Today's corrections: my not anymore manager Chuck pointed out to me this morning that the email was sent to a different Charles that isn't him. That Charles did not see fit to inform anyone that he had received an email in error. He probably wishes he was a cool as Chuck, in fact, he might be obsessed with Chuck and pretending to be him like that guy in The Talented Mr. Ripley. Personally, I think the safest thing would be to fire him, or make him change his name.
I was a total slacker today. It's the first time since my arrival that I've slept through the morning call to prayer (430 am). When I woke up I finally got around to unpacking (discovered I forgot a few things) and had planned to do a little exploring (the weekend here is Friday and Saturday). But when I went out at 11 am the heat was so unbearable that I took a cue from the locals and went over to the mall. If you can imagine getting into your car on the hottest day of summer after it's been sitting in the sun all closed up for 6 hours, and closing the door without opening any windows and then trying to drive somewhere, you can imagine the heat here.
I returned to the co-op I went to last night and got a power adapter that actually works (unlike my current one). A very nice woman from Pakistan helped me pick out some nail polish. Then I checked out the food court in the mall proper and found an Indian place where I imagine I'll be spending a lot of time eating (fish tikka - yum). Oddly, there aren't many middle eastern restaurants, or if there are, I don't know where to find them. In Abu Dhabi most restaurants are located in hotels or malls. I thought I would find a small local place to eat at near the hotel, but that hasn't happened yet. There are McDonald's and KFCs everywhere. McDonald's sells something called a McArabia (fire the marketing person who came up with that name) which is kofta on a bun. They have signs for it everywhere.
Then I went to the gym at my hotel, which I love, love, love! They even have two rower machines. My experience so far is that the women all work out, and the guys stand around scratching themselves and watching the women work out. I ran two miles even though I told my dad I was going to ease back into running slowly and follow the workouts in the non-marathon runner's handbook, which said I was only supposed to run a half mile today (whatever!).
Finally, I went to the beach and planned to swim a mile, but that got boring really quickly. Instead I ended up sitting on a beach chair trying to read while this Greek guy on the squash court behind me made obscene noises every time he hit the ball, and 3 german kids set up camp in front of me and took turns burying each other. I assume, though I haven't verified, that the sand on the beach came from the desert, because it's super fine, like talcum powder, and it gets into everything.
I was debating going to check out a bar or club on the hotel property, but decided to stay in and read my book. Best to wait until Ireland is back in town, I think. This evening while I was at the beach I noticed that, although I took a chair in an area that was completely deserted, by the time I put my book away and decided to get dinner four of the guys who were at the beach when I got there had moved to chairs a lot closer to mine. One of the guys was so hairy that when I first glanced over at him, curled up on a chair, I thought "oh nice, someone brought their dog and it's sleeping on a lounge like a person". Gross!
Speaking of which, the coconut crackers didn't work out very well. They were literally like saltine crackers sprinkled with coconut shavings. And I found out my cherries were grown in Iran, not Turkey. I wanted to get more today but most of the fruit was sold out since Ramadan starts tomorrow.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
"welcome to the country...illegally!"
Today I was supposed to get my residence visa. Ha ha ha. Didn't happen.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking wow, the bureaucratic mess of UAE's government! You would be wrong. The problem is actually MY COMPANY.
I got to the office in Dubai after a two hour tour of the city by my colleague A, who knows everything about Dubai, including where all the sheiks live. I have to admit that Dubai is aesthetically one of the most amazing cities I've ever seen. It doesn't look real, it looks like Dubai Disney. Even the concrete overpasses are decorative, having been painted and with ornamental cement flourishes. There was no trash, anywhere (and they have recycling bins!). The city has grass, trees, and flowers everywhere. All the buildings sort of match each other.
Anyway, I was told by the HR rep who was supposed to do my residency visa that someone had failed to fill out "the initialization form" and that I was "in the country illegally". The HR rep, V, is french, very attractive, and prone to dramatic fits. In fact, what she said to me was "Welcome to the country...ILLEGALLY!" I calmly pointed out to her that I had a visa for 60 days (though, in my passport they only put 30 days, which worried me, but I was told by both V and Ireland "of course they only put 30 days in your passport" - as if I'm the one being illogical) and that only my COMPANY considered me to be in the country illegally. More wringing of hands and sighs from V. "I can do NOTHING about this situation. NOTHING!" she finally said, throwing her hands up to the heavens, perhaps to implore some higher being to remove me from her sight (I did wash my hair today, but have to admit my outfit was no where near as stylish as hers - she was wearing Jimmy Choos and this ring that I've always coveted from Tiffany's, Elsa Peretti collection).
At this point Ireland stepped in (we seem to have naturally developed a good cop/bad cop routine) and said "I swear on my heart I don't know what this "initialization" thing is. We thought we had done everything right." Even when she lies through her teeth, she sounds sincere due to her accent. More back and forth, while I stared out V's window and wondered why an HR person would have such a posh office, overlooking an oasis, when suddenly I heard V say "But I sent the email to Charles". I was like "I don't even KNOW a Charles!" when suddenly I realized she had sent the email to my manager who isn't my manager anymore, Chuck.
Everyone knows Chuck's email is a black hole. Things get sucked into his inbox and proceed towards the event horizon until they are overcome by exponentially increasing gravity, ceasing to be an email, and instead becoming a spaghettification of zeros and ones from which no sense can ever be made (and worse occurs if you get a lotus notes database link, which causes the black hole to increase in size, beyond lotus notes, to consume applications and documents standing too close). All this happens while Chuck is sitting on 6 hour conference calls. It isn't his fault.
Anyway, we have 60 days to clean up the mess. Ireland is working on the "initialization" thing tonight even though she has to leave for Pakistan on Saturday at 3 in the morning and has loads to do before then. I got the task of getting an official diploma for my master's degree to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the US, so they can send it to UAE, because without it I won't get a residence visa (I was like can't I just get a copy of the one I have, and V, horrified, said "a COPY?" as though I were suggesting giving Audrey Hepburn a knockoff birkin or something). In the mean time, the scope of my job here is expanding rapidly. But that's a good thing.
I finished my day at the Abu Dhabi co-op, a store that's like Target, but better. The push carts are beautifully painted, there's everything in the world there, and I bought a bag of cherries that must have come straight from Malatya. I also bought a box of something that I'm really, really hoping turns out to be coconut cookies. Though, the box could contain something else. I hope it isn't a facial. I once bought what I thought was going to be a bag of dried strawberries in Greece, only to find out a week after I opened and ate the contents (which I assumed to be some kind of yogurt) that it was a facial. I found out when I brought another bag in to the office to have for breakfast during a meeting - yes, I did that in front of a customer.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking wow, the bureaucratic mess of UAE's government! You would be wrong. The problem is actually MY COMPANY.
I got to the office in Dubai after a two hour tour of the city by my colleague A, who knows everything about Dubai, including where all the sheiks live. I have to admit that Dubai is aesthetically one of the most amazing cities I've ever seen. It doesn't look real, it looks like Dubai Disney. Even the concrete overpasses are decorative, having been painted and with ornamental cement flourishes. There was no trash, anywhere (and they have recycling bins!). The city has grass, trees, and flowers everywhere. All the buildings sort of match each other.
Anyway, I was told by the HR rep who was supposed to do my residency visa that someone had failed to fill out "the initialization form" and that I was "in the country illegally". The HR rep, V, is french, very attractive, and prone to dramatic fits. In fact, what she said to me was "Welcome to the country...ILLEGALLY!" I calmly pointed out to her that I had a visa for 60 days (though, in my passport they only put 30 days, which worried me, but I was told by both V and Ireland "of course they only put 30 days in your passport" - as if I'm the one being illogical) and that only my COMPANY considered me to be in the country illegally. More wringing of hands and sighs from V. "I can do NOTHING about this situation. NOTHING!" she finally said, throwing her hands up to the heavens, perhaps to implore some higher being to remove me from her sight (I did wash my hair today, but have to admit my outfit was no where near as stylish as hers - she was wearing Jimmy Choos and this ring that I've always coveted from Tiffany's, Elsa Peretti collection).
At this point Ireland stepped in (we seem to have naturally developed a good cop/bad cop routine) and said "I swear on my heart I don't know what this "initialization" thing is. We thought we had done everything right." Even when she lies through her teeth, she sounds sincere due to her accent. More back and forth, while I stared out V's window and wondered why an HR person would have such a posh office, overlooking an oasis, when suddenly I heard V say "But I sent the email to Charles". I was like "I don't even KNOW a Charles!" when suddenly I realized she had sent the email to my manager who isn't my manager anymore, Chuck.
Everyone knows Chuck's email is a black hole. Things get sucked into his inbox and proceed towards the event horizon until they are overcome by exponentially increasing gravity, ceasing to be an email, and instead becoming a spaghettification of zeros and ones from which no sense can ever be made (and worse occurs if you get a lotus notes database link, which causes the black hole to increase in size, beyond lotus notes, to consume applications and documents standing too close). All this happens while Chuck is sitting on 6 hour conference calls. It isn't his fault.
Anyway, we have 60 days to clean up the mess. Ireland is working on the "initialization" thing tonight even though she has to leave for Pakistan on Saturday at 3 in the morning and has loads to do before then. I got the task of getting an official diploma for my master's degree to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the US, so they can send it to UAE, because without it I won't get a residence visa (I was like can't I just get a copy of the one I have, and V, horrified, said "a COPY?" as though I were suggesting giving Audrey Hepburn a knockoff birkin or something). In the mean time, the scope of my job here is expanding rapidly. But that's a good thing.
I finished my day at the Abu Dhabi co-op, a store that's like Target, but better. The push carts are beautifully painted, there's everything in the world there, and I bought a bag of cherries that must have come straight from Malatya. I also bought a box of something that I'm really, really hoping turns out to be coconut cookies. Though, the box could contain something else. I hope it isn't a facial. I once bought what I thought was going to be a bag of dried strawberries in Greece, only to find out a week after I opened and ate the contents (which I assumed to be some kind of yogurt) that it was a facial. I found out when I brought another bag in to the office to have for breakfast during a meeting - yes, I did that in front of a customer.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
note to luggage: next time I want a post card
My lost luggage showed up today, after taking a short vacation in Brazil. I don't know how my luggage got routed to Brazil from Heathrow, but the tag was still on my bag when I picked it up from the front desk at Le M this evening. And, contrary to my dad's fears, nothing appears to be missing.
Today was a busy day at the office. Ireland was gone all morning because our idiot company first failed to copy and paste the correct text that Ireland had sent them into her visa request for Pakistan (she leaves Sunday). Then they did the copy and paste correctly, but failed to stamp the letter. She received it 20 minutes before the Pakistani embassy closed. When I saw her this evening she was in a bad mood because of her foot. The bruising is really setting in and it looks marvellous. She told me after it happened at the wedding she took one of those champagne buckets, filled it with ice, stuck her foot in it and prayed her parents wouldn't walk by and see her. It's almost like we're twins, separated at birth.
When I got in this morning I decided to move to a new desk because I didn't like the ethernet cord at my original desk (it's black, yuck, I only use the blue ones). The desk was kind of dirty so I asked the office manager where I might get some cleaning supplies. She looked at me, horrified, and said "you can't clean the desk!" I thought maybe that was for religious reasons, and decided I would sneak clean it while she was at lunch, but then I heard her telling our "office boy" to clean my desk.
The office boy is a very sweet skeletal little youngster. Yesterday he was so afraid of me that if I entered any part of the office where he was he would scamper away and hide in the supply closet. I told the office manager that I could clean my desk myself, but the office boy had already sprinted in and cleaned it for me. As I thanked him he drew in his breath and made this horrible sound. His eyes got really big. Then he gingerly lifted my water bottle, which he had placed on another desk so he could clean my desk, and placed it exactly where I had set it earlier that morning. Then he covered his ears and ran away.
Well, he'll be in the closet for at least the rest of the morning, I thought to myself. But he came by my desk at lunch to see if I wanted him to bring me some food. I said "what would you recommend I have for lunch?" I guess he didn't know what to say, because he backed away from me slowly, clutching the front of his shirt, and when he got to the door, he ran away again.
A, who is the other architect I will be working with, came in at 4 pm and wanted to talk shop. I was pretty tired, having been working since 730, but we chatted until 6. He gave me a little cactus. He gives all the architects a cactus when they start working his program. I started telling him about my cacti, currently residing with Joe (tammy faye cactus, I miss you!) and he went to his desk and brought me a bigger cactus, with a flower on it. Ireland was like "hey, how come she gets the cactus with a flower on it?" and A said "Do you even know where your cactus is?" Ireland claimed someone stole it, but then A walked over to this cabinet next to Ireland's desk, flung it open, and pulled out the saddest little yellow cactus you've ever seen. Ireland said "I wonder how it got in there?" like it had magically transported itself into the cabinet.
Tomorrow I'm going to Dubai to get my residency visa. And hopefully a new SIM card for my phone. Then Ireland is taking me to the "special" store, where one can procure wine. Important to do before Ramadan starts...
Today was a busy day at the office. Ireland was gone all morning because our idiot company first failed to copy and paste the correct text that Ireland had sent them into her visa request for Pakistan (she leaves Sunday). Then they did the copy and paste correctly, but failed to stamp the letter. She received it 20 minutes before the Pakistani embassy closed. When I saw her this evening she was in a bad mood because of her foot. The bruising is really setting in and it looks marvellous. She told me after it happened at the wedding she took one of those champagne buckets, filled it with ice, stuck her foot in it and prayed her parents wouldn't walk by and see her. It's almost like we're twins, separated at birth.
When I got in this morning I decided to move to a new desk because I didn't like the ethernet cord at my original desk (it's black, yuck, I only use the blue ones). The desk was kind of dirty so I asked the office manager where I might get some cleaning supplies. She looked at me, horrified, and said "you can't clean the desk!" I thought maybe that was for religious reasons, and decided I would sneak clean it while she was at lunch, but then I heard her telling our "office boy" to clean my desk.
The office boy is a very sweet skeletal little youngster. Yesterday he was so afraid of me that if I entered any part of the office where he was he would scamper away and hide in the supply closet. I told the office manager that I could clean my desk myself, but the office boy had already sprinted in and cleaned it for me. As I thanked him he drew in his breath and made this horrible sound. His eyes got really big. Then he gingerly lifted my water bottle, which he had placed on another desk so he could clean my desk, and placed it exactly where I had set it earlier that morning. Then he covered his ears and ran away.
Well, he'll be in the closet for at least the rest of the morning, I thought to myself. But he came by my desk at lunch to see if I wanted him to bring me some food. I said "what would you recommend I have for lunch?" I guess he didn't know what to say, because he backed away from me slowly, clutching the front of his shirt, and when he got to the door, he ran away again.
A, who is the other architect I will be working with, came in at 4 pm and wanted to talk shop. I was pretty tired, having been working since 730, but we chatted until 6. He gave me a little cactus. He gives all the architects a cactus when they start working his program. I started telling him about my cacti, currently residing with Joe (tammy faye cactus, I miss you!) and he went to his desk and brought me a bigger cactus, with a flower on it. Ireland was like "hey, how come she gets the cactus with a flower on it?" and A said "Do you even know where your cactus is?" Ireland claimed someone stole it, but then A walked over to this cabinet next to Ireland's desk, flung it open, and pulled out the saddest little yellow cactus you've ever seen. Ireland said "I wonder how it got in there?" like it had magically transported itself into the cabinet.
Tomorrow I'm going to Dubai to get my residency visa. And hopefully a new SIM card for my phone. Then Ireland is taking me to the "special" store, where one can procure wine. Important to do before Ramadan starts...
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
dude, where's my bag?
My flight from Denver to Heathrow reminded me why I never fly american carriers overseas. Besides being packed the service was horrible. If the US government is going to give money to the auto industry, why not also give the airlines a subsidy so I don't have to pay for wine on my flight?
The carrier I took to Abu Dhabi, Etihad, was ornately decorated and very, very small. I ended up in the second seat in a row of four seats, sandwiched between a guy from Pakistan who didn't really want to be sitting next to a western woman, and a woman from Iraq (I know where they were from because I saw their passports). Her husband had the other end seat. I'm not sure if they purposely don't let women sit in the aisles, but I didn't see any women with an aisle seat.
The guy from Iraq seemed a little crazy. He kept having these uncontrollable outbursts, where he would suddenly shout things like "there's a little problem here! a LITTLE problem!" in arabic. He would also lean over and tap his wife's tv screen, causing it to switch to another channel. Then they would start wrestling. Not a conducive environment for sleeping. Of course, with three little kids under the age of 8 sitting in front of me, I probably wouldn't have slept anyway. They had worked out a very efficient schedule where one would start crying as soon as one would stop. Hard to believe anyone could cry for 8 hours...
The crying started because of the Iraqi guy. One of the kids, a 3 year old red headed girl, stuck her head over her seat and looked at the Iraqi guy, prompting him to yell, in English "HI! What are you? Fine? What name you!" He then burped loudly right in her face. She started to cry. But apparently didn't learn her lesson, because she kept peeking over the seat at him and the same scene would repeat (except the burping, which appeared to be happening spontaneously throughout the flight rather than being triggered by any particular event).
Weirdly, when we were about to land, all the lights went down on the plane and then our tv screens showed footage from the plane's camera, so we could see ourselves landing. Everyone stared at the screens transfixed, including myself. It was kind of disconcerting to see the plane bouncing across the runway, but at the same time kind of cool.
After what seemed like hours I made it to the door of the plane, stepped out on the stairs, and was hit in the face with a hot wind that was so strong it blew me backwards. I knew it was going to be hot here, but didn't realize it would be so windy. Everyone was having problems getting down the stairs because of the wind.
Arriving at 1 in the morning is a good time. I breezed through customs. Everyone else was getting hassled but the guy took one look at my blond hair, smiled at me, and stamped my passport. They also did a retinal scan, which was kind of weird.
Then I got to baggage claim and realized that Etihad is arabic for "we forgot your luggage". I waited for an hour while these Etihad agents ran all around the baggage claims looking for my bags. I was told by everyone in the office lost luggage from Heathrow flying Etihad is more commonplace than having luggage that arrives. My backpack with my climbing and diving gear arrived, but unfortunately TSA forgot to rezip the zippers after searching it, so I lost all of my emergen-c and green tea. Insert explicative here.
I had to fill out a report, and by that time it was 2 in the morning. I wandered out into the main airport area only to find all of the ATMs and money changers shut down. I was like great, no money, need a cab to the airport, I'm exhausted, what the hell am I going to do? I finally talked a driver into taking me to the hotel and got the hotel to pay him. One thing is definitely true about this place...they are all about service. And incredibly kind. They even gave me an adapter, for free, at the front desk since the one I brought didn't work.
I finally got to bed at 3 in the morning, and rolled into the office a little late. Everyone I met today was extremely nice. And I can tell the Irish woman I'll be working with and I are going to get along great. First, she wears flip flops to the office (and I can too - hooray!). Second, she had her foot wrapped, and when I asked what happened she said that she was at her brother's wedding back in Ireland a few days ago, dancing barefoot, and someone stepped on her foot with a stiletto. I tried not to smile, because that sounds like an injury I would get, and she said "I had to get shots, you know". And finally, she said "thank god there's someone else in the office that drinks wine". She was disappointed that I didn't get any at the airport, but, it was 2 in the morning, and I wasn't thinking straight.
In any case, it appears I will spend my time here living out of the Le Meridien hotel. I go to Dubai on Thursday to get my residence visa, and will possibly go to the AF base first thing next week. And I have a training class scheduled for the end of next week. I have a feeling I could stay here a long time and never run out of work.
Hopefully tomorrow my bag will show up. In the mean time, I took Irish's advice and ordered dinner in. I hope to get more sleep tonight.
The carrier I took to Abu Dhabi, Etihad, was ornately decorated and very, very small. I ended up in the second seat in a row of four seats, sandwiched between a guy from Pakistan who didn't really want to be sitting next to a western woman, and a woman from Iraq (I know where they were from because I saw their passports). Her husband had the other end seat. I'm not sure if they purposely don't let women sit in the aisles, but I didn't see any women with an aisle seat.
The guy from Iraq seemed a little crazy. He kept having these uncontrollable outbursts, where he would suddenly shout things like "there's a little problem here! a LITTLE problem!" in arabic. He would also lean over and tap his wife's tv screen, causing it to switch to another channel. Then they would start wrestling. Not a conducive environment for sleeping. Of course, with three little kids under the age of 8 sitting in front of me, I probably wouldn't have slept anyway. They had worked out a very efficient schedule where one would start crying as soon as one would stop. Hard to believe anyone could cry for 8 hours...
The crying started because of the Iraqi guy. One of the kids, a 3 year old red headed girl, stuck her head over her seat and looked at the Iraqi guy, prompting him to yell, in English "HI! What are you? Fine? What name you!" He then burped loudly right in her face. She started to cry. But apparently didn't learn her lesson, because she kept peeking over the seat at him and the same scene would repeat (except the burping, which appeared to be happening spontaneously throughout the flight rather than being triggered by any particular event).
Weirdly, when we were about to land, all the lights went down on the plane and then our tv screens showed footage from the plane's camera, so we could see ourselves landing. Everyone stared at the screens transfixed, including myself. It was kind of disconcerting to see the plane bouncing across the runway, but at the same time kind of cool.
After what seemed like hours I made it to the door of the plane, stepped out on the stairs, and was hit in the face with a hot wind that was so strong it blew me backwards. I knew it was going to be hot here, but didn't realize it would be so windy. Everyone was having problems getting down the stairs because of the wind.
Arriving at 1 in the morning is a good time. I breezed through customs. Everyone else was getting hassled but the guy took one look at my blond hair, smiled at me, and stamped my passport. They also did a retinal scan, which was kind of weird.
Then I got to baggage claim and realized that Etihad is arabic for "we forgot your luggage". I waited for an hour while these Etihad agents ran all around the baggage claims looking for my bags. I was told by everyone in the office lost luggage from Heathrow flying Etihad is more commonplace than having luggage that arrives. My backpack with my climbing and diving gear arrived, but unfortunately TSA forgot to rezip the zippers after searching it, so I lost all of my emergen-c and green tea. Insert explicative here.
I had to fill out a report, and by that time it was 2 in the morning. I wandered out into the main airport area only to find all of the ATMs and money changers shut down. I was like great, no money, need a cab to the airport, I'm exhausted, what the hell am I going to do? I finally talked a driver into taking me to the hotel and got the hotel to pay him. One thing is definitely true about this place...they are all about service. And incredibly kind. They even gave me an adapter, for free, at the front desk since the one I brought didn't work.
I finally got to bed at 3 in the morning, and rolled into the office a little late. Everyone I met today was extremely nice. And I can tell the Irish woman I'll be working with and I are going to get along great. First, she wears flip flops to the office (and I can too - hooray!). Second, she had her foot wrapped, and when I asked what happened she said that she was at her brother's wedding back in Ireland a few days ago, dancing barefoot, and someone stepped on her foot with a stiletto. I tried not to smile, because that sounds like an injury I would get, and she said "I had to get shots, you know". And finally, she said "thank god there's someone else in the office that drinks wine". She was disappointed that I didn't get any at the airport, but, it was 2 in the morning, and I wasn't thinking straight.
In any case, it appears I will spend my time here living out of the Le Meridien hotel. I go to Dubai on Thursday to get my residence visa, and will possibly go to the AF base first thing next week. And I have a training class scheduled for the end of next week. I have a feeling I could stay here a long time and never run out of work.
Hopefully tomorrow my bag will show up. In the mean time, I took Irish's advice and ordered dinner in. I hope to get more sleep tonight.
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