I do apologies for not posting much sooner. Juggling three children and working on a popular international family entertainment brand here in the Middle East have really taken their toll on me and have left me with very little time to write. Janah and Serene have also started swim squad training, which is taking up four afternoons a week. Janah even competed in her first swimming competition.
I found myself gravitating towards the back of my local café; I could hear a familiar Australian accent over the Arabian music playing in the background. In the distance I could see a couple sitting at my regular table with their children; their accent reminded me of home. As I lifted the pram over the step, I looked over at the female and then turned and glanced at the male sitting opposite her. My jaw dropped.
“What are you doing here?” I uttered, as though I had known them my entire life.
They were not just any ordinary Australians – I had just taken my seat beside two iconic Australian television personalities who I had admired throughout my career as a journalist.
Over the few months that I had lived in Al Muroor, I had become a regular at Café Macchiato. Each morning, after dropping Janah off at nursery, not far from our home, I would push the ‘train’ – the double-pram – Serene sitting in the front while Alisar lay quietly in the back, to the small shopping centre opposite my apartment block.
For the first six months I found it difficult meeting people or going anywhere with three small children. My morning walk to the coffee shop was the highlight of my day. I was living in an area predominantly made up of Emiratis. Occasionally I would see expats but everyone seemed to be doing their own thing, living their life, with no interest in making new friends. I was okay with that, I was fairly comfortable in my own skin and had never relied heavily on friends in the past. But living away from family was different; in this part of the world your friends become your family. It was during the religious holidays when Tarek and I really began to feel our family’s absence. In Tarek’s situation, he was working and instantly forming friendships through his job but for me it was much harder.
Before we moved into our apartment in Al Muroor, I had attended a local mother’s group in Abu Dhabi. When I arrived at the British Club, I was surrounded by women who had been in the country for many years and had formed their clique – they were mainly British women who were regulars at the club. I thought many of them were pretentious, caring more about replacing chandeliers in their oversized water front villas in Al Raha than engaging in conversation with new arrivals.
I stood around with my oversized tummy, playing and laughing with the girls. I wasn’t there to make friends, I told myself. I was there to give my daughters an opportunity to stretch their legs, run around in the large ballroom, which had been made into a makeshift playground. I attended the Abu Dhabi Mums group for several weeks until I gave birth to Alisar. There were the occasional conversations, which usually started with ‘How long have you been here? Where are you from? Are they twins?’ (Referring to Janah and Serene). But within minutes the exchange would end when we looked over and realised our children had taken advantage of their mums being distracted; rushing to the confectionary stand and often turning on the water dispenser, flooding part of the room.
The women who were interested in making new friends were, like myself, new arrivals who had children approximately the same age. I remember running around after Serene, when I looked over at a young blonde woman talking to her son – he was roughly the same age as Serene. We laughed together.
Lisa and I were drawn to one another – the Australian accent was impossible to miss and there was the simple fact that neither of our children looked like us. Our kids had Arabian traits while we were both blonde and fair. Although I have a Middle Eastern background, my children had inherited their father’s dark features. Lisa, who grew up in an Italian household, in Sydney, was married to a young man from a Lebanese background, and her son Isaac had inherited Joe’s skin tone and hair colour.
Our friendship blossomed away from Abu Dhabi Mums. We attended Isaac’s birthday party at their home and we would often have them around to our house for lunch. Joe and Tarek even offered to babysit the kids together while Lisa and I attended the first Capitala Tennis Championship in Abu Dhabi and later the George Michael and Alicia Keys concerts.
I was devastated when Lisa and Joe left Abu Dhabi, shortly after she gave birth to her second son – they were unexpected victims of the global financial crisis (more on that later). Lisa and I stayed in touch over the years through Facebook, where I’ve watched her and her family settle back into life in Sydney.
Looking back now, every friend I had made during my first year in Abu Dhabi has now left the United Arab Emirates.
Coming up (Lifelong friends formed over Arabian coffee)
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