Newsletter 8 - July 6, 2005

Aug 14, 2005 11:54 AM

Newsletter 8

Here is the next installment.  I know I'm sending 7 and 8 close together but I'm trying to catch up to date.  I hope it doesn't

overwhelm you.

Let me know if there is anything you're interested in learning about where I am or the culture, etc., and I'll try to address it in future

editions. And, if you want me to take you off the mailing list, let me know that, too.  I won't be offended.

July 6.

Well, today I had planned to visit the Maqam libraries (the libraries on the girl’s campus where I will eventually be working) and had that on my mind when I was at my desk in Zayed Central Library while waiting for Ali, the driver, to take me to Maqam so I forgot to check my bank account online to see if my paycheck had been deposited. Once in the university vehicle, I was pleased to learn that that Ali had to make a stop first at HR. He has taken me many places since I arrived, getting me to places I needed to go for paperwork, health checks, etc., and running interference for me. He asked if I wanted to go inside HR while he got the thing he’d come for and say hi to Ahmed, my HR representative. I did, and got out of the vehicle – it’s like a jeep. As I walked up the steps I suddenly remembered I was supposed to get paid today (the pay hadn’t been in the account on Monday and Ahmed had checked with Finance again and received their solemn promise it would be on deposit on Wednesday (the last day of the work week). That’s today. So I went to Ahmed and asked him if the money had been deposited; he checked again with Finance and learned that instead of the money being deposited, a check had been issued! I could go pick it up from the cashier. While I was there I also checked with Housing because although “Omar” and the handyman had come on that second night, the handyman was supposed to have come back last night to fix the gap under the bedroom patio door but hadn’t come. The man there said he would contact the manager and asked if I’d be there this evening at the same time. I said no, but the man could come tomorrow morning, Thursday – the first day of the weekend.

Ali got to the Finance office by driving across the street (involving a legal U-turn, going through the backside of the campus of the Islamic Institute, one of the university campuses and attended only by males, and pulled into a parking space in front of the office building and between it and a guard station through which we would have had to pass had we come in from the main street. Once inside the building, Ali gestured me to the immediate left while he took off to the right on an errand. There was a row of tinted glass cashier windows above a counter chest high to me. I vaguely saw a small, older-looking bearded man in white dishdasha and white turban seated behind one of the windows. There was a gap of about two inches between the counter and the glass. I bent down to talk to him through that opening. After a few questions and answers he gestured me to move to my left. To my chagrin, I found a gap of about two inches going straight up between two panes of glass which allowed me to stand upright, see him clearly and speak without interference. Duh! He looked through several stacks of checks, made a phone call, looked through more stacks of checks, made another phone call, looked again, and finally found my check. By this time, Ali was back and he acted as interpreter for me. When I had confirmed that the check was for the right amount (pay for my first 19 work days) and included my shipping allowance, was assured that future pay would be deposited into my account, the check was signed for and safely in my wallet, we were off – finally – to Maqam. Now I have to figure out a way to deposit my check. The bank closes at 3:00 today and I will be at Maqam until after that time. I’ll have to go tomorrow before or after the handyman comes, which will hopefully be before the bank closes at 2:00.

After work, and the reason I couldn’t go home to let in the handyman today, was that I planned to go to the Post Office and then to Sanaiya, an area of Al Ain where the “middle class” lives and where there are supposedly good places to buy or arrange for specially made anything, like furniture, curtains, etc. I am desperate to get curtains for my flat because I’m tired of having the sun beating into the majlis and kitchen in the morning and into the bedrooms in the afternoon not to mention the bright street light directly across from my bedroom shining in through the glass patio door all night, as well as the lack of privacy – I have to change clothes in the bathroom.

Brian from the library, who is seeking furniture and furnishings to get his villa ready for the arrival of his family, accompanied me on this venture. Once in Sanaiya, I went to Airport 2000, a store Sharon had taken me to, to see about draperies while Brian window shopped nearby. I left after getting a quotation of 1,100 dh (down from the original 1,300 and first lowered to 1,200) without making a commitment because I have no idea if that is a good price or not.

Then we both went into another store that he had spotted that was for curtains only. The man in there was quite a character. He listened to what I wanted to look at and showed me several sample books, then told me he owned a furniture shop right behind that shop where they would make anything I wanted and that his brother owned a shop nearby where there were even more sample books to look at. Did we want to go there? We said okay, so he grabbed some sample books I’d liked and we went outside and got into his car and drove around the corner and to the next street, parked the car, and went into another shop.

Just inside the door to one side was quite a nice partially-built coffee table, to the left were several men crowded around a desk discussing something and straight ahead some draperies on display and, under a balcony were places to sit and view sample books and a showroom of bedroom suites. We were invited to be seated and were shown a deluge of sample books. I finally chose two possible fabric samples and then asked if he would come to my flat to measure all my windows and give me an estimate on making draperies for them. He agreed. He and Brian took the two sample books, another book with drapery designs in it and a book of tassels and we went outside and got into a different car than the one we had come in – possibly his brother’s.

He took off in a direction directly away from my flat. We finally figured out he was heading toward the area where Brian said he lived and had to get him turned around heading toward Jahily, but we eventually got to my flat. He had a measuring tape in hand and Brian had sample books. I went ahead and unlocked the door and invited them in. The man measured the windows in the Majlis and I leafed through the design book looking for something that I liked. Then he measured the other windows and we talked about what I wanted. In the kitchen he even measured for a small table for my cooker, which he said he or his brother or someone could make. Back in the majlis, he came up with grandiose idea for doing a kind of reverse L shaped drapery that would cover both the larger main window and the smaller one which is at right angles to it. He said he would do a similar one for the glass patio door, too. I asked him to work up drawings and estimates for me with and without everything - single-window treatment, full sweep treatment, sheers, blackout (that is, white fabric backing to keep out the sunlight and heat), etc. Brian stuck it out until nearly the end and then just as the man was gathering up sample books to leave, Brian left first. We shook hands at the door and I told him how to get to the street to catch a taxi. The man then left, promising to call me soon with the results.

After he left, I remembered about going to the Post Office. It stays open until 8:00 and it was just after 7:00 so I got my purse and headed out to catch a taxi. There has been construction going on near the PO since I’ve been here and tonight I noticed with delight that numerous new date palm trees – tall ones – had been planted on both sides of the corner where the PO is and along the street and median nearby as well. They must have just been planted because they were all wearing “coats” of burlap around the fronds from where they sprout out of the trees and going about half way up the greenery. They looked really cute, like babies bundled in blankets for the night. I got to the PO in time to buy stamps for post cards to the US and mail a form to SC. Then I decided to walk along the brightly lighted streets just to look in shop windows. I walked to the corner, where the construction has been ongoing and noticed newly set brick sidewalks and lovely wrought iron lamp posts – not lacy style but sturdy lamp posts, black with gold painted relief. Right hear the crosswalk I saw a lovely stanchion like a horse hitching post in the same black and gold reaching about as high as my waist. When I looked at it closely because of its location on the sidewalk near the corner, I saw near the top knob a button to press – for pedestrians to signal they were waiting to cross the street! Beautiful, decorative and useful!

After walking several “blocks” I found myself in front of the hardware store Sharon had introduced me to and praised as having the least expensive prices in town. I’ve already bought from there twice, including my “4” for the front door. I went inside and bought a small can of glossy cream colored paint to use in my bathrooms – I’ll explain more that later – a small paint brush and a can of paint thinner. While I was there, just about to pay, my mobile phone rang and it was the drapery man. He asked me a few more questions – did I want the same fabric in my bedroom? (I don’t know – give me an estimate for the same and for different.) What about fabric for the patio door in the side bedroom? (I’m not sure; maybe I want vertical blinds instead, as I do in the office.) Then he rang off, promising to call me when he had the drawings and estimates. I paid for the stuff, 10 dh (about $2.70) for paint and brush, 7 dh (less than $2) for thinner. Then I caught a taxi home and fixed dinner at last. When I got home I noticed that the marble slabs for fixing my side bedroom patio door were lying near my outside door. I hadn’t noticed if they’d been there when the drapery man came but I realized the handyman had been there at sometime. I hope he’ll be back tomorrow early enough for me to get to the bank before it closes.

July 8 Saturday

This is the first workday of the week. My weekend was busy. On Thursday morning the handyman came bright and almost early and finished his work in time for me to go to the bank, deposit my paycheck and withdraw a certain amount of cash that I wanted to take to the Thomas Cook agency to have sent to my bank account in the states. I took a taxi to Choithram’s, which is a high-end grocery store. Sharon lives in a flat above the store; it is very common for there to be one to three floors above street-level stores containing either businesses or flats or both and hers is one in an entire two-year-old complex of very beautiful flats above the store. I knew from a walking tour she took me on, starting at her building, that I could find Thomas Cook but I wasn’t sure enough of the exact location to direct a taxi driver so I got out at Choithram’s and walked until I found it. I now know it is near the flyover (overpass over the road) and just outside the entrance/exit for the subway which is not a rail system but an underground walkway for getting to any of the four corners of extremely busy and wide intersections without dodging traffic. There are also shops and a café down there. Two of the ways you can leave the subway are marked, “To Gold Souq,” “To Fish and Vegetable Souq” (Souq means market.)

I saw Thomas Cook Agency from directly across the street and went down into the subway to get to it. Once down there, I had to make a guess as to which exit to use and fortunately chose the right one. I glanced at the shops as I made my way to the exit. There were a small electronics shop, a place selling the extremely thick and heavy blankets they use here in the winter, a couple of material shops (called textile shops) and a nice looking café right in the center of the circle around which were the shops and the exits. As I came out into the sunlight before turning to mount the steps to street level I saw the sign posted on the wall straight ahead, in English and Arabic, “Do Not Throw Garbage or Spit in the Subway.” On the street at the top of the steps were some shade trees, thankfully, because it was extremely hot, and then steps going up to the building where the agency was.

As I walked into Thomas Cook, there was a short row of chairs to my immediate left with some women in colorful saris sitting in them and in front of them along the long wall was a low counter behind which three employees sat and at least three stood. To the right was a short bank of three cashier’s windows. Everyone looked up at me, kind of surprised, when I entered and I looked around at them. Finally I said something like, “I hope you can help me. Do you speak English?” That broke the ice and all the employees smiled and said “yes” and “can I help you?” I went to stand in front of the man at the far end on the left and he asked what I wanted to do. I explained that I wanted to change some dirhams to a cashier’s check in dollars and have it sent to my bank in the states. He took it in stride (that is the kind of thing Thomas Cook offices all over the world do) but it turned out to be very complicated.

First I had to buy a membership card – good for a lifetime, he said – for 10 dirhams (about $2.50), then I had to fill out an information form and show some identification. I chose to use my passport and then he entered my information in the computer, including my bank account information that I’d be sending the money to, assuring me that once this was done, from then on the transactions would take very little time because the information would be in the computer. One of the standing employees took my picture for the card (every place here takes pictures and issues cards; I have acquired at least 8 cards with my picture on them – so far!). He misspelled my first name (no I before the C) and I pointed it out and then the light dawned and I looked closely at my passport and lo, it is misspelled there! That is why everyone and every place here has been getting it wrong. Trust the good old US govt!

He changed it on my record and gave me a temporary membership card until the official one comes in the mail. Then he counted my dirhams and figured out the equivalent dollar amount and gave me a receipt. I had to take it with a whole slew of other paperwork and my dirhams and my temporary card five feet across the office to a cashier, who took the dirhams and then somehow one of the standing employees from the other side of the room arrived with a cashier’s check which he handed to the cashier although he was standing right next to me. The cashier took it and gave me a receipt to sign, handed me the check and instructed me to take it back to the first man.

I did and I handed over the check and then I had to give him the mailing address and name of the person at my bank to whose attention the check would be sent. The check was made out on the Bank of New York and was made payable to my order. As he slid the check inside a DHL mailing envelope he asked, “Don’t you want to put another piece of paper in here?” Smiling wanly, I got out a deposit slip for the account it was going to, filled it in and handed it to him. He placed it in the envelope then sealed and addressed the envelope. Then he filled out another form – a DHL shipping label as it turns out – and I had to sign it and fork over 40 dirhams (about $10) for the DHL service. Then I paid my 10 dirham membership fee and took all my receipts and, dazed, left the office with many good wishes following me out the door. Sharon always transfers her funds this way and says it is less costly than doing a telegraphic transfer from the bank here to the one in the states because there is a charge on both ends that way. This way, my bank will just deposit the check, which is drawn on a US bank, just the same way they would any other check in US dollars. Today I emailed the branch manager of my credit union to expect the DHL envelope within the next few days. Thomas Cook guarantees the transaction so if the check gets lost or whatever, they will make it good.

Once outside, I saw a sign for the Al Ain Cooperative Market which I’d heard about but didn’t know the exact whereabouts of. The sun was even hotter by then and although I had on sun block, a sunhat, sunglasses, my neck cooler (more about this later) and was using an umbrella, I had not brought water and was really feeling the heat. The co-op inside reminded me of an early day Sam’s, with large sacks of rice and other large sized items stacked up in the food area on the lower floor. I decided to go up the escalator because I saw electronics up there and was still in the market for a telephone. I got up there and began looking around when I felt a severe attack of “traveler’s tummy” coming on. I immediately hurried down the escalator, which wasn’t working, so it was like taking stairs, out the door, across the street one way then across a street intersecting it. The traffic was nearly stopped and was backed up and there were a lot of taxis waiting in traffic. I caught the eye of the driver of one that had no passengers and got in. I wasn’t in good shape and was praying hard that I’d make it home before it was too late. Fortunately the taxi’s air conditioning was on, which helped me feel a little better, and once we got away from the bottleneck under the flyover, getting to my flat was fairly quick. I got upstairs as fast as I could and headed straight for the blue bathroom.

I spent the next several hours drinking lots of water and trying to cool off. When I felt better, I called the water delivery service and asked for two bottles of water to be delivered since I thought Thursday was their regular delivery day in my area. They agreed to come right away and said they would replace my empty bottle and bring a second one for which I’d be charged a 25 dirham deposit. I’d need to turn over two pre-paid coupons to pay for the water in the bottles. I have a book of 10 coupons so that was no problem. While I was waiting for them to come, the “drapery man” called and said he had my estimates ready. He could fax them, I could come get them or he’d bring them – whichever I wanted. Since I have no fax and was waiting for the water to come, I asked him to bring it, along with the fabric sample books I was considering samples from.

The water came soon and not long afterward the drapery man came. He walked in, placed the sample books on the couch, handed me a sealed envelope with the estimates within and hurried away before I could pull them out of the envelope. When I opened it, I was somewhat alarmed at the cost he’d quoted. For regular drapes and blackout for 5 rooms and vertical blinds in one room, 4,400 dirhams; for lined drapes, custom valances, sheers, ropes and handles in 5 rooms and vertical blinds in the office, 5,500 dh.

I was in a quandary so I fired up the computer to do some typing and some thinking. In the early evening Rebecca called and asked if I’d like to do dinner. I was feeling well enough by then that I agreed and we decided to go to a Lebanese restaurant she knew. At 7:00 we met in front of the bank we both use and went to the restaurant next door. The food was very good. I had mixed grill so I could try a little of everything since I’d never had Lebanese food before. The waiter recognized Rebecca as having been in there before (she’s very attractive and the males, although very circumspect, certainly notice her). She later said, “This is a very small town. People remember you.” I don’t think I’ll be remembered so easily but we’ll see. One interesting thing about the restaurant is that they have “family rooms” where families can be served in privacy (and where I suppose the national women can remove their veils to eat) and where children will not be disturbing the other patrons. We had a quiet and very leisurely meal.

When the waiter came to remove our plates he said to Rebecca, “You have been in here four times, haven’t you? We will give you some complementary tea.” We were served hot tea topped with mint leaves in handled clear glass cups about three inches high and 1-1/2 inches across. I know the tea was hot because I felt the side of the glass with the back of one finger. I don’t drink tea (my religion forbids it) but Rebecca drank some of hers and seemed to enjoy it. After we paid for the meal and were leaving, the waiter saw us (Rebecca, actually) to the door saying thank you and then, “Come back every time.”

Then we walked around the corner and went into Al Falah Plaza, typical of the “everything” stores found here in abundance. This type of store sells groceries on the ground floor and then on other levels sells other merchandise in a sort of department store setting. First we went to the third floor to look at electronics and I finally bought a telephone. Then we went to the basement to buy an adapter for the phone because it has an American-style plug and the phone jacks here are UK style. I also bought a light bulb for the new lamp I bought in Abu Dhabi last week and some stick-on wall hooks. Then Rebecca did some grocery shopping on the main level and I tagged along.

At one point we were in the fresh produce section and I was goggling at the unusual and interesting foods available there, such as tiny round eggplants, some very wrinkled cucumbers (they grow that way), some of the plum colored fruit I’d had at the Hilton buffet, etc. As I walked past one display, a man pushing a cart going the other way said to me, “Hello, how are you?” in English. I looked at him in astonishment and mumbled, “Fine, thank you.” I didn’t know him and was very puzzled about why he had spoken at all, and in English. Then I looked around the very crowded room where people were intently inspecting and selecting produce and realized I was the only Western person in the entire room. Everyone else had black hair (including Rebecca who is Chinese) and only Rebecca and I wore western style clothing. I must have stood out like a sore thumb. When I mentioned to Rebecca that I was the only westerner there she said, "It’s no problem,” and of course it wasn’t. No one bothered me or treated me unkindly or was rude; I was just one of the crowd. After leaving there, I caught a taxi home and Rebecca, after seeing me off, headed off to walk back to her flat, which is in town.