Dubai First: Emirati Food

Exterior of Al Fanar (courtesy of Al Fanar Restaurant)

When I moved to Dubai, I thought shwarma was local food. I love shwarma and wanted it to be true.

Apparently it is not.

Maryam, my Emirati co-worker and first Dubai friend took me to Dubai's only - yes, ONLY - Emirati restaurant, Al Fanar and it was yummy!

Since she knows the drill, I let Maryam do the ordering.

We enjoyed hobool (fish roe), jesheed (shark), machboos samak (chicken and rice), and finally leqaimat (Arabic donutholes).

The meal was delicious. And the company was fantastic.

Look at me, learning stuff about the local culture.

Calling All Networks

It seems that my depressing post from a few weeks ago did what it was intended to do: help me let go of the feelings of loneliness and pick up my boots.

The problem is, where does a 30-something find new friends?

After chatting with a co-worker of mine, Internations was suggested as a good forum. Despite my incredible awkwardness and hatred of networking events, I thought, 'what the heck' and signed up.

First, about Internations. Simply, it's a networking group for expats. And since 80% of the population of Dubai are expats, this makes for a pretty deep pool of networkers.

They held an event last week at a tapas bar, and though I needed several glasses of wine to a) get over my exhaustion and b) pump up the liquid courage, the event went surprisingly well. I met some people I've been chatting with since the event, and have made my first non-work, non-Canadian female acquaintance.

YAY!

And said acquaintance informed me that there's a Meetup group for wine lovers - pretty sure I fit that bill!

I know there's going to be great days, ok days and downright shit days, and last week was fine, but it was definitely more social and that's something. So lesson learned, I'll start networking and see if that helps build my ... well, network.

That's why they call it that!

Unless You've Done It

PREFACE: This is not a complaint post. It is nothing more than the truth. Deal with it. 

Sad puppy (via Easily Distracted)

This is the third time in my life that I've moved to a city I didn't really know anyone. (The fourth if you count when I moved to Florida, because though I had my extended family there, I didn't have a social network.)

This is the third time I've tried to make it in a city on my own. 

This is the third time I've been genuinely lonely. 

I go to work. I come home. I've taken to working out (I know, who am I!?) and thankfully there's a couple of people I know in the city who have been kind enough to invite me out. My co-workers have turned out to be really nice people, and fairly social, so that's a win, but most days, when I get home, I don't say another word to another human being. 

I know this is temporary, it always is, but it doesn't make the loneliness any easier. 

My mind wanders and I get homesick like nobody's business. And then I get updates from friends and family about what they're doing and how much fun they're having, and though I'm happy their lives are going well, I can't help but feel a tad jealous, and sorry for myself. 

A friend of mine recently commented on how it's like I'm dead, but I can see how everyone moves on afterwards. 

It's morbid, but almost exactly like that. (I assume)

You see whatever space you filled in people's lives become almost immediately occupied after you leave. Of course it is. I wouldn't want it any other way, but it doesn't make you feel any less ... insignificant. 

And if you've never moved, if you've never been away from everything and everyone you love, if you've never been alone you don't know what it's like. 

This too shall pass, and I know that. Soon enough I'll carve out a little life for myself and I will start making Dubai home, but for the next day or so, I'm sad and missing my old home. 

Like I said, this isn't a complaint post, it just is what it is. (It's also a slightly pathetic post)

Clean your closet, clean your soul

An episode of hoarders. (Photo credit: BuzzFarmers)

Yesterday I went through all of my (many) pairs of shoes to figure out which ones were coming with me to Dubai.

After an hour or so, I decided to sell or give away 41 pairs of shoes.

41!

Despite me being totally disgusted by myself, it felt great to get rid of so much stuff. It is interesting to know by the time I leave Vancouver, my life will be a leaner, trimmer version of the one I had here.

Today I'm going through my coats and clothes.

Having never shared a closet, I've never really had to cull my collection. I've allowed my wardrobe to grow and grow, with little thought of how big it has actually grown.

It's become apparent that I should have been on Hoarders a while ago. And I think my friends were irresponsible for not suggesting that a while ago.

11 days and counting.

It's just different

Zemanta suggested the photo, so I included it. (Photo credit: Amanda M Hatfield)

I've moved several times in my life. Some might even call me a bit of a gypsy, and that's fine by me. I like that one day I'll be able to tell stories of life in Slave Lake, Toronto, Edmonton, Tampa Bay, New York City, Vancouver and soon, Dubai.

If you ask me, it makes me colourful.

This move, however, feels bigger. Each emotion feels heightened, each moment feels more significant.

I don't know if it's because I'll be leaving behind a man I've been waiting a very long time for, or if it's the considerable distance and cultural differences that await me on January 14th.

Regardless, this move feels bigger.

As excited as I am, I get a pit in my stomach when I think about not seeing my friends, family and the boy I love for many months. I can't say two words about how much I'm going to miss everyone and everything without breaking into tears.

Now, this doesn't mean I'm questioning my decision - you don't say no to your dream - but it does mean that this move comes with more sadness than I originally expected. And I think we're all aware of how bad I am at emotions.

I'm becoming a bit of a mess.

14 days and counting.

Let the emotions begin

It's about two weeks to go before I leave Vancouver, and already the emotions have begun to take over.

Everything feels like a 'last'. Yesterday I landed at YVR and noted that this would be the last time I say, 'I'm home' when touching down. I went to my favourite sushi place today and wondered if this would be my last visit.

I feel like crying at almost every turn, and have been.

I was offered the job in September, and it's been many months of me wondering when my 'lasts' would be, but now it seems they have begun, and that really sucks.

Should you see a tall brown girl wandering the West End of Vancouver intermittently crying, avert your eyes - it's just me facing reality.

15 days and counting.