The plight of animals...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love animals more than anything. Which makes it all the more strange that I should end up in a country where there is not exactly an abundance of them. Even domestic animals are quite rare, so when I heard about the Dubai Animal Rescue Centre (DARC), I knew I had to go and take a look.

Not surprisingly, I encountered vast amounts of exotic animals (and a few domestic ones) all of whom were former “pets” that had become unwanted. [“Oh mommy, please please please can I have a Andean Alpaca Pleeeeeeeeze? They are SOOOO cute. Daddy can just pay to bring it into the country. I really really want one......".]

Fast forward a few months, and "Valentino", the cold-climate version of a Llama, is now much larger than when she arrived and has a nasty habit of spitting saliva on anyone and anything that comes near her. Can’t send her back home. Now what?

Enter DARC and the incredible woman who has turned her own home into a shelter for these animals who literally have nowhere else to go.

All the animals here have similar stories, and there are none that are indigenous to the Middle East. Meerkats (for crying in a bucket of python poop, what are they doing here????), Capybaras (South America), Iguanas (Indonesia), peacocks (India), Prairie Dogs (USA), Ferrets (wherever, I haven’t got a clue), a pair of owls, species unknown (who keeps an owl? How do you even catch an owl???), tortoises (you have to watch your step everywhere you walk), terrapins, an African Grey Parrot, some antelope, loads of rabbits (long-eared and other varieties), the above-mentioned Alpacas, nine dogs and eight cats.

It’s literally a zoo, in a house, in the middle of the suburbs: small, but immaculate, and each enclosure is lovingly kept in the best condition possible - aircon included. No animal is ever turned away, and the owner does whatever she can, funding it mostly out of her own pocket.

She has a couple of very dedicated volunteers who come in every day - even if it’s just to play with the domestic animals. I spent ages with the cats who behaved more like dogs, just wanting to be petted and loved and picked up and scritched and scratched and were all over me like the rash I would have got if I were allergic to them. Thankfully, I am not.

Sigh. Every now and then my faith in humanity is revived. But I feel compelled to do something to help. Obviously being in television I can create some kind of awareness, (and it’s mostly going to be about attempting to get it into the heads of imbesilic individuals who think that having a wild animal as a pet is acceptable), but on a personal level I would really like to do something. Ideally, DARC needs its own bigger, better property and a regular income that covers expenses for enclosures and food for the animals. Am going to have to be creative about this.... hmmmmmm.....

Something else to keep me awake at night. Not like I have insomnia or anything.

Lead me not into temptation......

Virtually impossible in Dubai, where every street leads to a mall of fabulosity. It’s the holy grail of retail therapy. The centre of the shopping universe. I want everything.....

For the first time in my life I lust after Paris Hilton’s life with her unlimited credit cards. It’s not fair!!! I also wanna!!

The designer stuff is the worst. Having only been exposed to limited ranges of Haute Couture at Nelson Mandela Square, this is a whole new world. God, it’s beautiful. You can smell the difference, never mind see it. It’s causing serious tension in my little unaccustomed head:

Bad me: Oh My God, that’s the most beautiful bag I have ever seen in my life.

Good me: Oh my God, look at the price. Don’t be ridiculous. Put. It. Down.

Bad me: But it will go with everything... last for years, and never go out of fashion.

Good me: It costs 4500 Dirhams. Leave Bloomingdales at once!

Bad me: But, it’s not just a bag. It’s a Jimmy Choo. Everyone will think I’m so sophisticated...

Good me: Out! Out! Leave! Which direction is the exit?

Bad me: ... not to mention a fashionista at the cutting edge of international trends.

Good me: OUT OUT OUT!!!

It’s exhausting.

I would like to assure everyone, however, that despite all the temptation, I have rarely succumbed (says she peering over the rims of her Versace shades). At least I’m not as bad as my friend Kate. We went shopping for gifts on Saturday because we’re both going home to SA for a visit next week. We [bargain] shopped for hours and she went home with six handbags, a good few designer scarves, and a brand new Subaru. Yes, the car. The 4x4 one. She wasn’t even planning it.

'Cos, that’s how we roll here in the Middle East.

Blogging again...

Dubai always feels like I’m in the middle of a Lego set or one of those mock-up model-cities that architects make.... modern high-rise buildings, the odd tree, a lone, miniature statue of a human strategically placed to look like they are enjoying a cup of coffee at a cafe, just to give it that “realistic” feel. OK it has been summer, and anyone with even a vague sense of self-preservation has spent the last two months ensuring that they are never more than 5 meters from air-con. But, you never see people walking around and the shops and restaurants along the street look closed and abandoned, with empty tables and unopened umbrellas on their terraces. They are there, of course. Millions of ‘em. But all are inside, praying that the valet parking guy has switched on the air-con in the car before they deliver it back.

Heat like this is just not right. And it’s not normal for humans to be living here. Take the Arabian Gulf for example. A couple of weeks ago I had the most inexplicable urge to go to the beach in the afternoon, when the sun was at its zenith, and beaming down 45 degree rays. Foolishly, I thought that a nice dip in the beautiful ocean would be just the remedy. Until I got in. Welcome to the warmest ocean in the world, where you sweat IN the water. ‘Cos that’s almost 40 degrees too. No-one can understand this until you have experienced it. The sea is hotter than bath water, no exaggeration.

And speaking of hot water, that’s pretty much all there is. The cold water plumbing pipes are always outside a building, so no matter how much you beg and plead with the Gods of Cold Water to bless you with a cool shower, it never happens. No-one here bothers to even put their geysers on.

By the way, I deserve an award: I officially survived a day when the mercury touched 54 degrees celsius.

I know it’s been a while since I last blogged, but in case anyone hasn’t noticed, I have moved to Dubai. I still work in Abu Dhabi, but I now stay in the older part of the Retail Therapy Capital of the World. Yes, shopping in Dubai is everything it’s hyped up to be, and more. But more about that at another time.

It’s been a strange few months. I’ve not only moved continents, but homes three times, and offices once. I’ve fallen in and out of love. I’ve made new friends. I’ve developed an addiction to edimame beans. I’ve swum with sharks in the Indian Ocean side of the UAE. I’ve been to the top of the tallest building in the world (for 1-minute until I had to leave because I couldn’t breathe). I’ve watched the sun set over Jumeira Beach from the Sky Bar at the Hilton. I’ve got a standing weekly appointment for my manicure, pedicure, and facials. I’m still too scared to drive, but have a regular, Pakistani taxi driver who is outside in the street waiting to give me a lift every morning, and calls to check on my schedule. I’ve gotten so used to the 4am call-to-prayers that it’s become comforting. I’ve felt stifled. I’ve felt liberated. I’ve wept with longing for my dogs, my family and my friends back home. I’ve felt an incredible sense of belonging amongst my colleauges, most of whom are so talented, warm and just amazing.

Yip, folks. It’s been a ride. And the journey is just beginning.

Hot. Hot. Soccer!

The heat is becoming intolerable. It’s 6pm and 49 degrees celsius. And the worst is yet to come... when night falls it brings with it levels of humidity that have to be experienced to be comprehended. Stepping out of the safety of fully-air-conditioned buildings means literally walking into a wall of heat. Ever had a hairdryer blow into your face at full speed on the this-is-definitely-going-to-damage-your-hair setting? Well, that’s the feeling. Only you can’t switch it off, and it’s a full-body affair.

But onto other matters that are equally as hot... the World Cup. SO wish I was back home to be in the midst of what seems to be an amazing, vuvuzela-infused, spirit-overloaded event! Soccer fever has hit the UAE in a big way too. Most nights are spent on our regular spot on the couch at the “Y-Bar” in one of the hotels here. It gets packed with all sorts of nationalities depending on the game. I am absolutely loving meeting people from all over the world. At one of the games the following nationalities were sitting on the afore-mentioned couch: Lebanon, America (my wonderful boyfriend, who is affectionately nicknamed “Baltimore” by everyone), little ol’ South African me, my Canadian friend Ivanna, our Icelandic friend Joey (who knew that people and not only volcanoes came from that country?), our German friend Mattheus, the mad Brit Marky Marc, a Bulgarian and a Polish girl. Certainly makes for interesting conversation, let me tell you. Soccer, truly is a universal unifyer. I never paid much attention to it - but have become quite engrossed despite South Africa’s... umm... performance. (Don’t worry Bafana Bafana - all will be forgiven if you just beat the French tomorrow!).

On another note, new recruits in the company are all having weight issues. And it's not from bad eating. It's either the heat that slows down your metabolism, or we're all retaining water in weird places.

Minus three degrees celsius has never felt so good.

That’s the temperature of the indoor ski slope in Dubai. Went there on Friday with my American. Loads and loads of fun! I spent the day in “Introduction to Skiing” and “Skiing Level 1” classes. Decided I could actually do this. I can maybe.. perhaps... actually ski! (Ok, so I didn’t really master the stopping part, but they have conveniently placed mattresses against all the walls for just that purpose!) I am a convert and can finally put “The Snowboarding Nightmare of 1997” to rest.

This is truly a place of extreme contrasts. Minus 3 degrees inside. 47 degrees out. I loved being in the cold of the Snow Resort... felt invigorated and alive (as opposed to the wilted, sweaty, sticky, hope-my-deodorant-is-working and how-does-anyone-survive-in-this-place feeling you get when you stick an appendage outside.) It’s crazy, crazy hot. I don’t think I will ever get used to it.

On another note, life has become pretty routine, even if you are constantly aware that this is another planet. I’ve made some friends on this strange little island that I live on. The picture attached is of the gang: From left to right are Joe the American, Me, Ivanna from Toronto, Canada (sorry, Tarronnno, Keyenada), and Marc the mad Brit. We generally hang out at one of the hotel pools after work, or go for dinner or whatever. It’s nice to have your phone ring with a mate on the other end of the line.

Work is getting busier. Have my first official function tomorrow - an event hosted by the Abu Dhabi Marine Corporation and the Swiss Embassy - a presentation on “The Perils of Plastic Bags”. Should be fun.

In a nutcase, I’m learning more than I ever thought possible, am having an absolute blast on the social front. On the downside, I’m still going nuts without my dogs and get very very teary whenever I see another dog, or talk about them. Got busted by an Arab whilst talking (out loud) to a sick and dying pigeon on the balcony yesterday. Forgot it was one-way glass. And yes, it was very uncomfortable.

Him: “You talking to the bird?”

Me: “ummmmm yes” [Hasty exit and note to self: “Do not talk to animals in public. Do not talk to animals in public. In fact, just do not talk to animals anymore”]

Don’t even want to think about what he must have said to people.

Am also getting really upset that I am not in SA for the World Cup. I audio-stream Highveld Stereo all day long, and the excitement seems to be reaching fever-pitch back home. Have booked a spot for the gang at work to watch the game on Friday, so will be sharing the gees from over here. Am armed and ready with my Bafana T-Shirt and my flag. And I know I am going to howl my eyes out when they play the National Anthem.

I'm still laughing....

A colleague of mine has been staying in the same hotel since he arrived in the UAE. He's a South African Indian and at breakfast this morning, the following conversation took place:

Waiter: Excuse me Sir, are you Sri Lankan?

Colleague: Ummm no. And of all the places in the world, why Sri Lanka?

Waiter: Well, Sir, you look like you could come from Sri Lanka and you eat poached eggs.

There you have it.

Random Ramblings

The absentee blogger is back! Sorry folks, but I have been on a BBC-presented “Appreciating HD” course for the last few days. Have gotten home exhausted every night, to say the least.

So I thought I ramble about some random things:

1. Lebanese Lentil & Lemon Soup is THE BUSINESS! Have it for lunch almost every day. We get it delivered from the local Lebanese take-away, rather strangely named “Automatic”.

2. Actually, the food here, in general, is amazing. Am trying very hard not to pick up weight. There is in fact a syndrome round here called “The Middle-Eastern Stone” which refers to the, erm, spare-tyre that most ex-pats develop around their stomachs during their first two months of living here. It’s seafood buffet night again tonight… someone please tell me how I am supposed to resist unlimited sushi, the endless row of enormous prawns just waiting for me to add garlic sauce, the poached salmon, crayfish tails…..??? It’s just not possible.

3. You drink a lot of water here. Like a lot.

4. The heat is ridiculous.

5. Companies here spend a load of money on corporate stationery.

6. I have decided to live in a hotel for the next two months. Finding a place to stay is almost impossible. Am working pretty hard, so not a whole lot of time to go searching. Not to mention the ridiculous price of rentals in Abu Dhabi. Wish Dubai was a little closer – there are fab apartments there for a fraction of the price. Most people live there for that very reason, and travel here every day. But travelling over 250kms a day doesn’t exactly float my boat.

7. I miss my dogs more than I can describe – especially on weekends.

8. I miss my friends. Have made friends with two guys who also live in the hotel. One is an Aviation Engineer (from Britain) and the other builds rollercoasters (American from Baltimore). They’re both nuts, which is fun.

9. Have plans to go skiing next weekend in Dubai with them. Yup – you heard right. Skiing in Dubai. And Yes, I am talking about snow skiing. Real snow. OK it’s a ski slope in a mall, but with real snow. Check it out: http://www.skidubai.com/