For those of you hoping to see some spectacular desert sunsets, camel racing, mosques, oases, or other such stereotypical Middle Eastern fare, you'll have to wait for another blog.
This one includes some of the more humorous things I've seen since arriving. Do the pictures speak for themselves? Perhaps. In case they don't, I've added a few comments.
When I met Kimberly, I pretty much decided to spend most of my spare time with her. That included the once-daily hour I normally spent in the gym. So, yeah, I'm a little out of shape. I also remembered my weight gain of my first six months in Saudi. Heat, meat/rice meals, and the generally sedentary atmosphere of the Gulf will put 20 pounds on just about anybody. In Abu Dhabi, I promised myself I'd do a much better job. I thought about joining a gym (for those of you who followed my blogs elsewhere, you'll realize the gym is as much about blogging material as it is about fitness) as I imagined the fashion sense I might have seen in a gym filled with European expats and Middle Eastern men. It would have been AWESOME!!!
But with this...why bother going to the gym. I took the picture and decided to blog about the box.
Seriously. With the woman in the neon blue one-sy and the child molester in the short-shorts, who wouldn't want to buy this fantastic piece of equipment (note to Mom and Dad - this is sarcasm. Please do not read this as a suggestion to purchase this for your basement full of exercise equipment cum laundry hangers. The 1980s Soloflex is sufficient for both).
There's a giant Carrefour in Abu Dhabi. It's kind of like a Super Wal-Mart, though I haven't seen any of these people there. Groceries, carpets, appliances...and lots and lots of cheap clothing.
Apparently, people looking to buy such cheap clothing are not at all concerned with the fact that a) they're in Abu Dhabi, not Dubai; b) that it's not really a falcon on the shirt, but a Bald Eagle; and 3) that this majestic bird is a symbol of ole' fashioned American pride, not the precious bird of Arab (grammar police: in English, we either say "the Arab" or "Arabia". "Precious Bird of Arab" doesn't make much sense. But, then again, neither does this shirt...)
Some things do not transliterate well from other languages into English. "Saloon" is for drinking. "Salon" is for haircuts...and generally for women. Although in my more metro-days I may have gone to a Salon or two. And most certainly several Saloons.
I'd never tried a Moroccan Saloon, though, and was curious.
Notice the second line down. Golden Facial.
Not exactly a Golden Shower, but enough to make me nervous about stepping foot inside...
Lastly, I saw this.
Comments at Huffington Post (I read it. A know your enemy kind of thing...) seemed to focus on how sad it was that the Palestinian Zoo couldn't afford a real zebra. As usual, Arianna misses the point.
"Smuggling wildlife into Gaza came to international attention in March 2007 when EU officials...caught a woman trying to sneak in three live crocodiles. The toothy reptiles, each about 16 inches long, were taped to the woman beneath a loose fitting robe. The woman, who came under suspicion for appearing inordinately fat..."
Too bad she didn't use the Rowing Exerciser.
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