have John Wayne speak German so ergo, Gary Sinise speaking Arabic is as much a faux pas!
"Yalla, Aric come here" I shouted, (Yalla being a Arabic catch-all word for "hurry up, come on" and many other meanings) - I wanted an explanation and fast! Turns out we have one Showtime channel from Sharjah (neighbor Emirate) which broadcasts all US shows in Arabic. Sex and the City, Desparate House wives, Friends, Seinfeld, Lost...all the actors have been taken secret Arabic lessons so this particular Emirate population can watch without struggling with English! Well, that's just dandy - so now I have to review all the TV times to find the one channel which has all the shows in plain English, including my beloved CSI!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!
Among the construction noise, the constant "beep, beep, beep, beep" when trucks reverse and the cranes hauling large pieces of new buildings right above and across your head,
there is a sense of excitement and anticipation in Dubai and certainly in the Ault family.
Much to my delight, I walked in to a Hallmark store to get wrapping paper and I walked out with $100 worth of postage stamps! All my pent-up frustration and near mental breakdown all seemed to flow right out of me when the clerk said "yes, how many would you like?" - I nearly kissed him but then thought better of it as I don't want to become tomorrow's news: "Danish woman arrested for molesting innocent store manager with kisses. Faces 4 years in jail and permanent deportation!" Let's just say that nearly getting kicked out of Disney World 15 years ago for drunk and disorderly behavior is enough of a deterrant for this mother of 2!
Instead I paid, packed up my wad of stamps and started licking away on their backs so I could get my 52 cards to friends and family before the 24th. The next hurdle of course was finding a mailbox but lady luck was on my side. As I exited the mall I found the most beautiful red box mounted on the wall. It was so identical to the Danish mailboxes I thought for a minute I was in Copenhagen! Our friend Nicole had warned me of posting things in the mailbox next to Ibn Batutta Mall, because it is mounted on a wall, at the end of a dead-end road, where a building is under construction and absolutely no car, bicycle or man will ever reach it to empty the contents. Her mother's birthday card has been sitting in that box since August and will sit there until they finish the building and re-open the road!
There was a big sense of relief when I let go of all the envelope and heard the thumps - confident that this box, at the Mall of Emirates, is emptied regularly. Whether it makes it out of Dubai to the rest of the world is not my problem now - I have done my duty of writing and mailing! Merry Christmas every one!
The spirit is with us here now - I feel it. While I was laying on the lounge chair upstairs on the roof, wiggling my toes in the [very cold] pool (Aric hasn't found the heater switch yet), I was thinking of how I can make it a special Season for the boys without all the hoopla and usual Christmas traditions. Because let's face it - having 24 degrees Celsius and sunshine in December is not the norm for this viking lady. If it isn't dark at 3.30pm with a dash of stinging icy rain and your toes aren't near frostbite stage, then it doesn't feel like Christmas. Yet somehow George Michaels' "Last Christmas I gave you my Heart...." playing in our building elevator and every store in Dubai, makes it feel so familiar and heart warming. Yesterday I went to our Cisco 'Ladies only' Christmas dinner and came home with my secret santa gift: scented candles with sandalwood - and I inhale this holiday scent while I write today's blog. It has inspired me to at least decorate the dining room table! I may throw a light or two in the mini palm tree on the balcony and the Rudolf chocolate reindeer has his spot next to the bowl of orange cinnamon potpourri on the buffet. Christmas eve we will have a nice quiet dinner (Hunter has ordered steaks and double baked potatoes) and there will be a few presents under the palm tree.
Dubai twinkles in the night - Aric and I have seen it from our bed, looking out as far as we can from the 19th floor at 2 am, to the suburbs in the desert. It was romantic until he pointed out that the twinkles were in fact construction vehicles moving about with their yellow blinking warning lights on the roof. Then it became a game of "count the amount of vehicles on the roads" - we realized that while the expats sleep, Dubai continues to be built at an alarmingly fast rate by imported labor who work in shifts, 24/7. Between midnite and 6 am nearly all roads are dominated by construction vehicles. We hope that on the one night, for Christmas, even the trucks will be silent in the night and we can enjoy the view of real twinkling lights.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Going Postal
Those of you who have followed the blog and seen my comments on Facebook know I am really struggling with the whole postal system here. Today I wanted to mail all the Christmas cards I have taken the time to write. Aric and I have been in Al Karama the past few days - it's the older part of Dubai and has more furniture stores than you can shake a stick at. On our journey of looking for a bed and several rugs, we came across a section of Dubai that is nothing but "knock off stores" - but it's not just fake items....it's "genuine, grade A, fake" according to all the fine purveyors - purses, watches, belts, Diesel jeans etc. It just can't get any more genuine fake than that I think.
Scored the latest Chloe clutch purse in black patent leather, for $38 - now that's wealin' dealin'.
OK so back to the postal issue - in amongst the many furniture stores and market boutiques I eyed a "Central Dubai Post Office" building. Taking up an entire square city block I thought I had found the holy grail! Upon opening one of the many doors all I found, to my dismay, was rows and rows of private post office boxes. It was like a large locker room of PO boxes and empty halls. My steps were echoing out as I ventured through the rows only to dead end at every turn. Escaping the PO box maze I walked around to the back and finally found an entrance to a hall, where actual people were sitting behind counters, with scales and PC displays, looking like they may dispense of stamps. There were 21 counters but no directions to which counter offered what service and each counter had at least 20 people in line. I planted myself at counter 15 because it seemed to have a few less people than the rest. Half way through and 20 minutes later I realized I was in the mobile phone payment line. I asked a person in line where you could get stamps and he directed me to line 19. After another 15 minutes I found out that it was the National ID registration line. This is something we eventually have to register the entire family for, but that's a story for another blog. Finally I had a person tell me that line 21 was definitely the right one for getting stamps. Full of optimism I skipped and hopped over and joined the line. After another 20 minutes and no movement I realized that everyone ahead of me had at least 100 letters to mail. The postal guy was putting each letter through a meter machine, one at a time, 10 seconds for each....so I did a quick calculation of the other 10 guys in line, multiplied by the amount of envelopes they were holding and with my superb math skills I knew it would be another 48 minutes before I was at the front of the line. Having envelopes headed for US, UK and Denmark, I knew the person would get his meter confused and I was afraid of a postal meter meltdown. Instead I, myself, was now near a postal meltdown, with a rash and heart palputations starting over the sheer inefficiency of the Dubai mail system. Aric was calmly sitting on a bench doing mails using his handheld and I could not get eye contact. The hall started spinning and I wanted to scream "Does this seem efficient to you people???" In my mind I started formulating a letter to the Sheikh, suggesting a stamp dispensing machine and a number system like they have at the Ikea customer service counter - it works for crying out loud!
Near tears, I left the line defeated and joined a surprised Aric, who gently led me to the car, assuring me he would ask his boss to bring my letters to England next week on his business trip and would mail them from there. The Christmas cards will be sent I promise you! And not by camel or hot-air balloon but by British Airways Cargo!
The whole ordeal has shaken me to the core. My Scandinavian genetic organization and efficiency personality has been bruised. I'm not sure I can get used to living in a country which has the most state-of-the-art buildings yet a "pony-express" 1883 postal system. It's enough to make you go truly postal!
Scored the latest Chloe clutch purse in black patent leather, for $38 - now that's wealin' dealin'.
OK so back to the postal issue - in amongst the many furniture stores and market boutiques I eyed a "Central Dubai Post Office" building. Taking up an entire square city block I thought I had found the holy grail! Upon opening one of the many doors all I found, to my dismay, was rows and rows of private post office boxes. It was like a large locker room of PO boxes and empty halls. My steps were echoing out as I ventured through the rows only to dead end at every turn. Escaping the PO box maze I walked around to the back and finally found an entrance to a hall, where actual people were sitting behind counters, with scales and PC displays, looking like they may dispense of stamps. There were 21 counters but no directions to which counter offered what service and each counter had at least 20 people in line. I planted myself at counter 15 because it seemed to have a few less people than the rest. Half way through and 20 minutes later I realized I was in the mobile phone payment line. I asked a person in line where you could get stamps and he directed me to line 19. After another 15 minutes I found out that it was the National ID registration line. This is something we eventually have to register the entire family for, but that's a story for another blog. Finally I had a person tell me that line 21 was definitely the right one for getting stamps. Full of optimism I skipped and hopped over and joined the line. After another 20 minutes and no movement I realized that everyone ahead of me had at least 100 letters to mail. The postal guy was putting each letter through a meter machine, one at a time, 10 seconds for each....so I did a quick calculation of the other 10 guys in line, multiplied by the amount of envelopes they were holding and with my superb math skills I knew it would be another 48 minutes before I was at the front of the line. Having envelopes headed for US, UK and Denmark, I knew the person would get his meter confused and I was afraid of a postal meter meltdown. Instead I, myself, was now near a postal meltdown, with a rash and heart palputations starting over the sheer inefficiency of the Dubai mail system. Aric was calmly sitting on a bench doing mails using his handheld and I could not get eye contact. The hall started spinning and I wanted to scream "Does this seem efficient to you people???" In my mind I started formulating a letter to the Sheikh, suggesting a stamp dispensing machine and a number system like they have at the Ikea customer service counter - it works for crying out loud!
Near tears, I left the line defeated and joined a surprised Aric, who gently led me to the car, assuring me he would ask his boss to bring my letters to England next week on his business trip and would mail them from there. The Christmas cards will be sent I promise you! And not by camel or hot-air balloon but by British Airways Cargo!
The whole ordeal has shaken me to the core. My Scandinavian genetic organization and efficiency personality has been bruised. I'm not sure I can get used to living in a country which has the most state-of-the-art buildings yet a "pony-express" 1883 postal system. It's enough to make you go truly postal!
Monday, December 8, 2008
"May I see your Dune-Bashing license and registration, Sir?"
I thought I was safe from the parental worries that come with your kids learning to drive! The legal age here in Dubai is 18 and that should afford us nearly two more years before the stomach acid starts to eat away over Aidan getting behind a steering wheel. Boy was I wrong!
It doesn't help when Aric encourages the testosterone to surge through both boys, while they are climbing 50 foot sand dunes and racing around the middle of nowhere in his FJ-Cruiser.
My first un-official lesson was at 14 years of age, in my mom's 1969 Opel, on a dirt country road in Denmark - and I still managed to drive head first into a hedge! Both kids have now been out dune-bashing with Aric twice and they think they are the Schumachers of the Dubai desert. Lacking road, speed and camel signs, there is an element of risk when the car goes up over the dune edge, only to soar down on the other side. You can potentially hit the roof of another car - especially if it's a crowded bashing day. But most sand enthusiasts are part of a larger, more organized group and they watch out for eachother and also drive in a convoy. You don't want to bash alone...it's a long walk out if you get stuck in the soft, slick sand. I'm sure nobody is surprised to hear that Aric is already member of the sand-dune-bashing-FJ cruiser club!! Fellow car nerds can check out the site:
This obviously does not help Aidan and Hunter in the least when they eventually make it to the US and attempt to perform "urban 4-wheeling" on the University campus! Aarrghh I already feel the anxiety attack coming on just thinking about this!
It makes it no more comforting to know that their driving lessons - when they start in 2-3 years - most likely will be tought by "Sanjay and Ramesh" who probably learned to drive in New Delhi!
What's a mother to do??
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Good things come to those who wait!
We've moved on up....to the penthouse apartment in the sky! It's like "The Jeffersons" on steroids!
The place we had booked is still not finished and with a new date of mid-January, we just could not afford to wait any longer. While I was in the hospital in Nigeria, Aric and the boys got busy and did a super-charged home search - and landed a very sweet deal in the Dubai Marina. It's a 4 bedroom penthouse apartment on the 19th floor. Not only do we have the entire half of the top floor (and nobody lives in the place next door yet) but surprisingly we found that there is a private elevator in the living room, only leading to the roof, where there is a private pool and jacuzzi surrounded by a large patio.
Always having our priorities straight, we are of course trying to figure out where the Tiki Hut Bar and the lounge chairs should go! Plus taking bets on who will be the first friends to come and visit.
Meanwhile, we are now trying to make our way through the 238 boxes which were delivered on Thursday. You would think that after 7 moves in 9 years we would have a system down, but alas, we still run around looking for things that we "just saw in one of the boxes" shouting: "where was it that we put the extension cord...?"
Aidan and Hunter love the new digs. They are already making their personal marks with their snowboards mounted on the walls....we're in the desert and their main focus is on "Ski Dubai" indoor snowboarding activities! Aric and I are hunting for a new bed and some rugs. Our efforts are hampered by flooding - we would get farther if we had a canoe...it's been raining quite heavily for 4 days and Dubai has no drains except for at a few under/overpasses on the highway. It's like Florida being hit with a snowstorm - nobody knows how to drive in a few inches of water so everything comes to a standstill.
The place we had booked is still not finished and with a new date of mid-January, we just could not afford to wait any longer. While I was in the hospital in Nigeria, Aric and the boys got busy and did a super-charged home search - and landed a very sweet deal in the Dubai Marina. It's a 4 bedroom penthouse apartment on the 19th floor. Not only do we have the entire half of the top floor (and nobody lives in the place next door yet) but surprisingly we found that there is a private elevator in the living room, only leading to the roof, where there is a private pool and jacuzzi surrounded by a large patio.
Always having our priorities straight, we are of course trying to figure out where the Tiki Hut Bar and the lounge chairs should go! Plus taking bets on who will be the first friends to come and visit.
Meanwhile, we are now trying to make our way through the 238 boxes which were delivered on Thursday. You would think that after 7 moves in 9 years we would have a system down, but alas, we still run around looking for things that we "just saw in one of the boxes" shouting: "where was it that we put the extension cord...?"
Aidan and Hunter love the new digs. They are already making their personal marks with their snowboards mounted on the walls....we're in the desert and their main focus is on "Ski Dubai" indoor snowboarding activities! Aric and I are hunting for a new bed and some rugs. Our efforts are hampered by flooding - we would get farther if we had a canoe...it's been raining quite heavily for 4 days and Dubai has no drains except for at a few under/overpasses on the highway. It's like Florida being hit with a snowstorm - nobody knows how to drive in a few inches of water so everything comes to a standstill.
Last week was National Day - celebrating 37 years of the existence of United Arab Emirates. I liken it to the 4th of July Independence Day and man were the flags flying here....from every home, high rise and car window!
This week is Eid, yet another Muslim holiday or Prophet birthday and our office is closed for the next 4 days, affording us the time to get settled in the new place.
Phone, TV and internet will be installed when Eid is over and in the meantime Aric and I take daily walks to Starbucks so we can get our connection and java fix.
It doesn't feel like Christmas is upon us and with sun and temps still in the 80's (aside from the rainy nights) we aren't really running around singing Jingle Bells. But I did take the time to write cards yesterday. The challenge will be to find a post office and once stamps are secured, trying to get everything sent via airmail in time for the 24th, rather than via camel. Please do not be offended if our greetings do not reach you - I will take the opportunity here to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year - hoping that we will see lots of you in the near future. There will be a Margarita waiting by the poolside mama-sita.
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