<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775</id><updated>2011-10-04T20:43:31.279+04:00</updated><title type='text'>kookie in dubai - tales in the desert city</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-783775306437302802</id><published>2008-03-09T12:02:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T12:12:15.705+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Into My Arms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I first came to Dubai I was relaying a frustrating experience of trying to give directions to a taxi driver who had no idea of where they were going and neither did I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The person I was telling told me that I was going through the five stages of grief. At the time I thought this was a rather odd comparison but in hindsight it was quite true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Below is my mindset during this time – which I think was over a six month period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Denial" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Denial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;: &lt;em&gt;The initial stage: "It can't be happening." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is surreal – there are camels on the freeway and people are driving like lunatics at 140 kph in a 100 speed limit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A little man keeps coming to our apartment door offering to sell me water filled bottles – doesn’t he know that there is a perfectly good water from the tap in the kitchen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Opposite us are the Russian hookers – I only see them in the late afternoon with their seriously high heels and then very late at night if I’m sleeping lightly I can hear their door bell ring. They are all remarkably friendly and in my Anglo way I do the polite smile thing – nod and smile with a closed mouth and don’t engage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Still unsure of dress code I’m wearing ankle length floor skirts and look like I’m from Little House on the Prairie. Even though I’ve started going to the mall I’m still not comfortable with showing too much flesh – even though there are lots of English tourists baring fatty flesh who look like lobsters and have no idea of the concept of ‘slip, slop, slap’. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Anger" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anger"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;: &lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why me? It's not fair."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I living in a place full of dust and sand and its over 45 degrees in the middle of May? Why do taxi drivers insist on driving like lunatics and racing other cars if they get cut off? Why do people keep flashing their lights at me on the freeway? Why does the hot water burn in the shower? Why are all my clothes shrinking? Where can I buy stamps? Why can’t I find one decent hairdresser? Why do waitresses always read back the order? Why do I have to pay for a glass of water? Why do men keep staring at me? Why isn’t mail delivered to my home? Why does know one know which street I live on?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Bargaining" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bargaining"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Bargaining&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;"Make this not happen, and in return I will..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I live here for a year then I can leave with lots of money and I can travel to many exotic lands...and I can buy new clothes and feed my addiction to Zara, Massimo Dutti and The One…I could buy a Touareg…I could buy some diamond earrings…then I can retire at an early age and tend to a garden in suburban Australia…eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Depression (mood)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Depression_%28mood%29"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Depression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;: &lt;em&gt;"I'm so sad, why bother with anything?" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I watch another DVD that cost me 10 dirhams that I have bought from Who Who, the dodgy little lady who comes to my door and says ‘hey sista, what up?’ then I might have to consider going to bed and not getting up – ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The heat is unbearable – there is just no reprieve. Four months later and it has reached just over 50 degrees on a few occasions and standing in the shade causes sweat patches to form straight away in the most unusual places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Acceptance" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acceptance"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Acceptance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;:&lt;em&gt; "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's going to be OK." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be ok – it really will – the worst is over and the second season has kicked in – winter. Twenty degree days means picnics in the park and walks along the beach; pure bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Things I like and have learnt to love: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I love learning about little nuances – anyone who live here knows what manakeesh is, understands what yani, yella and habidti mean &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love walking past the mosque. There is something deeply moving and calming about the call to prayer and seeing from the outside in the ritual of prayer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Taking an abra across Dubai Creek is just pure magic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I’ve never liked malls and in the past would avoid them – now I understand their purpose as a community hub and as an air conditioned retreat for all &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love the fact that I work with 12 different nationalities – the Lebanese have the best hair and know the best hairdressers, the Filipino's are the hardest workers, the Egyptians attend the most lavish weddings, the Jordanians are friendly yet reserved and the English are well…English.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;And as for living in a Muslim country - its been nothing but a truly fascinating and liberating education. I’m so grateful to all those people that have let me ask probing questions and try to come to some understanding of why things are the way they are. Maa al salamah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-783775306437302802?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/783775306437302802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=783775306437302802' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/783775306437302802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/783775306437302802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2008/03/into-my-arms.html' title='Into My Arms'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-455745868552630054</id><published>2007-10-29T08:49:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T08:57:25.773+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramandantastic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The holy month of Ramadan has now been and gone. What does this mean for a western woman living in the sandlands? Well if you work in an office with over half the office being Muslims it means: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;- no swearing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- dress more conservatively than normal, don’t wear skirts or anything revealing arms&lt;br /&gt;- take into account arranging meetings due to Ramadan working hours – this year the government decreed that private and government companies work only six hours a day. Needless to say a lot of private companies with expat employees didn’t enforce this at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- No drinking/eating in public during the day until sunset – this includes cinemas&lt;br /&gt;- Going to Iftars – Muslims break the fast by traditionally eating dates at sunset followed by an array of mezze type dishes like hummus, tabbouleh etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The main difference I’ve noticed this year is that Ramadan, like Christmas, is now a commercial entity. A local Emirati beauty product company sent out a press release titled ‘Ramadantastic offers!’ – they were alluding to the fact that they were bundling their products to entice customers to buy 2 for 1. Eid, the festive period after Ramadan, is a time when families give each other gifts and for younger children they receive new clothes and cash from parents.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-455745868552630054?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/455745868552630054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=455745868552630054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/455745868552630054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/455745868552630054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/10/ramandantastic.html' title='Ramandantastic!'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-6874242527931427401</id><published>2007-08-30T08:03:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T08:20:23.559+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me To The River - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The maintenance man finally turns up from Rocky Real Estate - yes, that's right. Rocky Real Estate...they pride themselves on building solid foundations....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The guy turns up, unannounced, last Saturday whilst I'm pottering around the house in my sarong (as you do). He fixed the door bell, the leaking toilet, the light switch that has never worked and then hands P a form to sign before he leaves. P and I look at each other and then ask 'what about the hot water unit? it's been broken for months'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Blank look. He then makes a call. 'No, they won't fix until winter'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So let me bring you up to speed. For three months we've had no hot water in the kitchen and if we do attempt to turn on the hot water tap the system leaks from the ceiling in to the cupboards. So for three months all the contents of those cupboards are in bags against the wall and plates and glasses are now stacked high in one cupboard. To wash the dishes we have to boil the kettle. So the drama continues. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rocky Real Estate have now received a fax asking them to fix the unit immediately. But what can we do? As far as I know there is only a rent committee that deals with rent related issues. Will have to do some more investigation work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-6874242527931427401?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/6874242527931427401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=6874242527931427401' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6874242527931427401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6874242527931427401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/08/take-me-to-river-part-2.html' title='Take Me To The River - Part 2'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-3150709685648087431</id><published>2007-08-30T07:48:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T18:31:44.117+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Father of 78 aims for 100 children&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;UBAI, United Arab Emirates (Reuters) -- A one-legged Emirati father of 78 is lining up his next two wives in a bid to reach his target of 100 children by 2015, Emirates Today reported on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Daad Mohammed Murad Abdul Rahman, 60, has already had 15 brides although he has to divorce them as he goes along to remain within the legal limit of four wives at a time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"In 2015 I will be 68 years old and will have 100 children," the local tabloid quoted Abdul Rahman as saying. "After that I will stop marrying. I have to have at least three more marriages to hit the century."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The United Arab Emirates newspaper splashed its front page with a picture of Abdul Rahman surrounded by his children, the eldest of whom is 36 years old and the youngest of whom is 20 days old. Two of his current three wives are also pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Abdul Rahman said his large family lived in 15 houses. He supports them with his military pension and the help of the government of Ajman, one of seven emirates that comprise the UAE, which includes the Gulf trade and tourism hub of Dubai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Islam allows men to marry up to four women at a time, though most marry only one. The UAE is a Muslim country but is home to migrants from around the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-3150709685648087431?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/3150709685648087431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=3150709685648087431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/3150709685648087431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/3150709685648087431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/08/big-love.html' title='Big Love'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-2099391058896915856</id><published>2007-08-16T10:55:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T12:38:35.633+04:00</updated><title type='text'>These Boots Are Made for Walkin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm trying to get a bit fitter and losing a few kilos in the process wouldn't hurt either. P and I joined Fitness First and after visiting for 2.5 weeks I seemed to have lost momentum and couldn't keep up the stamina or interest to: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;a) remember to bring my gym clothes to work &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;b) leave work on time to get to the gym &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;c) stand in the queue to join one of the many classes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I've decided to take action and am considering getting a personal (buff, preferably male) trainer to help me get rid of the muffin top and get me (back) into the skinny Sass &amp;amp; Bide jeans that I bought some time ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I read recently that once you hit 36 years of age 85% of your life is already mapped out for you through your actions, habits and lifestyle choices. So where does that leave me? It means that I have less than six weeks to rectify the situation and sort myself out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Will let you know how I get on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-2099391058896915856?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/2099391058896915856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=2099391058896915856' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/2099391058896915856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/2099391058896915856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/08/these-boots-are-mad-for-walkin.html' title='These Boots Are Made for Walkin&apos;'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-8550793709346505914</id><published>2007-07-01T13:03:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T13:17:15.809+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Orphans</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;My colleague and I were talking about charities in Dubai and the lack of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I was telling her how I'd like to volunteer somewhere that actually has something to do with people. All of the charities that I know seem to be for animals, which is fine if you love feral cats and dogs that look nothing like Lassie. I don't mind them but would much prefer to have interaction with people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;She then told me that there are no orphanages within the UAE - not one. The understanding being that if a parent/parents died within a GCC family then the siblings of that person would take care of them. Its understood in Islam that family stays with family. No questions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's no discussion about custody, no visits to court and no chance for them to go to an adoption agency. The power and understanding of what constitutes a family here can't be underestimated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;But what if the family are from India? Philippines? Malaysia? I'm going to do some investigation work and will let you know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-8550793709346505914?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/8550793709346505914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=8550793709346505914' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8550793709346505914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8550793709346505914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/07/orphans.html' title='Orphans'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-6140309362060626262</id><published>2007-06-20T08:02:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T08:15:05.773+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me To The River</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;One night, a month ago, P and I were sitting in the lounge room, lounging, as you do. I decided it was time to refill the chardy and walked to the kitchen to do so. I could hear the water gushing and when I opened the door the room was flooded with water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that the hot water unit located in the ceiling had sprung a leak. P turned off the tap and we started the mop up process. It was around 10pm and I went and saw our doorman, Mohammed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s from Pakistan and we often have chats through mime. When I come in to our building and he’s slumped on the sofa I fan myself and say ‘hot, hot….’ And he nods politely. When his feral adopted cat had a litter of kittens I ooahed and aahed while he looked on with pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I try to explain to him on a Wednesday night at 10pm after two glasses of wine that there is water gushing down my kitchen walls my arms are flailing and I’m making gestures and noises to re-create a waterfall. He just looks at me in stony silence and says ‘come…come’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go upstairs to our apartment. He sees the water, looks up at the ceiling and mutters ‘no good’. Very observant is our Mohammed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After more miming and standing in puddles he gets the ladder. He gets up, takes a look and says ‘broke’. He tells us he will fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we get home from work and again, there is water all over the floor. Not good. Again, I tell Mohammed. Again, he says it will be fixed. It turns out that the plumber did come and had told Mohammed that it was fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we clean up again and take everything out of the kitchen cupboards – damp flour, sodden cardboard boxes and all the unusual tinned food I’ve been collecting since we’ve been here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just came back from being on holidays for two weeks. There is still no hot water and no signs of it being fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inshallah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-6140309362060626262?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/6140309362060626262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=6140309362060626262' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6140309362060626262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6140309362060626262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/06/take-me-to-river.html' title='Take Me To The River'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-8489456521486765131</id><published>2007-03-18T13:00:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T13:12:10.733+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Grain of Sand</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A few days ago there was a big sand storm. Imagine a really windy day with your hair going crazy and add to this tiny particles of sand blowing around. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ick&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P and I woke up and our balcony was covered with sand. The sky was dark with swirling clouds and a few rain drops started to appear. We decided to go out shopping (the largest Marks &amp;amp; Sparks outside of the UK opened here a month ago) and I was determined to buy myself a small retail treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drove to the shops the storm got progressively worse and it was difficult to see very far in front. Being a Friday morning there was hardly any traffic (Friday is a rest day, like a Sunday) so we were lucky that with P's now crazy Dubai driving and the bad weather we avoided running in to anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that we did see though was an active street sweeper...makes sense yeah? Have a massive machine working on the streets during the middle of a major storm. What's even funnier is that the guy driving it was so diligently driving against the curb...so Dubai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-8489456521486765131?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/8489456521486765131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=8489456521486765131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8489456521486765131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8489456521486765131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/03/every-grain-of-sand.html' title='Every Grain of Sand'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-6011277514778259711</id><published>2007-02-22T18:42:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T07:48:30.071+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Is Where The Heart Is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's official - I am now a resident of the UAE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;What does that mean? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can now apply for an alcohol licence which means that I can go to a large supermarket full of booze, buy it and drink it at home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can get a full driving licence and be subjected to waiting in queues for hours in a government building to get it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am now, statistically, another single women living in Dubai amongst a growing sub-culture that come here for great job opportunities&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't have AIDS; the blood test that is done when you apply for residency is to check that you aren't HIV positive. Remember, we are talking about a country where homosexuality is illegal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can purchase property with the millions of dirhams that I've saved here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, officially I exist in a country where I haven't existed for 10 months. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Praise to Allah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-6011277514778259711?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/6011277514778259711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=6011277514778259711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6011277514778259711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/6011277514778259711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/02/home-is-where-heart-is.html' title='Home Is Where The Heart Is'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-8398551000759528762</id><published>2007-02-20T18:24:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T18:34:11.691+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry Baby Cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;To obtain a residency visa for the UAE you must be employed and also undergo a physical which consists of a blood test and an X-ray. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I went to the hospital today I had to fill in a form that asked:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Please state that you are not pregnant for the following reason:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;a) I am single/widow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;b) I am on contraceptive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;c) I am married and stay away from my husband&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;d) Other...please explain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmmm....my colleague and I started laughing at statement c and also the fact that in the UAE if you're single there's obviously no chance of getting preganant...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-8398551000759528762?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/8398551000759528762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=8398551000759528762' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8398551000759528762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/8398551000759528762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/02/cry-baby-cry.html' title='Cry Baby Cry'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-7583495791454541514</id><published>2007-02-05T08:13:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T08:28:45.832+04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Sound Like You're Sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So many people come to this city looking for a perfect job and like anywhere else it can be so hard to find. Read the email below and find out how one guy will never work in this town. And yes, it's real. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="blocked::http://www.thedubailife.com/index.php/main/blog/how_not_to_apply_for_a_job_in_dubai" href="http://www.thedubailife.com/index.php/main/blog/how_not_to_apply_for_a_job_in_dubai"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;http://www.thedubailife.com/index.php/main/blog/how_not_to_apply_for_a_job_in_dubai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-7583495791454541514?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/7583495791454541514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=7583495791454541514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/7583495791454541514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/7583495791454541514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2007/02/you-sound-like-youre-sick.html' title='You Sound Like You&apos;re Sick'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-116635860980425219</id><published>2006-12-17T16:27:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T08:39:54.836+04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well that's a blatant lie…I'm not really. I'm dreaming about lying next to a pool, sipping on a Pink Lady and eating roasted peanuts while the sun goes down in Sri Lanka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in reality people in the sandlands flock to the malls as the sales begin and see huge Christmas decorations that put the Myer windows to shame. I just went to Wafi City, a high end mall, with the most elaborate Christmas decorations that I've ever seen. There's a Santa house with four elfs waiting to play with children and a huge tree laden with presents. Even though Muslims technically don't celebrate Christmas the retailers understand and appreciate ($) the importances of the holiday in the west, and shops have been bombarding the public with advertising since October, just like at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Wafi in search of decent mince pies. I made the trip to Marks &amp;amp; Spencers to no avail…they decided not to stock them this year. So I left very disappointed but have already decided to go second rate and find some mince pies at the local Spinneys supermarket. Mr Kiplings will have to do…HO HO HO…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-116635860980425219?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/116635860980425219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=116635860980425219' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116635860980425219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116635860980425219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-dreaming-of-white-christmas.html' title='I&apos;m Dreaming of a White Christmas'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-116635751181140207</id><published>2006-12-17T16:01:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T16:11:51.826+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls On Film</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;For the past 10 days Dubai has been treated to films from across the globe as part of the Dubai International Film Festival (DIFF). It isn't in the same league as Melbourne or Toronto but obviously provides film makers with a great opportunity and allows locals and expats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; keen to learn more about religion and culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Storm in the South&lt;/em&gt; is about three Kuwaiti women who are making history in their country. They're each running for a seat in the elections in the South, an area known for its conservatism and tribal traditions. Women have never been allowed to run for office before now and this area is rife with corruption; vote buying exists. The film follows their campaign trail for each woman over the course of a month. There's a shot of one man who says &lt;em&gt;women will never be in parliament'&lt;/em&gt; which gives you some idea of the mentality that these women face everyday. Then t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;here's the public rallies where women are in burquas, (that's women who are fully covered and you can only see their eyes), publicly declaring that they will vote for one of the female candidates which gives you great hope and inspiration and the whole time you're thinking....&lt;em&gt;yes, they're going to get in.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Election day comes and there appears to be a good vibe amongst the voters and each candidate walks amongst the crowd saying 'today Kuwaiti women will make history...'. The count starts. Then it closes...and then the tally comes up on the screen and they show that one of the women came in at number 8th in her area and that she got 1,400 out of 11,000 votes in the district. There was a communal groan in the audience. What happened? So many of the women in the show said&lt;em&gt; 'I'll vote for you...'?'I want to see women in parliament...' &lt;/em&gt;and yet when it came obviously not enough women were able to bring about change. It was heart wrenching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not having experienced anything to do with war, it was also interesting to note that a lot of the stories told was centered around war torn cities and families. Some were shot in real locations such as the West Bank. It was amazing to see how resilient the human race can be and reminded me that I've have such a privileged white Western existence and have no idea of the level of pain and suffering that people continue to live in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-116635751181140207?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/116635751181140207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=116635751181140207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116635751181140207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116635751181140207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/12/girls-on-film.html' title='Girls On Film'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-116576301657968518</id><published>2006-12-10T19:00:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T19:03:36.593+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Singin' In The Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;To everyone else's disgust and disbelief it's been raining in Dubai over the last few days. For me it was heaven. I woke up in mid darkness, heard the rain against the window, rolled over and pulled the blanket up over my chin and went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally crawled out of bed I pulled on a warm jacket, grabbed the umbrella and went walking. People looked at me like I was a crazy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it rains here people are at a loss. They don't own an umbrella; you see all these people running around the street with a plastic bag over their head and they have no idea what it means to drive in the rain. Driving becomes a serious problem. Drivers aren’t used to driving in wet conditions and have no idea of how not to slide or how to control a car in the rain. In one day alone there were over 650 accidents reported.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city isn't really built to cope with water. Parking bays are flooded as are some apartment building foyers…and we're talking about rainfall only over 2 days worth. For some people they saw it as a reminder of why they left their home country in the first place, for me it was like the city being washed clean. Buildings that are normally covered in fine sand are now back to their glory days…for the time being anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-116576301657968518?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/116576301657968518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=116576301657968518' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116576301657968518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116576301657968518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/12/singin-in-rain.html' title='Singin&apos; In The Rain'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-116308192450323996</id><published>2006-11-09T18:05:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T18:18:44.526+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I decided to catch a bus the other day. In Dubai that's a strange concept. Firstly white people are rarely seen standing at the bus stop and secondly, as a woman there are only four seats available to you. Confused? So am I. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;You go to the bus stop and wait with all the other people. The bus pulls up and you go to get on and there are eight women sitting in the first four seats. These seats are designated for women only. How nice and polite I thought...how cavalier...how old fashioned...how weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;However the bus was full and those seats were already occupied by other women so I kept walking down the aisle in the aim of standing up and holding on. People started looking at me and then a women yelled out to me that I had to get off the bus because it was full. I looked around and to my untrained eye the bus still had plenty of standing room. I followed this woman and got off the bus, blushing, because I felt I'd committed some sort of crime. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The kind lady explained to me that women are only allowed to sit in the first four rows and are not allowed to stand on the bus. So when the four seats are full, bad luck, you have to wait for another bus. Even if it's 45 degrees outside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I looked around me, there were at least 15 women waiting. I stood there feeling like an idiot, then did what every Euro expat here does - hailed a taxi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-116308192450323996?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/116308192450323996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=116308192450323996' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116308192450323996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116308192450323996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/11/wheels-on-bus-go-round-and-round.html' title='The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round...'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-116169035777930693</id><published>2006-10-24T15:23:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:46:00.013+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spirit In The Sky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's Eid in Dubai which means that the holy month of Ramadan is now over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ramadan is a time for self reflection for Muslims and is a month of fasting and prayer. During this month they can't consume anything between sunrise and sunset: no food, no water and no physical acts such as exercise, sex or smoking. So if you are a Muslim the last 27 days would go something like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;0430 - get up, eat and go back to bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;0600 - sunrise and prayers and go back to bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1000 - go to work. Many companies have reduced working hours during the month and this is observed all over the Gulf. During the day no one can eat, drink or smoke in public. This also applies to non Muslims and it's considered highly offensive for a non Muslim to eat or drink in the office place. Many offices set up a closed off area for people to eat in. During the day there are several prayers as well that Muslims attend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1600 - finish work and go home or to friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1800 - around this time the fast is broken. The tradition is to break fast with dates, milk and water. An evening meal is then had, called Iftar, and lots of people have a long evening with plenty of food and drink and many people go to Iftar parties until the small hours of the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For a non Muslim it's an interesting time to see how religion plays such a large part of life here. On a practical level it means that no cafes are open during the day, shopping centres are quiet and there is less traffic on the road. It's also a bit like Christmas. People give gifts to each other and on the day of Eid Muslims dress in their best clothes, attend prayers in the morning, give to charity and give their love and blessings to anyone that they come in to contact with. So happy Eid to you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-116169035777930693?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/116169035777930693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=116169035777930693' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116169035777930693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/116169035777930693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/10/spirit-in-sky.html' title='Spirit In The Sky'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115823953328585327</id><published>2006-09-14T16:36:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T17:12:13.360+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctor, Doctor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A while ago I was sick. I had a UTI; that's a urinary tract infection. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the chemist. I asked if they had any Ural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blank looks all around. Mmm...ok...change tact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attempted to describe the pain. The chemist looked at me and started pointing at his stomach and making loud, sort of farting, noises. He then asked 'deposits....you got the deposits'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh? deposits? I stood there while my face went bright red and then my brain dropped into gear and I realised what he meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No, no deposits' I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ah, you have the wets then...you know wets....?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! Finally we're getting somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes, I have the wets. Yes, wets...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gives me a box with Arabic text that has some small print in English which I can barely see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Drink', he says, 'three time a day and wets will go'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise be to Allah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank him, pay and leave. Get home. Open the packet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'This medication is to treat diarrhea and should be taken 3 times a day...'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115823953328585327?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115823953328585327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115823953328585327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115823953328585327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115823953328585327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/09/doctor-doctor.html' title='Doctor, Doctor'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115797028844943047</id><published>2006-09-11T13:58:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T14:24:48.476+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Think It Over Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's again another very hot day in Dubai and I've exhausted all the shopping centres in the city and have spent hours on the net reading and am rather bored. Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I took to doing a little exercise, of the writing kind, one of those annoying emails that people send and ask you to answer and send on, in the hope of getting to know the 'real' you. Feel free to copy and write about yourself so I can get to know the 'real' you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am? a woman who is about to go in to the next age bracket...UGH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want? to feel at peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wish? someone would employ me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate? injustices&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I miss? changes in weather and laneway restaurants and bars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I fear? failing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hear I am not? prone to exercise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hear I am? kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I dance? like a wild person with big hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I sing? all the time and out of tune...please never give me a microphone, I'd like to maintain some shreds of dignity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I cry? all the time, especially when I hear sad songs that make the me feel sentimental&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am not always? the most patient person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I make with my hands? cakes...and more cakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I write? all the time, sometimes just for myself or for want of talking to someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I confuse? what I want and what I need...do I really need to pur-chase that $150 jar of face cream? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I need? food...fresh green food and lots of laughter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I should? go to bed at a reasonable hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I start? thinking about things and can't seem to turn my brain off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I finish? books and am happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115797028844943047?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115797028844943047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115797028844943047' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115797028844943047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115797028844943047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/09/think-it-over-now.html' title='Think It Over Now'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115675342227912535</id><published>2006-08-28T12:01:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T12:23:42.310+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wash Me Clean</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I had to do a visa run the other day. This means leaving Dubai, exiting the country by car or plane and then returning to get another stamp in your passport which gives you 60 days on a tourist visa. I chose to fly to Doha, Qatar which is an hour away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Before check in I thought I'd pop to the ladies, as you do, and do the obligatory 'before you board a plane toilet visit'. I walked in to the loos and there were 10 chicks, a family, washing their feet in the basin or touching up their make up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Their abayas (the long traditional black dress) were hanging up all around the room. I was washing my hands when a European tourist came in and made very loud sniffing noises and looked disgusted with what she saw. She was right to think that the toilets smelt; they reeked of foot odour. It was a really pungent smell that hit you as soon as you walked in the door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;What she may not have realised is that the women were washing themselves in preparation for prayer time. When they had all washed their feet, they washed their hands and put their abayas back on over their jeans and tops and then left &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;to go to the prayer room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115675342227912535?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115675342227912535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115675342227912535' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115675342227912535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115675342227912535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/08/wash-me-clean.html' title='Wash Me Clean'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115615985986215983</id><published>2006-08-21T15:23:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T15:30:59.863+04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want Your Sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I live in a fairly busy area and often see ladies of the night do their business on the street. A car stops, they chat, she gets in and off they go. Good for them I think, as long as the women are safe and making some money, it’s their business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now according to one punter it’s mine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood in front of our apartment block and was trying to flag a taxi. Normally taxis spot you and honk their horn to get your attention. In 42 degree heat it I felt like I’d been waiting for some time when I heard a honk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned around and saw a plain car. There are lots of private taxis who work for the hotels. So I walked across the street and as I did he rolled down his window and all I heard was ‘how much…?’, and indignation quickly set it. My mouth must have dropped open because he sped away and I crossed back to the other side of the street in a blushed state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone suggested that I should be flattered; I was wearing jeans, tshirt and no make up. Hmmm…have to think about that one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115615985986215983?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115615985986215983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115615985986215983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115615985986215983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115615985986215983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-want-your-sex_21.html' title='I Want Your Sex'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115590044007482124</id><published>2006-08-18T15:21:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T15:32:31.393+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some like it hot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;On Wednesday afternoon I was sitting in our lounge room reading when the room suddenly got very dark. I looked up and saw that the sky was cloudy and I could barely see across the street. At the same time P got a text message from a colleague saying "its the end of the world". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Gulf News reported the next day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Hottest day of the year sizzles at 45.9C but more is yet to come&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;You have just survived the hottest day of the year on Wednesday when the mercury climbed up to a sizzling 45.9C.&lt;br /&gt;More hot weather is expected over the coming few days although eastern parts of the UAE, such as Al Ain, may have showers on Thursday. Forecasters at Dubai International Airport said the highest temperature on Wednesday was reached at 1.23pm just before the sea breeze blew inland and cooled things down by a few degrees. Later in the afternoon there was a dramatic drop in visibility caused by sand-laden winds from eastern parts of the UAE. At one point, visibility was as little as 200 metres although there were no reports of disruption to flights".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115590044007482124?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115590044007482124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115590044007482124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115590044007482124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115590044007482124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/08/some-like-it-hot.html' title='Some like it hot'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115546256683183458</id><published>2006-08-13T13:37:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T13:49:26.843+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Are You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So many people ask me 'so what's Dubai like?'. To give you some stats read below and find out what a research company discovered when they were employed by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time Out Dubai&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to conduct a survey of over 600 residents from various backgrounds. Some interesting statistics which may answer your questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;cost of&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;rent&lt;/strong&gt; is shooting up&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;faster than the Burj Dubai and we are extremely unhappy about it – so unhappy, in fact, that a whopping two thirds of residents would consider leaving as a result. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;80 per cent of Dubaians are still in rented accommodation&lt;/strong&gt;. Forty-two per cent of us get a company housing allowance, with that figure rising to almost 60 per cent for Westerners &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fifty per cent of Dubaians work more than 50 hours per week&lt;/strong&gt;, and 20 per cent of that total are putting in 70-plus hours a week. Further compounding this misery, 42 per cent of the lowest-paid workers (US$2,132 and below) work between 50 and 70 hours a week, while the figure is 27 per cent for the highest earners (US$8,000 plus a month). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forty-three per cent of us are overweight&lt;/strong&gt; for starters and we’re getting fatter. Twenty-five per cent of us never do any exercise and 41 per cent of us do less than three hours a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyone who has sampled the somewhat dubious pleasures of one of Dubai’s many lowbrow bars won’t be surprised to learn that &lt;strong&gt;57 per cent of us drink&lt;/strong&gt;, with that figure rising to 84 per cent for Westerners – 20 per cent of whom drink more than 15 units of alcohol (one unit equals one measure of spirits, half a pint of beer, or one small glass of wine) a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Over &lt;strong&gt;a quarter of us smoke&lt;/strong&gt;. Arabs smoke the heaviest – 45 per cent smoke more than 20 cigarettes a day, whereas Westerners are more likely to be social smokers – 39 per cent smoke fewer than four cigarettes a week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fifty-two per cent are happy&lt;/strong&gt;, 13 per cent are unhappy, and 34 per cent are neither happy nor unhappy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So who are we?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;We work hard, we play hard; our doctor tells us we’re out of shape physically, and psychologists tell us we may one day lose the plot mentally if we don’t recalibrate our daily schedules. We struggle to pay our rent, we hate sitting in traffic; we have a whole heap of people earning a lot more than us, but also even more people making less money and having to do even more to earn it below us. The era of the generous expat package is over for many of us, but things could be worse – when all is said and done, we’re still here and that’s for a reason – we’re probably earning more than we would in our home countries, or at least taking advantage of opportunities that wouldn’t be available to us elsewhere. We’re a mixed bag of people from all walks of life trying to better ourselves, and doing so with varying degrees of success. Despite our frustrations we’re happy and we are – shock horror – actually quite normal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;*All information from Time Out Dubai, 2 August 2006. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.timeoutdubai.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;www.timeoutdubai.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115546256683183458?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115546256683183458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115546256683183458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115546256683183458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115546256683183458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/08/who-are-you.html' title='Who Are You'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115469406696047204</id><published>2006-08-04T16:11:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T16:14:47.550+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls just wanna have fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Every Tuesday night in Dubai groups of women across the city rush home from work, paint on the plaster, splash on some perfume and then head to one of the numerous pubs that offer Ladies Night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ladies Night exists at many venues and generally offers free entry and a minimum of 2 free drinks. The idea being that there is approximately a ratio of 70/30 men to women in the city with many men being single and keen to meet some (trolley dolly) women. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Chicks tend to meet in small groups for dinner first and then do the 'rounds' and it's considered good value; go to a few venues and you've virtually had a free night out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's got to be said though that you get what you pay for or rather what you don't pay for. Think meat market and you'll get the picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115469406696047204?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115469406696047204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115469406696047204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115469406696047204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115469406696047204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/08/girls-just-wanna-have-fun.html' title='Girls just wanna have fun'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115100732425222871</id><published>2006-06-21T03:18:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T03:25:38.216+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody wants to work...no, no, not me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm not working at the moment and even though I have plenty of moments where I ask "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?" (thats my favourite thought right now) I'm enjoying just taking my time doing simple things. Like going to Paul, my favourite cafe, ordering a coffee and reading the whole paper until I notice the staff staring at me and I can see them thinking "is she going to order anything else?". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then I remember what an indulgent life I'm living and think of the construction industry workers who you see all over the city in brightly coloured overalls. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;You see them at lunch time outside Tasty Burger eating cheap meals and trying to drink as much water as they can because its free and they've been working since 6am in the heat. These men are mainly from India or Pakistan and come here to earn money which they then send back to their families back home. According to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.timeoutdubai.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;www.timeoutdubai.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; these men earn, on average, 500 dirhams per month. Jobs for administration workers range from 5,000 - 10,000 dirhams per month and a marketing position at middle management level may receive 20,000 dirhams upwards per month. They live in labour camps which are reportedly over crowded with no airconditioning and there has been debate about the upcoming summer months because the workers argue that they shouldn't have to work outside when its over a certain temperature. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;But Dubai is all about progress and the local media have been reporting that there will have to be some give and take between government bodies, the construction industry and the workers who are slowly realising that there is power in numbers. It will be interesting to see how the media reports the weather over the coming summer months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115100732425222871?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115100732425222871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115100732425222871' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115100732425222871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115100732425222871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/everybody-wants-to-workno-no-not-me.html' title='Everybody wants to work...no, no, not me'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115084811466107322</id><published>2006-06-21T03:18:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T04:03:29.180+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Watch your mouth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Customer service in Dubai can be quite bad. People blatantly lie and nod saying yes, it will happen when they know there is no such chance. It's considered very bad form for anyone to actually challenge the staff and even more so to swear at them. The poor Yank below found out the hard way. From &lt;a href="http://www.7days.ae"&gt;www.7days.ae&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A fed up Dubai resident who lost his temper and swore at customer service staff has been jailed for a month. LL, 31, visited &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="flipword" title="Visit http://www.emaar.com" href="http://www.emaar.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Emaar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ã‚Â’s customer service department in February to complain that, according to him, work on his apartment in The Greens had not been done as promised.&lt;br /&gt;But when his complaints got him nowhere, he swore at the woman serving him, the Dubai Court of First Instance heard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A witness told the court that the American also made offensive hand gestures to the 26-year-old woman. The angry customer unleashed a torrent of four letter insults at the woman, who was too embarrassed to say the words out loud, and wrote them down for the judge.&lt;br /&gt;Ã‚Â“He was coming to complain, and then he started saying bad things to me,Ã‚Â” she said. Ã‚Â“I tried to calm him down and I told him that I would fetch my boss.Ã‚Â” LL was jailed for a month and fined dhs5,000. An Emaar security officer was also fined dhs5,000 for swearing back at the angry customer, a verdict that Emaar is appealing. The company said that while the case is still with the courts, they did not want to comment in detail but said that: Ã‚Â“Aggressive customers are not the norm for Emaar and there is no special policy to handle them.Ã‚Â”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emaar added that the vast majority of its 13,000 homeowners are satisfied, but said that the company is Ã‚Â“open to genuine grievances, if any, of our customers.Ã‚Â” Ã‚Â“We have proper systems in place to ensure that our homeowners and tenants enjoy the best of amenities and conveniences.Ã‚Â”&lt;br /&gt;Robert Keay, managing director of Ethos, a customer service consultancy, told 7DAYS that while he found swearing unacceptable, he understood how frustrating poor customer service can be.Ã‚Â“IÃ‚Â’ve witnessed several incidents when customers in Dubai lost their cool when problems were not solved for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ã‚Â“It happens every single day all over the world when people feel frustrated and lose the ability to think about the consequences of their actions,Ã‚Â” he added. All in all Keay believes customer service in Dubai is still much better than any other GCC country".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115084811466107322?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115084811466107322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115084811466107322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084811466107322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084811466107322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/watch-your-mouth.html' title='Watch your mouth'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115084747322568416</id><published>2006-06-21T03:18:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T03:39:03.453+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Caught with your pants down</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyone who has been to Dubai always comments on how many prostitutes there are in the city servicing the businessman and the locals. Ladies of the night parade their wares on the street and in some hotels. The stereotype is that the woman is Russian or Eastern European. The guy below was obviously with a pro but the police couldn't prove it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;From the newspaper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.7days.ae"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;www.7days.ae&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"A Dubai court handed out a not-guilty verdict to an Asian man and a Russian woman accused of having an illicit affair in a public place. The man identified as AK, was charged with kissing and groping the woman inside a car in a parking area in Deira. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="flipword" title="Visit http://www.dubaipolice.gov.ae/" href="http://www.dubaipolice.gov.ae/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Dubai police&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; pulled the car over in March and when AK exited the vehicle, his trouser belt was undone. The officers could also smell alcohol. AK claimed that he had forgotten to do up his belt after going to the toilet. The court fined the couple dhs1000 for drinking alcohol but the judge said there was not enough evidence to convict them on the other count".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115084747322568416?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115084747322568416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115084747322568416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084747322568416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084747322568416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/caught-with-your-pants-down.html' title='Caught with your pants down'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115084577804220419</id><published>2006-06-21T03:18:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T11:31:20.960+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Googler</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Googler has moved out of our apartment building. No, not a google - er but a man who stares at me all the time and has now got that nick name. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Googler is a man who for some reason took a bit of a liking to me. He, himself, had smooth dark skin and perhaps my off-milk complexion was intriguing to him. Either way I'm glad he's gone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I first met him when I was in the pool on the roof our building two months ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I was attempting to do some sort of aqua aerobics but it now occurs to me that he probably thought I was drowning as my arms flapped around in the water. He rushed up the stairs and over to the pool saying 'Helllloooooo'?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;'Hello...?' I replied somewhat reddish in the face. I was slightly embarrassed that:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;a) a person, any person, would see me in my bathers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;b) that this person had obviously seen me do my funky dance moves in water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;c) that he had been watching me for some time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;He then went on to ask how often I did my routine. I told him that I was just playing and was about to leave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Try to picture this. 5 pm in the afternoon. P was at work. The roof top was deserted. The Googler was standing in front of the stair well and there I was waist deep in water in a Muslim country, baring my shoulders and it could be argued, dancing provocatively. Aaarggghh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Googler lights a fag and then heads to the sit on the solitary bench. I jump out of the pool and wrap myself in a towel and try to put a t-shirt on. The Googler just stares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;It then of course seems that every time I see the Googler that I'm alone. Either in the stair well or in the lift. Each time he says 'Hellloooo?' and leers at me...all over me. When I tell P about the Googler he laughs and tells me that my imagination is great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then I saw the Googler three days ago. He was carrying boxes through the foyer, about to load a truck and tells me that he'll miss our chats and that he doesn't get to speak English often. Then I feel sort of guilty. I realise what seemed inappropriate and creepy to me was this persons only known way of communicating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Goodbye Googler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115084577804220419?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115084577804220419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115084577804220419' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084577804220419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115084577804220419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/googler.html' title='The Googler'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-115021085524212933</id><published>2006-06-13T18:52:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T19:00:55.256+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just one deep breath please Sir</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I was reading the crime pages with my morning coffee and was reading how some people (Westerners) in Doha, Qatar were locked up and awaiting deportation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;They apparently had drinks in a hotel bar then went to a restaurant off the premises and had an argument. The owner called the police who charged them with disturbing the peace and then they took a breath test, which of course, they tested positive. They were then charged with being drunk in a public place and are now awaiting deportation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagine if this law existed in Australia how many people would be deported every Friday night?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-115021085524212933?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/115021085524212933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=115021085524212933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115021085524212933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/115021085524212933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/just-one-deep-breath-please-sir.html' title='Just one deep breath please Sir'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114933830563308132</id><published>2006-06-03T16:25:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T19:24:42.733+04:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with myself - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So it goes on... and on...feel free to jump in at any time and ask a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the national sport?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falconry is when men who like big birds take them into the desert and train them to fly (places?) and stuff. Camel and horse racing are pretty big here too and are the closest thing to AFL or soccer. Child jockeys have been replaced by robots as there were humanitarian concerns for the children and I can vaguely remember Four Corners doing a story on it some time ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Due to the large Pakistani and Indian contigent cricket in disused building lots is a favourite past time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are there radio stations?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there are a few English speaking ones, 4 I think that are FM. They're ok; like listening to a commercial station in Australia but most of the presenters are English, although the other day I did hear a Kiwi reading the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there TV?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, unfortunately for me though P is not a TV watcher so we don't have it. However someone recently told him that AFL matches are screened and that may well be the key to my future happiness. I've paid 300 dirhams to the local video store and can borrow 18 films which is quite good value. I watched the whole Sopranos series...&lt;em&gt;got myself a gun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress. Yes there are TV stations. BBC, CNN and Al Jazeera are the main contenders. Most expat people here have cable TV and pay around $80 a month for a ridiculous amount of channels which have American and English shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the food like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food is great. In terms of eating out there's plenty of cafes and restaurants that offer various cuisines. Traditional food is sort of like a mixture of Turkish and Lebanese. A typical menu might offer tabbouleh, hummous, metaboul (smoky eggplant dip), manikish ( a delicious type of pizza) and various grilled meats and fish. Dubai also has lots of vegetarian Indian restaurants which are great value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only criticism is that in terms of eating out there are only low end and high end venues. A curry will be around 20 dirhams per person and a meal in a hotel which is a licensed venue and therefore offers alcohol can cost around 150 dirhams upwards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are the supermarkets like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huge, barn-like style things. There are 3 key players. &lt;em&gt;Carrefours&lt;/em&gt;, a French hyper-market which sells everything from fridges to bbq's to fresh fruit and vegetables. Their most impressive asset is their deli section which has different types of cheeses, nuts, dips and olives. It's sensational. The quality of fruit and vegetables across the board is pretty low and annoyingly, due to the climate and transportation time, they don't last very long at all and fridge life is around 2 days. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spinneys &lt;/em&gt;stocks lovely Waitrose ingredients and I never tire of checking out what delicious things they have in stock. &lt;em&gt;Choithrams&lt;/em&gt; is an Indian chain I think and they are generally smaller and cheaper and have a great deli section. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are clothes cheap?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;To my great disappointment no. I'm not sure I agree with Dubai Tourism when they claim that Dubai has the best shopping in the world. Clothes are pretty much at Melbourne prices but there are very few independent labels here. If you're into Prada, Versace and bling bling then shopping here will be heaven. There are huge malls and the gold souk (gold market) can reproduce anything that your heart desires for a fraction of the retail price. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When is the weekend?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;At the moment weekends are spilt for the working population. Many people work Sunday - Thursday lunch time or Sunday - Friday and have one day off. As of September weekends will now be on Friday and Saturday across government departments and it looks likely than the private sector will follow as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finally...do you like living in Dubai?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmmm...great question and one that I ask myself all the time! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;At the moment I'd describe the city and myself as suffering from s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;plit personality disorder. Every day it seems different and I feel different towards it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm always learning new and interesting tid bits about food and the culture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Some days I think wow! what an interesting and lively place and there so many nice people here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Other days, generally when I've walked somewhere, am sweating profusely and feeling like Pedro from the film Napoleon Dynamite, that I then feel trapped in an oven and want to get out. (In the film Pedro gets a very hot head and decides to shave his hair off; I can emphathise). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Local people always say "Inshallah" which loosely translates to "God willing". Perhaps I'll adopt that ideology a little more and see what happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114933830563308132?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114933830563308132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114933830563308132' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114933830563308132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114933830563308132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/06/conversation-with-myself-part-2.html' title='A conversation with myself - Part 2'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114899724124945660</id><published>2006-05-30T17:32:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T10:47:33.816+04:00</updated><title type='text'>I mean yeah, I mean no,  I mean yeah but no</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hopped into a taxi yesterday and asked the driver to take me to the Emirates building on Sheik Zayed Road. The guy nodded "Yes of course madam". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;As we seemed to be driving for a long time I ask "Are we nearly there yet?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Ah, madam...I'm not sure...let me ask my cousin". He then makes a call on his mobile while driving. "Ok, sorry we go the wrong way". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;When we get to the Emirates building I find out that I'm at the wrong place and hop in another cab. "Do you know the Emirates Travel Hub?". "Yes, uh huh..yes...I think....madam".&lt;br /&gt;"Are you &lt;em&gt;sure&lt;/em&gt; you know where it is?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is a slight nod of the head and a smile "I'll just call my uncle madam". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;People here seem to have an issue with saying no. No one says no. And it's very confronting and frustrating for Westerners. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Will the drycleaning be ready by 5pm?" " Yes madam" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;At 5pm the drycleaning is still not ready and there's no point in asking when it will be done because the response is always the same. "Sorry madam, there's been a delay". "There's been a problem with machines". "Our driver is on our way to you".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;As I discovered yesterday patience is a virtue and one that I'm working on. Everything seems to take twice as long to get things done. Something that appears to be a simple task can become a major pain and only when you accept that there is a "delay" and always will be, that you find it's all ok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114899724124945660?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114899724124945660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114899724124945660' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114899724124945660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114899724124945660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-mean-yeah-i-mean-no-i-mean-yeah-but.html' title='I mean yeah, I mean no,  I mean yeah but no'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114882804103283421</id><published>2006-05-28T18:14:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T18:59:16.716+04:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Someone said to me that they wanted to ask lots of little things but thought that they sounded silly. A past English teacher always told me "That there's no such thing as a silly question". So I've taken the liberty of creating some questions and answering them for myself; pretty much like having a conversation with myself, which I do everyday anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I've missed something that you want to know about, just ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's Dubai like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I came here someone told me that Dubai is like a large sand-pit with lots of cranes and construction. They weren't wrong. Dubai apparently has 20% of the world's cranes and there is construction everywhere you look. It's a very international city and in the supermarket queues you hear accents from all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people seem very friendly and if you ask about their culture or country they are very respsonsive. The majority of the local population is Muslim and there are mosques all over the city. Food is abundant and cheap and there are lots of cafes and restaurants representing most nationalities. Pastimes include shopping, shopping and uh...shopping. People spend their spare time in malls because they're air-conditioned and often house cinemas and cafes. Arabic is the official language and English is widely spoken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the weather like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOT! Every day since I've been here the paper says its 36 degrees. According to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gulfnews.com"&gt;http://www.gulfnews.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; the weather has never altered in that time. How strange is that? Now as the seasons change and the city goes into summer the expected average daily is 42 degrees. If its get hotter than that, according to urban myth, it's not reported in the paper, because people go a bit crazy. Apparently during June, July &amp;amp; August a lot of things close down. If a pub or club has an outdoor bar they close it down until September when the weather becomes cooler and many people take a whole month of work and leave for Europe where itÃ‚Â’s cooler. Everything is air-conditioned. The only time when you're hot is when you're waiting for a taxi or walking somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are the toilets like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toilets I've seen are Western and also have a hose attachment for those who prefer water to paper. Of course, eating with your left hand is considered dirty. You work it out. Some public toilets, like at the BurJuman Centre, are huge. I stumbled across them one day and was amazed when I pushed open the cubicle door to find a small room complete with toilet, basin, mirror and tissues, all for the one user with marble bench tops and lovely interiorss.There are also cleaning ladies waiting as soon as you walk out, ready to wipe down the basin as you leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's your apartment like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is quite Arabic in style and is obviously made for short people. I'm 5'8"and I stoop to chop vegetables at the kitchen bench, which is all marble by the way. Our bathroom was designed by some future starved individual that thought that they would create a shower that is really a space ship. There are two shower heads, a spa and a radio inside something that looks like its about to take off. Mind you as with a lot of things here only half of it works. The radio never worked and one of the shower heads died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The floors here are all typically tiled, ours are large white slabs, and the place is quite cool all day and night. We have some rugs on the floor to make it less noisy as you can hear when people above get up to leave the table after dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a garbage shoot in the hallway, which makes me feel very American and we have a doorman. He's called a doorman but he's really a nice Pakistani man who seems to be asleep in his chair for most of the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How much is rent?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rent here is very high and is generally speaking paid by the quarter or annually. An average 2 bedroom apartment costs 60,000 dirhams per year. In the area I live, Bur Dubai, a 2 bedroom place cost around 30,000 dirhams in 2002. Rent increases are huge and there is serious competition in finding a place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's your address?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one here has postal delivery to their home. If you want to receive post you have to rent a post box or know someone who has a post box and use theirs. Of course, you can only do this once you obtain residency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How do I become a resident?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get residency is when you are sponsored by your spouse/employer and you have applied to the local authorities to stay here on a permanent basis by filling out a lot of paperwork and getting your life documented and notarized for lots of money. The rules change regularly and its worth speaking to the UAE consulate to find out exactly what you need to do to qualify for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Burnin' rubber&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving here is a major hazard. As I write there have been 120 deaths in the UAE this year. That's one a day. The driving itself is atrocious. No one really indicates and even though the speed limit is 120km on the freeway people drive at 150km because the speed guns are set at 160km. According to the police most accidents are caused from speeding. The police have recently introduced fines for people who stop and watch accidents because it is such a sport and cause major traffic jams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic is a serious issue here. Due to bad driving, not enough roads and general lack of confidence on the road the roads are jam packed from 4pm onwards. A lot of businesses work from 8am - 4pm and never stay beyond that time because driving home can be so bad and something that would take 5 minutes in a quite period can take over an hour in peak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trains, planes and automobiles&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only public transport here is buses which are really cheap but unreliable. Taxis are plentiful, cheap and know where they're going. Flights out of Dubai are very reasonable due to the cheap fuel here. Cars are cheap to buy. A second hand Jag which was 2 years old and with low mileage was advertised for 10 k AUD. There are heaps of 4WDS and Hummers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no trains but there are plans for a metro which is currently under construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114882804103283421?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114882804103283421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114882804103283421' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114882804103283421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114882804103283421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/conversation-with-myself.html' title='A conversation with myself'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114779197457997871</id><published>2006-05-16T19:01:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T19:06:14.580+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Liquid Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Its official â€“ I love beer. I love the different flavours and I love how some marketing guru at Grolsch created one for each season and the best of course is the blond beer with a slice of lemon, drank while sitting on a terrace in Europe somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I love it when people (me included) have no idea about a place and then jump to conclusions. â€œYou wonâ€™t be able to drink in Dubaiâ€�. Yes you can drink in Dubai. You can drink in a licensed venue, ie restaurants, bars, band venues and in your own home. Drunk and disorderly is not tolerated here, youâ€™ll most likely go to prison. Drink driving has a zero tolerance, if youâ€™re picked up drink driving then you automatically lose your licence, go to jail and face deportation. Itâ€™s apparently becoming more common amongst the expat community, as the numbers swell the number of laws broken increases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There are loads of bars here. The majority being linked to hotels. Itâ€™s a really weird concept, I wouldnâ€™t imagine going to the Park Hyatt for drinks in Melbourne, but here if you want to head out you go to a ritzy hotel thatâ€™s filled with glam girls and bad cover bands. On Wednesday night (think of it as a Friday night) I went to a bar to see a â€œjazz bandâ€�. The jazz band in question played â€œTake me to the riverâ€� and other numbers that the crowd could croon to. The bar itself was packed with mainly blokes who all looked like engineers who were there for one thing â€“ to get smashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;To give you an idea of cost â€“ I had a glass of Grolsch, it turned out to be a pint and was 30 dirhams ($15 AUD). P had a pint of some Belgian amber liquid that cost 40 dirhams. Pretty expensive night out huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114779197457997871?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114779197457997871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114779197457997871' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114779197457997871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114779197457997871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/liquid-gold.html' title='Liquid Gold'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114759268327309304</id><published>2006-05-14T11:36:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T19:08:36.640+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing my religion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The most beautiful mosque in Dubai is the Jumeriah Mosque which is rather grand and imposing. Like a great Roman church the people here hold it in high regard. It gleems gold and is well taken care of by the locals and the government. The Sheik Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding has a program â€œOpen Doors:Open Mindsâ€�, which fosters education and understanding of Islam and runs tours of the mosque and other initiation tours for those interested in learning more about the faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I visited the Mosque and meet the delightful guide who was also a real estate agent. He was very funny and made great cracks about calling him if you were ever in trouble and needed a roof over your head. His assistant was from Sydney and she has lived here for 10 years. Itâ€™s not very common here to see a white women in the traditional Muslim dress and Iâ€™m intrigued to meet her and talk about how she came to live here. There was plenty of questions about terrorists from the mainly Yanky crowd and the real estate agent, in his wisdom, pointed out that the people of Islam canâ€™t and shouldnâ€™t be held respsonsible for the actions of some extreme individuals. Thatâ€™s such a huge topic though and what I really wanted to convey were that the basic principles of being a Muslim struck me as being so similar to that of Christianity that it was bizarre. Kindness, tolerance, charityâ€¦&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;he Islamic holy day is Friday and therefore a day of rest in UAE. The weekend here doesnâ€™t exist like it does in the West. Most people take from Thursday noon and all day Friday off and then go back to work on Saturday morning. So the big night out for everyone is Wednesdays and Thursdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Polygamy is practiced here and men can have up to four wives at one time, on the provision that he can provide for them all finally and physically equally. Women rule the roost though and they run the home and financial affairs. The man must provide for the family. Any money that the women makes from her business or investments is hers to keep â€“ I must admit I quite like that idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Muslims are required to pray five times a day facing towards Mecca, the holy city that is in Saudi Arabia. The call to prayer is transmitted over loud speakers and the time varies depending on the sunrise. Itâ€™s like someone singing and is very peaceful. There are a lot of mosques in Dubai and there is a plan to build enough mosques so that people donâ€™t have to work more than 500 metres to pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;When the call to prayer goes it gives people 20 minutes to get to the nearest mosque and begin the ritual of washing before prayer. There is a communal outdoor bath where you wash your face, hands, ears, nose, arms and feet three times each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Friday, which is holy day, is the day that everyone goes to the mosque and the Iman (similar role to the priest) gives something similar to a sermon with a common theme such as kindness or charity. The Iman also conducts weddings which are held at the brides parents house and apparently are grand affairs that can run for days. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is definitely a class system here, the locals (the Emiraties) are considered the richest (Iâ€™m talking about the locals who have money in their blood), then the White westerners, then the Phillipinos, then the Indians. Recently in Time Out Dubai there was a stat saying that Indian construction workers got paid on average 500 dirhams per month. To give you an idea of how bad that is a basic admin role gets around 5,000 dirhams and excec jobs are 10,000+.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oink Oink&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes itâ€™s true that Muslims donâ€™t eat pork. However they do sell pork in supermarkets. In some of the main supermarkets there is a small room off to the side and there will be a sign above it saying â€œPork Shopâ€�. You can buy bacon, sausages â€¦anything that your piggy heart desires. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can tell a Wella woman by the way she wears her hair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So many people have asked me â€œdo you have to wear a headscarfâ€�? Let me dispel some simple myths and tell you what I know so far to be true.Musilm women cover their hair and bodies to conceal their beauty from the eyes of strangers and reserve it for their husband and family. The long black dress is called the abaya and the headscarf is the sheyla and no I donâ€™t have to wear either. Interestingly Muslim women are seriously into their fashion and wear the latest gear under their abaya. The abaya is made of very sheer fabric and as I understand is always black but can be bought with various decorations on the sleeves or collars. A burkha is very traditional dress and covers the head and the only thing visible is the eyes. The older generation appear to the ones wearing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Men wear a long white dress called dishdash and what people often refer to as a tea towel is called a gutra. Dubai, in particular, is a very liberal society and I see women everyday wearing mini skirts and singlets but I have noticed that people, both men and women, stare at them. Iâ€™ve always been a firm believer that less is more so I stick to my grandma costume - works for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114759268327309304?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114759268327309304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114759268327309304' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114759268327309304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114759268327309304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/losing-my-religion.html' title='Losing my religion'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114710286519396922</id><published>2006-05-08T19:32:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T14:40:21.063+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Itâ€™s fab dahling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I found Fabindia (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fabindia.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;www.fabindia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;), itâ€˜s a beautiful shop with lots of glourious reams of colourful fabric, some tunics and homewares. It was so refreshing to walk through the doors to find shelves of cool cotton with lovely patterns that have all been handcrafted in India. Apparently there are only two shops outside of India and this is one of them. I bought some pillow cases and a long tunic top with a Chinese collar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Another thing that is also really fab is Spinneys. Itâ€™s a supermarket that stocks Waitrose products (Waitrose is a UK supermarket well known for its quality food stuffs) and is a haven for any ex-pat living in Dubai. Tim Tams, Vegemite, Australian lamb, cheese from all over the world, South African breakfast cereal and Dutch cookies. Iâ€™m in shopping heaven when Iâ€™m there. I spent 2 hours looking through stock, seeing where all the different types of pasta came from and reading all the labels until the security guard kept looking at me, I then decided it was time to pay for my miserly bread and milk and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;One last fab thing. I was in the lift in our apartment building and saw a girl wearing her bathers. â€œIs there a pool near here?â€�  I asked. â€œYes, on the 4th floorâ€� she replied looking at me like I was some sort of idiot. Eh?&lt;br /&gt;P had told me that there was no pool. As soon as I got home I put on my bathers and raced upstairs for some refreshment. My neighbour was there in her not-so-modest togs and me in my grandma costume. Together we silently swam in our pool, on the rooftop of our apartment building in central Dubai when the call to prayer went at the mosque went 2 blocks away. We smiled at each other and at that moment I thought â€œIsnâ€™t life fab?â€�&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114710286519396922?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114710286519396922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114710286519396922' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114710286519396922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114710286519396922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/its-fab-dahling.html' title='Itâ€™s fab dahling!'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114658185123663412</id><published>2006-05-02T18:45:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T11:31:46.666+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing wifey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've been in Dubai for a week and am attempting to set up our new home. Most of it's furnished but I still need to buy new linen, towels and Western modernities like a coffee plunger. I don't mind playing wifey because that's what I am at the moment. I'm unemployed and the agreement is that I'm a kept woman so I do the domestic jobs like grocery shopping, drycleaning and cooking. Hey, hang on, isn't that what I normally do when I work full time anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went shopping today, as you do in Dubai. I tried to find an Indian hyper-market that only the guide book seems to knows about. I asked eight Indian people "Do you know where Fabindia is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reply was shaking of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read a directory or a guide book it will often say Fabindia...great homewares store. Taxi: Near The Hilton Hotel, off Bank St. No one goes by street numbers. Unusual eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After walking for 30 minutes I gave up and went into a supermarket to cool off in free air conditioning and to my delight I found a coffee plunger...Praise Allah!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114658185123663412?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114658185123663412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114658185123663412' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114658185123663412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114658185123663412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/05/playing-wifey.html' title='Playing wifey'/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24327775.post-114273333121012015</id><published>2006-03-19T05:42:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T11:30:42.806+04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This blog name is a little white lie. I'm actually in Melbourne, Australia and am about to head over to Dubai and follow my partner, P, in the name of love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;P is an architect and like a lot of people in Dubai has a high flying job that pays him lots of $$$$. Meanwhile I'm finishing off my work commitments in Melbourne and will be there by the end of April.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hope to use this blog to entertain, inform and educate anyone who wants to know what they need to do to live in Dubai and also what its like for a white western woman. Stay tuned...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24327775-114273333121012015?l=kookieindubai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/feeds/114273333121012015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24327775&amp;postID=114273333121012015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114273333121012015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24327775/posts/default/114273333121012015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kookieindubai.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-blog-name-is-little-white-lie.html' title=''/><author><name>kookie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02269328519481141077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
