It's National day in Dubai. Watch out on the roads!

The 40th anniversary of it's founding is reason for any country to celebrate. Flags, parties, fireworks... And in Dubai it all happens in the middle of the road. Dubai traffic police is trying to reign things in this year, so the following advice appeared in Gulf News. 

• Follow traffic rules. 
  
• Don't stick posters on car windows that block the view.
  
• Don't stick your head out of windows or dance on the bonnets of you car as this could lead to accidents.
  
• Do not carry more than the number of people usually allowed in a vehicle.
  
• Motorists are strongly urged not to change the colours of their vehicles or tint the windshield beyond the accepted limit.
  
• Don't create chaos on the streets.
  
• Car number plates should not be concealed with decorations and or be spray-painted over.
  
• Motorists should not blow their horns continuously or add devices that increase noise. 
  
• Stopping the vehicle in the middle of the road to talk to others creates traffic jams and should be avoided.
  
• Don't blockade the road with spontaneous parades or celebrations. 

Reading this on the plane made me think that Dubai traffic police may be a little over cautious and pessimistic regarding people's traffic sense, but judging by the behavious I saw on the road this weekend I am glad that they are on the ball. 

Sudan Roundup

Sudan was country number 10. We well and truly left Africa and returned to the more familiar bosom of the Arab World. It was pleasant to be somewhere familiar after the sweaty otherness of East Africa and the complete alien culture of Ethiopia. To be honest, we raced through Sudan, despite being given a four week pass. There are no ATMs in Sudan, so we had limited amounts of money to spend, plus we had to catch an earlier ferry than we had planned due to the Eid al Ahra holiday. We entered Sudan halfway upcountry with the Nile, took two long driving days to Khartoum, spend a few days in Khartoum and a few dawdly days more or less following the Nile north to the edge of Lake Nasser, seeking out the remains of the Kushite empire. Then we left on the adventure that is the Wadi Halfa ferry.

From Ethiopia the terrain changed completely. After weeks of cool and populated mountains we were back at 500 m altitude and a landscape that is endlessly flat and monotonously yellow and red. The soil is a fertile dark brown where it is irrigated, vast harvested fields running to the horizon. Northwards desert proper begins, black rockscapes on fine red sand. The Nile winds its way through this barrenness, providing a sweep of green and blue in the monotony. Alongside its water life is possible, endless stretches of habitation reliant on the fields and date farms kept alive by pumps and donkey power. Always within reach of the river, but separate, set into the silence of the sands, temples and pyramids of the Kushite civilisation. Rulers of Nubia and for a while, Egypt, the Kushites left sandblasted ruins which German archaeologists are attempting to rescue before they fade into the desert. Pointy pyramids modelled on Giza (but smaller, steeper and altogether different, as if the blueprints were transmitted by Chinese whispers) erupt by the side of the road along with exquisitely decorated temples proclaiming the superiority of the local kings and queens.

Sudan was big earthenware jugs provided as a public water supply, regular features of the road; low mud brick houses enclosed by decorated walls to keep out wind and sand; heat making the asphalt glassy and reflective like a mirror held up to the scorching sky, oncoming trucks wavering in the mirage, seemingly floating. It was camping in the desert again at last, solitude and stars galore, just as soon as we found a place where we wouldn’t get stuck. It was good roads (built by the Chinese to access Sudan’s natural resources, as in Ethiopia), allowing us to drive all day and make good distance. It was also the worst possible traffic snarl I have ever encountered, proving that Khartoum is up there with Dubai, Nairobi and Chennai, filled with lunatic drivers. Sudan was too short (don’t I say that about all our countries?), but it made a powerful impression.

While the panorama was unchallenging to our desert-proven eyes, our human encounters offered unexpected surprises: There was Ahmed the assured money changer in Wad Madani’s gold souq, dispensing cash and foul with equal aplomb; hospitable Magdi at Wadi Halfa who put us up in his new house for the duration; the casual acquaintance we encountered at the petrol station out of Khartoum, who invited us to stay with him for a few days - another time maybe! Such kindness, such honesty and simple friendliness. After the incessant press of people in East Africa and before the anticipated rapaciousness of the Egyptians, what a breath of fresh air to be treated like friends.

And then there were the variously vehicled overlanders we came across: American cyclists Mary and Greg, the Irish bike riders who insisted on completing their Cairo to Cape (or rather Addis to Cape, then fly back to Addis to cycle to Cairo), the Belgian boys on their way South, eager for GPS co-ordinates and information on road conditions, and fortuitously, on the roadside, Monty the Landrover, whose blog is giving us all the info we need to get through Egypt and onwards. Not to forget the crowd of Algerian footie supporters before and after their victory over Egypt, a nicer group of sober football fans you couldn’t hope to meet.

It feels as if Africa is over, and we are entering a new phase in our journey. We have acquired a new travel companion and decided to brave the Middle East route rather than the ferry to Italy, so the drive onwards will be both longer and more interesting. Of course, as of today we are still carless, so right now we are not going anywhere, but as soon as we do, you will know all about it.

Skype is good for travellers

I can't begin to explain in how many ways Skype is keeping us connected right now and how much we are going to rely on it on the trip. We have had an account with Skype for years, although we had a bumpy start when they ate some credit of mine a few years back. But lately it has got more and more handy.

To start with we use SkypeIn, which gives us three local numbers in different countries. We have a landline number in Germany my family can call, one in the UK for Stuart's family and our friends, and one in Wellington for Merryl's gang and everyone we keep in touch with there. This means that people in those countries only have to call a landline in their country, not the expensive South African number. As a result people actually call us, which makes us feel more wanted ;-)

The money we spent on a Skype phone that doubles as a landline (it's hands-free and the base station connects to the router. Looks just like a normal phone) has been so worth it. All our international calls go through SkypeOut, where we pay a monthly fee for free calls to lots of countries. Stuart can make his conference calls, I can chat with my mum - brilliant. The phone displays all the Skype contacts which sync with Addressbook on the Mac, so we don't have to type in numbers. It also displays voicemails and any missed calls we receive via Skype. This alone has made it so much easier to use Skype to make calls. Before I was never logged in on the computer at the right time, and the sound quality is just like a normal landline call without having to dig out the headphones.

When we are on the road, we will have a satellite phone for emergencies, but people will still be able to leave us messages on voicemail, and since we get an email notification we can actually respond when anyone pings us. I am also hoping that we will be able to make use of Skype on the iPhone when we are at a hotel or other place with wifi.

I know this all sounds like a sales pitch, but after years of not really seeing the point (we had 2 hour long international calls for NZ$5 from New Zealand and pretty cheap rates from Dubai to most of Europe, so weren't too bothered so far) I am now a total convert. The only problem is that calls to Dubai are still really expensive, so it's not been an option to call anyone there.

Dubai bashing

I haven't lived in Dubai for years now, but left with great difficulty and judging by my continuing interest in Dubai news I guess I still love the place. There is much Dubai bashing going on lately, fuelled by this article in the New York Times, it seems. While some of the facts are disputed already (apparently the figure of 3000 cars abandoned at Dubai airport is misrepresented and the number of cancelled visas is not offset by the number of new visas granted) it is most interesting to me to find this tone of Schadenfreude levelled at a Middle Eastern success story. As if it was somehow just that one of the few Arab economic successes should fail. Do we prefer the alternatives of repressive financial basket cases such as Egypt and Pakistan? This article is another rant at the perceived shallowness of Dubai and it's inherent unsustainability, entertaining even if I disagree, but with the best commenting I have ever read in a blog, ever.

I'm in love...

The answer to all my prayers, well at least the ones revolving around cheap international calls, is called SkypeIn online numbers. With the power of the internets, a Skype enabled phone on a local landline and a monthly fee I now have three local phone numbers (New Zealand, UK and Germany) where our friends can reach us without having to endure horrendous international charges. And we can, using the Skype phone, make free calls to landlines in lots of countries with great sound quality - I don't think my mum has noticed that I am calling her over Skype) for that same monthly fee. Yay! (Except for Dubai, which still costs shed loads for some reason, probably to do with Etisalat). So if you live in one of those countries and want to call me, email me and I'll let you have my number.

Spot the Landrover

Can you see it? Of course not, silly. This is the very ship the Landrover is travelling to South Africa on. Let's hope there aren't any pirates or out of control oil tankers to hold it up.

Vodaphone rant

With every house move there has to be a rant, because the least fun job when leaving a country is the cancellation of bills and accounts. Water rates, rent, car insurance, tax, landline phone, internet, mobiles... I could go on. Cancelling involves navigating through imprenetable websites, waiting for hours on the phone to atrocious hold music, sending letters and visiting dingy offices.

The prize for most ridiculous excuse for refusing to cancel a contract so far goes to Vodafone New Zealand. Vodafone has a track record for flakiness, cancelling international roaming just as I leave for Australia or changing contract details without notification, inevitably resulting in endless calls to the outsourced call centre. From the beginning, despite signing a contract in person in the shop, my bills said "Mr.". Knowing the haphazard results from calls, I never bothered changing it. When I called to cancel my account today I was informed that I could not do this because I was not male as per the account details. The fact that I know the date of birth, password and any other details was to no avail. Even the supervisor was adamant that they would see my passport in person to verify my gender. The back and forth went on for so long that I was starting to doubt my identity at the end.

Oh well. I guess I will be trying to find a male who can make the call for me. It's almost like being back in the Middle East...

About time

With a ruler who is a warrior (he used to be minister of defence) and also a poet, this was only a matter of time. Behold, the Dubai Poetry Festival.

My favourite comment:

"shopping malls in Dubai will witness unprecedented ancient poetical activity that used to take place in the old times among Arab," he said, adding, "people used to gather and exchange, talk and challenge each others, using the language of poetry, and such phenomenon will be resurrected in Dubai, during the poetry festival."

navigating around

After years of resistance - and living in countries where I either knew my way around or where the road system was transitory, to say the least - I have finally succumbed to using a GPS navigator for the car (a "Navi" in German). It has made me aware of and transformed my hesitancy of getting around in South Africa, and made me more adventurous about using back roads in New Zealand.

Ever since we talked about going to Johannesburg we have been getting aghast looks and dire warnings about the danger of being out on the road in the murder capital of the World. Advice has ranged from keeping all doors locked and never going out after dark, to keeping a car length space at traffic lights so that in the case of a car jacking attempt it is possible to swerve past the car in front. It has made me hesitant to drive on my own. To be fair, the first few weeks in the crazy traffic of Dubai were pretty nerve-wracking, but there the issue was confined to being accidentalyy in on purpose being rammed by a speeding Landcruiser, not robbed and murdered on the open road, as people have been predicting.

All this has changed now that I have the dulcet tones of Sally the navigator telling me to "in 200 metres turn left" and "recalculating" when I miss a junction. She is amazingly easy to program and even lets me download my routes to my Mac when I return so I always knew where I went. The fear of getting lost is gone now so I know whatever else happens I will aways find my way home.

on being European

People on first meeting often ask where I am from. A difficult question to answer, or rather a complex answer is required. "Where are you from?" rather than "What nationality are you?" or "Where were you born?" or "Where do you live?" implies a sense of belonging to one location not the current one and maybe even being homesick, i.e. having a home one longs to go back to. I usually don't feel that I have such a home. So the answer usually runs along the lines of: born in Germany, lived in the UK for twenty-odd years, most recently living in x, part of my itinerant life as a corporate wife. Not a short answer by any means.

But the more I travel and live in assorted countries the more I realize where my heritage (although definitely not my home - that is a whole other blog post) is. There is nothing more comfortable to me than walking down some old cobbled street in Stockholm or enter a museum in Paris, find a cafe in Edinburgh or book a hotel room in Amsterdam. I haven't spent any significant amount of time in any of those cities, never lived in those countries, but it still feels easier than locating an rating place in Dubai or a shop in Joburg. Europe is my history, my point of reference, my yardstick however much I think of myself as a World citizen. Really I am just a European.

Blast from the Past: Dubai construction workers

Once I wanted to make a film about a day in the life of a labourer in Dubai. All around us where we lived on Sheikh Zayed Rd were new construction sites and every morning, lunch time and evening we saw endless groups of blue/green/orange-clad young men either appearing from dusty buses or waiting to board them to go back to wherever they spent their nights. It turned out to be impossibly difficult to make contact, find willing subjects or gain access to the sites and hostels where they live. Most documentaries I saw about Dubai mentioned the poor working and living conditions of imported labour on construction in the UAE, but even the BBC didn't seem to be able to get access to show real live footage.

Now a Guardian reporter seems to have been able to do the impossible, and report on it without condescension or hand-wringing: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/oct/08/middleeast.construction

It makes me feel better that this injustice is finally being made visible.

The End

The day has finally come when we leave Dubai.

Moving to New Zealand is turning out to be a drawn-out process. We moved out of the flat in Capricorn Tower three weeks ago, with the help of Crowne - again, and after a serious clear-out. It will take two months for our belongings to arrive in Wellington after a journey by container ship via Singapore, so we decided to pack up early. I hated leaving our amazing flat and still miss the view down Sheik Zayed Rd every day. We spent our remaining time - until Stuart finished working at DIFX - living at Donna's house in Jumeirah, which also helped enormously with the editing of the documentary. Donna looked after us magnificiently, and we have never eaten so well.

The hardest part was saying goodbye to the friends we've made. Even after the leaving-do Claire and Carla arranged for us on the Dhow at Mina Seyahi we still had a host of lunches and dinners organised. It was so good to see everyone again for one more time, and I realised how many fabulous people we got to know during our time here, a whole Dubai family.

This is the last entry in this particular blog. My intention in writing it was to show what our life was like here in Dubai, to dispel some of the myths about expat life in the Middle East and to keep in touch with our friends in Europe (and elsewhere). Still, if you are interested in our adventures Down Under, Stuart is taking over and has already started his blog. Much more technologically advanced, it features an RSS feed so that you can make use of your news reader to keep up to date with us. Go there now!

Goodbye!

The last desert trip

We are doing lots of things for the last time in Dubai now. Mark and Martina are here, so for our last desert drive before it's too hot, and before we move on, we chose to go to Liwa oasis.

Liwa is in the far south of the UAE, on the border with Saudi Arabia. It's on the edge of the Rub Al Khali, the Empty Quarter, the biggest sand desert in the World. It reaches all across the Gulf peninsula up to Jordan and down to Jemen. We were planning to drive alongside the main track through the dunes and then maybe head over to Al Ain and into the mountains, a week-long escape from Dubai traffic into the quiet emptiness.

Stuart's Favourite Location, out in the Nowhere

So we packed the cars with food for a week, spare fuel and two jerrycans of water, sleeping bags and tents. We set off about lunchtime at a slow relaxed pace on the way to Abu Dhabi, then turned left and headed inland on a road as straight as if drawn with a ruler. 100 km further we hit Liwa oasis, a crescent-shaped line of ragged houses lining the road in between vast fields of vegetables and alfalfa.

Liwa Road, Plantations on Either Side

We struck out into the dunes, as big as we've ever seen, only to get stuck 200 yards of the road. When we couldn't get out after an hour of pushing and shoving, using sand ladders, our new inflatable jack and a lot of elbow grease, we gave up and camped in the lee of a dune.

Definitely Stuck ... But Still Enjoying the View

The next morning we went for help with the Range Rover, which wasn't stuck, and found some rope and a man with a rickety Landcruiser van who kindly helped us to get out. After that we were more careful. Obviously the combination of softer sand and a heavier car (more people and gear) meant we could not be quite as gung-ho as we normally are.

Mark's First Desert Birthday

We spent a few extremely quiet and peaceful days roaming the Liwa dunes, and then wanted to move on to Al Ain via the inland route, but were turned back at the halfway point by a fence and some intractable UAE border guards. The area is sensitive for various reasons, it being the location for oil drilling as well as a badly maintained border to Saudi. We had to make do with the long way round via Abu Dhabi and the coast road.

At Al Ain we visited Jebel Hafeet again, mostly to make use of the pool after four days of washing with a thin jet of water from the pump. What bliss to jump into endless gallons of it!

Martina is relishing the fact that there is water EVERYWHERE!

We continued on explore some of the campsites in the Al Ain area we hadn't got to before, found a beautiful waterfall and a great remote plateau overlooking the Hatta mountains, but were severely disappointed by the amount of rubbish left by previous visitors and blown in on the wind. It's an ongoing problem here, there is a general disregard for the natural environment and many people just leave their crap behind regardless of the mess they've created. We have taken to always carry rubbish bags to at least collect and dispose of what we can even if we didn't bring it.

The View across Hatta and the Waterfall

We spent the last night at our favourite spot near Hatta in a wadi far off the main track. There are pools there and at night it's quiet with endless stars.

Stuart resigns!

Finally we can talk about it. Stuart is leaving DIFX and we are leaving Dubai to move to..

...wait for it: New Zealand. Stuart has taken a job at the New Zealand Stock Exchange in Wellington starting in June. We've been planning the move for a while now, which is why we had a seemingly ill-considered one week holiday in New Zealand in February. This involved an 18 hour flight, 2 changes of plane and mucho jetlag. But it was worth it, because it's easiest to decide to live in a place by making a gut decision when visiting rather than through theoretical research from afar. So we are now in official packing and decimating crap mode. Lucky for us my mum is here. She is a champ at organising and labelling. Crown is doing the moving for us again, which means getting a load of paperwork together (including everything needed to export/import the Landrover, Stuart is not going anywhere without it), but at least we don't have to actually pack any boxes. This also means that there is an end in sight for this blog. As it's called "Stuart and Fiver in Dubai" obviously there will be no more soon. There may be a New Zealand blog, you never know...

More Protests - This Time It's The Women

After a series of protests by building workers and taxi drivers over work issues it's now the turn of Emirati women to make their voices heard. Popular democracy?

23 Emirati women staged a protest yesterday at the Ministry of Labour and Social Affairs, according to Gulf News, to complain about the curtailment of their rights after marrying non-nationals. Their main complaint was the fact that their social security payments of 1000 Dirhams had been cut because they were married to working expatriates, despite the fact that some of the husbands were unemployed and some earned as little as 1500 Dirhams.

National women who marry foreigners lose their right to citizenship, their children are not Emirati citizens and therefore have no rights to healthcare, schooling and free university education, as well as other benefits UAE nationals normally enjoy. Children from these marriages can apply for a five year UAE passport, but have to give up the right to their father's nationality. These passports can't be renewed, leaving these children virtually stateless. These restrictions don't apply to National men who marry foreign women.

Kuwaiti Ruler - Which One Is It?

The last few days saw a strange and subtle spectacle play out across the front pages of Gulf News. It announced a different new ruler for Kuwait 4 times in 5 days.

What happened is that the old ruler of Kuwait, Shaikh Jaber Al Ahmad Al Sabah died last week. His successor, in a country ruled by a single family, but with recent moves towards democracy with a parliament and discussions of voting rights for women, was going to be Shaikh Sa'ad Al Abdullah Al Sabah (Shaikh Sa'ad), the crown prince. But parliament wanted to nominate Shaikh Sabah Al Ahmad Al Sabah (Shaikh Sabah), the prime minister, saying that Shaikh Sa'ad was too ill to perform the job. As both Shaikhs belong to the same family, this is obviously an internal struggle between different branches, but the fact that parliament got itself involved is significant. In the region these parliamentary bodies are often not elected and have merely an advisory function. Kuwait has been trying to implement a more democratic system, but is constantly undermined by religious hardliners who see the end of the world as nigh if there is any democratic participation in the political process.

So all week there has been a back and forth between the prime minister's supporters and the branch of the family supporting the crown prince, as witnessed by poor Gulf News who had to reverse the news every day:

Sabah nominated as Kuwait Emir (Saturday)

Kuwait cabinet to replace Sa'ad (Sunday)

Sa'ad to be sworn in as Kuwait Emir tomorrow (Monday)

Kuwait Emir (Sa'ad -ed.) voted out (Wednesday)

Brokeback Mountain

So I bet with Stuart that despite reviews in Time Out the film would never make it to Dubai. Too contentious and too easily ignored.

As it turns out the censors are expecting to review the movie this month and according to 7 Days a source in the censor's office said that they see no roadblocks to passing the film. Considering that homosexual activity is illegal in the UAE and cross-dressers get arrested at private parties, this is a surprising statement. We'll see.

Zaabeel Park

This new park opened last autumn, but it is so difficult to reach due to terrible signage that we only just went there last weekend.

Zaabeel park is just a few minutes bike ride from our house, so an ideal local relaxation spot now that Emirates Towers park has been turned into an impromptu carpark (boo hiss!). We actually went twice. The first time we had to go by car because Stuart's bike had a puncture. Then we fixed it and went again on Sunday. The differences were remarkable: On Friday the place was heaving, every Indian family took the opportunity to have a picnic or a barbeque. On Sunday there were only national families and women with their kids.

The beautifully designed refreshment shops are closed on a Friday, obviously, it being the weekend, but luckily the local corn and candy-floss franchise has enough initiative to provide snacks.

It's a Dangerous Job

Newly released statistics show that workers deaths on construction sites in Dubai have increased again in the last year.

The number of deaths has almost doubled since 2003 from 20 to 39. Non-fatal accidents jumped 66% in the last year from 105 to 175. Most of the deaths are due to falls, collapsing structures, fires and crane accidents.

Interestingly these statistics exclude construction in free zones (a significant proportion of the building work in Dubai), as companies who are based there are not compelled to report accidents on their sites.

Cleaning Windows without a Harness

But apparently safety is increasing, says the Municipality, as the land under construction has almost doubled in the last year, and "most sites have safety signs put up now, for instance." (Fawzi Al Shehi, head of Engineering Supervision Section, Building Department of Dubai Municipality).

In other news there have been more protests of workers who insist that a two day weekend is their right (headlined 'Novel Demand' in Gulf News|). And the story of the 1500 workers who went to file a complaint at the labour ministry in Dubai, partly because the company was locking them out of their accommodation and withholding their labour cards, healthcare and salaries, only to be told that they could not submit a complaint without the labour cards, a copy to be provided by the labour ministry (one for each worker) costing 10 Dirhams each, bringing the cost of the complaint to 10,000 Dirhams.

I discovered a website that seems a good idea, proposing a petition to demand the UAE sign the ILO (International Labour Organisation) convention to allow unionisation.

Eid Al Adha

There are two Eid festivals: one at the end of Ramadan and one to commemorate Ebrahim's offer to slaughter his son as a sacrifice on God's command (sound familiar?).

Part of the Eid Al Adha festival is the slaughter of an animal, with some of the meat donated to charity. This means that for the three days of Eid there is a huge run on local abattoirs, since the government has banned the slaughter of animals in public places. Apparently only 5% of UAE nationals take their animals for slaughter at the abattoir, despite the ban. In the last few years complaints about health hazards due to free-lance butchers working in the street have increased, but the capacity of the slaughter houses has not. This means that even if people are willing to take their animal to the abattoir, they have to queue for hours while free-lance butchers wait outside the slaughterhouses to offer cheaper and quicker service. It's a mess.