The Sojourner

After living with Indian ex-patriots for almost two years, I have three conclusions about the British influence on the sub-continent.

1. The greatest thing that the British got from the Indians was tea.
2. The greatest thing that the British did for themselves while they ruled India was develop India Pale Ale for their troops.
3. The greatest thing that the Indians got from the British was cricket.

For the American readers, cricket does not refer to the soothing insect that chirps after twilight and is great bait for trout.  It is a sport that is played with a bat and a ball.  It never caught on in America, perhaps because it is akin to slow baseball.  It is hard to imagine anything slower than baseball.  A British pundit described the American reaction to cricket as "How can I hit the ball when I'm so busy eating grits and seeing my psychologist?".

The Indians and Pakistanis are absolutely passionate about cricket and have brought their love for the game wherever they have settled.  When we first acquired satellite television in America, we inquired about the pay-for-view sports packages.  The salesman for the broadcast company informed us that the most popular package by far had nothing to do with the NHL, NBA, NFL, or NASCAR.  It was cricket.

Today, I feel a little like the Jewish toy merchant who celebrated a successful retail season by taking the family to Antigua while the Christians had their Christmas in the cold.  This Christmas morning dawned brightly in Dubai to a cool 19 degrees C. (66 degrees F.).  I watched the world news with a cup of coffee to learn of record chill and snow in Europe and North America.  Air travel was suspended in many locations and snow was anticipated as far south as Atlanta, Georgia.  Brrrrr!

After a good swim under the bright Arabian sun, I dressed and walked the half kilometer from my flat to the Irish Village Pub in the Aviation Club.  The temperature had warmed to 26 degrees C. (79 degrees F.) and it was perfect for a meal in the garden.  For a reasonable sum, the pub was hosting a Christmas buffet lunch with all the trimmings.  Fortunately, I had not eaten anything before that time for it was truly a feast.  My first plate held turkey with cranberry sauce, roast beef with horseradish, mashed potatoes with gravy, and rotini pasta with meatballs and sauce.  The second plate featured British dishes, including steak-and-Guiness pie, bangers and mash, brussel sprouts, cauliflower with cheese, and julienne carrots.  Had I been twenty years younger, I could have held out for a third plate but I had to give in and bravely move onto the desserts.  I managed to savor Christmas pudding topped with clotted cream, a slice of Yule log pastrie, and a mincemeat tart.  Whew!  That was what I called a proper Christmas lunch.

Fortunately, I do not frequently succumb to such bouts of gluttony, but it truly made the day.  Needless to say, the walk home seemed like ten kilometers but it served as a non-alcoholic digestif.  The holiday in this Islamic land became memorable for the meal.

May you all enjoy similar repasts with family, friends, and football.  It seems that the world now has a little hope after coming out of a very rough time.

When living as a stranger in a strange land, the unusual and unexpected becomes commonplace.  After an initial adjustment period, life becomes routine although it takes a little longer to adapt when moving from Florida to Dubai than from Florida to Arizona.  Regardless of how normal the world seems to be, there are events that serve as poignant reminders of geography.

Last Thursday night, I was joined by a mate from Zimbabwe to watch the finals of the 2010 FINA Short Course World Swimming Championships.  The event was held in a brand-new natatorium at the Sheik Hamdan bin Mohammed bin Rashid Sports Complex.  (Sheik Hamdan is the Crown Prince.)  Attendees to the event included several members of the royal family who sat in their VVIP section.  The crowd was truly international with fans from Japan, Russia, Tunisia, Australia, Brazil, Sweden, and at least one American, yours truly.

The United States has long been a powerhouse in swimming and has turned out such greats at Mark Spitz, Michael Phelps, Rowdy Gaines, Randy Reese, and Marc Nadeau.  The U.S. team did not disappoint at this meet.  Ryan Lochte gave a world record performance in the 400 M individual medley.  Rebecca Soni out-touched Leiston Pickett of Australia by 1/100th of a second to win the 50 M breast stroke final.  Natalie Coughlin took the gold medal for the 100 M backstroke.

As impressive as these performances were, the event that knocked me off my seat was hearing the Star Spangled Banner played three times.  As an ex-patriot Yank, I have not heard my national anthem once during the last two years.  Not only did I get to see Old Glory raised to the rafters but I witnessed the Emirati royalty and the others in the arena stand respectfully during the playing of our national hymn.  Let me tell you that the kids on the podium were not the only ones who choked up.


To add to the surreal vibes of the whole experience, Lynard Skynard's Sweet Home Alabama was played as Ryan Lochte exited poolside and The Beach Boy's Kokomo was cued up during Natalie Coughlin's departure from the podium.  Hearing those songs at a nightclub would have had little significance but hearing them in this formal, international sporting event was fantastic.

The events of the evening drove home the reality that I was an American who drove across town to watch an event that was 12,000 kilometers from home.

The ADA clearly does not stand for 'Arabian Disabilities Act'.  Those in America and Europe are familiar with the ubiquitous special entrances, ramps, bathroom stalls, and parking spaces for physically handicapped individuals.

Here in the Emirates this is not a common site.  Handicapped parking is generally only found around government buildings and in a proximity to tourist hotels and attractions.  Regardless, this does not reflect a lack of compassion or caring in the society.

The majority of inhabitants of the Emirates are ex-patriots.  Local residents make up only 5% of the population.  Ex-patriots have come here primarily to work so they must be of sound health and ambulatory in order to pass the medical exam that is required to obtain a work visa.

There are very strong family bonds here.  The elderly and the handicapped are generally under the care of their family and friends.  I found these same values in Japan where handicapped persons are not ostracized but cared for by loved ones

For years in America and Europe, we have decided to have the government take over many of our social responsibilities.  Many rely totally on the schools and teachers to raise their children and openly blame them for problems caused by their own shortcomings as parents.  The same dependence on the government is expected concerning the elderly and the handicapped.

In wealthy nations, there was revenue available for many of these social services that poor nations did not possess.  Today, many nations are bankrupt or are running huge deficits.  Does it make sense to follow the example of traditional and developing countries and take more personal responsibility for our children, our elderly, and our handicapped?  Obviously, there will always be a need for social service for institutionalized persons, rehabilitation, and to assist in providing equal opportunities for the handicapped.  If we aspire to truly have less government, we need to shoulder more responsibility ourselves.  This should start with our own families.

It is refreshing to live in a country formed from a multitude of cultures that collectively possess family values and self-reliance that has been lost in much of the West.

Living in this polyglot state often brings interesting clashes of cultures.  Today, people from around the world are drawn to the same activities that pull them from their traditional lives.  Last Thursday was National Day here in the Emirates where the young nation recognized thirty-nine years of existence.  Since it was a state holiday, it provided a good opportunity to observe people relaxing and having fun.

While driving north to Ras Al Khaimah, I observed a "pick-up" cricket game in a large empty lot beside the freeway.  Often on Fridays or on public holidays, it is possible to witness Indians and Pakistanis enthusiastically playing their favorite sport.  It was interesting to note that several of the players were wearing izaars, which are a skirt-like garments that extend well below the knees.  I did not stop to watch the game but I imagined the humorous spectacle of seeing these players running at top speed in these restrictive outfits.

After having a good flight up the base of the Musandam peninsula to Oman, I turned onto the ramp from the runway at Jazirah Aviation.  In the usually empty parking area were several of the same Ukranian microlight that I was taxiing.  In the FBO, I was informed that these were private aircraft whose owners were participating in a club flight around the Emirates.  They did this every year on National Day after making special arrangements with the local civil aviation authority.  All of the participants were local Emirati dressed in traditional dishdashas (ankle-length shirt dresses) with sandals.  This attire would definitely make flying challenging.  At least these particular planes are equipped with yokes for directing the ailerons and elevator.  I imagine that piloting a plane with a control stick would be virtually impossible in such an outfit.

On the way home, I stopped by a Starbucks to pick up a quarter kilo of their choice coffee beans.  At the check-out, I was behind a local couple with cute baby girl in a stroller.  The little one was talking up a storm to me in that mysterious language that infants are so adept at speaking.  Being a sucker for babies, I smiled and waived to the little one who continued with her soliloquy.  At first, I received a stern look from her folks, who were obviously not happy at having their little darling talking to an infidel.  However, the love of parenthood overcame suspicion and both broke into smiles.  Since they were traditionally dressed, I could see father's grin but I could only see mother's smiling eyes behind her burka.  At this point, my inappropriate attire was overlooked.


It is interesting to see that as humans we all enjoy the same things in life, including sport, club activities, and family.  The fact that we carry our cultures with us does not hamper our passion or enjoyment.  Our attire may be inconvenient but is never improper.