The Happy Camel of Liwa

This gorgeous one-humped, white wonder lives out on the Art Hub farm in Liwa. A farm that has several rescued salukis, a few desert farm cats, a couple of horses, an ATV, a swimming pool and one gigantic sand dune.

This ain't no mirage, just camel at an oasis within an oasis...

On My Bookshelf: Mother Without a Mask

Recently I read MOTHER WITHOUT A MASK, a book about the early days here in the UAE (which can be picked up at many book shops or supermarkets in Abu Dhabi). It was written by Patricia Holton, a woman who came from New York (just like me), married a Brit (just like me) and somehow, through the confluence of passion, work and fate, ended up being deeply connected to an Emerati family during the 1970s and 80s in Abu Dhabi and Al Ain.

It’s a phenomenal read if you want to understand the Emerati people and culture as she goes into her experiences with this family as well as traditions, stories and wonderful and compassionate explanations about the Emerati people (and people of the Arabian Gulf). For instance, why women wear burkhas, why sometimes important information is only offered up on an 'as needed' basis (a great insight into how business negotiations are done) and what an Emerati wedding extravaganza looks like. 

Holton also spent her time in the UAE during the time of transformation, and she writes about the changes to the place and people with a wistful preciseness. Reading it gave me a real sense of just how quickly things have changed here in the past forty years.

One passage in particular really called to me. In it, the author is visiting an area in Oman with her Emerati ‘son’ and another family friend and is overwhelmed by the experience... by how distant it is from her other life:

“What was I doing there? How did I get there? How did it all happen? There I was sitting on a wall with a young Arab Sheikh and an old Omani villager, sitting on the wall of an open mosque under date palms growing out of the cleft of a mountain a thousand miles away from nowhere. Ten thousand miles away from home. What was that song? That American folk song? Ten thousand miles away from home? I was living it out.

Was I the same person who had once sat wreathed in her grandfather’s cigar smoke listening to talks of the Indians? Was I the same person who stood watching white clouds scud over a blue New England sky…? Was I the same person who lay disobediently in the dolphin net of a schooner watching the green Long Island Sound cut under the bows?

Where was that child? Absorbed? Forgotten? How did she grow older and find herself here? Strange. Strange. What was the touchstone of my life? How was the pattern weaving? Towards what end?”

Some writers (including myself) write and write and write until the story reveals itself. But sometimes the story is real life. For Holton, when the invitation came to host two young Emerati ‘royals’ in her London home one summer and then accepted an invitation to have the hospitality returned with an invitation to visit the son’s family in Abu Dhabi and Al Ain, a whole new life story began to reveal itself.

I doubt she has gotten rich off this book (and she goes to great lengths to protect the family she spent time with), but what she has left is legendary. Young Emeratis look to this book as almost a history of the UAE’s transformation era and of earlier times.  And until recently it was the only book written by a UAE expat (though technically, she is probably best described as a former frequent VIP visitor).  

Tonight I find myself sitting in the ‘camp’ at Art Hub Liwa (I’m a writer in residence for the International Historical Memory Festival), watching the sun play on the sand dunes where a large scale art work of Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan shines. There is comfort and community here. But there is also isolation, heat and ants nipping at my feet. Just out of view is the massive and massively gorgeous Empty Quarter (Rub’ al Khali). And suddenly I feel so minuscule, like the time I was in a plane flying 35,000 feet high over Japan looking down at waves washing along the Island’s shoreline trying not to freak out at being so high, so far away and so completely out of control.

It's times like this that I think about Patricia Holton (she’s become my hero of the moment). With a series of ‘yes’ decisions, she saw a new and exciting world begin to unfold to her little by little and suddenly a new chapter in her life revealed itself and became immense.  

I love that she realized in the moment that this was something different, and special, and wrote about it. And she had those scary ‘what the hell am I doing here' moments and wrote about those, too. Instead of feeling alone, when I read that passage I feel like I'm actually okay, and it's normal to feel this way. Afterall, we’re all in it together out here in what I lovingly call ‘the sandpit.’

September Update

As a freelancer, September has always been a tough month for me. For most others, I suspect September feels like a return from summer vacations and back to school, where the relaxed vibe of summer dissipates into an enthusiasm to get back to business and get things done. For a freelancer though, there can be a lag. New projects don’t usually trickle in until well past Labor Day (if at all), and if you work alone this can feel like being the last kid waiting to be picked up on the last day of sleep away camp.

While work for me is ‘optional’ here, there is a strong part of me that isn’t quite ready to fully live a life of leisure (I don’t need to work.. but it would be GREAT if I did). It’s not that I don’t like (or even love) the social side of things here in Abu Dhabi for myself. It’s easy to embrace the days with rounds of golf, beach outings, coffees, movies and lunches and stuff.

Maybe it’s the case of some good old German heritage work ethic guilts, or maybe it’s because without having children I feel the need to ‘produce’ or continue to contribute to my world in a significant way. But the reality is that I also make a crap housewife… barely cleaning and cooking, and grousing a bit at some of the errands I have to run.

I remember that very moment this September when, with little on the docket and taking steps to begin an all-out job hunt and launch my ‘personal brand’ (yes, I hate the term too), I looked into my closet for something to wear to a coffee gathering, wondering aloud, “What happens next?”

The answer to my question came just hours later. At a coffee morning a woman from a local art institution made an announcement that she was in search of a writer to join an artist’s retreat taking place out in Liwa.

I nearly jumped over tables to get to her.

Then later that day an editor from New York inquired about whether I’d be interested in participating in a press trip for media covering meetings and conventions (my tourism specialty) in Dubai…

With that, I was back in business (personal brand be damned) and I’ve been in a flurry of travel and activity since.

First came the much needed vacation for John to the amazing place that is Musandam Oman that we took (which I will blog about in depth shortly).

John swimming in the crystal blue waters of Oman.

Then came the five day business trip to Dubai, where for the first time in my life I joined a group of travel writers as a member of the press instead of the hosting ‘flack.’ Not only was seeing Dubai from a meeting and convention travel writer’s perspective with lots of great VIP perks amazing, but I also reconnected with some of my favorite industry writer friends. We visited top properties (Burj al Arab) and took in some ‘only here’ experiences – a trip to the top of the Burj Khalifia, a helicopter tour of the city, a private dhow cruise on the Dubai Creek, etc., etc.

Me strutting my press credentials following a helicopter tour of Dubai

After being accepted to the artist retreat, I turned around and packed my bags for the desert. For the month of October, I’ll be commuting out to the desert, interacting with artists from around the world (there are already artists in residence from Iran, Spain, France, Morocco, Italy, UK and Estonia), learning about the Empty Quarter and the UAE’s trans-formative years (1960s and 70s). 

Sunrise in the Empty Quarter with Art Hub artists

We’ll see what transpires on the writing front as a result… it may be a blog recording the artist’s and my experience, or modern re-workings of Arabic fables, maybe a new screenplay, or merely personal essays on my UAE experience – we’re not sure. As the administrators of the festival keep saying, it’s all an experiment. 

So, I’ll keep you posted. 

The Trip to Liwa Starts in Oregon...

At least for me.

Oregon was the first vacation that John and I took together as a couple. I remember going out to the sporting goods store wondering if it was a strange for a gal to be purchasing rain gear for her first romantic getaway with her guy. We were going to drive along the Oregon Coast and this included a visit to one of the region’s rain forests.

The trip was fantastic and it’s high on my list for people looking to do a scenic, even romantic, road trip, but one of the most memorable stories from that trip was my search for that rain forest.  On the day that we were to visit, we drove and the rain showers picked up. Then the showers turned to steady, if not heavy, rain. And the trees grew larger and the canopies thicker.

With my focus on the destination (and not the journey), I wondered aloud where this damn rain forest could be. Searching on the map for some sort of ‘entrance,’ I finally made John pull over at a visitor center and asked the volunteer on duty how to get to the rain forest.

He looked at me like I had three heads.

“You want to know how to get to the rainforest?”

“Yes,” I said, shaking the map.

The gentleman shrugged.

“You’re in it.”

I just didn’t get it. I wanted an entrance, something official to mark this rainforest that everyone was talking about. (Or that I was talking about.) 

When we got to a small piece of National Park land, I was finally satisfied, if not somewhat embarrassed. That’s because the trees and the rain and the landscape were just as beautiful, and just the same, inside the park as they were outside…

And that’s what it’s like going to Liwa.

Excuse me, is this the entrance to the Oasis?

When John suggested we take a weekend trip to the Liwa Oasis, I envisioned driving down the road that cut through the desert, reaching a gated park where we would pay our entry fees, be reminded to check out the gift shop and then stroll through a cool and shaded oasis that would have some water, a camel and a palm tree or two…

Have I learned nothing?

In fact, the Liwa Oasis is GIGANTIC. It’s sixty miles wide and is home to nearly 50 villages (one called Liwa) with a spread out population of over 20,000 inhabitants.

Liwa Oasis

Even more mind-blowing, the Liwa Oasis sits next to the Empty Quarter, the largest sand desert in the world. This massive moonscape of desert dunes is about 250,000 sq. miles (apparently that’s similar to France, Belgium and the Netherlands combined) and extends from the UAE through Saudi Arabia and into Yemen and Oman.

There isn’t much to do in Liwa beyond driving along the road which borders the oasis and driving into the dunes of the Empty Quarter, and I guess that's pretty much the whole point. 

The sand dunes from the Empty Quarter creep onto the roadway.

Did I mention it's only about 120 degrees out? But it's a dry 120...

This is not the tallest dune in the UAE, but it sure looks big.

Driving out to the Empty Quarter. Look guys, no traffic!

That said, it is a must to drive out to the massive dunes that lead to Moreeb Dune, the tallest dune in the UAE. There is also the gob-smacking Qasr Al Sarab Resort to check out (I’ll be requesting a stay there for a birthday or anniversary at some point!). The peak times of travel to Liwa are during the date palm festivals, the camel races, and during the camel beauty contest (Yes, that’s right, the Camel Beauty Contest). 

We stayed at the Tilal Liwa Hotel which is a nice property with a lovely pool in a great location for camel activities, but not so much for views of the Empty Quarter and checking out the town of Liwa. That's because it’s about 25 minutes north of Liwa toward Abu Dhabi so you’re not really in the heart of the dune/oasis divide. That said, lovely room, nice restaurant, kind staff.

During our visit we were days away from the end of Ramadan and we saw lots of big SUVs with luggage on top of vehicles coming from Saudi Arabia to celebrate Eid. Using the pool area was a young family from Saudi Arabia consisting of mostly young women.  Me in my ‘modest’ tankini and they in their ‘modest’ swimwear (imagine a lycra abaya, and yes, they call it a burqini), it was the youngest girl’s look that told the tale… she stared at me in my strange swimwear without hesitation and in the water we all sort of carefully avoided each other. It wasn’t that they had a huge problem with my swim costume, but I think they were as uncomfortable (or curious) with what I was wearing as I was with their get-ups. (Since then I’ve invested in a few beach cover-ups to avoid any similar situations where I might be viewed as immodest or just a bit out of the norm).

So, why did the trip to Liwa start in Oregon? Well, without that first successful road trip with John, I’d never be on this wild journey to places like Liwa. (So thanks, my love!)

I’ll be heading back to Liwa in coming weeks and look forward to the experience of communing more closely with the desert. More on that as in coming days, but for now here’s a video from the Camel Beauty Contest! 

Princess From A Car Park

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and we are well into the swing of all things post-summer here in the UAE. I’ve picked up my golf clubs again, have been doing a bit of freelance writing work (paid, apparently!) and reconnecting with the many expat wives here who flew the coop for the summer.

But the big story in the house this summer was our foster kitten, Parker. Named because we rescued her from a car park, she cleaned up pretty nicely. While I was completely smitten with this kitten, our other two kittens in residence were not.

After keeping Parker with us for two months of non-stop ball-playing (the girl loves to play ‘fetch’), non-stop swatting at the other kitties’ tails, non-stop trying to eat our food from our plates and non-stop purring all night long, we found her a new home.

One Thursday evening, one of John’s work mates came around and whisked little Parker off…

To Dubai.

In a Maserati.

Talk about a fairy tale ending... 

All this gal needs is a little tiara, right?

While I don’t know what the folks in her forever home are calling her, ’Princess Parker’ is a true rags to riches story and she is part of a young family that has three boys who love her to pieces and where she is the center of kitty attention in her fabulous new home.  YAY!

And even though many tears were shed (by me), we know in our hearts it was the right thing for all kitties and people involved. Our Mido and Tessa are back to their old selves (Parker made them both out of sorts) and we are all sleeping through the night again. Double YAY!

On a sadder note, early in September we came across a beautiful little dark gray tabby kitten who had taken harbor on the steps of our apartment building. Unfortunately, this poor gal had been hit by a car and was in very bad shape. We took her in for the night, fed and gave her a cool, safe place to rest. The next day we consulted with the vets and agreed that her suffering needed to end. That little darling passed over the kitty rainbow, but she will be remembered and missed.

We continue to check on the cats of the Corniche, though not as often as we’d like. But now that the weather is cooling, we are looking to be better about that.