Blog move!

Dear readers (all three of you!), please be informed that, in an attempt to go the professional route (*ahem*), I have moved my blog to my shiny new website: CharlotteBaz.com. See you there, hopefully!

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For those who don’t like to read

Stripes!

Peirut pest control... They can kill even planes.

At the Grand Mosque

:D

Posted in Abu Dhabi, daily life, Middle East, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Showing ankles

Every woman who has spent an extended amount of time in the UAE and ventured out on the street by herself (God forbid) at times has at some point had encounters with a certain type of men. They are often wearing traditional Arab dress, and if driving a car it most likely is a white SUV with tinted windows. More often than not, they are old enough to be your dad.

I am a pretty decent looking example of the female gender, if I do say so myself, and I receive my fair share of male attention. Not that most men who make it their business to leer at women actually require said woman to be hot, or anything, as long as it’s got boobs of some kind it’s worth leering at. All sorts of interesting growls, howls, whistles and “hm-HMMMs” are produced when confronted with an acceptable sample of woman, and it all honestly does not bother me very much.

Oh noes, ankles!


These men, however, don’t do any of that. They are much worse. They make me feel uncomfortable. They are POLITE. They will start with a big smile, and then they usually ask where the lady is from? They will inquire after your opinion of the UAE, your career and how your day has been so far. It is EXCRUCIATING. Not because I am a social retard, but because they really don’t actually want to know about my career. When I get leered or whistled at, or get a “you so beautiful” randomly flung my way, I can simply ignore it entirely and be on my merry way. But I can’t just ignore someone who is being POLITE, can I? I haven’t been brought up that way! When someone walks over and says hello, you can’t just keep walking. Even if you know exactly what it is they want, even if they are technically not being polite as they would never act the same way towards a woman wearing abaya for example, I would still feel like a bad person if I’d pretend there was no one there.

What I do in stead, generally, is wave the wedding ring in their face after the initial “hello”. It’s big and sparkly, probably just for this reason, and should get the message across. “THIS SPOT IS OCCUPIED.” More often than not, though, it doesn’t seem to have much effect. “Oh a husband, how nice, now can I have your business card?” I suspect the reason behind that is that, in their eyes, my husband can’t possibly be a very good one if he lets me walk the streets by myself wearing something that just MIGHT reveal my ankles, so clearly I am in dire need of a man who would never let me suffer such an indignity. Unfortunately for them, I don’t have a business card.

Posted in Abu Dhabi, culture shock, daily life, marriage, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Trolling – Dutch style

You know when sometimes, someone is calling you and even though they CLEARLY have the wrong number they just don’t seem to get it?

Today was my lucky day.

We have a house phone here in Abu Dhabi, which we hardly ever use except to call our respective mothers since international calls are cheaper on a landline than a mobile phone. At around 11 AM this morning, someone started calling this number. When I answered the phone, they’d hang up. After about 5 times, I was already fed up and the next time they called I answered with “You have the WRONG NUMBER. STOP CALLING.” and hung up, thinking that would be the end of it.

I was wrong. Three minutes later, the phone rang again. This time I simply did not answer, but the ringing continued. I took the horn off the hook, but that left me with having to listen to a very annoying BEEEEEEP sound in stead. AAAARGH.

Then the phone rang again. I sat down in front of it, willing it to burst into flames. Then I had an idea.

I picked up and answered with “Met de assistente van dokter van der Ploeg!
They hung up. I giggled.

Next time it rang, I answered with “JAZEKER DE HYPOTHEKER!
They hung up, and haven’t called again. Victory!

Posted in Abu Dhabi, daily life, Dutch | 2 Comments

Tabbouleh

Today I made my first tabbouleh.

I am married to a Lebanese man, after all, it is in all honesty a bit of a travesty that it has taken me so long to give in. I can vividly imagine the face of many a Lebanese mama, going “haram…!” when learning that my poor husband does not get homemade tabbouleh every day. Haram, indeed.

The thing is, I like to think I’m a pretty decent cook. Not stellar, not fantastic, just overall pretty ok. But when you’re married to someone from a country with a cuisine as de-freaking-licious as Lebanon, and said spouse might not be very fond of the country as a whole but LOVES the food, and you yourself never even knew there was such a thing as Lebanese cuisine before you became acquainted with this man, then trying your hand at one of the signature dishes is SCARY. At least when anything else I make turns out different that originally planned, I can pretend it’s supposed to be like that.

Om nom nom!

Still, today was the day: I was going to make tabbouleh. With Fairuz in the background for mental support (although she probably only ever eats caviar and thinks tabbouleh is for peasants) and a whole lot of parsley in my shopping bag, it was really going to happen. I may never have made it before, but I sure have eaten it a lot, so I know what I like at least. I chopped the parsley almost to a pulp, because I hate it when the leaves are too big. I put a bit more mint than normal (because I love mint, who doesn’t?) and I only put half an onion since it was a very big one. Then, like magic, tabbouleh appeared! I like to think I did a pretty good job, let’s hope the husband agrees.

Next up: kibbeh. Eek.

Posted in food, Lebanon, marriage | 2 Comments

Interesting observation

One of the many legal differences between the UAE and, for instance, the Netherlands, is that unmarried people of the opposite sex are not allowed by law to live together. No shacking up with your boy- or girlfriend, you need to make a trip to the altar first.

In my head that’s all a bit backwards, but hey. It’s nothing compared to the laws on homosexuality. From Wikipedia: “Sexual relations outside of a traditional, heterosexual marriage are a crime and punishments range from jail time, fines, deportation, and the death penalty. A person may also face forced hormone treatments which may include chemical castration.”
That sucks. Yikes.

But you know what, gay couples can live together without problems, as opposed to straight unmarried couples! As long as the world doesn’t know they’re gay, that is. While I would seriously discourage any openly gay person to so much as set foot in this country, at least on that one front they actually have it easier than their straight counterparts!

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Fashion Lament

This post is not really about the Middle East. Still, this is my blog and I will damn well write about whatever I feel like. End of disclaimer.

Today I went shopping. It is sale season after all and summer in Abu Dhabi means over half my wardrobe is way too hot and/or tight, or just too revealing to wear in public. It’s an Islamic nation after all, I don’t care that British women seem to think hot pants and strapless tops are OK, they’re not. Not at all.

Shopping for clothes used to be pretty much my favourite thing in the world, but it isn’t anymore. No, not because I got fat (I didn’t!), but because the… “spark” is gone. I used to be able to fall helplessly in love with a cute dress or squeal in joy at the sight of the perfect cardigan, but those days are gone. I don’t really know why. Yes, I realize this is about as “first world problem” (I do love that term) as it gets, and if that offends you I suggest you go and donate last month’s salary to Doctors Without Borders RIGHT NOW. If you didn’t spend it all on shoes yet, that is. In other words, shut up.

I just can’t find those kind of clothes anymore. There’s always something just not right; the wrong fabric, some ugly glittery applique, too short, too tight, wrong cut, ugly plastic see-through straps (eeewwww), wrong colour, stupid plasticky belt, empire waist (hello fashion designers, not all women have massive knockers, thanks), impractical straplessness… You get the idea.

In addition, I keep getting the feeling that clothes are made for midgets. I’m 1.74m. This is not exceptionally tall. Yet, half the dresses I find look like they were made for a six year-old when I try them on. Waist at the ribcage and hemline just below the ass is NOT a good look, at least on me. Don’t you even dare suggest I wear a legging under it, if anyone ever utters the word “legging” in my direction again I swear I will stab them with a rusty spoon.

I know right, MY LIFE IS SO HARD!

Posted in Abu Dhabi, daily life | 3 Comments

One year abroad

Yesterday it was exactly one year ago that I boarded a plane headed for Beirut, without a return ticket.

So much has happened since then that it feels like much more than just a year, but at the same time it is hard to believe I have been away from Amsterdam, family and friends for a whole year. Not to get all sentimental or anything, but that’s a long time and a lot of gatherings and occasions that I have not been a part of. Four seasons, one Queensday, one Uitmarkt, one Cito toets, one Sinterklaas and Christmas, a ton of birthdays, one whole year of school, I could go on.

Of course, things haven’t exactly been very quiet on my end either. Husband and I became husband and I rather than “boyfriend” and I, moved house three times (Broummana to Beirut to Broummana to Abu Dhabi), saved the lives of two kittens (one of whom now has kittens of her own it seems…!), ate a whole lot of sushi, furnished two apartments, taught each other several swearwords in Dutch and Arabic and all in all had a whole lot of fun. While I am not always delirious with joy about our current country of residence (see previous post), it’s a good place for us to be right now and it’ll only get better. I hope I won’t ever have to say I spent TEN years abroad, but another five or so doesn’t sound bad at all.

Posted in Abu Dhabi, Dutch, Lebanon, marriage, Middle East, travel | 3 Comments

Homesick, but not for Amsterdam

I miss Beirut. I suppose normal people living away from home tend to miss their home countries, but it is currently raining and 15 degrees in Amsterdam so thanks but I’ll pass.

I miss my adopted home country. I miss the mountains, the views, the chaos and the green. I miss being able to wear a spaghetti strap top or a knee-length skirt in public without feeling awkward. I miss my mother in law’s sambousek, the labneh and the man’oushe. I miss the rocky coast and river valleys. I miss drinking Bacardi Breezers on the beach. I miss watching the rain in Broummana, while the sun shines on the mountains in the distance. I miss goofing around in the Nahr Ibrahim river with friends, while an elderly couple sits watching us in the shade with smiles on their faces. I miss the weather, the sky and the autumn rains. I miss being in a place that feels real, with both its beautiful and ugly traits openly admitted and accepted.

I could go on forever about the things that I miss about Lebanon. What I do not miss is the crappy internet. I have tried long and hard to think of anything else the UAE has on Lebanon, but the internet is the only thing I can come up with. Oh, there are malls. They have lots of shops. Hooray.
Husband is suffering from the typical “Lebanese person who up until recently lived or still lives in Lebanon” syndrome. In his opinion, the fact that Lebanon has crappy internet (it really does, I can’t argue with that) and several hours of no power a day makes it THE MOST HORRIBLE COUNTRY IN THE WORLD EVER and the UAE is SO MUCH BETTER IN EVERY WAY. (this syndrome apparently reverts after several years of not living in Lebanon, when the Lebanese living abroad generally start considering Lebanon heaven on earth) I guess it helps that he’s not an outdoorsy person. But I am. And I am already getting frustrated by this “home – taxi – mall – taxi – home” life, while we’re not even 6 months in.

I know we probably arrived at the wrong time – right at the start of summer – but I can’t help but feel an aversion to this country. It is not real. It doesn’t feel like a proper place. It has no visible history, for one. The people who have made it what it is weren’t even born here. There’s no sense of community or of belonging, everyone is here only temporarily to make money. No one wants to make emotional investments. As a result, the place feels hollow and shallow. All your basic needs are provided, but that’s pretty much it. I would go back to Beirut in a heartbeat, but I’ll have to be satisfied with just going for a weekend in July for now. Can’t wait.

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A cat and some camels

The kitty in the picture is my kitty. His name is Duster, although he is more often referred to as Fluffles, Fluffbucket, Mr. Fluffikins or Fluffmuffin. Husband rescued (read: paid a ridiculous amount of money for) Duster from a pet shop and brought him home as a surprise for me, because we are finally able to have a kitty in our home. Finally, after almost a year of moving all over the place and never staying in one home for very long, we’ve settled. (For at LEAST a year or two. Better than nothing, eh?)

After one long and tedious house hunt including exciting sights of cockroaches, scary elevators, extremely badly placed kitchens, *very* large families living in *very* small apartments next door, dreamy rooftop terraces and obscure “water filtering machines” taking up entire rooms of the apartment, we finally found our place and moved in about a month ago. Yes, I know, I’m slow to report these things. Bad journalism on my part, but then husband is the editor, not me.

We’ve even had guests already; first husband’s brother and a week later my parents. Hi mum! Husband and I are kind of boring in our everyday life when it’s just the two of us (and we like it that way, thanks) but when you have guests, you have to go and do touristy stuff. Right? Right. So we did all two (out of three) Major Abu Dhabi Tourist Attractions: a desert safari and the Grand Mosque. The third option would be Ferrari World, but we didn’t get to that. Shame.


The safari was, in all honesty, very cool. You get driven out into the desert by a friendly Indian driver, who starts out the day by stopping at a camel farm. Here, you can see camels. I took a picture of camel butts, just for you. Heheheh.

After the camels, you proceed to wanting to puke out your guts by driving on and over sand dunes like a maniac: dune bashing. I actually did not get sick at all, because I’m awesome like that, and neither did anyone else in our car. I got told later that several people in other cars did get sick though. Weaklings. After the sandy roller coaster, you are dropped off at a camp in the desert. Here you can get your hand decorated with henna, put on traditional Emirati garb for that perfect “look at us respecting the local culture” photo, have “traditional Arabic coffee” courtesy of Nescafe and smoke shisha, along with a barbeque dinner. Interestingly, there was also a belly dancer. This is interesting because belly dancing is pretty damn far from “local” culture, but I suppose it’s what tourists expect when they come to the Middle East. Egyptian and, for example, Iranian culture are, after all, entirely the same thing as far as they are concerned.

Still! Sometimes it’s fun to do stupid touristy stuff, even if you know it’s about as authentic as a plastic model of the Burj Al Arab. Now the guests have all left again, and we’re slowly moving into “omfg it’s so hot I can’t move” – summer. Thankfully, I have always been good at keeping myself busy.

Posted in Abu Dhabi, daily life, tourism | 2 Comments