Week 2: Finally have some "Arabic" or "Middle East" moments. . .

Dubai is by far one of the easiest places to "acclimate" to:  Everyone speaks English.  All the signs and food labels are in English, so shopping for food is a breeze.  Tons of TV channels in English.  Every type of food imaginable -- and it's really excellent!  (Everybody here has warned me that everyone gains 5 kilos (around  11 lbs.) when they come to Dubai.  Great.)  The one slightly disappointing thing my first week had been the lack of anything really "Arabian" or "Middle Eastern".  Had a GREAT  brunch by the water (eggs.)  Had fantastic pasta for lunch.  Really good sushi.  Exceptional Thai food.  And even lousy American food. (which made me feel quite at home, actually!)   But where was my fantastic "Scheherazade" moment??

As background, one of the more interesting learnings for me regarding this fascinating city was that 80% of the inhabitants are all foreigners or ex-pats.  This place is a cornucopia of races and religions (except Jews, or course!)  My team has 2 Saudis, 2 Indians (one of whom was raised in Bahrain), 2 Germans (including one of Turkish origin) a Brit, and a Somalian (who speaks fluent French and German.)  I always prided myself on my "diversity" story:  born in Japan of Korean origin, raised in Canada, living in U.S. . . I had always kind of enjoyed flinging out this "diversity" descriptor about myself, thinking it especially unique.  But here, it's nothing.  Everyone here was born somewhere else, went somewhere else to school, and is now working somewhere else.  Sigh. . . so much for feeling special.  Our office building here has around 800 people, representing some 60 different nationalities.  I thought the US was diverse.  Which it is.  But it feels different here somehow.  Everyone in the U.S. "acts" American.  Everyone here acts like their own culture.  I guess it's that "melting pot" vs. "mosaic" concept.  Here in Dubai, it's definitely a mosaic.   Today's dress-code of "business casual" or "smart casual" looks very different here: Indian colleagues in saris, many women in scarves, even a few local in Abayas (the black gown and scarf which hides half their face.) Saudi men in gowns and headpieces (kaffiyas, kanduras.)  One of my male colleagues is from Saudi, and he is quite traditional, and usually wears the full gown with headpiece to work.  I couldn't stop staring the first few days -- fascinated and enamored with the crisp beauty of this traditional wear.  And then I find out he's also obsessed with Subway sandwiches, and runs out to lunch every day to get his subway sandwich, with diet coke and with chili-flavored Lays potato chips.  (which are awesome, by the way!) I can barely stop myself from smiling at him as I see him devour his Subway sandwich -- every day--especially when he wears his beautiful, full traditional Saudi dress!  

Many of my colleagues smoke (which I used to do several years ago, and being here I am often tempted to start up again, though I haven't yet!)  Though, as one of my colleagues affectionately noted, "Betty. . . you know it's not too late start up again."  (an example of the humor and bantering that goes on regularly here.)  "Betty -- I am leaving early, but I will leave a few of my cigarettes on my desk for when you are here late at night . . . just to keep you tempted!"  I told her she's the devil and to stay away from me.  The team here is lovely and funny:  always joking and teasing each other.  But there's also a lovely under layer of tradition here too:  several of my colleagues disappear quietly throughout the day to pray.  sometimes they go to the designated women and men's prayer rooms.  But often, if they're busy, they'll just sneak into an empty conference room and do it.  And every Thursday (which is our TGIF, or perhaps here, we should name it TAIT (Thank Allah, it's Thursday!), our Saudi colleagues brings dates or sweets with a beautiful carafe of Arabic coffee that his wife dutifully sends wraps up for him to share with the team.   Every week.  It is these lovely traditional moments that remind me that I'm in a Muslim culture.

Well, this week finally got me a little closer to "Middle Eastern Food."  I'm personally a hummus lover, and was dying to have some "local" humus, but have since been corrected that this is Lebanese and NOT "local".  Apparently only the Lebanese excel in this, so I have to go to a Lebanese restaurant for good hummus. (I wasn't going to get into the fact that I think the Israelis do some decent hummus too. . . figure I'd leave that discussion for another day.)  But, I was fortunate enough to go to two Arabic restaurants this week:  One, an emirate restaurant, based in a shopping mall (p.s. anything of high-quality or expensive taste is in a shopping mall in this country) - which had beautiful square tents (because, as I've noted, everything here is square!)  The food was simple and delicious:  basically roasted meats with rice (beef, chicken, lamb and fish.  Absolutely no pork.) Ended off with some delicious, doughy deep-fried doughnuts, dipped in honey!  Delicious.   The other restaurant was a typical Saudi Restaurant -- a stand-alone restaurant, with tons of  square tents set up inside, and two entrances:  One for men.  And one for families.  With our mixed gender team, we were relegated to the family side.  Sat on the floor -- leaning on some nice pillows (I started fantasizing about having some servile young thing "fan" me with palm fronds and feed me dates. . (Note for women:  Never wear a skirt when you go to a typical Saudi restaurant -- or make sure it's a really long-ass gown! i.e. picture sitting cross-legged on a floor eating. . .!) and then the waiter came in and spread a plastic sheet on the rug. . . because we were going to eat with our hands!  (Yes!!) 

At first, I was kind of psyched about the concept of eating with my hands.  It felt like I could be "naughty" with my food and it would be totally and socially acceptable.  But, I had pictured big chunks of food that one could easily pick up with one's fingers.  Not large platters of meat with rice!!!  I had to watch my more experienced colleagues eat first:  Basically, you take a piece of meat, and then make "mounds of rice" around it and then pick up this little "rice pie" and put it in your mouth!  I tried this a couple of times, but found it difficult.  They all laughed -- and said it was no more ridiculous than trying to eat food with two long thin sticks!  (fair point.)  After a few very messy tries, I ended up being that lame person in the Chinese restaurant asking for a fork. . . .  All's fair in life.

It was a very busy work week for our team, and I asked one of my non-traditional colleagues whether we could go for. . PLEASE. . a drink!  We ended up in a nameless lounge in a hotel.  Unlike in most U.S. hotels, here you wouldn't "advertise" a booze-available rooftop or pool-side lounges or bars openly.  You just sort of find these places (in almost all big hotels.)  Being Thursday night, the bar was packed with expats.  But there were DRINKS!  Cocktails and wine.  Which were very-pricey (probably 30-40% more than back home) and the serving was watery and a little small . .  .But TOTALLY worth it.  I have also identified someone with a liquor license (you can only purchase booze, in special foreigner-only stores if you have a liquor license.)  Kind of feels like finding a "dealer" for drugs.  Note to any visitors:  Bring me a bottle of wine!

My "aha" moments (i.e. moments when I say "wow, I'm really in the Middle East"):

One of my colleagues saying:  "The best honey in the world comes from Yemen."  (Really?  Yemen?  Who knew?!) 

Another of my colleagues saying good-bye on Thursday:  "Yessss!  It's shisha night with the boys!"

(shisha is the water-pipe  (hookah) tobacco smoking that they do in a group  When I've seen it done, kind of looks like what I picture might have been an opium-den scene centuries ago.  They just kind of share this huge water pipe and talk/discuss in a strong, fruit-flavored tobacco haze. . . )

Can't wait for MY shisha night!