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.