Three Weeks of Fatherhood

Life always takes twists and turns.  Some of those twist and turns aren’t welcome, some are surprising, some have no effect at all on us, and some change us profoundly.  Who can argue that parenthood is one of life’s most dramatic curves?  Jenia and I are changing.  We’re having to become kinder, more self-sacrificing people than we were before.  We have to serve our son, for the time being, as his very life depends on our ability to look after him well.  It’s tiring.  It’s time-consuming.  And it’s wonderful.

I’ll let Jenia write a post about our experience in the birthing suite of the hospital here in Al Ain.  Suffice it to say, for now, that everything went well and we welcomed a healthy baby into the world.  What a feeling that was!  No father has ever tried to describe to me what it’s like seeing his child emerge into the world after hours of his wife struggling in labor.  I’m glad that no one did, either, because there are simply no words that can describe the experience or the emotions that go with it.  I’m tempted to write about what I felt–the rollercoaster of agony and ecstasy that ends in pure joy and love–in depth.  I could fill lengthy paragraphs with my heartfelt gushing.  And yet, if I did that, then I’d fail, I’m sure, to capture what is most important about it.  There are some things that a person must live to fully understand, and this is one of them.  To sum up, one word returns to my mind over and over–amazing.

The last three weeks have seen us changing, as I said.  We are being stretched and forced to grow in new ways.  Here are some impressions and anecdotes:

1) Sleep is precious.  On my way to class last week, I stopped to chat with a fellow teacher.  He paused, mid-sentence, and exclaimed, “Dude, you look f***in’ exhausted!”  Evidently having a newborn does that to people.  Who knew?

2) Food is special.  I don’t mean any old food.  I mean the sort of food that people have brought to us so that we haven’t had to worry about cooking dinners.  What a blessing it has been to have that kind of love shown to us.  We’ve been able to spend more time enjoying (or coping, depending on the day and our level of sleep deprived-ness) having a child and less time in the kitchen.  That’s really something.

3) Expat friends are like family.  Andrea (whose blog is mentioned in the “blogs we read” section) brought us toothbrushes when we forgot to take them with us to the hospital.  Other dear friends brought us numerous gifts and, most important of all, their presence, congratulations, and encouragement.  We’re totally blessed.

4) Emiratis love, no, that’s not strong enough; they loooove, no, that still doesn’t capture it; they L-O-V-E infants.  When we got the kiddo’s birth certificate (interestingly, the hospital doesn’t provide that to you here; you have to take the certificate of live birth you’re provided and head over to the Health Authority to get an official certificate with the baby’s name and so forth printed–that’ll set you back 100AED if you get one in Arabic and one in English) the ladies there were just gushing over the little one.  When I offered to let one lady hold him, she was thrilled, and she posed for pictures holding him–her coworkers swished around the desk to aim their Blackberries and snap away–and they kept saying, “Mashallah, mashallah!”

5) Being peed on really isn’t so bad.  That’s enough about that, right?

6) Baby passport photos.  Yup.  Not super easy, but necessary.

7) Baby passport.  Not that hard, but it does require the aforementioned photo, and it’s required for doing any traveling outside of the country, which we definitely plan on.  When we applied for el nino’s passport, we left a couple of fields on the form blank: hair color and height.  I guess we could have penciled in, “Not sure yet and 20 inches, last time we checked,” but we didn’t.  I asked the woman at the Embassy about this.  She chuckled and said, “It’s okay.  Don’t worry.  It will be ready in four weeks.”

8) Baby voice.  It can’t be helped.  Sometimes I notice that I’m using baby voice.  I’m cooing and being silly and sounding like the most ridiculous man since, well, maybe ever.  And I don’t care.  It’s fun!

 

 

Should I Learn Arabic? Thursday List.

ADEC has a sales pitch for prospective teachers.  It’s effective: housing is provided, insurance is good, pay is pretty high.  They’ll tell you need that you should have some experience teaching, you should perhaps (or actually definitely, emphatically) be prepared to deal with some classroom discipline issues, and you have no need to speak Arabic.  You are, of course, also tempted by the exotic location and interesting sights.  This sales pitch is all true–you’ll have a nifty life here if you sign up.  They might mention in the interview that you should be flexible, too.  That’s the truth.  Living in a different culture is exciting, but it’s taxing, too, as you try to learn what is considered normal, abnormal, and basically try to adapt to a dramatically different way of doing things.

In fact, what ADEC tells you is entirely correct.  All of the things are true.  There’s much to commend the UAE to visitors and an ADEC job to expatriate workers.  English teachers will have good pay and benefits, and if they’re adaptable, they’ll learn how to work in the classroom here. The job doesn’t require them to speak Arabic either.  But, there is a difference between being required to speak the language and whether or not you ought to.

Today I substituted for a fellow English teacher.  I decided to practice conversational English skills with his students by talking to them.  I asked one boy about his rowdy classmates, and asked them why they behaved so badly.  He told me, more or less, “With Arabic teacher, it is Arabic and Arabic.”  He gestured with his hands, putting them side by side.  “But with English, it is English and Arabic.”  He moved one hand away from the other one at an angle.  He was saying, basically, that the kids don’t understand English well enough to get much out of having a teacher who only speaks English.  And after nearly a year here, I’ve got to agree with him.  After all, many of these young men speak only the most basic English.  The idea is that this will change as the New School Model comes of age, but that day is not going to happen for years yet.

What little Arabic I know I’ve picked up from my students and a few other people.  You ought to see the expressions these kids get on their faces when I use a new Arabic word or phrase.  They’re thrilled.  Their level of interest in what I’m doing increases dramatically, and they like interacting with me.  As a result, If I could recommend any one thing to a person considering teaching in the UAE, it would be to learn as much Arabic as possible.  The more you know, the more effective you’ll be in the classroom.  When it comes to learning Arabic, you might very well be put off to learn that there are many different dialects based on location.  When I found out that Emiratis use a rather different version of the language than most other countries, I allowed it to discourage me from learning much beyond “Asalaam aleykum” before I came.  Now it’s definitely true that the kids here speak a language that incorporates a lot of slang and words from Hindi and Urdu, but they know and understand standard Arabic.

So the question is, “Should I learn Arabic?”  The answer is, “Definitely.  Yes.”  With only a month or so left of the school year, I’m now setting out to actively try to learn more words and phrases.  Next year I may just find myself a tutor and start really trying to learn how to speak conversationally.

As I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve also considered other reasons why it’s worth pursuing the acquisition of Arabic. Here’s a list:

1. It engages students.

2. It’s nice to know when students are calling you bad names or saying bad words, just so that you can respond somewhat appropriately (“What did you say?  Let’s go talk to the social worker about that, shall we?  Or do you want me to call your father?”) and scare your kids into better behavior.

3. It is a challenge–a fun one, if you feel inclined to learn a non-romance language.

3. It can only help you in situations outside of school when you interact with others, such as parents or people in important positions.

4. Learning a foreign language while you are teaching English as a second language gives you a much better measure of sympathy and understanding as to what your students are going through.

Al Ain’s Old Souk

Al Ain is a city of texture. Some areas are quite polished and upscale. Other areas are anything but. There are buildings that are literally palatial, and others which make a bomb shelter look comfortable and inviting. On the outskirts of town you will find shanties housing those willing to subsist on the meagerest of wages.  Al Jimi Mall is the place to go if you feel like watching the locals cruise about in their Rolls Royces, tarted up Bentleys and Ranger Rovers, AMG Mercedes’, or the rather less common Ferraris or Lamborghinis.  By contrast, in the town center, not so far away, there are Pakistani workers, entirely carless, squatting on their haunches.

And in the very center, in a series of garage-like structures nigh to the bus station, there lies an amazing market known as the “Old Souk.” For years, the souk has functioned as a place that vendors can come to sell their wares free of any charge. Those who are selling come from a variety of locations, and sell all sorts of things. They have certain areas they usually set up in, and most of the shops, with some exceptions, look more or less permanent. There is a new souk established outside of town, behind the nicest of Al Ain’s malls, but an attempt to move things out there failed, and the sellers were soon back in their traditional place in the middle of the town center. Fridays are the best day to visit, for that is when things are busiest.  Much of the souk is indoors, or semi-indoors, but there is also quite a bit outdoors.

The Old Souk, here made a bit more vivid with a snappy filter courtesy of that funky smartphone app known as instagram.

One building houses the vegetable and meat market.  Seeking some good flat cabbage?  Or maybe a nice, succulent camel hump?  This is the place to get it.  Maybe you’d rather skip the camel and get some nice, fresh goat.  That’s readily available, as it’s a very common meat here, usually served with biryani (an Indian style rice dish).

As we approach, we encounter an Omani woman who is happy to show us her wares, which include a number of interesting items uniquely Middle Eastern.  She has come from Buraimi, just a short way off, almost every day for years. She is also pleased to allow us to take her picture, something that isn’t always to be counted on here. Jenia purchases a souvenir for herself, and one for her friend–the golden face covering that seems to be known as a “burqa” here.  The burqa is meant to accent the woman’s eyes, we are told.  Jenia decides to buy a second one to give to a friend of ours, and the woman, noticing that Jenia is with child (yes, we did this before the baby came), refuses payment (a mere 10 dirhams) for it, and insists on giving it as a gift.

If you’re looking for fresh Emirati fish, this is the place to find it. The types that are most renowned are available here: hammour, Sultan Ibrahim. They’re all freshly caught from around the Emirates. The vendors are happy to show you their catches.  If you’re trying to find a good price, you can probably get it here–but you should know what the going rate is, and it helps if you read Arabic, because most of the signs and numbers aren’t in English.  The best way to get a deal is to bargain, which is expected.  I, of course, have no idea what a reasonable price is for any seafood, but I enjoy looking at the huge number of fish, big and small, and the sellers enjoy telling us what is what.  Jenia strolls about with her camera, snapping the images you see here.

In the image above, Amro, one of the main folks involved with Al Ain Weekends, a lovely group which organizes excursions for anyone interested in learning more about the area, shows off a fish.

Despite the stern expressions these two men wear in the photographs, they are happy to explain all about the fish they are selling and let us take their pictures.

Leaving the fish souk, we pass smiling faces, families, and virtually no other westerners other than the ones we came with.  There is Yemeni honey for sale, and one of the guys selling it gets me to try some.  It’s good, but I’m not about to pay the kind of money they’re asking for it, and I don’t feel like bargaining in the first place.  The wife and I are interested in seeing the people, smelling the odors that flavor the air, and simply being a part of the bustle of the souk, a place that seems mostly left out of the rush toward hyper-modernity that Al Ain has generally embraced.  Incidentally, you’ll notice the reduction in quality of most of the pictures after this–they’re the ones I snapped with my phone.  Jenia gets all the credit for being the better photographer of the two of us.

Beautiful, characterful people enjoying the souk.

Soon, we are standing outside a shop that makes a traditional Omani sweet called halawa (spelling?).  This is basically made from sugar or corn syrup with added sugars.  It’s boiled for a long time in huge basins, being stirred the whole time.  If memory serves, the boiling/stirring must go on for at least two hours.  The sweet is rather delicious.  There are all kinds for sale, and there are buyers in and out while we are there who purchase big boxes full for parties or weddings.  We are lucky enough to be invited to the back room to watch it being made.

Boiling and stirring the sloppy goop that will become halawa.

Next, we stroll through the camel souk.  Here we see anything you might need for your camel.  If you’ve ever seen a camel wearing anything, it’s probably for sale right here.  There are blankets, muzzles, ropes, and much more.  I enjoy seeing some of the simple things for sale, like camel shampoo.  When I took the dog to the vet back in the States, I used to see horse shampoo for sale, but I’ve never seen this before.  Naturally, I whip out my trusty old iPhone and snap a photo.  Good instagram, right?

Gotta have that camel (and horse) shampoo if you have a camel (or horse).

Finally, we get to the tobacco area.  Here folks can purchase the very strong type of tobacco that is so popular and which a bunch of my students smoke in the bathrooms.  I forget the name of it, but it’s actually no longer legal to grow it in the Emirates, so this stuff we’re seeing is imported from Oman.  The guys here are also selling the slender little pipes that are used to smoke this stuff, and a number of accessories handy for this kind of addiction.  The men have the sort of faces that make great photos.

This tobacco seller has a great face, just oozing coolness.

In this post, I’m afraid I omit a lot of interesting details about the wide range of merchandise for sale in this bustling market.  There’s so much more than I can write sufficiently about.  I don’t remember what many things are called, and I forget the reasons some of the unusual items are for sale.  There’s pollen for date palms, palm fronds, harnesses of rope for climbing and trimming palm trees, saws for that purpose, dried goods, liquids of all sorts, and on and on and on.  If you’ve been to the souk, you can no doubt think of something striking that I neglect to mention here.

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

We got a sort of Christmas present when we were nominated for an award by Read Stuff With Me! If you’ve been following our blog, you know we were far from home at that time, though, and it’s taken this long for us to relax long enough to have a look at what is involved in accepting the award. The Very Inspiring Blogger Award has some rules associated with it, and I’m listing them below.

1. Thank and link back to the blogger who nominated you
2. Post the award logo to your blog
3. Tell seven things about yourself
4. Nominate 15 other very inspiring bloggers and notify them

So we’re accepting the award (finally!) with a humble note of thanks and appreciation. It’s exciting and it’s nice to know that our little blog is enjoyable for others.

First of all, We want to thank Nikita for the honor. Her blog is always interesting.  You can have a look and see for yourself:) by clicking right here: Read Stuff With Me.  Second, we’ve posted the logo above. As for the SEVEN THINGS ABOUT ME, that gets a little sketchy, since there’s two of us that share the writing duties.  But nonetheless, here we go:

• Shon is originally from the USA.
• Jenia is originally from Russia.
• Shon and Jenia both like to read and write.
• We both also like to travel and experience new places, cultures, and things (but we do prefer experiencing good things over bad ones, even if the bad ones are new).
• We enjoy people.
• We like sharing stories.
• We are almost parents.

Okay, now on to the last part of accepting the reward: naming fifteen blogs that we enjoy.  They are in no particular order, and we read them for a number of reasons.  Some feature great photography, some have interesting, humorous, or inspirational stories, some open our eyes to help us see things in a new light.  I invite you to click on them and see if they strike in some way, too.

Smalley Stories

From Atlanta to Abu Dhabi

thesevenyearscratch

ChrisContent

levantwoman

Sojourning Abroad

Dad Knows

coastal traveler

Bucket List Publications

From ojalá to insha’Allah

Across the Gypsy Flat Road

Madame Rubies

My Sunshine’s All Around

Avatarakali

Elina Ellis Illustration

And, in case you didn’t have a look at it already, check out Read Stuff With Me!  The link is above.  Now, the next step for us is to notify each of these bloggers that we’ve nominated them for the award, too.

Being Pregnant in the UAE

Before I begin the actual post, I would love to express our gratitude for all the views, likes, comments, and follows.  We feel lucky to be able to get exposure to different perspectives – and to be able to share our findings with others.  Also, we are thrilled to be featured on Freshly Pressed again. Thank you, Michelle!

Now, to the subject infinitely small from the World’s perspective, and paramount from ours.

I am 38 weeks pregnant today. For those blissfully unaware of what it means: our baby boy  (lovingly called the Blob and/or Шонович (son of Shon) until the name is revealed) can make his appearance any day now.  In reality, it’s more like any day within the next 4 weeks, but we’re hoping he won’t make us wait that long.

The Blob is our first child, so I cannot really compare being pregnant in the UAE to being pregnant anywhere else in the world.  Not from personal experience, anyway.  Still, I would like to share some things that struck me as unusual – all in a good way.

We might have mentioned before that children are viewed completely differently in this part of the world.  On one hand, it means that we’ve never seen such a high concentration of spoiled brats anywhere else.  On the other hand, it means being moved to the front of the line at the hospital or airport security checks if you have a child in tow.  It means that a stone-faced Emirati man who would not acknowledge you were you on your own, is going to melt down and coo at your baby or toddler.  It means that once you are at a bank,  restaurant, government office – you name it – there’s a good chance your baby will be patted on the cheek/kissed/passed around by the employees.  It’s not for the germaphobes and the faint of heart, but there is nothing perverted about it: little kids are adored here (and it’s a bonus if they are blonde and blue-eyed.)

You don’t get quite as much attention being pregnant, but you still get plenty.  I was surprised to see Shon’s students (high-school boys) express great interest in my pregnancy. All of his boys I met so far wanted to know how far along I was, the due date, the gender, the name – everything!  I saw plenty of teenage boys back home having great fun playing with older babies and toddlers, but pregnancy just doesn’t seem to be something they are comfortable with.  These teens, however, are used to someone in the family constantly being pregnant and having babies.  They get quite confused on finding out we’ve been married for over 5 years and this is our first child.  ”Why?” – they ask, “you should have at least 3 by now!”

One of the perks of being pregnant here is getting free stuff, and I don’t mean some kind of Publix coupons-for-babies program, I mean small businesses, mom and pop stores.  It’s always something small, but it’s a great pleasure, anyway, when you are handing over the money, and the man or woman points and your stomach and says, “No, no! Gift for baby!”  It’s mind-blowing, really.  You are a stranger in a strange land, thousands of miles away from family, and total strangers want to share your joy and bless you in some small way.

I was buying a burqa from this Omani lady, but when she saw my bulging belly, the gave the money right back to me.

Another fantastic perk is the expat community.  I could not dream of such a support network back in the US.  There is nearly a dozen families within 15 minute drive who went through the same thing no more than a year and a half ago, and who have been so generous to us in so many different ways.  Our families may be far away, but we are surely not alone here.

And I cannot write this post without mentioning the healthcare part.  Our insurance covers labor completely (they do no cover the epidural, which is 1500AED=$410.)  My doctor’s appointments cost us $8 each (I get an ultrasound nearly every time, too), and I have not paid for any lab work.  The hospital is very new and not very big.  By now, most of the receptionists and nurses at the OBGYN clinic know me.  They ask about my cross-stitching progress, comment on the size of the belly, and click their tongues at the sight of my swollen feet.  I liked all the 3 doctors I saw.  Both the midwife who teaches pre-natal classes and the director of nursing gave me their cell phone numbers and urged to call or text if I had any questions.  All of this makes it personal and much more relaxing than your general hospital experience.

So here we are, waiting for our world to change forever.  The time is right, and, as strange as it may seem to some, the place is right as well.

P.S. Won’t it make a good photo one day – the three of us holding our respective birth certificates from 3 different countries?

 

A New Vantage Point: Syria

One of the greatest aspects of traveling is the way it informs our worldview.  That idea may just be suggested by our blog’s title.  After living in the UAE for the better part of a year, I’ve made many acquaintances and built some relationships.  These allow me to see things from a different perspective.  One of these relationships is with a fellow from Syria.  He’s friendly and easy going.  He’s Christian, and he’s invited us to join him at church, and though we haven’t been able to make it happen thus far, we really want to.  How cool would it be to be at a church service conducted in Arabic?  I’ll answer my own question: pretty dang cool.  Anyway, on to the point: I’ve gained a new vantage point on a country and the conflict within it–namely, Syria.

Honestly, I generally don’t give a whole lot of attention to far-away conflicts.  It seems like there’s always something going on in Africa (which isn’t all that surprising, since it’s a gigantic place) or the Middle East.  Of course, now that I live in the Middle East, I pay closer attention.  One conflict that gets a lot of media coverage is the now two-year long civil war raging within Syria.  There’s news about it all over the place.  I see it on the websites of CNN and Fox News.  Al Jazeera offers coverage of it regularly on TV here. These news outlets all usually mention that there are rebels fighting for freedom from President Bashar al-Assad’s government.

About a month ago, the networks were abuzz because the Russians were pulling a number of their people out of the country.  The Russians being staunch allies of Syria, that was taken as a sign that Russia divined the imminent end of Syrian president Assad’s regime.  I mentioned this to my buddy, and this was the start of a conversation that would significantly impact my understanding of what is happening in his home country.

From The Atlantic, the caption for this image reads: People walk on a street lined with buildings damaged by what activists said were missiles fired by a Syrian Air Force fighter jet loyal to President Bashar al-Assad in Deir Al-Zor, on March 12, 2013. (Reuters/Muhammad Younis/Shaam News Network)

“The rebels,” he said, “They say they want freedom.  But what they want is Islamic law.  Right now,” then he stops and corrects himself, “Before, when I lived there, there was freedom.  You can practice whatever religion you choose.  If you are in a church and you say bad things about a mosque or Islam, the government will come and put chains around the door.”  He gestures, encircling imaginary door handles with chains and making a closing motion, like clasping a lock.  “Yeah, and they will do the same thing for a mosque.  You can’t talk badly about anyone else’s religion.  Our government is harsh, but they know how to deal with our people.  Because for us, religion is the main cause of wars, and our government knows it.  So you have freedom, you can be Christian or Muslim or anything.”

“This freedom,” he continues, “This freedom that they say they want, it’s not freedom.  We were free before.  Our women could go outdoors safely, they could go alone.  They didn’t need men with them.”

He gives me an example of how the rebels are freeing Syria.  His little village, which is to say his family’s ancestral home, is a peaceful place with only a small number of houses.  In the summer time the family would go there and enjoy serenity in the pastoral, olive-producing area.  The place is so small that it doesn’t even warrant a police station.  Watching the news one night, his aunt found out that the village was “liberated” by the rebels (many of whom come from out of the country, according to my friend).  “What were they freed from?”  He asks.  “There was nobody keeping them…” he searches for words and gives up, instead explaining how the news aired footage filmed by the rebels and posted on YouTube.  This footage purported to show how the village was freed.  My friend shows me the video.  It opens with a tour of a badly damaged home, a hole blasted through the roof, rebar and concrete hanging.  “That’s my aunt’s house,” he says.  The village seems entirely deserted.  Windows are broken out of all the homes, which appear to have been ransacked and pillaged.  “That’s my grandfather’s house.”  There are bullet holes riddling walls here and there, and there are craters where explosives seem to have been detonated.  The cameraman walks inside a storefront or perhaps small warehouse of some kind, all the windows smashed, glass strewn about the floor.  There’s an empty office.  “This is where they pack olives,” he explains.  I shake my head.  “Yeah, it makes no sense,” he says.

The next YouTube video is of the only two military troops present in the town, a couple of men who were posted there to protect the church.  Both of them are bloodied and lay dead on the ground.  It’s plain that the cameraman enjoys showing these poor devils.  I get the feeling they’re gloating and proud of killing the soldiers.  “They’re saying,” my friend interprets, “That they will not touch the church or anyone.”  We must assume that they mean they won’t hurt any civilians, since they’ve slain the guys guarding the building.

“Who needs their freedom?”  He says again.

I tell him about the news coverage that I see from America.  How they paint the rebels in a positive light.  “Don’t believe it,” he says.  “They tell you what they want you to think.”  He shakes his head and frowns.  “These rebels, a lot of them aren’t even from Syria.  You know, they come from somewhere else.  I don’t know where they get their weapons.  Somebody must be helping them.”  In fact, I’ve read that Saudi Arabia and Qatar are providing arms to the rebels.  But I didn’t know this when I was talking to him, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t have interjected it.

“Let me tell you about their freedom,” he says.  “Last week there was a woman killed by them.  She was Christian.  They shot her in the chest and laid her on the bed like this,” he spreads his arms out in the shape of a cross.  “They do this.”  He nods his head to emphasize his point, and says, “All the Christians are leaving Syria.  It used to be safe to live there.  Not any more.”

“On the news they will say the government forces do all these bad things, that they are the ones doing all the damage.  But they’re the ones that do it.”  He sighs and tells me more.  A friend whose brother, from Homs, hasn’t been heard from in months.  A coworker who doesn’t know where is father is.

His family has, like many people, fled their country, seeking asylum in neighboring Lebanon.

After this conversation, I notice as I read about the war that news sources like The Atlantic are guilty of feeding us biased information.  They use phrases like, “According to the rebels, this section of town was destroyed by government forces,” which subtly gives the rebels the voice of authority, and “The government claims that…” which, conversely, calls the trustworthiness of the government’s voice into question.  Here’s one example and the link to The Atlantic where it appears: A resident inspects the damages at an ancient Souk caused by what activists said was shelling by forces loyal to Syria’s President Bashar al-Assad in Deir al-Zor, on March 9, 2013. (Reuters/Khalil Ashawi) Pay attention next time you see a report on Syria and watch for any bias.

I’m not claiming, by any means, that Syria’s President Assad is a kind and loving man.  I don’t claim that his government always acts justly.  My understanding is that if you were to run afoul of Assad’s government, that could be a very bad thing.  However the same could be said of many Middle Eastern governments.  I now understand that under Assad, however, the Syrian people generally did enjoy something much more like the Western definition of freedom than I might have once thought.  I don’t pretend to know the machinations or motivations of those involved in the fighting in Syria.  I’m not saying that the government hasn’t done terrible things in the war, or trying to diminish whatever blame it may deservedly share.

What I’ve discovered, however, is that conversations with my Syrian friend have helped me to look at things in a new light, and to pay careful attention to what I accept as fact.  Seeing the war from his vantage point, it looks entirely different.

If you’re interested in reading a bit more about the war in Syria, there’s a ton of information out there.  You can find lots of videos on YouTube from various points of view.  Do be aware of who’s playing for who, though, as most news networks receive funding from some entity or other.  Often, finding out who funds what can help you figure out what that  source’s bias may be.

Authentication Revisited

Part of the deal with working here in the UAE was getting a whole slew of documents authenticated.  The authentication process is annoying and overcomplicated, but it is necessary.  So I bit the bullet and did it.

If you go through a company like Teach Away, they’ll help walk you through the process.  It’s not really all that difficult, in truth, just annoying.

Teach Away recommends ProEx Courier Service to deliver and pickup documents from the Embassy in DC.  I used them and had no issues at all; they were fast and efficient.

As far as the individual documents go that you’ll need authenticated, that depends on where you’re from and whether you’re married, have children, etc.  We needed our marriage certificate done, my highest diploma, and a couple other things.  I covered all that before, so I won’t go into it in detail.  The irritating part is doing it at three levels, which is where ProEx enters the scene–they’ll deliver documents from the Department of State in DC to the UAE Embassy there, saving you a long trip and a few days in between.

Do the authentication early so it’ll be stress-free, and then just wait.

Once arriving in the UAE, you have to get those authenticated documents translated into Arabic.  Bargain, or ask around for the best rate.  The place that ADEC uses (Infinity Services) actually increases their fee for ADEC teachers.  If you arrive in Abu Dhabi and take documents to them, be sure not to tell them you’re with ADEC.  If you do, they’ll say, “Special price!”  Yeah, special, alright.  We have “sucker” written all over us.  It shouldn’t cost more than 60 AED for documents to be interpreted, so be aware.  There are plenty of “typing offices” that will interpret for the price I mentioned.

When you get your documents interpreted in the UAE, also have your driver’s license done.  If you’ve got any special endorsements, such as motorcycle, be sure to note that and ask that they include that in the translation, or else you won’t get that endorsement on your UAE license (which is good for a full 10 years, by the way).

Thursday List: Things Russia and UAE Have in Common

Thanks to all of our readers for giving last week’s post thousands of hits!

For this week’s list, we’ve come up with a number of things that the UAE has in common with Russia.  I’ve been to Russia three times, spending weeks at each go, and the wife, of course, lived there for many years.  After the better part of a year living here in the UAE, we’ve noticed some similarities.  Let me preface this by saying none of it’s meant to be offensive.  That’s not the spirit that it’s written in.  These are just our observations.  If you disagree, feel free to say so.  Also, we’re tag-teaming the writing, so you’ll have to apply your brain power to figure out who’s the “I” sometimes, but we have a great deal of faith in your capability to use deductive reasoning.

Alright, let’s get started:

1) Fatalism.  Wow, that’s a strong word, isn’t it?  I don’t think anyone probably likes having it applied to themselves, but here I go doing it anyway.  When I first visited Russia, I was amazed by the number of people who would observe a problem and then shrug their shoulders and say, “Ah, what can I do about it.” Here in the UAE, the number of “inshallahs” a person hears everyday, especially when dealing with important paperwork, is maddening, and basically presents an extremely similar viewpoint on life.  Jenia says that there is a saying, “Avos’,” in Russian which means more or less the same thing. What can I do about anything?  Nothing!  It’s not my fault.  I have no part in this.  I make no guarantees. Maybe…. God willing…

2) Cheating.  It’s practically institutionalized here.  Kids expect it.  Teachers expect it.  The sheer lack of ability that’s applied to academic pursuits is mind-blowing.  In Russia, it is the same.  Many will probably argue, but in reality it’s not nearly as big an offense as it is in the US.  It was absolutely normal for me (Jenia here) to help my classmates with Russian/English/French and to get help from them with Trigonometry or Chemistry.  Teachers knew. We never got zeroes. Ever.

3) Crazy driving.  Picture this: you’re driving along the interstate highway, the motorway, going a little over the speed limit (i.e. 80 mph or so) in the middle lane, and a Bentley sedan zips past you so fast that your car rocks from the wind blast.  It’s followed a moment later by a BMW and an Audi.  Roundabouts are an adventure in daring and intimidation.  In Russia, traffic incidents are so common that people install dash cams in their cars to help determine who’s at fault (among other reasons).

4) Rules are made to be broken.  Or bent, or flexed, or altered, or applied selectively.  Russians hop over fences and ignore signs.  So do Emiratis.  Seatbelts aren’t usually worn.  The legal driving age is 18 in Abu Dhabi, but plenty of 16 year-olds drive themselves to school.  In both countries, the number of people carrying infants in their lap instead of in a carseat is mind-blowing (we think, it’s partly ignorance and partly the afore-mentioned “inshallah/maybe” mentality.  Need I say more?

5) A default religion.  Here people identify themselves as Muslim because that’s the culture they belong to.  I know there’s further religious reasoning behind it, but what I’m saying is that there are plenty of folks who don’t take their religion very seriously, even though they’d identify themselves as Muslim.  In Russia, the same is true, but of Orthodox Christians.  Even if they’ve never been to a church service, they’ll tick the “Orthodox” box.

6) Conformity.  Society doesn’t like individualists here.  You’re part of a group, and you have to do things the way the group wants them done.  You don’t see it to the same degree in Russia, but the old Soviet reality of punishable initiative still dwells in the minds of too many.  It is not always a bad thing, not at all.  It can be, however.

7) Attitude toward foreigners/strangers.  A friend of mine once said that Russians are like coconuts.  They’re hard on the outside, but soft and wonderful on the inside.  The same seems mostly true of Emiratis.  They’re mostly oblivious to you in public, but once you are invited into a home, you’ll find yourself in the company of kind, gracious people.  This leads us to number 8:

8) Hospitality.  When you become friends with a Russian or an Emirati, they shower you with hospitality.  You’ll find lavish meals laid out before you and people eager to share their culture with you.

9) Propaganda.  As a friend of Jenia’s mentioned recently, one can’t help wondering if the Russian government is drugging its people: reasonable individuals seem to be losing their critical thinking skills and believing in whatever the TV is pouring down on them.  In the UAE, a teacher is not allowed to talk about anything related to Islam, Judaism, or any other religion, he/she cannot use a map or a globe that has Israel and/or Persian instead of Arabian Gulf on it; both terrorist attacks and pigs are never to be mentioned.

10) Nature. Both countries have some fantastic views to offer. Yet, neither culture seems to care in the least about preservation. Littering of epic proportions is widespread.

We’ve chosen to write about things which are different from what your average American experiences back home in the USA.  Some strike us because they’re surprising, others because they’re merely unlike what we live with normally.  There are, of course, a great number of commonalities shared by each of the countries we mention, and the UAE and Russia are wonderful and interesting in their own ways.

Thursday List: You Know You’ve Been to the UAE Long Enough when…

1)   A daytrip to Dubai is just a part of the routine.

2)   So is a trip to Abu Dhabi.

3)   You no longer notice that everyone around you is wearing kandoras or abayas.

4)   You shorten your sentences and speak each word very distinctly so that the non-native English speaker you’re communicating with will (maybe) understand you.  Optionally, you leave out linking verbs and articles.

5)   You say “petrol” instead of “gasoline”, “mark” instead of “grade” and tell people your flat is on the ground floor. Oh, and “inshallah” becomes a household word.

6)   Somebody else pumps your gas, er, petrol, and you think that’s normal.

7)   You haven’t washed your car in six months because you can get someone else to do it for five bucks.

8)   You stop noticing that there’s no sales tax.

9)   When the temperature drops below 70 you think it’s really cold out.

10) Every time you go outside you meet somebody who’s neither American nor Emirati, and you’re not the least surprised.

11) You’re no longer terrified by the crazy drivers or the confusing roundabouts.

12) You see so many Porsches and fancy Mercedes that you don’t even notice them any more.

13) However, when you see a girl in shorts/skirt/dress that do not cover her knees or in a sleeveless top, you wonder what in the world she is thinking.

14) You no longer try to snap a photo of every camel truck passing by.

15) When you hear the word “date,” you think of a fruit, not an event.  You even have a favorite kind of date.

16) Truly clear, blue skies are exciting.

17) Seeing a dog is equally exciting.

18) You remember to not take or give anything with your left hand.

19) Last time you had so many friends living in the same town as you, you were in high school.

20) You are ready to pay $10 for a box of White Cheddar Cheez-Its.

It’s Getting Hot!

My family in Maine talks about snowfall bending trees over.  My friends in Georgia mention cold temperatures and even snow flurries.  In Russia it’s so cold our family members have forgotten we exist, as we’ve been frozen from their memories.

Here in Al Ain it couldn’t be any more different.  It’s getting hot again.  Yesterday it was 90F and while Jenia was doing a photo shoot in the dunes (ask her to share some of her pictures–she’s done several such shoots lately) I was wishing I wore shorts instead of jeans.  We haven’t got to run the air conditioning much yet, unless in late afternoon the apartment has gotten a little warm, so I turn it on for five or ten minutes and then shut it off again.  We don’t even need more than a single sheet on the bed now–even a light blanket is too much.

When I lived in Maine, this was about as warm as it ever got on summer days.  Now it won’t be long until we’re missing this weather, with its nice, cool evenings, and relaxing breezes.