Ad for the Bab al Shams

Some years ago, an Egyptian with limited English (he spoke much more English than I speak Arabic, but that isn't saying much) asked me if I'd been to the Arab Tower. I had no idea what he was talking about at first, but eventually, I found out that he meant the Burj al Arab.

Dubai sometimes translates Arab names into English, as it does with the Emirates Towers (Abraj al Emirat in Arabic), and sometimes transliterates, as it did with the Burj al Arab. If there's any kind of pattern, it is one I have been unable to discern.

So the Bab al Shams resort on the Dubai-Al Ain highway is just transliterated as Bab al Shams, which means Gate of the Sun. Since it's very expensive, I've never been to see if they tell the English-speaking tourist what the name actually means.

Anyway, I recently saw an ad for this Gate of the Sun, avidly watched by some of my better-heeled Arab friends, who quite enjoyed the ad and plan to go for the luxurious treatment available there for those with ample dosh. Since they don't know Western music, none of them were aware that the music that accompanied the ad was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

A strange incongruity that, I strongly suspect, one no one else will ever notice.

Pearl Harbor Day, 2011

Once again, it's Pearl Harbor Day, and I am reminded of the parallels with 9/11, particularly the parallels in the attacks on both US administrations for being complicit in the attacks.

It is well known that the detailed plan of the Pearl Harbor attack by the Japanese was available to President Roosevelt, and that he did not give the information to the commanders at Pearl Harbor. A Communist friend says that's a right-wing lie, but it's been widely reported, and it is in the history books.

The right-wingnuts said Roosevelt wanted an excuse to enter World War II on the side of the Communists in the USSR against that anti-Communist, Adolph Hitler, so he withheld the plans and let the Japanese kill more than 2,000 Americans.

What really happened was the the Roosevelt White House did not trust any Japanese Americans. Or any nippophiles, as evidenced by their having studied Japanese culture or language.

So, when US intelligence intercepted the detailed plan, they handed it over to a true-blue 100% American armed with an English-Japanese dictionary, and he managed to translate enough of the document to understand its import on 7 December '41, shortly after hearing reports of the attack on the radio.

The Roosevelt White House HAD sent a warning to Pearl Harbor that intelligence indicated a Japanese attack was expected 'within weeks,' but the best military intelligence indicated that Japan would attack the Philippines, and Pearl did everything to get ready to respond and send the fleet out to support the Philippine defenders. They locked most of the ships' ammunition away where Japanese saboteurs could not detonate it. They had all the pilots digging defences against an amphibious attack and their planes tied down where those saboteurs couldn't get to them. They did everything the book said they should do. Only the treacherous Japanese didn't play by the American book.

Likewise, there was lots of chatter before 9/11. Intelligence clearly indicated that extremists planned an attack in summer or autumn of 2001, so the US prepared: every embassy and consulate in the MENA region was on high alert, with soldiers ready to shoot anyone who looked suspicious (I was almost shot, since I always look very suspicious, but that's just the face I was born with).

There was also chatter about hijacking a plane, so, when the hijackers approached, security found their names on the list and searched them very carefully, only letting them board after it was absolutely certain they had no weapons of any kind, so there was absolutely no way they could hijack the plane.

Again, the US security forces did everything 'by the book,' not realising that the hijackers never read that particular book.

Just as right-wingnuts were (and are) sure that Roosevelt planned and ensured more than 2,000 American deaths to get the US into World War II, the left-wingnuts are equally sure that Bush, Jr. did nothing to stop the 9/11 attacks to get the US into the disasterous War on Terror.

In fact, both FDR and Bush, Jr. did all that could reasonably have been expected to prevent Pearl Harbor and 9/11.

The difference is that, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Roosevelt went before Congress and got the US to declare war on Japan, while, as Peter Sagal put it, had Bush, Jr. been President in '41, he would have declared war on Bulgaria.

To Sharjah with Farook

I had originally (see previous post) planned a short visit with Farook, but he'd bought me lunch, and I felt it would be rude to eat and run, so, when he said we had to go to Sharjah to meet a Philippina, I agreed.

As I said, we'd met a Philippino at Ibn Battuta Mall, and he'd said he wanted us to meet the Philippina, so Farook asked, 'Where Philippina?' and was told 'Sharjah.' So off we went.

Farook got on a road with no tolls (all the  major Dubai roads have tolls of about $1.25 every 15 kilometres or so, called Salek in Arabic) and we got into Sharjah.

Farook asked, 'Where Philippina?' The Philippino called on Farook's mobile and said, 'National Paint.' I thought everyone knew National Paint, but Farook honked and waved until someone stopped. He then asked in Arabic, 'Where National Paint?' and got an answer in Arabic.

So he honked and waved until another driver stopped. Same question, only this time in Urdu, and some answer in Urdu.

THEN THREE MORE TIMES.

Finally, we drove for about a kilometre, and repeated the process ANOTHER FIVE TIMES.

Then we drove another kilometre, and, of course FIVE MORE TIMES.

Finally, we proceeded as directed all 15 times and came to National Paint.

We parked in front of Medina Supermarket, and Farook asked the Philippino, 'Where Philippina?'

As it turned out, she was waiting at Ramez Supermarket. So again, Farook honked and waved and asked five cars, 'Where Ramez Supermarket?' And we started. I saw a sign, RAMEZ SUPERMARKET and an arrow pointing left. Farook turned right.

We got back to Medina Supermarket, so, again, Farook asked, and was told to make a U-turn, which he did. Into a taxi.

So we had to wait for the police.

Who never came, this being Sharjah (in Dubai, they come within 10 minutes or less, usually much less). I called someone I know who lives in Sharjah, and he said, 'Just drive to the police station. They don't go to accidents.' But Farook said the police had to see the accident just as it happened, so we couldn't move.

Only we HAD moved from the intersection where Farook ran into the taxi to a parking space out of the way of the traffic. But Farook felt he could move that far, but no farther.

After three hours (and repeatedly calling the police number) the police finally answered and said to go to the National Paint police checkpoint about two kilometres from where we were. So we went.

As we were driving, Farook asked me, 'Whose fault?'

'Yours,' I said.

So, when we got to the police checkpoint, Farook said he'd turned into the taxi, and got a ticket for $54.

Then he drove us to his cousin's home in Sharjah.

Only the accident had demolished his steering, so he was driving as if completely drunk (in Arabic, sakran). To let people know he had a problem, he took an undershirt and waved it out the window. I expected a second accident (or an arrest for DUI) and another three hour wait, but we made it unscathed to his cousin's home.

Then he tried to flag one of the un-metered taxis that once took people from Sharjah to Dubai for $1. Their like have not been seen for at least five years, but Farook tried to find me one. It was nearly midnight, and I was not inclined to waste any more time, so I flagged a normal, metered taxi and made it home about 1 am, a mere 12 hours later than I'd planned.

How to waste a day (or two)

Farook called and said he needed to see me, it was very important. I always like to see Farook for an hour or so, and he said it would be a short visit, so I agreed.

He said there was a Philippino at ibn Batutta Mall with a business proposition, and we'd go and hear what it was. If it wasn't any good, we'd leave quickly. All of which sounded far more reasonable than I'm accustomed to hear from Farook. Which should have been Warning Sign #1.

Farook picked me up a little after noon and drove me to ibn Batutta Mall. We parked at Tunisia.

I should explain: ibn Batutta was a Moroccan who decided to make the Hajj in the 14th (Christian) century. Having traveled to Holy Mecca, he continued on to Syria, Iraq, Iran, India, China, then back to Morocco, then to Spain (then called Andalus) to keep it under Muslim control (he wasn't terribly successful there). So ibn Batutta Mall starts in Tunisia (as a surrogate for Morocco), then continues through Egypt, Persia, and India to China. The Philippino was in China, and said he'd wait for us.

Normally, when a young man with something to sell is meeting two elderly men, he'd say, 'I'll come to meet you,' but he didn't, and I was glad because I wanted the exercise (ibn Batutta Mall is one of the best places to walk in Dubai, being comfortable all year around). So we walked from Tunisia to China, where Farook got into a conversation with the young Philippino, a conversation that I could have barged into, but was not really invited.

'I am very hungry. We must eat,' said Farook. I left them talking and went to find out that the buffets in China had doubled in price, so I went back and suggested we go back to Tunisia, where prices for food are cheaper. So we walked back to Tunisia, and Farook bought three plates, one for each of us. He never asked what we wanted, he just picked out what he wanted and ordered three.

Then Farook explained: 'This Philippino have lady. She give you good massage. You want?'

'No,' I said.

'We must see her first,' Farook said to both me and the Philippino. 'Where is she? Why she not with you?'

The Philippino explained that she was in Sharjah.

So Farook got me back in his SUV, along with the Philippino, and we all started from ibn Bututta Mall toward Sharjah.

Off to GITEX

It was in 1999 that I read that one of the biggest technology shows was called GITEX, and it was in a place that few English-speakers had ever heard of, formerly the Trucial States, now the United Arab Emirates. I never thought I'd be going.

In 2000, I was offered a job in the aforementioned United Arab Emirates, and one of my duties was to go to GITEX, where I saw all the latest new IT gadgets.

And now I'm going to GITEX 2011.

How can a girl get dibs on a salad around here???

As I said in my previous post, Arabs have a word, dibs, that has no good English equivalent, but somehow, it got mis-translated as molasses. So Wikipedia says that English now has the expressions 'grenadine molasses', 'date molasses', 'carob molasses' and many others, though none of those would be considered molasses in non-Wiki English.

Traditionally, English just absorbs words for which there is no English equivalent. So, it is better to speak of grenadine dibs, date dibs, carob dibs, etc.

In the Gulf, date dibs is very popular as a syrup for pancakes. In the Northern Arab countries, grenadine dibs is considered essential for salads, and they use it in place of vinegar in their customary oil and dibs salad dressing.

But when a Lebanese lady came to Dubai, she went from store to store asking, 'ayna dibs roman?' which is Arabic for, 'Where's the grenadine dibs?' The response was either a puzzled look, since the staff at Dubai grocers seldom understand a single word of Arabic, or a response of 'No have,' if they understood enough to know she was asking for something they'd never heard of.

After several weeks of searching, I have yet to find a single grocer in Dubai that does not carry grenadine dibs. But then, I have one more Y chromosome than that lady from Lebanon: men hate to ask directions, knowing that most people have no idea where anything is; while most women insist on asking directions, even though most people have no idea where anything is. (I'm not saying all men or all women, I'm sure there are exceptions somewhere.)

Grenadine dibs is not used in the cuisines of the people hired to staff the grocers, so they have no idea what it is or where it is. (I assume the owners of the grocery stores know what it is, and insist it be stocked, but they don't bother to train their staff in what it is, or in how to guide a Lebanese lady to find it.)

She told me she finally found an Arabic speciality store in one of the pricier Dubai malls, but the grenadine dibs cost her about $30, when ordinary grocers sell if for about $2.

So, for those willing to search diligently, I recommend the Lebanese oil and dibs salad dressing, and also Lebanese aubergine with dibs sauce, and I plan to try a suggestion in one of the comments of onions fried in dibs.

But for those who insist on asking, I'm sorry, all the grocery staff insist that there''s no dibs in Dubai.

I've got dibs on that...

I found a recipe that called for grenadine molasses. Being published in a Western newspaper, it said I'd have to find a Middle Eastern speciality grocer, but here in Dubai, it's hard to find a grocer that doesn't specialise in Middle Eastern ingredients, so I got a bottle labelled (in Arabic) dibs roman.

Which brings up a problem of translation: in Western Europe, everyone has the same concepts, but different ways of saying them, so the English say 'bread' while Germans say 'brot' and the French are a 'pain'.

But when one goes East, the concepts are different, so a word-for-word translation becomes difficult. I know what an English 'word' is, but the Arabic 'kalima' is any combination of two or more letters, so not quite the same, but my Arabic-English dictionary says kalima is the Arabic for 'word'.

Which brings me to dibs.

In standard English, molasses has one meaning: crush sugar cane to extract the liquid, then boil that liquid until it forms a thick, dark, sweet syrup, and that syrup is molasses.

In Arabic, that syrup is called dibs, but Arabic has many different kinds of dibs besides molasses. The word dibs seems to refer to any thick, dark edible syrup.

In proper English, when a traveller comes across a concept that does not exist, the word is normally absorbed into English via the five-finger discount method of acquisition. But sometimes the traveller gets 'help' from one of the natives who speaks a little English, and this seems to be how dibs roman got translated as 'grenadine molasses' (roman is Arabic for pomegranate or grenadine). I find this unfortunate, because molasses is always sweet, but grenadine dibs is very tart, so Arabs without the benefit of an Arabic-English dictionary have translated dibs for me as vinegar. And one Lebanese said dibs has no translation into English.

So I wish, when the company was forced to find an English name to put on its international label, they had just called it grenadine dibs, rather than grenadine molasses.

I should also mention that Northern Arabs tell me they use it instead of vinegar to make oil and dibs salad dressing. And the recipe I found that caused me to buy a bottle said to mix it with sugar to make a sweet-and-sour sauce to pour over eggplant.

So now I've got dibs on the salad and the eggplant.