December 2nd 2014 marked the 43rd National Day of the United Arab Emirates.
As a country it is relatively new. But they sure know how to celebrate and put on a good show here.
It begins with weeks of build-up - both within the schools and in the wider community. Flag day signifies the beginning of the festivities when schools and homes fly the UAE flag. I have never seen anything like it and the flag makers must spend many hours labouring over their sewing machines to whip up the thousands of flags. And then there are the ones made to order for the tall buildings.
Traffic stops as gigantic flags are hoisted up on cranes alongside the roads to fly for the next few weeks. And we are not just talking about a flag flying. No, I mean a flag dropped from the height of the crane to ground level then secured there to billow and distract drivers.
Lights appear on every tall building as each organisation tries to outdo it's neighbour by having the best light show. Laser lights appear at Emirate Palace and spotlights adorn many buildings. Pictures come and go on buildings and 43 features everywhere. Newcomers to the UAE are impressed with the 'Christmas' decorations and lights on display on the roads and bridges but we are quick to point out that the red, green & white lights are UAE colours and put up in their thousands for National Day.
At school preparations begin weeks beforehand. Money is not in short supply for this resource! Girls are pulled from class to practise the hair dance which is a traditional dance where they flick their long tresses from side to side. Costumes are bought for students to wear on the day. Flags fly, scarves and decorative jewellery (most real gold) adorn all outfits. UAE colours are worn by teachers and students alike.
The celebration day at school is brought forward due to many girls being absent as parents take them away on holidays at this auspicious time. Assemblies in the morning drag on and on and on as we celebrate yet again.
Lavish is the word used to describe the day we had at school with mothers taking a big part in the celebrations. I missed it as I was off sick with a sore throat and no voice. Possibly a good thing as the contrast between what I can get in the way of resources for the classroom and the money spent here is unsettling.
Gifts are commonplace and our Arabic VP's husband sent all her co-workers a bottle of perfume. Very nice indeed.
But for us government workers it means a long weekend, so we don't complain. This year I decided I would brave the downtown celebrations. Normally I watch from the safety and sanity of my apartment window but decided it was time to bite the bullet. Also I was showing off to some new Kiwis - this is how we do it!
For weeks beforehand the jets had been out in force down over the Corniche beach area. So three of us duly decide to head down for the air show and later fireworks. Now I know enough to know not to drive and that is it chaos so we catch the bus a good three hours beforehand thinking this would be fine. By the time the bus arrives down the Corniche the road is already being barricaded and closed - a good two hours before the advertised time. So the bus unceremoniously dumps all the passengers on the side of the road, which is hectic with traffic trying to get through. This is compounded by the fact that it is a public holiday and every, and I mean every, worker in Abu Dhabi is making his way on foot to the Corniche. You think you get the picture? Well, believe me it was many times worse. We three able bodied females help mothers with young children carrying hampers and chairs who were dumped off the bus. And we were literally dumped into the middle of the traffic! Taking our life, and those of someone elses children, into our hands, we weave our way across to the other side of the road and begin to wander aimlessly along with hundreds of others. Forgoing the first space we find in favour of more walking we finally arrive at a makeshift army barracks surrounded by barbed wire fencing. Guards moniter the entrance and we wonder who is going inside there. So the cheeky kiwi justs asks and we three are admitted! Just like that.
A flashy show of military might is how I would describe the area we entered. We found seats on the beach, got given cold drinks and water and sat down to enjoy the airshow.
Now those who know me know I love the airshow in Blenheim. Well, this one was up close and personal and once again designed to show anyone watching that the UAE is a force to be reckoned with. In case there was any doubt!
Then only thing that didn't fly was the helicopters which was unusual. All the while dragon boat races were taking place on the water underneath the jets. You can imagine my concern as the jets rose into the azure sky and stalled! I wouldn't want to have been on that water under them. No OSH here!!!
After the airshow we were treated to a parade of tanks and guns.
Trying to exit the enclosure was a mission and I can now understand how people get killed in stampedes at football stadiums. There was them and us. By them I mean the workers. By us I mean those locals and expats who were priveledged enough to be inside the enclosure. Cars were trying to rejoin the traffic on the road while thousands of men were being chased off the fence and funnelled into a dead end. It seemed to be a crazy performance happening in front of our eyes. So we are carefully picking our way between cars and soldiers to exit (imagine a driveway lined with men on either side) when one man breaks the cordon and jumps like a gazelle in front of us to get across the driveway. Honestly, I have never seen or been caught up in anything like it in my life. So if one can do it, they all can. All hell broke loose as men charged across the walkway to get to the other side. And back again. And we three are in the middle of it! OMG! We are pushed and pulled this way and that. We scream, grab arms where possible to steady ourselves and end up spewing forth onto the main road with cars everywhere. Meanwhile, whistles are blowing, soldiers are shouting and frantically trying to regain order, cars are tooting and I'm expecting guns to start firing at the melee, with us in the centre of it, at any minute.
Subdued, we make our way down so we can cross the road to get to a bar, any bar will do. Of course there are none in the vicinity and you can not cross the road. Because the parade of cars has begun.
This starts all the way out at Yas Island with a competition for the best decorated car. The prize money is huge. Then they all drive into town in a convoy with main roads shut (ask the teengager who was stuck in traffic for 5 hours while my car was desecrated with silly puttie) and join every teenager in Abu Dhabi who is showing off his horsepower and stupidity. Did I mention the bodies hanging out of cars? And this isn't just young boys. Cars loaded with mothers and wee kids, many hanging out windows or sunroofs drive up and down. All going nowhere as you can only uturn at the end and drive back down the other side to repeat the performance.
Kids spray silly string and foam directly into the faces and eyes of others. Workers are particularly easy targets for the local boys as they can't fight back in fear of being deported. It was embarrassing to watch and heaven help the group of little darlings who tried it with us. I don't think they have had a mature western woman take off her backpack before and attempt to bash them while chasing them downstairs through beautifully tiled underpasses.
We finally make it to comparitive safety on the other side of the road and flag down a taxi and head away from the mayhem to a quieter hotel. It must have taken us an hour to walk that far.
On arrival at the hotel we encounter an Australian artist who is setting up an exhibition. After chatting to his wife for a while we head out for some food and drink with the intention of returning to the Corniche for the 9pm fireworks.
Suitable fed and watered (favourite fish and chips and brew) we head back inside to find out that the restaurant is having a grand opening. We join the Australian artist and wife and gratecrash the do. Dressed in my old tights and beach wear we certainly don't look the part but a glass or two of good bubbly helps fortify us against any disapproving looks.
An Arabic dance squad arrives to perform so we chat with them afterwards. I get my name written in Arabic calligraphy for me.
An attempt to make it on foot back to the Corniche for the fireworks was futile but necessary. Once I'd started I kept going, and going and going. No fireworks but it was worth the long walk just to see how crazy the car parade had become. Streets on the way were gridlocked. Police sat on motorcycles and did nothing. What could they do anyway? Boys and men walked between the cars. Horns honked, everyone was yelling, sirens blaring, cars backfiring (I never knew you could make that much noise deliberately with a vehicle) as the boys all tried to outdo each other. And the silly putty kept on spraying. The photos don't do the occassion justice. A cacophony of sound erupted all around me. The one consolation was that my car was tucked up safely at home, or so I thought.
A quick stop at the Sheraton for a reviving drink was necessary before beginning the walk home as no taxi in their right mind would venture down this area tonight. In fact, no human in their right mind should venture down there either.
As a country it is relatively new. But they sure know how to celebrate and put on a good show here.
It begins with weeks of build-up - both within the schools and in the wider community. Flag day signifies the beginning of the festivities when schools and homes fly the UAE flag. I have never seen anything like it and the flag makers must spend many hours labouring over their sewing machines to whip up the thousands of flags. And then there are the ones made to order for the tall buildings.
Traffic stops as gigantic flags are hoisted up on cranes alongside the roads to fly for the next few weeks. And we are not just talking about a flag flying. No, I mean a flag dropped from the height of the crane to ground level then secured there to billow and distract drivers.
Lights appear on every tall building as each organisation tries to outdo it's neighbour by having the best light show. Laser lights appear at Emirate Palace and spotlights adorn many buildings. Pictures come and go on buildings and 43 features everywhere. Newcomers to the UAE are impressed with the 'Christmas' decorations and lights on display on the roads and bridges but we are quick to point out that the red, green & white lights are UAE colours and put up in their thousands for National Day.
At school preparations begin weeks beforehand. Money is not in short supply for this resource! Girls are pulled from class to practise the hair dance which is a traditional dance where they flick their long tresses from side to side. Costumes are bought for students to wear on the day. Flags fly, scarves and decorative jewellery (most real gold) adorn all outfits. UAE colours are worn by teachers and students alike.
The celebration day at school is brought forward due to many girls being absent as parents take them away on holidays at this auspicious time. Assemblies in the morning drag on and on and on as we celebrate yet again.
Lavish is the word used to describe the day we had at school with mothers taking a big part in the celebrations. I missed it as I was off sick with a sore throat and no voice. Possibly a good thing as the contrast between what I can get in the way of resources for the classroom and the money spent here is unsettling.
Gifts are commonplace and our Arabic VP's husband sent all her co-workers a bottle of perfume. Very nice indeed.
But for us government workers it means a long weekend, so we don't complain. This year I decided I would brave the downtown celebrations. Normally I watch from the safety and sanity of my apartment window but decided it was time to bite the bullet. Also I was showing off to some new Kiwis - this is how we do it!
For weeks beforehand the jets had been out in force down over the Corniche beach area. So three of us duly decide to head down for the air show and later fireworks. Now I know enough to know not to drive and that is it chaos so we catch the bus a good three hours beforehand thinking this would be fine. By the time the bus arrives down the Corniche the road is already being barricaded and closed - a good two hours before the advertised time. So the bus unceremoniously dumps all the passengers on the side of the road, which is hectic with traffic trying to get through. This is compounded by the fact that it is a public holiday and every, and I mean every, worker in Abu Dhabi is making his way on foot to the Corniche. You think you get the picture? Well, believe me it was many times worse. We three able bodied females help mothers with young children carrying hampers and chairs who were dumped off the bus. And we were literally dumped into the middle of the traffic! Taking our life, and those of someone elses children, into our hands, we weave our way across to the other side of the road and begin to wander aimlessly along with hundreds of others. Forgoing the first space we find in favour of more walking we finally arrive at a makeshift army barracks surrounded by barbed wire fencing. Guards moniter the entrance and we wonder who is going inside there. So the cheeky kiwi justs asks and we three are admitted! Just like that.
A flashy show of military might is how I would describe the area we entered. We found seats on the beach, got given cold drinks and water and sat down to enjoy the airshow.
Now those who know me know I love the airshow in Blenheim. Well, this one was up close and personal and once again designed to show anyone watching that the UAE is a force to be reckoned with. In case there was any doubt!
Then only thing that didn't fly was the helicopters which was unusual. All the while dragon boat races were taking place on the water underneath the jets. You can imagine my concern as the jets rose into the azure sky and stalled! I wouldn't want to have been on that water under them. No OSH here!!!
After the airshow we were treated to a parade of tanks and guns.
There was time to stand around and watch the dancing.
This starts all the way out at Yas Island with a competition for the best decorated car. The prize money is huge. Then they all drive into town in a convoy with main roads shut (ask the teengager who was stuck in traffic for 5 hours while my car was desecrated with silly puttie) and join every teenager in Abu Dhabi who is showing off his horsepower and stupidity. Did I mention the bodies hanging out of cars? And this isn't just young boys. Cars loaded with mothers and wee kids, many hanging out windows or sunroofs drive up and down. All going nowhere as you can only uturn at the end and drive back down the other side to repeat the performance.
We finally make it to comparitive safety on the other side of the road and flag down a taxi and head away from the mayhem to a quieter hotel. It must have taken us an hour to walk that far.
On arrival at the hotel we encounter an Australian artist who is setting up an exhibition. After chatting to his wife for a while we head out for some food and drink with the intention of returning to the Corniche for the 9pm fireworks.
Suitable fed and watered (favourite fish and chips and brew) we head back inside to find out that the restaurant is having a grand opening. We join the Australian artist and wife and gratecrash the do. Dressed in my old tights and beach wear we certainly don't look the part but a glass or two of good bubbly helps fortify us against any disapproving looks.
An Arabic dance squad arrives to perform so we chat with them afterwards. I get my name written in Arabic calligraphy for me.
An attempt to make it on foot back to the Corniche for the fireworks was futile but necessary. Once I'd started I kept going, and going and going. No fireworks but it was worth the long walk just to see how crazy the car parade had become. Streets on the way were gridlocked. Police sat on motorcycles and did nothing. What could they do anyway? Boys and men walked between the cars. Horns honked, everyone was yelling, sirens blaring, cars backfiring (I never knew you could make that much noise deliberately with a vehicle) as the boys all tried to outdo each other. And the silly putty kept on spraying. The photos don't do the occassion justice. A cacophony of sound erupted all around me. The one consolation was that my car was tucked up safely at home, or so I thought.
Mayhem!
There are as many bodies walking as in cars.
Teenagers hang out of these cars while they make as much noise as possible.
Groups walk along and spray silly putty on the cars.
Now I know why they invented sunroofs! So you can stand up in your vehicle.
