This is Why Dubai

As a family that relocates every couple of years, we are used to and even welcome change.  But two weeks ago, we were blindsided with a change that turned our world upside down - a most unwanted change that I never could have imagined would be forced upon us.  My four year old daughter was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, an autoimmune disorder where the ingestion of gluten leads to damage in the small intestine.  Fortunately, the disease is treatable by adhering to a gluten-free diet.  Unfortunately, the gluten-free diet is a DIET. FOR. LIFE.  No cheating allowed.  One tiny gluten or wheat particle is enough to keep the disease active within the body and the resulting antibodies damaging the intestines.  

So what the hell is gluten anyway?  It is wheat, barley, bran, rye, and spelt, to name a few.  Sounds easy to figure out, but there are so many overlooked sources of gluten in things like beer, oats (processed 9/10 times in a wheat plant) any kind of breading, soy sauce, broth, salad dressing, candy, and the list goes on.  With there being so many health freaks and diet fads in today’s world, finding substitutes for gluten is not as difficult as I imagined, albeit really damn expensive.  Like three times more expensive than the gluten version.  I can buy GF pasta, bread, cookies, crackers, cake, bread crumbs and many other things at our local grocery store, which likely wouldn’t have been the case 10 years ago.  Some of the substitutes taste great, some taste awful, it’s simply a (wallet-emptying) trial and error process.  While the rest of us can still eat gluten, we were advised and agreed to be completely GF as a family at home and any time we are eating out with Ella.

Changing our home into a GF household hasn’t been so difficult, but it’s the eating out that has thrown us for a real loop.  While there is probably at least one thing on every menu which is namely GF, it’s nearly impossible to trust that it hasn’t been “cross-contaminated” on a burner/grill where gluten was cooked, or in oil where something breaded was fried - or perhaps it was marinated in a sauce with gluten or maybe there’s a sauce on it that contains wheat thickeners or maybe it was sweetened with barley malt!  It seems the only safe way for a Celiac to eat is to go to a restaurant that specifically offers options on their menu marked GF!  We’ve hunted down some of these places in Dubai, and what really sucks is that most GF restaurants or menu options are OVERLY healthy and weird because they seem to be catering more to health-conscious people rather than those forced to live gluten free.  Seriously, can someone just please figure out how to make GF fried chicken fingers with cream gravy and no, I don’t want to eat a cheeseburger wrapped in lettuce---how hard can it be to figure out a good GF burger bun?!?    

Ella is only four years old and when we explained to her that she can’t eat bread, gluten, tortillas, etc. for the rest of her life, she matter-of-factly accepted it without crying, complaining, or any questioning.  But does a four year old truly comprehend what forever means?  Ella has taken this like much more of an adult than Ken and I, who have had various sobbing break downs when we contemplate the social impact of this disease on her life.  Birthday parties, eating over at friends’ houses, pizza parties, beer in college, social gatherings, business lunches and dinners......all of these things should be a source of happiness in Ella’s life, but will likely instead be a source of stress.  

We got the initial call from the doctor on a Sunday night and were told to see a specialist the next morning for a firm diagnosis.  With heavy hearts, we went out that night and tried our best to enjoy what we knew would be the last normal night for a long time - at least until gluten free becomes our new normal.  We of course got ice cream, and Ella devoured her giant waffle cone with that ear-to-ear grin only an ice cream cone can effect.  It took every ounce of effort in my body to mirror her smile, knowing in my heart that it would be the last one she would ever enjoy.  Feeling a lump growing in my throat and my eyes starting to sting, I quickly pulled out my phone as a diversion and captured this set of pictures I call, “the last ice cream cone.”

Last week we were on our way to the kids’ playroom in our apartment complex when the girls suddenly took a detour and sprinted to the outdoor playground before I could say no.  Turns out, their little bodies sensed it was cooler and were ready for some good ol’ outdoor fun again!  Based on my untrusty weather app, it wasn’t actually cooler (still 97 degrees at 6:30pm) but it was drier than usual which made it feel as though a desert autumn was on its way (haha.)

The momentary drop in humidity was a fluke and we’re back to playing indoors, but I’m glad we got the chance to remember how much fun can be had outside!

The first weekend in September was a four-day weekend for those in the Dubai work world and a three-day weekend for those in the USA.  Before you get excited over how much the Emiratis and Americans have in common, you should know that these national holidays actually have nothing in common.  While the Americans are celebrating “Labor Day,” a day to commemorate the social and economic achievements of the American worker, Emiratis and other Muslims around the world are celebrating “Eid Al Adha,” or Festival of the Sacrifice, to celebrate the sacrifice that Abraham was willing to make in killing his own son.

Maybe you’re now thinking, hey wait, (Christian) Americans and Muslims share a common ground in their religious beliefs?!  Actually, there are a few slight yet crucial differences to point out.  First, while Christians also believe that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his son, we believe he intended to slay Isaac, born of his wife Sarah.  Muslims on the other hand believe that Abraham intended for Ishmael, his son born of Hagaar, Sarah’s mistress, to be the sacrifice.  This difference in beliefs makes complete sense considering Jesus is a descendant of Isaac while the Muslims’ prophet, Mohammed, and his descendants trace back to Ishmael.

A more important difference is that Muslims believe sacrifice, then and now, was not to atone for one’s sins, but rather to prove one’s commitment or faith to God (Allah.)  Christians believe that sacrifice was required to atone for a man’s sins prior to Jesus’ death.  We also believe that Jesus was sacrificed as the atonement for all mankind’s sins, and therefore sacrifice is no longer required of us by God.  We must only believe and accept that Jesus died for our sins to have eternal life.

Muslims celebrate Eid Al Adha by sacrificing a lamb or goat and sharing it amongst family, friends, and the poor.  They also give gifts and hold big celebrations.  We’re not really big into mutton....  So how did the Bollhardt family celebrate the long weekend?  With the girls’ first bowling night (please note the scores...), the most terrifying flying rainbow car ride, sunsets, ice cream, fireworks on the beach, splash pads, and why not more sunsets, ice cream, and fireworks on the beach!

Ella managed to get the first 4-way split known to man (above)

View from our balcony (above)

The construction of the largest ferris wheel in the world is almost complete!

When I found out that moving to Dubai was a very real possibility, one of the first things I researched was whether freedom of religion, specifically Christian religions, existed here.  I quickly learned that citizens of the UAE are Muslims and are forbidden to convert to any other religion, however all other individuals are given religious freedom.  They can own land and buildings of worship, gather for worship, etc.  However, (public) evangelism and blatant attempts to convert Muslims is a crime.  Ok, got it, no handing out Bibles in public, I can live with that.  But freedom of religion itself does not ensure that Christianity is thriving in Dubai.  I took my research a step further to find out whether people really ARE gathering to worship God in Dubai.  

I found the United Christian Church of Dubai.  It is pretty much the only well-established protestant church in Dubai.  After reading their website and finding that their beliefs are in line with mine, I was also encouraged to discover that they were established enough to have toddler play-groups, an extensive youth program, and several Bible studies to fit the needs of its members.  I prayed that this would be a wonderful new church home for us because, well, it was kind of our only option!

Shortly after arrival in Dubai, I started with the toddler play group which was a perfect way to meet other moms.  I very quickly made friends with whom we started meeting outside of church at the zoo, playgrounds, family pool parties, etc.  I also attend the women’s Bible Study where it is nice to continually see these friends, but also learn from other women in the church who are so much wiser than me and have been willing to mentor me in very open and honest ways since the first day I started attending.  Church (which is held on Friday here as the weekends fall on Friday/Saturday) is pretty standard when it comes to protestant churches, however the sermon is quite long making the whole service almost an hour and 45 minutes.  That’s about 45 minutes longer than many of us want to sit in church, but here the pastors are well-educated, engaging, and interesting!  It’s been such a long time since I have found a church that really challenges me mentally and spiritually.  Not to mention, my girls both go to their individual “Friday School” classes which gives me the ability to stay focused while attending the service.  And both girls are learning about Jesus - Biblical lessons that are taught in a way that toddlers can grasp the concepts.

I decided to write about this topic because the last week was one that shook my emotions and left me clinging desperately to my faith.  To start, I was awoken on Tuesday with a call from my mother to inform me that a long-time family friend, Jerry Harrington, had died.  He was younger than my own father and while people in that age range are naturally starting to die, it doesn’t feel as though that truth makes the reality any easier to stomach.  It’s especially difficult to be so far away from family and friends at a time like this, and not to be able to attend the funeral.  

On Friday, we headed to church and I was hoping to find some comfort for the soul as I was still feeling down.  Turns out what I found was just the opposite.  The pastor started by stating that the church had endured great loss this past week.  I thought to myself, “how ironic, I have also endured a great loss.”  He went on to say that one of the families, who are members of the church, lost their two sons in a swimming accident that happened at a fellowship gathering of many other church goers.  The sons were 14 and 16 years old - they were not noticed at the bottom of the deep end of the pool before it was too late - and as both were good swimmers, no one suspected anything was wrong, and no one knows exactly what happened.  All of the other moms and kids at the pool witnessed the accident.  The news of this broke not only my heart but also a dam inside me and I had to rush to the bathroom until I could stop crying.

Part of what got to me is that the parents and sisters of these lost boys were actually sitting in church that day - exactly three days after their sons had died and before they’d even been buried.  I can’t imagine losing a child, definitely not two children, but then to have the strength to sit in church with the same people who had invited me to the pool in the first place!  I was truly amazed and inspired by their faith and their ability to maintain trust in a God who sometimes lets horrific things happen when nothing and no one on earth can provide an explanation.  It was during this service that my assurance in this church was reaffirmed.  That there was such a powerful support system in place to comfort and strengthen this family through such a difficult time let me know that I had found the right church and that we belong here.

When people die, we are almost always left wondering why.  Often I think we will never know why until we also die and can see the big picture from God’s point of view.  But sometimes God gives us little clues which remind us that every single detail of His master plan is perfect and meaningful.  One of these details was the timing of the call from my mom to tell me about Dr. Harrington’s death.  I’d run into a fellow Texan friend from church the previous week who forwarded me an email about attending a weekly Tuesday gathering of church moms and kids at the pool.  I’d planned to take the girls, but after the call from my mom, I was bummed out, my mind was distracted, and I forgot about the pool outing until it was too late.  Just so happens that this was the same pool gathering where the two boys drowned.   I spoke to my friend who was there with her two children.  She said it is one of the most awful incidents she’s ever experienced in her life.  God works in mysterious ways, and while I obviously don’t think that the timing of Dr. Harrington’s death was planned solely for my benefit, the delivery of the news of his death actually spared me and my young, impressionable children from witnessing first-hand the drowning tragedy. 

I dare never to say that my faith is shaken by even these types of horrible events.  But I’d be lying to say that I don’t look up to Heaven and ask “why God, why?” when I can’t make sense of the world.  And I’d be lying to say that I have ever been given an answer.  No one other than our omniscient God could understand why a parent should have to bury their children or why a child has to die before he’s even graduated from high school.  This week left my soul feeling heavy and burdened with these types of unanswered questions.

And then there was the beach last night.  One of our favorite things to do on the weekends is hit the beach at sunset and enjoy the unbelievably warm ocean while the sun sinks slowly into the horizon.  There’s something about the salty water, the ebb and flow of the tides, and the painted sky which make me feel a stronger connection to God.  I love floating on my back with my ears underwater, muting out the world around me.  It is so peacefully quiet.  But the best part is that the tossing of the sand and shells underwater makes a crystally tingling sort of noise, as though there were tiny wind chimes under water playing the most beautiful music to my ears.  As I floated alone in the ocean last night, I couldn’t help but wonder if the boys who died also heard that sort of silence underwater before they lost consciousness.  It was a sad thought and so I blew out all my air and let myself sink under water down to the sand.  As I pushed myself back up to the surface, I felt something under my foot.  There are tons of seashells and coral on the beaches of Dubai and my kids and I love hunting for the biggest and the best.  Naturally, I always use my feet to pick up the ones I feel out in the water because the ocean usually hides the best shells from the other beach goers.  Most times it turns out to be a boring rock, but this time, you can imagine my surprise when my monkey toes pulled up a flat round dark brown shell about the size of my palm.  I nearly tossed it aside before my eyes recognized the unmistakable sign of a sand dollar!  

You may or may not know that the sand dollar has been adopted as Christian symbol because of 1) the center star - representing the star of Bethlehem; 2) the flower around the star - representing the Easter lily; 3) the five holes - 4 around edges representing piercings through Jesus’s hands and feet, and the center hole representing the piercing from the spear in His side; 4) the flower on the underside - representing the Christmas poinsettia; and 5) the five “doves” found inside the sand dollar - representing the doves of Peace.  I personally love sand dollars and even own one dipped in silver that I often wear on a chain around my neck as a symbol of my spirituality.  I’d been disappointed that with the wide selection of seashells still existing on the beaches here, we’d never found a sand dollar.  But today, of all days, was the day I found one.  It was as though God sent me a tangible reminder of the gift that is Jesus dying for us on the cross.  I stared at it in amazement as I had never seen a brown sand dollar.  Then something strange happened.....the thing started prickling and sucking on my hand!  I felt embarrassed at my own private realization that sand dollars are not just a sea shell, they are a living creature at some point!  I’d never seen a live sand dollar in my life!  And then I knew what God was really saying to me.  Jesus not only died, but He lives again!  And we who accept that will also live again.  

As I waved Ken and the girls over to witness this little miracle, I felt more, and more, and more in the sand under my feet.  We pulled up what seemed like hundreds!  It was as though each sand dollar represented a soul, lost to those of us here on earth, but alive again in Christ, on their peaceful way to spend eternity with our gracious God.  I wanted so badly to take one home (I’d been waiting for the day to add a sand dollar to my collection of seashells!)  But instead, I laid each one carefully back down on the ocean floor, pondering this special moment in my heart and allowing this enlightenment to engulf my spirit.

Dubai is in many ways the “melting pot” of the East.  People come from all over the world to take advantage of the multitude of job opportunities and income that is not taxed by the Emirati government.  For every high-compensation job that exists in Dubai, I would guess there are ten low-compensation jobs.  And by low, I mean next-to-nothing.  These positions include construction workers and all other forms of manual laborers, drivers, maids, nannies, and any other job that doesn’t require some kind of higher education or training.  Therein constitutes the upper and lower classes of Dubai.  (There’s also the uber-wealthy class which comprises the citizens of the UAE.)

Construction workers are probably the most miserable lower-class group of people I have ever witnessed in my life.  From what I understand, they labor at least 10 hours a day even in the blazing heat with one day of rest per week, if that.  They are brought here from other countries and provided housing and transportation to work (a sweaty non-A/C bus) and paid barely enough to cover their cost of food.  Their housing often consists of circus-like tents set up right on the desert sand with bunk beds lined inside.  They obviously don’t have their families here with them as only men are allowed in these living quarters.  Upon arrival to Dubai, their passports are taken away from them during the duration of their contracts so that they can’t up and leave.  So why do they come to Dubai?  I really don’t know but it leads me to believe that life in their home country must have been an actual living hell.

Let’s talk about maids, nannies, and drivers.  Because they are so cheap, most everyone I know has a maid and most families with kids have nannies.  Some have maids and nannies.  Some people I know even have drivers to escort the maids and nannies around town to grocery shop or take the kids to school.  Others have drivers for themselves because they don’t enjoy the chaotic driving in Dubai--that, and there’s the benefit of always stepping into a cool car rather than one that’s been baking in a hot parking lot.  Note: the picture below was a real framed poster on sale at an art store in one of the local malls.

As I’m not working in Dubai, I prefer to take care of my own children.  However, I despise cleaning.  Therefore, we have a maid, Grace, who comes once a week and cleans for four hours at a cost of $27.22 or $6.80/hour.  Wow you might say--that’s below the minimum wage of $7.00 in the USA!  But wait... this isn’t even the amount that Grace gets paid.  No, that money goes to Mops & Brooms, the company for whom she works.  Mops & Brooms brought Grace over from the Philippines on a three-year contract to work 8+hours/day, six days a week, for 1,200 AED per month.  That’s $326.71/month or $1.70/hour.  They pay for her cell phone and her housing.  She lives in a bedroom of a villa with six other women who sleep side-by-side in bunk beds.  While they get to access the kitchen and bathroom, there is no living room for them to use.  She HATES it.  

Grace just turned 29 and she has three kids (the oldest is 13) who are living back in the Philippines with her parents.  She told me she came to Dubai because she is making 3-fold what she would earn for the same work in the Philippines.  However, with the sky-high prices of everything (except cheap labor) in Dubai, she is struggling to find money to send home.  She misses her children and is not happy with life here in Dubai, but she is stuck in a 3-year contract she can’t get out of.  Grace also babysits.  She loves my girls and we try to contract directly with her so that she earns ALL of the money.  One night of babysitting earns Grace what she would normally make in a week.  We once returned home to find Grace and Adalyn snuggling on the couch asleep.  I though of how much she must miss cuddling her own babies.

As I mentioned, most families here have nannies to take care of their kids.  Middle Eastern people, in particular, seem to take the back seat (of an oversized van) when it comes to parenting.  Their children have very active lives because the nannies are out and about all day long entertaining their every need.  When the parents actually do involve themselves with the children, it is RARELY without the nanny along (at dinner, shopping, the beach) to do the dirty work (clean up the kids, take them to the bathroom, rock crying children, etc.) and ensure the parents are not inconvenienced.  I find this cultural practice unfortunate for many reasons into which I won’t delve.  However, one unfortunate consequence is that I seldom meet nor make friends with other moms when I’m out with my kids.

From time to time, I chat with the nannies I encounter at the playgrounds.  One nanny, also from the Philippines, struck up a conversation with me and our discussion turned towards her personal situation.  She told me that she works from 8am to 8pm six days per week for the family taking care of the two children (2 and 5 yrs old,) cleaning, and cooking.  When I asked what the mother does, she replied, “sleeps, and orders me around.”  She told me she gets paid 2,400 AED per month which equates to $653.42/month or $2.02/hour.  This is a little better than Grace, but this lady has to pay for her own housing.  I asked her if she enjoyed being a nanny, she replied, “I’m just so tired after working 12 hours a day, and I get home so late and then have to make myself dinner and then go to bed just to get up and return to work.”  My jaw dropped.  I clarified, “are you telling me that you cook for these people and they don’t let you eat dinner with them?”  She said that her salary does not include ANY food, that they only occasionally give her a bottle of water or a cup of coffee from the pot.  No breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  

I tried not to let it show on the outside that my heart was breaking on the inside.  It was as if I was a kid again and someone had just pulled the mask off Mickey Mouse at Disney World.  The place I was convinced is the most friendly land on earth was suddenly flooded with sadness and cruelty.  I felt sad not just for this one woman, but for ALL the women, all of the Grace’s and nannies out there who've been led to this land of opportunity only to be enslaved by a life of hardship and discontent.  I feel sad that people are valued and treated differently because of their backgrounds, origins, and upbringings.  I find myself asking God whether we were really all created equally or whether He intended there to be such disparity between the lives of people around the world.  

When grandparents come to town, the laughter and smiles abound. They make silly faces and love to embrace us when grandparents come to town.

When grandparents come to the beach, no seashell is out of reach. Splishin’ and splashin’ in new swimsuit fashion when grandparents come to the beach.

When grandparents come to stay, we get dolled up every day, and stay out late, it feels so great when grandparents come to stay.

When grandparents finally arrive they always let us drive. They read aloud and they feel so proud when grandparents finally arrive.

When it’s time for grandparents to fly home, We dread being left alone. We choke back our tears and wait for the years When grandparents are able to drive home.

When I travel to foreign countries, I like to get a taste of their culture and traditions.  It’s fun to try and do the things that the locals do or did at least during some point in their history.  In Dubai, you can embark on a desert safari which entails a very odd combination of activities, all of which have somehow come to embody the culture of Dubai.

First off is a thrilling-for-some, terrifying-for-others, sickening-for-people-like-me drive through the desert sand dunes which has been given the lovely title, Dune Bashing.  We opted out of this considering we had two toddlers, a grandma, and a car-sick-prone mommy on board.  Obviously, the driver was not interested in our request to drive smoothly nor our screams in the back seat as he drove like a madman with his foot to the floor of the Land Cruiser which felt as though it would roll over at every turn.  I counted at least three times my head bumped the car ceiling....and that was with a seat belt tightly fastened.  We thankfully survived without any injuries or vomiting.  **Note dune bashing is actually frowned upon by environmentalists as it ruins the natural habitat and the dunes themselves.  Dubaiians obviously appreciate a thrill more than they do nature.

We were the first group to arrive at the camp, so we stammered up some of the dunes to take pics before photo bombers could ruin our perfect backdrop.  On our way up one of the dunes we spotted lizard tracks and hunted him out of his hiding spot (see video below.)  I’ve never seen a lizard like that before and it was cool that we really discovered it on our own.  We also got another literally five-minute ride on a couple of camels which gave way to more photo ops, except that the camel guy cut off the head of our camel...in.every.picture.  

Inside the camp, there was a falcon handler who let me hold the falcon on my arm and then on my shoulder.  Another fascinating experience to be so close to and even stroke the feathers of such a magnificent bird, one that could actually slit my throat with its massive claws at any moment, yet was as gentle as a lamb while I held him.

We also got henna tattoos on our hands (see pic below) which is fun for the first day, maybe even two.  But a week later when I was using a barilla pad to try and scrub that tea stain off the back of my hand, it reinforced my decision to never ever get a tattoo.

Dinner at the desert camp was nothing to write home about, simply a long buffet line of food that seemed more Indian than anything.  But the entertainment was pretty unique.  First was a man dancing in a series of dresses which eventually lit up.  I say dancing, but I mean non-stop spinning for at least ten minutes.  When I turn around more than twice, I hit the floor.  I don’t know how this guy didn’t eat sand when he stopped, or much less how he walked off the stage in a straight line!  It was definitely jaw dropping.  The second act was a fire twirler.  This guy danced with fire to that freaky devil song and literally looked like he might be Lucifer himself.  Even Ella sensed it and told me that she didn’t like that man because he was “eating the fire!”  Last was a belly dancer whom I loved, because she had hilarious expressions as though she didn’t really take herself seriously....although she probably should have because she could bounce those tatas to the beat of any drum!  

After dinner and the show, the desert safari officially ended.  I was hoping for a few more visible stars in the sky, but perhaps you have to trek further into the desert for some real camping before the stars make an appearance.  Thankfully our ride home was a straight shot through the dunes with no funny business from our driver.  

I don’t know how much of the desert safari experience represented real culture and traditions, or whether it has been manufactured simply for tourism.  But in any case, it is a part of what Dubai is now known for, and I had fun trying it out.

When the temperatures in Dubai start to creep up during the days, people start to creep out during the nights.  This line has actually come out of my mouth:  “Let’s wait until dark to head out, because it will drop to 95 degrees by then.”  It’s a completely preposterous but truthful statement which prompted me to search out the night-time activities that Dubai has to offer.

Those of you who know me well are aware of my absolute fascination with lights, specifically Christmas lights.  I live for that special time of year when I get to surround myself with millions of twinkling lights at those pop-up holiday light displays (this might be a Texas-only thing considering Ken told me they don’t exist in New Jersey.)  Before I even had the chance to fret over all that I’ll be missing out on during the Christmas season while living in this Muslim nation, the alternative to my holiday lights landed in my lap - the Dubai Garden Glow!

Dubai Garden Glow is a huge park with an endless display of lights in the form of animals, nature, architecture, and fantasy.  The lights are not actual strands of Christmas lights, but rather bulbs behind some kind of paper material which gives way to the most vibrant glowing colors.  I don’t think a pair of eyes exists that wouldn’t delight in the splendor of this sensational park.  

This place is open year round and I really can’t say anything negative about it....well, except for that sneaky ice cream lady who handed Ella a cone before informing me it was 30 dirhams.  Yes people, that’s $8.12 for a single scoop of ice cream.  “Hey... Wait... What?  Umm... Okaaaayyyy.  What just happened?”  (My exact response before making Ella promise me that it was the best ice cream she’d ever tasted in her life.)

Add blinky stepping stones, loud techno music, and a stage (see videos below) and Dubai Garden Glow just skyrocketed to the top of my kids’ Happy Places list.  Getting to bring Grandma along was the cherry on top of the icing on top of this already delicious cake.

Dubai is not by any means green.  But for those of us who like to pretend, there’s The Green Planet, Dubai’s indoor tropical rainforest.  It’s a standalone bio-dome that is home to over 3,000 plants and animals.  Seemed perfect for entertaining visitors, and with Gramps and Bethan (the girls’ grandparents) in town, we decided to check it out.

Dubai likes superlatives and here we encountered another one - the largest indoor life-sustaining man-made tree in the world.  It was a pretty impressive fake tree serving as a home to exotic birds (toucans, parrots, etc. flying around), a sloth, chameleons, porcupines and other random animals.  

It was fun getting to see, touch, and learn about the various animals in the bio-dome, and it felt wonderfully refreshing to breathe clean air.  I loved the leaf-cutter ant colony and the brown/turquoise chameleon.  The entrance fee was a little steep but my folks definitely got their money’s worth - Gramps got to hold a hissing cockroach (eeewwwwwwwww!) and Bethan got pooped on by a toucan.  I’d call this experience a win.

Any average-educated person or Disney-watching child can tell you that the desert is home to camels.  But only super nerdy Nat-Geo-documentary-watching individuals know that flamingos also set up shop in the desert.  No - they’re not perching on my back porch or waiting impatiently at the parks to eat my expired bread.  However, these quirky feathered wonders are literally a five minute drive from my apartment in the Ras Al Khor protected bird sanctuary, a sort of marshy area just off the Dubai Creek which runs right through central Dubai.  

Visitors can go to three different “Hides” to spy on the flamingos (and several other uncommon bird species) while the birds unknowingly pose for thousands of pics a day as they chill out on one leg and eat water bugs.  It is especially exciting when the birds argue with and bite one another, and what an amazing sight when they take off in flight uncovering their brightest pink feathers!  I’d typically pass up the flamingo exhibit at the zoo because it’s rather boring to watch birds in captivity.  But seeing an exotic animal in the wild is simply awe inspiring.  I’ve always laughed at the idea of bird watching, but maybe there’s something to it.  I’ve already been out to see the flamingos three times, and I can’t wait to do it again!

A few weekends ago we spent an evening out at a place called Riverland.  It is a big compilation of restaurants, stores and also has two connecting theme parks, Legoland Waterpark and Bollywood.  The four different themed zones which are planted around the man-made river are the Boardwalk (set up to mimic an American beach boardwalk,) the French Village, the India Gate, and the Peninsula which was at the heart of the park.  

Riverland itself did not have that much more to offer than any other typical strip mall in Dubai, except that this particular weekend was special.  The annual Rhythm Festival was happening with numerous outdoor musical acts, concerts, and performances sprinkled throughout the entire park.  We saw jazz bands, drummers, solo artists, Emirati dancers, and even the local favorite, Mudassar Jackson (a Michael Jackson impersonator), who was BAD.  And if you love MJ as much as me, you’ll know that by BAD, I mean AWESOME!!!  Ella takes after my own heart and really lit up to the music which you can see in her dance video below.  Make sure to notice the other little kid dancing on her bench too.

We also had fun marching around the French Village with the New Orleans Marching Band who played those old American favorites like “When the Saints Go Marching In” prompting even the locals to march along.  And there was a fun workshop on Capoeira which is a strange but pretty cool Brazilian art combining dance with fight.  But the best part of the whole night was a bongo drum workshop.  My little drummer girl beat that drum for 10 minutes straight with an ear-to-ear grin that never let down.  She was in heaven and I was right there in heaven with her getting to watch my child take so much joy in making music.  The video below is kinda lengthy (5 minutes) but for Ella’s grandparents and aunts, her videos can never be too long.

Add in an ice cream shop called Ella’s Creamery and the night couldn’t have been any better.  You may be wondering about the lack of additional pics, but I was a dingbat and left my phone at home, and Ken’s phone died shortly after we arrived.  Hopefully my recap and the pics/videos below are enough to bring you a little bit closer to our side of the world.

Dubai has installed indoor air-conditioned cabins at nearly all of its bus stops which is super cool because it gets super hot here.  Seriously, all bus commuters should give a huge shout out to the Dubai Transport Authority because there’s nothing worse than being on a hot bus full of sweaty smelly passengers.  

While Dubai got this one right, it also compels me to point out something Dubai got wrong - public transportation. Clearly the need for an icebox at all stops indicates the bus routes are inadequate and time tables unreliable.  Otherwise people would arrive at their stop only minutes before the bus arrived to minimize waiting time and sun exposure.

At this point I’m going to reminisce about my past and compliment the Germans for what I’d call the best public transportation system in the world. I rarely ever needed to drive my car because not only were there so many public transport options, but I could count on them to be there and be on time. It’s clear that in Dubai, my icebox will be our trusty little Prius because driving is the way to get from here to there. Let’s just hope the AC still works considering it hasn’t been turned on in the past five years…yikes.

I read about an equestrian center called the Desert Palm Riding School which gives pony rides to little kids.  I decided to give it a go since what kid doesn’t like pony rides?  Well, thank goodness Ella is enamored with these gentle giants because it turns out Adalyn is not ready to sign up for the polo team.  I paid for both of them to ride, but Adalyn put the death grip on my hair and was going to drag me along side her if I left her up there on that saddle.

So no big deal, Ella got a longer ride, her own privately-guided tour around the whole polo field.  Adalyn was a good sport and cheered for big sis from the sidelines, and she even let me put that adorable riding helmet on her.  Ella absolutely loved it and told me afterwards, “mom, thanks for being so patient and waiting for me while I rode the horsey.”  It cracks me up to hear myself speaking out of my daughter’s mouth.

All in all it was quite a drive for only about 20 minutes of pricey fun, but so what?  With Ella starting school on Sunday, it’s my maternal right to spoil her while I still have her to myself all day.

It’s starting to get real hot in Dubai, and what better way to keep our bodies and minds cool than to add some water to our itinerary!  After hitting up one of our favorite playgrounds on the Marina, we decided to hop aboard a water bus and check out the other end of the Marina Walk.  We had the whole air-conditioned boat to ourselves, and the girls loved sitting on every chair and peering out every glass door at the bubbling water and other boats passing by.

We headed from the Marina Walk Water Bus Stop to our next destination, the dancing fountains.  Just in front of the fountains are some shaded café tables where a crafty little three-year-old talked me into a brownie.  When I gave in and told her that we’d share, she said, “yes, let’s share two brownies.”  Not in the mood to argue with my little negotiator, I caved.  I then caught a very rare moment shown below - Ella willingly sharing chocolate with another human being.  She really does love her baby sister.  

After the brownie (chocolate trumps any and every other fun activity,) Ella had a ball running through the fountains trying to dodge the squirts.  Check out the pics and video below.  Turns out Adalyn doesn’t really like the element of wet surprise so she played to the side, still as happy as a dry lark.  It was a simple yet picture perfect day.