A look into my life as I make a major life transition to the Middle East. The challenges I will undoubtedly face, the victories to come, and the memories to be made, all strung together in the hopes to make up my hollywood ending...
Sunday, May 22, 2011
So many contradictions here. It is preferable to be covered up at the shoulders and at the knees that I understand, but then you go out to these hotels and all bets are off. And I mean really off. I must say we went to a pool party this weekend that would rival any Vegas rehab (for those who do not know, those are out of control pool parties in Vegas, Spring Break for Adults to the extreme). And Vegas does not have the back drop that Dubai so beautifully has on display. It by all means was a fabulously fun afternoon and I got to meet all sorts of people from literally all over the world. I have yet to master the guess my accent game, which really miffed a Frenchman off, but I should have realized when he was so put off that I had not a clue where his intoxicated mumbles originated from that he was indeed French.
We finished the warm weekend off on the total other side of the spectrum at Bu Qtair, a local fish hut. And when I say hut what I really mean is trailer, because that is exactly what it is. With plastic tables and stools all put together on the sandy front yard. As E said, "they have a pretty low overhead here." And that they do. We walked into the trailer and up to the window where we found our selection of fish for the day. It was already rolled in spices and ready to be pan seared. And it was just like eating lobster, we got to pick out the exact fish we wanted to be fried up. They throw it on a metal tray and away it went for preparation. We headed back out to the front terrace, and when I say terrace I mean the dirt yard in front of the trailer, and we scanned the area for an open table. It looked like it was going to be a pretty decent
As you can see the humidity is doing a
number on my hair!!
wait as happy dinners munched on fish, but that out of the corner of my eye there was a very small Sri Lankan man (do I know he was Sri Lankan? absolutely not but lets go with it!) with a white picnic table on his head and he was headed toward us. He plopped the table town for us, threw down some green plastic stools, wiped it down, and we were ready for our fine dining. We nibbled on some bread with curry sauce and about ten minutes later a man had his head poking out the side of the trailer window yelling Eric's name. We motioned and dinner was served. Armed with tissues and an orange soda for refreshment we dug into the fish and prawns, and I mean literally as we ate with our hands. No forks here thank you very much. The prawns were delicious all though I had to eat massive amounts of bread with them as my Iowan taste buds have flexed their spicy muscles a bit in Arizona, but it has not even begun to conquer any of these curries that this side of the world has to offer. The fish was subtle not as spicy but amazingly fresh and flaky. It really was some great food, and it was the perfect location, with the best company. And there went my horizons expanding again.