Today I was sitting in my cube drawing a data model and trying to drown out the conversation around me. With all the euros back from vacation I felt like I was in a Wallace and Gromit cartoon. They were complaining about having to work a 10 hour day right after getting back from vacation.
I was also a little worried because my base pass has expired and my colleague AH had taken all of my paperwork to get a new one. If security came by to check everyone's papers I was going to be in trouble.
So when a high ranking commando in cammos walked into the office I tried to pretend to be really busy so he wouldn't notice me. But he walked right up to my desk. He said something like "are you Franki?", but he couldn't pronounce my name, so that isn't quite what he said (my name is as hard for them to say as theirs are for me). I turned around and noticed he had two guns strapped outside his uniform. Uh oh, I thought. Conversation in the room ceased as everyone was well aware I didn't have my base pass.
I admitted to being me, and then saw he was also carrying two plastic bags. One had what appeared to be a sippy cup full of something pink (for reasons I'll never understand, people here put drinks in plastic bags, and then hand them to you, causing the drink to spill inside the bag and the cup to get all sticky). The other bag had something oblong in it.
He said "strawberry is heavy, watermelon is light, so light for you" and he handed me the sippy cup. It contained watermelon juice. Then he said "I present you." He handed me the other bag. "A meat sandwich". Though I've had guys say and do many strange things around me, I've never had one give me a present of a meat sandwich. I must have looked confused. He said "with hummus". I nodded and smiled as if I understood exactly what was going on, and thanked him. He did an abrupt about face and left the room.
It turns out my colleague AH put this guy up to delivering me a lamb sandwich, I think because he was tired of listening to me whine about how much weight I lost during ramadan (gained back a total of 7 lbs as of today). But then it was like the flood gates opened. After I finished the sandwich another guy in the office brought me falafel balls. The little french twits that sit near me were like "oh, did you see that dog outside?" as I bit into one (admittedly, it did look like poo).
Then my colleague brought me a lunch box from this Saudi restaurant. It had two huge pieces of fish, more rice than one person could eat in a day, yogurt sauce, something like salsa but not, and a salad. It will probably take me three more lunches to finish it.
One thing I'm learning is that in general arabs are very hospitable and generous. And if you show the least amount of gratitude they will go over the top to do even more for you. The other day I was walking with two of my colleagues who had both offered, in spite of my refusals, to carry my bag and one finally said "This is embarrassing. You are with two men and you are carrying your laptop. If anyone sees us they are going to wonder what kind of men we are to make you carry your own bag."
Now I'm thinking. Could I have been getting these guys to drive me around, get me food, and carry my stuff all this time? Hm. I wonder how long it will take me to turn into a total prima donna in these conditions.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
more meridien madness
Saturday
I woke up at 7 am because my hotel phone was ringing. Of course I didn't answer it but instead decided to get up, eat some oatmeal, and read my book in bed.
An hour later I heard some fumbling outside my hotel door, and then a swishing sound. I went over to the door to see what was going on, and there was an envelope addressed to "Annie". Always curious to read other people's mail, I opened the letter. It was actually for me. The letter stated I had to move out of my room by 10 am "to accommodate another guest".
I figured this was a trick to get me out of my nice room into a room I wouldn't like so I called the front desk. They told me there was a handicap guest coming to the hotel that needed my room. Apparently they had asked all the other people on my hall and no one was willing to move. I agreed to move and they gave me a new room number.
I packed up my stuff and went to the beach. When I came back I picked up a key for my new room, went in, and discovered the air conditioning in my room didn't work. I discovered this because it was like a million billion degrees in my room.
They sent someone up to fix the problem. I went to the gym for two hours. Came back, and waited another two hours. The room was still boiling hot. So I packed up my stuff again, and this time was relocated to a really nice room one floor above with a private balcony overlooking the beach. Very nice.
Except, the hot water didn't work. I took a shower around midnight and almost froze.
Sunday
Before going to the gym in the morning, I asked the front desk to fix the water problem. It wasn't fixed by the end of the day. So they made me pack my stuff up again, at 6 pm, and moved me back to the room with the non-working air-conditioning. The bell hop who was hauling my stuff around turned the thermostat down to 12 degrees C and the room cooled off. Somewhat.
Monday
I decided living with cold water was better than living with no air-conditioning. So I packed up my stuff, again, and moved back to my room on the third floor. After I moved I realized that the water temperature knobs were installed incorrectly and realized that was why I had no hot water.
So now I have a room I like, with a private balcony, that's quieter than my last room, and won't have to move until I leave for Canada at the end of October.
If I could only get them to clean out my mini bar so I had a refrigerator...
I woke up at 7 am because my hotel phone was ringing. Of course I didn't answer it but instead decided to get up, eat some oatmeal, and read my book in bed.
An hour later I heard some fumbling outside my hotel door, and then a swishing sound. I went over to the door to see what was going on, and there was an envelope addressed to "Annie". Always curious to read other people's mail, I opened the letter. It was actually for me. The letter stated I had to move out of my room by 10 am "to accommodate another guest".
I figured this was a trick to get me out of my nice room into a room I wouldn't like so I called the front desk. They told me there was a handicap guest coming to the hotel that needed my room. Apparently they had asked all the other people on my hall and no one was willing to move. I agreed to move and they gave me a new room number.
I packed up my stuff and went to the beach. When I came back I picked up a key for my new room, went in, and discovered the air conditioning in my room didn't work. I discovered this because it was like a million billion degrees in my room.
They sent someone up to fix the problem. I went to the gym for two hours. Came back, and waited another two hours. The room was still boiling hot. So I packed up my stuff again, and this time was relocated to a really nice room one floor above with a private balcony overlooking the beach. Very nice.
Except, the hot water didn't work. I took a shower around midnight and almost froze.
Sunday
Before going to the gym in the morning, I asked the front desk to fix the water problem. It wasn't fixed by the end of the day. So they made me pack my stuff up again, at 6 pm, and moved me back to the room with the non-working air-conditioning. The bell hop who was hauling my stuff around turned the thermostat down to 12 degrees C and the room cooled off. Somewhat.
Monday
I decided living with cold water was better than living with no air-conditioning. So I packed up my stuff, again, and moved back to my room on the third floor. After I moved I realized that the water temperature knobs were installed incorrectly and realized that was why I had no hot water.
So now I have a room I like, with a private balcony, that's quieter than my last room, and won't have to move until I leave for Canada at the end of October.
If I could only get them to clean out my mini bar so I had a refrigerator...
etisalat epic
Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that, with a few exceptions, I never answer or talk on the phone. But here everyone lives by their mobile, and it isn't uncommon in the middle of an important meeting for someone to answer their phone and carry on a conversation (this happens in movie theaters as well, from what I've read in the papers).
So, being without a phone here is considered the worst possible existence. My phone stopped working on Thursday, though. I couldn't figure out what was wrong and then AH told me I had run out of money. No problem, I thought, I'll just add money using my online account.
I did that Thursday afternoon and then was swept up in my hotel room epic so I never got a chance to test my phone until Friday. It wasn't working. I called etisalat, the phone company here, to find out what was wrong. They couldn't tell me over the phone but instead kept sending me text messages in arabic that I couldn't read. I tried to find someone in the hotel that could read them but no luck.
Finally, while waiting in line at the co-op with a bag full of nectarines on Saturday, I got a guy in line behind me to read the message. It turns out etisalat changed their policy a week ago so they no longer allow foreign credit cards to be used on line to add minutes to their phones. I was like how do I get my phone to work? He told me to buy a card to add minutes.
Seemed simple enough. I got a card and followed the instructions on adding minutes to my phone. All I had to do, according to the directions, was type in the number on the card and the minutes would be added. But every time I did that I got an error message that the number I entered was invalid. Meanwhile my colleagues here were getting aggravated with me because I never answer my phone and couldn't respond back to text messages. I tried to go back to the co-op to enquire what was wrong with my card, but it was closed for Eid.
Finally, I was sitting in my lebanese pizza place waiting for my food and the girl at the cash register told me that I had to scratch off this silver band on the card to get the number to add the minutes. How I would have known that if someone hadn't told me remains a mystery. Anyway, my phone is working again after 4 days.
Although no one is texting me anymore. I'm sad.
Not really :D
So, being without a phone here is considered the worst possible existence. My phone stopped working on Thursday, though. I couldn't figure out what was wrong and then AH told me I had run out of money. No problem, I thought, I'll just add money using my online account.
I did that Thursday afternoon and then was swept up in my hotel room epic so I never got a chance to test my phone until Friday. It wasn't working. I called etisalat, the phone company here, to find out what was wrong. They couldn't tell me over the phone but instead kept sending me text messages in arabic that I couldn't read. I tried to find someone in the hotel that could read them but no luck.
Finally, while waiting in line at the co-op with a bag full of nectarines on Saturday, I got a guy in line behind me to read the message. It turns out etisalat changed their policy a week ago so they no longer allow foreign credit cards to be used on line to add minutes to their phones. I was like how do I get my phone to work? He told me to buy a card to add minutes.
Seemed simple enough. I got a card and followed the instructions on adding minutes to my phone. All I had to do, according to the directions, was type in the number on the card and the minutes would be added. But every time I did that I got an error message that the number I entered was invalid. Meanwhile my colleagues here were getting aggravated with me because I never answer my phone and couldn't respond back to text messages. I tried to go back to the co-op to enquire what was wrong with my card, but it was closed for Eid.
Finally, I was sitting in my lebanese pizza place waiting for my food and the girl at the cash register told me that I had to scratch off this silver band on the card to get the number to add the minutes. How I would have known that if someone hadn't told me remains a mystery. Anyway, my phone is working again after 4 days.
Although no one is texting me anymore. I'm sad.
Not really :D
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