Like a Native

Today... today was very interesting. I had a call from a Medical office that I sent my resume to. Dr. P asked me in for an informal interview at 4pm today. So, as I had no other plans, I agree to meet with her. John didn't look like he had any intention of going anywhere so I was heading off with out him. I stood at the elevator and I heard John call my name. He changed his mind, he wanted to get out with me instead. So we scurried off to a villa in the Umm Seqeim district. She said 'it's a white villa with a blue wall' a VERY blue wall. We stepped in about 15minutes early and Dr P was anxious to get started. She escorted me into a private office and then she laid it on me. Unfortunately, this city has a low cost labor market adn with all the competition, my expertise is of no consequence. It doesn't matter that I am fully trained and certified... or that I have actually knowledge of anatomy and physiology... no what matters is that I do no have two year experience, nor will I get those two years because in order to get a job you must have those two years... plus you can not work in the private sector until you have worked in the public sector and even so, the UAE government my not recognise my qualification as a 'medical massage therapist' and they may only allow me to work in a spa, if I can get my education attested by my schools and of course my government. And even if I meet all those requirements... I will only make 1000 - 2000 Dirhams a month... translating to $272 - $555 US PER MONTH! And that is IF I work full time six days a week 9am to 6pm. Now, I love massage. But seriously, I'm not that desparate for money. She was really nice and it was extremely helpful to have her share with me all the regulations and save me the time of running around trying to figure out what to do. She also shared that since I am American, I would have a hard time getting interviews simply becasue no one wants to pay US wages. She wanted to give me a chance because she was once in my shoes and wished someone would have told her. So after my meeting with her, John and I walked a bit of road and talked it over. It feels as if I've wasted time and money learning this new trade and now I can't use it here.. and as much as I love it, it isn't worth the run around nor the money to try and work in the field here, where massage is still only recognised as a spa treatment rather then theraputic treatment. It's hard to give up, but I didn't come this far for my career, I came to support John's advancement. So... I will try real estate, and if it is a door that I am supposed to walk through, then so be it. I have a list of companies that I am going to try to get on with and hopefully, there will be opportunity for me to learn the Dubai market. If it is not meant to be, then perhaps I will go to college. I have to do something productive with my time. I can clean all day long, I can run out of jewelry supplies and I can only cook so much... before I have to get out and see people and interact with others. It doesn't mean that I'm settled on anything. I'm keeping my options open at this point.

Since John did go with me, I felt free to explore a bit. We hailed a cab and had him take us to the Textile Souq down at Bur Dubai near the museum. It's an old fashioned souq with materials that dazzle the eye. So fancy, so elegant.. so everyday! The Indian women wear these beautiful saris just out and about all these colors with embroidered patterns. But fashion textiles are not the only thing they sell, they have traditional dress, table cloths, pillow cases, pashminas of every kind and the prices are fantastic.. plus they love to haggle... something I learned to do from my dad, and I have no problem saying no. Then just as you walk away they run and give you a better price. I can handle that. I saw the most intersting clothes for kids to, full on 3 pc suits for little boys and little saris and fancy dresses for girls, in one shop I got 5 shirts for about 25US, all hand stitched and embroidered in really nice colors. Then we stopped at another shop, where table clothes and arabian shoes and lots of traditional dress was sold... and we had an interesting experience there.. but in the end I bought some pillow cases for the couch. Red and gold, bright and shiny! Cheap, cheap, cheap.

Then since we were already on that side of town John finally took me to Beruit. A restaurant he raved about while he was till staying at the hotel. We walked in and the whole staff welcomed us, they shook hands with John as if they were old friends. the serive was fantastic.. our waiter was from a country I've never even heard of...but he was great. The food.. Tasty! I can't explain how I've managed to live this long with out ever eating a shwarma... or lamb or hummus for that matter. The middle eastern bread is fantastic and even just by itself is has more flavor then I could ever understand. I had mixed grill kabobs and John had lamb and chicken shwarma... it came with salad. But not just any salad...you get this bowl and it has whole tomatoes, whole peppers (capsicum), whole cucumbers, carrots spears, fresh mint, and spinach and fo course romaine.. then you select what you want and make your salad right there at teh table, you can also add some if the veggies to your shwarma if the mood hits you. They are also very big on fresh fruit smoothies here. so with dinner I had a mango pinapple smoothie and John had a 'fruit cocktail' which is kiwi, guava, mango, and strawberry all in layers... it looked so colorful. They don't add anything either, it's fresh and 100% natural. I don't think twice about eating out anywhere anymore.. I just eat. It's going to be a new experience every time, and I have to keep my mind open to try new food. I haven't really swayed from what I know, cuisine wise, and so I find this my challenge... to try it all, and if I don't like it... I don't have to eat it. It's that simple! Italian has always been at the base of my culinary background, and I've tried a few Food Network recipes, yet, I have always been affraid of trying thing I have never tasted... Not anymore!

After dinner, we went down to Al Ghurair City, it's the local shopping mall in the Deira district. John shopped here while he stayed at the hotel. It's got all the basics and then some, plus right across the street is a large Spinney's which, had a Body Shop in it! Very surprising to find a grocery store with my favorite supplier of body products (isn't that wierd Autumn?) We walked around Ghurair City a few times and we went through several stores comparing prices and checking out the uspcaled textile shops. That's what is so different here. As you walk the malls you pass these shops that have loads an load of gorgeous materials... and inside you will see a group of ladies in their abayas (local dress, birkas) sitting down in little clusters while a man shows them all kinds of materials. They select what they like then they have it sent to make dresses... Beautiful evening dresses.. which are more like everyday dresses to them... yet you never see these dresses becasue they are always covered in their abayas. Unless of course they are at home among family, where they don't where the national dress. You see all types and levels of traditional dress too. Some are completely covered while others will only drape the top of their head or not drape it at all. Yet there are others that don't where the abaya, but they are covered from every inch head to toe, long sleeves and all. I have heard that they are not required to wear it at all, but a lot of them choose to where it. I don't blame them. Some of these abayas are absolutely gorgeous and when I stand next to a woman in full dress, I feel shabby and under dressed. Tonight as we walked around, I thought about how much easier it must be for them to be among lots of men (because the population is 80% men) and not feel like they are being watched. It gives them a freedom of sorts to walk around without being self concious. They wear what they like underneath and I think that make them feel beautiful, and the veil is like a protection from being judged for what is under it. Maybe I am wrong, and one day I will have a conversation with a woman who will trust that I am not asking to offend but rather to learn.

From there we had a terrible time catching a taxi and we wlked around a lot trying to hail one down. Finally, we had a taxi stop and by then we were worn out. But once we got home, and nice cuppa hot chocolate was calling John's name from Mokarabia, the coffe shop down stairs. So we went in for a night cap. I tried a new flover of ice cream called casata. It had dates and rasins in it and I thought it may not be good, but it was so unique and tasty, I'd have it again for sure. So that was my day. Tomorrow I go to Mercato for Expat Women's Coffee. I will meet with the same ladies form last week and we can exchange some more stories and of course I can get all kinds of info and tid bits on what to do and where to go. It will be soo much easier when we have a car, but it may be a while until our jeep comes home with us. The red tape here, well let's just say it's more like red DUCT tape! Anyhow, I'm off to bed. Tired feet and tired hands... I really shouldn't blog so much, but I just can't help it!