Dune-Bashing in the U.A.E.
"It's normal, it's normal," mutters Josef Abdul, our dune-bashing driver, as he gets out of the Land Cruiser to assess the damage. We are straddling a dune, sand trailing down at precipitous angles to the left and the right of us, and we are stuck.
"Don't worry. I will call my friends to pull us out. This is normal," he emphasizes. "We will be free shortly to continue on."
Until this momentary hang-up on one the dunes, we’d spent the last half hour sliding and gunning up and down 45-degree angles and popping up over dune precipices absolutely blindly only to roll at break-neck speeds down the other side. It had been a bone-jarring, breath-stealing experience. We’d had no idea what we were getting ourselves into on this desert safari trip. I’d imagined something more along the lines of a tame camel ride to an oasis, followed by a delectable Middle Eastern repast. This was not turning out the way I had planned.
"How do you all not hit each other? " I ask our driver nervously, as I watch another Land Cruiser pop over the dune 20 yards to my left. I am not so sure I want to continue on shortly. Sam's eyes are closed and Ted looks a bit green around the gills.
"We drive on assigned routes. Every dune has a name and we know all of them. I have been doing this for 10 years. Trust me," replies Abdul, as he starts punching rescue numbers into his cell phone.
Earlier in the day, the three of us had signed up for one of the fabled desert safari trips in the UAE. Under the banner of adventure tourism, the desert safaris of the last 10 years cater mainly to tourists, and take place all over the Rub’ al Khali Desert, otherwise known as the Empty Quarter, a huge expanse that covers much of this geographic region. The tours are generally a six-hour, $50 per person deal, including dune bashing, sand boarding, a trip to a camel farm, a ride on a camel, and a barbeque dinner, complete with local cuisine, sheesha smoking and henna painting. Our driver works for RAK events, and adventure outfit operating out of Ras Al Khaimah, the northern most Emirate, where I have chosen to live for the next 2 years.
I have recently moved to the UAE to teach at Ras Al Khaimah American School, the first American school in this Emirate. Uprooted from our home on the western slope of Colorado, my son Sam is also with me on this adventure. My brother and his partner (who wisely decided not to join us tonight) have flown over to visit us for a few days, a getaway from their home in New Delhi, India. My brother has just received a job offer for the DCM post at the U.S. Embassy in Jakarta. He is about to ascend to a very important position in the international world, and I am going to feel pretty guilty if he doesn’t live through this experience… if we flip over and roll sideways down two hundred feet of dune. Not to mention Sam, who has his whole life in front of him.
Earlier in the evening, we'd stopped off the highway to let air out of the tires in preparation for this experience. Abdul had cautioned us to stay away from all food and beverages, except the water that he
would provide for us on the dunes. Now I knew why. My stomach churns in the aftermath of the earlier lurching and spinning we’d been through.
Right now our desert safari is stalled out because Abdul, though a deft and confident driver, has bottomed out on a dune. He asks us to exit the car, and I walk to the end of the dune, enjoying the stillness and wide desert views below us. Soon help arrives in the form of a turban-clad driver in a kandora, who hooks a piece of 50 foot nylon webbing to both cars and hauls us out. We are on our way again.
It seems that all dune drivers have signature dune driving music. Abdul plugs in his MP3 player, and cranks up a tune that was popular in 1984. Performed by Modern Talking, a German pop band, the lyrics boom out into the car. "You're no good, can't you see, brother Louis, Louis Louis? I'm in love, can't you see, brother Louis, Louis, Louis!" What on God's green earth was this 20-something kid doing with this 25-year-old Euro trash pop?
Listening to it, I am instantly transported back to Spain, during my junior year of college, when I’d studied in Madrid for a semester. This jingle played constantly at that time. In my mind's eye, I can almost see Madrid's boisterous streets, and taste the Cordero Negro champagne we'd drunk while dancing in Mediterranean-themed clubs. This was also the year my father died unexpectedly. And in just a few short months, I would be meeting a Moroccan, a man who was to become one of the great romantic interests of my life. Who knew where he was now? Yet I am, in part, here in the Middle East because of that long ago liaison, which started in me an appreciation for the Arab culture.
After a few initial show-off turns and spins, Abdul suddenly points the car downhill, and at breakneck speed, we float down an endless dune. "Brother Louis, Louis, Louis," pounds in my ears. I turn and look over my shoulder at Sam. His eyes are screwed shut. Then I look back at Ted. He just shakes his head at me. What have we gotten ourselves into this time? The brochure had looked innocuous enough.
"Please sir," I croak to the young driver. "Could you go a little more slowly, please?"
"Just relax," he counsels. And I do. In this minute, I open my eyes, force myself to unclench my hands from around my shoulder harness, and try to enjoy it. I am afraid of heights, but I tell myself this driver is experienced. And suddenly, it is sort of fun, if only a little bit. Sam crows from the back seat. It feels like we are flying over the sand, catching air, gliding and turning and swirling. The sun is setting over the desert. I decide we might survive after all.
An hour later, while seated on cushions in the open air, sipping Coronas and eating a sumptuous meal of savory daal bat lentils over rice, grilled vegetables and khandahar red curry spiced lamb and chicken, we talk to our neighbors at the adjoining table. They are two women who hail from Miami.
"Oh, no way!" says the short, pretty one. "We were told absolutely, under no conditions, were we to go on the dune pashing part of the safari. People throw up and hyperventilate and stuff all the time. You guys did that?"
We had, and we'd lived to tell the tale. A moment from it remains minute frozen in time, where we are all in that car, Abdul, Sam, his mother and uncle, three of the four mouths making perfect O's of fear and delight, as Modern Talking tells us, "Life is Life, come on stand up and fight!" The desert floats below and the sun melts into the horizon in sandy waves of orange heat.
--
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Uncles Come to RAK
Ted and Clayton just left after a 5 day visit. This weekend I will do a big individual email session to my buddies, whom I miss. I have a bunch to answer. I am sorry. Please know how much I enjoy getting news from you all. Thank you for writing me and for your patience.
My brother Ted just got a kick ass new job as the DCM, or number 2 guy at the embassy in Jakarta, Indonesia. I am excited, as is Sam, to go visit them there. But they were just here! We had a great visit. We did a lot, and I am pretty tired, so I bet the uncles are even more bushed. Sam was sorry to see them go, and Kulsum said Sam seemed so happy to have them here. There was a desert safari with dune bashing, which I will write about in detail this weekend, and a dinner party here, plus a trip into Dubai for us to go visit them at their swank hotel, and sailing, boating, pool time and book time. We loved having them here. It makes Sam so proud to have visitors.
Sam and I went to the Oman border again today on a visa run. I hope for the last time. When we returned, Sam did 8 pages of homework, and some of the best, most confident reading aloud that he has ever done. He is starting to get it, thank goodness. And he was sweet about it, which is not always the case. I worked like crazy on curriculum all day and into the evening. I thought I would have enough energy to get a dune bashing description onto my blog tonight, because it was such an amazing experience, but I am too tired to do it justice right now. Ted and I spent some time speculating who in our family would or would not agree to go dune bashing, and you'll see why when I tell you what it was like. I bet twice as many people lose their lunch dune bashing than on the Salt n' Pepper Shaker amusement ride.
More later. We are fine here. Sorry to see our guests go, but looking forward to some R and R this weekend. I keep promising photos, and Bethany has already taken them of Sam in his kandoora, so now she has only to upload them and they are on their way to you. School opening is looking more like Nov. or possibly even later, but I have full work weeks every week. Admin is definitely keeping us busy with work and deadlines. I heard Sheryl Crow on the radio when I was driving into Dubai last Thursday night and I felt a huge wave of homesickness. But overall, we are happy. Just too far away!
My brother Ted just got a kick ass new job as the DCM, or number 2 guy at the embassy in Jakarta, Indonesia. I am excited, as is Sam, to go visit them there. But they were just here! We had a great visit. We did a lot, and I am pretty tired, so I bet the uncles are even more bushed. Sam was sorry to see them go, and Kulsum said Sam seemed so happy to have them here. There was a desert safari with dune bashing, which I will write about in detail this weekend, and a dinner party here, plus a trip into Dubai for us to go visit them at their swank hotel, and sailing, boating, pool time and book time. We loved having them here. It makes Sam so proud to have visitors.
Sam and I went to the Oman border again today on a visa run. I hope for the last time. When we returned, Sam did 8 pages of homework, and some of the best, most confident reading aloud that he has ever done. He is starting to get it, thank goodness. And he was sweet about it, which is not always the case. I worked like crazy on curriculum all day and into the evening. I thought I would have enough energy to get a dune bashing description onto my blog tonight, because it was such an amazing experience, but I am too tired to do it justice right now. Ted and I spent some time speculating who in our family would or would not agree to go dune bashing, and you'll see why when I tell you what it was like. I bet twice as many people lose their lunch dune bashing than on the Salt n' Pepper Shaker amusement ride.
More later. We are fine here. Sorry to see our guests go, but looking forward to some R and R this weekend. I keep promising photos, and Bethany has already taken them of Sam in his kandoora, so now she has only to upload them and they are on their way to you. School opening is looking more like Nov. or possibly even later, but I have full work weeks every week. Admin is definitely keeping us busy with work and deadlines. I heard Sheryl Crow on the radio when I was driving into Dubai last Thursday night and I felt a huge wave of homesickness. But overall, we are happy. Just too far away!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Changes
I have just spent the day creating an overview for my curriculum. We are going to use the Aero Standards, which are often applied to overseas schools to help teachers align curriculum from one grade to the next. It took me 6 hours of nonstop Internet research, flipping through my teacher guides, and typing and cutting and pasting. I now have a reasonable month-by-month overview of my third grade year for math, science, reading, writing and social studies. It was a huge project and I am tired! I’ve planned on starting teaching in November, and if I have to condense curriculum more than that, I have a plan of sorts for each subject as to how to mush it even more. It is seriously challenging to figure out a way to cover a year’s worth of material in one semester, if that is what ends up happening. I am more thankful every day that Sam is in a school already. Even though a transfer will cause a disruption, at least he is learning now. The other set of parents who have not enrolled their two children are getting a bit frantic, and I am so glad I just went ahead and did it! Again, thanks to my sibs.
Yesterday was a watershed, turning point kind of day. In the last week or two, I have felt so frustrated. There was no end in sight to the school’s construction, teachers were fighting and snarking at one another, I didn’t yet have my own car, Sam and I got sick, and I could not get my second paycheck to clear at my bank. Then yesterday, my check cleared, so we have money again (Sam celebrated by having both cake AND tea at the fort in one seating. He also told Kulsum in the car yesterday a.m. before the check cleared that I didn’t have enough dirhams to buy him potato chips. She called me to loan me money and I had to explain the difference between Sam’s perception of our financial situation and reality, which was dismal, until the check cleared, but not THAT desperate).
Ryer also called in the evening to tell me he had bought a ticket to India. Yippee! Ted, I will send you his itinerary when I get it. He does arrive one day earlier than me, and I remember you all will still be out of town. Yesterday I also took the reigns of control over my broken oven and my Internet problems, and I went to Carrefour and Etisilat, the store and phone company who hold the keys to my respective problems. I made progress! Also, when I visited the school yesterday, it is clear that they are beginning to wrap up the building process, so I have renewed hope that I will be in front of a classroom in the not so distant future. Last, I drove from our office in La Joya Bay, to the new school ½ hour away, to the bicycle repair shop, to the bank, and to Etisilat and Carrefour and then back to Al Hamra, where we live, all WITHOUT getting into a car wreck or hopelessly lost. For the first time, I finally felt like I had a modicum of control in my life again, after total disruption. So, I am feeling happier and better, even without Alison’s dietary suggestions of wild salmon and blueberries, though I read the article with interest, Als, and will duly note the foods that help brighten one’s mood.
I keep meaning to drag a notebook around for a single day and write down everything that happens that is a cultural disconnect. It happens all the time, every day, too frequently to mention, but I don’t want to lose it all as I make the transition from what is not normal to what feels more normal with each passing day. I suppose this transition happens to every expat. The first few days after arrival are a total blur, then certain things about one’s day start standing out as being exceptionally strange, and then, over time, one just comes to accept it. My Italian washing machine, for instance. It was a simply unbelievable mechanism in the beginning, with its random wash, spin and dry cycles, but now I just wash my clothes and hang them outside on the balcony, like I have been doing that every day of my life. And Sam’s having a cell phone…seemed so strange in the beginning, but makes perfect sense now. He is extremely careful with it, and knows how to find numbers, and change the ring tone. Ditto for trips to the supermarket, with offerings such as quail eggs nestled in next to the hen’s eggs, or the boxed milk and Indian TV dinners. It is all just starting to feel more normal.
Ted, the consummate mover, always recommended suspending judgment for the first six months in a new culture where everything feels so strange and impossible to manage. It takes time and energy to break down a life and rebuild it again, but here we are. Instead of driving through the early winter snow to school with Sam in a car seat in the back, he puts himself into his uniform, eats his breakfast, and either scooters or rides his bike. We say goodbye at the elevator everyday. If I hurry out to the balcony, I can watch him down below, wheeling away down the street to the Khan’s house, (with his long blue shorts and RAKESS golf shirt, his “Civic Sisters” black backpack full of British Curriculum materials, front zip pocket stuffed full of dirhams to purchase the pseudo Indian/Arab cuisine he’ll eat at noon), where a different family puts him into a different car and takes him daily to a British School in the northern part of an equatorial, Arab country. Wow. I can’t help but marvel at all that can change in just six short weeks.
I want to be in better touch. I seem to be able to access Internet at home, so if you have a skype address, please tell me what it is. I am leadvillelucy. Mom, you said Fred set you up. Can you get the skype address and send it to me? I can’t yet talk computer to phone, but I can talk computer to computer.
Yesterday was a watershed, turning point kind of day. In the last week or two, I have felt so frustrated. There was no end in sight to the school’s construction, teachers were fighting and snarking at one another, I didn’t yet have my own car, Sam and I got sick, and I could not get my second paycheck to clear at my bank. Then yesterday, my check cleared, so we have money again (Sam celebrated by having both cake AND tea at the fort in one seating. He also told Kulsum in the car yesterday a.m. before the check cleared that I didn’t have enough dirhams to buy him potato chips. She called me to loan me money and I had to explain the difference between Sam’s perception of our financial situation and reality, which was dismal, until the check cleared, but not THAT desperate).
Ryer also called in the evening to tell me he had bought a ticket to India. Yippee! Ted, I will send you his itinerary when I get it. He does arrive one day earlier than me, and I remember you all will still be out of town. Yesterday I also took the reigns of control over my broken oven and my Internet problems, and I went to Carrefour and Etisilat, the store and phone company who hold the keys to my respective problems. I made progress! Also, when I visited the school yesterday, it is clear that they are beginning to wrap up the building process, so I have renewed hope that I will be in front of a classroom in the not so distant future. Last, I drove from our office in La Joya Bay, to the new school ½ hour away, to the bicycle repair shop, to the bank, and to Etisilat and Carrefour and then back to Al Hamra, where we live, all WITHOUT getting into a car wreck or hopelessly lost. For the first time, I finally felt like I had a modicum of control in my life again, after total disruption. So, I am feeling happier and better, even without Alison’s dietary suggestions of wild salmon and blueberries, though I read the article with interest, Als, and will duly note the foods that help brighten one’s mood.
I keep meaning to drag a notebook around for a single day and write down everything that happens that is a cultural disconnect. It happens all the time, every day, too frequently to mention, but I don’t want to lose it all as I make the transition from what is not normal to what feels more normal with each passing day. I suppose this transition happens to every expat. The first few days after arrival are a total blur, then certain things about one’s day start standing out as being exceptionally strange, and then, over time, one just comes to accept it. My Italian washing machine, for instance. It was a simply unbelievable mechanism in the beginning, with its random wash, spin and dry cycles, but now I just wash my clothes and hang them outside on the balcony, like I have been doing that every day of my life. And Sam’s having a cell phone…seemed so strange in the beginning, but makes perfect sense now. He is extremely careful with it, and knows how to find numbers, and change the ring tone. Ditto for trips to the supermarket, with offerings such as quail eggs nestled in next to the hen’s eggs, or the boxed milk and Indian TV dinners. It is all just starting to feel more normal.
Ted, the consummate mover, always recommended suspending judgment for the first six months in a new culture where everything feels so strange and impossible to manage. It takes time and energy to break down a life and rebuild it again, but here we are. Instead of driving through the early winter snow to school with Sam in a car seat in the back, he puts himself into his uniform, eats his breakfast, and either scooters or rides his bike. We say goodbye at the elevator everyday. If I hurry out to the balcony, I can watch him down below, wheeling away down the street to the Khan’s house, (with his long blue shorts and RAKESS golf shirt, his “Civic Sisters” black backpack full of British Curriculum materials, front zip pocket stuffed full of dirhams to purchase the pseudo Indian/Arab cuisine he’ll eat at noon), where a different family puts him into a different car and takes him daily to a British School in the northern part of an equatorial, Arab country. Wow. I can’t help but marvel at all that can change in just six short weeks.
I want to be in better touch. I seem to be able to access Internet at home, so if you have a skype address, please tell me what it is. I am leadvillelucy. Mom, you said Fred set you up. Can you get the skype address and send it to me? I can’t yet talk computer to phone, but I can talk computer to computer.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Go Obama!
Thanks for the nice emails. I am actually at my house emailing this while Sam watches cartoons. This is how I envision it will be, once we get it all squared away. Sam and I hosted a dinner party last night. I invited Kulsum and her family, which made five, then Bethany, and Sam and I made a total of eight. I have a nice oblong dining room table, and we all sat around it. I was attempting to serve them an American meal, stolen from Mexico, so I set up a fajita bar, so they could help themselves to chicken, beans, rice, salsa, cheese and sour cream. I think everybody enjoyed it. Khalid commented that my flat feels very homey and comfortable, which made me happy. I still haven't figured out how to hang anything on these cement walls, but there are other ways to add personal touches. Scents are big here, so I burn lavender oil for guests, and hope the soothing smell will calm Sammy down. He is not at his best when we have guests with kids. Of course then he has to share his toys, and he does not shine at this AT ALL. He looked quite nice, however. He dressed himself in a kandora, typical arab gear, complete with the headress. I will take a photo of this, along with a pic of Sam in school gear and send it out.
We are so looking forward to Ted and Clayton's visit. I will host another dinner party next week when they are here. I have invited my principal and his wife, who I think the uncles will very much like, and I am trying to invite a Tunisian husband and wife, as well as Khalid (Kulsum won't consider a sitter), and Bethany. I think the uncles will enjoy the view of the resort from our balcony. Now, if the lasagna turns out, then everybody will forgive the brightly colored plastic plates.
Still no news on the opening of the school. In any case, thanks to my siblings, Sam is paid through this semester, and we will be open by next, surely, if not before. I am not sorry we are here. I know it is a hard time to be in the U.S. I have not registered to vote, but I am going to try to do it online after I send this email. I like having Sam see another way of living, though it made me more than a little nervous when Sam suggested I might want to start wearing an abaya and head scarf. He may take this all too far, our Sam! I guess what has been hard is how long it takes to get things done, and how little power I have over the process.
We continue to work, and now that Ramadan is over, our work days will of regular length. Sam and I did not go to Oman as hoped. Sam brought a cold home on his last day at school before break, and then promptly gave it to me, so we've been ailing. Still, it has been nice and tomorrow, our last day of break, we are to go on a desert safari, which will be fun.
About the heart stuff. Thanks to everybody for help and input. My last day of school is June 11th, I believe. I would much rather have the minimally invasive surgery with the repair. I don't want the pig valve. Besides having to take medicine for the rest of my life, Als pointed out that I couldn't eat pork anymore because I would be eating my brothers and sisters. Not to mention that Sam's favorite food in the world is bacon, which I am always having to sneak around and buy for him here. How could I watch all that meat snapping and sizzling in the pan, knowing that it was my own flesh and blood that I was cooking? Just kidding, but the repair sounds better all around. Anyway, there is nothing more boring than someone else's health problems, and I am boring the crap out of myself just thinking about it here. So, I will sign off. I am going to take Sam to the pool later, but in the meantime, it is my duty to sign up to vote! Go Obama!
Miss you guys.
Love,
Lucy
We are so looking forward to Ted and Clayton's visit. I will host another dinner party next week when they are here. I have invited my principal and his wife, who I think the uncles will very much like, and I am trying to invite a Tunisian husband and wife, as well as Khalid (Kulsum won't consider a sitter), and Bethany. I think the uncles will enjoy the view of the resort from our balcony. Now, if the lasagna turns out, then everybody will forgive the brightly colored plastic plates.
Still no news on the opening of the school. In any case, thanks to my siblings, Sam is paid through this semester, and we will be open by next, surely, if not before. I am not sorry we are here. I know it is a hard time to be in the U.S. I have not registered to vote, but I am going to try to do it online after I send this email. I like having Sam see another way of living, though it made me more than a little nervous when Sam suggested I might want to start wearing an abaya and head scarf. He may take this all too far, our Sam! I guess what has been hard is how long it takes to get things done, and how little power I have over the process.
We continue to work, and now that Ramadan is over, our work days will of regular length. Sam and I did not go to Oman as hoped. Sam brought a cold home on his last day at school before break, and then promptly gave it to me, so we've been ailing. Still, it has been nice and tomorrow, our last day of break, we are to go on a desert safari, which will be fun.
About the heart stuff. Thanks to everybody for help and input. My last day of school is June 11th, I believe. I would much rather have the minimally invasive surgery with the repair. I don't want the pig valve. Besides having to take medicine for the rest of my life, Als pointed out that I couldn't eat pork anymore because I would be eating my brothers and sisters. Not to mention that Sam's favorite food in the world is bacon, which I am always having to sneak around and buy for him here. How could I watch all that meat snapping and sizzling in the pan, knowing that it was my own flesh and blood that I was cooking? Just kidding, but the repair sounds better all around. Anyway, there is nothing more boring than someone else's health problems, and I am boring the crap out of myself just thinking about it here. So, I will sign off. I am going to take Sam to the pool later, but in the meantime, it is my duty to sign up to vote! Go Obama!
Miss you guys.
Love,
Lucy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
