Al Waha

Al Waha is the name of the new place where we are moving. Since we moved into our house, there has been a constant debate regarding the noise level. As I have mentioned before, we are living right under the flight path (literally) and it creates a lot of noise. Which is not very suitable for people who work odd hours and desperately need their sleep. So after some debating going on for a couple of months now, it has finally been decided that all families in our complex are to be moved out to another complex, far away from the flight path. We have tried our best to stay but last week we got an email from husband's company, with the number of our new villa, not leaving much of an option then to move. And we have to be out by end of this month. Which left us with less then two weeks to organise the move, cleaning of the new house etc etc. At the same time, husband and kids are leaving for Sweden, husband arriving in the beginning of July and leaving me to organise the move. I could have thought of more relaxing things to do while they are away, but what to do yani? So today the moving company are coming for an evaluation and I will be driving boxes to the new place tomorrow (when the car is back from the workshop) and the rest of the week. Things that I can put away in wardrobes and cupboards.

The new house is lovely though, a huge four bed room villa with a small yard in front and in the back for garden furniture and a BBQ. I will miss this place and its location, the vicinity to the small centre. Where we are moving now, there are no shops or anything yet, but a small community center is build and hopefully there will be a gym a coffee shop.

Now back to the boxes!!

Another fine week...

This week started of quite ok, Sunday passed without any major ups and downs and then came Monday. As I was driving to work, listening to Dubai 92 on the radio, life seemed quite good, the music was good, the weather was good (37 degrees at 8 in the morning...) and just as I was about to turn right in to our parking lot, I was suddenly hit by a small Nissan Tiida (those cars are a curse to us, three weeks ago husband managed to bump into one of those small toy cars). The Tiida was trying to overtake me on the inside, as I was making a (forbidden) right turn from the left lane, bad bad choice and he was in my blind spot (should have looke more carefully, I know but my head was preoccupied with details like, have to send 35 dhs for field trip, check out new school in case we have to move, pay for nursery, reschedule ticket home etc etc, so I was not paying enough attention (bad, bad). And off went my bumper and off went the entire back side of his little toy car. Same procedure as last month, calling the police, the red slip (I was unfortunately the guilty one and another fine and this time they even took my licence). Fine to be paid after three days and then I would get my licence back (how generous...). Our car is just a material thing and it can easily be fixed and there were no injuries but still that was enough, I burst into tears while our office driver (who was my moral support and strenght during this little episode) tried to comfort me the best he could.
Our driver parked the car for me (as I was not in the state of driving...) and I marched up to my office, all in tears. After a cup of tea and some comforting words from colleagues, I perked up again. As I said, it is NOT about the stupid car, it was just one of those things that totally messed up my day, the last thing I needed.

I am so homesick I could pack my bag today and just leave. I miss Swedish food, the smell of newly cut grass, the sound of birds, the sound of silence, the smell of forest, sitting by the lake side late night, enjoying the bright summer nights, ICA's hotdogs, my mothers home cooked food, fresh stawberries, the smell of flowers, green grass, blue sky, brigh colours, fresh air. I miss all that!!!

Last week, we celebrated the Swedish National Day at the Norwegian Seaman's church. We sang the national hymn (I was in tears) and then we had coffee and cake. After that, we sang "Idas sommarvisa" (I was in tears again...) and finally "Den blomstertid nu kommer" (tears, tears...). It was so beautiful. It's funny how important these things become as soon as you move abroad. I have never been a fan of traditions, couldn't even bother to do the Christmas decorations until we moved to Singapore, when all of a sudden, Christmas tree, Christmas candy, little Santa Clauses' became very important and Christmas could simply not be celebrated without those life changing items.

Next week, husband and kids are leaving for Wonderful Sweden, and I will remain in the desert for another five weeks.

47 degrees and sunshine...

The summer is here, in Dubai. As a true Swede, I never thought I would hide away from the heat and the sunshine, but I am. Yesterday, I managed not to even set my foot outside the doorstep and today, we went for a quick "Groceries Weekly" and back. But no playdates outside, not even a swim in the backyard pool. It is too hot. It is 47 degrees. The air is boiling, the ground is boiling, I am boiling. Even the kids refuse to go outdoors, or they will come back after a few minutes, all red in their little faces, moaning and sweating. And this is only the beginning of a Long and Hot Summer. The temperature usually hits 50 up to 55 and the growing amount of high rise buildings are also one reason why the temperature is getting higher and higher every year. The tall buildings capture the heat and turn the entire city into a melting pot. The car is like a baking oven, one actually needs gloves to even be able to touch the steering wheel without getting severly burned.

I feel genuinly bad for the poor road workers or construction workers, who spend most of their days in this heat, with only a hat or a small cloth to cover their heads. At least I have the luxury to spend my day in an air conditioned office.

Since the kids wouldn't go outside, we spent the day painting little model cars, something both kids enjoyed, even so much that they had to start painting not only the little cars, but also themselves...

Kabul

I have just returned after a three day long business trip to Kabul, Afghanistan! Being the weird person I am, I have always dreamed of going there, so needless to say, I was more than excited!

After two and a half hours, I landed in a cold and rainy Kabul. The streets are muddy and dirty and the small, brick shaped houses lack any sort of colour. When it is raining, the streets turn into mud and when it is dry, the air is filled with dust, which makes you cough constantly. Despite the fact that there are armed men in every corner, either the Afghan army, the Afghan police or the ISAF, the streets are busy with people trying to get on with their daily life. Girls with head scarfs (no burqas though) on their way to school, laughing and giggling and with books in their hands, boys fooling around and doing all sorts of tricks that boys always do. Some women in their blue burqas with little children on their arms, traffic jams that make Dubai look like the most civilized city ever... On one narrow street, the left and the right lane went in one direction, whereas the middle lane went in the opposite... UN land cruisers, ISAF tanks, old Russian and Pakistani cars side by side, crowded buses, colourful Pakistani trucks, taxis...

I had to be careful when taking up my camera, since it drew attention to us. Only the fact that you are a foreigner, even if I was wearing a headscarf, is sometimes enough and I was not allowed to walk the streets on my own. On my last day, I was escorted by an Afghan life guard and one of my colleagues, around a small shopping center. We managed to have a fantastic lunch at a local restaurant. The food is very similar to the one in Uzbekistan and after ten years, I finally had a huge portion of plov, rice with meat, raisins and carrots, my favourite dish in Tashkent. It was fantastic! I managed to purchase an Afghan rug, how can you leave Afghanistan without one of those? We also did a small tour to the TV Hill, which gives you a great view over Kabul.

My flight back, with East Air (a Tajik airline) we were not served any kind of food or drinks, but they did have some kind of lottery going on where you place your boardingcard in a small plastic egg and have the chance to win 135 dollars. No announcement before landing either and all of a sudden we had reached Dubai ground. During the inflight, most passengers were busy with either taking photos with their mobile cameras or sending text messages...

To pay a fine

Two weeks ago, I received my first Police fine (and probably not the last...) I had stopped for two seconds to put on my head set when I suddenly discovered the police just behind me. I didnt really pay any attention to what he was doing but after a few metres (when I was done fiddling with my head set) of following me so closely that I thought he was working his way through the trunk, he pulled me over and I was fined. For stopping along the road, bear in mind that this is the country where you can reverse on the highway and it is perfectly legal, but you can not stop for five minutes on the side of a small service road. Reversing on the highway is a lot more dangerous but who cares about logic? Well, he gave me a fine, written in Arabic only and I told him that I will not sign anything that I dont understand (I mean, for all I care, he could have written anything, mad Korean tried to stab me with an ice hatch, or something like that) but he just looked at me and said in broken English: What do I look like?? And I wanted to answer: A fool, but that would probably had cost me my license...You dont insult the law enforcement here (or anywhere for that matter, I guess). So I finally accepted my fine of 200 dhs only to find out that the payment instructions on the backside was in English! How fascinating, the fine itself in Arabic but the payment instructions in English.. so where is the logic? (there is no logic at all)
Today, after two weeks, I went to the Bur Dubai Police Department to pay my fine. Luckily, there is a ladies only line, where I patiently waited along with a few other expat women and one local woman in hejab. The opposite line was for men, taxi drivers, truck drivers and local men in their dish dash (though they dont stand in line, they only proceed to the counter...) A local woman in her abaya told all the men by their first name in a high pitch voice: Ahmed, go and pay your fine and come back! It was actually hilarious to watch. I waited for one hour before it was my turn to hand over my license (was a bit scared I would never see it again) and my fine, paid 210 dhs (10 dhs for administrative fee, as in him stretching out his arm to receive the cash I guess) but I made a promise to myself not to argue, only God knows what that might lead to. So, I walked away fine- free and with a new experience, some black points and a police record to add to my life in Dubai. Fantastic!

I am officially 35...

It was my birthday yesterday, April 7 and I was celebrated at work with chocolate cake and strawberry cake, my lovely colleagues sang Happy Birthday to me and I felt very very happy.
At home, another strawberry cake and flowers awaited me. We had a lovely dinner, my son was very eager to give me the birthday gift, a wonderful necklace from my family.
Since my dear friend A was visiting me only for the day, we went out after dinner for some girl talk over a few drinks, before she headed to the airport and I went home.
Older, yes, but also happier.
The photo is taken by Thomas Isaksson, at his birthday party last week!

My big girl

My little girl turned two last week. We celebrated with chocolate cake and a few presents with the family and last Saturday, we had a small party with good friends. I cant believe that she is already two, it feels like yesterday we brought her home from the hospital, this 3,570 g baby, so sweet and so quiet. She is still sweet, but not very quiet. A stubborn young lady with a strong will of her own.

Well here she is, dressed in a skirt from grandmother in Sweden and a T-shirt from Pumpkin Patch, on her way to nursery. My big girl.