Category Archives: Dubai

Silent Sunday: 5k race day

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You might remember that a couple of weeks ago I blogged about regretting signing up for a 5K race on the Palm in Dubai.

Well, I did it! I’m quite proud actually, because I’m honestly not a runner, this was my first race and I truly thought I might be trampled under foot by a pack of joggers.

My DH, who was in charge of the camera, even took a picture of the ambulance, in case I got carted off in it and wanted to blog about it later!

Nearly 4,000 women from 71 different nations took part in the 5km and 10km races, creating a sea of pink along the Palm Jumeirah on Friday

Neck and neck with my mother-in-law: I wasn’t a happy puppy at 5.30am in the morning when the alarm went off, but on the home straight – with the finish line in sight – I managed a smile, despite the humidity

“My status updates are lies”

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Actually they’re not (that was just to get your attention!), but expats in Dubai are in pole position to win a Twitter or Facebook boast-off, it seems.

Three out of five adults in the UAE have lied on social media websites to sound smarter, according to a global survey. About the same number even confessed to tampering with photos to make themselves look more attractive.

I’m sure people do this all round the world (and who wouldn’t want their eyebags airbrushed, their fine lines smoothed?), but in this corner of the globe, we’re apparently particularly good at creating online personas as shiny as Dubai’s Gold Souk.

We’re so good at it, in fact, that two-thirds of the adults surveyed in the UAE wished they were more like their stage-managed online versions.

Twitter trumpet: “Dinner at the Burj tonight, champers tomorrow at brunch! #BeachLater #LifeIsGood”

So what is it that drives UAE residents to tell more fibs than those living across the rest of the Middle East and Europe? Why have more than half of us told ‘social lies’ to impress others?

The answer could be the lack of a support network. People move here away from their families and friends who know them well – and who would usually be the first to spot a lie.

Then there’s the pressure that exists to be successful in a city such as Dubai – and to show friends and family back home how supposedly glossy and exciting their new life in the UAE is.

How many desert-dwellers, for example, are guilty of putting photos up on Facebook of a smiling family in front of the Burj, with a bright-blue, cloudless sky in the background and the caption, “Beautiful day in Dubai today”, when in reality it was hot and humid?

The survey results got me thinking about some of the little white lies that mums in Dubai might tell … here are a few examples:

– “I was so lucky – my baby slept through the night from 10 days old”

– “I’d never let our housemaid get up in the night if Veronica was wailing!”

– “My daughter did her homework all by herself. Really.”

– “I never thought of looking on Pinterest for my son’s school project!”

– “Oh this old thing! [touches fuchsia pink Whistles dress] …I just found it in the cupboard”

– “My children would never eat chicken McNuggets!”

– “It was on sale”

– “The mummy tummy will be as flat as a washboard in six weeks”

– “My eyebrows are naturally high”

– “I’m sorry I can’t be class mum..I’m thinking of getting a job”

24-hour Sherpa shopping

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Dubai is known for its swanky malls and shopping festivals, and over the past three weeks it’s even been possible to indulge the habit at 3am on weekends.

Shopaholics, insomniacs and jet-lagged tourists were treated to round-the-clock shopping at several malls across the city as part of the Eid celebrations – though I hear it was mainly the food outlets that visitors flocked to in the small hours rather than the stores.

I wasn’t one of them – NOTHING, not even a night shopping deal would drag me from my bed and to the mall in the middle of the night, but we did end up at Mirdif City Centre on Saturday, where I found myself browsing the shop windows with a mixture of frustration and envy.

The stores are crammed with swathes of winter clothes – jackets, sweaters, faux furs, scarves – of the Sherpa variety.

I mean, have I missed something over the past four years in Dubai?

Like a big snow.

Cutsie winter clothes that my children will never wear in Dubai. When I popped in to look for a UV sun top, the assistant told me, “Sorry Ma’am, the season’s over.” Over! It’s only just begun!

I’d love to be able to wear this jacket, but if I did I’d feel like a boil-in-the-bag dinner. I know items like this are targeted at the tourists (despite surely not being any cheaper), but couldn’t stores like Gap, H&M and M&S modify their winter collections for Dubai? Per-leez?

And this shop window just takes the biscuit: HELLO! Do you know where we are? THE DESERT!!

Halloween in the desert

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Halloween is HUGE in our compound. It started on October 1 with spooky decorations on a few doorsteps, gathered pace as more households draped cobwebs over the bushes and strung up witches, and culminated last night with our community’s collective descent into trick-or-treatery.

To say the children were very excited is an understatement, and having lived in the States for five years, I can honestly say ‘we do’ Halloween* [whispers: I love this holiday! The children will gorge on bucketfuls of candy, I’ll help myself to copious amounts too – and that’s okay!]

Ready to scare: My littlest skeleton

The kids were dressed and ready by 4pm for a Halloween party next door, then, as night fell, we joined the droves of children outside and trooped from door-to-door under a full moon.

And, I have to say, as I accompanied my two skeletons on a balmy evening around streets aglow with jack-o-lanterns, I was really impressed by the wickedness some of our neighbours had dreamt up.

Not everyone takes part (and the rule is you don’t knock at villas with no porch light on), but many families who did get into the spirit had turned their doorsteps into mini Halloween dens – complete with scary sound effects and fiery torches in some cases.

A few highlights for us were:

– The household with the distressed maiden upstairs who dropped water bombs from the window – with a deathly scream

– The wobbly eyeballs (made from jelly and icing sugar) that were handed out in paper cups and made me whimper

– The dog dressed in a skull-and-crossbone outfit

– The drive-by trick-or-treaters sitting in a six-foot trailer pulled by a quad bike

– The ghoul standing in the dark who honestly looked like he could be fake, but then jumped out on me with an axe [insert horror movie screech]

– And the flying witch rigged up high above G street

* It took a couple of years in the US before I got it. Whilst still a learner, I sat at work one Halloween until 5, wondering why everyone was leaving early. Missed a trick there!

Best-dressed dad: We’d only got about 50 yards or so up our road when my friend informed me: “Just to warn you, all the kids are coming away from that house crying!” Our curiosity piqued, we nudged the kids in that direction, told them to be brave and watched (because after someone’s told you that, you can’t walk away without finding out why, can you?). Lurking in the shadows by their front door was the dad, dressed as a four-legged, long-haired monster, and as the trick-or-treaters filed up the path to line up at the door (yes, line up, there were that many out last night), he’d lurch forwards with a growl. Gotta love the crazy things people do on Halloween!

Rough nights

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I have to admit, I started the Eid half-term in a not-so-bright mood.

“When do I get a holiday?” I harrumphed to DH in a small self-entitled voice, before threatening to check into a hotel to have some ‘me time’ and a lie-in.

These outbursts are nearly always linked to tiredness, I’ve realised. And DH, who’s heard it all before, knows exactly what to do: he takes charge of the children and sits it out.

Then, the cooler Eid weather worked its magic. Suffice to say, Dubai’s blue skies are casting their spell over everyone again, tourists are flocking back in their droves and Eid turned out to be fabulous – almost like being on holiday in Dubai.

DH’s change of scenery – though I’m sure he wished he’d been able to see Noddy at the theatre with us!

But, parenting, it’s never smooth sailing, is it? Just when you think you might actually have cracked it, that it may even be getting a little easier, doesn’t something always happen to keep you on your toes?

Last night, as I settled in on the sofa, I heard the sound of little feet padding down the stairs. BB appeared, with glassy eyes and a vacant stare. Sleepwalking again! We’ve found him draped across various pieces of furniture in the middle of the night a couple of times now.

He’s pretty easy to settle when this happens, but what followed definitely fell into my ‘things I detest about parenting’ category: Projectile Vomit. EVERYWHERE. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, BB then slipped and fell facedown in it. Oh, the shrieks.

Oh, the MISERY.

LB, of course, woke too, and put on an Oscar-worthy performance pretending to be sick (never one to be outdone). And so there I was, wading in vom, trying to coax two boys back to sleep, when my phone pinged.

A text from DH: “Everything OK? I’m in Paris.”

Let’s just say that, after two really rough nights with zero bonhomie, the hotel stay is back on the agenda!

Silent Sunday: Eid

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Tower with a twist

It’s the Eid holiday here in Dubai. The weather is finally perfect (87° and sunny), the children are off school, and by a stroke of luck my DH’s trip to London got cancelled.

Thank you, crew scheduling! (and thank you, DH, for not disappearing off to Tokyo instead.)

We’re just coming to the end of four days of family time, and thanks to the mercury dropping, we’ve been outside nearly the whole time – honestly, we tough it out through the long hot, sticky summers for glorious days like these.

Since water-based activities are still the order of the day, we kick-started Eid with a dhow cruise around Dubai Marina – and I just loved the twisted tower, pictured left, that we sailed past.

But the thing that made me laugh was that while we were on Captain Jack’s family wooden boat – sitting comfortably on enormous bean bags atop the deck of the beautifully varnished vessel – several super yachts sped by, one with a pair of bikini-clad blondes at the helm who turned the heads of the dads on our boat.

How children change everything, I smiled to myself!

The view from Captain Jack’s boat

The pleasure boat I bet half the dads wished they were on!

Why I should NOT be running the 5K

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A month ago, I signed up for a local 5K race. It sounded quite fun – a friend is doing it, you run along Dubai’s Palm with the sea on one side, and I imagined that with all the training I’d do beforehand, it surely couldn’t be that hard?

I mean, it’s not exactly a marathon, is it? And it’s at 7am in the morning so not too hot. There’d be a nice sea breeze, perhaps some seagulls circling and I’d get carried along by the atmosphere, I thought to myself.

I told all my friends, I tweeted about it, and left myself with little choice but to register.

“You’ll be fine! You could even wear your bikini and go for a dip in the sea afterwards,” someone VERY kindly tweeted back. “It’ll all be over in half an hour,” she added, optimistically.

5 kilometres by the sea at 7am – I won’t be wishing I was still in bed, noooo

With a goal to aim towards, I’d even be motivated to spend hours pounding away on the treadmill and, on the day, I’d be home in time for a slap-up breakfast, I decided!

The race is on the 9th November – or in other words, in two weeks’ time, and, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that, despite the purchase of some brightly coloured Reebok gym wear, the training schedule I’d imagined hasn’t exactly worked out.

I’ve never done anything like this before (read: I am not a runner. It would take my legs suddenly sprouting another six inches and my shins becoming a little less knock-kneed to turn me into one). I’ve been going to the gym (three times a week), but not exactly putting in the required intensity – then, last week, I didn’t go at all due to work.

Also worrying me is the fact my mother-in-law is coming along – not to watch, but to take part. A fit, petite and very slim lady, she may well be faster than me. And look less like she’s been on the receiving end of the Heimlich manoeuvre.

But, perhaps my biggest concern is something a good friend, who’s been pootling off on 35K bike rides recently, pointed out: the fact that running outdoors is quite different from jogging on the treadmill in a climate-controlled gym.

So this week, I’ve been trying to imagine my legs slamming into concrete instead of the soft, conveyor belt. I’ve thought about the jarring effect reverberating through my body, the sun on my back, and wondered if my knees know what they’re in for.

I’m determined to give it a go, though, and now it’s so much cooler in the evenings, I’m planning on doing a few outside jogs before the big day.

Even if I walk some of it, it really doesn’t matter. I’ll get there in the end. Just not in my bikini.

‘WHY?’ and other annoying phrases

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There was a little piece on the radio in Dubai last week about the top 10 most annoying sounds (you’ll see where I’m going with this in a minute).

I was pretty sure that nails on a chalkboard would top the list, but there are – according to the neuroscientists who researched this – two other even more unpleasant sounds.

A crying baby doesn’t irritate me at all. I’m just thankful it’s not mine and my children are older!

A knife on a bottle, followed by a fork on a glass are the noises our brains find most intolerable, apparently. Other sounds on the list are more guessable, like an electric drill and a crying baby. Then there were one or two I’m not sure I’ve ever heard, like a disc grinder and a ruler on a bottle.

Long before the presenters reached ‘crying baby’, it occurred to me that mums of small children could put together their own list of annoying sounds, based on the things we hear all.the.time.

You know what I mean – we love our children so much it hurts, but sometimes the words our infuriating, ravenous little darlings utter over.and.over.again can make you want to pierce your eardrum with a screwdriver be a little irritating.

Here’s my top 10:

“Mummeeeee, I’m BORED.” Followed two minutes later by, “Mummy, I SAID, I’m bored.”

“He started it!” [feigns innocence]

“YOU do it”

“I want a NEW mummy”

“I don’t like it” [throws food you’ve shopped for and spent ages preparing back at you]

“Mummy, [insert sibling’s name] hit me!” [don’t get me started about the goading]

“I’ve got nothing to DO” [sighs with weariness despite 10 million toys upstairs]

“It’s morning time!” At 5.45am.

“I’m NOT going to bed!” Every.single.night.

“Why?” repeat ad nauseam

I’m sure there’s more (‘he’s not sharing’, ‘after this programme’, ‘you’re not my friend’).

But I know – the day will come when they won’t want to talk to me at all, and I’ll resort to stalking them on Facebook – then, I’ll miss these gems! (Or not?)

Silent Sunday: Gym rules part 2

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I posted about the rules in our compound gym before. Today, I noticed there was another board of more-detailed corkers regulations on another wall. I’ve circled two of my favourites below:

But what about the grunters, I found myself thinking?

My prize, though, for the funniest gym rule (‘Please wipe sweat on the machines. Thank you’) still goes to Asia Vu, a wonderful blog about expat life in South Korea.

Life’s a beach (if you’re new!)

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The other day at work, there was a new lad sitting next to me. He was there the day before too, but because we were so busy getting four publications to press, we hadn’t had a chance to talk.

We’d said hello over the filing trays and wished each other a nice evening, but that was it.

So the next day, when I noticed he was still there, I greeted him with a good morning (with the hot-desking that goes on, I half expected him to have vanished).

He smiled back, then asked:

“Do you live in Dubai?”

I was a little surprised. I’d just assumed he lived in Dubai too.

“Do you know where the Burj Khalifa is?” he enquired next.

“Yes, I do,” I replied – still confused, because you really can’t miss it.

I took him over to the window to show him and realised the tall, pointy tower was completely hidden in the haze.

“Well, that’s where it normally is,” I explained, peering through the dusty sky.

We went back to our desks and talked a little more. I found out he lives in Abu Dhabi and is commuting to Dubai, does something in marketing and had only arrived in the UAE on Sunday.

A few more weeks, and his desk will look more like this, unfortunately

Straight off the plane, literally.

I felt guilty I hadn’t welcomed my desk buddy earlier (although, honestly, it was like drinking from a firehose at work this week).

Plus he was cute in a boyish, amiable way!

He had an air of excitement about him. If it’s possible to be star-struck by a city, then that’s how I’d describe it. As he told me how he’d been swimming four times that week after work, and had discovered the aquamarine-sea-lapped beach, his face lit up with wonder – which does tend to happen when you’re newly arrived from a country heading into a cold, dark winter.

“Don’t you feel like you’re on holiday the whole time?” he laughed.

“No,” I smiled, thinking about the school runs; the homework. Driving to the office, on congested roads. The 14-hour days I’ve been putting in this week dropping LB at school, working and then rushing home to get the children to bed.

Because contrary to what the Daily Mail would have the rest of the world believe, living in Dubai isn’t all about champagne-swilling, wave-frolicking, sand-between-your-thighs abandon. There are tens of thousands of housewives going about the minutiae of daily life.

But, it’s ALWAYS good to be reminded, to have your memory jogged that Dubai IS a really fun, glitzy, sun-soaked place, and that, for eight months of the year at least, it’s a fantastic city to live in.

Something that stayed with me as the silver silhouette of the Burj Khalifa started to take shape as the haze cleared a little later.

Now, if someone could just pass me a cocktail please…