The Surgery Saga

Okay so I know I have fallen off the face of the Earth again, and for that I apologize.  I actually have no excuse because I have been home for the last several weeks nursing my ankle, although I have had my attention turned to some other projects I had been meaning to get done. 

So the update is that everything went okay with the surgery. I figure I might as well tell you rather than leave you hanging and work your blood pressure while I recite this entire saga that goes along with that very brief sentence.  I figure I owe you a couple of stories, anyway, so I’ll talk a little about it.  Also keep in mind most of the drama involved here centers around time; what I mean will soon become apparent.  

After I broke my ankle I immediately went to the hospital and saw a doctor that told me that I would have to have surgery to correctly fix the bone.  This I believe I mentioned in the last post and its where I left off.  Well, after a credible referral, we, Natova and I, found a doctor that seemed to know his stuff.  They spoke very good English, which is always comforting, and the Clinic itself specialized in sports injuries, so my ankle was not uncommon at all for them.  From what I have been told by the first doctor I saw the day I broke my ankle and this new doctor is that I will need to get a plate and screws put into my ankle to stabilize it while my ankle heals itself to ensure complete alignment and no risk of arthritis.  The call it fixation.  As I said before, the surgeon, seemed very credible, and knowledgeable about injury and how to fix it. 

Another important piece of information is that we need to have the surgery soon because after a couple of weeks the bone begins to heal but not in the position we want it to.  The way we want is where it provides optimum support, like the way it was before it was broken.  So we agree that the surgery will happen sometime next week.  The surgery will be at Al Salama hospital so he will have to see what the operating room schedule looks like and fit me in there.  Mind you it has already been a few days since the break so the sooner we get this taken care of the better.  In the meantime, all that has to happen is that we give the front desk the paperwork we got from the hospital and they can process it for approval to the insurance company (and yes that’s the way it works, they have to wait for the approval to come before they do anything, which is usually between one and three days).  We gave them everything we had but we were missing one report that we needed from the hospital.   So we figure we would get it, give it to the clinic and be done.  Yeah…

Over the next couple of days we went back and forth with this hospital costing us precious time trying to get this stupid report that manages not to be in their system.  Finally we get it and then give it to the admin people at the clinic.  They take it, say okay and we schedule our the surgery for Tuesday of next week, which would be somewhere around 10 days after I broke my ankle, which is in the danger zone of the bone beginning to heal itself again in the wrong way.   So as far as I know everything is in process for approval which as I mentioned before should be in a day or two, so I was pretty happy to see the clinics number on my caller ID two days later because I knew they would tell me it was approved.  Instead what I got was “Sir we need the report so we can submit your paper work to the insurance company for approval.”  I told him that we gave them the report and he said its not this report, I don’t know the names so I will say Report A and B, but another report, Report B.  I asked him why they didn’t tell me this before, like say when they asked for it the first time, or say when they took what we gave them and said “okay.”  They said they will call the hospital and try to get it themselves.  Very frustrating.  

So for the next few days I am sitting in limbo wonder if this surgery will really happen.  I called to check in from time to time but nothing’s changed.  Finally the day of the surgery (yes the day of) the doctor tells me we have approval and he will meet us at the hospital at 12 noon for the procedure. 

We get there and wait around forever.  At this point my leg was killing me, not because the break hurt, but apparently it’s the swelling that gets you, particularly right around the ankle.  It feels like your leg is on fire and is literally about to explode out of its skin.  I sometimes thought of those Grands biscuits I used to eat back home, when you press on the side of the cylinder along the lines where its precut and the whole thing kinds of pops open so you can get the dough for the biscuits out.  It felt like that and I was afraid the skin on my leg would pop.  Some ibuprofen I had did help but I was instructed not to eat or drink anything before I had the surgery, so I couldn’t take anything for the pain that morning.  

After about 3 hours of hunger and agony, my surgeon finally shows up only to tell us the surgery won’t be happening today and that we will do it tomorrow.  He apologizes profusely but our time window was missed because he had another patient that ran long.  Also it turns out that I have to do a whole pre-op screening that he didn’t mention; really it seemed he had been trying to get around it.  So I had to go upstairs in the hospital and get an EKG, blood test, meet with the anesthesiologist.  I do all this and I get red flagged again for my enlarged muscular heart condition that mentioned before in another post.  Then that becomes a big deal again, and I have meet with the cardiologist to get approval for the surgery.  The anesthesiologist refers me to him and both seem on the fence about letting me get the surgery.  They are afraid that if I go under and my blood pressure drops to low it may be difficult stabilizing me because of my condition.  The cardiologist reluctantly approves and sends me back to the anesthesiologist who seemed thoroughly surprised that I got an okay from the Cardiologist and had to call to check.  So anyway we get it all done, and are ready for tomorrow.  

Tomorrow comes, same hunger because I can't eat, but at least I was given the okay to take pain meds.  We make it to the hospital again, wait for a bit and I get taken to my own room.  They hook me up to an IV poke me a few times for whatever reason and still I am waiting on the doctor.  Finally he arrives and he regrets to inform me that we won’t be able to do the operation because the hospital did not approve it with the pre-op.  I know what you are thinking.  Probably the same thing I was thinking at the time which was yesterday they told me it was okay.  Well apparently today it must have been some different guy and he said no.  Their main concern was that they didn’t have ICU equipment in hospital should something happen while I’m under.  

So the doctor says that we will just keep me in a caste and let the bone heal on its own.  I asked if that meant I would have arthritis and he said it is possible.  Two days ago he said it was almost certain if I didn’t get this surgery so I start to feel he just wants to keep me as a patient for the insurance money.  My options were to just stay in the caste or find a surgeon with a facility that has the necessary equipment to do the surgery.  Pretty much square one.  Then there is this whole thing about my heart where the doctors at Al Salama have me concerned about having the surgery at all. 

I decide to look for someone, and somewhere, else to do the surgery.  The next day I went to a state of the art hospital Sheikh Khalifa, pretty much known to be the best hospital facilities in the city, and you can see it the moment you step through the doors.  It was like being back in the states again.  I went to the emergency room, as instructed by my last doctor, and explained my situation.  First they didn’t seem to think this counted as an emergency, though I begged to differ since it has been two full weeks since my break and my bones are well into healing itself.  The guy I spoke to said that I could be seen by someone but I would have to go to one of their clinics and I would have to do it at the beginning of next week because, as luck would have it today was Thursday, the end of the week and they don’t up until Sunday.  So I’m not feeling good about this right now.

Finally we get another referral to Seha One Day Surgery Center.  It too has state of the art facilities and is an all around nice place.  I met with the Orthopedic doctor there, nice guy, seemed knowledgeable.  He was confident he could do it, we met with the anesthesiologist.  I explained my heart condition, he took a look at one of the many echos I had done on my heart in the last two weeks, and deduced everything should be fine and he saw no need to worry.  They only needed certain paperwork from the Al Salama hospital and the last clinic we went to… Yeah, I know.  But I am excited that I found someone that could do the surgery for real this time. 

So we set of on a quest to get the necessary paperwork and it seemed to be going well.  We dropped by the clinic picked it up then went to Al Salama got the bloodwork reports.  We got it and then had to go to the insurance department to cancel the approval of the surgery so we can get it approved somewhere else.  We then have to go to Al Noor hospital to get a doctor’s report from the doctor that found my condition over the winter break.  He was busy so I had to sit around for a few hours until I got to see him and have him write a hand written report about his opinion of my condition.  But in the end we got everything and came back with our stuff to submit for approval of the insurance. 

If you think that what happened the first time I did this can’t happen again you would only be half right.  You see all the paperwork was there, but the approval did get rejected because the apparently the first one was not cancelled.  How is that, you may ask.  Didn’t I get that taken care of at Al Salama a couple of days ago (it’s been more two days).  The answer is yes and after day of investigating apparently the culprit wasn’t Al Salama, but my first clinic.  They had not cancelled on their side, or cancelled the surgeon, as you must cancel the surgeon and the facility.  So they haunt me again holding me up from my operation.  Then they finally cancel and we resubmit (another day or so).  Guess what?  That’s right, rejected!  At this point I can almost see the humor in it if it wasn’t me that needed this operation.  But it turns out that Al Salama didn’t completely cancel the first time.  They still had approval for the room, because I had “stayed in it for 6 hours or more” so I was charged the cost of a day.  Interestingly enough though I was only in the hospital for about 3 and a half hours total.  Wonder how that could have happened?  Anyway, we got them to cancel the room stay too.  Another day goes by, and then, finally, approval is granted and I have my surgery the next day, almost 3 weeks after I broke my ankle.  

Everything went well, though I will admit I had some concerns.  When they took me out of the room and rolled me through the hallways, I was nervous but stayed as calm as I could.  I had no choice but to trust my surgeon and that everyone involved knew what they were doing.  When the got me into the operating room everything looked on the up and up.  State of the art everything, so that was good to see.  I ended up getting an epidural, which does not feel good going in and you have to keep still while you get it.  The lower half of my body immediately became warm and heavy, soon I couldn’t move my legs at all, which may be one of the scariest, most uncomfortable experiences I have ever had.  Call me a control freak but I enjoy being able to move all my limbs when I want to and I couldn’t do that here so, it was a little scary.  As for the surgery itself, I am awake the whole time, but all I kept thinking is that I wish they would have put me out.  I don’t see any of what is going on because of a cloth partition, but I do here things and not always positive.  The Arabic community overall could stand for a lesson in how to talk politely to people, but I hear a lot of irritated doctors chastising nurses that apparently didn’t either know how to do something or assisted him incorrectly.  And this leads to the better questions of why is this person working on my leg if they don’t know what’s going on?  Though she wasn’t actually operating just assisting, I get that, it still didn’t make me feel good at the time.  Even before the doctor arrived while I was getting my epidural, nurses were standing around complaining that a doctor says he wants one thing for the operation and then he gets here and wants another.  What am I to do?  If ever there was a time that I wanted them to speak Arabic it was now.  I also hear urgency every once in a while about something, I see perplexed faces from the people I could during the operation.  All I could do was softly sing Neil Diamond songs to myself to just take my mind of it.  I think it got loud enough for other people to hear but I didn’t care.  

In the end the doctor said that it was a bit more difficult to do than it would have normally been because of the amount of time that passed since I first broke my ankle, but the procedure went well and everything is okay.  I stayed for a few hours longer until the epidural wore of and I could me my legs again.  Unfortunately along with mobility of my lower limbs came the pain the drugs kept away.  After a I got home and into the next day, it did feel like someone had shoved some screws into my ankle bone, which is exactly what happened.  

The one good thing that became of this is that I manage to get a significant amount of time off from school, to which I return back to tomorrow.  My accident happened right before spring break, during a time when we weren’t teaching class anyway. I have been away from school for 6 weeks, including the break.  I haven’t taught a real lesson or held a real class in 8 weeks which ultimately is the equivalent of a Summer Break. I have literally forgotten how to teach.  I have only 5 weeks to teach before the trimester winds down again and then its exams, then summer.    

Well there you have it.  You are officially caught up regarding my leg.  I’ll post more soon, no really I promise.  Till next time. 

What had happened was...

Of some of the many things to do here, I had heard some pretty good things about paintball.  I personally had never done it before, but again had always wanted to give it a go.  It has all the elements of a good time: we get to play on teams, we get to run around an obstacle course, we get to shoot at people with real flying projectiles, what’s not to love.  It’s like a Marine’s dream.  

My colleague and buddy Mike had organized a paintball session afterschool.  There were about 10 guys onboard, most which I had never met before.  First of all when we got there I was pretty impressed by the facility.  It was called Al Forsans sport resort, and they had a bunch of other things besides just paintball, like archery (something else I really want to do), go carts, gun range, etc.  Really classy looking place to when you walk in, shiny marble floors with a real upscale hotel feel. 

So we pay and suit up.  We had to wait for the other guys to get there, but we didn’t have to wait too long.  They pretty much had everything as far as gear that we needed: jumpsuit, helmet, marker (gun).   They go over the rules with you and walk you down to the course.  It’s a pretty cool set.  The ground is all sand, there are metal barrels, bamboo fences, bamboo huts, tires, and so on.  Tons of things to hide behind. 

We played about a three games.   The first two was basic elimination, try to pick of all the other teams guys.  We first started out if you hit a guy at all and he has a paint mark on him you are out.  The next few games we played you had to hit the guy in the chest or back for him to be out. 

We only had so much ammunition left (you have to buy your paint balls) enough for maybe one game.  The referees, and yes there were refs there that worked for the resort, took us to another course, one that had less cover to hide behind.  This one seemed to have a Wild West theme. 

As soon as we got going you could feel the pressure and lack of cover.   The other team immediately had a better position on us and had like three of us pinned down behind a wall.  That’s not good.  I looked up a saw someone from the other team moving in on our left flank (side).  If he were to  get completely around there we are surrounded  and its easy pickings from there.  The only alternative was for me to move in that direction to stop his advance.   I ran over to a wall, evading fire down range, and slid into cover behind a wall.   I slid feet first with all of my momentum but my foot got caught in the sand.  My body kept going, my foot didn’t, my ankle gave and snapped. 

Funny thing when I think back about this, I just remember rolling over because of my momentum and looking up to see my foot facing in a direction it’s not supposed to.  I didn’t think but reacted immediately.  I remember before I had stopped rolling from my slide, while my feet were in the air, I reached up and turned my foot back facing forward.  When I had stopped rolling, I was on my stomach with my legs bent and the soles of my feet facing the ceiling.  I looked over my shoulder and my right foot seemed to be hanging pretty loosely but it was in its correct position.  I called over the ref and told him I think I broke my ankle.  He asked if I was sure, I said I was pretty sure.  He actually went to my foot and held it a little.  I started to move my toes, I was able to push back against his hand.  I felt no pain.  I thought maybe I just sprained it really bad (don’t think I thought that one all the way through, but I also think I wanted it to be just a bad sprain).  By now some of the guys from both teams had come over to help.  I got to my feet, or foot, not putting any weight on the other foot.  I thought I could kind of limp to the sidelines on my own, again not sure what I was thinking.  I didn’t plan on actually putting my full weight on my foot, just enough to test it.  Not a good idea.  Almost immediately my foot whipped back out almost facing the other way while my knee and the rest of my body is facing forward.  That was the only time I cried out in pain.  Once again without thinking I immediately reached down and snapped my foot back forward into place.  The pain went away instantly. 

The fellas helped my over to a bench and put my leg up.  One of the guys seemed to have some type of medical experience.  He thought I might have dislocated my ankle.  He also told me that I tore some tendons on the inside of my ankles, whose job it once was keep my foot from turning 180 degrees around.  Even as I sat there with my leg still propped straight out on the bench, my foot began to fall over.  I asked for them to grab it to stop it from sliding, but I think they were in the “leave it alone so not to make it worse” frame of mind.  I assured him that this is worse as the pain intensified the more my foot slid to the right, almost touching the bench.  Once again (notice a trend) I reached down and straightened my foot back upright.  The guy seemed fascinated saying my foot was back in joint, something I could already tell because it hurt a lot less. 

The medic came in, apparently the resort has its own medical staff, and stabilized my foot with foam/plastic boards and wrap.  I waited in their facility for a while them Mike and Big John, another one of the guys we played with, took me to the hospital.  I had called Natova and she was already there when I got there.  I went in for x-rays and saw that my first instincts were correct.  I had indeed fractured my ankle. I also did tear those tendons the one paintball guy suggested.  According to the doctor this is a fairly common injury, particularly with athletes.  His suggestion is surgery to put in a screw and plate that I could take out later, after a year or so.  After the surgery I would need to be in a cast for about 6 weeks.  He suggested we get a couple of opinions, but that was his.  More than likely others he believes will say the same.  So we will look around and see what happens.  They did put me in a temporary cast until the surgery.  

So right now, I expect to have surgery in the coming days.  I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.  Till next time.  

Valentines Day meets Aquatic Adventures

You may be interested to know that Valentine’s Day is also celebrated in the Middle East.  I’m not sure why that would be a surprise to me, but it was.  Like Christmas I only expected expats to have anything to do with the holiday.  I suppose it is comforting to know that with all of our differences we can all still agree that love should be celebrated. 

With that said, Valentine’s Day in the states and Valentine’s Day in Abu Dhabi have a totally different vibe.  Back home I remember constantly getting bombarded with advertisements about it, Valentine’s Day sales, commercials, etc.  In Abu Dhabi it is much more low- key.  In fact, I didn’t even know that it was celebrated here until one of my students started talking about what he was going to get his girlfriend (which, if anyone asks, he does not have because it is against their culture. I find that there are a lot of students that “do not have girlfriends” at the other female schools).  Then I did start to notice that the florist and gas stations stocked up on flowers around the big day.  

So this year I thought I might do something creative for Valentine’s Day.  I can’t bring myself to write another letter or poem, not that there’s anything wrong with it (the poems always turn out very expressionate) but I just want to do something different.  So I went into deep thought and meditation, and then it miraculously came to me like a divine light (though my idea may or may not have been loosely inspired by the articles from the Google search: “Creative Valentine Day Ideas” which I read moments before my epiphany).  Instead of a Valentine’s Day, I decided to do a Valentine’s week.  Every day, I gave a small gift (i.e. flowers, massage, cooked dinner, etc) until the last couple of days where I gave her the big gift, which in this case was a weekend in Dubai. 

We had been talking about going to Dubai for weekend trip for quite a while ever since the day visit we did with our friends.  We were interested to see the Global Village, which is a something like a combination of a carnival and a huge souq.  Different parts of the Village is split into different countries, like China, India, Egypt, etc., and for each part their décor, food, and goods reflect the part of the world represented.  She was excited about the weekend, as I knew she would be.  I made the reservations, found a good hotel near the Mall of the Emirates (we had previously been to the Dubai Mall in our last trip).  According to the map, the Global Village was also nearby, maybe a ten minute taxi.  So we were all ready, but apparently Mother Nature wasn’t.

If you recall our first trip to Dubai, the day we went ended up being one of the 4 or 5 days a year that Dubai sees rain, so the place was kind of gloomy most of the day.  This trip was even worse as far as weather, but at least there was no rain.  However, we ended up going the weekend of a sand storm.  Nothing dramatic like you see on Mission Impossible or anything like that.  But it was hazy the whole weekend and the wind was blowing in incredible gusts, carrying the sand with it.  As we caught our taxis to and fro we saw people walking on the streets covering their mouths and face as they walked.  Arab men wore a covering that wrapped their heads and covered their nose and mouth.  The sand here is different from the sand back home.  It is not heavy and gritty like the crystalize stuff you may have in your back yard.  This sand is as fine as powder, like dust, so it’s very easy for it to stay in the air and travel with the wind.  Natova and I would debate on whether it was fog or sand in the air, because you couldn’t tell.   At any rate, whatever it was, it prevented us from seeing the city the way we wanted to.  The buildings, one of the main draws of Dubai, were blanketed so we couldn’t get a good view of them.

So we decided not to do the Global Village but we did do the Dubai Aquarium in the Dubai Mall.   The Dubai Aquarium boasts having the largest indoor tank of water in the world (don’t ask me how many tons of water it is, I forgot).  I thought it was interesting that they called it a water zoo, and once you get in you kind of see why.  Even before you even make it into the Aquarium, there is this huge glass tank with an obscene amount of fish.  The variety of fish is ridiculous, but the most impressive thing was the size of some of them.  Fish, not even a special type of sea animal like a shark or swordfish, just “regular” fish like what you see at the fish market, literally the size of me and probably weighing just as much.  There were sharks and a lot of Sting Rays as well, one particular Sting Ray that was even longer than me. 

When we got inside, there is an instant shock because the tunnel you walk through is completely glass with the tank surrounding you, and what do you see directly next to your head upon entrance?  How about sharks, not just a shark but multiple sharks all swimming around that particular part of the tank.  I don’t know if they have them roped off so they don’t go anywhere else, but they like 5 feet away on the other side of some glass.  It even kind of freaked me out a bit, maybe because I wasn’t expecting it.  We got some pretty good pictures though. 

After the water tunnel, there were smaller tank habitats on either side of this path we follow to move through the place.  It was really nice, seeing all the different types of fish and other animals.  There were a few crowd favorites.  Everyone seemed enthralled by the otters.   I personally like otters, they are one of the coolest animals I know, though this was my first time actually seeing one up close.  I like that they are smart and have a personality on them. 

 The other very personable animal, also a crowd favorite, was the penguin: who knew?  They were all the way in the back towards the end of the walk through.  Lots of people lined up to see them, and for good reason.  I didn’t know they were so… active.  When I walked up to the tank the first thing I saw was one penguin getting into it with another penguin.  They kind of yelled at each other, maybe a few bumps, but no major rumble.  The next thing I saw was the penguins swimming around in the water, and when they get in that water they can move pretty fast.  Some guy figured out that the penguins are highly attracted to cell phone light and started moving it around on the outside of the tank.  Where ever he shined the light a pack of penguins bolted trying to catch it.  It was kinda interesting to watch.

There was a section upstairs devoted to the creepy crawlies we all love to hate.  There were beetles and bugs and snakes and lizards and so on.  I particularly intrigued by the giant hissing cockroach exhibit.  It was both disgusting and fascinating at the same time; I couldn’t look away.  There was some lady that worked there trying really hard to get Natova to take a picture with a huge Boa Constrictor around her neck.  It was like a hundred and something dirhams.  Their pitch was “conquer you fear.”  Didn’t work.  

All in all a pretty cool experience.  One of our more adventurous Valentine’s Days. They also have packages where you can snorkel or scuba dive around the tank with the fish.  Never know maybe one day, I do want to learn to scuba.  Till next time.

Foodie (Natova)

If you really know me, you would know I love seafood. I could literally survive off garlic crabs for an entire week and be just fine. I believe I actually did that leading up to my last days in Jacksonville and Melbourne. Ray believes if we had a past life I lived in the ocean. With that said I really miss the lovely creatures luring at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Although, I miss family and friends, I truly miss the food. I guess I have to bring a taste of home here to Abu Dhabi.

I remember my first trip to the grocery store with Ray. He rolled me the shopping cart and told me to start practicing, and practice is exactly what I needed.  All the wheels on the shopping cart swivel unlike in the US just the front two wheels swivel allowing for sharp turns and easy navigating throughout the store. It’s very hard to keep the basket straight and the turns require you to sway with the cart and make very wide turns. I know I looked like a complete idiot trying to maneuver the basket up and down the aisle while trying to avoid the many unsupervised children running throughout the store or the huge crowds that seem to think it’s a great time to shop in the supermarket after 8 at night. As of late, I have gotten much better with the shopping cart itself but still adjusting myself to the brands and products available. For the most part, I can find what I need but have requested in a care package the infamous Season Salt, Old Bay seasoning (LOL got to have my seafood) and Vanilla Wafers (Banana Pudding for the holidays).

 There’s one frustrating part about the grocery stores here. They never seem to keep the same products or brands available on a consist basis. I can go into the store to buy say Cheerios and the next week it won’t be there for another two weeks or so. I’m not sure what they’re doing in their transportation department or at least their buying office, but I would like to have my Cheerios or whatever the item available every week. Maybe, they need me working in their logistics department to make sure product is flowing and the customer is satisfied because you know, that is what I do. Also, these same Cheerios could cost say $3 this week and next week $7. Why? I don’t even ask anymore sometimes. I just keep a close eye on the prices because the cereal next to it maybe $5. Who knows? Consistency is not one of their stronger qualities here in Abu Dhabi.

Abu Dhabi has a grocery store on just about every street. There’s either a hypermarket, our version of supermarket,  (LULU, Carrefour or Spinney’s chain stores), neighborhood store (locally owned) or Cooperative Society (Co-Ops), bigger than the local places but not as large usually not as large as the hypermarkets. I typically shop at Lulu‘s because it’s the closest to my apartment with the most options. It’s located at the Mushrif Mall. There at least 6 malls on the island of Abu Dhabi and they all have either a Lulu’s or Carrefour inside, which is convenient because Abu Dhabi is built around their numerous malls. On occasions I will shop at Spinneys’ to get the safe guarded, sealed off pork. Yes, they sell pork in Abu Dhabi, but it’s located in the back of the grocery store behind sliding glass doors labeled for “non-Muslims only”. I knew I smelled bacon in the hallways of my apartment building. Now, back to Lulu’s…

I now understand why on the cooking channels they mention to always know where your meat comes from. The simple task of picking up ground beef requires a bit of decision making. Will it be New Zealand, Austrian or Saudi beef today, Natova? The same goes for chicken and lamb. I also have to double check the labels to make sure I’m picking up what I intend as most of the meats are surrounded with every part of the animal including brain, feet, tongue so on and so on.  I wasn’t much of a lamb person in the US, but since it’s a popular meal here I have tried it several times, which Ray has mentioned in a previous post. Currently, I’m not a big fan of the local cuisines. I guess I need to get use to the favors and all the spices. My stomach is not strong enough for the Indian curry on most days and the Arabic dishes are just so foreign to me right now, but I’m sure I’ll warm up to it since we’ll be here for two years. However, there is a popular dish called Shawarma in which a lot of expats seem to enjoy. It a wrap consisting of shaved chicken or beef stuffed with pickled veggies, mayo or a special sauce and fries. Sounds delicious, right? LOL. In order, to get some real good quality food we tend to good to the many hotels where the restaurant are either 4 or 5 star. We come with an empty belly and a coupon in hand. The coupon books are sold here and they are of great value and use. We would prefer not to spend thirty plus dollars per entrée so the coupons which offers “buy one, get on” works out perfectly. The book is a hot commodity amongst the expats.

I’ll be posting again real soon. Hoped you enjoyed my take on Abu Dhabi so far.

Getting to know the U.A.E

Show Me the Money (Natova)

Leaving the almighty dollar behind and using the money here took some getting used to.  The currency here is very colorful and the bills can range up to 1000 dirhams or AED (Arab Emirate Dirhams). The coins are called Fils which consist of a .25 fil (equals approx .07 cents), .50 fil (.14 cents US) and 1 dirham fil (.27 cents US). The bills start at 5 aed (equals $1.36), 10 aed ($2.72), 20, 50, 100 ($27.22) etc. As you may know we do a lot of rounding. It’s good to know your four time tables as we tend to convert the values in our head to get a better understanding of how much we’re being charged or how much we’re willing to pay. Going shopping was a bit overwhelming because we need to deal mostly in the hundreds, so you feel like you’re spending 100’s and you are in dirhams, but you’re actually only spending about $27 USD when you convert it.

I believe Abu Dhabi prices their goods and service equivalent to the US or a bit higher pending the item. This was very disappointing because I hoped the dollar would go further, but what can you expect when you’re living one of the richest countries in the world. 

The other day Ray and I were in the grocery store picking up a few items before heading home for the night. We placed our items on the belt and the cashier gave us our total of 113.10 aed. Now, as mentioned above the smallest Fil is .25. So can someone tell me how in the world are we going to pay for our purchase without over paying or how would the cashier provide us with change if the smallest Fil is .25? We thought this was hilarious because it did not make any sense for the items to be priced in a way where it would produce totals that the fils could not cover. Sooooo…what exactly is the expectation here? Are we required to pay more than the items we worth or just walk away and let the store take the hit? Well, in this case there was an understanding between us and the cashier, even though she was reluctant, that 113 aed was enough. Crazy, huh? Now, the question still remains … why? The items should be price at .25 or .50 nothing else. This is just one of the things that make you drop your head and laugh to yourself or with the person with you.

Also, probably the number one thing that just drives us crazy on a daily basis is the fact that getting change is like some unspoken and forbidden act.  For some reason they (merchants) do not like giving change or breaking down a bill. Everywhere you go, no matter the bill they ask if you have a smaller bill. This is so frustrating because in most cases this is the reason why I gave them the bill so I can get change for this next person who will ask for a smaller bill. We always have to have it smaller bills on hand mainly because we need them for the taxis.   So now when asked if we have a smaller bill the answer is absolutely not.  And if you go into say an Adnoc (a gas station food store like Hess, BP, or Daily’s) to buy like a candy bar for 3 dirhams and pay with 100 dirhams, they might tell you that you either have to buy more or they can’t break the hundred.  Even with the cab drivers, it’s a risk handing them a hundred because they may not have change, and if they do you kinda feel bad because their body language make you feel like you’re doing something wrong, like your taking advantage of them by taking all of their money, even though you’re giving him a hundred dirhams!

A friend of ours told us they were in a coffee shop and a guy paid with a 1000 dirham bill. He was asked if he had anything smaller and he said no. Now, I do think that that was just wrong. He should have gotten a smaller bill for such a small purchase. The coffee shop had to come up with his change. Not sure how they deal with the high spenders here in Abu Dhabi?

The one good thing about the money here is that you do get to feel like a baller.  We carry 100 dirham bills all the time, and it does go quick.  Even though it is only $27 USD, you really do feel like you are packing hundreds on a daily basis. 

UAE from Above (Ray)

I came across a amazing video the other day about the U.A.E.  It gives a great overview, both literally and figuratively, of the Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and the five other Emirates.  It is filmed very well and for those that might not know much about this country, it is definitely worth a look.  It is about 26 minutes long, but if you just want to see Abu Dhabi and Dubai, those are the first two emirates covered for the first maybe 10 to 15 minutes.  The commentary is pretty good and the pictures are amazing.  Hell, it made me want to visit Abu Dhabi and I’m already here.  You will notice some of the places I have mentioned before on the blog.  Enjoy.

A Tiger in the Desert

Golf had never really been a sport I was all that interested in until a couple of years ago when I happened to tune into the Masters where I saw Tiger storming back from several places down to make a run at the trophy.  Unfortunately it didn’t go his way, but I was surprised that I was actually into it, into golf.  Prior to this I had joked about it all the time that I didn’t understand how anyone could watch golf on television.  It had to be the most boring sport ever invented and the easiest on the body, so pardon me if I don’t respect them as athletes.  That was my mindset.  But that as I said that changed it.

My mind further changed when Natova’s job, she was working for Samsonite at the time, offered her tickets to the The Players Championship golf tournament at Sawgrass while we were living in Florida.  The first couple of years she mentioned it, I was just not interested to actually leave my house to see people play golf.  I didn’t see myself as that into it.  But one year we did go, and I was impressed by how enjoyable it was.  Now it also may have had something to do with being in the clubhouse on the infamous seventeenth hole, and having food,  beverages, snacks, and whatever else we wanted.  We could sit outside on the patio, or hang inside and watch it on TV.  Not bad.  Unfortunately only about 20 minutes after we got there it started to rain.  We waited about an hour or so but eventually we called it a day, and shortly after so did the TPC. 

So I say all this to say we have a little experience going to golfing events.  I can only assume that’s what inspired Natova to volunteer for the Abu Dhabi Golf Championships, that and another couple, friends of ours, also signed up.  I initially said no.  I saw it too much like work at a time that figured I would just want to stay home and relax.  But when I went with them to the informational meeting at the golf course to pick up their uniforms, I must say I felt a bit left out (well that and the gear they were getting was actually pretty quality: two shirts, one red, one white, a light jacket, and a hat, all with the Abu Dhabi Golf Championship insignia.  All of it was well made.)  So I put my name on a list where they would call if they needed extra help.  Lo and behold, a couple days later I got the call.  I had Tova pick up my uniform the next day and we were all set for the tournament. 

As you would expect this is the biggest golf tournament in Abu Dhabi.  This year all the best golfers were going to be here, Rory McElroy, Adam Scott, Jason Day, and of course, Tiger Woods.  Natova was scheduled to work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, while I was only doing Friday and Saturday.  We didn’t know exactly what we would do until we got there, but it was good chance that we would be marshaling. A marshal is one of those guys that shush you when you are talking to loud while a golfing is taking a put, or teeing off or whatever.  We have paddle signs that read “Quiet please” on one side and “No cameras” on the other.   There are two types of marshals: a walking marshal and a stationary marshal.  Stationary marshals are assigned holes or landmarks on the course where they do not let patrons cross the course while a golfer is playing through.  The walking marshal follows a group of golfers around and act as their “shush” bodyguards for the course. 

Ironically, Natova was sick on the first day so she had to stay home, while I went out to work.  Both Erin, half of our couple friends, and I were scheduled for Friday around 11:00am.  Justin, the other half, was already there early. 

I have to talk about my first few minutes walking into the Golf Club.  Shortly after we got out of the car we walked up a small road around the clubhouse that lead to the greens.   Even before we got there, as we were walking up a path leading towards the practice tees,  I noticed this guy brush past me wearing a bright pink shirt.  He seemed to be booking it pretty fast, his strides carried him quickly to the clubhouse building shortly after he past me.   It may have been the shirt that caught my eye at first, and right before he past me I got a look at his face.  Now I don’t really watch golf that much, so I don’t know many of the players.  Most of these guys I wouldn’t recognize them …well…if they walked right past me.  But there are two that I would recognize.  One of course is Tiger Woods;  The other is Rory McElroy.  I remember him at the Masters, the same tournament that I mentioned a minute ago, where he had a commanding lead and absolutely buckled under the pressure and finished probably barely in the top ten at that tournament.  I heard that the next big tournament, the US Open,  he came back strong as ever and went on to win.  Now here he was walking past me in Abu Dhabi at the golf club.  Pretty cool.  He was followed by what I can only assume was his “people,” about five or six guys, one of them his caddy.  Interestingly, there were no fans trailing him, only the occasional head turn (it was funny to watch him walk past other people and they kind of had the same reaction as I did with that questioning look on their face like “Was that…?  No, couldn’t be… Hey guy’s I’m pretty sure that was Rory McElroy…”).

Why, do you ask, was no one paying attention to Rory? Yep, you guessed it, because everyone, and I mean everyone, was occupied at the practice tees watching Tiger hit a few.  That turned out to be the very next thing I saw right after Rory.   I walked up maybe a couple hundred feet and come upon this huge crowd of people lined up outside the barrier, trying to get a glimpse at Tiger.  We weren’t that far away from him, maybe thirty feet.   Everyone was snapping photos and getting video.  I could never get a clean shot of his face with my camera, but I took what I could. 

After a few minutes Erin and I went up to the volunteer headquarters to get our assignments.  Turns out that I will be a walking marshal.  It was weird when the lady told me because she said it like she half expected either a reaction or resistance.  I didn’t get it at the time but I think I figured out why later.  She told me I was with Group 31 and she didn’t know who that was but I needed to be at the first hole at 12:30 to tee off.

I got a sense that everyone that signed up to help was secretly or maybe not so secretly hoping that they won the volunteer lottery and got  assigned to marshal Tiger Woods’ group.  I’d be lying if I said as I checked the player’s groupings that I was not maybe sorta kinda hoping that I might have drawn Tiger.  That quickly went away as I saw that Tiger’s group was Group 25.   It was Tiger, Rory, and Luke Donaldson.  That would have been insane.  But as it stands I have Goya, Finch, and some other guy. After walking the golf course for a little while killing time, my tee time finally came and we began. 

I have never played golf before, not on a real golf course doing more than just trying to hit the ball.  As I watched these guys play it made me appreciate the game.  There is a lot skill involved in this game, something I knew before, but now got a chance to witness in person.  I also go my first experience of being a part of an entourage, a very low key entourage but an entourage nonetheless. The only people that followed us must have been the family of the golfers, only a handful of people, maybe 6 at the most.  I must say it felt kind of nice walking the course with these guys, professional golfers.   I just thought to myself man to do this for a living must be great.  It was a beautiful day on the course, the sun was shining a light breeze swept across the grass, it was pretty nice.  It was literally a walk in the park….at first.  Gradually the walking took its toll, particularly walking uphill.  The standing around waiting for the guys to play didn’t help either.  I knew we were in trouble when two and a half hours in we were only finishing the 9^th hole- and my legs and feet were starting to ache.   I was tired just following those guys around, and they were the ones actually playing.  I gained a new respect for golfers.  And to have to do it four days in a row, that has got to be tough.  Not to mention the emotional ups and downs that must drain you too.  It actually started to get pretty interesting at the end of the day when on hole 14 Finch was in third place, and then sunk a birdie on the 13^th that tied him for 2^nd with Tiger and couple of other golfers.   Unfortunately, he dropped back down to third a couple holes later which is where he finished for the Day 2.  Still it was a pretty good showing. 

Right after sundown, five hours after the first golfer teed off, the day was done and so was I.  I was surprised at how exhausted I was.  As a volunteer you have to commit to working two days but I had pretty much decided that I was going to be “sick” that next day.  As it turned out I didn’t have to.  When I got home and looked at the schedule for tomorrow many of the volunteers had been cut due to the fact that there were a lot of golfers that didn’t make the cut.  So I had the rest of the tournament off, and Natova didn’t work that day either, though she did work Sunday. 

We both went out as spectators on Saturday.  I wanted to experience the course without having to work and it was nice.  There was a great “village” for the fans with all the venders and exhibits, golfing tips and displays, etc.  There was also a big screen and lawn furniture where you could recline and just watch all the action on there. 

We walked the course and it wasn’t hard to spot Tiger’s group.  Here is a little tidbit that you may not know.  On TV should you ever happen by a golf tournament, when you see Tiger there are loads of people standing on the sides watching.  That’s because this is true, wherever Tiger is there are a few hundred people following.  I actually got some footage of his crowd moving.  What you may not know is that everywhere else is a complete ghost town because of it.  Tiger is like a human vacuum and he literally sucks all the fans in with only sprinkles of people everywhere else.  When I was marshaling, most of the time I felt like we were the only people on the entire golf course.  There was no one within sight.  Then eventually we would pass a hole where you can see in the distance just hoards of people chasing Tiger. 

We joined the crowd and came up with a strategy that allowed us to get pretty good views of the action.  After we saw the group at one hole we would skip the next hole, and go to the one after that.  That way we get a good spot to catch the action when they do get there.  That worked well for us and I was able to get a decent video of Tiger putting.  We actually weren’t  supposed to take pictures but many people ignored that fact and took them anyway.  I had enough decency to cloak my camera so they couldn’t see that I was recording, only holding my camera in my hand. 

This was a great day to come because there was a lot of drama.  Tiger had positioned himself toward the top within striking distance, and Rory was right there with him.  We watched at the last hole and Rory actually landed his approach behind a huge big screen display that would show the rest of the action on the course when there was no one on the hole.  He had to pick his ball up because it was impossible to try from that angle.  He still managed to savage par on the hole I believe.  So I got to watch Rory and Tiger battle it out on the 18^th hole.  Not a bad afternoon. 

Overall I would say I enjoyed it, both working and watching.  I will volunteer next year, probably the same days so I can just have one day that I work.  Looking forward to next year.  

To Bidet or not to Bidet?

There are two things I would like to establish here before I even begin this post.  The first is that if this your first time reading my blog, go no further, you have already read too much (especially if you are one of my former students).  I would hate for this post to be the first impression that you get of both my experience and of my blog.  Please go back a few at least and work your way up to this one.  The second is a disclaimer, one I feel obligated to include.

Now,  in this blog I swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  I want to be as honest as possible about my experience here.  So I would be remiss if I didn’t mention a most important and problematic part of that experience here:  which is of course…wait for it… the toilet situation.  So as my students would say back home, “its about to get real in here” and this uh… realness may not be the most pleasant to read (particularly while you’re eating).   With that said, let’s dig in shall we?

First of all, I had heard of the bidet before coming over.  I knew they were widely used in the U.A.E and that I would have one in the apartment where I was to live.  For those that are unfamiliar with this interesting contraption, chances are you have probably already seen them.  They look like a shallow toilet with a faucet attached to it.  And much like a water fountain water shoots out of it and the idea is that it will clean your nether regions after you finish using the toilet.  Now, I never quite got how you get completely clean from that, but I figure if the entire country is doing it, I’m sure there is some method to the madness.   Well, let me just say that I am actually more perplexed now than I was before I came over.

At least before there seemed to be the hope of something I didn’t know, but now that I have one and have attempted to use it, the whole situation just makes me scratch my head even harder.  First of all there is no seat on the bidet.  You don’t sit down on the thing at all.  No instead, these wonderfully designed objects makes you squat down onto the curved stream of water shooting out of the faucet.   So now you start out uncomfortable because it feels like you are doing endurance calisthenics. 

Now maybe in theory this should get you clean but in reality all you end up doing is creating an even worse situation.  The water pressure coming out of the bidet is not strong, at least not in the one in our house, and as a result it has the effect of dirt finding water.  Nothing gets washed away really, just made more wet and nasty.  I could give you the polite version and say you just don’t feel clean.  Or I could give you the “real” version and say that at this point you’ve got an uncomfortably wet behind with a moist residue of excrement floating between your buns.  Doesn’t sound like fun does it?  Its not.  So what do you do?  You’ve got a failed experiment on your hands and now all you want to do is clean yourself properly.   You stumble over to the toilet and use the toilet tissue, but guess what?  Apparently these toilets are not designed for tissue.  There is a good chance that everything you just dropped off will come right back up to visit you again.  When I had a conversation with the maintenance guy after having the toilet clogged, the first thing out of his mouth was “No, tissue!”   I’m sure he has answered many a call with a Westener on the other end of the phone calling about clogged toilets. 

But don’t worry, all is not lost.  Today, we are fine.   We don’t use the bidet, and tissue is okay as long as you don’t pile it in the toilet before you flush.  For every piece of tissue put in the commode, you have to flush it. 

The situation at the public restrooms isn’t any better, especially at my school.  I should mention that not all bathrooms have bidets in the U.A.E., some only have sprayers.  Yes sprayers, the same kind that you might find in a kitchen to do the dishes, or attached to a water hose.  And just like the water hose there is a nozzle on the wall where when you want to use it, you turn it on and when you are done, you turn it off.  This is what they have at my school.  First let me say that these are far superior to the bidet as far as general effectiveness.  Here you can actually adjust the pressure which helps in getting everything clean.  But this thing has other drawbacks.  The main one being that it leaves a puddle on the floor, which can be done a few ways.  The first is that the water sprayed just ends up coming out of the toilet, which for the person sitting down on this toilet, is a disastrous situation.  The hose is entered at the rear of the toilet (though there may be other methods to doing this- I never exactly struck up a conversation on this topic with other people), as you begin to get your bearings with your aim, the water could easily shoot past you and through your legs in the front of the toilet.  This is tragic because that means the water just landed on you dress pants around you knees or ankles and for the rest of the day you get to enjoy explaining to immature 11^th graders why there is a big wet spot on your pants.  Or, the water could take a more covert route and just dribble over the lip of the toilet bowl and collect into a puddle on the floor underneath your shoes, that is, of course, if there isn’t one there that its adding too.

 I might as well tell you that no matter what there is always a puddle of discolored water on the floor around the toilet, a puddle my colleagues and I have affectionately come to know as “a** water.”  The later in the day you go, the more likely you will find a nice puddle waiting for you.  Now what the contents of that tinted water is is anyone’s guess.  It could just be dirt, or urine, perhaps specks of fecal matter, or maybe a lovely cocktail of all three.  Regardless, you will have to have your feet in it whether you’re standing or sitting.  As you can imagine, the latter is the trickiest because there is a intricate dance you must perform where you try not to slide your pants too far down your leg or else your cuff will land in or skirt the disgusting liquid that’s already contaminated your shoes.   So you’re in this awkward position where you are sitting with your knees clenched together so the water from the hose doesn’t come out the other side (a position where you can almost literally feel your masculinity slipping away) and you are holding both pant legs up with one hand, while your other hand is literally tucked behind/under you, maneuvering this water hose to its intended target, which can be an adventure in itself, all the while teleporting yourself to your happy place trying to ignore both the sound of the sprayer in the next stall, now that you know what it is being used for, and the random scenes your imagination flashes in your head to help you answer the question that you have been trying to keep out of you mind the entire time, which is “how did this water surrounding my feet gain its wonderful pastel hue?” 

Sadly, I am not the only one dealing with this situation.  I have heard the female teachers teaching Kindergarten through third grade complain about the same thing.  In fact it may be a bit worse for them because they have to wear abayas to work (black robe-like covering worn by women over their regular clothes) and most of them usually touch the floor to cover their ankles.  So when they take these little kids to the bathroom, it’s pretty much unavoidable.  The bottom hem of their abaya is soaked with this nasty puddle.  And unfortunately for them, with the kids so young, that puddle is either less of a mystery because there is so much of one thing, like say urine- or worse-, or more of a mystery,  because there are so many things mixed together.  While they are in the bathrooms they say they try not to think about it, though as you would expect, there is a constant reminder once they leave because of the wet hem that is constantly brushing against their ankles and feet as they walk.  Yeah it’s pretty gross.

Well I hope you enjoyed our little excursion into the restroom practices of Abu Dhabi.  I have to include that it’s not always like this everywhere.  I have been in some pretty nice bathrooms while I have been here, so I don’t want my reader thinking that the entire city is living in filth.  But there certainly are some bathrooms out there that could stand for a good cleaning.  Anyway, this concludes my post.   It is recommended that you wait at least fifteen to thirty minutes before eating again.  ‘Till next time.