Things I do in Abu Dhabi that I've never done so frequently elsewhere:

• Take taxis. In New York, I drove. In Atlanta, I walked. Mexico, I knew the bus system like the back of my hand. San Francisco: bicycle (oh, how I miss it). Abu Dhabi: I walk up to the bus stop, but I catch a cab. Every time. I won't lie: I love it. It's reasonably cheap, faster than the bus, and safer than attempting to commute on two wheels.
• Eat falafel & hummus. Heaven in mah mouth.
• Bite my tongue. It ain't easy, but swearing is illegal, so no telling off that jack-ass driver who almost ran you down in the parking lot. And no middle fingers either. (Hear that, Chad?)
• Not smile. On more than one occasion, smiling at strange men in public has led to being followed, likely under the impression that I am for hire. Sorry, gents, but now I'm stone-faced.
• Get mistaken for a prostitute. See above.
• Do yoga. I have *a lot* of free time right now, and thanks to my lovely friend Rachel, I get to fill some of it with yoga in the comfort of my own home. Good stuff.
• Skype with my in-laws. They are so lovely. I love them. And I love seeing their pixelated faces via the wonders of Skype.
• Burn baked goods. My convection oven and I are still working out some kinks in our relationship.
• Drink camel milk. Makes the burnt baked goods go down more easily.
• Turn on the air conditioner. It's November and still hits the 90s during the day, 'nough said.

Modern Warfare & Butter: A Quiet Saturday In

After what felt like a big social weekend for me & Adam (read:going out two nights in a row with new people--gasp!), we made sure today would be a lazy Saturday.

We ventured outside in the morning (my only time out of the apartment the entire day) to stock up on the necessary lounge-around goods at the Abu Dhabi Co-op Society: Play Station 3 and ingredients for my first-ever batch of cinnamon buns.

It was a traditionally genderific day indeed: Adam killed virtual dudes (and some ladies) playing Modern Warfare for many hours, while I baked away in the kitchen. This evening, we feasted on shawarma and the most *insanely* delicious sugary things I think I've ever created. It was a good day.

Got the word on the Pioneer Woman blog from an awesome new person I met dune bashing yesterday (more on the bashing of dunes to come).

To be sure, the only healthy thing in the entire cinnamon bun recipe is the second item from the left, the soy milk. Everything else is pretty evil -- in the most delicious way, of course.

Evil Exhibit A: Butter, and LOTS of it.

We're waiting to get all brown and warm and ooey gooey, thankyouverymuch.

The finished product. If only blogs had scratch & sniff functionality, I'd woo you all over to Abu Dhabi with the smell of this photo alone.

Happiness is a warm cinnamon bun.

Cinnamon bun stats: 3 for me & Adam tonight, 2 for Ruth, 1 for Trinidad, 7 for Adam's Al Jazira coworkers, and 6 more in the fridge for... I need more friends, or I'm gonna be in trouble with all these buns around!

Here's a link to Pioneer Woman's recipe for those of you who dare to dream the buttery, sweet dream of homemade cinnamon buns.

Oh, and the baking.

I forgot to list tackling the challenges of convection-oven baking as one of the things I like about Abu Dhabi. Just finished baking vegan banana peanut butter cocoa cookies. Adam's verdict: "These cookies aren't messing around."

Frances: 1, Black & Decker: 1 — hey, good cookies are a win-win situation!

The final product with camel milk, of course.

Monday Morning Likes List

I've hit a rather rough patch in my Abu Dhabi acculturation. It's mostly due to missing the people I love at home. Y'all make it tough to be away, with your smarts and your sassiness and your all-around awesomeness.

So, on my run this morning I decided to make a mental list of all the things I like about Abu Dhabi. I was pleased with the results:

• Watching Al Jazira football games in the VIP lounge with coaches and former players
• The week-long Abu Dhabi Film Festival, during which Adam and I saw both inspiring movies (for me Kings of Pastry, for Adam El Ambulante) and not-so-great ones (the very pretty but anti-climatic Alamar, the very one-sided Children of the Stones), but it was leagues better than the disappointing movie selection on our TV
• How most public bathroom stalls are like little rooms unto themselves with big thick doors so you actually have some privacy
• The shawarma place right around the corner from my apartment, where Adam and I can both eat dinner for about $5USD total
• Running on the Corniche alongside the Persian Gulf (and frequently being the fastest person down there)
• The religious, ethnic, cultural and racial diversity, e.g. in 5 minutes of walking around the Abu Dhabi Mall, you'll hear at least 3 different languages, if not more
• Feeling all scandalous when I walk out of the nearby spirits store with my thick black plastic bag full o' wine and Carlsberg
• There are more than 3 taxis in the entire city and it doesn't cost an arm and a leg to take 'em (unlike San Francisco)
• It's still bordering on uncomfortably hot and humid, but soon the weather will be absolutely beautiful for about 4 months, sunshiney & warm
• Camel spottings and camel milk and (soon) camel riding, oh my!

I'm sure I'll get over this little bump in the Abu Dhabi road. Overall, I am very grateful and excited for this experience. I think I'd just like to have a steady stream of my favorite people visiting over here (hint, hint). But Adam is the best P.I.C. a girl could ask for, and between exploring Abu Dhabi together and teaching me how to be a poker shark/CIV master, he's made this new and foreign land feel a lot more like home.

My Walk To Oman

Today marks 30 days in Abu Dhabi, which means my tourist visa would have officially expired had I not walked over to Oman, a neighboring Gulf country, yesterday. (Though I was politely informed that, in fact, I really have 40 days from point of entry--you get 10 free days because, uh, I have no idea why but you do, just don't expect anyone to tell you this before you plan your border run).

Adam and I set off in the morning to Al Ain, a city that lies approximately two hours east of Abu Dhabi. Our plan was to drive to the border, at which point I'd walk alone over to Oman (Adam has no passport while his residency visa is being processed, and the rental car had no Omani insurance, so walk by myself it was), get an entry and exit stamp, and then walk right back to Abu Dhabi. Easy peazy. Afterward we'd see the sites: the national museum, the Al Ain Oasis, the zoo, etc.

Sadly, we spent most of they day in our awesome economy rental car, listening to even awesomer radio stations (I think my favorite song was the one that looped "No you didn't. Yes we did. No you didn't. Yes we did." in swaggah style, over and over again). We drove toward one border port but turned around before reaching it because our Lonely Planet noted that the Mazid entry was exclusively for Gulf residents. We drove about 45 minutes to another border port, only to be told that there was no way I'd be able to walk to Oman because it was 47 kilometers away (as I huffed my way back to the car the thought did cross my mind, "If only I'd brought my running shoes..."). The friendly border dude was kind enough to give me this map and direct me, you guessed it, right back to the Mazid border port (f*&% you, Lonely Planet!):

It took us another 45 minutes to trespass the city and get back to Mazid. On the way we stopped at a gas station where I decided the only thing that would sooth my seething frustration was junk food (and since this had now become more of a road trip than a visit to Al Ain, junk food seemed necessary): chocolate-covered hazelnuts and Lipovitan Honey, aka Japanese Red Bull, for me, and a Power Horse for Adam:

I'll spare you the gory details of the actual border crossing, but let's just say it involved camel groaning, about 12 different interactions with people in 10 different offices, and one border guard slipping his phone number into my passport should I "need anything at all." I got back to the car where Adam had begun tearing little pieces of paper into the words "Wait here," because he'd started to worry and was going to come find me, but didn't have a pen to leave me a note.

In the end, the trip was totally saved by a visit to the Al Ain Palace Museum where the late Sheikh Zayed lived for a time with his third wife, Fatima, and their five children. We found out that Sheikh Zayed fathered 30 children--19 boys and 11 girls--by six or seven wives (I, for one, was thoroughly impressed). We roamed around the grounds, saw the master bedroom, and lounged for a bit in the swanky VIP sitting area. Then we grabbed some delicious grub and drove home with the full bellies I've come to expect from a Lebanese meal.

Highlights of the crazy border-crossing day include CAMEL SPOTTING (yes, I screeched like a little kid):

And this ridiculous beverage (nuts & cream on top, fruit and sugar on the bottom):

(Camel) Milk & Cookies

Things the Abu Dhabi Cooperative Society hypermarket doesn't have: half & half.

Things it does have: CAMEL MILK!

No job means I get to plan dinner and shop for the ingredients day-of, just one of the awesome perks of funemployment in Abu Dhabi. So there I was, strolling down the milk aisle on my daily a.m. trip to the market, searching high and low for some half & half when I stumbled across the camel milk section! I abandoned my search at that point and made a beeline for the checkout counter because I couldn't wait to get home and have one of my recently baked chocolate chip cookies with camel milk. I bought a small bottle of the date flavored version (ingredients:camel milk and date syrup), and it was subtly sweet and delicious.

I also love that the brand is Camelicious, and the camel on the bottle has a pink mohawk.

 

Safety is NO ACCIDENT!

A few signs posted near a building that's under construction in our new neighborhood. I will be avoiding this sidewalk for the duration of the construction.

Just in case you thought someone would take responsibility for that tile embedded in the hood of your car.

  

By the way, there were about a dozen men a foot or so away from this sign.

Not quite sure how to interpret this sign.

I'm pretty sure this guy is f*d at this point. Also, that is one gigantic bolt.

The Abu Dhabi Stone

Oh, the Abu Dhabi stone. Apparently, it plagues lots of expats here--the extra weight you put on when you relocate to this lovely little country. I think there's a chance Adam and I will fall prey to it too. That is, if we never figure out how much food to order when eating out here.

Seriously, I will stop solely criticizing the United States for being over-indulgent when it comes to food from now on. Abu Dhabi rivals--if not surpasses--our tendency to dole out super-sized portions at mealtime. I have to laugh at my telling Adam weeks ago, "Oh, yeah, I'm sure we'll both lose weight without changing anything in Abu Dhabi. We're bound to eat less--it'll just be too damn hot."

I wasn't the only one who had this hypothesis and then found it quickly disproved upon arrival. Check out TimeOut Abu Dhabi's recently relocated David Clark's article "Man versus belly," where he shares a similar disillusionment as far as staying svelte in Abu Dhabi is concerned. Turns out the Abu Dhabi stone (FYI: 1 stone = 14 pounds) is well known and embraced among expats. I don't blame 'em--we've had one delicious dining experience after another, but neither Adam nor I are huge eaters, and the huge meals are putting our bellies to the test.

So far, the Lebanese restaurants we've visited win the award for not only the biggest portions, but the most free food given along with your meal. Every one of them--Lebanese Flower, Al Riviera, and last night's Al Saj--have given us a plate of olives + spicy pickles (the main reason Adam has said to me, "I'll eat Lebanese food as frequently as you want") and a pile of vegetables (usually including mint, spinach, carrots, cucumber, radishes, and tomatoes) before we've even ordered anything. Then the size of the dishes is tremendous: a half pound of hummus, a dozen falafel balls, a mound of shawarma, six long-ass kebabs.

The first two times, we went home with stuffed stomachs and leftovers. Last night, we were like, "Alright, we got this. Let's get 1 order of hummus, 1 order of falafel, and 1 shawarma plate." That's 2 appetizers and 1 main dish. And we assumed by the prices: 15AED for the hummus, 30AED for the falafel, and 30AED for the shawarma, that the portions would be small. WRONG. We could barely get through 1/4 of all the food on the table. And I only ate as much as I did to help squelch the flames in my mouth caused by the 3 super spicy chile peppers I was determined to eat.

I'm not complaining about the gastronomic generosity, but I am very much looking forward to getting into our own place, making our own meals, and of course, BAKING!

Our meal at Al Riviera *before* our main courses arrived.

        

Our Father Zayed

Upon entering most public spaces (hotels, restaurants, malls, etc.), you'll see portraits of the founding sheikh of the UAE, Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan. In Adam's first HR orientation, he learned that Sheikh Zayed is hands down the most important man in Emirati history, and for good reason: according to Ask Ali's guide book to Abu Dhabi, "In Sheikh Zayed's lifetime, the country went from seven sparse tribal territories protected by the British to a wealthy independent nation with considerable influence in the Middle East." Under no circumstances are you to make fun of or berate him; in fact, you wouldn't even put your coffee cup on top of his photo if it were on the cover of the morning newspaper.

On the way to Marina Mall the other day, I noticed a huge billboard of Sheikh Zayed with a URL underneath (way to be on top of the internets, Abu Dhabi!): www.ourfatherzayed.ae. I noted it in my little travel book (thanks, Mea :) and checked it out this morning. Of course, the former Watershedder in me was immediately interested in the functionality of the site, but I was also struck by the content--people really do love and honor this man.

And considering our reason for being here--Adam teaching English--I loved this quote from the late Sheikh: "The best investment of our wealth is in creating cultured and educated citizens. We have to be swift and make our progress in education faster than our progress in any other field."

On your mark, get set, go!

I'd resisted the idea of writing an Abu Dhabi blog for some time. But in just one week of living here there have been so many entertaining, exciting, and--let's be honest--kinda annoying moments, and between the jet lag and sensory overload, I've come to realize that I need a place to store all these thoughts running through my head. (And I imagine it'll satisfy the sporadic request for updates, an added bonus.)

Today, Adam and I participated in a race for Unicef held in the exhibition center attached to our hotel. I saw the flyer for it the first day we arrived and exclaimed, "I want to do that!" (so much for my prior claim to run less in Abu Dhabi). The race was indoors, as the high temperature today and every day for the coming week is 106 degrees. As Adam affirmed yesterday while I contemplated aloud whether to enter the 10K or the 12-hour endurance run, I'm a masochist, but even I'm not crazy enough to run outside in that kind of heat (I'll wait 'til it gets down to the low 90s at least).

So we arrive around 8:45am for the 9am start, and my U.S. racing self is a little flustered and anxious about the disorganized registration process: Who do I hand my waiver to? Do you really want me to fill out 10 raffle tickets with my name and hotel number three minutes before the race starts? Speaking of which, where the heck is the starting line? But the most entertaining part was when the man behind the desk guffawed at the fact that I (a woman) was the one doing the 10K and Adam the 6K. "No, really? It's supposed to be reverse!" he tells us. Adam and I both immediately shake our heads. "No, no," Adam replied, "Trust me, she's the runner."

More than anything, the interaction amused me. It's impossible for my feminist self to not take note of how gender norms play out here. Earlier this week the sales clerk at the Abu Dhabi Mall asked Adam--as I stood right by his side--"Is she Arabic? She looks Egyptian," as if Adam may be angry if he were to address me directly.

I wasn't offended, just kinda surprised, as that's the first time anyone's deferred to my male partner and spoken about me in the third person like that. I'm not the kind of person to immediately begin critiquing cultural norms of a new country, even though we in the U.S. have a tendency to do so, especially with regards to women and gender in Middle Eastern cultures. Ironically, before I arrived I'd read advice from female expats living in Abu Dhabi suggesting I avoid being my normal level of friendly to the men here, as many of them are immigrants who are far away from their wives and may interpret my friendliness as flirtation. Yet so far the most uncomfortable I've felt around men was last night at a bar called Hemingway's in the Hilton hotel, which was filled to the brim with loud, unabashedly oggling white expat men.

Suffice to say, there's a lot to get used to here--as an American and a woman and a (mildly crazy) San Franciscan. I'm sure I will have plenty of "What the...?!" moments with men and women alike, but I'm not running away from my new home just yet.