Zombie apocalypse in Dubai - true fact

Yes, yes, it's been a while since my last post. Blame the end of the northern school year. Blame summer vacation. Blame Cyprus. Here's something to read....

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Wes on the Sky Trail at Playnation. No queues!

Almost every time I go to the mall (Aussies, that’s what I now call shopping centres – I’m sorry, peer pressure) I don’t buy anything to eat or drink. I happily do the groceries, run errands or window shop without feeling either thirsty or hungry.

But today, my throat is parched. My stomach is rumbling. And why is that?

It’s Ramadan.

Meaning, I can’t eat or drink (or smoke, but that's somewhat less relevant) in public for another three weeks. And it’s precisely because I’m not allowed to, according to the law of the land, that I really, really want to.

Some cafes are open with screened off areas to purchase food or drink, but I can’t figure out where I’m actually supposed to do the imbibing/ingesting part, in private. I bought a drink for my son at my small local shopping centre the other day and got told off for letting him stand where people could see him. I suppose I could just brazen it out, but I’ve heard of people actually calling security or police in these instances, so it doesn’t really seem worth it. And I really do want to be respectful of the people around me, who are mostly fasting. But I don’t want to stay at home all day, every day, in the middle of the school holidays. And there’s only so long I can go without a coffee. I’ll be sneaking into the bathroom cubicles any minute now. It’s high school all over again, but (thankfully) without the need for breath mints afterwards (which are not allowed during Ramadan, anyway).

We returned home from a trip to Cyprus the other day and it was an eerie feeling to enter a city you have lived in for months, but is now missing a key component – human beings. The combination of Ramadan and summer holidays (during which all ex-pats hop a plane for home) means the streets are deserted. It’s like the zombie apocalypse has been and gone. We are Legend. As Graham said when he went back to work on Sunday, he almost expected to see a tumbleweed roll down the highway.

Woooo-ooooo. That’s the sound of the wind through the ghost town.

Okay, not totally true. It comes back to life a bit after sundown, when all the restaurants and cafés open up again and do a roaring trade with starving, dehydrated locals. But by that time, we’re tucked up at home, in our neighbourhood of absent ex-pats. At least we have the pool to ourselves.

I’m attempting to shift the kids’ sleep patterns so that they fit in better with the current situation, but – while the older two have 10.30am sleep-ins down pat – Archie still wakes at 6.30am. And a family is only as happy as it’s youngest member, which in his case – on a night out – is not very.

I was curious to experience both Ramadan and a Dubai summer. It’s only been three days since we returned from Cyprus (where, by the way, Ramadan is also observed in the Turkish North, but with absolutely no impact on the non-Muslims. Even The Pork Shop (that’s what it’s called - true fact) stayed open, and all the supermarkets sell grog) and I think I’ve satisfied my curiosity. Bring on August 9 (which is not just a reference to mother’s birthday, but also my mother-in-law’s birthday – amazing coincidence – and, of course, to Eid, the end of Ramadan 2013).