Headline of this Eid day, Expert Advice: Eat less food

Eid Mubarak my dear readers.  May the day be full of festive fun and joy. Or, if you're in a non-Muslim country it will probably pass you by, but there we are.

In case you're wondering what we're up to, the Sand Warlock is at work (no time off in the twilight world of the airport) and I will be at home chewing my nails, scratching my head and working half-heartedly until he gets home.

Then we're off to dinner at the dwelling of an ex-pat with an assortment of Dutch, Egyptian, English and Scottish people.  That sounds like a joke, doesn't it?

In the mean-time, I just had to share some expert advice and a possible winner of headline of the month from the ever marvellous Gulf News.

That advice is: eat less food

What a truly groundbreaking and though provoking piece of advice, and published on a day associated with feasting after a period of fasting and abstinence throughout the Muslim world.  Until this day, it had genuinely not occurred to me that if I ate fewer pies, I would be healthier. Gulf News, I salute you for your foresight. 

Say it in Broken English

I heard a funny story about the misinterpretation of the words of an innocent English hack. This innocent hack was writing about a high up person in a global jewellery brand attending a fancy-schmancy Dubai event sponsored by his company.

She used that classic British language device of understatement by stating that said high up chap "knows a thing or two about jewels, gems and bling" or something similar.

Unfortunately, this was misinterpreted.  The reason this was misinterpreted is that many of the PRs that we indirectly deal with are Lebanese who speak Arabic, French and then English as their third language. The reason many of them are Lebanese is that they are often working with Swiss and French companies so being in the Middle East and speaking French and Arabic is extremely handy for this purpose.

Malheureusement, the PR people, reading as they were in their third language, took this to mean that what was being implied was that high up person knew just one or two things, that he knew little, and took great offence and demanded a retraction, etc.

No amount of persuading on innocent hack's part convinced them otherwise, so, presumably, in the next issue of the magazine, a clarification along the following lines will be published:

XXXX magazine previously stated that Mr X knows a thing or two about gems, jewels and bling.  We wish to clarify that Mr X knows a great deal about jewels, gems and bling and any implication that Mr X knows just one or two things about this matter was unintentional and we wish to apologise for any offence caused.

Innocent hack told me a similarly entertaining story about a time she covered a horse beauty competition in Saudi Arabia and she used the phrase "fairest of them all" for a headline.  Unfortunately, the King of Saudi Arabia, who sponsored the competition, took umbridge at this saying the magazine was accusing participants of cheating and threatened to pull the plug on cooperation.  Several 10 page missives later explaining the story of Snow White, the dwarves, the wicked queen and the magic mirror, he was placated.

Ah, the perils of international publishing. 

Up on the roof

Being the dedicated housewifey that I am, I drop the old man off at work at the airport each morning. OK, that's a lie. I work at home and I know if I didn't have to get up to take him to work, I probably wouldn't get up until 2pm and would therefore accomplish nothing.

Each day I like to watch the tiny little men running around on top of Dubai Airport's Terminal 4 which is currently under construction. Well, I have to entertain myself somehow. The Sand Warlock is many things but a morning person is not one of them, therefore the conversation tends to be somewhat monosyllabic.

As an aside, I know the men are regular-sized really. I'm not like Father Dougal in that scene from Father Ted in which Ted has to explain to the younger priest the difference between "small" and "far away". 

You can just about see the poor beggars running about up there already, by 7.30am.

They remind me of that compulsive computer game Lemmings as they do look very tiny, as high up and far away as they are from Marrakech Street where this pic was taken.

They seem to wonder about quite freely, unencumbered by such boring, tedious things as harnesses or climbing ropes to prevent them hurtling to their deaths.  You can't really tell from this picture but the shell of the terminal, which I have been told will be for A380 or double decker passenger jets only, is made of glass and this morning I watched one of Dubai's several billion cranes swinging about merrily in the wind as materials were lifted on to the roof perilously close to it. 

Really, living in a society relatively unfettered by that silly old Health and Safety nonsense doesn't half make the morning commute diverting.  Such fun, as Miranda Hart's onscreen mother would say.

The terrace where taste dies

I'm a young(ish) fogey and I listen to Radio 4 including programmes such as Gardener's Question Time.  Let's just get out the way so you can smirk at my tragic life and then read on.

I was reminded of Bob Flowerdew's recent controversial comment that hanging baskets are "the place where taste dies" by this divine item spotted at Ace, the Dubai equivalent of Homebase:

 That's right, people, it's a free standing water feature modeled on Dubai's seven-star hotel the Burj Al Arab.

It's clearly for the discerning buyer for whom a keyring or ornament is not enough. They want to tack up their garden while simultaneously causing all who come near to want a pee with the permanent sound of running water.

At least you now all know what to buy us for Christmas. 

Eat a big supper at a luxury hotel? If(tar) you insist

Ramadan, I've been reading in the local newspapers, is a great time during which people spend more time with their families and sit down to evening meals together at the end of a hard day's fasting rather than ordering a takeaway and collapsing in front of the 3m flatscreen.

That may be the case for Muslims, anyway, particularly those who have the good fortune to be living with or near their families.

For us non-Muslim ex-pats, it's a bit different. I'm not going to moan about it, partly because Ramadan is really no hardship for me, and partly because a British woman recently got taken to court for insulting Ramadan on Facebook. But the differences are marked: Obviously we tend not to fast but you have to be a bit careful about making sure you don't eat in public in case someone sees you and is offended. Things tend to be closed and raucous Western-style partying is not as well tolerated, so quite a few people in search of entertainment, us included, give the old Ramadan suppers a go at the local hotels. They're basically the same as brunches, but with a bit more focus on Arabic cuisine and no booze.

We tried the one down our local.  It was rather sweet with delicious food. We were sitting near a man who had clearly been observing the fast as he barely paused for breath between mouthfuls. 

I then got a bit keen on the idea of the Ramadan tents I keep reading about and having purchased a Time Out Dubai we spotted Al Majlis at Mina Al Salaam Hotel, Madinat, which promised an authentic Arabic Iftar experience and a luxurious Ramadan tent.

"That sounds fun," I thought, picturing myself, Sand Warlock and a recently arrived fellow ex-pat who we knew in Blighty, sitting cross-legged on cushions sampling authentic Gulf region delights in between puffs on a Shisha. So we put on our trousers and skirts with the elasticated waists and off we jolly well went.

It turns out that the Mina Al Salaam's idea of a tent is a little different from your average marquee or indeed Millett's camping shop Eurohike job as it looked a little bit, well, in fact, exactly like this:

There were blokes in fezes rambling round lighting and keeping shishas going and sumptuously-attired waitresses looking elegant and not minding in the least when I barged into one of them spilling her glasses of juice because I had fallen into a diabetic coma just from passing by the pudding table.

It was a very enjoyable experience as the food was delicious.  I took care to sample as many Arabic-style things as I could which seemed to largely consist of huge quantities of grilled or roasted meat, including whole lambs roasted surrounded by rice, which I believe is known as Lamb Ouzi, and various couscous or chickpea-related dishes.  Generally speaking, I have found the Emiratis I have met so far to be somewhat acerbic and deadpan (which does make me wonder if I have some Emirati heritage somewhere along the line) so seeing them tuck into large buffet dinners with something that resembles enthusiasm was diverting.

The experience also differs from brunch in that it's in the evening and they play a recording of the call to prayer before everyone chows down.  There were plenty of Gulf Arabs there which suggests that it is at least close to something resembling authentic, however, I'm still in search of a real Emirati Iftar.

Next stop, the snappily named Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding which I am told serves Emirati dishes at Iftar in a wind tower.

Milky milky

It turns out that getting people to agree to be interviewed is a lot harder in the UAE than it is in the UK, particularly when said people are effectively employed by one Sheikh Mohammed. 

Hence this relatively simple story about the viability of camel milk in the UAE took weeks of wrangling. Another lesson learned.  

I predict a riot, except I didn't and neither did anyone else

I've spent the day, when I really should have been concentrating on my glossy magazine stuff, compiling stuff on what British ex-pats think about the riots for the ever brilliant Khaleej Times.

The premise of my story is that I, as a person living abroad, worries that the England I will go back to visit and eventually for good will be a changed place with new, tougher criminal justice laws intended to crack down on people who think the police shooting of a man is a good reason to go out and nick a microwave.

I felt the same during the News of the World malarkey because the actions of a few will probably eventually mean that privacy laws are tightened to prevent it happening again meaning the job will be harder for mid- ranking hacks like me.

Things I have discovered today are:

1. I am still really, really crap at vox pops. 

2. British ex-pat men are pretty happy to say what they think in a newspaper but British ex-pat women, less so, particularly if you ask them to have their picture in the paper.

3. I am the only over-opinionated prima donna that I know in Dubai apart from possibly one of my bosses.  That must be why we got on so well.

4. I am somewhat rusty at this news reporting lark.  Just ask a certain editor who was greeted with roughly 17million words of copy to sort out half an hour past deadeline

5. Trying to do news reporting to a first edition deadline while simultaneously trying to do a different assignment which involves arguing with people in PR about why they can't just send us one image instead of 1GB of info that we have to dig image out of and crashes our computer is not a good plan. Still, I signed up to this freelancing thing so I shouldn't complain.

6. Not many people share my opinion that Britain will change thanks to the riots.  Must remember to check people think what I think they think before I start writing a story.

I am genuinely appreciative of everyone who's put up with me ruthlessly mining you for information and pics today, particularly when I'm the only one getting paid for it (it's not very much if that makes you feel any better) and when some of you have been directly affected by having your communities torn up by these little plonkers.

I couldn't include everything that was sent to me, some of it because there just wasn't room and some of it because it might have looked like we were taking the mick. 

One of the ommissions was this comedy gold nugget that one of the Sand Warlock's colleagues sent to me in response to being asked if he knew anyone directly affected by the riots. I thought it should reach a wider audience even though it didn't make it into the hallowed pages of the KT.

"I once shopped with Carpetright, and although not in the Tottenham branch, it’s still sad they’ve been targeted. I can’t think why they’d be victimised; I bought a really lush rug at a competitive price and experienced nothing but fine customer service throughout – I can only imagine wrong place at the wrong time?"

I think that says it all.