Technically 9th Street

The street technically known as Ninth Street in Abu Dhabi begins at the corner where my building is located. It ends at the shiny new Khalidiya Mall. K and I walked down 9th Street today in the dry heat of the evening, when my cheeks turn rosy red but my feet do not sweat (huzzah!) It's funny to hear people talk about the weather on dry days because the words "pleasant" and "actually not that bad" are thrown around as if it weren't 112 outside.


Check out my building! My balcony is the first one up from the Alafiya Gents Bath and Saloon (yes, THAT one). K's is the one right above it. We are the only two teacher apartments that face both the corner of 9th Street and (better yet) the park. There is enough room on the balcony for one person to stand and wave like a general reviewing the troops. There is not enough room for a chair, even a small one.


Further down 9th Street is the dry cleaners and a string of shops that specialize in selling the sheik head wraps, much more respectfully known as ghutra. There is also a stationary store, two restaurants, and a cafe where men gather (in their ghutras) to smoke the hookah pipe (tobacco only!) and play cards. This evening, maybe because it was dry, most proprietors were standing in the door of their shops with their fronts to the sidewalk and their backs to the A/C. Presumably, if their front gets too hot, they can turn around and cool off, kind of like an inverse campfire. At the end of the street is the mall, where there is an excellent Indian place in the food court.

The UAE has taken both malls and food courts to a whole new level. Sure, the Khalidiya Mall food court has McDonalds and KFC, a Baskin and Robbins, a Chilis and a Burger King, but it was also constructed with full kitchens behind the little booths so that some non-global-conglomerate places (like this Indian place) have plenty of room to cook right on site. McDonalds, on the other hand, has a vast cavern behind the warming trays and probably a cranky executive somewhere who is upset about having to pay for all the extra space. The food actually prepared in these kitchens is several steps above typical food court fare, yet sold at typical food court prices.

What happens, though, is that the Emerati and other Arab families who flock to malls and food courts inevitably arrange their ghutra- and abeyya-clad selves around a tray of Big Macs and fries, while the obvious foreigners (K and I among them) feast on the treat of freshly prepared Indian or traditional Middle Eastern. I guess everyone wants something different when they go out. I'm not saying this to get on my purist high horse, having ordered Dominos not once, but twice this week. (It tastes the same, only the pepperoni is better cause it's all-beef--no pork byproducts here!)

Two more things, somewhat random:

• Lest anyone doubt the profound corniness of 11 year olds: I assigned my students the previously mentioned "real homework" of writing a personal letter of introduction to me. My favorite was the girl from Stockholm who titled hers "Swedish Meatball." I could not possible make this stuff up.
• Roberson of Arabia uncensored: Someone commented on yesterday's post and then deleted it. Which is totally cool. But I got a few emails wondering why I deleted the comment. I didn't and won't ever. Just so you know.