Misadventure #1

OK - so there was a group of about 6 of us - all new faculty and all of us ready to get out and see a little of the town (Sharjah this time, not Dubai - Sharjah is the neighboring city and is more conservative and traditional - it feels like the Middle East, not like flashy, modern Dubai). So Kevin - an instructor in the Philosophy department and one of those people who's never embarrassed about anything - suggested we go down to the "old souk" one evening ["souk" is the Arabic word for market]. It was about 8:30 or so. We needed two taxis to get us all there, and Kevin, who wasn't really too detailed about describing where the "old souk" was located, jumped into the first taxi with Cindy and I. The other cab left with only vague directions.

Kevin found out the cab driver was Afghani, and proceeded to tell him in broken English/Arabic/Dari that Hamid Karzai, the president of Afghanistan, was a drug lord and shouldn't be able to stand for re-election. Fortunately, the cabbie laughed, so a potential crisis was averted.

After we arrived at the "old souk," Kevin thought we should go into this "tea house" while we were waiting for the other cab to arrive. He'd seen this "tea house" before and had wanted to visit. So Cindy, Kevin, and I go in, walking past a room full of Emirati men mostly in their 40s, 50s, and 60s. Picture them in their white dishdashas and headdresses, and us sitting in the adjoining room. So the guys in the other cab call us because they're lost (you're probably no more surprised than I was). So, Kevin walked into the other room and asked if one of the gentlemen in there could talk (in Arabic) with our (Arabic-speaking) Lebanese friend in the cab and the (Indian) cab driver to give them directions to our "tea house." It took about 10 minutes to get them into the general vicinity, at which point our friends hopped out of their cab and walked the last several blocks in the 95 degree heat.

After our friends arrived, we all had some more tea. The Emirati gentleman who helped get our friends over came in with another Emirati and we had a nice conversation (mostly in English) with everyone for about half an hour. The Emiratis were truly kind and we enjoyed talking with them.

So, Kevin at some point becomes curious about why there really aren't many waiters at the "tea house" and why there weren't any menus. So he asks, "What is this place?" It's hard to translate, but basically, our Emirati hosts explained that it was a meeting place for the leading men of the city - somewhere between a private club and a city council meeting. There weren't any waiters, only the Emiratis' personal servants.

So we're pretty sure they haven't seen any Westerners in the "tea house" in years. We're also pretty sure they haven't had any women in there in years - much less a Western one with no abaya and no headscarf (Cindy was in a t-shirt and jeans).

Now rest assured that everything was fine and that no one was ever uncomfortable. Furthermore, our hosts were fantastic and we enjoyed that little slice of culture. Maybe Cindy can even run for city council next year. But make no mistake, Kevin's on our list.