Having a baby in UAE: Baby shower and sunsets

This was the scene atop Le Royal Meridian Hotel inside the Stratos Revolving Lounge in Abu Dhabi over the weekend.

As you can see from the photo, the clouds are back and the temperatures have started to cool. Yes, it is a splendid time of year to be in the capital.

And speaking of living in the UAE, Miranda and I were at our friends' baby shower ready to welcome the country's newest residents when I captured this photo. I suppose I should have been documenting the small sandwiches the ladies had during high tea or the many baby gifts the happy couple received.

But instead, I was drawn to this stunning sunset piercing through those rare Abu Dhabi clouds hovering just above the Corniche.

It was a co-ed baby shower, so we had two parties going on simultaneously. The ladies stayed in the restaurant, took in the views, sipped on tea and relaxed while the young mothers openly breastfeed their new babies. Always a refreshing sight.

Meanwhile, the lads retired downstairs to PJ O'Reillys Irish Pub, where we waited out the feminine festivities, huddled around the bar and tried to keep our alcohol intake at an appropriate level. The party started at 2pm. Day beers are always fun but too many can be destructive when you have a little one to care for (and a wife who has had too much fancy tea).

After an hour or two, the conversation at the upstairs party started to stall while the downstairs party conversation started to slur. Eventually, we combined forces again because someone had to finish off all those egg salad and cheese mini sandwiches that the women wouldn't touch.

And together, we all watched as the happy couple opened their baby gifts and the sun went down on another balmy winter day in the desert.

For any expecting parents in or around the UAE: If you have any direct questions about what it was like to give birth in Abu Dhabi, the different hospital options, doctors, the access to drugs, birth certificate shenanigans, etc. please send me an email (aarongray2337@gmail.com) and I will respond promptly. Trust me, we know what it's like to not get straight-forward answers from trained professionals here. All I can do is tell you exactly how our situation played out and offer my wholehearted advice. Cheers.

"Is Joe Flacco a ELITE Quaterback" sign in Abu Dhabi

The day started out like most do while living in the desert.

I woke up early, emerged from my bed, and then immediately did my customary 15 jumping jacks to ignite the morning. I followed that off by reciting the pledge of allegiance to an American flag duct-taped to the side of a book shelf, that contained my vast collection of encyclopedias, dictionaries and thesauruses.

My pregnant wife woke up because of the fracas and she was not happy.

Her head slightly emerged from a summit of preggo-hugging pillows but instead of yelling at me, she just gave me a sinister stare. Before she asked any questions, she noticed I was blowing the dust off my canary yellow Abu Dhabi T-shirt with the cool falcons on it, which quickly reminded her that today was going to be a special day.

I only wear that T-shirt for momentous occasions. Like when my wife and I got stuck in a Mumbai airport for 13 hours.

August is considered to be the hottest month of the year and I lived in one of the hottest cities on the planet so it was an ideal time for The Today Show and legendary weatherman Al Roker to visit our fair land.

Why did they come? I really have no idea. When I asked a few of the show's producers why, they just shook their heads while we all sweated our asses off. It was over 100 degrees outside and the Today Show wanted to film on the Corniche beach, which made perfect sense. I'm starting to sweat just thinking about it.

But then it hit me, like a sledgehammer in the middle of the night: the good people at NBC were trying to emulate the same conditions our gridiron heroes back home were battling through in the NFL pre-season.

It made perfect sense.

Just a few days ago, I got on the Internet and saw offensive linemen sitting in plastic garbage cans filled with ice. They did this to cool down their huge muscles. It was just like the motto for Dairy Queen: Hot eats and cool treats. If you can't take the heat, get yourself inside a garbage can full of ice.

* * *

My pregnant wife and I arrived about an hour early as I expected we would have to jostle for position among swarms of spectators and other well-wishers. To my shock and chagrin, not many people were there. To be exact, no one was there. A couple camera crew worker guys with mustaches ignored my inquiries and Roker was no where to be found.

There were actually more camels on the scene than people. Which, if you live in Abu Dhabi, is not uncommon. About a year ago, I had a pet camel but he ran away.

As the mid-day sun took flight and a few hard-core Americans started to trickle in, the temperature of the sand started to hit hellacious levels. I even heard a little boy ask his mother, "Why the hell are we here?" Seeing that I was about to become a father any day now, I took it upon myself to substitute in for the distressed and delirious parent.

"Buck up, mate. We're here to see Al Roker of course," I snapped at the young child in a motivating manner. "Aren't you interested in his take on the upcoming football season? Do you even care about America at all??"

The little boy started to cry. But he was so hot, not one noticed because his tears blended in with the sweat.

It was quite a scene. Blood, sweat and tears. These brave Americans were leaving it all out on the field. Just for the simple pleasure of rubbing elbows with one of our country's most prized possessions.

Just then -- from out of nowhere -- he emerged from his luxurious, air-conditioned tent. And then the crowd went wild.

That's my pregnant wife on the right, who jumped Roker's bones like he was a member of the Wu-Tang Clan. His white air-conditioned luxury suite, which was in the background, had very high security. You can't be too careful these days. The security guards were dressed in black (like the guy on the right) and they claimed to be ex-Commandos, who had flown in from Benghazi by helicopter the day before. Their job: protect Roker.

But they couldn't protect the words that would come out of his mouth.

You see, Roker possesses a master whit. A fine knowledge of all that is weather. In essence, if he can tell us the weather forecast, then he can actually predict the future. American weathermen have been revered for generations. Roker was no different.

Sure, their profession may appear easy to us simple folk. But their job description was solid: God among Men.

They have a cardinal skill that the rest of us wish to possess. What's the weather going to be like in Abu Dhabi? Cue Roker: "It's going to be hot. Very hot." Record that sound bite, play it again 365 times and then your work in the UAE is done for the year. You can pick up your annual tax-free paycheck on the way out and try not to get too much sand in your trousers.

As Roker started to shake hands with his sweaty fans on the beach, his security staff immediately deemed me as a threat. Before I could grab him for some one-on-one time and really press him with questions of significant merit, one of the men dressed in black shoved me aside and I fell into the scalding-hot sand.

"If you want to talk God -- ehh, I mean Roker -- then you have to have a sign, preferably one giving mad props to a US State, a relative living in that state, a sorority from a historical Black College or a political affiliation you have with Donald Trump. No exceptions," the security guard barked at me.

I puffed out my chest in an attempt to show the security guard my canary yellow Abu Dhabi T-shirt with the cool falcons on it. I assumed my attire was as good as any media credential but the security guard wouldn't budge. Unfortunately, the shirt was now drenched in blood, sweat and tears. The color from the T-shirt dye was starting to run so the security guard probably thought it was a fake.

My pregnant wife, still riding the high one only gets after schmoozing with a high-value celebrity, held me back as I threatened a physical confrontation with the Benghazi commando. She was right. This was no time for a showdown. She instructed me to use the pen, which was always mightier than the one-inch pocket knife I concealed in my jean shorts.

Time was of the essence and I knew I had to act fast because Roker was sweating like a melting piece of Easter bunny chocolate. It was just a matter of time before he would retire to the sauna inside his luxury suite. Any sauna would be a relief compared to the heat these brave Americans were suffering through on the beach. We lost a lot of fine soldiers that day but the question remained: With the NFL season about to commence, who are the quarterbacks on the fringe of being considered 'elite'?

I needed Roker to look into his crystal ball and reveal the answers to me and the rest of the world. So with the cameras rolling and an international audience watching, I scribbled the only name I could spell correctly on a sign and held it up for all to see.

SB Nation picked up the story and it even made the front page of the local newspaper in Abu Dhabi. It appeared the international media finally had a voice behind a question that had loomed all summer.

In the hot-as-hell desert, all of our athletic balls become deflated at some point. No one really cares about Brady.

About two minutes after Roker said, "Now let's see what the weather is like in your neck of the woods," he listened briefly to the little alien device stuck in his ear and then made a beeline for his air-conditioned tent.

No autographs, no kissing sweaty babies. Nothing. More importantly, no answers.

Just then, my wife let out a painful shriek and went into labor right there on the beach. I don't have a "PhD" at the end of my name or anything but I could only assume the drastic heat must have jump-started the contractions. Roker heard the commotion and rushed back to the scene. He was sweaty, he was tired but he was more than willing to deliver our baby. Like I said earlier: God among men.

After the birth, but before I instructed Roker to cut the umbilical cord, we shared a moment. We locked eyes and I could see a magical tear running down his face. He was happy. Overjoyed. Never did he think he would help deliver a baby on a beach in Abu Dhabi.

But before I could pop the big question, he gently placed his index finger on my lips in an attempt to silence me. "Shhhh," he said as drips of his sweat/tear mixture started to fall on my new-born child. "Just enjoy this..."

He then asked me what the baby's name would be. Overcome with joy myself, I couldn't quite voice the words but I leaned in close and whispered it into his sweaty ear. The name really isn't for public consumption but I'll give you a hint: It's started with a "J" and ended with a "Flacco".

Public displays of affection (PDA) allowed in UAE?

I noticed him walking towards us because it was a strange sight.

Under a fierce sun, a grown man, wearing a long-sleeve button-up security shirt and slacks, wiped a stream of sweat from his forehead as his black dress shoes sort of slouched though the sand while he walked.

When he came within a few meters of us, I started to wonder about the reason for his journey. When he arrived and as he stood over us, briefly shielding the sun from our faces, he spoke.

"This..." he said. "We do not do at the Corniche."

I peeled the sunglasses off my face to find out what he was babbling about. He then made a gesture in my direction and that's when I finally realized what was happening.

As if she had cooties, I quickly pulled my arm off my wife, who was sun bathing next to me. We had been laying together on towels at the Corniche beach and without thinking twice, I had extended my arm across her torso.

No big deal, right? Innocent enough.

But, according to this security guard, my actions with the woman I am married to was in violation. This form of affection -- yes, as subdued as you would think -- was not allowed while at the beach.

I did not get mad and apologized to the security guard. He sort of gave me a "I know it's a stupid rule but I have to enforce it" look before he politely thanked me and then started his long walk back to the chair and umbrella he had set up near the vacant lifeguard stand.

We had only been living in Abu Dhabi for about a week at that point and it was my first brush with the law. There were no tickets issued. The police were not called.

Just a gentle reminder of what you are allowed to do in public and what is frowned upon.

*   *   *

Ahhh, the old public display of affection (PDA) question comes up a lot when I talk with people getting ready to re-locate to the UAE. It's a valid concern and one that I carried over when I moved here in late 2012.

First of all: Relax. You are probably making it a bigger deal then it is. You probably have done your research and read all the online chat forums, blogs, etc. Don't let all that stuff scare you. 

Listen, it really comes down to respect. In the Arab culture, they consider open displays of affection (between men and women) very disrespectful. Yet, it is not uncommon to see two men, walking down the street, holding hands. I know, very strange.

What I'm trying to say is that when expats are in plain view of Emiratis -- perhaps at the beach -- it is probably not the best idea to makeout with your significant other. 

Just be respectful. I don't think I really crossed the line at the Corniche. You probably agree with me. But perhaps someone saw my arm around my wife, was offended and complained to the security guard. Who knows?

Regardless, my wife and I are quite affectionate with one another in public and we have never really had any major issues in the two years we have lived here. When we go out at night -- bars, clubs, etc. -- the situation is a little different.

We may be out dancing and/or kissing in a crowded club and the worst thing that happens is a security guard may tap you on the shoulder and wave his finger. Slightly embarrassing, yes, but we've never been thrown out of the place or anything like that.

So in essence (and this goes for just about anything when traveling): don't be an ass. 

Just be conscience of the host country's laws and customs. And be respectful. If you do that, you shouldn't have to give it a second thought.

Happy Birthday, UAE! Get your silly string ready...

There are middle-aged men I play pick-up basketball with that are older than the United Arab Emirates. That probably explains why I was the leading scorer last week.

The UAE just celebrated its 43rd birthday. Only 43 years old? I know, crazy.

Another December 2 has come and gone in Abu Dhabi as the capital celebrated National Day in style. And when you think of celebrating a country's birthday, overly-decorated cars and silly string comes to mind, right? Only in the UAE...

For more pictures, check out The National's photo gallery from UAE National Day.

They love to celebrate with silly string. I'm not really sure why. What exactly is silly string? Well, the good people at Google helped me clarify your inquiry.

Silly String (generically known as aerosol string) is a toy of flexible, sometimes brightly colored, plastic string propelled as a stream of liquid from an aerosol can. The solvent in the string quickly evaporates in mid-air, creating a continuous strand.

I spoke with a party vendor in the city and he said sales of the product jumps five fold around National Day as he can barely keep the item on the shelves during that faithful week in early December.

Then I asked if there were any other hot times for silly string sales?

"No, not really," he said. "We get a kid's birthday party every once in a while but that's about it. National Day is the biggest day of the year -- by far -- in terms of silly string distribution."

Kid's birthday parties and National Day celebrations? I'm starting to see a trend here.

***

The government announced a five-day break for all employees, but that did not really apply to us in the media. Someone has to put out a newspaper...

Regardless, the mood was also festive inside our office with balloons and lights but unfortunately, there was no sign of any silly string.

And when the dust finally settled on the silly string party that was National Day, it was the country's faithful maintenance workers were emerged as the true heroes.

They spent most of the wee hours following the celebrations cleaning up the corniche in Abu Dhabi and other festive zones through out the country.

Click here to read a story from The National about their silly string heroics

Happy Birthday, UAE!