humor – Page 4

In the Beginning

May 1, 2013September 24, 2013 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

To my friends at home, living at the Westin for three months may seem like an extremely opulent life but in reality, it was three people squeezed into a junior suite with undies hanging off the furniture and cooking ramen noodles in the bathroom. Trust me — nothing is ever as it seems. Yes, Tiger plays on the Westin’s golf course and there are Rolls Royces in the parking lot but by the second week of living at the Westin I would have walked barefoot through the scorching heat to eat a burrito or anything remotely American — from America, because as I discovered the ONLY American franchise here that tastes as it should is Subway and at the time, I hadn’t discovered it yet. Eventually I weeded through all the weird and funky stuff such as KFC (they serve odd pieces of the bird that I didn’t even know existed — second thought, is it a bird? And what really ticked me off is a hamburger bun in lieu of a biscuit), Dominos is just awful, Pizza Hut serves ketchup with the pizza, Hardees has odd combinations that no true American would be caught dead putting in their mouth, and then there is Subway. Thank GOD for Subway. Jared should definitely make a visit to the Middle East. If it weren’t for Subway and croissants I would have starved to death because my other choices were whole baby lambs or camels on a platter. Yes, I know you are saying, Go out and explore the culture! Savor the experience. But honestly, when your entire life has been turned upside down and everything is new and different. It is difficult. I really needed a familiar place to retreat and I couldn’t find it anywhere.

Welcome luncheon at my Hubby's office — Welcome luncheon at my Hubby’s office

Thank goodness school for Mini started without a hitch. Life for an expat kid is totally different. In the States we strive for consistency and stability, but as an expat those things do not exist. One year you may be in the UAE and the next you are in Singapore. The kids here learn to roll with the changes. So for Mini, walking into class the first day may have been a little uncomfortable but the discomfort was gone in the first 15 minutes because they are all “the new kids” in the class. Although half of his class are Americans, very few have ever lived there, several were born in the USA to foreign parents, and the remainder are either from other parts of the world or they are local Arabs. Which means the mish-mosh of parents at the school is also an interesting combination. Many stick to their own cliques due to language and cultural barriers, some are depressed and stick to themselves because moving to a foreign country isn’t the easiest thing to do, and the others, like myself, throw themselves into the school like it is a full time job. In the beginning it starts out as an information seeking mission. Some companies have very good HR departments that make the relocation a breeze, others leave the new expats to fend for themselves. So school becomes the place for water cooler discussion. Where do I find this? How do I do that? How long does this take? How much does that cost? The top topics for housewives (and househusbands) are as follows:

1. housemaids

2. Etisalat (cable TV, internet etc)

3. curtains

4. driving

5. grocery stores

All of these things can, and probably will be, separate postings because they take up an enormous amount of time for an expat. The first thing that you need to understand is the culture here in the UAE because it is a service driven country. There is someone to do almost everything for you. This is primarily due to the culture and the religion of the Middle East. Due to the religion, there are separate waiting rooms, spas, gyms, nurses etc. The sexes do not commingle. So there needs to be enough men and women to fill these roles. There also needs to be drivers because many women do not drive, prefer not to drive, are crappy drivers, or have drivers to run their errands. Many of these service people come from very poor countries such as the Philippines, India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and different regions of Africa. They work for peanuts, are illiterate, and usually do not speak English very well or not at all. They are normally very friendly and willing to help with most anything. Security guards at the mall become impromptu babysitters because if they weren’t some little kid would accidentally jump off the third floor balcony and all hell would break loose (behavior of children and parental guidance is also an entire blog post — it’s not all what we are used to in the States). Grocery baggers carry your groceries to the car but along the way if you decide to stop at another store for half and hour or so they will stand and wait on you until you finish. But the weirdest thing of all is getting used to being called Madam and/or Sir by everyone you meet. This is definitely a class society. Everyone knows it. And whether you agree with it or not, it is what it is. You can either take a stand and not hire help or make someone’s life easier by giving them a job and providing food for their entire family back home — plus make your life a little easier in the process. For example, as I type this blog post this is what Nandika is doing in my yard. And, just to clarify, I did not ask her to do this she just decided to do because she is bored and likes working here. She doesn’t sweep my leaves everyday. Yesterday during her lunch break she watched Sri Lankan telenovela on her computer. 🙂

My housemaid sweeping my dirt in my unfinished landscaping

My housemaid sweeping leaves on my artificial turf

More on the girls of The PTA, outrageous housemaids, pricey and ugly curtains, erratic/deadly driving and the never-ending search for an all-inclusive grocery store in the next posting.

The Election

April 24, 2013September 24, 2013 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

It was a big day. It was election day for the Abu Dhabi PTA. Yes, six months prior I had spent months in political leadership courses and had recently thrown my name into the race for Arizona State House of Representatives but then the Smokers House fell apart and with it went my residency requirement and then everything went to pot super quickly. Funny how life changes sometimes with the blink of an eye because six months later I found myself in the Middle East, in the UAE, in an American school, running for the PTA’s volunteer coordinator. Weird.

Yes, I know. As Americans, when we say PTA the first thing that comes to mind is Jeannie C. Riley and the Harper Valley hypocrites. But instead, I found myself in a room packed with extraordinarily qualified people displaced from their home countries with absolutely nothing to occupy their time so they wanted to shove all of their energies into the PTA. There where lawyers, MBAs, teachers, life coaches, fungi shui specialist, doctors, nurses, architects, and yes — a few of them were wearing their dresses way too high. Some of them spoke several languages besides English, some of them spoke no English at all. There were the corporate types, the indulgent housewife types, the absolutely clueless types, the gym moms, the soccer moms, and then me, a disqualified political candidate and social change advocate — and damn it, I was going to win this freaking election!

I found out shortly before the election that I was running against an incumbent — the absolutely worst scenerio for me. Here we were, most of us in the UAE for the first time, feeling completely and utterly lost, and I was running against someone who had the answers to the questions on the minds of everyone in the room. Such as, where do I find Charmin toilet paper? A gas station? And Miracle Whip? I prepared a strategy which usually works for me. In a pinch crack a joke. Yes, absolutely, this is what I will do. And then it dawned on me. How exactly do I amuse a Korean? I’ve never gotten the punchline to a Korean joke — have you?

I looked around the room while the candidates prepared to introduce themselves. The chairwoman was speaking. She was a super thin South African lady around mid-30’s. She had a tattoo around her arm which gave me the impression that she liked to drink cocktails. She also wore clothes that look a little like a European Grateful Dead follower. Although, her accent was very no-nonsense. It was kind of something left over from the British rule infused with a German precision. She spoke distinctly, no-nonsense, but with perfect mannerism. She made me a little nervous, because as an American my manners are sometimes terrible. Next, she introduced the marketing and design executive. At first, I was surprised that the Abu Dhabi police hadn’t arrested this woman already. Her shoulders were showing. Her cleavage was showing. And she was wearing heels that almost doubled her height. She looked like a Lebanese Kardashian. Every move was a pose as though the paparazzi were following her. Her hair shined. Her make-up was flawless. And I was getting the feeling that it must be tattooed on. She moved with an air as though the PTA is a throne and she is the heir. I thought to myself, I don’t know if I like her. The jury was definitely still out on this one.

The first candidate announced was an Italian lady. She spoke 5 or 6 different languages and had a super nice demeanor. I liked her. Who else can speak that many languages? I voted for her. The next candidate was a Liberian who was raised in the USA. She was super cute and poised. Had adorable little braids in her hair and cute shoes and earrings. She had my vote too. And then there was me. What the hell do I say? Crack a joke? No. Nobody will get it. I’m thinking, tell them I went to school in Boston. I’ve heard all foreigners know Boston. Tell them I moved from the desert so they’ll know I don’t crack under the heat. Tell them I need this crazy little job because without it I will go stir crazy and drive my family nuts with my hyperactive mind. I will stress my husband out and his work will suffer and he will be fired and we will have to move back to the States and I’ll have to ship my dogs and my furniture back across the Pacific Ocean and that costs a lot of money and I will be stuck in front of a computer trying to amuse myself and I will gain an enormous amount of weight and I will need to join the Biggest Loser. No, first I will need to start the Biggest Loser Middle East series and then I can join. Okay, just say it. Just spit it out. Say something. Say anything. Half the people here have no idea what the hell you are saying anyway. Just say something!

Hello, my name is Gina. I moved here from the USA two months ago with my husband and our little boy who is in third grade. In the States, I created a non-profit that uses incentives and social media to encourage the use of strong thinking skills in the college population. I have a Masters from the University of Massachusetts Boston in Critical and Creative Thinking. I also teach social change, innovation and entrepreneurship in adult workshops. I am a social media junkie so as volunteer coordinator you cannot hide from me. I will Google you, I will Tweet you, I will Facebook you, I will Link-You-In. When the school needs volunteers, I promise you that somehow, some way, I will find you. And although I was half serious when I said this, they LAUGHED! Somehow I managed to make the Koreans and all the other people from all the other corners of the world who probably only understood half of what I just said LAUGH!

Whew! So glad that is over. But unfortunately, I lost the election to the incumbent by two votes.

The Abaya Swimsuit

March 25, 2013October 7, 2014 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

The second plane ride to Abu Dhabi didn’t seem as glamorous as the first. Not that anything had changed, I was just in a different state of mind. We arrived during the tail end of Ramadan which means that since Muslims fast from dawn until dusk all of the restaurants were wrapped in white paper or somehow blocked from public view. The city was extremely quiet in a weird and eerie way and this time I got the message loud and clear that we were in a Muslim country.

We called the Westin Resort home for almost three months until we found our own villa. Many would consider this paradise but due to the swarms of people at the weekly Friday brunch the pool never felt pee free. Although the hospital picked up the tab for our extended stay, we were left to scrounge the city for our own meals due to the high price of resort food. We started venturing out to find something, anything, remotely recognizable to ease our way into foreign food consumption but the first few days were difficult due to Ramadan. On the third day, Ramadan was over and Eid al-Fitr, the official fast breaking holiday, began. Imagine if Christmas shopping wasn’t permitted until three days prior and then someone opened up the mall doors. It was a huge tidal wave of people that poured into the shopping center and the shoppers ran like they were on fire. It was our first experience mingling with the world’s greatest shoppers and the entire experience made me feel a little dizzy.

Since my hubby had a few days off for the Eid we decided to go to Dubai for the weekend and stay at the Atlantis hotel. The Atlantis is built on the very end of the Palm Dubai and has one of the most awesome water parks in the world. The place was packed elbow to elbow with thousands of our closest Muslim friends enjoying their holiday. And this would be my official introduction to the ever stylish Muslim swimsuit; the Burkini. God bless the person who invented these things because it allows these ladies to take a much needed break from the desert heat. But, I must say, it is very odd to see two women standing together and one is in a Muslim swimsuit and the other is in a skimpy bikini. It is also odd to see the teenage girls in the pink one-piece version of the burkini which is constructed of some thin, clingy material that tends to ride up into every orifice in their body creating the illusion of nudity which is a very far cry from their innocent intentions. Another odd sight was a couple with matching t-shirts. His read “I’m Old Faithful” and her’s read “I Sleep with Old Faithful.” Definitely not something I imagined seeing on a Muslim couple at a family water park. Just goes to show you that things are not always as we believe them to be because before moving to the Middle East I thought my bare knees would be highly offensive but nobody here really gives a hoot except for maybe a few cranky old traditionalist. I was relieved to see everyone enjoying themselves in the miss-mosh of culture at the Atlantis water park.

My Life. My Mom Jeans.

March 21, 2013October 7, 2014 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

Ever look at yourself in the mirror and think I seriously suck? Somehow I went to sleep when I was 42 and woke up in mom jeans. I used to be smoking hot. Just ask me and I will tell you — seriously smoking! And then I got married later in life, quit smoking, had a child, got a Masters degree and here I stand in front of the mirror of life contemplating whether to move to a Muslim country. Isn’t that what everyone decides to do when they do a self inventory and realize they look like Mrs. Brady muffin-topping in a polyester pantsuit? So what do I have to lose if I pack up and move to the Middle East? It’s not like I have a lot of friends in Arizona that I can’t bear to live without. I started three new companies but the recession put an end to anything new and innovative. My husband’s job hasn’t been secure in over two years. Why not just throw caution to the wind and pack my Mrs. Brady clothes and move to the home of the abaya?

Two weeks after returning home to the USA the job offer came in from Abu Dhabi. They wanted my husband to help manage a hospital outside of Abu Dhabi. I reflected on the crack house like villa that the helpful Abu Dhabi Realtor showed us, the beautiful school that Mini would attend, and all of the travel we could do while on the other side of the world. It is a hop and skip to so many beautiful and exotic places. And the best thing of all, I really don’t like Arabic food, so I could easily lose 20 pounds in the first month. Yes, I do believe it is wise to base my husband’s career choices on my opportunity to lose weight quickly and effortlessly. No more fish tacos and margaritas from Blanco tempting me. No more pizzas from Grimaldi’s. No more Chinese food from the Chinese Cultural Center. All things awesome and delicious will be gone. Wow! What an awesome mental purge.

And with a quick signature it was done. The work contract was signed and delivered. Now all that was left was the hard work. Sorting through four storage units filled with the remnants of our life. What do you pack to go to a Middle Eastern country? I sorted, I donated, I pitched, and I sold. Four yard sales and four weeks later I had successfully pared down my life into one storage unit and one small overseas shipping container. This is what I brought with me:

Mattress/Headboard – a bad nights sleep can ruin your life
Dining Room Table – love it
Two Couches – new Pottery Barn sectional
Computers
File Cabinet
2 Book shelves
Hubby’s Desk
Electric keyboard

Passports, visas, attestation, all is done. We are down to the final details of the move. The dogs are with a private dog sitter for three months until we find a villa. And Juanita, our nanny, is wrapping up our loose ends after we leave. Really, all things considered, moving overseas isn’t that difficult to do. At some point adrenalin kicks in and you reach the point where you don’t give a smack anymore and you say screw it and jump in with both feet first. Then you tell yourself, this isn’t going to be the worst thing that will ever happen to me. And if I am lucky, it could be one of the best.

A Buffet of Life

March 18, 2013September 24, 2013 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

Abu Dhabi is home to the buffet. There are buffets everywhere and they are a regular pass time for both expats and nationals (the word National is defined as anyone from the UAE). Expats here in the UAE live a hotel life. Most restaurants, although there are a few exceptions, do not serve alcohol so we are forced to drink our booze at hotels. The fancy and over-the-top buffets at the hotels offer three options: 1. food only 2. food and drinks 3. food, drinks, and bubbly. Many have bands, chocolate fountains, oysters, lobster, sushi, and an enormous array of calorie laden desserts (more on this later). They are as beautiful as they are tasty.

But the hotel that the company put us up at during the interview process doesn’t have a chocolate fountain or even a band; it’s quite boring really except for the steady stream of people who support my never-ending habit of people watching. It’s a buffet of people. People from all over the world. Some are smartly dressed, others are mismatched, attractive, rich looking, poor looking, and then in walks what appears to be an American couple. So of course, I ease drop on their conversation and as it turns out they are from Arizona too. And they are interviewing with the same company as my husband. What a coincidence. By the end of the brunch we are all making plans for the joint yard sale we are going to throw in Arizona when we decide to move over. The family reminds me of the Partridge Family. There are several members of the family and they all play musical instruments. As I’ve gotten to know them better they will actually bust out in song at the drop of a hat. The kids are hippy intellects who wear flea market clothes and travel the world staying with people they don’t know. I learn that they lived in both Pakistan and Afghanistan. The mother is English and was raised in the Middle East because her father, a psychiatrist, packed the family up and moved to provide counseling to abused women. And as an adult, she and her husband followed tradition and packed up the family and moved to Afghanistan where he provided medical care to Afghanis. They decided to move when taking an armed bus to the hospital seemed a little extreme. I am told she speaks really bad Urdu. Which, I must admit, is better than anything I could produce.

So what kind of people pack up and move to the Middle East? You would be surprised. So far I have met the Partridge Family, a few other well paid executives, and country hopping teachers. I feel like I have been introduced to a group of people that I did not know existed: the nomadic, countryless people. It is really difficult to classify these people. They are kind of from here but they’re really from there. Their accent is from here but they’ve lived primarily there. It’s odd to meet a Texan from Thailand or a New Yorker from Liberia. I meet a farmer from Tennessee who sold his cattle, auctioned his house and moved to Saudi Arabia in the 1970’s — that takes some serious kahunas. Seriously, who does that kind of thing? This being my first expat experience the idea at first seemed a little crazy to me but as I get to know these people it seems less crazy and more normal. Maybe the folks sitting at home in their recliners are the crazy ones?

On the last day of the trip we took a tour of rental villas with a real estate agent. The young guy showed up looking as though he was a leftover from last night’s party and he must have showed us four of the worst looking homes Abu Dhabi has to offer. Compared to our previous homes in the States, and these attractive villas above, these villas looked like squatters tents or foreclosed properties. Real estate practice in Abu Dhabi is different because the homes are not cleaned until someone leases them so the villas we looked at were disgusting. The lawns were overgrown with weeds, the pools were full of green slime, windows were completely missing and birds were flying in. Our first impression was not only no — but hell no! Why would we leave the comforts of everything we have worked so hard for in order to move into this mess? My husband, being far more diplomatic and courteous than me, tried to explain to the Realtor that this isn’t quite what we had in mind. Me, on the other hand, wanted to slap him for wasting our time. I gave him a serious what the hell is wrong with you look and we returned to our hotel with our excitement squashed and a sad feeling of uncertainty.

Immigrants and Bill

March 17, 2013September 24, 2013 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

My first full day in the UAE (United Arab Emirates) and I am all alone in the hotel. The most important task for me during this trip is to locate a potential school for Mini Max. This means that I have to leave the safety of my hotel room (remember in my head I am still envisioning that this place is the wild, wild Middle East) and wander out into the masses of immigrants – and there are thousands of immigrants. Of the two million or so people who live in Abu Dhabi only 25% are Emiratis. It takes an enormous amount of immigrants to build and sustain this city. The city is packed with low-income, uneducated workers and these people typically roam around keeping quietly to themselves because it ‘s probably their first time out of their home country and they don’t speak the language. Most of the immigrants are from India, the Philippines, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka and some (not many) are from different regions of Africa. At first they are a little frightening because as Americans we are not used to seeing people from areas that are so poor and so under-developed. At first, they appeared barbaric but eventually I got used to seeing them and realized that I have nothing to worry about because the crime rate here is very low and the place is extremely safe. (Bicycle pic below shows my compound in the background).

Workers_Khalifa_A-Abu_Dhabi

The hotel arranged a driver to take me to my appointment for a tour of the school we would consider enrolling Mini in if we moved to the UAE. All expat children attend private school because the public schools are for Muslims only. There are schools with different curriculums from different countries, and I am on my way to a new school that was recently opened, and the ribbon cut, by none other than President Clinton. The school is, by no stretch of the imagination, the most beautiful school I have ever seen. It has a 3D planetarium, indoor swimming pools/gym, astroturf soccer fields, tennis courts, a black box theater, a production studio, Apple sound/video labs, dance studios, science labs etc. I could go on and on…but I think you get the picture. I finished the tour and had one thing to say, “SOLD!” If we move here this will be Mini’s school.

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My First Arab

March 14, 2013September 24, 2013 by gina dillon, posted in Misc.

Part of the interview trip for the super important governmental company that my hubby interviewed for included a dinner with some very important people. This included an Arab who sat across from me at the dinner table. This was the closest I had ever been to someone in a dishdasha, the Arab men’s national dress, and I found it intriguing. It was truly difficult not to stare and I found myself having flashbacks of George Bush holding hands with the Arab on the White House lawn. Of course, people are people and it’s not truly accurate to stereotype, but I have found Arabs tend to be very soft spoken, quiet and extremely polite. I could envision myself holding hands with this man on the White House lawn. Why not? And I must say, some of these guys are extremely handsome. And it doesn’t hurt that they drive Ferraris.

Arabs in Dishdasha

Handsome Emirati Man

Arabs in Dishdasha

Handsome Emirati Man

So I am sitting across from the super important Arab man and he says to me, “This is your first time in Abu Dhabi?” And I reply, ‘Yes it is.’ And he says to me, I kid you not, “Have you seen the Sex in the City movie?” And I responded ‘Yes, I have. And it was horrible but I loved the scenery.’ He laughed. I laughed. And we didn’t say another word to each other all night because he got up several times to talk on the phone. This is the odd thing that I have noticed about the Arabs, they are ALWAYS on the phone. Quietly talking to someone about something. That’s why I chose the picture of this handsome man above because it is perfectly accurate.