Saturday and car bombs in London and back to work tomorrow. This upcoming week will be a heavy one at work, I’m sure. Nothing to do but just duck my head and get through it. George, head of one program at the Institute, is probably going to be a bit pissed or disappointed with me, but I’ll get into that later.
Last weekend was say-goodbye-for-the-summer dinner with Phil, Enma, Steve, Leah and Hannah. I decided to taxi, for several reasons. I get tired of being in the car, for one thing, and also of having to drink responsibly so I can drive myself home safely. There’s a strategy involved in getting an evening taxi. Right now, evening prayer is about 7:30. You are not going to get a taxi around 7:30, no way. Then, after prayer, everyone and his brother are out on the street trying to flag a taxi. I opted to go early to Phil and Enma’s. The other day I waited 10 – 15 minutes in 110° weather for a taxi to take me down to Honda to pick up my car after its 120,000 km service. This time I walked out the door of my building and bam, there was an empty taxi. That’s how life is. It’s like when you get home from work or from out running errands and cannot find a parking place anywhere near the building so you park a street or so away, and then you walk up to the building and there’s an empty space right in front of the door and you sort of look back over there at your car and think about moving it, but just shake your head and walk on inside the building.
So, I arrived at Phil and Enma’s early. Everyone was already several ahead of me, but I caught up. We had a good time, as always. We talked about everything and nothing and laughed and ate takeaway from the Rainbow Steak House. Phil and Enma are off to Trinidad and then Venezuela to visit her parents. Steve and family are back to the UK to visit his family and then up to Scotland to visit Leah’s family. I have a little less than three weeks left before I’m out of here. Leah and Hannah got sleepy and Steve took them home around 9 or so. I hung out for about another hour talking to Phil and Enma and then I left. It was a nice evening.
Work was typically busy and chaotic last week. Due to new programs just coming online, we have to rework the entire September program of classes for the Institute. Hopefully with a few meetings this week, we’ll get that set up. Also have finals, etc. for three classes which will graduate on next Monday and that means a lot of paperwork. There was also a lot of outside testing last week, but that’s mostly George’s area.
Lorin had called me during the week and said they were coming to Abu Dhabi for Thursday night. She also mentioned that Wendy’s daughter, Kayla, had wanted her mother to get word to me that she had enjoyed meeting and talking to me at David and Lorin’s “Goodbye to B-01” party last month. Kayla is back in Canada getting ready to start her sophomore year of university this fall. Anyway, those exchanges led to Wendy coming down with David and Lorin on Thursday, which was great because I have a feeling that Wendy is becoming family and she’s very good people. Anyway, I had suggested that we all go to Hemingway’s for dinner and get a good burger and some beers.
George has had family visiting him for weeks. Frankly, I don’t see how he does it. He’s a better man than me, that’s for sure. Anyway, he invited me to a party at his place on Friday evening to meet his family and I was pretty sure it was something I wouldn’t make. George throws a great party and I attend when I’m in the mood for a party and think that I can be an entertaining guest. That’s not always the case, so I blow him off. I think it offends him and it’s not meant to. It’s just my nature. Anyway, I invited him and his family to Hemingway’s on Thursday to meet David and Lorin and Wendy and that way I could meet his family and I thought that would cover me. Then, Lorin called me back and told me that Rex (a librarian at the Petroleum Institute) wanted to join us and he was bringing two people. Now, I was up to a table for 12 and Hemingway’s doesn’t take reservations. I’d tried to use some wastuh and get my barber, Jihad, whose shop is at the Hilton where Hemingway’s is, to talk to someone about holding me a table, but they basically said no.
We’d scheduled to meet at 8. I left home about 7:20 and stopped at the petrol station to fill up and then headed on over to the Hilton, arriving about a quarter to 8. Luckily, Hemingway’s “back room” was empty and I spoke to the waiter and he started putting me together a table for 12. He finished about 8 and I ordered a beer and when it arrived I lit a cigarette. I know Lorin and I know George and I know they’re always running late, so I was expecting to sit and wait a bit. What was odd, though, was that the place started filling up and there’s me sitting alone at a table for 12 trying to look cool and comfortable and feeling very conspicuously alone. I think I pulled it off, but it felt really lonely at that huge table for about 15 – 20 minutes.
Everyone started arriving and I felt vindicated. I tweaked the seating and ended up sitting next to George and opposite his family. It was a fun evening. George’s family is sweet and real, just like George, and we hit it off from the start. Everyone talked and drank and ate and laughed and got acquainted and I really enjoyed myself. I took some of George’s family into the Jazz Bar to watch the Jazz Band. The place was heaving, so we had to stand, but the band was the same one that’s been there forever and they’re good. Then, George let everyone know that I probably wouldn’t be at the party on Friday and the pressure started. George knows me. Finally, I promised I would come and fully intended to join them for at least a few hours on Friday. Well, I didn’t.
We got back to my flat about 11:30 pm after Hemingway’s. We sat in the living room and caught up, because I’d spent the evening talking to George’s family. Wendy inspected the flat and I know it seemed like a big change from living on the American University of Sharjah campus. Wendy went to bed first, she had the spare room. David fell asleep on the sofa, as he usually does, and Lorin and I stayed up talking and drinking Paddy’s (Irish whiskey) until 4. We did major damage to that bottle. David and Lorin had my bedroom and I was on the sofa bed in the living room. David and Lorin and Wendy left about 5 pm the next day and I was feeling a bit under the weather. I got my bed back and turned on CNN and settled into my usual position and watched Breaking News about the car bombs in London. (I love London, it’s one of my favorite cities, and I have visited all those places they were talking about on the news.) I did shave and trim my moustache, etc. in preparation to go to George’s, but I just couldn’t pull myself off the bed to shower and dress and drive over there. It played on my mind a lot. Basically, I wasn’t in the mood to go to a party, any party. And what I wanted to do and needed to do was relax in bed and watch Lost and Grey’s Anatomy and House, which was what I did.
Still, tomorrow I will have to face George, but I’ll just tell him the truth and hope he understands.
Oh, btw, so far, the best CD of 2007 is Icky Thump by The White Stripes.
I received an email from my friend Mark Starr. He and his wife work in Kuwait and the email is the long story of this teacher who offended some Kuwaiti with wastuh by putting his son in detention and now is basically being held in the country and not allowed to leave. They put a travel ban on her so she can’t leave the country. The US Embassy can’t or won’t help her. It’s all very shameful. Either I will find a way to link to it or post the whole thing here later. It’s a very eye-opening story.
Below is a link to a story by one of our greatest journalists, Seymour M. Hersch, about the general who did the report on Abu Gharib. I can’t say it surprised me; it’s just typical American government under Bush. Read it tho, it’s an interesting piece.
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/06/25/070625fa_fact_hersh?currentPage=1
The General’s Report by Seymour M. Hersch
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