Christmas Cards

Christmas Cards

Holidays again!  I’m now officially on three weeks Winter Break.  Fantastic.  However, the past few weeks have been full on at work getting student data entered into Esis, which is our reporting system.

I’ve been troubled once again by an upset stomach so have had three days off work over a period of a week or so.  I used two of these days to enter my student data in between trips to the loo.  I’ve had further investigation done in the way of an abdominal scan but I think it’s just going to be par for the course while living here.  Possibly too much spicy food upsetting things?  I’ve been living on bread and bananas with a bit of white rice at times.  The Indian nurse gave me a great tip for dealing with diarrhoea - drink strong black tea with lemon.  And it seems to have worked.

I did decide to venture out with a friend on the Sunday during this time to pay a visit to a Swiss Market being held at one of the hotels here.  Quaint stalls were set up in the courtyard at the Beach Rotana Hotel, right next door to the Abu Dhabi Mall.  Another Swiss band entertained us using traditional cow bells.  By the time I get to Switzerland with the sista I'll know it all. 

These stalls were selling all things Christmassy and I purchased a set of Christmas cards to send back to a few of you in NZ.

The hotel itself has the most spectacular Christmas tree reaching about two stories high.

A gingerbread house inside the hotel was selling all sorts of Christmas goodies to eat.

The numerous restaurants all had their own Christmas trees.

Back to the cards.  Anyway I write the cards and get them all ready to send.  They then sat on the table for a few more days as I was still not feeling the best.  By Thursday I decided I could risk a visit to the Post Office to send them so off I head after work, walking over the one block.

I check out my PO Box to find a welcome package from Wellington containing some Christmas goodies (and treats if the wonderful aroma of peppermint wafting from the beautifully wrapped packages is anything to go by).  I opened two of the parcels and the teenager put together the wonderful kiwi while I hung the delightful Christmas stocking decorated with a tui and pohutakawa.  A real taste of home!

Then into the Post Office itself.  I report to the security desk and collect my number, 799.  I look up at the counters to check and see I have at least 50 people before me, and this is only for the postage counter.  This doesn’t include the other hundred or so men all sitting around waiting to be served.  I’m hoping my body will behave and I don’t have to run out in a hurry, not that there are any loos around there.

So I sit and wait.  Normally I’d have bought a book but having come straight from work I don’t have one.  So I read the info on renewing my PO Box and head back to the guard to get a ticket for doing that.  It turns out it’s at the same counter so don’t really need it but keep it anyway.

So I sit and wait and wait.  Eventually it’s my turn and I rush up with my number.  At this time the numbers are rapidly being called as no-one has the tickets so I give my second number to a man waiting.

Now I have 12 cards to post, only 12.  Four have a small gift inside.  One card is still at home as I don’t have the address and can’t find it online.  Remember I’ve had plenty of time to sort the cards while waiting so I hand over 7 cards and say, “Post to New Zealand.”  Not too difficult, one would think.  But I want 8 stamps, not 7.  So first problem.  She’s counting in Arabic and I have to keep saying 8.  8.  8.  Finally I get 8 stamps with a snake on them.  Only 5.50 AED to post today.  Last card was 11AED so you never know what it will cost. 

“Only take a week,” I’m told.  Yeah right!

So I get my 8 stamps and she comments on the snakes and smiles and laughs.  Then I confuse her by handing over the other 4 cards and saying, “New Zealand.”  So eventually she weighs them and they are 22.75AED each.  Ooohh, she says.  So expensive.  She writes down the price and then finds me some stamps.

She hands over a lovely set, like a first day cover, of birds and tells me I’ll have to cut out the seven stamps on it and stick them on.  I’m like, what?  Cut them out?  Here?  Now?  But they aren’t worth enough so she duly finds me two more stamps.  Then she gets confused and tries to give me 7 sets of these.  “No, only 4!”  Several exchanges later I have paid my 120AED and have moved over two counters to an empty one to begin the process of cutting out the wretched stamps.

Anyone would think I’d chosen to do this.  As if???

Next to me a friendly Emirate man asks where I’m from.  Then asks, Don’t you have internet in NZ?  Why not use email he says?  Good question I’m asking myself?  Why you do this, he asks?  Why indeed????  My original plan of an email Christmas card sounds pretty good about now.

Then in a random switch in conversation, which often happens here, he begins asking me about the price of NZ honey.  Our manuka honey with its medicinal properties is highly sought after here.  All this while I’m cutting stamps with a tiny pair of folding nail scissors which the clerk lent me.

                                               

You have to visualise this.  I’ve hardly eaten for a week, my stomach is unpredictable and there’s probably two hundred men behind me.  I’m wondering if I can last.  I stash my carry bag at my feet, my handbag on the counter and spread the cards out.  I’ve got 11 cards, four of which need to have stamps cut and stuck on.  So I’m spread out over this counter cutting and sticking.  I do the 7 single stamp cards first then begin on the others, one at a time so I get the right stamps on each.

In the meantime the clerk sells another unsuspecting victim the same set of stamps and requests her scissors back.  Then the clerk starts cutting the stamps for her.  I say, what?  Why I have to cut my own?  The Emirate man agrees with me.

Behind me a man, in an English voice, loudly says, 30 minutes to get a stamp.  Silently I agree with him about the ridiculous system in this country, while continuing to cut and stick.

I hand over the 7 cards and get the scissors again.  As I reach over to her counter, a man approaches me and begins, Did you know?  I think he’s going to tell me there’s an easier way to do this (now I’m half way through) and turn to him.  But no!  He’s asking me, Did you know that there’s 20 people waiting here and you’ve taken over ½ an hour to get a few stamps!

“Not my problem,” I reply.  “It is your problem,” he snaps.  Luckily for him that I’ve learned Patience and Flexibility since I’ve been here, isn’t it?  I’m surprised he didn’t ask if we don’t have internet in NZ as well.

                                               

I’m seething but unwilling to make a scene with security hovering so return to my stamps.  I’m not at a working counter and had long finished with the clerk, who was serving the man I gave my second ticket to.  He’d been at the counter as long as I’d been cutting and sticking so why wasn’t he getting an earful?  Don’t be mad at me, be mad at the system.

The crazy thing is that I agree with the guy.  I’m the one who should be mad, it’s my time that is being wasted, not his.  The whole system is ludicrous and painstakingly slow.  The 30-45 minutes I waited for my turn, a young Emirate man sat at the next door counter with a closed sign and did nothing.  No, I lie.  At one stage he threw five forms at a customer, another time he bit his fingernail, and then he was texting on his phone.  So he did do something.  And, no doubt, he’d be getting paid double or treble what I get paid.

But back to the stamps.  I continue with the process and by now I’ve got into a rhythm, finding the most economical lines for cutting.  But the real fun begins when I try to stick them all on the envelope.  Has anyone tried to put 8 or 9 stamps on an envelope while still reading the address?  No, I hadn’t either.  I thought about putting them all on the back, some on the back, covering the name, ????  I ended up by trying several arrangements and by the last one I had it sussed as to how to fit them on.

In my stressed state I never thought to take a photo before I handed them back over to the clerk for posting (now that would have really irritated that man, wouldn’t it?)  So if you are the lucky recipient of one (and you’ll know what I mean if you are) please snap a photo and send it to me and I’ll add it in here.

I've put up a few pockets of Christmas decorations to make the apartment seem cherry.  Nothing like I do at home though but just had to  have some flashing lights.

 I really wanted a wreath for the front door and a woman was making them and selling them online.  But I decided to buy a much cheaper version and add a few additional decorations myself.  Here is the finished product hanging on my front door.  I must say I'd be lost without 3M removable hooks!

Merry Christmas to you all.

National Day week

National Day Week

This week has been busy, particularly preparing for National Day celebrations this weekend.

We only had to plan for two days this week and with the girls in and out for a never-ending array of practices for dancing, sport, or whatever else they do, it passed quickly.

Tuesday was the day the parents & staff come in dressed in their National Dress.  As things are never very organised I got the day wrong and didn’t dress any differently than normal.  Luckily the other two western teachers in my block didn’t either. 

So much for not needing any planning!  Of course we ended up teaching 6 periods on top of having a shared lunch with parents and girls hypo after gorging themselves on sweet treats.  Then to top it off the Principal tells the parents to come and talk to the teachers about how their daughters are doing.  Impromptu parent interviews!  We loved that and several of us managed to find our way to the bathroom about then.

Even though I bombed out on the dress I did take in some food.  What to take for your National Food?  That’s a bit tricky as a pavlova won’t do at functions where it’s shared kai.  Seafood would go off in the heat and I worry about giving everyone food poisoning.  So I opted for the tried and true scones.  I made plain ones the night before and cut them into small squares.  In the morning I buttered half and put on curried egg.  The other half I took to school and during period 3 put raspberry jam and cream on them.  I gave each girl in my class a taste and they loved them.  So now I have many families in Abu Dhabi baking scones.  The staff enjoyed them also, but the sweet ones were far more popular than the savoury.  Easy!

Then Wednesday was our National Day celebrations at school.  Parents arrived in time for assembly at 8.30am and sat down outside.  8.45am comes and goes and we are still standing there.  No HOF, no AP, no Principal.  In fact no-one but the girls, western teachers and parents.  Ummmm... 

Eventually the girls disperse into classrooms and (you guessed it) I find myself with two classes to look after.  So on goes a video of Cinderella which we watch until 10 when suddenly it’s a frantic rush with the Principal yelling at us to get out there for the National Anthem.  It’s no wonder the girls are so flighty and disorganised.  We (western teachers) have decided this is part of the culture as living a nomadic lifestyle you have to be ready to pack up and move at a moments notice, especially if a sandstorm is coming.  Everything is done at 100 miles an hour with no forward planning. 

I can think of one Principal back home who would be having a coronary!  Especially when we go on trips with no notice or idea of who is at school or where they are.  It’s crazy.

So back to the celebrations.  My girls are all decked out in their National Day finery. 

There were only about 3 girls in the whole school who weren’t in the coloured costumes.  Gold jewellery adorned heads, necks and ears.

                                                                       

The makeup would have made a model look twice and I wonder how many hours were spent getting these girls ready. 

Their hair was loose which was a delight to see as it is always tied up.  The swing their hair around during the hair dance. 

               

As the dance began the mothers let out this incredible yelping sound en-masse which was like a blood curdling yelling.  I wish I had managed to capture the noise as it was spine tingling.

So anyway all these parents have been sitting for 2 hours by now and it’s quite warm out there.  I take out my water bottle and a chair and sit down to enjoy the performances by the various classes.  I didn’t do anything as it was my first year and I didn’t know what was expected.  Of course, I was the only western teacher not to, yet lots of Arabic teachers didn’t.  As with everything here it’s double standards.

 So for the day I wore Emirate National Dress and arrived decked out in an Abaya & shela.  To complete the authentic look I wore high heels (which the girls noticed immediately) the obligatory hair decoration to give the shela the height and nice shape, bling, nails, handbag, heavy eye makeup, and big sunnies. 

Talk about elegant.  Wearing these clothes makes you stand up tall and walk in a ladylike manner. 

You can’t do too much as the shela keeps slipping so I ended up pinning it with a badge with the Sheikh on it.  That was much better.  The girls in my class showed me how to wear the shela then the local girls told me it was wrong and to wear it the Emirate way.  Far more fabulous and trendy!

                                                               (Ms Gaylene & Ms G)

The Arabic staff didn’t recognise me and thought I was the new Arabic HOF arrived from ADEC.

              

Today we had been told we could leave early to travel as we have a four day weekend.  But yesterday the Principal told the girls they had to come to school today so lots arrived.  If they don't come when she says (and I say don't come) she lines them up at assembly and canes them with her goat herding stick.  True!  So of course all my girls come as I'm always saying no school & they get into trouble.  No early leaving as we had to work one period each.  But with some swift talking while the Principal was out (as was the AP) we got the buses to come at 11.30am and by 12 we were sitting down on the mats outside to partake in tea and cinnamon buns and zatar croisants with cheese filling which one of the Arabic staff had made for us.  It was a lovely way to finish the week and I was out the gate by 12.15.

Our school is opposite the Abu Dhabi Municipality Finance building and over the last two days they have had huge marches, speeches, food, music, dancing and all sorts going on outside.  Outside the main Municipality building they have an enormous flag held up by two cranes.

Today I listened to traditional music all day from the celebrations next door and as I was leaving was intercepted by two men leaving the festivities.  They seemed out of place to the traditional city men dressed immaculately in white Kandora and looked as if they had just come in from herding the goats or camels.  Anyway one was very friendly and told me to take a photo with him!   Then he invited me over to join the celebrations but I declined as it seemed to be winding down and most had left.  I didn’t want to get caught in a bedouin tent with a couple of goat herders!  He’s probably some wealthy sheikh from out west with an oil well or two.  He had the wheels, all decorated but like most men here, smoked like a trooper.

 So I walked out to the road to get a taxi then caught a ride with a girl from work over to Marina Mall.  On the way we passed all the decorations going up and decorated cars.  Already National Day fever is alive and well.  The shops are full of clothing and accessories and everyone is all decked out in them.

Apparently it’s manic down on the Corniche on National Day with cars for miles, all playing loud music, teenagers spraying silly string over cars and people, all the cars decorated from top to bottom, kids sitting on roofs of cars, etc, etc.  Some say you must see, others say keep away.

I was off to the mall to get some shrimps to make spicy garlic shrimp.  So I order 1.5 kg at 59 AED kg.  I ask for them to be cut and cleaned for BBQ and am told it’ll be 20 minutes.  I wander off and do some shopping then return to get them.  They are all bagged up and sealed in foil bags so I don’t know if they’re cleaned or what. 

I get home and pop up to my HOF’s apartment to learn the marinade.  The prawns are as requested except he’d shelled them.  Next time I need to tell him to leave the shell on.  She has all the ingredients so does it for me, toning down the chilli to suit my milder taste.  So here’s the recipe if you want a super tasty dish - still with a kick.

Garlic Prawns

                                                                          

1 kg raw prawns (med/large) heads & feelers off, cut through back of shells for BBQ & deveined.

For the marinade you need (quantities are depending on taste but make a fairly runny mixture)

olive oil - good 1/4 cup

garlic sauce - more of this if you want it milder (less of the other sauces)

chilli sauce (not sweet chilli)

hot peri-peri marinade

garlic peri-peri sauce  (I think you could get away with two sauces, garlic & chilli, and oil)

Mix together to suit your taste then pour over prawns.  Sprinkle over some paprika or chilli pwd to taste.  Mix through prawns.  Marinade about ½ hour or less if no shells.

To cook: (Best in good non-stick frypan)

Heat good knob of garlic butter, 1/4 lb butter, 6 cloves garlic crushed, dried parsley or herbs on low heat until melted.

Add prawns.  Squeeze ½ lemon into marinade bowl and stir then add to prawns.

Cook on medium heat for around half an hour.  (I know, much longer than we’d cook prawns for).  Once prawns appear cooked, remove lid slightly to let sauce reduce and thicken.  Prawns are ready when sauce is reduced down and the oil comes to the top of the sauce.  (I asked what this meant and in Indian cooking it means the spices are cooked).

Sprinkle with fresh parsley, mint and/or coriander to serve.

Serve with savoury rice or steamed rice, steamed vegetables, bread.

Delicious!  These were gobbled up quickly once back in my apartment by the teenager and his friend.  My prawns cost 95 AED which is around $32 NZ and fed three with big helpings.  So a cheap meal really.  I think they will become a favourite of ours.

I finally bought my insulated jug so I can make my Arabic tea for tomorrow morning.  The HOF also mixed me up some of her traditional tea mixture of cardamon, ginger, black pepper, & cloves.  You add this mix to boiling water (they all use wee milk jugs on the stove) with a couple of tea bags then add milk to taste.  A spoon of sugar gives it the sweetness.  Delicious and enjoyable.   Same concept as the Arabic tea, Chai to us.

I also got a new mop and bucket for the cleaner, as requested by her.  I got some NZ rump steak and some Indian lamb chops.  Not sure about the Indian lamb but it’s much cheaper than NZ or Australian lamb.  I won’t be eating it anyway and the teenager is always attending BBQs and marinating meat to take.  Lucky he can cook.

I’m staying home this weekend and relaxing down by the pool.  The weather is cooling daily but I’m loving it.  But somehow I don’t think I’ll be needing the winter clothes on sale in the shops here.  I couldn’t help but take a photo of this in our local supermarket/department store.

Last Monday I went for a massage to see if I can get my shoulder sorted.  I had a Thai massage which was expensive, 200 AED.  But man, was it worth it.  I thought I’d had a good massage a few weeks ago but his woman was amazing.  It didn’t feel like she was doing anything but she worked on those knots in my shoulder for ages.  I could feel it the next day so I’ve not been swimming this week to give it time to adjust.  I may have to go back again.  The stretching she did across my back was amazing and I can see I need to be doing more of that.  Today when I sat down on the mat with my legs crossed I remembered that as it was difficult to sit like that.  Not a normal position for me.

Then to top the day of we had a few drops of rain.  People were getting upset as they thought it's going to rain over the weekend.  One girl at work said she wouldn't be able to go for her run!  Strange how you adapt so readily, isn't it?

After such an busy week I’m sitting down tonight with a beer at home watching TV.  I think I’ll finish the week off with an early night.

Thanksgiving

With the advent of yet another birthday (I hope I’m still going as strong as my parents when I’m 80) I decided, once again, that it was time to do some exercise.  The down side of this quality of life here is that it’s too sedentary for us from NZ.  For us kiwis who are used to an active lifestyle the inability to get out for a nice long walk is hard to bear.  The two main reasons for not getting out are the heat, and the shocking footpaths when it’s not too hot.

As I live in the most magnificent building with fantastic facilities I am trying to use them more frequently.  The cooler weather helps heaps with temperatures down to mid 20's!  Soon I’ll be moaning that it’s cold.

So with my new togs on (no bikini yet!) {I can hear you laughing from here} it’s been back to the pool for me.  I’ve managed to work myself up from one length to 10 this week.  50 metre lengths that is.  Mind you the 10 had a pause after 4, then after 7, then stopped at 10.  But a vast improvement on my gasping at the end of each length before.  Normally I’d get to the end and prop my chin on the edge (I have to do this as the pool is too deep to stand in) and gasp while my breathing returned to normal.  I have no idea what the skinny people lying by the pool sunbathing thought as they listened to this noise.  But, hey!  They’re only looking good, I’m doing it!

So after my 10 I head down the next day and off I go.  The water is noticeably cooler which aids swimming, or so I tell myself.  I’ve got the goal of 10 again but trying to not stop until after 5.  5 lengths come and go and I don’t even feel like stopping so I carry on.  10 arrives and I feel like I could keep going.  So I do.  12 lengths in total.  Then I propped my chin up and breathed but nothing gasping like before.  Yeah!

Today I headed down to the gym and did 30 minutes on the treadmill, just walking - I don’t intend to become silly about this, then 10 minutes on the bike in preparation for my cycling around Amsterdam.  I think I’ll give the swimming a miss today as I’m heading out at 4pm for a thanksgiving dinner with my American friends.

The teenager has already been to one thanksgiving, a new experience for us.  He came home last night to tell me it was at an American diplomat’s house as his friend’s mother works for the Embassy.  So moving and shaking in the right quarters.  He said it was a large gathering with around 40 there.  When the boys here the other night mentioned they’d been invited to thanksgiving by this boy’s mother, I don’t think they realised what they were going to.  I certainly didn’t.  It turned out that I’d ‘hosted’ this boy’s birthday party on Thursday night!

The said birthday prompted me to do something about getting a maid.  I’d been thinking about it as each Friday morning when I’m doing my cleaning, the teenagers friends turn up while I’m in my shorts and singlet mopping the floor.  You can just about put money on it happening.  Anyway, I was getting sick of feeling and looking like the maid and had discussed getting one but hadn’t gone any further.  I’m sure the maid in the apartment opposite me thinks I’m the maid here as the only time she sees me is when I’m putting out the rubbish or cleaning the front door.  So after two 17 year olds telling me they’d pay for a maid to clean the flat after the party I decided it was time to take action.  When in Rome, do as the Romans do!  So when in Abu Dhabi, get a maid.

Luckily a woman had given me her card a few weeks back in the lift so I phone her.  She’s here within two hours and spends three hours cleaning the place while I sit around wondering what to do.  All up for the three hours and a taxi it cost 125 AED which is about $42NZ.  She is now coming weekly.

Then the next big breakthrough for me was sending the washing out to a laundry.  I’ve only sent a duvet before as it was too big to go in the machine.  But my machine is back in the shop and the washing was piling up, including wet towels from swimming.  So I phoned up the laundry and the man arrived within the hour with a bag and took it all away.  It’ll be back tomorrow and I have no idea what it will cost.  Everything went, including my undies...  OMG!  Talk about a different life.

                                                                            .

I mentioned second hand goods in my last blog and the popularity of them.  I am keen to buy a boxed set of books for the teenager for Christmas but have only found them in Dubai.  Anyway, books are expensive here and there are no libraries so I decided to sell some of the books we have accumulated since arriving here.  Not the good sets I’ve put together but the random one-offs.  So I photograph them and place the adds on the facebook site.  There are lots here and I belong to three, even a Christmas one.  I had made the books into sets of similar genre or authors and sold the first one last night, then met another woman this morning downstairs in a coffee shop with another set.  So hopefully they will sell quickly then I’ll have to have a trip to Dubai to buy the others - George Martin series.

I’ve managed to Skype all three of my sisters this weekend as well as Mum and Dad.  We attempted a conference call with four of us on it but I’ll need to pay to get the facility to see them all.  What a good way to catch up with family.  Sister number 3 just needs to get her microphone working then we’ll be all set.  I suggested she pop around to visit Dad who is now an expert on the computer, even getting his own facebook page at 80!  Way to go Dad.

I know this is an extra entry but we have another long weekend coming up.  It’s National Day which is a big thing here.  Already all the shops and schools have decorations up.  Buildings are being decked out in lights and flags.  We have two days of celebrations with food at school then a four day weekend.  Apparently it’s chaos down on the Corniche with cars banked up for hours.  There has also been several warnings (not publically of course) about Western women going down there as last year a group were attacked by around 50 men.  So I’ll be keeping away.  And of course it’s the Dubai 7's.  I did plan to head out west to stay with my friend then go to Sir Baniyas Island which has an animal reserve and outdoor activities but she’s phoned to postpone it.  So not sure what I’ll do.  Sri Lanka still sounds good...  But will probably stay at home and save some money as my other son from Christchurch arrives for three weeks shortly.

I’ve just returned home from my first Thanksgiving Dinner and it makes me want to give thanks for the wonderful friends we have made here and who have invited us into their lives and vice versa.

                                       Lochie, Andy, Darryl, Martin, Maureen & Sian.

The aromatic smell emanating from the apartment hits us as we exit the lift. The teenager and I are the first to arrive armed with a chilled bottle of bubbly.  Nibbles are brought out and we chat while the hosts pop in and out from the kitchen.  Pumpkin pies line the cabinets and the table is set up for a large group.  The turkey is cooking nicely in the oven when I pop into the kitchen.

Other guests arrive in groups and we catch up with each other’s news.  The hostess hands us ladies a pair of socks, a tradition in her family where female guests are given Christmas socks.  Check ours out.  See if you can figure out which feet belong to whom?

More guests arrive and good cheer and company flows.  The turkey arrives and is duly carved by the chef.  After grace, we sit down to an enormous meal of turkey, mashed  potatoes, sweet potatoes topped with crispy marshmellows, beans & onions, brussel sprouts, stuffing & gravy.  For desert there is pumpkin pie, strawberry cheesecake and jelly.

                                       Demetri the chef.                                        

                                                   Our hosts, Matt & Erin plus Trevor.

Fully sated, I head home in a taxi for a good nights sleep, accompanied by a cute turkey thanksgiving card made by Trevor.

                                                          Happy Thanksgiving to you all.                                                                                                      

Loving the long weekends!

It seems an age since I last blogged!  Must be having too much of a social life at the moment.  I've just read through my last entry to see what I'd written about so hopefully I won't repeat myself.

Since the last long weekend it's been life as normal.  Work has been busy as any teacher will know.  It's settled into a routine and for the most part is enjoyable although it is still frustrating trying to deliver an overcrowded curriculum to girls who often don't understand anything you've said.

The main frustration is the obvious unfairness of the workload.  Twice this week I've picked up two extra periods of teaching while the Arabic teachers sit around and do nothing.  Remembering that we teach more classes than them to begin with.  I find this annoying and I had one day when it really bugged me... so I refused to sign the book that came around, knowing I'd end up with no break.  It annoys me that the Vice Principal doesn't even come to ask or talk to me about it, just sends a book around with the Filipino helper.  As I'm teaching, I can't even go off and talk to her about it.  So the book comes back and I end up doing one extra class.  Then the same, same happened yesterday.  All the grade 4 & 5 girls were out on a 'marathon' so we had a free day, supposedly.  But those not running had to come to school so we combined them into one class and got one period each.  I did first as I've been caught before with the last two while the locals skive off to wherever they go.  Period 2 I'm told I'm teaching P3 also.  What?  But I've done mine!  Too bad.  Now the three western teachers have to cover for Grade 3 as there teachers are all out at the marathon.  Talk about annoying as we were trying to get our work up to date for the numerous assessments and reports are due soon.  But the motto is: "Apply then comply" apparently.  So you don't get any sympathy from anyone.

Enough said.  If you can't beat them, join them.  So I managed to get off earlier and go home for an appointment at 12.30pm.

Last weekend we had another 3 day break.  I'll know for next year to save hard for this time of the year as the deals to fly away for the weekend are amazing.  The break was for New Year.  It was also Diwali, the Indian festival of lights so town was busy.  My friend came in from out west and we did hair, nails, eyebrows, waxing etc.  Sounds like an exciting time doesn't it?  Then we met one of her workmates for lunch at the Beach Rotana and did Abu Dhabi Mall and Marks and Spencer Mall.

After she left to go home, I spent time relaxing down at the pool.  I'm trying to use it more now that the weather has cooled down nicely.  The evenings in particular are lovely at the moment and I'm missing walking something terrible.

So we've had lots of short weeks at work.  This weekend is normal so we've had to work a full five days!  That was a shock to the system I can tell you.  Plus it meant we had to plan for five days!!!!

The exciting thing this week was my birthday.  I went out to lunch after work on Wednesday to the Dome in Al Whada Mall.  Then last night I met up with friends at The Captains Arms pub at Le Meridan for a drink and something to eat.  After that we wandered around Abu Dhabi Mall for some exercise, stopping at the book shop to browse, then having a frozen yogurt to round off the night.

The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are everywhere here and it's been interesting to hear how it's unfolding back in New Zealand, especially in Wellington.  I watched a young boy pick up Book 1 of LOTR and take it over to his father.  Then he came back and found the boxed set.  Over he goes again, but 'baba' wasn't buying.  I remembered all the LOTR books, puzzles, stationery, etc that my boys had in NZ and felt like buying the book for this boy.

Then I get home to find a house full of teenagers!   At last I got to meet some of the teenagers friends, although earlier in the evening might have been better.  I'm waiting for the moany neighbour to come and ring the doorbell to tell them to be quiet but didn't hear from her, yet.   By midnight they've dispersed leaving a mighty mess for the teenager to clean this  morning.  They offered to pay for a maid, that's the difference in the life here, they all have them to clean up after them and their friends.  I must admit that two of them did stay behind and help him tidy up before they left.  I'm also surprised that the boys who stayed are already up and heading down to the gym, none too worse for wear.

Friends are now able to sleep over as last weekend I finally bought a couple of bed settees.  I found a lovely wooden one with black and white cushions which is in the teenagers room and a cheap foam fold out couch in the lounge for guests.  So they've been used already.  I bought them second-hand through an online site which was a day worth writing about in itself.

First it's making contact with the seller.  Things sell quickly here, the market for second hand goods is buoyant with such a transient population.  I'd also found some things on a teacher facebook page and had arranged to look at 12noon.  Then I find these two couches at 7am so email the seller immediately, thinking it's too early to phone on a Friday.  He replies so I arrange to go and view at 9am.  I've done this several times before only to find things have been sold before I get there.  So I jump in the shower & grab a cuppa then head down to get a taxi.  Luckily I get a Filipino driver with good English and off we set.  I view the couches and buy both, nothing a little cleaning won't fix.  So the next step is to get a mover.  Off I go in the taxi to the local Post Office where all the moving men and their trucks hang out.  We arrive and there's only one, because it's Friday - prayer day.  I negotiate a price and off we set.  100 AED for the ute and 50AED each for the two men.  But I bargined it down to 150 AED all up.  They load up the goods and head home, following me in the taxi.  The taxi driver warns me that I'll probably have to pay the 200 AED as the man who agreed to the price isn't one of them and he was right.  So they unload the goods while I phone the other lady to see if I can come earlier to get her stuff.  I renegotiate a second price and same, same, they follow me in the taxi to my old building.  This woman has wonderful stuff and cheap so I buy up large, filling the ute to the max.  I got one small white end table and one black, a black leather recliner chair, a beautiful black and silver rug with koru designs, two bookcases and a computer chair.  I would have bought more but I only had enough cash to pay the removal men and the taxi (remembering I'd had the taxi for two hours by now).  So I headed home with the next load to fill up the apartment nicely.  As we were entering the island, the security stopped the removal men to see where they were going.  Obviously only certain types are allowed into our domain.  I gave the men a 10AED tip on top of their wages and they still tried to get more money out of me.  So a good days work for them and now my apartment is looking much homelier.

The really funny thing that happened was the man selling the couches phoned me asking for a brown cushion back which had come by mistake.  He'd given me 5 cushions but he wanted this one back.  Odd, I thought, particularly as he was emigrating to Canada in a few days time.  The teenager and I decided it must be stuffed with something so take it apart and have a good look but nothing noticeable.  I tell him I'll take it into work the next day.

Next day arrives and he phones me.  Oops!  I'd forgotten the cushion but assure him I'll bring it tomorrow.  I get home and put it by the door so I'll remember.  I take it in and text him that I've left it at reception and have informed both the lady there and the security guard that he'll be in to collect it.  1.30pm he phones and as I had no class I go to take it to him.  Only to find no lady & no cushion.  Odd!  I ask security, cleaners, bus monitors, all the office staff, phone the lady who had to go out on a class trip, in fact everyone.  Half an hour later I'm still none the wiser as to where it is.  The man phones me and says to inform him when I have it.  I leave work without any idea of where it is.

Next morning the woman is very apologetic but we are none the wiser as to who took it off the desk.  I ask her to recheck with security and cleaners.  Shortly she's in my room with the cushion.  It seems that the Principal's driver had taken it, thinking it was hers.  So I phone the man and he's there within 5 minutes to collect it.

Very strange indeed!  Not a charmed cushion.  I think it may have a tale to tell, especially if they took it to Canada.  Perhaps it needs its own blog...

F1 - Day 4

Day 4

Today I had to go to work and I must admit that by now I was feeling pretty jaded.  Two concerts in two nights was taking its toll on me as I had to be up at my normal early time for work.  I should have pulled a sickie but the ‘good’ me wanted to do the right thing.  Thinking I had an arrangement with my HOF to leave at lunch and she would cover for me I head into work.  Giving the teenager a note to leave school early, I’d arranged to meet him at 12 at the track with his friends to get the concert tickets.

I get to work to find out that another teacher is away (probably doing the same as me) and I won’t have any cover but I can leave straight after school!  Not happening.  So at 10.45 am I get very sick and have to go to the Vice Principal and sign out to go to the hospital due to my severe earache.  Serves me right if it came true wouldn’t it?

So I race home in a taxi, change and grab another taxi.  As I’m cruising out to the track I’m texting the teenager as I’m thinking I should swing by and pick him up.  But I didn’t hear so carry on.  Trouble was, he wasn’t allowed to leave school so missed the V8 race but was in time for the F1. 

I’ll know if there is a next time that we’ll both have the day off.

The V8 final race of 3 was exciting as there was a crash out in front of the Hotel and one car caught fire so the driver jumped out and ran for his life.  All too soon it’s over and there is a long wait before the final of the Formula 1.  It starts with a parade of drivers who are driven around the track on the back of a truck.

We have to be in our seats ready for the Etihad Airline flyby.  As a major sponsor (and the fact that the track is situated nearby the airport) the plane flies over several times.  This isn’t as exciting as it sounds as we’d had planes flying over all weekend.  However, the plane did look fantastic all decked out in its Formula 1 livery.

Then it’s all stand for the National Anthem.  Then it’s all noise and fast cars.

The F1 race had all its crashes right in front of us, same corner as the V8s, so we saw it all.  It was an exciting race with many twists and turns.

The teenager and his friends attended the Emimen concert on the Sunday night while I headed home for a decent sleep.

During the event there were free concerts down on the beach which is what the locals seemed to attend.  They had some amazing artists down there so maybe that’s the way to go.

I loved the weekend but I’m not sure I’d pay that money again to experience such unpleasant noise and for so long.  The race went for 2 hours!  I think V8's are more my style.