Despite the fact that I have lived in Abu Dhabi for a year and a half, I am still discovering new things about the city that is my (temporary) home.
My journey of discovery has been helped along a great deal by the fact that first freelancing assignment has been for the city's premier tour guide. Apart from learning all about things within the city, I learnt a whole lot about the way the city works - especially the government agencies!
One of the first things I learnt was quite simply not to expect anything to be done immediately. Its considered rude to walk into someones office and start talking business straight away. Being hospitable and sociable are important parts of Arab culture, and building relationships is key.
One of my first appointments was with the Public Relations manager for the Abu Dhabi Municipality and Town Planning department. I sat down, and told him what I was looking for.
He stopped me, smiled, and said that I must have coffee first. He grinned, gave a gentle shrug of his shoulders, and said "Its the Arab way." Over the hot, aromatic Arabic coffee, we talked about the weather, about how long I had been in Abu Dhabi, and how grateful we were that we didn't have to face Dubai's incredible traffic.
We chatted about the importance of family, and how fantastic a place Abu Dhabi is to raise kids. Once the coffee and small talk were done, we got down to the business of business. By this time, we were both at ease with each other, and I got what I needed in no time at all.
I've decided I like this way of doing business, and I have discovered I quite like the Arabic coffee too, which is poured out of a special pot at great height. I've also discovered that business cards are important too - and I don't have any! Its an important exchange here, and my little pink PostIt notes with my details written on don't quite do it. An investment in business cards is required!
A fairly tricky issue for women in business is shaking hands. Traditionally this is a "male thing" and in the Islamic culture it would be highly inappropriate for a man to touch a woman he is not married to. And if I, as a women, offer my hand to be shaken, I might inadvertently embarrass or offend the person to whom it is proferred. He may just ignore my hand, or cover his hand with his sleeve so that he did not officially touch me. Or if he is used to Western women, would probably just shake my hand lightly.
I decided to take the "discreet" route. I would shake a man's hand if it was offered to me first (as it was on the odd occasion). I chose not to offer my hand to men, and instead stood up to greet, and developed this funny head bob instead! Accompanied by a big smile of course. I still am not sure what is appropriate, but at least I haven't caused any offence. After all, I may need to contact these people in the future.
Another thing to get used to is the whole "open door" thing. Doors are seldom shut, especially if a man is meeting with a woman. Though I've noticed that its not really as much to do with that as it is to do with hospitality and helpfulness. Interruptions are frequent, with people sailing in and out of a meeting room on a regular basis.
Occasionally I'd be introduced (cue head bob), but more often than not, our conversation would be paused while the other business (generally quick) was dealt with. Apparently this even happens in doctors offices! People will wander in without so much as a knock! It takes some getting used to, but as I said, relationships and hospitality are key in Arab culture, so you just deal with it.
Its been fun, though I reckon I still have a great deal to learn. And I look forward to learning it!
Showing posts with label Desert Notes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Desert Notes. Show all posts
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Desert Notes: Preparing for Ramadan
Ramadan is expected to begin this week in the UAE. Most people are not 100% sure exactly when it will be, as it is dependent on the sighting of the new moon. Generally, you can make an educated guess, and predict that it will begin around 11 days earlier than it did the year before. This year, that would make it on 4 October.
Except there will be an eclipse of the moon that night, making it impossible to see the new moon, so its likely to be on 5 October. We're waiting for the Ministry of Islamic Affairs to confirm, which will probably happen in the next day or so.
The weeks before Ramadan are frenetic, and the shops are crowded. Most Moslem families stock up now on the groceries they will need for the Iftar meals every evening (thats when the fast is broken). Its especially hectic for the wives and mothers, who try to prepare as many meals in advance as possible.
Iftar (which occurs at sunset) coincides with bedtime for many children, and its hard work to get everything done at once. One lady I met this week was frantically preparing samoosas. Not only does she make her own pastry (you can buy it frozen), she also prepares all the fillings, and then wraps and freezes them - and she was going to make about 100. Its quite complicated apparently. I am not sure of the technique, but I was given a taster and they sure are delicious!
The days are filled with coffee mornings, and gettogethers, as everyone tries to get in daytime socialising before Ramadan starts. You see, most restaurants, coffee shops and fast food outlets are closed during the day, and only open after Iftar.
Socialising during Ramadan is pretty much confined to the Iftar meals, which can go on long into the night. The Iftar meals are traditionally very social affairs, and large quantities of food are often required. Also, as part of the charity drive that happens around Ramadan, extra meals are prepared and given to those less fortunate.
The fast itself is broken at sunset with dates and milk or coffee. Traditions are often specific to cultures or countries - for example, in Jordan, dates are always eaten in sets of 3. I'm still learning about some of the other traditions.
As part of my own cultural learning programme, I'm on a mission to taste some of the regional delicacies that are likely to be served. So far, the only one whose name I can remember is Tabouleh, which is a salad of very finely chopped herbs, cucumber and tomato.
I have also tasted a baked chicken dish, which is cooked with whole roasted almonds, and served with a yoghurty lemon dressing. The mixed chickpea and rice dish is also a staple, used mostly as a side dish. Baked hammour (a local fish) is also popular.
Tahini and hummous are served on the side or as starters with fresh flat breads. The bread is torn into bits and the tahini or hummous is scooped up with the bread. After dinner, rich sweets (often called Iranian sweets) are served. The central ingredients are generally phyllo pastry, honey and roasted pistachio nuts. These have become a favourite of mine already. I promise to share more of the delicacies (and their names) as I learn more!
Except there will be an eclipse of the moon that night, making it impossible to see the new moon, so its likely to be on 5 October. We're waiting for the Ministry of Islamic Affairs to confirm, which will probably happen in the next day or so.
The weeks before Ramadan are frenetic, and the shops are crowded. Most Moslem families stock up now on the groceries they will need for the Iftar meals every evening (thats when the fast is broken). Its especially hectic for the wives and mothers, who try to prepare as many meals in advance as possible.
Iftar (which occurs at sunset) coincides with bedtime for many children, and its hard work to get everything done at once. One lady I met this week was frantically preparing samoosas. Not only does she make her own pastry (you can buy it frozen), she also prepares all the fillings, and then wraps and freezes them - and she was going to make about 100. Its quite complicated apparently. I am not sure of the technique, but I was given a taster and they sure are delicious!
The days are filled with coffee mornings, and gettogethers, as everyone tries to get in daytime socialising before Ramadan starts. You see, most restaurants, coffee shops and fast food outlets are closed during the day, and only open after Iftar.
Socialising during Ramadan is pretty much confined to the Iftar meals, which can go on long into the night. The Iftar meals are traditionally very social affairs, and large quantities of food are often required. Also, as part of the charity drive that happens around Ramadan, extra meals are prepared and given to those less fortunate.
The fast itself is broken at sunset with dates and milk or coffee. Traditions are often specific to cultures or countries - for example, in Jordan, dates are always eaten in sets of 3. I'm still learning about some of the other traditions.
As part of my own cultural learning programme, I'm on a mission to taste some of the regional delicacies that are likely to be served. So far, the only one whose name I can remember is Tabouleh, which is a salad of very finely chopped herbs, cucumber and tomato.
I have also tasted a baked chicken dish, which is cooked with whole roasted almonds, and served with a yoghurty lemon dressing. The mixed chickpea and rice dish is also a staple, used mostly as a side dish. Baked hammour (a local fish) is also popular.
Tahini and hummous are served on the side or as starters with fresh flat breads. The bread is torn into bits and the tahini or hummous is scooped up with the bread. After dinner, rich sweets (often called Iranian sweets) are served. The central ingredients are generally phyllo pastry, honey and roasted pistachio nuts. These have become a favourite of mine already. I promise to share more of the delicacies (and their names) as I learn more!
Desert Notes: The Language of Culture
Over the last year or so, I have been fortunate enough to meet people from around the world, including Japan, Pakistan, India, Jordan, France, USA, Australia and Syria amongst others.
Our language of conversation is English, though in bigger groups you will hear smatterings of Japanese, French, Urdu, Arabic and occasionally even Afrikaans! Our kids all play together happily, and their language of conversation is English. Just English.
While Arabic may be the official language of the UAE, English is widely spoken, and is pretty essential for business dealings. We are all happy that our children are learning English, and are playing together using English.
But there is a sprinkling of sadness. For with the loss of their home languages, comes a certain loss of culture.
A Japanese mom said to me recently that her daughter is talking less and less Japanese these days, and "thinks" in English. And while she encourages her child to speak Japanese at home, English is her daughter's language of choice.
A Pakistani mom, who was brought up in the UK, speaks Urdu, her home language, but has been unable to teach it to her children. Urdu is a complex language, and even she says she is losing the ability to understand it in its entirety.
Another Pakistani mom, whose children were educated in Canada, says that her children will never understand the beauty of Urdu poetry, as their understanding of the language is limited. They choose to speak English at home.
We are English-speaking South Africans, but I know two official languages. My daughter, when we return home, will only know one. She will also be completely fluent in Arabic, but that is not going to help her.
I would love to be able to teach her Afrikaans (which I know), or perhaps even Xhosa or Zulu. But I am not proficient enough in any of those to teach her, and when we come home, she may be at a disadvantage. I have never realised until now how intrinsically linked language and culture are. Intertwined, expressing thoughts, emotions, poetry, literature, tradition.
My daughter will not quite understand what "lekker" means, or what it means to say "aiesh." Words that are not English, but yet completely South African. When her teacher is sick, she's not ill, she's poorly. When she's cold, she needs a jumper, not a jersey. I am often "mum" and not "mom." My little one says "yeah" and not "ja."
While its great that our children, from all over the world, are able to converse freely and openly, in our expat environment, its also sad. That with a global language, comes a loss of local colour.
Our language of conversation is English, though in bigger groups you will hear smatterings of Japanese, French, Urdu, Arabic and occasionally even Afrikaans! Our kids all play together happily, and their language of conversation is English. Just English.
While Arabic may be the official language of the UAE, English is widely spoken, and is pretty essential for business dealings. We are all happy that our children are learning English, and are playing together using English.
But there is a sprinkling of sadness. For with the loss of their home languages, comes a certain loss of culture.
A Japanese mom said to me recently that her daughter is talking less and less Japanese these days, and "thinks" in English. And while she encourages her child to speak Japanese at home, English is her daughter's language of choice.
A Pakistani mom, who was brought up in the UK, speaks Urdu, her home language, but has been unable to teach it to her children. Urdu is a complex language, and even she says she is losing the ability to understand it in its entirety.
Another Pakistani mom, whose children were educated in Canada, says that her children will never understand the beauty of Urdu poetry, as their understanding of the language is limited. They choose to speak English at home.
We are English-speaking South Africans, but I know two official languages. My daughter, when we return home, will only know one. She will also be completely fluent in Arabic, but that is not going to help her.
I would love to be able to teach her Afrikaans (which I know), or perhaps even Xhosa or Zulu. But I am not proficient enough in any of those to teach her, and when we come home, she may be at a disadvantage. I have never realised until now how intrinsically linked language and culture are. Intertwined, expressing thoughts, emotions, poetry, literature, tradition.
My daughter will not quite understand what "lekker" means, or what it means to say "aiesh." Words that are not English, but yet completely South African. When her teacher is sick, she's not ill, she's poorly. When she's cold, she needs a jumper, not a jersey. I am often "mum" and not "mom." My little one says "yeah" and not "ja."
While its great that our children, from all over the world, are able to converse freely and openly, in our expat environment, its also sad. That with a global language, comes a loss of local colour.
Desert Notes: The Art of Henna
Henna has been used throughout the Middle East for centuries to decorate and beautify women, particularly their hands, feet and hair. I’ve been fascinated by the beauty of the designs since I arrived in the UAE.
During my parents recent tour of Abu Dhabi we visited the Women’s Handicrafts Centre. There are henna artists based at the Centre, and with a great deal of excitement, I had my hand “painted.”
The paste is made from the dried leaves of henna plant (Lawsonia Inermis) which are ground to a fine powder and mixed with water and other ingredients. Henna powder can be mixed with a variety of things - lemons, limes, black tea, coffee, rose petals, orange blossoms, essential oils, cloves, pomegranates, tamarind, okra, and sugar. Traditionally, ingredients such as lye, urea, yak or camel urine may be added to deepen the colour.
Fortunately for me, henna is most often mixed with water, lemon juice, tea or coffee these days, along with essential oils!
Once the mixture has reached the desired consistency, it is placed in what looks like a piping bag and squeezed gently on to your hand in delicate, intricate patterns.
The pattern the henna artist chose for me was a fairly simple one of vines, flowers and leaves, covering only part of my hand. It took only a few minutes for the skilled artist to complete her design. She never wavered or splashed. Her moves were decisive and skilled as she drew on the pattern with the paste.
Designs vary from region to region. According to my reading, the varying designs often mean different things to different cultures.
Arabic designs are generally large, floral patterns on the hands and feet. Indians traditionally use fine thin lines for lacy, floral, and paisley patterns which cover their entire hands, forearms, feet and shins. Africans and Native/South American Indians tend to prefer bold, large geometric designs.
The paste felt cool as it lay on my skin. Initially the paste is black in colour, but as it dries, it becomes lighter in colour. It is painless, but as it dries it tingles somewhat!
The longer the paste is left on the hand, the darker the stain, and the longer it is likely to last.
The paste dried on my skin, and after about 2-3 hours it started flaking off, leaving behind an orange stain. Over the next 48 hours the orange darkens to become brown, and gradually begins to fade over the next week or so.
In some regions, the henna paste designs are covered for up to 6 hours and are kept warm. This apparently also aids in keeping the design on your skin for much longer.
I was delighted with the results, and every time I look at my hand I smile! It really does look pretty and feminine, and I think I will do this again!
My elation led me to read up on the subject, and I found out that henna has other properties, other than as a skin and hair dye. Henna has been found by modern scientists to be antibacterial, anti-fungal, and anti-hemorrhagic. Henna is useful is healing athlete's foot, fungal skin infections, and local inflammation. The leaves and seeds of the plant possess medicinal properties. They both act as cooling agents for the head and body. Henna is applied to burns and scrapes and is often used to treat heat exhaustion and to bring down the fever of a sick person. Henna provides a complete sunblock.
With these additional properties, it is no wonder that the Prophet Mohammed supported the use of henna as a medical aid, and as a method of beautifying women’s hands and feet.
In the UAE, henna is often reserved for special occasions, especially weddings. In preparation for her wedding, the bride is anointed with all sorts of traditional oils and perfumes from head to toe. Her body is rubbed with cleansing and conditioning oils and creams. Her hands and feet are decorated with henna and the hair is washed with extracts of amber and jasmine. She is fed only the best foods and her girlfriends prepare the best dishes which they share with her. Fine pieces of jewellery, perfumes, silk materials and other items are presented to her by the groom, from which she creates her elaborate trousseau called ‘Addahbia.’
The night before the wedding is the ‘Night of Henna’ or ‘Laylat Al Henna.’ The henna night is a time for all the bride’s sisters, female family members, and girlfriends to get together and celebrate the occasion. All female family members and guests also decorate their hands with henna.
Henna parties are also held during the year, especially around the time of religious festivals. Apart from the opportunity to have the henna designs done, it also provides the opportunity to sit, chat and relax. An Arabian-style “girls night out” if you will!
I know the room in which we had our henna designs done was filled with ladies chatting and laughing. I definitely think I could do this more often!
During my parents recent tour of Abu Dhabi we visited the Women’s Handicrafts Centre. There are henna artists based at the Centre, and with a great deal of excitement, I had my hand “painted.”
The paste is made from the dried leaves of henna plant (Lawsonia Inermis) which are ground to a fine powder and mixed with water and other ingredients. Henna powder can be mixed with a variety of things - lemons, limes, black tea, coffee, rose petals, orange blossoms, essential oils, cloves, pomegranates, tamarind, okra, and sugar. Traditionally, ingredients such as lye, urea, yak or camel urine may be added to deepen the colour.
Fortunately for me, henna is most often mixed with water, lemon juice, tea or coffee these days, along with essential oils!
Once the mixture has reached the desired consistency, it is placed in what looks like a piping bag and squeezed gently on to your hand in delicate, intricate patterns.
The pattern the henna artist chose for me was a fairly simple one of vines, flowers and leaves, covering only part of my hand. It took only a few minutes for the skilled artist to complete her design. She never wavered or splashed. Her moves were decisive and skilled as she drew on the pattern with the paste.
Designs vary from region to region. According to my reading, the varying designs often mean different things to different cultures.
Arabic designs are generally large, floral patterns on the hands and feet. Indians traditionally use fine thin lines for lacy, floral, and paisley patterns which cover their entire hands, forearms, feet and shins. Africans and Native/South American Indians tend to prefer bold, large geometric designs.
The paste felt cool as it lay on my skin. Initially the paste is black in colour, but as it dries, it becomes lighter in colour. It is painless, but as it dries it tingles somewhat!
The longer the paste is left on the hand, the darker the stain, and the longer it is likely to last.
The paste dried on my skin, and after about 2-3 hours it started flaking off, leaving behind an orange stain. Over the next 48 hours the orange darkens to become brown, and gradually begins to fade over the next week or so.
In some regions, the henna paste designs are covered for up to 6 hours and are kept warm. This apparently also aids in keeping the design on your skin for much longer.
I was delighted with the results, and every time I look at my hand I smile! It really does look pretty and feminine, and I think I will do this again!
My elation led me to read up on the subject, and I found out that henna has other properties, other than as a skin and hair dye. Henna has been found by modern scientists to be antibacterial, anti-fungal, and anti-hemorrhagic. Henna is useful is healing athlete's foot, fungal skin infections, and local inflammation. The leaves and seeds of the plant possess medicinal properties. They both act as cooling agents for the head and body. Henna is applied to burns and scrapes and is often used to treat heat exhaustion and to bring down the fever of a sick person. Henna provides a complete sunblock.
With these additional properties, it is no wonder that the Prophet Mohammed supported the use of henna as a medical aid, and as a method of beautifying women’s hands and feet.
In the UAE, henna is often reserved for special occasions, especially weddings. In preparation for her wedding, the bride is anointed with all sorts of traditional oils and perfumes from head to toe. Her body is rubbed with cleansing and conditioning oils and creams. Her hands and feet are decorated with henna and the hair is washed with extracts of amber and jasmine. She is fed only the best foods and her girlfriends prepare the best dishes which they share with her. Fine pieces of jewellery, perfumes, silk materials and other items are presented to her by the groom, from which she creates her elaborate trousseau called ‘Addahbia.’
The night before the wedding is the ‘Night of Henna’ or ‘Laylat Al Henna.’ The henna night is a time for all the bride’s sisters, female family members, and girlfriends to get together and celebrate the occasion. All female family members and guests also decorate their hands with henna.
Henna parties are also held during the year, especially around the time of religious festivals. Apart from the opportunity to have the henna designs done, it also provides the opportunity to sit, chat and relax. An Arabian-style “girls night out” if you will!
I know the room in which we had our henna designs done was filled with ladies chatting and laughing. I definitely think I could do this more often!
Desert Notes: On Tour in Abu Dhabi
Everyone has heard of Dubai. Everyone knows it’s an excellent place to shop, and that there is plenty to see. The only thing many people know about Abu Dhabi however is that Garfield used to threaten to mail Nermal there on a regular basis.
Even once you’ve explained where Abu Dhabi is, people still wonder whether it is worth a visit. It is. I’ve just spent a month playing tour guide to parents, and have discovered there is plenty to see and do.
First up simply has to be the shopping. There are lovely big malls with brand name shops that we South Africans have only ever heard about. There are the mini-malls squashed in between other buildings that offer all sorts of little treasures. Like the souvenir shops in the centre opposite Abu Dhabi Mall. Not really that amazing looking from the street, but literally has an Aladdin’s cave of goodies for the tourist!
And talking of treasures, you simply have to visit the Madinat Zayed Gold Market. It is literally a mall filled with jewellery stores of every size and description. “Just looking” is really hard…..
Apart from the malls there are also the traditional markets. The Iranian souk, the Fish Market, the Central Market, the Carpet souk are just some examples. My parents had a fantastic time bargaining with the carpet sellers, and came away very pleased with their purchase.
Unfortunately the souk in the city centre is undergoing reconstruction at the moment, and my parents missed their opportunity to bargain for everything from fake Rolex watches to beautiful fabrics from India.
Once you’ve had enough of the shopping options, you can take time out to get cultural. There are two heritage villages to visit in Abu Dhabi. The one at the Breakwater is really lovely, and the craftspeople are keen to take the time to demonstrate traditional skills. There is also a restaurant in the village where you can sit and relax and try out some regional specialities. I have no idea what I ate, but it was extremely delicious!
The Cultural Foundation has a lot to offer, with regular workshops, teaching everything from crafts to language skills. They have a regular programme of exhibitions from local and international artists and musicians, and the range is varied. Events are advertised in The Gulf News on a daily basis.
Just next door to the Cultural Foundation is the Old Fort (also known as the Al Husn Fort). This imposing whitewashed building is one of the oldest buildings in Abu Dhabi, and has a small museum.
Also of interest is the Women’s Handicraft Centre which forms part of the Abu Dhabi Women’s Association. It houses a small but well layed-out museum, and a souvenir shop where you can buy items made in the handicrafts centre. The little shop also offers you the opportunity to dress in traditional clothes and have your picture taken!
The handicrafts section is interesting, and demonstrates some of the traditional handiwork of Emirati women. If you are keen on having a henna tattoo done, this is an excellent place to give it a try.
Don’t forget to visit the Emirates Palace Hotel. Tours of the Palace are run four times every day, and advance booking is essential. Unless, of course, you can afford to stay as a guest!
For boating enthusiasts you can visit the dhow building works where you can see a traditional dhow being made.
If you are looking for some adventure, you could try a dhow cruise along the Corniche waterways. For those looking for a bit more of an adrenalin rush, you can go on a sunset desert trip, which includes some stomach turning dune riding in a 4x4, a visit to a camel farm, and a traditional meal at a Bedouin style camp. Overnight trips are also possible.
If you are just in the mood to relax, there are plenty of beaches, though it can get pretty hot. Spring and early summer is the best time. There private beaches run by the hotels, as well as public beaches, and a ladies-only beach.
There are also a number of beautiful parks and gardens which offer fantastic opportunities to picnic and play. Great for those with kids!
And if you are keen to travel a little further out (say an hour and a half out of Abu Dhabi), an excellent place to visit is Al Ain. Apart from being the birth place of Sheikh Zayed it has a beautiful oasis. There is a quiet little restaurant in the middle of the oasis, and although the service was slow, the food was excellent!
Al Ain also offers the fairly recently discovered Hot Springs, which is being developed into a fine holiday spot. The Hot Springs are nestled at the bottom of one of the Emirates highest mountains – Jebel Hafeet. If you are a cycling buff, it’s apparently a two to three hour uphill cycle, but a 45 min down ride! If you are less energetic, the road is excellent, and offers plenty of viewing sites where you can overlook everything from date palm plantations to wadis to dunes. Near the peak is the Jebel Hafeet hotel which offers a lovely view from their dining room. At the peak is a small shop and a spectacular view.
The Al Ain museum and fort are very interesting, and if you are an archeology buff, it has plenty of information on the various archeological sites in the UAE, as well as some history on the region itself.
One of the archeological sites mentioned at the museum is in Al Ain, and the Hili Archeological Gardens are nearby.
There is also a museum at the home of the late Sheik Zayed, which details his legacy and the development of the UAE.
If you are still keen to do some more exploring, and fancy seeing the Empty Quarter, Liwa Oasis is a five hour drive away. Excellent for campers and 4x4 enthusiasts.
If you’ve had enough of the Abu Dhabi emirate, you can always visit one of the other six. Plenty to do in all of them!
We’ve had fun being tour guides, and as I did, I ended up learning a great deal about our adopted home.
Even once you’ve explained where Abu Dhabi is, people still wonder whether it is worth a visit. It is. I’ve just spent a month playing tour guide to parents, and have discovered there is plenty to see and do.
First up simply has to be the shopping. There are lovely big malls with brand name shops that we South Africans have only ever heard about. There are the mini-malls squashed in between other buildings that offer all sorts of little treasures. Like the souvenir shops in the centre opposite Abu Dhabi Mall. Not really that amazing looking from the street, but literally has an Aladdin’s cave of goodies for the tourist!
And talking of treasures, you simply have to visit the Madinat Zayed Gold Market. It is literally a mall filled with jewellery stores of every size and description. “Just looking” is really hard…..
Apart from the malls there are also the traditional markets. The Iranian souk, the Fish Market, the Central Market, the Carpet souk are just some examples. My parents had a fantastic time bargaining with the carpet sellers, and came away very pleased with their purchase.
Unfortunately the souk in the city centre is undergoing reconstruction at the moment, and my parents missed their opportunity to bargain for everything from fake Rolex watches to beautiful fabrics from India.
Once you’ve had enough of the shopping options, you can take time out to get cultural. There are two heritage villages to visit in Abu Dhabi. The one at the Breakwater is really lovely, and the craftspeople are keen to take the time to demonstrate traditional skills. There is also a restaurant in the village where you can sit and relax and try out some regional specialities. I have no idea what I ate, but it was extremely delicious!
The Cultural Foundation has a lot to offer, with regular workshops, teaching everything from crafts to language skills. They have a regular programme of exhibitions from local and international artists and musicians, and the range is varied. Events are advertised in The Gulf News on a daily basis.
Just next door to the Cultural Foundation is the Old Fort (also known as the Al Husn Fort). This imposing whitewashed building is one of the oldest buildings in Abu Dhabi, and has a small museum.
Also of interest is the Women’s Handicraft Centre which forms part of the Abu Dhabi Women’s Association. It houses a small but well layed-out museum, and a souvenir shop where you can buy items made in the handicrafts centre. The little shop also offers you the opportunity to dress in traditional clothes and have your picture taken!
The handicrafts section is interesting, and demonstrates some of the traditional handiwork of Emirati women. If you are keen on having a henna tattoo done, this is an excellent place to give it a try.
Don’t forget to visit the Emirates Palace Hotel. Tours of the Palace are run four times every day, and advance booking is essential. Unless, of course, you can afford to stay as a guest!
For boating enthusiasts you can visit the dhow building works where you can see a traditional dhow being made.
If you are looking for some adventure, you could try a dhow cruise along the Corniche waterways. For those looking for a bit more of an adrenalin rush, you can go on a sunset desert trip, which includes some stomach turning dune riding in a 4x4, a visit to a camel farm, and a traditional meal at a Bedouin style camp. Overnight trips are also possible.
If you are just in the mood to relax, there are plenty of beaches, though it can get pretty hot. Spring and early summer is the best time. There private beaches run by the hotels, as well as public beaches, and a ladies-only beach.
There are also a number of beautiful parks and gardens which offer fantastic opportunities to picnic and play. Great for those with kids!
And if you are keen to travel a little further out (say an hour and a half out of Abu Dhabi), an excellent place to visit is Al Ain. Apart from being the birth place of Sheikh Zayed it has a beautiful oasis. There is a quiet little restaurant in the middle of the oasis, and although the service was slow, the food was excellent!
Al Ain also offers the fairly recently discovered Hot Springs, which is being developed into a fine holiday spot. The Hot Springs are nestled at the bottom of one of the Emirates highest mountains – Jebel Hafeet. If you are a cycling buff, it’s apparently a two to three hour uphill cycle, but a 45 min down ride! If you are less energetic, the road is excellent, and offers plenty of viewing sites where you can overlook everything from date palm plantations to wadis to dunes. Near the peak is the Jebel Hafeet hotel which offers a lovely view from their dining room. At the peak is a small shop and a spectacular view.
The Al Ain museum and fort are very interesting, and if you are an archeology buff, it has plenty of information on the various archeological sites in the UAE, as well as some history on the region itself.
One of the archeological sites mentioned at the museum is in Al Ain, and the Hili Archeological Gardens are nearby.
There is also a museum at the home of the late Sheik Zayed, which details his legacy and the development of the UAE.
If you are still keen to do some more exploring, and fancy seeing the Empty Quarter, Liwa Oasis is a five hour drive away. Excellent for campers and 4x4 enthusiasts.
If you’ve had enough of the Abu Dhabi emirate, you can always visit one of the other six. Plenty to do in all of them!
We’ve had fun being tour guides, and as I did, I ended up learning a great deal about our adopted home.
Desert Notes: Getting Hot over Getting Cold
It’s summer in Abu Dhabi now. Which means the temperatures are rising. And when you are looking at a summer average high of around 48° Celsius at the start of summer, an airconditioner becomes an absolute necessity.
So ours broke down.
On purpose I’m sure. Because it means we have to deal with the maintenance people employed by our landlord. And we have a history with these guys. And its not a particularly good one. Especially the plumber who tested the electrical sockets with a screwdriver…..
It started simply enough. The thermostat started doing wonky things. Like staying permanently in polar-bear mode. Which meant we had two options – either freeze with the aircon on, or swelter with it off.
As it was still spring, we weren’t too concerned, as it was easy enough to turn on and off, but we thought it appropriate to call our aircon tech Nazim. Normally Nazim is my hero when it comes to fixing the problems we have had. But not this time. He failed to show at the appointed time (i.e. two days after the originally scheduled date).
So we called again. And eventually he showed up. With the screwdriver-wielding plumber in tow. They went upstairs, examined the unit on the roof. And disappeared, like ice cubes in the sunshine.
It appears that Mr Nazim’s contract with the landlord had expired. Without anyone remembering to inform any of the any tenants. At the beginning of the summer, when all aircon units are supposed to undergo a service and cleaning.
So my husband called the landlord about the problem. And he promised to send someone over. No one arrived.
And then one of the two units on our roof expired in a dramatic fashion. With a loud bang, some sparks, and the total loss of all electricity to our villa (townhouse), it blew up. Eventually we managed to get the electricity back on, but were left with just one aircon unit running, which meant that we had polar bear temperatures in the lounge, and roast leg of lamb upstairs.
We attempted to get hold of the landlord again. But it appeared that he had gone on holiday, leaving another agent in charge. We have yet to get hold of the other agent.
One of my husband’s colleagues is also a neighbour. His villa is also managed by our absentee landlord. He also has airconditioner issues. In desperation, he managed to get hold of the actual owner of the villas. He made some loud and rather upset noises in the owners ear, and the owner relented and sent someone over to examine the villas.
This very professional looking someone arrived unexpectedly one afternoon, and went to look at our units on the roof. He was clearly horrifed, and told us that the one aircon unit was completely burnt out, and the other was very badly maintained and needed urgent attention.
We could have told him that. Free of charge.
Then, like the chocolates in my cupboard, he disappeared.
It had now been nearly two months since we first raised the complaint. And it was getting warmer.
So my husband phoned the landlord (back from his jaunt to wherever) again. And got a wee bit uptight with him, and threatened him with all sorts of things unless he sorted it out.
Two days later, as we were laying the grass in our garden, the landlord appeared. With the actual owner of the villa with him. The portly landlord and the very important looking owner climbed up on the roof. Some serious discussions happened in Arabic. We have no idea what was said, but apparently the owner was Not Happy, and neither was the landlord.
Eventually after much discussion, the landlord informed us that the owner had agreed to replace the upstairs unit with brand new ones in each room.
Marvellous! We were delighted! Progress at last.
They delivered the huge big boxes an hour before my youngest daughter’s 2nd birthday party was due to start. And promptly ripped up some of our recently layed grass and left them right where we were planning to put the party guests. And, like notes in my wallet, they disappeared……
So now we had aircon units, but no idea when they would be installed. Some frantic phone-calling happened, and a date was set for the installation.
And lo and behold, miracles do happen, and they arrived on time, on the day agreed, and installed them.
It required making big holes in the walls, lots of noise, plenty of to-ing and fro-ing and it frightened the living daylights out of my cat. We tried to keep it in the bathroom, but it appears to be a Houdini-like creature and kept on escaping.
Eventually, after a solid day’s work, we were informed that the airconditioners were done. As that week’s temperatures were reaching 38 degrees, we couldn’t wait to test them out. We rushed indoors to press the new buttons.
There was a minor hitch. It appears they had failed to connect the units to any electricity. And during the hammering, drilling, to-ing and fro-ing, the working unit for downstairs had quietly expired as well.
So now its 38 degrees and we had brand new units upstairs, an old one downstairs and nothing works. And in the middle of this the cat goes missing. I looked for the kitty cat, while my husband got authoritative on the phone. The various bodies he yelled at agreed that it would be fixed immediately.
He put down the phone and we found my cat. Cleo had escaped outside and inadvertently eaten rat poison and was very very ill. My cat is my third child there was no way I was going to wait for the technicians to arrive before getting the cat to the vet.
Fortunately my mother is here on a visit, and she took care of the two very hot, very grumpy children who were up way past their bedtime and waited for the electrician to arrive, while we rushed Cleo to the vet.
While we were discussing the signs and symptoms of organophosphate poisoning with the vet, the technicians arrived, examined the old unit, and came downstairs to inform my mother of the verdict.
He very seriously said to my mom “Madam, this thing is stuff-buggered.” Those were his exact words.
We arrived home shortly afterwards, and my husband was back on the phone with the landlord. The technician, who appears to like using very descriptive words, told the landlord “Mister, this thing is like my mother and my father – very very old. If you want me to repair it, I might as well open a shop on the roof.”
So very reluctantly, the landlord agreed to replace the “stuff-buggered” downstairs unit as well.
They were supposed to have installed it on Tuesday. But its now Thursday, and there is still no sign of the new units or the technician. The cat has recovered fortunately, but I am not sure how long we can last in the heat.
Because now our situation is reversed from when this whole saga started nearly three months ago.
Its polar-bear upstairs, and roasted lamb downstairs….. And the temperatures are rising……
So ours broke down.
On purpose I’m sure. Because it means we have to deal with the maintenance people employed by our landlord. And we have a history with these guys. And its not a particularly good one. Especially the plumber who tested the electrical sockets with a screwdriver…..
It started simply enough. The thermostat started doing wonky things. Like staying permanently in polar-bear mode. Which meant we had two options – either freeze with the aircon on, or swelter with it off.
As it was still spring, we weren’t too concerned, as it was easy enough to turn on and off, but we thought it appropriate to call our aircon tech Nazim. Normally Nazim is my hero when it comes to fixing the problems we have had. But not this time. He failed to show at the appointed time (i.e. two days after the originally scheduled date).
So we called again. And eventually he showed up. With the screwdriver-wielding plumber in tow. They went upstairs, examined the unit on the roof. And disappeared, like ice cubes in the sunshine.
It appears that Mr Nazim’s contract with the landlord had expired. Without anyone remembering to inform any of the any tenants. At the beginning of the summer, when all aircon units are supposed to undergo a service and cleaning.
So my husband called the landlord about the problem. And he promised to send someone over. No one arrived.
And then one of the two units on our roof expired in a dramatic fashion. With a loud bang, some sparks, and the total loss of all electricity to our villa (townhouse), it blew up. Eventually we managed to get the electricity back on, but were left with just one aircon unit running, which meant that we had polar bear temperatures in the lounge, and roast leg of lamb upstairs.
We attempted to get hold of the landlord again. But it appeared that he had gone on holiday, leaving another agent in charge. We have yet to get hold of the other agent.
One of my husband’s colleagues is also a neighbour. His villa is also managed by our absentee landlord. He also has airconditioner issues. In desperation, he managed to get hold of the actual owner of the villas. He made some loud and rather upset noises in the owners ear, and the owner relented and sent someone over to examine the villas.
This very professional looking someone arrived unexpectedly one afternoon, and went to look at our units on the roof. He was clearly horrifed, and told us that the one aircon unit was completely burnt out, and the other was very badly maintained and needed urgent attention.
We could have told him that. Free of charge.
Then, like the chocolates in my cupboard, he disappeared.
It had now been nearly two months since we first raised the complaint. And it was getting warmer.
So my husband phoned the landlord (back from his jaunt to wherever) again. And got a wee bit uptight with him, and threatened him with all sorts of things unless he sorted it out.
Two days later, as we were laying the grass in our garden, the landlord appeared. With the actual owner of the villa with him. The portly landlord and the very important looking owner climbed up on the roof. Some serious discussions happened in Arabic. We have no idea what was said, but apparently the owner was Not Happy, and neither was the landlord.
Eventually after much discussion, the landlord informed us that the owner had agreed to replace the upstairs unit with brand new ones in each room.
Marvellous! We were delighted! Progress at last.
They delivered the huge big boxes an hour before my youngest daughter’s 2nd birthday party was due to start. And promptly ripped up some of our recently layed grass and left them right where we were planning to put the party guests. And, like notes in my wallet, they disappeared……
So now we had aircon units, but no idea when they would be installed. Some frantic phone-calling happened, and a date was set for the installation.
And lo and behold, miracles do happen, and they arrived on time, on the day agreed, and installed them.
It required making big holes in the walls, lots of noise, plenty of to-ing and fro-ing and it frightened the living daylights out of my cat. We tried to keep it in the bathroom, but it appears to be a Houdini-like creature and kept on escaping.
Eventually, after a solid day’s work, we were informed that the airconditioners were done. As that week’s temperatures were reaching 38 degrees, we couldn’t wait to test them out. We rushed indoors to press the new buttons.
There was a minor hitch. It appears they had failed to connect the units to any electricity. And during the hammering, drilling, to-ing and fro-ing, the working unit for downstairs had quietly expired as well.
So now its 38 degrees and we had brand new units upstairs, an old one downstairs and nothing works. And in the middle of this the cat goes missing. I looked for the kitty cat, while my husband got authoritative on the phone. The various bodies he yelled at agreed that it would be fixed immediately.
He put down the phone and we found my cat. Cleo had escaped outside and inadvertently eaten rat poison and was very very ill. My cat is my third child there was no way I was going to wait for the technicians to arrive before getting the cat to the vet.
Fortunately my mother is here on a visit, and she took care of the two very hot, very grumpy children who were up way past their bedtime and waited for the electrician to arrive, while we rushed Cleo to the vet.
While we were discussing the signs and symptoms of organophosphate poisoning with the vet, the technicians arrived, examined the old unit, and came downstairs to inform my mother of the verdict.
He very seriously said to my mom “Madam, this thing is stuff-buggered.” Those were his exact words.
We arrived home shortly afterwards, and my husband was back on the phone with the landlord. The technician, who appears to like using very descriptive words, told the landlord “Mister, this thing is like my mother and my father – very very old. If you want me to repair it, I might as well open a shop on the roof.”
So very reluctantly, the landlord agreed to replace the “stuff-buggered” downstairs unit as well.
They were supposed to have installed it on Tuesday. But its now Thursday, and there is still no sign of the new units or the technician. The cat has recovered fortunately, but I am not sure how long we can last in the heat.
Because now our situation is reversed from when this whole saga started nearly three months ago.
Its polar-bear upstairs, and roasted lamb downstairs….. And the temperatures are rising……
Desert Notes: Getting Historical
I like museums. It may be odd, but I always have. All those musty looking objects with that tremendous sense of history about them.
Perhaps it was inspired by my parents’ firm belief that holidays are not only the destination, but the journey too. So we would stop off at old battlefields, and little pokey museums and wander around in awe (probably with the odd complaint too, I was still a kid) looking at the various antiquities. And my mom would find an appropriate reference in one of her travel guides, and read to us about the history of the area.
So it was with great delight that I decided to visit some of Abu Dhabi’s heritage sites.
The first one we visited was the Bedouin Heritage. This is not exactly a museum, but a replica of the lifestyle in and around the Arabian Gulf before the rich wealth of oil was discovered.
There was a replica Bedouin campsite, and walking through the tents gave me an incredible feeling of what it had been like to live in them. I had a mental image of a bible story – when God sends angels to tell Abraham that they would have children. Sarah had been sitting apart from the men, but could hear what they were saying, and laughed out loud at the thought as she was very old.
I could picture it, especially with the old wooden cradle suspended from the roof.
There were other things to look at too – the reed housing that formed the more permanent structures of the day, and snippets of the regions history as a pearl diving centre.
It was very interesting, but kind of limited. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the guide who took us around the village was Sudanese!
The second site we decided to visit was the Old Fort (the Al Hosn Palace), which is one of the oldest buildings in Abu Dhabi. It has these huge white-washed walls, and looking at it in the bright sunlight was just about blinding.
I was a little disappointed here though, because there was absolute no one around to show us the interior, and we couldn’t figure out which door to use. So we took a casual amble around the exterior. I would love to know more of its history, and take a look inside. I will have to make a return trip.
This week we stopped off at the Emirates Heritage Village, which is run by the Emirates Heritage Club. The Heritage Club was set up in 1997, and aims to protect and preserve the heritage of the UAE.
It was absolutely lovely. There was a section with the traditional tented culture, as well as the reed huts we saw at the other village.
But most interesting were the various rooms in one building that demonstrated some of the crafts and skills that the Emiratis have developed over the years.
The first “shop” we stopped in was the spice shop. A very friendly gentleman opened up all his jars had us take a sniff. Even a whiff of the world’s most expensive spice – saffron! Mr Hassan Mohamed told us how some of the spices are used to create the special Arabic flatbreads. And then he proudly showed off some of the soap that his wife makes by hand from olive oil. I bought some!
We stopped in at the weaving shop, where a man was energetically making a fantastically beautiful wall hanging. It was incredibly detailed and he told us that it took 20 days just to weave one square metre of wool into a picture. He then roped a young girl from a tourist group into giving the loom a try.
We also visited the pottery shop, the glass blowing shop, the traditional curved dagger making place, and the basket weaving. We looked in at the women in traditional clothing (worn always, and not only at the village) and how they weaved the blankets on this long slender looms using their hands and feet. Another woman was braiding the silver threads into strips that are used to decorate the dresses worn under the black abayas.
There was also a small museum which showed some of the tools that have been used over the years, as well as some examples of pearl traders’ equipment.
And then, to my youngest daughter’s delight we came across the agricultural section. First up was the system of irrigation used to make things grow in the desert. She spotted what she thought was a donkey, but was a very big bull. The bull pulls a leather bucket thing with a spout from out a deep well. When it reaches the top, the bucket tips over, and the water pours out of the spout into these long irrigation channels. It took a long time it, but it definitely worked.
We then met a real donkey (or ass, it was the one with the cross on its back). The donkey took a shine to my daughter and brayed in dismay when she stopped scratching his head and we walked over to see another “donkey” – which was actually a camel.
I was a wee bit nervous to get too close to the camel, as there were no guides around and I had no idea what kind of temperament it had. I posed gingerly near it for a photo, and walked on to the falconry section.
We weren’t able to see much here as the falconry displays are only done once week in the evenings. Next time!
The Heritage Club puts a lot of effort into its work – everything from archeological digs to producing pamphlets of the significance of the date palm in Arab culture.
And that’s what caught my attention. Every single one of the people we spoke to at the Heritage Village was truly passionate about what they were doing, and why they were doing it.
I have yet to visit the equivalent “cultural village” in South Africa, though I know there are many. And I also haven’t visited a museum at home for years. I plan to when we next visit. And I hope we are able to experience the same passion for their culture as what I saw at the Emirates Heritage village.
Perhaps it was inspired by my parents’ firm belief that holidays are not only the destination, but the journey too. So we would stop off at old battlefields, and little pokey museums and wander around in awe (probably with the odd complaint too, I was still a kid) looking at the various antiquities. And my mom would find an appropriate reference in one of her travel guides, and read to us about the history of the area.
So it was with great delight that I decided to visit some of Abu Dhabi’s heritage sites.
The first one we visited was the Bedouin Heritage. This is not exactly a museum, but a replica of the lifestyle in and around the Arabian Gulf before the rich wealth of oil was discovered.
There was a replica Bedouin campsite, and walking through the tents gave me an incredible feeling of what it had been like to live in them. I had a mental image of a bible story – when God sends angels to tell Abraham that they would have children. Sarah had been sitting apart from the men, but could hear what they were saying, and laughed out loud at the thought as she was very old.
I could picture it, especially with the old wooden cradle suspended from the roof.
There were other things to look at too – the reed housing that formed the more permanent structures of the day, and snippets of the regions history as a pearl diving centre.
It was very interesting, but kind of limited. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the guide who took us around the village was Sudanese!
The second site we decided to visit was the Old Fort (the Al Hosn Palace), which is one of the oldest buildings in Abu Dhabi. It has these huge white-washed walls, and looking at it in the bright sunlight was just about blinding.
I was a little disappointed here though, because there was absolute no one around to show us the interior, and we couldn’t figure out which door to use. So we took a casual amble around the exterior. I would love to know more of its history, and take a look inside. I will have to make a return trip.
This week we stopped off at the Emirates Heritage Village, which is run by the Emirates Heritage Club. The Heritage Club was set up in 1997, and aims to protect and preserve the heritage of the UAE.
It was absolutely lovely. There was a section with the traditional tented culture, as well as the reed huts we saw at the other village.
But most interesting were the various rooms in one building that demonstrated some of the crafts and skills that the Emiratis have developed over the years.
The first “shop” we stopped in was the spice shop. A very friendly gentleman opened up all his jars had us take a sniff. Even a whiff of the world’s most expensive spice – saffron! Mr Hassan Mohamed told us how some of the spices are used to create the special Arabic flatbreads. And then he proudly showed off some of the soap that his wife makes by hand from olive oil. I bought some!
We stopped in at the weaving shop, where a man was energetically making a fantastically beautiful wall hanging. It was incredibly detailed and he told us that it took 20 days just to weave one square metre of wool into a picture. He then roped a young girl from a tourist group into giving the loom a try.
We also visited the pottery shop, the glass blowing shop, the traditional curved dagger making place, and the basket weaving. We looked in at the women in traditional clothing (worn always, and not only at the village) and how they weaved the blankets on this long slender looms using their hands and feet. Another woman was braiding the silver threads into strips that are used to decorate the dresses worn under the black abayas.
There was also a small museum which showed some of the tools that have been used over the years, as well as some examples of pearl traders’ equipment.
And then, to my youngest daughter’s delight we came across the agricultural section. First up was the system of irrigation used to make things grow in the desert. She spotted what she thought was a donkey, but was a very big bull. The bull pulls a leather bucket thing with a spout from out a deep well. When it reaches the top, the bucket tips over, and the water pours out of the spout into these long irrigation channels. It took a long time it, but it definitely worked.
We then met a real donkey (or ass, it was the one with the cross on its back). The donkey took a shine to my daughter and brayed in dismay when she stopped scratching his head and we walked over to see another “donkey” – which was actually a camel.
I was a wee bit nervous to get too close to the camel, as there were no guides around and I had no idea what kind of temperament it had. I posed gingerly near it for a photo, and walked on to the falconry section.
We weren’t able to see much here as the falconry displays are only done once week in the evenings. Next time!
The Heritage Club puts a lot of effort into its work – everything from archeological digs to producing pamphlets of the significance of the date palm in Arab culture.
And that’s what caught my attention. Every single one of the people we spoke to at the Heritage Village was truly passionate about what they were doing, and why they were doing it.
I have yet to visit the equivalent “cultural village” in South Africa, though I know there are many. And I also haven’t visited a museum at home for years. I plan to when we next visit. And I hope we are able to experience the same passion for their culture as what I saw at the Emirates Heritage village.
Desert Notes: Freedom of religion
Freedom of Religion
I have always been rather smug about the fact that the UAE is far more tolerant of other religious groups and belief systems than many of the other Middle Eastern countries.
After all, I have three big churches within a 5 -10 minute walk from my villa. And at each of those venues they have a number of denominations that share their facilities. For example, at the St Andrews Centre about 48 different Christian denominations share the facilities. The same goes for the Evangelical Church Centre, St George’s Orthodox Church and St Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church. So there is plenty of Christian religion to be had in Abu Dhabi.
And it is all approved by the UAE government. In fact, the late Sheikh Zayed provided the land for St Andrews church to be built back in 1966. So the UAE has a long history of freedom of religion.
Or so I thought. Until I read this article on The Gulf News website. In summary, two women were arrested for promoting Christianity and distributing bibles illegally.
I have a Christian-based background. I was baptised Catholic, brought up an Anglican (though went to a Jewish nursery school) and as a teenager, became a Baptist. So needless to say I was horrified.
The country, which I had believed to allow freedom of religion, had arrested women for distributing bibles?
I was all ready to get hot and heavy and uptight, and have a huge rant about this. I decided to do some research. And the first thing I found out was that the UAE constitution guarantees freedom of religion. Hah! And they arrested these women for distributing bibles?
But then I realised I was thinking from a purely Christian perspective. What about the non-Christian religions? Were they equally “un-free”?
Back to my guidebooks and the internet.
First thing I found out was that Moslems are allowed to marry Christians and Jews. The latter surprised me because of the whole Israel/Palestine thing. But they are not supposed to marry Hindus or Buddhists.
Right. Still being negative, I decided to see if Hindus were allowed to have temples in the UAE like the Christians were allowed to have churches. I doubted very much that I could find anything. But I did. There is a large Hindu temple in Dubai.
Okay, so they offered Christians and Hindus a place to worship.
Ah, but what about the Jews? Especially considering that when reporting on the conflict in Israel/Palestine, Jerusalem-based stories are always datelined “Occupied Jerusalem.” My mind said that they were bound to discriminate against Jews. I knew that Israeli citizens are highly unlikely to get visas and expat urban legend told that Jews visa applications are often rejected.
So what did I find? Firstly, a study on internet usage. Internet access is tightly controlled in the UAE. All internet access is via the ISP’s proxy server and access to sites that go against Islamic beliefs are barred – pornography, gambling, internet dating sites, etc etc. And the study said that although the internet is tightly controlled, there is no restriction on sites related to Judaism. It surprised me.
And then I found another article on a Jewish website which said that although formal government relations between the UAE and Israel are unlikely to exist until the Palestine/Israel issue is resolved, progress is being made. The Israeli government was to open an office in Abu Dhabi. It would not have full diplomatic status, but it would provide an avenue for opening dialogue.
And then I found another article, this time from the Khaleej Times, which gives statistics on religious groupings in the UAE. Nearly 60 percent of Dubai residents are Muslims, while Christians accounts for 14.72 per cent of the total population and the remaining 26.12 per cent being followers of other religions like Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism. And I imagine the statistics are similar for Abu Dhabi, though probably not for the other smaller emirates.
So now where was I? I had gone in expecting to find evidence that the UAE, much like any other Middle Eastern country, was discriminating against non-Moslems.
But other than the arrest story, I couldn’t find anything. So I read the story again. Trying this time to read it without prejudice. And to research some more.
I read again about the UAE’s constitution guaranteeing freedom of religion. And then I found some more information. And in the article, I found the following paragraph:
“Although varying from emirate to emirate, the degree of religious freedom afforded non-Muslims is greater in the UAE than in Saudi Arabia and Qatar. For example, non-Muslims are permitted to worship but not to proselytize. There are several large Christian churches and schools in the UAE, primarily in Dubai and Abu Dhabi.”
I noticed immediately the word “proselytize” and although I knew what it mean, I decided to make sure. So I looked it. According to Dictionary.com, it means “To convert (a person) from one belief, doctrine, cause, or faith to another.”
So I stopped to think.
We, as non-Moslems, are clearly guests in the UAE. The UAE offers us the freedom to practice our own religion, but politely requests that we don’t go around trying to convert the Moslems to our belief systems, particularly in public places. In other words, limited freedom.
A reasonable request. But a difficult one for many other belief systems. The bible, for example, says that Jesus instructed his believers to get others to believe in him. So Christians believe that it is part of their duties as Christians to convert others.
A conflict of interest? Perhaps. Particularly if you look at the whole issue of freedom. Is the limited freedom that the UAE offers enough? In the larger Human Rights world view, probably not.
But it is what the UAE offers at the moment.
And so I thought some more. About responsibility. Because what many people forget is that with freedom comes responsibility. We are responsible for how we use our freedom, and to ensure that our freedom doesn’t impact on the freedom of others.
So ultimately, after giving this some thought, my conclusion is as follows. The UAE’s limited freedom is not ideal, but it is far more than other countries offer. And it is the responsibility of the UAE’s guests (which we are) to act within their laws, and to respect the freedom that they have given us.
There are other ways of convincing people to change their belief systems. But disobeying the law is certainly not going to impress many people.
What do you think?
I have always been rather smug about the fact that the UAE is far more tolerant of other religious groups and belief systems than many of the other Middle Eastern countries.
After all, I have three big churches within a 5 -10 minute walk from my villa. And at each of those venues they have a number of denominations that share their facilities. For example, at the St Andrews Centre about 48 different Christian denominations share the facilities. The same goes for the Evangelical Church Centre, St George’s Orthodox Church and St Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church. So there is plenty of Christian religion to be had in Abu Dhabi.
And it is all approved by the UAE government. In fact, the late Sheikh Zayed provided the land for St Andrews church to be built back in 1966. So the UAE has a long history of freedom of religion.
Or so I thought. Until I read this article on The Gulf News website. In summary, two women were arrested for promoting Christianity and distributing bibles illegally.
I have a Christian-based background. I was baptised Catholic, brought up an Anglican (though went to a Jewish nursery school) and as a teenager, became a Baptist. So needless to say I was horrified.
The country, which I had believed to allow freedom of religion, had arrested women for distributing bibles?
I was all ready to get hot and heavy and uptight, and have a huge rant about this. I decided to do some research. And the first thing I found out was that the UAE constitution guarantees freedom of religion. Hah! And they arrested these women for distributing bibles?
But then I realised I was thinking from a purely Christian perspective. What about the non-Christian religions? Were they equally “un-free”?
Back to my guidebooks and the internet.
First thing I found out was that Moslems are allowed to marry Christians and Jews. The latter surprised me because of the whole Israel/Palestine thing. But they are not supposed to marry Hindus or Buddhists.
Right. Still being negative, I decided to see if Hindus were allowed to have temples in the UAE like the Christians were allowed to have churches. I doubted very much that I could find anything. But I did. There is a large Hindu temple in Dubai.
Okay, so they offered Christians and Hindus a place to worship.
Ah, but what about the Jews? Especially considering that when reporting on the conflict in Israel/Palestine, Jerusalem-based stories are always datelined “Occupied Jerusalem.” My mind said that they were bound to discriminate against Jews. I knew that Israeli citizens are highly unlikely to get visas and expat urban legend told that Jews visa applications are often rejected.
So what did I find? Firstly, a study on internet usage. Internet access is tightly controlled in the UAE. All internet access is via the ISP’s proxy server and access to sites that go against Islamic beliefs are barred – pornography, gambling, internet dating sites, etc etc. And the study said that although the internet is tightly controlled, there is no restriction on sites related to Judaism. It surprised me.
And then I found another article on a Jewish website which said that although formal government relations between the UAE and Israel are unlikely to exist until the Palestine/Israel issue is resolved, progress is being made. The Israeli government was to open an office in Abu Dhabi. It would not have full diplomatic status, but it would provide an avenue for opening dialogue.
And then I found another article, this time from the Khaleej Times, which gives statistics on religious groupings in the UAE. Nearly 60 percent of Dubai residents are Muslims, while Christians accounts for 14.72 per cent of the total population and the remaining 26.12 per cent being followers of other religions like Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism. And I imagine the statistics are similar for Abu Dhabi, though probably not for the other smaller emirates.
So now where was I? I had gone in expecting to find evidence that the UAE, much like any other Middle Eastern country, was discriminating against non-Moslems.
But other than the arrest story, I couldn’t find anything. So I read the story again. Trying this time to read it without prejudice. And to research some more.
I read again about the UAE’s constitution guaranteeing freedom of religion. And then I found some more information. And in the article, I found the following paragraph:
“Although varying from emirate to emirate, the degree of religious freedom afforded non-Muslims is greater in the UAE than in Saudi Arabia and Qatar. For example, non-Muslims are permitted to worship but not to proselytize. There are several large Christian churches and schools in the UAE, primarily in Dubai and Abu Dhabi.”
I noticed immediately the word “proselytize” and although I knew what it mean, I decided to make sure. So I looked it. According to Dictionary.com, it means “To convert (a person) from one belief, doctrine, cause, or faith to another.”
So I stopped to think.
We, as non-Moslems, are clearly guests in the UAE. The UAE offers us the freedom to practice our own religion, but politely requests that we don’t go around trying to convert the Moslems to our belief systems, particularly in public places. In other words, limited freedom.
A reasonable request. But a difficult one for many other belief systems. The bible, for example, says that Jesus instructed his believers to get others to believe in him. So Christians believe that it is part of their duties as Christians to convert others.
A conflict of interest? Perhaps. Particularly if you look at the whole issue of freedom. Is the limited freedom that the UAE offers enough? In the larger Human Rights world view, probably not.
But it is what the UAE offers at the moment.
And so I thought some more. About responsibility. Because what many people forget is that with freedom comes responsibility. We are responsible for how we use our freedom, and to ensure that our freedom doesn’t impact on the freedom of others.
So ultimately, after giving this some thought, my conclusion is as follows. The UAE’s limited freedom is not ideal, but it is far more than other countries offer. And it is the responsibility of the UAE’s guests (which we are) to act within their laws, and to respect the freedom that they have given us.
There are other ways of convincing people to change their belief systems. But disobeying the law is certainly not going to impress many people.
What do you think?
Desert Notes: The Empty Quarter
“The Empty Quarter” – doesn’t that just sound totally dramatic? I thought so when I first heard it.
It’s the name that is given to the desert that stretches between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Yemen, the Sultanate of Oman, and the United Arab Emirates. Known also as the Rub al-Khali, it is the world’s largest continuous expanse of sand.
I have yet to see The Empty Quarter for myself, but the name simply conjures up the most amazing imagery in my head.
I have visions of endless dunes of sand, reddish brown and reflecting the bright hot sun into the endless blue sky.
The only sound I hear is the endless singing whisper of the sand, as the wind creates whirls and eddies in the desert.
I imagine the heat is unrelenting, wearying, and the sand a constant irritation as it creeps into your clothes, rustling and scratching. The only comfort is from the stark beauty of the landscape around you, with heat hazes glimmering on the horizon, which is filled with yet more dunes. And as each dune is conquered, yet another one lies at your feet.
Restless sand, endless heat.
Just imagine.
There is a large portion of this “desert within a desert” that is yet still unmapped, although it has been traveled by the Bedu tribes for centuries. While camel caravans would stop at the small oases that are part of the desert, today’s traveler has much better options - an airconditioned 4x4, GPS, and satellite phone.
Luxuries indeed to the original inhabitants of one of the world’s driest places.
The Empty Quarter is the world’s largest sand sea. According to National Geographic, it holds roughly half as much sand as the Sahara, which is 15 times the Empty Quarter's size but composed mostly of graveled plains and rocky outcrops.
Despite its attraction for intrepid travellers searching for the romance of the desert, it has its dark side. As the area is stretches across borders, which are difficult to man, it has become a place for gun traffickers and a hideout for terrorists.
I find it fascinating, and plan to visit the Empty Quarter at some stage during my stay in the UAE. I promise to share my experiences with you.
In the interim, I found a fantastic mini-video (uses Flash) on the National Geographic site. To view, go to http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0502/sights_n_sounds/media2.html
It’s the name that is given to the desert that stretches between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Yemen, the Sultanate of Oman, and the United Arab Emirates. Known also as the Rub al-Khali, it is the world’s largest continuous expanse of sand.
I have yet to see The Empty Quarter for myself, but the name simply conjures up the most amazing imagery in my head.
I have visions of endless dunes of sand, reddish brown and reflecting the bright hot sun into the endless blue sky.
The only sound I hear is the endless singing whisper of the sand, as the wind creates whirls and eddies in the desert.
I imagine the heat is unrelenting, wearying, and the sand a constant irritation as it creeps into your clothes, rustling and scratching. The only comfort is from the stark beauty of the landscape around you, with heat hazes glimmering on the horizon, which is filled with yet more dunes. And as each dune is conquered, yet another one lies at your feet.
Restless sand, endless heat.
Just imagine.
There is a large portion of this “desert within a desert” that is yet still unmapped, although it has been traveled by the Bedu tribes for centuries. While camel caravans would stop at the small oases that are part of the desert, today’s traveler has much better options - an airconditioned 4x4, GPS, and satellite phone.
Luxuries indeed to the original inhabitants of one of the world’s driest places.
The Empty Quarter is the world’s largest sand sea. According to National Geographic, it holds roughly half as much sand as the Sahara, which is 15 times the Empty Quarter's size but composed mostly of graveled plains and rocky outcrops.
Despite its attraction for intrepid travellers searching for the romance of the desert, it has its dark side. As the area is stretches across borders, which are difficult to man, it has become a place for gun traffickers and a hideout for terrorists.
I find it fascinating, and plan to visit the Empty Quarter at some stage during my stay in the UAE. I promise to share my experiences with you.
In the interim, I found a fantastic mini-video (uses Flash) on the National Geographic site. To view, go to http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0502/sights_n_sounds/media2.html
Desert Notes: Selling South Africa
I’m proudly South African. I may be living in another country at the moment, but SA still represents home to me. And I’m proud of what being South African means to me: a country on a growth curve, coming from a troubled history and moving towards a much brighter future.
Having spent my entire career working for the marketing and communications departments of two different multinational organizations, I can’t help but think in marketing terms sometimes. There are lots of opportunities in the United Arab Emirates, and not enough South Africans are taking them up.
There are exceptions however. In the military world, you mention South Africa, and they automatically say “Ah, Denel!” And it is said in a good way. They like our products, they like our service, and they like our technical expertise.
There is also Mugg & Bean, but it is often a surprise to people when I tell them it is actually a South African company. Most people think it is an American franchise.
Woolworths too. Many (except the British, who know better) think it’s the UK chainstore of the same name. The UK version is completely unlike our South African one. And like in SA, the Woolworths here has come to mean quality. It is just a pity that people are not associating that quality with South Africa.
One of the things that surprised me most was my visit to the Gold Souk (market). In a shopping mall filled with nothing but jewelry stores, I expected to see some evidence of South Africa, it being one of the major gold producers of this world. But no, all the jewelry stores have big banners claiming to sell Italian gold. I was surprised and did some research.
In India, wedding dowries are commonly made up of gold jewelry. And it has to be new, no hand-me-downs from mum either. So the wealthy families head out to Dubai and Abu Dhabi, and shop till they drop at the Gold Souks. And for some reason Italian gold is the most sought after.
I still don’t know why. Because as far as I am aware, South African gold is of exceptional quality and purity, and should be what people are looking for. Why aren’t they? It’s a question that needs to be posed to the marketing arm of Gold Council of SA.
I’m forever promoting South African products. From chutney to mayonnaise to rooibos tea. I did find it interesting to hear that “chutney” itself is an Indian word, but the South African version is nothing like the chutneys from India. Obviously it has its roots in the SA Indian population. I never knew that!
And I tell them all the time how insipid their mayonnaise is. So tasteless, and without the tang that we are used to. But I tell them nicely of course!
Rooibos tea is one of my favourites to promote when I meet other mums. Because its caffeine free, good for kids, and because it has other uses too. Like putting cooled rooibos tea in the bath to treat skin allergies. I’ve managed to get so many mums at the local playgroup interested that I have to buy an extra box to take with me to the next gathering. And I need to find some more information about its good qualities.
There are some products that are recognised as being South African – like Jungle Oats. Tiger Brands will be glad to hear that!
One of the first questions you are asked when meeting someone new, is “So where are you from?” and I’m always happy to tell them South Africa. And when they talk about where to spend their holidays, I’m always quick to point out the many different types of holiday you can have here – and with their dollars, pounds and euros, they can get a lot of value for their money.
From wine routes to bungee-jumping and the inevitable “safari,” South Africa has a lot to offer the international tourist. I am quick to tell them of my favourite area, the Garden Route, as well as the many other options the country has. And to make them feel like they are doing something worthwhile, I tell them that we like tourists, because for every eight visitors, one new job is created (see, the ad campaign did work on someone – me!).
When they ask me about the economy, I tell them what is happening, and why I see a positive future for the country. I tell them that the biggest crisis the country has yet to begin to deal with effectively is HIV. But that I know something can be done, because it has been done effectively in Uganda, which now has one of lowest infection rates in Africa.
But there is one question that I can simply not gloss over. Crime. Because everyone associates two things with SA – apartheid, and crime. Initially I was able to tell them that its not that bad, and that I myself had been a victim of crime, but if you were careful, then you weren’t likely to experience a problem.
Until I described what had happened to me. We were attacked at home by some inexperienced thugs who used our own garden fork to stab my husband (not seriously fortunately) in the shoulder, and had thrown a tin of our black paint into our house. I’ve always taken this incident rather lightly, because, well, no-one was killed, no guns were used, and the police never actually did anything about it.
But my perspective changed when I saw the look of horror on a Canadian woman’s face. Because we have come to take crime so lightly, and as so much part of our lives, that it doesn’t phase us anymore. We’re almost immune.
It didn’t help much to hear later that day that two of my family members had been witnesses to separate bank robberies on the same day.
It made me take stock somewhat.
I am still happy to “sell” my country to whoever is willing to give me the time. But I no longer have an answer for the inevitable question “But what about the crime?”
What would your answer be?
Having spent my entire career working for the marketing and communications departments of two different multinational organizations, I can’t help but think in marketing terms sometimes. There are lots of opportunities in the United Arab Emirates, and not enough South Africans are taking them up.
There are exceptions however. In the military world, you mention South Africa, and they automatically say “Ah, Denel!” And it is said in a good way. They like our products, they like our service, and they like our technical expertise.
There is also Mugg & Bean, but it is often a surprise to people when I tell them it is actually a South African company. Most people think it is an American franchise.
Woolworths too. Many (except the British, who know better) think it’s the UK chainstore of the same name. The UK version is completely unlike our South African one. And like in SA, the Woolworths here has come to mean quality. It is just a pity that people are not associating that quality with South Africa.
One of the things that surprised me most was my visit to the Gold Souk (market). In a shopping mall filled with nothing but jewelry stores, I expected to see some evidence of South Africa, it being one of the major gold producers of this world. But no, all the jewelry stores have big banners claiming to sell Italian gold. I was surprised and did some research.
In India, wedding dowries are commonly made up of gold jewelry. And it has to be new, no hand-me-downs from mum either. So the wealthy families head out to Dubai and Abu Dhabi, and shop till they drop at the Gold Souks. And for some reason Italian gold is the most sought after.
I still don’t know why. Because as far as I am aware, South African gold is of exceptional quality and purity, and should be what people are looking for. Why aren’t they? It’s a question that needs to be posed to the marketing arm of Gold Council of SA.
I’m forever promoting South African products. From chutney to mayonnaise to rooibos tea. I did find it interesting to hear that “chutney” itself is an Indian word, but the South African version is nothing like the chutneys from India. Obviously it has its roots in the SA Indian population. I never knew that!
And I tell them all the time how insipid their mayonnaise is. So tasteless, and without the tang that we are used to. But I tell them nicely of course!
Rooibos tea is one of my favourites to promote when I meet other mums. Because its caffeine free, good for kids, and because it has other uses too. Like putting cooled rooibos tea in the bath to treat skin allergies. I’ve managed to get so many mums at the local playgroup interested that I have to buy an extra box to take with me to the next gathering. And I need to find some more information about its good qualities.
There are some products that are recognised as being South African – like Jungle Oats. Tiger Brands will be glad to hear that!
One of the first questions you are asked when meeting someone new, is “So where are you from?” and I’m always happy to tell them South Africa. And when they talk about where to spend their holidays, I’m always quick to point out the many different types of holiday you can have here – and with their dollars, pounds and euros, they can get a lot of value for their money.
From wine routes to bungee-jumping and the inevitable “safari,” South Africa has a lot to offer the international tourist. I am quick to tell them of my favourite area, the Garden Route, as well as the many other options the country has. And to make them feel like they are doing something worthwhile, I tell them that we like tourists, because for every eight visitors, one new job is created (see, the ad campaign did work on someone – me!).
When they ask me about the economy, I tell them what is happening, and why I see a positive future for the country. I tell them that the biggest crisis the country has yet to begin to deal with effectively is HIV. But that I know something can be done, because it has been done effectively in Uganda, which now has one of lowest infection rates in Africa.
But there is one question that I can simply not gloss over. Crime. Because everyone associates two things with SA – apartheid, and crime. Initially I was able to tell them that its not that bad, and that I myself had been a victim of crime, but if you were careful, then you weren’t likely to experience a problem.
Until I described what had happened to me. We were attacked at home by some inexperienced thugs who used our own garden fork to stab my husband (not seriously fortunately) in the shoulder, and had thrown a tin of our black paint into our house. I’ve always taken this incident rather lightly, because, well, no-one was killed, no guns were used, and the police never actually did anything about it.
But my perspective changed when I saw the look of horror on a Canadian woman’s face. Because we have come to take crime so lightly, and as so much part of our lives, that it doesn’t phase us anymore. We’re almost immune.
It didn’t help much to hear later that day that two of my family members had been witnesses to separate bank robberies on the same day.
It made me take stock somewhat.
I am still happy to “sell” my country to whoever is willing to give me the time. But I no longer have an answer for the inevitable question “But what about the crime?”
What would your answer be?
Desert Notes: The Sound of Abu Dhabi
All cities have soundtracks. The noises that show they are alive and awake. Abu Dhabi does too.
Sitting here, writing this article, I can hear the far off hum of traffic. If I lived in the city centre, this wouldn’t be a hum it would be a constant beat of cars and people. The traffic noise is interspersed with hooters and brakes.
You seldom hear the sirens of emergency vehicles, even though we are close to a fire station and a large police complex. They tend to run swiftly, with lights flashing, and very seldom the wail of sirens. They are around, but much quieter than their South African counterparts.
Where I live, my morning sounds are very different from my night sounds. In the morning I hear the jangling of the bell as the gas track slowly drives down the street, reminding people that they can get their gas canisters exchanged. Or the bright ding-dong of the doorbell as the Oasis water delivery man brings my 5 gallon water bottle for the cooler.
Early morning also brings the burble of birds in the gangway, which I can hear through the hum of the extractor fan in the bathroom. In the summer, the bird sounds disappear, because it is too hot.
On weekends, the streets stay quiet, with the sound of children laughing and riding bicycles in the street.
There are the ever present hens and the strutting roosters, crowing not at dawn, but whenever they feel like it. I have no idea who these chicken families belong to, but they walk the street as though it belongs to them.
During the week, my morning sounds are filled with the noise of cars and people. Our street ends up taking the overflow parking from the nearby Passport and Immigration department. There is the rush and bustle of cars, the hooting of impatient drivers and anxious parkers. Occasionally there is the crushing sound of bumper on bumper, or bumper on the “No Parking” sign, which is roundly ignored.
There is the constant chatter from the streets around, as people bustle with the paperwork need for a trip to Immigration. Cellphones ring, and the chatter is that of Babel, a thousand voices, languages, inflections. Occasionally you hear a chuckle of laughter or the hearty greeting of friends.
In the afternoon, the streets quiet, and the cars go away, leaving it free for the children to explore.
In the evening, the streets change again. Some children are still about, but its quieter. Except, like now, for the distant hum of the traffic. As I lie in bed, I will hear the sounds of the neighbourhood street cats, alternately fighting or wailing in passion. At 2am, I will hear the thump and rattle, clatter and bang of the refuse truck, coming to empty those hated dumpsters.
Then it is quiet again, until the sunrises.
For with the sun, comes the most recognisable of this city’s sounds. The call to prayer and the singing of the muezzin.
There is literally a mosque on every street corner, and where I live, there are at least five within a 2-5 minute walking distance. We have the small mosque with the cream and brown walls. There is the little mosque with its green roof. There is the mosque at the Arabic school. There is the beautiful big mosque right next to the Christian churches. There is a tiny mosque behind the far row of villas, with a little bench outside.
And those are the ones I have seen so far. There are bound to be others, of all shapes and sizes. You are never far from a mosque, so answering the call to prayer is never a burden for those wishing to pray.
The first call comes at dawn, with the rising of the sun. The first voice goes, quickly followed by the calls from the other mosques, over their loudspeakers. It is discordant at first, but becomes an unusual harmony that has come to mark the passing of time.
When I first moved here, the calls were odd, strange, a reminder that this was not my home, that I was somewhere else.
Now, as I have become used to them, it reminds me of where I am and what needs to be done.
There are six prayers held daily. The prayers are made according to the position of the sun or moon, your location and vary daily. Today (Friday, 18 February), the first prayer (known as Fajr) was at 5:34 am. I hear it as I wake, knowing that soon my alarm will go off, and I will need to get up. The next prayer (known as Shuruq) was at 6:54am, and during the week, this reminds me that it is nearly time to get my older daughter to school. The lunchtime prayer (known as Dhuhr) will be at 12:36pm. When the Asr prayer is called at 4pm, I know its time to think about cooking supper. And the Maghrib prayer (tonight at 6:19pm) tells me that its definitely supper time and that the sun is setting. The last prayer of the day (Ishaa) tells me its getting late (its 7:49pm), and that night is here.
While these sounds may remind me of my daily routine, it has recently become significant in another way.
It tells me that people are praying. Which in this chaotic world of ours, is a good thing. People are praying to be better people, for a better world. It’s a thing of peace.
I am sure that it was similar in the old days when church bells were rung to mark the Catholic prayer times. I don’t think many churches do this anymore. You’d probably hear it in Ireland, and probably in Rome. But very few places would ring out the bells to mark the Angelus (a catholic prayer). And its sad.
To me, the ritual of the regular prayers has become a symbol of hope. I may not believe the same as what they do, but I appreciate their efforts. They are trying, in their own way, to be more of themselves.
Surely we should be doing that too?
Sitting here, writing this article, I can hear the far off hum of traffic. If I lived in the city centre, this wouldn’t be a hum it would be a constant beat of cars and people. The traffic noise is interspersed with hooters and brakes.
You seldom hear the sirens of emergency vehicles, even though we are close to a fire station and a large police complex. They tend to run swiftly, with lights flashing, and very seldom the wail of sirens. They are around, but much quieter than their South African counterparts.
Where I live, my morning sounds are very different from my night sounds. In the morning I hear the jangling of the bell as the gas track slowly drives down the street, reminding people that they can get their gas canisters exchanged. Or the bright ding-dong of the doorbell as the Oasis water delivery man brings my 5 gallon water bottle for the cooler.
Early morning also brings the burble of birds in the gangway, which I can hear through the hum of the extractor fan in the bathroom. In the summer, the bird sounds disappear, because it is too hot.
On weekends, the streets stay quiet, with the sound of children laughing and riding bicycles in the street.
There are the ever present hens and the strutting roosters, crowing not at dawn, but whenever they feel like it. I have no idea who these chicken families belong to, but they walk the street as though it belongs to them.
During the week, my morning sounds are filled with the noise of cars and people. Our street ends up taking the overflow parking from the nearby Passport and Immigration department. There is the rush and bustle of cars, the hooting of impatient drivers and anxious parkers. Occasionally there is the crushing sound of bumper on bumper, or bumper on the “No Parking” sign, which is roundly ignored.
There is the constant chatter from the streets around, as people bustle with the paperwork need for a trip to Immigration. Cellphones ring, and the chatter is that of Babel, a thousand voices, languages, inflections. Occasionally you hear a chuckle of laughter or the hearty greeting of friends.
In the afternoon, the streets quiet, and the cars go away, leaving it free for the children to explore.
In the evening, the streets change again. Some children are still about, but its quieter. Except, like now, for the distant hum of the traffic. As I lie in bed, I will hear the sounds of the neighbourhood street cats, alternately fighting or wailing in passion. At 2am, I will hear the thump and rattle, clatter and bang of the refuse truck, coming to empty those hated dumpsters.
Then it is quiet again, until the sunrises.
For with the sun, comes the most recognisable of this city’s sounds. The call to prayer and the singing of the muezzin.
There is literally a mosque on every street corner, and where I live, there are at least five within a 2-5 minute walking distance. We have the small mosque with the cream and brown walls. There is the little mosque with its green roof. There is the mosque at the Arabic school. There is the beautiful big mosque right next to the Christian churches. There is a tiny mosque behind the far row of villas, with a little bench outside.
And those are the ones I have seen so far. There are bound to be others, of all shapes and sizes. You are never far from a mosque, so answering the call to prayer is never a burden for those wishing to pray.
The first call comes at dawn, with the rising of the sun. The first voice goes, quickly followed by the calls from the other mosques, over their loudspeakers. It is discordant at first, but becomes an unusual harmony that has come to mark the passing of time.
When I first moved here, the calls were odd, strange, a reminder that this was not my home, that I was somewhere else.
Now, as I have become used to them, it reminds me of where I am and what needs to be done.
There are six prayers held daily. The prayers are made according to the position of the sun or moon, your location and vary daily. Today (Friday, 18 February), the first prayer (known as Fajr) was at 5:34 am. I hear it as I wake, knowing that soon my alarm will go off, and I will need to get up. The next prayer (known as Shuruq) was at 6:54am, and during the week, this reminds me that it is nearly time to get my older daughter to school. The lunchtime prayer (known as Dhuhr) will be at 12:36pm. When the Asr prayer is called at 4pm, I know its time to think about cooking supper. And the Maghrib prayer (tonight at 6:19pm) tells me that its definitely supper time and that the sun is setting. The last prayer of the day (Ishaa) tells me its getting late (its 7:49pm), and that night is here.
While these sounds may remind me of my daily routine, it has recently become significant in another way.
It tells me that people are praying. Which in this chaotic world of ours, is a good thing. People are praying to be better people, for a better world. It’s a thing of peace.
I am sure that it was similar in the old days when church bells were rung to mark the Catholic prayer times. I don’t think many churches do this anymore. You’d probably hear it in Ireland, and probably in Rome. But very few places would ring out the bells to mark the Angelus (a catholic prayer). And its sad.
To me, the ritual of the regular prayers has become a symbol of hope. I may not believe the same as what they do, but I appreciate their efforts. They are trying, in their own way, to be more of themselves.
Surely we should be doing that too?
Desert Notes: The Backside
Most countries develop their own unique subset of idioms and idiosyncrasies in the spoken word. Think “ja nee” or “just now” or “robots.” South Africans would understand exactly what I just wrote, but others would be rather confused.
The UAE has also developed its own version of the English language. Known to some as “Dinglish” or ”Dublish” (Dubai English), it contains words from Arabic, Urdu and Hindi amongst others.
By far the most popular adopted word is the Arabic word “khallas.” Pronounced with the same guttural “g” sound that Afrikaans uses (as in ghallas), it means “finished.” You hear parents telling their kids “Khallas!” when there are no more sweets, or when they have had enough of their nonsense. It also means a deal has been closed. It peppers conversations everywhere.
Another favourite with expats is the Arabic phrase “mafi mushkila” which means “no problem.” I like this one!
I hear what sounds like “schway schway” on a regular basis from all different cultures, but I have yet to figure out exactly what it is. I get the feeling from the context that it might be “hurry up” or “quickly.”
Then there are the English phrases that have taken on a slightly different meaning.
If someone is away from his desk for example, you will likely be told “he is not on his seat.”
And then there is the phrase “same same” which simply means that two things are, well, the same. For example, my children are same same. Which means I have two girls. When they were measuring for our curtains, we wanted same same throughout the lounge. You get the picture?
I’ve mentioned before the business about things happening inshallah (if/when Allah wills it). There are some variations. If a person says “today itself” they mean it will actually happen today rather than “today inshallah” which could mean anytime between now and next week. You could be more specific and say “today afternoon” or “today morning” if you prefer.
One of the classics which I have come to love is “backside.” Initially I didn’t quite know why people commented on it. It does not mean your bum. It does not mean your back. It is used in reference to giving directions.
I had to try very hard not to laugh the first time I had it said to me. I phoned to get directions to a hair salon, and when the receptionist told me it was at the backside of the hotel, I nearly fell off my chair.
Buildings have backsides you see. Not “back entrances” or “rear entrances.” They have backsides. And that’s the way the say it – backside. Not back SPACE side. Backside.
One of the phrases that can inadvertently cause offence is the question “What is your good name, sir?” For people unfamiliar with the phrase, it can cause them to stop and wonder whether they have a bad name too. It simply means that the person is requesting your name.
And you are most likely to be called “Mr John” as opposed to “Mr Smith.” Your name is of importance here, and your surname merely an indicator of your family name (sometimes known as the fathers name). And the term “Mr” is a mark of respect. If you don’t know someone, or aren’t invited to call them directly by their first name, stick the Mr in front. Or in the case of a lady, Miss.
Women do not carry their husband’s names after marriage. They keep their fathers name. For example, a man would be Mr Ali Bin Khalifa Al Mansoor. He would be known as Mr Ali. “Bin” means “son of” and “Khalifa Al Mansoor” is his father. For woman, it would be Miss Fatma Bint Khalifa Al Mansoor, “Bint” meaning “daughter of.” If I were a UAE national, my name would be Ms Mandy Bint Thomas Snashall.
It took me a while to getting used to being called Miss Mandy and to hear my husband called Mr Colin. It was especially funny when our furniture was delivered, and the English got mangled. The delivery note was very clearly made out to Mr Colon.
Mafi mushkila. Desert Notes is khallas for this week. I’m off to meet Mr Colon at the backside of the villa.
The UAE has also developed its own version of the English language. Known to some as “Dinglish” or ”Dublish” (Dubai English), it contains words from Arabic, Urdu and Hindi amongst others.
By far the most popular adopted word is the Arabic word “khallas.” Pronounced with the same guttural “g” sound that Afrikaans uses (as in ghallas), it means “finished.” You hear parents telling their kids “Khallas!” when there are no more sweets, or when they have had enough of their nonsense. It also means a deal has been closed. It peppers conversations everywhere.
Another favourite with expats is the Arabic phrase “mafi mushkila” which means “no problem.” I like this one!
I hear what sounds like “schway schway” on a regular basis from all different cultures, but I have yet to figure out exactly what it is. I get the feeling from the context that it might be “hurry up” or “quickly.”
Then there are the English phrases that have taken on a slightly different meaning.
If someone is away from his desk for example, you will likely be told “he is not on his seat.”
And then there is the phrase “same same” which simply means that two things are, well, the same. For example, my children are same same. Which means I have two girls. When they were measuring for our curtains, we wanted same same throughout the lounge. You get the picture?
I’ve mentioned before the business about things happening inshallah (if/when Allah wills it). There are some variations. If a person says “today itself” they mean it will actually happen today rather than “today inshallah” which could mean anytime between now and next week. You could be more specific and say “today afternoon” or “today morning” if you prefer.
One of the classics which I have come to love is “backside.” Initially I didn’t quite know why people commented on it. It does not mean your bum. It does not mean your back. It is used in reference to giving directions.
I had to try very hard not to laugh the first time I had it said to me. I phoned to get directions to a hair salon, and when the receptionist told me it was at the backside of the hotel, I nearly fell off my chair.
Buildings have backsides you see. Not “back entrances” or “rear entrances.” They have backsides. And that’s the way the say it – backside. Not back SPACE side. Backside.
One of the phrases that can inadvertently cause offence is the question “What is your good name, sir?” For people unfamiliar with the phrase, it can cause them to stop and wonder whether they have a bad name too. It simply means that the person is requesting your name.
And you are most likely to be called “Mr John” as opposed to “Mr Smith.” Your name is of importance here, and your surname merely an indicator of your family name (sometimes known as the fathers name). And the term “Mr” is a mark of respect. If you don’t know someone, or aren’t invited to call them directly by their first name, stick the Mr in front. Or in the case of a lady, Miss.
Women do not carry their husband’s names after marriage. They keep their fathers name. For example, a man would be Mr Ali Bin Khalifa Al Mansoor. He would be known as Mr Ali. “Bin” means “son of” and “Khalifa Al Mansoor” is his father. For woman, it would be Miss Fatma Bint Khalifa Al Mansoor, “Bint” meaning “daughter of.” If I were a UAE national, my name would be Ms Mandy Bint Thomas Snashall.
It took me a while to getting used to being called Miss Mandy and to hear my husband called Mr Colin. It was especially funny when our furniture was delivered, and the English got mangled. The delivery note was very clearly made out to Mr Colon.
Mafi mushkila. Desert Notes is khallas for this week. I’m off to meet Mr Colon at the backside of the villa.
Desert Notes: The Chill of Winter
Its winter in the UAE. I know this because the shops are selling big woolly jerseys, heavy jackets, scarves and gloves. And the locals are getting cold.
And the amazing thing is that the daytime temperatures have yet to drop below 30 degrees Celsius.
The weather in Abu Dhabi has a bizarre fascination for me. Mostly because it can generally be described as variations on the theme of hot.
You get hot and humid. Hot and dry. Hot and windy. Hot and sandy. Hot and muggy. Hotter. Slightly less hot. And lots of sunshine.
During the summer, I feel dreadfully sorry for the person who has to write the daily weather reports for The Gulf News. How many ways can you think of to say “hot and sunny”? The poor slob who has been lumbered with the task does try. We get descriptions like “hot and sunny” and “sunny and hot” and even occasionally “hot with plenty of sunshine.”
So how hot does the summer actually get? The guide books will tell you that from May to September daytime temperatures are in the low to mid-40’s. In July and August it will sit at around 46 to 48 degrees. Occasionally it actually does reach 50. With a relative humidity of between 60 – 90%.
It sounds all impressive. But what does it actually mean in real life?
You can save a lot on your electricity bill if your water tank is on your roof (as most are). Because the water is hot enough not to actually need your geyser (or boiler as they call it here).
It also means that everywhere is air conditioned. Your house. Your car. The shops. Schools. Churches. Mosques. Every damn place you can think of.
The aircon everywhere thing is great. Except on really humid days if you wear glasses, because then the minute you step outside your glasses mist over it is really very annoying.
I hate the humidity. It’s the absolute worst thing. On the days with humidity about 70% and 46 degree temperatures it is pretty much like walking around in a sauna when you are outside. And you’d simply love just to dive into the nearest swimming pool.
Except that the swimming pools have to be specially cooled to make swimming a refreshing experience and not like having a warm bath.
Which brings me back to the subject of winter in Abu Dhabi.
It is definitely noticeably cooler. It really is. Just the drop from 46 to 42 could be felt, and now that it has actually been in the 30’s, I’ve been able to let the kids go and play outside in the afternoons.
The sight of a cloud actually gets people excited. And we even had rain yesterday. At least 5 drops fell on our windscreen!
But the thought of the winter woollies they are selling in the shops still amazes me. The average winter temperature is apparently 22 degrees Celsius. But the clothing on sale is more suited to a European winter.
I can’t help giggling though, at the reactions of those who have been living here for a long time.
My eldest daughter was at a swimming party recently. It was held late afternoon, and the temperature must have been in the mid-thirties. The waiter brought a round of softdrinks for the kids and one of the mothers nearly had hysterics at the sight of ice in the glass. She complained that the kids had just been swimming and the ice in the softdrink would make the kids too cold….
And recently, while waiting outside the classroom to fetch the kids from school, a couple of the mums were talking about the swimming lessons. One mum was saying that it is starting to get “too cold” for the children to swim, and she was worried her child would get the flu. The temperature on the day in question was about 34 degrees.
I think it has all got to do with what you’re used to. When you have been sitting with 46 degree temperatures for a couple of months, 22 degrees does actually feel cold.
I should know. I have a jersey on. Because the thermostat on our air conditioner appears to be stuck on 24 degrees Celsius, and I’m cold.
I knew it. I’ve gone local. Or is that loco?
And the amazing thing is that the daytime temperatures have yet to drop below 30 degrees Celsius.
The weather in Abu Dhabi has a bizarre fascination for me. Mostly because it can generally be described as variations on the theme of hot.
You get hot and humid. Hot and dry. Hot and windy. Hot and sandy. Hot and muggy. Hotter. Slightly less hot. And lots of sunshine.
During the summer, I feel dreadfully sorry for the person who has to write the daily weather reports for The Gulf News. How many ways can you think of to say “hot and sunny”? The poor slob who has been lumbered with the task does try. We get descriptions like “hot and sunny” and “sunny and hot” and even occasionally “hot with plenty of sunshine.”
So how hot does the summer actually get? The guide books will tell you that from May to September daytime temperatures are in the low to mid-40’s. In July and August it will sit at around 46 to 48 degrees. Occasionally it actually does reach 50. With a relative humidity of between 60 – 90%.
It sounds all impressive. But what does it actually mean in real life?
You can save a lot on your electricity bill if your water tank is on your roof (as most are). Because the water is hot enough not to actually need your geyser (or boiler as they call it here).
It also means that everywhere is air conditioned. Your house. Your car. The shops. Schools. Churches. Mosques. Every damn place you can think of.
The aircon everywhere thing is great. Except on really humid days if you wear glasses, because then the minute you step outside your glasses mist over it is really very annoying.
I hate the humidity. It’s the absolute worst thing. On the days with humidity about 70% and 46 degree temperatures it is pretty much like walking around in a sauna when you are outside. And you’d simply love just to dive into the nearest swimming pool.
Except that the swimming pools have to be specially cooled to make swimming a refreshing experience and not like having a warm bath.
Which brings me back to the subject of winter in Abu Dhabi.
It is definitely noticeably cooler. It really is. Just the drop from 46 to 42 could be felt, and now that it has actually been in the 30’s, I’ve been able to let the kids go and play outside in the afternoons.
The sight of a cloud actually gets people excited. And we even had rain yesterday. At least 5 drops fell on our windscreen!
But the thought of the winter woollies they are selling in the shops still amazes me. The average winter temperature is apparently 22 degrees Celsius. But the clothing on sale is more suited to a European winter.
I can’t help giggling though, at the reactions of those who have been living here for a long time.
My eldest daughter was at a swimming party recently. It was held late afternoon, and the temperature must have been in the mid-thirties. The waiter brought a round of softdrinks for the kids and one of the mothers nearly had hysterics at the sight of ice in the glass. She complained that the kids had just been swimming and the ice in the softdrink would make the kids too cold….
And recently, while waiting outside the classroom to fetch the kids from school, a couple of the mums were talking about the swimming lessons. One mum was saying that it is starting to get “too cold” for the children to swim, and she was worried her child would get the flu. The temperature on the day in question was about 34 degrees.
I think it has all got to do with what you’re used to. When you have been sitting with 46 degree temperatures for a couple of months, 22 degrees does actually feel cold.
I should know. I have a jersey on. Because the thermostat on our air conditioner appears to be stuck on 24 degrees Celsius, and I’m cold.
I knew it. I’ve gone local. Or is that loco?
Desert Notes: Achin' for some bacon
I am sure you remember the scene from Lion King where Timon and Pumba try to distract the hyenas. It goes something like this…..
Are you achin’… (Yup, yup, yup.)
For some bacon. (Yup, yup, yup.)
He’s a big pig. (Yup, yup.)
You can be a big pig, too. Oy!
Unless you know where to buy it in Abu Dhabi, you’ll be achin’ for some bacon too.
Being a Moslem country, pork and pork products are not readily available. You need to go to a speciality store with a special pork section. In Abu Dhabi, Spinneys is your best bet. There, in a separate alcove, marked clearly “Not for Moslems” is the pork section.
It’s a Bavarian’s dream come true. Pork sausages. Pork chops. Pork roasts. Pork pies. Ham. Bacon.
And stuff with pork in it. Like Pea & Ham soup. Spam – the original version, not the e-mailed kind. Sauces. Soups. Cans. Even tins of baked beans with pork bits. If it has even been near a pig, it is in this section.
Of course, you pay an absolute premium for it too. Say 25 dirhams (make that around R40) for a big packet of bacon. From Kenya nogal. And that’s the cheap frozen stuff!
So if piggy meat’s your fancy, that’s where you shop. At Spinneys.
But that’s not to say you can’t order bacon and egg breakfast or a ham sandwich at a restaurant. You can. It just won’t quite be what you’re expecting. Mostly because it never contains pork. It is made from just about everything else.
And it tickles me every time. All cold meats are “ham” you see. Whether they contain pork or not. So if you fancy you could buy some chicken ham. Or turkey ham. Or veal ham. Or beef ham.
Same with bacon. Bet you never thought you’d see a real South African breakfast (as sold by Mugg & Bean) served with veal bacon.
And to be truthful, it is not that bad. The turkey versions are pretty okay. Same with the veal. The chicken ham on the other hand is just awful. Chickens do really bad pig impersonations.
Some of it is made so well it can fool into believing it’s the real thing. In fact, at Fuddruckers (the equivalent of Spur in Abu Dhabi), my husband and I argued over whether our Outback burger contained real bacon or not. Because it sure tasted real. It wasn’t of course, but it was damn close.
Guaranteed that if a group of South Africans get together for a formal meal, it’ll be roast pork. And on the braai, someone will have brought pork chops. I do mean chutney marinade that goes really well with pork chops.
The only thing they haven’t managed to translate properly is boerewors. There was a packet of what looked like wors, and was labelled “South African Boerewors” at the supermarket recently. So of course we bought a pack.
The tannies who make the real thing back home would have died of shame at the mere thought that this was boeries.
Did you know that boerewors is the only South African meat product to have its ingredients government gazetted? True, I swear. What we bought certainly hadn’t read the gazette.
It was mostly soya. Terribly disappointing. But we ate it anyway. Because it said boerewors.
When I go home in mid-November, I’ve placed my order with my family. I want a braai. With big fat pork chops and boerewors. And I’ll be at Wimpy the following morning for breakfast. More specifically, for a Hashbrown Splashdown. With extra bacon. Most definitely the piggy kind!
Are you achin’… (Yup, yup, yup.)
For some bacon. (Yup, yup, yup.)
He’s a big pig. (Yup, yup.)
You can be a big pig, too. Oy!
Unless you know where to buy it in Abu Dhabi, you’ll be achin’ for some bacon too.
Being a Moslem country, pork and pork products are not readily available. You need to go to a speciality store with a special pork section. In Abu Dhabi, Spinneys is your best bet. There, in a separate alcove, marked clearly “Not for Moslems” is the pork section.
It’s a Bavarian’s dream come true. Pork sausages. Pork chops. Pork roasts. Pork pies. Ham. Bacon.
And stuff with pork in it. Like Pea & Ham soup. Spam – the original version, not the e-mailed kind. Sauces. Soups. Cans. Even tins of baked beans with pork bits. If it has even been near a pig, it is in this section.
Of course, you pay an absolute premium for it too. Say 25 dirhams (make that around R40) for a big packet of bacon. From Kenya nogal. And that’s the cheap frozen stuff!
So if piggy meat’s your fancy, that’s where you shop. At Spinneys.
But that’s not to say you can’t order bacon and egg breakfast or a ham sandwich at a restaurant. You can. It just won’t quite be what you’re expecting. Mostly because it never contains pork. It is made from just about everything else.
And it tickles me every time. All cold meats are “ham” you see. Whether they contain pork or not. So if you fancy you could buy some chicken ham. Or turkey ham. Or veal ham. Or beef ham.
Same with bacon. Bet you never thought you’d see a real South African breakfast (as sold by Mugg & Bean) served with veal bacon.
And to be truthful, it is not that bad. The turkey versions are pretty okay. Same with the veal. The chicken ham on the other hand is just awful. Chickens do really bad pig impersonations.
Some of it is made so well it can fool into believing it’s the real thing. In fact, at Fuddruckers (the equivalent of Spur in Abu Dhabi), my husband and I argued over whether our Outback burger contained real bacon or not. Because it sure tasted real. It wasn’t of course, but it was damn close.
Guaranteed that if a group of South Africans get together for a formal meal, it’ll be roast pork. And on the braai, someone will have brought pork chops. I do mean chutney marinade that goes really well with pork chops.
The only thing they haven’t managed to translate properly is boerewors. There was a packet of what looked like wors, and was labelled “South African Boerewors” at the supermarket recently. So of course we bought a pack.
The tannies who make the real thing back home would have died of shame at the mere thought that this was boeries.
Did you know that boerewors is the only South African meat product to have its ingredients government gazetted? True, I swear. What we bought certainly hadn’t read the gazette.
It was mostly soya. Terribly disappointing. But we ate it anyway. Because it said boerewors.
When I go home in mid-November, I’ve placed my order with my family. I want a braai. With big fat pork chops and boerewors. And I’ll be at Wimpy the following morning for breakfast. More specifically, for a Hashbrown Splashdown. With extra bacon. Most definitely the piggy kind!
Desert Notes: Ramadam Kareem!
Ramadan Kareem!
15 October 2004 marked the start of Ramadan – a month of special significance to those of the Islamic faith. Living in an Islamic country gave me the opportunity to experience it first hand.
I have been looking forward to experiencing Ramadan ever since I arrived in the UAE. Mostly because I had heard so many different things about it: “Everything shuts down” “There is nothing to do.” “You’ve got to be extra conservative.” “There are wild parties at night.” “You’ve got to stay indoors.”
Some of this proved to be true. And some not so true.
Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and is of special significance for Moslems because they believe this was the month when the angel Gabriel gave the Prophet Mohammed the Qu’ran.
During this month, Moslems are expected to fast from sunrise to sunset, and to abstain from smoking, sex and anything considered “haraam” (impure). It is a time of repentance, prayer, and spirituality. The Qu’ran is read through at least once, and additional prayers are said at night. There is also an increased focus on family, hospitality and charity.
Before sunrise, a light meal is eaten prior to beginning the fast. The fast is broken when the sun sets with a meal known as “Iftar.”
The Ramadan fast is broken with Eid al-Fitr (literally “the festival of the breaking of the fast”) when people dress in their best clothes, share gifts, and decorate their homes with lights.
All Moslems, except for children, pregnant or breastfeeding mothers, women who are menstruating, the elderly and the ill, have to partake in the fast. Those who are forced to miss the fast due to the reasons listed are expected to make up the missed days – either by fasting at a later date, or by providing food to a poor person.
In an Islamic country, Ramadan has a big impact on daily life, but it has not been nearly as bad as I had been led to believe. I was under the impression that all the shops would be shut, but fortunately I was wrong!
The restaurants, take-away places, cafes and small grocery shops are closed until 5pm, but most other retail outlets are open. Shopping hours do change though, and instead of being open until 10 or 11pm, the shops close between 1 and 2am.
During the day things are much quieter. Most government institutions open an hour later than normal, and most businesses close at 2pm.
People will often spend this time at rest, with family or in prayer.
There are collection points at mosques, shopping centres and schools where Moslems can drop off their charitable donations. Feeding stations for the poor are also set up.
The fast is traditionally broken with dates, which are of special significance in the Moslem world as this is what Mohammed ate, and it is mentioned in the Qu’ran. Did you know that Allah instructed Mary to eat dates while she was pregnant with Jesus?
Just before the sunset prayers, you see everyone walking towards a mosque, often carrying containers of dates and plates of food, and these are shared communally at Iftar after prayers have been completed.
Hotels and restaurants offer Iftar buffet meals, and offer traditional food, music by oud players and things like backgammon and chess tournaments. I have not yet been able to go to one of these Iftar tents, but I plan to! I can’t wait to taste the delicacies on offer.
I had heard stories about wild parties along the Corniche (Abu Dhabi waterfront) and my family and I decided to experience it for ourselves last night.
Our walk proved to be a far cry from what we had heard. There were definitely more people than usual, but no wild parties. Just eating and a relaxed atmosphere. Kids were playing like kids should. On roller skates, on bikes, even a game of cricket was going on. Nothing noisy, just like a casual family picnic. Except it was at night!
I had also been warned that I should dress more conservatively and ensure that I did not eat, drink, smoke or chew gum in public. I was happy to comply, but was a bit concerned at how conservative I should dress. So I went out and bought a shawl, and wrapped it around my shoulders on the first day of Ramadan. It proved unnecessary. As long as you aren’t wearing a mini skirt, shorts, strappy or midriff tops, it is quite fine. I’ve pretty much worn my normal clothing except for the strappy sundresses.
While commercialism of Ramadan has happened to a degree, it is no where nearly commercialised as Christmas and Easter are in the Western world. You can get Ramadan greeting cards, shops are festooned with the words “Ramadan Kareem” (Ramadan is generous) and there are lots of “special offers” mostly focused on the breaking of the fast and the idea of hospitality. This could range from a special offer on pots and pans at the supermarket, to the KFC’s 20 dirham eat-as-much-as-you like Iftar special, or the Dubai branch of Nando’s offering to donate 10% of the value of your meal to the charity of your choice!
Ramadan has been an interesting learning experience so far, and has given me plenty to think about. What do you think?
15 October 2004 marked the start of Ramadan – a month of special significance to those of the Islamic faith. Living in an Islamic country gave me the opportunity to experience it first hand.
I have been looking forward to experiencing Ramadan ever since I arrived in the UAE. Mostly because I had heard so many different things about it: “Everything shuts down” “There is nothing to do.” “You’ve got to be extra conservative.” “There are wild parties at night.” “You’ve got to stay indoors.”
Some of this proved to be true. And some not so true.
Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and is of special significance for Moslems because they believe this was the month when the angel Gabriel gave the Prophet Mohammed the Qu’ran.
During this month, Moslems are expected to fast from sunrise to sunset, and to abstain from smoking, sex and anything considered “haraam” (impure). It is a time of repentance, prayer, and spirituality. The Qu’ran is read through at least once, and additional prayers are said at night. There is also an increased focus on family, hospitality and charity.
Before sunrise, a light meal is eaten prior to beginning the fast. The fast is broken when the sun sets with a meal known as “Iftar.”
The Ramadan fast is broken with Eid al-Fitr (literally “the festival of the breaking of the fast”) when people dress in their best clothes, share gifts, and decorate their homes with lights.
All Moslems, except for children, pregnant or breastfeeding mothers, women who are menstruating, the elderly and the ill, have to partake in the fast. Those who are forced to miss the fast due to the reasons listed are expected to make up the missed days – either by fasting at a later date, or by providing food to a poor person.
In an Islamic country, Ramadan has a big impact on daily life, but it has not been nearly as bad as I had been led to believe. I was under the impression that all the shops would be shut, but fortunately I was wrong!
The restaurants, take-away places, cafes and small grocery shops are closed until 5pm, but most other retail outlets are open. Shopping hours do change though, and instead of being open until 10 or 11pm, the shops close between 1 and 2am.
During the day things are much quieter. Most government institutions open an hour later than normal, and most businesses close at 2pm.
People will often spend this time at rest, with family or in prayer.
There are collection points at mosques, shopping centres and schools where Moslems can drop off their charitable donations. Feeding stations for the poor are also set up.
The fast is traditionally broken with dates, which are of special significance in the Moslem world as this is what Mohammed ate, and it is mentioned in the Qu’ran. Did you know that Allah instructed Mary to eat dates while she was pregnant with Jesus?
Just before the sunset prayers, you see everyone walking towards a mosque, often carrying containers of dates and plates of food, and these are shared communally at Iftar after prayers have been completed.
Hotels and restaurants offer Iftar buffet meals, and offer traditional food, music by oud players and things like backgammon and chess tournaments. I have not yet been able to go to one of these Iftar tents, but I plan to! I can’t wait to taste the delicacies on offer.
I had heard stories about wild parties along the Corniche (Abu Dhabi waterfront) and my family and I decided to experience it for ourselves last night.
Our walk proved to be a far cry from what we had heard. There were definitely more people than usual, but no wild parties. Just eating and a relaxed atmosphere. Kids were playing like kids should. On roller skates, on bikes, even a game of cricket was going on. Nothing noisy, just like a casual family picnic. Except it was at night!
I had also been warned that I should dress more conservatively and ensure that I did not eat, drink, smoke or chew gum in public. I was happy to comply, but was a bit concerned at how conservative I should dress. So I went out and bought a shawl, and wrapped it around my shoulders on the first day of Ramadan. It proved unnecessary. As long as you aren’t wearing a mini skirt, shorts, strappy or midriff tops, it is quite fine. I’ve pretty much worn my normal clothing except for the strappy sundresses.
While commercialism of Ramadan has happened to a degree, it is no where nearly commercialised as Christmas and Easter are in the Western world. You can get Ramadan greeting cards, shops are festooned with the words “Ramadan Kareem” (Ramadan is generous) and there are lots of “special offers” mostly focused on the breaking of the fast and the idea of hospitality. This could range from a special offer on pots and pans at the supermarket, to the KFC’s 20 dirham eat-as-much-as-you like Iftar special, or the Dubai branch of Nando’s offering to donate 10% of the value of your meal to the charity of your choice!
Ramadan has been an interesting learning experience so far, and has given me plenty to think about. What do you think?
Desert Notes: Being South African
I’ve always considered myself to be “Proudly South African,” but even more so since moving to the UAE.
The standard introductory chatter when meeting new people in Abu Dhabi contains two primary questions. You’ll get asked “So, how long have you been here?” quickly followed by “And where are you from originally?”
And it is really cool to be able to say “South Africa.” Because just 10 short years ago, the reaction to my answer wouldn’t have been very positive at all. But now it is. And I find myself standing up straighter, smiling brightly when I say it. Because the country has done so much, come so far, and in general most South Africans I know (those still at home, and those overseas) have a positive outlook about its future.
One South African lady I met recently agrees. It’s about claiming your identity and believing in the country’s future. She said that she has proudly stuck an SA flag on the bumper of her car. Something she would have cringed at back in SA, but over here, it’s a mark of belonging.
Nobody ever asks “Why did you come here?” because no matter where you are from in the world, people come to the UAE to make money. Though many, in a deeper conversation, will ask about the crime and those with kids will ask about the standards of education.
There is a large community of South Africans in the UAE. There is talk the number, around 20 000 people, now exceeds the number of British expatriates. And considering that before it became the United Arab Emirates in the 1970’s, the area, which was then known as the Trucal States, was a British protectorate.
There are a number of South African clubs, one of which hosted a get-together in Abu Dhabi recently. There were over 140 attendees. And it was advertised purely by word of mouth! There are plenty of websites offering information and support for SA expats too. And I simply just love the name of the Abu Dhabi South African Ladies Group – they call themselves the Koeksuster Club!
And while, for the most part, people are positive in hearing your origins, you also get some odd comments too. Our accent is occasionally confused with that of the Australians or the British. And once, very surprisingly, my husband was asked if he was from Italy.
I have had a few odd reactions from some people though. Particularly from non-Western (i.e. Europe and North America) countries. One Philipino lady had never heard of South Africa, Nelson Mandela, Cape Town or Johannesburg, and kept on shaking her head every time I tried to describe where it was. Where AFRICA was. Oh to realise that your country is not the centre of the world!
But far more common is the “black” reaction. On hearing my country of origin, the listener gets this shocked look. And then the comment: “But you’re not black! I thought only black people came from Africa.”
One chap got quite adamant about it with my husband. When my husband explained that his ancestors originally came from Britain, the man made his point. “You’re British then!” he said. And no matter how hard we tried to explain that we are South Africans with a British heritage, he simply didn’t get it. Because we are white. Therefore we can’t be African.
But I am. I cannot wait to get home. And although I am happy here, my heart lies in Africa. In South Africa. It always will be. Because I am “Proudly South African.”
The standard introductory chatter when meeting new people in Abu Dhabi contains two primary questions. You’ll get asked “So, how long have you been here?” quickly followed by “And where are you from originally?”
And it is really cool to be able to say “South Africa.” Because just 10 short years ago, the reaction to my answer wouldn’t have been very positive at all. But now it is. And I find myself standing up straighter, smiling brightly when I say it. Because the country has done so much, come so far, and in general most South Africans I know (those still at home, and those overseas) have a positive outlook about its future.
One South African lady I met recently agrees. It’s about claiming your identity and believing in the country’s future. She said that she has proudly stuck an SA flag on the bumper of her car. Something she would have cringed at back in SA, but over here, it’s a mark of belonging.
Nobody ever asks “Why did you come here?” because no matter where you are from in the world, people come to the UAE to make money. Though many, in a deeper conversation, will ask about the crime and those with kids will ask about the standards of education.
There is a large community of South Africans in the UAE. There is talk the number, around 20 000 people, now exceeds the number of British expatriates. And considering that before it became the United Arab Emirates in the 1970’s, the area, which was then known as the Trucal States, was a British protectorate.
There are a number of South African clubs, one of which hosted a get-together in Abu Dhabi recently. There were over 140 attendees. And it was advertised purely by word of mouth! There are plenty of websites offering information and support for SA expats too. And I simply just love the name of the Abu Dhabi South African Ladies Group – they call themselves the Koeksuster Club!
And while, for the most part, people are positive in hearing your origins, you also get some odd comments too. Our accent is occasionally confused with that of the Australians or the British. And once, very surprisingly, my husband was asked if he was from Italy.
I have had a few odd reactions from some people though. Particularly from non-Western (i.e. Europe and North America) countries. One Philipino lady had never heard of South Africa, Nelson Mandela, Cape Town or Johannesburg, and kept on shaking her head every time I tried to describe where it was. Where AFRICA was. Oh to realise that your country is not the centre of the world!
But far more common is the “black” reaction. On hearing my country of origin, the listener gets this shocked look. And then the comment: “But you’re not black! I thought only black people came from Africa.”
One chap got quite adamant about it with my husband. When my husband explained that his ancestors originally came from Britain, the man made his point. “You’re British then!” he said. And no matter how hard we tried to explain that we are South Africans with a British heritage, he simply didn’t get it. Because we are white. Therefore we can’t be African.
But I am. I cannot wait to get home. And although I am happy here, my heart lies in Africa. In South Africa. It always will be. Because I am “Proudly South African.”
Desert Notes: Wish List
All expatriate South Africans have things they miss, and speciality stores all over the world do a roaring trade in things like Mrs Ball’s Chutney and Pronutro. After reading some posts on the forum this week about mayonnaise, Cape Town vs. South Africa, I was compelled to write my own “Expat’s Wish List.”
Family. This would have to be at the top of my list. Although the weekly phone calls are great, it is not quite the same as being able to go up and give someone a big hug. And you end up missing stuff too – like birthday parties, celebrations, special achievements, bad days and good days. I can’t wait to see them all in November.
Decent toilet paper. Seriously. The toilet paper here is terrible. In SA I was quite happy to buy relatively inexpensive stuff; after all, it is what you use to wipe your butt. But because of cultural differences, toilet paper here takes second place to tissue and water. Most homes are fitted with a bidet for post-toilet washing, and public loos have a hand-held sprayer thingamabob. So cheap toilet paper doesn’t matter to those comfortable with the watery route. But it doesn’t work for me. So after some experiments with the cheap stuff, I gave up. Now we buy French toilet paper that smells like vanilla. It’s expensive. But it’s worth it!
Mayonnaise. I love mayonnaise. And it is available here. But it is generally American, and it is generally terrible - bland and boring, and doesn’t have that “tang” that SA mayo does. So I had my sister post me some. Seriously. I bet the customs official thought I was crazy. On the odd occasion that Spinneys (a supermarket chain that sometimes stocks South African products) has real mayonnaise available, I go mad. And buy as much as I can. But it’s never enough….
Chutney. Obviously. But I’m not as fussy as some, and would quite happily settle for Wellingtons or Mrs Balls. My sister sent me some of this too. But we’ve run out, and Spinneys hasn’t had any in for AGES. I’ll give out my postal address to anyone willing to mail me some.
Pikitup. For those outside of Gauteng, Pikitup is the local municipal refuse removal service. And I never thought I’d miss it. It’s those neat little wheelie bins (one per household) and the regular weekly collection. Because what we have here bugs the hell out of me. Four or five villas share two dumpster type efforts, which are emptied at irregular intervals. And pretty much anything can be dumped into them – from furniture to last night’s supper. And not everyone uses rubbish bags. And not everyone has sufficiently good aim to actually get their rubbish into the dumpster. So all the neighbourhood strays, rats and other pests treat it like their very own restaurant. And the bloody dumpsters are parked in the street outside our villa. Not nice at all.
Jellybabies. While you do get jellybaby-type sweets here, they simply do not taste the same as SA jellybabies. So I had my mom send me some. And they were delicious. Except I was horrified to see that there were no black jellybabies. And they are my favourite! Is it a political correctness issue?
Squashes. As in vegetables. Things like gem squashes and pumpkins and similar veggies are difficult to get here. While there is a wide variety of other fruits and veggies, there is very little available in the squash family, except for the occasional butternut.
Variable weather. While living in a permanently sunny place is great, it really does get a bit much at times. The weather journalist in the Gulf News tries hard to make it interesting, but there is only so much you can do to describe the weather here: hot and sunny; plenty of sunshine; hot and windy; hot and humid; bright sunshine etc etc. I’d love a good thundershower. Complete with lightning and thunder and big heavy splashes of rain. I can’t say I miss the cold of winter, but a bit of a change would be nice.
The South African expat community here has an ongoing grapevine about what SA products are available. If Spinneys gets in stock of Pronutro, Oros, Weetbix, Maltabella, Black Cat peanut butter, Mrs Balls or Cross & Blackwell, you’ll hear about it quickly. But you’d better be even faster at getting to the shop. Because the products arrive so sporadically, people tend to stock up, and leave the shelves empty. One expat admitted to me that she bought about 6 boxes of Pronutro, just because she could!
But just in case you think I’m miserable here, there are plenty of things I like too. For example:
Free local phone calls. Yep, the monopoly service provider Etisalat does not charge for local calls: i.e. calls in the same area code. And as the whole of Abu Dhabi has just one area code (02) it works out pretty well!
The inter-nationality of its people. It’s amazing how many different nationalities there are over here. In one day you could chat to a person from Russia, as well as to people from India, Pakistan, the Philippines, France, Australia and the US. In my daughters class at school I know of at least four different nationalities already.
The inter-nationality of the groceries. Because very little is produced locally, the majority of the things in shops came from somewhere else first. And they always specify on the labels where exactly they came from. And it never fails to amaze me. For example, in my last grocery shop, my potatoes came from Lebanon, my tomatoes from Holland, my butternut from Jordan, my bananas from The Philippines and my grapes from South Africa! I often buy SA products just because I can, even though they are not always the cheapest. Hey, I’m proudly South African all the way.
But the absolute best thing for me about living in Abu Dhabi is the fact that I get to be a Stay At Home Mum. I never thought I’d be the housewifely type, but an incident just before we left sealed the deal for me. I was driving my daughter to nursery school, and myself to work. A daily two-hour commute to work, and an hour and a half home. In the traffic one morning, I spotted a very professional looking lady in a really spiffy car checking her child’s homework over the steering wheel, and I thought to myself – “hey, that could be me in a few years time.” And the thought was horrifying. I love my new life as a SAHM. I am able to be so much a part of my children’s lives, and it is very unlikely that I would ever be able to afford to do so in South Africa. So although I miss so much of South Africa, I’d rather miss that than miss out on being with my girls.
Family. This would have to be at the top of my list. Although the weekly phone calls are great, it is not quite the same as being able to go up and give someone a big hug. And you end up missing stuff too – like birthday parties, celebrations, special achievements, bad days and good days. I can’t wait to see them all in November.
Decent toilet paper. Seriously. The toilet paper here is terrible. In SA I was quite happy to buy relatively inexpensive stuff; after all, it is what you use to wipe your butt. But because of cultural differences, toilet paper here takes second place to tissue and water. Most homes are fitted with a bidet for post-toilet washing, and public loos have a hand-held sprayer thingamabob. So cheap toilet paper doesn’t matter to those comfortable with the watery route. But it doesn’t work for me. So after some experiments with the cheap stuff, I gave up. Now we buy French toilet paper that smells like vanilla. It’s expensive. But it’s worth it!
Mayonnaise. I love mayonnaise. And it is available here. But it is generally American, and it is generally terrible - bland and boring, and doesn’t have that “tang” that SA mayo does. So I had my sister post me some. Seriously. I bet the customs official thought I was crazy. On the odd occasion that Spinneys (a supermarket chain that sometimes stocks South African products) has real mayonnaise available, I go mad. And buy as much as I can. But it’s never enough….
Chutney. Obviously. But I’m not as fussy as some, and would quite happily settle for Wellingtons or Mrs Balls. My sister sent me some of this too. But we’ve run out, and Spinneys hasn’t had any in for AGES. I’ll give out my postal address to anyone willing to mail me some.
Pikitup. For those outside of Gauteng, Pikitup is the local municipal refuse removal service. And I never thought I’d miss it. It’s those neat little wheelie bins (one per household) and the regular weekly collection. Because what we have here bugs the hell out of me. Four or five villas share two dumpster type efforts, which are emptied at irregular intervals. And pretty much anything can be dumped into them – from furniture to last night’s supper. And not everyone uses rubbish bags. And not everyone has sufficiently good aim to actually get their rubbish into the dumpster. So all the neighbourhood strays, rats and other pests treat it like their very own restaurant. And the bloody dumpsters are parked in the street outside our villa. Not nice at all.
Jellybabies. While you do get jellybaby-type sweets here, they simply do not taste the same as SA jellybabies. So I had my mom send me some. And they were delicious. Except I was horrified to see that there were no black jellybabies. And they are my favourite! Is it a political correctness issue?
Squashes. As in vegetables. Things like gem squashes and pumpkins and similar veggies are difficult to get here. While there is a wide variety of other fruits and veggies, there is very little available in the squash family, except for the occasional butternut.
Variable weather. While living in a permanently sunny place is great, it really does get a bit much at times. The weather journalist in the Gulf News tries hard to make it interesting, but there is only so much you can do to describe the weather here: hot and sunny; plenty of sunshine; hot and windy; hot and humid; bright sunshine etc etc. I’d love a good thundershower. Complete with lightning and thunder and big heavy splashes of rain. I can’t say I miss the cold of winter, but a bit of a change would be nice.
The South African expat community here has an ongoing grapevine about what SA products are available. If Spinneys gets in stock of Pronutro, Oros, Weetbix, Maltabella, Black Cat peanut butter, Mrs Balls or Cross & Blackwell, you’ll hear about it quickly. But you’d better be even faster at getting to the shop. Because the products arrive so sporadically, people tend to stock up, and leave the shelves empty. One expat admitted to me that she bought about 6 boxes of Pronutro, just because she could!
But just in case you think I’m miserable here, there are plenty of things I like too. For example:
Free local phone calls. Yep, the monopoly service provider Etisalat does not charge for local calls: i.e. calls in the same area code. And as the whole of Abu Dhabi has just one area code (02) it works out pretty well!
The inter-nationality of its people. It’s amazing how many different nationalities there are over here. In one day you could chat to a person from Russia, as well as to people from India, Pakistan, the Philippines, France, Australia and the US. In my daughters class at school I know of at least four different nationalities already.
The inter-nationality of the groceries. Because very little is produced locally, the majority of the things in shops came from somewhere else first. And they always specify on the labels where exactly they came from. And it never fails to amaze me. For example, in my last grocery shop, my potatoes came from Lebanon, my tomatoes from Holland, my butternut from Jordan, my bananas from The Philippines and my grapes from South Africa! I often buy SA products just because I can, even though they are not always the cheapest. Hey, I’m proudly South African all the way.
But the absolute best thing for me about living in Abu Dhabi is the fact that I get to be a Stay At Home Mum. I never thought I’d be the housewifely type, but an incident just before we left sealed the deal for me. I was driving my daughter to nursery school, and myself to work. A daily two-hour commute to work, and an hour and a half home. In the traffic one morning, I spotted a very professional looking lady in a really spiffy car checking her child’s homework over the steering wheel, and I thought to myself – “hey, that could be me in a few years time.” And the thought was horrifying. I love my new life as a SAHM. I am able to be so much a part of my children’s lives, and it is very unlikely that I would ever be able to afford to do so in South Africa. So although I miss so much of South Africa, I’d rather miss that than miss out on being with my girls.
Desert Notes: Let's Go Shopping
My daughter E, who is one year old, doesn’t speak very much. One of her few really clear words is “shopping”. Its not surprising really, since the national pastime of the UAE appears to be just that – shopping.
Whether you fancy haute couture or bargain buys, Abu Dhabi offers the shopping experience you are looking for. Apart from the many malls that are found all over the island, there are small mini-retailers on the ground floor of most apartment blocks. There are also the traditional markets or souqs (or souks).
The souqs are the places to go if you like bargain hunting, and of course, if you like to haggle. In Abu Dhabi there are a few options: the Central Market, the Fish Market, the Fruit & Vegetable Market, the Livestock Market, the Carpet Souq and the Iranian Souq. There is also a Camel Souq but that’s out of town, somewhere near the camel-racing track.
The Central Market sells just about everything you could possibly imagine – from small household appliances to souvenirs. You can even buy a fake Rolex if you wanted. It was here that I made my first attempt at haggling. I bought a couple of very touristy type items to send back to the family at home – a fluffy camel that sings in Arabic and some Abu Dhabi t-shirts. The t-shirt vendor was the most fun to haggle with. It worked something like this:
I examined the t-shirts I was after, put them back and started to walk away. The enthusiastic vendor stopped me with an exuberant “Good day madam” and offered me another t-shirt to look at. I put on my most skeptical face and asked how much? The vendor pulled out a giant calculator and hastily tapped in some numbers then presented it with a flourish saying “For you madam, I give you the t-shirt at a very special price – only 45 dirhams”. I responded with a polite “No thank-you, that’s too much” and walked away slowly. The vendor called me back and pulled out the giant calculator again. More finger tapping and another offer - “Only for you madam, I make a price. For today only. 30 dirhams.” Now it was time to get down to real business. “How much if I want to buy 3 t-shirts then?” I asked. Out came the giant calculator again and after much to-ing and fro-ing, with some extravagant finger tapping and dramatic calculator flourishing we settled on 30 dirhams for all three t-shirts. And both the vendor and I walked away happy.
The general rule of thumb for tourists is to settle for half of what the vendor originally offered.
Unfortunately there was a rather large fire in the market recently, and many of the shops were destroyed. However, the mini-retailers are still at it, even though there are some sections of the market that are decidedly unsafe. Plans are in place to rebuild the market, this time fully covered, with air conditioning and designed more to look like a traditional Arabic marketplace.
While most of the other souqs are fairly self-explanatory, you may be wondering what an Iranian souq is. And no, unlike the Fish Market selling fish, the Iranian market does not sell Iranians. It sells everything else. A lot of plasticware – like garden tables, chairs, dustbins, much like what is sold alongside the roads in Johannesburg. There is also the usual assortment of small household appliances and electronic toys. Mostly manufactured in China. But the Iranian souq is actually more well known for its terracotta pots – lovely big ones!
If you don’t fancy sweating it out in the sun at the souqs, and are after a little more style and class, along with air conditioned comfort, then you can choose from the many malls around the island.
By far the biggest mall in terms of floor space and retail outlets is the Madinat Zayed Shopping Centre and its neighbour, the Madinat Zayed Gold Centre. The Gold Centre itself is dedicated almost entirely to jewelry stores. The only exception is a food court, a homewares store and the Daiso (a Japanese value chain). The entire first floor is dedicated to gold. Unfortunately you are not allowed to take photos inside, but it really is quite phenomenal.
The next two biggest are Abu Dhabi Mall and Marina Mall. These are the malls to visit if you are in to well-known brand names like Guess, GAP, Alfred Dunhill, Tiffanys, Bvlgari, Ikea, Radioshack, Starbucks et cetera. You mention a big brand and you will probably find a store to match it. It’s a dedicated shoppers paradise. For homesick expat South Africans, there is a Mugg & Bean at Abu Dhabi Mall and a Woolworths (regrettably no Woolies Foods) and a Truworths at Marina Mall.
There are plenty of other malls, mostly of the mini-mall variety – it all depends what you are looking for. Some malls focus exclusively on a particular area. There is one dedicated to traditional souvenirs, antiques, and carpets. Another is primarily clothing and shoes.
Almost every apartment blocks first two floors are taken up by some kind of shops. Whether it be the Rolls Royce dealership, a Marks & Spencer or your local corner grocery and hair “saloon” (more on these in a later column) there are shops everywhere selling almost anything you could possibly want. Except maybe for alcohol!
And I haven’t even BEEN to Dubai yet – which, from all accounts, is an even greater shoppers paradise! So if shopping is your passion, the UAE is definitely the place to be.
Whether you fancy haute couture or bargain buys, Abu Dhabi offers the shopping experience you are looking for. Apart from the many malls that are found all over the island, there are small mini-retailers on the ground floor of most apartment blocks. There are also the traditional markets or souqs (or souks).
The souqs are the places to go if you like bargain hunting, and of course, if you like to haggle. In Abu Dhabi there are a few options: the Central Market, the Fish Market, the Fruit & Vegetable Market, the Livestock Market, the Carpet Souq and the Iranian Souq. There is also a Camel Souq but that’s out of town, somewhere near the camel-racing track.
The Central Market sells just about everything you could possibly imagine – from small household appliances to souvenirs. You can even buy a fake Rolex if you wanted. It was here that I made my first attempt at haggling. I bought a couple of very touristy type items to send back to the family at home – a fluffy camel that sings in Arabic and some Abu Dhabi t-shirts. The t-shirt vendor was the most fun to haggle with. It worked something like this:
I examined the t-shirts I was after, put them back and started to walk away. The enthusiastic vendor stopped me with an exuberant “Good day madam” and offered me another t-shirt to look at. I put on my most skeptical face and asked how much? The vendor pulled out a giant calculator and hastily tapped in some numbers then presented it with a flourish saying “For you madam, I give you the t-shirt at a very special price – only 45 dirhams”. I responded with a polite “No thank-you, that’s too much” and walked away slowly. The vendor called me back and pulled out the giant calculator again. More finger tapping and another offer - “Only for you madam, I make a price. For today only. 30 dirhams.” Now it was time to get down to real business. “How much if I want to buy 3 t-shirts then?” I asked. Out came the giant calculator again and after much to-ing and fro-ing, with some extravagant finger tapping and dramatic calculator flourishing we settled on 30 dirhams for all three t-shirts. And both the vendor and I walked away happy.
The general rule of thumb for tourists is to settle for half of what the vendor originally offered.
Unfortunately there was a rather large fire in the market recently, and many of the shops were destroyed. However, the mini-retailers are still at it, even though there are some sections of the market that are decidedly unsafe. Plans are in place to rebuild the market, this time fully covered, with air conditioning and designed more to look like a traditional Arabic marketplace.
While most of the other souqs are fairly self-explanatory, you may be wondering what an Iranian souq is. And no, unlike the Fish Market selling fish, the Iranian market does not sell Iranians. It sells everything else. A lot of plasticware – like garden tables, chairs, dustbins, much like what is sold alongside the roads in Johannesburg. There is also the usual assortment of small household appliances and electronic toys. Mostly manufactured in China. But the Iranian souq is actually more well known for its terracotta pots – lovely big ones!
If you don’t fancy sweating it out in the sun at the souqs, and are after a little more style and class, along with air conditioned comfort, then you can choose from the many malls around the island.
By far the biggest mall in terms of floor space and retail outlets is the Madinat Zayed Shopping Centre and its neighbour, the Madinat Zayed Gold Centre. The Gold Centre itself is dedicated almost entirely to jewelry stores. The only exception is a food court, a homewares store and the Daiso (a Japanese value chain). The entire first floor is dedicated to gold. Unfortunately you are not allowed to take photos inside, but it really is quite phenomenal.
The next two biggest are Abu Dhabi Mall and Marina Mall. These are the malls to visit if you are in to well-known brand names like Guess, GAP, Alfred Dunhill, Tiffanys, Bvlgari, Ikea, Radioshack, Starbucks et cetera. You mention a big brand and you will probably find a store to match it. It’s a dedicated shoppers paradise. For homesick expat South Africans, there is a Mugg & Bean at Abu Dhabi Mall and a Woolworths (regrettably no Woolies Foods) and a Truworths at Marina Mall.
There are plenty of other malls, mostly of the mini-mall variety – it all depends what you are looking for. Some malls focus exclusively on a particular area. There is one dedicated to traditional souvenirs, antiques, and carpets. Another is primarily clothing and shoes.
Almost every apartment blocks first two floors are taken up by some kind of shops. Whether it be the Rolls Royce dealership, a Marks & Spencer or your local corner grocery and hair “saloon” (more on these in a later column) there are shops everywhere selling almost anything you could possibly want. Except maybe for alcohol!
And I haven’t even BEEN to Dubai yet – which, from all accounts, is an even greater shoppers paradise! So if shopping is your passion, the UAE is definitely the place to be.
Desert Notes: Now where is that exactly?
When my husband was first offered the opportunity to work in Abu Dhabi, all I knew for sure was that it was the place to which Garfield used to mail Nermal and that it was somewhere near Dubai.
Of course, being an internet addict I started trawling web pages to find out more. Abu Dhabi, it turned out, was both the capital city and the name of the largest emirate within the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The UAE itself is made up of 7 such emirates, which also include Dubai, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm Al Qaiwain, Ras Al Khaimah and Fujairah.
The largest portion of the UAE coast is on the Arabian Gulf (known mistakenly by many as the Persian Gulf), while a short stretch of coastline edges into the Gulf of Oman. Its nearest neighbours are Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Oman. On the opposite side of the Gulf is Iran.
Map of Middle East
So I now knew where Abu Dhabi was. And I knew that it was the economic hub of the UAE and that it originally supported a community of fisherman and pearl divers. Plus I knew from family friends who had worked that that it had two malls. And that it was hot and humid. For some reason all rational sense flew out of my head and I imagined Abu Dhabi as a sort of "Nelspruit-by-the-sea" in terms of its weather, its population and city life.
What had failed to register in my house-moving addled brain was the words “economic hub”. And the fact that Abu Dhabi city was in fact an island. A rather large one. In fact, the emirate itself (including the island city) occupies nearly 85% of the total land mass of the UAE.
So needless to say, when we eventually arrived in Abu Dhabi I was amazed. Not only was the city much, much larger and far more crowded than I had imagined, but the fact that it was surrounded by water made me completely lose my sense of direction (my husband would tell you I didn’t have very much of one in the first place).
http://www.whoop.com/AbuDhabi1.jpg (Abu Dhabi skyline)
The total population of the UAE is around 2.8 million, with around 930 000 of them based in Abu Dhabi emirate and around 500 000 of that figure in the city itself. Only 19% of people living in the UAE are actually citizens (known locally as UAE nationals). The remainder are expatriate workers from around the world: Gulf/Arab states (23%), South Asian (50%), other expatriate (Western and East Asian) 8%.
The two malls I had been told about referred only to the two newest malls – Marina Mall and Abu Dhabi Mall. But these are not the only ones, and nor are they even the biggest. We have been here over 6 months and I STILL haven’t been in all of them! It’s a shopaholic’s paradise….
Despite having that typical “it-could-be-anywhere” big city skyline, it is unmistakably different too. The architecture has retained much of the traditional middle-eastern/Islamic style, and slick steel and glass constructions are delicately decorated with arches and minarets.
It is very cosmopolitan, and on any given day you can hear Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Malayam, Tagalog, French, Russian and English being spoken all around you. You are just as likely to see a long-legged blonde in a micro-mini as you are to see a woman covered from head to foot in her black gown (known here as an abaya) with just her eyes peeking out from behind her sheyla (veil).
The smells are different too. You get the sea smell, along with a “swampier” note from the vegetation covered sandbanks in the khors (creeks) that surround the island. In the malls you are welcomed by the scents of sandalwood and oud (frankincense) sold at the local perfumeries. And don’t forget the sweetly spicy apple flavoured tobacco scents from the sheesha pipes that waft past on lazy weekend afternoons.
The sounds are typically big city with added car horns for emphasis and punctuated at regular intervals by the five-times-daily calls to prayer that echo out across the city from the mosques that literally are found on every street corner.
It’s an interesting place to be, and I look forward to sharing my experiences with you over the next few weeks!
Of course, being an internet addict I started trawling web pages to find out more. Abu Dhabi, it turned out, was both the capital city and the name of the largest emirate within the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The UAE itself is made up of 7 such emirates, which also include Dubai, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm Al Qaiwain, Ras Al Khaimah and Fujairah.
The largest portion of the UAE coast is on the Arabian Gulf (known mistakenly by many as the Persian Gulf), while a short stretch of coastline edges into the Gulf of Oman. Its nearest neighbours are Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Oman. On the opposite side of the Gulf is Iran.
Map of Middle East
So I now knew where Abu Dhabi was. And I knew that it was the economic hub of the UAE and that it originally supported a community of fisherman and pearl divers. Plus I knew from family friends who had worked that that it had two malls. And that it was hot and humid. For some reason all rational sense flew out of my head and I imagined Abu Dhabi as a sort of "Nelspruit-by-the-sea" in terms of its weather, its population and city life.
What had failed to register in my house-moving addled brain was the words “economic hub”. And the fact that Abu Dhabi city was in fact an island. A rather large one. In fact, the emirate itself (including the island city) occupies nearly 85% of the total land mass of the UAE.
So needless to say, when we eventually arrived in Abu Dhabi I was amazed. Not only was the city much, much larger and far more crowded than I had imagined, but the fact that it was surrounded by water made me completely lose my sense of direction (my husband would tell you I didn’t have very much of one in the first place).
http://www.whoop.com/AbuDhabi1.jpg (Abu Dhabi skyline)
The total population of the UAE is around 2.8 million, with around 930 000 of them based in Abu Dhabi emirate and around 500 000 of that figure in the city itself. Only 19% of people living in the UAE are actually citizens (known locally as UAE nationals). The remainder are expatriate workers from around the world: Gulf/Arab states (23%), South Asian (50%), other expatriate (Western and East Asian) 8%.
The two malls I had been told about referred only to the two newest malls – Marina Mall and Abu Dhabi Mall. But these are not the only ones, and nor are they even the biggest. We have been here over 6 months and I STILL haven’t been in all of them! It’s a shopaholic’s paradise….
Despite having that typical “it-could-be-anywhere” big city skyline, it is unmistakably different too. The architecture has retained much of the traditional middle-eastern/Islamic style, and slick steel and glass constructions are delicately decorated with arches and minarets.
It is very cosmopolitan, and on any given day you can hear Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Malayam, Tagalog, French, Russian and English being spoken all around you. You are just as likely to see a long-legged blonde in a micro-mini as you are to see a woman covered from head to foot in her black gown (known here as an abaya) with just her eyes peeking out from behind her sheyla (veil).
The smells are different too. You get the sea smell, along with a “swampier” note from the vegetation covered sandbanks in the khors (creeks) that surround the island. In the malls you are welcomed by the scents of sandalwood and oud (frankincense) sold at the local perfumeries. And don’t forget the sweetly spicy apple flavoured tobacco scents from the sheesha pipes that waft past on lazy weekend afternoons.
The sounds are typically big city with added car horns for emphasis and punctuated at regular intervals by the five-times-daily calls to prayer that echo out across the city from the mosques that literally are found on every street corner.
It’s an interesting place to be, and I look forward to sharing my experiences with you over the next few weeks!
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