Dubai

Whoever said that Dubai was fake got it so wrong! After spending 4 days there over the long weekend (Thursday was the Prophet’s birthday by the way – not a long weekend because of Easter!) I realized Dubai is as fake or as fabulous as you make it!

We arrived at 3.30am on Thursday morning, and caught a taxi straight to Ryan’s flat. Ryan was in Mauritius (the life of a pilot – pretty damn amazing if you ask me), so he just left his keys at the desk down stairs, and we picked it up from a sleepy looking guy, who didn’t think twice as to whether we were really the people who were meant to be picking the key up.

Ryan had organized special flowers from Bangkok for us (in the living room, next to our bed etc), had bought magazines (girls ones for my side of the bed, boys ones for Luke), put hotel shampoos and creams in our bathroom, and stocked his fridge with lots of bacon. Still can’t get over how spoilt we were (and how my hosting skills leave a lot to be desired!)

We had a kip for a couple of hours (post a bacon sarmie – we just couldn’t resist, even at that awful hour!), and then headed for the most monumental shopping trip of my life! The Mall of the Emirates has some really cool shops (and restaurants and a ski slope!). After an entire day, 10 pairs of shoes, a new laptop, a new wardrobe for Luke and a hair straightener (I have finally succumbed) we made our way home to drop off the takings for the day…

Then we headed to Barasti and hooked up with Sammy-Jo and Ronnie for dinner. I can’t even begin to explain how excited I was to catch up with them – and proceeded to drink far too much and let out all my frustrations and have a good giggle!

The next day we went to a really cool restaurant called More for breaky, and then spent the day on the beach with them (Ronnie is an avid kite-surfer) – which was just so great! Honestly, it reminded me of Cape Town days. A whole bunch of boys made friends and played touch on the beach, and we swam – absolutely blissful and so far away from life in Cairo – it was good to get out!

We had a dinner at The Meat Company in a place called Madinat, which was fairly similar to Monte Casino. I even ate South African cow J Then we headed to 360 for a drink (absolutely awesome outdoor night club over the sea, with an incredible view of the Burje hotel).

The next day we had a late breaky at The Lime Tree (very similar to Melissa’s) and headed to the beach again. A spot more shopping in the evening, and dinner at Carters in Wafi City, then bed!

Our flight home was delayed from 3pm to 6.30pm to 8pm (have to love Egypt Air) so we only managed to get home at midnight last night (although it did mean we had some time for lunch and to pop into Marks + Spencer and a cool bookshop at Festival City).

What a great weekend! So good to get a slice of normality, and especially great to catch up with mates (Ryan came home on Saturday morning). Think a trip to Dubai may be on the cards at more regular intervals going forwards…

We also found out that Egypt is a kite surfing hot spot – so we now plan to head to Moon Beach on weekends to check out that scene (apparently it’s only 4 hours from Cairo)…

 

So watch this space – bring on the kite surfing!

 

Nesting

I am part of an international community! This revelation comes after my trip to Dubai, where I went to visit some mates and to compare notes on life (more on the trip later – suffice to say that I love Dubai!) I find that I have this unique perspective on life – that I have taken a step away from what was expected of me (by myself, my friends, my family) and am now looking at things from a completely new and different view point. If I am being a bit wishy-washy, it’s because I am nervous to admit that I am looking at nesting options (ie. one day where do I want to settle down) – and South Africa isn’t the only option any more.  The more I think about it, the more I think that for me it may not be the best option either. So, in an attempt to sort out my own mind, here is a list of my options:  

1. South Africa – I would truly love to nest in SA, but at this particular moment in time the country has got me a little rattled (crime is not something I want to have to get used to again)
2. England – good work opportunities, and family will always be around. But oh boy, that weather could make me suicidal!
3. Dubai – a very cool life, but not sure if it is family oriented. Maybe for a couple of years, but don’t think it could ever be home.
4. Australia – hey, why not? I have never been there, it sounds cool (beaches and sunshine) – and it seems to be a favourite place for SAfrican’s to emigrate to – can’t be that bad! But, no family around – for miles…

 Hmm, decisions decisions… I was complaining to Luke on the flight on the way home last night that I am so big and grown-up. But it’s actually quite fun to be able to look at life and have these options to choose from. How on earth can I complain?

 

Khan Khalili

I can’t believe it has taken me three months to get to this place! Wow – it is incredible!

Yesterday afternoon Paula, Meral (a turkish expat) and I decided to head to this market – famous for the sheer size of it, as well as the amount that tourists get ripped off in it!

So armed with Amr, our driver, and his friend (who knows the market well) we set out. The first thing I noticed was how colourful everything was – bright fabrics, sheesha pipes, statues – all overflowing out of a million stalls with a million people telling you to “Come and see this never before seen – one minute – just follow me” – and then being whisked away against your will to buy something you really don’t want!

But because we were armed with some locals, we managed to get away fairly unscathed (people that approached us quickly realised that we were not to be messed with – have I mentioned that my driver is my hero?).

Our first stop was at Abd El’s shop (Amr’s friend). We had to buy something from here, so we started some negotions, but realised they would never end, so we said we’d come back later.

I bought two long strings of pearls (real ones) for LE300 – which I thought wasn’t bad, but technically I could have gotten away with a lot less had I tried (very obvious that you haven’t bargained hard enough when the seller accepts your offer straight away!)

Then we found a shop that had all kinds of granite, onyx and other stoney things like vases, bowls, boxes and jars – really cool stuff! So we spent ages in there, and the man that was selling to us was just so great. He was old and dignified, and not pushy and incredibly patient (you can imagine how patient he had to be with 3 girls in his shop!) – but we bought lots so he was happy!

Our final stop was back at Abd El’s shop, where I did the most magnificent piece of bargaining (by the end of the afternoon we were having competitions to see who could get the most discount…). I wanted a sheesha pipe – and the price tag of the one I wanted was LE1650! After about 45 minutes I got away with paying LE330 – only to be told at dinner last night with Egyptians that I was horrendously ripped off! (A sheesha should only cost LE50 max!) Grrr!

On the way out there was this tiny kitten (honestly about 6 inches high) just sitting in the middle of the pathway – it was so cute, was so tempted to take it home with me! Someone saw me looking at it, and offered it to me for LE5! Pity Luke is allergic to cats, otherwise it is likely that kitty would have been rescued!

But Khan Khalili was a pleasant surprise for me – I was expecting dirty smelly roads, and lots of poverty – completely wrong! The whole area is pretty clean, and there are loads of sheesha cafes squeezed inbetween the stalls, and lots of people bustling around…

Can highly recommend it to anyone

 

An article that I hi-jacked from another blog – but it’s brilliant!

A KHAWAGA’ STALE: You know you’re a Cairene when…By Peter A. CarriganFirst Published: February 3, 2008

You know you are a Cairene because you read Khawaga’s Tale every Monday in Daily News Egypt.

You know you are a Cairene when you leave the airport and sign your name as Donald Duck in that book administered by a lonesome policeman, who records your vehicle registration and destination.

I mean really, what is that register of vehicles leaving Cairo Airport all about? There must be hundreds of those dusty journals back at police HQ dating back to Agatha Christie. I wonder if she was the first to write down Donald Duck or Mickey Mouse.

So, are you a Cairene? Following is the Khawaga’s Tale’s check list to whether or not you can consider yourself truly immersed in Cairene culture.

You know you are a Cairene when you don’t care for haggling with taxis and just take the airport limousine service. Your bawwab pays for your ride when you arrive home and your luggage is brimming with pork products.

You know you are a Cairene when your phone rings in the cinema. You have a friend in Maadi who you’ve been meaning to call and you’re unsure whether Palestine is a State or a state of mind.

You have a delivery menu from your neighbourhood fuul and ta’amiyya spot. You have sushi home delivered for dinner parties and your morning coffee is also delivered on weekends, when you answer the door in your pyjamas.

You know you are a Cairene when you have eight random phone numbers of black & white taxis saved in your phone. You don’t know who Ahmed, Mustafa or Jane is, but you also have their phone numbers. And you have left a phone in a taxi, restaurant or on a felucca.

You are always busy when invited to Maadi for lunch or a genteel afternoon tea. You have attended more leaving parties than you have friends and you’ve been to Aswan, Luxor, Siwa and Dahab, but prefer Moon Beach.

You know you are a Cairene when you say you support Al-Ahly after realizing the Club is based in Zamalek, but feel you should be supporting Zamalek because that is where you live.

You always nod with authority when asked if you have read Max Rodenbeck, Robert Fisk or Noel Barber. You have two or three Arabic language books on your bookshelf, but spend most of your time weighing up whether or not to have both Showtime and Orbit.

You make an effort to go to historic Cairo and Khan Al-Khalili when you have visitors, but send your visitors off to the Pyramids by themselves.

You know you’re a Cairene when you have kissed a diplomat, fallen in love, fallen pregnant because there is something in the water here and fallen out at After 8.

You have a wallet full of unused bar tickets from the Canadian Club, BCA, Rugby Club and the British Embassy’s Phoenix club.

Reading Al-Ahram Weekly makes your head hurt, though you have heard it is more entertaining in French.

You know you are a Cairene because you wear shades inside, you think it is rude to be on time and you’ve finally realized that IBM is not a computer brand. You’ve stopped flicking the wing mirror in after parking as you’ve also realized that you never use it and you need constant noise to get to sleep.

You pine for the African Cup of Nations. You can’t remember that sailor’s name from Alexandria’s Spitfire bar and you have finally realized that you could never leave your cat and couldn’t afford quarantine anyway.

You write a blog with a hip name like; whatzzupegypt.blogspot, for expatriates. You have started a cottage industry and gotten lost in the Mogamma.

You know you are a Cairene when you are wearing your blue jeans inside your knee high boots. You have one blow heater which you carry from room to room during January and you are wondering whether or not to join the exodus to Dubai.

Though, you realize you have been in Cairo too long because you remember your home country through rose tinted glasses; where politicians were honest, the streets clean and the service brilliant.

You have a thousand and one taxi stories. Your weekend starts on Wednesday night and you’ll never get used to going to work on Sundays. Your apartment has the ugliest chandelier in Cairo and your maid must have drunk that second bottle of gin!

And of course, you know you are a Cairene, because you never miss reading Khawaga’s Tale every Monday in Daily News Egypt.

 

Grrrrrrr!

Another long work week! Aaargh!

Not entirely in the mood to be honest, it just seems like an unbelievable mission right now – Thursday is sooo far away! My to do list never gets any shorter, and it is not very often that I get to cross things off… Most of my time is spent chasing people to do things that they said they would do – the problem here is that everyone just says yes, yes, and then nothing ever gets done – literally! A completely exhausting way to exist!

 A simple example – I was given the opportunity to publish an article in a magazine – great, free PR. But because I am in marketing and not PR, I had to hand it over to PR to write. So, because my English is better than anyone else’s here and I actually understand the product, I wrote the damn article and sent it to PR – so they could check it and send it out as their own (which they were very grateful for, by the way). I did this on 3 Feb.

I then followed up on 4, 6, 7, 10, 12, 14, 18, 19, 20 Feb (email trail, phone calls, and personal visits to PR debt, escalating etc), and on 21 Feb (our deadline was 20 Feb) I received a rewritten article that now included incorrect facts, bad english and spelling mistakes…

This is just so typical of Egyptians! They drive me completely crazy! I have at least 5 situations like this arising every day, which may have something to do with my lack of inspiration.

Another thing that drives me crazy, is that I have to get Legal to sign off my marketing material – fine, makes sense, fair enough – but what really grates my carrot is that they start to correct my spelling, and changing the words I use… What part of ENGLISH IS MY FIRST LANGUAGE do they not understand, and where do they get off changing my message in my ad. Their job is to make sure my ad is legally compliant, not to change “Win a trip for two to England” to “Win too FREE tickets to England” (spelling error included)… Aaaaaaarrrrggghhh!

 Just to give you an idea of the English I am dealing with here, check out this email (it takes me longer to try to work out what this guy is trying to say than it is worth). He also had a spelling mistake in his signature on his mail (maneger)… I eventually plucked up the courage to tell him, and he deleted his signature but didn’t even acknowledge my carefully worded email…

Good day all. Hope this find you well.With reference to the above mail subject I did went to maadi site yesterday with the company representative for the new auto mailer machine for testing the availability of packing the booklet with the statement automatically .The result end to that we can go it but still we have lots of damage copy from both statement and booklet.The site is not yet finished means it is under constructions and the environment is not good conditioned to production.End results we have to follow the manual process.Future results :They can provide us with the specks the suet the machine  for out packing if the site is get ready after constructions is completed. Regards  

 It stops being funny after a while…