Taxis phones curriculum

I've been in Abu Dhabi for one week today and have learned there are no addresses, sometimes it is too hot to walk, people have an infinite capacity for being bat shit crazy and I hate not knowing where I am. ironically, I have always pretended to enjoy my lack of direction and have regaled people with romantic tales of wandering the streets of Florence and discovering a group of glass blowers who called me "Bella" invited me to share their lunch and sent me off with my own glass winged horse. Now, thirty years plus on I am not that charming beauty but a flustered woman in a taxi insisting I don't want to be driven around the block again but allowed to get out.

Take the laundry. I decided the hotels prices were very steep and so I asked to be directed towards an alternative. I followed the directions  I was given and after wandering down a number of side streets I stood in front of the Mohammed Islamic laundry with my bag of grubby knickers and things. I decided to go to the much less impressive competitor and handed my bag to a man who told me nothing but Saturday and took my clothes away. I am hoping to visit them tomorrow and possible have them returned. 

The phone is horrible. It's small and gives no explanation for possessing a number of buttons that illustrate a phone. I have successfully answered it and far less successfully called someone. It has an insipid and stupid ringtone I can't change. I push buttons wildly and hope for the best.

Curriculum. I arrived and was told I was the acting curriculum manager. I attended a meeting with serious jet lag and tried to look attentive and enthusiastic. I now have an assignment which I don't understand anymore than I understand how to use the phone.

Then there is Mubarak. He comes he goes he keeps trying to get me to meet one of his real estate contacts and I say no. I say no to nearly everything Mubarak suggests is a good idea for me. Other women say yes but I have no intention of thinking my welfare is safe in the hands of a person native to a country where  violence  against women is condoned and my behavior is controlled by a series of laws created long before the cruxifiction.


  1. And that is how it goes in the sandbox...most days you feel barely able to cope.


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