Newsletter 18 - August 9, 2005 (Tuesday)

Jan 18, 2006 12:26 PM

Newsletter 18

Finally I'm sending the next newsletter in the series.  I hope you 

enjoy it.

I'll be leaving in about an hour and a half for the 2-hour drive to

the airport in Dubai to fly to San Antonio, TX, for the American

Library Association Midwinter Meeting.  I'll return very late on 26

Jan.  I'll have access to email while I'm there so if anyone wants to

email me, please do!

Take care, all!

August 9, 2005 – Tuesday

It rained! Oh, how it rained! It was nearly 4:30 PM and I was working in the Maqam campus Art Library along with one Art circulation staffer and two Science reference staff when one of them got a phone call saying Khalifa Street was dark. When she relayed the news, I said, “Do you mean the electricity went out?” She said, “No, the wind is blowing sand everywhere; no one can see more than 2 meters in front of them!” Although Khalifa Street is nowhere near Maqam, we looked outside – there are ceiling-high glass walls on two sides of the library but they are covered with vertical blinds that are always shut to keep out the beating sun. But no sun was to be seen. The sky, which had been a grey overcast color all day, was sand brown and seemed to be lowering. Then the wind picked up. Within ten minutes we could hear loud thunder and then rain started falling followed by a drenching rain pouring down, coming in at about a 45-degree angle and kicking up small explosions of sand in the yard outside that shot out a distance of six to seven feet in a straight line. I watched as a puddle of water began forming close to the nearest building and spread wider and longer across the sand in an ink-splotch fashion, coming closer and closer to the sidewalk outside the library. The sand yard outside went from light sand color to dark brown and settled down flat instead of seeming to hover on the surface of the ground. The geometric patterned brick sidewalks lost their dusty look and became shining red and black octagons.

One of the staff ladies opened a section of vertical blinds and two of us stood near the exposed window for quite a while watching the spectacular sight. Then the other lady said, “The window is moving!” Sure enough, the window was bowing inward slightly, pushed by the force of the wind gusts. We quickly moved away from it and all of us watched from a distance as rain continued to fall. Then I saw a flash of lightning and told everyone to shut down their computers if they hadn’t already. One of the Science reference staff called from the nearby Science library saying a board had been blown off that library, and then one lady said something about a cracked window in the Art library and went to look at it. She pointed it out to me – I didn’t see a crack but I saw that rain was coming in along the seam of the window and checked a few other windows and saw that some of them were also leaking. Someone put a garbage can under a drip in front of the circulation desk. Finally the wind and rain slackened somewhat and we made our break, dashing out of the library and dodging deep puddles of water that had accumulated almost everywhere to get to cars to drive home.

One of the ladies gave me a ride home and she drove very carefully through and, whenever possible around, deep standing water in the parking lot, on the campus roads and finally on the main streets. There were several downed branches on sidewalks and in the streets and at least one tree down on the campus. But the rain held off even though the sky looked potentially threatening and it wasn’t raining near my building when she dropped me off. I went inside my flat to near darkness. My new curtains were effectively cutting off any dim light that was visible outside.

And that brings me to the next episode in the curtain saga. The curtain man had promised delivery of the curtains at 6 PM on Monday. I had tossed and turned all Saturday night trying to think how to handle what might be a personal situation arising with the curtain man that I definitely wanted to avoid while at the same time still desperately wanting my curtains. I finally decided to talk to Brian about inviting his wife B, who had recently arrived in the UAE, to come visit me that evening. When I talked to him at work the next morning, I ended up saying, “She can bring the kids if she wants, you can come, too. Any or all of you are welcome.” They ended up accepting the invitation for the whole family and said they’d bring pizza. I was delighted! It seemed the perfect solution.

The family arrived about 6:15 and no curtain man or curtains were there or had anyone from the curtain shop been heard from. Brian introduced me to his family and thus I met the four little ones I’ll be tending on Wednesday evening – Sunday had turned out not to be a good day for Brian and B to go out to dinner to celebrate their wedding anniversary so it was agreed that Wednesday would be the time. About half an hour after they arrived, when the children were playing with toys they’d brought along and we three adults were enjoying a good conversation, the curtain man called. He’d been doing a job in Dubai all day and had started back in time to get here by 6:00, he said, but then it started to pour rain and he couldn’t see 1 meter in front of him. Traffic on the freeway was nearly at a standstill. It took two hours longer than usual to travel from Dubai to Al Ain... (I would surely hear about it on the television tonight, he added.) He had only just got back in town. But he had promised to deliver the curtains and he would come!

He arrived about half an hour later and looked as if he truly had been working all day and then driving through pouring rain. His exuberance was greatly subdued but he apologized grandly for being late and again explained the circumstances. I could see that he was very, very surprised to hear children’s voices and then see Brian standing just inside the majlis doorway. Rallying, he went to shake hands with and greet Brian. In doing so he saw B sitting on the two-seater near the window and went over and shook her hand, too, then shook the hand of the oldest child. The two little boys started darting around behind me and over to their father and I said, “As you can see, they have four beautiful children.” “Yes, I see,” said the curtain man. He then said his men were downstairs and would bring everything up and start working. It would only take one hour, he said. “Only one?” I asked. He had told me in the shop it would take two hours. But he assured me it would take one hour. I thought to myself, “We’ll see.” He asked me where I’d like them to start and I said in the back of the house first because my guests and I were using the front part. So the workers hauled their stuff into the back hallway and the office. After the checking that the workers had started and had all they needed, the curtain man told me he would return later and then he left. I don’t know if all the company drove him away or if, as I suspect, he was heading home for dinner and a rest.

That’s when my guests and I broke out the pizza and had our dinner. The children sat very quietly at the table and ate. They are incredibly well-behaved and the entire family is very soft-spoken, even the parents when reprimanding the children. At one point, one of the little boys did something he shouldn’t have and was sent to stand in the corner of the room. He cried and cried because he was being punished. At the end of his time in the corner, his mother started talking very quietly to him and he turned to face her, still in the corner. When they had discussed it, on his level, he was “released” and was fine the rest of the evening.

At one point I went to check on the workers. The vertical blinds in the office had already been hung and they looked great! I was very impressed. They had installed the rail and brackets for the verticals in the side bedroom and had just begun to hang the first vertical slat. I went back to my company. B is very pleasant with an easy-going personality and a great match for Brian. They obviously have a very good relationship with their children, who are so much quieter than my daughter’s three that I was amazed.

Finally it was just after 9:00 and the workers were still going strong when my guests decided it was time to go. But first I invited them to look at the vertical blind in the office. They were very impressed (it goes nearly from the ceiling to the floor and strikes a nice note of color against the white walls, ceiling and floor and the color goes nicely with the desk. B, who had been talking about how she doesn’t like curtains on windows, started talking about the possibility of getting some verticals. They had already cleaned up the eating area after themselves nicely and so, with many expressions of goodwill and comments about having enjoyed the evening on all our parts, they left.

Brian had brought me my electricity bill, which is delivered to me at work but somehow he ended up with both his and mine and since I was at Maqam at the time he received them, he just brought it with him to dinner. I nearly fainted when I read the amount on the bill. After paying 23 dh on my last bill, for 2/3 of a month, I was not prepared for an electricity bill this time of 456 dh! After they left, I went downstairs to check my electricity meter and saw that, unfortunately, the bill was likely to be right. Even worse is that the current reading on the meter, compared to the reading on the bill, indicates that so far I’ve used even more electricity since the last reading than I was billed for on the current bill. So the next bill is going to be out of sight!

The curtain hangers were still going strong. When I went back to check on them after my guests’ departure, they were in the master bedroom with the rail, sheers and one curtain up and the other curtain almost ready to hang. I peeked in the side bedroom and saw the vertical blind rail still in place and all of the slats rolled up inside a small clear plastic bag. I asked them about it. One of the two men seemed to speak no English and the other has only a few words. With minimal words and a lot of gestures he let me know that the slats were too short, so they would bring the right ones “tomorrow.”

When they finished in the master bedroom, they moved out to the majlis and got started. It was at least 10:00 by that time and I was definitely dragging. They seemed to be, too, but they kept going. One of them did all the hanging and the other one put curtain hooks into the curtains, a laborious and time-consuming task. Since my only alternative to sitting in the majlis while they worked, which I didn’t think was appropriate, was go into my office – with the new vertical blind! – I did that and fired up the laptop. That kept me busy during most of the rest of the time. Eventually the curtain man showed up again and I pointed out to him that one of the master bedroom curtains seemed to be slightly higher than the other. He said the rod was slanted and they would fix it. I wasn’t happy with how short they were – they don’t completely cover the balcony door. It wasn’t until I went to bed later that I realized also that the light from the streetlight across the street pours in under the curtains. Not acceptable! They are going to have to completely lower the curtain rod. The main reason I wanted curtains, and I had made this very plain to the curtain man from our first meeting, was to have total darkness in the master bedroom at night so I could sleep well.

After a little problem with the curtain rod over the balcony door in the majlis – it had to be replaced because it wasn’t working right – the curtain hanger moved to the small window and finally to the main window. I realized about then that none of the curtains in the majlis is hemmed along the inside edge – all have selvage edges or actually self edges, smooth and straight but with no hem and they do not at this time hang straight or close entirely. The curtain man said they would come again tomorrow night [tonight, as I write] to bring the vertical blind for the side bedroom and the cooker table and would also bring a “big iron” and iron the wrinkles out of the curtains. He said he had a big job to do in Sharjah tomorrow and would call me when he got back. Or I could call him after work. Well, now its tomorrow and I just tried calling him; his mobile is either switched off or he is outside the coverage area. So.

Anyway, I paid him all the money last night. I’m now thinking that was not such a good idea. I should have held some back because that would have been incentive for him to finish the job. Now it could take forever to get the side bedroom verticals, the cooker table and the ironing job for the curtains done. I won’t be here tomorrow evening unless he comes at 5:00 and finishes by about 6:00 because at about that time I am going to go to Brian & B’s to watch their children while they go out for their anniversary. Then it will be the weekend and then on Saturday the new week will begin and my cleaner will be here after work. Well, we’ll see.

When I paid the curtain man, I also asked him about the cooker table and he said it would be ready tomorrow [today]. He walked into the kitchen to show me what color it would be. Not the creamy yellow of the cabinets as the table maker had hoped but the more beige color of the tile walls. Was that all right? I said it was fine. I don’t particularly care, actually. I just want a table for that cooker!

Then he saw the photos I’ve attached by magnets to my refrigerator. “Are these your grandchildren?” Yes. “Who is this?” My youngest brother and his wife. He paused, looking at a photo of me and my siblings, all seven of us, with my sister and me in the center of the line flanked by our five brothers and wanted to know which of the men in the photo was my youngest brother. I showed him. Then he asked, “Your sister?” and point at Diane. Yes. How he made the guess is beyond me because in that photo, taken in January 1998, we were both thin as rails [she still is] and I certainly am not thin now. Then he pointed out that some of my brothers were balding, as he is bald. I said yes [sorry, guys!] and added, “Also my father.” He looked at the pictures of my children with their families but didn’t ask so I pointed to Gina and said, “My daughter.” He seemed surprised and said, “Your daughter?” as he peered closely at her likeness then said something like, “She’s lovely, like her mother.” I have to admit that Gina looked especially nice in the photo (she’s always beautiful) but I thought he was stretching the truth a great deal by lumping me together with her in looks. If he meant it to be a compliment to me, I ignored it. Then I pointed out the photo of my son Rob’s family and the curtain man marveled over Rob for a while but only said, “Your son?” I think he was impressed. Rob is a big guy, nice looking, and has a great smile.

Finally the curtains were all hung and had been duly admired. I have to admit that the colors of the blackout and the sheers in the majlis are magnificent and look great with the couches. Then the curtain hanger enthusiastically and precisely demonstrated on one curtain exactly how the folds will be made and a general idea of the overall look of majlis curtains when the handles and ropes are attached (they, too, to be delivered tomorrow). At this, I again told the curtain man that I could not pay for them and he had assured me this is something he wanted to do for me. I had the sudden feeling that I was moving through molasses. No matter how much I tried, I always ended up in the same place when he started talking about the cost. I asked him if he wanted his money. He said anytime, anytime. I said, “Now.” He just happened to have his receipt book with him. When I mentioned the fact, he said he always has one with him in his car. He whipped it open and sat down on far end of the two-seater, which had been scooted half-way to the doorway to make room for the ladder at the window behind it. I sat on the far distant side of the three-seater, at right angles to, and at a distance from, him. When he started to write out the bill, the curtain hanger, who was standing in the hallway just outside the doorway to the majlis looking at us, said something in Arabic.

The curtain man looked at him and then at me and said, “He hung six new curtain rails.” I just looked at him and said softly and in dismay, “Six?” I doubt he had figured in the cost of six curtain rails into the price although I’m sure he knew he would have to replace at least some of them, and in fact they had actually brought that many with them since they had indeed hung six of them. He didn’t up the agreed-upon price, however. But I think he might have been regretting his largess. He handed me the receipt and I handed him the money in an envelope, which he took without opening. I asked if he were going to count the money. He didn’t seem to want to but started to open it, saying something like, “It wouldn’t matter if it is empty. I trust you.” He glanced inside, counted the five 500 dh bills and closed the envelope. I noticed that the curtain hanger didn’t move throughout this episode and later realized he was probably making sure that the unrelated male and female were not left together in a room alone. Then the curtain man stood up and the two workers started carrying the ladder, their tools and all the leftovers out to the vehicle they had come in. Then, with the door to my flat standing wide open, me inside and the curtain man outside on the landing at a distance of about three feet, he bade me farewell, promising to return tomorrow after finishing in Sharjah. I closed, locked and bolted the door and looked at my watch. It was 11:00.

I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open but managed to get ready for bed only to fall asleep saying my prayer and finally surfaced briefly and dragged myself into bed when the clock read almost 12:30. It wasn’t until about 5:00 AM when I woke up, that I noticed the light coming in under the curtains. It was too much. I covered my eyes with the sleep cloth, turned my back to the curtains and tried to get back to sleep. Today was a long, long day at work and if either the curtain man and/or his crew comes late tonight or he doesn’t call until late to tell me he can’t come, I won’t be worth anything tomorrow, or tomorrow night watching B&B’s kids. I’ll try calling him again in about 15 minutes and then keep trying every half hour for a while if I don’t hear from him. I am very, very ready to have the curtain episode over and done with!

Well its 7:18 and I just made contact with the curtain man. He sounded exhausted and said he was in Dubai, something about moving his cousins and he had talked to the carpenter and the table would be delivered tonight and he wanted to come to make sure everything was right, etc., etc., etc. I tried to confirm if it would be tonight and he said, “I’ll try,” which probably is the polite Arab way to say “no” without actually saying it. He repeated a couple of times that he would call. He sounded as if he couldn’t talk freely; I thought I heard water running in the background and it had taken him quite a few to rings to answer the call. But at least he did answer it so I can assume that he’s not overtly trying to avoid either me or finishing the job, hopefully. I actually do trust him in the business sense which is why I have pursued the purchase albeit over a long period of time. As long as he keeps the part that seems to me to be excessively personal to a minimum and restricts it to words only, I should be able to deal with it.

Now a few words about library’s driver. He is the one who has been driving me to the Maqam campus from ZCL almost every day. He is quite an exuberant fellow and his English is very good in some respects and utterly confusing in others. One day I asked him where he was from and I thought he told me he was from a small town in another emirate in the UAE and something about having a house and his parents there. So I assumed he was an Emirati. Then today I asked him to tell me again the name of the town he was from – I’d been trying to remember and couldn’t. He told me he was Indian! I was utterly startled, “Indian?” I asked. “Yes.” Then, as the conversation progressed he admitted that he had studied [that usually means attending college/university] in India. Studied what? “Math and computers”! I was amazed and almost asked him what he was doing working as a driver when he had that background but stopped myself. I didn’t want to cross a red line, as they call forbidden territory. I’m assuming it is because he is not an Emirati. The further the conversation went, as he drove at a very fast pace toward Maqam and I sat in the back passenger seat, the more convoluted it became. The final outcome, if I got it right and he was being accurate, is something like this. His parents are Palestinian (I didn’t pursue this to learn if they had every actually lived in Palestine) but he said has never been there. He was born in Abu Dhabi [but isn’t Emirati because his parents aren’t], he studied in India and he has an Egyptian passport. I didn’t even attempt to learn how that came about. I just laughed in amazement at this plethora of nations and told him he was a multinational and he seemed to enjoy that designation.