It's not the price, but that cost that's difficult

A couple of weeks ago, while we were doing our laundry at the Crandalls, Jake said to as, “Did you hear that they’re opening a Costco in Abu Dhabi?” There was a beat long enough for our hopes to rise just a bit, before his wife said, “Don’t listen to my husband. He tries that joke on all the newbies.” The joke was more cruel than it should have been. There are lots of people we miss, but one of the few things we’re having a bit of a hard time doing without is Costco and the Minivan that allowed us to exploit the power of bulk buying to its fullest extent. The presence of an Ikea only five minutes away offsets the loss we feel a little bit, but minimalist Swedish do-it-yourself furniture can only fill so big of a hole.

We’re starting to fall into a routine, unfortunately that routine seems to include almost daily grocery shopping. The massive jugs of water are heavy and, in the midst of the urban desert, it does not last long. We’re still stocking our cupboards and kitchen drawers with essentials. It seems that every day Julie’s reaching for something that isn’t there. Yesterday, it was curry, which was kind of funny because one of the things that this country does not lack with its Indian population is the availability of curry. It just didn’t make one of the many shopping lists we’ve jotted down since arriving.

This how everyone looked on the way to the mall. You should have seen them on the way home. Not pretty.

Each trip to the store I’m calculating not how much it’s going to cost, but rather how much it’s all going to weigh and if I can get the groceries from the cab to my building’s elevator in one trip. The five am call to prayer I’m starting to get used to, but these constant mini-trips to get groceries, that’s going to take some time.

We're around the last "t" on Sh. Zayed 1st Street.

There's nothing like clean underwear and a home cooked meal to help you feel settled in

There is the beauty of a sunset over the city, but the first thing to really take my breath away since we arrived in Abu Dhabi was...

Isn't she a beaut?

The new washing machine finally arrived a week ago Monday. Let me tell you that it's the little things like doing laundry that you miss when you can't do it. We had purchased a washing machine with the lot of furnishings we shipped down, and like the rest of the experience, things did not work out quite as we had planned. It took me a couple of days to find the adapter I needed to hook up our washer (the concept of regular business hours for some of the smaller shops is quite fluid during Ramadan). And once it was all hooked up, the basin spewed chunks of foam lining and refused to drain. After a couple of tries, we surrendered and ended up buying a washer at the closest shop we could find on the day before Eid which meant the earliest it could be delivered was three days later. A family from church invited us overa couple of Fridays ago to feed us and let us use their washer. We might have overstayed our welcome by a few hours which only put us that much more in their debt. The new washer arrived on Monday and, part from the faces of my family, may just be the single most beautiful thing I've laid my eyes on since arriving here. I had never heard of Haier, but the salesman assured me in his best English that it was much better than the LG I was looking at. He didn't tell me which of the two paid the higher commission, but I have my suspicions.

Tuesday was the first home cooked meal we had since we've arrived. I guess technically the ramen we had a couple of nights in a row was cooked at home, but it didn't offer the same level of comfort that Julie's fresh baked bread and quinoa chilli had. She even baked a couple of batches of cookies. It was the first time she had baked with a gas oven, and apart from the extra crispiness of the first batch of cookies, everything turned out perfectly. To make the meal even more fulfilling, we invited our neighbour Rudi from across the hall. He also teaches at the college and has been an invaluable resource whenever we've needed any help or advice.

And, yes that is home baked bread!

If it's Latin, it must be true!

Before we came we had made arrangements to purchase our furnishings from a family who were on their way out. We saw a few photos and the price seemed right. We were told it wouldn't cost much to move things from where they were and that it would make the entire process of setting in much smoother and easier. Alas, this was not so. Caveat Emptor is the Latin phrase, and because it's in Latin, it means that someone learned this lesson many hundreds of years ago. I need to put more trust in dead languages. If something seems like it's too good to be true, it probably is.

I don't want to give the impression that we were ripped off or taken to the cleaners. The stuff we got is probably worth what we paid for it (whether it was worth what we paid to move it is another question entirely). However, had we been given our choice of furnishings or appliances, we probably would have gone a much different route and saved ourselves a few headaches.

When we arranged to move the stuff from a faraway town, we were unable to supervise the sorting and loading of the stuff onto the trucks. Simply put, in the rush to load and move the trucks, the filtering process was completely omitted. It took us the better part of a week to sift the possessions we bought from the lives of their previous owners. Journals, photographs, receipts and manual for phantom appliances filled boxes and drawers. Filtering our own possessions before leaving Nova Scotia was a relief. Going through this stuff was simply work without thecatharthis. Not fun.

The worn and threadbare furniture wouldn't fit down the hallway to the bedrooms, so it's the nicer stuff that's out of sight. The fridge overwhelms our kitchen and the washing machine had more than a small leak.

I need to close the book on this. My constant venting doesn't seem to relieve the stress building inside me, so I have to let go and move on, and if there's was lesson this adventure can teach me it's to let go of that which I can't control.

This is what I mean by lack of filters. Yes, those are trophies that were moved, and that is indeed a slab of concrete that was very carefully wrapped and boxed for us.

Let's give this another try...

The view from our apartment

It's the familiar that's most unnerving

It's all about the context. There is so much here that is familiar to us--the McDonalds, Krispy Kreme Donuts, the Chili's and KFCs--but it's because we don't expect to see it that it's so jarring. Coming off the plane, the first thing we saw at the airport was a Starbuck's coffee shop. At the time I thought it was a little ironic, but now, after ten days here, I'm finding that the biggest adjustments I'm having to make are regarding the things we didn't leave behind. It's not that it's not a little comforting to be able to have a Whopper every now and again. It is nice to have that option, but it's that Whopper, more than anything else, that reminds me of how far from home I am.

One view from our apartment around 11:30 PM.

One Week In and We're all Still here...

After nearly twenty hours of flight, we arrived in Abu Dhabi a day and a half after we left. The entire process was beyond smooth. It was our first time on an airplane in over five years (except for Julie who had her little trip a couple of weeks before). Julie did an amazing job packing all of the sixteen bags (twelve check on and six carry ons) and not one bag was dinged for being over weight. It was nothing short of a miracle.

This is what we saw of Germany.

In Abu Dhabi we were greet by a guest service and ushered through customs like we were VIPs. When we finally left the airport, the heat and humidity hit us like a wall. Miranda described it perfectly when she said, "I feel like a sucked on pretzel."

Then straight on to the hotel in the heart of Abu Dhabi. You couldn't have prepared me for room they put us in. Were I easily influenced by flattery, the amenities would have completely won me over.

I thought that the extremely comfortable bed and lack of any sleep over the previous thirty would have guaranteed a perfect night's sleep. No such luck. It took at least three days to get my clock adjusted to the time difference.

This is how Miranda enjoyed the pool.

The next day I got to see the campus where it turns out I will not be working, very impressive all the same. That afternoon we spent a little bit of time in the hotel's roof top swimming pool while poor cast-laden Miranda watched on from the shade.