Metallica in the desert

When I was mapping out my social agenda last weekend, I was pulled in opposite directions.

On one hand, my office was throwing a grand soiree to celebrate the 5th birthday of The National and on the other hand, Metallica.

It pained me to see both scheduled the same night but a ray of sunshine broke through the confusion clouds when I found out the events would coincidentally be held very close to one another on Yas Island, which is a few miles outside of Abu Dhabi, hosts a Formula One race track and is home to Ferrari World.

The office party started at 8pm and Metallica was to take the stage around 9.30pm. Of course, I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too, but this was going to take some careful planning. 

I told Miranda to dress for the concert, not the party. But for those who know Miranda, she loves a great party and can rock out to just about anything, which why she is my lovely partner in crime on these festive evenings.

We showed up a little early for the office party and the set-up was classy. Real classy. Big round tables with white clothes, a dance floor and a copious amount of kind Filipino servers ready to assist us with any need.

Meanwhile, just down the street, thousands of Arab rockers were loading up on beer courage and sweating in the desert humidity. 

While we sipped drinks with esteemed colleagues, we could hear the concert sound checks from the balcony of the reception hall. I tried to load up on a little beer courage of my own before fellow sports guy Stevie Sanchez told me they did, in fact, serve beer at the concert.

I almost fainted.

This is a Muslim country so outside of a hotel or an elusive liquor store, beer is not sold anywhere. 

I thought I was going to hit the Metallica mosh pit with a frosty Fanta in my hand. But BEER? BEER!! I was just elated that someone at the du Arena actually used their head when they designed the place and had a financial profit in mind. 

After politely excusing ourselves from the party, Mr. Sanchez, Fergie, Dubai Sarah, Miranda and I rolled into the show and made a beeline for the beer tent. Four tall 20 oz Heinekens cost 150 dirhams (which is like 40 bucks), which sounded good to me. Sanchez and I grabbed a four-pack each and then we made our way to the lawn.

See, the du Arena (du is a local cell phone service provider) is basically just an open-air general admission venue. There's a huge stage, a huge lawn in front of it and it's every man for himself.

Guns N' Roses killed it there last month, Andrea Bocelli and his 70-piece orchestra made an appearance earlier this year and I heard the Bieber is playing there in the next few weeks. It's a great venue and can hold up to 50,000 people.

When Metallica visited two years ago, the place sold out. Those guys are getting on their years but they still put on a freaking awesome show. Abu Dhabi loves them...

Yes, we crushed beers and rocked out to songs I have not heard since high school. For the first time in a few years, I was reminded how great it was to see live music at a big-time venue and go crazy at an outdoor concert. 

It felt good. It felt like home. 

Celebration champagne, anyone?

I was consumed with sports page layouts this week when a fellow Yank from the newsroom, Steve, approached me with a trivia question.

"You know what today is?" he asked.

"Tax day, yeah, haven't tackled that pickle just quite yet," I barked back without taking my eyes off the computer monitor. I've tapped my father, a former CPA in a past life, for US tax help but the U.S. Virgin Islands play by their own rules. We'll see what happens.

"No, man. Today marks four months for us," said Steve, who sat next to me during our 13-hour flight to Abu Dhabi.

Right away, I looked to him like he was going to hand me a glass of champagne. He did not. But it forced me to briefly reflect on the past 1/3 of a year in my life.

How could I have lapsed on such a monumental landmark? You know why? Because it's really not a big deal.

Don't get me wrong: I love people but why do so many of us put so much stock into meaningless anniversaries based around how long they have lived in a certain place? In the islands, you see and hear about it constantly. I'm sure it's no different in the sand box. Like when people mention how long they have lived here or there, it's as if they now deserve a cookie for the accomplishment.

"Today marks 8 months, three weeks and two days since I moved to (blah, blah, blah)..."

I can't remember my own phone number much less the mundane dates that are littered throughout my scattered past. I guess my thoughts are elsewhere these days...

Like what it felt like when I left my office in the Middle East late at night this week just before wire reports came in about a terrorism bomb attack at the Boston Marathon.

Or what was going on in my head when the plants in our apartment started to violently shake yesterday while my fiance and I prepared a late lunch. The biggest earth quake to hit these parts in over 50 years dominated my thoughts and left me with one conclusion: these are strange times, indeed. What's next?

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am much more concerned with the present and the future compared to the past. If I'm hiking a mountain, give me a set of binoculars so I can scout the peak. If I look back down to see how far I've already walked, it will just make me nauseous.

But if you hand me a glass of champagne, I will never decline. That's a promise.

Yank missing the Yankees

For as long as I can remember, I have always associated the month of March with the college basketball Madness that ensues.

Right before this year's tournament, my editor, one the few Americans in the office, told me that watching and obsessing about the NCAA Tournament is one of the first things to fall by the wayside when living in the desert.

The games are on TV in the middle of the night so viewership is way down. Actually picking the brackets is like shaving in the dark. I did not watch a single game this season. Pathetic.

Regardless, I am still within the Top 3 in our 20-person office pool. A few weeks ago when the brackets came out, I had to explain to several people the whole concept behind the tournament seeds and how Florida Gulf Coast won't win a single game.

"Which team does Michael Jordan play for?"

"Gonzaga? Is that the school's real name?"

"Aaron, you said you went to James Madison, does that mean you picked them to win the whole thing?"

See, the Brits I work with put all their allegiance toward the team that is closest to the town they grew up in. So naturally, they thought the JMU Dukes were my team and that I bleed Purple and Gold (Is that our school colors, I can't remember?)

Just the other day, I was tracking MLB Opening Day online and reading about Bryce Harper going yard twice in the Nationals home opener. When I looked up from my computer, I watched as a fellow Yank sports hack, Steve, was explaining in detail to some Brits in our office what a Kareem Abdul-Jabbar hook shot looked like.

Ugh. I miss America sports.

Don't get me wrong, I now know a lot about the professional football leagues all across Europe and am just scratching the surface of what cricket is. I have this amazing experience to thank for that.

But I do miss the feeling of drinking a tall beer, sitting in the outfield stands under the sunshine and watching CC Sabathia throw some high heat.

For the record, I picked Louisville to win it all. If they do so, then I will scoop up a cool Dh1,400 off my basketball-savvy international colleagues. So at least I got that going for me. That, and the upcoming fantasy football office league. No, Manchester United will not be involved in that one.

Cost of living

For a country that will put you behind bars for bouncing a check, the collectors in the UAE sure do have a lax approach when you're ready to sign on the dotted line.

I have lived in my one-bedroom apartment on the seventh floor of a 17-story tower since January 15. The first utility bill (electricity and water) came last week and it was super cheap. Almost too cheap.

The first wireless internet and home phone bill also surfaced and just like the utility bill, it was low. I have splurged on a pair of chicken shawarmas for dinner that cost more.

Only problem: I couldn't pay my Abu Dhabi Distribution Company bill using the Internet. What a world?

So when I walked into their office, which was located in the basement parking area of a nearby mall, I took my DMV-style printed ticket and waited in an empty reception room until my number lit up on a digital display that hung above five desks occupied by bored Emirati men.

When I sat down with one of them -- only after my number flashed above his desk -- he was surprised that I had come in to pay such a low bill. I really wanted to set up an auto-pay system so I wouldn't have to spend any more my free time inside a parking lot basement office.

Confused Emirati employee: Why, you have three months to pay this. Why you come today?

Responsible consumer: No, it says right there on the ticket that it's due today. And why couldn't I pay online?

CEE: Oh, the system has been down.

RC: OK, whatever. Can I set up an auto-pay system with you guys?

CEE: No.

RC: Just no? That's it. Wow.

He sort of wiggled his nostrils, scratched his nose and then looked at his compute screen, which was full of Arabic words and esoteric symbols that I would never understand.

He wrote down a phone number on the back of his lunch receipt and pushed it across the table toward me. He then told me to call that number and I can pay over the phone. I turned it over and discovered he liked chicken shawarmas, too.

So to pay a utility bill, you can't do it online. If it's not a massive bill, then a personal exchange won't work either. Instead, this guy wanted me to call it in. Maybe I should lick a stamp and do it the old-fashion way? Or send a smoke signal??

*   *   *

Two days later, I realized I was running very low on my meds. Really low, like I had one day's worth (Sorry, mom). So I pulled out my brand-new insurance card and hit the phones. After a few attempts, I was told I could just walk-in from 8am until noon the next day and a doctor would eventually see me.

When I got to the receptionist -- the only man in a very busy room -- he asked if I wanted to make an appointment. I said I didn't need an appointment and just needed a refill. I reluctantly pulled out my old medicine container, which was last filled at a neighborhood grocery store in Sterling, Virginia.

I figured it was a shot in the dark. A medicine container from another continent? He gave me a quick look and then politely asked me to sit down.

The place was full of busy Filipino nurses running around. They were the ones doing all the work. Within five minutes, even before I gave them my DOB, one of them grabbed me and escorted me to a doctor's office.

I was in and out of this place with my prescription filled in 30 minutes. It may have been a new record. Definitely faster than any time I've spent in a U.S. doctor's office. I didn't even have time to read the book I brought for the expected boredom.

And the final bill was less than the round-trip taxi fare from my apartment. I'm not sure if it's because the medical help here is that awesome or if I just have celebrity insurance. But it was pretty sweet.

See kids, it pays to live outside the United States. Now who wants a chicken shawarma?

Miranda

So the champagne was on ice and finally, the woman I had fallen in love with while living in the Caribbean was arriving in the Middle East to live with me.

The first five weeks I was in Abu Dhabi were memorable but very lonely. I started my job. I found us a place to live. But somehow, I was sure everything I knew about this city and my life here was about to change. At least that's what I predicted while I put on my most 'dapper' clothes and took a taxi to the airport.

Her flight was delayed, which gave me more time to pace around the modern Abu Dhabi airport where public displays of affection were somewhat overlooked. Ahh, the comings and goings of life. At the airport terminal. Probably one of the most-overplayed final scenes in any movie, besides the beach.

But this would not be the final scene to my Middle East experience but the opening act. How else would you explain it when the hairs stood up on the back of my neck the first second I saw this gorgeous woman walk through the electronic arrival doors and back into my life?

Yes, Miranda was a big reason why I knew we could take this Abu Dhabi challenge head on together. During our twilight on St. Thomas, we had many discussions on where our future was headed.

Then we had some more discussions. And a few more.

While in London, Detroit, and even in Toronto, we gabbed about our prospects, our priorities and our dreams.

Somehow, we ended up in this desert oasis, where tropical palm trees line the city streets and the dirhams don't get soggy in your bathing suit pocket while you canoodle at the swim-up pool bar.

I can say with certainty that if Miranda didn't want to or couldn't or wouldn't -- take your pick -- travel with me to Abu Dhabi, then this chapter in my life would have been passed over.

The fact is that we knew we couldn't live without each other and when you can recognize that, nothing else really matters. Having a cool job and living in a unique city on the other side of the world is just a bonus.

*   *   *

I apologize for the lapse in blogs. See, when Miranda came into town, everything did change (so much more for the better) and we started to explore right away.

In the meantime, we went on a desert safari, saw the camel races in person, visited the Emirates Palace (a few times) and discovered pristine beaches that would rival the finest in the Caribbean.

So I have some catching up to do and it starts right now...Cheers.

 

For your viewing pleasure

As Miranda and I sauntered through Marina Mall, one of the many gaudy retail fortresses that are peppered through out the city, I kept a keen eye on all the different signs.

First of all, malls – especially ones that look like circus space ships – usually make me nauseated. The lack of directories in this particular one frustrated me even further.

But on our way to the movie theatre, I took note of the signs because they had all your typical ones...

"Restrooms"

"Food Court"

"Prayer Room"

When we got to the "Cinema," there were many options. Unlike on the islands, where anything from Tyler Perry stayed in the theater for months, all the newest flicks were already out here.

We settled on Zero Dark Thirty, the new Kathryn Bigelow flick about the U.S. build-up to catching Osama Bin Laden and raiding his safe house in Pakistan.

So imagine this: We have two white people living in a Muslim country and watching a movie about an Islamic extremist who launched a Jihad against America, and the U.S. assault to take him down. Sounds pretty safe, right?

Well, tempers inside the theatre immediately boiled over when the fuzzy flick began and viewers were asked to put on their 3D glasses. The cinema guys messed up and started Life Of Pi, which opened with the pretty scene of a luscious forest.

"This doesn't look like Pakistan," I whispered to Miranda as pissed-off Emiratis went charging for the exit to try and correct the problem.

A few weeks earlier, I also saw Sean Team Six: The Raid on Osama Bin Laden, which was the junior-varsity version of the Bigelow flick but it also featured the rapper Xzibit and he wasn't pimping any rides in this one.

During that particular movie cinema experience, I was by myself and on top of that, I was the only white person in the theater. Once again, it was an interesting environment.

Now don't get me wrong, I love America but I'm not going to be one those guys who hoots and hollers when the Navy SEALs kick some ass on the big screen (especially while in a Muslim country). At the same time, I really didn't like seeing all those college kids cheering in front of the White House like it was New Year's Eve when the Bin Laden news broke.

After the movie ended both times, I have to admit there was a slightly-heightened sense of what I was doing and how even my body language may be read by those around me.

I think it all really comes down to respect.

If you don't have it, then visiting or living anywhere in this particular part of the world is not for you. Luckily, in the UAE, there is more tolerance and a bit more acceptance of Western culture, which clearly sets it apart from the rest of the Middle East.

That, and the malls. There's an indoor ski slope in one of the Dubai malls. But that's a story for another day.

Crazy views of Dubai

Who thinks they are so awesome because their cell phone can take a panoramic picture?

Don't be shy. I'm raising my hand, too.

If you're not afraid of heights then you have to check out this video:

I've only visited Dubai once so far but have marveled over it for years. At one time, more than 45 percent of all the construction cranes in the world were in Dubai as the city blew up into this metropolitan wonder land in the middle of the desert.

Construction has slowed down in recent years but the city planners still have their eyes set on the future. Who knows what will happen next.

If you really want to freak out, click on this LINK. I promise it will not disappoint.

Just a few days ago, even more light was shed on this landmark city as The National reported a story about new panoramic images that were now available online.

The footage is captured atop the Burj Khalifa, a tower in Dubai that is more than 2,715 feet tall and with over 160 stories, it is the tallest building in the world.