Sometimes, It's the Little Things that Mean the Most

By: Safia Moore

Sometimes, It’s the Little Things That Mean the Most

There are pros and cons to life as an ex-pat. The most cited advantages usually relate to the ‘big’ things in life – enhanced opportunities for promotion, higher wages, a better quality of life for children, and the chance to experience another culture. In the case of The Gulf region, the high percentage of residents from many different shores means that the experience is a multi-cultural one. In the UAE, this is the case – around 90% of the population are non-native, approximately 200 languages are spoken here, and you only have to stroll through your favourite mall to discover the diverse ethnicities represented here. Such a demographic profile offers exciting chances to learn a new language, taste exotic food, sample new cultural activities, and generally feel a global connection which is not always possible ‘back home’. These pluses tend to soothe most people’s homesickness. In my definition, this is missing family and old friends whilst often feeling adrift – surely a sense of belonging is only ever felt soul-deep in our homeland.

Sometimes, when you get the ex-pat blues, it’s the ‘small’ things that tip you over the edge and turn you into a nit-picking, fault-finding, short-tempered type of ex-pat who mutters ‘typical of this place!’ rather more often than is polite. Maybe you can’t find your favourite brand of mayonnaise, you’ve given up searching for an English-speaking radio station that doesn’t air techno-beat music 24/7; or perhaps the drone of the air conditioner in summer has you fumbling in a zombie-like state at 3 am for a set of Etihad Airways earplugs that you know you put in a safe place for this very moment. On the other hand, there are some small discoveries I’ve made in the UAE which can make my day and remind me that occasionally, it’s the little things which mean the most.

Here is my Magnificent Seven list of little delights which either ease the tension, calm the nerves, or simply put a smile back on my face when I’m having one of those ‘typical’ ex-pat days:

1. The National Newspaper: I have no idea how I kept my sanity before this daily from Abu Dhabi went into print. Having given up television seven years ago, a good newspaper is an essential for me and The National is a quality publication. I’ve learned so much about the UAE, its culture and traditions since I started my subscription, but it is also packed with international news and the standard of reporting is first-rate. My weekend wouldn’t be complete without Friday’s ‘Weekend’ supplement or Saturday’s ‘Review’ section. What’s more, it’s delivered to our door (well shoved under our gate) and costs just 300 dirhams (around £60 sterling or $80 US dollars for a yearly subscription). The National had to be Number 1 on my list.

2. Dates: When I was growing up in Ireland, my dad occasionally bought one of those small, long boxes of dates from Morocco with the skinny plastic stick for eating them one at a time. I think he and I were the only two in our family who liked them, so it was a rare treat. How wonderful it was to discover the different varieties of dried, honeyed, and of course, fresh dates when in season. They may be high in sugar and carbohydrates, but good quality dates are a fantastic pick-me up snack to be enjoyed at any time of the day. We always start the day with some and break our fast during Ramadan and at other times with them. When the cupboard’s bare, as long as you have dates in the house, you will not go hungry. On one of her visits my mum even tried my husband’s speciality – date sandwich with Tahini – yummy and mum agreed.

3. Mosquito Plug-ins: Just when you thought it was safe to go into the garden, when the summer sun has done its worst and the more temperate winter months are welcomed by all, some anti-social insects gatecrash the barbecue. The bane of the ex-pat’s life in winter is the mosquito. Tricky little fellows who sneak in at dusk, hide in the least obvious places, and then, when you’re nodding off for a well-earned night’s slumber, buzz past your ear! We have the mosquito nets on every window, the handheld ‘zapper’ that looks like a tennis racquet, but the most effective ‘must-have’ is the electric plug-in. Place one in each bedroom an hour or so before you retire and you’ll outwit those pesky varmits.

4. Parachute Cooling Oil: There’s no such thing as total mosquito obliteration however. When they strike on Irish skin, the aftermath is not a pretty sight. Those bright red bumps itch like hell too, so you need something effective and quick acting. I don’t know how I came across this Indian-made Ayurvedic product with 21 herbs, but I’m very grateful that I did. It’s a blue oil with the scent of Camphor, comes in a small blue plastic bottle and immediately soothes inflamed skin and cures itchiness. The blurb on the back makes the following claims: ‘Relief from headaches, long lasting stress relief, ensuring sound sleep, nourishing hair.’ I haven’t tried it on my hair, but when I slap it on my mosquito bites, the other 3 benefits follow.

5. Falafel Sandwich: Recipes vary, but falafel is basically a chick-pea fritter that’s served throughout the Middle East as a snack. The round falafel are usually wrapped in Arabic bread with a dressing of either Tahini (sesame paste). I don’t know why but my local falafel joint in Ras Al Khaimah uses a sort of Thousand Island dressing and adds some salad as well as including a vacuum-pack of pickled vegetables on the side. I’m not a lover of pickles but the sandwich is delicious and Abu Naeem who runs the shop always throws in a couple of extra falafel on their own. They are crisp and dry, never oily although deep-fried and totally satisfying for breakfast on the run or a much-needed fill up at any time of the day. A UAE business called ‘Just Falafel’ has gone global, but I’m happy to stick with Abu Naeem.

6. Arabic Desserts: This may be a bit of a cheat because the tiny square, round, and triangular sweet treats I mean probably originated in Turkey and spread to the Middle Eastern region with the Ottoman Empire. I think Turkish Baclava, the filo pastry, pistachio filled and honeyed, syrup drenched delight is hard to beat, but the Syrians, the Lebanese, and my local bakeries employing a multitude of different nationalities do a pretty good job too. I haven’t got a favourite – I’ll eat any of them. Basboosa (made from semolina) and Konafa (shredded pastry with a creamy white cheese filling) would be my first choices if someone wafted a platter full of so-called Arabic desserts under my nose. And if you get them fresh and warm from the oven – to die for!

7. K. P. Namboodiri’s Toothpaste: You need a good toothpaste after that, right? This herbal product, again from India, is so refreshing and stimulating in the mouth that I’ve even taken it home to Ireland as gifts for family and friends. They may have looked bemused when I handed it over, but those who tried it praised it to the highest. I love the silver box with the Namboodiri circular logo complete with the inventor’s portrait and the words, ‘From the House of K. P. Namboodiri’s’ (established 1925). Here are the key ingredients: ginger, black pepper, long pepper, harra, amla, liquorice, karpoor, clove. What’s not to love about a secret recipe ‘discovered in ancient texts by a royal physician in an erstwhile princely state in Kerala’?

Reading back over my list, I feel a little like I’ve discovered some hidden recipes for contentment in my little corner of the world too. One thing’s for sure, I’d never have been open to such diversity if I’d stayed in Ireland instead of moving to the UAE in 2007. I’ve now lived in 3 different Emirates – Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Ras Al Khaimah. Although I still look upon certain products, foods, and habits as novelties, I’m aware too that for my daughter, who has spent her entire 5 years’ of life here, these things are simply part of the everyday norm. When we go on our yearly summer holidays to Ireland, it’s her turn to make discoveries and I enjoy introducing her to the ‘little things’ that meant the most to me at that age.