May 2014

It starts every year. It starts slowly you see.

The Expat Exodus is an annual event — and it’s free. It’s either free for the taking or a small charge that is nominal, there’s so much to choose from its almost farcical.

First people start with their boats, their cars and then move on to their bicycles. They snatch their kid’s toys and all unnecessary obstacles. As the weeks roll on they are selling blankets and breast pumps, clothes and shoes. Next comes hair dryers, air fryers, and everything else they can afford to lose.

The fishing equipment they’ve used once is gone. And so is the ping pong table made in Saigon. The potted plants will be snatched up so quickly you’d think it was cannabis or something else as addictive.

They barter and shove “Next please!” they shout. I must. I must — have that ugly couch!

They line up for miles to pick through the debris, of a once glamorous life like you see on TV. The sailboats, the yachts, the bubbly brunches and more; have been carefully chronicled on Facebook galore.

They came to this oil country dollar signs in their eyes, they bought Tiffany, Louis, Cavelli and Valentino. “Is there gold on my lip?” they ask with a smile. No worries mate, it’s only my joe. Let me lick my lips and wash down with prosecco.

Oh, don’t we wish the good times could go on forever. Yaallah — be a dear and go get the driver. The housemaid will carry the suitcases to the car. As they mentally prepare to go back to their flat in drab cold London, or boring St. Pat.

How do we go on without rose colored glasses, around the clock helpers, and dirt cheap gasses? Not to mention the around-the-world trips, the absence of jerks and all the other many, many, perks.

For years, the stories they will tell of their time in the desert and the land of the surreal – gold plated cars and tigers on leashes — champagne, cavier and aqua colored beaches.

Good bye UAE. We will miss you it’s true. But maybe now we can be a big fish too. We are not Sheiks, Sheikas, or live in ginormous palaces, but the children of countries just as rich in heritage, and history, with families who love us.

Khalas — we are finished! Shukran, we say. Thank you, thank you UAE for allowing us to stay.

pic by Brooke Laundry

There’s more than a few things that make living in the UAE enjoyable but many times it is the little stuff that really counts. Here’s the two best examples I can provide. A clean bathroom and a peep free toilet.

In Abu Dhabi, the facilities are super clean because there is always someone cleaning up after you. It makes one lazy actually; or if you prefer to look at it in another way, free to do what we chose instead of what we need to do. Not long ago I sat in a German food court just waiting for someone to pick up my tray. I was paralyzed by the conundrum ‘should I pick up this tray or should they?’ When you first arrive in the UAE it’s a common thought. Not sure who does what. And then you finally blend into the lifestyle and realize that you don’t really do any of that kind of stuff anymore. It took a good 5 minutes of sitting in the German food court before I realized that nobody was picking up my tray but me.

In the Middle East privacy is a super big thing. And for this reason, I am finally able to enjoy a peep free pee. I have no idea why this isn’t possible in the United States, land of so many freedoms which obviously do not include peep free pees, but many other things that mean absolutely nothing to me such as carrying a machine gun into a Starbucks. I don’t really want or ask for those things, I simply have always wanted a peep free toilet stall and I have finally found it. A stall that is sealed. No eyes gazing from the vanity mirror, no child peeking in looking for their mommy, no stall troller looking for an empty throne. Just me peeing free of peeps. Awww!