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.

Hospital visit in Abu Dhabi?

WARNING: The following blog post is not for the squeamish. There is graphic material with some bloody images towards the bottom that may make some readers feel uncomfortable. If you are here just to see the photos, then scroll down, be lazy and have a good day. Cheers.

Have you ever been in a situation where you felt just completely embarrassed, but because you were surrounded by children, no one really noticed?

Let me explain.

When I leave my office at The National, I usually walk a block or two to meet my ride, catch the bus or hail a cab. During this mundane journey, I occasionally run into a gang of neighborhood kids who are usually playing soccer or cricket.

When they recognize me, they start calling out some nickname for me so I will play with them. I suspect the nickname is probably an insult in Arabic, because they tend to giggle afterward but it does not bother me. I was young too once, and even today, I enjoy the social ritual of public mockery.

On this day, they were kicking the soccer ball around and I had to throw out some of my moves. They cheered. My respect was restored. Everyone was happy.

Then the ball strayed into the main road and I ran after it so the kids did not get hit by a car. I grabbed the ball up, took a step onto the curb to avoid a passing car and accidentally collided with the corner of a metal traffic sign. Coincidentally, the sign was installed to alert drivers of ‘children at play’ in the neighborhood.

And when I mean collide, I mean the corner of the sign cut straight into my head. Like when Caribbean island folk use a dull machete to slice a hard coconut. My head was the coconut and the corner of the sign was the sharp object. Yes, immense pain.

Out of anger, I immediately let out monster F-bomb that was within ear shot of several nearby mosques.

They kids froze. They had probably heard their fathers or teachers use such forbidden language in the past and knew something was very wrong.

I tried to calm myself and then just threw the ball back to them, “See you guys later.”

No other adults had seen the quiet collision. The kids started playing again as soon as they got the ball back. I felt a strange tingle on the side of my face and that is when I knew this cut was gushing blood. A decent amount of blood.

I scurried into a nearby convenience store where the clerk recognized me. I essentially wanted to blurt out, “I NEED HELP!” but could only muster a whimpering “Do you have any tissues?” with my hand covering the gash on my head.

At first, the clerk pointed up toward a tall stack of unopened tissue boxes. He wanted to sell them to me. Then I took my hand off the wound and a stream of blood flowed down the side of my face and seeped into my shirt near my left collar.

He freaked out. The clerk stumbled back a few feet and then scrambled for his personal tissue stash. I don’t what it is about tissues here but everyone has them.

After I grab a few to put on the hole in my head, he looks at me like I’m an alien and does not know what to say. “Thanks,” I say as I stagger out the door.

Miranda was already on her way to pick me up so I did not really know what to do for the next 5-10 minutes. I grab a reflection of myself from a nearby car until an Emirati woman walked up and assumed I was trying to rob her by looking inside her car. She gave me a second look and then blankly asked, “Oh my, are you OK?”

I said I was fine and that my wife was on her way. She did not give it a second thought, got in her car and drove off. Seeing a man bleeding profusely from his head on the street did not peak her interest.

Miranda arrived shortly after and my main goal was to keep her calm.

I jumped in the car but she could see something was wrong. Probably because I had a hand cocooned by bloody tissues stuck to the side of my head. 

“Don’t worry babe,” I said. “Let me just take a shower. I’m sure I can just wash this off…”

I really thought that. That was my opinion at that exact moment. I must have been concussed.

After a brief debate, we decided that a visit to the hospital was next. But where is the hospital? Dammit, we really should get the GPS in our car updated…

After several U-turns and some white-knuckle driving, we arrived at the Al Noor Hospital near the Zayed Sports City complex in a hurry. I had just started to feel a little woozy. Perhaps it was from the blood loss. Maybe I was just hungry?

Anyway, after we found the ER, which was a mission in itself, there was a wide range of characters in there waiting for medical attention. The doctors were overwhelmed. I think from the pure fact that when your child has a cold, you are not supposed to bring them to the ER and then demand treatment.

How are you going to deny this wounded man?

I even heard the woman in charge tell a very concerned Emirati woman holding her sick child, "I am sorry but we have to serve people based on priorities. Your child has a cold. Do you see that man standing over there, bleeding from his head? I think he is next.”

Yes! Score one for the regular folks!!

But just as I was gearing up to go behind the ER closed doors, a female rugby player arrived by an ambulance and was laid up in a stretcher. She was surrounded by her dirty teammates fresh off the pitch and other medical staff. She was also gripping her ribs and moaning like death.

I then looked back at my supporting cast. Miranda gently waved and gave me a smile. “That’s OK, she can go ahead of me,” I said to the woman in charge.

When I got in the back room, the doctors gave me a quick look and wasted little time with the diagnosis. “Five stitches, maybe six.”

“And you just wanted to take a shower to wash it off…” Miranda said, as she shook her head.

“But doc, you won’t have to shave my head, right? I can’t lose these wonderful locks,” I asked.

The doctor, bald as hell, took solace in my request. “Just a little bit,” he promised.

They got to work, and shaved just area near the cut. The rest of the head was spared. Miranda was there to document the procedure even after some Arab man opened our door and demanded that the doctors ignore me (the guy with the head wound) and see his daughter, who had coughed three times the night before. Three times!

I have to give it up for the staff at Al Noor that day. Half of their work involved crowd control and dealing with irate locals, who are used to having their way. They were very courteous to Miranda and myself and had us out of there within an hour or so.

Oh, they also prescribed me a plethora of pain killers and strapped me up with a cool bandage around my head that kind of made me look hardcore. Like I should not be messed with.

The whole ordeal was very embarrassing and the worst part was that I could not play for my flag football team the next day. And it was the playoffs. Sorry, fellas.

For me, it was only my second ER visit since moving here almost two years ago. Once a year is not a bad average. Hopefully, 2015 will bring better fortune. 

Wearing a new red shirt to work that day was an unfortunate omen. The blood stains did come out after some deep washing and Miranda even said I could go anywhere I wanted after we left the ER. 

Several options came to mind: Fuddruckers, maybe the beach, or perhaps to the nearby ice skating rink (it is literally next door to the hospital). 

Since I had already fulfilled my concussion quota for the day, we chose the only place that really made sense to me at that moment…

International vibe on Turkey Day in Abu Dhabi

As I looked around the table at Thanksgiving, I couldn't help but crack a smile.

At first, I felt homesick because my family was gathered back in Herndon, Virginia and they had just started on their appetizers at about the same time we were trying to fight off the dreaded half-drunk, half-turkey consumption nap weariness.

But then, I felt that international vibe that you only get when you travel. That sense that you are surrounded by other like-minded people, who want to learn new customs, ask questions, and eat.

By the end of the meal, I felt like comparing passports with the people around me.

On this glorious American holiday, we had one Brit, one Frenchie, a Palestinian and two Indians (actually from India -- not the folks who broke bread with the white settlers) sitting at the table inside my apartment. For some, it was their first Thanksgiving and we were happy to host them and expose them to such a proud tradition.

My wife and I are American and don't worry, the US of A was well represented. Even though we had an eclectic group that would make the Model UN proud, to my left sat a US Navy SEAL.

I had not really spoke to Curtis in about five years. He reached out to me when he arrived in Abu Dhabi about two months ago. I quickly lost track of him because he had to go on one of those secret desert missions. You know, it was the hush-hush kind of stuff.

But he returned and messaged me two days before the feast. I couldn't think of a better way to honor America then to host a service member in my home for Thanksgiving.

I made sure to introduce Curtis to the rest of my international contingent. They all had heard of the US Navy SEALs but had never really met one in real life before. I think it was a pure case of America overload for them.

Later on in the evening, Curtis was supposed to tell them what the true meaning of Thanksgiving was but red wine took over and before we knew it, everyone was involved in a hotly-contested game of pin-the-tail-on-the-turkey.

Because isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about? Having fun with loved ones?

My wife cooked up a storm. We had family on the Skype screen. Loved ones from around the world were sitting at our table. I tell you, it does not get any better than that.

Happy Thanksgiving from Abu Dhabi!

Hosting weary travelers in Dubai

It's my esteemed pleasure to introduce you to John Townsend and Matt Cerny.

These two crazy bastards are old friends from my St. Thomas days and they are on a fantastic journey. An adventure that is the Mongol Rally 2014, an annual 10,000-mile race across Europe and Asia in a crappy car. All for charity. 

Survival of the fittest in its rarest form. Crazy terrain, different cultures and non-stop fun. They sleep in their car. They munch on coffee beans purely for caffeine assistance. And they are doing the whole thing with a big, fat smile on their faces. 

Click here to see their web site and follow their progress

The guys took a quick detour during the grand trip to go to a friend's wedding in Jordan and had a seven-hour layover in Dubai. Only six hours to see Dubai? Not a problem.

Miranda and I figured they would enjoy some cold beverages -- that was a given -- so we picked them up at the airport and we went straight to Mango Tree, an Asian-fusion restaurant at the base of the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa.

The thermometer was over 100 degrees but the beers were cold and the fountain show blessed us with a slight desert breeze every half hour. 

They sweated through their shirts but the scenery was definitely worth the price of admission.

Now I've brought visitors to the top of the Burj Khalifa before with lots of success. But I swear I suffered from some form of vertigo the days afterward so I didn't want that to happen again. Maybe it was camel burger I had for lunch that day? Who knows??

After we returned to the sweetness of air conditioning, we walked through the gaudy Dubai Mall and ended up at Left Bank for more drinks and some classic rock music. 

Next up was a quick visit to the pharmacy so they could grab some traveling drugs: pain relievers, anti-motion sickness, anti-diarrhea and "anti-anything else you think two idiots driving across Asia would need," which is exactly what Matt said to the Indian pharmacist at the counter. 

Later on, we dropped them off at the airport, said our goodbyes and then just like that, they were gone. They came, caught a buzz, broke a sweat, saw some crazy shit and can now cross "Dubai" off their wish list. Six hours. That's all I need, folks. 

You also have to appreciate other like-minded people who love to get out there and experience life. Racing through all these unknown countries armed only with a shrinking wallet, a camera and plenty of moxie? Sounds pretty badass to me. 

Safe travels, guys. Godspeed.

Living the VIP life in Abu Dhabi

Well like most social affairs in Abu Dhabi, the evening started out of with some light cocktails and sophisticated conversation over a game of backgammon.

In reality, Steve L got things going by telling me all about his favorite parts on the female body. As you can see by my reaction, I am quite amused and so enthralled by his argument, that I later subscribed to his weekly newsletter.

Be that as it may, it was my birthday.

My wife made some calls -- because she's smooth like that -- and set up a festive evening that was complete with delicious fare, strong rum drinks, bottle service at one of our favorite clubs and three different birthday cakes. Yes, somehow three cakes were involved. Crazy.

The cocktails at Trader Vic's at the Beach Rotana Hotel were strong and plentiful. We had a 20-person group so the good folks at the restaurant separated us into two big tables.

"I had no idea you were so popular," Steve said when we sat down.

"Oh, most of the guests were hired for the evening," I joked.

Steve's eyes lit up with anticipation as he started to straighten his eye brows.

"No, not that kind of hired guests," I scolded. "Get your head out of the gutter."

The strong rum drinks were starting to get on top of us just before some tequila shots decided to sneak into the party. 

My good mate Liam got me a shot glass for my birthday -- yes, I just turned 21 -- and right after the server took upon himself to fill up the skull-engraved shot glass with Jagermeister is when the night really started to get wild.

This was also about the same time our hired photographer also started to feel the effects of strong alcohol, as evident by his blurry photos. So after the restaurant, he just tried to keep up the best he could, as we ventured to the Intercontinental Hotel for our VIP reserved tables at the Yacht Club.

Getting bottle service at a club is always a great time. I wish I could do it every time I went out but that would put me straight into the poor house. 

Most of our friends did not know of our "VIP" plans and were pretty shocked when they saw the reserved tables and the bottles of vodka waiting for us. Champagne and cake were also involved.

It sure did put a smile on Steve's face.

As you can imagine, the evening quickly elevated to rockstar status. Miranda is the most amazing wife in the world because she set the entire thing up. I love that woman. 

A few people asked me why we went big on my 34th birthday, suggesting that 35 should be the milestone. Well, we looked at it like we wanted to see what a VIP birthday in Abu Dhabi could bring and we found out. It was an easy equation: Good friends, good food, strong drink and lots of dancing is good for the soul.

Miranda wasn't done there. The last part of the equation was recovery time and we got that when she surprised me the next day with a little getaway to St. Regis Hotel on Saadiyat Island. It was a beautiful place to spend quality time with with my lovely wife, drink plenty of water and recover.

I guess I'm getting old.

Yes, you CAN drink alcohol in the UAE

DISCLAIMER: We here at the Soggy Dirhams blog do not condone, participate or encourage excessive consumption of alcohol. We are not booze hounds. We are not sloppy. We do abide by all the strict alcohol regulations and rules in the United Arab Emirates and hold the utmost respect for those who enforce them. The purpose of this post is to prove to people living outside the Emirates that some of the far-fetched rumors they have heard about living here are indeed false. And on that note, Salud!

When my father caught wind of my plans to move to the UAE, he thought I was a little crazy. He said, "Son, there are two things they do not have over there: Women and booze. And I know you like both of those things..."

I love my dad and I always listen carefully to his words. But he was incorrect in that assesment for two reasons. Number 1) I am now happily married and I only have eyes for my beautiful wife. Isn't she gorgeous?

And Number 2) There is access to any type of alcohol you can think of in this country and even a few that are illegal in the West. But before I get ahead of myself, I can not stress this point enough: If you are caught drinking and driving here, even if a tiny drop of alcohol is in your system, YOU WILL GO TO JAIL FOR A VERY LONG TIME. If you come to visit or are thinking of re-locating here, it's just like going to any other country: please be conscience of their laws and regulations.

There are different bars and pubs in all of the hotels -- there are many across the UAE -- while you are also allowed to drink at your home, certain public sporting events and concerts and of course, at boozy brunch. Don't forget about the liquor stores, which usually close around 9pm daily.

Let's start with the pubs. There are many in Abu Dhabi and most stay open until 2 or 3am on the weekends. Just like where YOU live, right? As they are popular spots among Expats, the prices for drinks may get up in the stratosphere and the bartenders are usually clueless.

But sometimes, you will find that one gem and keep going back for more.

I have one qualm about bars here. Back in the States, like many people, I would generally go to certain pubs based on who is tending bar or if my friend was slinging the suds. Let's be honest, the best bartenders are usually the most experienced and knowledagle drinkers we know.

In the UAE, I guess bartending is not a very lucrative gig for Westerners so the industry usually attracts booze slingers from a junior-varsity team of mixologists. I have not received a drinkable martini since I moved here and good luck if you want a round of shots chilled.

The worst part is that the concept of visiting a friend's bar and going there just to see them is completely lost here. You know the song: Where everyboy knows your name...
Well, not in the UAE. Sigh.

Ahh, the boozy brunch. It is exactly what you think. And for a small price, every Friday, you can dine with the best of them as the all-you-can-drink champagne flows like water. Miranda and I have hit brunch at several hotels in Dubai and Abu Dhabi and every time we go, it never disappoints.

One law in the UAE that may seem different is that because this is a Muslim country and Muslims do not drink alcohol, non-Muslim residents need to have a liquor license in order to purchase it at a store or drink at home.

The access at my local liquor store is pretty solid as cases of beer are stacked to the cieling while different wines, hard liquor and even drinks that apparently make you hallucinate are available for purchase.

Walking out of the liqour store after a recent splurge, I decided to throw out my best Nicholas Cage impression from Leaving Las Vegas.

You know, Sin City and Abu Dhabi... Very similiar places.

As you can see, when you buy alcohol here, they put the bottles in a thick, black plastic bag as to not reveal to Muslims what you are carrying. As if the recognizable booze body bag doesn't give it away.

On more than one occasion, I have flagged down a cab but when they saw what I was carrying, they refused to give me a ride. The drivers, both times, were Muslims and didn't even want the alcohol in the trunk of their cab.

Drinking with friends and family at home is my favorite because we have a pretty cool balcony and there are no bars in this town that will show NFL games. And if there were two -- make that three things -- I would not compromise after moving to the UAE, it would be my woman, my booze and my football. Cheers.