Senior Paloozza Week

Photo by Krissy's mom: Taylor and Krissy are ready for prom. Are they adorable, or what?

Taylor describes this week as “Senior Paloozza Week.” So far, he’s had Senior Beach Day, Senior Barbeque, Senior Dodgeball Game, and prom.

I highly recommend moving your high schoolers overseas for prom. It’s considerably cheaper here. There’s no tuxedo rental shops and the guys wear suits. Prom tickets, which included dinner, were free. The whole evening cost us a grand total of $47. That breaks down to $35 as Taylor’s share of the Hummer limo and $12 for Krissy’s corsage. (I think Alec spent more than that just on bottled water at the restaurant for his prom. )

Most people in Abu Dhabi order their corsages at the flower shop at Spinney’s. For one thing, they actually KNOW what a corsage is. I was one of several moms picking up corsages when I overheard one Emiratti, who was buying a humongous bouquet, ask about these little flower arrangements. The Philipino flower guy then tried to explain the American concept of prom. Emiratis don’t do prom. Actually, they don’t do dating.

This week also was another landmark event Taylor referred to as his "Last Forced Haircut." The results will be unveiled Thursday night for at his graduation.

Photo by Larry Perkins: Taylor looks suitably snazzy against our living room wallpaper.

Come Blow Your Camel Horn

Photo: The Blue Souq in Sharjah.

This week was the Abu Dhabi Ladies’ road trip to Sharjah. We met at 8 a.m. in the parking lot of the Hilton and 44 expat women loaded into the bus. Our destination was the Blue Souq in Sharjah.

Sharjah is the third largest emirates in the U.A.E., after Dubai and Abu Dhabi. We actually drove through Dubai to get there and it was impossible for me to tell where the city of Dubai ended and the city of Sharjah began. Well, maybe there were a few less cranes and a few more 1970s buildings. Both were coastal cities pretty much devoid of any vegetation.

But Sharjah is barren in another way as well. It is illegal to buy or consume any alcohol here.

A lot of people who can’t afford Dubai rents live in Sharjah. The commuter traffic is notorious bad. But because we were traveling opposite the crowd, it only took us about 2.5 hours to reach our destination.

The souq, built in 1971, consists of two long two-story buildings, connected by two narrow passageways. It was easy to spot because the exterior is covered with thousands of blue tiles.

The sign outside said, “Central Market” but I’ve never heard anyone call it that. The U.A.E. seems to be filled with places that have official names no one ever uses.

In fact, in Abu Dhabi, Larry and I have difficulty giving each other directions. Because he drives, Larry’s only learned the official names of streets. Because I take taxis, I’ve only learned their colloquial ones.

In the second shop, my friend BJ, spotted some Iranian illustrations. They were pages torn from old books, mostly Omar Kayam stories. She slowly reviewed each of the 50 illustrations trying to narrow down her choices. When she accepted the owner’s offer of mint tea, I knew she’d be lingering there so we agreed to split up.

In the next couple of hours, I covered the rest of the souq. There were a lot of Persian carpet shops as well as shops specializing in either linens, wooden items, or brass work from India. They also many jewelry shops and a fair number of stores with antiques and silver from Oman. A few shops had Turkish exports, including tea sets and hookah pipes. Then there were the usual cheesy tourist souvenirs and “pashmina shawl” places with merchandise probably made in China.

It’s fun for tourists, but I’d seen all this before so I wasn’t tempted to buy anything. At least not until the horn sounded. A vendor, noting my disinterest in his wares, brought out a brass camel horn. It was the first thing I’d ever seen that was actually MADE in the U.A.E.

I liked it so much, I bought it AND some camel bells. The vendor was a bit disappointed that I didn’t go for the “camel ankle bracelet” but really, how many accessories does one camel need?

After that, he tried really hard to sell me a beautifully engraved and very expensive silver Iranian sword I’d admired. I smiled, thinking about the high pressure sales tactics Alec encountered at the car dealership. (I had told Alec that getting you to buy was the salesman's job and it was Alec's job to do what was best for him.) Taking my own advise, I firmly told the vendor I couldn’t buy something so expensive without my husband.

After the souq, we stopped at a modern mall in Sharjah. BJ and I ate a leisurely Italian lunch before going over to Aldo, a shoe store chain. The day before, Aldo had text me they were having a “promotion.” Even though there was absolutely no indication of it in the store, when I asked about the promotion, they told me all their shoes were 25-50% off.

I bought some new flat brown sandals to replace the Nine West ones that had not held up to my walking. We met at the bus at the appointed time with all our treasure.

On the drive back, BJ and I again won the trivia contest, mostly by knowing what dioxynucleic acid is and what Puff Daddy changed his name to. We were subsequently banned from the next trivia contest as retiring champions. We would have lost anyway, as neither of us knew that the tallest waterfall is in Venezuela.

Okay, so maybe I don't excell at geography. But I was the only one on the bus with her own camel horn. That has to count for something.

Photo by Larry Perkins: Nancy displays her camel accessories.

Life as Usual

Larry and I got up at 6:30 a.m. and walked across the street to worked out at World Gym. We came home an hour later, tired and sweaty. I made the coffee and fixed myself a protein shake with blueberries.

Taylor had already left for school when we returned, taking the money I left him on the entry table to cover his portion of the Hummer Limo he and his friends are getting for prom this weekend.

Larry took a shower and left for work, leaving behind the file folder with 10 pages of insurance paperwork he needed to fax so we can get reimbursements. (Putting that together was my major project for yesterday.)

I was checking my emails and waiting the hot water in my bathroom to heat up when Alec called. He had neglected to give me his new phone number so I hadn’t been able to reach him for our regularly scheduled weekly call. We discussed the wonderful world of credit unions.

After that, I finally got cleaned up. But at this point, I needed to eat. Taylor had finished off the boiled eggs in the refrigerator, so I measured out one ounce of cheese. (The lengths I go to stay slim. I could eat everything I wanted if I could just accept being 15 pounds heavier. It’s a tempting tradeoff.)

Since everything but the mall and grocery stores close down beginning at one o’clock, I had to get moving. I walked over to the Indian-owned department store, KL Trading, to buy more Swiss Army knives. I buy a lot of these, mostly because Larry has a terrible habit of forgetting to take them out of his pocket when traveling. He has surrendered Swiss Army knives at airport security checkpoints all over the world.

I had bought a couple of knives there before but the display box was not in its usual place. I wandered around, finally spotting it behind a load of boxes. The store clerks very politely moved the boxes out of the way and unlocked the box. They had two Classics, both white, and I took them. The clerk wrote up a bill which I took to the cash desk before I could retrieve my knives, a system I hadn’t seen since Russia.

Next, I crossed the street and hailed a cab to the local post office to mail Taylor’s graduation announcements. The announcement included his high school senior picture which featured Tay in a toothy grin prompted by the photographer. As neither of my sons EVER grins showing their teeth, the picture looks more like someone who sort of resembles Taylor, rather than Taylor himself.

Almost all Abu Dhabi mail is metered, but as these were going to people in the U.S., I wanted to use stamps. The stamps were kept in a locked drawer, but they sent someone to fetch the guy with the key. I licked and stuck on two falcon stamps per envelope so recipients are also getting my DNA. (DNA? I must be watching too many episodes of CSI.)

The post office was about a 10 minute walk from Koreana, an interesting furniture and accessory store with Asian imports. It was still before one p.m. so I decided to drop in. On the way I passed West Zone Grocery where I had previously found Crisco in sticks. Who knew what other exotic Western foods they may have gotten in? But I resisted stopping to see as I still had more errands to run and didn’t want to have to carry anything.

There was nothing I wanted at Koreana, so I caught a taxi to Marina Mall. I went to Eldiar, the furniture store where'd we'd gotten our modern dining room set to look for end tables for the living room. Our guests were really tired of balance their wine glasses and coffee cups on their knees.

I had no luck with that so I moved on to Carrefour. I was able to get almost everything on my grocery list but the plastic toothbrush traveling case. Larry’s had disappeared. He confided to me that it may have been stolen out of his bathroom. Yes, someone passed up the jewelry and electronics but couldn’t resist his plastic toothbrush holder.

Actually, jewelry and electronics can be replaced. I’m not sure WHERE to find a new toothbrush holder.

I stopped by the Carrefour deli and picked up a couple of chicken samosas, Taylor’s favorite afterschool snack.

Leaving Carrefour, I noticed that even though it was now past one o’clock, the Abu Dhabi Distribution Company kiosk was still open. I stopped by and was able to pay my combined electric and water bill for our apartment, about US$80 a month. I also requested that I start receiving bills in English again. A couple of months ago, my bill had inexplicably switched to Arabic.

Exiting the mall, I noticed a tour group of Northeasten Europeans. They are easily identifiable because they have stark white skin and both men and women wear big clunky walking sandals. I thought, "Who needs a tour group to go to a mall?" Of course, the very next day found ME going to a mall in a tour group. (More on my field trip to Sharjah tomorrow.)

There were a line of available taxis waiting, so I got in the first one and headed for home. No toothbrush holder or end tables, but a fairly productive outing.

No Cash in the Attic

Our expanded cable TV line-up includes a BBC program called “Cash in the Attic.”

In this show, an auction expert goes through a British family home helping them find unwanted stuff to sell. The family has some financial goal like trying to raise money for a video camera. The expert always has a lot of items to choose from as these people invariably KEEP everything anyone in the family has ever owned.

“Yes, that huge eyesore belonged to my Uncle Harry. I’ve always hated it.” So WHY has it been taking up half the bedroom for the past 20 years? Then it hit me. Obviously these people have never moved.

Moving brings you to the inevitable conclusion that you have WAY too many possessions. And there's no way you are packing up all that rarely-used, ugly stuff to go forward into your new life. You are all pared down until you arrive at the next place where you have to go buy things to fill new and different gaps.

I’ve moved a lot so everything left in my home is currently in use, even though its use may be just making me happy. This would explain the abundance of antique copper pots.

The Cash in the Attic expert would not be able to find a video camera’s worth of stuff to sell in my home. “I love/need that. I’m not parting with it!” would be my response to everything. Okay, they could sell the Russian landscape painting in the guest bedroom. But everything else stays.

I was feeling pretty smug until I remembered seeing my friend, Eleanor’s jacket. Eleanor adores textiles and had designed a jacket trimmed with embroidery pieces she had picked up on her travels.

When I lived in China, I had bought an ugly peasant jacket of rough cotton that had panels of beautiful hand embroidery. I got it for about $10 at the Dirt Market where vendors set up tables in the dirt on weekends. As a second grader, Taylor once bought a nasty looking switchblade knife there. He showed it to me on the drive home and I was forced to buy it off him.

I disposed of the knife, but I never did anything with the jacket. It moved with me from Beijing to Scottsdale to Moscow to Abu Dhabi, just taking up space in a storage box.

Eleanor is moving back to Houston this summer, so I quickly corralled her to help me put my embroideries to use. She took me “Sari World” where they had beautiful raw silk material and then to her talented tailor.

She had earlier asked if I was in a big hurry to get the finished items. As I’d had the embroidery since 1999, I wouldn’t say it was exactly urgent. The tailor will be chopping up the Chinese jacket to decorate not one, but two new raw silk jackets. This still leaves me two 8-inch square embroidery panels which I plan to have framed.

You know, they would look really good in the spot where that ugly Russian landscape now hangs. I really MUST get rid of that thing.

Photo: Russian landscape.

On the Road Again

My favorite mode of transportation in cities is walking. As I stroll along, I seem to absorb all the energy from the activities surrounding me. Driving, on the other hand, seems to zap my energy.

Driving here is tough because most people are foreigners and they seem to follow whatever rules (or lack thereof) applied in their home countries. You literally never know WHAT the drivers around you are going to do. Even worse are the pedestrians who constantly dart in front of traffic on busy streets rather than waiting a minute for the light to change. You have to be constantly alert behind the wheel, a process I find exhausting.

So my solution was not to drive. And for 95% of the places I go, it’s faster to walk or to take a taxi. I have accepted rides home with friends, only to be stuck for 15 minutes while they attempt to maneuver out of their now blocked-in parking places. As I stand in the heat, directing them a fraction of an inch to the left or right, I think, “If I’d taken a cab, I’d be home by now.”

But there’s still those other 5% of places I go (the U.S. Embassy, the Equestrian Club, a popular expat grocery) where taxi service is hit or miss. And now that it’s 110, I really don’t want to be waiting around outside 20 minutes for a cab.

I actually have a local driver’s license. To obtain it, I had to provide a letter of permission from my husband in Arabic. And with Larry in Sweden this week, our car was just sitting in the underground parking garage below our building.

I picked up the keys. I say “keys” but what we have is a single chunk of plastic. I haven’t driven in more than two years so maybe this is standard for cars now. Anyway, you put the plastic chunk in a slot and push a button to start the car.

Our assigned slot is next to a wall and it takes two tries to back out of our space. I carefully wound my way out of our parking garage and drove the short distance to Taylor’s school. It was his final performance with the choir, a very enjoyable evening with a variety of international music.

Afterwards, I drove Taylor home. I went a bit out of our way in order to avoid two tricky left turns.

“So how’d you like being chauffered home in your own car?” I asked proudly.

“A taxi would have been quicker,” he said.

Photo: Taylor prepares for his choir concert.

Ticket Talk

If you have to fly coach (and unfortunately, I do), the best airlines are Singapore Air, Emirates and Etihad. Unlike U.S.-based airlines, these airline employees are actually nice to you. They bring you warm towels. They cheerfully serve you complimentary hot meals. Okay, you are still wedged into seats with no decent legroom, but at least you have a personal entertainment system with a choice of movies to distract you.

One of the great things about living in the U.A.E. is that two of these three airlines are based here. Etihad is always my first choice as it flies out of Abu Dhabi, allowing me to cut at least two to three hours each way out of my travel time over going through Dubai.

But unlike Sing Air and Emirates, you can’t buy Etihad tickets on popular websites like Travelocity or Expedia. If you want to buy tickets online, you have to use Etihad’s website. That website was being unnecessarily mercenary yesterday. No matter how often I clicked on the lower price, it would only sell me their highest price tickets.

I decide to trot over to an Etihad ticket office. This is not a big inconvenience as they have one right across the street. The only catch is that they keep traditional hours, meaning they close up shop daily from 1 to 5 p.m. At the ticket office, I was able to reserve our seats to JFK but not purchase them. For that, I had to walk back and get our passports. An American accent wasn't good enough.

Taylor will be staying in the U.S. to go to college. So I bought him a one-way ticket. Let’s see, a one-way ticket from the Middle East into the U.S... That’s not suspicious, huh? I built an extra hour into our layover to accomodate any special scrutiny from immigrations.

But these tickets took us only as far as New York. Etihad couldn’t book us on any ongoing flights. So I fired up the computer and bought an American Airlines ticket that would get me from JFK to Phoenix and back. I was astounded to find that while my roundtrip ticket cost $398, a one way ticket was $781.

I will now have to explain to the expense report people why I bought Taylor a roundtrip ticket when he only needed one way. But if this is the biggest difficulty we encounter, we’re in for a good trip.

Photo: While he could use a shave and a haircut, Taylor is not a terrorist.

May or May Not

Photo: Taylor and his girlfriend, Krissy, sing "Without You" for the Gala.

May is the month when we Americans in Abu Dhabi try to figure out when Mother’s Day in the U.S. falls. You really don't realize how dependent you are on mother's day ad reminders until there aren't any.

May also a busy time socially as everyone tries to cram in one last event before most people leave to wait out the summer someplace substantially cooler.

As we are from Phoenix, I will be going someplace only marginally cooler. This is sort of the equivalent of going out of the fire and into the frying pan.

This weekend is the American Business Group’s Cinco de Mayo party. It really should be called an Once de Mayo party as it is on May 11. Holiday dates are kind of flexible here. Their Fourth of July party will be held in June.

But the highlight of the May social season for me was the American Community School’s Gala for Giving. This fundraiser offered the usual Middle Eastern buffet but was followed by a student variety show starring our very own Taylor Perkins.

Taylor and a select group of theater and music students performed a selection of Broadway show tunes from The Producers, Wicked, Chicago as well as a medley from Rent.

Despite a really horrible sound system, Taylor shined. He has a great singing voice and has been voted "Most Likely to Win a Grammy" at his high school.

I will be missing the other important May event which is Alec’s graduation (did I mention summa cum laude?) from ASU. It's in Tempe which is more than 60 hours of travel time roundtrip. That's kind of tough for a weekend.

So May 10, I may physically be in Abu Dhabi at the American Women’s Network Final Fling, but my heart will be in Tempe.

Photo above: Taylor leads the cast in singing a medley from "Rent."

Photo right: Taylor in a love triangle in "Cell Block Tango."

I Weigh In

The U.A.E. is outstanding in another area: diabetes. They currently rank second in world per capita for this disease and are on track to be number one soon. This may have something to do with the fact that more than a THIRD (37% to be exact) of their people are obese.

But this applies only to the Emiratis. The foreigners living here in huge numbers: the Pakistani and Bangladeshi construction laborers, the Philipino hotel workers, the Sri Lanka cleaners aren’t overweight. (Manual labor 10 hours a day, six days a week does help keep one in shape.)

And obesity is not an issue among the small number of Western expats here either. It’s part of our culture to spend our leisure hours at tennis courts, golf courses, the gym and the pool.

I am currently at my “ideal” weight, but it’s hardly ideal. This number represents a compromise between my body which could stand to lose a few more pounds and my face which at my age benefits from plumpness.

I let membership at the Lazy Ladies’ gym expire and have joined Larry at the new World Gym across the street. We are pumping iron, drinking protein shakes and measuring our muscle mass. But don’t worry. We’re never going to reach the point where we’ll be oiling up our bodies and posing on stage in tiny bathing suits. But if only the strong survive, we want to qualify.