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.